#weirdly energized (not in good way)

[noirapocalypto]

Also to those of you that take the time to like/read/acknowledge my personal posts, thank you for seeing me.

[eybefioro]

I feel like I can't contain the emotions that are boiling in me today. Which are they? I have no idea. I just want to scream and laugh and bit my arm and cry and and...

I may be slightly overwhelmed by something. What that something is only the universe knows, not me lol

[jjungxkook]

blackout | jjk

⇥ pairing: roommate!jungkook x reader

⇥ genre: best friends to lovers, roommate and college au, fluff, crack, smut

⇥ rating: 18+

⇥ warnings: swearing, he’s just a bit of a fuckboy, bickering, swooning over/thirsting for jk (🤷‍♀️), a manually induced fake blackout? dunno those 2 are odd k, they play uno, a lot of spending time in the darkness, kook has no chill, teasing, consent, dirty talk, fingering, cmnf for a while, sexual tension, oral (both receiving), shower sex, choking, hair pulling, reader cries a bit, jk likes to praise, dry humping?, pussy and tits slapping rip (and some ass ig), making out🙄, manhandling, jk loves her tits and ass and plays with them (a lot), he’s sweet but cocky too, protected sex, dom + big dick kook

⇥ wc: 14.3k

⇥ author’s notes: this is a repost from my old blog!! i may repent for my sins. also i do not know why this is so long, i thought it would be 10k rip please i apologize. anyways, i really hope you like it!! i’m very stoked to find out what you think😶‍🌫️

⇥ summary: Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

–

pt1 || pt2 || pt3

–

The hardness of the bench is tiring out your ass.

It’s incredible to you what tribulations you’re ready to burn through just to keep your best friend happy and satisfied. The blazing noon sun is steaming your scalp, even though in the middle of fall, it really shouldn’t.

Fingers wrapped around the edge of your seat, you lean forward and squint your eyes. You make out the energized individual running across the field immediately. Nevermind that he promised you football but you got soccer instead.

You wouldn’t dare to complain, though. In the summer heat, lopsided beams and big, dark puppy eyes refresh you like the late night Tequila Sunrises you love so much.

“Are you playing or taking a walk?” You yell from where you watch. Childish howling and woahhhhs echo across the field, fists pressed against round mouths and eyebrows skyrocketing.

They strive off anyone’s praises, really, but your unfaltering coaching pushes them forward a good, humongous step. In fact, you only recognize about a handful of the players, though there aren’t that many anyway.

No one running around down there cares much about authentic formations. The game usually played with eleven screaming, pumped members on each side only consists of four per team today.

It’s entertaining: The constant curses that always evolve into dramatic compliments, the loud and ambitious handshakes when they score, and the testosterone dissolving in the air, but only after the scent has wafted straight into your nostrils.

And the verbal invitations Jungkook hands out to you every week with pouting lips might play a role, too, yeah. He doesn’t like to make you wait like he does right now, but he doesn’t necessarily enjoy distance from you much, either.

A buff man in his mid-twenties, attractive beyond Greek gods’ appearance, highly determined and ready to indulge in new hobbies – relies on you, even after years of independence.

Seeing you watch and cheer him on boosts his already steadfast ego, and he’s never failed to let you know that, “It feels different from when other girls scream my name.”

You wish you could take it as a compliment, but the consistent ambiguity in his (bitter)sweet words fatigues your heart. The beat of it is not so consistent.

The crush has been omnipresent since you learned the first steps of stupid algebra, but lately, something in your lower belly has shifted weirdly, too.

Today, the shift shows in the way you clench the edge of your seat.

You hear the boys announce the end of their groundbreaking, world changing match, though you can’t recall who won, and observe the languid steps Jungkook takes toward the bench.

Energy slowly dwindling, he puffs out a deep breath, unaware that something inside you dies when he throws back the damp hair. His white, sleeveless shirt is sticking to his broad, firm chest – the refined pecs, abs and bare arms might not have triggered your embarrassing drooling if the last weeks hadn’t changed your perception of him.

There are, for instance, the filth-riddled noises when he’s fucking one of his occasional flings to the moon. Or how those exact same groans of his repeat when he heaves something that perhaps does not even require this low ass growl.

The sounds when he’s repairing something at your place or stretching after waking up. How you wish you could add to those sounds by delivering your very own, unique version of the female moans you usually hear from his room.

You could blame it on sex deprivation, or you could blame the outrageous line of his jaw, but you think the walls of your pussy have deformed and become dick-shaped. Welcoming a certain something that's definitely better than your beloved toys, according to the sounds at least.

This yearning feels kind of weird.

Jungkook has stopped not too far from you. He lifts his inked, veiny hand to wave and then reaches for his bottle to hydrate. And hydrating he does – in a way so alluring that you think he’s doing it on purpose.

Flashing the jawline of nightmares, he cuts you from afar. Sharp, more hazardous than in his teenage years. A phenomenal bone structure, accentuated by the shine of the tiny sweat drops. Shimmering golden skin.

When he drinks, you see his Adam’s apple bop even from here. His bicep is hard, bangs falling into his eyes, and his pink lips wrap around the bottle so prettily…

Thirst.

You and he both know how it feels.

Your mouth shuts close before he can notice. Instead you cup your hands around your mouth and call out to him.

“You do know we have an appointment today, right?”

“Your dick appointments can wait,” he yells back. When you roll your eyes to the back of your head, mumbling gross, the dork chuckles. “I’ll be done in a sec.”

He wraps stuff up, running back to his friends, and claps his hands before giving everyone a last handshake-bro-five-mix. The fondness you feel watching his social side bloom is blissful torture.

Jungkook grew up as a timid caterpillar, shying away from crowds and public gatherings. Opening up took a while, so you can’t remember when he went through the process of metamorphosis to come out prettier than a Cramer’s Blue Morpho butterfly.

He's still somewhat introverted, but doesn't back away from parties anymore. Red cups fill with intoxication. Bodies sashay past him, some toward him to fall into his grip.

You don’t want to be envious – so you’re proud instead. You enjoy when he’s liked by someone, love how the others grin at him. A likable and soft person like him taking over hearts left and right either platonically or not is kind of attractive to you.

“I’ll wash up,” his voice declares when he’s standing next to you. “And then we go.”

“Aren’t you gonna take a proper shower?”

“Yeah, later tonight. College showers are gross.”

Your conversations are a constant repetition. The way you act around each other, your gazes and your actions were bound to become a routine – if not during your time growing up together, then certainly when you began searching for a place to share.

So his response doesn’t surprise you. Neither does the further waiting on the bleachers, pulling in your knees, draping your arms around them to press your cheek against them. Daydreaming and watching or listening boy after boy leave the field.

Despite the familiarity of everything, you still feel different these days.

–

“After last time, I feel like you’re asking for too much.”

The man, not exactly happy about missing a live match of tennis but not quite grumpy today either, leans against the frame of his door. White, wet tresses peek through his dark mane, an indicator he just showered to enjoy the calm day you interrupted.

Jungkook’s hair was as wet as his when you left the bleachers too, now fully dry as you stand in your old but cozy building.

How could it not be?

Considering the dozen stops between campus and your home, you could possibly dry an entire laundry in that time. Both of you are at fault, though – one of the million things you’re good at doing together is wasting money on stuff you might not necessarily need.

Convenience store, pharmacy and a flower shop to buy yet another succulent for your room. Jungkook pouted and frowned at you for the entirety of the convenience store visit when you told him the landlord thing wasn’t an appointment per se, but that he knew as well as you that you needed to sort things out.

Things being the impossible utility bills that keep you up at night. Things being both your stupidity to still halt in front of shops to acquire things like parsley and cheese.

Remembering just this idiocy and looking at the power your landlord’s eyes hold, you’d rather look at Jungkook than him.

At the shiny hair tips hanging into your friend’s eyes. The oversized gray shirt that could potentially hide the body he sports underneath, but his fingers are holding the strap of his rucksack, and the pull at his shirt is enough to make the lines of his chest visible.

But this afternoon is not about brooding over the edges of his torso. It’s about confronting a landlord who fortunately didn’t meet you in a hazardous mood despite his firm plans for tonight. He doesn’t complain about the weather today or seem elated because he found yet another new hobby, like he usually does.

He looks almost neutral, you think. You can’t read him, actually.

“Yes,” you confirm, exchanging a look with Jungkook. “It does sound like a lot, but you know you can count on us–”

“Dunno. You don’t seem to remember last time.”

The taunting tone riles you up, but the numbers on your bills haunt you enough to keep your calm. This is no time for an argument.

You take a breath and shoot another glance at Jungkook. His eyes are tremendously big and lips pressed together to an innocent, uplifting smile. He seems to sense your irritation, too.

“We do,” you confirm. “But c'mon, that's not fair. We’d just started living on our own back then. You know, no guardians to take care of us and all, so it was bound to happen.”

Not just that. The reason why you asked for postponing rent payment was because the two of you had been too eager and too stubborn to ask anyone for money. Ending up only providing half of the rent for almost three months wasn’t something you did on purpose.

But while you should’ve been more cautious, to some degree, it wasn’t entirely your fault. You had more college debt than you could afford only half a year after moving to this apartment, and Jungkook’s earnings weren’t close to what you needed.

“I really don’t know.” Yeah. The man’s doubts are kind of valid.

“C’mon… You know us, Mister Choi,” Jungkook tries this time.

“That’s why–”

“You can…” You suddenly interrupt, only noticing how things might backfire once you’ve already said them. “You could end our lease if we don’t pay you what we owe you this time.”

You think you can quite literally hear Jungkook’s heart stop next to you. At least that’s what his wide eyed, confused stare suggests when he moves his head to you. He’s voicing something in silent hesitation, but Choi most likely doesn’t notice.

Because before Jungkook can throw in his own–probably very unsure–two cents, hand coming up, the landlord sighs. He shrugs his shoulders, mumbling your last names, contemplates for a second longer and then… Agrees.

“Okay,” he says with a not-my-problem-nod. “That’s an idea I can work with. This month’s and at least half of next month’s by the end of the upcoming month, alright?”

You hate the constant repetition of the frightening word month, but on the inside you still jump and clap in joy. Both your and Jungkook’s expressions light up, your feet shifting as though you’re about to jump Choi and tackle-hug him to the ground.

Instead, you only gasp, clearing your throat and cheer, “This is! More than we expected! Thank you so much. Thank you for real for real, seriously, wearesosuperth–”

A palm stops the fast flow of your gratitude, and he only shakes his head and bids you goodbye with a thumbs up before he disappears behind his door. You think you see a fond smile, but your happiness might just be inducing pictures.

But who cares anyway?

Phase One of Saving Money turned out successful.

–

Once you enter your humble apartment, tension releases out of your mouth with your sigh. You slip your bag off your shoulder and into the corner next to the entrance, shoulders dropping. Every second with the landlord took a year from your lifespan.

Jungkook, always happy-go-lucky, isn’t as demotivated and grumpy as you. His steps carry him to your kitchen without a second thought, immediately scavenging the small space for an easy meal.

“What do we do now?” You whine, leaning against the dining table.

The sun is still up and it will remain hanging in the azure blue sky for a few more hours. But you dread the darkness that will descend after – not because it scares you, but because it means you’ll have to light up rooms for ideal navigation.

But lighting them up means raising the numbers on your electricity bill.

Jungkook, however, doesn’t pay much mind to your shattering financial situation right now. He’s humming at the pots and seasoning he’s scattered around on the counter, calm as ever, because worrying about something he can’t change right now is not something he likes to do.

“First, we eat. Am starving,” he decides.

A slight shake of your head suggests frustration, but the grumble of your stomach agrees with him as though to remind you of feeding it. He side eyes you and smirks. “I’m not doing or talking about shit until you’ve eaten something.”

Of course. Caretaker first, friend second. If you’re not on the receiving end, you’re the one giving.

You push your butt off the dining table and choose to introduce Phase Two of your mission, telling him, “I think we’ve candles somewhere.”

The conversation changes at once when you release your suggestion into the air. Although you might argue you’re still stuck on the same issue, given the intention that lies behind your idea.

“Are we– Ouija board stu– again?” You hear Jungkook call from the kitchen, every other word chopped off and eaten by the sounds of pots and dishes.

“I’m not ever doing that with you again,” you exclaim back.

“Huh? Why not?”

“You were moving the planchette!”

Granted, there was kindness in his cheating. The evening drained you out of energy and left you a nervous mess, eager to speak to your favorite late grandaunty and her deceased dog. Neither Jungkook nor you believed in the magic behind the practice, but he made sure to soothe your nerves anyway.

You were pissed when you noticed what was going on – but once the anger subsided and gave way to the realization that he really cared, you fell asleep with a smile after all.

“I swear on my favorite hoodie that I didn’t,” he defends.

“Lying son of a bitch,” you whisper, laughing to yourself as you kneel in front of a cupboard storing a few dozen candles and other shenanigans.

You choose one scented, thick one for each room, and then a few smaller, regular ones that you think must do. With a handful of them, you return to the still bright living room, placing each one where you want it later tonight.

You’re serious about your candles – the tongue poking out, eyes squinting in concentration kind of serious. Arranged in a rational way, you beam at your artwork, impressed by your own idea as if it’s not something human beings used to do all the time.

“Seriously, you’re so easy to excite,” Jungkook always reiterates.

Once you join him in the kitchen, preparing not only a meal but spontaneously baking a treat too, time passes significantly faster. In hindsight, you didn’t do that much today, but somehow it still feels like you sailed the world.

You barely realize when several topics have shifted and the sun has disappeared. The moon hangs bright in the dark sky, the brisk gust blowing in through the open windows. It was a pleasant day of the week, even though you kept freezing at his touch even while cooking, and you’re ready to finish it just as lovely.

Only, it doesn’t end at dinner and the day’s exhaustion.

“Dessert tastes better in bed,” Jungkook tells you once you’ve done the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Since tidying up, you’ve suddenly become quieter than before and his eyes squint like they’re testing you.

“Okay? Then go and take it with you.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

He shrugs his shoulders, blowing a raspberry. “You’ll go and sleep already?”

“No, but…” You hum and think. It’s not that late just yet – and you don’t feel like tackling homework or any other taxing task tonight. “I do wanna eat dessert, too. Just thought we might chill in the living room.”

“I mean. Take it as an informal invitation to spend some time with me, but in my room. You don’t wanna?”

“Pervert,” you lightly hit his shoulder with a cloth when he winks. “Is that how you court other ladies?”

“Why, yes. What did you think?” He laughs when you shake your head dramatically, pulling your shirt back and further over your clavicles. “Nah, I was thinking of… Just chilling, really.”

It’s not the first time you’re joking in a way like this. It’d also not be the first time of you hanging out with him in his room, on his bed, giggling about stupid jokes or ridiculous cartoons. Or whatever.

But it’s one of the first times the thought renders you nervous. Like you’re perceiving him as more than your best friend just now, after all those years of harmless platonic cuddles.

When you don’t answer, he delivers another decisive argument. “My room is smaller. Less candles. More to spare for the next time!”

You’re not surprised that he sees through your little idea – rather baffled how easy it is for him to sway you. So you follow him to his minimalistically organized room, not one but two diffusers on his desk. The corner of your lips twitches.

The more you near his bed, the more your heart strikes. His mattress is soft and cozy, and Jungkook’s scent oozes from every inch of it. You feel engulfed in his presence so bad that the emotions of this noon and the last few weeks hit you like a brick.

“Wanna watch something, Pumpkin?” Jungkook asks once you’re draped in the comfort of his duvet.

He might never stop calling you that. Probably hasn’t let a day pass since elementary school when your mom and you decided to dress you as a damn pumpkin for Halloween.

“And waste precious battery life?” You scold with a cocked eyebrow. Your voice is quieter now that you’re cuddled in with him, but you try to maintain your cool.

Turning on the living room TV or light is out of the question anyway. No regular Thursday movie night this time. Blasting Disney’s version of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice for the hundredth time can wait.

With the no-technology-rule you established today, even unplugged devices shall remain for emergencies as long as possible.

“So we’ll act like it’s a full blown blackout, yeah?” He asks before he leans over you, pulling open the second drawer of his bedside cabinet to rummage through its content.

The small action forces your body backward, pushing you against the headboard so tight that your lungs fail. He looks unsuspecting, drenched in the warm light of the candles. You breathe him in unintentionally, and he smells of soap and cologne.

Wrapped in darkness next to him is already strange as it is, but it cannot compare to the oddness of how new his proximity feels.

You barely notice what he’s fished out until he waves it right in front of your frozen expression. An old deck of Uno greets your vision, the packaging as worn out as the cards that he pulls out.

He places them on his large palm before he begins shuffling them – staring at the smoothness he operates with makes you almost miss what he asks.

“Is that good enough, then?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool,” he holds the cards to your face once more. “Are we playing with seven or ten cards?”

“Take it up a notch,” your feeble voice allows. “Make it fifteen just for funsies.”

“Why did I know you’d say that?”

You shrug your shoulders, imperceptibly shifting away from the touch of his arms and hips. “Remember one thing, Jeon.”

“Yeh, yeh,” he taunts, his voice strained. He sounds as though his body is beseeching him to lay down and drift off – but something about the moment seems to be keeping him soberly awake. “I won’t let you win this time.”

Fifteen cards down on your lap, you lift your hands from under the blanket, pulling your set close to your face in utter distrust. You cock an eyebrow at the universe’s choice: Jungkook has either already broken his promise, or the gaming Gods have decided this round’s end already.

With the victory residing in your hands, his vow pretty much slips your mind immediately; it blends out how he still remembers your middle school matches. He really still recalls when you’d fume and burn – disappointed and livid when he’d reveal his picture-perfect deck, unused to accept defeat.

The game doesn’t even properly progress when the first argument of the night pops up. More than half your cards are still in your hands, both your words overlapping.

“Once you lay down a 4+ or color card, you’re not allowed to play again. It’s my turn,” you insist, his wrist in your firm grip as if he couldn’t break out of it whenever.

“I am allowed to play, though.” When he swings his hand, yours moves with him. Both your stances are upright, eyes blown wide and comically riled up. “Especially after a 4+. You're blocked.”

“This doesn’t sound right.”

“Look.” He slaps his cards with the logo upwards into his lap, sifting through the rest of the deck to draw out a yellow stop card. “Would you be able to play on if I hit you with that?”

“No, ‘course not.”

“And 4+ cards work the same way.”

You keep staring at the bright color, lost in thoughts and traveling back to a time when the world around you hadn’t altered every rule of every game you knew. But when no productive result flashes through your mind, you suggest something else.

“Google it, then.”

“You can’t just read the rules? Hold up,” he pulls out the instructions from the package, already fiddling with the paper. “I bet the answer is hidden somewhere in there.”

“Have fun. I can’t read in this darkness for shit.”

Relying on technology for a minute shouldn’t cause a cataclysmic event, so you type in the million dollar question plaguing both your mind, soon striking it rich when a video materializes on the page.

Too lazy to skim yet another amateur post, you decide to trust WikiHow’s explanation clip, hoping for a fruitful result. Jungkook soon gives up the task he bestowed upon himself, cuddling closer to your misery to watch with you.

“Are we serious?” He breathes, laughing off the peculiarity of the moment.

“Watching a video on Uno rules?” You ask, giggling in unison with him. “I fucking know. We’re seriously weird.”

“How long’s it been since we played games together like that?”

You can’t say for sure.

“When we got this place,” you assume. “Didn’t we spend half the night going through board and card games? Because–”

“Because there was nothing else to do. We were sitting on the ground on some shit ass mattress.”

You laugh. It’s been a while – time truly does pass when you’re stuck with someone. You don’t think you’d ever trade the memories you gathered here for anything good in the world. Piggyback rides and cooking mishaps are a delight to store in the depths of memory.

Or moments when you very clearly, very softly realize that you’re falling for your roommate bit by bit; so much deeper than when you were still kids. For him and his touch. His sensuality, even when it’s unintentional.

Like now.

Jungkook grabs his water bottle from his side of the bed as the voice of the narrator chimes. The background is a bright green and the animation weirdly cute, but you blend it out when he reminds you of the plushness of his lips again. Wrapped around the bottle head…

When you reach the wild card moment, both of your ears perk up before you erupt in simultaneous chaos. Jungkook half chokes as he attempts his one-syllable-argument.

“See!” He exclaims.

“See what? He said, if the player can’t play any of their cards, blah blah... Which, in our case, is me.”

“No, but what player? The one who had the wild card? Or the other?”

“Fuck it,” you curse, clicking away without finishing the last minute. “Another video. WikiHow sucks.”

“Why do I feel like we’re both right and wrong?”

You shake your head in defense and with a furrow between your eyebrows, but the dorky grin on his face pulls out your true, playful emotions in the form of a laugh.

The next clip you settle on goes on for longer, seemingly endless – allowing you enough time to peek at the smooth curves of his silhouette.

His lips are jutted and the moving pictures reflect in his eyes. His button nose begs to be booped. A small dimple appears when the tip of his tongue pushes through the seam of his lips to hydrate them.

You don’t think you’re as subtle as you’d like to be, though. Because soon, he’s looking up, causing a sudden flinch. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

He blinks at you slowly, one eyebrow briefly twitching. “Oh. Are you bored?”

“No! Why?”

“Are you okay, then?” Your tongue flits along the inside of your cheek, muscles stiffer than before. He eyes you up and down. “You’re so tense.”

“It’s just… Just weird,” you stutter. Hesitancy breaks the flow of your usually confident speech, and you flick your inner self’s forehead for the obvious awkwardness. “Sitting in the dark.”

What?

What the fuck.

You need to get yourself together and come up with a wittier response. If he just let you – because he prods, “Are you scared?”

“Wha– Do I look scared?”

“You don’t look normal, at least.”

“That’s rude,” you scold, letting the device fall onto the blanket. Numerous wrinkles decorate your forehead, hiding your true thoughts behind frisky surface-annoyance.

His next words do not freaking help.

“Girls usually like me in the dark.”

“That’s…” Heat of an exploding star warms your already blistering cheeks. “That’s pretty lewd of you to say. And unnecessary, too.”

You’re pouting like it’s the first day of sex ed. Innocence expands your pupils harder than the lack of light in this room. Jungkook can’t help it – fondness engulfs his heart. You’ve always been endearing to an immeasurable degree.

“You’re so cute,” he drops casually. He’s amused by the side eye you give him, laughing when you exhale and rub the sweat off your hands on the blanket. “But seriously, what’s up with you today?”

He nudges your shoulder as a joke, and you hate that years of friendship couldn’t prepare you for a dark, emotion-altering night like this. Hormones and an adult’s desires are the devil’s advocate as much as Jungkook is himself.

“Nothing!”

“Have I done something weird?”

“You’re always weird.”

His shocked gasp dramatizes the moment, lifting the tension in the air enough to overshadow your inept breathing. Any attempt to keep your chill could turn out futile any moment now.

“Fair,” he laughs. “But also rude.”

His soft palm sets upon your knee and the plea you utter to your mind to calm your nerves falls on deaf ears. At his touch, you flinch just a fraction… And immediately, he pauses.

His gaze skyrockets to your seemingly sinless one. Lips part in confusion before his expression changes – like a bulb has lit up in his mind.

And then, the biggest change in topic occurs.

“Could you give me my phone charger?” Lifting his device, he lights up the screen to show the red, drained battery bar. He points to the bedside cabinet again. “First drawer.”

Right.

Jungkook doesn’t keep his charger plugged in at all times like you do. Scared it might burn off. You didn’t expect less when you decided to move in with your best friend, though: Not from the boy who declared his fear of microwaves and their potential to melt dishes ages ago.

You open and hunt through the drawer, surprised at the half emptiness of it until your fingers graze something you might not have anticipated. And then you realize…

Ah. Oh.

What if…

Perhaps that was the plan all along. Because when you look back at him, he doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. The calmness in his eyes is telling enough to guess his intentions – but you don’t want to assume for sure yet.

Your touch remains on the little–open–box for a second, one sealed package peeking out. An absolutely fresh condom… One of Jungkook’s no less.

What’s happening today?

“What’s up?” He asks, and you almost huff at the stupid, fabricated innocence in his stupid, soothing voice.

“I think,” you lean back, attempting a laugh. “I just found your most prized possession.”

“Ah?” He waits, and you nod. “Is that weird to you?” A nonchalant shrug of your shoulders spurs him on, the tilt of his head perilous. “It’s not the first time you’re seeing those, right?”

Ugh, yeah. You remember all casual visits to drugstores. The vivid image of Durex’ extra large Excite Me, and true to Jungkook’s dedication dotted for extra stimulation.

He usually cares as much about embarrassment between the both of you as you do when you place pads and tampons between his stuff. Why is it weird, then?

“Yeah. It’s just…” You’re stumbling for words. Fuck. It’s over for you. “Reminds me of some of your escapades lately.”

Jungkook hums. “Mhm. There weren’t that many these days, though.”

“I know. Just made me think of those that did happen, y’know?”

“Okay.” He’s still looking at you like he’s solved every piece of the riddle you are tonight. Not any less shameless, though. “Then… What exactly is it that you’re thinking about those escapades?” Huh… There are too many details you’d need to omit in your answer. But the way his stare is stabbing questions into you as if he already knows what you might say?

Yep. You’re fucked.

“Now?” You ask.

“Right now.”

“Nothing.”

God, even he must be bored of the constant repetition. What does nothing still mean in reality? Everything. That’s how your inner translator interprets it, at least.

This time, Jungkook doesn’t let your response slip. His hand, however, does. Up from your knee… Right to your thigh.

The blanket still lays in between, its fabric pivotal for the moment. If it wasn’t there, you might faint. And something in you says that the experience isn’t far.

“Is that what it is?” Jungkook whispers. His voice is deeper now, and so is your sigh. “That must be what it is.”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been tense ‘cause of that? Since soccer training you’ve been looking at me like I’m suffocating you.” Shit. Of course he’d notice. “And now you suddenly feel weird about being close and about condoms? Do you just…” He digs his index finger into your thigh, his cut nail raking your leg with too many layers in between. “Just miss being touched?”

“By… By you?”

“No, Pumpkin. In general.” You don’t have an answer to his quizzing. Or, you do, but you don’t know where it might lead… Nervousness clogs your throat. “Don’t you…”

“What?” You think you can foresee what he’s going to ask, but you put on a curious act anyway. Then, he drops the bomb.

“Don’t you touch yourself?”

Oh God. Someone tell him to shut up. The little workers in your brain are setting your internal office on fire, handling his lax conversation worse than you.

“I’m…” You pause to breathe in shakily, and then laugh to hide your bewilderment. “Of course I do. Everyone does.” You clear your throat. “That’s a really freaking weird and sudden question, though.”

“Not that weird considering how you’ve been acting today. Thought it’s PMS, but you just called in sick ‘cause of your period last week.” Damn, Sherlock. Of course he’d remember – your whining wasn’t subtle after all. And he was the one serving you every meal all day. “So I’m guessing… It’s been a while and things are just worse tonight?”

“Dunno.”

You’re blinking at him. He’s built a Chinese-Wall-strong barrier at the front of his mind, and you can’t peek through it to understand what he’s thinking. Or what he wants. What he wants you to say or want.

It’s incredibly suspicious to you… And kind of tempting.

“Not gonna lie,” Jungkook’s voice drops to a low whisper, his confession worse than you expected. “I think I heard you a few nights before.”

You rip your eyes open in surprise. Your heart runs up to your throat to start hammering against your vocal cords, and for a few syllables, you can’t do much other than stutter and gasp.

“You fucking creep!” You then blurt out, calling yourself a hypocrite internally in the same breath. It’s not like you listened away during his adventures, legs pressed together to create friction.

“I’m sorry,” he lifts his hands in defense. “But you weren’t exactly being quiet. Plus, our walls aren’t that thin.”

You know… Hell, you know.

But how is he initiating the conversation just like that? God, the absolute courage…

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse. You bring your fingers to your eyes, rubbing them rather than hiding your entire face. “That’s fucking embarrassing.”

But Jungkook softly brings your hand down again – then speaks to reassure you. Only, anything he says tonight makes matters worse.

“Would it help if I told you it wasn’t embarrassing for me?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“It just sounded…”

He procrastinates, his expressions calm but his eyes dangerous. Hooded.

“Bad?” You dig.

“No. It sounded hot.”

No. No, your heart and body can’t handle this. You might die if you don’t push his admissions into the most disbelieving corner of your brain.

Jungkook finds you hot? The sounds you couldn’t hide, he likes them? He means it?

“Shut the fuck up, I’m–” You begin, but he replaces your rebukes with a deep inhale and stiff muscles when he moves closer.

Your back presses against the bedside cabinet. Now that the flickering candle is melting down, its light is getting dimmer and the room darker. Bright enough to still make out his silhouette and most alluring features.

The phone has long fallen from between your fingers, hiding in the blanket and the video long over. Somehow, you’re glad you disabled autoplay – it doesn’t disturb the moment that’s clearly progressing to something dangerous.

But at the same time, you’re surprised as hell. Asking yourself silently over and over again, whatsgoingonwhatsgoingon.

“What are you doing?” You whisper.

“I’m just wondering.” His body is tilted, one hand still on your thigh. “When you do stuff to yourself… Is there something specific you think of?”

You shift a little, not answering. When he sees the surprise in your eyes and confuses it with fear, however, he backs away again and clicks his tongue. “My bad. Sorry for being like that.”

But you’re not letting him retreat now… Things have come too far. You place a hand on his arm and tug him closer subtly. His already big eyes look humongous now, positively delighted, even when you keep struggling with words.

“No, I just…” You try but fail as soon as you start.

“Why are you stuttering like that? That’s not you.”

You wish he was wrong. You’re more confident than this in any other moment. Crazy what one Jeon Jungkook’s touch can do.

You swallow hard, delivering a mental slap before pieces of your courage resurface again.

“This is new to me,” you tell him.

“What is?”

“The way we’re talking to each other. It’s not nothing…” You look down to seek the emoji on his middle finger, barely recognizable in the darkness. “And you’re… You’re good looking, Jungkook.”

“Yeah,” he agrees cockily, but you know his humility enough to understand he doesn’t mean it. Those are shameless teases, nothing more. “And?”

“You’ve always been good looking. And on top of that, I can always hear how you sound when you…”

Should you really go there? What if it damages something? Then again, it’s too late now anyway.

“When I…?” He tries.

“I kinda don’t wanna say it, and I know you know what I mean.”

“Ah, right,” Jungkook casually confirms, like he’s just realized what you might be pointing at. “When I fuck someone’s brain out.”

You suck in a breath.

“Don’t say it like that!”

“How do you want me to say it?” Jungkook taps his chin with his finger. He looks like a sly anime college crush. “I kindly empty their thoughts.”

“Shut up.”

“And rearrange their guts–”

“Oh my God, I’ll–”

Do what? Your own guts are pleading for a good, nasty and disrespectful mess. Wobbly pudding on his bed, your body is already melting at the mere thought… So you can’t imagine what actual ferity could do if he unleashed it.

Unknowing what to say, you look away, moving back like a proper idiot. But suddenly, pressure wraps around your wrist, fingers pulling you into him. You look at him speechlessly, parting your lips when he looks down at them.

“Is there something you want me to do?” He asks.

There’s a myriad of things you want him to do. But there’s slight doubt knocking against the walls of your brain and – ugh…

“Is it okay for us to do such a thing?” You question back.

“I don’t know,” he confesses quietly, his breath pleasant against your lips. “Say no just once and I promise I’ll back away.”

“And… And if I don’t?”

“Answer first.” He tilts his head, big eyes too pure and sweet for the conversation going on. “Or… Well, don’t.”

You remain silent. Hot blood turns your face as warm as a grill, and you look at him and his smile. Your heart rebels in your throat, but your thoughts are sober. So once he sees the clearness in your stare, he understands.

“Alright.”

It’s the last word he whispers before his hand wanders up your pajama pants. He fiddles with the neat knot holding your pajama around your waist, playing with it for a moment until patience runs out.

Soft fingertips tug at the end of the strings until the hem of the pants loosens around you. His eyes shoot up to yours, hiding menacingly behind his bangs. You don’t know what for–perhaps for permission–but you nod.

“Can you lift a bit for me?” His voice is soothing, calm and lovely when he utters his demand as a question. If you listen closely, you hear the desire, though.

You raise your ass, letting him slip the pajama down your thighs. When your body presses back into the mattress, your hands move to his face, making him look at you. The front of his tongue darts out, trapped between his teeth and his eyes are dark and starry. Lost in you.

His teeth let his tongue go, sliding it across his lower lip… Goddammit, you want to taste it.

When he skims over your panties and now bare thighs, your eyes blink close. He watches and adores your reaction; skims your dampness below. Jungkook acts as fuel, even though you’re already incredibly flammable.

The hums that accompany your slight wiggle are gentle, contrasting the losing of your mind going on in your head.

“More?” He wants to know.

“Mhmmm.”

“Okay. Good, Pumpkin.”

You’d smile at the ridiculous childhood endearment if the moment wasn’t so sinful. If he wasn’t grazing your pelvis, causing goosebump as he goes, pulling at the thin fabric until you lift once again.

He chuckles, a sound that reaches deep within your chest. “Good girl. Learning fast.”

Is he serious?

He can’t just drop a good girl like that as if he’s announcing a brief walk through a nearby park. What the fuck.

“Stop it,” you mutter, unaware why exactly.

“Want me to stop? We’re just starting,” he chants, his pout playfully childish and cute.

But the fingers. Oh the fingers rounding the skin right over the sensitive nub. Playing with you like you’re his own personal doll, wrapping you around his skillful, strong and incredibly beautiful fingers.

His touch drops deeper when you whisper an inaudible wish; whatever it is, he thinks he knows what you want. Featherlightly, he presses down on your clit, and you cry out quietly.

You fall back against the headboard again, your hands in his hair and tugging at the strands at the nape of his neck. One blink of his eyes passes and he’s snaking an arm under you, pulling you down and flat onto your back.

“You alright, yeah?” Jungkook makes sure, elated when you nod enthusiastically. “Good. Very good.”

His face is close to yours but doesn’t remain there: As he caresses your clit, shaking up your lower belly, his mouth dives in and finds home between your tits. He breathes you in before he presses a kiss against the shirt hiding your skin.

“Jungkook…”

“Mmmh.” He looks up at your chin, your head thrown back. “Say, Pumpkin…” He blows at your left nipple, well aware that you never wear a bra at home, and watches it perk under the shirt. Then, his teeth catch the material before he lets go and speaks on. “May I see those pretty tits of yours?”

“Nnnh,” is all you can give back. “Yes.”

Happily, the unoccupied hand lifts the white tee until he touches the underside of your boobs; his touch covers something you reckon he might enjoy. With his face hovering over yours, you wonder how long it will take him to notice.

Nothing yet at least.

His hand pauses there and then lifts the shirt over your mounds. He palms one of them, relishing your mewls. The sigh lets his voice fall some more, enticing when his mind numbing talk continues, “Hello there, girls.”

Jesus fucking Christ…

Why is this so hot to you?

His hair tickles your clavicles before his tongue does the same to your hard nubs. Wrapping his lips around your nipple, he pulls at it, then releases it to repeat it all. All while his fingers float down to your hole.

And then…

Palms pushing your thighs apart under the crumbled up blanket, he doesn’t wait another second before he drops to his side next to you and dips his middle finger inside. Slowly at first, easing you into the process, but it does nothing to avoid the sudden term that falls out of you.

“Fuck, baby, this is–”

You realize your mistake–mistake?–when his finger halts mid action. But once he proceeds, lifting his head to kiss your jaw, you don’t see a single trace of embarrassment or shame. No, he rather jumps onto the train with you.

“Easy, kitten.”

The new nickname forces your head to fall sideways to face him – your lips come to touch, but he doesn’t take it a step further. His eyelids fall half close, mouth not moving against yours; but you can’t really kiss anyway with the way he urges moan after moan out of you.

His finger starts pumping in and out of you, your walls contracting around him. There’s thought in his actions. He doesn’t just push in and pull out like a wildling – no, the curve of his digit, the tempo he chooses and the patch he massages inside you must be calculated.

Adding a second finger does nothing but amplify this feeling.

In his hold, you’re a little less squirmy than you might be without his touch. He keeps you grounded, controlling the wiggle of your body, allowing you to bite into your fist until he grabs your wrist and pushes it against the mattress.

“Nuh-uh,” he warns. Your eyes crack open a slit. “Stop muffling your sounds. Why would you?”

“I’m just…” You shake your head. “Self-conscious… Okay?” God, words are hard. “Y’don’t see me naked… Every day.”

“Absolutely outrageous if you ask me,” he breathes, knuckles deep inside you. There, he remains, merely moving his fingers inside without pulling out anymore. You hide half your face in the pillow. “Fuck, look at me.”

The danger and irritation in his voice sober up a piece of your mind, but the sudden emptiness when his fingers vanish shake you awake with a snap. An utterly wet touch trails along your thigh and then up your sides. He doesn’t give a fuck about the state of his blanket.

Letting go of your wrist, he pushes aside the fallen phone that his ass touches, and stops with everything altogether. Reaches behind him and then shoves the device to a far top corner of the bed.

“That’s good,” Jungkook whispers once he’s cozy with you again. Watching your breathing, dizzy form. “We don’t have to charge the phone and waste electricity that way, right?”

“Shut up…” is all your brain and tongue allow.

He clicks his tongue. “Alright, you killjoy.” A sudden slap to your overflowing pussy renders you speechless. But not him. “I’ll use my mouth elsewhere then, k?”

You’re still a mess in disbelief. Can’t comprehend that he’s actually saying those words in this exact constellation. You might think you’re dreaming if the squeezes of his hands and the dampness of his tongue didn’t prove you otherwise.

Crawling down your body, he makes sure to ruin every patch of your skin. He licks along your collarbones and gently bites at your tits. His palms love the feeling of your chest, nails digging in… And he only stops when he reaches a very particular something.

You feel his movements freeze clearly. He smacks his lips, and when you look at him, he looks surprised. Delightfully so.

“What’s that?”

There it is.

He watches your lips curl to a satisfied smile and your eyelids shut as he brushes his finger over the spot under your tits. Squinting, he removes more of the blanket, hoping the dim light of the candle might allow him a deeper look.

The black color isn’t as faded as the ink on his hand or arm, so it must be a recent sin you went for. You hum in innocence, opening your eyes again to barely catch the shake of his head as he repeats his question.

“What is that, huh?” He exhales the last word, breathing against you. Then kisses the skin underneath the tattoo. “You weren’t even gonna tell me about it?”

“Figured you might find out one day…”

He laughs quietly, hiding his fascination. But you know he’s still mesmerized, staring at the little thing, distracted even when he responds. “Is that so? You tease.”

Dipping down, an open mouthed kiss lands on top of your tattoo. His hands push your tits together, his mouth working on worshiping the tiny piece of skin that has captured him. His kiss is greedy to the touch, his breaths cold against the saliva he left once he lifts his face again.

“A crown, yeah? That what it is, isn’t it?”

The pleasant satisfaction in his voice is apparent, but you think you even hear bits of irritation – like he’s annoyed that you didn’t tell him about this. Like he’d dove into you earlier if you had.

“Hey, a lil feeling of royalty is never…” You stop when he pecks your tummy. His lips run along your stomach until they reach your pelvis. “Ohhhfff… You’re close.”

“I’ll keep going, alright?”

You let out more incoherent sounds, something between a moan and a hum. The anticipation is unbearable, but the fact that Jungkook is still fully dressed and his cock yet aching to be discovered by you might be worse.

With the blanket fully off of you, his lips explore your body, so close to where you want him. His right hand still lingers where the tattoo is eternalized in your skin, and according to his next words, his mind isn’t less hung up on it, either.

“Your tattoo matches mine, y’know?” He informs you as if you haven’t seen the crown on his index finger a few million times. The digit that’s digging into your hungry cunt again, along with another finger showcasing an emoji that must be looking like you right now. “We can both be royalty, don’t you think, princess?”

“My God, shut up,” you order. Your insides cringe, even though you’re sure you wouldn’t be opposed to him calling you that godforsaken nickname once again.

His giggle is Jungkook-ish sweet, but the hands that pry your legs open are not. Less even when he pushes them down onto the mattress as much as your joints allow, distracting you from the pull of your muscles when his nose nuzzles your pelvis.

The tip of his tongue touches your sacred part first. It’s just a slight dip, testing the waters. But your ocean is wild and its waves crash against the pit of your stomach.

“Didn’t think you’d be responsive right away,” he admits, only pausing to place a gentle kiss on your clit. “Then again, I haven’t seen a dude at our place in ages.”

“Asshole,” you curse, eliciting another deep snicker that vibrates right against your cunt.

Then, the jokes end and his stance changes. He takes a deep breath and then lowers his head once and for all. Leaving a trace of kisses riles you up enough, though things only get worse once his tongue darts out, starting a gentle dance in a captivating pattern.

He collects spit on the muscle in his mouth, pulling out the fingers out of you to spread your folds. Watching your pussy shimmer and leak, he laps up the arousal meant for just him. His cock stretches his favorite joggers, and he moves his hips against the bed for relief.

Buried deep, he moves to your clit to close his lips around it for a moment before he french kisses your pussy. Then, he repeats it all – only this time, the tip of his tongue moves in a perfect circle around your sensitive nub for a bit longer.

Slowly, softly, and then he stops.

“Wait…” you interrupt, blindly grabbing a patch of his hair. “Do that again. Please.”

The hushed desperation in your voice makes his sweatpants strain impossibly. His balls already ache.

“Like that?”

“Yeah… Yep.”

You arch your back and let your mouth fall open when his fingers return inside you, tongue imitating the motions from before. For a while, your moans and uncontrolled, quiet, peaceful sounds motivate and inflame him.

But once he begins yearning for your taste again, he swaps. His curved digits pull out of you, thumb taking his mouth’s place and vice versa. Which feels… Just as dangerous.

His tongue presses into you, a hand shoving up your right, closing leg. Your thigh stiffens when it feels his fingers deep in your flesh, and when it relaxes again, it falls over his shoulder and onto his back softly.

Zealously, you plant your heel against his shirt, trying not to think about the muscles of his back too hard. Yet, drowning in fervor, you can’t help but push his shirt up, irritated that he’s still wearing so damn much when you’ve already exposed the last of your being to him.

He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t acknowledge your hints yet. Because his focus is still somewhere else – understandably so.

“I knew you’d taste like that,” he confesses when he surfaces to take a breath.

He knew?

You’re panting more than him. Speaking comes to you harder than to him. “Like what?”

“Like absolute heaven,” he exhales at your waterfall-sex, hot and shiver inducing. “Pussy gifted by the angels.”

Oh, you bet he says that to everyone…

“Please don’t treat me like one, though,” you beg.

“Like an angel? Don’t worry. I fear you’re far filthier than I might expect.”

When his words collide with his repeated actions, your eyes water. You whine at the onslaught on your pussy, squirming, and shake your head when your insides somersault.

“I… I don’t think I can anymore,” you foolishly say.

Your ears seem to block out any sound, your body revolting. The pressure in your stomach is intense, to say the least. Your fingers and toys surely don’t feel that way.

“It feels like that because you can. I promise,” Jungkook, however, assures.

“This is the… I’ve never…”

It’s true. You’ve never had a build up or an orgasm like this before. Of course not: How could you if he’s drinking in every drop of the arousal dribbling out of you while rendering you wetter at the same time?

He sounds so goddamn lewd when he makes out with your cunt like that. Too filthy… You wonder how his lips will feel against yours if he’s able to do such magic down below already.

“It’s gonna be good… Okay?”

He’s wrong. Good is an absolute understatement.

The force with which your orgasm hits is worse than being run over by a truck. You internally slap everyone in your past who missed to make you feel that way.

You implode and explode, a swarm of cacophonic sounds oozing out of your mouth. You grab his sheets and his blanket so hard that the thoughts in the back of your head fear you might rip something.

Jungkook groans and moans along with you, his mouth and fingers attached to you no matter how much you move. A single tear flees between your shut eyelids, arousal not stopping to trickle out of you.

You’re still calling his name once the high comes down… Still holding the sheet, your vision still blurry. He licks and rides you through the end of the blast for a few more seconds. And when he’s done and you look at him, he’s covered in a shimmer.

Such a pretty boy.

“Hey,” he whispers joyfully once he comes up. “Hello.”

“Hey. You, jail,” you breathe.

You don’t waste a moment before you take off his shirt, eager and hungry. He laughs, cocking an eyebrow. “Why jail? Did I give you a bombastic orgasm or what?” He moves to lay half on top of you and licks his lips. “Shouldn’t I get free lap dances or something?”

“Jail for not doing this earlier.”

“Ah. Apologies. I’ll be at your service whenever from now on.”

The vow makes your tummy flutter. From now on? So he wants to do that again?

Nah. You must be dreaming. A fall night's fever dream.

“Good,” you mutter before you close the distance mutually.

He cages you in, beginning the kiss softly but urgently. His tongue doesn’t hesitate to seek out yours, and he tilts his head to deepen the gesture. Both your hands wander to the other’s face and hair, lips eating up each and every thrum.

His chest is warm against yours, hard pecs pressing against your nipples. It feels good, feeling him so close and intimate with you. No layers separating your upper bodies, melting into one… And that kiss…

As he pours all passion into it, you think you taste a bit of you on him, but said taste mingles with a lot of other things. The spices of dinner. The lingering sweetness of dessert. His thirst. The ardency that refuses to leave his motions.

“Hey,” he mumbles when he breaks the kiss. “I…”

“Hmm?”

“I really want you. So, so bad.”

The carnal desire is hidden in the moment for sure. But right now, listening to the softness in his voice, all you can and want to hear is unbridled longing.

Insatiable, you nod. “I want you, too. Please?”

“You… You don’t need to beg for it, Pumpkin.” His hips move against yours and you wrap your legs around him tighter. “Seriously, no need–”

His joggers are rough against your swollen pussy, but their harshness doesn’t compare to the thick bulge pushing into you. Moving down your wandering fingers, you push at the remaining clothing, shoving until you feel the bare, firm, muscular ass under your palms.

Hell, there’s so much you want to do. Like, slap it.

Lifting a little, he lets you free his cock, his sweatpants and underwear somewhere a little over his knees now. You’re ready to let him fuck you unconscious and into another universe before you realize you might not be all that ready just yet.

Because the throbbing, hot length falls heavy against your stomach. It’s thick and big and entirely unexpected. Not that he’s never boasted about it before or ran around without underwear beneath his pajamas. But fuck, you thought it’s the usual shit men say.

You didn’t think he was actually hiding something this… Generous.

“Wow, I–” You begin, but to no avail. Your screaming pussy distracts you.

“Huh? Yeah, what is it?” Jungkook purrs against your neck.

“Just. Can I…”

Your hand prowls from his ass to his cock, and you begin to guide it to your pussy slowly, opening up your legs more. Okay. You’re ready. You are. You are.

Only, Jungkook is not.

He shakes his head immediately, then nods towards the drawer inhabiting the condoms. You understand and roll your eyes, scoffing. “I wasn’t gonna do it anyways. But I’m… I am on the pill.”

“Yes. But you also forget to take it a lot.”

“Fair.” God, you just want him to drill you. Why’s starting so hard? “But I’m fine.”

“I am, too.” He groans when he moves over you, reaching to the drawer. “Still.”

You watch as he takes the package out, the foil carefully held between his fingertips. And in those brief seconds, you think.

His last hook up wasn’t so long ago. You wonder if he ever goes in raw with other girls… Wonder why he doesn’t with you but insists on protection. Less like he doesn’t trust you but more like he doesn’t trust himself.

You don’t ponder on your bumbling thoughts for too long before he smiles and sidetracks. “Hey, have you showered?”

“No. Why?” You answer, certain that the furrow of your eyebrows lays your confusion bare.

“You said you needed to.”

“And?”

“It’s gotten warm inside.” Aha… You think you know where this is going. But just for fun’s sake, you play dumb. “I still need my proper shower, too, by the way.”

“Okay… But we’re saving up on water, right?” You stare up at him in innocence. Godgodgodgod. He’s really doing that.

Jungkook slaps your ass, and you yelp. “Don’t play stupid. You know what I’m saying.”

“Kook–”

“What? We clean up together… Save water. I don’t have to shower again in the morning and can sleep in. It sounds like an amazing idea, if you ask me.”

You contemplate his idea. In all honesty, you know that he’s aware of your teasing and fake hesitation – but you think he likes the act. If it was up to him, he’d probably want you tapping your chin and all, cartoonesque.

“You do shower long…” You then conclude.

“Yeah. And so do you.”

“So…”

“So what do you say, Pumpkin Pie?”

“Mmmh. Okay.”

His eyes blow wide. “Really?”

You grimace at him. He’s adorable. After all he’s said and done, he’s still astonished at your response? An actual dork. But you still nod.

“Oomph,” he says. “Imagining you under the shower.” He’s talking more to himself than anything. “Might be just a bit more insane than imagining you naked in general.”

More than a decade of being friends and a couple of years of living together should’ve suggested at least once that thoughts can’t stay pure 24/7. Especially when hormones raged and you grew a pair of tits, you should’ve known his mind derailed a little on at least one occasion.

Still, you’re surprised.

“Did you imagine me naked before?” You wonder.

“Are you kidding me?”

The answer shoots out of him like a bullet, almost as fast as he lifts his body to come to a stand. You don’t bother about an answer when he grabs the condom and something else, then offers you a hand, pulling you up butt naked before guiding you to the bathroom.

“Calm down,” you joke. One hand covers your nipples, even though you’re not sure why. What’s done is done already, and you can’t and don’t want to burn the image of you exposed from his mind.

“Too late.” Once in front of the bathroom, he stops, lifting a finger. It’s funny how casual your conversation is and how naked you are. “Wait here.”

Twenty seconds pass, and he returns with two candles in his hands, planting and lighting them up on the washing machine. This idea better not backfire.

The small room is cooler than his own, and the porcelain sink he pushes you against when you enter, placing the condom and the small bottle he brought at the edge of it, is even worse.

You shiver and hiss before his fingers grip your chin. He pulls your face to his own, bringing your hand to his crotch as his kiss catches your breath.

His warm, towering cock twitches in your palm, making you moan into his mouth. You attempt to unify your bodies, shifting closer, but he keeps pushing you backwards. Your back arches over the sink, and the kiss stops, his lips opening yours, suffocating against you.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know?” He maffles, stepping back but not without pulling you along.

You can’t wait to step back into his room later to investigate where your discarded clothes lay.

For now, you smile, delighted when his lopsided smirk matches yours. He kisses the tip of your nose before he draws a deep breath. Brings the both of you into the shower and then lets hot water rain down on you.

The liquid burns hot on your shoulder first, and Jungkook exclaims something incomprehensible as he regulates the temperature pouring out of the faucet. The procedure remains calm and quiet, unusual for a bickering pair like you.

But once he gets soaked under the water, shaking his hair out of his eyes just to push it back with his hands… You can’t keep your mouth shut anymore.

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

He puts a hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, stepping closer carefully. For a second, you think he looks at you like nothing else in the universe matters.

Your stomach bubbles… Your heart pounds.

“Hmm… Yeah?”

“I imagined you,” you tell him. “Us… Like that before, too.”

“Really? How?” He whispers back. Your vision is blurry – you don’t know if it’s the water’s or the moment’s craze’s fault.

All you know is that you want to remember his touch on your face, the shower warming your chest, trickling into your soul.

He keeps brushing back your drenched tresses lovingly and softly. You almost forget how to act purely horny, enabling tenderness and feelings until your nipples press against his torso and his cock moves against you again.

“I feel like you’d enjoy,” you near his ear, breathing, “sucking on my tits as much as I would.”

He grins.

“I’m more of an ass guy, though.”

On cue, he grabs a handful of your rear, pulling out a weird sound out of you that you regret immediately. He doesn’t bother as much as you. He’s busy staring at your lips and getting familiar with your ass.

“Right,” you say, distracted by the (intentional?) movements of his cock. You want to… You really want to… “Can I– can I suck you, ass guy?”

The embrace around you loosens up. According to his expression, he probably didn’t predict your question; but you think a man with a dick like his should expect that everyone wants to suck him dry.

But anyways–

Perhaps his surprise is a good thing, because the way his mouth drops open when you bring your hand to his shaft is priceless.

“Wow,” he expresses under his breath. “I’d be fucking stupid to say no, right?”

“Yes. I’m pretty good at this.”

You wrap your fingers and palm around his hardness, twisting your hand and alternating the pace. Your thumb runs over his slit, tempted to taste what already leaks out. One smile is all he gets before you choose to drop to your knees instead. Sacrificing their flawless state.

He shifts to the wall until his back hits its coolness, speechless when you look up at him, trying your hardest not to ogle at the delicious cock angry in front of you, and then stretch out your tongue.

You press it to the underside of his cock, making sure he feels you breathing, and then you shove his member into your mouth before it can slap back against his stomach.

Holy fuck, he really is hard.

“I believe you…” He says, his breaths rigid. “Barely doing anything, but it’s…”

So good.

First, you focus on the head. Swirling your tongue around it, you hum, hearing him hiss above you. You do your best, but you don’t know just how much you actually affect him.

Because from above, Jungkook’s point of view is something he doesn’t think he could even dream of. The sounds of you quietly gagging and slurping, constantly moaning and vibrating around him rile him up. The fact that you’re struggling to control your breathing, because you’re too immersed, apprehensive to stop.

And your lips, God, your lips, they wrap around him perfectly. He wonders what it’d look like if you were wearing lipstick, or how your non-waterproof mascara would run down your cheeks if he fucked your mouth.

You pull him out to catch a breath, using the pause to stroke him lightly. Leaning closer, you take a moment to rub the tip against your nipple – he seems to like it, because the bite of his lip is firm.

Then, you move your gentle touch to his balls and speak. “Is that alright?”

“I… alright?” He croaks, furrowing his eyebrows. “How about you suck me dry every fucking day, huh?”

“If I’m allowed to.”

You laugh a little, inhaling through your nose before you dive in again. This time, you let him in as much as you can take. Small fireworks explode on your tongue when his precum touches it, his cock twitching more between your lips as you suck harder.

“You are… Fuck, of course you are…” He permits, throwing back his head. Tattooed digits sneak into your hair, and when he pulls your head back, you disconnect from his cock with a plop sound. “But pause for now, k? Wanna fu–”

He can’t speak, so you guess you succeeded. But you get it… You’d rather he fucked you too instead of coming in your mouth.

A hand wrapped around your neck gently pulls you up to your feet. His jaw is clenched and sharp, and his eyes are piercing. He looks so fucking hot wet like that, drawing out his tongue to run it between his lips.

His mouth lures you in automatically, your gaze frozen on it and already imagining his taste. But he’s a step ahead–though in another twisted way–when he turns you around without a warning.

He pins your tits against the wall and tugs at your hips until you’re angled just right for him. Then, he leans in to voice one single order. “Stay like that.”

His wish is your command, anytime.

Panting, you let the water pour onto you, waiting. The small bottle he brought, undoubtedly lube, is placed in the shower caddy next to you, and before you can blink twice, you hear a package ripping open.

“Hurry,” you beg, recognizing the amused chuckle you definitely expected.

“Chill,” he says. “Gimme just a moment, princess.”

“Stop.”

Another sneer, more apparent complications, but in the meantime he distracts you with words that leave you unstable. “Fuck, I wish I could go in just like that.”

You want to say he can. But you don’t want to risk another rejection like before… Your heart and ego can only take this much.

For now, you push the thoughts aside, only focusing on the fact that you’ll be railed by Jeon fucking Jungkook. That he’s turned you around to finally weaken your knees, to batter your pussy, that you’ll actually be having sex with him in no time.

Or whenever he figures out a solution to his problem.

He turns away the showerhead and curses at the condom or whatever, and you laugh, still bent in an uncomfortable position.

“Harder than you thought, huh?” You joke.

As a response, he exhales, then grabs your waist as he delivers a verbal answer. “My dick or putting this shit on? Because yeah.”

Apparently, dealing with the condom wasn’t too impossible after all. Because once it’s done, his hands are on you again, one pulling you in further by your hip while the other spreads your pussy folds.

Then, his fingers disappear, grabbing the bottle of lube to fiddle with the liquid and placing it back in no time. You can hear the sounds that smearing it onto his dick causes.

And then you hear it even worse when he brings those exact digits back to your cunt. He contributes the rest of the lube by rolling his fingertips around your entrance and then pumping into you a couple of times. You moan out, and impatience grows faster.

“Okay,” he says, his voice still steady. “You tell me to stop if it ever hurts, alright?”

You nod, and he whispers, “Perfect.”

And then, it happens.

And it takes ages.

Not really due to hesitation or anything like that, but more because the cock intruding your walls just doesn’t stop. The shaft, rich in thickness and length, penetrates you deep, already overwhelming, and you’re sure he isn’t even halfway through.

“That enough?” He asks.

You shake your head. No. You don’t think anything will ever be enough, no matter how intense and mind numbing things become. More, you want all of him.

“More,” you repeat, speaking out loud.

“Seriously…?”

Yeah. You’re as much in disbelief as him. But your body – it knows what it’s pleading for, what signals it’s sending to your brain and then to your tongue.

“Please,” you beg. “I’ll tell you if I feel uncomfortable. I promise.”

A groan. A deeper push. He fills you to the brink, engulfed by you perfectly. The ideal lock to his key… Everything inside you tingles and aches.

When he’s bottomed out, he shifts and you feel the movement inside you. Mewling, you whisper his name, his ears perking up as his already drained voice calls back to you.

“Move?” He wants to know, his entire sentence abandoned.

“Move.”

So he does.

Long, slow, languid and careful strokes. He pants behind you. The shower water is still a bit too hot, but it doesn’t compare to whatever the fuck he’s kindling inside you.

Whenever he returns back deep, you lose your mind a bit more. And whenever he notices, his pace fastens by a tiny, tiny fraction. Until restraint becomes a foreign concept.

“Fuck, I wish I could…” His sentence breaks as much as you do when his hips meet yours. “Wish I could keep the imprints of your hands on the wall forever.” He thrusts into you hard once, hands pushing up your ass. “Wish I could see you pressed against it.”

He leans forward, his wet chest touching your soaked back. Kissing your cheek and neck, you slip into the craze only he can call forth. Fucked by him in the flickering candlelight, romantic for a fly on the wall, but sickeningly filthy in reality.

You’re a fool, because the thought of romance rests in the back of your mind right now – so you add to the already established sins when his hand brushes your neck.

“Jungkook…” You purr.

His movements slow down at the call of his name. You reach out an arm and turn the stream of water off – after all, you’re here to save the environment and yourself. That you’ve barely been focusing on showering is neither your fault.

Jungkook doesn’t question whatever you do. You don’t think he cares much about his surroundings anyway, everything around him is blurred but you. His lips still roam your shoulder when he shoves himself inside you balls deep and then pauses there.

You whisper his name again, drawing out another deep hum right next to his ear, and then spit it out.

“Choke me.”

You wonder. If you hadn’t turned off the water, would it have frozen to ice, too?

Because the wall and the room suddenly cool down and you swear he’s stopped breathing. You press your underarms and your forehead to the wall, eyes closing and asking yourself whether you made a mistake.

But… But maybe not.

In the next moment, Jungkook suddenly laughs a little, quiet but enticing enough to make your scalp tingle. He pushes the hair out of your face and your neck, slowly tracing your skin downward until he touches the spot over your vocal cords.

His fingers lift your head, breaking the contact to the wall. Gently rubbing your jaw with his thumb, he starts wrapping a huge hand around your neck… Silently at first before he finally answers.

“Shit, you’re so much dirtier than the good girl I know.”

No matter how simple the sentence, something in it awakens ambiguity in you. The realization that you’ve successfully surprised him. And at the same time, the urge to remain his good girl.

You want to be all of it for him; want to be the only object of affection for him.

“Can tell you the s-same.” You gasp when he squeezes the sides of your neck, just below your jawline. “This isn’t–” Biting your lip, you pause, distracted by his palm. “Not what puppy eyed boys should be doing.”

He lifts your body wordlessly, only laughing at your words in delight. Still sunken inside you, he straightens your posture just a bit, careful to not apply any kind of pressure to your windpipe. He knows what he’s doing – sex couldn’t be safer with anyone else.

At least that’s what you know, judging the choking experiences you’ve gathered with other men or women so far.

He leans into you, kissing your temple as he hammers into you again. The squeezes around your neck differ: His motions follow a varying pattern; your veins pulsate.

You imagine his clenched jaw or his furrowed eyebrows. The furious look on his face that doesn’t really suggest anger but blissful pleasure. You imagine his teeth trapping his lower lip, dimples on his cheeks, wet dark hair restricting his vision.

All that combined with all the godless things he says.

“I can’t believe we haven’t done this before… But…”

A sharp thrust pushes you forward, and one of your hands reaches behind you to grip his hip. Good God, he’s so fucking large. Human anatomy and logic aside, he must be battering your guts along with your pussy.

“But I knew I’d fuck you one day.”

Oh.

He has no remorse. He’s either too trapped in you to notice what he’s doing to you or he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Either way, your faltering soul can barely still handle him.

“You fucking devil,” you only respond.

And the devil has the audacity to leave your neck to slap your tits. How dare.

You yelp and your sound continues when he pinches your nipples, soft at first before his nips become harder. Defenseless in his grip, your knees almost buckle, especially when he talks to you again.

“My God, you’re letting me do fucking anything I want.”

“It’s… It’s the dick,” you tell him, already embarrassed. “Too good.”

“Ah? Thanks.” Letting his hands drop from your sensitive tits, he finds your clit again – you think you might cry. “Little reward for being so good for me?”

You want him to elaborate, but you soon learn what that reward consists of anyway.

He caresses your clit slowly and gently, accompanied by occasional light slaps. No rest for the wicked seems to be his motto today, not that you can complain.

Because a minute later, his fingers combined with the reckless, now fast paced plunges throw your world into chaos once more. You scream out his name, barely able to breathe. “Kook, I’m… I–”

“I know. Let go for me, Pumpkin. You’re all good, okay?”

His promises and soft reassurances make you fall harder into the fondness you already feel for him. If there was ever a point of return, he’s annihilated it once and for all now.

Who are you to doubt him? So you let another mind blowing orgasm wash over you. It rolls in hard, showing in your broken moans and curling fingers. He holds you up on your melting legs, an arm around your tummy.

“Hold on for me,” he snarls against your cheek, and you try. You really try your best, but your body’s giving up, trembling at the peak’s intensity that’s shaking up your insides. “Gonna cum, too…”

One more. You can afford one more indecent idea.

“Cum on my ass, Kook.”

“Fucking hell, baby.”

That’s all. That’s all he needs.

No hesitation in sight, he steps back and out of you, angling your body again by pulling your ass back as much as possible. The condom falls somewhere next to you – you see it from the corner of your eyes before you hear the way Jeon Jungkook climaxes.

Which is: With extra guttural groans, a quivering breath, fingers digging deep into the flesh of your butt and–what you realize when you look back at him–with super uncontrolled pumps of his cock.

“Fuuuuck,” he moans when his seed shoots hot onto your bottom.

It takes a few seconds for him to empty himself completely, and he keeps swearing, keeps saying something you barely understand.

But what you do understand, even though you’re absentmindedly focusing on his fingers spreading the cum on your back, is, “Gonna punish you for being so fucking hot one day.”

“That a promise?” You ask, still breathless.

He laughs. “Brat.”

The whole affair ends almost the way it started: Carefully and slowly, bickering thrown in here and there. But aside from the obvious fact you’re showering together, still so, so naked, there are more differences you notice when he lets the water run again to clean you up properly.

Like, his look. A smile you haven’t seen before, you think.

Very soft touches along your cheeks, fingers combing through your hair like you’re something fragile.

Questions such as, “Are you okay? Was that okay? Do you feel good, Pumpkin?”

Also… The hecking forehead kiss when you smile and nod.

The mood has shifted, albeit to something pleasant, once everything’s said and done. He puffs out a breath, discarding the neglected condom. Before he wraps you in a towel, his thumb brushes over your tattoo once more – his eyes look fascinated and affectionate, but he doesn’t comment on it again.

He doesn’t guide you back to your room but to his, drying you up thoroughly and affectionately.

He lets you leave for just a moment, telling you that you need to come back once you’ve found stuff to sleep in. His behavior is odd, but instead of questioning it, you indulge in his tender care.

But in the end, he only lets you wear your fresh pair of underwear and your shorts, snatching your shirt to throw it onto his desk. He rummages through his closet silently and only speaks once he’s handed you one of his cotton shirts.

“Take this?”

His tone is different from how he sounded the rest of the night. Not demanding, but kind of questioning. His teeth nibble at his lip and then he says, “I think you’d look good in it… Just if you’re up to it.”

He doesn’t stutter or hesitate. Like he dreamed of this for ages.

“Okay,” you mutter.

Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, he waits until you’re done, incredibly ecstatic when you smoothen the fabric over your body. He praises you, “Knew it. Beautiful.”

Then, his mouth falls shut. The joy melts into something softer. His eyes drink you in from head to toe, and he lifts both arms to tangle his fingers with yours.

You oblige, letting him pull you closer softly. Tilting your head, you speak up. “What’s up?”

But he doesn’t elaborate. “Nothing,” he only tells you with a smile.

“Okay.”

“But–”

You knew it. There’s something he’s thinking of profusely and he doesn’t want to keep it hidden. Thank God.

“Yeah?” You spur him on.

“Um… Stay here tonight.”

…Oh. Oh–

After all the things that went down tonight, his offer still strikes you like lightning. There’s a dull thump behind your chest and a growing ache in your stomach. You don’t know what it is and don’t understand why your body reacts that way.

You should be swarmed with butterflies. But instead, a ball of something strange forms inside you.

Maybe because he asks like your room isn't right next to his. Or as though you’d be gone and out of reach for miles if you stepped over the threshold of his bedroom now.

But… You’d be insane to resist.

So you let him drape the blanket over the both of you, crawling next to him.

“Lemme–” He says. You don’t get the opportunity to lay against his heartbeat, because he does it first. An arm holds your body close, his cheek pressed against your chest. “Like that. Feels good.”

He tangles his legs with yours, sighing in extreme satisfaction. You’re sure he’s dozing off when you interrupt by joking, “We didn’t save that much water after all.”

His voice is just a mumble when he speaks. “You did turn it off, though…” You chuckle quietly, and he pulls you closer to him. “I’ll use the college shower for a few days, okay?”

The things he’s ready to do for you…

In hindsight, you don’t think it’s the physical attraction you’ve been feeling for weeks that led to tonight’s fiasco. It’s not hormones or his jawline. Thinking, your emotions might date back to a time you can barely remember.

Because those subtle sacrifices he makes, the caring statements, the love he carries for you that shows in tiny, tiny things. Platonic or not, a bond like yours was bound to make you fall as hard as you did.

You think you remember what occurred that set you on fire so much hotter recently. Just right now… It might not be the time to speak about it yet, so you stuff the secret memory back into your mind.

Zeroing in on the mention of college, you stretch sideways, telling him to hold on a moment.

“Hm?” He mumbles.

“Setting an alarm.” The phone screen lights up your face and you squint one eye shut. “We’re still college students, Jungkook.”

“Mmmh,” he groans in displeasure. “Do we need to go?”

“I mean, do you wanna graduate?”

“I don’t know. I could strip for money.”

You laugh, holding him closer to you than before. Fondness seeps into him, and you notice when he digs his ear harder into your chest.

“Saw you naked, so speaking out of experience,” you support, “I think people would like that.”

He hums again. You feel his lips graze the shirt he gave you. “Would you be my manager?”

“If I get free shows.”

Nodding, he assures, “Of course. You can count on me, mon capitaine.”

“Oohhh,” you praise, tapping his bare bicep. “You can’t just quote The Beauty and the Beast and expect me to stay solid.”

He breathes out a throaty laugh, sounding right from his chest. “Stay solid?”

“Yeah. Look.” You palm his soft cheek, ignoring the way he leans into your touch. Ignoring what it does to you. And he’s smiling, too. “Do you feel me melting?”

“You’re so damn funny, you know?” He tells you.

Your face warms at his compliment, and you think you could fall asleep in satisfaction after all. That is. If there wasn’t what he says next of course. Out of fucking nowhere.

“Hey…” He begins and hesitates. His voice is quiet and drowsy, ready to drift off. “All that happened won’t change anything, right? Between us? Because I’m… I’m sorry if it makes things weird.”

Your heart skips a beat… He might have heard it.

That’s what he wants? To not change shit?

To remain platonic, friendly, close but not close enough. It won’t change anything? Because you thought it would.

But what are you supposed to say? Here, with him in your arms. You can’t start an argument or disrupt the evening you gifted each other. The preciousness of it can’t fade…

“No,” is what you say for that reason. “Of course not.”

“Good. Good, that’s important.” You don’t think he’s aware of what he’s saying. He sounds so tired, worn out after all the things he did today. The way he bids tonight goodbye is proof of that. “Night, Pumpkin.”

“Good night, Kook.”

Why did things happen the way they did? How did you let your guard fall? When did he decide it’d be okay to take a step further in his bed, in the bathroom, in the shower, only to go back to ground zero?

All those questions could plague your mind as you begin slumbering away. But they don’t.

Not yet.

–

pt1 || pt2 || pt3

–

author’s note: I am! sorry for the ending🥴 if you made it to the end of my very first real fic, thank you sowww much! did you enjoy it? let me know what you think--send an ask or reblog if you’d like, i’m really excited to know what you have to say bc feedback and support means everything💕

[sitp-recs]

hi, can you by any chance recommend any drarry fics where they're both professors?

Absolutely, anon! I hope you enjoy:

Professor Potter and his Magical Menagerie by @dracogotgame (T, 7.5k)

Harry Potter descends on Hogwarts with a horde of magical beasts. Professor Malfoy is not amused.

More Than That by joosetta (E, 11k)

This is a story about two 52 year old men who refuse to age gracefully.

Homecoming by November Snowflake (E, 27k)

Harry thinks spending two weeks as a guest lecturer at Hogwarts will offer the perfect chance to get away from his troubles. Then he meets his assigned faculty guide: Potions Master Draco Malfoy.

Phoenix in the Fire by @lqtraintracks (E, 28k)

Harry never expected to have a hot summer fling with Draco Malfoy when he agreed to mind the castle with him. He also never expected that it would all have to end on August thirty-first. What happens when casual sex with Harry’s ex-enemy turns not casual after all? And how the hell is he going to stop Draco from making one of the biggest mistakes of his life?

Boom Clap (The Sound of My Heart) by Femme and noeon (E, 39k)

Post-war Hogwarts has been energized by its new teaching fellows program. Where once bitter enmity divided the wizarding community, Malfoy and Potter chummily patrol hallways together whilst Granger and Zabini seek lost parts of the castle at McGonagall’s behest and Chang supervises Quidditch when not lecturing in Charms.

Of Roses and Dragonfire by xErised (E, 53k)

Years after That Kiss, Potter (and his new pet snake) appears again, this time as Hogwarts's Quidditch and Muggle Games instructor (what are Muggle Games anyway? Is this why Potter is swimming in the Great Lake wearing such a tiny pair of pants?), disrupting Draco's peaceful life as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.

A Lick and a Promise by @tackytigerfic (E, 55k)

Something sinister stirs in Hogwarts! When magical creatures and students at the school are hit with a debilitating blood curse, Minerva McGonagall approaches the Ministry for help. Star Auror Harry Potter seems to be the obvious choice to go undercover—as DADA Professor, naturally. He’s going to need the help of the Ministry’s foremost expert in blood magic to get to the bottom of the mystery, though, and he’s not entirely convinced that going back to Hogwarts with Draco Malfoy is a good idea.

Finely Drawn Lines by @the-sinking-ship (E, 61k)

Draco doesn’t consider himself an artist (though the dozens of sketchbooks lining his shelves might suggest differently). Yet ever since Potter returned to Hogwarts, accepting a teaching position alongside Draco, his drawings have taken on a rather singular focus.

Transfigurations by Resonant (E, 71k)

Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

Lessons in Humility by playout (E, 86k)

After the dissolution of his marriage and a good bit of soul-searching, Harry returns to Hogwarts as the new Defense teacher. Go figure, it happens to be the same year Draco takes over the role of Potions Master. Neither man is happy about this turn of events. Will they be able to set aside their differences and learn a thing or two about trust and humility on the way?

All Life is Yours to Miss by Saras_Girl (M, 114k)

Professor Malfoy's world is contained, controlled, and as solitary as he can make it, but when an act of petty revenge goes horribly awry, he and his trusty six-legged friend are thrown into Hogwarts life at the deep end and must learn to live, love and let go.

A Secondary Education by Thunderbird587 (E, 234k)

Fleeing the aftermath of his recent divorce, Draco Malfoy takes up a post as the new Potions Master at Hogwarts. At first he believes his hopes for a fresh start are dashed when he sees that a certain boyhood rival is on staff there as well. But Harry Potter is being weirdly nice to him, leaving Draco no choice but to play along.

[misguidedasgardian]

From the Ashes (II)

II. Mother's little helper

MASTERLIST

Summary: The situation with John is still pretty rocky, lucky for you, Djinns had been said to grant your wishes 

Pairings for this chapter: Dean x reader, John x reader (you'll understand)

Warnings: Supernatural (and all that comes with it), monsters of all kinds, pyrokinesis, cursing, murder, child endangerment, impersonating of law enforcers, guns, mentions of virginity loss, birth, blood drinking, might miss some warnings

Wordcount: 2,9 k

Notes: I re-wrote the first one

2001, Jackson Hole, Wyoming

You woke up with a smile on your face, it was an exciting day after all, you almost jump out of bed, energized by the smell of breakfast, you could hear your mother singing in the kitchen downstairs. You wanted to jump to the first floor but you knew she wouldn’t like that, so you ran as fast as you could and in a second you were right by her side

“Good morning mama!”, you chanted, she smiled at you grabbing your face and kissing your cheek

“Good morning my love”, she said, with the brightest smile, “excited for today? I can’t believe my daughter is going to Stanford!”

“It’s not a big deal!” you said coyly, but you knew it was

“I’m so proud of you”, she said, looking at you with loving eyes

“Thank you mommy”, you whispered, she hugged you tightly, kissing the top of your head

“You have to get me one of those stickers for the car, the ones that read “my daughter is in stanford” or a t-shirt!”, she said excitedly, as she served you breakfast, scrambled eggs, bacon and toast, you made the coffee, and you shared an amazing time.

“You know, california is beautiful, if you want, we can sell the house and I can move down there with you”, she offered

“Mom, you love it here, is where our family was from”, you said softly, “besides this house is a dream, with how expensive everything is in San Francisco, we’ll get a place like a ⅓ of the size”, you explained

“Oh I get it, my daughter doesn’t want me going down there and spoiling her fun!”, she teased,

“No!”, you giggled, “that is not it”

“I get it love”, she said softly, caressing the side of your face, “you are going to be great”, she said 

“Thank you”, you said, smiling widely. You had spend the last two years traveling the world after you ended high school, and now you were ready to start college, not any college, you had been accepted to Stanford

And you were so excited

“Remember to use your gloves honey”, she said sweetly, kissing you on your forehead, already saying your goodbyes, “and also, remember to keep away from photos as much as you can, alright?”, she asked, “you know now in the new age, everyone wants their picture taken to upload it to the internet and the internet…”

“Is forever”’, you completed, “I remember”

“Have fun, and take care sweety”, she said lovingly, and you hugged her one last time to leave your home

You got into your car, your Pontiac firebird a family friend had gotten you for your birthday and started your journey

You were driving to California, you loved roadtrips, good music, your baby, an open road… amazing

You reached San Francisco three days later. Just in time for orientation, as you were getting out of your car, you stumbled upon a large dude, he was tall! like a tree!

“I’m so sorry!”, you mumbled at the same time, his dark eyes met you down

“Nice ride!”, he admired, you felt your cheeks heated

“Thank you”, you whispered, looking back at your baby, “are you here for orientation?”

“Yes actually, you too?”, you nodded enthusiastically, “great, I’m Sam, Sam Winchester”, he said offering his hand, you shook it back, muttering your name back to him, he looked at the gloves weirdly, it might be fall but it was still warm

“What’s with the gloves?”, he asked curiously

“Oh I… well, it was an accident, I was four, my mom was cooking, she turned for one second…”, you said like you have told that lie a thousand ways before, “my hands… are weird looking but also very sensitive”

“Oh”, he said, like he had messed up, “sorry”

“Don’t sweat it”, you said softly, “it’s a common question”, you walked into the campus together, you were looking at everything with a mouth wide open, it was an incredible campus

Turns out, you and Sam met the first day, and you sticked together every day since, he wanted to become a Lawyer, you wanted to become an architect, but you made it work, you studied together, you hang around together and you started to build a group of friends around you

And just like that, four whole years happened, Sam started dating Jess, and they were super happy, and you were already enlisting yourself to be the maid of honor, and you… well… you were hanging around with a guy, but you weren’t too sure about him

Henry

He was so handsome and tall, he was the perfect man, a gentleman, and yet… you still weren’t so sure about him, there was something missing. 

You were actually discussing this with Jess, you were together, the three of you, when Sam’s apartment doorbell rang. Sam frowned, going for the door, and when he came back, he wasn’t alone. 

“Well, hello gorgeous”, he purred your way when Jess and Sam were in the kitchen

“Hi”, you muttered simply. He was handsome, deep green eyes, spiky hair, leather jacket, very hip. VERY handsome

“Are you… Sam’s friend?”, he asked

“Yes, we met first year here”, you said simply, he only nodded, a smirk on his lips, you even felt nervous with him.

“I’m Sam’s brother”, he said and you nodded, acknowledging him

“Here”, said Sam, bringing him a beer. You couldn’t stop staring at him, and him you. Sam noticed this, and seemed uncomfortable

“What brings you here Dean?”, he asked nervously, just then Dean looks at his brother

“I can’t pay a visit to my little brother?”, he asked  cheerfully, “let’s turn this around, order a couple of pizzas, drink some beer, you can invite some friends”, he said lightly

And turn it around you did

Soon the small apartment was packed, Dean was the soul of the party, that let you have a chat with Sam

“He just got out of SFS”, Sam said apologetically, “he majored in mechanical engineering”, he said lightly. You sneaked a peek at Dean and he was looking back at you, he smirked 

“Is that so?”, you mumbled, he chuckled, you looked back at him

“I know that sneaky look in your eyes”, he said

“He is handsome”, you said, he seemed entertained, “is he going to break my heart?”, you asked

“No”, he said softly

And he didn’t. Dean worked at a garage with his father while you attempted to finish school, by the time you were graduating, Sam proposed to Jess, even though they were very young, they were so in love, they got married, and when you attended their wedding in a beautiful deep purple dress -as a maid of honor-, you and Dean, both attended the wedding together, you had been dating for a year now, you danced all night, you in his arms, and he asked you, to move in with him, you of course said yes.  

You met his father, John, at the very wedding, he was happy. Their mother had died when they were children, he never remarried. But he seemed so happy to be there, with his two boys, and with their girls. 

Your mother had told you, many years ago, as a bedtime story, that you, as a phoenix, mated for life, you feel a pull, a string leading you to that person, and you’ll be happy together. You believed that, you wanted it. Dean holds you in his arms, kissing the top of your head.

“I love you”, he whispered

“I love you too”, you said happily. 

You told him you were a phoenix, he didn’t care.

He found it fascinating.

You lived happily, you moved in together, you worked in your dream job, restoring old buildings in San Francisco, Dean worked in his father’s shop. He asked you to marry him, you eloped in Vegas. With Sam, Jess and your parents. 

You were living in an apartment on top of the shop, it was so comfortable, it was your home.

You found out you were pregnant, with twin girls

Your mother was there, she lived with you to help you with the girls, she was by your side when you gave birth. Dean loved her, and… you could honestly look up into the skies and give thanks, because you were the luckiest woman on the earth.

Dean was so over the moon, he was the greatest girl's dad you had ever seen. You fell even more for him, if that was even possible.

You had friends that you adored, you had the most handsome and incredible husband, which you loved with all your heart, you had a caring father in law. And you had two perfect little girls that took after their fathers, and you had your mother. 

Your life was perfect. 

“Really?”, she asked him, “you are giving her dreams instead of nightmares?”, she mocked, watching you on the floor, sleeping peacefully, “you are getting weak”, she whispered in her mate’s ear. Who had your wrist on his mouth, he had managed to break the skin, he was feeding from you. 

“She is too powerful”, the Djinn responded, blood dripping down the corner of his lip, “if she gets distressed she will break out of the trance”

“What is she?”, she asked back, fascinated

“I don’t know”, he answered, “but her blood… is delicious”. The other Djinn turned to John, laying on the floor next to you

“Let’s see how you taste old man”, she purred

John looked at the big farmhouse with curiosity, he went up the three wooden steps that lead to the porch and then inside of the house.

It was his parents house, they were gone now, but the house was lit up with life inside of it. The house had been abandoned but now, it had been brought back to life.

“Sweetheart? is that you?”, he heard a melodic voice coming from the kitchen. He looked everywhere, the house was completely renovated, it was beautiful, more beautiful than he remembered.

“Yes”, he answered, he didn't even know why, maybe it was a force of habit. 

He stopped by the mirror in the corridor and he looked at himself in it, there he was, himself. when he was thirty.

What the hell was going on?

He heard footsteps from the corridor leading to the kitchen, and then, his breath got caught in his throat when he saw you, coming towards him, with a beautiful smile, and a big baby bump. You look older than you were, at least thirty 

“We missed you”, you said with a bright smile, you were wearing an apron, you had flour staining it, you took his face gently in your hand and you kissed him, his hands traveled to your hips

“Hello darlin”, he whispered against your lips

“Papa!”, he heard footsteps tapping around in the corridor. Two children appeared, which he could recognize anywhere, Sam and Dean, looking as cute as buttons. Dean was eight and Sam was four. 

“(y/n) is baking my favorite pie”, said Dean Happily, John dropped his bag of tools, grabbing Sammy on his strong arms, and followed you into the kitchen. He found it weird that he called you by your name instead of… and then he saw a picture of Mary on the wall, with the boys. Where you…?

“Your little girl had been kicking me all day long!”, you said happily, finishing up in the kitchen

“Little girl?”, he asked, curiously

“Well, I know you can never know for sure”, you said softly, “but this old lady told me she thought it was a girl, and well, many things, we did the ring test, and rhe shape of the belly too…”, you muttered. He looked at your shape from where he was sitting. He must be dreaming. He looked at his boys, eating the chicken and potatoes you had made them. 

This had to be a dream

But he didn’t want to scare you.

He looked at your shape again, you were a woman now, grown, which let him know you were no longer a supernatural creature.Your huge belly, he looked at his boys, who looked back at him wide eyed, and smiling

He felt… happy.

“What happened?”, he dared to ask you, when you were both ready for bed, in the master bedroom.

“What do you mean?”, you asked softly. He was clearly… with you… but the boys existed too, and… “remember that this week, well, of course you remembered but I called the florist already”, yous aid gently

“What florist?”, he asked

“For… Mary’s memorial”, you said, looking at him sadly. Mary died, he remarried… you…. he had the boys and now he was expecting a girl… with you.

“Alright, thank you”, he said, leaning in and kissing your lips, you felt asleep cuddled by his side, your big belly over his stomach.

He was putting flowers on Mary’s grave. His friends and remaining family were there. but you weren’t, you didn’t feel well, and he realized you wanted to give him space, which he appreciated. It had been four years since Mary’s death, he believed it was a bit too soon to be married to you, but right now, he didn’t know what happened.

He worked in his own mechanic shop, his own, he was so proud of himself for achieving it, he came back to you and the kids every night, he went to his kid’s games, he even coached little league. 

He found you in the kitchen, your water broke, and you whined in pain.

He took you to the hospital, he left the kids with the neighbors, a loving couple you liked so much, that you barbequed with.

It was a girl, a beautiful little girl who looked like you.

He was happy, really happy. He’s got the cake, and he ate it too.

He woke up early that one morning, you were so tired, Violet kept waking you up for feeding in the middle of the night, but there you were, sleeping soundly next to him

“Dad!”, he heard, in the back of his mind, “DAD!”, the last thing he saw was your sleeping face, before Dean was shaking him awake. 

He was back in the present, and two Djinns lay dead, one, killed by the Dean, the other… copious amounts of blood were dripping from his mouth, like he just throw it all up, he was right next to you, your wrist… was healing but it had been bitten onto, severely.

Dean was over you now, shaking you awake

“Mom?”, you felt like you would die, you were so weak, your eyelids were heavy, very heavy

“No darling, it’s me”, you heard that gruff voice, Dean, tried to make you sit, but he had to grab you, you couldn’t keep your own body up

“Mmmm Dean?”, you asked, feeling so faint, like your brain was made of cotton

“Shh, I got you”, he shushed gently, “those bastards got you good”, lifting you from the ground. “Dad, are you ok?”, he asked

“Yes I’m fine Dean, take care of her!”, he insisted, the Djinns didn’t get to him in time. 

“What were they?”, you asked, as they both started walking away. 

“Djinns, got you and dad”, Dean carried you like you were a princess, out of the large Warehouse. It came back, all of it, you had come to Denver, in Colorado, to find and kill the Djinns that were draining dry innocent people. 

“I’m sorry”, you whined

“It’s fine, thanks to you, I got the time to rescue dad and gank them”, he said

“What happened?”, you asked then

“They fed off of you, they seemed rabid for it”, he said, he laid you in the back of the Impala, and closed the door gently, you curled up, hugging yourself, it seemed impossible, but you might have been experiencing cold for the very first time

Both John and Dean got inside the car, John in the passenger seat, he turned over the leather seat and looked at you

“Sweetheart, are you alright?”, he asked, concern in his features

“Mhm”, you mumbled, barely

“I’m sorry”, he muttered

“It’s fine”, you whispered

“Is she going to be alright?”, he asked Dean, he shook his head

“I will”, you promised, “I need a minute”

“I didn’t even know monsters could feed off of phoenixes”, John said, Dean started the car and leaving the scene quickly

“They did, but one of them died because of it, he started screaming, like he was being burned, and then he just collapsed and died”, he said quickly, “like her blood was poison or something”

“Mmmm I need a sandwich”, you mumbled, really out of it

“What kind of sandwich?”, asked Dean

“Mmmm meat… cheese… mayo”, you barely whisper, “and a strawberry milkshake”

“That sounds… pretty good”, Dean said happily. “Let’s get away from this crap-ass city”, he said 

John kept looking back at you. You just dozed off, only in a couple of hours, you were going to be brand new. 

Post chapter notes: Soooo Reader wished her mom never died. And John fleetingly wished he met the reader “before”, didn’t specify much.

Maybe this chapter is a bit weird, its similar to the one where Dean gets trapped by a Djinn and he alucinates... anyways... happy reading

taglist! <3

@deans-spinster-witch

[kkumawrites]

cw. none wc. 742

Lunch, to Wonwoo’s pleasant surprise, had been rather nice. As usual, he didn’t talk very much, instead letting Mingyu lead the conversation with you as he listened to both of you ramble on about nothing in particular. Weirdly he had found himself glancing over towards you every so often, watching the animated way you talked. Not that he would ever admit that, he hated how often he caught himself staring a little too long at you. 

You, on the other hand, had just finished lunch, courtesy of Mingyu who provided bentos. You were itching to take a look at the garden, eyes wandering over to the entrance. Both boys could tell you wanted to go have a look. 

“Hey, is it alright with you if I go check out the garden? I promise I won’t be long,” you ask, even though you’re already halfway out of your seat. Mingyu was about to stand up as well but Wonwoo was quicker than him, pulling the taller male back down into his chair. 

“Yeah, it’s no problem. We’ll just hang out here,” He said in his typical deep, even tone. Mingyu has a pout on his face but you don’t even notice, zooming away once you’ve gotten permission. Once you’re out of sight Wonwoo doesn’t waste another moment as he moves and starts to dig through your bag. 

“...Are you sure this is a good idea hyung?” Mingyu asks nervously, fiddling with his fingers as his eyes nervously dart around in case you suddenly popped up again out of nowhere. 

“It’ll be fine,” He says even though he’s not 100% sure about that. Before he can doubt himself any longer he opens your bag and is instantly confused. You’ve got a notebook and a little pencil case, typical for a college student. Yet, you’ve also got about 10 different bottles, all of various sizes, shapes and different colors. “What are these?” Wonwoo wonders, picking up one that’s a light shade of pink in a small vial. 

“I’ve seen her drink a few of these. Like that time when she was stressed about a pop-quiz, she downed one of these and looked energized. Maybe they’re like vitamins or something?”

“Here, drink it then,” The elder puts the pink drink into Mingyu’s hand.

“WHAT” 

“I’m sure it’s fine, like you said you’ve seen her drink one before,” Wonwoo shrugs, urging him to drink it.

“But why me…” He whines but Wonwoo doesn’t give in, continuing to push the strange concoction into his hands.

“To prove to you something is weird with her. Just drink it,” 

Mingyu sighs, looking down at the tiny bottle of an unnatural pink color. He grimaces before undoing the cork and sliding it down his throat. The two stand there for a minute, just staring at each other. 

“It didn’t really taste like anything, vaguely sweet” 

“Do you…feel different?”

“Not really,”

Before either of them can say anything else you come skipping back from the garden, quite happy. 

“WOW, it’s so pretty! You said there’s a gardening club? I should sign up,” You mention as you come back to the two boys who are suddenly frozen with your arrival. You blink, confused at why they’re just staring at you until you notice the bottle that’s clearly empty in Mingyu’s hand. Suddenly you’re pale as a sheet, eyes opening wide. You know the exact potion that was supposed to be inside the glass. 

“You didn’t drink that did you? Did you???” Your question is answered when Mingyu pushes Wonwoo aside, getting on his knees and taking your hands in his.

“YN! Have I ever told you that you’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen? Please, please let me take you on a date” He’s looking up at you with glassy eyes, a slight pink haze over them tells you he’s under the potions effect. You groan, trying to pry your fingers out of his grasp but he’s too strong as he continues to beg. 

“What the hell is going on” Wonwoo asks and as he listens to Mingyu compliment you non-stop, watching as you attempt to pry your fingers from his grasp; he realizes perhaps the drink DID do something to Mingyu. He marches up to you, slightly towering over you with a slight glare upon his face. You easily cower under the tall boy, knowing you were definitely not going to get out of this one. 

“Ok, fess up. What are you?”

Charmed! Part Fifteen: the problem with potions ✩ previous | next ✩

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[honoviadakai]

Foods I think Team Urameshi enjoys 🍜 😋

This post is kinda inspired by/a continuation of this post I made about Hiei so please enjoy my thoughts on the rest of the team’s taste in food!

Yusuke:

If the live action did nothing else, it definitely established that Yusuke’s a ramen guy 😂

He likes both the instant stuff and the traditional kind but the latter is his go to if he can afford it

The instant ones are good but they doo remind him of his childhood when either his mom didn’t have enough money to feed him properly or she was too intoxicated to feed him properly

He also really likes American food

If you get him a good burger, some fries and some soda, he’s your friend for life

He LOVES a good cheesy pizza! The greasier and cheesier the better

Honestly he just LOVES heavy, greasy, heart food

It makes him feel full and weirdly energized

He could eat an entire family bucket of fried chicken by himself, sides and all, and feel pumped up for a good workout 🏋️‍♂️

He also loves spicy food

His spice tolerance is average but he genuinely likes the burn 🔥

If he sees a spicy challenge, he’s gonna do it just to see how far he can go

He’s currently at a level 7 out of 10 on the 🌶️ meter

He’s also very open to exploring weird food combinations and food from other cultures

This includes food from the demon world

He actually kinda likes food from demon world, he just feels like it could use some more spices

Catch him trying Nutella and bologna because Chu swears that the last time he went to the human world he tried it and it was delicious

…he actually tried it…and he liked it…

9 times out of 10 he’s gonna try and actually like the cursed foods you recommend to him

Kuwabara:

He’s a big sandwich connoisseur 🥪 🧐

He just likes how customizable and portable they are

Honestly he likes meals that are not only balanced, but a comfort to the soul

So things like stews, ramen, soba, curry and pasta dishes

One of his personal favorites things to both eat and make are bento boxes 🍱

He loves making them for his friends and family for a number of reasons

For one, it’s his way of making sure his loved ones are eating enough

Some of his friends come from low income households that don’t always have enough money for food

He made sure that whenever they hung out, they were always well fed

He also learned how to make bentos from his mom and sister

He really enjoyed the cooking lessons and he enjoys the warm fuzzy feelings he gets when he feeds his loved ones

The one food he won’t make or consume is anything spicy

He can’t handle spicy food and doesn’t feel confident enough to properly make a spicy dish

Honestly he can’t eat anything spicier than a jalapeño

But he will try to beat Yusuke and Hiei in spice challenges

…my boy never wins and I don’t know why he thinks he will at this point 😂

Kurama:

Like seemingly everything else about this guy, his palate is very refined

He likes expensive things like lobster, caviar, and liver tartare

Part of why he likes it is Yoko has expensive taste and old habits die hard 😂

In Yoko’s correct opinion, if you’re gonna feed him, you might as well break out the good stuff

The other reason is that a lot of these foods have very strong flavors and he enjoys that every now and then

That by no means mean he hates “Lowe quality” foods

He use to eat McDonald’s as a kid

He liked it

Still eats it from time to time

Not as often as Yusuke does, but like…if friends invite him out for a burger, he’ll eat it

Big enjoyer of fruit, grows it himself actually!

The fresher the better 😌👌

He loves ice cream! 🍨 specially strawberry, vanilla and most fruity sorbets

He actually has a bit of a sweet tooth tbh

Thank his mom for that cuz she’d give her baby boy sweets if he looked at her with his big puppy eyes

Mf didn’t even have to say a word

She’d either buy them or make them for him

Even into his adulthood, he can demolish a tray of cookies and macaroons on his own

The difference is that as a child he didn’t care about his weight or how much sugar he’s eating

As an adult, he absolutely cares because he wants to stay in shape and also his body is technically human so he doesn’t wanna deal with diabetes if he can avoid it

Now he also technically grew up with demon world food when he was Yoko

Demon world food is whatever you can find that’s edible

So usually it’s other demons and edible plants/produce

Some of which does that pretty good

But a lot of it is more for survival than taste

He’s absolutely had to eat a bug demon before and not only did it look gross, it tasted gross!

But it was either that or starve…

And believe me…he did debate it…but food doesn’t always just die for you so…🐛🐛🐛

Boy was he grateful that humans in Japan eat some of the best food he’s ever seen

Human food has also made Kurama appreciate the artistry that can go into food

When he sees the chef went out of their way to make the food look like a literal work of art, he’s always so amazed!

He actually has a hard time eating something if it looks super pretty

Expect him to take a few pictures before he eats btw 🤣

He also has an shockingly high spice tolerance

He can eat authentic Thai food without sweating

But certain peppers will automatically have him on his knees

He can and has grown his own peppers to see if he can make spicier peppers than what’s available

He has, but internet trends make people competitive enough to dethrone him by next week 🤣

Hiei:

Oh this guy ain’t picky

Honestly he’ll eat burnt food if he’s hungry enough

He can also eat 10xs his own body weight

Want proof?

Togashi himself knows this little gremlin is a bottomless pit of angst and hangry

He could easily eat you and 12 of your friends out of house and home and still have the audacity to wonder why ya’ll stressed 🙄

Hello grew up in an environment where food was not guaranteed every day so any food he got, he wasn’t wasting a crumb

Even if he’d been given a giant demon bug leg, best believe he’s eating it

Waste not want not as they say

The only food he’s very sus about is mushrooms 🍄

Especially when talking about demon world mushrooms, a lot of them are very hard to identify wether they’re poisonous or so he tends to avoid them

Unless Kurama is there to tell him it’s poisonous or not

He’ll never admit it out loud but he LOVES human food so much!

It’s so flavorful!

His favorite dishes are meaty rice and noodle dishes

Honestly any dishes with meat are an instant hit with him 🍖

But his all time favorite dishes are the spicy ones

The spicier the better 🌶️🌶️🌶️

His spice tolerance is otherworldly

I’m 99.99% sure he could eat lava and not react

To this day, Yusuke and Kurama are trying to find a dish or pepper spicy enough to make Hiei sweat

They so far have not been successful 😔

Honestly not sure they will succeed any time soon

Mf pops Carolina reapers into his mouth like popcorn 🍿 🌶️

[terrence-silver]

Okay because nick mirini has play dnd before and plays downfall do you think Terry has played it before and tried to get John to play with him when they were younger

Like I could see terry having a collection of dnd items in his mansion in like room like he has with his katana collection 👀

And terry playing dungeons lord also like I feel like Kenny would have got him into it 👀 like this man would be the most competitive person ever on that game

---

I mean, Terry Silver was a fully formed adult in the 80's, at the cultural zeitgeist of Arcade games, Dungeons and Dragons, various Low Fantasy genres, Street Fighter, the Martial Arts movie craze, Dance Aerobics, Star Wars, heavy metal music, and the first ever video games as we know them so really, it is highly probable he has interacted with these parts of American culture by osmosis in the least. Like, it would be extremely unbelievable if a man in Los Angeles didn't (the same way I cannot possibly imagine Johnny Lawrence, a native of LA, not knowing what an Uber is in the 2020's, year of our Lord, no matter how airheaded he is meant to be; it just isn't believable). Canonically, Terry mentioned the Superbowl and Starbucks at least once, so that's something. His Wah-Wah mockingly directed at Mr. Miyagi a vague nod to Bruce Lee movies. An indicator Terry Silver is aware of popular culture, in-universe. Like, there's something there.

Now, if he actually indulged in these thing is another matter altogether.

For John Kreese, my answer would be mostly negative. He seems like a man stuck in the past whenever we encounter him, like he purposefully, pridefully and very spitefully emerged from a bubble whenever he is reintroduced, giving me the impression of someone who reviles the progress of the 'times' and sticks to his own ways (even if his ways are the more difficult, but I feel that's exactly how John Kreese likes it too) and the old ideals he considers worthy and timeless. He likes the things he knows and has known all his life. He's a newspaper kind of guys and probably has been for sixty years or something as crazy long as that. Listens to music slightly, or very out of date, enjoys movies slightly, or very out of date and generally consumes media out of date too. When everyone was raving on about Star Wars, man was still rewatching old Westerns, or something of the type. That's what I envision. Likes the feeling of reading paper under his fingers. Doesn't care what the 'kids nowadays' do for fun or how they do it because he considers it a waste of time no matter the decade, be it in the 70's, 80's, 2000's or present day. He strikes me as a dyed-in-the-bone contrarian and if he ever indulged in the subcultures of the 80's it is because likely, Terry pushed and coaxed him into it with great difficulty, capitulating to Terry like a grumpy older sibling would to the more energized, younger one, seated in front of Terry's state of the art Dungeons and Dragons board, in his equally state of the art multi million dollar playroom, ready to go along with it, because hey, after all, it's his friend, Twig. John might've prefered a good, old card game if he personally had to choose, but for Terry --- hey, ho, he'll endure it and mainly do so purely to be vaguely amused at how into the game Terry himself is. It is not that John Kreese is unaware of popular culture, he just chooses to remain uninvolved and he strikes me as the type who doesn't care. He's entrenched in his ways and there's no changing that. So, nope, probably ain't a fan of Dungeons and Dragons and never was. Sorry.

Now, Terry Silver? That's different.

I think he does care and has a weirdly juvenile and even geeky streak to him, not in the classical sense where he was ever actually a nerd the way we know nerds (especially in 80's media), but Terry Silver's a jock with very stereotypically nerdy interests, weapons collection and all. Wouldn't surprise me if he had custom made arcade game boxes installed somewhere on his mansion's compound premises for Snake and Dennis to use, if they played Monopoly with actual stacks of money, courtesy of Mr. Silver, if Terry Silver actually relished in Hong Kong martial arts movies in the 70's, watching them ironically in, say, his personal home theatre, to mock them but in actuality, rather enjoying them beneath layers of gleeful disdain or if his so called D&D items included actual antiques, expensive collectibles obtained on high end biddings and stuff that genuinely cost a fortune. Or, hey, why just play Street Fighter on a personal Arcade console, when he can take on the whole aesthetic. He could've jumped out of a game and you couldn't tell me otherwise. Terry Silver embodies the times far more so than John, whatever the times may be --- after all, when we first see him, he's funding and kickstarting an app. Nobody needs to introduce Terry to the concept of games or popular culture because he was already well present for all the OG classics and while I don't necessarily see him playing video games present day, I can genuinely see him doing something as fringe and bizarre as buying the company that produced Kenny's Dungeon Lords and becoming that odd footnote in history when that one Billionaire randomly took ownership of a video game production studio as a business venture.

But, in the 80's?

I flat out see Terry Silver doing something even more laughably bizarre and donning his working class, poor man's clothes, sneaking out to an arcade club on a weekend, wrecking all the participants there solely because he must win, regardless what he's winning at, or investing weeks on a really petty, impish scheme of walking out victorious out of a D&D tournament purely because that currently tickled his fancy and what makes him laugh most as of recent-- becomes a long forgotten urban legend that a guy that was once on a tournament so happened to be someone famous some dude who knows a dude swears he saw and recognized at a ribbon cutting ceremony broadcasted on TV for some refinery plant out in Borneo, but nobody can confirm or deny this tall tale.

[lili863]

Flower 🌼

Ok, so a little story here of my MC and Ominis, is that while Ominis has a few nicknames for MC, like darling, love etc. He mostly calls her flower like for example, My little flower, or hello Flower, goodbye flower etc lol.

And the reason for that is Ominis notices a little quirk where MC get up from bed first thing in the morning and before anything just hangs out by the window for a little bit to soak in the Sun which is something she always does if the sun is out.

On rainy or cloudy mornings she always needs cuddles to compensate 🫣

Not only does soaking in the morning sun feel good but weirdly for MC, it energizes her, just like a flower getting its first ray of sun, haha.

On those mornings, Ominis notices MC is in an extra good mood and is ready to start the day.

They both joke about it, and Ominis found this quite endearing about her, so thats how he came up with the nickname flower 🌼 and always greets her first thing in the morning when he finds her out of bed and by the window

"Good morning flower"

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

A little drabble

MC and Ominis enjoyed their days off from their work in their cozy home by the cliffside in the highlands. And being that it was sunday, today was the perfect day to just relax.

MC stirs in her bed, groggily opening her eyes, taking in the sight of a gloomy morning peeking through the window. With a small groan, she sighs and turns around to find Ominis already awake, propped up against the headboard, with a book in his hands.

Already noticeing her sour mood, Ominis couldn't help but chuckle lightly as he felt her shuffling closer to him. She wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled up against his side.

A gentle hand felt for her back before running up her spine and finally finding her head, tucking the disheleved hair behind her ears.

"No sun today, little flower"?

His gentle yet slightly amused tone caused MC to softly grunt in return hinting her slight annyoance.

Leaning down, Ominis presses a kiss on top of her forehead, making MC sigh with a small smile.

With the comfortable silence that ensued after, Ominis lightly stroked her hair until to fell back to sleep.

------

Later that day, after MC and Ominis finished lunch, MC and Ominis found themselves engrossed in their respective tasks. MC took on the task of organizing their home library, carefully arranging books and restoring order to the once cluttered shelves when gradually soft rays of sunshine gradually filtered through the expansive windows, casting a gentle glow that illuminated the previously dim space

She sighs in content sweeping her gaze across the room when her eyes were drawn to the sight of a sunbeam gracefully illuminating the couch where Ominis was seated.

Feeling the warmth of the sun, Ominis drew his head up from his book, pausing for a second before searching for MC presence. As if he had already anticipated her approach, he gently set aside his book, a soft smile gracing his lips hearing her walk towards him.

The only thing that could make this day perfect for him was to have her in his arms and relish every single aspect of her.

She paused in your steps, wondering if she would be bothering Ominis and his reading when Ominis reaches out his hands and beckoned you with a soft voice. "Come here Flower"

With a few strides, she makes her way to her lover, whom eagerly awaits her with open arms before catching her wrists and gently tugging her to straddle him comfortably.

Her legs were on resting besides either side of his hips, and she leaned down and rested her head on his chest, basking in the warm sensation of his body and the sun with a soft sigh.

His heartbeat was steady yet strong, almost lulling her to sleep.

With his hands gently resting on her thighs, he started to stroke them tenderly, feeling her gradually drifting off to sleep, her breath becoming even. In that moment, Ominis wished he could freeze time and stay like this forever. As he turned his head, he softly murmured against her hair

"Sweet dreams Flower". 🌼

[ohmeadows]

[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

i wasn't tagged, i just wanted to do it 😌

How many works do you have on AO3? 10 currently. if we’re counting all past accounts and orphaned works… easily 50-60.

What is your AO3 word count? currently 149,834. if we account for the grand total, well. more. ha.

What fandoms do you write for? i’ve been in quite a few, mostly video game ones, but right now it’s mostly only honkai star rail on my mind though i have the odd rhaenicent idea rattling around.

What are your top five fics by kudos? you and me are a twisted fantasy (kafhime enemies to milkies), i’m on a leash called you (kafhime with dom himeko), da capo al fine (kafhime time loops), the dew of dying stars (ruanliu mara body horrors and cannibalism), and spark (kafxuan horny).

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? yes, i try to most of the time! i had a lapse this fall where i just didn’t have enough energy to do it for months on end, but i cleared my inbox of that backlog on january 1st. i’m trying to be more consistent going forward.

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? none i can link bc orphaned or on old accounts, but i do love a good angsty ending if it makes sense for the way the story has been going. kinda aching to write one again i won’t lie.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? most of them are quite happy in terms of endings! i know people doomed so hard about da capo was going to have a sad tragic ending but that was… never in the cards for me. i already have it written and i’m very excited about getting there.

Do you get hate on fics? sort of. i wish people would offer up critiques instead of just leaving comments like “ew this is unhygienic”, “disgusting”, “can’t believe i read 8 chapters just for BOTTOM KAFKA” or whatever else pointless stuff i’ve deleted.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? mostly, yes. i think 99% of my writing stems from a very clear and vivid image of a sex scene, and then me building backwards to root that sex in a way that feels natural and consistent to both characters. and i'm always looking for some new angle in smut, or else it'll bore me, so that means exploring new kinks or dynamics each time.

Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? no, i frankly hate crossovers and it’s one of my blocked tags on ao3.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? oh yeah lol. sucks! what can you do! it always amuses me because if these people just bothered to talk to me in the way of “hey, i love x idea, i want to do my own take of it, can i discuss some ideas with you?” i’d be 100% down to help nurture that. i reblogged a post about it the other day but i definitely feel that fandom community has turned into a fandom clout competition which feeds into this, too many of us looking for a quick boost in some imaginary clout chasing.

Have you ever had a fic translated? several, yes. for a while i had a bunch of old fics translated into russian. it always flatters me that people would go through that effort with my works.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before? yes, i’ve written a ton of unpublished wips with others and enjoyed the process, and then one i co-wrote with junie and published in an old fandom. i’d love to do it again, tbh, it’s incredibly energizing and fun, but wrangling two people’s creativity together over an extended period of time is always a lot of work and agreements, as well as being able to actually produce. you both need to trust each other and deliver.

What's your all-time favourite ship? uhm. i don’t know. i really don’t. ships by themselves don’t make me feel that excited, weirdly enough, but rather what people make exist in them. i have absolutely lost interest in compelling ships because the fandom de-fanged them, pulled their punches or morphed every single aspect about them into “uwu soft healing together”. (i could go into a long rant about how healing tends to be kinda… ugly…. in interpersonal dynamics. but that’s for another time.)

What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? most of my unfinished wips i’m completely at ease with leaving behind in the dust. most. i do spend a lot of time thinking about a dorothea/rhea court drama au.

What are your writing strengths? visuals, i think. i have a very vivid inner eye when writing and the scenes play out like a movie for me, so i pay a lot of attention to the choreography and details of the scenes, where everyone’s hands are, and so on, to try and translate my inner vision to text. i can be a very harsh editor which means i’m always looking at what effect each scene is striving for — does it make sense for it to meander, or does it need to be snappier, sharper?

What are your writing weaknesses? i feel like my vocabulary could do with enrichment. i spend a lot of time looking up synonyms because they never stick in my head, and most of my reading books is spent noting down words in a notepad i’d like to use. sometimes i leave too much to be fixed in editing instead of putting it all down in the first draft. i don’t like involving too many characters so sometimes i think fics can get a bit too narrow — and sometimes i can play that for good effect, i guess.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? if you know it, sure, if you want; or at the very least use a beta who knows the language. i tried reading some fics that made use of my mother tongue and my god was it jarringly obvious google translate as well as irrelevant. i think it is worth asking twice what effect it will have for the reader and if it will come off as jarring.

First fandom you wrote for? lord of the rings! man i loved my mary sue silly era.

Favourite fic you've ever written? completed: spark. the amount of research i poured into it, as well as dedicating myself to convoluting fu xuan’s internal voice and outlook on things was some real hard work, but satisfying in the end. incomplete: the dew of dying stars. this one pushed me to research more, think harder about what i wanted to convey, and make them be worse. it’s been a very fun shift in how much i allow myself to dig deep, and relaxing and trusting the audience more. truly a new level of sicko weirdo fic for me.

[bard-llama]

WiP Wednesday: The Blue Spirit is a Bitch LMAO

This WiP Wednesday brought to you by “wouldn’t it be funny if only Zuko could see the Blue Spirit and they’re just damned annoying?”

So far, I’m working on Chapter 6 of this, so here’s some random scenes that make me laugh and/or cry.

From the very beginning, taking place during/before Zuko Alone.

In Zuko’s defense, if he’d known that the Blue Spirit was real, he never would’ve used their name! In point of fact, the correct name for his mask was the Dark Water Spirit, but that seemed like a technicality that wouldn’t matter to the spirit he’d apparently offended.

You steal my name, my face… the spirit rumbled, something about their voice sending chills down his spine, I will take you up on the offer.

Zuko gulped. He hadn’t meant to offer anything.

Somehow, he didn’t think they cared.

You want to be the Blue Spirit, they said, and the thing in front of Zuko grinned a wide, creepy grin. Wish granted.

Very abruptly, Zuko’s constant headache spiked enough to make his vision white out.

When he blinked back to awareness, he was lying on his back in the grass and the sun had begun to start peeking over the horizon. Perhaps that was what had woken him, because typically, Agni’s rays energized him.

He could use some energizing right now, because he felt like he’d been hit with a fucking airship traveling full speed.

“Ugh,” he groaned, rubbing his head. “What–?”

Oh come now, it’s not that bad, that chilling voice from earlier spoke and Zuko’s eyes snapped open to see that the bizarre creature in front of him – it almost looked human, except for the complete lack of features beyond the freaky smile – was still there, but had also become solid in a way they weren’t before. When he moved, they followed him. You’re stuck with me, they grinned.

Oh Agni, what had Zuko gotten himself into?

Given his complete lack of supplies, heading for the nearest town seemed sensible, but as soon as he grew close enough to hear the bustle of people, he knew it was a mistake. He could see something weird surrounding each person, a kind of colorful haze that – oh. Oh, dammit, had Ty Lee been right about auras this whole time!?

Ugh, if so, he owed her a massive apology, because he’d always dismissed the silly idea.

It was disorienting, but Zuko fixed his eyes on the ground, only glancing up briefly to ensure he was going in the right direction and not going to hit anyone. No one reacted to his new ‘friend’, despite the clearly inhuman appearance of them.

Yeah, no one else can see me, the Blue Spirit said casually, stretching strangely blob-like hands over their head. Ah, it feels good to move around. I’ve been cooped up in that stupid grove for way too long.

Zuko frowned, wondering if he should ask – but the last thing he needed was to draw attention by talking to himself.

Maybe the spirit would go away and it would become a moot point?

He snorted quietly. Yeah, his life was never that kind.

From Ch 2, where The Chase takes place

A few days later, he actually felt fairly stable with the whole seeing auras thing and the spirit that only he could perceive haunting him.

Actually, it was… weirdly kind of nice? To not be alone. Even though the Blue Spirit was creepy, it was nice to have someone during the long trek across the rocky plains.

A flutter of something beige caught his attention and his hand snapped out automatically to grab what turned out to be… hair?

Specifically, bison hair. The Avatar was nearby.

Heart suddenly pounding with hope, Zuko wondered if perhaps this was his chance to change everything. If he could just capture the Avatar, then – then – then what? He was considered a traitor to the Fire Nation with orders to be executed on sight. What could he actually do if he did manage to catch the Avatar?

Which was far from guaranteed. He’d never successfully held the Avatar for more than a few hours before, and even then, he’d had a blizzard to help him.

Huh, the Avatar really is back? The Blue Spirit asked. Where have they fucking been?

“Uh,” Zuko coughed. He wasn’t wholly sure, but… “I think they got frozen or something?”

…you’re kidding, right?

Zuko just shrugged, changing direction to follow the trail of bison fur. Maybe he didn’t know what to do if he caught the Avatar… but he had to try.

He literally had no other purpose in this world now.

Well, I wouldn’t quite say that, the Blue Spirit grinned. He was starting to get used to seeing that grin on a face with no other features, including no eyes, but it was still creepy. You are the Blue Spirit now.

Zuko frowned. “What does that mean?”

Their grin just widened and Zuko tried not to worry too much about it, but his hackles were definitely up when he spotted the abandoned village in the distance. The Avatar had probably gone there, which meant Zuko would be going there.

For three years, his entire purpose had been pursuing the Avatar. He didn’t know how to stop doing that, especially when he had nothing else. So maybe he didn’t have a great chance of capturing Aang (based on all of their past encounters and Zuko’s usual luck), but he had to at least try.

Never give up without a fight. Intriguing concept.

Zuko scowled at the Blue Spirit, stomping towards town.

Then he saw blue fire blossom above one of the buildings and suddenly, he had cause to run. If Azula was here, if Azula was after the Avatar – no. He had to stop her. Without the Avatar, he had no way of ever returning home. He couldn’t let her take that hope from him, even if it was a frail and fading hope.

When Zuko made his appearance on the scene, Azula and Aang were facing off down a street – so he threw a blast of fire between them and jumped down from the neighboring rooftop, landing lightly on his feet.

Concerned primarily with not breaking his legs, Zuko hadn’t really made notice of what his fire looked like. But Azula had.

“White fire? Really, Zuzu? Can you grow anymore freakish?”

He bared his teeth, snarling at her, but part of him was startled to note that she was right. Instead of the usual orange-red, his fire came out white when he struck.

He had no idea what was up with that, but he set it aside. Maybe it was a side effect of the whole spirit possession thing.

What was important was that the white fire was even hotter than Azula’s blue fire, and he could see on her face when she realized it, her calm veneer broken by a frown. Then she moved, darting between buildings, and the chase was on.

The Avatar followed her, too, and Zuko shot a few blasts at them just to keep them out of the way and on their toes. (If some of those blasts happened to cause them to jump out of the way of Azula’s shots, then that was pure coincidence.)

Zuko’s main focus was Azula. As much as he wanted to capture the Avatar, Azula was the more prominent threat.

She laughed. “So you really are a traitor. How delightful. Father will be pleased when I bring back your corpse.”

Zuko flinched.

“What–?” the Avatar started, brow furrowed in confusion, but Zuko couldn’t look at them. He had to stay focused on Azula, or she would take advantage of his distraction.

The fight continued and he wasn’t quite sure when the others showed up, but somehow, six of them ended up backing Azula up against a wall, bending (and boomerang) at the ready.

She held her hands up with calm deliberation. “Well, look at this,” she smirked. “Enemies and traitors, all working together.” She raised her hands in a peaceful gesture, but there was no way she was actually accepting defeat. “I know when I'm beaten. You got me. A princess surrenders with honor.”

“Like fuck,” Zuko couldn’t help but retort, and her eyes narrowed.

“You’ve never known anything about honor,” she responded and he couldn’t help his flinch.

“That is not true,” Uncle said firmly, somehow here beside him along with the Avatar’s group.

Azula smirked slightly. “Do you doubt my royal word?”

“Every word you say is a lie,” Zuko said automatically, because it was true. Azula always lied.

“Oh good,” Azula said casually, “then you know I’m lying when I say that I’ve missed you, dear Brother. The palace just hasn’t been the same without you. So quiet, so tranquil – so much better without you there.”

Again, Zuko couldn’t hide his flinch and Azula’s smirk sharpened.

It was only the Blue Spirit’s warning to block that let him raise a fire wall in front of all of them, unsure of who Azula was aiming for. Her blue fire combined with his white and exploded, sending them all flying back with a wave of heat.

Zuko managed to land on his feet. He was the only one.

A quick assessment of their surroundings showed that the Avatar’s group and Uncle had fallen to the ground, and Azula was nowhere to be seen.

“Fuck,” he swore quietly, moving to help his Uncle up.

“Thank you, Nephew,” Uncle smiled at him as though things were at all normal. “It is good to see you well.”

“...yeah.”

“Azula’s gone,” announced the Avatar’s strategist – the fucker with the damned boomerang. His name was… Suki? Socket? No, that didn’t seem right.

“That doesn’t mean we can let our guards down,” the waterbender said icily, glaring at Zuko.

Which… fair enough, but suddenly, his motivation to fight the Avatar and get blown through walls was waning. He already hurt enough. He really didn’t need to add additional injuries to his collection.

Aang looked at him with innocence and a slight smile, aura bright like sunshine. “Hi, Zuko,” he greeted, as though they weren’t enemies.

Zuko had no idea what to do with that. He pinched the bridge of his nose with a silent groan.

“Who the fuck are you?” the little Earth Kingdom girl that had apparently joined the Avatar’s group asked.

“Who are you?” he asked in return.

She grinned widely and honestly, it was almost on the same level of creepy as the Blue Spirit’s smiles. He swallowed back a shudder.

“I’m Toph Beifong,” she introduced, “I’m the Greatest Earthbender in the World!”

Zuko blinked, staring at her. “Aren’t you like… ten?”

“Twelve,” she corrected. “And if you don’t believe me, I’d be delighted to demonstrate.”

Something told Zuko that this demonstration would be very painful.

“...I’ll take your word for it,” he decided. Mostly, he was too tired to deal with getting beat up, but he could admit – bright blue streaks of confidence dominated in her aura and he figured that probably meant she could back up her claims.

“So… are we fighting?”

Zuko sighed, really wishing he had a better answer than, ‘do I have to?’

Of course he had to. His Father had assigned him the task of capturing the Avatar. He could not fail. Again. He had too many failures on his record as it was.

But also… his ribs were still healing and frankly, getting blown through a building did not sound appealing.

“Was I imagining things or was your fire white?” Aang asked.

Zuko just shrugged, but yeah, it had been, and he had no idea what that was about.

White fire is not achievable by humans, the Blue Spirit said casually, walking around Aang and examining the Avatar. But you are no longer human.

Zuko’s eye widened and he almost choked at the words. What the fuck did that mean?

You’re me now, remember? The Blue Spirit’s grin was feral and Zuko gulped.

“Right,” he muttered.

And a little later:

“I have a proposal,” Uncle began. “We are all tired and worn. Perhaps we can make camp, get some rest, and deal with things later?”

Zuko sent his Uncle a disbelieving glance. No way would they consent to sleeping with him around. Why the fuck would they!? He was their enemy!

“Okay!” Aang agreed instantly.

“Not okay!” exclaimed the strategist – seriously, what was his name? Zuko really should know it. Soup? Socks? No, that was stupid.

…maybe Suki? His mind kept coming back to that, so that had to be it, right?

“Maybe two separate camps?” Toph suggested. “We can take over some of these abandoned buildings. Or I can just make us an earthen camp.”

“Do you think any of these buildings have real beds?” the waterbender asked with something longing and utterly exhausted in her voice.

When was the last time these idiots slept?

“I don’t care,” he decided, choosing a building at random and stomping into it.

As if to specifically spite him, the Blue Spirit lounged on the bed that was in fact there.

He sighed heavily, but called out, “yes on the beds.”

“Dibs on the next house!” Aang cried out immediately, and from the woosh of air Zuko could hear, he’d probably barged right in.

Zuko shook his head. Was this for real? Was he really about to make camp next to the Avatar? Why!?

Oh, I’d say it’s pretty obvious why, the Blue Spirit smirked.

Zuko frowned, confused. “What?”

What’s the Avatar’s name? They asked out of nowhere.

“Uh…” Zuko glanced around, trying to figure out the relevance. “...Aang?”

Mmhm. And what are the others’ names?

“Um,” Zuko flushed. “I mean, there’s Toph. And… Suki?”

“Are you talking to me?” Uncle called, making his way into the house.

Zuko shook his head, flushing.

The Blue Spirit smirked and suddenly he knew he was going to hate whatever was said next.

You have a crush, the Blue Spirit announced.

“What!?” Zuko flushed bright red, sputtering in disbelief. “Do not!”

The Blue Spirit just cackled, that same ghostly laughter that sent shivers down his spine.

“Nephew?” Uncle approached, a look of concern across his face.

Zuko covered his blushing face. “Nevermind,” he muttered.

Uncle’s eyebrow arched, but he let it go. “Are you tired?”

“Uh. Kinda?” He was… but he’d also noticed that he needed a lot less sleep now than he had before.

“Then let us rest,” Uncle smiled. “A man needs his rest. We can speak in the morning.”

After Zuko has a nightmare:

Fortunately, Zuko awoke with the scream trapped in his chest, the memory of his Father’s fist of fire making him shake.

He needed air, so he launched himself out of the chair and stumbled out onto the streets, where the sun was about two hours away from peeking over the horizon. Fortunately, Uncle had taught him to meditate on where the sun wasn’t as much as where it was, so Zuko chose a nice spot and settled down.

Naturally, that was when the Blue Spirit plopped themselves in front of them with – actually, with a strangely serious expression. As much of an expression as one could make with only a mouth.

That’s fucked up, the Blue Spirit opened with.

Zuko blinked. “...what is?”

Your memory.

Zuko’s eye widened. “You can see my memories!?”

Only when you dream. For now.

Well. That wasn’t ominous.

“How long am I stuck with you exactly?”

Oh, you’re never getting rid of me, the Blue Spirit laughed.

Swallowing hard, Zuko decided he couldn’t think too hard about that.

He was wrong, the Blue Spirit said, mouth flattening into a serious line again. You know that, right? Like, I don’t even have human morals and holy fuck, he was super wrong to do that to you.

Zuko frowned. “He was punishing me for disrespect,” he whispered.

Yeah, I’m a spirit of justice, the Blue Spirit said bluntly. There was nothing just about that.

“Yes there was,” Zuko objected. There had to be. Otherwise, how could everyone else have acted like it was okay?

He was always forcing his Father to punish him. It wasn’t that Father wanted to – but Father wanted him to be stronger, to stop being a disappointment.

He deserved everything Father had ever done to him.

That’s bullshit, the Blue Spirit said.

“Well, what do you know of it?” Zuko snapped. “It’s none of your fucking business.”

On the contrary, the Blue Spirit grinned. I am the spirit of vengeful justice. It is entirely my business how my host has been mistreated.

“I haven’t been,” Zuko said, but somehow it felt like a lie.

Yes, the Blue Spirit said simply, you have. But not to worry – you can now take just revenge for each slight!

“There aren’t any slights!”

Really? Not even against the Blue Fire Girl?

Zuko hesitated.

That’s what I thought.

“Ugh,” Zuko groaned. “Just… shut up.” He’d come out here to meditate, not to question everything he’d ever known.

But the thoughts wouldn’t stop circulating around his head when he tried to meditate, so he changed his plans, instead pulling out his swords.

In the prior village, he’d combined his swords and his fire together. And he hadn’t noticed if his fire was white there – more concerned with the whole stone mallet to the chest thing – but it certainly was now.

It was kind of unnerving, so Zuko stuck to playing with his swords only, doing his best to mitigate how much he pulled on his ribs. But he couldn’t afford to be idle while they healed, so he needed to learn how to fight with them.

It wasn’t the first time he’d learned to compensate for an injury limiting his mobility. (In the most memorable previous time, he’d had to figure out how to practice dual dao with one arm in a cast after Father had broken it as punishment for playing with swords when his firebending was a disappointment.)

Again, the Blue Spirit said, that’s fucked up. Like, seriously. No wonder the world has gotten so out of balance if that’s what’s leading the Fire Nation.

Zuko felt like he needed to defend his Father, but he really didn’t know what to say. It was Father. Everything he did was right by definition.

But the Blue Spirit said nothing else and Zuko let it go, shedding his shirt when sweat started to make his skin itch. Then he focused only on moving his swords the way they were supposed to move, filtering out all other input from his senses.

Which is why he jumped about three feet into the air when Aang’s voice asked out of nowhere, “what happened to you!?”

“Fuck!” Zuko swore, pressing a hand to his pounding heart. “Fucking Agni, don’t do that.”

The Avatar just frowned at him, face pinched with what almost looked like concern. “What happened?”

“None of your business,” Zuko snapped, reaching for his shirt and quickly covering his torso – and the very obvious bruises and scars scattered across it.

“Katara’s a healer,” Aang offered.

Katara. Was that the waterbender? He had read that waterbending could sometimes heal. But even if she could do it… “yeah, I don’t think that’s on offer for your enemy,” he said bluntly.

“Everyone deserves healing,” Aang disagreed. “And we won’t know until we ask.”

“Well, I’m not asking,” Zuko snapped.

“But–”

“Fuck off,” Zuko said, turning away from the Avatar. This… was actually the perfect opportunity to attack, with no one else around but them. But right now, Zuko was angry and confused and in pain and he did not have the mental capacity to deal with the Avatar trying to help his enemy. Again.

He spun his swords, moving through the katas Master Piandao had once taught him and paying the Avatar no mind. He kind of figured Aang would go back to his friends – but instead, when he finished the kata, Aang clapped.

Zuko whirled around to stare at him.

“That was really cool!” Aang enthused. “I mean, I knew from before that you were good with swords, but like – wow! You’re really good!”

“...thanks?” Zuko hazarded, uncertain of what to do with the Avatar’s praise.

Cruuuuuuuush, the Blue Spirit’s singsong voice said from way too close, and Zuko jumped again, earning him a surprised look from Aang.

Ugh. He did not have a crush.

You so do, the Blue Spirit responded, clearly amused.

“What do you want?” Zuko demanded, and he honestly didn’t know if he was asking the damned spirit or the Avatar.

Aang shrugged. “We haven’t seen you in a while.”

“...shouldn’t you consider that a good thing?”

“Hmm,” Aang paused to actually think about it. “There are positives to it,” he said eventually, “but there’s something reassuringly familiar about you chasing me.”

“...are you fucking kidding me?”

“Well, I mean, since I woke up from the ice, you and Katara and Sokka have been the most consistent things in my life,” he said, smiling brightly at Zuko.

Zuko… did not know what to do with that.

“Hey, can I ask?” Aang began, “why do you chase me anyway?”

Because the Fire Lord is a sadistic asshole, the Blue Spirit said.

Zuko froze, which apparently worried Aang, because he held his hands out, quick to assure, “you don’t have to tell me! I’m just curious.”

You know, the Blue Spirit observed, if you won’t believe me, maybe you should tell him. I guarantee he will tell you that your Father is seriously fucked up beyond belief.

That made Zuko scowl and Aang winced, leaning back and murmuring an apology.

It was ridiculous that Zuko felt guilty for making him think it was his fault that Zuko was pissed.

He wanted so badly to respond to the Blue Spirit, but there was only so much responding to things no one else could hear that could be excused. So he grit his teeth and bit out, “go away.”

Aang pouted. There was really no other word for the expression. “Aw, c’mon,” he whined. “We can talk about something else!”

“I don’t want to talk to you at all,” Zuko said without thinking and the hurt that crossed Aang’s face made something uncomfortable twist in his chest. He huffed, annoyed with everything about this situation.

“Okay,” Aang said quietly, voice small. Zuko did not feel guilty about that. “But can you at least come see Katara and get healed? It can’t be easy to fight with… all of that.”

It wasn’t, but like hell was Zuko admitting that. “I’m fine.”

“Those bruises looked really deep,” Aang pointed out.

Zuko shrugged. “Nothing broke. Probably.”

“‘Probably’!?”

He sighed, “what do you care?”

Frowning, Aang looked up at him with earnest eyes and said, “no one should be in pain.”

That actually made Zuko laugh, which was horrible for his ribs, but… “I don’t remember what it’s like not to be in pain,” he admitted. “You get used to it.”

Aang’s look of horror just reminded Zuko of how different their lives were. This was an airbender who had grown up in a world without war, in a temple where fun and serenity were considered to be the most important things.

It was such a foreign upbringing that Zuko couldn’t really understand it. His entire life had always been a struggle. He’d never been given anything for free – but the Avatar? They probably got offered free shit all the time.

Shaking his head, Zuko turned away. “Go away, Aang.”

Aang did not go away. In fact, when Zuko headed towards the house Uncle was sleeping in, the Avatar followed him.

“You know my name,” Aang said, surprise in his voice.

Zuko’s face scrunched in confusion, unsure why that mattered. Then he spotted the Blue Spirit’s wide grin parting to say something and he snapped out, “shut up.”

Aang ignored that. “Do you know the others’ names?” he asked curiously, skipping up next to Zuko.

Zuko’s fists clenched and the Blue Spirit laughed.

No, the Blue Spirit said, smugness in their voice. You just know his because you’ve got a crush.

He did not! Desperate to defend himself, he blurted out, “I know Appa and Momo!”

“You… do?” Aang blinked at him in surprise.

Zuko flushed. “Um. Admittedly, not sure which is which.”

That made Aang burst out into giggles. “Appa is my bison,” he said with a grin. “Momo is our lemur.”

And a little later:

“The world has changed so much,” Aang said, voice quiet. “It scares me.”

“I mean,” Zuko heard himself say before he knew he was going to, “even a hundred years ago, your perception of the world was probably pretty different from most people in the other nations.”

“Why?”

“Well, you’re an Air Nomad.”

“...yeah?”

Zuko flushed. “The other nations don’t really have so much emphasis on ‘fun’. Even historically. And I mean, not saying that you were ignorant of the other nations – I’m sure you visited them plenty – but Air Nomads… the other nations aren’t like that.”

“What do you mean?” Aang frowned.

Zuko sucked on his bottom lip, trying to find the right words. “Probably the closest to the Air Nomad lifestyle would be the Water Tribes. They’re communal too – or at least, the South is. I dunno much about the North that’s not eighty years out of date, and as of then, they’d moved away from that a couple thousand years ago. But that makes a pretty significant difference. When you know your needs are provided for… it’s different. But the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom… they’ve never been like that. I mean, I’m sure some places have done it on a local level before, but like, nationally, there’s no guarantee for Fire Nation or Earth Kingdom citizens that they will always have food or shelter or water or–” he spotted the look on Aang’s face and broke off. “Um. Yeah.”

“Really?” Aang whispered. “I mean, I guess I knew that a little bit? Bumi lived on the streets in Omashu a hundred years ago.”

Zuko blinked. “Bumi? As in King Bumi!?”

“Yeah, he became king at some point?” Aang shrugged. “He – he was always good at taking care of himself that I guess I never really realized… how can the Earth King and the Fire Lord not feed all their people?”

“Well, scale is definitely a factor,” Zuko said. “Like, there is a point where a society gets too big to effectively manage. I mean, there were around twenty-nine thousand Air Nomads. The Southern Water Tribes, too, were around twenty thousand at their peak. But the Fire Nation has a hundred-seventy-nine thousand people, and the Earth Kingdom has at least three-point-five million.”

Aang’s eyes were wide. “Whoa.”

“Yeah. So size is a factor. But probably also culture? Like… before the Fire Nation unified into one country, we were a little more like the Southern Water Tribes. Each island had their own clans and good rulers took care of their people. But then we came together as one nation and…” he frowned, horrified by the thought that it all went downhill from there.

“But…” Aang’s face scrunched up in confusion, “I mean, I don’t really get how having a single ruler works, but like… how can they not take care of all their people? Isn’t that the purpose of having a ruler?”

Zuko had no response to that.

He’s got a point, the Blue Spirit pointed out, watching Zuko and Aang like they were the best entertainment they’d seen in years.

…which might actually be the case, but Zuko determinedly did not care.

He scowled at the Blue Spirit, just on principle.

“What are you looking at?” Aang asked curiously, following his gaze – and probably seeing nothing more interesting than the dust-swept ground.

“Nothing,” Zuko muttered, realizing that at some point, he’d stopped walking just to talk to Aang. Frown deepening, he resumed his journey to Uncle.

Aang continued to skip alongside him until they heard Katara’s voice snarling, “where is he!?”

They shared a concerned look and ran.

Katara stood over Uncle, icicles hovering threateningly around him. The only thing that stopped Zuko from attacking was the fact that Uncle appeared entirely calm, sipping a cup of tea.

Where had he even found tea?

“Katara?” Aang called, and she whirled around.

“Aang! Are you okay?” she asked, running up to him and glaring fiercely at Zuko.

“I’m fine,” Aang said easily. “What’s wrong?”

“We woke up and you were gone and then it turned out Zuko was also gone, so…” the Water Tribe boy – Aang had said his name, hadn’t he? What was it? – shrugged, looking bored. There was clear relief on his face, though, and his boomerang was in hand.

Agni, Zuko hated that thing.

Then the boy’s words penetrated his head and he realized that he hadn’t even tried to capture the Avatar. Like, at all.

Was he really so scared of getting his ass kicked that he didn’t even bother to try!?

Yeah, I don’t think that’s the problem, the Blue Spirit said, a smirk on their face. Zuko’s brow knit in confusion and they clarified, do you really want to bring that innocent and gullible Avatar to the man who burned your face off?

Zuko couldn’t help his flinch and it garnered him strange looks, but he tried to ignore it.

What do you think your Father would do to him? the Blue Spirit asked curiously. Which body part do you think he would burn first.

Zuko’s inhale made sharp pain spread through his chest and he winced, pressing a hand to his ribs absently, more focused on the Blue Spirit than the way the Avatar looked at him with obvious concern.

He wanted to tell the Blue Spirit that they were wrong, that Father wouldn’t – wouldn’t–

Would your Father keep him alive, you think? Or let him reincarnate eventually?

“Stop,” Zuko whispered, eye wide as he processed the Blue Spirit’s words.

“Stop what?” Aang asked, standing too close to him and looking curiously between him and the presumably empty patch of street where the Blue Spirit stood. “Are you okay?”

Suddenly unspeakably angry, Zuko grit out, “I’m fine.” Then he turned on his heel and marched away – away from the Avatar, but more importantly, away from the Blue Spirit and the horrible things they said.

They were wrong. They had to be. Father wouldn’t–

But. But he’d never thought Father would burn him so badly either, and what if the Blue Spirit was right!? If – if Father could punish his son so severely… what would he do to the boy who happened to be the Fire Nation’s most wanted enemy?

Zuko had deserved his punishment, but Aang…

No, not Aang. The Avatar. The one being powerful enough to challenge the Fire Lord.

Father would have no mercy. He certainly hadn’t had any for Zuko.

And that was right. That was just.

The problem was, Zuko wasn’t sure he could sentence anyone to worse than what he got. The burn on his face had been deep enough to steal not just his sight on that side, but his hearing, too. It hurt constantly and made his whole head throb.

But he’d deserved it. Right? He’d – he’d spoken out of turn in the Fire Lord’s war room. He’d shown unforgiveable disrespect. That – that was an offense serious enough to warrant such a punishment… wasn’t it?

An hour ago, he wouldn’t have questioned it. But now? Now the Blue Spirit’s complete disapproval of his Father had instilled doubts in him.

Father wouldn’t be happy.

It was fine, though. Zuko wouldn’t succumb. He would always be loyal to his Father, as a good son should be. He wasn’t a good son, Father had made that clear, but he had to try.

So why couldn’t he dismiss the Blue Spirit’s words?

Trying to stop thinking, Zuko dove into a kata that he knew well enough to be comfortable with, but not so well that he didn’t have to pay attention to what he was doing. His fire came out bright white, but he refused to let his mind contemplate that. It didn’t matter what his fire looked like. All that mattered was that he execute the kata correctly.

Next Chapter:

Iroh was used to worrying about Zuko. In general, his nephew excelled in reckless behavior – but now especially, with everything in their life so shaken up, he felt that worry more keenly than ever.

He shouldn’t have let Zuko go alone.

“Uh…” the Earth Kingdom girl coughed, “what the fuck just happened?”

“Got me,” the Water Tribe boy said. “Zuko just started staring into space and freaking out.”

“I don’t think he was staring into space,” the Avatar said, frowning. “It seemed more like he was looking at something.”

“But there’s nothing there.”

Iroh stroked his beard, intrigued. “Nothing we could see. Which does not necessarily mean nothing at all.”

“...are you saying that Zuko’s seeing things?”

“Actually, I was thinking more about the white fire. The spirit fire.”

The Avatar gasped. “You think Zuko saw a spirit? But why couldn’t we?”

“Very few beings can see a spirit’s form without the spirit intending it.” Iroh was actually one of those beings, but he’d seen nothing either. The question was, did that mean there was nothing to see? “Some of it comes down to power – not many spirits are powerful enough to manifest physically unless something serious happens to set them off.”

“Like the fucking Hei Bai spirit,” the Water Tribe boy muttered.

“What,” the Avatar asked hesitantly, “what would it mean, if Zuko sees a spirit?”

“I’m not sure,” Iroh admitted, but now that the thought had occurred, he worried about it. What could the spirits want with his boy?

“He’s injured,” the Avatar’s quiet voice said.

“What? Who?” the waterbender blinked.

“Zuko. He looked pretty badly injured, but he wouldn’t come back to ask you to heal him, so…”

She sniffed, sticking her nose in the air. “I wouldn’t anyway.”

The Avatar frowned sadly. “He guessed that. But – but he could have broken bones, Katara!”

“...he did touch his ribs like he was in pain,” the boomerang kid said reluctantly.

Iroh fretted, but he knew nothing he could say would help this girl decide to heal her enemy, so he stayed quiet.

“So what? He chased us across the world!”

The Avatar chewed on his lip and then admitted, “he also saved me from Zhao once.”

“...what?” Iroh wasn’t the only one to look at him in surprise.

“I – I got captured by Zhao,” the Avatar explained hesitantly. “After that big storm, you remember? Where you guys got super sick? Well, I went looking for medicine and these freaky archers came after me and�� Zhao strung me up in this stronghold. And he – I was so scared,” he admitted. “I could barely move. I didn’t know what to do. But then the door opened and–”

The waterbender scoffed. “And Zuko appeared? Yeah right!”

“He did!” the Avatar insisted. “But I didn’t know it was him at first. He wore a mask and used swords instead of fire.”

“...Zuko can use swords?” the Water Tribe boy asked, looking mildly disturbed.

“Yeah! He was practicing with them earlier and wow! He’s really good! I mean, I kinda knew that, because we had to fight a lot of firebenders to escape, but like…” he shrugged.

The waterbender crossed her arms. “Well if he’s so injured, what is he doing practicing?”

The Avatar frowned. “I mentioned that. He just said that nothing was broken. Probably.”

“‘Probably’!?” Iroh couldn’t help but burst out.

“That’s what I said!” The Avatar looked distressed. “He – he said he doesn’t remember what it’s like not to be in pain.”

Iroh winced. It wasn’t that that came as a surprise, exactly, but it was difficult for him to acknowledge the reality that his boy experienced constant pain and there was nothing he could do about it.

He did not like feeling powerless.

“What does that mean?” the Water Tribe boy demanded. His sister’s face was a strange mix of horrified, disbelieving, and sad.

Iroh sighed. “Such deep burns are not without consequence,” he murmured.

“Who–?” the Avatar dared to ask.

Part of Iroh wanted so badly to tell them. Their goal was to face the Fire Lord and stop this war. They should know just how terrible Ozai was.

But… Zuko wouldn’t want his enemies to know. Zuko hadn’t yet come to realize just how unforgivable it was for his Father to do such a horrible thing. It broke Iroh’s heart, but he hoped that one day, Zuko would be ready to acknowledge that his Father was wrong.

Iroh sighed, shaking his head in response to the Avatar’s question.

The Water Tribe boy coughed. “Um. Who are you, anyway? I mean, obviously you’re always following Zuko around, but…”

That made Iroh’s lips twitch. “I am Zuko’s Uncle,” he introduced. “My name is Iroh.”

“His… Uncle?” the boy said with a strange expression on his face. “As in… his Father’s brother?”

“Indeed,” Iroh agreed.

“...younger brother, though, right?”

“Ah,” Iroh clicked his tongue. “No. Ozai is almost twenty years my junior.”

Not me just sharing practically the whole next chapter oops

“Nephew!” Uncle beamed at him, looking up from the Pai Sho board he’d found somewhere. “Would you like some tea?”

Zuko sighed, taking a seat across from Uncle (carefully holding his torso still, because fuck, his ribs hurt). He would not be playing Pai Sho, but he did want to talk to his Uncle.

“What’s on your mind, Nephew?” Uncle asked, inviting him to share.

Zuko wanted to ask. But it was also really hard to get the words to cooperate. In the end, his question was blurted out with a complete lack of tact.

“What do you think Father would do to the Avatar?”

Uncle blinked in surprise, then took a moment to think, looking contemplatively down at the board. “I am not sure I can theorize,” he said.

“He’ll,” Zuko stuttered, “he’ll do worse than he did to me, won’t he?”

“It is highly likely,” Uncle said carefully. Too carefully.

The Blue Spirit’s words ran through his mind again and he had to whisper out the question that scared him more than anything. “Was Father wrong?”

“What?”

“When – when he – I – I deserved it, right?”

“No!” Uncle said with such emphasis that it made Zuko tense. He clearly noticed and calmed himself. “No, Zuko. There is nothing you could do that would deserve such treatment.”

Zuko frowned. How could that be? “But…”

Told you, the Blue Spirit chimed in, and Zuko suddenly noticed them lounging across the moth-eaten couch.

But that didn’t make sense. How could he not deserve it? Why would Father do that if he hadn’t deserved it?

Because he is cruel, the Blue Spirit said simply. But don’t take my word for it. Ask him.

Zuko chewed on his lip, not quite able to look at Uncle. “Why?” he asked quietly. “If – if I didn’t – then why?”

“Zuko,” Uncle began, but Zuko had to finish.

“If – if what he did was wrong, then why didn’t anybody stop him!?”

Uncle set his teacup aside, and when Zuko glanced up, he was looking at Zuko with a serious expression. It made him look sad.

“There is no excuse for cowardice,” Uncle said, and his voice shook in a way it never had before. “But sometimes fear is easier to succumb to than courage.”

Zuko frowned. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Uncle said, “that not only did Ozai wrong you, but you were failed by all of us who should’ve done something and never did. It is unforgivable, Zuko.” Uncle met his gaze with shiny eyes. “Of everyone there that day, Zuko, you are the only one who did not do something wrong.”

“But–”

“You were right, Zuko,” Uncle said clearly, stopping for a moment to clear his throat, voice thick with emotion. “You were right to speak up for the 41st. You absolutely did not deserve what happened – no one ever could.”

“But how can that be!?” Zuko burst out. “If – if it was so wrong, then how come no one has ever said that before? How come you’ve never said that before!?”

Uncle flinched. “You love your Father,” he said after a moment. “When you love someone, it is difficult to see the ways they are wrong. When others criticize those we love, we rarely believe them. But that does not mean it is not true.” He sniffled and cleared his throat. “I never wanted you to push me away.”

Zuko’s face was scrunched in distress. “But – but even the Earth Kingdom merchants and the gossips in every port and the soldiers everywhere – everyone acted like Father was right. How can that not be the case?”

“Your Father has a great deal of power over the world,” Uncle said slowly. “Not because of his crown, but because of his cruelty. People the world over fear him. Fear makes us cowards, and sometimes it is easier to pretend it’s not there than to admit that we failed. Because if we acknowledge that Ozai is wrong and we do nothing… we are not less guilty than he is.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense!”

“No,” Uncle agreed, voice so very sad. “It doesn’t. The world has become terribly broken, Zuko, and too few remember what it is to act with compassion and love. Our family has brought a century of war on this world and people have become twisted with malice and desperation. That does not make it right. What Ozai did was wrong. And there is no possible way anyone could deserve that.”

Zuko shook his head, not able to accept that. It was ridiculous. If Uncle was right, then the whole world was wrong. That couldn’t be possible.

It made much more sense to think that the problem was Zuko. Maybe… maybe other people wouldn’t deserve it. But Zuko did. Zuko had to have, because otherwise, every single person he’d ever met had been wrong. All those people who sneered at him and laughed at him and made jokes about it and–

It was too many people. Surely they couldn’t all be in the wrong.

No, it had to be that Zuko was the one wrong. It had to be.

Uncle reached out slowly to touch his arm and Zuko couldn’t help his flinch, head spinning with confusion.

It couldn’t be. Uncle had to be incorrect, that was the only thing that made sense.

But… but Uncle looked at him with such guilt and pain and heartbreak and Zuko didn’t know what to do with that and–

“I need air,” he grunted out, scrambling to his feet and bolting.

Unfortunately, while Uncle could be outrun, the Blue Spirit could not be.

He’s right, they said, strolling alongside Zuko.

“Fuck off,” Zuko grit out. “Just – just go away!”

Fine, the Blue Spirit agreed. But he’s still right.

A moment later, they popped out of existence, and Zuko let out a shaky breath, suddenly feeling a hot burning behind his right eye.

They were wrong. They had to be.

Right?

Now Aang’s POV

Aang was floating on cloud nine. He could earthbend! After a horribly long day of failure after failure after failure, he could do it! He could move rock!

Katara left to start dinner and Sokka and Toph had eagerly followed her, but Aang had too much energy to stay in place, so he wandered through the streets, bending pebbles around just because he could.

So when he spotted Zuko stomping down an intersecting street, he raced after the Prince excitedly.

“Hey Zuko, guess what?” He used his airbending to speed ahead and come around to face Zuko, a bright grin on his face. Then he spotted Zuko’s expression and his smile fell. “Are you okay?”

Zuko turned away instantly, sniffling and wiping his right eye. Aang… was pretty sure he’d seen tears on Zuko’s cheek and he didn’t know what to do with that. It had… never really occurred to him that Zuko could cry.

“What happened?” he asked softly.

“Nothing. Go away.” Zuko’s voice lacked any force and he wouldn’t look at Aang, even when Aang circled around him again.

“Is there anything I can do?” Aang asked quietly.

“Yeah, fuck off,” Zuko grunted, twisting on his heel to stomp away from Aang.

Aang chewed on his lip. He – he didn’t want to not respect Zuko’s wishes, but something was very clearly wrong and he couldn’t just leave Zuko to be upset alone.

“I can distract you, if you want?” he offered. If Zuko wouldn’t talk to him, then he could at least help Zuko take his mind off whatever had happened… right?

“Why!?” Zuko demanded, rounding on him. “What do you care!?”

Aang frowned. “Why… wouldn’t I care?”

Zuko sputtered. “Because we’re enemies, maybe!?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I want you to be unhappy,” Aang pointed out. “I don’t want anyone to be unhappy. So if I can do something about it when someone is…” he shrugged.

Zuko stared in disbelief. The eyelashes of his right eye – the only eye that had eyelashes – were clumped with tears and it was pretty obvious that Zuko had definitely been crying.

Aang hated when people cried. He wanted to give Zuko a hug, but that might be pushing things a little too far. Still, he could at least do something to offer comfort.

“If you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s okay,” he said, voice as gentle as he could make it. “You don’t have to tell me. But that doesn’t mean I can’t take your mind off it.”

“...how?”

“Um,” Aang considered his options. “Oh! Would you like to fly on Appa?”

Zuko’s face made it clear he thought Aang was crazy.

“Flight is amazing!” Aang insisted. “C’mon, I’ve taken a lot of first-time flyers out. It’ll be fun!”

“Fun,” Zuko repeated blankly. “You… I don’t know why I’m surprised,” he huffed.

Aang attempted a smile. “As you know, Air Nomads are big on fun,” he said easily. “Do you wanna go flying?”

There was definite temptation on Zuko’s face, but the frown stayed dominant. “You realize I could just knock you out and fly to the Fire Nation, right?”

“Well, I guess it’s possible,” Aang acknowledged. “But I think Appa would have something to say about that. He can be positively unmoveable when he’s feeling stubborn, you know?”

Zuko blinked slowly, processing that. Then he actually snorted.

“Sky bison were considered to be one of the most willful pack animals in the world,” Zuko muttered.

“Yeah!” Aang nodded, though he was definitely surprised Zuko knew that. But it didn’t really matter. “So… wanna go flying?”

“...fuck it, why not?” Zuko said after a moment.

“Great! C’mon!” Aang positively beamed, grabbing Zuko’s hand and dragging him towards Appa.

Zuko asks the burning question

When Zuko’s eyes opened again, there was a considering look on his face. “Can I ask you something?”

Surprised, Aang nodded. “Sure!”

“In – in the Air Temples,” he began, voice hoarse, “how were you punished if you disrespected the elders?”

Aang tilted his head. “Disrespect how?”

“What do you mean ‘how’?” Zuko frowned. “Disrespect is disrespect.”

“Well, I guess, but like… it kinda depends on how much of a sense of humor you have, you know? Like – like Master Gyatso and I would prank the other elders all the time, and Monk Tashi would get super mad, but Monk Pasang usually found it funny. He’d even give us feedback on how the pies tasted!”

“...pies?”

“Oh yeah, see, Master Gyatso is a great baker. And pies are perfect for throwing at people’s heads.”

Zuko stared at him. “You… threw pies at your elders?” There was clear horror in Zuko’s voice. “What did they do to you? How were you punished?”

“Oh, usually it was just more chores and stuff,” Aang shrugged. “I’m very good at cleaning bison stables.”

Zuko’s stare almost turned gaping.

“What?”

“You,” Zuko’s voice was strangled, “you attacked and humiliated your elders and all you got was more chores!?”

“Uh… yeah?” Aang frowned. “Why? What do you think should’ve happened?”

Zuko clutched at his hair, face distraught. “It’s – that can’t – it’s not – what!?”

Aang wasn’t sure what was troubling Zuko so much, but he reached out with clearly telegraphed movements to touch Zuko’s arm. “What happened?” he asked quietly.

Zuko’s muscles flinched under his fingers, but Zuko didn’t actually pull away. Instead, he sat hunched over, tugging at his own hair.

“Zuko?” Aang shifted closer, hoping to offer what comfort he could. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Zuko shook his head, very obviously focusing on keeping his breathing steady. Even so, each exhale shuddered, and Aang was pretty sure that wasn’t just because of the bruising he’d seen earlier.

“Can I hug you?”

That made Zuko jerk back, gaping at him. “What!?”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to,” Aang said very seriously, “but you seem like you could use a hug. So… can I?”

For some reason, his question seemed to cause Zuko great consternation, but after a long moment, Zuko said, “I… guess?”

“Okay,” Aang smiled. “Just tell me when you want me to let go.” With that said, he shifted so that he could hug Zuko properly, pulling Zuko into him and pressing their chests together.

Zuko was tense in his arms and he kept his touch gentle, not wanting to aggravate the unknown injuries Zuko definitely had.

It was kind of awkward, just sitting in silence, hugging someone who was stiff as a board, but Aang ignored that, focusing on offering whatever comfort he could.

He didn’t know what was wrong or why Zuko was upset, but he did know that he liked Zuko and he didn’t like Zuko being unhappy.

So he held Zuko close and gradually, Zuko’s muscles unwound. At some point, Zuko even tilted his face into Aang’s shoulder, hands coming up to clutch at the back of Aang’s shirt. Aang smiled slightly, leaning his weight into Zuko and slowly rubbing Zuko’s back.

They stayed like that for a long time, just circling in the air above the village their families were in and hugging tightly.

And finally, a fun little distraction

Aside from Uncle, it had been a very long time since anyone had hugged Zuko. And even Uncle didn’t do it often.

It was… kind of nice?

Embarrassing beyond belief that he needed it, but he could admit that after waaaaaaay too long spent hugging Aang, he… did actually feel a little bit better. It hadn’t fixed anything, but he felt sort of like it had grounded him. There was still a typhoon of thought and emotion in his head, but he’d managed to push it down enough that he felt like he could actually breathe.

Unfortunately, that meant that he then had to acknowledge the part where he’d basically just broken down in his enemy’s arms.

He flushed, swallowing uncomfortably and drawing away with a mumbled apology.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Aang said softly. “Are you okay?”

Zuko opened his mouth to respond and then realized that he didn’t have an answer. He… wasn’t entirely sure he knew what it meant to be okay.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Aang’s smile was compassionate in a way that made Zuko feel exposed like a raw wound.

“No!” he lashed out with a scowl.

“Okay,” Aang said easily. “If you decide you do wanna talk about it, you’re welcome to come to me any time. In the meantime, do you wanna do a barrel roll?”

Zuko’s face was probably a fascinating thing to study as different emotions flashed through his mind.

But honestly, that did sound pretty cool.

“Yeah,” he decided, setting aside all the things he didn’t know how to feel about.

“Great!” Aang grinned. “Hang on to my arm, just in case. Appa knows what he’s doing, but it’s still best to be careful with people who can’t fly.”

The barrel roll was actually completely amazing and Zuko actually felt a smile pulling at his lips. It was an unfamiliar feeling.

[fankhx-invasion]

Strange Jendellians

Tommy Thayer/reader, alien, alien biology, messy blowjobs and handjobs, tentacles, absolute sin.

This was requested by someone on discord who does not have Tumblr. Please enjoy~

┍━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━┑

You and the absolute love of your life, Tommy, had been together for months now, and you were both taking things relatively slow. Not that you minded any of course; you preferred it that way, especially since this was your first incredible relationship with someone. For Tommy, you were the first partner he told his deepest secret to. Everything between the two of you was a field of new beginnings and broadened horizons. Especially now, after some of the best steak dinner you've ever been fed! Your boyfriend had a natural talent for cooking, but also, it appeared, a natural talent for kissing. He had you pulled closer to him on the loveseat, lips colliding with yours, strong hands resting on your waist. Your fingers worked each button on his shirt open. A smirk graced your lips before you pulled away, hands sliding up his sides to his chest, thumbs rolling around his nipples.

"Tommy, baby, let me see how pretty you are, you don't have to hide."

He bit his lower lip, letting the visual field disappear and instead reveal the gorgeous dark, blue eyes he had, accompanied by paler skin with a silvery sheen, ears that were pointed outwards, and longer canines poking out with each soft breath he let out. Tommy wasn't normal, at least not for a human. He was from some strange, far-off planet he called 'Jendell.' Supposedly, it was close enough that you could see it through a telescope, but could be easily mistaken for a star. Jendellians were very different from humans on Earth, they were more technically and biologically advanced, had managed to harness water for themselves, and were capable of creating food packed with nutrients and sugar to keep themselves easily energized and fed. Humans weren't allowed to know about their existence, in fact, it was against every Jendellian rule to make a human aware of them. But Tommy, sweet, lovable Tommy, he loved you more than anything, he trusted you with his life! The secret was out.

You weren't bothered one bit by it. In fact, you were infatuated with the idea. Tommy Thayer was an alien rebel, and out of every being in the cosmos, he was choosing you to cherish and love for as long as he possibly could. You practically purred at the thought, pressing feather-light kisses to the side of his neck, trailing down to his collar bone and chest, licking at one of his budded nipples to test the waters. The jendellian in front of you gasped, seemingly amazed by the sensations you were causing by doing something so simple. You grinned against his skin, sliding off the couch to the carpeted floor between Tommy's legs, reveling in the flushed expression on his face.

"Tommy, darling, look at me please." You cooed out, trying to grab his attention fully.

He licked his lower lip, eyes meeting yours.

"Good boy. Are you okay with me continuing? I don't want to rush you if you're not ready for that yet."

"It's uhm," he started, embarrassed, "It's different, down there I mean,,,"

"That's okay, I don't mind any, you know. I can take my time and be really gentle, okay?"

He gave a nervous smile and nodded.

"G-go ahead."

Your fingers worked swiftly, unzipping his jeans, pulling them down to his ankles alongside his boxers, letting out a breath of wonder and excitement. You weren't expecting the dripping wet slit to appear between his gorgeous thighs, but you were intrigued. You pulled him forward, kissing the area above, your left thumb pushing inside. Tommy let out a noise of content, moving his legs further apart for your ease of access. You leaned closer, licking a stripe up the opening, noting how the other shuddered in delight.

"Wow, you taste really sweet~" you mumbled, lapping up more of the slick that flowed through, letting your tongue explore inside.

Weirdly enough, something else touched the tip of your tongue, squirming around and growing in size. You were delighted, teasing it with lick after lick until it peeked out enough for you to suck on it, watching how your alien boyfriend squirmed in place. You were pleased with the breathy moans and whimpers coming from him just from something as simple as this. Pulling away, you could see two blueish, iridescent tentacles, covered in a thin layer of spit and Tommy's slick. You bit your bottom lip, eagerly taking both tips into your mouth again, noisy slurping filling the room, as well as Tommy's pretty moans. You would do this as long as you could if it meant you could listen to him begging and pleading for more. The tentacles continued to reveal themselves fully, wriggling around in your mouth, only calming down when you used your hand to stroke the rest of the lengths that you couldn't fit down your throat. When you pulled away the second time, a trail of spit connecting your bottom lip to the tentacles following behind, you let out a purr of satisfaction, noting the almost 13 inches that were erect under your fingers.

"You're a mighty big boy~" your eyes flickered up to Tommy's, darkened with lust, pumping his dicks faster.

"Has to- fuck,~ b-be long enough for, for," he paused, bucking his hips up into your hand, "to reach the womb and, and- I can't thiiiink~ Don't stop, please don't.. I can't-!"

You chuckled, running your thumb over the slit at the top of his cocks, quickening your pace more, licking your lips seductively.

"Somebody's gonna come, yeah? Well go ahead, baby, go and come for me, don't hold back.~"

Tommy gripped onto the couch, rocking his hips forward into your hand, soft breaths slipping past his lips before a guttural groan left his throat, and you watched strings of his release spurt out all over your hand and your face. It glowed a cool, neon green color, felt warm and sticky, and, as you licked some of it off your digits suggestively in front of the flustered alien, tasted sugary sweet. It was addictive. You cleaned up your face, taking swipes of his cum with your finger and cleaning it off, moaning at the flavor. The jendellian in front of you was too far gone, coming down from his high, eyes glazed over. You cooed out to him, reaching your hand over to tilt his chin to look at you.

"Tommy, baby~," you started, leaning forward, flattening your tongue against his dicks and cleaning them off.

"I think we need to have a round two."

┕━━━━━━━ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ━━━━━━━┙

[frisiunia]

Trivia about me and Undermourning

Yep! This trivia will be about me too. There ya go!

My favorite character from Undertale is Undyne. I like her heroism, daring. I made Undyne from Undermourning a little less likeable for my standards. Oh welp.

My favorite Undertale ship is Toriel x Sans. Well... weeeeeeeeeeeeell wellllllllllll welly well... that is why I don’t ship them in Undermourning :) They’re just door-friends!

My second favorite ship from Undertale is Chara x Asriel. However I don’t ship them in Undermourning either. And no! I’m not homophobic! I actually could ship them with Chara being boy. The thing is... Chara hates Asriel in my AU. So that just won’t work!

Besides, how can I be homophobic while my third favorite Undertale ship is Undyne x Alphys? Well I can’t ship them in Undermourning either because Alphys doesn’t exists ._.

Instead in some timelines Bratty and Catty are girlfriends :D Well, honestly I like more lesbian ships than gay in stories, but that’s because I am girl and I can understand other girls better than I can understand boys.

Natalie and Sofia originally were my and my ex-friend’s OCs for Roblox RP. They had blue hairs and red eyes. That is why now they have amber eyes and their hairs is black with with blue-brightened ends. Did anyone notice ends of their hairs???

No, I didn’t stole Natalie (yes, Natalie was the one which my ex-friend created). I made this AU with my ex-friend. Maybe not in that form but who cares? Natalie isn’t the same character she was when my ex-friend created her. She has other appearance and personality. And this OC wouldn’t even exist if I haven’t created Sofia in the first place.

Originally my and my ex-friend’s inspiration to create this AU was Xtale and Underfell. We were just some edgy kids and we wanted to create some edgy story =w= Currently my inspiration for Undermourning is generally Steven Universe. Yes! As Undertale fan I’m also Steven Universe fan :D Also my inspiration are my own feelings.

I'm in autism spectrum... actually now I've noticed some resemblance between me and Sofia. Except Sofia isn't an introvert. A little sad... weirdly, I don’t feel sad about it. Well, good for me.

Which skele-bro do I prefer? Papyrus of course :) He’s energic, smart, clever, kind, a little childish (just a little) and great! I’m actually really, really tired of fandom favoring Sans. Maybe not that much now, but still! In Undermourning he is actually same skeleton like in Undertale, but he is less important and more lazy because he doesn’t see sense at doing anything. He is important only at No Mercy route.

I actually like showing Chara as the bad guy on fanarts and songs but not in a stories and AUs. So why is Chara from Undermourning evil? Well... IT DEPENDS ON THE PERSON. I personally think about Chara from my AU as neutral character which is just morally broken. Actually he isn’t the only character morally broken in my AU. However ya can interpret this character any way you like!

I actually like Chara and Frisk more as a girls =w=

I present Frisk as a player. Everything Frisk does depends on a player but it’s hard to show player writing a story. The way I present Frisk make me identify with them. Probably that is why my nickname is Frisiunia. “Frisiunia” is diminutive, but based on my language. So if ya can’t read my nick properly ya can just say “Frisky”. No difference.

Frisk from Undermourning probably has fluffy hair because of Steven and Pink Diamond. 

Something not about Undertale or Undermourning. My favorite character from Steven Universe is Lapis Lazuli. She’s too favored by the fandom but I think that there is reason for that. Maybe it’s just me but her character is easy to indentify with. I identify with her. Seeing how she could just repeat others while she was trapped in the mirror, her toxic relationship with Jasper, how she couldn’t find her place in the world, her fear, her loneliness, seeing this feels so familiar. No need to feel sorry about me and fact I feel this way. You have good heart if you do, but please don’t. You should care about yourself. It’s my conclusion. Ya know, I haven’t made Undermourning deppresive for controversies. My AU isn’t any popular anyway. I have made it because I like psychology. I'm not a psychologist. However I feel and see things. And I can show my observations and feelings in Undermourning. Some people I know needs mental help. My best friend needs mental help. I want to help them but I’m not psychologist. I can, I should be there for them and comfort them, but I can’t help them because I’m not psychologist. However there is one person I can help. Myself. Everyone has their problems. Minor or major, it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t matter if you have things in your face you don’t like and can’t change or if you have suicide thought. It doesn’t have matter if people around you have worse problems. Your problems are important as well. You should be with your love ones when they’re having hard time, but you also should let them be with you when you’re having hard time too. You should love them but you can’t love them if you do not love yourself. I'm not saying you to be a narcissistic, but you are the most important person in your life. Others are important too, but not as important as you. Ya aren’t important for me but I’m not important for ya as well. Despite this I hope you know what I meant and you love yourself. Though I don’t know you, I’m sure you have things you can love yourself for.

[twistedyapping]

how i deal with build ups of energy

to clarify what i mean real quick, anyone that knows me should know im a pretty spiritual kinda guy- i thoroughly believe in negative and positive energies and that both of them are weirdly physical despite falling under the metaphysical category

i also believe in old energy and new energy- it's kinda like water in a way yknow- u dont wanna drink old water bc who KNOWS what it's got in it, so you usually wanna flush it out and get new or clean water instead

now lemme explain why im yapping abt this

i just did a workout and at first i really couldnt get into it (for those who dont know, my method of exercise is literally putting my earbuds in, turning the lights off and performing my favorite songs as if i was the singer on stage in front of a crowd bc that's something i eventually want to Actually do), i did a couple songs and i just wasnt feeling it but i was like Well nah- nah this- this cant be 😧

bc i kinda had to do a workout today, i knew i needed it for some reason, so i was like Ok well let me try a song that almost always works (falling away from me by korn)

and i did it and for the most part i felt this kind of shell i was in start to crack- i started to get a little more energized throughout the whole song and im like Okay inch resting- and it was at that point i started to have a hunch about what this lack of energy was.

i did another song that i hadn't actually done before but knew that whenever i listened to it, i couldn't Not crank the volume every time the chorus hits- it's one of Those™ songs (and it's gravity of discomfort by korn)

right before the first chorus hit, i felt myself REALLY start to come out of whatever shitty shell i was in, but then something bit back into me and the chorus itself wasn't as good-

2nd chorus rolls around and i am FEELING it FINALLY- the breakdown hits and i have the moment where it fully clicks and i know what's wrong with me.

essentially what was happening was i was just full of too much old, shitty, stagnant energy- the kind of shit that when you let it fester, it makes you not want to do the very things that would get rid of it.

it was at this point that i finally started feeling correct again so i did a song that i just wanted to do in general (shoots and ladders), and then i followed it with the one song that is the most energy purging fucking thing i know of for myself (chi- these r all korn songs if u couldnt tell by now-)

this is the ONE SONG that, no matter what vibe im in, i will end up purging Something fucking huge energetically and the song will end and ill feel like a new man completely

if u follow my astrology blog, @twistedastrology, u shouldve seen the cancers and rage post i did bc this ties into it immensely 😮‍💨

this may have been the most insane ive ever gone to this song im not gona lie- i can almost guarantee you i scratched the shit out of my own skin because it's like having a parasite in you and you just start clawing at your own skin, desperate to get it out of you.

that and im a very physical person when it comes to purging shitty energy (again, the cancers and rage post will explain it 💔)

the experience with the song itself almost had me breaking down into tears, and if i wasnt so unbelievably angry, i probably would've-

i literally feel so much better now that i burnt that shit off bc now that i know abt it, i can definitely tell how it's been eating me up inside

but i wanna talk abt before i started getting into the swing of things vs after.

there was this very obvious apprehension that i talked abt, yknow not feeling into it- and then after i got rid of the garbage energy, i was sat on the floor in front of the fan just feeling So much better-

you're always gonna feel like shit before you purge something, it's like pulling teeth, right? the more you dont want to do it or dont feel like doing it, the more you actually need to.

it's that shitty energy's last line of defense, it's digging into you tooth and nail with every appendage it has, begging for you to not evict it from your body and mind because it has nowhere else to go.

think of it like leaving a shitty partner- you say you wanna end things and then they shit themselves and cry and scream and beg and punch walls and threaten to off themselves if you leave them because omg no!!!! nooooo not my energetic breakfast lunch and dinner!!!! nooooo dont leave me ur too sexy haha ur lifeforce is too fun to drain lol

Like bro.

my personal experience with these energy purges is usually the same every time, i catch onto it, get so pissed about it that i basically burn it from the inside out, and then i go to bed that day and wake up the next a whole new person.

i get way happier, better at listening and talking to the ppl around me, i have 10x more energy, i can sleep way better at night, etc.

and then eventually, something will find it's way back in and i have to repeat the cycle, but the only time repeating that cycle is a bad thing is when i fail to burn the shitty energy off and then become a conduit for all things miserable, which i personally refuse to let happen because it's my worst nightmare.

also update i just felt a vague stinging on my collarbone and im like oh shit whar- go to feel it and im like Holy shit that feels bad- check it out and ya i got a big ass scratch right there damn bitch calm down 💔💔💔 im surprised it's not actually bleeding ngl it looks like it's like 2 layers of skin away from it tho 😭😭😭

ANYWAY

i know it sucks and i know it's kinda shitty or silly to say, but a build up of negative energy is very similar to, the same as, and can even Lead To depression, anxiety, whatever.

im never gonna dismiss someone's mental health issues as "oh ur juet holdidng onto too much negative enebgryy Go hold some rocks!!!!!!!".

negative energy can play a part in it, and rocks can help with that part, but they wont magically cure your genuine mental illness and they should never be looked at like they will.

But for me, my mental illness is just exacerbated by said shitty energy, and that's what doing these ungodly purges fixes. sometimes you get shitty energy from just having a long day, sometimes people deliberately (mostly unknowingly tho) throw it onto you because they dont wanna deal with their own shit, sometimes you just get it from yourself.

the source of it doesn't matter as much as the expulsion of it.

and for me, after i expel such an intense amount as i just did, i get SUPER tired, sometimes i even get a temporary but god awful migraine-

at one point i genuinely cleared out so much old energy at once that i kept getting more and more tired to the point of keeling over and knocking out a couple times and waking up with the migraine of a lifetime, AND my ENTIRE body was RUTHLESSLY sore- but i kept going because i wanted all of it out as fast as possible.

i didnt wanna just slowly sift through it no no i HAD to do it as fast as my body would let me, there was no other choice in my head because that's just not how i work.

so while i may sorta fuck myself up with how Quickly and violently i expel this kinda stuff, it's never not for a good reason. i can handle a couple scratches on my body, i can handle a head-splitting migraine, i can handle my whole body feeling like it's gonna fall apart as long as i get the shit out of my system.

with time, my body will heal on it's own, but my mind will spiral if i dont keep it in check.

and i think with that im gona end this yapping session- idk if any of this made any modicum of sense but i hope that if it did, u took Something positive from it.

if u actually read this far legitimately god bless u and there will be plenty more yapping sessions 2 come

- 🌙 -

[lovecolibri]

SaL anon here my friend, saying hi after a long absence!! I don't know why this summer is kicking my ass so much, I've been in a rut of absolute apathy about everything, including putting in the effort to rewatch my comfort shows. But things are getting better and sometimes its the small things that get you back up (for me specifically its the return of Puppet History, an absolute gem I highly recommend).

Anywho hope the summer is going well for you despite the summer and global warming of it all. Don't know about you but I'm still pretty bitter about 911 and really the way so many of the shows we've enjoyed were mishandled so badly. And with the writers and actors (very rightfully) on strike it could be awhile before we get any sort of idea what's going to happen in s7 so I figure we've got time to get some of that bitterness out through some salty competitions. So to start which series finale had the worse ending, RNM or 911 (I know 911 isn't over but its over on fox so it kinda counts)? A lengthy justification of your choice is encouraged!!

Hello friend! I got this while I was out of town at a concert with my mom so I'm just getting around to this today. I also thought this summer was going to be Super Chill and Time To Catch Up On Things but we have been weirdly SO BUSY every weekend and had numerous unexpected Things happen (the fridge went out, thought it was fixed, it went out again, one of the cats had to go to the emergency vet an hour away and is now on new special food forever etc) and it's not slowing down any time soon! Sorry you're in your apathy rut era, I was absolutely there too recently so I know what that's like! I hope you can find some joy again soon! (I know everyone else Hates Summer, but I love not being cold all the time and heat and sunshine are what give me life so I'm currently on a slightly more energized kick which I'm going to try and use to Get Some Shit Done in regards to home improvement and self-care.)

I haven't ever watched Puppet History but it sounds delightful and with the strikes going on (take 'em down WAG/SAG AFTRA!) I'm sure I will be finding time to watch all the things I never got around to. I'm currently nearly finished with Resident Alien which has been a delight, and me and my mom are watching White Collar which has been a lot of fun for us.

Okay, now time for The Salt Mine.

It's funny that you bring up the RNM finale because I JUST saw a post the other day of Malex comparison kisses but the one they used from the finale is a wide shot and LITERALLY the main color focus drawing the eye in the shot is that goddamn fucking red dress under the bright lights of the bar, and only then, second, is the pink light Malex is under while in the darker, shadowed part of the bar. Sooooo I've been feeling salty about that for daaaaays.

It's a tough call to pit these two against each other because 911 literally shoved Buck and Eddie into "endgame" relationships with random characters they have zero chemistry with and that we know next to nothing about (Marisol) or everything we know is Not Great (Natalia). They really thought this was the end of the show and would rather waste time on these side characters and forcing these relationships rather than focus on the firefam and found family of it all and showing the core cast of characters TOGETHER as a FAMILY in the end. They rushed through the emergency and the feels we SHOULD have spent time on with everyone being hurt and seeing the firefam worry about and fight to rescue each other, all so KR could have time to (poorly) wrap up the 7000 plotlines she made for Buck because she apparently doesn't like or care about any of the other characters and only cares about Buck insofar as she can make jokes about his junk and sex life and how she can use his character to insert new ones she wants to have instead of using the characters she already has. However, despite all that mess, there WERE some good moments in the finale for the firefam and the bridge collapse was good, if too short to do what it was intended to do. 911's practical effects have ALWAYS been a highlight of the show and one of the things that makes it great so it was good to see some effort put into that side of the show again.

But, even with all the missteps of the 911 finale, RNM fumbled the ball on literally EVERYTHING in their finale. There was a Malex wedding, but it focused entirely on Michael and we didn't get to see Alex's POV on anything (not even anything about being on death's doorstep and magically being healed which happened entirely off screen and we didn't get to hear from Alex about it at all) except how he was perfectly happy having NONE of his family there for the wedding because god forbid m*ria be uncomfortable for 5 seconds because everything is about HER and how SHE feels 🙄🙄🙄 We got more focus on m*ria than we did Alex at his own goddamn wedding! And aside from that whole mess, the finale also separated Max and Liz, the supposed main couple of the show! The show ended forever with the lead in tears as Max goes to an alien planet for who knows how long! WTF kind of ending is that?! The show really made it hard to root for Max and Liz because the writing for them was just...not what it needed to be, but Jeanine and NDP had great chemistry and when they let them be in love they had some GREAT moments. I just wanted to root for them more but they constantly put them on opposite sides of every little thing they came across so they were never really able to work TOGETHER on anything and it was frustrating. Even so, I wanted a better ending for them after seasons of fighting and being so on again/off again the whole time. Jeanine especially got screwed over in what SHOULD have been Liz's show and I hate that being left behind was her ending. And that's not even going into all the plotholes and storylines the show just half-assed or flat out didn't address, and things that got dropped along the way and never explained. I know I say it A Lot about 911, but good god, the RNM cast, characters, and the base storylines they started the show with deserved SO much better than what they got consistently from the s1 finale through the end of the show.

Despite all of 911s flaws and faults, I still think they can come back from it all if they go back to the formula used in the early seasons for pacing and storyline distribution and focus on the firefam as a unit together, and given that the issues brought up by fans were pretty similar across all platforms and mirrored oftentimes by professional reviews, there's some hope for change moving forward on a new network. If RNM had been given another season I'm sure they still would not have resolved any of the plotholes and would probably have just made them worse while creating new ones 🤷🏻‍♀️

So I have to go with RNM for having the worst finale but damn if 911 didn't give it a run for it's money!

I was good hearing from you my friend! I had high hopes to work on my Countdowns fic this summer but I just have not had a weekend to myself! My niece will be visiting this whole week and my nephew is due to arrive in August but may come earlier, plus I'm working on getting out of town for some shows (and out of state if I can swing it to see Ed Sheeran), and working on some remodel work in my bedroom so we'll see when things start to slow down if I have any brain power left to write, much less do any of the other craft projects I have pending! I am confident I will get the baby blanket I'm working on done in time but everything else is up in the air. Remember when summer was time to relax? Anyway, I am ALWAYS here for your salty thoughts or anything else you wanna talk about. In the meantime, lets all manifest a good outcome for the striking workers!

[musicaldaydreams]

OCtober Day 18: Mood

What can always turn characters’ days around, for better or worse! (Hopefully I remembered everyone- I absolutely forgot some folks last time!)

Amaranth: Is always cheered up by solving mysteries, and watching Pokemon play calms her.

Argent: The slightest hint of new information or something interesting will put him in a sunny mood. On the other hand, anyone being irresponsible around or with books will put him in a very foul mood.

Art: Always feels better after talking to his mom. Same goes for looking at the stars- if you give this boy a telescope, whatever is bugging him will fade away at least a little.

Asa: Always goes for a swim to clear her head and settle down.

Atif: Mentioning his past and how he didn’t trust people will bring him down. Spending time with Mina, or seeing some really beautiful art, has a buoying effect on him.

Cinth: Spending any time at all with Apples, or the Junimo in general, will cheer her up all day.

Cortica: Tinkering with things, or working out schematics in her notebook, eases her mood some no matter what’s going on.

Gail: Is stressed and upset by anything spooky or supernatural happening to her. Weirdly, working on homework or having a good debate makes her feel more in control and safer, so she always feels better afterwards.

Harrisen: If someone litters or throws things in water, he is going to be Very Grumpy.

Jamil: Travel always cheers him up, the sight of new things feeling like a breath of fresh air. Seeing Atif or Mina smile will also make him about 3 shades happier.

Keely: Talking to unfamiliar people makes them anxious, and that goes double for talking to multiple at once. (Several things make them anxious, actually.) Fortunately, when their favourite show comes on or they get to spend time talking about something they love, they’re energized and become very cheerful.

Lena: Her mood is actually very hard to sway by outside influences, at least not with consistency. She only really noticeably gets quieter when bringing up Nim, or (chapter 15 spoilers).

Michiru: No matter what’s going on, her Sneasel will make her laugh.

Mina: Spending time with cats, or in a greenhouse, is very calming to her.

Minerva: Can always cheer up with a delicious cup of tea, or by spending quality time with her family.

Miri: Gets very thoughtful and contemplative when ae tries to recall aer past.

Neria: Bringing up Interpol or (chapter 15 spoilers) will put her in a dark mood very quickly.

Romi: Spending time with their (or any) Pokemon cheers them up a lot. Kids make them laugh, and also cheer them. On the other hand, interacting with Lin or most Meteors will put them in a bad mood that’s very hard to shake.

Shadow: A good book or a nice fly over the forest will put them in an excellent mood.

Terry: Wasting time, or bringing up the state of his world, will upset him, and they’re very stubborn, so that sticks around. Being able to change things for the better gives him a lasting contentment, though.

Tria: Having to go out in daylight or bringing up cult leaders is a quick way to put them in a crabby mood. Watching or playing with their Pokemon is the quickest way for her to cheer up.