#you feel better about strangers and also you have more knowledge! which is always a boon!

[essektheylyss]

re: the fiction/nonfiction kinsey scale poll. just know that I am barely restraining myself from giving nonfiction book recs at all times. there is SO MUCH FUN NONFICTION THAT IS SUPER READABLE AND INTERESTING take my hand we can go pick out some books together

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want - Chpt. 8 - Jason Fucking Todd

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)

PREV - NEXT

Well, look on the bright side of things. You’re not crying right now. That’s nice. You’re not an intern anymore. That’s nice. You struggle to think of anything else. Oh yeah, you’re rich! That’s also nice. You’re not dead. Nice.

This is kind of pathetic. You just feel bummed after having to break up with George a second time. And getting smacked right in the face by him. Which you know, anybody would be, you think. You don’t think a single soul has ever known the George Lancaster Break-Up Special more than once. And you didn’t think anyone would be stupid enough to fall for that asshole more than once.

You couldn’t fake a brave face anymore, you just didn’t have the energy for it.

…And let’s not forget almost dying via Joker goon. Not even the man himself, just a random lackey. You think of how he literally disappeared in front of your eyes, and decide you are going to stop thinking. It’s doing you no good anyway.

Instead, you just start walking. Letting your feet and your intimate knowledge of Gotham’s streets, even in this area you don’t often frequent, guide you. You find yourself at the train station. With little consideration, you buy a ticket to the southern part of the city. The bad side of town, the docks, where your apartment used to be.

You feel like a little rat scurrying back into the sewers as you hop on the subway, tucking yourself in between people who don’t recognise you, probably because of your general dishevelment.

Shoulders knocking against strangers, you feel the most at home since this whole disaster started. You stare across the train car, watching a baby babble to its mother. It catches your eye, gives you a big toothless smile, and some snot dribbles into it’s mouth. The mother notices and cleans the baby up with a tissue. When she catches you staring, you give a very awkward but friendly smile, and she smiles back.

A tiny weight lifts off your shoulders. Surrounded by the chaos of Gotham, as the subway exits the tunnels and heads up onto the sky rails, you find yourself warm by the rays of sun through the clouds. The view is beautiful, as it always is. Usually, you’d be looking at your phone, too busy to enjoy the sights. But it really is beautiful.

It’s only when you hear the announcer calling out that you realise you did this for a reason, and dart out of your seat and through the narrowly closing doors. The metal closes behind you with a small hiss. The Docks station, for most people, would be one of the better Gotham train stations. Newly built, and with all the tourist money it was clean. Well, clean as it could get. You’d read some article about the bacteria the rats were carrying being not found anywhere else on earth, and you’d decided to stop reading articles.

Anyway, for you, even the shining marble of the station was a sad sight. Because you only ever came here on your very worst days.

This seemed like one of them.

The familiar streets flit past you, barely something you’re even cognisant of. This part of the city was mostly new, the concrete fresh under your feet instead of littered with potholes. Still, it wasn’t at the centre of the blast radius, so it hadn’t been totally demolished.

No, that was just up ahead. And like everything else in this weird new world, you immediately noticed something different. Where your family had died was… still there, for some reason.

With confusion, exhaustion, and no small bit of despair, you stop in the middle of the pathway outside the remnants of what used to be an old diner and was now just a pile of rocks. Some very charred rocks. Looking at the wreckage, you raise your brows. Its crumbling form is still under construction after all these years. The yellow caution tape is only a deterrence to you because you don’t want to end up on the gossip reels for a second time today. Looking around, you find yourself further confused. Lots of other parts of the pier had been redeveloped, but this piece of the puzzle still lay bare.

It didn’t, in your home, your world. It had been replaced with high-rise apartments, and since they were so close to the water, so pretty and new, you had no hope of affording them. It probably wouldn’t be very good for your mental health even if you could. Still, you’d taken many walks past the street. Enjoyed the little bit of dirty white concrete that had survived. You and your siblings had signed your names into it, and you’d stroked the sidewalk like the weirdo you were many times.

Like you did today. And today, for some reason, the rest of it was here. Untouched. A remnant of the disaster. As you run your thumb along the sharp edge of Julie’s J, you find yourself once again lost in your memories. They were like honey traps to you these days.

The mum-and-pops diner had been run by your uncle. It’d been in the family for three generations, and he was incorrigibly proud of it. You’d all had your birthday parties there, because it was free and you were poor. It wasn’t like your uncle would let you pay for the food anyway, it was just one of the few times Mum could stand the generosity. She didn’t like it when you had disappointing birthdays, and no matter how much you tried to fake your happiness, she could always see to your core. Eventually, you and your siblings all gave up on trying.

You were late. You were often late, but this time it was… it was the difference between life and death. If you’d been a few blocks further, a little bit earlier, you’d probably be dead too. Or at least have some serious hearing loss instead of just suffering mild tinnitus.

You had felt more than seen the destruction. The earth had rumbled, and a deafening roar had swept through the streets. You remember falling to your knees, the worry about being late morphing to worry for your best clothes to a true terror when you realised where the blast had come from.

When you realised your family was in the epicentre.

You sometimes wish you were on time that day. That you’d gotten to see them all, even if you went with them. It didn’t sound so bad, really. At least you wouldn’t be alone. Hmm, you should probably stop thinking like that. Or maybe go to a therapist about it.

Not that you could afford it. Oh, right. Rich now. That was really taking some getting used to.

You wonder if people who won the lottery felt the same way. Probably not, because the rest of the world reflected the changes the person felt. They’d have to go pick up the check, go to the bank, and if they let their family and friends know, deal with the consequences of that.

You’d just woken up rich. No time to adjust, your new life was here and it was demanding your attention very loudly. And soup-ly, unfortunately. After a few minutes of staring blankly at the rubble, you look towards your left, where you know the Memorial awaits you. It’s in the centre of the new shopping district, built on top of the bombed parts of Gotham. It sits right next to the water, the cold breeze a comfort that you’d turned to on more than one occasion.

You’d feel bad if you didn’t change your clothes. You told Grayson you would, and you already felt bad enough about... everything to do with him. You suppose he was your brother. Your ex-brother. Ex-step-brother. The ex-step-brother of a woman who you weren’t.

Really, he was just a stranger. It seemed he didn’t feel that way, though.

You start the walk towards the shopping district, and into the first clothes store you see. The prices on the tags would usually make you flinch, but well, it doesn’t matter anymore. Nothing seems to matter. Your survival is now guaranteed, might as well wear some clothes that feel nice on your skin.

You walk out of that store looking like you just robbed it. Even the clerk had given you a weird look but accepted the black card tucked in your phone without much complaint. It’s an improvement if a small one.

Once you’re done, like a moth to a flame, you drift towards the Memorial centre. You’re following all the steps you used to in the past, but somehow, it all feels a bit alien. The world looks a little different, a little uncomfortable. Your shoes are worn in, and yet they still feel too tight.

Uncanny valley. You feel unwelcomed here, unwanted. Like the very earth can tell that there’s something wrong in this scene, some intruder. You ignore the feeling as best you can.

The Memorial is just as unfamiliar as the diner was, maybe even more. You know that your mother was a Wayne before she died. You know that. But still seeing your family’s framed photos, right alongside Jason's is so shocking you nearly jump. It takes a moment of wide-eyed staring before you can manage to get past that. When you do, for some reason you still go back to your old habits. You walk by them, the bouquets and to where their names used to be in thin letters.

You count with your fingers, finding the fifty-second line.

A man’s name replaces the spot where your mother’s is. The little grooves the oil in your fingers had left behind were gone, and instead was sharp stone like when the monument was first erected. It cuts at your fingers. It no longer welcomes your touch.

James Whitaker. That’s the name of the man who took their spot.

You can already feel a rising obsession with the random dead man. If you were going to psycho-analyse yourself, you’d recognise that you didn’t feel that the images of the Waynes you’d created were no longer real, no longer safe to your escapist mindset. You’d realise, that this was all pretty unhealthy, and you really, really needed therapy.

Instead, you give the guy your condolences and start reading the other plinths. They seem largely the same. It’s not like you hadn’t read all of these towers of stone at one point or another, your eyes glazing over the many, many names. So much devastation, all in one moment.

And still, this was not even a tenth of all the lives the Joker had taken. You kinda wanna go take a kick at one of the Bat signals littered around the city. Maybe that’d make you less… broiling with incompetent rage.

Again, maybe you should just go to therapy. You should call Jeanine about that or something.

Eventually, you circle back to your family and Jason’s shrines. You know, back then you’d been jealous that Jason Todd had been so well mourned. You’d wished your family had gotten the same treatment.

Now, you… felt jealous again. Possessive, over their memory, their image. You didn’t really like that random strangers that never knew them… knew them. That Sam always got As in English and Art class but would sometimes skip math and would hide in the bathrooms to do so. That Chasey had struggled with going to school because of her anxiety but kept going because she had a friend going through the exact same thing. That Julie was the ace of her school’s soccer team, and that she’d almost gotten them to nationals even in the presence of all the super-rich schools in Gotham. That your Mum was a great cook but genuinely hated doing it, but for some reason, baking was her favourite thing even as she had never made a proper macaron.

They didn’t know them. They knew their faces and a facsimile of them, but they didn’t know them. It reminded you of the people at the orphanage. Nice, but not kind. They’d had their own lives, they didn’t want some bratty, demented teenager who was going down and planning on taking everyone with her.

You really couldn’t be happy, could you? Maybe you didn’t know what you wanted. What you want now. What you’d wanted for a while, actually.

Ugh. You close your eyes and let out a deep, soul-shaking sigh. It takes a moment for you to shore up the willpower to open them again. Come on, flower shop, finish your weird little ritual then you can go home and hide for the next millenia.

The walk there is the same as always, if a little more morose. It’s in a good spot, near the church just a block away and the memorial on its other side, as well as less sombre atmospheres down near the pier. Well, as little sombre as Gotham can manage.

You feel like you blink and you’re there. Too quickly, you find a rainbow of blooms in front of you, the scent of the blossoms washing over you. When you walk into the flower shop, the bell at the door rings the same as it always does. On autopilot, you walk over to the small, cheaper buds. Your hand clenches around the crinkly wrapping paper, a bundle of posies in your hand. You go to the counter with your prize in hand.

Larissa, the counter worker, smiles at you. Your breath hitches. It’s a working smile, not one of the real, toothy ones she used to give you.

“Oh wow, I thought all the posies had sold out. Lucky you!”

You think of something to say, but the moment passes and you don’t. She rings you up, tells you the price, and when you pay, asks sweetly if you want a receipt.

She doesn’t say your name. Doesn’t acknowledge how you come here every week and buy this same handful of flowers. She doesn’t ask about your job or the weather. She doesn’t cheerfully tell you about how her apprenticeship is going, or about the next sweet thing her partner has done. No, she just stares at you, growing more uncomfortable the longer it takes for you to answer.

She doesn’t even seem to recognise this other version of you. It feels like another string that tied you down to the earth has been snipped. You have an image in your head of a child losing a balloon, desperately grasping at the air. You’re going to float up into the atmosphere, and then you’re going to pop.

You can see the foil glinting in the sun’s light, so, so clearly.

You squeeze your eyes shut, “Yes, a receipt, please.”

Taking it blindly, you barely flutter your eyes open as you walk out of the shop. She didn’t know you, didn’t remember you. That doesn’t matter, you tell yourself. You hadn’t really known her. It doesn’t matter. There’s no real difference, it doesn’t matter.

It’s okay, it’s okay, it never really mattered. You keep telling yourself this as you walk back over to the memorial. As you lay your flowers down with the others, the little posies are dwarfed by the other donations. It didn’t matter. You didn’t know her. None of this matters. Their flowers don’t matter.

You don’t matter. You hit that errant thought with a mental fly swatter.

Exhausted, you sit down next to the monument. You used to be able to lay your head on the stone, able to feel your family in the warmth it had absorbed in the sun. Now you just sort of, awkwardly reached out to the small bit of uncovered plinth at the side. You have to stick your hand through a wreath to do so.

It’s not warm. You wonder if your family are sad. And then you wonder if you’re an idiot for attributing feelings to a literal rock.

After a while, you get up. Cross your arms. You stare at your family's portraits, eyes moving over their smiles. One by one. You recognise some of the photographs, those are your favourites. A smile cracks across your face when you see the picture of when Chasey lost her two front teeth. She still grins cheekily at the camera, uncaring for any changes to her appearance, as all kids shouldn’t.

Your shoulders fall just the slightest bit when you see the picture of Jason Todd. It’s one of his older pictures. Probably seventeen or something. He’d always been a lovely boy when he was younger. And he still was up till he died but you’d always thought you’d seen something start to change in him. That sparkle of innocence, dulled, just the slightest.

And then he’d died. And you’d wondered if maybe he’d felt it was coming.

You certainly hadn’t. It had been like a hurricane tearing through your life. You’d ended up on the other side completely abandoned, the only friend who’d bothered to keep seeing you being one who’d learnt to dodge train ticket costs like a damn ninja. And you’d had to decide whether you could keep doing this, whether you even wanted to.

You were an obsessive creature by nurture. It had been all you could do to hang onto the Waynes, pretend they would love and care for you even if they’d have never even noticed you in real life. You weren’t sure that was strength or simple human survival. Dying was scary. Of course, you were scared of dying.

Your whole family had died. So, you told yourself, that Jason Fucking Todd would be sad if you killed yourself, and somehow, you had made it all these years.

And now here you were, and the Waynes did notice you in real life. You were important to them. You didn’t want to be, but you were. And again, you have to ask yourself, what would Jason Todd ask of you? What would he want you to do now, in this impossible situation you’ve found yourself in?

You stare at the picture. Stare at the way the sun hits his dark hair and blue eyes. Stare very, very hard. Like he might crawl out and give you a detailed list of what to do. You’d really like a detailed list. Or any guidance at all. Maybe you could go hit up a seance or something.

Your head falls forward into your sun-warmed palms. This is so stupid. No answers are going to fall from the sky, you need to find them yourself. And you’re not going to find them here.

Someone walks up beside you to the old memorial, and you quickly tuck yourself back into an acceptable image. Fold in all the rough edges you can. A tall and well-built man, with a face mask, sunglasses and a trucker hat, he looks like he could be a celebrity or something. Someone important, much more than you.

And you weren’t, not technically, at least. The universe had done the equivalent of a shelving error, and now here you goddamn were.

He does an odd pose next to you, something military-esque, where he clasps his hands together and bows his head. With a quick flick of your eyes you confirm, yes, his feet are equal with his shoulders. It’s obvious that he’s paying his respects so you do your best not to judge him too hard.

And then he speaks to you.

“I’m sorry.”

You look up, startled and confused.

“For your loss,” the deep voice finishes, jerking his head toward the pictures in front of the two of you.

“Wha- oh uh, um,” you blink and then realise that this person has recognised you, which would make sense since you are literally in one of the photos in front of you, and manage to pull your fading conscious mind back together for a moment more.

“Thank you, uh-” you stare at him a moment longer, “You too?”

Almost worse than that time you told the barista who gave you your coffee you hoped she enjoyed hers too, but not quite. Well, you know, he’d probably lost someone here too. You don’t know why he’d be here otherwise unless he wanted an autograph or something. The thought almost makes you laugh.

He snorts at your words. You don’t know what to make of that.

He looks back down at the pictures and flowers. You think he does, at least, from the slight shifting of his head. He’s kind of mysterious. Pair that with the deep voice, the muscular and tall physique, and you’re an odd mix of attracted and socially anxious. Not that you’re not always socially anxious, but this guy feels… strong. Dumb again, you can see his biceps from here but…

You just can’t quite shake it off. Strong. Strong.

“They didn’t deserve it, none of them did,” he speaks again, and you wonder what the fuck he’s going on about at all.

You admit, you sound a little bitter when you mutter, “Well, that’s obvious.”

He lets out a bark of laughter, and you see his eyes flash to you from under his sunglasses. A shade of blue. There’s another odd pause, and then he turns to you. You don’t know why he’s looking at you. He crosses his arms, and seems to size you up.

“What are you doing here?” he asks you like he knows you.

Your brow furrows. Okay, kind of losing any hotness points here. Bothering someone who was grieving could’ve been seen as rude from the very start, but you’d just thought he was weird. Now, you thought he was weird and rude.

“…Paying my respects. Obviously,” you gesture downwards, “My mother, my siblings, and…”

Well, how would you describe the relationship between you and Jason Todd now? He was still just a stranger to you and-

“With who, that guy?”

Now, it isn’t often that you’re stunned into silence, but at the moment you can’t find it in you to do anything but stare and gape. Frankly, you’re astonished! You’ve never met anyone who spoke so rudely of the dead, and well, he couldn’t have picked a worse person to do it in front of.

“Excuse me?” your voice can’t seem to convey even half of your offence, even as you sound like you’re about ready to bite a second person for today. The man pauses like you’ve surprised him, which- what the fuck is going on? Why do you feel like an alien crash-landed on Earth these days?

“No, I just meant-” he huffs, shakes his head, and continues, his voice now offended too, “What the fuck am I saying? Yes, I did mean that. That little twerp was a naive idiot who was manipulated by the people he believed in most.”

You stare, absolutely speechless, as the stranger goes on a damn-fucking-near crazed rant about one of the people most important to you. Never met? Sure. Dead as hell? Absolutely. But still, he was one of your lifelines. Your candlelight in the dark, guiding your way even when you felt completely lost. And now he’s calling him a naive idiot? You can practically feel the steam coming out of your ears.

“He changed nothing, made no difference in the end-”

“Nothing?!” you practically shriek, finally able to find your voice just to use it to shout, “He changed… so much! He donated millions of dollars, did heaps of charity work, was practically a treasure to our city… He made multiple homeless shelters, an orphanage, helped rehabilitate criminals and countless other things.”

Your fists are clenched tight enough that they shake. You hide them behind your back, but you still feel like he can probably see them. Your emotions are simmering too close to the surface, bubbling over and onto the floor. About to burn his sneakers to ash.

“You seem like you care a lot,” he says, sounding reserved.

“Of course, I care.”

“…It’s just, you didn’t seem the type, on the TV,” he keeps talking, poking at you for some god-awful reason, and you bark out a harsh laugh.

“Maybe people need to stop making so many fucking assumptions, then? It certainly hasn’t gotten you anywhere,” you throw your hands up, damn sick of all the constant fucking surveillance you’re under. You can see why this version of you lost her mind. You’re near about to as well.

He stares at you for a moment longer, and you start feeling too uncomfortable. It’s a stupid and useless protectiveness that has you staying. Like he’ll somehow try and harm the shrine to your people. It’s happened before, Joker fanboys defacing it and such. This guy could be one of those bastards.

And yet… somehow you feel…

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he finally says.

“Good, you do that.”

“But in the end, nothing’s really changed. Joker’s still out and about, as you well know.”

You physically flinch like you’ve been slapped. For a good minute there, all you can do is stare at him in disbelief. You raise one shaking fist, and lift one trembling finger, pointing. The man looks in the direction you’ve pointed, and when he doesn’t see anything, turns back to you. His sunglasses reflect the grey afternoon sun.

“Go,” you order, voice shaking just like the rest of you.

He just keeps staring at you. You wish he’d take off those dumb fucking glasses, so you could see this asshole’s face. Etch it into your mind. He doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t take any action. He simply waits for you to… Well, you don’t know what you’ll do. You haven’t known what you’d do since you left Dick behind two hours ago.

“You need to go,” you say again, and again, he doesn’t fucking move, “You… there’s… you have no right.”

You can hear the buzz of the city around you, the wind rushing by. His clothes rustle in the wind. Your voice sounds too loud in your ears, but he won’t just… he won’t leave. You don’t want this stranger here, watching you. Judging you. It’s all…

“Jason didn’t do anything wrong,” you say, and you think to yourself, desperately, ‘I didn’t do anything wrong.’

There’s a slight shift in the stranger’s posture. His shoulders tensed.

You think you’ve offended him.

“The Joker… That’s nobody's fault but the government for not just sucking it up and giving him the death penalty, or Batman’s for not doing it himself a long time ago. They’re all fucking useless, but they’re the ones who are supposed to be dealing with this!” you continue, your words growing more heated. It’s only the already looming threat of an assault case that keeps you from shoving the guy. Not like you’d be able to move him an inch, of course, he was huge.

You’re sure it would feel good, though.

“It was never some random teenager's responsibility, and it wasn't mine either,” you say, but find yourself pausing for a moment when you hear the end of your sentence. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like it wasn’t obvious anyway.

You’d tied yourself and Jason up together in your head. To you, you were both two sides of the same coin. One foot in the grave. You’ve got one foot in the grave…

“Jason Todd was a good person, and he made the world a better place.”

You look down at the portrait of the boy, his toothy smile twisting at your heart. None of this was fair. None of this had ever been fair. Why was this guy acting like anybody here had ever been able to do anything about it? Like Jason should’ve been smarter, and avoided a fucking bomb blast?

It was stupid. This was stupid, and you were over it. You were tired.

“And I miss him.”

It’s quiet after you say that.

“I don’t know how you can think it’s fair to act like his death was pointless when… of course it was, all of this was pointless,” you say, throwing your hands wide and gesturing to the entire memorial. “This was a tragedy, but Jason was a victim. And I’m sick of people like you who think they can decide whether someone else’s life was lived right. It’s not your damn right.”

“Now… fuck off!” you announce, and to your shock, he does. He fucks right off. The man gives you one last lingering look, and then turns and leaves without another word. Not like you needed them.

You huff out a shocked breath, and then turn back to the memorial.

The framed faces of your loved ones stare back at you, and for all you know it’s stupid, you can’t help but feel embarrassed for the display. You know your mother would’ve scolded you for your language, at least.

“Sorry,” you say, and you’re unfortunately reminded of that irritating man again. Likely that won’t be the first time he pops up again in your head. He seemed well, insane. Which wasn’t that odd in Gotham but… god, you just couldn’t seem to let it go.

It pissed you off to high heaven. His rudeness was something you’d usually be able to shrug off, especially from some random stranger, but, but, but-! Argh, damn it all. And it wasn’t like that was the first time you had had that sort of conversation, but it was certainly the first time someone had been so bold as to bring it up in front of your dead mother’s smiling face.

Earlier today had snuffed out the fire in you, but that encounter had been the spark to reignite it. More than that, actually. It had made you so damn pissed, made your blood boil in a way you just couldn’t ignore, to the point that you wanted to prove him wrong.

Jason Todd had mattered and had made a difference and change in Gotham. He had made a change in you. You put your hands on your hips, stare down at the flowers, and make a decision.

You’re going to fix your goddamn life. For Jason Fucking Todd.

Your body feels like shit, your brain feels like it’s stuffed with cotton wool, and yet this is the greatest opportunity you’ve ever been given. You have a chance to save yourself, and save your friends, and fix all the tiny little problems in Gotham that you’ve suffered through since childhood. Surely just throwing enough money at all your problems would fix some of them.

You were rich. If you couldn’t fix your life with millions of dollars available, then you had no chance.

And yeah, you don’t know what you’re doing. You know you can’t really change what happened. Back then or even just a few days ago. But you hate that. You hate it so much. You hate how weak you are in the face of loss. How both then and now, there’s nothing you can really do. And maybe if just out of spite, towards that asshat, Batman, Joker and everyone else, you want to make a change.

You want to be able to do something about it. You want it, so fucking bad.

First order of business?

…You want more flowers.

MASTERLIST - NEXT

[jungkookstatts]

Not in the Way You Think

[Summary]: You've been after your best friend for ages. But how are you supposed to know that he's after you too if he insists on being a bachelor until his dying breath?

[Theme]: ChildHoodFriendsToLovers!AU, NonIdol!AU, VirginReader!AU, BachelorJK!Au, Fuck-Boy JK, Virgin Reader

[Rating]: 18+, explicit content, dry humping, protected sex, fluff, somewhat angst, many many years of pining, making out, oral. Soft dom/Dom JK, sub Reader, virgin things, mention of alcohol and a pen

[Word Count]: 6,043

[A/N]: Hi. I've resurrected. For now. Enjoy! Also, if anyone knows what's going on with my materialist -- sos!!

[Materialist]

“Sorry, but there’s no fucking way,” your best friend scoffs against the lip of his dab pen. He was about to take a hit, but was abruptly stopped before you told him something completely unbelievable to his ears.

“Jungkook, I’m serious,” you whine.

God, this is so embarrassing. You fiddle with the rims of your hoodie's sleeve, examining it in shame. You can’t dare to look at the face of your best friend on the other side of the couch. His words already make you feel embarrassed enough, you can’t imagine what looking at his face would do.

“Y/n,” he starts again, that disbelieving smirk proving to adorn his features. “You’re 24 years old. What the fuck.”

“24-year-olds can be virgins, too, Jungkook,” you roll your eyes. “Not everyone strives to have over 30 bodies on their ‘fucked list’ by this age.”

You feel so embarrassed. Of all people, you thought your best friend wouldn’t shame you like this. It’s already embarrassing enough to be at this age and to not have tried anything sexual with anyone before. You’re inexperienced. You know that. But the conversation originally didn’t start this way. What was once a talk about which flavored soju was better than the other, turned into a ridiculing conversation about your lame sex life. The last thing you need is his bantering about how shocking it is to hear everything you haven’t done yet.

“57,” he corrects you with yet another smirk. This time, there’s a tease in his eye, obviously waiting for your reaction on his body count number. 

“Whatever,” you roll your eyes. “Forget it.” 

You try to grab the remote on the coffee table, but Jungkook takes it before you can. 

“Wait, now,” he laughs when you smack his arm. “I’m not done asking about this yet.” 

“Jungkook!” you whine. “I’m seriously so embarrassed. I don’t want to talk about it with you anymore.”

“Have you ever kissed anyone?!” He raises his pierced eyebrow. “What about Taehyung? And Soobin? Aren’t those guys your ex���s? You had to have done something with them, Y/n, c’mon.” 

“Yes!” you blush harshly. “Of course I’ve kissed people before. I’ve just never…done anything dirty with them.” 

“Not even like a hand job or anything?” he raises his other eyebrow.

“Jungkook, please stop reacting like that. You’re making me feel worse,” you tuck your hair behind your ear. 

It’s no news that Jungkook is not only your childhood best friend but he’s also been a notorious fuck-boy since about 5 years ago when the two of you moved to a different city to attend the same college. He has always told you that he was going to spend his university life being a bachelor, making it a goal of his to see how many girls he could get underneath him by the age of 25. He's gathered quite a lot. Except now, he’s more knowledgeable than you for once, and you’re not taking the news so well.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. But his words prove to be carried with no remorse. “Not even oral?” 

“Jungkook!” you kick his knee. “Seriously. I continued this conversation with you because I thought you’d be nicer about it. You’re obviously the experienced one here. But clearly, you’re not experienced enough to know that not everyone is constantly looking for which sexual activity to try on the next stranger.” 

You’ve been his #1 ear to all of his stories for years now, no matter how repetitive they can be…or how much they secretly punch you in the gut every time he tells you a new one.

The two of you couldn’t be more opposite. He’s sporty and social, you’re quiet and mellow. He’s into the music and business world, whereas you’re into radiology and all-things-hospital. He’d rather spend his free time partying and making himself feel good in any way that he can, whereas you’d spend your free time wrapped in a book or having coffee over a new podcast about aliens.

But no matter your differences, the grunge boy that you grew up with sitting on the opposite side of the couch, making fun of you and laughing at the sheer difference in how the two of you chose to live out your college years, will always be your best friend. He might remain a crush or even your first love, but nothing can change the fact that the two of you click like two peas in a pod. You couldn’t trade anything for that, even your secrets about what you feel for him. 

“Woah, hey,” he chuckles. “Sorry. I’m just–wow. It’s just shocking to me, I don’t know. Especially for you.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you scrunch your eyebrows together. 

“Well, I mean,” he laughs awkwardly, putting his pen on the table. “It’s no secret you were the girl every guy was trying to get into their bed all throughout college…and high school.” 

“Tch,” you shake your head. “As if, Kook. Don’t try to make up for ridiculing me about my sex life by covering it up with fake scenarios.”

“I’m serious, Y/n. Just as serious as you are about this,” he says. “You thought that Soobin, the university's #1 crush–a guy even more wanted than me–would agree to go out with you and date you if you weren’t the hottest chick in the school?” 

“Yeah, well, that was short-lived,” you scoff, remembering the events of your break up. “He didn’t really want me. Or well, he did, but not like how I thought.”

“This is why I’m shocked,” he explains further. “Literally every man that I knew talked about you. I don’t know how their efforts could have gone unnoticed by you. But I guess you were too in your head to notice. You had the hottest man in the school, but not even that was enough to even make you think about doing anything with him?” 

As much as that information flatters you, it doesn’t satisfy you at all. Truthfully, Jungkook could talk about any man in the world that might want you. But if that category doesn’t include him, the thought doesn’t arouse you at all. 

Your own brain can’t even wrap itself around why you were so hung up on him. Why would you possibly want a guy like Jungkook to want you. He’s careless and reckless. He doesn’t give things a second thought and pushes all your buttons at the worst times. He’s foolish and irresponsible – a walking stick screaming ‘bad news’.

But at the same time, he is oh-so gentle. He’s kind and sweet, considerate and respectful. His touch makes you jolt, and his voice relieves your headaches in an instant. You feel safe when he is there, and absolutely terrified when he is not. He’s strong and capable, but also sentimental at heart. 

You don’t think you could find anyone else like him in the world. No one like your Jungkook. 

No wonder your past relationships didn’t work out for you. Taehyung you broke up with out of frustration. It was with him that you realized that Jungkook was too in your head to be dating anyone fairly. And just when you thought you were over Jungkook being your ideal man, Soobin walked into your life. But since he broke up with you over your own inexperience, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about how maybe you waited too long. No one wants someone who has no idea what they’re doing in the bedroom at the age of 24. Most of society at this age is dating to marry. You’re still dating for the experience. 

“It’s not that I didn’t think about doing anything with him,” you respond. “I just–I don’t know. I couldn’t. It didn’t feel right. He wasn’t–I don’t know. We just weren’t a good match. The same goes for Taehyung and everyone else before him and Soobin.”

Your best friend is quiet for a moment, trying to wrap his head around everything that you’re saying.

“But it’s all irrelevant now,” you continue. “We’re graduated, and there’s nothing I can do about previous male efforts towards getting me in their sheets. It’s just–there’s something wrong with me.” 

“Clearly,” Jungkook agrees. “Sex is like–life. You truly don’t know until you try. Do you even masturbate?” 

“Jungkook,” you sigh quietly, as a disappointed palm presses against your forehead. “You weren’t supposed to agree to that.” 

“Well, do you?” 

“Of course, I masturbate.” 

“And that hasn’t persuaded you at all? Don’t you imagine what it would feel like to have something other than your fingers or some toy getting you off?” 

“That’s so graphic,” you scowl. 

“Well, do you?” 

You roll your eyes. 

“I do, don’t get me wrong,” you agree. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just too hung up on a scenario that’s not possible–at least not for me.”

“You’re pined after by millions, Y/n,” he sits up straight on the couch, his legs folding against the cushions to get a better look at you. “Any scenario is possible in your world. Especially related to sex. You could get any man that you wanted to if you just broke down a wall or two and went after them.” 

“That’s not–never mind,” you give up. You’re too embarrassed to admit anything. You also don’t really want to. Risking your friendship with Jungkook isn’t worth letting out a secret like this. You’d lose him forever, and you can’t risk that. “No one wants a 24-year-old virgin,” you begin again, trying to move on from your previous words. “Unless they’re a crazy perv, or one of those dudes who thinks that only ‘marriageable girls’ should be virgins until they tie the knot. And, well, those guys are just…weird.” 

Jungkook laughs at your words and a small smile forms on your lips from the sound of his laugh. 

“Y/n, what are you saying?” he exclaims amidst his laughter. “Look at you! You haven't lost a cent of your desirability in all the years I’ve known you. Any guy would want you.”

“But not you,” 

“Huh?” 

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck. Why did you just say that?! 

The thought slipped past your lips without a second thought. There’s heat in your cheeks, and you can’t bear to look at Jungkook’s face. You might have fucked everything up now. Just over a thought you didn’t think twice about. Your brain must have been done suppressing it, but now you have to sit here and wait for the consequences of letting it all go. 

“Sorry,” you clear your throat. “C-Can you give me the remote? I’d like to drop this and finish this show.” 

“Nuh-uh,” he laughs in disbelief. His rough hand gently wraps around your wrist, forcing you to look at him again. “What did you just say?” 

“Jungkook, please,” you cry. There’s fear in your voice. You’re so scared of losing him, you can’t even think properly. All you want to do is pretend like nothing happened. Like this whole conversation didn’t happen and you were back to talking about flavored soju. The thought of losing your best friend floods your mind, and you beg him with your eyes to stop. But he’s unrelenting. 

Jungkook scoffs at the look in your eye, his grip loosening on your wrist before sliding it off completely. 

“Y/n, you are so oblivious, it actually gets on my nerves more than anything in this world sometimes,” he says. 

You feel your heart sink to your stomach. 

“I didn’t think I’d actually have to tell you this because I thought it was obvious how I feel about you,” he laughs to himself. “I don’t know how long you’ve noticed, or if you’ve even noticed at all, but I’ve had a crush on you since freshman year of high school, Y/n. And it’s only grown since then. So don’t think for a second that I wouldn’t want you.” 

Words fail to leave your lips. You’ve had so much shock and embarrassment during your time spent with him tonight. But nothing could have prepared you for this. 

“Jungkook, none of this is making sense,” you stop him. As much as your heart leaps at his confession, a part of you is still completely misunderstanding something. “You mean to tell me that you’ve had a crush on me for how long? And yet in the meantime, you’ve made it your mission to be with every woman on campus? How in the world do you expect me to think you had feelings for me when every Saturday morning you tell me about whose pussy you were up the night before? How was I supposed to know?”

There’s a bit of anger in your voice. All these years of getting your heart shattered over his countless stories about girls that weren’t you. About how he kissed Emily on Friday night and then fucked her best friend, Rachel, in the ass a few hours later. About how he went all the way home one weekend just to fuck your high school calculus teacher. Or about the countless times you’ve walked into your shared apartment with him, only to look down and see an extra pair of girly high-heels sitting by the door next to his shoes. Or the many pairs of unfamiliar panties you’ve found in the wash. Or the smell of strong perfume constantly stained on his side of the couch. 

“How in the world did I expect you to think I had feelings for you?” he reiterated your questions irritably. “Y/n, I asked you to be my date to prom! Hell, don’t even try to cut out the fact that we almost kissed when we graduated high school. I hung out with you every day after school in both high school and college. Fuck, half the reason I came to this university was to be by your side. We even have an apartment together!” 

“You’re my best friend, Jungkook!” you explain. 

“You don’t have to remind me,” he runs his hands through his hair in frustration. “I gave up trying to make us anything more than friends a while ago. Fuck, every time I lay with a girl it’s the biggest reminder of all that we’ll only be friends.” 

“Fuck you, Jungkook,” you cry. A tear falls down your cheek from his words. God, you’re so frustrated and angry and annoyed and so relieved. You don’t know which emotion to put first. “Fuck you. You shattered me into pieces. You call me oblivious when I’ve spent years loving you. But you’ve been too busy telling me about who you’re going to fuck next to notice." 

Jungkook breathes heavily, anger leaving his nostrils. His eyes are foreign to yours. You’ve never seen so much emotion in them at once. 

And then suddenly he’s on your side of the couch, hovering over you, holding your jaw in his big, tattooed palm. His lips sear against yours kissing you with passion you’ve never felt before. 

It’s second nature to hold his face in your hands. His ears slip between your middle and index finger; the cool metal of his earrings touches your skin gently. 

You moan into him when you glide your right hand into his locks, pressing him tighter against your body. Jungkook grunts at the feeling of your hand in his hair. Never in a million years did he think he'd feel you like this. No matter how many times he’s imagined it before, no matter how many times he’s pretended it was you instead of the stranger beneath him, the feeling of imagining you is nothing compared to the feeling of actually having you right there in his arms. 

You can feel him lay his weight heavier on you the more you kiss him. It prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him tighter against your body. 

Jungkook’s lips detach from yours slowly, his thumb lightly pressing against your bottom lip as he pulls away. 

“I’m sorry,” he kisses you again slowly. It’s wet and soft, but you don’t mind. It’s him, and he feels right. “I guess we gave each other too many mixed signals.” 

You kiss him back, holding his chin between your index finger and thumb. 

“Are my signals clear now?” you ask him gently. 

“If you’re telling me that you want me…more than just friends,” he presses his nose against yours. “Then they’re clear as day.” 

You smile against his lips when he indulges on you again. Jungkook kisses you slowly and softly for another few minutes. It’s much different from the kissing you did a few minutes ago. This time, he’s gentle, and so are you. Your hands find purchase at the base of his scalp again, and you smile as he moans at the feeling. This is a whole new learning curve for you, and you’re finally going through lessons you’ve restricted yourself from accessing for a very long time. It feels so good. It feels amazing to have him in your arms like this. 

But still, somehow there’s something missing. There’s a pit in your stomach, a wetness in between your thighs that begs you to rub up against him. And so you do, but you’re stopped with a firm hand on your hip from the man above you. You suddenly feel embarrassed again. 

"Y/n,” he pants against your lips. He looks down at your conjoined hips. A part of him feels embarrassed at the sight–he doesn’t think he’s been more hard in his life. But he respects you more than to indulge in his own fantasy right now. “You’re still a virgin,” he reminds you. 

“I know,” you exhale. “But I want you, Kook. I want you to be the one to take it.” 

“Y/n,” he coos, swiping his thumb across your cheek. “I think you should think about it. I’m not the most romantic person in bed. I also don’t think I’m cut out to be your first. I don’t deserve you like that.” 

“Don’t say that Jungkook,” you scrunch your eyebrows together. “You say that as if I haven’t been imagining you in the same way that you imagine me. You say that as if I haven’t been waiting for 10 years to kiss you like this. I want you. I’ve wanted you for so long, and I think this moment is why I haven’t been able to indulge in sex with anyone else. I feel right with you.” 

You watch his eyes dart from your eyes to your lips. He’s lazy with his decision on which to focus on right now. His heart is so overwhelmed, he doesn't know which feature of yours to honor first. 

“What are you doing to me,” he laughs at himself. You smile back at him, and he swears nothing has ever been more right than how it is at this moment. 

“Will you take me, Jungkook?” you ask him again, much softer this time. It sounds strange coming from your mouth. You’ve never asked anyone to do that for you. The only person you’ve wanted, or have imagined, taking it away from you has been Jungkook. And here he is above you. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. Your words send all the blood straight to his cock, as if it didn’t have enough blood in it already. “If that’s what you want.” 

“It’s what I want,” you confirm with him. “I want you.” 

“God, I want you, too,” he says, kissing you passionately yet again. This time, he scoops you into his arms, sitting you up on his lap. You straddle him perfectly, your thighs hugging his, and your core pressed temptingly against his own. 

Jungkook moans at the feeling, his hands finding purchase on your hips before slowly grinding them against his own. 

Your hands fall from his jaw to his shoulder, the feeling of his clothed dick against your pussy is much more shocking than you thought it would be. Never in a million years did you think such a strange action would feel so good. 

“Kook,” you whine against his lips. 

He breathes lightly against yours, trying to keep his composure as you make yourself feel good on his thighs. 

“Can I touch you?” he asks gently. His hands remain on your hips until you nod, giving him permission to explore your body in whichever way he would like to first. 

He watches your face as he slides his hands up to your waist. His fingers make their way under your silk pajama shirt, causing you to jolt at the feeling of his skin against yours. It puts a desire in your heart that you’ve never felt before. You’ve never wanted to explore anyone else like this. 

“C-Can I touch you?” You ask him this time. 

Jungkook laughs a little at you asking for his permission. In a way, he’s not really used to that. He finds it endearing that even though he’s fucked a lot of girls in his lifetime, the fact doesn’t take away that he’s still worthy of asking something like that to you. The other part of him laughs as if he’d ever say no to you. 

“Please,” he gives you permission. 

With that, you look at the fabric of his shirt leaning against his collarbone. His typical black shirt covers just enough to make you curious. 

But your eyes move to your own hands, which are delicately mimicking his actions, except they start by pushing up his shirt from the bottom. Your fingertips feel his abs underneath them. They’re defined, and you hate to admit that they make you really nervous. 

Your eyes flick to his, and they read your mind like a book. 

With one motion, he takes his hands off your waist and pulls his shirt off, revealing all his glory to you in one quick second. 

You take a deep breath, and he chuckles a little. But his laughs stop the minute you touch him again. They slide up his abs, your fingertips feeling his honey skin underneath you. They slide to his arm, covered in ink. They’re a perfect representation of him, and you haven’t told him enough how much you love them. They’re passionate and edgy, handsome and strong, but gentle and honest all at the same time. 

You almost get lost in his ink when he slides his fingers further up your shirt. 

Your breath stops in your throat when he grazes his fingers on the underside of your boob. You’re not wearing a bra, and the fact only excites Jungkook more. 

But he wants to be patient with you, even though he knows that the two of you want this so badly. 

“Can I?” he asks again. 

“Yes,” you give him permission in a whisper. 

With that, he slides the silk fabric up and over your shoulder, his breath stopping in his throat when he sees you. 

“Fuck Y/n,” he breathes out. He looks to you for permission again to touch you, and you nod with a small smile on your face. 

Jungkook gently cups the underside of your breasts, his body leaning forward as he does so. His lips wrap around your nipple and you gasp when he twirls his tongue around your sensitive bud. 

The sensation prompts you to press your hips deeper against his, eliciting the sweetest sound from his throat. His black jeans frustrate him, the barrier is too thick between you and him. 

He sucks on you harder before popping off and transferring his torture to your other nipple. Your pussy feels like it’s almost gushing arousal from his mouth alone. A raspy moan leaves your mouth as he gently bites on your bud, prompting you to tug at his hair. 

“K-Kook,” you moan. “Please,” you beg. 

Jungkook pops off your nipple, his mouth trailing kisses up to your neck. His hands slide up your back, holding you close against his chest as he kisses and sucks on the sweetest parts of your neck. You know he’s learning you, and you’re 100% willing to let him continue. 

“I want you inside of me,” you pant against his ear. “Please, Kook. I want you.” 

Jungkook pulls away, resting his hands on your waist again. 

He looks at you with more seriousness now, although his lips are red and swollen and his skin is starting to shimmer with the slightest bit of sweat. 

“Are you sure?” He asks you again.

“Yes,” you hold his cheek. 

“Okay,” he smiles. 

With that, he stands up with you wrapped around his waist. You know where you’re going, and you giggle against his neck at the fact that this is reality. You’re in his arms, your skin against his, and he’s on his way to make you feel closer to him than you ever have before. This is the only man that you’d let do this to you, you’ve realized. And the relief that it is finally happening makes you giddy and so so happy on the inside. You can’t help but hold him closer. 

Jungkook gently lays you on his sheets. They smell like him, and you feel warm inside when he tops off the scent with himself hovering over you. 

“Have you…you know,” he gulps. “Used anything before?” 

“Like a dildo?” you clarify. 

“Yeah,” he kisses your neck again. He’s completely overwhelmed with you. He can’t stop kissing you, and he doesn't want to stop anytime soon. The urge to mark you as his own–to show every man that you belong to him–is so strong. He can’t help being so proud that this has finally happened. That you’re with him, and that this is the start of something new between the two of you. 

“Other than my fingers,” you sigh. “No, not really.” 

Suddenly, Jungkook stands up, uncomfortably fiddling with the zipper of his jeans. What you said made his dick hurt with arousal. His jeans are too tight on him now, and he wants to feel all of your skin against his. 

You watch him take off his jeans, feeling overwhelmed by the look of his cock springing free underneath his gray Calvin’s. 

“S-Sorry,” he apologizes for the change in pace. “They were getting tight.” 

“I can see why,” you exhale. 

You feel taken aback by Jungkook’s size. It’s still clothed by his boxers, and he already looks like he’s going to rip you open. No wonder he is in such high demand. 

“I’ll prep you,” he promises. “N’ go slow.” 

You watch him give himself a few pumps over his boxers, closing his eyes from the feeling of releasing a little bit of tension. He smiles when his eyes land on your face, your eyes completely fixated on his dick. 

“Something caught your eye?” he laughs at the expression on your face. 

“Shut up,” you smile. 

Your breath stills when he hooks his fingers around the rim of your pants, asking your eyes for permission before he continues. You allow him, and soon you’re left in just a pair of boy shorts with a huge stain soaking at your core. The sight has Jungkook immediately leaning himself on his elbows against the mattress to get a better look. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, sliding his hands on the underside of your thigh. He pushes your legs up, examining you for the first time. “You’re soaked, Y/n.” 

“S-Shut up,” you shy. “Do something already.” 

Jungkook laughs at your embarrassment, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband of your underwear and sliding it up and off your body. 

“As you wish,” he whispers against your core. You don’t even have time to react before his mouth gently envelopes your clit. He sucks on it as you squirm beneath him, the intensity of his pleasure feeling like it’s going to be a lot to handle. 

You slide your fingers into his hair when he plays at your entrance. It’s so wet, and he can’t control himself from sliding his finger in, knuckles deep, as you moan from his actions. 

Your responses only fuel his fire, causing him to lap you up even more, to slip another finger in and curl it up into your g-spot. He can feel you tense, and he knows you’re close. He wants you to get there, but you stop him before he has the chance to. 

“Want you, Kook,” you whine. “I wanna cum with you.” 

“You wanna cum with me?” he restated your statement as a question. 

You nod feverishly against his pillows, your eyes coming to lock with his. 

“I want you inside of me when you make me feel good,” you explain. “That’s how I want it.” 

Jungkook gulps. Fuck, if that wasn’t the hottest thing he’s ever heard. 

“If that’s how you want it,” he smiles. 

With a swift motion, he gets up to take off his boxers, his dick slapping against his abdomen as he does so. 

It's almost comical how quickly he reaches for a condom in his nightstand drawer, slipping it on while his eyes stay right on yours. They tell you he’s been longing for you for so long. That this moment was one that he always dreamt of, but never thought would become a reality. You can only hope that yours convey the same. 

Jungkook hovers over you again, his tip lining up with your entrance. 

“Are you sure you want this? I can stop right now if you want me to,” he asks you again. There’s a worry in his eyes, as if he doesn’t think he’s the right one to take this from you. 

“I want you, Koo. I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. Please take me,” you plea. 

You watch that man above you gulp before he kisses the tip of your nose. He rests his elbows on the sides of your head, trapping you underneath him. With a kiss, you feel the burn of being stretched suddenly flood your system. He pushes in slowly, your back arching into him as he struggles to find a normal breathing pace. 

It hurts, but he goes slow. He’s aware of your discomfort, and he wants you to say something before he continues. 

“S’ this okay?” he asks you. 

When you look down, you realize he’s only half way, and your head tilts back against sheets. He’s so big, you don’t know what to do with yourself. 

“Mmhm,” you grip his shoulders. “You can move, Kook.” 

Jungkook pulls out, and then goes back in quicker and deeper this time. The feeling causes you to dig your nails into the skin of his back, the pain and pleasure bringing you to a high you’ve never felt before. 

“Ahh- Y/n,” Jungkook moans on top of you. His head falls into the crook of your neck as he keeps a steady and slow pace. “You feel so good,” he pants against your skin. 

“F-Faster, Kook,” you beg, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

“Mm,” he hums, happily obliging to your request. 

Jungkook speeds up the pace, his hips slapping against yours lewdly. There's so much liquid shared between the two of you, but neither of you care. It feels too good to stop. 

“M’ feel good, baby?” He asks you, hovering his lips above yours. “This what you wanted?” 

“Y-Yes,” you cry, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach from the name he called you.

Jungkook suddenly takes your hips in his hands firmly. Sitting on the back of his heels, his body towers over you before ramming his hips into yours again. The action causes you to tilt your head back, feeling fuller than you were just a minute ago in this new position. 

“Yeah?” He licks his lips. His face looks demonic–like an actual sex demon is on top of you right now. “This is what you wanted, huh? You wanted to be fucked by this fat cock so bad, didn’t you, hm?” 

Jungkooks fingers grip your hips tighter, slamming them against his own even harder than he did before. You can feel him against your cervix, hitting your g-spot with every exit and entrance of his cock in your pussy. 

“Wanted you so bad, Koo,” you cry. 

You feel your toes start to curl, and a part of you feels scared that you might cum too quickly. You want this to last longer. 

“Yeah?” He bites his lip. Hearing you say that makes his head go fuzzy. The girl he’s wanted for so long, the girl he thought he could never have, is finally his. And he’s a part of something that is so special to you, he feels honored and overwhelmed all at the same time. “You gonna cum for me, baby? Gonna cum on my dick?” 

“K-Kook,” you whine. “S-Say you wanted me, too. S-Say–” 

“Fuck, Y/n, I wanted you so bad,” he grunts at the thought. He feels angry for the time he’s lost due to thinking one thing when it was actually the other. He could have been with you like this every night. He could have been loving you and holding your hand, and kissing you all day long had he just grown a pair and done it earlier. He should have kissed you at graduation all that time ago. Or maybe even earlier at prom. He’s wanted you all along. And thinking about how he felt when you got together with Taehyung and Soobin made him feel a jealousy he’s never felt before. He can only imagine what he’s done to you. The fact that he had someone new every night to talk to you about makes his heart hurt with the fact that telling you those things might have shattered your heart into dust just as you dating someone else did to his own. 

“I wanted you then, and I want you now, and I want you after,��� he continues. “I don’t want to let you go ever again.” 

Your back arches from his words, your neck falling back from the pleasure and the pain all at once. 

“Koo,” you grab onto his wrist. “I think I’m gonna cum.” 

“Yeah?” He bites his lip again. His hair falls in front of his face as he watches your breasts move with his dick inside of you. “Cum for me baby, I’m not that far behind.” 

Jungkook falls on top of you again. But this time, he brings your legs up over his shoulders, pushing into you even further than before. You’re starting to think he has an endless cock. Every new position he puts you in, you feel another inch inside of you. 

You feel a white heat wash over you, and somehow you see stars as he continuously moves his dick in you harshly. 

“A-Ahh,” you hear him moan. “You’re so tight–m’ gonna cum,” he tells you against your ear. “S’ that–that alright?” 

He holds out until you let him, nodding into his cheek, too blissed out from your orgasm to form a worded response. 

His thrusts get sloppy after you give him permission. The last few of them are hard and deep before you feel his dick pulse inside of you. A stream of sweet moans and your name falls from his lips as he releases inside of you. Out of all the music in the world, this is the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. 

After a few moments to catch a breath, he pulls out, not wanting any of his cum to leak out of the condom as he begins to soften from his post-sex glory. Jungkook kisses you gently, moving your hair off your sweaty face. He kisses your cheek and your forehead before tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“You okay?” he asks you gently. 

You laugh at his question. Hell, you were more than okay. Your best friend, first love, and current love, just took your virginity. Although you know you have a lot to experience in the sexual world, you whole-heartedly believe that it cannot get any better than this. 

“Yes, are you?” you ask him back. 

Jungkook laughs in the same way that you laughed at him. 

“Is it safe to say that you’re my girlfriend now?” he asks. 

“Only if the feeling is mutual.” 

-----

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts, 2023 ]

[puckinghischier]

Spotlight

luke hughes x fem!reader

summary - reader prefers to stay out of the spotlight being luke hughes’ girlfriend brings

notes - y’all asked for luke, so luke you’ll get. i wanted to try to get out at least one more fic for you guys before my semester kicks off tomorrow. i don’t know how often i’ll be able to write once things get going, but i’m going to try my best not to completely disappear again. i don’t really like the ending of this, but i hope you enjoy it anyways. happy reading! 🫶🏼

request - “go with me?” “only if you’ll hold my hand” “take my jacket, i don’t want you catching a cold”

[2.3k]

You were someone that absolutely hated the spotlight. You hated the feeling of eyes on you, the knowledge that every move you make is being observed and analyzed.

You flew under the radar all through school, until college. You managed to become valedictorian of your program, earning a highly sought after position with a company based out of New Jersey.

The city has always brought a sense of anonymity to you that you’ve enjoyed. The ability to be a stranger everywhere you go brings a certain comfort to you.

That is, until you met one of the most well-known men in Jersey.

You first met Luke at an event your company was hosting in partnership with the Devils to present them with a hefty donation for a new practice facility. You had tried to get out of going, suit and tie events not being your typical scene, but your boss informed you that you were required to attend.

Even wearing the most plain dress you could find, you caught the attention of none other than the team’s rookie defenseman. You had tried to politely make your exit, but Luke was too intrigued by the pretty stranger in the corner.

The two of you had spent the rest of the night talking, despite the feeling of every eye on you as Luke lead you back to a table. The two of you exchanged numbers at the end of the event, Luke inviting you out to a game. He offered to give you a ticket, but you informed him that your company had rink-side season seats, courtesy of the GM after the donation.

You attended games regularly after that night, blending in the sea of red with Luke’s own Jersey on your back—another perk of the large donation— while also chatting with Luke nearly every day over text, which eventually morphed into phone calls, then facetime calls when he was on the road.

Four months after your initial meeting, Luke decided to make it official and put a label on your relationship.

You had worried about the unwanted attention that came with being a ‘WAG’ as you learned the other significant others on the team were nicknamed, but your feelings for Luke were greater than any discomfort you may experience.

Now, though, looking at the hoard of photographers that are stationed around the rink, your anxiety begins to spike a little.

“Honeybee, I promise it’ll be fine. They probably won’t even focus on us, anyways. They’ll want a few shots of me and Jack with mom and dad, but it’s likely they’ll be too busy on the guys with kids to even notice you’re with me,” Luke reassures you, crouched in front of you while tying your skates.

Today was family skate day for the team, Luke having asked you weeks ago to participate with him.

You agreed, despite your limited ability to skate, thinking it was just going to be the players and their families, no media presence. When you arrived with Luke this morning, however, and you saw the photographers trying to get pictures through the windows of Luke’s BMW, you realized you were wrong.

“I’m just nervous, Luke,” you tell him quietly. “I know if they release pictures of you with a girl during family skate it’s going to be the next big hockey gossip topic, and then it’ll feel like I’m under a microscope.”

Luke’s soft eyes look up at you, sensing the nervousness in your own.

“I know, sweet girl. But I promise, I’ll have Tom talk to the media and tell him to withhold any pictures of us together, if that makes you feel better?” he offers, picking up your now skate clad foot off of his knee and placing it on the padded floor.

You think about the offer, but realize it would still cause unwanted attention on you. You don’t want to be difficult, just invisible.

“No, I don’t want to overcomplicate things. It’s fine. Like you said, I’m sure they’ll mostly focus on everyone else,” you smile down at him, watching his own grin overtake his face.

“Well then, it’s time we finally get you acquainted with the ice. I have a feeling you’ll be seeing a lot of it in your future,” he winks, standing to his full height and holding a hand out to help you off of the bench.

He helps you walk over to the entrance to the rink, steadying you after every wobble. Once you reached the gate, you hesitate, halting your movements.

“C’mon, Honeybee. Go with me?” Luke asks you, already having stepped on the ice.

Thinking about what this means once more, and the huge step it is, no only onto the ice but in your relationship, you hesitate for only a few seconds.

“Only if you hold my hand,” you tell him, your words going deeper than just ice skating.

“Always,” he responds, tugging your hands towards him when you step onto the ice, shakily keeping your balance.

“Well, look at you, Wallflower, out here skating with the big dogs,” Jack calls out, skating up towards you and Luke.

Looking over to give him a short smile, you try to keep a majority of your attention on not falling over as Luke slowly pulls you towards him as he skates backwards.

“Figured it can’t be that hard if you do it all the time,” you tease him back, the two of you becoming close friends over the course of yours and Luke’s relationship.

Jack, as rambunctious and rowdy as he can be, is one of the people who works the hardest to keep you out of the spotlight, other than Luke, of course.

On the rare occasion you decide to tag along for team outings with Luke, Jack will act as your own personal body guard, perfectly hiding you in-between him and Luke anytime there’s a flash of a camera or a squeal of a fan.

“Oh, yeah, make fun of the professional. Let’s see you do this,” Jack makes a big show of skating backwards while swiveling, then executing a very poor jump, but still managing to land upright on his skates.

You roll your eyes at him, only glancing up for a few seconds at a time, trying to keep your eyes on your own feet.

“Alright, Jack, that’s enough showing off. Give the poor girl a break,” you hear Ellen scold her middle child as her and Jim skate over towards the three of you, hand in hand.

“Hey, she started it. I was just trying to defend myself,” he holds his hands up in surrender.

Luke guides you over to one of the short walls, allowing you to hold onto it for support for a second, giving you a break.

“Don’t act like you have to have a reason to show off, it’s just your natural state,” you tease Jack again, earning a laugh from the rest of the group.

“You got me there,” Jack doesn’t argue, shrugging his shoulders in agreement.

“Jack! Luke! Over here!” you hear a voice yell, turning to look at the photographer a few feet away from you, leaning over the wall with his camera pointed in your direction.

You feel the spike of anxiety in your chest, attempting to scoot further down the wall to separate yourself from them, but nearly losing your balance.

Luckily Luke was right there to catch you. “Hey, it’s okay. They’ll just get a few pictures of our family together and then move on,” he assures you once he makes sure you’re steady enough to be left alone.

You watch as Jack and Luke position themselves in just the right way that you’re completely hidden behind them, the added bodies of Ellen and Jim only ensuring your hidden state.

The photographer snaps a few shots of the family before giving a thumbs up, looking down to check the quality of his pictures.

You let out the breath you were holding in, sagging a bit at the relief of avoiding any unwanted attention.

“See, told you there was nothing to worry about,” Luke skates over to you again, leading you away from the wall.

“Luke! How about a shot of you and your lady!” the same photographer yells out, causing your relaxed state to turn rigid in a heartbeat.

“Nah, man. No pictures for her today. Just me and Jack,” Luke replies, skating to stand in front of you, blocking you from the camera pointed at you.

“Oh, c’mon, man. The fans will love it!” the photographer tries again, attempting to move positions to catch a glimpse of you.

“He said, no, man. Go get some shots of Cap or something. She doesn’t want her picture taken,” Jack skates up, standing in front of both you and Luke.

The photographer rolls his eyes, agitated at the loss of a good picture opportunity. “Fine, whatever,” the man huffs, turning and walking towards Nico and his family.

“Thanks, you guys,” you mumble out, embarrassed at the interaction.

“I told you, no pictures if you don’t want them,” Luke turns to face you, taking your hands in his once again, pulling you out further onto the ice.

The rest of the skate goes smoothly, no more unwanted attention from the photographers, just you and Luke and his family skating in small circles and having a good time.

Towards the end of the skate, you start bringing your gloved hands up to rub at your red nose, the chill of the ice finally getting to you.

“You cold, Honeybee?” Luke asks you, knowing how chilled you get, even when wearing layers like you were right now.

“Yeah, it’s a little chilly in here. Not that you’d know,” you tease your boyfriend, gesturing to his full set of pads and jersey he was wearing. Not to mention his tolerance for the cold anyways.

He leads the two of you over towards the benches, leaving you leaned against the wall for a second before returning with something in his hands.

“Here, take my jacket, I don’t want you catching a cold,” he tells you, draping your favorite plaid jacket of his over your shoulders.

You put your arms through the large sleeves, loving how you were now engulfed in the smell of his cologne.

Thanking him, you lean up to give him a small kiss, not caring who was watching, lost in your love for your boyfriend.

“Alright, let’s get you out of these skates and back into your normal shoes before people start filing in for warm ups. I have a game to play and you have to get to your seat so you can watch your hunky boyfriend do his manly job of hitting people and chasing a piece of rubber on ice,” he tells you, causing you to laugh at him, bringing a hand up to ruffle his curls.

After helping you remove your skates, and pouting until you give him a good luck kiss, Luke shoos you away so you can make your way to your usual seat, Jim and Ellen opting to join you at the glass rather than sitting in a box with some of the other player parents.

The boys ended up winning their game, Luke coming straight out of the locker room after the game and picking you up in a celebratory spin, claiming you have to go skating with him before every game now.

You laugh at his superstitious self, grabbing his hand and walking towards the exit of the rink with him to join the rest of the team for celebratory drinks, not wanting to bail on Luke after such a game.

Weeks later, when you see an article containing the pictures from the family skate event, you click on it and scroll through the various snapshots.

You find yourself smiling at all of the family pictures of Luke’s teammates, enjoying how happy the guys are to have their wives and kids with them on the ice.

Scrolling all the way to the end of the article, you find yourself stopping on a couple pictures in particular, the familiar pit of anxiety forming in your stomach.

The last two pictures in the article are pictures of you and Luke. The first was taken when he was zipping up the jacket he gave you, the two of you looking at each other with so much fondness you could feel the love radiating from the picture.

The second is when you were craning your neck to give Luke a small kiss, the picture captured right before your lips touched, both of you smiling at the other with the same fond look in your eyes.

Your immediate reaction should have been a level three meltdown, your picture out there with Luke, officially, in an ESPN article of all places, but you were surprisingly calm. You should have been screaming and angry, having specifically told the photographer no pictures, but you couldn’t find that anger within yourself.

The pictures showcased yours and Luke’s love for each other so well, you wanted copies of them for yourself. Suddenly you didn’t care if people knew your name, or your face. You could care less if you were front and center on every hockey gossip page in existence.

All you cared about was the amount of happiness you saw on Luke’s face in the pictures, and how deeply you felt about him.

So, when Luke called you an hour later, panicked and telling you he was in the process of getting them taken down, you told him it didn’t matter. They didn’t need to be taken down, because you didn’t care if you had to stand naked in the middle of the rink during puck drop at his next game, you just wanted people to know you loved him with every ounce of your being.

Your aversion to attention be damned, seeing these pictures made you want to scream your love for him from the rooftop of the highest building in Jersey. You were still opposed to the idea of unwanted and unnecessary attention, but decided right here that there would be no more hiding. You were going to be there for Luke in any way he wanted or needed you from here on out. And if you happened to be caught in a few pictures on the way? Well, you guess you’ll just have to get them framed.

[eggroll-sama]

My Opinions if They Existed IRL

Rant of me manifesting the characters in my life and logically seeing and how I would feel of them. Ranting, Leander hate, shenanigans

Leander

Hate Hate HATE-

I've had terrible experiences with Leander's. I'm sorry to all the Leander fans out there, but I can't stand people like him. I relate with Vere on this one. The artificiality is aggravating.

Will make you feel understood and special, but it's just his charm. He gets off on it tbh.

The type to laugh at jokes he doesn't think is funny to feed the person's ego. His laugh is obnoxious (rich person's laugh + loud cuz he thinks louder = more genuine? No lol), too, so everyone turns to him wondering what's making him laugh sm. He's just being fake

Ah, DOES NOT know personal space. Is super touchy even with strangers and pushes their boundaries.

(More under the cut)

People pleaser, people pleaser. The type to not stand up for you when someone talks smack about you behind your back. Instead would give a polite laugh, maybe add his own opinions on you to make the shit-talker feel understood, then would steer the conversation to smthg else. Take that as you will.

Leaves you in the dark on certain things that will make him look bad. More than likely you find out through other ppl which makes you feel betrayed.

Smiles, even when he's pissed off. When you see his mask falter it's like whiplash, makes you wonder if he's ever real w you cuz he doesn't talk about his neg opinions. Only shares altruistic opinions to make himself look better.

Would not communicate when he has problem with you. Instead, he'll give you a look, no smiles, no facade, just hostility. It's annoying when you're the type to talk things out.

Competitive as hell, with friends, too. If he isn't in the center of attention than he'll get very insecure, and would go into pick-me mode so he can get compliments from others

"I'm not as good as ___, haha."

"No way, Leander, you're amazing, be more confident!"

And he will do this RIGHT in front of you, too (Day in the life of Ais dealing with Leander's jealousy)

Likes to play mediator to seem like the bigger person, but still ends up choosing sides. Your actions aren't matching your words fool.

Would also play mediator so he can get more information from both sides. More knowledge = more power = more control

On a positive note, Leander’s are very good at reading your emotions so would be more attentive to your needs. Also open-minded and would be a good companion if you want to have fun. Unfortunately the type to say yes yes to hanging out even when he’s on a tight schedule and get irritated when it wasn’t as exciting, like JUST SAY NO BITCH GAH DAMN. Prioritize urself.

When you start to distance yourself after he treats you like crap, that’s when he starts to correct himself, but it’s too late atp. Would get rlly salty when he sees you hanging out with other ppl feels like he’s being replaced

Would act friendly with you even after you're no longer close but it’s a facade :DD When he's alone he's brooding.

Kuras

Politely distant.

Kuras is the coworker that's been there longer than you have so you admire him from afar, hoping you'd be at his level one day.

Remembers your name even if you talk to him like ONCE, makes you feel special and seen in a non manipulative way.

Would remember certain things abt you that you surprised he remembers like at all.

Has the sexiest ASMR voice. It's the professional type of voice that’s very well-practiced and you just watch him on the phone not fumbling over there words like :0 They make it look so easy

Being friends with him wouldn’t be one-sided. He would plan a catch-up with you grabbing coffee. Would pay for the bill without asking.

He is a dominant person, but is often perceived as submissive bc his courtesy and gentlemanly behavior. No, no, he’s always in control. He just knows that that being kind in the face of conflict makes you the one more in control of the situation. There’s dominance in self-submission

An amazing listener. Has the ability to give advice to you without making you feel defensive on your stance.

Believes in integrity, but wouldn’t condone being “brutally honest.” Don’t weaponize your excuse of “honesty” to be a jerk towards others. Kinda hypocritical bc sometimes he sucks at being tactical with words, but he tries to understand, which is the difference from ppl that feel entitled to state their opinion in a “fighting for dominance” type of way

Stubborn lol. Stubborn in a “my way or the high way” kind of way. Needs to be convinced with logic or wouldn’t budge that his way of doing things is better. Can get tiring convincing them.

Also is very detail-oriented that every little thing needs to be analyzed before he proceeds. If you’re the type to “wing it” like me, it’ll test your patience but also their attention to detail helps out later on. He’ll hit you with the “I told you so” look

Too hard on himself. Would feel bad for being impolite over smthg minor. PLS REINFORCE HIS AWESOMENESS YOURE DOING GREAT OK.

Would remember something he’s done in the past and hate himself, it’s the catholic guilt. He knows there’s no point in remembering but he can’t help but think of how he could’ve handled something better. Overthinker.

Acts like an old man. Likes little peaceful towns with a good suburban vibes. Loves discovering little stores and Knick knacks. Also gives u gifts out of nowhere for keeping him company.

Mhin

I also know a few Mhins but I like them better than Leander’s lmao. Their quietness piques my interest and I find myself wanting to get to know them more, even if it’s one-sided and low-key an interview. They tend to be very interesting people.

If you gain their favor, than they're so caring towards you. Would seek your attention once in a blue moon like a cat. Sometimes it feels like you’re always chasing them, be it through gift-giving, reaching out, etc. Will get repetitive at times.

Their independence is admirable and partially the reason why you seek their presence so often. You don’t want them to feel lonely.

They’re passive aggressive, it’s low-key cute, but also annoying. Just say what you want to say!

They have self-conscious tendencies, be it their looks or their talents. Instead of being an annoying pick-me like Leander, they start to get more frustrated and depressed, unfortunately. Wouldn’t bring it up unless you do.

They’re also popular romantically but they NEVER realize. Tends to get teased often by people crushing on them.

Is so honest. Mhin would tell you straight what they think about you, which sucks if you have a soft-heart.

So honest, borderline an asshole. Ex. You’re losing some hair? They'd point it out. No hesitation. Very embarrassing if you're with your friends. They suck at thinking before they speak.

The type to trauma dump on you. But if they do, you’re lucky bc it means they trust you.

They are naturally attracted to kind, peaceful introverts. Mhin isn't a sociable person, so it would be a whole lot easier for them if you are also not sociable. Craves kindness and peace.

You can appreciate their quietness. They don’t talk, so their words hold more weight. Great at handling kids cuz they are scared of them.

The type to complain about smthg you did but helps you. ACTS OF SERVICE !!

Their laugh is so rare that it makes you surprised and gaping. But you love it whenever it happens.

DONT FORGET TO CALLLLLLL

[generalsdiary]

Ratio and Aventurine are Sherlock and Watson coded but not in the way you think. Where one might assume Ratio would be Sherlock because of his intellect and analytic approach to life and the comments he makes, allow me to switch the perspective. Aventurine is an addict. To what? To feeling like shit and endorsing it, to having low self-esteem, to rejecting everyone in a way so no one gets too close and realizes how vulnerable he is, how much he yearns for love. He hid it away so well that he himself isn’t aware anymore of how much he wants it. to be loved, appreciated, and seen as more than just his luck- much like Ratio wants to be seen for more than just his achievements (poor man ain’t aware of how much he wants it either). Aventurine plays this perfect little role of a charismatic, lucky, fun-to-be-around persona. And that’s all it is, a play, a stage act.

let us switch gears back to Sherlock and John. Sherlock is also an addict, depending on at which point in the timeline, it is nicotine, drugs, crime cases, and similar. Here is where the point lies. Who is the one that pulls Sherlock out of that shit, out of the drug den, to hide his cigarettes away? John. We think Sherlock functions fine… before John, sure. After John, after Mary dies; oh no, Sherlock is not well without him. He can barely function, (yes, Mary’s death comes also in account here, but I won’t get sidetracked), living in a mess, doing drugs again, smoking, treating himself like shit and like he is worthless. So, who reminds Sherlock of his worth, of his genius, of the fact that he is human and not just a performance act that he puts on of deducting others? John. Both Sherlock and Aventurine throw these spectacles, these performances, these acts of a grand image, they play it and they dance to the song that others sing, moving to the melody that strangers decide; playing into whatever image that is painted of them no matter how untrue it is, ex. Aventurine will play a gambling alcoholic as much as you wish although he is more than that, and Sherlock will play the killer, the crazy ‘psychopath’ that kidnapped those kids and poisoned them, and he is also more than that. The difference is that Sherlock performs his knowledge and analytic skills, unlike Aventurine who keeps those cards close to his chest- that is how he survives, that is how he survived, his instinct, his trauma making him aware of a lot of things in his surroundings and aware of everyone else; carefully analyzing everyone to ensure his safety. Aventurine is better with his tongue, knowing what to say and when to say it, with much better people skills- that is what got him this far after all; so, he performs with flashy promises, with fun games- gambling with his own life because what is it worth to him anyway anymore? it circles back to his ‘the only survivor trauma’. Sherlock was ready to gamble his own life (S1E1) and who stopped him? John. Well, more like who saved him. The drug addiction that Sherlock has is a bit downplayed and it always ends fast within the episodes, but in its own way, it is also his gamble, him not valuing his life as much as he should.

yes, in a way Ratio and Aventurine can both be Sherlock. But it is not about Sherlock, as much as it is about Watson. And exactly what Watson brings to the table, to their relationship. In the case of Johnlock, Ratio is very much Watson. The one to tell Aventurine his life matters, the one to go along with his plan of deceiving Sunday- because Aventurine had this great plan, a huge gamble. sound familiar? The usual thing about Sherlock with big plans, ex. exposing Mary after getting shot, going to Magnussen’s to sell Mycroft’s PC. And who follows along even when they don’t agree? John.

to take into account Johnlock in the later episodes/at least the second season, when they are closer- we are brought up to speed on where Aventio are. it is a well known fact that Aventio knew each other before the first scene in the hotel of them interacting. So, they have a history, and their period of getting familiar is over. They know each other. we only see John openly criticizing Sherlock later in the series, be it insulting him or calling him out on his bullshit. The same thing happens with Aventio, where Ratio is the one to openly state his thoughts and criticize. While yes, one may argue that that is in Ratio’s character to behave as such, if we recall the scene between Ratio and the MC, he doesn’t behave that way if unprovoked. And Aventurine wasn’t provoking him, hence the conclusion. As much as Ratio seems like the black sheep here, the odd one out (which he is don’t get me wrong), in this perspective it is Aventurine who is that. and yes, Ratio walks on eggshells around him, apologizing for his harsh words. these two aren’t the perfect puzzle pieces for Johnlock, they do differ in the way they walk in public and who leads the way, and of course the point of this isn’t to make them overlap, but to draw parallels. And while writing this, truly a lot of opposing things came to mind, where both couples differ in such vast ways, all four being complex, rich characters- it pained me that Aventurine and Veritas would be compared to Sherlock and John only in the way that the “genius” matched the “genius”. smh.

Now the way Ratio is Sherlock is very simple, he doesn’t consider himself human- more like, doesn’t allow himself to be human, to feel, to connect, to breathe; when he is too much of a human – and the main reason he wasn’t accepted into the genius society. Poor Ratio, cursed because he wants to help and spread knowledge, what a mean fate struck upon the burned out gifted autistic asexual kid. To switch to Sherlock (also very autistic asexual coded), he is the most human out of them all, (I believe Eurus calls him that but I don’t recall the exact quote, also pointed out by Mrs. Hudson, John, and Mycroft), trying to be this analytical machine when his caring bleeds through his skin, evaporating through his pores, his love for John and so many others making him pull himself apart and do anything to protect them, ex. killing Magnussen, giving himself to Smith to a guaranteed death, faking his own suicide to protect Lestrade, John, and Mrs. Hudson. Sherlock who, much like Ratio, wishes to be strict in his way of life, but cannot help wanting to explain and help others, and Ratio here differs by wanting to help everyone improve while Sherlock is willing to help only after the person has shown some amount of will, intelligence, proved themselves in some way (Irene Adler) or he so rarely happened to like them (ex. the kid that was at Mary’s wedding). Although, their shared way of calling others around them idiots is neat. I’d say this is their main connection and outside of it they are extremely different characters, which is why further comparison is pointless and shallow if you just want to compare characters because they are quote on quote the clever one.

Case in point, Aventurine is Sherlock because Ratio is John, and the one that saves him. The one that grounds him, and Aventurine NEEDS him. He needs Veritas. And Sherlock needs John. Therefore, Aventurine isn’t Sherlock without Ratio, much like there is no Sherlock (be it books, movies, or the show) without John. It is more about the relationships between them than the actual characters, and that, honestly, makes it even more beautiful.

[animeyanderelover]

@lucyrose9820 asked: Kyojuro, Mitsuri, Sanemi, Kaneki, Touka and Sebastian with a darling who has a siamese cat who is a bit aggressive except with the s/o?

Tw: Yandere themes, jealousy, protective behavior,delusional mindset, paranoia, abduction

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @chxxz @leveyani @flaming-vulpix @naeho @kanaosprotector

S/o owns an aggressive Siamese cat

Sebastian Michaelis

🐈‍⬛We all know how Sebastian feels about your little companion who lives in your house. He adores the cat with their gorgeous blue eyes, soft fur and cute paws. The aggression the cat occasionally shows towards him doesn't even face him in the least bit as he annoys your little friend by picking them up, cuddling them and petting their body. He uses your cat as a little excuse to spend more time in your own house and for once he isn't completely deceiving you. Of course he uses your feline as an excuse to spend more time with you by offering to look after them when you have work to do or by helping you when it comes to buying food. The fact remains that Sebastian has a soft spot for cats though so the fact that you own one makes everything even better. He definitely brings cat toys over for your cat and tries to play with your cat they are in the mood for it. He always has a calm smile on his face even when the little one uses their claws on him as seemingly nothing about your cat can anger him. He's even proud about the fact that your cat is never aggressive around you. You really are a natural with cats, aren't you~?

Ken Kaneki

🔲​You've been worried sick for your cat the moment Kaneki abducted you and begged and shouted at him to let them stay with you. Your angry words instantly trigger his paranoia as he hastily apologizes before he scurries away to retrieve your cat for you. When he returns, your cat is busily clawing at him, clearly unhappy as they hiss at the stranger who just took them. With your cat now at least present in your life, you seem to be a bit happier which is better for Kaneki's mental health. Even whilst you are abducted he wants to make you happy and if he can be useful for you by buying all things you need for your gorgeous cat and can additionally make you happy, he definitely latches onto this chance. It's obvious that the cat doesn't like him though as if clearly knowing what he did as he tries to get them to like him at least a bit. You'd like him if your cat would like him after all. So he wastes hours getting scratched before his minor wounds heal all whilst attempting to get your cat to like him. Sometimes he is jealous though when he watches you being all affectionate with your cat. Please give him some pets too.

Touka Kirishima

🟪​As long as your pet isn't a bird because this lady has a confirmed phobia of birds, Touka can accept the fact that you have a cat as your companion. She's never had any pet before in her life so as much as she probably doesn't want to admit it, she has besides some very basic knowledge not much of a clue what a cat probably needs. Honestly, initially she is a bit warily around your Siamese cat because of their more aggressive behavior at times because she is worried that you might get hurt. Touka is a bit overprotective after all despite her not willing to admit this so easily so she'd be pretty pissed if your cat were to hurt you due to their slightly more aggressive personality. She slowly drops her more cautious behavior when she realises that your cat is a ball of fur and sweetness around you though. She doesn't mind if the cat stays in her apartment for a short amount of time but she isn't willing to keep your little friend for longer periods of time with her just yet because she doesn't want them to scratch at her furniture. Also, your cat should ever be brought to Anteiku she will keep a close eye on them so that they don't accidentally find the unofficial pet of her workplace, the bird Hetare.

Rengoku Kyojuro

🔥​His reaction is all benign when he gets to hear that you are raising a pretty feline within your home. As your lover he obviously sees it as his duties to also look after your pet too and he stomps into this new duty he assigned to himself with unmatched enthusiasm. Sometimes it is honestly a bit painful to watch Rengoku because he is so set on getting the cat to like him that he tends to ignore the signs of the animal that they are uncomfortable and feel threatened yet he keeps that smile on his face even if your little friends swats after him with their claws. Honestly, his straightforward actions when it comes to your cat really remind you of how he went on about courting you. You're always feeling a bit guilty though when your cat gets aggressive ans scratches him but he laughs it off and reassures you that it isn't bad. You have a fierce, little friend with you. Now, obviously it would be different if it wouldn't be him getting all scratched up but you in which case Kyojuro would be very set on removing the cat from your home. He wouldn't allow you to keep someone close who hurts you in any way after all.

Kanroji Mitsuri

💓​She is squealing the first time you bring her home and she sees your pet. They're so cute! Can she cuddle with them? Mitsuri adores your cat because they are so adorable and fluffy and she just wants to pet them all day. Mitsuri isn't really scared of your Siamese cat and their slightly more aggressive behavior but she definitely feels sadder over time. Your cat seems to be quite attached to you but her attempts to pet your cat or get closer to them don't really seem to work. Is she doing something wrong? She just wants your cat to like her too because they are precious to you yet nothing she does helps her. She's acting sillily sad, especially when your cat hisses at her and tells her clearly that they don't appreciate Mitsuri gushing over them and trying to touch them. She never hates your cat for their behavior though because she can see how much you love your pet and how much they appreciate you in return too. The only thing she is a tad bit worried about is their occasional aggressive personality. She wouldn't want others or you to get hurt because of this slight aggression your cat sometimes shows.

Shinazugawa Sanemi

🌪️​Is it silly to get in constant fights with your cat? Because if it is, prepare for the pettiest scene you could have in your house as the Wind Hashira constantly bickers with your pet. Sanemi is already a pretty aggressive individual to the people around you yet this apparently even extends to your freaking cat! They don't like him and they make that pretty obvious and Sanemi in return dislikes them equally as much. He could swear that this thing is giving him some attitude and he does not appreciate it as it constantly claws at him or meows loudly if he tries to be affectionate in front of you. Sometimes he seems to realise how ridiculous he is behaving by cussing and insulting an animal who just gives him a bored look in return before it walks over to you for cuddles. Worst is that sometimes you refer to Sanemi as your cat in human form since both share some aggressive traits. Not only is he worried about you mentioning your cat's aggressive traits but also somewhat humiliated that you actually compare him to your cat. He tries his best to not lash out with your cat when you're around as he just gives them a silent death stare as they hiss at him and show their teeth.

[143folium]

Random Thought About Debilitated Planets in Vedic Astrology (Pt. 1)

Sometimes, I wonder how just because a planet is debilitated, it's already bad. Sure there will always be that argument that said planet cannot perform due to being uncomfortable or outside of comfort zone... But if we use that argument to prove otherwise, it can make sense how debilitated planets might actually turn out good. ESPECIALLY if your eyeing to move abroad and have foreign settlement.

DISCLAIMER: I am not a professional astrologer, moreso in Vedic, nor am I knowledgeable about Hindu contexts. So please take what I say with a grain of salt. Any feedback will be appreciated since I'm also learning Vedic.

So to continue, 4th house is said to be the house of comforts. If we use the argument for debilitation, it should imply the opposite of 4th house. I wouldn't mean the 10th house, but the signification of comfort which is discomfort. But 4th house also belongs to homeland, and opposite to homeland is foreign lands.

Another thing is that foreign lands is signified by the 12th house. 12th house is also the house of loss, and guess what...? Debilitation is the loss of strength of a planet, or is it?

My point is, planets don't necessarily lose its overall strength, but like the comfort argument, it just feels out of zone. But if you actually dabble on the "discomfort", you might actually end up strengthening that debilitated planet for good.

Discomfort here could mean, doing the things that are the opposite to your planetary significations OR embodying that planet's energy OUTSIDE your comfort place. Let's go through each planets.

Debilitated Sun (in Libra)

What I often hear about debilitated Sun is that "you put the king in the marketplace" and that "the king is uncomfortable in dealing with the common people". Libra represents market and the masses, but with Sun being in this sign, it can actually give one the potential to be an exemplary leader who people can easily connect to. You can also see it in a way that it helps you turn down your ego. Compromising here and being fair and diplomatic can actually make you more respected and famous (as the usual Sun functions).

It can also be taken as being a conventional leader, charismatic person, or main person AWAY from your homeland. You could actually be more egoistic (for good) in foreign lands.

Debilitated Moon (in Scorpio)

Ah, yes, when emotions are too much that it constricts you and prevents you to breathe... except that this can actually make you a genuine person in the realm of emotions. Okay, sure, Scorpio is also associated with secrecy, and it makes Moon very very suppressed. But Moon is not only just emotions, but also psyche. In one's psyche, the shadow is always there and the Moon is no stranger to shadows and darkness since it rises at night where it illuminates the sky. This can make one have a very strong intuition and makes one more equipped in psychologically transcending themselves. Without intensity and secrets, one cannot easily unearth the subconscious and even conscious matters.

It can also be taken as having a more evolved psyche and better emotional regulation/mental health and more abundant comforts when AWAY from homeland.

Debilitated Mars (in Cancer)

THIS. Is quite a poetic debilitated planet. So Mars is the soldier, it's all about fighting. But the thing is, you can't really make the home (Cancer) a battlefield. Now there's a beautiful quote/question that could present as a beautiful argument to this, "Would you rather be a warrior in the garden or a gardener in a war?" What many people get wrong about nurturing is that it's about the gentle/soft/maternal energy, but you can nurture anyone by being strongheaded and a fighter. I don't mean this in a way that you nurture people by being an abusive warfreak, heck no. What this can show is that, it makes one "okay" with channeling their anger for the sake of standing up for themselves and those who they consider "family". There are many parents who demonize anger and confrontation, but one can never know peace without knowing conflict and how to fight for oneself. This can make one a solid protector.

It can also be taken as you being more assertive, ambitious, willing to stand up for self and others when AWAY from homeland.

There are more planets, but I think this is what I can write for now. I'll make parts 2 (or more, depends).

Enjoy!

[live-laugh-legolas]

I was reading this post by @just-a-little-cellist and I was inspired to do something similar but with the fellowship

I’ve done a few more specific mental health hc’s but this is just their general relationship with mental health as opposed to how they handle others with something specific if that makes sense

Also I’m not trying to diagnose any characters; you shouldn’t make assumptions about others, these are just my hcs for some version of the characters, whether canon or not, we will never know

The Fellowship and mental health

Aragorn:

-He is very knowledgeable about different mental health disorders

-Very quick to pick up on it

-I don’t imagine him having any personal experience with any of it though

-I could imagine him having ADHD as a kid and although it doesn’t just go away he has learned to mask it incredibly well

-He has mixed thoughts on medication; he’s not against it but he personally won’t take anything

Legolas:

-I think elves are a split bunch

-Their knowledge of mental health is scattered

-Elves are not shy with feelings but I don’t imagine them having many problems when not in a time of grief

-And I think Legolas was especially sheltered from any mental health discussions

-Maybe the woodland elves are less open to the idea since I think Elrond knows everything about mental disorders

-A cultural difference I suppose

-He loves learning though so he will ask lots of questions

Gimli:

-Dwarves are not strangers to troubled mental health

-They are openly emotional and expressive

-But they don’t put names to it; the idea of disorders is not in their nature

-Like they will openly discuss having trouble but don’t tell them they have depression or something

Boromir:

-I could totally see him having anxiety that he’s learned to suppress because his father is a dickhead

-He knows about the more common disorders and is very supportive

-He doesn’t always understand and sometimes he accidentally comes across as dismissive

-I’ve mentioned before that I kinda picture him to be similar to Arthur from BBC’s Merlin (but when he learns to be a bit nicer lol)

-He’s trying his best; he needs a little patience to learn is all

Frodo:

-He reads a lot so I don’t think he’s any stranger

-I think PTSD from the events in LOTR is the first time personally experiencing neurodivergence though

-Bilbo’s definitely got a pinch of something but I couldn’t tell you what

-So he doesn’t really question anyone; he’s kinda like “well, if I meet someone quirkier than my uncle it will be a wondrous day”

Sam:

-I think he’s pretty naive to mental disorders

-Not because he doesn’t want to learn; but he just doesn’t know better

-He may be a bit judgmental at first

-Like I could imagine him making a comment like “what’s up with them?” kind of thing

-But he truly doesn’t mean to be offensive

-He doesn’t branch out much from the people and things he knows so anything new is strange

-But he will be so supportive and will never live down his own regret for saying something even slightly offensive

Merry:

-He knows every disorder, every sign and symptom, and everything to actually have the disorder

-Like this guy has read every version of the DSM

-He finds it fascinating how people’s brains work so differently

-He totally thinks he can diagnose people though; which isn’t great Merry

Pippin:

-Literally doesn’t care

-And I mean he doesn’t judge and it doesn’t change how he thinks of someone

-It’s just kinda like “yeah they do that sometimes; it’s part of their charm”

-Will stim with someone absentmindedly; he is just inherently a copy cat

Gandalf:

-Obviously he knows all the shit and doesn’t discriminate against anyone

-Violently protective if someone makes an inconsiderate, presumptuous, or offensive comment

-Gives kind advice if someone is struggling; but he won’t be overbearing or draw a lot of attention to it

-Ik for some people it is part of their identity and he respects that, but he isn’t going to make jokes or anything (like example: a majority of my friends, which isn’t a lot tbh, are autistic and I joke with them that clearly I have ✨a type✨)

———————————————————————

I personally have my own struggles and experience with my own mental health but I am not the most educated despite this. I know my own diagnoses pretty well but it’s only a small amount compared to the vast number of different disorders.

If anything in here is written in a way that is offensive please let me know; I try my best but it’s entirely possible I am blinded to certain things

Anyway love everyone and I hope you all are doing well :)

[srhunt]

Resident Evil 4: Who is the Merchant?

One of my favorite characters in Resident Evil 4 is the Merchant. From his shady design to him asking “what’re ya buyin?”, he’s just a fun and interesting character. He’s not very fleshed out, we hardly know anything about him. But seeing that blue/purple flame is always a comfort knowing that the Merchant will offer me a safe space to catch my breath.

As with any character shrouded in mystery, lots of people like to theorize about who the Merchant is. Some of these theories are better than others, so I wanna do a quick speed run of a few I’ve heard and then offer my own.

He’s Luis’ Grandfather: Probably the most outlandish one I’ve heard. No matter which version of RE4 you look at, both state that Luis’ grandfather is dead. Unless y’all are suggesting that he’s the ghost of Luis’ grandfather which would explain how he moves so quickly from spot to spot.

He’s a Ganado: This one I sort of believe a bit more than the first one. Evidence that he might be a Ganado is that at different points of OG RE4, his eyes randomly start glowing red. It’s really creepy if you don’t expect it. At night, the Ganados eyes also glow red. But I feel like the remake disproves this idea with the use of the blue flames. The blue flames have the power to freeze plaga, as seen with the Armadura (the Knights). The Merchant has always had a blue flame near him. The remake changes his main flames to purple, but he still has a blue flame lantern on his table. I feel like he uses that as protection from las Plagas.

Now onto my own theory;

The Merchant is a rebel against Los Illuminados.

Not in the sense that he’s gonna sneak in to kill Saddler himself, but in the sense that he only deals weapons to people who are also against the Illuminados.

The Merchant, though very knowledgeable on weapons, is not much of a fighter. If you bring any enemies near him, he will throw his hands up in a defensive position and won’t talk to you until they’re gone. Why doesn’t he pull out one of his various guns to help Leon? Because that’s not how he rolls. He’s more like the Q to Leon’s Bond.

The remake doesn’t offer a ton of new info on the Merchant, but it does give us some insight on how he feels about the Illuminados through his requests.

In his request fliers, he describes Los Illuminados as “religious lunatics”, an “evil” and “blasted cult”. He calls the blue medallions “wretched things” and wants them gone. He deems anyone who joins the cult as “traitors”.

More evidence that he’s against the Illuminados comes from something he says right before you fight the final boss.

“I can hardly contain myself! You're really gonna do it, stranger!”

He’s giddy over the fact you’re about to go kill Saddler and destroy the cult once and for all.

Even going back to the original, his shooting gallery featured Ganados as targets. It’s not that strong of evidence, but it’s worth noting.

He specifically has a hatred for Ramón, the one who single handedly ruined the efforts of generations of Salazars to keep las Plagas sealed underground. In his request called “The Disgrace of the Salazar Family”, he calls Ramón “detestable” and wants the portrait of him in the throne room defaced. You can’t damage this portrait with any weapons, so you chuck an egg at it. It’s a very small act of petty revenge, but it’s one that hits Ramón where it hurts. Ramón has a very fragile ego, getting violent towards anyone who mocks him. So someone coming in and smashing an egg onto his portrait is bound to make him furious. This hatred is even present in the original game as the Merchant has a target of Ramón in his shooting gallery, and you get the most points for destroying it.

Some people say that the Merchant is only looking out for himself and will sell to anyone, hinting that he might’ve sold the Illuminados RPGs and other weapons towards the end of the game. But I think it’s safe to say that based on how he talks about them in his requests that he would not do business with anyone associated with the Illuminados. (It’s probably why we never see him do business with Luis. Even though he no longer works for the Illuminados, he did at one point and the Merchant can’t trust him.)

In fact, I believe that they didn’t get the weapons from him, but that he got the weapons from them. What better way to fight the Illuminados than to steal their weapons and sell them to people willing to use those weapons against them?

“Why doesn’t he just give you the weapons for free then?” He’s still a merchant. Man’s gotta make a living. When 99% of the folks around you work for the enemy, it doesn’t leave a ton of people to do business with. Leon and Ada are probably the only sane customers he’s seen in a long time.

Another thing we can pick up on is that the Merchant might not be working alone. A few of his lines include the words, “we” and “our”.

"We've been saving that one for the right customer!"

"We're starting to get an idea of your tastes, friend."

“You've exhausted our normal range of services for this weapon.”

I don’t believe he’s using it in the royal way, because he uses those words sparingly. He still uses “I” and “me” when talking about himself. So it’s possible that he does have other people working with him. Maybe they’re the ones who take the weapons from the Illuminados. If the Merchant isn’t much of a fighter, he’d be the wrong person to send into the lion’s den to steal weapons. What if he got caught? So it’s possible that he has a network of spies who confiscate weapons from the Illuminados and bring them back to the Merchant to sell to other rebels.

In the Grave Robber request, the Merchant calls the twins “traitors” for joining the cult. Is it possible that these twins were once part of the Merchant’s network of rebels but then either got caught and infected with the plaga or converted of their own free will?

Another piece of evidence that the Merchant isn’t working alone comes from Resident Evil Village. The Duke, the merchant of that game, quotes the RE4 Merchant;

“What're ya buyin?—Haha, just something an old friend of mine used to say."

An “old friend”, he says. Could it be that the Duke and the Merchant worked together to undermine the Illuminados, eventually parting ways after Saddler’s defeat?

So the TL;DR is that I believe the Merchant is a part of a resistance against Los Illuminados. He has a burning hatred for the cult and anyone associated with it. He is not much of a fighter, so he does what he’s best at; BUSINESS!! He gets his wares from allies who steal from the Illuminados’ supply, which is how he met the Duke. Once he has the merchandise, he sells them to people who are also against the Illuminados. He even sets up a free shooting gallery so that his customers can practice their aim. What good is it to sell guns to folks with terrible aim, right? After Saddler’s defeat, the resistance disbanded, and the Merchant returns home.

But hey, that’s just a theory. 😉

[castlebyersafterdark]

Hello babes ❤️😊 I often journal about my day to day, and do a lot of write-ups about major events, things weighing on my mind, or retrospectives. The turning of the New Year is as good an event as any to write and reflect, so I'm posting a CastleByersAfterDark themed journal online to my dear blog to start off 2025. Thoughts, thanks, and resolutions/goals:

FANDOM

The last year has been such a game changer. I wasn't having very much fun online anymore which was bothersome for me, since fandom and nerding out over stuff I'm into has been one of main hobbies since I was really young. I still was massively invested in Stranger Things but felt stagnant and burnt out as all I was doing was scrolling and reading and was kinda bored. Found a few blogs on the "spicy" side and the gossip side and lurked with intrigue and envy. Tired of watching and never interacting, I created The Castle and joined all the fine folks I admired. My maelstrom of an imagination finally had a place to process and settle again.

This blog took on a life of its own - where I thought I would use it to simply track ideas for wips and maybe converse with other writers, I never anticipated this interactive space where we can all hang out and chat and share secrets and be totally open at our pseudo, perpetual sleepover online with friends both named and anonymous, from all over the globe. The content might get strange or emotional or filthy or silly here, but I never feel alone in letting my nerdom or freak flag fly and I hope many of you feel the love I certainly feel here and enjoy joining in and doing the same. Fandom feels a lot different than it did when I was thirteen years old, but this corner of the fandom has captured that old school magic. Creativity and freedom and connection.

In 2025, I look forward to this wonderful show we love airing and getting to experience the final season after immense anticipation. I eagerly await watching our beloved Will and Mike play out their beautiful storyline on screen. I am excited for all of the mysteries to unravel and finally be understood and to discover which theories were correct and what none of us could have predicted. I'm anticipatory about seeing a slow burn romance play out and pay off between two boys in an unexpected era and to feel joy and catharsis from a storyline I did not expect in a mainstream show. I look forward to the fun and peace to follow once the truth is finally known without a shred of doubt. I don't plan on going anywhere. Going to be a long year. And nebulous time after. Looking forward to continuing to theorize and draft ideas and hear visions and gab about the actors and Byler. I have so many stories to post. Incredibly happy to be here hanging out with yall. ❤️🫂🫶

REALITY

Something... major... happened to me this past year. Hmm. Wonder what that was? Oh, right. That man of mine decided I'm ok enough and put a ring on it. Hahaha I kid, you all know by now that we are madly in love 😉 2025 I will be married! Gosh. It's been months. Still cannot believe.

We're getting married in the summer and I'm also leaving the country for the first time for our honeymoon. Excited, nervous, filled with joyous anticipation. I always wanted to be someone's boyfriend - check. Found my absolute perfect person and we've helped each other become better people and be the best versions of ourselves. Soon, I will be and have a husband which is the most surreal thing, to have each found our The One, our soulmate. Mentally, I'm telling teenage me "you'll never believe what happens - everything you dream about comes true. Hold on for me, bud." 💙💙

RESOLUTIONS/GOALS

Write more. FINISH writing projects. Stay creative. Practice practice practice art. Continue to strive to be kind. And be kinder to myself. Be more present in real life and ensure time spent on hobbies is time spent worthwhile. Have fun and stay out of discourse. Never stop learning and enjoying the pursuit of knowledge.

Follow the colors as mantra. 🏳️‍🌈 Sex 💗 life ❤️ healing 🧡 sunlight 💛 nature 💚magic and art 💙 serenity 💜 spirit 💖 PEACE AND LOVE TO ALL FOR 2025 😘😘😘

[gin-juice-tonic]

I've been thinking a lot about gender identity and stuff lately, but to my shame I’m not the most educated person when it comes to lgbt related stuff. Every time I try to search it to learn more I end up freaking out and clearing my browsing history because of the feeling of being watched. I know I’m being unreasonable, but it’s stronger than me. I don’t have anyone to ask about this kind of stuff. Everyone around me is negative about lgbt, I grew up among this negativity. I’m afraid to ask my online friends because I don’t want to seem ignorant or stupid. What have I decided to do? Send an anonymous ask to a stranger about my concerns (sorry about that), whose blog helped me to accept the fact that I might not be who I though I was at the first place. It feels more safe. Back to the point.

As a teen I used she/they pronouns and a different gender-neutral name online for years. I still do it as an adult and now I realise that “she” was more like a compromise for me because it was what I used to be referred as for my whole life, but didn’t feel quite comfortable with. So it’s they/them for me, I guess. Okay. I’ve always preferred to not be related to any gender, but now I see that there’s more to it. I might be a nonbinary, but what if I’m actually an agender? I also consider the possibility of being a genderfluid because one moment I wear a dress and think that it looks good, and the other moment I cry in front of a mirror because of the idea of wearing it. So yeah, it depends on my mood. I don’t know how it works. I’m just so confused. The only thing I know that I’m not comfortable with being referred to as a female anymore. I’ve never really been.

Admittedly, as someone who is binary trans, I do not have a lot of knowledge in this area. I do know what it’s like to not know what you’re “supposed to be” though. And I know it can be frustrating and scary to be lost in trying to figure out your own identity. 

I asked some of my friends, who are nonbinary and genderfluid themselves, and the first thing we all have to say is you should allow yourself more kindness. I am sorry that you grew up around so much negativity. But I want you to know that it’s both okay to feel afraid but also okay to not know everything. If a friend is going to treat you badly for asking questions, they’re not a very good friend. 

One of my friends says the part you said about “making compromises” resonated a lot with them a lot, so you aren’t alone there. As for how you feel in a dress, clothes do not equal gender. You can like how you look in a dress without any of it having to do with girl-ishness. I suggest you try to think about why you like it when you do, and why you don’t when you don’t. My friends also suggested trying other clothes you can express yourself with. Think about why you like them, or why you don’t like them. (Of course, sometimes the answer has nothing to do with gender. I like athletic clothing because they make me look sporty, which is a neutral thing. But it’s good to know what parts aren’t related to gender at all too.) That extends beyond clothes too, any part of your presentation that you think you can play with without getting yourself into danger, you should. 

It’s tempting to feel like you have to scramble to figure out a label. Especially when advice and other people you can talk to can feel sort of “grouped” under them. And there’s a lot of knowledge to be gained that way for sure. But there’s a lot of knowledge to be gained just in figuring out what you do and don’t like. What makes you feel bad, what makes you feel at ease, what makes you super excited. You‘ve got it nailed down that you don’t like being called a female, that’s not a bad start! 

If your friends are people you think are good and kind, I would suggest reaching out to them so that you can explore things a little more with them, considering they know you better than I would. I know it's scary, but there's nothing wrong with not knowing things, and I hope they'd be aware of that too. And even if you call yourself something now and explore more into it, there's no harm if in the future it doesn't fit so good. There's no wrong way to be a gender, and more importantly there's no wrong way to be you.

[csuitebitches]

I really enjoy your blog and was wondering if you have advice on one of my biggest mental blocks. I'm 23 but struggle to feel like an adult and being independent deeply scares me even through I want to be "chasing my dreams". I've lived with my close knit family my whole life and still spend a lot of time with my parents. I'm almost going to move away(in the next year) and so I've began the process of getting a car/saving money, etc. But then I find myself subtly sabotaging these efforts because the idea of being alone/moving away also terrifies me. I really want to experience moving to a city and working and traveling and doing things I want and at this point I'm finding it draining being my parents "stay-at-home-daughter". But I also get anxiously sick when I try a push myself for more independence. I've put so much on hold going through school and then living in my home town w. parents and it's kind of scary to imagine dating (never prioritized men + parents didn't let me date in highschool= never had a bf or anything) or living alone even though I'd love to have the experience. Any advice would be greatly appreciated. Basically I still feel like a 15 year old when it comes to my personal life and that feels a bit shameful.

I want to tell you that we all feel what you feel. You’ll only ever feel like an adult when you’ve exposed yourself to the outside world, regardless of whether you can handle it or not.

independence scares you because it’s unfamiliar territory. Often when we look at people who are independent and on their own two feet, they seem to have a sense of self identity, purpose and responsibilities to handle.

I’m always in favour of people moving out of their parents homes for a couple of years at least (the culture where I come from also emphasises on the whole family living together and there’s no move out at the age of 18 concept) because I see the pros and cons of both situations of living in/ out of your parents home.

No book, YouTube video, friends’ experiences will teach you about being an adult. You have to step out and experience it yourself.

Start doing exposure therapy. Basically, slowly, bit by bit, immerse yourself into the traditional adult experiences.

I’ll give you examples. Understand fully how your insurance works. Keep all your medical records in both a physical and a digital file.

Understand how your car functions as a product - which means guarantees, warranties, insurance, emergency numbers, mechanics nearby, etc.

Start tracking all your spending expenses, even if you’re using your parents money at the moment. The earlier you start this habit, the better. Create a monthly budget for yourself and stick to it.

Start doing your own laundry in the house and learn that not all clothes go in the washing machine, some go for dry cleaning etc.

Make it a goal to learn to cook at least 5 dishes properly before you leave. If your parents are good cooks, ask them to teach you or go to every introvert’s favourite site, YouTube.

Pretend that your room is a mini apartment and try to keep it clean at all times.

Start socialising more. Not just with known friends. Sign up for a random hobby class like a book club or a running club where you can meet more people. Yes it’ll be difficult, yes you’ll have moments of awkwardness but don’t give up after just one meeting - go and meet new people to get used to the idea of interacting with strangers.

You can’t rush into feeling like an adult. It takes time. Exposure therapy is the best way to get into it. The more responsibility you can healthily shoulder, even if you fail at times, you’ll still start feeling more confident.

We weren’t born with the knowledge of car tire changing mechanics, insurance, cooking or tidying up. We had to learn them as we grew up. It’s perfectly alright to not know how to do something. The beauty of living in today’s world is that the answer to nearly every question is one google search away.

[boomhoon]

LOVE SHHH!

A Jay drabble- inspired by Jo Yuri

Synopsis- You’ve declared love dead in your heart, but an unexpected meeting in the hallway has you head over heels for a man who doesn’t even know your name!

Content- gn reader, implied to be set in a highschool, strangers to ???, fluff, Jay calls reader pretty, one swear word in the first sentence, Jay is in a band (☠️). not proofread, 801 WC.

Love is shit.

It’s pointless. A waste of time. A waste of emotion. And i’m definitely done with it.

My last lover cheated on me with a girl at some random party, and my first love ghosted me without any warning. That one a lot hurt because we were doing so well and I still saw them around town (and because they were my very first). The rest in between have been horrible blurs of toxicity and boredom.

Was love always this bad? No. It used to be magical, something I yearned for. Feeling loved, and loving others is something everyone should experience. But is it all we need? Once again, no! I’m free to love myself, do things how I want to, and enjoy everything by mysel-

“Oh my gosh- I’m so sorry, let me pick these up for you.” I bumped into someone in the hall and ended up slammed against the floor. My books and other school materials were scattered all across. People slowly walked by, and made the awkward move of bending to help but then walking away. I groaned quietly, and started picking them up myself. “It’s okay, I should've paid more attention.” I mumbled.

I looked up and saw a gentle hand extend towards me. I grabbed it, and instead of pulling myself up, another hand gingerly came to my back to help pull me up. That’s when I saw him. He had rose gold specs on, he was dressed better than some runway models, he had on cologne which smelt citrusy, and musky. He had concerned eyes, and a soft smile.

“Are you sure you’re all right? I didn’t mean to hurt you.” The man nervously chuckled as his hands retracted from me. I blinked a few times in awe before responding, “Oh no, i’m not hurt at all! Please, don’t worry about it.”

He raised an eyebrow in suspicion, but nodded his head in understanding. “Okay, I’ll trust you on that.” He bent down to retrieve the last of my items before handing them to me. He stopped once he took notice of a certain item. It was a guitar pick, a miscellaneous object I had left in my pocket. But it happened to catch his interest.

“You play the guitar?” He asked a small smile of intrigue, and he looked up from the pick, his head still tilted downwards.

“Yeah.” I nodded quickly, trying to ignore the way he was looking at me. “The acoustic one.” I clarified.

This man was gorgeous.

He nodded, pulling his fingers away from my stuff, and readjusting his specs carefully. “I do too. I’ve also tried out the electric guitar. “I started last year, and it’s become my new favorite hobby.” He suddenly started speaking at a rapid pace. “Did you know that acoustic guitars date back about 3000, to 3500 years from now? The first guitars are thought to have been found in Spain, but i’ve also seen some sources say they could even be traced back to Mesopotamia! Isn’t that crazy?”

I looked at him with slightly wide eyes. He seemed to have a lot of junky knowledge on things.

Not that I wasn’t interested…

“Oh, I didn’t know that. I’ve never got into the history of guitars before.” I laughed sheepishly.

“I’m still learning the chords, and how to play some songs. I think that’s all the information I can store right now.”

He simply laughed in understanding. “Yeah I get that. I’m probably the odd one for knowing about the history of guitars. My friends say so at least-Damn that guy Sunghoon-,” he muttered the last part to himself.

I smiled to myself.

“Anyway I don’t want to keep you standing here any longer, sorry for bumping into you.” He raised his hand apologetically, and started walking off again. He seemed busy, which would explain why he was in a rush running down the hall.

But midway, he stopped and jogged up to me again.

“This might seem weird, but i’m in a small band. We’re playing in the garage of one of my band mates, and I was wondering— would you want to come and see me play?” He asked, with a lightly scrunched up face, and a tight smile. Almost as if he expected me to say ‘no’.

“Yeah sure.” I said instead.

His face relaxed, and he pulled out a piece of paper and pen from his bag. He wrote a few things down and handed it to me.

“Alright, i’ll see you there! It was nice meeting you…”

I straightened the piece of paper and read its contents.

It contained the address of his band mate’s house, his phone number, and a small message

### ### #### i think you’re pretty, call me - Jay

I hated love, but I fell in love right there.

————————————————————————

taglist: @sanasour @mars101

A/N: IM SORRY THIS WAS SHORT AGAIN 😫 I might continue this because i have some ideas for it, but omg life is tough! Any interaction is appreciated <3

[otori0]

Second chances: A Kijima Matako + Kiheitai Analysis

This will be messy and include spoilers.

Kijima Matako, just like all Gintama characters, isn’t reduced to a single aspect to her character. What makes Gintama women special to me is that they aren’t just shonen women that are used when convenient or left to the side: they all break some kind of stereotype and have life of their own. They all have a soul. (If interested in this topic, there’s this analysis on Gintama women that really stood out to me)

When it comes to Matako, I don’t think this is different, even though her screen time is limited as she’s a side character. Despite her being introduced as a girl who loves Takasugi and shows extreme loyalty to her, this isn’t all there is to her. Not only is she a great fighter and indispensable to the Kiheitai, but her backstory in Silver Soul also shows us more sides of her. In particular, I’ll be discussing episodes 354 and Matako’s last scene in Gintama The Final, as they are the scenes that made me want to write this. Please don’t proceed if you haven’t finished the series. You’ve been warned!

We learn in episode 354 that Matako’s parents both died because of war, trying to protect the country. Because of this, she seeks revenge and asks Takasugi to join him in his goal of destroying the country.

At this moment, Matako is using her parents’ deaths to give herself a purpose. It seems like she’s lost, even though there is certainly disdain and hate for the country inside her, it’s definitely not a decision a person her age would be making in normal circumstances. In the words of Francis Bacon, “A man that studieth revenge, keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal, and do well.” (This also equates to Takasugi saying that the hardest part comes after war, when you’re reduced to just a man and forced to live that way, and Takasugi knows this better than anyone. Seeking revenge and keeping the wounds fresh is a way to run away from this. It also gives a mindless purpose so they don’t have to actually think about what comes after)

Just like Takasugi, losing something gave her a meaning and a goal. This should make them similar, but Takasugi knows it’s not the case, because his revenge isn’t simple revenge— it’s revenge against himself. Matako might not find what she's seeking if she goes with him, and she might just be throwing her life away. Going with Takasugi is the same thing as killing herself, her soul and her goals.

There’s a poetic sadness in the fact that Takasugi eventually died not in the way he’d thought he’d go. He was unable to kill Gintoki, which was the ultimate form of self-harm for him, and he lived an immortal but weakened life for a moment before he died against Gintoki himself. One could say that Takasugi did kill himself as well since he assisted Gintoki in killing Utsuro, but it’s still a death that’s very different from what one would imagine, especially in relation to this scene and Takasugi’s goals.

In the end, however, Gintoki fulfilled his promise and protected Takasugi's soul this way. This is the antagonic nature of Gintoki and Takasugi's characters and how Takasugi's goal was always doomed to fail.

Going back to Matako, because Takasugi gave Matako a second chance, this actually gives her even more motivation to follow his steps. He provided her a motivation aside from revenge.

A lot of Matako's loyalty to the Kiheitai comes from her devotion to Takasugi, but there's also the knowledge she has that the Kiheitai is more noble than it might seem. It saves nobodies, it has the power to protect— she has known Takasugi's kindness from the moment she met him, because he saved her even though they were nearly strangers.

However, ultimately Matako loses Takasugi as well. I've seen some people feel sympathy for her as she has 'lost everything' (at first her parents, then bansai & takasugi), but is this truly the case? I believe The Final proves otherwise.

The end of the movie, through Takasugi, makes the Kiheitai appear more human and follows the parent-child pattern that Gintama has used again and again to show vulnerability and human soul.

There's a lot of debate on what the baby Takasugi actually is, but from my point of view, if it's purposefully left ambiguous it should be ambiguous. That's part of the point of it. It could be reincarnation, it could be a different person, it could be Takasugi's second chance— we will never know, and that's okay.

Still, the topic of second chances is presented thorough the series and this movie is no exception. It's not a coincidence that Matako is the one to do this for Takasugi, to find him.

In this scene, there's a Sakamoto monologue in which he says that ''it's not a miracle for a teacher to save his students, it's just what they do''. I'm not confident in comparing what Takasugi did for Matako to what Shoyo did for his students because obviously it's not the same, but there is a meaning in this shot being shown during this monologue, because the cicle of second chances Matako and Takasugi (especially in regards of baby!Takasugi, since it's the most fantasy-esque aspect of this) is not 'a miracle', but something that had to happen.

Going back to the topic of revenge, Francis Bacon, who has already been mentioned here, made an experiment that actually proved that the people who had the chance of acting on their revenge had a harder time moving on from things and suffered more, because it prolongs that experience (more on this here). In this way, Gintoki who moved on the best he could from the past is a happier person than Takasugi. In the same way, I believe that Takasugi giving the Kiheitai a new goal to fight for in Soul Silver arc did this for Matako (although she wasn’t as deep into revenge as other characters, and it had already become something secondary for her). Especially when taking into consideration that Takasugi knew he’d die, or at the very least that his goals weren't leading him to anywhere good, it’s not unthinkable to believe that he was trying to give the Kiheitai something else for when he was gone. In a sense, Takasugi gave them what he learned from Gintoki but was too far gone to apply to himself. (Just like he gave the Kiheitai a place to belong) It's very much like Takasugi to take in all the pain to himself but never impose his own mentality into others.

After Takasugi died, it wouldn't be strange for the rest of the Kiheitai to grow apart from each other, to abandon that role and go on living normal lives, pursuing new goals. However, because of this new goal Takasugi has given them through the act of dying, Henpeita and Matako can redeem themselves, 'atone for their sins' as Henpeita words it. In a sense, had Takasugi survived, this might have been impossible.

Because Takasugi gave Matako a second chance and new reasons to fight, Matako could develop and grow into a person who in return gave Takasugi a second chance, enveloping him (physically) and I assume taking care of that baby in the future. Matako’s kindness is reflective of Takasugi’s own. In this way, although she believes herself to have been unable to save Takasugi during his life and bring back his smile, Matako also took an important part in preserving his soul.

At the end of Takasugi's road he found Gintoki, who had given him a part of his soul, and at the end of Matako's road she found Takasugi, who had given her a part of his (shown in their last scenes respectively). This becomes Matako's soul, turning her into a compassionate person who cares about Takasugi from the bottom of her heart, which gives her a chance to take action and abandon the revenge she initially sought.

Feel free to add anything to this, I have finished Gintama pretty recently so I'm sure there's people who have a better grasp and wording than myself. I might also edit this someday.

I hope this was an interesting read!

EDIT: In a sense, Bansai being the one to die first (not counting Nizou since he didn't have the same attachment to Takasugi and the others as the rest of the Kiheitai), in a sense, is a way to show that he has already found a purpose back then, while the other two still need a new purpose, which Takasugi gives them in SS. Bansai already knew Takasugi's soul and decided to die for him. The rest, however, had to live on to atone and carry that soul.

[myshiptrashcan]

Director's cut of ⭐At His Side⭐ plleeaaasseee

I love how flushed out this au is. Which always begs the question, is there anything you wanted to add in and didnt get the chance? Or anything that you unfortunately had to cut bc it didnt fit?

Hmmm. I did think about what the main story would be like if they were wing people. If they fell in the earth, then why not fly out? I figured the battle would keep one from flying not wanting their wings to get shot.

Like Merwin getting stuck in the wire and his wings are fucked. Keeping most of the characters grounded is causing me to really think. Like when Rachel fell why not fly? Were her wings slightly hurt causing Eric and her to use climbing gear instead. Obviously they need space for their wings to fly as well.

I did want to talk about Zain and Jason relating to each other more on how they feel about their wings and their parents . But instead I only made it a conversation they had that Salim heard as he woke up in little pieces. How Zain hates that he looks like his mother, his face and his wings and wishing with all of him to be like his father that he just adores. And if course Jason pointing out just how much alike Zain is to his father.

Sometimes it feels like they don't even have wings in this story. I honestly would have liked to draw better things for the story just to flesh everything out more. This world is built mostly the same as our own. I did mention things like proper baths and beds are something you have to pay more for. Bird baths and nests.

I actually added a few things to the story than I had intended. Like Jason being a Star trek fan. Which I have a wing au for as well lol.

I did want some kind of interaction between other strangers, them looking at Jason and Salim and perhaps causing some sort of trouble.

I did do more research than what was necessary for a fanfiction. Hours worth of studying for like a paragraph of words.

Also while Jason's military contract is probably the second shortest you can pick, he does have to go into base. Not sure if marines have drill, as my knowledge comes from my mom being in the Army national guard. But light military work is something Jason still has to do. Also also, maybe one or both of them finding a kind of job to do. Not wanting idle hands.

Wish I would have mentioned their nightmares a little more. It's the reason they're sleeping in the same bed together after all. Idk.

I didn't really want their relationship to be so focused on physical attraction but I did put some in there a little bit. Wanted to make their love feel a little deeper.

Jason has more stuff going on internally in ways of conflict and misbeliefs, while Salim's has more to do with perceived rejection of love while at the same time dealing with the trauma and shame of having his wings forceful clipped on top of the shared trauma of the temple.

Zain felt like a fun character to write for the first time, considering how little we know of him in game. I had hoped to get across how much he connected Jason with his mom. Even though he knew that Jason was not in fact his mother. Human brains are funny like that.

I do think Jason's father was interesting for me. Because while at first Jason saw only the bad, Jason's father did have many moments in his life where they actually cared and loved each other. Jason having happy memories with someone who at the same time hurt him so much is interesting to me. Idk. For as much as Jason resents his father he still loves him and still has this need for his approval, idk.

Oh and how I wanted to call Nick, Eric and Rachels new relationship the three kings even though I don't think they all can marry. Them three were all dating for sure. I did keep Rachel a bitch though in this. So she didn't really care for Salim in this story. Eric being a romantic legit thought that Jason and Salim were a thing and because he wanted them to succeed he did try his best to help Salim out too.

Jason's friends legit thought that they were a bonded pair. And although Salim didn't really lie about Habibi, Jason eventually used it as a affectionate term on his own. Which is how the word is used anyway. He felt like it was his little cheat at calling Salim darlin'. Which is funny because he was.

As it is. I always actually quite satisfied with the story and for the most part wrote everything that needed to be written. But I think that's all, at least all I can think of at the moment.

Thank you for the ask!!!