#you'd still be able to follow the meaning from context anyway

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

that thing she does when shes like "it's like cars. wait you dont have cars. like horses then" the doctor should do that more often but with things that are alien to the modern day viewer. making comparisons to things from 2078 and getting blank stares and going "wait. too early. uhhhh" and then making a modern comparison. or then making a comparison thats a couple of years out of date like first they make a reference to something 2078 and ruby goes "what" and then they go "i mean ipod" and ruby goes "what" and they go "oh forget it this is taking more time than if i just described it"

[thewiz9062]

Smiling Critters AU: Familial Relationships & Friendship Status Headcanons

NOTE: THIS IS NOT RELATED TO CANON IN THE SLIGHTEST. An accurate description of this au is that I took every playtime.co poster art and promotional material from the game and lit up the rest of canon in a bonfire. That means EVERY character is part of one big cartoon. That's it. No bigger bodies project, no child souls, no experiments, just a depiction of a cartoon. PLEASE do not ask me to do anything suggestive with anyone.

OK I'm jumping straight under the cut, these are pretty long so be warned

Bubba's relationship with his parents is pretty good. The only reason I say "pretty" is because he feels like they "undermine his intelligence." In reality, he just wants to help them. In his younger years, he accessed the internet pretty easily and used context clues to figure out that with all the factors of an adult life, they weren't doing so well financially. But he saw a solution: a lot of people who have easy lives have a good education. So, he got to work, teaching himself anything and everything. He even (somewhat legally) got multiple jobs, ranging from tutoring to coding and other similar occupations. He hid these from his parents for a suprise. (This is when he was about 8, but my timeline is weird rn) anyways, he in total made a LOT more money than any child should have. Eventually, he told his parents and told them about his entire plan to help them. They exchanged a few words between each other and turned back to Bubba. They told him that they were very proud of him, but he shouldn't have to worry about things like that at his age. He understood because he knows that a lot of kids his age don't know a quarter of the stuff he does, but he also felt betrayed. As if they think he doesn't really know anything. In reality, they just want him to be able to live a life without their own issues, dragging him down. But they still are a happy family. There are just a few misunderstandings. Moving on, he still kept those jobs to the present day, meaning he's (for lack of a better term) loaded. In terms of the friend group, he is the one to give out life advice and such. He also funds their more expensive outings. If bobby is the "mom friend," Bubba is the "dad friend." Speaking of which, Bobby is his closest friend outside of Kickin. They both care for their friends and family, even though they do in different ways. He's still in good light with everyone else, though.

Kickin has fairly normal parents. They were a bit concerned with his behavior shift, but after meeting Bubba and his family, they were able to see him truly happy again. They care about him, like parents do. In regards to the friend group, Bubba and him are attached at the hip. If you were to invite one, you'd get the other. Package deal. This made and broke a lot of parties or outings with their peers, but with the critters they're both welcome anytime. Outside of Bubba, Hoppy is his closest friend, Dogday coming at a close second.

Hoppy's parents are her biggest inspiration. Athletes, just like she wants to be. They're pretty chill with each other, and they support her dreams. With the friend group, kickin is her best friend, but bobby is cool to her as well.

Crafty's parents are total assholes. I've gone over her parents before, but to give a brief summary, crafty wants to be an artist because she genuinely enjoys it, but her mother wants her to follow in her footsteps and be a model, simply because their rarity as unicorns. Her father knows, but doesn't care what she does either way. He's off defending people in court most of the time, and it was an arranged marriage anyway, just to keep the line going. (Not incredibly proud of this one, but it'll do). Whenever she wants to hang out with the friend group, she usually appears in far too expensive clothes for the activity, but Bobby's usually prepared and brings some clothing that Crafty feels comfortable in. She's closest to Dogday, him being the one to help her make friends in the first place and give her the motivation needed to be proud of her art.

Bobby's parental situation is bittersweet. She's the only critter with siblings, and regularly has to watch them because she has a working father, and her mother divorced him and didn't get custody. She is understanding and is more than happy to help, much to her father's regret, him having wanted her to have a normal childhood. (See why her and Bubba get along?) This led to her being essentially their mother. She wasn't exactly alone in this, as Picky Piggy was a huge help in some departments. Eventually, her father started earning enough to pay for a babysitter, allowing Bobby to be normal. But old habits are hard to shake. In the friend group, she is undeniably the mom friend. Other than picky (which she knew before joining the critters), Bubba is who she's closest to, for sharing the same goals: to help. Dogday makes ideas and plans, but bobby and Bubba make sure they go flawlessly.

Picky is also pretty normal. She has parents that support her culinary arts and had a few friends before joining the critters, including Bobby. Her knowing bobby immediately places her as Picky's closest friend, but she's fairly indiscriminate to everyone.

Another one I've gone over before: Catnap lost his parents at 4 (cause of bye-bye still pending and I honestly need help) and has lived on his own ever since. He's not COMPLETELY parentless, though, even though he'd never admit it. Although he never shows it like ever, he appreciates boxy boo just stopping by to check on him. In terms of friends, he's not actually an official member yet, but Dogday, Bobby, and Picky know him. Bubba and Kickin know of his existence because Dogday muttered his name when planning their sleepover but have yet to meet him. Dogday is his best friend, and wants to help him see that although it's great to be happy, he's still human (ik ik he isnt but yk what I mean) and is allowed to see things in a negative light sometimes.

Dogday was abandoned by his parents shortly after he was born, and was put in an orphanage and has lived there since. Just like catnap, however, he's not totally fatherless. One time, during one of the rare outings when one of their caretakers would take them to the local park dogday and wanted a balloon but didn't have a quarter to pay. Luckily for him, someone came and bought one for him. That someone was Huggy Wuggy. They became acquainted after Dogday thanked him, and anytime dogday visits the park, they sit on a bench and talk about things. (He also learned that Huggy gives the greatest hugs and now he won't leave without one everytime he has to go.) In terms of the friend group, he was the one that brought most of them together and along with being generally likeable he's in great standing with all of them. Though, hides the fact that he lives in an orphanage, thinking that they would treat him differently. When he met Catnap, however, they bonded over their lack of biological parents, and they became best friends. Dogday, even though he barely knows more than Catnap, wants to teach him how to make the best out of situations, even when times are bad.

------

Edit: tumblr try not to post my drafts challenge go- failed

[opinated-user]

out of curiosity, I searched "violate" on the comic blog again...

nothing showed up.

https://archive.li/h70Nb , tooootally unrelated link pay ab-so-lutley nooo attention in any wayyyy

it's officially gone.

i searched for it from the start of the comic and the entire arc has been scrapped. but you know what is still there? the aftermath when CLO asks G to explain why she metaphorically raped her and CLO tells her that she'd (as 14 year old, mind you) would have consented to mental sex with an adult if that adult had just asked her.

this is the comic right before the entry i just mentioned. if you're a first time reader who never heard about Violate before, you'd have no idea what G did that needed any explaining. next there's a comic of CLO and CMO talking about the situation. followed up G, the child rapist, feeling sad about being a child rapist to her then girlfriend Butterfree, CLO still putting the lock on her room, CMO talking to G and CMO using Lizzy's real name to convince CLO to forgive the creature that raped her as a child.

the comic of CLO asking forgiveness to G is still there and i still hate it just as much as the first day i saw it.

the part in red are there to remark this: this is the dialogue of a survivor of CSA towards her own rapist. in the context of this story, CLO, as the victim, doesn't have a right to be cold or mean to G because "she" (the child rapist, if you forgot) "deserves better".

this story is still asking me to forgive a child rapist and thinks she deserves better. i want to scream. it gets worse when you add the context of everything Courtney talked about and it really sounds like what LO wishes her sister had said to her after Courtney was finally able to stop the molestation at her hands. we also still have the comic of CLO assuring G "i could never hate you" and telling that they're are okay. because that's something you want to read between a child rapist and her victim.

she deleted G actually talking to CLO about the mating bond, but she still left the mess behind how the other characters reacted to this behind. she deleted the confrontation and left the abuse apologia anyway. what is even the point then? now she just made a confusing mess. the Violate arc page is still in the wiki and now i just found out that not only was only two months that passed for CLO to completely forgive G for what she did, but also G apparently was killing people for discovering about the mating bond.

either killing them or taking away their ability to speak somehow, both horrific actions that make G even less sympathetic that she was after violating a child. just imagine that somewhere off screen, there's a ditch where G kept dumping bodies because they could have told CLO about how she was basically raped as a child.

but she "deserved better". she just does. because she's actually what LO wishes she could be, a sympathetic child molester that is a badass that can kill with one look and also got unconditional love from the people she abused even when she doesn't actually deserve it.

that's not all, anon. that's not all at all.

in the section of "character development" of the wiki for this arc, the one that had all the trauma and stress was G.

"willing to attack a child". a normal, healthy and more than that, understandable reaction to your victim potentially finding out that she was molested. feel sorry for G, anon. she felt bad about raping a child, which is even worse than being raped as a child by someone you thought was a friend if you think about it! /s at least according to LO it is! also G won't even attempt to improve as a person in any sort of way after she went through the trauma of raping a child as a fully mature adult. because the trauma of raping a child doesn't make you stronger, anon. it just wounds you.

putting aside my feelings for this horrible idea, you all know what to do: keep the archives of violate and share them up as much as possible, including the wiki page. it's only a matter of time before LO starts denying the arc was ever there and start saying that we wrote Violate or something.

[password-door-lock]

Maybe

The (reader insert) mysme linguistics department AU that's been bouncing around in my head for months now; 3k words Rating: General Audiences

“Is there something wrong with that sentence?” Saeran asks, frantically scribbling in his notebook as he speaks. “It’s okay if you have the context, I guess,” you decide, “But without context, it just sounds weird to me.” “And what kind of context do you need?” Saeran seems to be a lot more direct with his questions than his brother has been, and he’s offering none of the same assurances about your general performance as a language consultant. Or: You agree to an interview about your native language. It's not at all what you expected.

This is literally just my niche daydream scenario of choice made as accessible as I could to those who aren't linguistics majors! The basic concept is that the twins are interviewing you about your native language for their research. I did include some English-specific stuff but I still tried to leave it fairly vague as far as what MC's native language is to make it slightly more immersive for as many people as possible. If anyone is interested I can definitely write more in this universe, possibly with some romance!

Read it on Ao3!

To be honest, you're a bit nervous about your upcoming interview. After all, you've never been interviewed for anything before— you were shocked that you even got a call back from the research team doing a study of your native language. You'd only applied for their study out of curiosity— how does one study a language via interview, anyway? After consulting with a few of your friends, you arrived at the conclusion that the researchers must want you to teach the language to them. That should be easy, right? You've been speaking it your whole life, and although Korean isn't your first language, clearly you've been able to learn it well enough to communicate your way through college and into a job here. How hard could it really be to mediate between the two?

Very hard, apparently. You're not sure how much you're supposed to have prepared, but you are coming into this interview with quite a bit of experience failing to explain basic concepts in your native language to a few of your friends. Hopefully, the researchers will know what they're doing— well, of course they will. Who are you kidding? They got approved to conduct a study, after all. That must mean that they have some sort of plan to go on, and you doubt that they would have selected you as a consultant if they didn't think you'd be able to help them. Nevertheless, you nervously adjust your button-down for the fifth time since getting off the train before opening the door to the room where the interview will be conducted.

You are greeted immediately by someone with the reddest hair you've ever seen. “MC, right?” He addresses you in your native tongue, and you blush, not having expected him to know anything right off the bat. If he's already conversational, what does he need you for? Maybe you’re supposed to help him teach somebody else.

“Hi,” you manage. “Yes. Hello.”

“Don't be shy,” he beckons for you to follow him into the room and leads you over to a table where another researcher— also with red hair— is waiting. The first guy is wearing yellow-and-black striped glasses with a matching yellow-and-black hoodie; the second sports a charcoal grey sweater over a pale blue dress shirt. You're not sure how you're going to tell them apart if you come back for a second interview— they've got to be identical twins. Although, you probably won't be coming back for a second interview, if they already speak the language you're supposed to be teaching them. Not that you have any clue how this works— maybe they need help developing language-instruction curriculum, or something along those lines. “I'm Saeyoung,” the one with the glasses pulls your chair back for you, “And this is Saeran. He'll be taking notes, if that's okay?”

“It's fine,” you assure them both. “Good to meet you.” 

“You mentioned on the form that you were okay with recording,” Saeran deadpans. He sounds like he's reciting from a mental script— you suppose there must be at least a few questions that they need to ask for legal reasons. “Is that still true?”

“Yes, of course,” you fidget nervously. He's certainly very intense, and this is not turning out to be what you expected at all. “Um... the form didn't explain what you would be doing?” 

“That's because our faculty advisor doesn't know,” Saeyoung grins, which instantly sets you more at ease. He seems like the type of person you could be friends with, in a non-interview setting, and it doesn’t hurt that he’s quite pretty. “And he made the fliers. All we want to do is ask you some questions about how you say things— and we might also check to see if our ideas about how we might say things are correct. Anything we ask you, just answer honestly. We’re looking for native speaker intuitions here, okay? But that’s just about everything we need from you.”

“Really? And will that help you learn?” You're still confused about how this works. Surely there are professional language teachers they can consult? They work at a university, after all.

“It may not help us with speaking, but it will absolutely help us with our research,” Saeyoung explains. “I wish I could tell you what I'm studying, but if I did, it might make you start to doubt your judgments. Just relax, and tell us whatever comes to your mind naturally. We'll take it from there.”

“Okay,” you nod. “Although, you already speak very well.”

“I've had a lot of practice,” Saeyoung assures you, “But you're a native speaker. You have intuitions that I'll never be able to access on my own.” 

Saeran snorts, but says nothing, and you can't help but agree with him— his twin is a bit intense, too, now that you think about it. “I mean, if you think it'll be helpful…” You trail off, unsure of how to go about this, but grateful that you don’t actually have to teach your native language to the researchers. Of course, knowing that much doesn’t help you to understand what kind of information they’re actually seeking, but Saeyoung and Saeran both seem to know what they’re doing.

“You'll do great,” Saeyoung assures you, “And even if you do a terrible job, you'll still get the cash prize at the end.”

You look to Saeran for clarification. He doesn’t seem like the type to mince words. “Compensation,” is his only explanation. “As noted on the form.”

“Oh, right.” You weren't even thinking about the compensation when you signed up, but the amount they’re offering will certainly go a long way if you attend multiple sessions.

“Alright,” Saeyoung grins. “Let's get started. I have a picture that I want you to describe, if that's okay.”

He slides a sheet of paper across the table to you. Someone has printed the Longcat meme onto it, and in full color, too. “Oh, it's Longcat,” you note.

“See ? People know Longcat,” Saeyoung addresses his brother in Korean. Based on his tone, you get the feeling that there was some heated debate involved in the image selection process. “I told you they would.”

“One person knows Longcat,” Saeran corrects him, “The last five didn't.”

You can't help but smile. “Am I really the only one?”

Saeyoung shakes his head mournfully. “People are so uncultured these days. It's a tragedy.”

Saeran rolls his eyes, before redirecting his attention to you. “How would you say ‘People know Longcat?'“

You get the feeling that he's asking you about your native language, since he already clearly knows how to say it in Korean. “Um...” you consider it, before offering a rough translation. Saeran seems to like it, as he begins vigorously scribbling on a notepad in front of him. “That's how you would, like... express the same idea? But did you mean word-for-word?”

“Never give us a word-for-word translation,” Saeran mumbles, shaking his head.

“He's just being dramatic,” Saeyoung assures you, “But please try to be as authentic as you can. If something is awkward to say or not how you would express whatever idea, just let us know, alright? We won't be mad. Now, would you mind pronouncing 'Longcat' again?”

Saeran rolls his eyes, but doesn’t interrupt as you repeat the word again. He has notes about that, too, which strikes you as odd— you wonder what he could possibly be writing to differentiate your version of 'Longcat' from his own. “Was that good?”

Saeyoung laughs. “If you're saying it naturally, then of course it's good.”

You blush. “Sorry. I'm just a little bit nervous... I've never done this before. I don’t want to mess up your research.” 

“Don't worry,” Saeyoung pats the Longcat picture as if it were a real cat, which, to his credit, gets a laugh out of you. “Just say whatever comes to mind about this picture. It'll help us, I promise.”

“Oh.” You look at the picture for a moment, not sure what you're supposed to say. “Well, it's Longcat, which is... like, a cat that is long?”

“What am I supposed to put for the free translation?” Saeran hisses in Korean.

Saeyoung shoots him a look that says 'shut up' in every language before turning back to you. “Don't mind him. Keep going.”

Considering you don't even know what a free translation is, Saeran’s comment isn’t hard to ignore. “Um, well, there's someone... holding the cat. Maybe that's to make it longer?”

Saeyoung nods, while Saeran continues taking frantic notes. You don't see how what you're saying is that interesting, but if it makes them happy, then you're glad to contribute— even if you are a bit confused. ”Sorry, and how would you say 'maybe they're holding the cat to make it longer?'“ It's giving you a headache to switch back and forth between languages so much, especially since you typically use only one at a time.

You translate his expression to your native language as best you can— the word order is different, of course, and you're not sure if Saeyoung wants you to phrase it as a question or as a statement. The most ‘correct’ way would probably be a statement, but you settle for translating the question to a question. That seems more accurate, even if it’s less grammatical. “But I don't know if that sentence is... like, correct .” Suddenly, you're very worried that you'll be teaching the twins how to speak incorrectly. Then, an even scarier idea pops into your mind: since they're both already so advanced, they might be judging you, and—

Saeyoung laughs. “Of course it's correct.” He waves you off. “You're a native speaker.”

Your eyes widen. “I say things wrong all the time. Like, I say ‘like’—”

“A discourse marker,” Saeran mumbles, talking more to his notes than to you. It doesn't sound like a bad thing, but you're not quite sure.

Saeyoung shakes his head. “And I say ‘well.’ There's literally no difference.”

“Yes, there i—” You start to correct him, before you remember that he's an expert, and also paying you. Maybe it would be best for you to refrain from correcting him on any point— but, then again, he explicitly asked you to correct him if necessary. This linguistics thing seems very complicated. “Never mind.” 

“It's just part of the language.” Saeran shrugs. You get the feeling that if he's on board with ‘like,’ then it's probably fine, considering how grumpy he seems about everything else. 

“Exactly,” Saeyoung agrees, “We want to know as much as we can about how you actually speak, MC.”

The way he says it makes you blush. You know very well that the twins are really only interested in your speech for how it will help them with their research— but, still, they’re both such intense and passionate people, and to have all of that attention trained on you… well, you can’t really beat yourself up about the heat that’s rising to your cheeks, can you? And, anyway, you’re here to help them with their research, not to beat yourself up— you’d better start participating properly. You examine the Longcat photo once again. “Do you want me to just keep describing it?” 

“If you want,” Saeyoung replies, “Otherwise, I have other ways of extracting information.” He wiggles his fingers menacingly, earning a giggle from you and a light shove from Saeran. It doesn’t look like it hurt very much, but Saeyoung rubs his side where his brother’s elbow made contact. “Okay, I get it! Hey, MC— how would you say, ‘Maybe he pushed me to make me shut up?’” 

You glance hesitantly in Saeran’s direction, and he raises his eyebrows in a gesture of invitation that you might classify as playful, considering his typical affect. “It’s a good question,” he concedes with a slight smirk. 

Oh. Alright then. Nothing to see here— just two beautiful twins interrogating you about your native language, as if you could be expected to throw together any combination of words while they’re both looking at you so expectantly. You offer a vague translation. “At least, that’s how I would say it. I know there’s other ways.” You then list a few alternative expressions which have the same general meaning. 

“Okay,” Saeyoung glances at his laptop, which, presumably, contains notes for how he wants to conduct the remainder of this session. “What if I knew for a fact that he pushed me to make me shut up?” 

You consider this. “Um… I guess it would be like, ‘He pushed me to make me shut up.’ But now that I think about it, Saeran didn’t really, uh, push you. He elbowed you, so ‘He elbowed me to make me shut up,’ would be better.”

“Okay,” Saeyoung says again, “So, then, do you think ‘Maybe he elbowed me to make me shut up,’ would be better, too?” 

“Yeah, but ‘pushed’ is still okay,” you explain, though you’re sure he already knows that it’s a permissible word. “I just think it’s wrong in context.”  

Saeran regards you with brilliant green eyes. “Back to the cat,” he taps on the photo with the clicker at the end of his pen, “Could I say, ‘They’re holding it to make the cat longer?’” 

You wince. “Uh… I don’t know.” You really do have to think about it for a moment— surprisingly, it’s not easy to determine right away whether a sentence is appropriate. In all honesty, something about it feels off, but you don’t know how to explain what the problem is. “I think so.” 

“Is there something wrong with that sentence?” Saeran asks, frantically scribbling in his notebook as he speaks. 

“It’s okay if you have the context, I guess,” you decide, “But without context, it just sounds weird to me.” 

“And what kind of context do you need?” Saeran seems to be a lot more direct with his questions than his brother has been, and he’s offering none of the same assurances about your general performance as a language consultant. 

You bite your lip as you consider the inquiry. “I think just the picture of the cat would be enough? But even that is a little weird. I think ‘They’re holding the cat to make it longer’ would be better. Did I say it the other way around before?” 

“What if I said, ‘Maybe they’re holding it to make the cat longer?’” Saeran asks, neither relenting nor answering your question. 

“I don’t know,” you admit, “That does sound a lot better for some reason, but I still don’t like it.” 

“Hm.” You’re not sure if that’s a positive sound, and Saeran seems too occupied with his notes to elaborate further. 

“That’s alright,” Saeyoung assures you, redirecting your attention back to the picture. He’s standing beside you now, so that he can reach over and point at the image without having to lean across the table. “Why don’t you just tell us more about what you think is going on in this picture?” 

“Do you want more ‘maybe’ sentences?” You ask. There seems to be a trend forming here, and you want to be as helpful as you can.

Saeyoung grins. “You’re a sharp one,” he observes. “Yes, we want more ‘maybe’ sentences, please.” 

You chew thoughtfully on your bottom lip as you consider this new request. “Well,” you study the picture in front of you, paying special attention to the wrist of the person holding onto Longcat, “Maybe that watch is a Rolex?” 

That gets both twins smiling. Maybe this language consultant gig won’t be so difficult after all. 

The hour dedicated to your interview goes by surprisingly quickly; it feels as though it’s over before it’s even begun. The twins seem very interested in your guesses and conjectures about the Longcat photo, though you still have no idea what they could possibly be planning to use this data for. “Is there anything else you need from me?” You ask, just after the timer goes off. Saeran, it seems, anticipated that he and Saeyoung would get too wrapped up in the interviewing process to end it promptly without the aid of an alarm— you can respect that, you decide. You were pretty wrapped up, too.

“No,” Saeran assures you with something almost like a smile.

You might be persuaded, were it not for Saeyoung's simultaneous declaration of, “Oh, yeah, but we can save that for the next session.”

“If you want me to stay, I can stay,” you offer, “I've been having fun with this ‘maybe’ business.” You don’t know any of the technical terms, but you get the feeling that the twins are approaching some sort of breakthrough. Even Saeran was fairly animated during the final segment of the elicitation. 

“We have to meet with our faculty advisor,” Saeran explains, perhaps a bit regretfully. “But you can come back next Wednesday, if you'd like.”

“We can also do phone or video interviews,” Saeyoung elaborates. Sometime during the interview, he took to sitting on the table beside you, which you don't suppose is very professional— then again, he did also show you photos of Longcat. Maybe professionalism works differently in his field than it does in yours. “If that's easier for you.”

“I'll come back,” you assure them with a smile, “But I'm bringing snacks next time.” You don’t like the thought of the twins rushing around campus, working for free on this project of theirs before hurrying to a meeting with some professor. They should at least get some refreshments in between, right? 

“Bring something sweet,” Saeran orders.

“Please,” Saeyoung adds on his brother’s behalf with a sheepish smile.

As you leave the classroom that they've taken over for their research, you can't help but wonder what you’ve gotten yourself into. 

[p0is0ned]

It's unbelievable to see your Instagram accounts inactive. At least the ones I can see. I can't believe you aren't seeking female attention to the extent you were before. I can see that you still are from what I'm able to see, but I'm surprised your need for attention has decreased at all lol. What about the girls you "loved"? The ones you couldn't help but cheat on me with? The ones that were so much "better" than me? The ones you were hung up on before me and during our time together? You don't even follow them? When we were together you couldn't keep them blocked. You could not resist looking at pictures of them. I'm talking specifically about those 2. You know their names. The ones you promised me you'd block and then unblock, like, and message the next day thinking I wouldn't notice. The one you'd been so madly in love with. Remember the poems you'd write about her? Her, the one who you creeped out so bad she wanted nothing to do with you? Ghosted you because you made her uncomfortable? Meanwhile me, your girlfriend, begged for attention you never gave me lmao. I couldn't spark an ounce of creative writing from you, despite all my love letters I wrote you. You could have used them for inspiration. But I wasn't her I guess. Anyways, I'm surprised to see the last time you were thirsting like the creepy man you are in her comments was 3 years ago. Surprised you aren't following her. I can't keep tabs on the other one because she blocked me. Remember she blocked me for asking, way too politely, if you cheated with her? Lmfao. You should've just dated her instead of me. You're both trash!

I can only imagine how little I meant to you if you don't even like them anymore. They were (are?) your favorite girls in the world! So much better than me. I must not be more than a passing scent in the wind, probably less than that. Not that I need to mean anything to you, but I gave you so much time and devotion that looking back and thinking about it, in all its context, is just out of my realm. It's really hard for me to imagine caring so little about your long term partner, the person you say that you love and are devoted to. Looking back now I feel the hatred you must have had for me, the control and possession. Not love, but enjoyment that someone was devoted to you, someone who would forgive you for all the pleasure you got from hurting them. So you could do it repeatedly. My emotional torment was your pleasure. I can see the evil in you. It's still hard for me to visualize that level of evil. And I'm only touching on the surface. I really was dirt to you. It's still hard not to see myself as worthless sometimes, when I get stuck in the past remembering that someone can call themselves your partner and also convince you that no one will ever really love you romantically.

Turns out I don't have a "temper". I'm not mad all the time. I was just reacting to constant pain, your constant need to love, care for, and fuck other women when you were only supposed to do that for me. I've been with my man for a year and he's never made me feel the way you did. The way you made me feel from the beginning. I see now why you targeted me from the start; I was already susceptible to manipulation. Insecure, empathetic, and desperate to love and be loved.

Anyways, you can have them all back now. But I guess it's not as pleasurable without someone to cheat on. you're a creepy fuck.

[forgotten-daydreamer]

hi! sorry if this is annoying, but I'm queer and learning Italian (my teacher is awesome!) and I know there are no "gender neutral pronouns" but I've heard that queer people with languages kinda make up their own? Is that also true for Italian? ty! 🩷

Hi! Not annoying at all.

So, Italian doesn't have an official neutral form. Latin used to have it, but we lost it in Italian. There are a few ways to get around the problem when it comes to written communication.

Some use ə (schwa) to replace the gendered vowel at the end of most adjectives. -> for "beautiful", we have bello (m.), bella (f.), bellə (g.n.)

Some people directly omit the gendered vowel (e.g. bell)

Some people substitute the gendered vowel with an x (e.g. bellx) or with an asterisk (e.g. brav*)

Some replace the gendered vowel with "u" (e.g. bellu)

Now, pronouns- we have "egli/lui" (he) and "ella/lei" (she), and a written gender neutral option can be "ləi". Same goes for "essi" (them, m.) and "esse" (them, f.) but honestly nobody uses these anymore, we just say "loro" (g.n.).

Unfortunately, this doesn't really work with oral communication, because the schwa doesn't belong to Italian phonology, so even though we can absolutely pronounce it, it doesn't sound natural. For context, ə is what we have in words like /ˈtʃɪldrən/ (children). Italian doesn't have it, since its phonology only includes /a, ɛ, e, i, ɔ, o, u/

The substitution with "u" is the only option that works when speaking out loud, and it doesn't sound too off, nor too different from ə (not to untrained ears, anyway), so you can go with that.

And of course, you can't just pronounce the x like that at the end of a word- in English, it's either /ks/ or /gz/ depending on its position, but the Italian language doesn't work like that. We have words with x, such as ''ex'', ''extra'', ''xenofobia'', but as you notice they're all words imported from Latin (sometimes Greek), and despite popular beliefs, Italian and Latin are widely different- even if most of us could, technically, understand about 70% of any text written in Latin.

Also, * and x at the end of words are not immediately understandable for people who use text-to-speech.

It's easier when it comes to nouns, because fortunately most nouns have a gender neutral option that wasn't ''crafted'' with that purpose.

For example, instead of saying ''Sono solo una povera ragazza." (''I'm just a poor girl'') I use ''persona'', which is ''person'' (duh). OFC, in this case, the adjective ''povera'' will remain feminine because the noun ''persona'' is feminine- but just like it happens in English, the noun ''persona'' is for everyone, male, female, enby. It's neutral, it just means ''person''.

Nobody prevents you from using gender neutral nouns instead of gendered nouns, and same goes for adjectives, but sometimes you need to think ahead.

Some examples may be: bell-o/a > di bell'aspetto; simpatic-o/a > divertente; maestr-o/a and professor-e/essa> insegnante; dottor-e/essa > medico; carin-o/a > adorabile/gentile (context); buon-o/a > piacevole.

Now, the devil (for Italian kids, too): the dreaded apostrophe. What's the difference between ''un atleta'' and ''un'atleta'' (an athlete)? The first one is masculine, the second one is feminine. With nouns that are preceded by indefinite articles (sing.), and that start with a vowel, if the noun that follows is feminine, you need to add an apostrophe.

Even if you didn't know Italian, if you read ''un'ombra'', ''un orso'', ''un elicottero'', ''un'elica'', ''un'ape'', ''un amo'', etc, you'd be immediately able to distinguish feminine and masculine nouns.

So, going back to the ''atleta'' example, even if it's a gender-neutral option, when writing (because the presence of the apostrophe doesn't influence on the pronounciation) you're still going to have to give a gender to it, unless you get around it by saying ''Faccio l'atleta'' (lit. ''I do the athlete''. It's a correct way to say ''I'm an athlete''.)

A gendered sentence like "Ciao, mi chiamo X, sono una ragazza di 20 anni e sono un'atleta. Mi dicono tutti che sono bella, ma io mi sento orrenda. Da grande, vorrei fare la dottoressa." can be turned into ''Ciao, mi chiamo X, ho 20 anni e faccio l'atleta. Mi dicono tutti che sono di bell'aspetto, ma io mi sento inguardabile. Da grande, vorrei fare il medico."

("Hi, my name's X, I'm a 20 yr-old girl and I'm an athlete. Everyone tells me I'm pretty, but I feel ugly. When I grow up, I'd like to be a doctor.")

You have to think outside the box, you know? Personally, as a non-binary person, I use ə when I refer to myself (written), and try to use as many gender-neutral options as I can, both when I write and speak. I don't use the "u" substitution but I should start- it takes effort and 'training'. NGL, it's hard, and sometimes there's just no way of getting around it, but it's mostly doable!!

I hope this answers your question!

[midnightactual]

The word majutsushi wasn't unknown to Yoruichi, despite its relative obscurity contemporaneously, but what exactly was meant by it in this context—beyond the obvious meanings like mage, sorcerer, witch, wizard, magician, or conjurer—eluded her for the moment.

She'd been called many things over time; when she (rarely) gave some hint of her true nature these days, bakemono was a very common response. To calmly use a negative association, and for that to be considered a positive, was an intriguing detail!

Her expression turned more thoughtful, solar eyes taking on an evaluating set which focused all the more when she heard the next strange word: sāvanto. She deduced it was intended to be 'servant' and not 'savant' by inference and the context that followed. Summons...? Unbound by space or time?

She said only, "No," in reply to the questions, deciding to simply be frank rather than indulging in any cute turns of phrase or colloquialisms. She had the sense that Nobunaga would soon enlighten her anyway.

Her reward was another interesting term in eirei. A 'heroic spirit'... no great need to guess what that meant as it was promptly defined more precisely for her. She was already making mental associations of her own, and Nobunaga would likely be able to discern that gears were indeed turning behind her otherwise mostly inscrutable golden eyes.

The final remarks were the last pieces of the puzzle she needed to at least sketch out the situation before her. So, she was a kind of essence(?) of the—an—original Oda Nobunaga from some alternate reality, summoned there and now stranded here, disconnected from energy to sustain herself. It sounded kind of like a fusion of what happened with high reii individuals imprinting themselves upon the fabric of reality, and reigai, albeit less robust than either. At any rate, she at least broadly understood.

It was also a lesser matter. It was clear that this Oda Nobunaga wasn't just some revenant or shade—there was obviously sapience and interiority at work before her. It seemed Nobunaga wasn't exactly the original soul, but she still was one, and clearly valued continued existence to have persisted this long.

"So, the 'contract' you mention is an ongoing 'ritual for calling' performed by your 'master' to 'tie you to this reality' as a 'servant'. You need someone here to take it up or you're dust in the wind—and you'd rather keep living," Yoruichi rhetorically surmised, putting a slightly wry tinge on that last word. She'd been maintaining the energy transfer for long enough to have realized that her reiatsu wasn't really staying with Nobunaga, and was at best a temporary solution. Simply increasing the flow wouldn't really change much, and wasn't practicable.

Her expression shifted to one of certain and resolute command, and she suddenly had an air about her that was practically regal. It seemed she wore it exceedingly naturally. "Very well." A noble and winsome-looking smile formed on her lips as she straightened up in her kneel. Her two fingers gingerly brushed up Nobunaga's sternum and one side of her neck until she could gently cradle the younger woman's cheek. "Then on my self-evident and eminent authority, I shall form a contract with you, Oda Nobunaga." She had no idea if more than simply saying that was required, but stating it officially enough seemed a sensible start.

Nobunaga had always had a 'smart mouth' as her mother had liked to call it - not on friendliest of principles, unsurprisingly. Even when she wasn't trying to be insulting, her jests were usually taken as such- but that never once did deter her. If anything, knowing her mother would probably be scolding her for lack of proper respect towards the stranger was another driving force behind her behavior now.

Not that she did mean any disrespect towards her impromptu savior, of course; but the warlord's show of respect had never been seeped in age long traditions. She instead displays it through solid eye contact at first introduction, the smile on her face being genuine rather a sarcastic smirk. One hand placed on her own knee as it lifts, stabilizing herself in a somewhat presentable posture. ( It's not the show of strength she gives homage to but the clear willingness to help. )

She gives a solid nod to the woman's assertion, finding little point in lying. While her pride might have otherwise tried to persuade her to hide any weakness, to try doing so now would make her a bigger fool than she had ever been before. Though the servant finds herself somewhat doubtful of whatever abilities she might hold, there's not much point in resisting an attempt to help. Her eyes are heavy, so she decides to close them while the attempt at restoring her reserves are made.

Admittedly, what she feels next makes her rather uneasy, despite the invitation to relax. While she'd only felt a small bit of some sort of equivalent to this world's magic come from her before, it was clear now that had been under some strange form of presence concealment - or whatever the ability would have been called in this world. It very much invokes the feeling of having a gun pressed to her head to be met with such powerful source of power; especially when her previous master at chaldea had almost no magical abilities of his own. It does strike her right then, how easily she could be crushed in an instant, even if she had been at her power in Chaldea. She can't help but give a small shudder, for a moment more representative of the young, teenage body she manifested in.

Yet, she decides not to pull away. Her grip on the cloth over her knee gets tighter, then relaxes once again. The decision to trust this being - whatever they were - had been made.

Feeling the gentle flow of energy - fluctuating and testing her limits, is an immense relief. While it's the equivalent of pouring water into a bucket full of holes, it shows a very clear intention. Not someone who was reckless or irresponsible ( well, not for this instance, anyways. She couldn't say for the rest ).

This is impressive, given that men had died over objects that held but a fraction of the power she was feeling right now. Honestly, it's not even comparable.

"And you're....definitely not a mage, Shihōin." she remarks in an understatement, finding the courage to open her eyes once more "All for the better."

Less likely to throw her to the wolves, anyways. She'd take anyone outside of the majority of those selfish bastards. Not that she had much room to weight her options, tough...

"I'm...guessing you don't have the concept of servants here? Beings that come from different worlds and times to answer to rituals for their calling?"

She's not out of the woods by any means, but she's managed to gather enough energy from the exchange to speak in full sentences once more; like the water collecting at the very bottom of the metaphorical bucket.

"I'm what my world calls a heroic spirit : someone who exists outside of time and the realm of mortality. The manifestation of my human life as Oda Nobunaga."

Eye contact was made once more as she explains - trying to gauge how much of what she saying was absorbed or believed. There starts to be a spark of hope within her that this may not yet be her last day.

"My 'energy', as you put it - is so low because my contract with my previous master has been severed. I have nothing tying to me to this reality but my own will; and I should already be long gone by now."

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Hello. Been a while; I hope all is well on your end. I have a HC request: how would the Magic Knight captains respond to a potential recruit, who while low in raw magic power, is able to use their magic power to supplement other skills (skilled in weaponry and/or any type of fighting style and they use their magic to create weapons and/or assist them in their fighting style)

Hiya~! ^-^ It has indeed been a while! I decided that since this is more... of an informative request, than a scenario based HC request, I'll include all the captains, since I do have the limit of 5 per request. (Just making sure my new followers are informed, and know why I'm rolling with the 9 characters in this context)

Anyways, getting to the actual response...

Fuegoleon:

He would be intrigued in how well you're utilizing your mana in such a versatile manner. And he does easily realize the potential of you skills, which, more or less consciously, makes him immediately think about how he might craft a training regimen that would allow you to get affiliated with the rest of the squad easily. Because your power, though useful, is also dependent on how well the squad works together.

Nozel:

He, too, quickly realizes the potential of it, but because his squad's training model isn't so group oriented, it'd mean that you'd need to be paired with skilled mages. And there's come the question of how well you'd get along, because your power requires you to be a team player in a squad that's more or less composed of individuals. Plus, the fact that you don't have a lot of mana is off putting as well.

Yami:

It's intriguing, and he is interested. Also, the idea of working as support to others goes very well with the idea of how the Bulls work. So, he thinks that you'd be a very good fit. If you're "amusing" even better, because the potential is there.

Charlotte:

She does understand the value of your skill, but is also worried about how well you'd be able to fend for yourself, especially with your mana amount. However, she's not afraid of a challenge and teaching people to get better. Her interest in recruiting you would be on the fence though, because she's, as a person, someone who greatly relies on her own power, and struggles to ask for help. So, with her, teaching someone about team work would fall into the category of "do as I teach, not as I say".

Jack:

He'd think that it's an interesting ability, but creating weapons and/or other effects that aid others, isn't really his expertise. There is value in you, but he's not sure if he could utilize it in his squad.

Kaiser:

Finds it intriguing, and would display interest in recruiting you, but as with many others, the issue would come with implementing it to the squad. Because there's a great deal of mutual trust and working together that is necessary for your power, and he's dealing with the trust issues that came with Gueldre's time as a captain still. It's likely that the Orcas aren't ready for it yet.

Rill:

Finds it inspiring, even intriguing, but he doesn't know what to do with it.

Dorothy:

zzzzzzz..... It's interesting, and she can in a way see her own magic in it. You're both creating things from your imagination, in a way, in order to aid others. But if you rely solely on others, there is a risk for you in joining.

William:

His squad is composed of strong individuals, and is not based on teamwork, even if he's trying to get them to work together more. So, he think that the Golden Dawn isn't for you. Plus, your low mana poses a problem.

[yostresswritinggirl]

Genshin Boys would be Horrible as Disney Princes

Headcanon and Reader Perspective, Drabble

Sojourner Special (Followers Event)

Despite being the gentleman and sweethearts that they are, in the wrong hands, of badly aligned context and universal rules these boys can barely function as princes given their own ideals.

Diluc in Cinderella

Shortest one, oops.

Our Diluc would honestly be too busy for balls if we're doing this canonically, night time of all times. He's not your prince tonight, he's off somewhere doing Knight stuff...

If by chance you did catch him in the ball and he did indulge you with your dance until you escapaded at midnight, he's not gonna question it.

And since he didn't even REMEMBER your face, the next day just goes on as usual. No decree for searching the whole land for your foot or anything, it's just a normal day after a party.

"They left without a word, no name or promise, who am I to say no when they clearly don't want to stay?"

He's a gentleman. Too gentlemanly...

Childe in Sleeping Beauty

In this scenario, Childe embraces his knight-ness more than the princely aspect. I mean sure, he danced with you in the forest all so lovingly, sang along to your pretty lil voice. But when the prophecy came, his focus changed—

To the thrill of fighting a big ass green fire breathing dragon! Big woah, Childe had soooo much fun fighting it that he didn't even cheese it.

He lived for every hour of the fight and made it as slow as possible. Taunting, playing with his PREY- mid-fight the dragon would realize just how strong and horrifying Prince Childe is, but the entertainment had started, and the dance won't end until Childe wills it.

When he DID finally slay the damned thing, he'll come up to your quarters and stare at your sleeping body, and then think "Hey, if them being put under this spell gave me the fight of the century? What if ANOTHER dragon comes? That would be amazing!" No waking up for you, or the whole city for that matter.

Albedo in Frog Princess

You... You don't even get the chance to be the frog princess in here... simply because he himself REFUSES to change back to normal. You have never met a man so intelligent, much more a frog.

"I know of which you are not, I won't be fooled by cardboard crowns and secondhand dresses," you choke as he berates every fiber of your being, "It matters not, I still have much to learn about the life of an amphibian."

He disappears after that and you've never heard from him ever again, although at the back of your mind you're pretty sure he's a live and well, that bastard is too smart to end up as roadkill.

And well, you're right, he's out there in the world of frogs doing frog things. Triumphant over frog science and the other talking creatures he may meet.

He'll also find a way to revert himself back to normal, either making his own cure or just enlisting the help of a princess to bargain.

He might come to you upon the logic of marriage counting you as princess, but don't get too hyped, you won't be treated as his wife. He'd be too busy putting his frog research into paper...

Zhongli in Beauty and the Beast

A beast he may be, he's still dignified and elegant, upholding his end of the bargain so long as the other does the same.

Your father may have trespassed and have taken some flowers in his domain but well, really it's such a petty crime that can easily be solvable. And even if there needs to be punishment incured...

When you stumble to the mansion in search of your father, ready to take his place from his jail cell, you find him and the beast (ohh half-dragon Zhongles) by an elegant table drinking cups of tea with light conversation. Huh?

"There is no need to fret, your father and I are just discussing the terms of our contract. He spoke of his woodworks that I wish to commission in exchange, such good potential should not be wasted."

You can also, well, pay off things within contract? But either way, it would be hella awakward, he won't impose on your life and most certainly not about the curse when you had so much to live for.

Kaeya in Rapunzel

Little bitch, thru and thru. If Eugene is such a criminal, he's taking it TENFOLD.

He's not even gonna be the slightest bit trustworthy for you, little Rapunzel, because he raises so many red flags your frying pan wouldn't even be enough to threaten him. He probably has a really thick skull, and your resolve won't be able to smack that pretty face.

Bargaining won't work, he'd sleight of hand his way out and get the crown knowing you'd hid it in the pot immediately, and then just backflip outta there.

If you manage to get him to get you out, he's not gonna be of help either. Kaeya would be amused with toying with you, leaving you in the dark as you get scared shitless/dance around with some tavern criminals. Otherwise, ehh...

One way or another, he's gonna find a way to get you off his case. Either forcing you to travel with companions that's headed to the city anyways or forcefully knocking you out and heaving you back to your tower.

"You have a mother that never ages lock you up in this tower? Nu uh, sweetie, I'm not dealing with the dark forces of witchery when I'm already well off with the crown."

He got the crown.

Venti in Snow White

I'm sorry what? Free apples? Eternal sleep in a beautiful bed? He's gonna be glad to just take your place. (Spoilers, he would)

He'd be most definitely entertained with your dwarves, playing his tunes. You life would be filled with his lyre as he plays around, not even caring about the other implications of yours or his status in this woodland forest.

You ran away from home? Cool, freedom, man. Wish he could the same without jeopardizing the kingdom and his family. He'd probably take the apple too just for you~

During your rest, he'll come up with the most eloquent song to play for your seven dwarves as he watches your fate sadly. How peaceful you looked, away from the world and from the grips of death.

The dwarves would force him to please try and break the spell, and he'll shrug and indulge- except it didn't break the spell, as he expected it to be. And they are clueless on who else you had encountered in your life to even spare a true love's kiss.

"How saddening, the princess lays. Maddening to those around as they'd say, if only my kiss was enough for the curse to sway." You died, ouch.

Xiao in Mulan

Brutal. Brutal. Brutal. His voicelines would come in sooooo handy here, oh my goodness.

If you miraculously bypassed his analytical gaze enough to hide your sexuality, you're going to die in his training program. He's not gonna go easy on you, not when the fate of the nation lies upon your capability to keep up. You're gonna go through far worse than what true Mulan went through, and you may or may not just die in the process.

If by chance you survived, this would warrant enough respect to not kill you (oh, you lived) but you better not show up again.

He's never gonna be delighted to see your traitorous face again, he can save China on his own, thank you very much. And you know he can. Try and approach him, and a sword would be at your neck once again.

"Foolish gremlin, you think you had the right to present yourself after the treason you willfully committed? We won't crumble at the loss of one person, your job here is done." How sad.

Cyno in Little Mermaid

First of all, wack, mermaids exist! Sadly, that's nothing new for him. He knows a lot with that intelligent mind of his, so it would be no surprise that the existence of such mythical creatures doesn't make him bat an eyelash. He's been living near water, he's not that stupid.

With that in mind, your presence in your first meeting is going to be bad. Very bad. Cyno knows about sirens and he's not at all gonna fall for it, and if by chance he had known you before the ship was wrecked, he's probably gonna be veryyy keen in capturing you instead.

So if by chance you're stupid enough to interact with him and DESIRE to be on land with him, you're gonna deal with a lot of problems.

You're not getting that kiss easily. No, it's a huge challenge. He'd be repulsed in your naivety and will most likely be more concerned on your voice than ever. He'd be so kind to try and give a shot in helping with the cure but it's not the cure you needed.

He'll drown himself in every literature in full concentration just to see if there's any text he can find about curses and muteness. His curiousity would get the best of him, and you'll barely see him after you managed to explain your predicament without the need for words. Octopus woman doesn't even need to show up to intervene.

"A kiss? Surely not, such ailment won't be cured by fairytale methods." And then he goes back to his library once again. And you will be seafoam the next sunrise. Or was it sunset?

"So now that we've established these grounds," Exiled turns to the other two in the area, "Maybe, these boys would be better off as princesses."

And so the trio concocts a new type of fairytale, collaborated to masterpieces soon after.

@moaa @dandelion-dreams @witchsungie @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @struggljng @ellitx @kookieyachi @dandelion-dreams

[jjkpls]

the wishlist (m) - 6 (final)

“Was it worth it?”

> genre : smut, angst, fluff

> pairing : jeon jungkook x reader (f)

> words : 15k (ugh sorry)

> content/warnings : back at it again w/ the bff2l; one sided love, LOTS of pining; sextoys talk and use; explicit language; explicit description of sex; phonesex; masturbation (f); dirtytalk; alcohol drinking; dubcon exhibitionism; ambiguous infidelity

previous - masterlist

There's a lot of forgetting to get done. It wasn't the plan to get drunk. Maybe you should have known better than to confide the slightest about your heart and its aching to your two girlfriends. Because they don't have much of a solution to present you with. You meant to ask of them to divert your mind, make you laugh, feed you so much you'd fall into a food coma and wouldn't be able to think about anything else but sleep. Eventually, share their own dramas of the moment (they always have some) to get you so invested in their shits you wouldn't be thinking about your own.

You made the mistake of sharing, with probably too much preponderance in your tone, that Jungkook was back with his girlfriend.

Without any context clues -they didn't even know that he was single for approximately four days-, they knew. You're not that complicated to read when it comes to him. Only he seems to not get it.

You still remember the first time they found you out. They had a sense that something was up with this kid, that there couldn't just be a platonic, decade-old friendship based on nothing spicier than the tteokbokki you'd cook for him every now and then.

They only started believing, with utter incredulity, that it was true when they saw you, and him, and his girlfriend. All at the same time, sitting around the same table, there was no doubt left. No reason to believe that there's something unsaid existing. They saw your eyes though. The shine they gain whenever you'd be looking at him, laughing hard with all his teeth out, and the glassy look they took on whenever they'd catch a gesture, a touch that was meant only for Jiyeun.

You've never really gone into details. You've never ranted over the feelings, over him, everything that made him the one person for you. They saw you cry over him though, one drunken night, and it was enough to make them understand how deep you were in.

And perhaps it's your fault, that you wouldn't sort of train them to be the better friends they wish to be to you. They don't know what to say, what to do to console you. You don't even know what you need. Really, all you know, it's that you didn't feel able enough to take care of your tormented heart and mind alone tonight.

You are to blame if they dragged you to this bar, with the music too loud and the people too numerous, bumping their hips to yours attempting to coarse you into dancing. You hate every second of it. Every element that was supposed to distract you, help you forget, feel better, served as annoying distractions. You could picture yourself, dipped in a scorching hot bath, with a bowl of ice cream, weeping your eyes out like in the most cliche, most dramatic breaking down of your life. And it felt right, in your mind anyway, a thousand times better than this.

"Here!" Like the good girl that you are, you accept the shots. Min sets one in each of your hand and stares over the rim of her own glass, expecting. You roll your eyes. Swallow them down in one go and she yells, arms in the air, jumping like the night has just been made.

At least, she's entertained. Dancing her life away, kind of wilding out with too much energy, having to apologize every few seconds for knocking someone with an elbow or slapping another with her ponytail.

"Look, who's here!"

Your heart skips a beat then. Until you follow Mary's finger who's pointing rudely at Park Jimin. Park Jimin as in Jeon Jungkook's Park Jimin, one of his closest friends. He's dressed in all black, tight leather pants clawing to his legs, silk shirt half unbuttoned, perched on heeled Chelsea boots, dark black hair gelled back.

For a second, you worry, stupidly, if your friend is not going to appear, emerging from the thick crowd, carrying a drink, catching your eyes in the room. That's another thing you wouldn't need right now: seeing him. When you're in this weird state of sadness, guiltiness, of hopelessness and confusion. You'd probably be a mean bitch again. He doesn't deserve that.

For some time, you're just watching Jimin, being Jimin, dancing languorously, flashing smiles and winks so naturally; making everyone uncomfortable just because he's so attractive and so talented at catching people's attention and making them want him. It's just Jimin, hoeing out, as always. No Jungkook ever appears next to him. And while you sort of spy on him, there are the two dumb bitches next to you, drooling over him. Commenting about his ass, the way he moves his hips and how tight he seems to be in his pants.

"You should have fallen for him, dude!" It's the pinch to your arm that drags you back to the conversation, lets you know that you're the one Min is addressing. "What?" Your brain is already a bit slow. You haven't eaten much before leaving, drunk not much but too fast and forming intelligible sentences, translating your thoughts in their entirety is not a task easily doable at the moment. You meant to say something about how ridiculous they sound. About how it doesn't make any sense. About Jungkook and the things you feel for him, and the way you fell and how even when you suffer, like in this instance, you wouldn't change your heart because it's him, and only him, has been and might as well always be.

Why would you fall for Park Jimin?

"Jimin, you'd just ask him to fuck you and he'll do it."

"You can see he's a very generous slut."

It makes you wince. They're being fucking weird. Obnoxious, in their way of ogling him and quite disgusting talking about him. There's a smirk on the corner of Jimin's mouth and you wonder if maybe he's noticed them and is enjoying it. They don't mean to be offensive, you suppose, but they're still rude as hell.

"Useless Jungkook could never!"

Either you knock your friend out with your newly filled up glass or you drink it and attempt to swallow along your rage and that strange feeling that the open shirt Jimin is wearing has raised in you.

"Don't you wanna try him?" The question is absurd. You don't try people in general. But you'd never, ever, even think about trying someone as close as he is to Jungkook.

What the actual fuck?

"Fine! Don't give me those eyes!" Your brain and face connection is not that great at the moment that you'd know precisely what Mary is referring to. Soon after frowning and pouting through a sip of her drink, she's leaving, straight for the less crowded part of the bar, where people are dancing, where Jimin is showing off.

She needs less than thirty seconds to have him wrapped around her. Min is howling at your side like it's such an exploit. You don't want to bad mouth on your friend but it is, indeed, Jimin. Manwhore Jimin. And just like that, just because she walked in his vicinity, whispered something quickly to him, maybe just a simple greeting and a reminder of who she is, your friend, in case he couldn't make her out, and he's holding her tight, dancing, more like grinding against her, to her greatest pleasure, face buried in her hair, he seems to be uttering things directly in her ear. You catch her fingers reaching for the wide opening of his shirt, brushing against that tattoo you know to be there under his breast but have never gotten to really decipher, and he's leaving kisses on her shoulders. The next thing you see is his wide, wolf-like grin, now aiming straight at you.

You startle, almost let your glass shatter to the ground from the surprise. That seems to make him laugh. He waves a hand quickly your way and for some reasons, it sends a sudden flaming flush to your cheeks. That guy is such a cunt-tease, he's awful. No wonder people talk so crudely about him.

"I need to get plastered." You mumble, probably not loud enough for Min, whose arm you're dragging along on your way to the bar, to hear.

You may have thought, for a split second, of a fantasy. You may have reshaped the scene taking place in front of you to make it more suitable to you, to make it as self-indulgent as you could. With you replacing Mary, with Jungkook replacing Jimin. She made it seem so easy and for the briefest of moments, it felt like it was realisable. As if the only step missing, the only thing making it not real yet, is the first step, the one Mary took by just walking up to him and asking him to dance, maybe for you to be his for a while.

Then Jimin looked over, with his dark eyes and pretty luscious lips, his very sexy aura and everything that makes him him, and it all felt down to the ground. That's ridiculous.

That would never work.

Maybe hot men with the most endearing hearts that you really desire are not to be seduced by you. It just wouldn't happen. Jungkook would never, as she said. What a shame.

You should have fallen for someone easier like Jimin. He's not one person's man, that's for sure, but at least, he would have been great at pretending to be yours for a moment.

Now you really need to get drunk.

There's pure guilt boiling in the pit of your stomach. Because you've never denied your feelings for Jungkook. He deserves them. He deserves to be loved by everyone. Deeply and passionately. And no matter how true, how pure, how intense those feelings are, he never owes to reciprocate, does he? And here you are, greedy stupid little you, sad and angry because of course, he couldn't love you back like that. Not when there's fucking Jiyeun in the way. Jiyeun or any fucking one else, right?

He's not making it easy for you. Everything he does is making your life harder. As if it wasn't enough on its own already.

Everything he does.

Like buying you these fucking toys you need a science degree to operate.

Sort of.

Maybe you don't need a science degree. Maybe a sober head would be enough to make a toy you've never used before function.

You don't have that at the moment. You're in your favourite pyjamas - an extra-large, greyed by time tee-shirt you stole from Jungkook back in high school - and panties - because it sounded like way too much effort to find shorts or joggings and slip them on. You've managed, somehow, you don't even remember doing it, to make your bed all cosy and welcoming, a perfect backrest made of your fluffiest pillows.

The little toy, this orange thing, sort of shaped like a fat bunny, a big, rounded body with two straight little ears, pointed upwards. It's supposed to be fully charged. It's been disinfected. It's just waiting for you to use.

Except it's the last one Jungkook had bought for you, you didn't get to use it yet, to even turn it on once, nor read its instructions. And here you are, past two am, trying, with your sloppy brain, your blurry eyes, and your impatient cunt, to understand how it works. There's an app linked to it. This much you got from the big, unmissable QR code occupying the first page of the three-page long manual that your eyes won't read.

You picked up your phone, went through the violent burning of your eyes when the screen lit up too close to your face, scanned the code, installed the app and here you are, stuck.

The app won't let you turn the fucking toy on. There's a message that keeps coming up every time you try to link the app to the toy. But the message is written in grey, on white, and you can't see shit and you don't have the patience to decrypt it. Maybe if you close it, and try running it again, and try scanning the code again, and just click on the button that appears under the message, whatever it says, maybe it'll work.

Except it doesn't. After a certain number of times (keeping up with the counting is another thing you can't do well right now) the app keeps on being a bitch. Keeps being difficult and reluctant, and unwilling to let you fucking get off and go to sleep.

You're on the verge of tears.

Why would it be so fucking difficult to make a fucking sex toy work?

Why?

You're so annoyed and impatient and angry now and it's all Jungkook's fault anyway.

You can't try to go to sleep, no matter how tipsy you are, because your brain is filled up with this asshole and won't let you alone. You can't fuck yourself to sleep because the toy you've picked - and for totally irrational reasons you feel like you can not switch to another one - won't let you and it's his. His fucking present. Fucking poisoned gift.

He makes everything worse. Everything difficult. And the more your eyes fill up with frustration tears, the more you're reminded that he's also the answer. He's the worst and the best part of your existence.

Of course, you'd call him.

"I could be sleeping." His voice is light and clear. He wasn't any close to be asleep. He's probably gaming or something. You're so thankful for his voice, the lovely thing, the comforting thing, that you don't even get mad at his aforehand teasing.

"Jungkook-" It's not a call of his name. It's a whine, almost a lament at this point. Tiny high tone, overly dragged vowels. Something like Juunggooo, and he must recognize the tone straight away because he starts laughing in your ear. You bite on your bottom lip hard, almost draw blood, squeeze your fist over your heart, as if it could help it handle it better.

You love him, you love him, you love him.

"Went out with the girls?" You hum as an answer. "Had a little too much fun, sweatheart?"

"No fun at all."

He's laughing again. His sly, mocking chuckle. He's too himself for you to get mad at him. He's too cute when he sounds boyish and happy like that.

"No fun?" He's having fun, it's hearable. It might be because you sound like a dumb, whiny kid. "Why is that?"

"Just cause." He hums like he understands. You hear mockery in it. He sounds a bit distant. As if he's not totally paying attention, as if you're really a four-year-old kid rambling some non-sense after school and their parent just barely pretends to be interested. "Junggooo, I'm trying to have my fun now but your thing is being mean to me."

"What thing?" He's definitely doing something else. He speaks a bit slow, you can picture his gaze far from you. And of course, it'd be, he couldn't even see you even if he tried. It's still vexing. He really doesn't want you to have him all for yourself. Why not fucking Jimin?

"The orange bunny you got me." You explain patiently, pouting a bit. You try your best not to have your vexation be too loud but it's hard. "I tried the app but it won't let me."

"The orange-" You hear it when the gears click. He even gasps a bit. You kind of brought it up out of nowhere when you accommodated him with your constant complains and fights pretty much each time he wanted to talk about this subject. And here you are, opening up a conversation on one of them. You kind of get where the shock is coming from. "Oh, the Gala thing." He even knows its name. "What- How isn't it working?"

"The app says I'm too drunk to use it." You quetch, glaring at the toy laying flat on its back next to you. The asshole.

"The app says what?"

"Jeon Jungkook! Are you even listening to me?" Hysteria was to be expected. Because here you are sad and drunk and horny and highly frustrated and it seems he keeps making you repeat everything. And of course, he would because he can't give you his undivided attention now, can he? Because he's not a generous slut like Park Jimin, he's a useless prick. And if he keeps being one, and he keeps upsetting you, you promise to yourself, as an act of self-love and self-respect, you'll tell him he should be better, he should be more like Park Jimin.

"I am, baby, but I'm confused."

Except he doesn't need any bettering, does he?

It's like he's heard your thoughts. Like somehow, even with the distance separating your two apartments, he's been able to read them directly on the lines of your heart. He knows what you need, the soft and gentle and tender Jungkook who takes care of you, the one that doesn't show often, especially now that you don't really go out and get pissed off drunk together, now that you don't expose the sad episodes you might have to him in fear of being precisely confronted to this perfect torture. Maybe he heard your mind calling Park Jimin's name too many times and he tries to ensure his position. You almost tell him not to bother. That it was just a taunt, it's always him, just him, will ever be.

"What does the message say?"

"That I'm too drunk and stupid to use it."

"I don't think that's what's written, baby."

"But-" You're seriously going to cry in a second. You don't even know from what. The app really succeeded in hurting your feelings by not working for you and he keeps calling you baby, it makes your whole inside boil and scorch like a puddle of lava. "It's invisible letters, how am I supposed to read exactly?"

"If you can't read maybe you should just go to bed for now, hm? Figure it out tomorrow."

"No, now." Full brat mode is on. You know if only he was sitting next to you, you would have raised a hand to pinch him right on the back of his upper arm -where it really stings. It works usually. You don't hurt him, the guy is basically made of muscles, he's the kind of work out junkie that's enjoying the pain. He wouldn't fucking mind your tiny attempt of an attack, no matter the amount of anger and frustration powering it.

By telephone though, it's even harder to make him do something. Possibly undoable. The only weapon that you have is your annoying screeching voice. "You fix it! You bought this shitty thing so you fix it."

"I forgot how rude you get when you're drunk." He's still making fun of you. Not taking you that seriously.

"Jungkook, I'm seriously going to cry." The worst part is that you mean it. If regular menaces won't do, surely affection blackmailing should be more effective.

"Don't cry, it's fine. I'll check. Don't hang up."

As if. You did not plan on hanging up. Ever. You've decided.

It's too nice, cuddled up in your bed, with his voice, smooth and soft, saying words that you really like, like baby, in your ear. You've decided this moment won't ever stop.

"Junggoo-"

"One second, baby." You don't have one fucking second. You don't have any fucking second to spare him. When he's made you horny and lonely and longing for so fucking long. Why would you spare him any more? He takes too long. The time he takes, you prophet, will precisely be the time your vagina will need to dry out entirely.

Even his soft voice calling you baby won't serve to make you wet again.

That's a lie.

It makes you groan. Asshole, asshole, asshole.

"Oh." Your ears perk up. He's back with you, his voice closer than before, it seems, when he starts explaining, a hint of guilt shadowing his tone. "Sorry, it's my fault."

"Of course, it is." You mumble, face deep in your pillows. "Jungkook! Everything's your fault, always." You're probably being unfair. Or maybe not. Is he responsible for making you fall for him or are you to blame for doing so? Turns out, it doesn't really matter, because he doesn't even pay attention to the blatant, telling, honest truth you've just spurred.

"When I received the package I tried it once."

"Tried?" Did he really? The cute little bunny-shaped thing you'd dismissed earlier, cursed at and threw daggers at suddenly looks different to you. You want to pick it up and maybe place a kiss on the top.

"Wait- Not like that! I didn't actually try it! I don't have a fucking clit, what-"

"You just said that!"

"I meant, I tried turning it on and linking it with the app, just to see how it worked. Like the options on the app."

"Oh." Makes more sense.

"Anyway, it's not working for you because I used my email with it and you can only have one." So many words. God. "I have to invite you. Or delete my account and then you make one with your QR code."

You turn into the whiniest, most irritating little thing then. Just a jumble of dramatic cries, something almost sorrowful because your issue appears impossible to deal with. It's not that complicated. He explained it. Too many words, too much thinking, too much paying attention, too much to do and too much delay. How does he expect you to do it when you can't even read the invisible font of the app?

"Fucking invite me then."

"Watch your mouth." It makes you roll your eyes. It's not the first time he says that. He says with this menacing growl at the end. Like he means it. Like he's really threatening you. But no matter how far you go, no matter how many times you curse at him, he never acts on it. You want to tell him, you almost do, to stop promising you things he won't ever give you. There's a ping coming from your phone. With a bit of a struggle, you manage to put the speakers on, so that he doesn't leave too far whilst you take a look at the message. A link to click on. Not that hard, it's bright blue, unmissable. It leads you back to the bitchy app.

Now it's all nice to you. It lets you enter, presents even a picture of your own toy, congratulates you for being linked to it and to Jungkook's account. Of course, it would. Now that it knows you're friends, now that he's in the thing, this bitch of an app is being nice.

There are a lot of symbols, every-fucking-where. Some wavier than others. One is shaped like a music note. Some are just little constellations of dots. You click somewhere, just to try and see if anything happens and it does.

Suddenly, the bunny is brought to life and starts purring furiously on the bed. It startles you, looks a bit intimidating. It sounds angry and complicated with all of these fucking options. At least the other toys he's gotten for you had at most two buttons, one to turn it on and off, and the other one to regulate the three levels of intensity.

You might actually need a science degree to use that. Simply to adjust it so it's not attacking you when you turn it on.

You press another button. The setting changes instantly. It starts vibrating in a jerkier way instead of one straight line of frequency.

Tentatively, you grab it, sort of unimpressed and dubious as to the way this would feel good on you. You've already grown grudges against it. It needs to impress you, prove to you that it's worthy of the effort and of you even bringing it to your precious temple.

It sucks at convincing you. You've brought it to your panties and tee covered crotch, pressed it there, waiting, and it doesn't do much. It vibrates. Weirdly. It stops and goes again, in a pattern you don't understand and it doesn't do much for you. Doesn't turn you on, doesn't make you wet. Doesn't stimulate in any positive way.

You reach for your phone with one hand, trying to keep the other one holding it against you, and it's here that the whole thing fucks up for the last time you can tolerate.

How are you supposed to fucking do that?

Don't they understand that? The people that make those fucking things? That they're going to be used mostly by single people, with a single pair of hands? How are you supposed to manage holding it up where you need it, whilst simultaneously, hold your phone up (everyone fucking knows holding a phone up with one hand, and tap on the fucking screen, especially laid in bed, is impossible and the worst fucking idea one could have - except if getting a black eye is the project) and control the intricate dashboard.

"For fuck's sake!"

"What is it?" Jungkook is sighing heavily in your room. And for a second, you're startled almost off of your own bed. You managed to forget he was even still here, on the other line, apparently waiting patiently for- for what exactly? Maybe for you to wish him goodnight and hang up. You literally forgot he was here. You were about to get yourself off -if only this shitty thing wasn't so shitty- whilst he was still here on the phone.

Why doesn't it mortify you?

"How am I supposed to use my phone and the thing at the same time? Why- How? Jungkook!"

"Stop saying my name like that!" You don't ask because you know exactly how you're saying it. There's no proper balance in your tone tonight. Either you're whining his name like a desperate brat, either you're pestering it like a disappointed, aggravated mom.

"I'm going to cry." You say again, lying this time. You've already started. It's not a lot yet. Just a puddle of tears, in each of your eyes that are just about to spill, and the prickling sensation at the tip of your nose, the latter has already starting sniffling uncontrollably.

"Why?" He sighs again. This time, it's gentler. He might have just found the key to the secret safe holding the very last drops of indulgence he hides deep inside his kind heart. "Baby, the app is really for couples."

"But I'm not a couple, I just wanna cum."

"Y/N-" He chokes on your name. "There are buttons on the toy for you to use. You don't have to use your phone, okay?"

"You're lying."

"Why would I be lying? Look! There are fucking buttons."

There are, indeed. But they suck, you think. You do try them. Pressing on them while you stretch your arms out to keep the bunny's ears close to your covered clit. It's so much work. You don't get it. The buttons are hard to press on, when you manage to activate the little monster, it just jabs against your centre, falls over from your hand. You hate the jerking motion, try to change it because clearly, it won't do. It doesn't work. The buttons suck, the toy sucks and Jungkook is cursing at you instead of helping.

"What do you want me to do? Baby, I'm- Just go to bed."

You hate that he's telling you to go to bed, again. He's probably right. You're being a pain, an embarrassing one at that. You can't just go yet, though. First of all, the very reason you called in the first place, for him to make it so you can fuck yourself to sleep, has not been effectively resolved. And on top of that, the very resolution you took earlier, the one of never hanging up, of never drawing a period to this moment, won't let you.

"This one sucks ass."

"It doesn't." He sounds calm, a bit quiet, tone low and collected. You wonder if he'd dropped whatever he was doing, whatever distraction and laid in bed like you, to listen and talk to you only. That would be nice. You're annoying as hell, poor him, he deserves better, but you're thankful for him.

"It's stabbing, how can it be nice?"

"You just- I don't even know why I'm arguing with you. You're drunk."

"Am not, you are."

He scoffs, doesn't bother insisting. He exhales deeply. You sigh as deep. Your lids are heavy. Your brain is fuming too. Your head feels fuzzy. You could sleep right now. You might make a terrible night. You might have nightmares. You might wake up in a few hours, hot and very bothered, frustrated and on edge. There's a little ping messing with an edge of your eyebrow. You know it'll grow into a headache soon.

"Junggoo..." You whimper as if he could help you. As if he's the key to this headache, to lock it away, along with the rest of your tormented feelings.

"You're tired, baby." He comments. You would bite if you were in front of him. He really wants to send you to bed. "Just go to sleep."

You should. Given that you need a good five minutes to find the energy to open your mouth and mumble, "Don't wanna."

"Then what is it that you want?"

"Told you."

"Hm?" You're not saying it again. You could fall asleep right now. With his slow breathing in your ear. It sounds so lovely. Feels like you've never been this nicely enveloped. It's like those ASMR or lo-fi music compilation videos on YouTube. The ones with the short scene, often animated, playing on the screen. It's instant peace, instant chill, purely quiet, greatly pleasant. You love these sceneries. You even have a few printed on your wall. They are great to look at and try to project in, because it seems you could never create this feeling, this atmosphere in real life.

But you've reached it. Now. The perfect peaceful land. With the perfect soundtrack coming through your phone. You're comfy and warm, it's almost as if he was actually there with you, wrapped behind you, stroking your hair. God, you wish he was there stroking your hair and kissing the top of your head. But he's not here. And why? He should be here. If he can be on the phone with you, when he used to come over to make sure the blanket is nicely tucked under your chin, why can't he be here? Life's so unfair.

"What was that?" He's probably referring to the big loud thump, throwing his toy to the ground made. It's not its fault. Even if it hurt your feelings, it's not responsible for him not being yours. Or maybe it is. He wouldn't give you toys if he were yours. He wouldn't need them. That's probably why Jiyeun doesn't like them. Because she wants him to be all that's pleasuring her. The lucky lucky bitch.

"Your stupid toy."

"Don't- do you know how much it cost?"

"Never told you to buy it."

"Sure, but don't break it! I promise it's good. You can't-"

"It stabbed me!" You accuse, petty.

"You- are insufferable." He sounds about done. Except he's not because he seems to want to prove you wrong, still. The toy on the ground starts shaking back to life. Curiously, you roll on your belly, throw a glance to the ground. It's stirring, moving around slowly, getting closer to you as if it's trying to hop back up on the bed. "Pick it up."

You do as you're told. It's vrooming lightly, quieter than you expected. You can hardly feel it in your palm. The movement more noticeable from the timid sound than by the intensity.

"Oh. It's nice now." Maybe it does have a conscience. It's being all sweet and mellow because the remote is in Jeon Jungkook, international heartthrob's hands.

"See?"

It's really gentle. It turns cute. With its bright orangy-red shade, its two cute ears and its belly, a bit domed to allow a better grip.

Your hand has a mind of its own. If he were to ask about it, to demand an explanation, even when you'll come later, and wonder mad and revolted and half dying of embarrassment, what the fuck came over you, you'd blame it all on your hand. The appendix and its own personal free will are bringing the thing back to your crotch. "You can switch the intensity, it was just at the highest before." You're hardly aware of Jungkook still talking in your ear. The phone on speaker is still laying on the pillow next to you and he's selling it to you, while demonstrating, as if he's signed a sponsorship with the brand. It could be funny but you don't really care, more curious about The Gala and finally getting to know it.

Soon enough you realize that two layers of clothing, no matter how thin, are too much. You lift the hem of his tee, exposing your panties and the lines of your mound, showing through the tissue. It makes sense then, the shape of the thing. It has those two straight ears, or poles, with enough space in between, to tuck your clit comfortably. If you'd like. And you're not sure it won the privilege just yet.

For now, it'll have it but still over your panties. They're so flimsy that really the fitting isn't too far from its initial conceptualized use. "And the modes- see," It's jerky again. It goes for a couple of beats very quick short pulses and then there's a long, monotone one until the pulses come back again. You don't like that one. It's gentler than the one from earlier, that tried to attack your clit with an angry strong beating though. "You can just switch. If you don't like the fast pulses, you don't have to use it. You just try it out." You guess he's right. You just have to try it, tame it. Learn its functions and let it learn you. Probably. Sounds like a lot of work though. The other ones were really straight forward. Good, excellent for some - special shout out to the clit hoover, which is not actually vacuuming but blowing air, which made you cum so fast and so hard in the very first two minutes of trying it. You'd turn it on and it'd do the job. Next to your ear, rambling like a radio you'd forget to turn off in another room, Jungkook is explaining how there are dozens of preset patterns and an infinite amount of slots for personal creations.

It's okay. Sounds like it would do the job. You can already tell how you'll use it if you ever decide to give it a second chance after tonight. Pressed tight against your button, turned a bit higher, in a very basic, very classic constant monotone vibration.

He's switched it to another stabbing like pulsing, very fast and aggressive, you can tell they meant to imitate the pattern of a good pounding but it does little to nothing to your excitation. Really all it does is make your eyebrows frown and your premise of a headache is back. "Hate that one."

"Change it." Kindly, he complies. Another one. You can't really identify it. Maybe a slower thrusting. It's better than the last one simply because it doesn't nearly hurt. Doesn't do much good either. But maybe it's not doing much over your panties though therefore curiously, with eyebrows furrowed now in concentration, you lift the waistband up with a finger and slip the bunny under it. Tentatively, you try to set it nicely where it should be resting, your clit out in the open, hugged tightly by the two ears replacing your lips. It's kinda nice. Barely though.

"So is-"

"Wait, turn it up a bit. I can't even tell what that's doing." You mumble maybe a tiny bit petty, a bit bad faith remaining from the bad impression the toy gave you. It's not that you want to hate because you've decided you would. It's more intricate than that. You're too tipsy to even try and explain that though.

"That one is-" After a while, doesn't do much. The higher setting, you suspect he hasn't gotten up a lot, hardly helps. It does vibrate but it doesn't seem to reach enough, your clit hardly feels anything. Your electrical toothbrush from your horny teenage years used to do a better job at being a vibrator -and this even over your jeans.

You're this close to throwing it to the ground again and give up on it, once and for all. Jungkook would need to understand. It's not because he spent a lot on it, it's not because that strange lady he keeps mentioning insisted on its good, that you are forced to appreciate it. You don't see the fucking point of this one. It does look cute and expensive but is pretty much useless. No one needs a pretty, expensive but awful friend.

"It sucks."

For a few seconds, he doesn't say anything. You consider that he might have even hung up. But then, in the quiet, his voice too serious for him not to have taken what you said personally breaks out. "You're mean."

"I think- I think it's a good opportunity to decide- uh..." The toy is still active in your panties, under your palm. The realization slowed your process of thought for a second but the bigger conclusion that it brings is that really, it sucks. So bad you even forgot it was still on -and it's not you being too drunk to have a fully, 360 awareness of your body, honestly. "To decide collectively that you need, you have to stop buying me those."

"They're not all bad! You loved the other ones!" He accuses, apparently not up for the collective decision. You are probably made of confusion at this point. How many more does he feel the need to get you? Is it that great, that gigantic, that tragic of a frustration that he developed by his girlfriend not liking these that he feels the need to bury you alive with thousands of those? The secretive shelf at the bottom of your dresser already holds little to no place left for another pretty box. And as to the satin bag you use to store the toys themselves, in your bedside table's drawer, you can't even close it anymore.

"When have I ever said that? We talked about one, I said it's fine."

"That's not what you said." Honestly, right now, you have no idea what you said. You know that you didn't find great easiness in talking about them. You've never mentioned any and he never did either, apart from the very first one. You did say something positive about it, you think you can recall. "I don't listen to you anyway because I know how bad of a liar you are."

"Well great. Blatantly admitting you don't care about my feelings-"

He bursts out in laughter. You might be a little bit of a drama queen right now. The hand that is not holding the bunny against your mound -for reasons you don't care to address to yourself, probably for you being so lazy that it feels more like an effort to change your hand's doing, take out and put away the toy, rather than just leave it there quiet and not really bothering- did reach for your chest, in a very theatrical embodiment of an offence.

"That's not what I said, you brat."

"That's what I heard though."

"I said I don't trust your mouth when the rest of you is saying something else entirely." You roll your eyes. Hopefully loud enough for him to hear it on his side of the call. "It's my new passion." He starts, giggling like an idiot. "I won't stop for as long as orgasms will look this good on you."

Oh. My God.

Is he allowed to say that? Is he allowed to say shit like that with the most calm you've ever heard anyone speak with? Like it's normal. Like it's a simple fact. Like the word orgasm in itself isn't so foreign in his mouth. Somehow he makes it sound incredible, so delicious you feel the first proper impulse to your pussy.

"You've never seen it." You counter, uneasy, feeling somehow unbalanced and unprepared against what is probably a simple conversation to him but a real personal attack with too great of weapons to you.

"I've seen the aftermath. I told you already." You wish he'd be more explicit. His words are confusing. They're not telling enough. They can be so much, they might not mean anything. He speaks softly, tranquilly, almost whispers in your ear. It's simply late. It's more appropriate, it feels, to speak quietly like that. It's one of those midnight talks.

He wouldn't know whenever he is seducing you. He's doing it constantly without meaning to. It's just him being himself and you being too weak for him. How could you make out his intentions now?

"You really-" The toy twitches in your hand. He clicked on the switch button of his app again. You're not sure why. From the way he speaks, he might not even have realised. He might be playing with the thing, mindlessly, the way he does when he picks at the skin of his fingers when he talks. He must be because he's still in his own head, talking while the thing, the barely interesting thing, turns into something else. Entirely. It's a wave-like pattern. Growing from pure stillness to a slow, growing vibration that ends in an intense climax. You gasp. He doesn't seem to hear. "You really don't want me to get you any more?"

The second wave hits. "Oh- God."

"I mean- I thought, we were- that it was okay." The sensation is incredible. For some reasons, a technology you don't fucking understand, you wouldn't fucking understand now, every single build hits insanely hard. Each time as intense if not better. You're so close to moaning. If you haven't really taken a second to realize what you were doing, actually using the toy with him on the phone, without him even knowing, somehow you know you need to remain quiet. You can't moan out loud. You sigh loud though. You have to. "I swear with you it's so hard to tell-" It's so hard to keep quiet and the realization brings a grin to your face. You're not that vocal usually. Sometimes you are, with some of the surprisingly good sessions Jungkook's presents have been offering you. But it was conscious. It was you enjoying, wanting to build a bigger pleasure, make it more sensational, it turned you on a bit, you had to admit, to hear yourself. The pleasure the toy is bringing you right now is indescribable. The more you leave it pressed to your clit, the more you feel the heat grow. You know it's already too much. You hiss and sigh, and have to bite back moans each time the high top of the wave comes. It's too much and feels like not enough.

The greedy you would want the final hit of the wave to last longer than those very few seconds. Long enough to bring you there, make you fall over the top of the hill. But it's a teasing setting. Probably programmed specifically for overstimulation. You squirm and bite back whines each time it comes, flinch and have to fight to not tear the ears away because you know the sensation is a lot to handle, too much stimulation, yet you're already addicted, unable to act on the very fair, logical, and sensible decision you should make. You shouldn't even be pleasuring yourself with him on the fucking phone.

"Are you okay?"

Jungkook asks, after having stopped talking altogether for a minute too long but it's not like you were really in any state of mind to acknowledge it.

You don't think he's noticed yet. From the noise, hopefully little, that you were making, at most, he should be able to hear some sort of short breathing, for all you know, he might think nausea is visiting from all the alcohol you've consumed and you're heaving, on the verge of throwing up.

"You're not feeling well, Y/N?" It's his concerned tone. The serious one. The one he uses whenever there's no skip button to the conversation. Usually, it leads to him coming over to take care of you like he's your mother. Which sounds great in theory but doesn't always apply wonderfully in practice.

Sometimes you don't want him to see you looking green and gross from fever sweat; sometimes you just want to be alone and recover on your own without having him watching so dramatically concerned over your shoulder. And now, you wouldn't want him to burst in with your hand still in your panties, a sweaty, bothered, horny mess for him to be left shocked and possibly disgusted by. Maybe disgusted is a big word. Or maybe it's not. How inappropriate is it to masturbate with an unknowing friend on the other end of your phone? Is it even legal?

"I'm fi-fine, Jungkook." You lie through gritted teeth. You can't possibly be fine. You've put yourself in the worst situation and you still don't do shit to get out of it. Something is very much wrong with you.

The logical thing to do, the sensible one, would be to either end the conversation, hang up and then eventually finish yourself; or else, take the thing out of your panties, possibly throw it the further away from you and keep the conversation on if that's what you wish to do.

It would certainly not be to ask for him to turn up the setting because you now really much want to come.

"You don't sound fine."

"But I am."

"How much did you drink?"

"Not that much, Guk." He makes you frown, almost rips a curse out of you. Because all this serious talk is diverting you from your pleasure. It's not like you're going to have fucking alcohol poisoning. You didn't drink that much, honestly. The drinks were not even that heavy, except for the two disgusting shots your friend forced in your hands. "Seriously, I'm good." The building up pleasure has brought a new awareness to your brain, and honestly, you feel way more alert than before. You're far from drunk, no matter how much your behaviour seems to contradict that. You're good. You'd be perfect if he'd shut up or if he'd start half seducing you as he does. Maybe he could talk about your nipples again and what you should do with them.

He did say that. Now that you come to think of it. On top of buying you those toys, he did guide you as to what to do with some of them, how you could use them. They were not his direct advice, they were the lady's but still, he felt the importance to share them with you.

"If you are then just answer the question, how much?"

"Okay in a sec but can you turn up the toy's intensity, please?"

"Turn what?" You almost bark then. The whistling f of a very practical, very useful word you shouldn't yell at him rings to your own ear but you're strong enough to hold back. "Ah the thing, yeah, sure." What a sweetheart. A bit slow, but lovely. Your whole body contracts violently when the newly powered wave hits, the beginning of a moan escaping because it's so good, it's almost painful. "I had like two shots of-" Ah. "Something. I don't know what it was, just-" Fuck. "Gross as- uh." Holy shit, that's good.

You can't believe you've judged this intricate, revolutionary technology so bad before. "And then, like, a martini or two, barely and- and-" You're so fucking close. Each time feels like the final ascension except you get back to square one whenever the vibration drops back to stillness too quick to your liking. It's pure torture. And having to make a fucking list of your consumption that's so far back in your brain right now, especially when you know that it's pointless, is not helping.

"Wait-"

"Jungkook-" You don't know if you're begging him to stop thinking now, not get to the conclusion his logical train of thoughts is trying to lead him to, or if you're begging him to help you cum, maybe be nice to the bunny which only seems to be kind to him and make him make you cum.

"Why did you ask me to turn the thing up?" He already knows the answer. You can hear in his tone that he already knows. And frankly, he's a dumb ass for not realizing sooner. "No, you're joking. You wouldn't- not when I'm talking to you."

"When if not then?" Maybe frustration has brought you some bravery, or maybe pleasure has burned the very last remaining functioning cells of your brain.

"Uh?"

It's probably gone too far now. It still feels like he owns the key to the phenomenal orgasm you can smell coming. If you were to hang up now, you wouldn't even know how to make this shitty thing work. And it's not enough. Still.

Shit.

You're definitely wailing in a second now. The next sound you mean to conceal is a sob. Why can't you reach it? And how can you be so hyper-focused on it, it doesn't seem to matter what's going on with Jungkook.

You've gone crazy. Or perhaps you're drunker than you thought yourself to be. The last wave hits differently. It's straight-up overstimulation when you haven't even come once yet. Doesn't feel very nice but at least, it's the push you need to finally lift it up a bit, make a pause and eventually show some consideration to Jungkook.

"So you've been arguing with me, saying it sucks when really you were-"

"It did suck before you changed the setting." You assert again. Because nagging is the thing you're most talented at doing, apparently.

Silence ensues. In the defeating quiet you realize even the discreet humming of the toy has stopped. He's turned it off.

Something akin to shame is finally showing the tip of its nose. It's been fucking late to the party, you note with a growing, you know to become, devastating mortification. Exhaustion and tipsiness are keeping your conscience quite numb but you don't give a chance to sober-you who'll wake up tomorrow with this awful incident engraved in her memory.

Why can't he say something? Essentially, it's his fault. It's always his fault. He makes you feel things you shouldn't and make you do things you wouldn't. You can't think properly. You're being fucking chaotic and he's responsible for that. Even you know it's reaching. You're not that petty and mean.

In a whisper, dipped in sincerity and shame, you apologize. "Sorry, Jungkook."

"For what?" Because he can't let you off the hook that easily, can he?

"Are you seriously going to make me say it? You know why!" Here comes angry-you again. Getting mad and rude for no rational reasons, and here, awfully unfairly. He really deserves better.

"No, I-" You may have broken him. Jungkook has never been the most eloquent person. Between lisping and stuttering and stopping mid-sentence to let you complete for him his missing words, he's never been the best at talking. But even for him, even knowing his history, you find him pretty affected. Possibly all messed up. There's not even the hint of sensible thought. A void filled with "uh" and "tsk" and lips smacking and hums, it's like he's ceased to function. Maybe if you just hang up and from then on, just pretend it's never happened, both of you can get away with the situation. It's an option.

"Jungkook, seriously, I'm sorry. Let's say it was a fucking, uh, drunk lapse of judgment on my part and- yeah, never mention it again."

"Yeah, okay." He whispers after a while. He sounds really shaken up. "But it's fine, I'm not mad, I'm just-"

"Bamboozled?" You suggest, heart constricted, not ready to joke yet but so desperate to obtain at least a smile from him to prove yourself that it's okay and you didn't fuck it up too bad.

"Bamboozled, indeed." He chuckles, a bit breathless on the phone. You can't help the big sigh that escapes you when relief rushes through you. He doesn't sound too upset with you. "I'm really not mad, I just wouldn't have- I wouldn't have expected this, from you."

Of course not. It makes you cringe. You bury your face in your pillow and release the most intense quiet cry you could manage.

"Sorry." You say again, quiet. Your eyes are prickly. This night is such a mess. You can't make out how you're feeling. It's like your reactions and your reflections all come to their own rhythm, inappropriately, unmatching each other's and certainly unmatching the current situation.

"Stop. And don't-" If you're decomposing yourself progressively, at least, he seems to be getting back to his senses. Voice clearer and more present. "You sound so upset now. Are you embarrassed?" It's a smile you hear in his words. You don't have the right to be mad at him but honestly, you would have hit him in the ribs if he were in front of you.

"Is it even necessary to ask?" You grumble face half suffocating still in the pillow. Oh, here's another solution. Suffocating yourself to death.

"I think so. I mean I bought them and I turned it on for you, I should have- I couldn't have known but I should have. It's fine honestly."

"It's not."

Stop pretending, you fucking liar. Even if he acts quite calm, nonchalant, you can hear a very slight difference to his usual tone. He's not sincerely, honestly, a hundred per cent okay and chill with the situation. He's faking casualness but he's not entirely it.

"It is."

"It's not. I'm just gonna die, Jeon." That makes him laugh even though you're only half-joking. You don't know if it's possible to die from embarrassment. One thing is for sure, if it's possible, you won't survive the night.

"No, you're not, baby. It's fine." Jeon Jungkook is the sweetest, needless to say. You should hang up. Apologize again, hang up and pray for him to forgive you and eventually forget all about it. But you remain on the phone because you're so desperate for his approbation and his love and any sign of reassurance from him. And he's giving it to you. When he could probably have a little rest of his own. If it's awkward for you, you can't even imagine for him. But he accepts to stay and reassures you. What a cutie. "Did you cum?"

You choke on your own saliva. More than taken aback, actually shocked. How dares he?

Or can you say that? Can you act offended when you've just done what you did? In any case, how are you even supposed to answer that question?

"You- It's just that I turned it off and we- I was just wondering if you did..." That sounds about right. That sounds like Jungkook being curious and wording this curiosity without necessarily anticipating how you'd take it. It must be part of his plan, his 'let's be the closest, let's share everything' plan he mentioned a few months back. You're not ready, won't ever be if that's what it'll look like.

You are the problem. Apparently, you can get yourself off when the poor boy is on the phone with you unbeknownst, but you still have a hard time talking about sex with him. "...because it sounds awful if you did not."

And it is. It is horrible. You'd imagine that after getting caught, feeling so embarrassed and guilty, your cunt wouldn't still be quivering and begging for you to pay attention to it again. But you've taken it so far. Made it discover new incredible sensations of course it'd still be obsessed with it and with the climax the toy teased it with.

You groan in your pillow again. Not sure how he'll interpret it. Not sure how you want him to interpret it. Should you just talk to him? He could hang up too. If really he didn't want to partake in this mess he could hang up, he could talk about anything else.

"Listen, you don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, you know that." That's reaching. You want to tell him that he can't ever say that to someone, he can't ever become anyone's mat to wipe their dirty shoes on. He should be the one feeling awkward, being mad at you, except he reassures you again. "And when you just proceed on getting yourself off while I was talking- worrying about your fucking health..." He snorts before he can finish. "How dare you act coy with me!" He's just laughing too hard now, contributing wholeheartedly to the burning flush on your cheeks. Well, you deserved it.

"Is that it? You're going to bring this up each time you'd want something from me?" You sound so upset, even to your own ears. It results in his laughter dying down pretty quickly.

"I think so, yeah." You don't add anything. You don't want to be rude. Still hope for any kind of magic word you don't even know that he could mutter to you and that'll help cure your heart and soul. Therefore you can't tell him goodbye and hang up. You wait for him to do it. Except he doesn't. It's late as fuck too. He might be working later today. Why isn't he hanging up? "If I'm talking about it, you should know that it's fine. I don't mind." An asshole and a cutie. "You okay, babe?"

The simple hum you tried to aim for turns into half of a whimper half of a moan. You're not okay. Any part of your being won't let you lie and pretend.

"Do you want me to turn it on?" For fuck's sake. "I'll hang up and leave it on so you just- it'll turn itself off when there's no battery left anyway."

"Jungkook." Your stern voice is a threat. It doesn't have to be further explained, he gets it.

"What?" He sounds aggravated. You can imagine him raising his hands to the skies, upset and losing patience as he's only trying to make it better for you and oh women are so complicated. Something like that. "Oh my God. Just get yourself off and feel better after."

"You don't tell me what to do." Childish but there's not much left of your brain. "Well, you don't even fucking know what to do with yourself right now. Am I right or am I right?" He whisper-yells back at you. Very mean.

"Asshole." It's a tiny whisper under your breath but you're certain he hears it even if he completely ignores it.

"Listen, since you can't even- how old are you, seriously?"

"Fuck you." Barely louder. You definitely know he's heard this time, but still, he decides to dismiss it. He's always been more productive than you.

"I'll turn it on and hang up. You take care of yourself like a big girl, alright?" He probably believes that you can't get yourself to ask for what you want aka a wild night with the fucking toy you can't get to work yourself. But it's not actually the case. Honestly. Now all you can think about -besides the whole very humiliating moment when he caught you in the act- is the way it kept torturing you, bringing you very high but never enough. It started to hurt at the end, brought impatient frustrated tears to your eyes. You don't even think you could finish with it.

Maybe it's inappropriate to seriously consider it. Maybe you won't ever learn your lesson.

Before you even get to word your refusal, the thing is on. It's on the same devilish setting as earlier. The merciless wave. Fuck.

"Don't! It's not- it won't even make me cum, stop it!"

"What? Why not?"

"I don't know the setting is weird." You start explaining through the thicker pout to have ever existed. You're really considering having him solve your climax. You've gone crazy.

"What's wrong with it? Tell me, I'll put on one you like."

Fuck.

You are doomed.

What are you supposed to do with a guy like this?

"I don't think there is." You can hear the frustration from his end before he even says a word. It's written in the stars that in a second he's going to bring it all up, the part when you got off and pester that you can't still be complaining about the fucking toy. "No, I mean it's- the one I liked, the last one you clicked on, it's like-" Fuck, you're really doing this. "A wave. You know? It grows crescendo but it always stops right before- right when it's really good. And I just couldn't- because the good part doesn't last long enough and, yeah."

"Wait, let me look." He sounds a bit further away from you then. He's logged back into the app, you can tell. And with his tiny "hm" and his "so...", he sounds the way he does when your computer is being difficult and he's trying to fix it because you won't pay a professional to do it when you have this nerd populating your entourage. "Ah. You want the high moment to last longer?" "Yes." You can picture him nod to himself, frowning his eyebrows and sucking his lips in the way he does when he's super focused.

"Like that?" You wouldn't know because the toy is lost somewhere, you can hear it but not see it. You ask him to wait for a second and it stops altogether. Doesn't make it easier to find it but it wasn't lost that far. Once you have it in your hand, you gulp, ashamed, not sure if you could ever play with this thing again. But the other guy on the phone doesn't seem to have his motivation falters. You're not the one telling him to try again, on his own, he executes.

It's hard to tell in your hand, the vibrating ears hugged tightly in your palm, if it's going to be satisfactory enough. If it's precisely the thing that was missing from earlier. It follows the pattern you asked him though. Still to a growing intense high that lasts for approximately a good ten seconds rather than the lame 2 seconds from earlier.

"I think so..."

"Okay then. You... mute yourself and then- Uh, no. I should mute myself so- or we both mute ourselves?" He's not really with you anymore. Lost in his own head amongst those seemingly very difficult questions. You don't even get where he's trying to get at. Wasn't he supposed to hang up?

"Why would you stay?"

"It's just- it's me doing it. There's no setting for what you want, it's me doing it. I have to draw the frequency on my phone."

"There's an option for that?"

"Yes. There's even one to have it follow audio!" He points out with way too much enthusiasm. He might have really found a new passion.

"Sounds like high tech."

"Yep."

"Sounds expensive as hell."

He laughs in the mic, snorts even before he brushes it off. Quite frankly, no matter what you'd have to say to him, he'd always do as he wishes. If spending ridiculous amounts of money on ridiculous things for ridiculous you is what he wants to do, he won't let anyone, not even you, tell him not to.

You don't know what to say, he's not saying anything either. He suggested something quite insane: he'd stay. While his finger would be drawing shapes on his screen to actively give you your pleasure, he'd stay on the phone with you. Maybe it's a bit hypocritical or ironical, how it sounds crazy to you now while ten minutes ago, you had no problem doing it without him knowing. That's probably the main issue here, him knowing. That changes everything.

"But if you stay-"

"We can't both mute ourselves because I won't hear if you ask me to change something or- so you, you just stay like that and I'll mute myself."

"Jungkook, you muting yourself won't change my awareness of you being here."

"But maybe you'll forget about it?"

"Jungkook."

"What?" He sounds contrite then. Like an upset child who's being argued with. He's trying so hard but you make it so difficult, it seems.

There's just one thing holding you back. Until now you couldn't quite pinpoint it. And it's hard to resolve an issue you can't name.

But it just hit you. His way of insisting while making it seem like he does it for you only, to help you out and doesn't necessarily find his part in the cake.

"Do you want to?"

"Uh?"

"You sound like- I don't know what you sound like. You're confusing. If you're just trying to give me a hand and solely that then hang up and I'll just- whatever."

"Oh."

"Of course, it makes no sense for you to do this for me and stay if you don't want to, I mean." He takes forever to answer. For a second, you even peek at your screen wondering if he didn't simply quit the conversation.

It's really all you need to know. If somehow, to some extent, he wants you or at least, wants to partake in this genuinely. You don't want it if it's just a bro hand. You can hardly live with what you've done if he's utterly uninterested. But if he does want it, even a little bit, you might be wrong but you feel like everything would turn out to be fine.

"It's not that hard of a question." You try again because it almost feels like he's forgotten you from how long he's remained silent. He had put you on the spot, in this very conversation too, so many times, you have the right to do the same to him, at least once. "Do you want to stay?"

He cracks up. It's the very hard kind of laughter. With the boyish chuckles, mixed with the squeaky intakes of air. The one that always brings a smile to your face and usually drags you along the fit.

You have no idea what it means right now. It's probably the least appropriate time for it to show up. Therefore instead of making you smile it only reinforces the headache slowly growing at your temple.

"Aah." He starts by exhaling longly. You can hear the grin fixed on his face. "Yes." Your heart trips in your rib cage. You should have guessed it but you couldn't have imagined this answer. And him laughing to tears like a fucking deranged infant doesn't help. "Shit, sorry." He apologized when the remnant of what sounds definitely like a giggle resonates in through the phone.

"What's so funny, Guk?" Your words don't match your tone. You're high under pressure, unsure of what's actually going on. Jungkook is not cruel, you've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't deliberately hurt you, wouldn't mess with you so bad, for so long, even for a great laugh. Still, you can't be convinced that he's sincere. Seriously, how could you? The dude won't stop fucking laughing.

"Nothing, I'm just- I didn't realize until you asked me the question that I wanted to." Oh. "I'm an idiot."

"Welp." Could have told you sooner but I thought you knew.

"Mean. And, uh," It sounds like he's tossing and turning in bed again. You bet he's just gotten the exact same position as before. He's like those cats that turn around in circles again and again until they settle for the initial spot. When he starts talking again, his voice is hardly a whisper, you assume he's holding the mic very close to his mouth. "I should ask you too. Do you want to?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it, moron." Patience has run thin. Now that you're reassured you don't have to be ashamed and embarrassed anymore, you can simply be annoyed as you get with him.

Honestly, you're still feeling abashed but he doesn't need to know that.

"Quit being mean. It's not my fault I'm slow." He says, faking deep pity and it does make you snort. "Okay, well..."

"Well, indeed."

"You're making this awkward!" You roll your eyes. Feels like you can sort this out. If you do take out the very blatant, scorching awkwardness, it's a very regular interaction between you. Sounds like any other day except in a second he's going to press a finger to his phone in hopes to make you cum.

"Your whole existence is awkward."

"Shut up. Let's just fucking start." He groans as if you're the one belating the initial step –you are but so is he.

"I don't have the fucking remote." He tells you to shut up again, and this time, when you hear him hum to himself when he's opening the app, there's a recognizable brushing noise falling directly in your ear.

"You put your earbuds on."

He doesn't answer but you're sure he's registered the question.

Fine.

If he doesn't want to give you an answer you'll just make up your own. Don't you put earbuds on to hear better? Just saying.

"Put the thing on."

"Oh my God, Jungkook-" You take back your own admission. He's the one, solely, all alone, making it painfully awkward. Sounding like a newly pubescent teen trying to initiate sex. "Could you be any smoother?"

"But-" He sighs. "Do you want me to?" How do you ask your best friend you've may have been in love with for officially a couple of months to please act like an ideal lover even if it's just very short-termed? He sounds willing. But asking is the most difficult part. "I can be- or do whatever you want, I just don't know-"

"I like it when you call me baby." Your whole face is scrunched up in a perfect picture of your intense embarrassment. Formalities need to get fucking out of the way and it's precisely what you've just tried to do. But holy shit, it's painfully embarrassing.

"Oh. Do you now?"

Here comes the smirk. Can't see it. Can hear it clearly. It's pretty much louder than his words even.

You want to tell him to forget it all. That it's not going to work if each fucking second he makes you feel like he's going to be using whatever you say or whatever you do against you later on. You decide to demonstrate exemplary patience, reminding yourself that he's not cruel. Admittedly.

Perhaps you're the idiot and it's all your fault. Because you've just admitted (without him even asking) that you like (and into these circumstances, that it turns you on) to have him call you baby. Thing that he does already every time he starts coddling you.

"Okay then." He startles you, clearing his throat. You wonder if he's as anxious as you are, or at least, a tiny bit nervous. For the most part, he doesn't seem like it. Then again, he's quite good at pretending.

It shows soon after when he starts again, this time with the gentle, soft voice he hardly ever uses with you. There's a tiny newcomer, a certain edge that gives it some firmness and that enchants you. That's exactly what you wanted him to be. "Put it on, babe."

You nod wordlessly, omitting that he can't see you and do as told. Slipping the toy under the waistband of your panties, guiding the ears aside your clit. There's a very faint buzzing coming from them. You barely feel it and you suppose it's just there to have you accommodate better.

"Are you still dressed?"

"It's just my panties and a big shirt." Your shirt you'd add if you had a bit more courage. You hope he's going to let you keep it.

"Take your panties off." The part of you who's his best friend wants to nag, tell him that maybe he should have asked that before demanding you place the toy on your cunt but you feel generous and merciful, and also desperate and tired of your orgasm being stalled for so long. "Are they soaked from earlier?" Okay, this shit's going to be hard. There's no coming back. Strangely, it's just now that it's really hitting you. Even if it's going well, there is no way, you'll ever forget his velvety smooth whisper saying those words. There's no way you're helpless cunt ever forgets.

They are, by the way. You don't even get how you've been able to keep them on and ignore the uncomfortable stickiness for this long. Just sliding them along your thighs feels disagreeable.

"Y/N." Sounds like you're getting scolded. And even if you particularly like the way he just said your name, with that same peculiar edge from earlier, a little sharper then, how are you supposed to answer that? "What did you say earlier? That it can't only be for you, is that right?"

"Yes." You admit sheepishly because now you're definitely getting scolded. It brings flush on your only newly temperate cheeks and you don't even hate it.

"Then I'll give you everything, I told you I would but I'll need you to give me some back. Can you do that?" He sounds so strict, how can you like it so much? You can literally feel the electricity along your spine, sliding down to go faint in the hot mess between your thighs and that's ridiculous. You hate being talked to that way, usually, probably because it's never him doing it. Jeon Jungkook might be your ultimate kink. And somehow, he figured it all out. That whatever he'd do would fit you perfectly well. Also, he might be turning like that because undeniably, you're a brat. "Can you?" He insists again because whilst you've been busy trying not to hyperventilate, he's been waiting for one answer.

"Yes. Yes, I can. Sorry."

"Don't apologize, it's fine." You should want to bite him. Why insist so much if it's to end up leaving you off the hook so easily? You know though, for a fact, awfully bothersome to your ego, that if he were in front of you presently, you'd give him puppy eyes and batting lashes, sad pouty lips and probably tend your neck to invite him to gently pat your hair. "Tell me, are your panties soaked?" "I think I ruined them..."

"You did, didn't you?" He's laughing a bit, kind of full of himself for some reasons. Maybe he knows that it's mainly his fault they ended up this way. Maybe he knows they are not the only pair fallen victim to simply the thought of him. "Was it worth it?"

"You're taking care of me so I'd say yes." A chortle. A purr that you interpret into something you like a lot. It sounds like he's taken your response for exactly what you wished him to. A tease. He makes your belly churns and twists, turns your nerves from your heart to your noggins haywire. The least he can allow you to do, the least you'd like to do, is for him to be affected by you.

It starts with a gentle buzzing. It's nothing much. Nothing at all, you'd say if you'd let your greediness and impatience talk. There's something else doing it for you, for now. Jungkook's breath, sort of heavy, slow, rocking you with warmth. Knowing he's here and here to please you; you're laid in bed, naked from the waist down, wet and about to make it all better thanks to him; the picture itself makes it all for you.

"How is it?" Jungkook asks after some time. It's been silent. You haven't said much, in fact, you haven't said anything yet. Not that ready to demand more, and not feeling enough for moans or whimpers or whatever to be stolen from you.

"Boring." You admit. "S'not what you were supposed to give me." Through a thick pout, you deplore.

It doesn't work. He doesn't care. He doesn't fucking care when he's playing exactly the role you've implicitly asked him to play. "Have you said please, even once?" You hate that he's virtually pinning you down with exactly what turns you on.

"I- Probably." You haven't said much. You haven't been so explicit, so telling simply because you couldn't, but surely, you said please. Didn't you?

"Not probably. You did not. And on top of that, you're complaining." He's figured out exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Therefore, as naturally as it came for him, you fit it your own role easily.

"I'm not complaining. I was just- pointing it out. Sorry."

"You can apologize a lot but you can't even say please. Not once." Well, fuck. You never thought that he could be mean. Awfully mean. You wished, when you let your mind wander there one too many time, a bit too deep, that he'd be like that. Sweet and soft and tender the way he is, always, but also, bad, kind of harsh. "Ask kindly, once."

"Jungkook-"

"I'll give you everything you want. Just once."

"Please, Jungkook." You know he's satisfied with what you offer him because you don't have to wait another second for him to give you precisely what you were waiting for. It's timid, follows the crescendo built you were looking for except it's not intense. It's the first step however it's incredibly effective. It feels as good as the first time. "Plea-please." Manifestly, it is the secret word, the passcode to your pleasure because the intensity you're craving for finally reaches you. It does in an electrifying peak, that lasts long, just like you asked, it's so good, the feeling so perfectly indulgent to your needs, maybe even too much, you squirm, part the little ears from your clit, hissing. "Shit, Jungkook!"

"Too much, baby?" The hypocrite, with his concerned tone, doesn't even take a break from activating the vibration, from keeping on building the intensiveness. You can tell it's he too, him really doing it live, as in it's not absolutely regular, the built sometimes takes longer, sometimes the volume stronger, other times weaker. It's undeniable, every minute of it feels different from the next, you can't even omit for a second that it's him doing it. And he's doing it so well.

"Per- fect, just- sensitive." You moan out. Back arching, right leg twitching. The next brush is particularly nice, goes so far you believe you might come on the spot. Now you definitely can't hold back even if you wanted to. The sounds that come out of your mouth, foreign to your own ears, are not even yours. They come straight from your body, straight from an excess of pleasure you try to deal with, to handle, when you clearly can't. You're alone, and it's you ultimately controlling the power on your own body, you can pull out, even slightly, every time it comes hard and strong and you ought to twitch uncomfortably. You wonder how it'd be if he were here with you. If he forgot just for a while that you were his best friend, the girl who used to be older and taller and has turned, with the years, into this tiny little thing because he just kept on growing and growing, sprouting like a fucking redwood, and now feels like he needs to protect and care for you. If he were there, and he could forget that, you bet, his present voice, heated, scorching, is telling you this, that probably, he'd hold you down, crush your body with his, hand pressing your thighs down and apart, and force you to take the pleasure in its entirety. You imagine him merciless, slipping sweet words in your ear, while he'd have you literally scream from overstimulation.

And then his voice, the perfectly alluring thing, concludes to let you know it won't happen like that. His voice will make you come.

"You sound so good." Especially, if he keeps saying shit like that, with this tone, soft yet strong and highly, terribly affected. He's breathing hot and heavy in your ears. Is he touching himself?

"Please, Jungkook." You implore, vainly, hips slowly grinding against the toy, pressed by your palm on your sensitive centre.

"Especially begging, 'sound so, so good." He's not touching himself. He sounds bothered, but not enough, he doesn't stutter like you do, his voice doesn't jump and dip, stops momentarily like yours does. Shit, you wished he would play with his cock. Fuck, you want to play with his cock. So fucking bad.

"Y-you like it?" You ask, not because you're curious to know, he's said it already, but because you won't ever get tired of hearing him say it, in all those different ways.

"I do, baby. I love hearing you." You can't help the curse that leaves your lips a bit harsh. You're so close. So so close. Eyes filled up to the brim, tip of your nose wet. How many times have you thought, already, that you were seriously going to fall over? "You gonna cum?"

"I can't-" You sob, whine. There's a tear spilling from your right eye. "It's too much." So attentive to your every word, the intensity drops drastically. It still buzzes, discreet, way more tolerable. Ironically, if you can now bear it, you know it's not enough to lead you to your climax either. "Help me, make me cum, Guk."

"Use your fingers." He's been nice, essentially, you can only be good to him. Without even having to think about it, you dip your fingers in the mess that is your cunt. Two fingers slip in between your lips too easily, you could add a third if only there wasn't the bunny taking a bit too much room, and your fingers were longer, and your hips not so twitchy. If Jungkook was here, if only he was here, he'd fit his two fingers and it'd be enough. You bet it'd be enough. You bet his pretty, long, tattooed fingers would stretch you so well and make you come in a heartbeat. "Fuck yourself with them."

It's so gratifying. Having him humming in your ear encouragements and compliments. He's sweet, sweet, sweet. Excellent with his voice. Fuck, he must be unreal with his fingers, with his mouth, with his fat cock.

Diligently, you drag your fingers in and out, it's only mildly agreeable when you're sopping wet, almost gaping. Until he draws on his phone the same magnificent pattern from before.

You wish it'd last longer. It's precisely what you needed, the ideal combination. Along with his words.

You know if you come he'd have to stop. He'll stop calling you baby, stop saying how sexy you are, use all those nasty words he never does and talking like that, with this voice, with this heat in his tone. It's a bothering thought at the back of your mind you have to actively push away.

There's nothing you can do when harshly, yet with a please, he demands you to cum.

You can feel your cunt, wide open from both your spread legs and the excitation, getting wet, growing soaked. You can actually feel it as it happens before you explode. Clenching violently around your fingers, spilling all over them, you might squeak and scream and moan his name continuously, you barely hear yourself through your ringing ears.

"Fuck, Jungkook..." You sigh. Laying there, boneless, hand dripping up to your wrist. He's chuckling. "Fuck."

"Feeling better?" You hmm in response. Words sound like too much effort right now. Your brain is working slow. Extremely slowly. There's a multitude of thoughts forming though, germinating from a strange ground.

One, in particular, does, enlarging ridiculously much next to the others. You could enjoy this luck. You could just bathe in the lovely, perfect haze. Accept that the sky is perfectly blue without a cloud, with even a rainbow somewhere. Maybe a double rainbow even.

There's a very, very dark, very, very large cloud invading your perfect sky though. And because tears, of another kind, have already located your eyes, the new ones fit in, mixing up with them and taking over them with utter ease. What the fuck have you done?

"Jungkook, I'm so sorry-" You start with a tremble in the voice. There's a fat lump in your throat.

"Why? What's going on, baby?" He's sweet as honey, back to his usual self, worried, and you're horrible.

"Your- I didn't even think about her and-" There's a sob bubbling out of your mouth. "It's not me. I didn't mean to-"

"What are you talking about?"

"Jiyeun." The taste in your mouth when you say her name, is unbearable. You know full fucking well you shouldn't say her name. You shouldn't be allowed to. How dare you. Spoil it when you spent way too long virtually getting in this guy's, who's someone else's boyfriend, pants.

"Dumbass." It makes you choke on your own sobs. "It's over. With her, I mean. We broke up." Ah. You want to ask a billion questions. Starting with "again?". Soon followed up by a "why didn't you say anything, dickhead?". You spent the whole fucking night, getting shit faced and spiritually crying in the club over a couple that does not even exist anymore. Then you'd ask for how long they are planning to be over. "For good, this time." You're barely drying up your fat crocodile tears when he calls you an idiot again, says something about how he's not that kind of guy and you should know it.

Feels better. The thunderstorm is gone.

Alcohol and horniness and hardcore loving are such a terrible combo you need to avoid.

"Cuddles." Tiredly, half-dead, but still alive enough to be greedy, to feel sensible, skinned and want him to give you more. "Come cuddle." He's late to answer, delays it as if you don't desperately need his response.

It's terribly quiet and still. The dark of the night seems even more sombre. He can fix everything if only he'd give you the answer you desire.

"You sure?"

"Always." You say, maybe too honest. He doesn't seem to mind, agrees with a snort.

"Alright."

He appears in front of you in the blink of an eye. Literally. That blink does last longer than usual. The orgasm may have crushed you. You close your eyes and when you open them back up, he's here. Standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, dressed in all black and oversized, as usual. You look up, eyes squinted, bothered by the light coming from the hallway. He's staring. Gaze brushing, from your head to your toes, seemingly slowing down when they reach your naked thighs.

"What?" You mumble, embarrassed, one hand sliding down just to make sure the hem of the shirt is covering your crotch. You didn't even put your panties back on. You may or may not have wiped yourself clean enough with the wet wipes wisely sitting on your bedside table -you thought about it really hard but you can’t remember if you actually did it.

"You never mentioned it was my t-shirt you were wearing." You shrug. You'd have a better come back if you weren't so tired and if it wasn't simply true. "Would have been nice to know." He says, kneeling down next to your bed. The latter is low, mattress barely raised from the ground and even when he's crouching down, he's hovering above you, looking down on you. "Easier to picture." He adds quieter the closest he comes to you. It's enough words to know who he is at the moment. In what form, what version of your Jeon Jungkook, has come to visit. It's the gentle one. The one whose voice doesn't raise, doesn't feel as animated as his usual one when he spends his time being a clown to make everyone laughs. The one that made you fall, the first time. Not exactly the one you had on the phone with you earlier and even if you like him, if you adore him in fact, you feel sort of uneasy, worried. He might be gone forever, this one.

Unless it is him. His hands reach forward, large and warm, they lie on your thighs. The fingers brush up a bit, to the hem of his shirt, and they stop there. He looks up from them, straight in your eyes, smiles, digs the tips in the meat of your thighs before he lifts you up, aiming for the border of your bed.

God. You hope it'll happen again. But differently. More in-depth. He'd be less dressed, he would manhandle you, before he'd do some unnamable things to you. But another day. One when you're not almost dead. When you feel hornier and less soft and desperate for direct comfort to your swollen heart. It could be tomorrow when you wake up. If he's up for it. Please God, make it so he's up for it.

Jungkook hops on the bed behind you, huffs comfortably, holding your cover by a corner to bring it up and over the two of you. He fits behind you too naturally for it to be the first time. He doesn't seem to mind that you're so underdressed, compared to the other times, that you still have some remnant of your orgasm on you, that it's different. His arm sliding around you, holding a bit too tight, pressing you a tiny bit too hard, you're still hot from earlier. It's perfect though. You don't want him to move an inch and you hope, the hand that's wrapped on his forearm, makes him understand.

"M'not too clingy?" His own cheek pressed hard to your own, he asks, which is weird. How could he still wonder? He's never ever been too clingy. Even when you were kids and he followed you around before even asking if he could, he wasn't too clingy. The closest, the better. You deny with a uh-uh. He calls out for your name when you're fighting to keep your eyelids open. It's the most comfortable, the warmest you've ever felt. Like a cocoon of pure love and adoration. On top of it, there's his hard arms around you, his hard thigh pushing against yours, his crotch -with the feel of his member, slightly stiff- glued to your butt, and his chest, as hard as the rest, holding your back up like a strong wall. "I promise I didn't plan the whole toys thingy for that."

"For what?" Sleepily, you wonder, actually confused from exhaustion. To cuddle with you? Like you haven't in so, so long. Why would he try to apologize for it? "To use them with you."

"What a shame." You don't think he can understand. Diction is not something you care for at the moment. The hard laugh bubbling in his chest, rumbling, shaking your whole, lets you know he did, in fact, get it.

"You're so-" He starts but the thought dies way too soon for you to even try and complete it yourself. "I'll have a billion questions for you tomorrow."

"No." You whine. Because he's fucking up everything. If he believes you'll say it all to him, there's no way you can. There's no way you will. He chuckles.

Doesn't seem to be taking you seriously.

"Yes. And you'll answer every single one of them." He gives a sweet but pressing kiss to your neck.

"No."

"I adore you." Fucking hell. "I broke up with Jiyeun because I adore you too much. I realized I want to spend all my time and energy on my best friend." You don't even know what he means. You can't even hold your eyelids open now, you can't even keep your hand on his arm, it being too heavy and sleep having taken over most of your body.

You bet he's saying that just because he's guessed it. He's figured you all out and the asshole doesn't mind playing with your soft heart. He knows he'll get anything from you if he's this good. Hopefully, tomorrow, he'll have forgotten about his little interrogation because you're not sure you'll be able to lie. For now, he's holding you way too close for you to care. Whatever. May it last forever, this feeling.

A/N: DON’T HATE ME OKAY?! i know i have an issue with angst and endings, for some reasons, i don’t want to hurt my characters but i can’t get myself to write an actual fully happy, non-ambiguous conclusion, and i’m really sorry for it lmao.

i sincerely hope you enjoyed the last part of The Wishlist! Thank you immensely for anyone who’s followed along, please let me know your thoughts, i really really want to know :)

for now, i’m sending you lots of love and kisses, take good care of yourself and others, see ya very very soon :]

tag list: @safi4x​ @kai-kai-bookshelf​ @somewhereinthestarss​ @hsinmyheart​ @moonchild1​ @monvieesdaebak @pasteljoonie​ @fangirls94​ @jinsalpaca​ @ggukkieland​

[theshoesofatiredman]

What a strange experience to realize this was about my post! Anyway I'd love to talk about your concerns more anon. I'm certainly more familiar with Christian Supercessionism than I was a few years ago, but I'm by no means an expert.

I wrote this post specifically because of the words of Jesus that I saw to be violent and abusive. I think many Christians have this sense that "yes, God was violent in the old testament, but Jesus preached peace and love. I'm a follower of Jesus." So I wanted to starkly contrast the two, since while Christians hold both YHWH and Jesus to be the same God, they hold the two portrayals to different standards.

As deservedgrace said,

the context of the post and my blog is an ex christian criticizing the christian interpretation and the harm that it has caused. it is a criticism OF that bastardization. it is a criticism of claiming that an all perfect, all knowing, all loving god exists in the first place, criticism that he would say and command these things, criticism that christians accept and perpetuate that, and criticism that christians expect blind faith regarding that and refuse any debate about it, which are completely antithetical to Judaism as i understand it.

The texts I alluded to from the OT were ones that had big impacts on me as a Christian. For me, these texts reinforced a message of blind obedience, unquestioning loyalty to God. While I'm not familiar with Jewish interpretations of all the passages I alluded to, from what I do know, blind obedience does not seem to be a feature in Judaism in the same way it is in Christianity. My understanding is that Jews would have criticisms similar to my own of the binding of Isaac and blind obedience in general.

I don't see this post as using the stolen Jewish texts to portray the Christian God as cruel, since I directly quote Jesus multiple times to make the same point. The original post was supposed to be more poem than explainer, and maybe ultimately that approach is where the shortcoming lies. I'm not sure. @deservedgrace I'm curious to know how you would have worded it to make it more clear.

What I do know is that the Christian interpretation of passages stolen from the Tanakh caused me harm and I think I gotta be able to talk about that harm in some way. Based off your message, anon, I think that's something you'd agree with, but let me know if I'm wrong.

I think it's also extremely important to unpack the amount of Christian supersessionism, Christian Supremacy, and Antisemitism that's embedded in what we were taught and how we were taught to view the world and ensure we aren't further perpetuating that.

I completely agree! There is so much antisemitism inherent to Christianity and I was blind to basically all of it as an evangelical. I think we agree on a lot of things and I would love to continue the conversation about the ways in which Christian worldviews promote antisemitism, what unpacking that looks like, and how to ensure we as ex christians aren't continuing to perpetuate the antisemitism that was deeply ingrained in what we were taught.

I'm going to turn off reblogs for the original post for now. I am not seeing it as something that promotes Christian supercessionism and the bastardization of the Tanakh, but I'm open to being wrong and hopeful that anon continues the conversation if they (or any onlooker) still holds that view after reading this.

Thank you both for being so kind and thoughtful in your criticism and defense of the post.

Hey! Regarding your last post that you reblogged Id highly suggest learning more about Christian appropriation and bastardization of Jewish texts and the accidentally antisemitic implications of talking about how cruel the Christian god is and then going to only quote examples of bastardized Jewish texts. Judaism has an extremely long and very rich history of arguing, debating, and struggling with our texts and the potentially problematic material within them as well as there being many many Jews who do not believe in the "bible" (Tanakh) being a literal account of of events that literally happened. And while as an extremely traumatized exvangelical myself I do understand where posts like this come from and the place of hurt they come from I think it's also extremely important to unpack the amount of Christian supersessionism, Christian Supremacy, and Antisemitism that's embedded in what we were taught and how we were taught to view the world and ensure we aren't further perpetuating that.

hi there,

i appreciate your message and the reminder. i agree, antisemitism is an issue with the ex christian community and we all, myself included, need to work at dismantling it. i'm very aware that what we know as the old testament was stolen, and that the christian interpretation and even the way that christians go about interpreting and implementing that text is incredibly different to how Judaism does it.

but i'm also really hesitant to say that the solution is to not discuss the christian interpretation and implementation and talk about that harm it does.

admittedly, if i had written that post myself i would have either taken out the old testament things altogether or worded it to be more clear, but the context of the post and my blog is an ex christian criticizing the christian interpretation and the harm that it has caused. it is a criticism OF that bastardization. it is a criticism of claiming that an all perfect, all knowing, all loving god exists in the first place, criticism that he would say and command these things, criticism that christians accept and perpetuate that, and criticism that christians expect blind faith regarding that and refuse any debate about it, which are completely antithetical to Judaism as i understand it.

in addition, much of the post you're talking about references the new testament (luke 14:26, matthew 8:22, matthew 10:34) as well, but you may have been hyperbolic and/or referencing other posts.

i can empathize that seeing a post referencing those texts might feel uneasy but, for myself at least, any criticism of the OT i have is very much criticizing the way christians use it to harm and does not speak on Judaism. it is not something i'm familiar enough with to feel comfortable making comments on.

maybe that's not enough. idk. feel free to send another message. but i think unpacking and calling out harmful christian narratives is important, and some of those narratives come from the christian interpretation of those texts.

[ssamie]

three. “stalker vibes”

kozume kenma x fem dazai!reader

(bsd x hq)

tw: mentions of suicide, probably a lot of spelling mistakes

masterlist.          suicide freak!

"class, today we have a new student joining us. please be nice to her" the teacher announced with a smile

kenma flinched at the sudden news. he kept his head down low, discreetly playing on his PSP under his desk, but he listened attentively to their teacher.

as the students started whispering to each other, kenma simply prayed that it wasn't the weirdo that kept bugging him last night. he didn't really know why he was suspecting it to be her. but with her out of context words last night, he couldn't help but be wary.

call it a gut feeling, if you may.

"alright, quiet down!" the teacher said "cmon in, l/n-san"

and just then, kenma swore he lost faith in both god and humanity all in one second.

he shakily looked up to see the same girl from the cafe. her (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes, and her fairly tall stature was interesting.

but what seemed to catch most of their attention was the bandages covering her arms, legs, and neck. some parts of it could be seen through the uniform jacket and undershirt, while the bandages on her legs could be seen through the thin material of her black tights.

"good morning! im l/n y/n. please take care of me~" she cooed.

she sent them a close eyed smile, along with a wave. it was something about the smooth tone of her voice.or maybe it was her effortlessly captivating smile. maybe it was just the insane amount of bandages she had.. 

but there was something about her that just somehow had the whole class wanting her attention.

in all honesty, its probably just because she was insanely attractive. 

"anything else you'd like to share about yourself?" the teacher asked her

"hm, maybe find out for yourselves~ let's be friends" she mused

kenma raised a brow at her awfully vauge answer. though he decided to shrug it off.

meanwhile, in her perspective, she was pretty much watching every movement of kenma's body. just before she took her seat, she whispered a small request to the teacher.

the teacher nodded along. "alright, you cam sit with kozume-kun, l/n-san"

"kozume-kun? will that be okay with you?" the teacher asked him

kenma froze as he felt multiple eyes land on him. his palms grew sweaty as he nervously nodded. he didn't like the attention he was receiving.

"i'll let you guys get to know each other for now. i'll be in the faculty room if you need me!" the teacher announced before walking out the classroom. 

she grinned and skipped over to him. 

"why." he muttered in annoyance "just why."

"hehe, well i did say i'd see you tomorrow, did i not?" she said with a cheeky smile

kenma simply stayed quiet, side eying her, before looking back down on his PSP.  "stalker." he said 

she gasped in offense and dramatically put her hand on her chest. "im no stalker, excuse you!" 

kenma scrunched his face up and looked her up and down. "stalker." he said. 

"coincidence? not quite! fate?" she raised a brow amusedly "i mean, what else could it be than that!" 

"please don't talk to me." kenma sighed 

she blatantly ignored him and carried on talking. "or maybe! i specifically asked to be transfered to your school and class!" 

kenma looked up at her with a look of irritation and disbelief.  "you what?" he scowled 

"oh my.." she pouted and placed a hand on her heart dramatically "i was just kidding! do you really think i'd do something like that?" 

kenma huffed and put away his console. "yes." he answered 

"well then, you're absolutely right!" 

"but what i didnt plan was to be able to sit next to you!" she pouted "so now some gentlemen are getting me a desk of my own" she smirked and looked over his shoulder "so for the time being, i guess there's just no other option than to sit on your lap" she chuckled 

"oh, since it can't be helped. can't be helped" she said with a small hum 

just before kenma would have had to resort to dropkicking her, the said boys waltzes in carrying a desk and a chair 

"l/n-san! we got you your desk, sorry for the wait" one of the boys said 

"damn." she muttered with a scowl 

"damn?" the boys repeated with a nervous smile 

"i mean, thank you! what kind gentlemen you are" she sent them a smile as she took a seat beside kenma 

the boys all flushed pink and nodded back at her. 

her smile quickly dropped as she turned to look at kenma. he was now playing his game again, and blatantly ignoring her. 

"ke-n-ma~" she sang out 

"kenma-kun~" she called out again 

she smiled and slid her desk closer to his, her chair and herself following. she hummed in content as she felt their shoulders brushing. 

"what are you doing" kenma asked with a huff as he scooted away from her 

"what are you doing? were supposed to use this time to get to know each other" she said with a hum 

"no thanks. i know enough." he responded blandly 

she pouts and rocks her chair back and forth. "suit yourself. i might just woo the boys and girls for the time being" she said as she send a wave to a group of girls a few tables away from them 

"i'd ask them on a double suicide, but no one could ever beat you" she cooed as she nudged his shoulder with hers 

"i don't care" he said as he turned away from her 

"meet you later at lunch pudding~" 

"dont talk to me" 

as lunch time ensues, kenma practically bolted out the door. luckily for him, she stayed true to her words of 'wooing the boys and girls'. 

currently, y/n was trapped in a circle of hormonal teenagers. she was merely smiling and laughing, throwing in flirtatious words here and there. 

"eek! l/n-chan, come eat lunch with us!" one girl exclaimed

y/n blinked and smiled blankly. she was slightly concerned on how quick these girls' sexualities flipped a 180°.

"sorry, but i made plans with someone already" she said as she slyly pushed her way through the crowd  "maybe tomorrow!" she exclaimed before walking out 

"if im still alive~" she cooed to herself 

"now.." she muttered to herself as she stopped by a hallway. "where's that pudding head.." 

she looked around a few more times before giving up. she shrugged it off and made a bee line towards the rooftop 

"fresh air, nice view, conveniently placed rope.." she listed out with a content sigh. she looked around the seemingly empty rooftop and nodded with determination. she picked up the 'conveniently placed rope' and started tying a noose 

humming a small tune to herself, she tied the rope around her neck with a smile. 

"who would've thought that doing it in a school rooftop would be the trick?" she mused with a small laugh

meanwhile in poor kenma's perspective, he was merely trying to play his game in peace. he had ran away from kuroo, and the only possible hiding place left would be the rooftop. 

all he wanted was to play his game. 

what he didn't want, was to see someone trying to hang themselves with a huge smile on their face.

"w-what the-" he stuttered out 

"oya?" she muttered out as she made eye contact with him 

"kenma! great timing! perfect, actually!" she cheered 

she slipped the noose off and waved at him, holding the rope with her hands. 

"i was initially gonna be alone, but with you here, the whole game plan has changed!" she said with a hearty laugh 

"y/n?! what are you doing?!" he asked with a look of panic in his eyes. he gripped his PSP tight as he warily stepped closer to her. 

she cocked her head to the side and gave him a confused smile. "what else? im gonna hang myself, of course" 

"dont do that! are you crazy??" he exclaimed 

"of course im not! but this-" she motioned to the rope "this will be my way out! who knew the oldest method in the book would be the answer" she hummed 

kenma didn't answer. but he slowly put down his PSP on the ground and creeped up on her. as she started singing some weird suicide song, kenma was already behind her. she simply thought he was planning on joining her so she left him be. 

"alright! time to d-" 

before she could slide her head in and wrap the noose around her neck, kenma was already tackling her. 

"stop it, you suicidal maniac!" he exclaimed as he pushed his body against hers 

her eyes widen comically as she slipped on the chair she was standing on, sending her flying in the air. as funny and as impossible as it is, she, for some reason, ended up having her leg stuck to the noose, leaving her dangling upside down. 

kenma, however, was on the ground laying on his stomach. y/n looks at him with her (e/c) eyes, a look of confusion and irritation lacing her features. 

"damn." she scowled 

"damn?!" he repeated with a scoff 

kenma stood up, dusting his uniform as he glared at her with his cat-like eyes. "i just saved your life." he glared at her "and why are you doing that anyway?" 

she then smiled sheepishly and placed her hands on her chest. "i just thought that ending it here, without atsushi and kunikida-kun or anyone else to interfere, would be the perfect way out!" 

"but then you came.." she gritted her teeth 

kenma scoffed in offense and picked his PSP up from the ground. 

"i actually thought you were finally gonna join me!" she whined  "imagine the hurt i felt after your betrayal!" she exclaimed dramatically 

kenma sighed and clutched his pulsating chest. it was definitely his first time doing something like that. 

"ne, kenma-kun" she whined "since you're already here, you might as well eat lunch with me" 

she wiggled around in hope of freeing herself but sighed in defeat when she failed to do so.  "also, maybe come help me out of this?" she asked sheepishly 

"just die like that." kenma replied bluntly. he took a seat next to her dangling body, cowering in the shade as he continued to play his game, though he sneeked some glances at her from time to time. 

"but i snuck in some alcohol and i was dying to try it out" she sighed dejectedly 

"alcohol?" kenma cringed 

"well, yeah. i was hoping i'd consume so much i'd just die from it" she said nonchalantly "and because i like the taste of it" 

"help me out ke-n-ma~" she sang out "ke-n-ma~" 

kenma simply ignored her and continued playing. 

"..." she paused 

"kyanmaaaa!! ~" she called out while waving her arms around 

"fine!" he snapped and stomped over to her, blushing once he caught sight of her lifted skirt. though there wasn't really much to see since she was wearing shorts. 

"hold still-" he huffed as he tried to untie the knot 

"hehe, this is real intimate, don't you think?" she chuckled and hugged his torso, though she ended up hugging his lower waist due to her current position. she nuzzled her face into his midsection, making him flinch 

"yeah. real cute. romantic. wow." he retorted sarcastically as he started sliding her leg out 

she let out a yelp as she suddenly fell on the hard ground. she looked up at his unamused face with a sly grin. she was laying the the floor while he looked down at her. 

"so.. you come here often?" she snickered 

"die." 

"that's the plan!" 

[hotchley]

dkfjsk SUMAYYAH I DEADASS TEARED UP AT YOUR LATEST WEB WEACING POST IM SOBBING NOW BECAUSE IM SAD SKDJSKDJ

everytime i see posts about how the team so readily criticised Hotch in that episode my heart breaks just a little more

not that i think it's wrong or they shouldn't have done that, but the fact that only Morgan was the one to add nuance to his criticism ("sometimes")? for Emily it was kind of understandable since she was still so new to the team, and obviously given the way she started at the BAU, Hotch wouldn't have shown her too much trust & be kind to her, which to be fair, definitely could've made her come to the conclusion that he doesn't trust women. but the one that really gets to me nowadays is how JJ just says he's a bully like, 😭😭😭😭 he's one of the kindest characters with the biggest hearts on the show and I always thought Hotch had this older brother vibes with JJ because he was so protective of & patient with her & all that it actually kind of broke my heart to see that line again 😭

the first time i watched the episode i didn't think much about it because at that time i was younger (around 2 years ago? i mean mentally, intellectually, i feel like I've matured since then) & so i didn't pay such close attention to that scene + the whole Spencer was still in danger part kinda had my attention anyways. i only thought that scene was kinda sad but also showcased Hotch's really amazing intellect + sensitivity/perception i guess, i found it kind of funny/amusing and enjoyed it when they figured out Spencer's hint and that's it but now, as I've grown and matured and especially after I've read more fics about Hotch (fanfiction writers are really amazing at spotting details, you'd know that yourself) i just find the entire scene to be SO HEARTBREAKING 😭 idk i always saw Hotch as this strong, tough alpha male leader figure and to think that in that moment he's getting ripped apart by his teammates, the very people he is constantly putting his life and job and family on the line for, and getting all his insecurities and biggest fears laid out and voiced out and exposed by those he very well considers his second family.....

idk I'm just sad now 😭😭😭😭😭

- 🌙

My answer got LONG so it's all below the cut :)

I am going to sound terrible, but I AM VERY HAPPY!! I was hoping someone would be sad because I had the idea in the shower and was like: AHA

I know, I watched that episode and was like: ohh... well... I mean... and then I watched more and was like: OHHH NOO. And then people will be like: HAHA IT'S SO FUNNY!! Or: well I mean, are they wrong??

And I'm like: first, that wasn't funny, because when I asked my friends what my worst flaw was I got: how honest do you want me to be, you don't have enough faith in yourself, you don't have one and silence. And they were also wrong because PEOPLE SAY THINGS IN ANGER!!

Honestly, look at their comments and it shows so much about the way they view Hotch and the dynamic between the characters, and also how they express their emotions. Morgan already knows that Hotch is up to something, so not only does he add nuance, he goes for something that isn't even that big of a deal like "drill sergeant, SOMETIMES" he's the Unit Chief, of course he is.

Yeah, Emily's makes sense, but the issue I have with that is the fandom interpretation of that comment. It's not that he doesn't trust women- if he really didn't trust women, he would not trust JJ to handle press, or recruited Garcia from prison. Also, look at the dynamic with Blake and with Kate. He never distrusted them. He didn't trust Emily because of the way she was put on his team. Everyone watching knows there's something going on, and most of the fandom have seen the later seasons so it's like: GUYS!! REMEMBER THE CONTEXT!!

I know!! When JJ called him a bully, I was like: I know you're angry, but you know you're wrong and he's going to internalise that, and he's not a bully, because look at their little interactions like when he told her it's okay to lose it, or when he fought to let her stay, or how he thought she was an amazing profiler and AAH

Yeah I watched that for the first time and kinda thought it was funny, if a little sad and problematic because why would anyone look at their boss and think: yeah, I'm going to be honest about this. And I know Reid was trying to give a hint, but it was still sad to hear Hotch so violently deny being a narcissist, because even when people don't mean things, it hurts. That's why I included it in the post, just for the complete set.

I first mentioned that scene in heavy is the head that wears the crown as one of the six times Hotch keeps it together, and people were like: OH MY GOD!! That was when I realised... most people did not take it the same way I did... and then it became A Thing.

So then it got mentioned in... that fic where Hotch got kidnapped and mayhem and maybe that's okay? I'm not sure, but I started working it into as many things as possible because I'm like that.

(But seriously, I will work in Emily's: I need to know I can be human and the Revelations scene wherever possible, it's ridiculous)

It is very upsetting though. Because you have Hotch saying he doesn't have a sense of humour, which is a) not that big of a deal, and b) not true. JJ lashes out, Morgan tries to do damage control, Emily goes too far (there's actually a conversation planned where Gideon tries to explain the truth...)

That was exactly it. Throughout the show, Hotch puts his career on the line- he does also get suspended without pay- and tries to do everything he can for them, only for that scene to never have any follow-up. People on TikTok will always be like: Hotch never apologised for this, JJ never apologised for this, but nobody ever said to Hotch: BY THE WAY!!

Also, it was definitely strange. So much of the non-case moments show the team are also a family, because they talk to each other and they love each other and this and that, but that one scene seems to do the opposite...

Like an UNSUB was able to get Hotch's biggest fear- and therefore his biggest flaw- better than the team were able to. Mildly concerning. But yes. I stand by: these were comments made in a moment of anger, and Hotch is not any of those things so everyone should move on :)

If it's any consolation, I got sad making it....

Does any of this make sense? Idk... ANYWAYS

[one-boring-person]

Only Traitors Consort With The Damned. (Part Two.)

The Lost Boys x reader

Warnings: blood imagery, injury, mention of death.

Context: The reader helps out Paul with his little problem, and tries to figure out what another Hunter is doing in Santa Carla.

A/N: I know there has been quite a gap between this and the last part, but I think I'm gonna try and get a new part out every Sunday, so that I have time for requests, school work and other fics. I apologise if this is a bit short 💛💛

Masterlist.

Yet another strangled whine of pain escapes the shirtless vampire propped against the fountain before me, his slick blood already coating my hands generously after only five minutes of working the barbed splinters of wood from his muscular abdomen, the tweezers slipping in my grasp as I pull at one of the more deeply lodged pieces. Dimly, I am aware of the others watching me work, Marko biting his thumb so hard the skin has probaby broken by now, Dwayne silently eyeing my every move from his position beside David, whose face is etched with anger and frustration. Thankfully, I'm pretty sure there aren't that many left, maybe one or two, meaning that the vampire's discomfort should soon be over, something which I can tell will be gratefully appreciated.

Finally, the splinter I'm working at comes free, drawing yet another hiss of pain from Paul, whose head falls back against the fountain with a thud, blue eyes squeezed tightly shut as the wound starts to stitch itself closed, his natural healing ability kicking in pretty quickly. I drop the piece if wood on the floor beside me and wipe the tweezers clean on my shirt, seeing as it is already covered in blood, trying to pat away some of the crimson substance from the vampire's skin as I go, locating the next couple of places I need to pick clean. Biting my lip, I place a hand beside the wound and use two fingers to gently pry it apart, inserting the tweezers as I find the end of the splinter, clamping down on it even as Paul moans again, blood oozing out of the incision as I start to pull. This one eases out pretty smoothly, leaving only one more that needs removing, one which is right beside where his heart is.

"One more." I reassure him, cleaning the tweezers again before leaning forwards and inserting them into the hole in his skin, trying not to prod around too much as I search for the offending splinter, swiftly locating it and going to try and pull it out. Instantly, the tweezers slip off, the small piece of wooden shrapnel barbed and stuck in the flesh, meaning it'll be much harder to remove. Gritting my teeth, I carefully pull the hole open further, trying not to wince as Paul's hand instinctively comes up to grip my wrist, nearly crushing the bones there as he tries to get me to stop, his grasp only tightening as I finally manage to yank it free, one last cry of agony escaping him as he relaxes back against the fountain, nearly sobbing in relief. Sitting back on my heels, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, shaking my hair from my face as I wipe my hands on my shirt, slowly standing up from my kneeling position.

"All done, they should heal now." I say to him, turning to the others with a grim smile, knowing that my appearance is not the most impressive, what with my hands being covered in blood and all.

"Thank you, (Y/n). I don't honestly know what we would've done." Dwayne thanks me, smiling gratefully to me as he goes to help Paul up, Marlo going to aid him in that as the tall vampire continues to whine to himself.

"I don't know, pulling splinters out with tweezers is not the most technical thing in the world, is it?" I point out, watching as they help Paul to his feet and over to a sofa, where they give him back his shirt and jacket.

"No, but still. You didn't need to help us, so thank you." David speaks up, looking at me in earnest as he adjusts his gloves, body still tense.

"It's no problem, just don't tell my boss." I reply, grimacing at the last part, being able to imagine his face if he found out already.

"We won't." The platinum blonde smirks, lifting an eyebrow at me, well aware that what I'm doing could get me hunted to my death if I was ever caught.

Smiling at him, I look to the entrance of the cave, noting the lightness of the sky outside with a sigh, knowing I'll have to return home now, so I can deal with the Hunter tied to my floor. The vampires seem to realise this, too, all of them quickly saying goodbye as I make my excuses, leaving the cave with the tweezers slipped into my pocket, my jacket pulled tightly around me as I start the long walk home, thinking up a story to tell the man in question. It shouldn't be too hard - I can make something up about him being attacked, and then found by me a little while later, somehow left alive by the vampire. I iron out all the details as I trek through the forest, enjoying the slightly cooler temperature of the early morning, glad now that I live in a more natural area, rather than the lousy motel I was required to stay in before. With my head in the clouds, it doesn't take me as long as I thought it would to reach the ramshackle shed, the sounds of someone calling out from inside already audible from my position behind the tree line to its left. The Hunter must be awake.

Sighing, I go over to the door and unlock it, swiftly finding the Hunter on the floor when I've done so, his rugged face twisted into a scowl of annoyance, only for it to turn into an expression of confusion as he takes in my appearance, his legs pulled up to his chest in a defensive gesture, ready to kick out at me if I provoke him to do so.

"Thank God you're awake! I thought you might've passed in your sleep!" I sigh out, starting the charade immediately, smiling at him as I close the door behind me, making sure to show him the insignia on my shoulder as I turn.

"Who are you? How did I get here? And why the hell am I chained to the floor?" He growls out, clearly not too pleased with the situation. I frown at his reaction, as if annoyed that he's rejecting my "hospitality".

"I'm (Y/n), an SRS Hunter like you, and I dragged you here after you got attacked by vampires in the dunes. You're chained to the floor because I don't trust you not to steal from me and then run off." I inform him, going to the table and replacing the tweezers, "Now, you'd better not prove to be like that anyway, or I'll report you to a superior officer, and we all know how that will end. You should be thanking me, I saved your life after all."

At this, he looks up at me in surprise, sitting forwards slightly as I bend to untie him, rubbing his wrists gently as he climbs back to his feet, revealing his height to me - he stands a good head above me. Smiling tightly, I offer him my hand, only to realise it's covered in blood, swiftly withdrawing it with a soft apology.

"Why are you so...bloodied?" The Hunter asks me, watching as I go to the bucket of water in the corner, rinsing my hands and arms in the icy depths, "I'm Archer, by the way."

"I spent the rest of the night chasing down your attackers. I got them in the end, but they put up one hell of a fight." I explain, lying through my teeth as I straighten again, drying my hands on a cloth nearby, "Do you mind just stepping out as I change?"

With a nod, he leaves the shack, going to stand outside as I hastily remove my filthy shirt and trousers, replacing them with clean ones as I grab my jacket again, inspecting the damage, noting that it isn't too bad overall. Relacing my boots back up, I take a cereal bar from the small cupboard in the corner and go out to see if Archer is still there, glad to find him sitting on the log outside. As I exit, he looks over to me, watching as I walk over to where he is, smiling and thanking me as he accepts the cereal bar from me, carefully unwrapping it and eating it.

"So tell me, why did you come to Santa Carla?" I break the silence, looking over at him as he shrugs.

"I was told to by one of the superiors, someone called Elijah, I think. He said he wanted someone to come and check on the Hunter over here." He chews his food before continuing, "At least now I know who that Hunter is."

"Yeah, I guess." I muse, troubled by his words. Elijah is an old friend, I never knew he'd become a superior whilst I was away. But the fact that he wants to check on me? That doesn't bode too well for me.

"I just got a bit caught up with some vampires that were on that attraction thing, the Broadwalk or something." Archer says, finishing up the food.

"The Boardwalk." I correct him, smirking a bit at his attitude, finding him quite pleasant to be around, "You think you're gonna stay?"

"Nah, I don't like it here. It's too small and weird for me. I'll go back to New Orleans and say you're doing fine, I reckon they'll be ok with that." He assures me, looking around at the surroundings.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Do you want me to show you back into town?" I offer, eating my own cereal bar quickly, standing and going to the door of the shack, closing it and drawing the chain across in order to lock it.

"Yeah, that'd be great, thanks."

Smiling, I gesture for him to follow me, leading him the quickest way possible back into town, glad that he's not looking into my residence too much.

A week passes before I receive the one thing I've been dreading, Archer's recount of events apparently not quite satisfactory.

A letter from the SRS, announcing the date of a visit from a senior officer, the situation here apparently needing assessment. When I find this, I try my best not to panic too much, knowing full well that I'm at risk of being found out.

Part Three.

[strikingskeletonsiege]

((Do you have any particular character development you'd like to see any of your boys undergo?))

((Oops almost missed this

Well I got a lot a boys! So let's get through 'em.

{this got long af :V}

Let's start with Siege and Stolas. Both of them were more "come up with the muse and personality and throw them around and see what happens" kind of deals. Stolas I'm a little slower on, I more want to see what future canon stuff comes out and how I can incorporate it, or how well it already fits with what I'm doing. No real plans, just having fun vibing.

Siege is more fun to watch how he changes organically over time, slowly stemming his burn everything and run tendencies and gathering a group of people he earnestly loves, even if he can't yet bring himself to use the word directly. And yet, I kind of want him to hurt someone. Have to more directly tackle who he was with who he's becoming. He got a taste of it when he yelled at Cubot and hated himself for it, but he mostly got out of that without any major consequences. I'd like to see it get messy, painful, in a way he can't avoid or downplay and instead just has to stand up and Deal with it. Or run again, and hurt more than ever.

Comet, Crybaby, my sad, sad, lonely little skel. I wanna get this dummy some more friends. I do want him to get more confident, maybe find some problems he can help with, even fights. I never actually planned for him to be weak, it just sort of worked itself out that way where he never really won any fights against other muses, just a couple NPCs. Though honestly his biggest issues don't have anything to do with that, they're more from how badly he tore himself apart and was hurt by his relationship with Ace turning unhealthy, and then vanishing altogether with no chance for closure let alone reconciliation. He feels like, despite knowing better, that sharing his problems just hurt people. He also very often feels misunderstood when he tries to talk about them anyway, but that's not really their fault when he still holds stuff back anyway. How can anyone help him get through feeling useless when he won't say how he wound up feeling that way? How can anyone understand that he just wants to be able to openly grieve the loss of his old dreams and goals when he won't just say that? Sometimes he feels like he can't talk about how he feels, and sometimes it's a result of him not giving the context to begin with. He wants someone he can rely on, but he's afraid to try looking in case he guesses wrong and hurts someone (again). I think I'm talking in circles at this point and this paragraph is massive now so moving on,

Who next uhhh BEN sure. Ben. I don't know what I'm doing with Ben but it's fun. I had a couple things planned out but it's more on hold now. Those specific things at least. I like the idea of prying into what it's like to have this shit sitting on one's shoulders for so long. To pick and choose what I do and don't like from canon and feel out this version better. To keep a running gag going where he tells people Rook is his partner and they keep assuming he means romantically. Ben's also a guy that holds a lot of stuff back, but he copes with humor, pranks, downplaying some things and playing up others. This boy needs therapy. There's a fun and painful irony of him going to Salmon's Kevin "because [he] won't Worry" to get drunk and talk about how fucked it up was the shit they had to deal with as children, and then turn around and try to downplay the harm of literal child soldiers with Cloud. Like bro that's fucked up. That's a fucked up thing to say. It's fine to admit shit's fucked you up.

Um um um which boy next. Those are pretty much the only active ones.

Slob. idk what to do with Slob most of the time, now. He had a small circle of people he cared about, and most of those muses are no longer active and probably won't be again. He's just kind of There, bein' a li'l shit sometimes. Making remarks that go mostly missed because not a lot of still active people follow him. This doesn't bother him, he's doing pretty well for himself otherwise. Just not a lot to talk about.

Dally. I'd like to play Dally again. I'm working up the nerve to have him just be CUTE (threat) on the dash at least. Like he seems alright but here and there are little hints that he actually kinda fucked up. That's. That's not really character development tho is it, this is kinda irrelevant. Whatever it's 3am I can be incoherent if I wanna.

Hater. I lost drive for Hater. I didn't want to, but man. When you have to explain, over and over, what your rules are and what they mean, to people who say they understand and then continue to break those rules anyway? I can't do dashboard threads and that's all anyone that RPs WOY wanted to do. Sure, I can go all "WOY fandom dni" but I'd want Hebby and their Peepers around for him.

BONUS

I keep tossing around ideas to play more characters from CB's timeline. Like Mettaton. Or have some kind of M!A where either blogstart CB or Undyne or somebody is there as like a ghost that he's just gotta deal with. idk. I'm not the best at plot. I think that's my main issue.))

[trainthief]

Hey I was wondering if you'd ever consider doing like a top 20 fav classical music albums or composers list or something. Obviously if that just sounds stressful disregard this but I know you are like, into classical music & I grew up with my parents playing it & recently got, like, into the classical station but aside from like 3 artists I like I don't know where to start & I like your blog and would be interested in hearing about like, your taste

Sorry for responding to this so late, I’ve had a real week and I wanted to make sure I had time to put some thought into answering this ask. I’d definitely love to help, I always like recc’ing classical stuff to people! The idea of 20 absolute all time favorites is a difficult one for me because I love so much stuff and it’s really difficult to compare like… Caroline Shaw’s modern experimental chorale stuff to Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos. Anyway, instead I will give you some full length pieces in different styles that I think are great for new listeners, and explain a little about what each one is doing and what I love about it, and some more pieces I recommend if you enjoy what you’re hearing. Hopefully that will help! 

In no particular order: 

Appalachian Spring by Copland: Let’s just get this one out of the way up front. If you’ve been following me for any amount of time at all, you know I’m deeply in love with Copland. He essentially invented the American compositional style by adding jazz elements to the established practices, which caused an absolute uproar at the beginning of his career as people then considered it an unholy mix of high and low culture. He doubled down on this concept when he wrote “Fanfare For The Common Man” which essentially stands as a celebration of the working class and those who couldn’t afford to see the symphony anyway. He was, I should also note, both gay and Jewish. A real icon. Anyhow, although I love so much of his work and could go on forever, I consider listening to Appalachian Spring in its entirety a spiritual experience, no exaggeration. Take it on a hike, listen to it while you look at the trees and think about whatever crosses your mind, and by the time the Coda hits you… well I personally can’t tell you what experience to have, but I feel for a second like I can see and be seen. Anyway, aside from that, just good music, very pretty. If you’d like similar music that incorporated jazz effectively into classical work, I’d of course recommend another favorite of mine: Rhapsody in Blue by Gershwin. 

Russian Easter Festival by Rimsky-Korsakov: As a general rule of thumb, Russian composers are ALWAYS good for some drama. This piece in particular is great because it’s not only fanfare and excitement, there’s a touch of pastoral calmness that I really love (more on that as a concept later) at the beginning, but we still get plenty of wildness. There’s a frantic octave part the violins play around minute 5 that always makes me want to scream. If you like this, I’d also recommend checking out Rimsky-Korsakov’s Capriccio Espagnol. The man knows how to write sexy. 

Romance in D by Berkey: I recommend this partially because it’s a lesser known and very beautiful piece, and also because it’s a good lead-in to a whole subset of classical called Furniture Music. Essentially called that - originally by the composer Satie - because it’s nice to put on in the background. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still fun to listen to, and from a compositional and performance standpoint it can still be very impressive. But it’s just good and calming and you could certainly sip tea to it in the restaurant area of a ritzy 1920’s hotel while you read a novel and ignore your rich husband asking if you’d like any marmalade. A good example of the same effect is the soundtrack to Phantom Thread. It’s also good for studying. If you like that conceptually, I’ve got a whole playlist here. 

Pictures at an Exhibition by Mussorgsky: A really excellent intro to classical and one of my favorite works, AND like the last one, also a lead-in to an informal format. Pictures was written with the idea that each song was a separate painting that the listener could imagine they were looking at in a museum. For that reason, each one has a different style and personality, and feels very descriptive and exciting. A collection of small related pieces is called a suite, but I haven’t yet been able to find a technical name for that specific kind of storytelling structure within a suite. It’s not uncommon though, and in that same vein I’d also recommend The Planets by Holst (about the planets, as you might assume), and Carnival of the Animals by Saint Saens (about… yeah you get it). 

Spem in Alium by Tallis: We’re taking a wild left turn now and veering into the Christian choral tradition dating back to the 1500s. Like anyone else who isn’t even a Christian, there’s a few things about Catholicism that I’m obsessed with. Namely the hymns and the stained glass. Focusing only on the hymns, Tallis is one of the best examples of polyphonic hymnal work. Polyphonic, essentially, means that the different voices in the piece are moving around each other and will frequently change their notes in a way that will compliment - but is not necessarily in line with - the direction of the piece as a whole. It makes more sense if you just listen. The style, however, was developed in an attempt to capture the idea of the stars and planets circling each other in their own independent orbits, because at the time people had just started to turn their gaze to the sky for answers about their own lives. Aside from that very cool background, I just find the really human side of the choir format in particular paired with the elevation of music being this untouchable but powerful thing paired with the holiness of the concept paired with how awesome the acoustics of a chapel can be…. It’s just a lot. If you like this I’d also recommend Miserere Mei by Allegri, Ave Maris Stella by Dufay, and O Magnum Mysterium by Lauridsen 

Peter Grimes by Britten: Classical music is so rooted in every musical tradition, and visa versa, that it’s almost impossible to separate it conceptually from a lot of genres. Technically, “classical” refers to a period of time more than it does a genre anyway, but let’s not get pretentious about it. While we’re pushing the boundaries of what can and can’t be included in this list, let’s talk Opera, and specifically Peter Grimes. When asked to describe it, Britten said it was “a subject very close to my heart—the struggle of the individual against the masses. The more vicious the society, the more vicious the individual.” More specifically the struggle was an allegory for gay oppression, and ironically Britten wrote the lead role with his lifelong partner Peter Pears - an opera singer - in mind. To give a taste without giving too much away, the Prologue establishes that Grimes, a fisherman, is being questioned over the death of his apprentice. The townspeople are all convinced before the questioning even begins that he must have done it, but the coroner decides the death was accidental. Grimes is let free and advised not to get another apprentice, but he of course ignores this…. If the vocal side of opera doesn’t do it for you, there are 4 Sea Interludes from this work that are really great independently. If you want even more opera with even more drama, I’d recommend looking at Tosca or Turandot both by Pucccini. If you think classic opera is too high brow and you want something a little sillier, try Mozart’s Magic Flute. If you want something more new age and weird, try listening to Two Boys by Muhly or selections from Einstein on the Beach by Glass (but probably not all 5 hours, Knee Play 5 and Spaceship would be my top 2). 

Symphony No. 6 “Pastoral” by Beethoven: I mentioned earlier when describing the Russian Easter Festival that I love a piece with pastoral calmness. Getting back to that point, I haven’t ever seen one word that’s commonly used to describe this particular sense in a piece, but I personally call it a Pastoral after Beethoven’s 6th. In general, the symphony is one of my favorites as a composer and listener, especially given that it’s really just about taking a walk in nature which is one of only 3 themes music should have anyway in my opinion. A good amount of my music is written with this feeling in mind. Aside from all that context, the first movement in particular is very nice, passionate but not sensational, and is just about being excited to be outside. Nothing wrong with that. This subset of music is probably the most informal of all the ones I’ve listed so far, but if you’d like more “Pastorals,” or pieces that have a nice calm passion to them, I’d also highly recommend Enigma Variations: Nimrod by Elgar, Fantasia on a Theme of Tallis by Vaughan Williams, Once Upon A Time In America by Morricone, Musica Celestis by Kernis, and of course again Appalachian Spring by Copland. (I would also be legally sent to jail if I didn’t mention that while we’re on the subject of Beethoven, his 9th Symphony is generally considered one of the greatest achievements in classical music). 

Rite of Spring by Stravinsky: A lot of these pieces have been good jumping off points into different musical concepts, but with this one I’m sticking my description to the initial piece itself. I got the chance to email with a composer I admire and he at one point described composition not in the sense of writing something “smart”, but in writing something “detailed”. The Rite of Spring is a really great example of detailed composition. It’s extremely experimental with its time changes - essentially the way that you should be counting your notes as a musician constantly changes and always into a pattern that’s difficult to keep track of - and also with its chord structure. The music itself can be jarring and odd to listen to but the composition wasn’t random and when studied shows an obsessive elbows-deep involvement in the work that I really admire. It might not surprise you to hear, however, that at the initial performance the audience was so furious that the lighting technician had to continually flash the lights to confuse them, out of fear of a riot. If you’d like something a bit more fun to listen to by the same composer, however, Firebird is a good one. And if you’d like another great piece that was completely booed off the stage at its premier, I’d recommend Grand Pianola by Adams. 

Romeo and Juliet by Prokofiev: While we’re in the general vicinity of ballet, I should get into that deeper. Ballets can have some of the most fun music to listen to because the timing is required to be so much more specific. Romeo and Juliet is a lot of fun, particularly the “Montagues and Capulets” and “Masks” sections. Another great ballet is, of course, The Nutcracker by Tchaikovsky. I’d also recommend Don Quixote by Minkus, and Rodeo by Copland…. I know I know 

Violin Concerto in D by Tchaikovsky: I said Russians bring the drama, and it’s doubly so when it’s a gay Russian. This piece is a classic example of the solo concerto format, which is a staple of classical as a whole. The setup is a single player on whatever instrument the piece is written for accompanied by an orchestra, and is usually a showcase of technical skill by the soloist. This one in particular is basically THE turning point in a violinist’s studies and just about every violinist learns it as soon as they’re capable of taking it on. Personally I still vividly remember when my teacher finally gave it to me, it’s a very specific sense of accomplishment. Similar examples of the solo concerto format on different instruments would be Piano Concerto in F by Rachmaninoff, and Oboe Concerto in C by Mozart, both of which I absolutely love. 

The Revd Mustard His Installation Prelude by Muhly: I’ve gone on forever so I’m trying to be quick. Nico Muhly is one of my favorite modern composers and Revd Mustard combines his classic ecstatic and constantly moving style with an organ, which I’m a sucker for. Contemporary classical in his style can be difficult to listen to because it’s gotten very experimental and as a result, very complicated. But if you don’t go into it with the expectation that you’re going to hear a structured and logical Mozart-like piece and you instead surrender your opinion until the whole thing has come together for you, it can be really interesting at the very least. As a side note, Nico has collaborated with Sufjan, Bjork, Jonsi, Teitur…. lots of people. You’ve certainly heard him before even if you didn’t know it. For more classical from the last few decades I’d recommend Partita for 8 Singers by Shaw, Tissue No. 7 by Glass, Different Trains by Reich, the Red Violin Concerto by Corigliano (especially because I just saw it live a few days ago and am still reeling), Perpetuum Mobile by Penguin Cafe Orchestra, and Cantus in Memoriam Benjamin Britten by Part. Each of which is vastly different, stylistically speaking, but all of which I really love. And for more organ listen to one of my favorite pieces of all time, Symphony 3 by Saint Saens. 

Ok, you know what? I’m cutting myself off because I’ve gone on forever. If you haven’t been put off of asking me questions entirely by now, please feel free if you want even more recommendations in a specific style, or want to know more about something you enjoy. Clearly I love talking about this. Hope that helped!