#they establish you in the lives of these 8 people so quickly

[maybemoonbeams]

quick q why did we let go of sense8 so quickly

#im rewatching and like #they establish you in the lives of these 8 people so quickly #and the way they all interract #it’s found family as hell #yeah there’s a lot of sex #and it was expensive as hell to make #but it has so many good messages #I don’t think I have any real coherent thoughts to express besides it’s good to me and I enjoy it a lot #sense8

[mhahaikyuus]

Shelves

tags:; bakugo x reader, established relationship, fluff, reader being type A and so is Bakugo, domestic fluff, minor injury, small arguments, pro hero bakugo x reader, cuddling

a/n: posting this bc i haven’t posted in forever hope you enjoy, reblogs appreciated

You were sitting in your living room reading a book as your boyfriend came back from an early Saturday shift around mid day to your shared house.

While he was gone you had received a package at your doorstep. Heavy furniture packaged in a big cardboard box at your doorstep.

You had planned for your boyfriend to be home to help you move it two bookshelves for the living room.

However it started to rain and you didn’t want the package to get wet, and you were independent grown woman, you could move a box.

So you spent 30 minutes moving a box about the size of a fridge up a flight of stairs, through your doorway to the living room.

While you were moving it you definitely pulled something in your back. Now laying on your couch your lower back in pain.

Katsuki came home to you laying on the couch and a giant box in your living room. You knew he would cuss you out for hurting yourself when you could’ve called him to move it.

“I’m back y/n-“ He stopped looking at the box bigger than yourself standing in your living room, “The delivery guys put it in the living room.” He interrupted himself assuming wrong.

You hummed in response not wanting to say yes or no.

“Okay I’ll put it together tonight.” He said

Leaning down to kiss you. You met him halfway with a small wince and smiled in that kiss.

“I can do it later, I just want to lay down right now.” You said falling back on the couch.

“No I’m doing it.” He said. He hated how independent you are. Wanting you to rely on him but you never fully could always making excuses.

“Fine.” You sighed. Katsuki leaned down to give you a kiss again and reached around to drag your forward.

You gasped in pain as he held onto your lower back.

“What’s wrong.” He said pulling back quickly with a frown looking at your body. Thinking he had hurt you

“Nothing.” Trying to move his hand but Katsuki wasn’t budging. Vermillion eyes narrowing

“You’re lying.” He said and he pinched your back making you whimper.

“Ow. Ow. Ow. Okay.” You said

“What did you do.” Katsuki asked, his hands on your hips holding you.

“I moved the box… myself.” You admitted and his eyes narrowed.

“What the hell were you thinking? You could’ve called me. That box is bigger than you.” He yelled as you threw back your head at his scolding of you knowing it was because he loves you.

“You had patrol. And I can do it, I am fully capable of doing things by myself

“You could have called me. You know I would’ve come back to move the box.” He said with a frustrated look. “Why didn’t you call me, you never call me. I’m your boyfriend I’m supposed to do it. I’m supposed to open jars for you, move heavy objects, and fix things for you. Let me do it. Now you’re hurt.” He said

“It’s fine I’ll be okay just a couple of days and my back will be fine.” You lied to comfort him.

“Don’t lie to me, how bad does it hurt.” He said concerned

“An 8,”

“Jesus-“

“Calm down.”

“No next time you need something call me or I’m gonna lose it. I don’t care if you don’t feel like walking and you call me to carry you up the stairs. You call me.” Katsuki said. “What kind of boyfriend am I to have you throwing out your back to move something.”

“The kind that saves people for a living and loves me when I do stupid things like hurt my back.” You said with doe eyes you knew that made him melt. Bringing him in by the back of his neck for a kiss.

Pressing his forehead to yours and rubbing his face, his favorite action of yours. Never truly getting mad at you when you loved him.

“Did you call a doctor? You could’ve slipped a disc, or-“

You laughed at how anal he could be. “No I did not, I will be fine in a couple days.”

“How do you know that?” He asked

“I swear you are just as stressed as Izuku.” You said kissing him.

He grumbled rubbing your leg, “Don’t compare me to shitty Deku. I worry because I love you and you are a moron.”

“You’re best friends for a reason, and I am a moron that loves you and I’m going to ask for your help right now.”

Katuski ignored your first comment, “Is that so?”

“Yes because I need you to help me walk to the kitchen. I’m hungry and I’ve been stuck on this couch.”

Katsuki picked you up by your armpits and walked you to the kitchen with your legs wrapped around his waist.

“How was patrol?” You asked

“Great. I love fighting with a bank robber when my girlfriend is injuring herself because she won’t pick up the phone to call me.” He said with an attitude all you could do was roll your eyes.

“How long are you going to be mad at me.” You said tugging on his blonde hair. He grunted at your hands handling him.

Katsuki sat you gently on one of the chairs. Standing in between your legs, both arms caging you, and dropping his head.

“I’m not mad at you, im pissed that you won’t call me. Being a pro hero isn’t going to kill me you are.” He grumbled and you laughed.

“What do you want to eat?” He asked pulling away to cook for you.

“Whatever you want to cook.”

You sat in the kitchen as he cooked and you tried to help.

Trying to open a jar and your boyfriend gave you the dirtiest look.

“What did we just talk about.” He said wanting to snatch the jar out of your hand.

You held it out to him.

“Cut me some slack, please. I am used to being independent for as long as I’ve been alive.” You said

“We have been together for almost a year now. And I am here now for you. So relax please. I like taking care of you.” He said grabbing your hand and giving it a kiss. “We bought the house to be together and I can baby you.”

“You are such a sap.”

“The headline yesterday was “Dynamight’s Rage.” He replied his back turned to you cooking one of your favorite meals.

“Yes you’re so scary baby.” You sarcastically said

Both of you knowing that he had a temper and could terrify anyone. But as scary as Katsuki was he was far more scared of you when you got in your moods.

Katsuki finished cooking for you, placed you back on the couch, and made you sit there as he built the bookshelves.

He opened the box with a tool kit and instructions. You sat on the couch eating the food he made. The living room covered in styrofoam packaging and cardboard.

Even after a grueling shift, your boyfriend had cooked you a full dinner and was assembling shelves just for you.

You were type A and liked to be in control and do things yourself. Bakugo was also type A and trying to build it as you tried to control.

“No baby it’s screw A that’s screw H.” You said reading the instructions he threw.

He didn’t listen to anyone but you got half an ear.

“I know what I’m doing I don’t need the instructions.” Bakugo griped.

“I’m serious, please do it right. My books are my babies.” You complained.

“Woman you already injured yourself, can you let me do this.”

“If you did it right then I wouldn’t be complaining.” You shot back.

He let out a huff ignoring you continuing to build.

After the third time of him doing something you didn’t like you got frustrated.

Getting up off the couch, Katsuki heard you move not even turning.

“Get back on that couch before I strap you down.” He said not looking up. His red eyes focused on the wood planks.

You continued to move off the couch with a wince and Katuski turned around from the floor narrowing his eyes.

“Ass back on the couch. Now.”

“You’re not doing it right.” You whined halfway up.

He stood up his big body towering over you. Guiding back to the couch.

“You are a control freak. Sit down before I lock you in the bedroom or in the car to drive you to the hospital.” Katsuki threatened sitting you back down and throwing a heavy blanket on you to hold you down.

He was always so gentle with you even when he was ticked off.

After about an hour he saved the last bookshelf for tomorrow to cuddle you in bed.

“I told you I knew what I was doing.”

You hummed at his cockiness. He had given you some Advil and was gently massaging your back in your bed. You trapped in his big arms, your chests touching. His thick fingers gently pressing against your lower back.

“You like being my superman huh?” You said into his chest.

“Superman? Screw him I’m your Dynamight baby.”

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou fluff #mha imagine #mha imagines #mha scenarios #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #mha x reader #bakugo scenarios #mha #bakugo imagines #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki x y/n #katsuki fluff #bakugou imagine #bakugo fluff #bakugou x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo x you

[she-posts-nerdy-stuff]

Kaz and Wylan’s potential to become each other

Wow, you guys were a lot more excited about this than I was expecting! I made a post briefly mentioning this idea and it got way more attention that I was expecting, so as promised here is my explanation and I’ve tagged people who asked for it at the end :)

*WARNING: CONSTANT SPOILERS AHEAD*

Ok so the driving forcing of this comparison is rooted in the similarities of their characters and their backstories. Both of them lost a close family member, were abused by men with power over them, and experienced a form of ‘rebirth’ by nearly drowning in the Ketterdam canals. They also both experience disability; Kaz using a cane for a broken leg that didn’t heal correctly, and Wylan having severe dyslexia that prevented him from learning to read. A key difference that separates them, and arguably is a representation of the difference in the way their experiences have shaped their personalities as well, is that Kaz’s disability is a direct result of his chasing after vengeance, whereas Wylan’s disability was used as an excuse for his father to abuse him for what we as the reader see to be a minimum of eight years. (I’m assuming this because he is 16 in the book and was 8 when his mother ‘died’, which is the point that he describes he father to have “given up on him”)

I’m gonna quickly hop to parallels between Kaz and Pekka Rollins, bare with me I promise it’s relevant, which are quickly established as a key part of the novels. When Inej compares them, Kaz’s reply is “I don’t sell girls, I don’t con helpless kids out of their money” to which she gently responds “look at the floor of the Crow Club, Kaz”. Aside from this being the heartbreaking line that it is, it also does a very good job of highlighting their similarities and a similarity that they share with Jan Van Eck. When they meet the merch at the end of the first book they meet on an island called Vellgeluk, which is described as being popular with smugglers and slavers like those who kidnapped Inej. The other Crows are surprised Van Eck knows about Vellgeluk, but Kaz simply says “maybe he isn’t the upstanding merch he appears to be”. Great subtle foreshadowing for his double cross, and great establishment of the link between these three characters. In fact, Van Eck and Kaz echo each other more than you might think. Just as Kaz states “Greed bows to me, it is my servant and my lever”, Van Eck says “Yes, Chaos will come. And I will be it’s master”. In their first meeting, Van Eck accuses Kaz of murder and gambling with people’s lives, and in return Kaz points out that 1 in 5 of Van Eck’s ships will never return because they will sink or “fall prey to pirates”, so they are both doing the same thing, and that they both have the same motivations for this bloodshed: “profit”.

Now consider how often Wylan echoes Kaz, and therefore whether he echoes his father as well. They both have exceptional memories, Kaz’s being photographic/eidetic and Wylan being able to put words to music in his head to remember pages worth of infomation - this is even emphasised by Kaz being able to count cards when he gambles, saying “he could keep track of the game for up to three decks” and Jesper asking Wylan if he’d be able to apply “that trick to counting cards” to which he replies “probably. But I won’t”. They also both have impressive intellects, which could have placed them far higher up in the world than they’ve found themselves if it weren’t for cruel circumstances - Van Eck even comments on this, saying it angers him that Kaz has so much potential but does nothing with it. Then there’s their tendency to avoid being vulnerable. I think we too often overlook the fact that no-one knows Jan Van Eck hired two men to kill his son, not even Jesper, and that not even Inej knows what happened to Kaz on the Reaper’s Barge. Jesper believes that Wylan left his house as a result of his father’s abuse but that it was still his choice, and Inej has no information beyond “Pekka Rollins killed my brother” and the explanation of the con when Kaz faces off with Rollins in Crooked Kingdom. I genuinely believe that the biggest thing separating them is where they place blame for their situations. Kaz blames Pekka Rollins. Wylan actually blames himself.

Arguably, although he catalysed the events, if Rollins hadn’t conned Kaz and Jordie they still would have suffered in an almost identical way: they would both contract the Queen’s Lady Plague, they wouldn’t have enough money for both medicine and boarding, and Jordie would die. In that scenario Kaz would have still been left penniless and alone with nowhere to go, but he wouldn’t have had anyone to blame. In fact, he may have died as well because it’s really his drive for vengeance that makes him strive for survival. When he’s on the Reaper’s Barge he wonders if it’s worth trying to survive because there’s nothing waiting for him in the city, but then he realises that the chance of revenge is waiting for him, and that thought drives him to stay alive every day that follows. Without Rollins, Kaz probably would have blamed himself for Jordie’s death, and I’m backing that up with the singular moment when he’s first attacked by parem-high tide makers and has a brief “boy’s fear” that they are ghosts. He thinks, for a split second, that a ghost has come to kill him and what does he say? He says “Jordie had come for vengeance at last”. This is chapter three. We have no idea who Jordie is. With the limited information we had at the time and what we’d just seen happen to Big Bolliger, I assumed it was someone in Kaz’s gang that he had backstabbed and who has died because of what he did. But no. This single line leads me to wholeheartedly believe that Kaz blames Rollins, who realistically was only a small part of his suffering, quite so vividly to emotionally avoid blaming himself.

Wylan blames himself until around chapters 14 to 16 of Crooked Kingdom. His experiences with mental, emotional, and physical abuse have actively convinced him that his so-called ‘inadequacies’ caused a change in his father’s behaviour. But Wylan not being able to read didn’t magically turn Van Eck from a lucky family man into someone willing to try “specialists, tonics, beatings, [and] hypnotism” against his child. The fact is that Van Eck, like many abusers, is masterfully manipulative in everything he does. Wylan describes seeing his parents’ marriage as a happy one, but he also says “the argued all the time, sometimes about me. But I remember them laughing a lot too”. He’s quick to defend their relationship as if it isn’t supposed to be marred by argument and he lays blame on himself by suggesting that he was the root of their unhappiness. He also says that around Alys, Jan Van Eck becomes who he once was around Marya; a kinder, gentler man. I don’t think we’re meant to assume that he’s acting any differently with Alys in private right now, but I do think we’re meant to assume that he would have done down the line if he hadn’t been arrested (and presumably she filed for divorce). In chapter 14 of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan learns that his mother is still alive but that his father had her committed and declared insane so he could use it as grounds for divorce and marry Alys instead. And you know what happens? Wylan blames himself. He says, verbatim, to Jesper: “You don’t understand. It’s my fault”. He explains that Van Eck did this so he could have a “real heir”; because Marya produced a “faulty” child he needed a new woman to give him the child he wanted. That’s a messed up thing to think on so many levels, but Wylan doesn’t blame Van Eck because he is still being conditioned by his abuse. He and Kaz experienced different kinds of abuse, and Kaz wasn’t conditioned to blame anyone but his abuser, so that’s what he does. When Wylan does begin to blame Van Eck, he is immediately taken in by this same idea of revenge. Kaz says “you were angry. I needed you righteous” when explaining why he sent Wylan to St Hilde blind in chapter 16. Wylan was angry with his father before, but he wasn’t actively seeking vengeance. Now that he has a cause, someone other than himself to fight for? He tells Kaz “well, now you have me”.

Both of them have this potential to be fuelled by revenge or self-hatred, and although they go about it in different ways and lean towards different sides of the scale they are both balancing between those two extremes for the entire duology. Their past experiences have, and their future experiences could, tip them further either way but right now they are almost playing with the line.

Thank you so much if you’ve bothered to read this far, sorry for the long post but you did ask for an essay, so there you go. Tagging the people who asked - @kazooyay @mikasimaginairyworld @sunseeking-cyptid @moonlit-aura @alexplutoplanet @gandalfsmallnaturals @livsarthaven @goodomenstrack23 @origami-butterfly @flower-biatch @bookworm010307 @thesunniest @wherela @space-ace-thoughts @sixofbabycrows @antisocial-burrito

Sorry if I missed anyone!!!

#grishaverse #leigh bardugo #six of crows #crooked kingdom #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #kanej #wesper #kanej supremacy #wesper my beloved #inej ghafa #jesper fahey #nina zenik #matthias helvar #jan van eck #marya van eck #marya hendriks #wylan hendricks #jesper and wylan #six of crows wylan #kazzle dazzle #kaz rietveld #jordie rietveld #kaz and jordie #pekka rollins

[homelanderbutbig]

The Only One He Trusts (G/T Homelander x Reader)

1248 words. Pure fluff. Homelander is 8 feet tall. Reader is non-descriptive. Established relationship.

He big angry but you calm him down.

You hear Homelander coming before you see him. Despite his height, he can be incredibly lightfooted when he wants to be. You couldn't believe how many times he's snuck up on you from behind without you even hearing him. But when he is angry, he wants to make sure everyone knows.

His footsteps are loudly coming closer to you, as you sit on the couch reading a book. You put your book down as Homelander enters the penthouse, and you can tell immediately how mad he is by the irritated expression on his face.

"I can't fucking believe these people!" he roars, throwing his hands exasperatingly in the air as he begins pacing around the living room. "I make one little mistake and I drop three fucking points. Three! Like those motherfucking mouthbreathers have any idea what I do for them!"

You sigh as you watch him continue ranting about his day. To everyone else at Vought, Homelander's temper is something to be avoided at all costs. If you say the wrong thing, he will not hesitate to show his disapproval and crush you without a second thought. But you know him differently than everyone else, you see past his posturing to what he desperately wants to hide from the world. He wants to be loved, to be looked at without fear. And you are the only one he trusts to give that to him, without any ulterior motive other than to share your affection with him.

You slowly descend onto the steps to get off the couch, a feat on its own as everything in Homelander's penthouse was built taller for his size. You are grateful he had steps put in at the bottom of all of the furniture, just for you. He immediately stops pacing when you place your feet on the ground, although his brow remains furrowed and his hands are still clenched so tight you are surprised he hasn't ripped the leather.

"Oh sweetheart," you say softly as you walk towards him, with a look on your face only showing concern for his wellbeing. This sympathy that magically quells whatever anger he had just a few minutes ago. Even though you are only eye-level to his abs, Homelander feels small when you talk to him like this. As if he is a lost child who is crying out for his mother.

Homelander watches silently as you look up to him and raise your hand to his fist, gently stroking his knuckles. He can't help but loosen his grip, but he hesitates to hold your hand. There is still a fire burning in him, evident by his face involuntarily twitching as he fights with his emotions.

"You had a bad day today, didn't you?" you ask him. He lowers his head, quietly nodding, but he is unable to look you in the eyes.

"Everyone is allowed to have bad days. Even superheroes," you say as you continue to pet his hand. "You don't have to be angry anymore, sweetie. Let me take care of you". Whatever fury he had left quickly fizzles out as his expression shifts to sadness, and his eyes start to become watery. He finally starts to open his hand up, allowing you to maneuver your hand in between his large fingers.

Before when Homelander became angry, he would simply stew on his emotions, turning more and more into himself as his only real companion was the man he saw in the mirror. The man who appeared to be looking out for him, but in reality only kept him locked perpetually in this state of numbness and negativity. The antagonism enforced by people cowering in fear of him, not only for his powers but for his inhuman height. The diabolical nature of him that made him a god amongst men, yet also alienated him completely from everyone, human and supe alike.

But when you entered his life, you helped him to let go of that apathy, to cast aside the horrific parental role he made for himself and see the young boy inside begging for love. The tenderness that he didn't think an inhuman god like him would ever receive, or would require as the man in the mirror would tell him. Gods are above human emotions. And yet, he felt no greater happiness than when you allowed him to express his pent up feelings, to allow himself to be human.

"Will you come down for me, honey?" you ask him, as you see the walls he built up from his rage begin to crumble. "You can trust me". He blinks away the forming tears as he carefully descends to a cross-legged sitting position, mindful not to sit on his cape. An old habit he never let go of, beaten into him as a child.

You slowly climb onto Homelander's legs to get closer to his face. He looks at you like a scolded puppy, with tearful sad eyes, waiting for you to tell him everything's alright. As you gently caress the sides of his face, he cannot help but close his eyes and lean into your touch. He raises his immense hands to your back to keep you propped up as he presses himself further into your fingers, relishing the way you touch him as if he is made of porcelain. You can feel the wetness of his tears as his big head nestles into the nape of your neck, resting on your shoulder.

You cannot help but smile at how delicate he is with you, remembering back to the first time you tried giving him this kind of attention. How horrified he looked when his head accidentally pushed you down to the ground when he attempted to lean into your touch. How he cried over thinking he injured you, and that you would leave him out of fright. And how easily you soothed him that it was only an accident, and it didn't make you love him any less.

Moving your hands from his cheeks to his undercut, you start scratching his hair with your nails. You’ve learned how much this simple act settles him down, and if it were up to him, you'd be doing this 24/7. He reflexively grips you slightly harder as you scratch his scalp, although you know he would never hurt you. He only wants to bring you closer, to hold you and never let go.

"Mmmm…." Homelander mumbles into your neck, the heavy weight of his voice rumbling through your entire body. You let out a brief chuckle, happy to see him finally starting to relax. The tension he came in with is leaving his body as he melts into you. When he's like this he reminds you of a cat, purring at your affection and rubbing his head contently into you.

"That's it baby boy, let it go," you softly whisper into his ear as he continues to sink into you. "You don't have to hold onto your anger anymore. I’m here for you."

"Promise?" you hear him murmur quietly. His voice is so faint it reminds you of the lonely little boy he keeps locked inside, hidden beneath his godlike titan form. The boy he refuses to let anyone else embrace but you, because he trusts you. Out of every single being on this earth, Homelander only trusts you.

"From the bottom of my heart, I promise," you reassure him, moving to kiss his cheek.

"I will always be here for you."

#the boys #the boys tv #homelander #homelander x reader #g/t #size difference #my writing

[ofstoriesandstardust]

quarter life crisis (j.h.s.)

a/n: this is wildly influenced by my own life so i have no idea if this is even relatable but you can have it anyways.

summary: Rejection from a potential grad school stings more than they realize.

inspired by taylor bickett’s “quarter life crisis” | part of the maroon universe

warnings: implied/referenced sex, swearing, age gap (reader is 22, Jake is 33), alcohol mentions, writing this was kind of cathartic, 

word count: 5,757

Unfortunately, we are unable to offer you a place in our program at this time...

The bright screen wavers in front of you as you blink back the stinging of your tears. Your boyfriend’s hand rubs comfortably on your back as you shut the lid of the laptop, slumping down in your chair. 

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend. 

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend who was one of the best Naval aviators in the country. 

“Hey, it’s okay. It’s just Stanford.” 

Just Stanford, like it wasn’t one of the top schools in the country. 

Aim for the skies, your Dad always said. 

“Yeah.” You mutter, sliding off the chair at the counter of the kitchen island. 

“You have like what, seven other programs?” He says, following you as you walk towards the fridge. “You’ll get into the program that’s meant for you. Besides, I selfishly didn’t want you going so far from me.” 

You sigh, turning to face your boyfriend. 

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend who wouldn’t ever know the sting of rejection. 

Rejection and Jake Seresin were antonyms, words that would never go together, polar opposites. 

Much like you and Jake. 

Jake, a 33-year-old established Naval aviator with two confirmed kills who had his whole career right in front of him. 

You, a 22-year-old college graduate with no direction and no idea what she was doing. 

You and Jake were antonyms, people that would never go together, polar opposites. 

“Yeah.” You say, realizing you’ve been quiet for too long as Jake’s eyebrows furrow. 

“Sweetheart-” He says before cutting himself off, looking a bit at a loss. “What can I do to make it better?” 

You shrug, giving him a small smile. “Nothing. Why don’t you go on to the Hard Deck without me? Think I’m gonna take a minute.” 

He hesitates. “You sure?”

You breath out, crossing your arms as you nod. “Positive.” 

He nods, still looking a bit skeptical as he leans down, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. “See you soon?” 

“Yeah.” 

-

You groan, rolling over as you blink awake. The TV is still on, the title screen for Treasure Planet pulled up as you search for your phone. 

It’s a tough task, ensnared in a tangle of blankets and squinting from the too bright TV in a pitch black living room. You finally latch on to it, wedged between two cushions, quickly looking away as the bright screen lights up at you. 

Your head pounds as you struggle to turn the brightness down on the phone, the cry you’d had earlier leaving your throat dry and head in need of a painkiller. You swallow, throat feeling like sandpaper as you struggle to sift through the 49 text messages, not to mention the 8 missed calls. 

You don’t think you’d ever been so popular. 

The texts are mostly from Jake, a handful from Brad and Nat and Reuben and even one from your Dad (Sorry to hear about Stanford kid). 

The calls are all from Jake though. 

Hey, it’s been a while, where are you? Call me back. 

Hey, this is the fourth time I called you, why aren’t answering?

Hey, I’m starting to get worried. Shit, I knew I shouldn’t have left you alone. Please call me back. 

I will drive to your house. I know where your Dad keeps the spare key. Please just call me back and tell me you’re okay. 

Okay, okay, I get the hint. You want to be left alone. Just send a smoke signal that you’re alive or something? I’m just kind of worried about you. Okay, I- Okay, talk to you later. 

You groan, a quick glance at the time telling you it’s almost midnight. You must’ve cried yourself to sleep for an unintended six hour nap. You shoot off a quick text to Jake, letting him know you just fell asleep. You respond to the meme Reuben sent you, confirming the two of you were still on for drinks with kids from your high school tomorrow, friends of his he still kept in touch with. You knew Max and Lauren and Joy and Tristan and Cody when you went to school, but you’d never been quite cool enough to hang out with them.  

You pull the fridge open, searching for the leftover pizza best you can with the bright LED lights in the fridge. 

“What are you doing?” You yelp, turning around as you see Maverick standing there in his pajamas, half-asleep. 

“Getting food... sorry, did I wake you?” 

He shakes his head, yawning. “Jake called, asked if we heard from you. You were asleep when we came in so I just wanted to make sure you were still here.” 

You nod, glancing down at your phone. Jake still hadn’t texted you back. “Yeah, I just texted him.” 

“Okay, well, I’m going back to bed. Sorry about the Stanford decision.” 

You give a half-shrug. “Just Stanford.” 

He blindly pats your shoulder before yawning again. “K, goodnight.” And then he’s shuffling back to the stairs to go to bed as you groan, shutting the fridge. 

-

“You look pretty.” Penny comments as you walk into the Hard Deck. 

“Thank you.” 

“Got a hot date?” Amelia teases. 

“Nope, just drinks with Reuben.” 

“Let me go put this box in the back and then we’re good to go, yeah?” You nod as Reuben rounds the bar with the box in his hands. He pauses, turning back to you. “Do you remember Anna who went to high school with us?” 

You blink, nodding slowly. 

Of course you remembered her. She’d been your best friend for seven years. 

“Yeah.” 

“Did you hear she was engaged?” 

You nod again as Jake’s arm slides around your waist. “I did hear that, yeah.” 

“Well, her and her fiancé are in town, Tyler I think his name is, and so I invited them to go with us.” 

You nod as Reuben turns, heading for the back. 

“Hi sweetheart.” Jake whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder. 

“Sorry I disappeared last night.” You whisper back, but Jake doesn’t get a chance to respond as Bradley cuts through the conversation. 

“Weren’t you and Anna, like best friends?” Bradley asks, taking a sip of his beer. “I remember her because she had a huge crush on me, which was always kind of strange. She was like my second sister.” 

“Yeah, well Anna decided to stop being friends with me a long time ago.” You say with a sigh. 

“You and Anna were friends?” Reuben asks, coming back into the room. 

You nod. “For like seven years.” 

“I never knew that.” He said, eyebrows furrowing. “I never even saw you guys talk to each other at school.” 

You huff out a laugh, feeling somewhat bitter. “Yeah, because I wasn’t cool enough to be seen with her. It would ruin her street cred.” 

“That’s shitty.” Jake comments, tugging you between his legs to rest his chin on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.” 

You give a half-shrug, blinking back the sting of tears yet again. 

“It’s whatever.” 

It’s not whatever. 

You’d known Anna since you were eleven years old, since the two of you stood next to each other in line for your English class on the first day of the 6th grade, becoming friends because the two of you were wearing the same shirt but in different colors. 

Anna was at your house more often than not. You’d been the first person she’d called when her brother got cancer. You’d walked to her house after your parents told you that they were getting a divorce. She used to come over whenever your Dad had cancer treatments and make pancakes with you and watch Glee so you didn’t have to think about it. 

And then one day, at the start of your senior year, she’d cut you out. Blocked your number and stopped talking to you. She’d shown back up again before you started college but hadn’t stuck around very long that time either. 

She’d disappeared for a few years and came back with a fiancé who was her soulmate and a successful job in a new city across the country. 

And here you were, back in San Diego, with a shiny new grad school rejection and a dead end bartending job your Dad had hooked up for you and a boyfriend you hadn’t said I love you to yet. 

Comparatively, one of you was doing better than the other and it wasn’t the one who had gotten screwed over. 

It made your chest burn, thinking about how you had always thought you’d be there when she got engaged and had to find out from Instagram of all places. 

Put a lot of things into perspective for you. 

You blink, realizing you’ve been quiet for too long again as the group stares at you. “Sorry.” 

Reuben watches you carefully. “You ready to go?” 

You take a shaky breath, nodding. “Yep, let’s go.” 

-

“Reuben!” Max yells as the two of you walk over. “Took you long enough!” 

Reuben laughs, pulling Max into a hug before introducing you. Max nods, giving you a side hug as Lauren’s eyes light up at the sight of you. 

“You were in our AP Literature class.” Max says, pulling away from you.

Lauren groans, leaning over the table to give you a hug. “Don’t bring that class up, Maxwell. I’m still not over the fact that we all failed the AP test.” 

“Yeah, I’d like to not revisit the year Max and I dated.” Joy says, offering you a smile from across the table. 

Max sticks out his tongue at her as your and Reuben sit at the table. “You remember Tristan, yeah?” 

You nod as he raises his glass to you. “Good to see you again.”

“Glad to see we all survived that awful AP Lit class.” 

“And then I don’t think you ever met my older brother Cody?” 

“You got bumped up to my History class your freshman year, right?” Cody asks as he extends a hand over the table. You nod, confirming his words as you shake his hand. 

“Hey Cody, I was in that class too!” Anna protests from the end of the table. 

You offer the girl a small smile. “Hi Anna.” 

“You know, I didn’t know the two of you were friends.” Reuben comments, gesturing between you and Anna. 

“She was too busy pretending I didn’t exist.” You mutter under your breath, doing your best to disguise the words with a cough. 

“Okay, why don’t you boys go get us drinks?” Lauren asks. 

“So you can sit here and gossip and have girl talk?” Max says, raising his beer to his lips with a smirk. 

“Yes. Get lost.” Joy deadpans. The boys grumble but follow her orders, even Anna’s fiancé following the group. 

“So how have you been?” Lauren asks, a genuine small lighting up her face. 

You shrug. “Pretty good.” 

“Are you and Reuben dating?” Joy asks, earning a nudge from Lauren. 

You chuckle, shaking your head. “No, God no. We’re just co-workers, pretty sure my Dad put him up to this, always saying I need to get out of the house. Besides, I have a boyfriend.” 

“How is your Dad?” Anna asks, taking Max’s chair so she could scoot closer. 

“Good. He’s good. He and Maverick just celebrated their anniversary and he’s in remission.” 

“So... backtrack, boyfriend?” Lauren says, propping her head up on a closed fist. “Please, do tell.” 

“Can I see a picture?” Anna asks. You nod, pulling your phone out from your back pocket, swiping through for an acceptable photo of the two of you. You land on a picture from a barbecue Penny had hosted recently, a picture Javy had taken of the two of you when neither of you were paying attention. 

His smile was wide, hair messy from rolling around in the grass all afternoon as the team played football. Your arms were around his neck, his hands on your waist as the both of you smile, deep in conversation. 

“His name is Jake. He’s a Navy pilot and works with Bradley and Maverick. It’s how we met.” 

“Dating a flyboy, I’m sure your dad is thrilled.” Anna comments, raising her eyebrows. “Isn’t he- He’s kind of out of your league. No offense.” 

And there it is. 

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend, out of your league. 

Of course it was something you knew, but not something you needed to hear, least of all from her. 

“Oh, he’s cute.” Lauren coos, peering over at the phone. “How serious is it?” 

You shrug. “Dunno, we’ve only been dating for a few months. Just kind of seeing where it goes.” 

“Don’t be fooled, Jake’s hopelessly in love with her.” Reuben comments as the boys appear back at the table. 

“I don’t know about that.” You say, taking a gulp of the drink Reuben has set down in front of you. 

“Is the sex good?” Joy asks, causing you to choke. 

“What?” You choke out, lungs burning. 

“Well, is it?” 

“Um-” 

“You don’t have to answer that.” Max intervenes, tossing a look at Joy. 

“No, I’m with Joy. He looks like he knows how to fuck, I’m curious if he’s good.” 

“Lauren!” Reuben protests, crossing his arms. “Back off.” 

“I second that.” Tristan says. 

“Oh, please like you didn’t hear about Joy’s sex life when she dated Max.” Lauren says, narrowing her eyes. 

“So?” Anna prompts. “Is he good in bed?” 

You shrink back, suddenly aware that everyone’s looking at you. 

You had told Jake that you hadn’t really been with any one else. Not any one meaningful, anyways. You doubted that the sex was as good for him as it was you, but you hardly had anything to compare to. 

“I mean, he’s a six foot Navy aviator with an ego. What do you think?” 

Joy raises an eyebrow. “And what about size?” 

“Absolutely not, do not answer that. I still have to serve him at the Hard Deck, please do not give me intimate details about Seresin’s dick size.” 

“I wasn’t going to...?” You say, offering him a curious look. “You picked me up after the first time we hooked up. If I was going to tell you any intimate details, I would’ve by now.” 

“Wait, wait, wait, what?” Lauren says, waving her hands.

You sigh. “Jake and I hooked up as a one-night stand before we ever officially got together. I sort of fled the morning after and Reuben picked me up.” 

“Man’s knows how to leave a hickey, that’s for sure.” Reuben mutters. 

“Okay, let’s talk about literally anything else.” Max says, cutting the conversation off. “You applying to grad schools or anything?” 

“Yeah. Just kind of vibing at the moment, though.” 

“Didn’t-” Rueben start, but then cuts himself off, frowning. “Never mind.” 

“Yeah, please don’t bring that up right now.” You mutter. “What about you Max? What’ve you been up to?” 

“Bring up what?” Anna asks. 

Reuben sighs, glancing at you. “Nothing.” 

It’s too late, everyone looking at you now. 

“I just- I just found out I got rejected from a grad school yesterday. That’s all.” 

That fact that it was Stanford you got rejected from goes unspoken. 

“What happened to the gifted kid we all knew in high school?” Anna laughs. 

“Burned out in college trying to be good enough for her parents.” You snap, shooting Anna a look. “She’s currently having a quarter-life crisis and would like everyone to please stop asking her about it, so Max, what have you been up to?” 

The boy just blinks.

-

“How was drinks?” 

“Awful.” You groan, all but collapsing on to the couch next to Maverick. 

Reuben sighs, sticking in his hands in his pockets. “I don’t remember Anna being such a bitch.” 

“You don’t maybe. I do.” You say, sitting up to look at him. 

“Anna who always spent a lot of time around here?” Maverick asks. You nod and he clicks his tongue. “I never liked her all that much.”

You sigh. “How she behaved tonight? That’s how she treated me for seven years and I just let her. And yet she’s still the one who’s doing better.” 

Reuben nods, conceding to you. “Well, if Anna doesn’t come with us again, would you want to come back out with us?” 

You shrug. “I guess.” 

“You don’t like them?” 

“No, I think they’re great people. I don’t think they like me very much.” 

Reuben scoffs. “What’re you talking about? Lauren and Max adore you. As does Tristan, they want you to come back out with us. You should’ve seen Lauren’s face when I said you were coming tonight.” 

You sigh, unsure of how to explain to him that you felt like you would never escape who you were in high school, like they’d look at you and still see that girl you had been. 

It really hadn’t been that long since you’d been at the high school that had made you feel suffocated with a life that felt dead-end. 

Rueben was great, he’d always been. The best thing about him was his heart. 

And his friends were great too. 

But in high school, the lines had been drawn in the sand. You knew where you stood with them and it was about several social status levels below them. 

Just because you now had a pretty, perfect boyfriend didn’t change that. 

Reuben says your name, making you realize you’ve once against fallen silent for too long. “Sorry, what?” 

“We’ll do next time on your turf, okay? You can pick wherever and whatever.” 

You sigh, standing up from the couch. “Reuben, just leave it, okay? We’re never gonna gel as friends.” 

“You and them? Or us?” He asks, with a frown on his face. 

You wince, internally cursing your slip. “Reuben-”

“You still think I care that you might've been, what? A little dorky in high school?  I saw a girl who was bright and intelligent and passionate. What did it matter that she went on a few tangents about the State of Union address because her Dad was there? You were one of the smartest people I interacted with in high school.” 

You want to snap and say, yeah that’s the problem. I was the smartest kid you knew and knew exactly what I wanted and now I struggle to get up in the morning because I don’t even know who I am anymore. 

But all you can do is sigh and look at Reuben. He scoffs, shaking his head, stalking to the front door before slamming it shut. Maverick winces as you struggle not to cry again. 

“What the fuck was that about?” 

“Nothing, I’m just a drama queen.” You mutter. “I’m going to bed.” 

-

“Hi.” You look up from where you’re cleaning glasses to see Lauren and Max. 

“Hey, Reuben’s just in the back if you want me to go grab him for you.” You offer, sticking a thumb to the back where Reuben was helping Penny sort the new delivery you got today. 

Lauren shakes her head. “No. I just-” She sighs, looking at Max. “We just wanted to come say that well, I think we got off on the wrong foot. I love you, I think you’re great, and I’d love for you to come back out with us sometime.” 

You huff out a laugh, setting the glass down. “Reuben put you up to this?” 

She frowns. “No?” 

Max sighs. “Look, I don’t even like Anna. None of us liked Anna, the only one who was friends with her was Reuben.” 

“That’s only because she was a part of a different friend group.” Reuben says, appearing from the back with another crate of clean glasses. 

You snort, grabbing the crate from him. “Funny to me you had multiple friend groups, I didn’t even have one.” 

“Oh, c’mon, you had a friend group.” 

You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah? Who, Reuben?” 

He falters, clearly struggling think of someone. 

“Reuben, I didn’t even get asked to prom. Let’s call a spade a spade, I was a loser.” 

“I think you had your head so far in a book no one ever got a chance to see how great you are.” Lauren amends, offering you a kind smile. “And I’d love if you came and hung out with us again. And we will stop asking about your sex life, I promise.” 

“Why, she doesn’t want to brag?” Jake drawls, appearing next to Lauren. 

“No!” Reuben exclaims. “No intimate details about his dick size! I can’t do it!″ 

Jake gives Reuben a confused look as you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

“This is your boyfriend?” Max asks. You nod. He extends a hand to Max and then Lauren. 

“Jake Seresin.” 

“Nice to meet you.” Lauren says. “You like escape rooms, right? We could do one of those? Boys versus girls.” 

“I don’t know, the last time I did one of those it was with my Mom and I have it on good authority I’m a bit bossy.” 

“The prehistoric ages, when your Mom was around.” Bradley says, appearing next to Jake at the bar. 

“Shut up Bradshaw.” Natasha mutters, wedging herself in between him and Jake. 

“Aw, she’s making friends. It’s like kindergarten all over again, this is so cute.” Coyote teases, appearing behind the group. 

“Reuben and I both have next Monday off. How about laser tag?” You ask, ignoring Coyote even as your cheeks warm. 

Reuben coughs awkwardly. “I’m gonna bow out of this one, thanks.” 

Max startles. “What? Why?”

Reuben shrugs, not sparing you glance. “Cody and I already have plans.”

“Since when?” Lauren asks incredulously. 

“Since last night.” You mutter under your breath. “It’s okay, I think I’m supposed to get dinner with my Dad’s that night. You know, family thing.” 

“We are?” Bradley asks. 

“No, just me and them.” You lie, praying Bradley just accepts it and moves on.

Lauren nods unconvinced. “Well, our door is always open. Just give us a holler, we’ll be around.” 

-

“What happened to dinner with your Dad’s?” 

You grunt, picking up another rock and tossing it in the lake. 

Lake Murray had become little more than a pond over the years, but with the park nearby and walking trails all around it, it became a great place to come to hide away when you needed to think. 

“You know, you are one hard lady to find.” 

“Shut up Jake.” You mutter. 

Your pretty, perfect boyfriend was a liar. He’d had your location since the time you’d gotten too drunk and had just hit share indefinitely when he’d come to pick up from the bar. 

“Is everything okay?” 

“No.” You say honestly, not having been okay in months. 

Still, it stung even more today, waking up to another rejection from a grad school program, this time from your alma mater. 

Jake sighs. “What’s going on?” 

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

He huffs. “I’m worried about you.” 

The Why? sits in your throat, crushed by the guilt that you’ve been making your pretty, perfect boyfriend worry about you. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to.” Is what you mumble out instead, kicking another rock, watching it tumble down the edge towards the lake. 

“Would you please talk to me?” He all but begs, a hint of desperation in his voice. “You’ve been acting strange ever since you got the Stanford decision back and I want to know what’s up with my girlfriend.” 

His girlfriend, who he hasn’t even said I love you to yet, making you wonder if he ever would.

Rationally, you knew it was early, especially if this relationship wasn’t going anywhere. It was unreasonable to expect Jake to return your feelings and it was unreasonable to expect Jake to commit to a girl who didn’t have her shit together. 

“It’s nothing.” You say, keeping your eyes on the deep blue water, slowly lapping at the shore. If you strain your ears you could hear the screaming of kids at the park across the way. 

You hear him shuffle behind you, moving closer, but he doesn’t sit down. “Sweetheart.” He says, but stops. 

You sigh, your heart aching with want, begging you to turn around give him a hug. To let him pull you close and run his fingers through his hair, whispering that it’ll be okay and that he isn’t go anywhere. 

Maybe it would be better if the two of you broke up. 

Maybe he would be better off without you. 

You’re quiet for too long because Jake is sighing and you can hear him take a few steps back. “You want to be alone?” 

You nod. 

He leaves.

-

You blink, the tears stinging at your eyes as Lauren posts a picture of her and Joy with a handful of other girls that had been friends with them in high school. 

my girls xx is what she posts on the story of them out getting drinks and you have to close the app before the stories can continue on.

You sigh, letting the phone rest on your chest as you hear Maverick downstairs, crooning along to Voulez-Vous as he cooks dinner with your Dad. You should put your phone away, pull yourself together enough to go down there, and spend time with them. It’d probably do wonders for you to take a break from your phone, from social media, where it feels like everyone is living a better life than you would ever have. 

Your phone buzzes on your chest but you don’t bother to check it, still just listening the commotion from downstairs. Maverick has set the fire alarm off again. 

There’s a knock against your window, causing you to startle. With big windows that overlooked the ocean, birds would occasionally fly into the glass, but this was definitely more of a knock than a thud. 

You lift your head, catching sight of your boyfriend’s blonde hair shining in the setting evening sun, casting a warm orange glow over the room. 

“What the fuck?” You mutter to yourself, pulling yourself off the bed and over to window, pulling it open. He grins at you. 

“Pizza delivery.” 

You blink, staring at him. “How the fuck did you get up here? Why are you up here?” 

He shrugs. “A magician never tells their secret and you weren’t answering your phone. C’mon, come have a picnic with me.” He nods his head down to the sandy area just off of your back porch. You know it’s conveniently just out of sight for either of your Dads if they were to walk past the sliding glass doors. You sigh, shaking your head. “Give me two minutes.” 

He nods as you shut the window. You pad down the stairs, slipping into the kitchen for the bottle of champagne leftover from your grad party months ago. Maverick grins at you as you pull the bottle from the fridge. 

“Doing some day drinking?” He asks. 

“Something like that.” You say, grabbing two glasses from the cabinet. He eyes them. “In case, you know, I spill.” He nods, giving you an unconvinced look. 

“Jake’s outside, isn’t he?” He whispers. 

“Maybe.” You whisper back as your Dad emerges form the pantry. 

“What’re we whispering about?” He asks and Maverick gives him a grin. 

“About how I find you so sexy, baby-”

You groan, cutting the man off. “Gross, stop. I’m going outside to enjoy the sunset.” 

Your Dad nods, too preoccupied with Maverick. You’d tell them they better be careful or the food will burn again but it’d distract your Dad and you know Maverick is giving you an opportunity to get outside unquestioned. 

You slip out on to the patio, catching sight of Jake resting on the blankets he’s laid out, pizza boxes open in front of him. 

You set the champagne down along with the glasses, catching sight of the white box. You open it as he pops open the champagne, revealing the chocolate-covered strawberries. 

“Pizza and chocolate-covered strawberries? Thought you said the bar was in hell if this was romance.” You tease, sliding the box back across the blankets. He huffs out a laugh as you settle down on to the blankets. 

“Well, maybe I could be learning a thing or two from Troy Bolton.” 

-

Your head rests against Jake’s thigh, his head propped up near your feet. You feel warm, the alcohol and good food coursing through you as you watch the setting sun turns blood red at the horizon. Jake’s other hand is resting on your foot, thumb gently running over your ankle. 

“Thanks for doing this.” You say and he gives you a smile. A genuine one, not the lazy grins he usually he puts on for the rest of the world. 

“Anything for you darling.” He pauses for a moment, his movements on your ankle continuing. “But I do want to talk about why you’ve been so weird lately.” 

You shrug, shifting. “I’m just feeling weird, I guess. Call it a quarter life crisis or whatever, but I’m just feeling a bit strange.” 

“How so?” 

“I don’t know. I’m not where I thought I’d be at 22, which is so stupid because I have my whole life laid in front of me and yet I- I always thought I’d have my life figured out. I’d know what I want to do and where I’m going. I’d have my forever relationship and my forever group of friends. But I’m getting rejected from grad schools left and right, I’ve got no solid group of friends. I hang out with my pseudo-brother’s friends most of the time and work a job my Daddy got for me. I live at home, for Christ’s sake. And it’s not that I don’t enjoy being with you because I l-” You pause, cutting yourself off, almost reeling at the fact that you'd almost let the words slip out. 

You loved Jake Seresin but you were uncertain he loved you in return. 

“I do like being with you. But all my friends from school, they’re engaged or married and have solid careers or amazing grad school offers and best friends they have game nights with and weekly drinks and I don’t know, they fucking meal prep together. And it’s added on to the fact that I’m like sort of friends with Reuben now, who I always thought was so cool in high school. You know, he had that life. He went to the football games and had dates to dances and surfed and had friends to hang out with. Still does. And I’m realizing I’m sort of starting to grieve a life I didn’t have in high school. You know, a life I could’ve had if my life had been just a bit more stable. My Dad had his cancer treatments and my parents were locked into this nasty court battle over child support. Not even over me but how much money I was worth. Maverick was never around, Bradley too, and I’m just-” You squeeze your eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath. “I’m upset because I could’ve had that life in high school if I wasn’t busy taking care of myself and making sure I stayed alive. If I wasn’t busy trying to make it into college because I knew it was the only way I’d make something of myself, the only way I’d be worth something in my parent’s eyes.”

You sit up, the tears slipping down your face. “I feel like a failure. And even more than I feel like a failure, I’m angry at losing out on all I could’ve had but didn't get because of my parents.” Your voice is raw and wet as Jake sits up too, pulling you close to his chest. “My whole identity for so long has been about my academic success and now that the academics don’t want me, I have no idea who the fuck I am.” 

“I’m so proud of you.” He whispers into your hairline, pressing a soft kiss there. 

You hiccup. “How? I’m a mess.” 

He chuckles, pulling back slightly. “I’m proud of you because you did survive. I agree, it’s not fair to you that you had to raise yourself. I’m proud of you though because you got through all that and now you get this amazing opportunity to learn who you really are without all the books and smarts.” 

You shrug, glancing away from him. 

He sighs, cupping your chin. “Sweetheart, just because the academic success goes away doesn’t take away from how wonderfully brilliant you are. You are so intelligent, and I, for one, am so excited to see who you become in this next stage of your life. I think I’ve already gotten glimpses of her and I-” He swallows, pushing some of your hair away from your face. “I love her so fucking much.” 

Your breath catches in your throat as you look back to him. 

“I love you sweetheart.” He licks his lips nervously, eyes darting around your face as if trying to gauge your reaction. “I know this is probably bad timing but- but it sounds like you needed to hear it. And I know I don’t fix it or make it go away, but- I’m here.” A new wave of tears hits you and Jake pulls you back to his chest. “I know I’m not high school or prom or Stanford, but I-” 

“Jake, shut up.” You say, wiping at your eyes as you try to push the tears back. He snaps his mouth shut, falling silent, even as he hand falls to your waist to rub circles into your side. “I love you. So much, you have no idea.” 

He smiles. “Good to know.” 

You groan, wiping at your eyes again. “God, I ruined our date. I’m sorry.” 

“Sweetheart, no.” He says firmly, scooting back. “I’m glad you felt like you could talk to me about this. I get that it’s probably hard to voice and I’m happy to know you’re comfortable talking about these things with me.” 

You sniff, giving him a half-shrug. “Still-”

“No. None of that. C’mere.” He says, pulling you to his chest and then laying down on the blankets. “I love you, darling.” 

“I love you too.” You whisper back, nuzzling closer into him as he runs his fingers through your hair. You sit there for a while, the sun going from red hues to a dusky purple. 

“I have a question.” He asks.

“Go for it.” 

“Why did Reuben make that comment about not wanting to know my dick size?” 

You groan. 

#jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin fic #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fic #top gun: maverick #top gun: maverick fic #maroon

[a-d-nox]

pac/pap: message from your past lover/crush

take what resonates leave what doesn't - nothing is 100% for you because these aren't personalized so please no angry comments or dms about what i am saying not being a good fit for you or that you "don't claim" just keep scrolling if that is the case. be kind, self reflect, and have fun.

last pac/pap: message from your future spouse/partner

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pile 1

you two couldn't be together because the universe was testing you both as to whether or not you were ready for a new level of relationship. the universe wanted to see if you could break old patterns - i sense that you both accomplished this test. now it is up to you both to make peace with your past relationships, so you can continue to welcome new energy into your romantic lives. if you are wondering why this person couldn't be here, it was because you both had different visions for the future. their's wasn't a shared common plan or even a solid foundation to keep you together through this part of life.

what they want to let you know is that they were too worried about status and reaching milestones (in life and romantically) to even try and slow down to enjoy a connection with you. they couldn't be in the moment and simply enjoy life - they were too in their head and they are sorry about it. they hope that you find the right relationship at the right time - just be patient and continue to take care of yourself.

staying together or trying to be together would have lead to delusions. things would not have been as they appeared. at first, things would have been too good to be true and quickly you would have learned why. rapid movement often leads to the fizzling out of emotions... too much good leads to a boring connection for a majority of people - you need some conflict to keep the connection interesting and evolving.

i feel like your unrealistic expectation for them was that they were ready to settle down and establish themselves. they weren't. you wanted them to be ready, and you were determined to believe that they were when they weren't. they weren't ready to be with you, you just wanted them to be ready.

its good you aren't together because someone exciting is going to be entering your life, perhaps via a friend. put yourself out there - participate in activities. you might meet them on a vacation, if that is coming up for you. be open to people who you wouldn't typically think of because you assume they will be temporary or that you would assume it would only amount to a fling with them.

what you learned from them was how to take a leap of faith and trust that the universe won't steer you wrong long term. you know now that you can't fear the unknown - everything is just lessons that are meant to expand your consciousness and present you with opportunities. everything that happens to you in the romantic sense is just a part of your personal and spiritual evolution.

the deck says that in 8 weeks or the fall is when you will be ready for the next chapter.

pile 2

you can't be together and you know exactly why. you are confident in yourself and you know your worth. you are worth much more than you were receiving. so it is time that you put yourself out there to meet new people - don't be afraid to show your vulnerability with new people. you need to be open about what you perviously experienced so that you can avoid repeated lessons and reasons for breakups. you latest crush/relationship was tore about you because they were intimidated by your intelligence and your effectiveness in communication was too much for them. they weren't mature enough to match your energy, so they likely ghosted you.

something they never got to say to you was that you shouldn't be as sure as you are. a person is never done learning. you might have came across as cocky and unwilling to understand their perception. there is something to learn in every situation and from every perspective - you just need to be open to do so.

if you tried to make the connection work, you would have lost your spunk. eventually, you would have found yourself incapable of being able to fully express yourself. you would have been incapable of finding joy, playing around, and even be present - you would have become too stoic and wrapped up in your unhappiness and incapable of having fun and laughing.

your unrealistic expectation was that you would never argue or have conflict with them - all relationships have conflict where both sides are heard. it is more about how you manage yourself than it is the fight itself. it helps you to evolve and learn each others triggers - to not fight is to remain ignorant of each other issues, triggers, etc. you want to have a relationship that grows and blossoms, then be open to arguments.

it's for the best that you aren't together because the connection moved too quickly. you both let your excitement of what could happen cloud the reality of the situation. i also sense that they were not just being pursued by you - they had several people's interest.

what you can learn from this experience is that a situation can change at any moment in time, so enjoy it while it lasts. let go of what out stays its welcome - whether it is behavior that is not right or dating patterns. you need to make space for new possibilities when your situation is starting to feel stale.

the deck says that in 5 days (or rather you should have been ready 5 days ago during the aquarius new moon when i was writing/editing this) or spring is when you will be ready for the next chapter.

pile 3

you couldn't be together because there was an imbalance in the connection. I sense that someone was a bit too codependent in this connection. they relied too heavily on their partner to fulfill their needs and had unrealistic expectation for the relationship. in order for any connection to world you have to be able to find your own happiness without depending on another person to provide you with this happiness you seek. someone was too greedy in this connection and someone was too hard on themselves because they tried to make the connection work for a very long time and it just wasn't working. someone cared about how they appeared together more than the other person did - perhaps they were a bit too self-centered. someone still needs to work on their generosity.

something they never got to say to you was that they love you. they truly loved you - they weren't ready to say it at the time but it is true. they really do wish you well. they hope you are happier now than you were with them. they hope you are out somewhere having fun and doing what you have always dreamed to. they also kind of hope that maybe someday you will reconnect with them and if it can't be romantic than at least you can be friends with one another.

this is a connection that had it coming; it just had to end. you both were not ready. you were in two very different places in life and two very different states of mind. you weren't ready for the connection to be what it was. you were both clinging to each other for a very different reason thus it had to end. it is okay they you don't reach out to them. hell it is okay, if you don't reach out to them for a long long time. they love you. they just know that you both need to start fresh and see what else is out there.

your unrealistic expectation of them was that your disputes/disagreements would move to some sort of resolution. you are both very different people and very different people have very different manners of dealing with things. you wanted to move forward and they didn't want to. you might have been an agree to disagree person, while they wanted you to see things from their point of view. one side was always unheard in the connection and it just strained the connection. there was no moving on - to expect that you could was silly in their eyes. perhaps one of your arguments crossed a line you weren't fully aware existed.

it's for the best that you aren't together because someone felt hesitant about taking action and moving forward with the relationship. you should never have to think about whether or not you want to be with someone - the second you have to wait for a moment and think means that you should be on your own to contemplate romantic partnership in general. there was a fear about timing and being out of the comfort zone that each of you knew romantically. passion alone is often not enough when it comes to a partnership.

what you can learn from this experience is that there is a disconnection between you and the other person in most of your relationships. it is okay to admit that too. perhaps you are someone who has a lot of faith that things will just work or one day they will be ready or one day they will commit. it is okay to have faith, but again, if you aren't connecting and hearing what the person is saying (for example, maybe they did tell you they weren't interested in committing to a relationship) then perhaps that is something to reflect on. don't give up - your partner is out there. in the meantime, listen to what others are saying and trust that they mean what they say. it is okay if the truth hurts - you have the power to heal.

the deck says that in 4 months or summer is when you will be ready for the next chapter or to reconnection with this person like I said earlier.

#astrology #astro community #astro placements #astro chart #astrology tumblr #astrology readings #astrology chart #astro notes #astro observations #astroblr #tarotdaily #tarot witch #tarot art #daily tarot #rider waite tarot #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarot #tarotblr #pick a pile #pick a picture #pick a card #pick a photo #pick one

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

if I can never give you peace — nine || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader // Word count (chapter): 9.1k // Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers

↳ It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy,  who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then  it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father  decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fights and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Warnings and tags (chapter): angst, guns, threats, generally dark, violence, car crash.

First · Previous · Next

Hours easily blend together when they’re left to stretch ad infinitum. That was a lesson that you had learned on the very first hectic night you had lived through under Mr. X. Back then, it had been a mere attempt at secession — one of the powerful groups of the Organization had thought they might be able to stand up on their own, without the Family’s support. They had wiped out all the people Mr. X had placed in one day, swift and efficient, and had announced their intentions mere hours after that. You remember that they had been delivered by a man bruised and bloody who could only slur his words, and you remember the thoughtful way in which Mr. X had tapped his fingers on his cane.

You didn’t think anyone in the Organization had gotten so much as a wink of sleep that night.

You had known from the second you had gotten the text that tonight would be no different. As a result, scrambled on the white board inside the conference room that you had not yet gotten the chance to inaugurate, were all the important events of the night.

6.00 pm: bomb goes off in front of HQ

6.34 pm: attack on a drug carrier exiting the harbor. cargo stolen.

6.48 pm: casino The Imperial announces its separation from the Organization. Followed by most similar establishments.

6.55 pm: raid

7.05 pm: departure from HQ

9.23 pm: attacks on two of Lucas’s clubs

10.58 pm: attacks on establishments under protection; two thwarted

2.41 am: storage warehouse burned down

5.10 am: altercation near the Circle. 8 dead, ? wounded. police intervention.

It had now been two hours since you had last received information you had deemed important enough to write it on the board, but your fingers still twitched in anticipation. People and informations had come and gone the entire time, and even now, your phone was still buzzing every few seconds, your eyes scanning the messages quickly as they appeared. Numbers, locations, defections, all things you would have to file after getting some sleep.

None of them had quite managed to shake you out of the numbness you had been feeling since the raid of 6.55 pm.

You had been the first one to get the texts, but Jungkook and Suga had not been far behind.

‘Descent on hybrid district,’ the text had read. ‘Scorched earth’.

Jungkook’s face had darkened, murderous rage filling his eyes. You hadn’t tried to hold him back after that, even the fear you felt for him not quite managing to seep through the horror you had felt at that statement.

This was a targeted attack. There were numerous innocent families, children, people who were just living their lives in the hybrid district. This was intended purely to hit where it would hurt Jungkook the most.

It had worked as intended.

You had attempted to send Hector home at eleven, since there were still men left in the building, but he had simply shaken his head. He was now sitting on a chair, by the door, in a drowse. He did not even stir when you made a phone call, but you had noticed his eyes lifting whenever there was a noise outside. You supposed you would feel guilty about it if there had been any room left for guilt within you in the last twelve hours.

The flow of information had been non-stop, and what you were putting out was almost as consequent. After that first night, Mr. X had compared you to a computer, able to treat the data in seconds and to figure out the best course of action from there. You had been the one who had been responsible for the plan that had effectively choked the opposing group to death. All exit routes methodically cut, all options taken into account.

None of them had made it out alive.

Tonight, you had done everything in your power to ensure that your side would not be put in the same situation.

“You might wanna head home, ma’am,” Hector suggests from his seat, and you look up at him. Your eyes have been open so long they burn.

“I probably won't be long,” you reply, and even you don't manage to keep the exhaustion out of your voice. “Just a few minutes more.”

You see, in the way that his eyebrows rise, that he does not find your decision to be judicious, but he doesn't say anything and you're thankful for that. If he did, you might have to confront the real reason you’re insisting on staying here, awake, and that is because you're desperate to hear from either Jungkook or Suga. Though you have gotten messages from people surrounding them — few and far between, as you don’t have that many informants around there — and they seemed to still be alive a few hours ago, it’s been a long time and you just—

God. You just want to know that Jungkook’s okay. You just want to know that he’s found somewhere safe and that he’s managed to minimize the damage. You know, realistically, that you would have heard far more about it if that wasn’t the case, and yet there’s this deep, dull throbbing in your chest that has not gone away once since Jungkook walked out the door, prepared for a fight to the death — though you doubted he had feared it would be his death.

And so, even though you should, you cannot find it in yourself to abandon your seat, to allow your eyes leave your phone for even a second.

The call comes long after you’ve stopped expecting it, and you pick up in an instant, index finger sliding on the screen.

“Hello?”

“They’re gone,” Suga’s voice comes through the phone, thick and tired. “We’ve run them out of the district. Gonna stay a bit to ensure no one comes back but—” There are some intelligible words coming from behind him. “By the time we arrived, they had barricaded themselves in a bar,” he sighs after barking an order you don't catch. “It took a while.”

“I see,” you say. “Are there many losses on either side?”

“Lots of wounded on ours, a few dead.” And then, with cold, furious satisfaction: “On their side, everyone.”

“Good,” you reply, and you surprise yourself with how sincerely you mean it. “I will call for an emergency meeting tomorrow. Will you and Mr Jeon be able to attend it, or have you been injured severely? Do you need me to call one of our doctors?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other side of the line.

“We’ll make it,” he finally answers. “But yeah, send someone to Jungkook’s place.”

Your heart jumps painfully in your chest, and you have to steel yourself to stop your voice from wavering.

“Is he alright?”

“He'll be fine,” Suga just says, and though it does nothing to calm your worry, you drop the subject. It should be enough to you, knowing that he’s alive and mostly okay.

It isn’t.

“Good. In that case, I will see you both tomorrow.”

The second the call ends, you’re getting up from your chair, Hector already on his feet.

“There’s a car waiting for you, and I’ve had men check out your apartment, ma’am.”

You nod at him thankfully. For a second, at the door, you think you’re going to falter, that your legs won’t be able to carry you any further. But they do, they always do, taking you one step further even when you feel you cannot, simply because you have to.

And they will carry you tomorrow as well, and the day after that, and the day after that. Never once allowing you to collapse.

The atmosphere is crackling with tension when you walk back into that very same room the next day. In a glance, you verify that every person who you had thought would answer the call yesterday, based on the new developments, is here. A sigh of relief bubbles in your throat, but you keep it contained as you make your way through the room, setting your computer down next to the place where Jungkook would soon be sitting.

The faces around the table are all more or less familiar, but their dark expressions are not. Fred Lucas’s signature smile has been wiped from his face, the corner of his lips pointing downwards. His usually impeccable suit is crinkled, and dark circles seem to have been dug under his eyes. He looks like he’s taken on ten years in the last night. He doesn't even bother nodding at you.

Most of the other humans here are more or less in the same state, but some of the hybrids look significantly worse for wear. They have to be the ones that joined Suga and Jungkook the night before, several of them sporting significant injuries. Your eyes land on Junho, and you instinctively dig your nails into your palm to stop yourself from flinching. You can see a compress on his neck, coming out from underneath a black shirt, but he doesn’t seem to be doing too badly.

You find some comfort in it — not because of him, but because in that sight, you find some hope that Jungkook won’t be doing too bad either.

“You got a problem?” he snarls, baring his teeth at you and you realize in horror that you’ve been staring.

This doesn’t happen to you. This never happens to you and, fuck, this is why you can’t ever let your guard down. Fear sets your veins on fire, and though your mouth opens, you have no idea what to reply.

Shit. Shit.

“I’m sorry you got injured,” your tongue miraculously answers even as your brain remains frozen, and you’re thankful for the years of training you have in this. He growls, pushing himself up on the chair. The movement seems fluid and easy, confirming your impression that he isn’t too severely injured, but this time you don’t let yourself get caught in that thought. Instead you brace for impact, straightening your back. You know that it’s your voice that set him off, that it was too flat and even, that it didn’t carry any concern. You also know that Hector is staring at you, just waiting for a nod from you to intervene, and that Fred Lucas’s hand has come to rest lightly on his belt, near the gun you’ve been informed he’s carrying by security.

The fear doesn’t quite leave you, but you’re not afraid of him anymore.

“Listen to me you—”

“Fucking drop it, Junho,” Jungkook’s tired voice orders as he walks in through the door.

“She just—”

“Welcome back, Mr. Jeon,” you interrupt him, bowing your head in his direction politely.

Your eyes meet his when you look up. Your gazes lock for a second, and your legs almost go weak from the overwhelming relief that washes over you. You only allow yourself a second to take him in fully, to see for yourself that, though he walks with a small limp, one hand over his abdomen, he’s alive, he’s alive, he’s alive.

He’s still staring at you with an undecipherable expression once you’re done with your brief check.

“If you would please take a seat,” you say, and you don't know if your ears are deceiving you or if your voice is indeed softer in that moment, “there is a lot we have to cover today. The sooner we can start, the better.”

“Sure,” he says and, despite his obvious injuries, he makes his way through the room with wide strides, letting himself fall on the chair next to you with a groan. Suga leans against the door, golden eyes watching over everything. He gives you a nod so small you think you might have imagined it. You certainly cannot think of anything you would have done to earn it, but you suppose events like what happened last night would have that kind of effect.

You press a key on your computer, and a slide appears behind you.

“For an overview of what happened last night—”

“What I’m saying is that you don't win a fucking war with fucking Powerpoints—”

“If you had two working fucking braincells, you’d see that we need to know the situation we’re in before we decide on—”

“None of you now what it’s like to actually fight your own fucking—”

“You’ve been in this position for two goddamn—”

You’re not sure why Jungkook is letting the argument unfold, insults shouted from across the room as no one listens to the answer nor seems particularly interested in reaching a productive decision. Mr. X would not have let that slide, you know that, but you also realize that no one would have dared raise their voice in his presence. Mere suggestions were uttered begrudgingly, as even some of the most powerful people in the Organization cowered in front of him. His word was law, and he didn’t hesitate to use that to pit people against each other.

You wonder for a second if that is what Jungkook is doing too, letting the tension build, dividing to conquer, but it doesn't seem to be the case. He doesn’t look amused by the situation, dark eyes attentive to everything going on in the room — for once, certainly more focused than you are. Slumped in his chair, probably to protect his injured side, you notice his fingers tapping on the table at a fast rhythm.

“Will you be taking on more security?” you ask quietly, knowing that it likely won’t be picked up on by the hybrids in the room, considering the degree of agitation.

He throws you a surprised glance, eyebrows scrunching either in confusion or from being torn away from the spectacle, you can’t tell.

“Why would I do that?”

“There will likely be more attempts against your life from now on,” you reply. “Having a couple of guards should deter some and ensure that you remain safe.”

“I can do that myself,” he says, though not quite with anger. “If anyone should take on more security, it’s you.”

You think of the gun that’s in your purse at this very moment, that you checked before leaving your apartment was filled with ammunitions, even though you’ve not once emptied it, and then you glance at Hector, who is surveilling the situation, arms folded over his large torso. You don't think anyone could keep you safer than he can, but that’s not what you tell Jungkook.

“That might be a good idea indeed,” you nod. “I will look into it as soon as we’ll have decided on a course of action here. I can also look for some men for you in the process.”

His frown deepens, a flash of anger in his eyes, and he opens his mouth, obviously ready for a sharp retort, before closing it again to study you. Under the attention, you feel your face growing warm. You have no idea what he’s looking for, but you’re all too aware of the way his eyes search yours, roaming over your expression like there is some sign in there that he cannot find. Finally, he leans back in his seat with an annoyed sigh and closes his eyes.

“You need to stop interfering in my business. I’ll have Yoongi around, and that’ll be more than enough.”

You bite the inside of your cheek. You should drop it.

“Would you consider having at least one additional man until your injuries heal?”

If it were up to you, he wouldn't leave the building without a full escort, but you’re— you’re trying, dammit.

“It’ll be fine in a couple of days, the knife didn’t go that d—”

“The knife?”

His eyes snap open at your tone, and you're not quick enough to school your features back to normal. He catches something on your face this time, though you’re not sure what — could be shock, could be fear, could be sadness or anything else — but again, there’s that spark of satisfaction in his eyes, and you feel yourself retreating immediately.

“Suga didn’t inform me of that,” you say, voice as emotionless as ever. “I suppose it’s—”

“Just— get me the dude. Or dudes. I don't care. I’ll get rid of them when I’m healed.”

It’s your turn to try to find something in his expression and to fail. You just can't seem to understand what he's doing these days, but you bite back the question you desperately want to ask. This is a positive in your book, and it’s probably better not to ask.

“I… will,” you finally say with a slow nod, unsure of what just happened there and unable to make sense of it. His eyes don’t leave yours, but his expression falters.

“Do you—”

“Listen to me you son of a bitch, you don’t get to—”

You both snap back to the room, in which two men have almost come to blows. One of them holds the other by the collar, while that one is reaching for something in his pocket that has to be either a knife or a gun. Just as you open your mouth, Suga appears between the two and they suddenly let go of each other without him having to say a word. He looks small, both in frame and in height, between the two, but you remember the day he took out some of Mr. X’s best men too well to underestimate him based on that.

“Alright,” Jungkook says, “what’ve you got, Yoongi?”

“No one’s expecting us to counter-attack this quickly, so I say we go for it,” Suga shrugs, and some in the room holler in approval while others grimace and shake their heads. “But we should only go against one district for now. After last night, it’d be suicide to do anything else. We have the city pretty well mapped out, so I say we try to eat at them slowly for the time being, then see what happens.”

Jungkook nods, then glances at you.

“What about you?”

One blink, and the surprise you feel at the question is gone.

“The casinos will be under heavy surveillance,” you say, “so they should be avoided for now. Based on the intel we got, it seems last night’s attack came from some of the Families that are mostly involved in the protection business, so it would make sense to go after them first. Some inner reorganization will also need to be done to ensure drugs are still being passed smoothly and ideally to block the supply for the other side. I can start looking into that.”

“Alright. Junho?”

The shark hybrid starts to answer, followed, one by one, by all the people present in the room. You scribble some notes down, watch Jungkook shoot down some ideas, tell people who to work with, and you certainly notice the glances exchanged by the people who, like you, were used to working with Mr. X. Though some seem skeptical, none appear to view it as a sign of weakness, which is a good sign.

The meeting is starting to fizzle out — roles have been attributed for the most part, only a few details remain to be explained — when a security guard walks in.

Immediately, a room full of some of the most dangerous people in the city, if not the country, spin around to glare at him, and he takes a cautious step back.

“Um, ma’am,” he says, looking somewhat relieved once he’s found you, “I have someone downstairs who says they have business with a Mr. Jeon?”

Jungkook sits up straight, and you hold back a curse. You’ll need to tell them to give the information to you in private next time.

“And who’s that person?”

“A lady called… Anna Xanders?”

Great. Great.

As Anna makes her way towards the conference room, the only people left inside waiting are yourself, Suga and Jungkook. You wish he hadn’t allowed her in the building, but you hadn’t made that opinion known, all too aware of the fact that it wouldn’t be well received. He was the one who had asked the two of you to stay, though, and that meant that you had to fight every fiber of your body to stop yourself from fidgeting. Above all, there was the creeping fear that he’d go back to the Circle after meeting with her, when he was in no state to do so.

Suga looked unbothered, but then again, so did you. Jungkook, on the other hand, seemed perfectly relaxed, and you supposed that had to be somewhat close to what he was really feeling.

“You shouldn’t be seeing her,” Suga says flatly. “Unless you want me to kill her.”

If that was the case, she should be taken to a remote location first. You didn't want that happening in the building. It would be a pain to get cleaned up.

“I’m not killing her,” Jungkook replies, rolling his eyes. “Just want to know what she has to say.”

You suppose in any normal situation, that would be good news, but in this case God do you wish he wanted to kill her.

Through the opaque glass, you make out her silhouette, leaving you a few seconds more to prepare yourself. One deep breath, one more attempt at getting rid of the surprisingly strong emotions swirling in your stomach, and then she opens the door.

She’s wearing all black, save for a long, elegant white scarf. She’s still carrying that look of hurt dignity, head held high, blonde hair falling down on her shoulders and behind her back. It must be so easy to fall for it, hook line and sinker, you think. Maybe if you made yourself look hurt, you would benefit from people’s sympathy as well.

Or maybe you would be dead.

“Jungkook,” she says, and then she releases a shaky little breath that makes her look weak under the strength she’s trying to present, and you refrain from rolling your eyes.

She is just as in control of herself as you are.

“Anna,” he replies, and you’re relieved that he at least doesn’t look impressed nor moved by the spectacle. He just looks somewhat— bored. “What do you want?”

There’s a look of hurt on her face at his direct approach, but she conceals it quickly.

“I— I heard about what happened last night,” she says softly. “I just wanted to check on you. I know— I know you haven’t replied to me and you probably don’t want to see me, but I— I just needed to know you were alright.”

You clench your teeth, unusual rage constricting your chest. Surely he’ll know that she didn’t once check on him when he was at the Circle, surely he’ll see through—

“Replied to you?” he asks, rising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I’ve been trying to get in touch with you, haven’t you…?”

You certainly don’t miss the tiniest spark of satisfaction in her eyes, even if she glances down to the floor to hide it. Jungkook glances in your direction with a frown.

“Anything suspect must have been thrown away,” you reply with a shrug. Not a truth, but not a lie either.

“Surely flowers aren’t suspect,” Anna says, and though her voice remains soft, you know that she’s annoyed, probably less because of your interference than because it means you have power over her. You’ve always been beneath her, at her beck and call. Now, she is the one who’s nothing.

“They’re an inconvenience to hybrids if they smell too strongly,” you say.

“But the engraved knife wasn’t,” Anna adds, sounding just a little too triumphant, and you annoyingly miss a beat to answer her, unsure what she’s talking about. A knife…?

“Oh, yeah, we assumed it was probably a threat,” Yoongi drawls from the other side of the table. “Figured there was no reason to bother the boss with it.”

Anna’s quick to mask her defeat, letting a small, soft ‘Oh’, while Jungkook rolls his eyes once more — but you’d swear you saw a grin on his lips.

“Next time, just transfer it,” he says. “I can deal with that shit. What d’you want?”

“Right, sorry, I— I just wish you and I could talk. There’s— so much I never got the chance to tell you, and I— I think I could help you with some of the issues you’ve been having. Many people are quite loyal to me, because of my father, you know. I’m sure I could have some sway over them and ensure that you and— and everyone remains safe. If that’s something you’d like, of course.”

Of course, your first thought is that this offer should be rejected. Anna should not be trusted, not in any scenario. The second one is more… puzzled. You know for a fact that she wasn’t very involved in the Organization, even if she very much enjoyed the money and status her father’s identity offered her. Could she have been approached by people? Was she trying to test the waters, to see who the highest bidder would be?

There was not much loyalty towards Mr. X, just fear — in most circles. Those who were loyal, you should be able to look into fairly easily. Maybe that was something you should get on, when you’d get a second.

“Yeah, that may be a good thing,” Jungkook says, and you jolt back to the present scene just in time to avoid throwing him a horrified look. Instead, you slowly tilt your head in his direction. Nothing. He’s not smiling, doesn’t look particularly annoyed either.

“There are other ways to gain loyalty,” Suga comments, and you know Jungkook also hears the dangerous, warning edge in his voice. Clearly, he wants this as little as you do.

“And we'll look into them as well,” Jungkook says, tone final. “What do you say? Do you want to schedule a meeting?”

A lovely blush colors Anna's cheeks, and she coyly pushes a lock of hair behind her ear.

You could rip her face off.

“How about having dinner together?”

Again, no emotions from Jungkook.

“That works too.” He glances at you. “Think you can find a time?”

“You’re going to be quite busy from now on,” you say, mostly stalling to swallow down anger, worry, and other things you don’t want to dwell on. “But I suppose I could arrange for you to have some time free next week.”

“Oh,” Anna says, softly, “this might be urgent, don’t you think you—”

“Next week it is then,” Jungkook interrupts her, giving a nod of approval in your direction. “We’ll handle the details.” Then he lifts his chin to point at the door. “You know the way.”

She presses her lips in disappointment, but that fades in favor of the victory she’s just gained — and which she knows she’s just gained over two of Jungkook’s closest advisors. Suga is obviously seething, and she knows you well enough to be able to tell. You can only watch as she exits the room.

She’s good enough of an actress not to smile until she’s out of sight.

“You two don’t get to decide that shit for me,” Jungkook’s voice resonates in the silence that follows. You expected anger, but there’s none there.

“We wouldn’t have to if you made good fucking decisions,” Suga hisses. “What the fuck are you doing? We’re not taking her in. She’d have sold her own fucking father to make it that day.”

“I know.”

“Then what—”

“My problem. Not yours.”

There’s a growl, and then Suga’s storming out, leaving you alone with Jungkook. Not a situation you want to be in right now, so you bow politely in his direction.

“If you'll excuse me, Mr. Jeon, I—”

“Why’d you hide the roses from me?”

He’s just asking, you see it in his eyes. The lie, or the half-truth, that you didn’t want him to ally himself with her, comes to you easily, fully formed. But it’s not what ends up making it past your lips.

“Last time you heard from her, you had to be picked up from a bar, where you got into a fight with a customer after hours upon hours of fighting at the Circle. I don’t believe that she is... good for you, Mr. Jeon.”

There’s more, too, but that will have to do for the moment. Even now, your entire body is screaming at you that you shouldn't have revealed that much about yourself, and there’s nothing you can do to calm your thundering heart.

Jungkook stares at you, then speaks slowly, like he’s choosing his words carefully.

“I won’t do it this time.”

“Certainly,” you nod, “I’m sorry I—”

“No, I— I won’t do it this time. Seriously.”

You don't know what to say to that. You haven’t got a clue. What you do know is that Jungkook is looking straight into your eyes, your heart is pounding in your chest, and you’re sure that you're letting things show on your face that shouldn’t be here.

So you don't say anything — don't trust your voice, really, not when the rest of your body is failing you treacherously —, nod.

And then you flee.

If you could avoid it, you don't think you would leave the office at all in the days that follow. You have considered transforming one of the offices into a small bedroom anyway, it’s always good to ensure there is place for people to rest — or to discreetly operate on someone who cannot go to a hospital because the wounds would raise too many questions — and in the current circumstances, anytime someone highly ranked in the Organization takes a step outside, they are putting their lives in danger.

Of course, everyone else is aware of that, and none of them would limit themselves in such a fashion, but the difference is that you hear about everything. Every attack is brought back to you, whether it is threats hurled at someone from across the road, a stabbing in an alleyway, or a car chase on the freeway. If someone switches allegiance, you’re the one who writes it down and updates the relevant people. If there’s a shootout, if a car burns down, if a gun goes missing—

You. It all comes back to you.

You suppose it makes sense, then, that you are the one who wants to take the most precaution to protect your life, though you know others are doing it as well. Fred, you’ve heard, doesn’t stray outside of the area he has full control over. You’ve also been told that even Junho has barely been seen outside of the hybrid district, not even showing up to the Circle. They could afford that, but you still had to leave your apartment every morning to take your car — was anywhere more dangerous than these metal boxes these days — and get to work.

Yet you kept doing it.

It wasn’t that you thought they couldn't get to you, you were nowhere near that naive. You had reinforced your security, were always followed by a second car, and you had men keep an eye on your apartment day and night, but even then you knew issues could arise. Corruption, carefully planned attacks, or even sheer bad luck, everything was possible and there was no way of accounting for it all. It had worked out for you so far, which you took as a sign that you were doing your job well, but it could all change at the drop of a hat.

It wasn’t some stupid, self-sacrificial decision either. You supposed some people in this new version of the Organization might see it that way, those who were loyal to Jungkook to the death. Thinking that there was something ‘noble’ about putting their lives on the line. The idea could almost rip a laugh out of you. There was nothing noble about your job, no matter who you were working for. You were receiving word of enough stabbings, arsons and grand larceny coming from your side not to have any illusions on the topic.

You were also fully aware of how important your role was in the Organization at the moment. You had tried to make yourself indispensable earlier, and now you were, without most of your previous efforts having played much of a role in that. It seemed that you shone through specifically in times of crisis. If something happened to you right now, you would not be replaced easily. And yet, every morning and every evening, you still stepped out of the towering glass building that was the current headquarters, and went back to your apartment.

Because, once more, it all came down to the image you were giving.

If the number three of the Organization didn’t dare to walk outside, if she didn't trust her own men to protect her, if she didn't believe that she was powerful enough to protect at least herself, then what was the rest of them to do? Lie down and await death?

You had even hesitated before taking on additional protection, only allowing yourself to do so because you thought that Jungkook’s presence and his very visible confidence in the people that surrounded him could counteract the fear that that decision would display coming from you.

‘Thought’. Ha.

The right word would be ‘felt’, but you didn’t make decisions based on feelings. You never did.

You weren’t going to start now, were you?

If you felt uneasy going to and then coming back from work, that was nothing compared to way your agitation spiked when you travelled through town with Jungkook. The two of you being together like that, that made you the easiest, most interesting preys, like pheasants’ release on the opening day of the hunting season.

You could explain the decision by pointing to the image it gave once again, but you weren’t sure if that wasn’t crossing the line between confidence and simple stupidity. Maybe you should have fought Jungkook harder on it, but the truth was you had barely brought it up. Because if you were in the car with him, even if that put the both of you at risk, it at least meant that you didn’t have to spend your days in fear of the phone call that would tell you he’d died.

What was wrong with you these days, you couldn’t have explained.

At least, as he’d told you, he had mostly healed from his injuries in less than a week, which allowed him to sit comfortably across from you, back straight, legs spread, as he looked out at the city with the eyes of a man who knew he owned most of it. His long ears were, as always, skillfully hidden underneath a discreet, black hairband. It made you wonder how much of his behavior was a façade. He was, clearly, at least as aware of the importance of the image he gave as you were.

You weren’t faring quite as well as him, though. You knew that, despite your best efforts and your years of work, there was tension vibrating through you that you couldn’t quite hide. It was in the slightly too quick cadence of your voice, in your movements that were just a touch too jerky, in the glances you were constantly throwing around the car — rear-view mirror first, then windshield, then left and right windows.

There had been two attempts against the two of you since the war had begun. Both had been easily thwarted, and none of them involved firearms, but you knew it was a question of when, not if.

“Hey,” Jungkook calls, and you're thankful that you at least don’t jump at that, but you’re still too quick at looking in his direction.

Dammit. You need to get your rhythm under control.

“Yes, Mr. Jeon?”

He rolls his eyes, you think at the name you use rather than at you. You don't know what he wants you to do with that. He’s the one that asked you to call him that.

“I know you don’t do chill, but seriously, you’re going to explode if you keep it up.”

“There’s a war going on, Mr Jeon.” You think you manage not to sound reproachful. You wouldn’t want him to be in the same state you are. You just can’t help yourself.

“I’m aware,” he replies and, where an explosion would have occurred just a couple of months ago, there’s only a frown on his face. “This still isn't helping.”

Before you realize what you’re doing, you’re allowing yourself a deep breath. When you do, when you brain starts screaming at you, asking you what the fuck is going on, you’ve already done it, and all you can do to try and save face is stop yourself from freezing like a deer in headlights.

Jungkook is just looking at you. You see something twitch in his jaw, his fists clenching, and then he’s the one who looks away, tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek.

“You might be right,” you say, dropping the usual ‘Mr. Jeon’ but unable to bring yourself to call him Jungkook, “but this has kept me alive so far. I— have no reason to believe that anything else would do the same.”

He closes his eyes shut for a second, then he looks back at you. His elbow is resting on the window, thumb hovering a few millimeters from his lips. He looks at you — really looks at you, takes you all in — and you feel a now familiar burn spreading over your body. You have no idea if he can tell.

Right now, you're not even quite sure whether you want him to or not.

He opens his mouth.

And that is you catch movement from the corner of your eye, and before you can turn your head, shock explodes through the car and then it's spent spinning.

Your hand shoots for the handle and you hold on to it desperately, eyes tightly shut, pulled back against the seat with bruising force by your seatbelt. You hear the window exploding, feel the tiny cuts the shards of glass leave on your skin, hear Jungkook curse, the smell of burning tires reaches your nose, your stomach lurches in your chest, and then it stops, but there is no time for the ringing silence to settle. By the time you manage to open your eyes, heart pounding so loud you think it might escape from your rib cage, there’s shouting outside, and then Jungkook’s pulling your head down as shots start to ring.

“Fuck,” he hisses through his teeth, hand still in your hair, as his body forms a shield between you and the direction the shots are coming from — you think, you’re too disoriented to tell at the moment, but he seems not to hesitate. What does hit you in that moment, when you inhale, trying to bring air into your frozen lungs, is the earthy smell coming from him, touches of pine, probably from his soap, and something musky that is definitely him.

If you could slap yourself for losing the precious second that thought takes to formulate, you would, but at least the rush of something that this proximity sends through your body easily blends with everything else happening at the moment, and Jungkook doesn't seem to notice.

“We’re followed by another car,” you manage to say, though the words stumble out of your mouth way too fast, “they should take action—”

“Yeah, but we still need to get out of here,” he growls. “We’re too good of a target. They’ll get brave and get closer any time now.”

You have to take his word for it. You’ve never been in that kind of situation before. Adrenaline is running through your veins almost painfully and you feel your fight or flight reaction kicking in — with one hundred percent of your energy going towards ‘flight’. One glance in the direction of the driver tells you that he’s slumped over the wheel, possibly unconscious, but likely dead.

You should probably feel more at that thought than annoyance at the fact that you’re going to have to replace him, but truth is if you felt sadness over every death that happened in this city, you would have crumpled a long time ago.

The loud screeching of tires on concrete outside tells you that the reinforcements have arrived.

“Alright,” Jungkook says. “That should buy us some time.”

For the first time, he looks down at you. Your heart flutters inappropriately — oh my God, just shut the fuck up — when you meet his eyes, but all it solidifies is the fact that he, unlike you, knows exactly what he's doing. In that moment, you don’t doubt for a second that, if you make it out alive, it will be thanks to him.

He kicks open the door behind him, the one facing away from all the turmoil. One of his hands holds a vice-like grip on your wrist, pulling with him in that direction. You stumble after him, your heels wholly unadapted for the situation, and crouch behind the car as he glances over it to surveil what’s happening.

The shots, briefly interrupted by the arrival of the second car, are picking up again, and with them your heart rate. You manage to take in the surroundings, but there isn’t much to be gained from it. It’s a quiet area by the river, long stretches of concrete and not a soul in sight.

You’ll have to do a better job at keeping to more populated areas.

“I think they only have one car,” Jungkook tells you, crouching back down next to you.

“So do we, for now,” you say with a frown. You have enough safety protocols in place to think that the men that are here must have called for help the second they saw something was wrong, but for now the forces are pretty much in equal number.

Which means that you’re stranded next to wrecked car, on a road on which nothing can move at the moment. The two of you might as well be sitting ducks.

Your phone buzzes and you fish it out of the purse that you have somehow kept in your clenched fist this whole time. As you open your hand, you grimace slightly at the traces your fingernails have left inside your palm. Shit. You didn’t even notice that.

Right next to your phone, you feel your gun. You've never used it in this kind of situation, and your fingers hesitate, hovering above the grip for a second before you decide against it. You'll still have it, should you need it, but it just feels so small and useless out here in the open, with shots and shouts ringing behind you, that you don’t want to give yourself some false comfort by holding on to it.

Your phone, on the other hand, is your life line in any situation, this one included, because on the screen, you see displayed four names and telephone numbers.

Someone is getting a raise this month.

Jungkook frowns, nose scrunching, when you type a reply, and even more when you press the dial button and bring the phone to your ear.

“There’s more important—”

“Who is this?” a voice groans on the other side. Even if it's hard to tell with all the noise, you think you're hearing the shots echoed through the speaker.

“Mr. Lee,” you say, “I recommend you stop shooting at us.”

There’s a silence, during which you glance at Jungkook, who now looks at least somewhat impressed.

“That’s— Wha— How d’you— How d’you know—”

As the man tries to find his words — and you don't doubt that he must be feeling sheer terror at the idea that you even know his name — you see Jungkook lifting up his head suddenly, one of his long ears, which slipped out of the bandana in the turmoil, twitching. You try to catch a glance of what’s happening, but you see nothing. He’s either smelling or hearing something you can’t, but it makes him nod decisively before leaning towards you.

“Keep him talking, and don't move from here,” he whispers in your ear, breath warm against your skin. You tell yourself that everything is just heightened in that moment, that every sensations are stronger, and that that is the only reason why your skin tingles where his hair brushes against it. Even then, you're thankful he leaves immediately after, quietly getting around the car, so he doesn't see the slow way you swallow after that, or the slow breath you let out.

It almost pained you, to have him so close to you, and even if you don't have time to think about it, even you are starting to realize what is happening within yourself.

“Mr. Lee,” you keep going nonetheless, compartmentalizing like it’s second nature — because it is —, pulling up the additional informations you’ve just been sent, “please think about what your sister would think about what you're doing right now.”

“Don’t you fucking dare—”

“She’s a school teacher,” you continue. “She sounds like a good person. So does Mr. Kang’s wife— a nurse, isn’t she?”

You think you should feel disgusted with yourself, right about now, but there’s only place for cold determination within you. You know that you would never go after anyone for their familial relationships, and that is enough for you. They don’t seem to know. Probably would, if they’d done their research, it’s something that’s been whispered about for quite some time in the Organization, but they’ve either been sent without any information, or foolishly saw this opportunity as a way to climb up in the ranks.

Either way, what a waste.

“And Mr. Min has two young children, isn't that sweet.”

A curse, and then he shouts a name.

“I’ll make you eat your fucking heart if you hurt them, you fucking bitch,” another voice yells in the phone, and you just stare into the dark, cold waters that stretch in front of you. None of these men will be getting back to their family alive. Even if they manage to kill you, you doubt they'll escape this place. “You’re just scared,” he adds, and you blink. You should be scared, he’s right, but you mostly feel empty. “You didn't even have to be in there. Could have just picked the right fucking side instead of being a hybrid’s whore. I swear to God, if you touch my kids, we’ll—”

“Mr. Min, I already have men on their way to your house,” you interrupt him. “The sooner you surrender, the sooner I can call off my orders.”

On the other side, a number of muffled ‘fuck’, and then a brief exchange between the group. You don't think the others will back up, and it's only a matter of time before they get desperate, but for now you get a second to try to see what’s happening — and, ideally, spot your boss.

It’s when you do that you see Suga, crouched on top of the car. Based on the way the men are talking amongst themselves, they have no clue he's here.

“I’ll get your head on a fucking spi—”

Things don’t last very long once Suga springs into action. The first kill is quick and messy, knife slicing into one of the men's throat, twice, back and forth. Blood splatters all over the floor and you wince in disgust. By the time he falls to his knees, Suga's already moved on to the next one. He gets a little more time to protect himself, but the killer���s movements are too fast. His hands wrap around his neck and he squeezes with inhuman strength.

As he struggles, the other two seem to regain their focus and start to take aim at him.

It only lasts a second before Jungkook is on them. He’s slower than Suga, but there’s also more power in his movements. His fist catches the first man’s jaw as the other hand rips the machine gun — where the fuck did they get that from — out of his hands. By the time the fourth man has spun around, he’s balancing on one leg, his foot coming up to kicking him in the chest and sending him reeling for several steps.

The gun spins in his hands, and then he's using the grip to hit the man he punched, still standing. It only takes three strikes before he falls, you think, but Jungkook lands a few more before he hits the ground. When he turns around, there’s no amusement on his face, unlike what you were used to see when he was at the Circle. There's just determination and anger, maybe, if you’re reading him correctly — an ability you’ve been doubting lately.

The only man left doesn’t stand a chance, but even then, Jungkook doesn’t drag the fight on any longer than he needs to. There are, you suspect, some unnecessary punches, done more to inflict pain than anything else — these ones get the man in the stomach, have him keeling over and spitting out blood — but really, it’s all over in a few minutes.

The guy Yoongi had been strangling is also down for the count.

Jungkook and him are the only ones left standing.

There’s a brief exchange of glances between them, then a nod, and Jungkook gestures at the men on your side, who are slowly coming out of the second car. You suspect that this was a baptism of fire for them, used to blades and fists, but much less so to the kind of guns these guys had been operating; one of them remains in the car, likely wounded and you see Suga walking over to them.

You get on your feet as well. Your brain seems to have a hard time registering the fact that the threat is gone, your muscles feel too tight to move. As you take your first step, you feel pain shooting up your leg.

Shit. You hadn’t noticed you’d hurt your ankle.

But that doesn't stop you from making your way over to the group. You’ll have it checked out later, you don’t think you’ll have a choice, but for now you’d rather people not know about it.

“Why did it take you so long to intervene?” Jungkook’s snarling by the time you arrive.

“We had to turn around,” one of the men, a tall, lean cat-hybrid replies. “They knew which car you were in.”

“And how the fuck would they—”

“We have moles on their side,” you offer as you come to stand next to him, “it’s no wonder they would too.” You don’t add that, while it could have been someone at HQ, it could just as easily be one of these men. If it is the case, you don't want the mole to do something desperate right now.

Jungkook’s eyes scan you briefly. Aside from your ankle, you think you only have minor injuries. He gives a sigh of relief, or maybe he’s just breathless from the fight.

“For now,” you continue, “we need to get out of here. The police will want to interrogate us, I’ll let you know what story we’ll be going for later, but we can't be caught—”

“Watch out!”

From the way the men rush out of the way, you have to assume the threat comes behind you, but your reflexes aren’t anywhere near as fast as the hybrid’s, and as you turn your head, catching sight of the car, the thought occurs to you, clear as day, as while it rushes towards you.

This is how it ends.

Honestly, you’d feared worst.

Much to your surprise, your body forces you to lunge forward, survival instinct kicking in where you thought you had none left. Your bad ankle just does not have the strength you need to make it completely out of the way, though, and you make yourself no illusions. At least, though, you go out trying to survive.

You hadn’t thought you would.

And then arms close around you and you’re pulled forward, barely hearing the scream of effort it takes over the roaring of the engine.

You blink at the car that goes past you, see it crashing one last time in the low concrete wall that runs alongside the river. The driver collapses on the wheel, and then Yoongi’s running past you, no doubt ensuring that he doesn’t move again. He makes it quick.

In your world, that is no small mercy.

But you don't get to think about that, not when the heat coming from Jungkook’s body is spreading through yours and when his hands grab your shoulders tightly as wide, panicked eyes search yours.

“Fuck, are you okay?”

You can’t do anything but nod.

He’s gripping you tightly, fingers digging into your skin, and he looks— he looks terrified. You don't know what to do with that.

So you lower your gaze, clear your throat. One of you has to keep their head on their shoulders.

“I’m alright.”

Still no ‘Mr. Jeon’.

“We need to leave this place.”

As you say that, you raise an arm, brush your fingers over the back of his hand. He jumps at the feeling, glances down at you even as you let your arm fall back down again, then back to your face. His gaze drops to your lips — you think — and then he takes a step back.

“Yeah. You're right, I just— fuck. I thought he was out for the count. I’m sorry.”

“You've saved my life twice today,” you say — softly, you think, but it’s hard to tell. “You don’t have to apologize to me.”

“Still, I—”

“Jungkook. Thank you.”

He looks conflicted, but then he sighs and gestures for you to get in the car.

In the crowded vehicle, you allow yourself a second to close your eyes. His arm, tense as bowstring, is brushing against you, and for a second, there’s just static in your brain, just exhaustion and his warmth that’s transferring to you.

Soon, of course, you go back to the planning, to the things you’ll need to change to ensure this doesn’t happen again, to everything that is to come and everything that needs to be done, the never ending list unfolding neatly in your mind.

But there is a second of quiet first. A second where, for once, you don’t try to fight the complicated feelings that have been going through you lately and where you almost — almost, but not quite — let yourself melt against the man who’s saved your life twice today.

So there it is. Uh. This might be the fastest chapter I've written as well as the longest. I did use a different writing method for this one so I don't know how this worked out. Because I wrote it on the heels of the last one, I was still in 'OC's voice', so it wasn't as hard to get back into it. I also wrote a lot more regularly. So... yeah, I would love it if you'd let me now how you feel about this, and hopefully getting another chapter in less than a month isn't too much of a shock for you lol. I hope you enjoyed the chapter!

#jungkook x reader #bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jjk #hybrid jungkook #bts mafia au #bts hybrid au #candywrites #if i can never give you peace #iicngyp

[nocturn-warrior]

Kiss of seedcake• 🌧

Lotor x f!reader

Summary: building a life with Lotor on Earth after the galras were defeated, you decide to try for a child :)

Rating: fluff, smut (breeding kink)

Notes: this is set after season 8 events, in a timeline where my boy Lotor didn't die and lives happily with u on Earth. This smut has a plot.

Warnings: mentions of pregnancy and lactation, body changes mentions, mentions racism towards Lotor, my grammar because i am not a native speaker lmao

since Sendak and his army was completely defeated thanks to Voltron and their allies. And with an extra help of the space visitors, human kind quickly rebuilt its structures, combining the advanced technologies of their new colleagues with their own. Flying vessels, space travels and colonies, complex security AI systems and media were a great leap in history.

Not surprisingly, interspecies relationships emerged among the coexistence of humans and extraterrestrials, besides it was a taboo for some people, the most conservative ones, you could easily spot a human walking and a balmeran holding hands on the streets. But as expected, racism towards the space visitors was a thing, especially towards the galra people.

Being blamed for the death of so many, even not having affiliation with Sendak’s deadly army, the purple skinned people were a target to bigotry not just coming from humans but also from other extraterrestrials. With your partner Lotor, it wasn’t different. Making public appearances together, you could feel the reproved gaze of your peers, judging the nature of your relationship as disgusting, selfish. Some showed concern, fearing Lotor could harm you in any way, while others called you an enemy, a traitor for engaging yourself to an individual of a species that slaved, tortured and killed so many in the galaxy.

As the only begotten son of emperor Zarkon, so many wanted his head for what his father caused during centuries, and for reprehensible actions of his own. You were constantly reminded of Lotor’s thirst to acquire quintessence and what he did to reach his goals, the hundreds of alteans locked in tanks he utilized as cattle to harvest the substance. The United Planets Council decided he would not receive death penitence or be locked for his crimes, but he should be exiled.

“Exiled… I am used to this condition”

It was better this way; though Lotor wanted and deserved redemption, not everyone including the paladins would accept it easily. When you established you would not abandon him, they immediately intervened reminding you of what his family caused to everyone, of what your late friend princess Allura would want. You were tired of it all. You loved Lotor and wanted to keep him safe, even if it means cutting connections with your friends. You couldn’t risk having your boyfriend stabbed from behind by a vengeful self-proclaimed punisher.

Lotor understood the gravity of his actions he didn’t even tried to defend himself. But he repined every day about how quintessence drove him mad, crazy for power, and that those moments of madness showed up as nothing but foggy memories in his mind. It broke your heart to see Lotor eager to be accepted in this new multispecies society, but being doomed by his past. Deep in his core, all he wanted was that: to be accepted and to fix everything up. Even when he was still the prince of the mighty galra empire, all he did was for a bigger purpose. He knew he took the wrong route, though.

Four years ago you moved together to your family’s old farm; only you, Lotor and the desire to begin a new life. Part of the farm, including the barn and the stable were destroyed by the attacks, but luckily the house you grew up in was intact, except for the dust and spider webs covering the rooms. Nothing you couldn’t fix up. Lotor is a quick learner, his intelligence was always something you appreciated, and with a quickly explaining of how to use house devices, he became a master at it except for the vacuum cleaner.

“How can you pilot a high technological spaceship and be defeated by a vacuum cleaner, my dear?”

You would tease him, leaning against a wall while seeing your lover struggle to clean the dust of the living room. Lotor in his endeavor would blame the device instead of admitting he was having a bad time using it. You find that silly and adorable. It took some days for your house to be properly inhabited again, with Lotor’s help, everything was easy.

He would wash clothes, cook for you – that thin waist of his looked adorable in one of your late grandmother’s apron, and a few other things. But still, he missed space and missed the adrenaline. That mind of his was always hunger for knowledge and staying so much time without absorbing anything was frustrating and tedious. Lotor in fact would not complain about it, but noticing the lack of enthusiasm in your love, you gifted him with a box of the old books you used to read while graduating; psych, biology, chemistry, and others you kept a special interest about but were not exactly linked to your graduation; history and anthropology.

Besides you were a good storyteller, talking about the myths and cultures of your species along with its advances and knowledge on science, nothing compares to touch, read and learn about something from primary fonts. As you expected, Lotor was more than happy when you handled him your collection. Some of the concepts stored in the books were at least eight years outdated, but still he could have a notion of humankind’s plurality, maybe hoping he could integrate himself into society one day.

Everything was so perfect you feared something bad would happen to spoil the moment. Your days were simple and cozy in your home, and occasionally you had to leave to buy some groceries but would come back soon.

Four years ago when the invasion occurred, families found shelter in the rural areas once the galras attacked the big urban centers first. And from this, a small agriculture and livestock centered community was born. They provided food for the cities near the reagion, and living only one or two miles away, you groceries from first hand.

In this specific day, you arrived home carrying a bag full of fresh fruits, vegetables, flour and some animal products. Lotor was sitting on the couch. He wore a grey sweater that reached the mid of his wrists and black sweatpants that barely reached his ankles, snuggling on his muscular calves. Big boy problems. His starlight hair tied into a messy bun was occasionally scratched as he concentred on the book he was reading. In fact, he was so focused on the book that didn't even notice you comming.

"Im back, love!"

You said opening the door and he slightly jumped on his seat.

"Hello, dear! I indeed didn't perceive you arriving. I was quite concentrated on this book i've been reading"

He got himself together, cleaning his throat before helping you to take the groceries to the kitchen. His gaze immediatly directed towards the sway of your hips as you walked.

"Which one is this?"

You ask, placing the bags on the table and cleaning your hands. Lotor blinks for a while, being snapped out of his beholding state:

"It is about the development of agriculture and how it's linked to the appearance of religious cults. I am quite amused by the first forms of art created by your species, dear, and how the belief in gods and deities is linked to the discovering of agriculture. It is pretty interesting how such topics that don’t seem to be linked at first sight are related.”

He continues:

 “The most interesting part, my dear, is that most of these civilizations were situated in quite green and prosper lands, therefore their deities reflected in the places they inhabited. While the people that lived in arid and desert places had vengeful and warrior gods.”

He speaks with enthusiasm, smiling like you have not seen in at least four years. His lust for you was being masked with non-stop bragging about what he learned in that day. Lotor was indeed fascinated by how some ancient human civilizations valorized fertility and reproduction, but what excited him most was to put this in practice. His cock jutted against the fabric of his sweatpants when he saw those sensual statues of Venus in the pages of that book. He wanted you. He wanted to make you his own goddess of fertility.

After drying your hands on a towel, you swiftly turn to your husband, paying attention to his words. But the look on his feline eyes told you everything. The pupils were dilated, shiny like binary stars. You smirk, and when you do so, Lotor stumbles on his own words.

“I have been always fascinated with this topic too, my dear.”

You put on an innocent facade, crossing your arms and leaning your beautiful hips against the counter. Lotor’s hands twitched, urging to squeeze them as you ride his cock gracefully like the goddess you were to him. He licks his lips and smiles:

“Nothing fairer, darling. You are a goddess yourself. But do you know what is missing?”

You obliviously shake your head to his question.

“A seed to be fertilized in this womb of yours”

Just by hearing his deep sensual voice, you feel your core flutter with excitement. The galran prince approaches you, closing the space between your bodies. All you do is to let him guide you onto his arms and give yourself to this blissful heat.

His thumb traces your lowerbelly, imagining it growing as a proof of the seed he implanted in your womb. He imagines your breasts swelling, leaking the milk that will nurture your child.

Lotor sinks his hand under your hair, softly bringing you closer to him and intensifying the kiss. Your fingers travel under his sweater, tracing his divinely sculpted abs one by one. The desire of being impregnated by him only grew stronger and stronger.

He strips you down, taking off your shirt and giving your breasts good squeezes before attaching his lips to the plump sides of them, leaving soft hickeys on your skin. You pant caressing his jaw as he does it.

Then, his long fingers skim down towards your groin. He gently slids down the waistband and kneals down in front of you. Hugging your hips, Lotor attaches his mouth onto your cut, sweetly suckling your clit as you tug onto his hair, undoing the messy bun he had.

"Lotor..."

You moan sweetly, and it sounds like the chant of Earth itself, like the sounds of raindrops falling onto soil.

His skilled tongue dances around your clit. Your legs tremble and if he wasn't holding you still by your hips, you would definitly lose your balance with so much pleasure being given.

And like a water dam being open, your fluids flow into Lotor's mouth and he delights on it like honey. He moans pulling off and looking up to see your divine glory squirm in pleasure.

Standing up, Lotor holds you on his arms in bridal style, you lean in like a dandelion seed being carried by wind and he places you onto the canopy bed, the plush cushion softly sinking with your body.

Looking up at Lotor while he takes off his own clothing, you get a sight of his purple large cock deliciouspy jutting against his pants. It wiggles tantalizing when his boxers are finally down, hard and reaching his lower belly.

With your fingers you trace his abs again, they are sculpted and perfect like a statue meticulously carved in marble by the best of the sculptors. His silver bodyhair stands on ends with your touch.

Lotor gently inserts his large cock in your entrance, being enthralled by your moans. Your cunt is tight for his size, but soon it accomodates his full length.

He moans loudly and sensually twitching his hips, you reach out to squeeze his muscular butt as it recoils and releases with his thrust. Your motion seems like an extra stimulus.

"Stars. May your womb be a fertile field where i will plant my crops. You are perfect!"

He pants, the pace increasing and your bodies sweating, your pleasured noises echoing through the wood walls.

"I am going to fill you up, dear. I am going to make you a mother; i am going to make you my own fertility deity."

That was when you orgasmed.

It feels like you two were perfcetly designed for this, like your bodies were shaped by universe to create life. You bury your hand underneath Lotor's hair, his front strands are falling and tickling your face. As his pace increases, you hold it tighter and beautiful gasps leave his mouth.

"I- i am comming..."

Soon, the river flooded the land and you felt his warm seed inside your womb. Pace slowing down, Lotor remains the last frictions with his cock still in your vagine.

He pants a chuckle cleaning his sweaty forehead with his forearm. You let out a dizzy smile, reaching out to cup his cheek as your brain process the event, beholding his how graceful he looks.

Releasing his cock, Lotor gently pushes the oozing translucid liquid to inside of you again, rubbing it onto your still sensitive cunt. His ejaculation is so voluminous it feels like every inch of your tube is filled up. The alien man leans in and kisses your cheek:

"You were so great, darling... I... wow! I have no words to describe it. You will be a good mama"

His sudden use of an earthling slang makes you chuckle. How can a man be so sensually irresistible, and seconds later make your heart melt with such an adorable, silly thing? This is a Lotor ability, you guess. He messes with your mind in the better ways possible.

Cleaning up the sweat, you snuggle onto Lotor's chest while calming down your nerves after such a moment. The seed has been implanted to your womb, and Lotor couldn't wait for it to grow.

#lotor x reader #prince lotor x reader #voltron x reader #lotor fanfiction #reader insert #vld x reader #voltron fanfic #cw breeding #cw pregnancy #cw lactation #cw body image #cw racism

[bridgeportbritt]

We're back for another edition of SimDonia Style Through the Years! You may have remembered a post I did not too long ago which showed how SimDonia style has evolved throughout history. Well, we're diving back in for a part 2 where explore more looks and the lore around them!

Before the Revolution

As mentioned in the last post, women had to wear modest clothing. Fully covered, long dresses, with their hair up, no matter the class due to Bella Goths desire to be best dressed in the land. SimDonians (at the time called Pendites) did not have access to the outside world, so even though modern fashions/technology/etc. were becoming prevelant, Pendites were intentionally kept in the dark.

The biggest fashion difference between classes is the working class didn't get access to the nice fabrics that the wealthy classes did. Working women tended to their families, gardens, homes and often had jobs doing the same for the wealthy women. Wealthy women lived lives of leisure as their husbands had jobs in government or other high powered roles.

During the Revolution

The best way to rebel for women was to wear shorter lengthed and sleeved dresses or even wear their hair down. Some would go as far as to practice Jacoban openly (which was banned) as seen in Look #4. You could spot if a wealthy woman was supportive of the revolution the same way. Though, many found ways to play both sides by wearing off the shoulder sleeve dresses that could quickly be brought up or down depending on their company.

During the revolution, working women supported their husbands who were fighting but some fought themselves, as well. Wealthy women also tried to support their high powered husbands and keep their help away from the revolution as they didn't want status quo to change. Many were stuck between wanting to keep the hostility away from them and wanting to keep their money and power.

After the Revolution

Once the war was over, wealth became better distributed as the new government tried to build a better society by the people for the people. Nations started embracing Pendites (Now officially known as SimDonians) and rejoicing from the end of threat of war from the power hungry Goths. It was a new day in terms of both society and fashion.

Working women finally had access to fine fabrics and colors. Many working women especially those with husbands in the war, moved up in terms of wealth and were able to find better jobs in the new society or saw higher pay for their old jobs. Depending on which side their husbands were on in the war, some wealthy classes fled after the death of the Goths while others on the right side were able to hold on or even gain more wealth and even power. In terms of fashion, women felt the need to differentiate themselves by dressing more lavishly than the working class.

The Experimental Phase

Over the years, the government was establishing itself, borders were opening, and modern society has began making its way to SimDonia. More and more people were prospering, getting an education, being paid fairly for their work. During this phase, people were finally free to travel and explore other countries, especially to get an education.

What we saw happen was styles from all over the simverse get brought back to SimDonia especially from more advanced societies like Simerica (Look #2,3, and 7), Komorebi (Look #1 part of 4, 6), Sulani (Look #4), and Kiwa Bonde (Look #8). While seemingly harmless in practice, looking back it was clear SimDonians were appropriating these styles which eventually blended into the modern fashion we see today.

Present Day

Today, SimDonia has caught up to modern societies at a fast pace thanks to establishing a government passionate about being progressive and effective, plus other nations coming together to assist the newly formed nation securing foreign bonds.

In terms of fashion, SimDonia is a melting pot of different cultures, trends, and styles. The difference in class is harder to spot through dress with styles reaching both and varying based on personal style instead. SimDonia is currently on its way to become a fashion capital of the simverse as new designers and the fashion industry continues to grow.

#simdonia #worldbuilding #simdonia style #more looks!!! #which era is your fav? #could this be leading to something more? #<.< #who's to say

[saintsenara]

1,8,18,21,22

thank you very much for the ask, @ashesandhackles. let's see how these go down...

[choose violence ask game here]

1. who is the character everyone gets wrong?

the last time i answered this question i said sirius - both fanon sirius and dark!sirius - and i stand by it, so this time, let's say... dumbledore.

and, actually, i think this for many of the same reasons which inspired my sirius answer. i really dislike dumbledore bashing, since it’s so frequently based in a complete misunderstanding of his character and the role he serves within the series’ narrative conventions - above all, the fact that the omniscient vibe he gives off in books 1-6 is not actually omniscience at all, as book 7 reveals; dumbledore doesn’t know that sirius is innocent, or that moody is barty crouch jr., or that kreacher is passing information to voldemort, because he’s just a human being. far too many criticisms of dumbledore don’t take this into account, ascribing to malice what is clearly just fallibility.

but, with this said, i dislike the anti-bashing turn in dumbledore-centric fics just as much, because many of these pair the idea that dumbledore is fallible (good and correct) with the idea that he is - for want of a better term - harry-ish. and this is just as bad a misreading of the character. dumbledore is not impulsive or reckless or radical - he holds radical views, but he does nothing to actually advance them in society (this is a man who is at the heart of the establishment for half a century, who does nothing with that power to dismantle the oppressive social structures which drive wizarding politics and prop up blood-supremacy). dumbledore is a hypocrite - he’s happy to be depended on by fudge, he is appalled that fudge might depend on lucius malfoy. dumbledore lives in an ivory tower. dumbledore projects his shame and self-loathing onto others in a way which is detrimental to their own happiness. and so on.

none of these things preclude dumbledore being courageous, but his ‘gryffindor courage’ is remarkably un-gryffindorish, and a lot of pro-dumbledore writing is surprisingly unwilling to confront this.

[also, there’s the other layer of pro-dumbledore writing i dislike - when authors make him hyper-whimsical. the man is stylish, rather than dressed like he ran into a charity shop and fell over. his sweet tooth is an incidental detail - and a trait which harry also shares - rather than his entire personality. he is not dithering and indecisive - he is a creature of inaction, but he tends to have settled on a single ‘right’ course very quickly in his mind. he is not silly. he is not a blushing fool in his relationships - all evidence is that he had just as much power over grindelwald as grindelwald had over him. he is not particularly emotionally demonstrative. he is physically strong. he is taller than voldemort. and, crucially, his mask of benign good humour is fake. all of his ‘whimsical’ traits are part of the act, the real dumbledore is ruthless and damaged and a nerd who loves reading and it’s iconic. let him be that way.]

8. what is the common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about?

there is no such thing as canon compliance.

by which i mean that ‘canon compliant’ is a useful tag to have on ao3 as an indicator of chronology - it’s a good shorthand for ‘the people who die in the series will die in this fic too’, ‘the main events which happen in the books will be mentioned here’, and so on. but i’m not sure that i think it goes beyond that.

and the reason for that, is that i have never seen anything which purports to be canon compliant beyond chronology - including my own work - which actually is.

there are several reasons for this:

the first is something which, if you’ve read other posts on this blog, you will know is a common refrain of mine - that the series is bound by specific genre conventions. if authors are transferring the action into a genre different from the ones the series makes use of, they are not writing something which is canon compliant, but canon coherent.

the second is that if authors are filling in gaps which are missing from the series - above all, the marauders-era or post-war-pre-epilogue timeline - they are doing something which is materially no different from writing a non-canon ship. i.e. writing exactly what they want. if your fic is crammed with original characters, or your marauders listen to cool muggle music, or you’ve spent more than twenty seconds thinking about the wizarding political or legal system then i love that for you - this is good and everyone should do it. but it’s not canon compliant. it’s canon coherent.

the third - and undoubtedly most controversial - is that you cannot write something canon compliant and hold the principle that the author is dead. because we know exactly how jkr thinks that canon should be interpreted, and this is often in ways which are - to borrow a phrase from ursula le guin - rather ethically mean-spirited. jkr’s views on fairness, violence, class, motherhood, love, and - of course - gender weave themselves into the narrative in ways which cannot simply be written off as ‘oh, it’s just harry’s perspective.’

i believe we have a moral imperative to know what she thinks and to interrogate the ways in which this appears in the canon text. i also think - obviously - that we don’t have to agree with what she thinks in order to write things which feel close to canon. and i don’t agree with her - not only when it comes to her views on trans people, which are actively harmful - but also when it comes to things like the fact that she’s clearly someone who’s rather vindictive, but who believes that this vindictiveness is really a strong sense of fairness (look, for example, at the dichotomy between how the text presents violence against people it thinks ‘deserve’ it - harry using the cruciatus curse on amycus carrow being a great example, neither harry, nor mcgonagall, nor the narrative give a fuck - and those it thinks don't). or the fact that her own experience of both motherhood and daughterhood - an experience which was clearly very traumatic for her (her mother died of multiple sclerosis, her first husband was violent towards her, she has an extremely difficult relationship with her father) - drives the series’ prioritisation of sacrificial motherhood, criticism towards mothers who don’t make their children the focus of their entire world, and certain coolness towards fathers (especially absentee ones - who will be blamed by the narrative for being murdered by their own sons). or the fact that she has extremely narrow views on cisgender women, even before her views on trans women are taken into account, which turn up again and again in how female characters we are not supposed to be sympathetic towards are written.

i am not, of course, suggesting that writing a fic which is heavily based in canon means that an author supports jkr’s views. what i am saying instead is that fics which engage with questions such as how harry understands violence against the bad guys in ways which go beyond ‘lol, lmao’ or which write lavender as a person whose fondness for stereotypical femininity doesn’t make her insubstantial or which point out that the narrative blaming merope gaunt for dying directly justifies everything voldemort believes are canon coherent.

and, actually, i think that this broader term - canon coherent - is a better one to talk about the non-chronological aspects of canon compliance. because the dividing line between canon compliant fics and canon divergent ones is incredibly arbitrary, and often doesn’t take into account how close to canon the writing in otherwise canon divergent stories often is. after all, if someone writes a story in which harry feels exactly like his canon self, except that the romantic partner he ends up with isn’t ginny, that is arguably more canon compliant than a piece of happy-ever-after hinny in which ginny is a doormat who gives up her career to be harry’s bang maid and harry speaks like he’s had twenty years of therapy. but only one of these pieces will be welcomed onto canon compliant rec-lists and into canon compliant discussion spaces.

[and it’s worth mentioning that plenty of canon compliant only spaces do allow flexibility - above all in being open to interpretations of characters such as james, harry, and hermione in which they are not white. this is good and they should continue to do this, but we can go further, especially in accepting queer interpretations of the main characters into canon compliant discussion.]

i also think - and i’m aware this may sound cruel - that thinking in terms of canon coherence, rather than compliance and divergence, would be good for everybody’s ego. i can acknowledge that plenty of people who diverge from canon can be dicks about it - and i think that the criticism people who prefer the canon endgame ships often get for being ‘boring’ (and, in the case of ships such as remadora, ‘homophobic’) is bullshit - but the canon compliant girlies (gender neutral) are, in many cases, no better. it is not harder to write something ‘canon compliant’ - not least because, as discussed, you’re not - and it is not evidence of an author engaging more seriously with the text and its themes. there is a tendency i have noticed in the fandom spaces i inhabit, many of which feature people whose preference is for the canon ships etc., for non canon pairings to be treated as - essentially - crack ships, especially in stories which are light or whimsical in tone. but when i say that writing on tomarry or snarry or snack or snapemort or drarry or riddledore or wolfstar or what have you can deliver characterisation and worldbuilding and narrative construction which feels infinitely more plausible than many ‘canon compliant’ pieces of writing, i mean this entirely seriously.

and i think it would be good if the dividing line which leads many people to say ‘i don’t read canon divergent fics’ or ‘i don’t read canon compliant fics’ was instead blended into a preference for fics which are canon coherent or otherwise. we would all learn something.

18. it’s absolutely criminal that the fandom has been sleeping on…

delphini.

another reason why canon coherence over canon compliance is valuable is it means that one can pretend the cursed child doesn’t exist.

but i would like to make a case for the fact that delphini as a concept (so, nothing like the way she’s written in that play…) makes sense and is a character i’d like to see added to more stuff. she works within both voldemort and bellatrix’s canonical arcs, she gives rodolphus something to do post-war after he spends canon being futile, imagine how funny it would be if teddy had a crush on her, george-michael and maeby style (truly les cousins dangereux), imagine how funny it would be if she is the spitting image of her muggle grandfather and her dad’s having a crisis every time he sees her, imagine her trying to parent trap voldemort and bellatrix into actually falling in love…

you can do serious things with her too - in fact, i have - but, as someone who thinks anything is improved by someone spindly and vaguely sinister, i think she’s a hoot and she deserves to turn up in more things.

21: what part of canon do you think is overhyped?

my eyes were bone dry when dobby-ex-machina died.

22: what is your favourite part of canon, which everyone else ignores?

that harry is a luxury boy. let my man buy his solid gold cauldron, hagrid, don’t be a narc.

[in general, i don't love versions of harry which show him as really abstemious or austere - he's pretty careless with his possessions and he doesn't regard the expensive things he owns as something to be unusually protective over. in his adulthood, he's 100% making sure his shed is stocked with the best brooms on the market and buying himself a little treat whenever he's feeling spenny.]

#choose violence ask game #albus dumbledore #is chill and i'll defend him #canon compliant #is bullshit #delphini riddle #is real #all the takes this morning #asks answered

[moontyuns]

slow love;

words count: 781 pairing: soobin x gn!reader genre: established relationships, fluff, just a tiinyyy bit suggestive (if you squint) warnings: bad writing, lots of kisses, light makeout session 

song rec.: tender - slow love;

You got back from work earlier today. The day was so tiring as hell and you want anything but make a warm tea and lay on the soft cushions of your couch. With that in mind, you changed into your comfortable outfit and went to the kitchen to make some tea for yourself. While the kettle is heating you decided to check your phone for any notifications from your boyfriend or other friends, but there was nothing. Judging by the time your boyfriend should be already on his way home. The water boiled already, so once you hear the clicking sound you made your favorite berry tea and went back to the living room. Mindlessly you turned on the first show you saw on your recommendations and tucked yourself in a fluffy blanket and grabbed your cup. 

After what seemed like 40 minutes or so, you heard the sound of the lock clicking and the door opened “Hi baby, I’m home” the sweet sound of your lover’s voice greeted your ears. You missed him so much, every of your working day the only thing you wait for is to come back to your sweet little apartment and dive into Soobin’s hugs, while you are tightly secured in his arms you can pretend that the outside world doesn’t exist. The boy now standing in a doorway and watch as you stretch your arms to him and make these little grabby movements with your hands. “Hey lovee, come here I want to cuddle with you” you whined softly and Soobin chuckled at your antics. 

He slowly headed to the couch you laid on, you quickly made some room for him so he will be able to fit. He lay beside you, and you instantly moved your arms to his shoulders and your face closer to his neck. Soobin slowly sneaked his arms around your waist and pressed your body closer to his. “How was your day?” one of the boy’s hands moved to your head and he start stroking your hair. “You know..kind of tough and tiring. My boss keeps demanding from me a lot and my co-workers are the shittiest people as usual. I dreamed for these 8 hours to sooner come back home and see you” you snuggle closer to him and breathed his smell, he is using this cologne that you gave him last Christmas, and you like how it smells on him. “My poor baby, now you can forget about anything with me” he kissed your temple softly, then his lips moved to your cheek. The hand that was in your hair now lifted your chin and you faced his relaxed features, small smile played on his plush lips as he bring them closer to yours. Soobin tenderly kissed the corner of your lips and slightly pulled back just to check on you, he knows that you waited for this but he still keeps teasing you. “Soobin, just kiss me already, I can’t wait anymore” you whined trying to pull him closer, but he tried his best to resist and gave you that smirk of his that you wanted to wipe so badly right now because he does this every time he wanted to play with you. “Nope, let me admire you for a little bit, can you?” his hand ghostly wandered across your cheeks and jawline and you leaned to his feathery touches. Then he brings his face closer to yours his sugary lips touched yours lightly, and you pressed your lips firmer to his. Soobin moved his lips slowly and delicately, setting the rhythm of your kiss, you tried to keep up with his pace. The kiss was soft and viscous, you feel every movement of your lover’s mellow lips and to be honest you didn't want it to end. You felt him biting your lips and with every bite, the kiss got more greedy and messy. He pulled away first, both of you devoured the air that you lacked in your lungs. “Baby, I love you, but I guess I love your lips more, they’re doing magic to me” you chuckle lightly and pecked his pinky lips. “So you wanna say that you date me only for these plush lips, huh?” he acted as if he was offended by your words, but actually he is not, he is fine with this fact.” Of course not! But these fine lips are pretty bonus for me” you softly run your forefinger across his lower lip and smiled. Soobin abruptly took your hand in his and peppered your face with dozens of sweet kisses mumbling quiet “I love you’s” in between while you laughed at the ticklish feeling.

Reblogs and likes are highly appreciated <3

Do not - steal / copy / repost / translate any of my works !

#soobin scenarios #soobin imagines #soobin drabbles #soobin x reader #txt scenarios #txt drabbles #txt imagines #txt x reader #txt #soobin

[redlegumes]

Steddiemas Day Four

December 4th - Questionable Holiday Movie or Song

Gremlins

written for @steddiemas

AO3: link | wc: 577 | Rating: G | CW: none | tags: holiday movie, popcorn fight, our son dustin henderson, new relationship

Summary: Eddie and Steve have started dating but not really hanging with Dustin as a couple so they sit down together for a holiday movie. (Lite Holiday Henderdads)

'Gremlins' with the Gremlin

( •̀ ᄇ• ́)ﻭ✧🍿

“Soooo puppets,” Steve said, loudly popping the ‘p’ while managing to still look entirely unimpressed. “Puppet, horror movie but it's also Christmas.”

“Steveeeee,’’ Eddie groaned, holding the ‘Gremlins’ tape up while shaking it. “You work at Hawkins's only movie rental store and you don't know ‘Gremlins!’”

Steve shrugged. “I sort of remember the tagline I think? Something to do with not feeding them after midnight?”

“This. This Harrington is what will finally kill me.” Eddie's exasperation with Steve’s pop culture understanding somehow NEVER overlapping with his own had reached new heights since they started dating. It was one thing not to get a couple references… but dismissing great works, like instant Christmas classics! That was another issue entirely.

“Stop being so dramatic.”

Eddie scoffed as dramatically as he could in response to Dustin’s intervening comment.

Continues after the cut

Dustin ignored him. “Steve can be taught, we've learned this. He can develop an appreciation for-

“-nerd shit?” Steve interrupted, unhelpfully.

“-good media,” Dustin finished with a long sigh.

Eddie still lightly fumed while putting the tape in the vhs player before flopping on the couch, at the other end from Steve.

They'd both agreed to movie night with Dustin because it has gotten a little weird that the three of them hadn't hung out since Eddie and Steve got together. Steve or Eddie would hang with Dustin, and the couple had no problem that they each connected with the kid in different ways, but by December they'd never hung out together unless they were with the big group. So, Dustin suggested they do a movie night.

Steve said Eddie was needlessly worried leading up to it. As Eddie simmered, he realized that was part of why he might've already been short with Steve. They were no longer a ‘new’ couple but Eddie liked their dynamic. He wanted to be in a couple that could chill with people (other than Robin). Dustin’s movie night made him realize they didn’t really do that. Steve’s outings and Eddie’s outings rarely combined. When he thought about it, they kind of split up for group events too. He’d started to question if they really were comfortable being an established couple around their friends.

Sometime during his spiral, as the characters on screen realized the Gremlins were evil killers, Steve had left the living room. Eddie became aware he’d gotten up, because Steve had just returned, handing a bowl of popcorn to Dustin before shoo-ing the kid to the other end of the couch. After a grumbling Dustin moved, Steve sat next to Eddie. He threw an arm around his shoulder. Frustratingly, Steve’s warm presence was as calming as always.

“Baby, we both know you don't keep me around because I have great taste in movies.” Steve leaned in and planted a chaste kiss to Eddie’s cheek while his free hand quickly squeezed Eddie’s knee.

“Oh gross,” Dustin exclaimed, and Eddie watched a piece of popcorn sail over Steve's head, landing in his own hair.

“Now Henderson, that just won’t do. Harrington’s completely right.” He winked at Steve and reached over Steve’s lap to grab a handful of popcorn that he then rained on Dustin’s curls.

A popcorn fight of epic proportions followed.

Eddie, Steve, and Dustin all ended up on the floor, laughing despite Eddie loudly proclaiming himself the winner after dumping the unpopped kernels down Steve's shirt.

Dustin sat up, wiping tears from his eyes. “See, I knew hanging with you both would be awesome!”

2023 RedLegumes Steddiemas 1 2 3 4 5 6 10 SteddieHolidayDrabbles 1 2 3 4 6 8 9 10

#holiday movie #popcorn fight #our son dustin henderson #new relationship #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #i write things #steddiemas #ficlet #steddie ficlet #gremlins

[stardustsunny]

slow love;

words count: 781

pairing: soobin x gn!reader

genre: established relationships, fluff, just a tiinyyy bit suggestive (if you squint)

warnings: bad writing, lots of kisses, light makeout session

song rec.: tender - slow love;

You got back from work earlier today. The day was so tiring as hell and you want anything but make a warm tea and lay on the soft cushions of your couch. With that in mind, you changed into your comfortable outfit and went to the kitchen to make some tea for yourself. While the kettle is heating you decided to check your phone for any notifications from your boyfriend or other friends, but there was nothing. Judging by the time your boyfriend should be already on his way home. The water boiled already, so once you hear the clicking sound you made your favorite berry tea and went back to the living room. Mindlessly you turned on the first show you saw on your recommendations and tucked yourself in a fluffy blanket and grabbed your cup.

After what seemed like 40 minutes or so, you heard the sound of the lock clicking and the door opened “Hi baby, I’m home” the sweet sound of your lover’s voice greeted your ears. You missed him so much, every of your working day the only thing you wait for is to come back to your sweet little apartment and dive into Soobin’s hugs, while you are tightly secured in his arms you can pretend that the outside world doesn’t exist. The boy now standing in a doorway and watch as you stretch your arms to him and make these little grabby movements with your hands. “Hey lovee, come here I want to cuddle with you” you whined softly and Soobin chuckled at your antics.

He slowly headed to the couch you laid on, you quickly made some room for him so he will be able to fit. He lay beside you, and you instantly moved your arms to his shoulders and your face closer to his neck. Soobin slowly sneaked his arms around your waist and pressed your body closer to his. “How was your day?” one of the boy’s hands moved to your head and he start stroking your hair. “You know..kind of tough and tiring. My boss keeps demanding from me a lot and my co-workers are the shittiest people as usual. I dreamed for these 8 hours to sooner come back home and see you” you snuggle closer to him and breathed his smell, he is using this cologne that you gave him last Christmas, and you like how it smells on him. “My poor baby, now you can forget about anything with me” he kissed your temple softly, then his lips moved to your cheek. The hand that was in your hair now lifted your chin and you faced his relaxed features, small smile played on his plush lips as he bring them closer to yours. Soobin tenderly kissed the corner of your lips and slightly pulled back just to check on you, he knows that you waited for this but he still keeps teasing you. “Soobin, just kiss me already, I can’t wait anymore” you whined trying to pull him closer, but he tried his best to resist and gave you that smirk of his that you wanted to wipe so badly right now because he does this every time he wanted to play with you. “Nope, let me admire you for a little bit, can you?” his hand ghostly wandered across your cheeks and jawline and you leaned to his feathery touches. Then he brings his face closer to yours his sugary lips touched yours lightly, and you pressed your lips firmer to his. Soobin moved his lips slowly and delicately, setting the rhythm of your kiss, you tried to keep up with his pace. The kiss was soft and viscous, you feel every movement of your lover’s mellow lips and to be honest you didn't want it to end. You felt him biting your lips and with every bite, the kiss got more greedy and messy. He pulled away first, both of you devoured the air that you lacked in your lungs. “Baby, I love you, but I guess I love your lips more, they’re doing magic to me” you chuckle lightly and pecked his pinky lips. “So you wanna say that you date me only for these plush lips, huh?” he acted as if he was offended by your words, but actually he is not, he is fine with this fact.” Of course not! But these fine lips are pretty bonus for me” you softly run your forefinger across his lower lip and smiled. Soobin abruptly took your hand in his and peppered your face with dozens of sweet kisses mumbling quiet “I love you’s” in between while you laughed at the ticklish feeling.

Reblogs and likes are highly appreciated <3

Do not copy/translate/repost thx.

#k-labels #soobin scenarios #soobin drabble #soobin x reader #choi soobin x reader #txt imagines #txt fluff #txt scenarios #txt drabbles #soobin imagines #choi soobin scenarios #choi soobin #soobin #txt #soobin fluff

[cosmorice]

Lie

Pairing: businessman!eren jaeger x reader

Genre: angst

Tw: sad, no happy ending

Wc: 1.7k

Song rec: Lie by Nessa Barrett

November 10th, 2023

The yellow-hued leaves crinkled against your thickened boots as you strolled down the bustling streets of New York. Autumn here was quite beautiful, although you did prefer springtime, where the green and full trees glistened against the sun. The cold air tickles your face before your movements come to an abrupt halt. A tall man cowers above you, emerald green eyes sparkling as he profusely apologizes. You manage to give him a small smile and wave off the accidental mishap. It was rush hour after all. People have jobs and lives. You manage to get a better glimpse of him. His broad shoulders were covered in a black business suit, complimenting the loosely done bun that his brown locks were in. He seemed to be well established. You hoped to maybe, just maybe, bump into the handsome stranger once more.

November 13th, 2023

Heading home after another boring day at the office was a pain in the ass. You were not looking forward to being on the jam-packed trains. But here you were, waiting for the next train to take you home. Oh how good that sounds right now to just be snuggled in your warm bed. After about 5 minutes of watching rats crawl through the tracks, the loud train comes to a screeching halt as you begin to board. Grabbing onto the first railing you spot overhead, you notice a familiar loose bun in your peripheral view. 

“Hey, you’re the guy that bumped into me the other day.” You laugh, as he turns to face you. Those damn emerald eyes catching your gaze, as his face heats up in a light shade of crimson.

Stand clear of the closing doors please.

What were the odds that you’d see him again? Maybe god answered your prayers? Who knows. What you do wish now though, is that you never encountered him. Ever again.

December 31st, 2023

A month goes by. A month of movie dates, sleepovers, late night calls, traveling to the inner depths of the city for pizza, before he decides to make things official. It was you and Eren against the world. He began opening up about how his family resided back home in Tokyo, a family that consisted of a stay at home mom, his adopted sister Mikasa, and his now deceased father. 

The past month was a whirlwind to say the least. You fell hard and fast, along with Eren. He was charming, intelligent, humorous, and everything that you envisioned in a dream man. You could say that you were in love. 

The music was booming, as the clock struck 11:00PM. Your friends sky rise apartment overlooked the city, and lucky for you all, you got a pretty kickass view of Times Square. You were radiant the whole night, excitedly chattering away and introducing Eren to all of your friends at the gathering. Everyone adored him, some even compared him to your last boyfriend, Levi, who ended up cheating on you with some bimbo you can’t even remember. Of course Eren knew about this. Conversations flowed so freely between the both of you, and as you explained the hurt and pain that Levi caused, Eren made a promise that you were his & he was yours. Forever.

The countdown began as a drunk Anderson Cooper and Andy Cohen graced the gigantic television screen in the living room. Everyone who was oh so casually buzzed, joins in obnoxiously.

5…you turn and meet with those emerald eyes, those eyes that caught your attention that fateful November day

4…the butterflies begin to swirl, or maybe it’s the alcohol

3…eren’s beautiful smile entrances you as he takes a step forward

2…a loose strand of hair falls from underneath the beanie that dawns his head

1…his soft pink lips trap in between yours as the party erupts with joy

What a way to ring in the New Year.

June 7th, 2024

8 months since you met your other half, or so you thought. Everything happened so quickly, and maybe that’s why you both were reaching a slow burn now. It’s been weeks since he last grazed your skin. Weeks since you last felt his lips passionately overlapping yours. Now whenever he returns home, it’s nothing but a small exchange of,

“Not tonight love, I’m headed to bed. Work has been exhausting.”

The sudden disruption in your relationship was all too familiar. You dealt with this once before. He wouldn’t cheat right? Eren was one of the chairmen for a well-known party company, and it was summer which was the peak for their business. You sigh as you pour a glass of wine and linger around the living room for a moment, contemplating what your next move should be. Grabbing your phone, you shoot a text to Eren’s sister, who you’ve only communicated with via. FaceTime calls and texts.

Y/N: SOS

Mikasa: What’s going on? Just woke up

You forgot about the time gap that filled in between New York & Tokyo. Did you really want to bug Mikasa so early on in her day with this bullshit? Yes. Yes you did.

Y/N: Eren’s been acting off recently Mikasa: Explain further Y/N: He hasn’t really, done much with me in weeks. I’m not really a priority for him anymore. It’s strange how distant he’s become. Mikasa: Hmm…if it gives you peace of mind, maybe talk to him?  Y/N: Alright, I’ll keep you updated xo

Did you truly want to talk to him? Of course, but you couldn’t shake off the gnawing feeling that was telling you to look through his phone. That was the one thing that would give you peace of mind. So that’s exactly what you decided to do. Eren’s light snores filled the shared bedroom that you once held countless passionate nights in for the past two months. Tip toeing ever so gently, you swipe his phone from the nightstand before returning to the living room.

❛The hardest pill to swallow,

Is knowing that tomorrow you’re not mine❜

Your blood runs cold as a singular tear leaves a trail of moisture and warmth down your cheek before nestling in between your quivering lips. There was another woman. You instantly knew you couldn’t compete. You shouldn’t have to. If he truly loved you, he wouldn’t go astray. Not like this. Her bare breasts graced the screen, along with her toothy smile, in one of the many pictures that were exchanged between them. Who was she? A co-worker? The stereotypical secretary sleeping around for a better position? 

❛If I don’t get to have you,

Thank God our matching tattoos last for life❜

You glance down at your marked arm. In a whirlwind and drunken night out with Eren, you both decided to get matching tattoos. You remember the shocked expression that took over his face as you slurred the words ‘Let’s get tattoos’, but he agreed nonetheless. You both laughed and ran through the crowded nighttime streets of New York and headed into the tattoo parlor. As cheesy as it was, the tiny heart appears to taunt you as regret instantly clouds your mind. You knew that this wasn’t worth fighting for. What happened to him. The promise he made you. Why did he do this.

You continue to torture yourself as you scroll through more of their steamy message exchanges. The living room light emitting a faint buzzing sound as your salty tears gently tap onto the phone screen.

❛I know I can’t help,

If you meet someone else❜

Life was full of surprises. This being one of them. Although unpleasant, you knew you couldn’t control his emotions, as much as you had wanted to. The mascara dries along your reddened cheeks as you pour another glass of wine.

❛You can take her home,

She can get you high❜

You suddenly heard the heavy patter of feet behind you as you saw a picture of the two casually smoking together, Eren’s arms wrapped around the mystery girls waist with smiles plastered across their faces.

You knew Eren smoked every once in a while to help with his anxiety, and you could only assume that the two were at a party as a purple hue dawned their joyous faces.

“Y/N what are you doi-,” Eren stops dead in his tracks, hair messily displayed as he awakens from his slumber. He was caught. Red fucking handed. The tension could easily be cut with a knife as no words are spoken between the two of you. You can’t even look him in the eye as he takes a seat next to you. The fucking audacity of this man. “Listen, I can explain,” You tune him out, hearing nothing but muffled noise. You were in a daze.

❛You can hold her heart,

Even after you broke mine❜

The next few weeks were filled with Eren trying to win you over once again, only for him to be met with cold responses. Your friends were in the midst of trying to get you out of there. Why did your lovestruck ass have to sign a lease with him so quickly? Well, that’s all in the past now. If he wanted her, he can have her.

A bouquet of roses? You threw them in the trash.

A reservation to your favorite restaraunt? You didn’t bother to show.

Bringing back the daily routine you once had of him giving you a kiss and twirling you when he comes home from work? Eh, I don’t think so.

❛You can tell her that you love her,

As long as it’s a lie❜

The night when you first found everything on his phone, you saw the exchanges of ‘I love you’s’ between the pair, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. You prayed silently it was just the lust talking, and he didn’t truly love her. But what difference would it make? The damage had already been done.

Eren was broken. He felt like his world came crashing down right before his very eyes. His heart shattered inch by inch with each attempt proving to be a failure in his aim to win you back. 

July 2nd, 2024

Eren was speechless to come home with you nowhere in sight, was this just a bad dream? No. It couldn’t be. You had left. No goodbye, no note. Nothing. The apartment was cold & empty. He knew he lost you for good now. Was a quick fuck worth losing someone this important to him? His once green and dazzling eyes were now dark and gloomy, tears threatening to spill out at any given moment.

Your heart was broken in two as you sat in your new apartment, nestled in the heart of Manhattan. You wanted so badly to text Eren, but you knew in your heart, that you deserved better. Much better. Your phone vibrates beneath you.

"Shit." You hiss, forgetting to block his number.

Eren: Please, can we talk?

#angst #breakup #cheating #eren x reader #aot x reader #eren yaeger x reader #songfic #oneshot #eren yaeger imagine #eren yeager #fanfiction #eren jaeger #sad #eren x y/n #eren x you #eren

[twojackals]

It's the small things

With Hanukkah coming up quickly, and the war raging on in Palestine, it's time to take a moment to talk about the JNF.

The Jewish National Fund was established in 1901 to purchase land for Jewish settlement and is heavily responsible for the settler-colonialism that has been displacing and destroying Palestine for decades. Through their efforts, the JNF solicits money to fund further settlement actions.

Some fundraising efforts include their "plant a tree in Israel" program, which is in some cases planting trees to cover up areas that were once Palestinian communities, including in the West Bank, which is most certainly not Israel. Other fundraising efforts include selling various Judaica, including ritual candles, which circulates funds back into further settler efforts that directly displace Palestinians out of their homes.

Many larger brands of Judaica products, including popular ritual items like candles for Hanukkah, may donate a portion of product sales back to the JNF. When purchasing candles for Hanukkah, you can help save Palestinian lives by checking boxes and packaging for the JNF logo (and avoiding), researching the company you are purchasing from to ensure they are not siphoning money back to the JNF, and choosing companies who are actively working towards prevention of further destruction of the Palestinian peoples and their land.

The celebration of one beautiful culture should not directly feed into the destruction and oppression of another equally-beautiful culture.

Be part of the solution, even if it is small.

-----------

This post was inspired by Vile Crocodile on Tumblr and "8 Hanukkah candle brands that don’t support the JNF" (be aware this list is 8 years old now so I don't know if all of those companies still exist in the same capacity as they once did, always do your research).

I wanted to repost the content but with a few of my own words.

#palestine #israel #jewish #judaism #holiday #winter #religion #spirituality #Gaza #West Bank #genocide #colonialism

[hedwig221b]

20 questions for fic writers!

Thank you for tagging me @thotpuppy! I'm reading everybody's answers, it's so fun!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

46. Though only 14 of them in English.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

582,115 holy shit

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Teen Wolf. I've translated for Sherlock before, though.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. The Happiest of All (Sterek, Explicit, 32,5k, ER, Angst, Miscommunication, Stiles runs away from Derek thinking it's for the best. He's wrong) 2. Untouchable (Sterek, Explicit, 17,1k, ABO, Univesity!AU, Courting, Stiles is the new hot omega, bad boy!Derek is the only one allowed to get close) 3. Safe (Sterek, Not Rated, 974, ER, TW Movie Fix-it.) 4. Wait For Me (Sterek, Mature, 64,6k, Spark!Stiles, Cursed sterek, very soft and desperate, forever love) 5. Treasure (Sterek, Explicit, 71,2k, Historical AU, Courting, Heavy Angst, Derek saves Stiles and baby Eli from gold-digging suitors in the most feral and tender way possible)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I answer each and every one, except for emojis. I also stopped responding to comments on Safe because it exploded so quickly and there was an avalanche of comments and I got anxious and I'm still overwhelmed SORRY

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I cannot decide between Wait For Me and Treasure. In both Stiles loses people, willingly or not, and it's devastating that this is something he will have to live with. But both have happy endings, don't worry.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Lmao, it's pwp Devoured (Sterek, Explicit, 5,2k, Sex God!Derek, Human Sacrifice!Stiles). I mean, Stiles is getting fucked by Derek in front of the dozens of deities, and everyone is jealous of them.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, people have been very nice to me. Some people don't like how soft my Stiles is but it's whatever. However, I anticipate the hate from a certain character defense squad for the fic that's coming out in November. I hope they'll never find it.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yep. It's porn with feelings. And they MUST hold hands. Stiles moans and whimpers and Derek has a filthy mouth. Both are feral sluts for each other. Also monsterfucking. It's Derek Hale's fault, don't look at me, look at his tiddies

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No, and, please, don't start

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. Though, I, myself, translated a lot of fics. It's a unique and wonderful experience. I don't think authors realize how deep into their heads we crawl, how we dissect every paragraph, every sentence, how much we immerse ourselves to convey what the author was trying to say. Some fics I banged my head over, they were so hard to translate. Others were so easy and wonderful, it was a joy to work with them. Yes, the last one was Waiting by isthatbloodonhisshirt. I fucking loved working on it so much.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, and I don't see myself doing so.

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

STEREK

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Listen. Mutual pining!Sterek, established!Cordia. In order to save the pack from the Monster of the Week, Stiles and Lydia have to work together to defeat it, and they cannot tell anybody what they're doing bc the pack will die if they do. Naturally, the cheating rumors start. Cora is furious, Derek is devastated. Stiles and Lydia see how much it hurts their loved ones, but they would rather have them heartbroken than dead. Only when Stiles kisses Derek goodbye before going to die for his pack, do they realize that something's amiss. It's so angsty and so epic and I've had this idea for over a year.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Purple prose. Conveying emotions. ANGST. I will make it my life mission to make my readers cry.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes (including smut because sex is an action scene). Sentences have to be quick, short, with lots of verbs and not a lot of time for emotions. I am not made for that! I try, though, I'm learning, HOLD ON. I also take a long time preparing for super emotional scenes, I just sit there and stare at the monitor and breathe anxiously.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Not a full dialogue, but small words like endearments HELL YES! I had an absolute blast with Treasure, having Stiles call Eli cute pet names in Polish. I feel somewhat comfortable with including Polish, bc my native language has the same/similar roots (?), so I understand when the Google Translate is spewing bullshit at me. I'd love Derek to speak more Spanish, but I know that GT is shit, so I have to stay away. Believe me, I know what it's like to read something in your native language and cringe bc of how wrong it is.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Sigh. Sherlock. I translated a fic and it ended up being an overnight hit and it's still the most popular Johnlock fic I've ever translated. The first fic I wrote myself was for Teen Wolf, Sterek. I would probably die from cringe if I looked at it now.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

Treasure MY BABY MY LOVE MY FAVORITE CHILD ugh I'm so proud of it, of Stiles, of Eli and Derek in it. It's incredibly raw. I'm also currently writing a fic that's going to come very close to being my favourite. Maybe, even surpass Treasure. But now, I can say with all my heart that Treasure is my best work. Second is The Happiest of All.

This has been insightful and fun. Not tagging anyone, feeling shy, if you want you can steal the questions (hidden below)

20 questions for fic writers!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

8. Do you get hate on fics?

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

14. What’s your all time favourite ship?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

16. What are your writing strengths?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

19. First fandom you wrote for?

20. Favourite fic you’ve written?

#tag game #writing #fic writing #my fics #sterek #ao3 fanfic #sterek fandom