#Because despite being the best thing in the entire fucking company by a country mile - AEW simply WILL NOT put a fucking belt on him

[whysamwhy123]

*surveys the landscape of Revolution and sighs deeply*

#aew lb #OC's gonna lose to the unfunny neckbrace meme guy #Because they have to try and make him feel like a threat again after spending months treating him like a complete joke #And to give Glassman Adam Cole and his merry band of midcarders something to do while MJF recovers #DG's gonna lose to - and probably join - Christian and his stupid faction #And the blackhole of awful booking that is the TNT championship picture will claim another victim #And because GOD FORBID Christian or Edge put over any young talent. Why that would be ridiculous! That's not what wrestling is about! #And perhaps worst of all #Swerve is gonna lose the world championship match #Confirming my suspicions that the only reason they reignited the Swerve/Hangman feud so soon after it ended #Was so that they could give Swerve a title match...and have Hangman take the pin #Because despite being the best thing in the entire fucking company by a country mile - AEW simply WILL NOT put a fucking belt on him #I mean why would they? They have a cavalcade of 50-year-old WWE guys and New Japan cast-offs they'd rather push instead 🙂🙂🙂 #So all he's gonna do is meander around the title picture without ever getting a singles championship run of his own #And this all SUUUUUUUUUUUCKS #Just UGGGGGGGGGH #Bad booking. Booking bad. #I would fucking looooooove to be proven wrong on all counts here #Or at the very least I hope I'm wrong about Swerve #Because if not...I might just be done with AEW entirely #Not even Mercedes showing up will keep me invested because why should I have any faith that they won't book her like shit too? #When all I have is evidence to the contrary? #Obligatory 'this is just my opinion and it's cool if you feel differently about any or all of this' #But...I cannot understand how y'all are enjoying AEW anymore. It's been TRASH for soooo long now this shit is DIRE. #And my patience has been thoroughly worn through

[iamjungkooked]

Until My Last Breath

↳Pairing: Jungkook x female reader

↳Genre: Smut (mild), Romance, Angst

↳Word count: 13.4k

↳Warnings: swearing, mild oral sex (f receiving), way too much making out, grinding (sort of?), mention of death. More than all of this Jeongguk is just fucking delicious in this fic (that’s the biggest warning i can give you)

↳Rating: 18+ (Don’t read if you are underage)

↳AU: werewolf! Jungkook + human OC

↳Summary: Sporting an undercut and tattoos Jeon Jungkook waltzes back in your life after 5 years of being away. You think you know him– and just when you think you have gotten close, he reveals a secret (or two). Following this, is a series of trials and tribulations that concludes in a way you never expect.

(Alternatively: the one where Jungkook creates a mess out of you)

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Your hands hurt from holding the grocery bags. Mrs. Jeon did offer her help but you refused because she has so much to do. If anything Jimin should have accompanied you considering that he’s always going on about how he’d marry you if he could.

Alas, he wasn’t there either because being the beta of the pack meant he had to run morning training and education with the younger children since Jungkook wasn’t there. Generally this was something the alpha of the pack would do-- but Mr. Jeon was busy with the politics of the werewolf and human world. Had Jungkook been here he would have been running the session seeing as he is next in line to be alpha of the pack. But he was miles away on the other side of the country. He has been for five years and truth be told you can’t even remember what his face looks like anymore.

With thoughts such as that the only accompaniment, you march along with as much energy you can muster at each step. The house comes into view. Once again with no other company but your own to entertain yourself you take a drip down memory lane. You remember the awe you first felt when Mr. Jeon brought you to the house. Your father had just passed away while on a drug raid. Mr. Jeon being his best friend brought you with him.

In the early days, the entire family tried to hide their secret. But then on a full moon, you curiously followed Jungkook out and watched as he transformed from man into a beast. Initially, you wanted to scream with horror, but the air got stuck in your throat when he began approaching you. Rooted to the spot and with no escape, Jungkook-- rather his wolf form nuzzled his nose against your neck and whimpered. The fear was gone just like that. All night long, you accompanied him, roaming the forest behind the house getting into all sorts of trouble. When the effect of the full moon began to fade during the early hours of the morning you remember sneaking back into the house and rummaging through his room to get him clothes for when he transformed back.

You kick the giant black gate open and walk down the cemented pathway flanked on either side by lawns outlined with a variety of flowers. To your left was the gazebo that Mr. Jeon built when you were sixteen as a birthday present because that happened to be your obsession at the time.

As the foyer nears, you see a huge commotion outside. It seemed everyone and their mother was present. With urgency in your steps only worsened by curiosity, you reach in no time. You stand on your tiptoes to get a view of what was happening, however, the five grocery bags in your hands weigh you down.

Momentarily the crowd parts. You see the outline of a face that isn’t recognizable-- the hoodie covering half the profile.

“What is going on?” you gather the courage to speak loudly against the chatter of the crowd.

It is loud enough to get the talking to stop and everyone turns to you, including the mysterious stranger.

He pulls his hoodie down.

The grocery bags drop from your hands, just as your mouth hangs open.

“Jungkook is back!” one of the kids tugs at your arm in excitement.

Well shit. You never could have recognized him even if someone planted his younger version of right next to him. He is probably just shy of 6 feet tall. Although engulfed in a black crewneck, you could tell he was built. His dark wash ripped blue jeans contour his thighs to perfection and just when you think he couldn’t have changed further you notice his hair. He had gone off and gotten himself an undercut. His hair was on the longer side, and it was parted to the left of his head while the undercut was visible on the right. He had even gone so far as to get tattoos that adorned his fingers, and his forearm-- a music note. Well now you were fucked because how could you ever resist a man with that kind of hairstyle and tattoos.

Correction, how could you resist a fucking werewolf who wears an undercut and has tattoos?

“Y/n?” he speaks and you swear you could have heard angels speaking to you.

You keep mum. In fact, you can’t even hear him. You’re too busy undressing him with your eyes. Your heart pounds, your knees feel weak because this man is simply too gorgeous to exist. How the hell is everyone else standing on their two feet while you feel like you’re going to fall any moment?

You say something. You have no idea what exactly because your ears are ringing, but you know something comes out of your mouth which causes everyone around you to giggle. You might as well just turn around and go hide somewhere because you’ve probably made a fool of yourself.

“Huh” comes his deep voice, but it’s faint. His remark only makes you wonder what you spat out.

“It’s hot” you fan yourself with your hand. Your mouth is parched, dry like the desert. “You--  Wow. You look--nice to--- welcome. I mean, g-good— to” you look at him, and pause to collect your thoughts. “Good to have you back. I think...” you are completely breathless and dazed by the end of that word salad. Your forehead scrunches in a frown as you try to shake away the magic spell his presence has cast on you. You don’t even bother to wait for a response as you run back down the pathway you came. You follow it out of the gate and turn the corner. A few paces up the hill you come upon the gated entrance to the forest.

You hear someone calling you out, but you’re a damn mess. You aren’t willing to let anyone see you like that. You run as far into the forest as your legs will carry you-- far, far, away from him.

You can finally understand the phrase “avoid like the plague” because that’s what you have been doing to Jungkook. For the past four days since he has been back, you have done anything and everything you can to avoid him. If you see him in the house, you immediately make a u-turn for your room. If you see him outside, you hide behind anything you can find-- a pillar, a bush, a tree, a car, another fucking human being.

Of course it doesn’t help that everyone tries to keep pushing you to him. Well, mostly his parents. But also random people like the ladies in Mrs. Jeon’s book club who on Saturday made a spectacle out of you.

“Come on, pose for a photo” they had said when they saw you and Jungkook out and about the house. You weren’t even looking at one another when they swarmed you and him, taking you by the arm and making you stand next to one another. They didn’t even ask nicely-- no. They demanded that you and Jungkook take a photo because apparently you two look amazing together. Despite your protests, and vigorous head shaking-- they basically pushed you to him, and thankfully he managed to steady you on your feet by catching your waist.

His arm around your waist as he holds you flush against him and your hand on his forearm while you two looked at one another-- that’s the picture they took. You may as well have just gotten a whole fucking photoshoot done while you were at it.

“Y/n’s probably always had a crush on him” one of the ladies, Mrs. Ri had mentioned while all the others including Mrs Jeon crowded around to look at the picture on the camera.

A tomato couldn’t be more red than you and that's saying something. All Jungkook did in response was shrug at you like he was enjoying it. Normally a man might object to being treated this way. But he didn’t utter a single word. Only he looked quite amused by the whole situation and your reaction as he smiled and chuckled to himself.

On the other hand, his parents always mentioned in his absence that they would love if you and him got together. You never paid any mind to those conversations in particular because it was Jungkook— atleast how you remembered him before he became a fucking Adonis. Not that it’s the only thing that matters. But you just never felt this way before, and now you do.

You tiptoe through the house while everyone is busy at this time of day. Mrs.Jeon is probably with all the other ladies for their book club, Mr.Jeon no doubt is in his study and Jimin is probably with Jungkook, training.

It sucks to be the only human sometimes because they can always hear you, and know what you’re thinking. But you can’t do the same. It makes you feel vulnerable. But everyone is good at reminding you about how lucky you are to be human.

You traipse through the living room, peeking behind from walls here and there to make sure Jungkook isn’t around because if you see him you’re sure you’ll lose your shit. Again.

There is a certain chunk of the wooden floor that creaks under pressure so you take care to avoid it. Because in case Jungkook is anywhere inside the house he’ll hear it.

Creak

“Fuck” you mutter, shutting your eyes tight and carefully lifting your toes from the damned spot which makes another sound.

You hear footsteps on the stairs behind you. Too scared to move, you straighten up.

“I was wondering when I’ll see you again” comes Jungkook’s voice.

“Heeeyyy” you turn around, plastering a smile on your face and it screams fake.

“Four days huh. Good job” Jungkook looks impressed as he comes down to ahalt at the last step . “How did you manage to avoid me for four whole days? I am curious”

“You knew”

“Of course I knew” he’s mouth moves as he chews gum, one brow raised at you, looking absolutely devilish (in the best way possible). “Too bad the streak has come to end” he places his hands in pockets lining his black sweats.

Well fuck. No point in denying it anymore then.

“If it wasn’t for this stupid floor I could have gone the whole week. Probably” you decide to give in instead of pretending you have no idea what he’s talking about.

He steps towards you, one corner of his mouth curved up in a sly smirk. “That would never happen. You’d have made a mistake at some point before that”

“Maybe” you shrug. You’re so surprised that you’re able to find your words this time. “Welcome back by the way” you offer a genuine smile, trying to make up for that botched attempt when he first arrived.

“Thanks. It’s good to be back” he sighs contentedly. “I missed this place and the people.” he looks around and then his gaze comes to rest on you. “Well, one person in particular” he looks you straight in the eyes.

“Your mom” you reply. He loves his mother.

“Yes. But also someone else”

“Who?” curiosity gets the best of you.

“Just someone” he shrugs.

You’re about to respond when Jimin comes in. “What are you two doing here?” he looks at Jungkook as he stops next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

Wordlessly, Jungkook’s eyes change color from his hazel brown to icy blue. He steps towards you and Jimin, and then pulls Jimin’s hand away from your shoulder. He looks at the boy, jaw grinding as he chews gum. “Can I talk to you for a sec?” his voice is calm, but his eyes are absolutely terrifying since they harbour a cold, mean look. They change back to brown in an instant once Jimin nods. You notice how tense Jimin looks but he walks with Jungkook anyway.  

They’re probably only gone for thirty seconds. But when they come back their body language is completely relaxed. They look like two pals reunited after years.

“Everything okay?” you ask Jimin.

“Yeah. All good” he nods. “I was just congratulating him”

“What for?” you look between the two of them, feeling awfully suspicious.

Jimin is about to open his mouth when he catches Jungkook’s gaze. Jungkook shakes his head and you notice, at which point you turn to him. “Fine. I don’t want to know” you huff. You start towards the back door which leads to the backyard where Mrs. Jeon is with her friends.

Just a couple steps in, you’re tugged back. You turn around to find Jungkook holding onto your wrist. There is something about the way he looks at you. You’ve seen this look before in movies—it’s the way the hero looks at the heroine when he thinks she isn’t looking. It’s soft, but it’s wanting-- a complete contrast from the way he glared the life out of Jimin just minutes ago. He looks like he’s got something to say, but he’s holding back.

“What is it?” your voice is quiet, like you’re too scared to speak out. As if your voice will give away the crazy whirlwind of emotions in your chest.

“Nothing” he blinks and lets go of your wrist. “See ya around” he turns on his heels and walks the other way as Jimin follows him.

The woods at this time of the night are majestic. Moonlight bathes the tops of trees in a silver glow. The moonlight filters through gaps in tree branches, and covers the ground in a white sheen. It looks nothing short of magical.There is a slight chill in the wind, but it’s nothing you aren’t used to. The fallen leaves crunch under your feet. Sounds of crickets chirping, owls hooting fills the air.

You walk through the pathway bordered on each side by large trees the branches of which meet in the middle above you, forming an archway. You feel safe in the womb of nature like you’re protected and nothing could touch you. Without fear, it’s easier for you to take in everything. The air you breathe feels fresh, and crisp. If you could, you would make time stop so you could stay in the woods at night and never have to leave.

As each step carries you further into the woods, you feel more and more at peace. The trees become more lush the further you go. The animals are more noticeable deep into the forest. You see squirrels running around the trees, there are bird nests high up in the branches. You can hear mockingjays in these parts of the forest too.

You stop by the clearing in the woods. This side of the woods is your favorite. You sit against the trunk of one of the trees, resting your head. You look at nothing in particular in the sky. It’s clear above you, with a full moon shining. Your mind immediately goes back to Jungkook as you gaze upon it. You feel tortured every time your thoughts turn to him. You don’t know if it’s normal for you to want to cry, but you’re already shedding tears. Your quiet sobs accompany the sounds of nature. The weight seems to be lifting off your shoulders, and it feels easier to breathe. But then you think of him and that someone he mentioned. It causes you to sob even harder. You hiccup, using the back of your hands to wipe away the tears.

“What’s wrong?”

You can’t forget that voice. You look up at Jungkook as he stands with his hands in his jean pockets.

You shake your head. “Nothing. I just-- I miss--” you begin to cry again. “I-I miss my dad” another sob escapes your throat.

“Can I give you a hug?” he asks in a soft voice, which makes you want to cry even harder. “Please”

You nod.

He comes over, sits down next to you and gathers you in his arms. He pulls you into himself, wrapping your arm around his side, as he holds you. You place your cheek against his chest as you hold him close. It may have started because of him, but it continues because you do miss your dad. The moment you said “dad” was when you knew you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

“I am sorry y/n” he strokes the back of your head. “I really am” he sniffles.

You pull back to find tears staining his cheeks. “Why are you crying?” you look up at him.

His gaze is locked onto yours. “Because, I can feel what you feel”

“Sorry. I forgot you’re a werewolf” you shift back on your spot, forcing his arm to fall from your shoulder.

He opens his mouth to say something but then closes it. He looks at you a few seconds longer. “Yeah. That’s it” he says, blinking and a lone tear escapes. Your fingers twitch at your side, needing to wipe it away. But it might be too weird so you let your fingers curl into a fist.

“Thank you for doing this” your mouth curves in a soft smile. “How did you find me here?”

“I’ve seen you in the woods for the past four nights. I didn’t know who it was at first because I only saw a flash of your hair, or your shoes. But today I followed you and it’s good I did because pretty girls like you shouldn’t be crying alone”

You snort. “Right. Pretty girls like me”

He raises a brow. “You don’t believe me?”

“I believe you. I just don’t believe your words”

“Then tell me what I can do to make you believe me” he states. You’re sure he isn’t serious but one look at him tells you he means every single word.

“Jungkook, it’s alright. You don’t have to do anything” you shake your head. But then it strikes you. “Although there is something…”

“Anything” the corners of his mouth upturned in a soft smile-- one that made your heart skip a beat (or ten maybe).

“I want to see your wolf form” you look at him tentatively, wondering if he’ll turn you down, or maybe even shout at you for making a request. Asking a werewolf to show their wolf is a sacred request and not something that should be asked lightly. You know how important their wolf form is to them. It’s like talking about sex among humans, but much more of a touchy subject.

“That’s it?” his eyebrows are furrowed together at the miniscule nature of your request.

“So you’ll show me? Can you do it on your own will?” your hands clasp in front of your chest in anticipation.

A laugh bellows from his chest. “Of course. I’ll show you” he stands up, dusts his hands, and the back of his jeans. “You may want to close your eyes because I need my clothes for later”

Without needing to be told in exact terms, you close your eyes and cover them with your hands for good measure. You can hear sounds of feet shuffling, a belt unbuckling and soft thuds—probably his clothes dropping ctx dagainst the soil.

“I’ll count to five and then open. One, Two, Three, Four, Five”

You give it a few more seconds just in case before you’re uncovering your eyes. Standing in front of you is a majestic white wolf, with icy blue eyes-- Jungkook’s eyes. Your mouth falls open, your mind unable to come up with words. You cautiously step towards him, hand reaching out wanting to touch him. He meets you halfway, nuzzling his nose against your hand. You laugh.

“You’re beautiful Jungkook” you whisper as you stroke the fur, which is softer than velvet against your hand.

The wolf whimpers in response.

“What can you do as a wolf? Any tricks?” you ask, forgetting that he’s not a dog.

He growls, baring his teeth.

You throw your hands up. “Geez. Sorry. I was just curious” you reach for his muzzle as you continue stroking gently to help him calm down.

He steps back, turns around and starts further into the forest.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

He whimpers and motions beyond the clearing with his head. You start to follow, when you remember his clothes and grab them. He’s already a few paces ahead of you. It seems that even his wolf isn’t patient.

“Slow down will you?” you yell as you run to try and catch up. He doesn’t listen though as he continues on.

You’re breathless by the time you reach a beautiful meadow full of wildflowers and fallen timber. Flowing right next to the meadow is a stream littered with little stones and large rocks alike. Moonlight shines through the cracks between tree branches above you. The air is cooler than you have ever experienced in this part of the woods. The grass is lush and soft beneath your feet unlike the rest of the forest which is mostly soil. You don’t know how you never came upon this place on your walks. But then again Jungkook probably knows the forest best.

He is stopped at the edge of the stream. You drop the pile of his clothes on a log, and walk towards the stream. You crouch and place your hand in the running stream. The icy cold water sends shivers down your body. You flick some of the water on him, at which point he growls at you again.

“This is fun” you chuckle as you get up.

He whimpers as he tackles you to the ground, and nuzzles his nose in your neck.

“It tickles, it tickles, it tickles” you laugh as you try to push him away. You doubt you could have pushed him away in his human form but as a wolf it’s impossible. You rub your hand against his fur. He mewls and falls on his back next to you and you rub his underbelly. He loves it as he continues to make these cute noises and all you want to do is hug him.

A twig snaps somewhere in the distance. Jungkook jumps up to his feet, growling, teeth showing as he paces in front of you looking in the direction of the sound. He continues to snarl and growl, pacing increasing in speed. He looks ready to kill. You abandon your perch on the grass in favor of standing up. You tread towards him. At this point you’re more scared of what he’s doing rather than where the sound came from. You reach him, stopping by his side. You look at him— at those blue eyes of his, and take a step forward but he’s quick to nudge you back with his head.

“It’s alright” you reassure him as you caress the top of his head.

You try once more to step beyond where he’s standing but he gives another push and you tumble back slightly. He snarls at you as he looks back at you over his shoulder, warning you to stay in your place. He turns back to inspect the woods, pacing from side to side.

“Alright. Fine” you give up. “But please don’t do anything. It could just an animal like a squirrel or something”

Ears perked up, he stands towering in front of you.

“I don’t think it was anything” you stay in your spot, as you place your hand on his flank.

He holds up his nose, moving his head in every direction like he’s trying to smell something out. He starts stepping back, his rump hitting you as he does. He turns around, leaning his muzzle against your shoulder, like he’s trying to comfort you and find comfort in you.

“It’s okay” you whisper, skimming his fur. “We’re fine” you wrap your arm around his neck.

He lets out a small cry as he snuggles into you.

“I brought your clothes by the way” you let go of him and he steps back. “I think it’s best if we go home. It’s already 1”

He steps back a few paces and disappears behind a tree while you turn around and wait for him.

“Give me a sign whenever you’re done” you call out. You wait and wait for what seems like ten minutes but is really only a minute or two.

He clears his throat. “I am good.” he says.

You turn around to face him. You really missed seeing his face-- in the human form. He was majestic in his wolf form, but there is something about the human side of him that you can’t get over. In all honesty, he’s a sight to behold.  

“So, what did you think?” he rubs his hands together in anticipation.

“You’re amazing” you meet him halfway. “I’ve seen almost everyone’s wolf form. But yours is breathtaking”

He chuckles. “Thank you. I am sure he’s happy to hear it too” he closes the distance. He reaches for your hand, curling his fingers around your palm. It’s the warmest feeling you have ever felt.

You open your mouth to protest but he’s already cutting you off.

“I am not letting go, until we’re out of these woods.” he tugs on your hand as he turns around and begins towards the house.

“Thank you. It is sweet of you to protect me”

“It’s my job to protect you. I will always be there when you need me” he squeezes your hand in reassurance.

It’s nice to know that you have someone in your corner. “I wish I could say the same. But you don’t need me to protect you”

He nods. “You’re right. But if I ever need a hug, I know who to come to”

Little does he know that you are ready to give him the whole wide world. “Anytime”

Your eyes lock for a few seconds and both of you burst into grins.

Walking in the forest by yourself is always peaceful. But walking in these woods hand in hand with Jungkook is euphoric.

A pang of dread fills your chest when Jungkook ignores you.

Just when you thought things were going good, he distanced himself. You don’t know what went wrong in the days following the night in the woods. But he was avoiding you. It wouldn’t have felt so bad were it not for the fact that the way he ignored you was cold. It wasn’t like you where it was more benign in nature and it was clear that you were avoiding him for fear of embarrassing yourself. He knew that too. But with him it’s something else

He wouldn’t even look at you. A frown seemed to have permanently settled on his face. He was never present anymore. He was always lost in thought with an inscrutable look in his eyes. If you showed up where he was, he’d leave wordlessly. If you tried to talk to him he’d act like he couldn’t even hear you and that would be followed by his departure. And when he did look at you-- the only way to interpret the expression in his eyes was: resentment. You had no idea why he was doing that.

So as the whole family, including Jimin was sitting in the backyard under the canopy for breakfast, Jungkook made to leave just as you were approaching to join them. But his mother made him sit back down.

��Jungkook, you’re not going to leave” her tone is stern.

He rolls his eyes with a huff as he sits back down.

“What’s wrong with you dude?” Jimin leans in, thinking he’s whispering but his voice is a tad bit louder than that.

Even you can hear him just as you are a few steps away.

“Nothing” his voice is devoid of emotion. He leans back in his chair, sliding down against the back like he just wants to disappear. He fiddles with his fingers.

“Hi everyone” you offer a tight lipped smile. Everyone except for Jungkook replies. “Hi Jungkook” you say after not being met with a response.

He stays silent, holding the same sulked posture as before, not even acknowledging your presence.

You catch Jimin’s eyes. He gestures with his head to Jungkook as if to ask ‘what’s up’. You shrug because you have no clue what has gotten into him. You take the empty chair next to Jungkook and you can see him shifting in his chair uncomfortably. Your heart sinks in your chest, but you dismiss it. You look over at Jimin sitting on the opposite side of the table. He looks between you and Jungkook and you just know he’s thinking something. You both look at each other-- a silent conversation ensuing.

“Oh no. I forgot the cutlery” Mrs. Jeon jumps suddenly. She gets up when you interrupt.

“It’s okay. I can grab it” you gesture for her to sit down. “Do you want that special set?” you smile at her.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve all been together like this. I think it’s time we use it. This is a special occasion. The box is in the attic. Will you be okay?”

“It’s okay. I got it”  you put her concern to rest with a grin.

You glance at Jungkook who still hasn’t moved an inch as he is still playing with his fingers and ignoring everyone around him. You make way inside the house, and up the stairs to the second floor. The entrance to the attic is on the second floor. You turn right on the landing, moving towards your room and at the end of the hallway. You pull the rope which unfolds the ladder. It comes down, you climb it and reach the musty room.

It’s full of boxes. You rummage through them to find the one labeled cutlery. The box is quite heavy, but you manage to climb down with it safely. You push the ladder back up, and the door closes blending in with the rest of the ceiling. You carry the box down the first two flights of stairs, slightly shaking because of how heavy it is.

You lose your footing at the beginning of the third set of stairs and down you go five stairs. The box slips from your hand. A scream rips through the air. You manage not to hit your head. But your ankle twists during the fall. You’re laying on your side attempting to get up when everyone rushes into the room.

Jungkook is the first one to arrive. “Are you okay?” he helps you sit up and you wince.

It hurts so damn much, you can’t stop yourself from crying. “I- I am” you grimace. “I am fine” you croak through a strained voice, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“No. You’re not” he cups your cheeks to make you look at him. He inspects your head for injuries. “You’re not fucking fine” he’s pissed as he’s practically at the verge of yelling. “What the fuck were you thinking?” he slides an arm under your back, and the other under your knee as he picks you up off the floor. You lock your hands behind his neck, keeping your gaze cast down. You don’t want to look at him in this condition.“I am taking her to her room” he announces, and no one even gets a word in because he’s already started up the flight of stairs.

You try to contain your cries, but the pain is too sharp especially at your ankle. You can sense him looking down at you.

“What were you trying to do?” he shakes his head. You should have called for help, you idiot”

“Sorry” you snivel still not meeting his eyes. “I was just trying to bring the box down and I lost my footing”

You reach the room, and he kicks the ajar door fully open. Once you’re in, he kicks it close. He gently lays you down on the bed, adjusting the pillow underneath your head.

You wince in pain, wiping away the tears. For the first time you look at him and he’s pacing, like he was in the woods except he’s in his human form. “Where does it hurt?” he sounds concerned but it’s that angry kind of way. There is no softness in his tone, if anything its gruff.

“You don’t have to worry. I am okay”

“Bullshit” he stops and sits at the edge of the bed, as he takes off your shoe and sock to look at your ankle. He touches the ankle bone, and you inhale a sharp breath. “See” he shakes his head like he’s disappointed. “That looks like it’s sprained. You could have asked--”

“You for help?” you complete his sentence, full well knowing that’s what he intended.

His eyes flicker to you, but he doesn’t say anything. He begins to gently feel around your ankle for any other injuries, brows furrowing in concentration.

You watch him, as he continues to look for other wounds,or gashes-- scanning your legs, arms, and face. You can’t understand the sudden shift in his behaviour. “What are you doing?”

He stops to look at you. “What do you mean? I am checking for any other injuries” he says in a blunt tone and resumes inspection.

“That’s not what I mean” you push his hands away from your forearms just as he’s looking over for more bruises. “Why do you suddenly give a shit? What do you care if I live or die”

He opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again and shuts it, grinding his jaw. “I’ll grab ice” he ignores your question and gets up from the bed.

You tug him back by the hem of his sleeve. “I need an answer”

“I don’t have one” he yanks his arm, and the cloth slips from your fingers.

“This is what I am talking about” you bite the inside of your cheek just as he’s approaching the door “One minute you act like you give a crap about me, and the next you act like you wouldn’t blink an eye if I died”

He’s reaching for the doorknob when he turns around. His brown wide eyes stare back at you He scoffs. “I wouldn’t care if you died?” his disbelief reflects in his partly open mouth. Do you---” he covers his face with his hands, taking in deep breaths and letting his hands run through his locks before looking at you. “You have no fucking clue what you’re talking about” he turns around and reaches for the door when there is a knock.

He sighs in frustration. “Who the hell--” he opens the door.

Jimin stands on the other side of the door with an ice pack in his hand, and a bottle of what looks like medicine. Jimin peeks over Jungkook’s shoulder, about to say something. But Jungkook grabs the ice pack and medicine wordlessly and shuts the door in his face.

He walks back and presses the ice pack to your ankle, while holding the tiny bottle out for you.

“I don’t want it” you say sharply, looking to the side.

You hear him huff. “Do I look like I give a shit right now?” he seethes through clenched teeth.

You turn to him. “You know this whole tough guy act doesn’t scare me”

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. If this were a cartoon he would have smoke coming out of his ears. “Just take it”

You study him, your gazes locked on each other. Neither of you even blink. His nostrils are still flaring and you’re still breathing heavily through pursed lips. “I hate you” you snatch the bottle from him and chug the bitter liquid down.

His expression changes for a moment-- the look in his eyes softens. He blinks, casting his gaze down momentarily. But then he’s back to carrying a frown on his face as he looks up at you. “You should. You shouldn’t like me at all” his tone gentler than before, hiding beneath it an infinity of disappointment that you catch.

“Well now I don’t. You damn well made sure of that” you grab the pillow next to you and hide your face behind it.

Seconds later you hear the door slam and that’s when you scream into the pillow.

Your ankle gets better in the next couple of weeks, but your relationship with Jungkook doesn’t. You’re still distant from each other. Still angry at each other. Your silent fight has tensed the atmosphere in the whole house. It’s awkward to say the least. Mr. and Mrs. Jeon skirt around you both, walking on eggshells whenever you are in a room together. Dinners are silent for the most part except for when his parents make conversation about their day.

You both ignore each other. Neither of you even looks in the direction of the other person. If you happen to pass each other in the house, you avoid each other.

Perhaps everyone has had enough-- especially Mrs. Jeon since she broaches the subject at dinner one night.

“Alright” she holds her fingers in a steeple. “What the hell is wrong with you two?”

You and Jungkook glance at each other wary of how she’s speaking because she never swears-- not even use the word ‘hell’.

You both say at the same time. “Nothing”

“Bullshit” she slams her hands on the table.

“Honey” Mr. Jeon looks at her.

She dismisses it. “ No. We’re going to address this”

“Mom” Jungkook looks at her warningly. “Don’t”

“What happened?” she looks at you. “He won’t tell me” she glances at her son from the periphery of her vision. “But I know you will”

“Nothing. I promise” you offer a half hearted smile.

“I wasn’t expecting this from you y/n” she sounds disappointed.

“Mrs. Jeon. I swear to you it’s nothing. Even if there is something we can sort it out amongst ourselves”

“Well that’s just the problem isn’t it. You’re not. You don’t even look at each other”

You avert your gaze sideways.

“Just drop it will you?” Jungkook sounds frustrated. “We’re good” he doesn’t even look sincere in the least bit.

You nod finding purchase in your lap, barely making eye contact with anyone.

“Whatever it is, apologize” she demands. She looks to Jungkook, raising her brows at him expectantly. She waits for him to say something. He avoids looking at her but she is persistent. It’s only for a few seconds but he crumbles under the pressure and mumbles a “sorry”

“Look at her and say it” Mrs. Jeon says curtly.

He looks at you, eyes meeting yours for the first time in weeks.

Something changes in you and once again you feel like crying just because he’s there.

“Sorry” he looks away, folding his arms across his chest and chewing on his lip.

“Well you can tell him Mrs. Jeon that if he isn’t going to mean it, I don’t accept it” you glance at her and then back at your lap, leaning against the chair. 

“You can tell her that this is all she’s getting from me” he looks at his mother too.

“Tell him that he’s the one who started it. So, if he can’t even own up to it there really is no point in talking about it” your cheeks feel warm as you keep your gaze fixed firmly on your lap.

“While you’re at it mom, you can tell her that she shouldn’t be talking about things when she doesn’t know what’s going on” Jungkook rolls his eyes.

Your nostrils flare and so do his. You’re breathing heavily, cheeks red and eyes wide. “Maybe Mrs. Jeon you can remind him that he never actually told me what his problem is” you glare at him.

She looks between the two of you and your both lower your gaze.

Jungkook scoffs, returning an equally contemptuous glare towards you. “I don’t have a problem. It’s not my fault she doesn’t understand I don’t actually want to talk to her”

“Great! you throw your hands in the air and look at his parents. “You can tell him he’s the biggest asshole I have ever met in my entire life and I regret ever feeling anything for him” you slam your hands on the table and storm off.

The breeze is cool as it caresses your face. You sniffle away the tears as they well up in your eyes. The woods seem to be the only thing that can comfort you. You walk down your usual pathway, hugging yourself against the chill. As you look around at the moon bathed trees, they look different to you. But they don’t seem as beautiful to you as they did when you were with Jungkook.

The whole forest feels different.

You reach the clearing once more where he found you. You’re overcome with emotion, and your eyes tear up once again. You choke a sob away. You sit against the same tree, look at the same clear sky blanketed by stars. His voice echoes in your head when he asked if he could give you a hug.

You don’t know what happened to that boy. You don’t know where he went and if he will ever come back. You thought he was a friend. But it turns out he wasn’t. He’s just a stranger that you used to know.

You’re immersed in your thoughts. You look down at your hands, a bittersweet sigh passing your lips.

There is a rustle in the bushes near you and you’re immediately on alert. You slowly stand up trying not to make any sudden movements. You look in the direction of the sound and see two glowing brown eyes staring at you.

Your breath catches in your throat. You don’t straighten up fully, for the fear of aggravating whatever animal it is, so you stay in a partly bent position, hands visible by your side.

The animal steps out from behind the shadows.

It’s a wolf-- a black one. It’s not Jimin because his fur is brown. It sure as hell isn’t Jungkook.

The wolf growls at you. It steps towards you like a predator towards prey.

Full blown panic sets in. You’re frozen on the spot. Your heart beats hard and fast, as if the sound rings in your ears. Is this how you die? Alone in the woods? Your whole life flashes in your mind. Among all of that the only name and face that echoes in your head is Jungkook’s  because you would hate to die and not have a chance to talk to him. That would be the biggest regret of your life.

The wolf is still approaching you, and it’s halfway there. It growls and snarls-- saliva dripping from its mouth.

“Oh please no” you whisper, as your knees begin to buckle.

The wolf takes a leap towards you. But at the end second, you see a white one knocking the black one out mid air. They both fly some distance and fall on the ground.

“Jungkook!” you scream running in his direction.

Those blue eyes look back at you as he gets up on all fours.He keeps growling at the other wolf.. You know better than to interfere, so you stay behind him. Both of them snarl at each other. The other wolf howls, probably to try and intimidate Jungkook. But then he howls-- it’s loud and fierce so much so that you have to close your ears. He then makes a sound that is a mix between a roar and a growl as he steps towards the wolf.

“Jungkook no” you hold your hand out for him but he’s just beyond your reach. He looks back at you. You shake your head. He turns to the other wolf and makes a sound that sounds like a threatening bark.

There is a moment where they both just look at each other. Then the other one whimpers and leaves-- tail between its legs quite literally.  

Your knees give out and you fall on the ground, sobbing and hugging yourself. Your cries fill the air. You sob hard enough to make your whole body shake. You have never felt such fear in your life and not just for yourself. You were more worried for Jungkook.

He comes running to you, fully clothed somehow. He immediately holds you in his arms. He holds you close, chin resting on the top of your head, as you bury your face in his chest, body shaking in his arms. You can’t even breathe  properly-- gasping for air with short shallow breaths.“Jungkook” you whimper, holding onto his shirt.

“I am here” he squeezes tighter. “I am right here. You’re safe”

“I-I” you pull back to look up at him, eyes swollen and red, tears still falling down your face in droves. “I thought you were going to...” you bawl again just at the thought of something happening to him. You hide your face against his chest, wrapping your arms against him so tight, you’re sure he’s having a hard time breathing.

“I am okay. I am not even hurt” he reassures you.

“I was so…” you hiccup. “Worried that--that s-some-something w-would happen to you” you manage to choke out the words.

“Look at me” he holds your face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs. “I am completely okay. I was worried for you. I was scared. I was so so scared” he gazes into your eyes, and you know he’s speaking the truth because he’s beginning to cry too.

You sniffle, trying to control your sobs so you can tell him. “The only thing I could think of was you. I didn’t want to die without talking to you. I was afraid I would never get to talk to you”

“Me too” he croaks. “You didn’t get hurt anywhere did you?” there is panic in his eyes as he suddenly realizes that.

You shake your head. “No. You saved me”

“I told you I’d always protect you didn’t I?” he snivels.

Your lips just in a pout, lips quivering. “How did you know?” you slide your thumbs against his cheeks to wipe the tears.

“I came to the woods to cool off for a bit” he stops to rub the tears from your cheeks as the water works start again. “I was just so pissed, so naturally my wolf took over and I transformed. I was just roaming around, when I could smell you. I followed your scent. I saw the whole thing and trust me, my heart almost stopped. I was waiting for the right moment to intervene and when that wolf jumped at you, I lost it”

“I am sorry I said all those things” you clutch the material of his shirt tighter, looking down.

“No. I started this whole shit and if I hadn’t you wouldn’t have gotten into trouble. I could have lost you tonight and it would have been my fault. I could never forgive myself” he takes your hands in his, curling his fingers in yours. “I am so so sorry”

“So we’re good?” you chuckle.

He doesn’t laugh with you. “Look, if this night has proved anything, it’s that you shouldn’t like me. I told you. Don’t like me. I am not right for you. I am not even good for you. Look at where I landed you tonight” his fingers begin to slip from yours.

“You’re wrong” you hold tight onto his hands.

“I can’t y/n” he avoids your eyes, his shoulders droop. He looks absolutely defeated.

“What’s the reason?” you press on. “Is it someone else?”

“No” he’s quick to shut down that train of thoughts in your head. “There’s no one else. But I can’t. You hold too much power over me. That’s exactly why I can’t”

“I don’t get it. You do all these things for me that no one ever has. Your actions say one thing and your words another. What am I supposed to do Jungkook?”

“Don’t like me. Stay far far away from me” he pulls his hands away from yours. “I’ll take you home”

“Jungkook-”

“I am taking you home” he says firmly, as he lifts you off the ground in his arms.

You hook your hands behind his neck. You let your head rest against the crook of his neck. You let him take you home because you’re too tired to fight. You don’t want to fight with him because you know that you love this man. If the night taught you anything, it was that.

“Y/n we’re going to be leaving” Mrs. Jeon hurriedly comes into the kitchen, opening up cabinets and grabbing food.

“Leaving?” your brows furrowed. “Where?”

“Jungkook’s dad and I have to go to the orphanage in the city for an event. We’ll be back by tonight. But Jungkook is home if you need anything” she packs up a bag full of food, probably for the journey since the drive to the city is 2 hours.

“Wait, you’re both leaving? Jungkook and I are going to be alone…?” your voice trails at the end, having been met with a dreadful realization.

Mrs. Jeon’s nose scrunches as she walks over to you. “Is everything okay?”

You’re too busy worrying so you don’t even hear her.

Mrs. Jeon calls out your name a couple of times before she physically has to shake you. “Y/n, what’s going on?”

You blink rapidly. “Oh nothing. Everything is fine. I just thought he would go with you too”

“We asked him, but he said you’d be alone at home so he’ll stay too”

“He said that?” your eyes widen. You don’t understand his concern.

She nods. “Mmhmm. He also said he will stay just in case you need something while everyone is gone. I would ask you to come too but I didn’t want you to feel bad”

You shake your head. “It’s alright. I’d cry the whole time anyway thinking of my parents” you chuckle. “But you know I can take care of myself”

Mrs. Jeon chuckles. “I know that. But tell Jungkook that because this boy was adamant on not wanting to leave you alone. I don’t understand him” she shakes her head, like any mother aggrieved of her child would. You can’t blame her though. He is a unique specimen.

“Yeah me neither” you purse your lips in a smile.

“Alright. We’ll be off then” she gives you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “If he troubles you, call me right away”

“I will”

She makes haste of leaving, carrying the bag.

You spend a better part of the day hiding in your room, avoiding Jungkook. It’s the only place in the entire house where he won’t come. Not after everything that has happened between you. He’s honorable in that sense. Things have shifted between you once again. There’s no anger anymore. All of that has been replaced by awkwardness. Now if you see each other, you only nod at one another. Occasionally, you talk too. But it’s always surface level things. Nonetheless, it’s a step in the right direction.

At half past one though, your stomach starts to grumble and gradually all you can think about is food. It’s a relief in a way because it distracts you from him. You spend ten minutes trying to persuade your brain that you’re not actually hungry.

“I am not hungry” you chant it like a mantra hoping that at least for a while it will go away.

After agonizing and torturing yourself for half an hour, you give in.

“Fuck this” you grumble as your hunger gets the better of you. You drag yourself down to the kitchen. Unlike last time though you don’t tiptoe around the house.

You go into the kitchen, open the fridge to find two plates already filled with food. A note, no doubt from Mrs. Jeon is stuck into the cling film: don’t forget to eat.

You grab a plate for yourself, leaving the other one in the fridge for Jungkook. You’re about to shut the door, when you change your mind. This may serve as an excuse to talk to him. At the end of the day, you’re going to be living in the same house. So you figure you can’t go on avoiding him.

You grab the second plate, heat both of them in the microwave.

You head back upstairs, where the bedroom’s are. You turn left at the landing towards his room which is at the end of the hallway. You stop in front of the door, and seeing as your hands are full you settle for calling his name. “Jungkook, you in your room? I got food”

You wait, but there is no response.

“Jungkook” you call again.

No response. Finding yourself with no other choice left, you somehow manage to balance the plate on your forearm. With the free hand, you turn the handle.

You peek your head inside to find the room empty. Just as you’re about to leave your eyes catch something at his bedside table. You know you shouldn’t go inside, but you can’t help it. You leave one of the plate’s on his bedside table  because you can’t lug three things around. You grab it, meaning to ask him about it when you find him.

You close the door, and head back downstairs. You walk the whole of the first floor from the dining room, living room, kitchen, family room calling out his name. But he’s nowhere.

“Maybe he’s in the basement” you think to yourself as you head downstairs. You walk down the steps.

It’s dark save for the blue LED lights running along the ceiling. You walk in further turning the corner from where the pool table, and the arcade game machines are. You remember that before Jungkook left he had set up one half of the basement as his gaming room.

Sure enough as you near the room you hear sounds of gunshots, and rifles and some mild cursing which makes you chuckle.

You don’t bother knocking as you enter. The same blue LED lights adorn the room. You can see his black mop of hair against the couch.

“Are you hungry?” you say tentatively as you stop next to the couch.

He immediately stops playing, throwing his remote on the ground as he turns to you. He takes off his headphones. You notice his hair is tied up in a bun, which manages to make your heart skip a few beats.

“Oh hey” he says, straightening up. “You didn’t have to” he notices the plate in your hand.

“Your mom said you haven’t been eating” you hold the plate for him and he reaches for it.

“Thanks” he offers a pursed lip smile. He takes the plate and sets it aside on the side table. A few beats of silence pass. He taps his fingers against one another, something you notice he does when he’s nervous. His eyes stay fixed on his hands.

“Will you make me a promise?” you look at his profile.

He clears his throat. “Depends on what it is”

You roll your eyes, fully expecting that response. “Just say you will”

Your persistent gaze makes him shift uncomfortably in his spot. He sighs, looking ahead at nothing in particular, while thinking over your request. He turns to you. “Fine”

“Promise me if I ask you questions, you will answer. It can be anything”

“That doesn’t sound very fair” his lips quiver at the corners, a hint of smile making an appearance. “What if I don’t want to answer”

“Too bad” you narrow your eyes at him. “You don’t have a choice. So?” you raise your brows giving him an expectant look.

He considers your demand, looking back at his hands again. “Well looks like I don’t have a choice”

“Good. Because I am asking right now”

At this, he looks at you wide eyed.

“Now?”

You nod. “Mmhmm. Tell me why you won’t act on your feelings”

He opens his mouth to speak but you cut him off. “Don’t deny it. If you didn’t feel anything for me you wouldn’t have lost your shit the day I hurt my ankle and you sure as shit wouldn’t have risked your life for me” you remind him. “And you wouldn’t have put this next to your bed” you bring forward the picture of you and him Mrs.Jeon’s friends had taken-- the one where you’re both looking at each other as he holds you by the waist.

He lets out an exasperated sigh. He rubs his hands on his face, resting his elbows on his knees as he keeps his face covered. He pulls his hands away , crossing them together. He looks at you, trying to determine how he should begin. “You’re right. I do have feelings for you. I’ve been here before y/n and…” he pauses, swallowing thickly.

“And what?” you prod, placing the photo frame next to you.

“She was beautiful. You should have seen her. She was amazing, just beyond I could express. Everyone here loved her. We used to spend every day together. Her parents hated me for it” he lets out a chuckle, a nostalgic look in his eyes.

“What happened?”

“She-- she died”

Your mouth hangs open. “I am so so sorry. I had no idea. I am sorry. Just.. forget I asked. I don’t need to know” you feel guilty immediately.

“No. It’s alright. I’ve already started. There was a fire in the woods years ago and she died in that. Some humans were having a bonfire and they left the fire burning. It caught on and somehow she got stuck in the middle of it with no escape” he looks down at his hands yet again.

You shift closer to him and wrap your arms around his shoulders resting your head on against the crook of his neck. “I am really sorry”

“Thank you” he places a hand on your forearm, leaning his cheek on your head.

“If I had known, I never would have pressed you. I feel like an asshole” you mumble.

“You’re not an asshole” he replies.

“I get it now and I promise you I won’t ever ask you to consider your feelings for me again” you lift your head and place a kiss on his cheek.

His lips curve up in a grin immediately and he is quick to place a kiss on your cheek too. “You’re amazing” his gaze locks with yours.

“I know” you grin. “Can I ask you something else too... ?” you say tentatively.

He nods. “Anything”

“Did you… did you imprint on her?” you ask, noting just how close you’re sitting to him. You can smell his breath, and feel it on your face as he beholds you in the most loving look in his eyes.

A coughing fit ensues for Jungkook, and you unwrap your arms from his shoulder, in favour of gently patting his back. “Sorry. Bad question hey?”

“No” he dismisses with his hand. “It’s just I’ve never been asked that”

“Forget I asked” you shake your head.

“No. I promised. Not her. Only my human side loved her. To imprint on someone all of me, including my wolf has to feel something. That’s the only way werewolves can imprint and it would be a far stronger bond than what I had with her” he sighs. “I have imprinted on someone. Not her” he finally answers your question.

“Oh my god” your heart sinks. “I- I have no idea what to say” you shift away from him, feeling like you’ve violated some rule. As if you have made him cheat on someone with you.

“Y/n” he says as soon as he sees your body language tensing. “It’s not what you’re thinking”

“No” you shake your head. “I am sorry. I am so sorry. I am so fucking stupid” you get up abruptly and march off while he calls out for you.

As is customary every third Friday of the month, the children from the neighbourhood gather around the campfire. This time Jungkook is there so he’ll have to answer all their questions.

Everyone sits around in a circle, some on the logs and others on chairs. Jungkook and you sit on opposite sides of the fire, Your eyes are fixed on the embers burning away. He holds a stick as he’s poking at the coal to keep the fire going. Your eyes meet momentarily as you both look up, but you look away first, busying yourself with watching the fire burn away the wood once more. You can still however feel his gaze resting on your face. But you’re too resigned at this moment to feel anything but emptiness.

“Is everyone ready?” Jimin comes along, absolutely chirpy and the complete opposite of how you look and feel. That’s when you sense Jungkook looks away. Jimin settles into the empty spot on the log next to you. He passes around drinks to the group. He offers you one too, but you decline. “Hey” he nudges you.

“Hmm” you turn your attention to him.

“What’s going on with you? Everyone’s been asking me what’s up”

“Nothing’s up” you shrug. “I am absolutely okay”

“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. But at least don’t lie” Jimin purses his lips in a smile.

“Sorry Jiminie. I am just not feeling great. I’ll be okay I promise” you note with a half assed smile.

“So who wants to go first and ask Jungkook questions” Jimin turns to the group once he’s assured by you. The group is made up of mostly older kids in their late teens. But there are some younger children mixed in the group.

A chorus of ‘me, me ,me, me’ starts up.

“How about we go one by one” Jimin suggests and the sea of hands in the air disappears.

“How was the city?” someone from your side asks. But you couldn’t be bothered to know who.

“It was good.” he sighs, poking the fire logs once again. “But it was dull compared to this place” his eyes flicker to you momentarily.

You catch him, if only for a second and then look at your hands as you fiddle with them.

“Did you find a human mate? I am sure you met very pretty girls” one of the girls asks. The question you piques your interest.

You remember she was the one who excitedly told you Jungkook was back.

He doesn’t respond immediately which only makes you think that he did meet someone there. Why wouldn’t he? She’s probably the one he’s imprinted on. You would leave were it not for Jimin who holds your wrist with a shake of his head as soon as he sees you’re about to get up.

“I did meet girls.” Jungkook says, looking at the little girl. “But they are nothing compared to someone else I know” he shifts his gaze to you once more. “She’s beautiful, but she doesn’t see it that way” he looks right at you, like he’s speaking to you, and you only. Time seems to stand still momentarily because he acts like no one else is around. “It’s a shame because she really is the most beautiful girl I have ever met” he holds your gaze, rendering you unable to look away.

You hear aww’s and squeals from all around you which pulls you away from the trance and blinkingly you avert your gaze.

“Does she know you like her?” someone else asks, this time a boy.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. I think she does. By the way, I thought this was about exchanging stories about our ancestry” he looks around at everyone.

“Yeah. We hear those every month. But this is much more exciting and romantic” one of the older girls probably in her late teens replies, and everyone agrees as they nod or offer a ‘yes’ in agreement. “Tell us more. What’s it like to imprint on someone?”

“Are you sure we should be talking about this? Aren’t they young?” Jungkook looks at Jimin.

“They won’t tell if you don’t. Right guys?” Jimin chuckles and everyone nods eagerly.

“Alright then” Jungkook continues.

At this point you really want to leave because you don’t want to hear about how she makes him happy, and how his whole life has changed because of her. But you stay because some part of you is still holding onto hope of you and him.

“It feels like gravity is shifting from underneath you. When you look at her, you can see everything clearly. It’s as if your past, present, and future come together all at once and everything makes sense. It’s as if you finally find the ‘why’ of your existence. You’ll be anything for her-- whatever she needs be that a protector, a friend, a lover. Anything… he trails.

“That’s so romantic” the girl squeals dreamily. “I want that too”

Jungkook laughs. “Any other burning questions?”

“When are you going to tell her?” another question comes which only furthers your resolve to leave. You get up, having had enough of it. The moment you stand, everyone turns to look at you. Without a word, you begin walking towards the house.

“Don’t you want to know who it is y/n?” Jungkook yells as you leave,  his words halting you in your steps. You feel everyone’s eyes darting back and forth between you and him.

You look over your shoulder. ‘I already told you”

“I think you’ll want to know,” he replies. You hear the crunch of the grass beneath his feet as he walks towards you. He gently places a hand on your elbow to turn you around. “Just let me tell you”

You glance up at the man. “I won’t be a--able to hear it” your voice cracks.

“I did imprint on someone—“

“Jungkook” you say warningly.

“Just listen to me” his grip on your elbow tightens, his jaw tightening.

“Jungkook please” you beg just as your eyes begin to water. You avert your gaze to the side. “Please. I cannot do this” you shake your head.

“I love her” he continues anyway despite your protests. You know he’s looking at you. But you can’t. You can hear the pain in his voice which makes everything so much more worse because that means he could never love anyone the way he loved her. “ She makes everything make sense and-”

“Just stop” you yank your elbow away from his hand and walk away.

You sit at the edge of the pier which juts out to the side from the boardwalk. just as the sun begins to set behind the mountains. The night market bustles in the distance. Crowds and crowds of people and come and go. Yet you feel calm, just watching the waves ripple beneath your feet. You dip them in the cold water, shivers running through your body. You splash the water, trying to pass your time.

You would have gone to the woods but given everything that has happened in that forest, you’re not too fond of it at the moment. This time Jungkook won’t be there to protect you. He’s out with his friends somewhere. You didn’t bother to ask where, not that it is any of your business.

From the periphery of your vision you can see a group of guys jumping down on the wooden planks of the pier.

You feel disappointed because you won’t have the space to yourself anymore.

They’re laughing, and being boys in general which makes you roll your eyes.

They pass by behind you, being as loud as ever. You ignore their incessant and annoyingly loud voices as you focus on the sun which is still in the process of setting. You close your eyes, the wind blowing softly against your face, and through your hair.

“Y/n?”

You instantly whip around to come face to face with none other than the man who had made a home out of your thoughts.

“Jungkook? You’re here?” You question, using your hands to push yourself up.

“Careful” his hands come out as if to hold you in case you fall.

“It’s okay” you tuck strands of hair behind your ears. “I am fine”

“I was just with my friends” he turns behind, and points to them while they stand a respectful distance away. They wave at you and hesitantly you wave back. “Why are you here?”

“I needed to get out of the house. The woods aren’t exactly my favorite place right now. So I thought why not come here” you shrug.

He nods, sliding his fingers in his jean pockets, rocking back and forth on his toes. “So…”

“So…” you fold your arms across your chest out of sheer self-consciousness.

“Do you maybe want to-” he starts.

“Hey Jungkook” a random girl throws her arms around his shoulders from behind, chin resting on his shoulder.

You look between the two of them.

This must be her. She’s pretty

“I thought we were gonna go eat” she pouts at him questioningly.

He doesn’t look at her as he speaks. Instead he locks eyes with you. He stares at you— wordlessly, like he’s lost in you. “Yeah” his reply is intended for her.

“Well introduce me, won’t you?” she looks at him and then at you.

“This is…” he’s still looking at you and you only.

“I am Alix” she extends a hand, much too cheerfully.

“Y/n” you can only manage to press your lips to feign a smile.

“Ohhh” her mouth opens in realization and she looks at him, like she’s impressed.

This time he looks at her and nods.

“Well y/n, do you want to come to dinner with us?” she offers kindly. But to your ears it’s anything but.

“No. I am alright. But thank you” you look at her. “See you at home Jungkook”

“Just come” he says just as you’re about to turn around to leave.

“I have to do some stuff at home” you say listlessly. “I’ll see you tonight” you reply with a ghost of a smile.

Yet again you turn away from him, not even waiting for his response.

You walk all the way back home, thankful that the way back is quiet, and not many people are around. You take the road from the pier that merges into the street that leads to your house up the hill.

You kick your feet beneath you, sighing heavily every so often. A fluttery feeling intensifies in your stomach the closer you get to home. Your chest feels heavy, a dull ache coming on. Your breathing quickens pace, not so much from the effort of walking up the hill but the mental exhaustion that you’ve faced in the past few weeks.

Love fucking sucks.

Your thoughts are occupied by Jungkook and Jungkook only. Every thought begins and ends with him and soon enough your head is full of memories you spent with him-- good and bad. It’s like a movie playing in your head-- beginning with the first time you saw him after he came back, and just a few minutes ago to Alix and her perfectly pretty face. How could he not love her?

By the end of it, you’re positively bawling your eyes out. Tears upon tears cascade down your face, with no indication of stopping anytime soon. You wipe your nose with the back of your hand, sniffling. Your legs become heavy with the weight of carrying you up the hill. Your head hurts, and you’re sure you’ll faint if you don’t sit down soon.

You quietly continue to sob, head hung low as you reach the gate. You push it open. Your feet drag beneath you, a heavy tread leaving marks of soil from the walk up on the cemented pathway. You open the door to the house, only to hit your head on something.

“Ow” you mumble, rubbing the spot that’s starting to ache. It only makes you sob more. “What the hell...” you lament under your breath, beginning to cry with the force of someone writhing in pain on all fours. You fall on your knees, everything inside you giving up. You cry the way a child does-- hiccuping, heaving to catch your breath only to have it be drowned by another wave of painful sobs.

“Just stop” Jungkook’s voice cracks, as he falls to his knees in front of you too. “Stop doing this to yourself” he croaks.

“I don’t know how to” you strain.

“I can make it all go away y/n” his cheeks are stained with tears too. He gathers you in his arms just like he’s done before. He kisses the top of your head. “Just let me make it go away. Please”

You break the embrace to look up at him through tear soaked eye lashes. “You can’t” your voice quivers.

“If you just…” he stops to take a deep breath, arms loosely wrapped around your back. He’s defeated into silence by your cries.

“It hurts” you clutch the material of his shirt., tucking your chin into your neck “It hurts so so much”

“It’s you”

You don’t even hear him, as you hide your face behind your hands, your body shaking due to your forceful sobs.

“It’s you.” he says again. “Listen to me. For once. Please” he’s begging you at this point.

You uncover your face to look at him. “What?”

“It’s been you all along”

“Wh…” your mouth remains open as you gawk at him. You hastily wipe your face with your hands as if that will somehow help you make sense of it.

“It’s you” he says in a whisper. “It’s you” he looks into your eyes this time--really looks as he says it for the third time almost like he’s saying it as a mantra. “I love you”

As if on cue, you stop crying because his words sink in. You don’t just hear them, you understand them. You begin connecting the dots. “Holy shit” you look at him daze. “I never even gave you a chance to speak” you bemoan that fact.

A bittersweet chuckle softly crosses his lips. “You didn’t. If you had, you wouldn’t have tortured yourself like this. Couldn’t you see it?” he searches your eyes for an answer that will make sense to him.

“How could I have? You’re you and I am me-- clumsy and stupid. You acted like there was someone else this whole time” you rub your eyes to dry the tears away.

“You never gave me a chance to tell you. I tried so many times. That night in the woods when I said I feel what you feel, you misunderstood that as being part of my abilities as a werewolf. But that’s not true. I feel every emotion you feel and I feel it ten times more than you because I imprinted on you .Then I tried to tell you during our conversation in game room and you walked away”

“Then why didn’t you do anything? Why didn’t you just act on it? You should have stopped me”

“You know why” a slight frown adorns his forehead.

You gulp hard, realizing the depth of what you just said. An apology is just at the tip of your tongue. “I know I said I wouldn’t ask you to consider my feelings ever again. But Jungkook, I can’t. Being around you overwhelms me. All I want to do is be around you, have you in my sights and when you’re not I feel disappointed and sad. I miss you every single second of the day when you’re not there. ”

“I have seen the entirety of us y/n-- everything that was, is and all that is to come ”

“I’ve imagined a whole future with you too”

He doesn’t respond.

Your stomach feels tight, your chest feels like something is pressing on it as his silence continues. Your gaze doesn’t leave him for even a second. You feel like you’re naked, as if the whole of you is on display, vulnerable to the point where even a single look will be enough to make or break you.

“I am just asking you to love me” your soft voice doesn’t dampen the gravity of your words.

He scoffs. “That’s just it though. I don’t just love you. I am bound by you. I am bound to you for the rest of my existence. That’s far scarier than love”

“I don’t know how to reply to that. All I know is I am in love with you exactly the way you’re in love with me” you shift closer to him, locking your fingers in his. “Because I can’t deny you any more than you can deny me”

He looks down and plays with your fingers. “That’s true. But I haven’t stopped thinking about the night you got attacked. What would have happened if I wasn’t there? What would I have done with myself if something happened to you?” his words reflecting the guilt he’s been feeling.

“Quit blaming yourself” you chide him. “Anything can happen to me, or to you at any given time. So stop worrying about that and keep your promise of protecting me. It’s not like you can switch this off”

“Not any more than I can stop breathing” he replies.

“Then love me. It’s simple. Jungkook, we either do this, or we don’t” it’s not that you are giving him an ultimatum, but it’s a fact.

“You know as much as I do, that even if in some ridiculous world I wanted to say no, I couldn’t. So you don’t have to worry about me not loving you. Because that just isn’t possible. Not only because I chose you but because that’s just how it is”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“I already told you I love you. You know that I do”

“And that’s supposed to be it?” you raise your brows at him.

His lip quivers into a lopsided smile, the solemn mood beginning to shift. “Tell me what you want”

“Just kiss--”

His lips on yours quiet down your thoughts to nothing. Shivers cascade down your body in waves. He invades each of your senses. The fluttering in your stomach grows intense. His lips feel soft against your own.

Jungkook keeps his eyes slightly open, taking a guilty peek at your face. He still couldn’t imagine if this was a figment of his imagination, or if the universe had gifted him this moment just at the right time. But he felt thankful for it beyond words could express. Every breath he took smelled like you— like water lilies.

“I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time.” he breathes heavily. He doesn’t even give you the chance to speak because he’s pressing his lips to yours once again— softly and gently. His hands run the sides of your body, the material of your shirt gathering together, exposing your skin.

He guides you up without breaking the kiss, pulling you in to erase every inch of space between your bodies. You can feel every contour of his body against your own. You hold him tight, trying to take in the feeling.

His hands slide under your thighs as he picks you up, you wrap your legs around his hips, as he takes you inside the house. He carries you as if you don’t weigh anything— through the house and up the stairs to his room.

“What” kiss. “About” kiss. “Your parents?”

“Not” kiss  “here” he mumbles between a kiss.

He kicks the door open and carries you in until your back hits a wall. He gently lets you down, till the tips of your toes are touching the floor. He breaks the kiss. “You know I won’t do anything you don’t want right?” his gaze, fixated on your eyes.

You nod, running your tongue over your lips and tasting him.”How could I not want this” you pull him by the nape of his neck, unable to bear even one second of distance. He happily obliges, melting into the kiss with a content sigh. It kind of feels like you’re drunk because there is a slight buzz and your mind feels hazy. You’re thoughtless at the moment, and your entire body is burning. Kissing him, touching him-- is all the intoxication you need to feel out of control. Neither your mind, nor your body is acting under your direction anymore

Your whole being is responding only to Jungkook. Every kiss, every soft touch, every caress, every stroke elicits a reaction from you.

“Tell me what you want, baby” he asks, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck and to your chest. “Tell me exactly what you want” his mouth parts against the skin of your neck as he bites down gently.

You can’t help the moan that passes your lips and fades into the air. “You”

He inhales sharply at your words as if that is enough to turn him on. He lifts his head up to look at you “You wanted me to love you right?” he pushes your thighs out by burying his leg between yours. He pushes his thigh against you exactly where you’re aching for him.

“Oh my god….” your voice fails you.

“I’ve thought of you so many nights, for so long” he pushes in more and you grind your hips against his thigh.

“I want more” you can’t help but mumble. “Please”

A corner of his lip raises in a smirk. “Your wish is my command” . He swipes his thumb against your clothed clit. “Is this what you want baby?”

You nod, a whimper crossing your lips as the sound of your heavy breaths fills the air.

You continue to rock your hips against his thigh, while he continues to rub circles on your clit. “Does that feel good?” he asks, but before you can even respond he’s shoving his tongue down your mouth through your parted lips.

You moan into him. eyes shutting tight at the fluttery sensation between your legs. You clutch the fabric of his shirt, unable to hold yourself up longer as you clench around nothing in particular. You feel the adrenaline in every part of your body-- in the pounding of your heart, in your breathless noises, in the way your body grows warmer by the second.

You open your eyes to look at him, cupping his face in your hands. But he’s already looking at you. His pupils are dilated, irises beginning to change colour from his chocolate brown to blue while he continues to kiss you. His hand stops moving against your clit, and he removes his thigh from between your legs. At the loss of friction you feel like a starved animal, needing more, and more, and more. You didn’t think you could ever feel this way, but he was making you abandon all of your inhibitions and want whatever he could give you. You didn’t know if you would ever feel satisfied after what you started.

But Jungkook knows exactly how to pleasure you and then some more as he picks you up and leads you to his bed where he lays you down. He hovers over you, palms pressed into the mattress on either side of you. He gulps.”Are you sure?”

You only nod.

He shifts down, unbuttoning your jeans, and sliding them out from under your legs. He throws them on the floor. He parts your legs, resting his upper body between your legs. He doesn’t waste any time, as he licks a strip on your clothed clit.

“O-oh- oh my….” your fingers curl around his hair, and you push his mouth flush against your core.

He moans against your flesh, laying kitten licks against the sensitive skin. The friction tenses the knot in your stomach even more. Just when you think there’s nothing more he could do, you feel your insides being stretched as he pushes a finger into you. Your back arches at the sensation. He buries his finger knuckle deep,curling it and inside you and hitting that sweet spot. Broken moans and gasps cross your mouth, while your toes curl from all the pleasure.

Seconds tick by and turn into minutes which turns into hours and just like that the night flies by. You don’t know how many times you come undone under him, above him. You stopped counting after the second time because you weren’t even in a state where you could think about thinking anything.

You lay under the sheets facing each other--limbs entangled and noses almost touching. Every few seconds the tip of his nose touches yours as he moves in to kiss you, but then he stops.

“Stop being a tease” you pout at him.

He laughs, showing his pearly whites. His eyes crinkle at the corners just like they do when he’s happy. He leans in, to place a peck on your lips. Then he shifts his head up to kiss your forehead. Then gently, he places a tender kiss at the tip of your nose. He pulls your hand into his as he brings it to his lips, laying down gentle kisses on each knuckle.

“Who taught you how to be romantic?” you tease

“I’ve always been romantic” his gaze locks with yours, a gentle smile coming onto his lips.

“By the way what did you talk to Jimin about that day?” a sudden curiosity shifts the subject.

A look of realization crosses his face “Ah” he says. “I told him about you”

“So that’s why you were pissed” you chuckle.

“Pissed?” his brows crinkle together.

“You were jealous of course. You looked like you were going to kill him” a corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk.

“No. I wasn’t. That’s childish stuff. I just thought he should know that at that time you were kind of taken. Not really but you know…”

You tap his nose. “If you say so” You trace the outline of his face with your fingers. “Are you happy?” you whisper.

“More than I can tell you. Are you?” he licks his lips as his eyes flicker to yours.

“Mhmm” you nod. “Happiest I have ever been I think”

“Good” he kisses the back of your hand. “That’s all I want for you baby”

“I can’t believe you’re mine” you look into his eyes-- finding yourself falling in love all at once.

“You better believe it” his lips turn up at the corners into a grin. “I don’t know how much humans mean it when they say ‘forever’. But let me tell you us werewolves tend to take the stuff pretty seriously.”

You chuckle silently, huffing through your nose. “Your point being?”

“You better believe I am yours, because you’re forever y/n. Until my last breath”

THANK YOU IF YOU READ THIS! REBLOG, COMMENT, LIKE! 

#bts #bts smut #jungkook smut #bts werewolf au #jungkook x reader #bts scenarios #bts fic #jungkook fic #jungkook scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst #jungkook angst #bts jungkook x reader

[rokutouxei]

family-friendly

genshin impact | T | 1967 childe/lumine | established relationship [ao3]

Childe and Lumine remember their first kiss very, very differently.

-

“We’ll go in the summer,” Childe had promised, and she had honestly believed that with all her heart. Remembered her adventures in the Golden Heart Archipelago with Klee and Jean and imagined all golden shores and blue skies and wide, open oceans. She was ready for that.

She was not ready for the bulky winter wear. She was not ready for the temperature that was like large hydro and cryo slimes all over her body, freezing her until there’s not much left to be frozen again.

(This is where she starts to doubt Childe’s rose-colored glasses.)

It is… quite the experience, to visit his home in Snezhnaya. There was no way she was declining the offer now that she was bound for the nation, and not with Childe giving her free pass into the country despite all the atrocities she’s done to Fatui agents across Teyvat. The least she could do was visit their little home, right? Say hello to his parents, his brothers and sisters, maybe stay for dinner, and then go to her hotel…right?

Wrong.

At this point, she is well aware of how Childe can be. Sweet and romantic when something in him softens, when that part of him that is always craving battle dissipates once his vulnerability sinks in. It’s a side of him anyone rarely sees, one she’s so proud of having the privilege to see on occasion. What slipped her mind is that the wall Childe sets up for the rest of the people in his life—other diplomats, other Fatui, other adventurers, the people he comes to just to have a fistfight with—is a wall he didn’t need to keep up with his family.

They arrive sometime past noon, after a long boat ride and a short trek up a mountain slope. The sky is an enthralling shade of blue. Quite like his eyes. It was snowing lightly—“it feels like it’s always snowing in Snezhnaya,” Childe had told her once—but it wasn’t the dreary kind of snow, rather the one that was a little exciting to watch. Childe knocked at the door and opened it with a yell, which she assumed was a greeting.

She mentally prepared herself for it, but she hadn’t expected Teucer, Anton, and Tonia to greet her with “sister!!” just as she walked through the premises.

Just how much had he told them in his letters?

(How much of her that they knew was the Lumine of Childe’s imagination, one that she would have to keep up with?)

She never peeked at the letters whenever he was busy writing them, never bothered because she felt like it would be an invasion of privacy, but now that she was here under the familiar sea-blue gaze of his entire family… she wondered if even just one look would have been alright.

Getting the approval of the younger siblings was an easy task; all she had to do was give them a few of the souvenirs she and Childe had brought over from their travels and promise to sit down and tell them of her adventures for them to give her the thumbs-up. The less impressionable ones, however, were Childe’s older sisters and brothers, who were polite and homely but a lot curter, as if trying to gauge if she were a good match with their younger brother. If the way his eldest sister had gifted Lumine her own set of Snezhnayan clothing even before dinner is any sign, perhaps she had at least passed their preliminary test.

But family time is very important in Snezhnayan culture, and dinner—well, dinner was an entirely different affair altogether.

-

“You’ve known each other for a long time, Ajax has been writing letters about you since.”

Liyue and Osial and Rex Lapis seem so far away now. “It took us a while to get along,” Lumine admits, side-eyeing Childe, “but once we found our footing with each other, it was enjoyable company.”

Childe’s eldest brother laughs. “Ajax. Enjoyable company.”

“You must be one hell of a woman to persist like that,” his other brother jokes.

“Well, that just means he made a good impression on her right away,” a sister muses.

“He got me out of a tough spot,” Lumine answers, remembering Yujing Terrace and the Rite of Descension. “I owed him one for that.”

“Isn’t that sweet!” his mother coos. “Ajax has changed, to be so sweet from the start.”

“Sweet? It was more of Sexual tension and”—Lumine yells, trying to cover him up: “Hey?! There are kids!”—"aggression from the start.”

“Oh, honey, don’t mind him,” Childe’s mother says, chuckling softly. “His siblings are used to him being straightforward like that.”

“I’m not…” Lumine murmurs, slinking back into her seat, causing the entire table to roll with laughter.

Dinner lasts for what seems like hours, and Lumine sits there shyly poking at her food as questions get pelted at her and Chllde about their relationship. The question of marriage is inescapable too, and she and Childe share a glance at each other for the briefest of moments before answering “it’ll come when it’ll come.”

But while it is easy to shrug off the adults’ more serious questions like that, it is the children’s concerns that are harder to ignore. So when Teucer asks—“How did your first kiss go?”

—Childe instantly pipes up and goes: “Oh, let me tell this one, babe. We were at Liyue Harbor together—"

It only takes Childe a few sentences before Lumine screeches, “No no no no please stop!!”, covering his mouth with her hands.

The whole family just laughs.

-

It is only until after dinner, when Lumine is sure that most of her face had already melted off of her skull, when she gets to pull Childe aside while in their (shared!) bedroom and ask: “No, seriously, Ajax. How do you remember our first kiss?”

“Was my storytelling over at dinner not enough, my принцесса? Would you rather I give you a reenactment?”

She blushes fiercely at being called a princess, but she tries her best to ignore it. “What? No, all I’m asking is—”

Childe does not pay attention and holds her in position, pushing her backward until she’s sat on the bed and he’s standing in front of her, towering (and admittedly a little… delicious, now that he’s dressed down and fresh from the shower.) “We’d come from a fight—the best thing to do with you. Or second best thing,” Childe muses, but then shakes his head back into focus. He holds Lumine’s chin with his index finger and thumb and forces her to look up. “I beat you that time.”

She narrows her eyes, staring back at him defiantly. “Only because I was handicapped.”

“Sure, my love. Luck on my part.” Childe grins. “I was trying to get you to stop sulking.”

“‘Warriors must learn to take part in losses,’” Lumine quotes him, and he nods.

He comes closer to her, carefully switching so that his palm is cupping her cheek instead, wiping an imaginary tear or bruise on her cheek. “You were so strong, but I’d tired you out more than usual. You were slumped in your seat, so I went to try and get you to rest, and you closed your eyes and leaned your head on my hand—” Childe smiles, a genuine one, small and sweet it gets Lumine’s heart racing. “I couldn’t help it, you know? I didn’t know what to tell you—how to tell you, so when you opened your eyes, I decided—fuck, I’m going to kiss her right here.”

Childe leans forward and presses a kiss on her lips.

“And I thought, ‘she’s going to hate me after this,’ but you didn’t, and instead you put your hands on your shoulders and then my hair, and you kissed me back,” he sighs. “You should really be cute more often, my sweet. You were so needy. Like this, let me show you—”

And just as Childe is about to press his lips on hers again, she places the palm of her hand against his mouth and pushes him roughly away.

“That is not what happened.”

Lumine is sure and inconvincible.

“What?”

There’s a moment of silence between the both of them that seems to extend for miles.

Childe blinks, his mind finally settling back into place. “That is what happened. What do you mean? Did you forget how our first kiss went?”

“Did you forget how our first kiss went? That was not how it went.”

Irritation clouds Childe’s visage for a brief moment. “Okay, how did it go then?”

Lumine clears her throat. Childe gets off his knees and back to his feet, settling into position. Lumine takes his hand in hers to put it into place—

And squeezes her cheeks with it twice. Childe goes lax. Lumine holds it in place, just open enough so she can talk.

“You were teasing me. We did come from a fight, and I did lose. And you thought I was being a sore loser about it, but the only true part was that I was sore. And tired.” She squeezes her cheeks with his hand another time. “‘Aww, defeat getting in your head?”’ she says, mimicking his intonation. ‘Warriors must learn to take part in losses, you know?’”

Childe tries to pull away. “I did not—”

“You did,” she insists, holding him in place. “You wouldn’t even let me catch my breath. Do you remember what I did?” He shakes his head. “I bit you,” she answered for him, gently digging her teeth into the flesh between his thumb and index finger. “You yelped and pulled your hand back. Do you remember now?”

He blinks, the memory of it slowly coming back. “Oh no.”

Lumine snickers. “Yes, oh no, Ajax.” She takes him by the wrist and pulls him closer to her, back to his knees. “‘Feisty little girlie,’” she says, in his voice, mockingly. “I growled at you. You chuckled, you bastard. And then you pulled me by the chin and kissed me.”

She presses a kiss over his lips, shaking a little from holding back laughter.

And, with her mouth still on his, she continues—“And I bit you—”

She digs her teeth on his lower lip before pulling away.

“And that excited you because of course it did, and then we—”

“Made out on the mountainside overlooking Liyue Harbor. Holy shit,” Childe finishes, face pale. When he collapses onto the bed next to her, Lumine doesn’t even try to stop the full-blown laugh coming out of her.

“I can’t believe you made it into some sweet romantic memory!” she teases him. “That’s your taste, huh?”

“I swear, that is how I remember that moment!”

“Well you remember it wrong,” Lumine notes, grinning. “Since when have we been gentle kisses, Ajax? You said it yourself—it’s all sexual tension and aggression.”

“I can be romantic sometimes.”

“Sometimes. Not that time.”

When Childe sinks further down the mattress, she presses a kiss on her forehead and looks down at him with soft eyes. “But if that’s how you want to remember it, we can always make that how it goes.”

And when he smirks, for the briefest of moments she thinks she sees his eyes light up in a way she’s always wanted to see. “Really?”

“Really, you dummy,” is all she gets to say before Childe takes her lips with his, a slow, decadent kiss of gratitude. All sweet things, but Lumine knows better to believe that’s going to last any more than a minute, his hot breath already against her neck.

And she thinks, chuckling: maybe it’s better like this. At least they’ll have a version of their first kiss that’s the tiniest bit more family-friendly.

#chilumi #childe #genshin impact #genshin #lumine #rated:T

[scottymcgeesterwrites]

Ambiguous

There has been something I need to write about and shout into the void. It has been tearing me apart, and I don’t know how people will react elsewhere, so I figured this was the safest place. This will be the soft reveal before even speaking about it to my friends. Or maybe I will never speak about it ever again. Maybe I will feel fine after writing it this way.  For my entire life, people have mistaken me for being Indian, to the point where actual Indians walk up to me and start speaking in their dialect. My mile-long blank stare makes them realize that I am not Indian, and one of two things happen - they either apologize and explain they mistook me for Indian, or they exclaim, “You’re NOT Indian?”

I’m Cuban and Colombian. I grew up in New Jersey. I am an American citizen but it gets confusing when you take into account that my mother flew to Santiago, Chile to have me there because of a clinic that specialized in geriatric pregnancy at the time, so my “birthplace” reads Chile on my passport. That’s always a mouthful to have to explain and it further confuses people, so I end up saying, “I was born in New Jersey”.  My skin tone is best described as ambiguous. I could be many things. I’ve gotten Middle Eastern, Indian, and specifically “Egyptian”. I have no idea why “Egyptian” but. Whatever.  I have always lived in some liminal space where people ask the dreaded question, “What are you?” Now here’s the most frustrating thing of all - not everyone who has asked me that was white. Growing up, I thought that I could relate to someone who wasn’t white to understand how I feel. Black people have asked me that. Indian people have asked me that. Middle Eastern people have asked me that. Cubans and Colombians have asked me that.  Throughout my youth, I was paranoid that maybe I was adopted or something, given how people didn’t seem to connect me with my parents. I was told that my Cuban side hails from Spain, but my Colombian side is shrouded in mystery. My dad never liked to talk about my family. I never knew anyone past my grandparents. Well, I did meet my great-grandmother once when I was seven, but she had practically turned back into a baby at that point, banging on the table demanding food and needing to be spoon-fed. My own people don’t recognize me, and they often say things like, “You don’t LOOK Latino!” or “What? You’re LATINO?” and the best one yet “You don’t SOUND Spanish!” The worst offenders, however, would laugh and say, “¡Pareces Hindu!” which means “You look Hindu!” Hindu is the religion, dumbass. Anyone, and I mean anyone, can be racist and slip some “micro-aggression”. I am not fluent in Spanish, but I can write and understand every word in Spanish. I often inadvertently offend Spanish-speaking people when I reply to them in English when they thought they were being sneaky by talking in Spanish around me.  The reason I don’t speak Spanish as fast as my peers is because of two reasons:  1. My parents at the time when I grew up believed in the misconception and pseudoscientific belief that children will be “confused” if two or more languages are spoken in the house.  2. Central New Jersey, where I grew up, hadn’t yet seen many Hispanic people, so locals at the time often leered at people who spoke Spanish in public.  When my mother took me to our local Gymboree, I spotted a butterfly and shouted in Spanish, “¡Mariposa! ¡Mariposa!”. The other mothers kept staring at me, and then distanced themselves from us.  The weirdest thing ever was experiencing white people who studied the Spanish language better than me and making fun of me for actually being Spanish but being unable to speak it fluently. I had a crush on this girl whom I’ll call “Anjy” in freshman year of college. It took me until now to realize that I think she had a Latino fetish. Anjy only exclusively went out with Latino men, but never seemed to openly admit it. The only thing she did admit was that, “I can only be with a man who speaks Spanish. It’s so important to me.” So obviously I wasn’t a contender, despite being Latino. Anjy doesn’t have an ounce of Spanish in her. None. But she studied it since high school and fell in love with it and became Spanish’s #1 fan. I was so jealous of how fluent she was. She could roll her r’s and speak it beautifully. Since we became friends, I said to her, “Oh, I can finally practice my Spanish with someone!” We tried, but she laughed at me and said, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. You sound like a gringo.” It’s a very topsy-turvy world where some white girl uses a derogatory term on me, a derogatory term from my culture that describes an outsider, used to describe me. She went to Costa Rica after we graduated, lived there for a few years, and came back home with a husband.  (That’s when I fully realized just how much she fetishized us.) A few years ago, my now-fiancée gifted me a DNA test for my birthday. That came out of left field for me, and opened up a range of emotions that I wasn’t ready for. She said she remembered how I wondered aloud why I looked the way I looked and about my ancestry.  I sat on the DNA test for a while. 

I stared at it. 

I held the kit in my hands. 

I opened it and closed it.  What if I really was Indian? What if I found out something that made me feel so much worse? But how bad could it be? I was also wary about the company keeping my DNA for nefarious reasons. However, luckily enough, my fiancée had bought the kit from AncestryDNA - the one DNA company that has responded to people saying they would delete their DNA at their request. I bit the bullet and sent my sample.  When the test came back, I opened it up and everything made sense. It made so much sense that I laughed out loud. It’s so funny how nobody has guessed the only other possibility for my skin tone that is what I actually am.  I am pretty much half native to the Americas.  I’m not sure what that’s called. Native American seems to be associated exclusively to North America. So Native South American? Native to the Americas? Native American (et al)? The Colombian side can be traced through turmoil in South America, up through Mesoamerica, and into North America. So many spots lit up all over the Americas. And like the Cuban side said, I was indeed from Spain as well.  I was split right down the middle. 50/50. The native side and the European side were practically screaming at each other in my genes. I felt as though a great weight had been lifted from me that I didn’t even know was there. I knew for a fact that I was my parents’ son. I had an explanation for why I look the way I look, and it made sense and it was obvious. It didn’t end there though.  I didn’t feel Native American. I had no cultural connection to anything “native”. I tried thinking in terms of my personality though. I always had a strong belief in saving the land and respecting the dead. I did vandalize a construction site back in my high school days to preserve farmland. My family did like to decorate the house with Aztec and Mayan statues. Aside from that though, I had about as much personal connection to native culture as Olive Garden does to Italy. The thing about my parents being from Cuba and Colombia is that those were two very violent and turbulent places in the past century. After I tell people where my families hail from, they always asked me with wide-eyes, “Oh have you been there???” Well, I dunno man. If you have any inkling of what’s going on the world you would know the awkward relationship that the United States has had with Cuba, and what it means to be a fucking exile. And the fact that Colombia has seen gang wars for the entirety of my life. So no. I haven’t. When I was a little boy I asked my parents if we would ever visit Colombia or Cuba, but they told me we shouldn’t go back. Colombia was violent, and Cuba’s government watched everyone. My mother was afraid of what would happen if she tried going back. Maybe they wouldn’t let her, or us. Maybe they’d let us through but I wouldn’t even be allowed to return if they knew I was the son of an exile. Worse yet, they might detain my mother. You never know when your family had beef with the government and was told to leave.  And what really drives a knife in my heart is hearing people ask that really annoying question. “Have you visited???” As if they were hot and exotic touristy locales. No. Because my parents were forced to flee, because they needed a better life.  “Wouldn’t your mom love it if you got married in Cuba? She would get to visit her home!”  You don’t get the trauma she has. You don’t understand how much of a toll it would take on her to return home and see all the things she once knew and love gone or tarnished. She received word recently that the farmhouse she grew up in now became a restaurant. The house that my grandfather built by hand. Strangers now sit and eat there. Maybe tourists. The hotel that my great-grandfather used to own now doesn’t belong to us anymore - the government said it was theirs. There is nothing for her to go back to but loss.  I felt distraught when I saw a former college classmate who has become an Instagram influencer immediately visit Cuba once travel restrictions were eased. She posted all about it and acted as if she were an expert about it. She used to be a lawyer in Washington D.C. until she decided to “take hold of her life” and “follow her dream” and go to Bali and now lives everyday in tropical paradise. It seemed like some people were pointing out the hypocrisy in her posts about life given the lifestyle she leads, since she felt the need to say something about it. She made a video where she tried to relate to her followers. She said how “it’s still hard” for her, that she “has to work every day”, and meanwhile literally the next fucking day she posts a picture of her having lunch by a waterfall, or napping in her hammock by the beach. But when she visited Cuba, and took pictures and wrote a long post about the country, I just lost it. She met up with some other white Instagram influencer friend, and they took selfies at a café and lectured about the region and--- That’s supposed to be my country, my culture. I’m supposed to feel that way about my people, not you. I went to a wedding recently in July. This black man slapped me on the back after I cracked a joke and said, “Hey, where you from?”

“New Jersey.” He laughed. “No, but really though. Where are you from?” “New Jersey.” “I mean originally. Your background. What are you?” It was the first time I had been asked that question since I got back my DNA test results, and for some reason it hit me so much differently.

I really wanted to say, “I don’t know.” It’s ironic how knowing what I am made me feel more confused, more alone and more isolated than ever before. I am bad at speaking Spanish, and when I try to practice with other Spanish-speaking people they laugh at me and say, “You sound like a gringo” and say they can’t bear to practice with me. I don’t look Latino. I might look Indian or I might look Middle Eastern. With me, everyone assumes things about me, no matter what they are. Some people have the luxury of automatic and unspoken assumptions about their background. Then there’s me. Not quite tan, not quite white. I don’t raise enough suspicion at the airport to warrant a search but at the same time I have to jump over one extra hurdle when they ask me one extra question: “Where are you from?” or “How long are you staying here?” or “What are you here for?” It’s very subtle and deceptively innocent. Nobody else who is pasty white gets asked any questions. They just stamp their passport and wave them away. I’m just ambiguous enough to warrant that extra step - just in case, you know? I envy people so much who can have a clear culture and place to point and say, “I’ve been there. I’ve been where I come from.” I envy people who can recognize all the idiosyncrasies of their family’s region. I don’t belong to any country or culture or identity. There are only a few scant pieces of culture that my parents passed on to me. “Oh, on Christmas we do this” or “We say this once and a while. That was a common expression there.” I envy people with huge families who have not been estranged by government and bloodshed or lost to time. I envy people who can trace their families back to their grandfathers and great-grandfathers and great-great-grandmothers. As a kid I wish I was able to say something like, “My great-granddaddy fought Nazis in the war!” I will never know anyone beyond that one old great-grandmother who no longer recognized anyone’s face. Everyone else is a name on a tombstone, or a whisper in vague oral history. I envy people who can firmly say, “I am *insert nationality here*” Because I always mumble at that phrase.  I am. . .a. . . I am from. . . . uh I am. . .  I am. 

#onlife #culture #racism #ethnic minorities #ethnicity #cuba #cuban #colombia #colombian #spanish #hispanic #latino #spain #race #personal #identity #brown skin #tan skin #black #white #ambiguous #india #indian #english #language #native american #native #aztec #mayan #maya

[chimchimsauce]

XS (V - Honesty)

“Give me just a little bit MORE”

Being the son of the largest gang in the country, Kim Taehyung might as well be a prince. He is more powerful than any one man should be and is not afraid to get rid of anything - or anyone that gets in his way.

So when a man is unable to pay back the gigantic loan he owes Taehyung, the heir is all too happy to take his life. Moments away from pulling the trigger, a girl more beautiful than he’s ever seen bursts in and offers her life for her father’s. Taehyung knows right away that he wants her.

And Taehyung gets everything he wants.

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Yoonji doesn't say anything as she helps YN out of her dress and YN isn't sure if she feels relieved or even more terrified. On one hand, she's grateful for the silence, not wanting to be bombarded after such a stressful encounter. But on the other hand . . . Yoonji doesn't say anything to imply that things will get better or that Taehyung - the man who is to become her husband in just a few short hours - isn't as violent and terrible as he seems.

"Yoonji," YN begins as the other woman begins to run a tub of warm water in the beautiful bathroom, "Can you be honest with me?"

Yoonji doesn't turn away immediately, instead finishing her task. When she turns to YN, her face is blank.

"Honest about what?" she asks, helping YN undress entirely.

YN wants to be embarrassed but she doesn't have the energy to.

"What is my life going to be like?" she asks, wincing as she steps into the bathwater.

Her stomach hurts like crazy and she will absolutely have an ugly bruise in a few days.

Yoonji scoops a pitcher into the milky water, pouring it over YN's head. YN coughs, choking on the unexpected water.

"Do what he says and you'll be fine," Yoonji says, unbothered by YN's coughing, "As long as you do what's expected of you, he won't hurt you . . . probably."

Yoonji dumps water over YN's head again and the woman leans forward, trying to get away from Yoonji's grasp.

"Stop moving," Yoonji says, poring some product into her hands and raking it through YN's hair.

YN wipes her face, water clinging to her eyelashes. She can't help but think that Yoonji is upset at her for some reason. Her stomach twists uncomfortably. YN had been hoping that in the very least she'd have someone who didn't terrify her to keep her company but it seems like that won't be the case.

YN sniffs, lungs hurting from all the coughing. Her eyes tear up and she can't tell if it's from pain or emotional distress. She doesn't ask any more questions as Yoonji scrubs her down with brown sugar and massages oils and cocoa butter into her skin. Yoonji dresses her in a silky nightgown and leaves her alone, closing the door with a simple "Good luck."

YN sneaks out of the bed and tries the door but to no one's surprise, it's locked. Sighing, YN crawls back into bed, grabbing one of the down pillows and cuddling it close to her. She wonders how her parents are doing. Are they okay? Were they able to clean the kitchen? Have they buried the family dog yet?

But most importantly, did Taehyung keep his word? Are they still alive?

YN's grip on the pillow tightens. She feels no peace, no ability to fall asleep. All she can do is stare at the ceiling, the hours passing by in the blink of an eye and no time at all.

Before she's ready, the lock on YN's door clicks and swings open, and a procession of women in the same simple uniform Yoonji wears file in.

"Good morning, Madam," one of the ladies says, "Master Taehyung has sent us to prepare you for your wedding."

YN just blinks at them, sighing. When it's clear that YN isn't going to move on her own, one of the other ladies moves to her bedside and pulls the cover off of her frame. Someone brings a silken robe and glides it over her skin, tying it tightly around her waist.

YN winces as the silk digs into her sore spot but no one notices. They all crowd around her, bringing her into the massive closet and sitting her down in from of a giant vanity. They buzz around her like worker bees, discussing lipstick colors and hairstyles with fervor. YN doesn't pay them any attention, doing to her mental happy place.

In her head, she's back at university, studying for her degree and blissfully unaware of just how cruel the world can be.

The women move her face side to side as they pluck and wax and moisturize before applying what feels like a pound of makeup to her face. A few of them work on a manicure and pedicure while one picks out some lacy lingerie.

"Oh, Master Taehyung picked a beautiful one," the main lady says.

"You're so lucky, Madam," a different one says, "Master Taehyung is so handsome. Money, power, and good looks? What more could a girl want?"

She is dusting eyeshadow over YN's eyelids with a featherlight touch. It would be relaxing if YN wasn't about to marry a psychopath.

"Would you like to take my place then?" YN says before she can stop herself.

Bitterness overflows as they talk about YN's upcoming marriage as if she's a princess who's fallen in love with a charming prince.

The women fall quiet and an awkward silence blankets the room. YN opens her eyes and looks into the mirror, locking eyes with a very unamused Taehyung. He's hovering in the doorframe with a deadly look on his face. He stalks deeper into the room and places a hand on YN's shoulder, his expression brightening up as he looks at his workers.

"I love YN's sense of humor," he says, chuckling, "Isn't she so funny?"

Everyone joins in with superficial laughter but YN is petrified with Taehyung's hand on her. He doesn't squeeze or dig his nails into her as she expects but she doesn't trust him whatsoever.

"Would you mind leaving me alone with my fiancee for a few moments?" Taehyung says, "I want to say a few words to her before the wedding."

Despite the pleading look in her eyes, all of the women leave the two of them alone, even going so far as to shut the closet door behind them.

Taehyung lifts YN's face to look at her, reveling in the look of terror in her eyes.

"You're so beautiful, YN," he says, "When you stupidly burst into your parents' kitchen like a fool, I just knew that I wanted you. You're going to be so fun to destroy."

His touch is deceptively gentle.

"Why are you doing this?" YN asks, unable to look away from his deep gaze.

"Because I can," he says, "Because you don't want this. Any of the women affiliated with this gang would bend over backward for the position you're about to be forced into and yet here you are, looking like you'd rather be anywhere else but here. What's life without a challenge?"

"I hate you," YN snaps, "I'll always hate you."

"That's perfectly fine by me, darling," Taehyung says, "Hate me as much as you want. Love doesn't exist here. As long as you do as I say, I don't care what you feel. As long as you know that you're mine, you can let your little heart turn black with hate."

He sinks his teeth into the lobe of her ear, causing YN to wince. He pulls away, a cocky look on his face.

"Piss me off and you know what happens. But don't worry, I'll never hurt you somewhere where other people will see."

He pushes away from the vanity and begins to walk back out of the closet.

"I'm sure you'll look beautiful in the dress I picked out, YN. I'll see you at the alter."

Taehyung is gone as quickly as he came and the annoying workers are back again, this time notably less chatty than before. They finish up her makeup and hair, smoothing away the small mistakes Taehyung had implemented and don't give her a stitch of privacy as they tie and buckle her into the most uncomfortable lingerie she's ever seen. The dress they pull out of a garment bag is not her taste whatsoever but she doesn't say anything. In a way, she's kind of glad. This wedding has nothing to do with her. All of her childhood fantasies seem a million miles away from this disaster.

The dress doesn't even fit. It's at least a size and a half too small but that doesn't stop them from shoving her into it, pulling on the laces until she can barely breathe. She can't even bend over to pull her shoes on.

Jungkook appears when they are all finished, wordless and stoic. He leads her out of the room and through what feels like a million hallways, YN's feet hurting in the incredibly tall heels she was put into. YN tries her best to memorize the map for future use (or maybe escape) but she gets so confused that she gives up. Something tells her that it's exactly what Jungkook was going for.

Surprisingly, they don't end up in some gigantic room in this mansion. Jungkook takes her to a garage, assisting her into the backseat and sitting beside her.

"Where are we going?" YN asks.

Jungkook doesn't answer.

For a moment, YN considers jumping out of the car. She knows she wouldn't even make it to the door before Jungkook snatches her. YN's eyes flick up to the front seat and she notices that the man driving is the same one as from before. She doesn't know his name but she doesn't have anything else to look at so she finds herself studying him through the rearview mirror. Unlike Jungkook who looks tough and stoic with his filled out form and dozens of tattoos, the driver looks soft - nearly pretty.

YN wonders how he ended up here. Is he just another wolf in disguise? Or maybe he's here in a similar situation to her, working off debt with labor.

As if he feels her eyes on him, the driver lifts his gaze and smiles at her ever so slightly, the very first inkling of kindness anyone has given her since this nightmare started. YN returns it, a small smile gracing her face.

The car pulls over in front of a small church, something much more subdued than she would have expected given the ridiculous place Taehyung and his family live in.

Jungkook helps her out of the car with an iron grip, preventing her from bolting. There's a small waiting room inside and a single woman in uniform is waiting for her with a beautiful bouquet that she shoves into her hands.

"Don't fuck up," Jungkook says again.

The church doors open.

Chapter Six

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Tag List

@dorerenjun @veronawrites @nervouskiwi @tatastaetae @naaji @sunshinechim-98 @hopefilledtrash @heystobitbeach @queensavage1245 @kofikats @lilacdreams-00 @naajix

#yandere bts #bts x reader #yandere taehyung #bts mafia au #bts gang au #bts angst #taehyung is a fucking narcissist

[alphacrone]

title: for better or for worse pairing(s): Zen & Kiki, Zen & Kiki & Mitsuhide tags: au - canon divergence, arranged marriage, manga spoilers summary:

In a world where Zen never meets Shirayuki, he is still expected to marry. Unfortunately, Kiki is the best choice among his suitors.

Or, Zen has many awkward conversations and realizes something about love.

-

Zen Wistalia, second prince of Clarines, was 20 years of age when his brother commanded him to marry. 

It wasn’t that Zen misliked women, or even that he had grand dreams of finding true love. But Zen had never been comfortable in the company of noble ladies, who did not share his interests in sword fighting and horseback riding through the mountains. He loved his mother dearly and looked up to Queen Haki like an older sister, but the only woman who’d ever truly understood him was Kiki and she, unfortunately, was not an option. 

“I don’t understand the issue,” Izana said, only the barest hint of frustration in his tone. “Lady Kiki is one of your closest aides and a dear friend, is she not? That is a better choice than most in our position ever have.” 

Zen clenched his jaw. “She is…” he hedged. 

“Then it is her appearance?” Izana continued, casting his eyes down to the papers on his desk. “She’s grown lovelier since the days of being mistaken for a boy. But perhaps you prefer a brunette, or something else entirely…” 

“Kiki is very beautiful,” Zen snapped, more out of habit than anything. He’d grown very protective of her when she first arrived at the palace, and there had been more than a few hushed comments on her boyish appearance. “That’s not the issue.” 

“Then, my dear brother,” Izana sighed, bringing a few slender fingers to press at his temples. “What is the issue? I thought, of all the acceptable candidates, Kiki would be the best option—no, the only option. You’ve refused marriage interviews with any other lady. Please.” He cast a tired gaze at Zen. “Enlighten me.” 

“She’s in love with Mitsuhide.” 

Zen smacked a hand over his mouth, horrified. He hadn’t meant to tell his brother anything of the sort. 

Izana blinked once. Twice. Then he closed his eyes and sighed. 

“Is that all?” 

“What?” Zen froze, mouth agape. “What do you mean? I couldn’t do that to her or Mitsuhide.” 

“What is it you would be doing to either of them?” Izana asked, idly picking up one of his papers and examining the contents. “It’s not as if they are ever going to marry.” 

Zen pinched the bridge of his nose. “You don’t know that! When Kiki returns to take her father’s place-” 

“Kiki has already proposed to Mitsuhide,” Izana said without looking away from the document, reaching out to grab a pen. “And he has already rejected her.” 

It was said, for many years later, that every soul within a mile radius of the palace heard Zen’s strangled cry that day.

“He did what?! ” Zen slammed his hands down on Izana’s desk, scattering papers everywhere. Izana glared at him. “Why did he- How could he- Why didn’t she tell me?!”

“I didn’t ask,” Izana said drily. “I was quite too busy discussing the logistics of an heir marrying a crown prince with her and Lord Seiran.” 

“Kiki knows about this ?!” Zen slammed his hands down again, knocking over an inkwell. Izana stood swiftly, righting the bottle and tossing a handkerchief onto the spilled ink to soak it up before it could stain his work. 

“Of course she does,” Izana snapped, tossing a few books to the ground, out of harm’s way. “Because, unlike you , she understands her duties to her family and to her country. If you are to ask for her hand in marriage, Lady Kiki Seiran is ready to accept.” 

The blood in his veins turned to ice and Zen’s hands went cold and numb. Kiki, the third friend he’d ever had, the only woman who’d ever treated him as a peer, was willing to marry him. For life! For her whole life, she’d- she’d what? Support him? Work beside him? Dance with him at balls and parties? She did all of those things already, usually with a sword in hand. Perhaps…

But there were other things that came with marriage, things that resulted in heirs . Zen’s face burned at the idea of seeing his friend naked, of doing... things with her. He’d never even kissed a girl before, and now he would have to- he shook his head to rid himself of the thought. 

“This is my ultimatum, Zen,” Izana said, voice heavy with an unleashed sigh.  “Either make Kiki your fiancé, or I will choose another woman for you.” 

Zen buried his face in his hands, too overcome to respond immediately. Finally, after a long, torturous moment of silence, he nodded. “Okay,” Zen whispered. “Alright. I’ll talk to Kiki.” 

Izana tilted back his head, shoulders drooping as if he’d just set down a heavy burden. “Thank you,” he said, and it sounded sincere. “I do think you will find happiness in each other.” 

“Thank you, brother,” Zen said. He thought of his sister-in-law, the way she threw everything she had into her duties, the way her eyes lit up when she caressed the growing roundness of her belly. Haki certainly had not been in love with Izana when they’d said their vows, but every day the two of them worked together to find small joys in their marriage. 

With a tense bow, Zen left the King’s office, hurrying away to his own wing of the palace. He needed to talk to Kiki, then yell at Mitsuhide, then- 

Zen huffed in frustration. Were he a coward, he’d have let his brother choose someone—anyone—else and live with the consequences. But Zen was too bullheaded to let his brother make that decision for him, and so his stubbornness would trump the terror he felt at the idea of asking Kiki to marry him. 

“Zen!” 

That voice...was not one Zen wanted to hear just now. He turned to see Mitsuhide approach and he felt all his earlier anger well up in him. 

“ You ,” he hissed. “You idiot !” 

Mitsuhide stopped in his tracks, hands raised in defense immediately. “What? What did I-”

“You-! Kiki proposed to you?!” Zen jabbed a finger in Mitsuhide’s face. “And you rejected her ?!” 

His aide’s eyes grew wide. “I-I-” He grimaced. “Yes. I did.” 

Zen stared at him until Mitsuhide averted his gaze. He knew the man before him could be thick at times, even downright stupid, but this …

“Don’t bully him, Zen. He’ll cry.” 

Startled, Zen jumped as Kiki approached, face far too placid for someone approaching the man who’d turned her down and the man who was reluctantly planning to propose. Zen frowned. “I think he deserves to cry a little.” 

“You know, I asked King Izana to let me tell you about this,” she said with a sigh. “I assume you’ve just come from speaking with him?” 

“Yeah,” Zen said. “I, uh. I think we need to talk?” Despite himself, Zen felt his face turning pink. Mitsuhide clearly noticed, because the fear in his eyes turned to concern. 

“Is everything okay?” he asked, looking between Zen and Kiki. 

Kiki nodded, still far too stoic. “Zen is going to propose to me, I believe.” 

The silence that fell was staggering. Zen’s face burned like he’d stuck his head in an oven. Mitsuhide’s eyes grew comically large. Kiki, the demon she apparently was, had the gall to smile, just a little. 

“Y-y-you-” Mitsuhide sputtered. “P-p-pro-pro-pose?”

Kiki looked at Zen. “Am I mistaken? The King seemed certain you’d choose me over a stranger.” 

“I…” Zen rubbed at his forehead. “I didn’t imagine Mitsuhide would be here for this conversation.” 

“Really?” Kiki looked genuinely surprised. “I imagined he would be here for every step of our marriage.” 

Despite his better judgement, Zen asked, “ Every step?” 

That, it seemed, was the straw that broke the camel’s back. Kiki’s impassive stare turned dark. Mitsuhide doubled over, hyperventilating. The hallway was suspiciously devoid of staff.

“That’s not what I meant!” Zen exclaimed, gripping at his hair. “I just- fuck .” 

“Maybe I should leave the two of you to talk,” Kiki said, slapping Mitsuhide on the back as he struggled for air. 

“No,” Zen groaned. He could feel a headache forming in the base of his skull. “No, you and I need to talk about this.” 

“What is there to discuss?” Kiki asked. “It would be mutually beneficial for us to marry. Your brother and my father approve. We don’t hate each other. It seems logical.” 

“Don’t you find it weird?” Zen asked, his voice shooting up an octave. Next to him, Mitsuhide was still wheezing, so Zen joined Kiki in pounding on the man’s back. “The idea of marrying me ?” 

“Not particularly,” Kiki said with a shrug. “I’ve always known I would probably need to marry for political benefit, not love. Since my love belongs to Mitsuhide, who can’t return it, then I’d rather marry someone I care about than someone I don’t.” 

The sound Mitsuhide made sounded like a cross between a dying cat and breaking steel. Zen sighed and moved to rubbing comforting circles in Mitsuhide’s back. 

“Okay, but what about the...intimate parts of marriage? Heirs will be expected…” 

“Zen.” Kiki cast him an incredulous look. “Did no one prepare you for that when you were younger? Does Mitsuhide need to give you the talk? He can explain how it works.” 

“I know how it works!” Zen protested. “But isn’t it weird, doing it with someone you don’t...love? Love like that?” 

“I have three cousins, all girls,” Kiki said, hand stilling on Mitsuhide’s back. “All of them married much younger than me, all to strangers. They all have children now. As nobles, we are raised with the understanding that we will have to copulate with someone for whom we bear no feelings.” 

Shame and embarrassment stung the back of Zen’s throat. “So you...aren’t scared?” 

Kiki’s gaze softened. “Of course not. It’s you .” 

“ I’m scared,” Zen admitted, pouting a little. “I don’t want to ruin our friendship.” 

“Aww…” Mitsuhide cooed. Zen smacked the back of his head, causing him to fall to the ground. 

“It would take more than sex to do that, Zen,” Kiki said drily. 

Zen looked down at his feet. “You’re right,” he said. “But things will change.” 

“They will,” she agreed. “But then, they always do.” 

Zen swallowed back his worries and smiled, genuinely. Then, unceremoniously shoving Mitsuhide out of the way, he bent down on one knee, reaching out for Kiki’s hand. She gave it to him, returning his smile. 

“Kiki Seiran, would you do me the pleasure of becoming my wife?” 

“Why Prince Zen,” she deadpanned. “I thought you’d never ask.” 

Zen pinched her arm in retaliation, then placed a chaste kiss to the back of her hand.  Kiki turned her grip to haul him back to two feet, and they stood there for a moment, hands clasped in a familiar gesture of comradery.  This was what their relationship was built on: trust, loyalty, and years watching each others’ backs. If it was like this , Zen thought, then maybe marriage wasn’t so scary. 

A loud, watery sniff came from the floor, and both turned to see Mitsuhide watching them with emotional, teary eyes. “You guys ,” he said, then pulled them both into a tight hug. “You’re both- Zen, you’re so grown .”

“Oh, don’t even ,” Zen sniped, trying to wriggle free. “I’m still angry with you. Kiki, did he make you cry? Be honest with me, I’ll put him to work in the stables if he did.” 

Kiki cast a look between the two men. “I did find myself getting a little misty-eyed, now that you mention it.” 

Mitsuhide gasped. “You did not -” Then grunted as Zen pulled him into a chokehold. “ Kiki- help-” 

“Oh, no,” Kiki said. “I consider this a wedding present from my fiancé. I’d like to see how this fight ends.” 

Zen laughed and let Mitsuhide break his grip, then yelped as the older man lifted him off the ground. Kiki hid a smile behind her hand, watching her closest friends wrestle, and Zen felt a weight lift from his chest. 

It wasn’t a storybook romance, this love of theirs; it wasn’t a romance at all. But when Zen was with Kiki and Mitsuhide his world was soft and warm and safe. These were his friends, the people he loved most in the world, and while their dynamics would change and relationships would grow, this —the family he’d found for himself—would be the only love story he’d ever need. 

#x-posting from ao3 #kiki & zen #akagami no shirayukihime #akagami no shirayukihime fanfiction #akagami no shirayukihime spoilers #manga spoilers specifically #idiots being idiots

[pinkbubbles-and-bigtroubles]

Colour Me In (Part 8)

Kevin was cracking up at the video Eliza was showing him. Calum and her step dad, Phillip, had decided to play a little one on one football in the backyard before they ate dinner. It was friendly but competitive. Keven watched as Calum kicked the ball around her step dad's ankles while Phillip tried to fake him out. Calum was smug until Phillip swooped back around stealing the ball and scoring with ease before he could react. Clapping Calum on the back Phillip laughed, “those cigarettes, my boy, they slow you down, I'm an old man, that's my excuse.”

“You're not old, and you're Brazilian. That's a natural advantage from birth,” Calum teased him.

Phillip had been much easier to win over. He was friendly and outgoing, making everyone here meet feel like an old friend. He and Calum had quickly started chatting about music and football. As a child, Phillip had played in his family's band, his dad having a decently popular career as a singer/variety show host on Spanish language television. After his father died, his mother had brought them to the U.S. opening her own restaurant with the kids as entertainment on the weekends. He had a lot in common with Calum and Eliza had been relieved.

“Even better,” she told Kevin, “between Pops and Alex monopolizing Calum, Mama had a hard time pinning him down. She did ask about the tattoos and life on the road, and she didn't look happy when he told her they had a tour coming up.”

“Ooooh you didn't tell me he was going on tour“ Kevin shot her a look.

“It's no one's business, besides you know how busy we've both been. Yeah he's gonna leave in two weeks and be gone for four months. I hate it, I hate it so much, but this is what he does. It's just part of being with him.” Eliza sighed, sad just thinking about it.

“You guys aren't breaking up are you?” Kevin looked devastated at the thought.

“What? No!!! Don't even think that asshole,” Eliza almost smacked him. “We're gonna text, and video chat, but I worry a little bit. I mean he'll be on the road with his friends, girls everywhere, and I know it's got to be killing him.” She blushed and looked away, embarrassed to talk about it even with Kevin. They'd been dating a little over two months now and still hadn't had sex, or really much past some steamy makeout sessions in the car or on Calum's couch. She knew it was out of character for him to go without for so long. He hadn't complained once, but Eliza worried he would get tired of waiting.

“Bitch will you stop worrying, Calum clearly adores you. He's hanging out with your family, teaching Alex guitar, learning how to deal with Maggie's hyper ass, and Mama even invited him back a third time. He's learning another language just to talk to you. You've got this boy whipped and it's obvious to everyone. The thots are still mad at you,” Kevin dissolved into laughter.

He was so glad Eliza had come up to Santa Barbara for a few days. His mother had suffered a series of strokes and his siblings, despite being in her life and in her pockets, had not been able to find the time to handle the crisis. Kevin, the youngest, the one she'd thrown out of her house at the age of fifteen, was left to set up her care and sign papers after being granted power of attorney. For almost two weeks he'd dealt with it alone before begging Eliza to come up and save his sanity. They'd spent an entire first day just shopping and gossiping. This morning they had hit up a fancy bistro for breakfast and then a spa mani/pedis. Currently they were sprawled out on the couch at Kevin's mother's house talking about boys, per usual, before Kevin had to meet his mom's lawyer at 2pm.

She felt guilty that she'd let her best friend go through so much by himself. Eliza felt she'd been neglecting their friendship for Calum, but Kevin insisted he understood.

“If I had a man like that in my life, you might only hear from me on Christmas and your mama's birthday,” Kevin cracked himself up. “Maybe Maggie,” he added “how is my little troublemaker anyways? Sad she's finally losing you to a man?”

Eliza snorted, “not hardly, she's thrilled she has someone new to pester. Not only that she and Calum really hit it off, and she's taken improving his sign language as a personal mission.”

Eliza's phone buzzed. “She must know we're talking about her,” she laughed checking her messages. Her face fell and Kevin knew it was bad news.

“Oh no” she mouthed staring at the screen as tears filled her eyes.

Kevin, impatient, snatched the phone from her hands. “Oh shit, oh my poor baby,” he put this hand up to his throat and looked at Eliza.

I just got the email and apparently all that work was for nothing. I didn't get the internship at the U.N., I'm not going to NYC. I actually tried really hard on this and I don't know why they didn't pick me.  So right now I feel like a complete failure, and I'm stuck here for the summer instead of having my own life across the country.

"Oh shit, we're going into Maggie meltdown mode," Kevin was alarmed, "she's never dealt well with disappointment."

"The danger of being a gifted child. Most things come easy for her. Anything that doesn't she just applies herself to with stellar results every single time. Usually the only time Maggie doesn't get what she wants is from Mama or me" Eliza knew how much her sister had been counting on this, and how devastated she must be.

"Mama has her hands full with that one, but she knows how to deal with Mags when she gets like this," Kevin reassured her, but Eliza shook her head.

"Nope, Pops took Mama and Alex up to SF for the weekend. Alex has that gaming convention and they're looking at a couple properties," Eliza didn't want Maggie to be stuck home alone with nothing but her anxiety and Oliver for company.

"It's ok if you gotta go back," Kevin signed, Eliza could tell he was disappointed but his concern for Maggie won out.

Kevin checked traffic and it wasn't hard to lip read "ooh you're FUCKED."

There was a fiery multi car fatality crash on the 101 that had traffic backed up for miles. It was going to turn a 2 hour drive into an epic quest. Eliza texted Maggie back as she tried to figure out what to do.

Maggie was curled up on the couch with Oliver having cried herself out. Her mind was racing and doubt was gnawing on her soul. What if she wasn't as smart as she liked to think she was. What if she was wasting her time trying to go for a career in diplomacy or government. What if her father was right about going into the corporate world where her knowing five languages would put her in high demand. Why didn't they pick her? Did she do something wrong? Was she just not good enough?

She knew she was making herself crazy, she knew it was unhealthy to do so, but she couldn't stop her brain from spinning. Her eyes were stinging, her throat was sore and she could feel a headache coming on. Oliver gave wonderful snuggles, and when she sat up he climbed right back in her lap. Maggie loved the little guy, but right now she really wanted someone there with her. Eliza would have headed straight back from Kevin's mother's house, but the best they could hope for her return was late that night with traffic as backed up as it was. With any luck Kevin might come with her, her sister was her support but Kev was always good for a laugh.

There was a knock at the door. Oliver began barking and Maggie was confused because no one should be at her door. The knocking continued, getting louder, and now she was getting a little scared. Sure it was early afternoon and they lived in a decent neighborhood, but she was home alone with a stranger at her door and nothing to protect her besides a four legged floof.

She peeked through the blinds and gasped when she saw the car. She ran to the door, with Oliver in hot pursuit, flinging it open to find a very familiar face.

“Calum? What the hell are you doing here?” Maggie was baffled, but genuinely curious. Calum had to know Eliza was with Kevin, and even if she'd told him she was coming back early that wasn't even two hours ago.

Calum grinned at her, “Eliza was upset about you being home alone right now. With her stuck in Santa Barbara I thought I'd come check on you and see if you wanted to grab lunch. I even brought Duke along if you needed extra convincing,” opening his leather jacket and handing her his dog. Maggie squealed as she got kisses from Duke before she gave it to Oliver's begging and put him down so they could say hello.

“My sister sent you to check on me,” Maggie raised an eyebrow but she was smiling again.

“Not exactly,” he admitted. “She texted me because she was upset about traffic and not being able to get back down here. She then had to explain why she was coming back. I have nothing to do today until later this evening with the guys. I was gonna get some food so I thought I'd scoop you up to go with me. It's better than sitting home alone isn't it?”

“Can you give me a bit to get ready?” Maggie asked and Calum nodded bending down to pick up the ball Oliver dropped at their feet.

If you see pics of me out on a date with your boyfriend just know I'm using him to get to Luke Hemmings

WTF Maggie??

Wait did Calum come over?

Yes we're going to lunch and taking the dogs. He didn't want you to worry about me being home alone.

Awwww that's sweet, but now I have to worry about what you two are gonna talk about

Eliza glanced up at Kevin who had been reading the conversation over her shoulder.

“As you should, but I think it's funny” Kevin signed and Eliza flipped him off.

I'll try not to say anything too embarrassing, but I'm not sure about him lol

Don't make me hurt you Mags

I'd like to see you try....TTYL

"The bread here is amazing," Maggie told him as they were seated on the patio. "I don't know if I want chicken or eggplant today, but both are really good."

Calum noticed Maggie wasn't as talkative and her smiles were still a bit forced.

"Order both if you like," Calum told her. "Let me guess you can probably order in fluent Italian?"

Maggie shook her head. "I only know bits and bobs of French and Italian. I'm sure I'll pick it up eventually."

"You know what… Four languages? Same as your sister"

"Five… English, Spanish, Portuguese, Farsi and ASL. Eliza can read all but Spanish quite well, but it's not the same."

"How so?"

"She misses out on things, like when Mama is singing in Portuguese and her accent changes, or the rumble in my father's voice on certain words or phrases."

"Eliza doesn't talk much about your father," Calum raised his eyebrows, hoping she'd keep going. He didn't want to pry into something that always seemed like a touchy subject.

"They're not close really, they write letters back and forth, but there's an awkwardness between them. They split when I was five and Eliza was seven. Baba and Mama both blamed themselves for Eliza's illness and subsequent disability. She became overprotective and he became distant. We moved to the US in the middle of the separation/divorce while he stayed in the UK. He would call and I would usually be the one to answer the phone, and that's how we stayed in touch. As I got older he'd call when Mama wasn't home and we'd always speak in Farsi so that's my official third language. I've been signing since I can remember talking so those go hand in hand…. No pun intended." Maggie finally smiled a real smile as they brought the bread and dipping oils.

Calum nodded chuckling as he tried the basil and garlic infused olive oil. The bread was delicious and he told Maggie she should order for him.

"Can we get a mozzarella caprese instead of salad, I'll have chicken picatta and I think he'll like the spaghetti carbonara with pancetta,"  Maggie looked at Calum who shrugged and nodded.

"So tell me about Phillip and Alex," he picked the conversation back up.

"Mama met Pops when I was eight or nine, they both were in real estate and my understanding is that's how they met. He's got a wild family background to say the least. His mother was a former Miss World who had married a Mexican singer she'd met only two months prior at a charity event. They had four children in quick succession before gaining their own variety show in the early 80's. It all fell apart when his dad was murdered for supporting the wrong candidate, or at least that's what the family believes. Anyways they met, married and Alex came around about a year later," Maggie spoke in rapid fire bursts playing with her hands and drumming her fingers.

"Ok now I get to ask a question," Maggie turned those huge deep brown eyes directly on him. "Are you really the player Kevin says you are?"

Calum was a bit shocked but decided to roll with it. "Wow really going in hard right off the bat Maggie  Yeah,I was, I hate to admit it."

"If you were enjoying yourself then, why do you feel bad now? Were you just waiting for a good girl?" Maggie's tone was light almost teasing.

"You sound like the guys," he rolled his eyes at her, "I get teased endlessly about her you know? I wasn't waiting for anything or anyone. This all just happened. I'm just as surprised as anyone."

"So then why haven't you made a move on Eliza? What are you waiting for?" Maggie knew her sister would kill her for this, but she was so sick of listening to Eliza pout and worry about not being up to Calum's "standards."

"Seriously?" Calum was irritated. "Why would you ask me that?"

"Because she thinks she's doing something wrong…. She's afraid of what's going to happen when you go on this tour, that you might be tempted out of frustration."

Calum's face softened when he saw Maggie's worried and fearful expression. She continued, "listen I know I'm nosy and have no filter, but she really really likes you." Maggie grabbed his hand, "I know you really like her too, but you haven't tried to get with her or introduced your girlfriend to any of your friends."

"I thought you were sad… Where did this interrogation come from?" Calum needed to think about that. The guys were dying to meet Eliza but the idea scared him to death.

"Honestly, I'll have to think about that, it's not that I don't find her beautiful. Wanting her isn't the problem, but I don't want to scare her."

"I am sad, but you're providing a decent distraction. Besides how often am I going to get a chance to be nosy without my sister interrupting?" Maggie grinned at him and he smiled back.

"Why don't you come with me after lunch? We'll go pick up Luke and you can meet the guys. Maybe you'll see why I've waited."

"Finally" she exclaimed at the sight of the waiter with their pasta as well as the invitation. "I'm starving and I've been waiting this whole time just to meet Luke."

@kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @wildhearthood @cal-puddies @calumh-excess @biba3434 @babygirlcashton @angelbabylu @itstheholls @calteahood @5sos-ficssmut @cal-pal-cuddles @1dthewantedlove

any and all feedback is appreciated more than you could know

#calum hood #colour me in #deaf #eliza #asl #calum 5sos #5sos calum #calum hood imagine #calum hood blurb #calum hood fanfiction #5sos #calum imagine #5sos imagine #5sos fanfic #5sos blurb #calum fic

[romancevsreality-blog]

the bachelorette, season fourteen, episode four: welcome to heteronormative summer camp!

This season is a car wreck, and not the good kind.

I know, I know. “Amanda, is there ever a good car wreck?” I don’t know, ask Holly Hunter and James Spader in Cronenberg Crash how they feel about that1. Ask insurance companies! They would know!

No, this season is a car wreck because not only are the men absolutely wretched - who would have thought we could get worse than the combination of Chad, Chase, Robb(ie) and Dean - but Becca is basically a nonfactor, and production DGAF about spoilers and the casting of literal sex offenders. This has all resulted in some of the most boring television I have ever had the displeasure of viewing.

But alas, I do it for y’all.

The episode opens up right before the third cocktail party, and those without roses are terrified. David / Chicken Man literally fell out of a bunk bed because this show has so many similarities to summer camp. Speaking of, Clay, who is a professional football player, hurt his wrist so badly he had to leave the show. This is the most fucked up summer camp ever, and we haven’t even gotten to Paradise yet.

Ugh. Paradise. Remember back when Paradise was the best part of my summer2?

Star of the Floptastic Fantastic Four, Miles Teller, takes Becca aside to make her feel better after Clay’s departure. And that conversation means talking about the number of kids you want! That’s totally how I relax. Blake wants 3-5 kids, which Becca reacts the same way I do - COMPLETE AND UTTER HORROR. Men always want a bunch of fuckin’ kids because they don’t have to do the work. They don’t have a parasite that feeds on your nutrients for nine months, then you EXPEL that parasite from your body and you’re expected to take care of that parasite for the rest of your lifetime, including using your body to feed them for a while afterwards. Like, it’s a vagina - not a clown car. I fully intend to approach pregnancy as “That Really Cool Thing I Only Want To Do Once, Maybe Twice, Just For The Shits And Gigs of It All.” I can’t wait for my kids to read this blog.

Becca wants to name her daughter “Stevie”, which… I’m not even going to get started on that one. No, wait, I’m going to. I am totally pro-gender neutral names3, but STEVIE? Stevie. You are robbing your child of an adult name if you name them Stevie. No one trusts a 45 year old named Stevie. They both also agree with “Charlie”, which is cute as a shortened version of Charles or Charlotte. I am not calling anyone named Charlie Charlie after the age of 23. Charlie is a fuckboy4. They make out after baby talk, which is not what it sounds like.

Jordan is relishing in David falling out of his bed, and Jordan believes that God willed David’s hospital visit into the universe. Is this what I sound like when I talk about willing shit into existence? I’m going to stop ASAP. Anyway, Jordan, despite being happy David is gone, doesn’t even think it matters - he can woo Becca in 5 minutes as well as he can in 30. Premature ejaculation is common in the Haus of Jordan. He goes off on some nonsense about wearing a tie but not wearing a tie so Becca can get a read on him?

Jordan is doing some Nathaniel Hawthorne-esque symbolism through sartorial choices and I would watch an entire series of Jordan trying to tell women how he feels about them using his clothes rather than his words. Becca presents Jordan with a pair of golden lame hot pants, and Jordan takes that as being the Golden Boy and that Becca clearly thinks his junk is gold. Seriously. Someone greenlight this series.

David comes back while this is occurring, and he looks a fucking wreck. Black eye, nose all banged up - David done fucked himself right up. Jordan acts like David can do anything about the way he looks with his broken nose. Becca does her due diligence and takes him aside, and she tells him how handsome he looks. Becca, you’re trying it. David schmoozes the FUCK out of Becca about how happy he is to be back and how this hurt more to leave her than him. Jordan, still banking on his looks and his looks alone, is completely focused on how terrible David looks. Jordan’s confident he’s getting a rose tonight and David will get sent home simply because of what he looks like.

Jordan is such a delusional monster, but he’s literally not even the worst person there.

Becca, being a saint, offers David a rose because there’s no way David can stand through a 4-6 hour Rose Ceremony.I feel like this is the one form of compassion we’re going to see from these people this season. David relishes in the fact that he gets to show off his bruised face AND his rose to Jordan, and skips off to bed.

And then, David goes, “Hey Jordan, what’s up?” and Jordan is so butt hurt about it.

We head into the Rose Ceremony. Chris, Colton, and David already have roses, so they don’t have to worry about a damn thing.

Jason / Andrew Keegan, Wills, Nick, Christon, Lincoln (BOOOOOOOOOO), Blake, Garrett, Leo, Venmo John, Connor (I think?), Jordan, and Jean Blanc Ralphio are all recipients of this week’s roses.

Bye, Mystery Hottie Ryan and Man Bun Mike. We literally never knew anything about you guys.

Oh, and we’re going to a winter wonderland. We’re off to Park City, Utah4! I wonder if they’re going to leave the country after Lincoln’s eliminated because they can’t travel with a felon!

Someone at the styling team really hates Becca because they put her in a bright red puffer jacket that must have been taken from the set of A Christmas Story: The Musical, LIVE! from last December. Hopefully that’s the closest Pasek and Paul make it to this disaster of a show, but knowing ABC, they’ll find a way. We learn that Garrett, who I hate, gets the one-on-one date.

Assuming they filmed this in February/March, making Garrett and Becca walk the streets of Park City could be considered cruel and unusual punishment. It definitely looks like one of those days that you think it’s warm because of the sun, but a breeze comes through and you think you’ve been slapped in the face. I don’t miss the cold. Becca brings Garrett to a an alpaca shop, which is not what I expected to be. Less alpacas, more sweaters. Becca sees her dad in Garrett, and honestly, this girl got her heart broken on national TV and doesn’t have a dad and clearly is going to look like that in a person.

And then we learn that Lincoln is a flat earther.

Okay, so Lincoln is:

Slimy

Rumored to have issues pooping in public

An actual convicted sexual assaulter

A FUCKING FLAT EARTHER?

AND HE’S BLACK???????????????

I hate being like “Man, this guy is making it look bad for everyone”, but I feel like if my friend Rae, who is also a Nigerian-American, heard any of this stuff about Lincoln, she would find him and chop his head off. He is making Nigerians look bad, and this is after Jackie Aina falsely accused another YouTuber of international bank fraud. Lincoln is worse than accusing someone of international bank fraud.

All the men are looking at him like he’s bonkers. He literally cannot fathom the idea of friction, gravity, or astrophysics. He invites an astrophysicist, the primary viewing group of The Bachelorette, to discuss it over hot chocolate.

I don’t even want to acknowledge Lincoln as a person anymore. Is he gone yet?

Back at the house, we hear Venmo John speak for the first time all season, and it turns out he has a weird voice. Is that mean? He’s talking with Jean Blanc Ralphio, who basically is this season’s anxiety bomb - he just needs to take a deep breath and chill out.

Garrett and Becca take a ski slope up to the top of a bobsledding track, and honestly, I really wish that they had just superimposed footage from Cool Runnings over this entire scene. We meet Shauna Rohbok and Valerie Fleming, who are silver medalists at the US Bobsled team, who also happen to be married to each other. My favorite part is Garrett putting two and two together than these two women are married to each other and that lesbianism isn’t a thing pornography made up and pretending to be super cool with that5.

Cue bobsledding montage.

Becca and Garrett sit down to “dinner”, and Becca immediately compares him to her dad. Garrett’s like “thanks dawg,” and then Becca’s like “okay, time to talk about your former relationships! Time to unveil your deepest personal traumas to me, this camera crew, and the rest of America!” Of course Garrett got married and divorced young - less than three years from dating to divorce, god damn - and he thinks it was to the Wrong Person. She was emotionally abusive and isolated him from the rest of his family, and he was the first member of his family to get divorced so he has Baggage. I mean, I still hate him. But that’s still unfortunate. Garrett reaffirms he’s there For Becca and he wants it to work for them, and that gets him a rose, and a dance in front of a band and a live audience. Again, do we ever hear from these bands again? Or the audience members, at that?

Back at the house, there’s a....

DATE CAAAAAAARD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Jordan, Chris, Star of War Dogs Miles Teller, Nick, John, Lincoln, Leo, David, Connor (I Think?), Christon, Colton, and Jean Blanc Ralphio are on the date card, which means My Boyfriend Wills is going on the other one-on-one date this week. And a ton of the dudes in the room are P I S S E D about that.

The guys all go to join Becca, who is wearing her best Lumberjack Chic outfit in a wheat field that’s somehow not covered in snow. Are they sure this is really Utah? They’re literally having a lumberjack bash, because… this show has a budget of $15 an episode, and they spent half of it on bobsledding lessons. They are literally going to throw axes and chop wood, because heteronormative activities on an arbitrary scale of masculinity is a great way to measure a man’s ability to be a good husband. Jean Blanc Ralphio, Frat Fink6 and He Who Shall Not Be Named are both disasters at chopping wood. I literally cannot be bothered to write anything positive about this because I do not understand the POINT. At some point the guys are literally lifting and pushing over logs?

This would never work for me. The guys, to make things worse, are split into teams to do a relay for Becca’s heart. There’s a ton of “separating the men from boys” things going on, and I thought that was determined by age and maturity, not by… being able to climb a 30 foot tall log. Maybe that’s just me? The final competition boils down to Venmo John vs Star of the Divergent Series, Miles Teller, and in a shocking twist, Venmo comes in first, and he gets a golden axe7.

If they wanted a date where the men wore plaid, I would much rather have all of them do their best Kurt Cobain impressions in a “grunge themed” group date. I had a much more insensitive punchline to that joke, so I’m just going to leave it at that for now.

It’s time for the After-After-After-After-After Party, and the first person to take Becca aside is Jason / Andrew Keegan, and basically he just talks about how nice it was to see Becca having fun. That’s it. He’s nervous because he cares about Becca so he’s finding it hard to be aloof, and agrees to just embrace that. Okay.

Is Jason working on me? Oh my god. He sounds genuine when he says this. NOOOOOOO, DO NOT LET ME FALL FOR ANDREW KEEGAN’S CULT!!!8 Colton tells Becca he’s been in love before, and this dude is a virgin who’s been in love? What the fuck? Jordan is wearing the hot pants Becca gave him under his clothes, and honestly, Aaron Samuels wishes. He takes off his pants to show her and kiss Becca, and she literally tells him she can’t take him seriously before sashaying away to the other men on the couch.

Jesus, Jordan is annoying. Colton and Frat Fink are irritated especially, and is the next to join the Jordan is Not Here for the Right Reasons camp. They think his behavior is disrespectful, and Colton wants his shenanigans to be over. Jordan asks if Colton thinks Jordan should be tired of all these men taking him aside to talk to him, and Colton’s like “yeah… because you’re annoying, dude.” He calls Jordan a motherfucker, a clown, all kinds of things. Colton calls himself “One of the Good Guys”, something I can certifiably say is unlikely to be true. Jordan is harmless and Becca clearly doesn’t see him as a real option, so this is all unnecessary.

Jean Blanc Ralphio takes Becca side to present her with a perfume, and it is at this moment that I realize his FIRST AND LAST NAME is Jean Blanc. This entire time I thought Jean Blanc was his first and middle name and I let out an entirely involuntary “THIS IS WHY WE CAN’T HAVE NICE THINGS.” at my office. The perfume is called “Miss Becca Blanc,” which is so weird. We don’t even find out what it smells like before Jean Blanc Ralphio tries to exchange the perfume for a kiss, which Becca is not about. She can smell something unpleasant in the air, and it’s not JBR’s cologne - it’s Desperation, by Calvin Klein. At this time, Leo comes in to interrupt9 and that basically starts Jean Blanc Ralphio on a shame spiral. He wants to turn that frown upside dizity, but he doesn’t know how.

He decides to take life by the balls and interrupt Lincoln’s time with Becca. He wants to affirm how he feels about Becca, and tells her that he’s falling in love with her.

Basically, this is Jean Blanc Ralphio:

Becca’s response:

Me, at home:

Also Me:

Becca doesn’t know anything about this person, or what brought on these feelings so quickly, but Becca is overwhelmed. Not just whelmed. She’s not even close to the same page, they’re in separate chapters. It may feel like it’s been a year, but it’s the fourth episode, Jean Blanc Ralphio. You feel NOTHING except a mild erection, and Becca’s allowed to not want you there anymore because she thinks your feelings are deeper than hers and she doesn’t know if she can get there with you. Becca asks if she can walk him out.

Jean Blanc Ralphio asks about his gift on his way out, and Becca offers to give it back. Uh, Becca? It was a gift. Likely it’s water with food coloring in it and a Microsoft Word label, he doesn’t need it back. And that’s when Jean Blanc Ralphio digs his grave.

Basically, Jean Ralphio expected to give Becca a gift and that would get her so aroused and turned on that she would fall madly in love with him straight away, and confessing his love to her was simply a tactic, not his actual sentiment. He fully admits to basically saying that because he wanted to stay there and because he thought that’s what she wanted from him. Uh, this girl just had her heart shattered on national TV from a dude’s insincerity, it’s the exact OPPOSITE of what she wants right now. Becca is so mad and basically shoves him out the door. Becca goes to talk to the other dudes in pure anger, and cancels the rest of the night. No one’s getting the group date rose.

The next day, My Boyfriend Wills has been prepped with the knowledge that Becca had a hard night the night before. Everyone saw Becca’s genuine, real anger the night before, and they have all realized Rebecca ain’t no one to fuck with. Becca’s an emotional mess from the night before still, and she feels weird.

Probably because you haven’t dealt with having your heart broken on national television, Rebecca.

My Boyfriend Wills approaches Becca in the snow, and he gives her a huge hug. They both talk about not wanting to talk about what happened the previous night, so of course that’s going to be the main focus on the evening. They’re going to go on snowmobiles so they don’t have to talk about anything, and Becca has a wonky eyelash. They have a snowball fight, My Boyfriend Wills has an ASMR voice, and it’s all pretty wonderful. They go to dinner, and Wills reveals that his Deep Romantic Trauma is from his ex-girlfriend wanting to open up their relationship and him not being game for that. He refers to this as a “Hall Pass”, which implies that it’s less wanting Openness, but her looking for an excuse to cheat. But Wills isn’t afraid of commitment whatsoever, he’s afraid of not being Enough.

Oh, Wills. I get that.

But that honesty and respect for Becca gets Wills a rose. Yas, My Boyfriend Wills.

Back at the house, the dudes who got fucked over by Jean Blanc’s fuckery cutting the group date short - Nick and Connor (I think?) - and Chris Harrison comes by for five seconds to reveal that Becca knows her choices and there isn’t going to be a cocktail party that evening, it’s going straight to the Rose Ceremony. Nick and Connor (I think?) are upset and fucked up about this.

Becca:

It’s time for the Rose Ceremony.

Leo, Colton, Blake, Jason, Connor (I think?), He Who Shall Not Be Named, John, Frat Fink, David, and Jordan get roses. Bye Nick, Bye Christon10. Jordan is shook he’s in last place, even though he’s been there before.11

Oh, and we’re off to Vegas!

Next Week: Tons of Vegas references! The Bellagio fountain! Becca is feeling amazing! Frat Fink is this guy’s “what about my attention? I’m better than these guys!” And David vs. Jordan in the desert for my favorite part of the season - the two-on-one.

See you then!

Random Assessments from the Desk of Amanda:

I’m so mad my hottie mystery banjo boyfriend is a MAGAhead, I cannot.

Oh my god, not only is Jordan’s identity Being Ridiculously Good-Looking, he also feels the need to bring up his crotch enough that I’m genuinely worried he might really be a Ken Doll down there.

The only good part of this week’s group date was the butts. Oh my god, the butts.

Seriously, was this season lit with the Benjamin Franklin’s lightbulb?

Okay, but god BLESS Jean Blanc Ralphio for having a name but also providing me with the opportunity to look at a bunch of gifs of  my Future Husband Ben Schwartz for this recap. #soloboloforevolo

I love that My Boyfriend Wills has a sweatshirt with his name on it.

Has the Rose Ceremony order always had the implication of favor? I didn’t know it was an official ranking of where you are to the lead.

Super Telling Of How Terrible This Season Is: this episode didn’t get a “funny behind the scenes moment featuring the guys while the credits roll” scene.

Or if you’re my mother, ask James Spader in general - she has this weird theory he’s a weirdo and it’s my favorite thing. Like, she cannot deduce whether he’s a weird person or he’s really, really good at playing weird characters. I love his sliminess. ↩︎

Now it’s Claws. Are you watching Claws? You should be fucking watching Claws, god damn it. It's on Hulu! Get on it! ↩︎

Hi Jordan! ↩︎

Fun Fact: for years, I thought Park City was named because they had an Olympic Park there. Text STOP to stop useless facts about my life! ↩︎ ↩︎

My other favorite part? Shauna Rohbok is a lesbian Mormon. ↩︎

My friends call Chris Rat Fink, but I think Frat Fink is an even better variation because he totally was the gross frat guy in college. ↩︎

Something tells me Jordan is having a conniption somewhere. ↩︎

Then again, it would be the biggest compliment to be hot enough to be offered a spot in this cult. ↩︎

He is so shrouded in darkness and his hair I literally had to guess based on a floral print and a voice who this is. It could have been anyone. ↩︎

God, I hope Christon makes it into paradise and they bring back Scallop Fingers / Christen / Krysten / Kiersten and we get their names confused. ↩︎

He also compares himself to a sponge, and Monet X Change would like a FUCKING WORD. ↩︎

#the bachelorette #the bachelorette recap #god this season sucks #drag race 10 isn't much better? #but at least we got #monet x change #and #monique heart #who are literal goddesses #these men can take note from them #okay? #let's do the damn thing #i've said that phrase so many times lately #and i hate myself every time #EVERY TIME #jean ralphio

[lord-dusk]

Jurassic Emblem-Chapter 13

The story’s getting hot and thirsty guys ^u^ You might want to spray your genetic material at pregnancy art every once in a while reading. Enjoy!

  Lucina was not surprised to hear that the next Aberrant Forms to target next were located in Ylisse. When she and Blue had returned to Askr, beaten up Teba and Warbler and threw back into their cells alongside Basilice, Commander Anna had announced to the raptors that their next mission will bring them to the Exalted Princess’s home country. This time, Lucina decided to have her daddy watch over the mercs and bring along the raptor squad. And Ryukami decided to lounge in the fish pond after several days of swimming in the open ocean.

  When  Chrom’s ex-wife Grima was righteously turned into a Wal-Mart store, the now King of Ylisse had declared open desertification to the already dry conditions of his country. He figured that by rendering his land inhospitable, neighboring countries would have no reason to invade. Indeed, when the local residents uprooted native grasses and drained the rivers, even goblins didn’t want to live in an area with barely any supply of water. But that also meant Ylisseans found it quite difficult to grow crops and petitioned to King Chrom to forgive his neighbors and open up to other nations.

But Chrom wasn’t having any of this shit. He had long since closed off any trade routes out of a deep-seated grudge for that cunt-licker Gangrel and proceeded to dessicate the ecosystem even further. And do you remember how Sha’Rad Yuwi had released a strain of flakka-induced rabies to the country? Well in truth, the virus didn’t kill off Ylisseans entirely, it just sped the catastrophe along. It wasn’t until after his retainer Frederick died did Chrom truly wished he partnered with Prince Xander of Nohr instead of taking his anger out on his non-family.

 “I could really go for a drink,” Echo remarked, trekking in the hot sand. “If we don’t reach the boss of this level soon I don’t think I can refrain from spilling blood in front of you girls.”

“Well, it’s not exactly ideal, but all the nutrients an organism needs,” Delta said,”is condensed right in its kin. But Echo, you know, I know, and we all know that we need to stick together for survival and the last thing Blue wants is for us to dissect each other.”

“Umm, yeah, and don’t even think about lapping up your own pee,” Blue jumped in. “those mistakes of human beings who drink urine for “survival” obviously have too much free time on their hands.” She surveyed the wide desert environment, a few temnospondyl skeletons littered the sandscape. 

Charlie, the little velociraptor, was panting. “Are we there yet? I’m even happy to eat plants if it means getting some nice cool H2O.”

Blue cocked her head to look at her youngest sister. “Tell you what Charlie,” she said. “when we tackle down this baddie of this level, why don’t we all go bathe in Askr’s moat? The trout swimming there are quite delectable I have to say.”

“But I’m so thiiirsty,” Charlie whined. “even now, the last water molecules I have in my body are leaving me.” 

Lucina tapped her hand on the jungle-green raptor. “Now I might sound as convincing as say, Sole Survivor here but you’ve been a good girl Charlie.” She scrunched up her left arm, reveal bare flesh. “Here, if you have to , bite my arm and lap my blood.”

Blue’s eyes widened. “Future Witness, you do know that the moment my little sister chomps your arm, septic bacteria will flood your wound, right? There’s no medical help around here for miles.”

Lucina shrugged. “Sepsis or not, Charlie is in genuine need to rehydrate, and I want to do what I can to save everyone I love, including you.” The green-brown dinosaur sank her teeth into the Exalted princess’s bare arm. The navy girl flinched in response as  warm,dark crimson flowed from Charlie’s jaws.

The blue-striped velociraptor sighed. “I can’t change your choice of action, but if you collapse on the ground because you got an infection, remember that it was you who initiated it.” 

“No need to tell me,” the Exalted Princess replied maternally, Charlie suckling on her bloody arm.

                                             ***************

  Blue didn’t like her counterpart’s decision, but she had to respect it. As carnivorous animals didn’t exactly practice oral hygiene after their meals, flesh-eating bacteria more often than not inhabited their mouths and despite Lucina applying sand, pressure, and a tunic fashioned from her cape unto her wound after nursing Charlie, the navy-blue raptor knew damn well it was only a matter of time before infection set in and ate away at Lucina’s arm, eventually requiring amputation at best. They had to hurry and complete their mission.

 Unsurprisingly to Lucina prior to their departure, the Aberrant Forms were residing in the ruined castle in the former Halidon of Ylisse, which made traveling there a relative breeze. Aside from the occasional scampering compsognathus hopping about on some crumbling pillars, there wan’t really anything to impede the raptors’ mission to defeat the boss of this area. 

Well, at least anything that wasn’t heavily armored or bearing a sharp saber.

Blue and company were about to take a step toward’s Luci’s former residence and a woman in orchid mounting on top of a spiky turtle-like ankylosaurus met them at the entrance. 

“Howdy cutie babes!” the ankylosaurus greeted them enthusiastically, his eyes gleeming with endorphins. “It’s always nice when I get to see cute young women like you for these hard eyes!”

“Oh great, a wounded girl and four little lizards,” the white and pink woman remarked. “I ought to be killing my sisters and instead I’m stuck here with this pervy turtle and chopping up trespassers.”

Blue walked up to them. “Umm, hello. We’re here to see the boss of this level, and ideally, we would like to defeat them bore Future Witness here lands in critical condit-

WHOOOMP! A spike-laden tail ending in a hard club had just barely missed Blue as the charcoal blue-striped dromaeosaur leaped back. The ankylosaur was swinging his tail, stirring up a cloud of dust.

“Awww, do we really hav’ta go this route? I heard the world of Fire Emblem is full of hot voluptuous chicks and it’ll be such a disgrace if I smashed their frail bodies.” the chelonian-esque dinosaur commented, still thrashing his tail in confrontation.

“Grandpa Havoc, does it really matter whether we kill men or women?” The orchid woman sighed. “At the end of the day, anyone who stands in our way is just a walking juice-box with organs floating in it, gender or no gender.”

“Awww, but Zero, don’t ya think girls like you and those veloci-vixens make bloody anime and games more digestible? The viewers don’t want to experience a Chernobyl gas-leak 20 times a day.” the ankylosaur named Havoc protested.

On the other hand Blue and her sisters were at a standstill. The white woman named Zero could perhaps be taken out with the raptor swarming at her, but Havoc was proven to be a hard hurdle. Somewhere, deep within the fabric of their DNA, just like their ancestors knew 80 million years ago, Blue and her siblings knew ankylosaurs were the pinnacle of armored dinosaurs. A low-profile body enveloped with numerous osteoderms and spikes were already diffult to penetrate enough, then there is the delightful bit that fatal tail-club is more than blunt enough to break the leg bones of a tyrannosaur. Did I also mentioned that ankys’ heads were armored to the extent that even their eyelids took eye-protection to the extreme? The raptors could plan a surprise attack but they need to think hard, and fast-

“Okay Veloci-Volutuous-Vixens, since you’re at a lost here, I think I’m gonna make life easier for you gals and let you pass.” Havoc said.

Blue tilted her head. “...? Did I hear that just right?”

“Why yes, my dear dromeaosaurid theropod. You girls can proceed to the boss fight up ahead, on one condition.”

“And what would that be?” Delta asked.

Havoc smiled. “Why, since you gorgeous girls are in humanoid form, why don’t you unzip those pants and reveal them lacy bras to this tired anky here?”

“....................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................are you fucking serious!?” the raptors exclaimed in shock and disbelief.

“I cannot say it is a lie. Even with rex blood pumped into a ya, no raptors can ever flip over an anyklosaurus like me, let alone the king of the dinosaurs. I’m just making things easier for y’all.” Grandpa Havoc eyed Lucina and her bandaged left arm. “and I think if she were to knock boots with my waifu Zero here, I think ya’ll and I struck a deal-OW!!”

Zero had jabbed her sword right in Havoc’s head out of annoyance. “If you’d like me to kill you for assuming I’m like my slutty sister Five, absolutely help yourself Havoc.” She hissed as she jumped off her comrade. As Havoc was trying her shake the erect sword off his head, Zero strided towards Luci and placed a small glowing blue orb in her hand. “W-what is this?” Lucina asked.

“Theorectically I can heal that fleshy boo-boo of your while bedding you child, but I am not a horny slut like Five, so I’m giving you this.” Zero said, not smiling. “this orb will prevent any infections to your body, at least in the moment.” 

“O-oh. Thank you.” Luci bowed her head.

“As for you lizards though,” Zero continued to the raptors. “it IS possible to crush that pervy turtle-lizard thing but you’d have to use spears or magic. In other words: better luck next time!”

Though Delta wouldn’t admit it, she got a very sensational, soft, and wet feeling from hearing Zero’s bold statement. She looked at her other siblings, Blue, Echo, and Charlie, as well as Lucina. “Alright, we’ll shed our outer layers,” The green-blue velociraptor commenced.

And when the ankylosaurus Grandpa Havoc turned his head to see the girls pulling off their shirts, unzipping their pants, and patting their lacy underwear, the sword jammed into his head suddenly loosened and fell off. There was hardlt any better treat than to see cute females donning 2-piece lacy lingerie, revealing lustrous breasts, smooth thighs, and a full abdomen.

#jurassic emblem #fire emblem heroes #blucina #zero(drakengard) #jurassic world #yes just like horn skuld zero is neither from FE nor JP but it's a very nice twist to this carnival cast of characters #raptor squad #dinosaurs #ankylosaurus #fanfiction

[rockpapertheodore]

My brain’s been weird today, please take this word dump about why i’m a mess of a human being

I’ve written out a bunch of personal posts on tumblr and facebook today only to delete them because I don’t 

like

idk dude I always feel like when I start talking or getting excited about something that I’m intruding or bothering people with my unnecessary baloney even though it’s like

I just think of all the times when people have told me to shut up, or actively ignored me, and it fucking kills me. Like i know there are more people in my life that have encouraged and even enjoyed me talking at and around them, but it’s the few that were malicious that fuck me up, dude.

Like, 2014 was a really shitty year for me. If someone asks how I managed to fall into alcoholism so hard, I can point at two things. A) Genetics. I’ve seen my families and I’ve been to our gatherings. One half is the fun-loving, beer-drinking, moonshine-brewing redneck sort who are there for a good time, and that time is all the time (at least, that’s how it seems like to me). The other half are middle- to upper-middle class people who are overly-obsessed with pettiness and family politics, and most of them seem desperate to drink just so they can tolerate each other. The other reason is B) I spent a majority of 2014 in the presence of a man who was bombastic and ambitious, with massive, far-reaching goals and a vision that was incredible in scope.

and he treated me like absolute dog shit.

I was degraded. Constantly. Harshly. My ideas were stupid or nonsensical. He insulted my dad’s parenting ability because I wasn’t confident or didn’t know how to change my oil or my tires. I was to blame for things going wrong. I was lazy and unmotivated and stupid.

I literally dropped everything for this man to help him work on his short films, school projects, and, ultimately, the feature length film that we spent over a month shooting -- one full week at the beginning of the month of nonstop filming, and then broken up shoots over the next 6 weeks because everyone in the cast and crew had to return to work or school. I watched several people show up on the first day of filming only to ditch the second day because of how abrasive he was, and, at the time, I sympathized with him, because they just didn’t understand and were hindering him and the movie. I listened to him rant about how unmotivated these people were, how simple and content they were with mediocrity, despite one of them being a professional make-up artist and fashionista of the sort who travels across the country to work for models and makeup companies, and the other just being a college kid who was super passionate about music and sound mixing. I stopped hanging out with friends, playing video games,  and pretty much doing anything independently, really. When I went to a movie, it was with him. We’d spend entire nights in the corner of an IHOP or the truck stop editing and working on projects. I spent hours upon hours listening raptly as he told me all about filmmaking and his opinions on subjects and things he learned.

If he weren’t straight, you’d think we’d been dating. I was infatuated with this man and his ideas. There were nights where he’d call me down to his car to verbally berate me, and I didn’t know if I just wanted him to kiss me, fuck me, or just finally beat the shit out of me just so he’d stop screaming at me. I can take physical pain --  I mean, shit, I like physical pain. It’s visceral and real. I grew up doing every sport I could get my grubby little hands on and I spent a lot of time climbing on shit, falling, flipping. My hands used to be one massive callous from gymnastics, parkour, larping (electrical tape grips can do a number on you after a few hours). Physical pain I could handle just fine, and it’s something I understand.

I couldn’t take the emotional pain. I was a fucking failure at every turn with this man. I went up to a pack and a half of smokes a day. I started drinking more and more beer, and eventually just started buying liquor because it was cheaper and could get me even more drunk. The few times I got to go out with my friends to the bar earned me a full inbox of texts from him about how I was wasting my time and money and how stupid I was to drink at a bar. I once owed him about $900 after my truck had some issues and I’d blown a tire, and after we’d agreed on how much I’d pay him back per paycheck (which, keep in mind, were terms that he set for me and left me with about $50 after every check), I’d gone out with my friends to the cowboy bar that one of them was obsessed with, my phone died, and when I got home and charged it, there were 3 voicemails and my inbox was full of texts of him screaming about how if I had the money waste at the bar, that I was effectively wasting his money because I could have given him the fifty dollars he’d left me with. Never mind that he was allowed to make excuses as to why he had to delay paying me back again and again because he spent the money on his projects, by god it was his money that I owed him that we’re talking about. I literally showed him my bank statements and check stubs showing him that the only money I had was the fifty he’d let me keep. I had to defend myself and my actions constantly. 

He said right to my face that we weren’t equals, making it very clear that he was miles above me. He told me I was lazy and stupid, and condescendingly told me that it was okay if i was content with being a loser. There was no way I could understand his ambitions.

It was after he told me that we weren’t equals and I was beneath him that I realized that the whole situation wasn’t right. I spent more time with him than I did at home or work combined. I opened myself up to him. I gave up sleep and spent hours with him in his car as he talked about his problems and his life. I talked my dad into helping us build some equipment. I betrayed my dad’s trust for him to help make this movie by taking my truck before I’d gotten insurance back on it, which seems like a minor issue but my dad had helped me buy the truck, and had talked his friend into fixing the carburetor for cheap. My dad had done nothing but help me and the only thing I needed to do to get my truck was put insurance on it, and I betrayed that trust because I was putting his needs above my dad’s very simple request. It still messes me up so bad that I can barely talk to my dad anymore. I didn’t very much before then, but that’s just because it’s never been easy with my general mental illness and disposition to remember to call people. Now it’s difficult for me to be around him because I still feel hideously guilty about the whole situation.

It absolutely threw me for a loop that after all I’d done for him, not because of any ulterior motives, not because I wanted that easy meal ticket to success that he was so guaranteed to bring me, but because he was my friend and I wanted to help him because he not only needed it, but it was fun, that he’d treat me like I was nothing. Tell me in so many words that I wasn’t worth the stress that I caused him because of my negligence and ignorance.

And it was fun. By God, it was fun. I loved so much being on set, shooting the films, reading the scripts and working with the actors and the crew and the camera and everything. I loved it. I loved the late nights shooting and the long days driving between locations. I loved being in front of the camera, behind the camera, on the computer and recording devices watching and listening to what we’d recorded that day. I loved it so much, and it was honestly the best thing that had ever happened to me up to that point. It was absolutely, unabashedly, unequivocally incredible.

And now I have this painful aversion to it. Revulsion. I’m subconsciously terrified and passively apathetic to the whole process.

He poisoned it for me, God damn it. 

He’s poisoned me.

I’m sorry for word vomiting so much, it’s just some stuff that’s really been haunting my mind and I can’t seem to resolve it. My nightmares involve him coming over, and everything is just fine and he’s better and I’ve forgiven him. I wake up in a cold sweat those nights, my heart racing, one hard thought away from crying.

In two weeks, I’ll be seven months sober, and as time passes without alcohol to suppress my emotions, I’ve been able to more clearly think about them and process them, and I just needed to put some of these thoughts into words.

I still can’t see his name without suppressing a shudder, or talk about him without feeling nauseous and my anxiety spiking. I check and double check the white pages with every unfamiliar number that rings my phone in case it’s him. I can’t go to IHOP anymore without having a panic attack. I can’t go to my favorite coffee shop anymore without having a massive breakdown, because I’m so afraid that he’ll be there or he’ll walk through the door. 

I’m so afraid that I’m broken and I can’t be fixed.

I know it’s not true, but the terror is there, and, in the back of my mind, he’s there, too, and I’m so afraid that he’ll never leave.

#cw: gaslighting #cw: abuse

[anavoliselenu]

Beautiful lies chapter 13

Thank you, God. The sane and feisty sister I know and love is back. I look over at Becca, communicating my gratitude without needing to speak.

Justin watches the interaction happening between me and Becca, no doubt wondering what I’ve told her about my time in Los Angeles. I hope he knows me well enough to know I’d never divulge our secret.

"I fucked up. It was wrong not to tell you…" Justin’s voice is thick with emotion, unlike I’ve ever heard him before.

"Stella is a mega-beast who…" Pace starts.

Justin holds up one hand, silencing his brother. "No, Pace. This is my mess. I will fix it."

I have no idea why, but the sudden urge to ease his pain and anguish flares up inside me. "I’m here aren’t I?" I say, meeting Justin’s eyes. Of course, I’m not brave enough to remove the cover of my sunglasses, but still.

His sad look dissipates ever so slightly.

An hour later, we’re on our second bottle of wine before the waitress even thinks to bring the lunch menu. I realize that Justin’s suggestion of grabbing a quick bite to eat is quickly turning into an all afternoon affair. The pace of this country's meal times are nothing like the US.

"Let’s order some lunch, shall we?" Pace, asks, handing me a menu printed entirely in Italian.

Our food is finally delivered, and while we eat Becca opens up about her treatment. I can’t help but notice Justin leans forward on his elbows to absorb every word. He knows the hefty price tag for the treatment was made possible by his generous winning bid. And maybe it’s the charitable side to him, but I can see in his reverent expression that something inside of him feels proud to have helped.

When Becca probes Justin about his work, he makes some offhand remark about investment banking and then launches into a detailed discussion about his charity foundation. They’re close to fulfilling their mission in Africa. The new school he’s built will have their grand opening soon.

Becca is in awe listening to him – clearly he’s a great catch who just got even better in her eyes.

"Selena’s work is missed. She was a big help those weeks spent getting Kylie caught up." He reaches for my hand and I move it under the table.

Though the conversation buzzes around me, I can barely keep up. My head is filled with questions about Justin’s marriage to a woman he admittedly doesn’t love. Why did he marry her? Where has she been while I’ve been sleeping in their bed? My entire relationship with him now feels tainted.

Despite our precarious start to things, I’d started to believe that he’d been brought into my life for a reason. Sent to me like a guardian angel to heal Becca and awaken me sexually. I’d spent two months living with him, growing close, falling for him.

I wonder now more than ever about why he never slept with me. Was it because he didn’t want to be unfaithful to his wife?

"Selena?" Justin’s voice cuts through the one in my head. "More wine?"

I shake my head. "I’d rather just get going back to the hotel."

He checks his watch and frowns. "Okay. That should be all right."

We finish our lunch of insalata, warm bread, white wine and several bottles of sparkling water. After Justin pays for the meal, Pace and Becca rise from the table, looking slightly tipsy and eager to set off on their exploration.

Justin and I walk side by side in silence all the way back to the hotel. But there are so many new sights, sounds and smells to take in, that I hardly notice the stiff uncomfortable silence that’s settled between us. Just navigating the uneven cobblestone streets in my strappy sandals takes extra concentration.

When we reach the hotel, Colt opens the door and ushers me through, his warm palm once again settling against my spine and leaving a rush of tingles in its wake.

A young man dressed in a hotel uniform stops us in the lobby.

"A new key for you, Miss." His Italian accent caresses the words, making them sound much sexier than they are.

"I have a key." I hold it up.

"Yes, but for your new suite. Floor seventeen." He folds the key card in my hand while simultaneously removing the old one.

I recall Justin stopping to talk in hushed voices with the concierge before we left the hotel. Is this his doing?

He raises an eyebrow and shrugs. "I just wanted you to be comfortable."

I bite my tongue to avoid pointing out that I’d been more comfortable before he appeared and started interfering, but deep down inside, I know he’s just trying to be nice, as annoying as it might be. He can’t win me back with thoughtful gestures and sweet remarks. Call me crazy, but I have a rule about dating man who are married: I don’t.

"You shouldn’t have," I bite out and turn for the elevator, punching the button repeatedly with my thumb. I notice Justin waiting beside me and I give him a pointed stare. "I guess you can wait in the lobby for Becca and Pace’s sightseeing date to end."

"You promised me we could talk," he says, his tone making clear his displeasure.

Yes, but that was before the wine and the possessive stares he treated me to all during lunch. I don’t trust myself alone in a room with him right now. "I don’t think being alone in a hotel room with a married man is proper."

He releases a low growl of frustration just as the elevator doors open and drags me inside.

Warning bells are going off inside my head. I’m about to be alone with a man who still holds power over my heart despite his unavailable relationship status.

Be strong, Selena.

Justin

Pinning Selena to the wall of the elevator, my hands clench into fists above her head. It’s taking every ounce of self-control I have not to push my hips into hers and claim her mouth. I know I’ve lost the right, but my body refuses to understand that.

I can see her pulse thrumming in her neck as I bend down near her ear. "Don’t push me right now. My emotions are all over the fucking place – something very new for me, I can assure you."

She shoves both hands against my chest, pushing me back several paces. "Oh, your emotions are all over the place? Try putting yourself in my shoes." Her voice rises frantically. "I was buck-naked in your goddamn pool trying to seduce you when your wife showed up." The word wife is spat from her mouth like a sour bomb.

"You ran out on me before I had the chance to explain. You wouldn’t answer my calls and now I’ve flown six thousand miles just to set the record straight with you." I take a deep breath and straighten my posture. Arguing with her won’t get me anywhere. Of course she has a right to be mad. "Listen, Selena. I needed to see you. I'm coming upstairs to talk to you."

After an intense standoff her gaze falls to the floor as she realizes further negotiation will be pointless. "What floor am I on?"

"Top floor," I answer. The best suite they have. Obviously.

Realizing we’re just standing in the stationary elevator that hasn’t yet moved from the ground level, she gingerly reaches out and presses the button. My mouth lifts up in a smile. Progress.

Per my instructions, Selena and Becca’s luggage has been moved into the suite. There’s a moderately sized living room, two separate bedrooms, each with its own washroom and a tiny balcony overlooking the courtyard fountain. She takes a minute to navigate the rooms, lightly running her fingers along a gilded antique credenza and bending at the waist to smell the fresh arrangement of white blossoms on the coffee table.

I take every second I can to just drink her in. Even though it’s only been three days since I’ve seen her, held her in my arms, slept with her warm body next to me, it feels like much longer. The privilege to touch her has been ripped away, and my body riots in silent agony, my heart aching and my fists clenching uselessly at my sides. I fucking hate this.

We need to talk like civilized adults, but fuck if I know how to start.

"Selena…" I begin.

"Colt…" She says at the same time.

We share an awkward smile.

"Come sit down." I gesture to the sofa – neutral territory and she obeys, slipping off her sandals and curling her legs underneath her as she sinks into the cushion farthest away from me.

"Ask me anything you want to know. No more secrets," I promise.

Bouncing one knee up and down, she twists the ring on her thumb. "How long have you been married?"

I release a heavy sigh and push my fingers into my hair. Much longer than I want to admit.

"If you try to hide things…if you’re going to be evasive…" She swallows.

"Anything you want to know. Even if the truth is hard to hear," I confirm. As much as I’d like to protect her from the ugly truth, I won’t. Not if that’s not what she wants. "I’ve been married for four years. For the past two we haven’t lived in the same state."

"Why was she at your house that day?"

"Who the fuck knows with her. We've been trying to settle our divorce for a long time. But neither of us can seem to agree on anything."

She licks her lips, thinking over this information. "Is she the reason you went to New York?"

"Yes, Stella lives in New York with her boyfriend. I went there to try and talk to her about the terms of our divorce in person. That didn't work."

Her forehead creases. "She has a boyfriend?"

I nod. "Our former gardener. I found out they started fucking after we got married."

Her mouth tugs down in a frown. "Oh."

"It turns out that she never loved me, and even though my family warned me about her motives, I couldn’t see it. I wanted a woman in my life, and I don’t know..." I rub my temples absently. "Maybe it had to do with losing my mother at such a young age… But I liked the company, the companionship of someone by my side. Someone warm and loving to share my life with." I sound like a complete pussy, but that was how the twenty-four year old me saw the world.

And Stella was the perfect trophy wife, accompanying me to work functions, dressing in the latest fashions and always a happy smile on her lips. Too bad it had all been fake.

"What happened?" Selena asks, her tone softening.

"Things changed as soon as we got engaged. I thought it was just stress over planning the wedding–she wanted it to be the affair of the decade, something the Los Angeles elite would be buzzing about for years to come–she put way too much pressure on herself planning it. I didn’t see at the time that it was all for show. It was more about the dress and the party and French champagne than it was about me and her."

Selena chews on her lip, listening intently. I have no fucking clue why I’m unloading all this…but something tells me if I have any hope at salvaging things between us, I need to bare my soul.

I clear my throat and continue. "And even though my brothers tried to talk me out of it, I had convinced myself that it was all going to be fine. I wasn’t going to call off my wedding simply because my fiancé was turning into a bridezilla. I figured it would all settle down after the wedding day."

"But it didn’t?" Selena asks softly.

"No. She was distant, and cold. Not at all like the smiling, charming girl I fell for in the first place. Once the rock was on her finger and the ink on the marriage license was dry, she turned into a completely different person. The one I suspected she’d actually been all along. She’d played me. Married me for my money and I’d fallen for it like a lovesick fool."

"I’m sorry, Colt…" she starts.

"No, don’t." She shouldn’t be the one apologizing to me. The headache I’d felt coming on earlier was full-on throbbing in my temples. I continued, "After the game Stella pulled on me, it made it hard to even think about trusting another woman. Being separated for the past two years, I tried dating causally. I didn’t want to, but my brothers occasionally set me up with a woman. Behind every sweet smile and every flirty look was someone only interested in my bank roll and the lifestyle I could provide. I wanted a genuine connection, not a trophy wife. But I realized with my status and my wealth, real love wasn’t going to be something easy to find."

"Then why go to that auction?" Her confusion is etched between her eyebrows as she waits for me to answer.

"To put it bluntly?" I smirk.

She nods for me to go ahead.

"A man has his limits. The pent up sexual frustration of being celibate for two years…I was horny as fuck and needed to get laid."

Her mouth twitches in a smile.

"That’s the complete truth. I knew exactly what I was paying for and that there’d be no chance of feelings or false promises."

"Why not just hire an escort?"

I shrug. The thought had crossed my mind a few times. "I guess I’m not the kind of guy to hire an escort. I wanted something more discreet. I couldn’t have that information getting leaked. CEOs who get caught hiring prostitutes usually end up on the evening news."

She nodded in silent understanding.

"With the auction, I liked the medical testing, non-disclosure agreements and confidentiality promised to me. Plus the companionship angle we covered before."

"But you never…we never…" She pauses.

"I never fucked you," I finish for her.

She lifts her chin in indignation. "Why not? Is it because you would have felt like you were cheating on her?" she asks, her big blue eyes locked onto mine.

I reach for her hand, pulling it into my lap, unable to resist the physical warmth it provides. "No. It’s because I would have felt like I was cheating on you. You deserved more and I knew it."

Her bottom lip trembles and the urge to suck it into my mouth flares up inside me.

Pulling her hand away, Selena rises to her feet. "You can’t say things like that." There’s anger in her eyes and I’m left speechless. I can’t even begin to imagine all the thoughts and emotions running through her head. So I won’t try. She moves to the window and looks out solemnly.

Rising to my feet, I stand behind her, resisting the urge to pull her close. "I can’t lose you," I whisper. "Not when I feel like my life is finally falling into place. You were the missing piece. You were the cheese to my macaroni." I smile lightly, hoping she remembers.

She turns to face me. Her soft gaze is pinned on mine and I can tell we’re both remembering the time we spent together. It just felt right. "I can’t do this, Justin. I was developing real feelings for you."

Was? I know I’m falling for her, terrifying as it fucking is. I shake the thought away, once again trying to convince myself that my interest in her is only about seeing the arrangement through.

"You’re married," she reminds me.

Tramping down my emotions, I swallow. "Only legally. And if I can just get her to agree to the terms, I’ll sign off on the divorce…"

"Wait. You’re the one holding up the divorce?" Anger flashes in Selena’s normally calm blue eyes. The change in her is unmistakable. It’s like I’ve inadvertently tripped some wire and a bomb is about to detonate. I take a hesitant step back.

"Yes."

"But…I don’t understand…"

Fuck. How do I explain this without further upsetting her?

"If I divorce her, she wins. She’ll take half of everything, plus I’ll be ordered to pay her spousal support." It’s not about the money – well, I guess it is, because splitting up my millions will put my investment into the Africa project at risk. It means I’ll have fallen for her game, hook, line and sinker. Stella one, Colt zero. But worse than that, the funding for the school, hospital and all the projects I had planned would be stopped dead in their tracks as my money is tied up in a legal battle. I won’t let my personal fuckup be the cause of so much destruction. I’m funneling every bit of money I have into this charity and I won’t sacrifice a single dollar to keep Stella in Manolo Blahniks while children go hungry. Fuck no.

"You…" Her eyes widen and then slam closed. "You didn’t have a pre-nup, and now your male pride is too damn stubborn to take the hit financially." She blinks up at me and something twists deep inside my gut.

She’s right about the pre-nup, I was a fucking fool. Twenty-four years old when we tied the knot and thought I was in love. But she’s wrong about the rest. "This has nothing to do with male pride. My goal all along has been to wait her out, and complete my project in Africa before finalizing the divorce. I won’t have my money tied up in some court battle while I could be doing something actually fucking useful with it."

Selena’s judging stare and her rigid posture force me to see that maybe this isn’t all going to end well. After surviving Stella, I need a woman who understands my drive and desire to see some good in the world. I thought Selena would be that woman. But perhaps I was wrong. I take a calming breath and struggle to clear my head.

Selena moves across the room, her posture stiff as she goes to the far window that looks onto the courtyard below. I cross the room in a few long strides and stand behind her, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Selena…" I murmur.

Her shoulders relax and she sniffs like she’s crying.

Spinning her to face me, I see that her face is red and a single tear tumbles along her porcelain cheek.

"Don’t cry." I brush the dampness away with my thumb. "You’re all I want. The rest, Stella, the paperwork, I’ll figure it out. I just need time. And I need your faith in me." I don’t know why that’s suddenly so important, but it is. Her eyes drift closed and she doesn’t protest. It’s a start.

I’ve never groveled like this before, but I’ve also never felt quite as strongly about a woman as I do about Selena. Unable to resist the urge to touch her, I run my fingertips along her exposed arms, lightly caressing her smooth skin.

Selena swallows and blinks up at me. Leaning down to lower my mouth to hers, I whisper against her lips. "You’re mine, sweetness."

My cock was half hard all through lunch, but now that we’re alone, the beast is demanding attention. I’ve traveled thousands of miles to get her to listen, and now the last thing I want to do is talk. I'm craving her like a drug.

Her mouth parts and I take the opportunity to gently kiss her full bottom lip, and then the top, carefully peppering her sweet mouth with tender kisses.

Her hands fist in my shirt and for just a moment I think she’s going to push me away, but she tugs me closer and my kisses go from chaste to hot in two seconds flat. The knowledge that I haven’t lost her sends a thrill racing through me.

My tongue pushes past her parted lips and caresses hers. Goddamn, I’ve missed the things this mouth can do. The raging erection in my pants remembers all too well.

The need to taste her, to consume every part of her flares within me. And knowing that there’s a bed in the next room sends my mind spinning with possibilities. I want more. I want it all, everything she has to offer, but I force myself to slow and meet her eyes, checking for any sign of displeasure. Her look is pure wanton lust.

My hand slips under the hem of the skirt she’s wearing. If she knew my dark thoughts right now, she wouldn’t have worn this in my presence. But she seems blissfully unaware that I want to fuck her hard and fast until she’s sore and bowlegged from my cock repeatedly impaling her.

The man she’s come to know exercises restraint and control at every turn, but that man is nowhere to be found. Unable to hold back from touching her, I slide my hand up the outside of her thigh and feel her tremble, but she doesn’t pull away. She doesn’t move a single muscle.

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