#i haven't thought about them in so long but the drama and pain of it all is just so so so good

[wholoveseggs]

hi! I see you have a bunch of requests so I’m sorry to request but do you think you could write an Elijah angst with fluff ? Like y/n is upset because she thinks that elijah likes Hayley but he’s actually in love with her and has been for centuries but has always been too scared to tell her.

Always

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Upon your unexpected appearance at the compound, centuries after being presumed dead, Elijah has to grapple with feelings he long buried and the consequences that come with it.

~♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) & @vervain3 ♡♡ - I combined all three ideas and made a jealousy triangle {square? circle? idk}~

3k words - Warnings: a little smutty right at the end, drama, angst, jealousy... vaguely refer to events from season 2 & 3... Klaus interfering & loving all the drama (Regina George energy)

It was a rare thing for Elijah Mikaelson to fall in love, but when he did, it was forever. In his one thousand years of living he could count on one hand the number of times his heart had truly belonged to someone else and he could recall, with exact detail, everything about them.

There was Tatia, the first woman he ever fell for, and then there was Katerina, or Katherine, who was a thorn in his side and a constant source of regret.Then Celeste came into the picture, a beautiful and powerful witch, her loss and betrayal still a bitter taste in his mouth.

And then there was you, the brightest light in his dark life. Your face still burned brightly in his memories and your name still danced on his tongue like the sweetest melody. You did things to him that no one else could, dissolving his burdens with just a smile.

You had captured his heart with just one look and he had been yours, mind, body, and soul. He was so in love with you, it hurt.

So when you died, he was shattered, torn apart and left to deal with the pain alone. He would see your face everywhere, haunting him and reminding him of his failure to protect the one he loved. To never be able to tell you how he felt was the most painful thing of all.

Centuries had passed since he lost you, his grief now a dull ache in his heart, but nothing had ever truly made the pain go away.

Hayley's presence in his life mended the broken pieces somewhat, but they were still damaged. His feelings for the hybrid would never be enough to erase the ghost of his love for you.

He accepted being content with what he had, knowing he didn't deserve anything more. That he was lucky to have met his soul mate, even if you were never truly his. To know that true love was real, if not fleeting.

So when he saw you, sitting on the sofa in the courtyard, laughing and chatting with Klaus, his heart stopped. He wondered if he was imagining you again, if his mind was playing a cruel trick on him.

But you turned, your gaze meeting his and the world stopped. He felt his knees grow weak, and his heart race.

You were real, you were here, you were alive.

And you looked just as beautiful as the day he last saw you.

But there was a bit of a problem, he was with Hayley now. You were back and he didn't know how to feel about that.

"Elijah, how long has it been? You look well." You greet him with a smile, pulling him in for a hug.

Elijah hesitated before wrapping his arms around you, inhaling the scent that he had thought he'd never experience again. He couldn't help but hold you a little tighter, afraid that if he let you go, you'd disappear.

"Y/N," he whispers softly.

You pull back, noticing the way his eyes seem to burn brighter, full of emotions you couldn't read.

"How are you? I haven't seen you since..." you trail off.

"Since you died," he finishes, his eyes looking at you curiously.

"Since you left me behind," you corrected him.

Elijah frowned, not understanding what you were talking about. The night Mikael returned, you were killed and your body burnt, at least, that's what Klaus had told him.

"Klaus said you were killed, we didn't have time to retrieve your body."

You shake your head. "That wasn't me, he was mistaken."

"So where were you?" he asked, still unable to believe you were really here.

"Here and there," you said with a smile, none of that mattered now.

You always had a soft spot for Elijah, when you first met him and his family, you found him to be so stoic and melancholic. You delighted in making him laugh, his smile lighting up his whole face and giving him the air of youth and carefreeness that you knew he had buried deep within him.

Nothing ever happened between you, he tended to fall for more serious types. But you never stopped loving him, he was always going to be the one you couldn't forget.

"You're as bad as Niklaus," Elijah said, chuckling lightly.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you grinned.

You were interrupted by a beautiful brunette with stunning hazel eyes, she walked up and placed her hand on Elijah's shoulder, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Y/N, this is Hayley," Elijah introduced, his hand going to rest on her back.

Of course, you thought. She was exactly his type, beautiful and fierce.

You gave her a small smile, shaking her hand.

"How do you know Elijah?" she asked, curious.

"We met a very long time ago, in another place," you answered, giving Elijah a sidelong glance. "In another life."

Hayley looked between the two of you, sensing there was more to your relationship than you were letting on. She wasn't going to let you anywhere near what was hers.

"What brings you here? To New Orleans, I mean?"

"I heard the original family has settled here and I wanted to catch up with old friends," you replied. "But mostly, I'm just passing through,"

Hayley frowned, "old friends," she repeated, her hand tightening around Elijah's shoulder.

She had only just met you, but already, she knew she didn't like you. You seemed to have a permanent smirk on your face that reminded her of Klaus, and that made her distrust you instantly. And the way Elijah was looking at you made her feel uneasy, she had never seen him look so...happy.

"Oh," Elijah's expression faltered, his disappointment barely noticeable. "You're leaving?"

"Well, I don't want to overstay my welcome," you joked, your eyes flickering to Hayley's.

"How about you join us tonight for dinner," Klaus said, walking up and joining the group, he always knew exactly how to make an awkward situation worse. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

You gave him a small smile. "Sure,"

When you arrived for dinner, you were surprised by the amount of people Klaus had invited. It was a bit of a relief, it would mean that you didn't have to be alone with Elijah and Hayley.

Klaus stood at the head of the table, making introductions, there were a number of vampires and werewolves present, including a werewolf alpha named Jackson and a handsome vampire named Marcel.

You greeted them all politely, before taking a seat next to Marcel.

"Y/N, this is my dear friend Marcellus," Klaus greeted, "you two have a remarkable amount in common."

Marcel smiles, "hello, beautiful."

"Hi," you smiled back, your eyes lingering on his, he had a killer smile and a charm to him that was difficult to resist.

You were glad to have someone to talk to, you could tell Marcel had a great sense of humor and you enjoyed his company. You also found yourself attracted to him, he was definitely your type.

"So, how do you know the Mikaelsons?" Marcel asked, a little confused. "I didn't think they had any friends outside their family,"

"Klaus turned me centuries ago, when they were hiding out in my town." You explain, taking a sip of your wine. "They needed allies, so he made some of us into vampires."

"Ahh, been there, done that." Marcel replied with a smile, leaning in closer, his hand brushing against yours.

Elijah watched from the other end of the table, his eyes flickering between the pair, his stomach knotting with every touch and look exchanged between you.

You didn't miss his glances, or his frowns, and you wondered what his problem was. He had his gorgeous girlfriend by his side, why was he looking at you this way?

Klaus delighted in the growing jealousy he could see bubbling up inside Elijah. He knew his brother had always loved you, but never made a move. And now, he was paying for it.

Klaus watched as you flirted with Marcel, enjoying the sight of Elijah growing increasingly frustrated.

"They seem cozy, how cute," he mused, his eyes gleaming.

"Yes, it appears that way," Elijah replied, his jaw clenching.

Hayley smiled at you and Marcel, "they’d make a good couple,"

"Would they?" Elijah asked, a hint of irritation in his tone.

Hayley didn't notice, she was too busy watching the way your eyes lingered on each other's and the way Marcel leaned in close and whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

Elijah didn't miss the spark in your eyes as you spoke with Marcel, the way your face lit up and the way his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

He wanted to rip his heart out.

He felt himself growing angrier by the minute, his hands clenched and his jaw tight. He could barely keep up with the conversation, his attention focused on you, his jealousy eating away at him.

There you were, so close, your laughter filling the air, the sound he had been longing to hear for so long. And he was stuck sitting across from you, watching you get closer to another man.

"Jackson, tell me about this ritual you mentioned earlier," Klaus said, interrupting Elijah's thoughts.

"Well," Jackson began, looking between Hayley and Elijah awkwardly. "It could possibly give the pack hybrid-like abilities,"

Hayley smiled, "that's exactly what we need Klaus, an army to protect our child."

"What would this ritual involve?" Elijah asked, trying to distract himself from the sound of your laughter.

"A marriage," Jackson answered. "Between myself and Hayley,"

"A marriage?" Hayley asked, confused. "I thought this was just a ritual?"

Jackson shook his head, "in order for it to work, we need to marry,"

Hayley frowned, looking between Jackson and Elijah. She wasn't sure how she felt about the idea of marrying anyone but Elijah, but she had no choice, she would do anything for her daughter.

"It would give us the power and numbers we need," Klaus agreed. "We could protect Hope from anyone who wished her harm."

Elijah felt strangely relieved, despite knowing how selfish it was. He thought he loved Hayley, that her marrying another would bother him, but he was more bothered by the way Marcel was touching you, he realized that his feelings for Hayley weren't enough.

He still loved you, and he always would.

"I guess that's it then," Hayley sighed, glancing over at Elijah, wondering what was going through his mind.

"We can discuss it further tomorrow, but I'm sure it's something that would benefit us all," Elijah said, his voice steady.

Hayley nodded, her heart breaking at his indifference. She didn't understand, she had hoped he would argue against it, at least a little bit, but it appeared she was mistaken.

She glanced over at you, seeing the way you kept looking at Elijah. She realized that your presence had shifted something in her relationship, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger towards you.

After dinner, everyone had a drink or two and mingled. Elijah and Hayley found a private corner to chat about her wedding, their conversation awkward and strained, filled with hidden meanings.

"Are you alright?" Elijah asked, noticing the pain in her eyes.

"Yeah, fine." Hayley nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "I just thought you would... I dunno... Protest the wedding more."

Elijah hesitated, "we need to do whatever we can to bring home Hope." He spoke carefully, "you know that I... care for you."

Hayley looked away, trying to hide the hurt on her face. He 'cared for' her, but it wasn't enough.

"You care for me," she repeated, her voice lacking the inflection of surprise. "But you don't love me, do you?"

She looked up at him, their eyes locking. He looked at her sadly, the regret in his eyes telling her all she needed to know.

"You'll always have a place in my heart, Hayley," he said. "It's just-"

"She's back," she finished, nodding sadly. "You've always loved her."

Elijah didn't respond, instead he simply stared at her, their eyes full of unspoken words, unshed tears and the promise of a life together that would never be.

Hayley took a breath, blinking back her tears.

"I should probably go and join the others," she said, turning to walk away. "I'll… see you around,”

Elijah released a breath, running his hand through his hair. He stood there, debating whether he should go over and talk to you.

Hayley could tell from the way you'd been looking at him that your feelings for him were the same. She was hurt, and a little drunk, and a more than a bit angry.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw Marcel whisper something in your ear, his hand resting on your shoulder. You seemed to have every man here wrapped around your finger instantly, even Elijah.

Hayley walked up to you, her eyes flashing. "It's incredible how you just return out of the blue and have every man here panting at your heels."

You raised an eyebrow, not expecting the hostility.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you in some way?" You asked, giving her a confused look.

"No, you're just a slut who can't seem to keep her hands off the men around here." Hayley snapped.

You looked at her in surprise, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Marcel and I were only flirting," you replied.

Hayley glared at you, her fists clenching. You could see the rage burning in her eyes, and you were tempted to push her further, just to see how far you could take it. But before you could, Jackson was by her side, a worried look on his face.

"Come on Hayley, let's get some air," he said, pulling her away from you.

Marcel watched as they left, his arm draped around your shoulders.

"What was that about?" He asked, glancing down at you.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you shrugged, your gaze drifting over to Elijah.

He was looking at you as well, his eyes wide and searching, as if he couldn't believe you were really there.

"I'm sorry Marcel, I think I'm going to turn in early," you said, smiling apologetically. "It's been a long day."

Marcel nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Call me sometime, if you're interested," he said with a grin, winking playfully.

"Sure, thanks." You nodded, returning his smile.

You made your way over to Klaus, thanking him for the dinner, and bidding him a goodnight. You then approached Elijah, a small smile on your face, your heart pounding.

"It's wonderful to see you, after all these years," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

"You too, Elijah." You said, giving him a genuine smile.

"I want to show you something, before you go." He said, extending his hand out to you.

You hesitated, glancing down at his hand, a part of you afraid to get your hopes up, to believe that he saw you as more than a friend. But when your eyes met his, you could see something in his gaze, and it gave you the confidence you needed to take his hand.

"Lead the way,"

Elijah gave you a small smile, leading you to his study. He walked over to his desk, searching around until he pulled out a wooden box.

He placed it on the desk, opening the lid. Inside was a pendant necklace, a gold chain with a small emerald medallion hanging from it, with your initials engraved.

You hadn't seen it in centuries, not since the night you parted, and the sight of it brought a flood of emotions crashing down.

"You kept it," you whispered, your eyes stinging with tears.

"Of course," Elijah replied, his voice quiet, a smile playing on his lips. "It was yours, it belongs with you."

Your fingers gently grazed the pendant, the cool metal a reminder of your human life. It was given to you by your mother, the only thing you had left of her. You had treasured it, and when it broke, Elijah had offered to get it fixed for you.

But when Mikael arrived and you were separated, you thought it was forever lost.

"You got it fixed," you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

"Yes, it was important to you." Elijah replied, his voice soft, a smile on his face.

"After all these years, after everything, why did you keep it?" You asked, confused.

"It was all I had left of you," he replied, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed, unable to speak, your throat tight and your chest aching. You'd never imagined he'd held onto such a keepsake, a reminder of you he held onto for centuries after he believed you to be dead.

Elijah gently picked up the necklace, placing it around your neck, his hands lingering.

"I'm happy to return this to you," he whispered. "It's where it belongs."

Your hand went up to the pendant, tears streaming down your cheeks. You turned to face him and his hand cupped your cheek, wiping away the tears. You leaned into his touch, his skin warm against yours.

He stared into your eyes, his expression filled with emotion, his heart beating erratically.

"I want you to know that I..." his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words. "That I have never forgotten you."

"I never forgot you either," you whispered, your gaze dropping to his lips, your own parting.

He leaned in slowly, closing the gap between you. His lips were soft, gentle, as they pressed against yours, you both sighed, melting into each other. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

He moved you back until you hit the desk, his lips moving down your neck, nipping and kissing, causing you to moan. Your hands grasped at his clothes, tugging him closer, desperate for him.

Elijah lifted you onto the desk, pushing his body between your legs, his hardness pressed against you. His mouth was on yours again, his hands roaming your body, exploring every inch.

"Wait, wait," you panted, breaking the kiss. "You are with Hayley,"

Elijah paused, his eyes locked with yours, his chest heaving. "Not anymore."

You stared at him, confusion and desire muddling your thoughts.

"What?" You managed, still struggling to catch your breath.

"We broke up, tonight," he explained, his voice husky, his hands caressing your thighs.

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind, but his closeness and his hands on your body were making it impossible to think. He kissed you again, his lips hungry, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you.

You moaned, arching into him, your hands roaming his body, pulling him closer. His hands tugged at your dress, hiking it up your thighs, moving your panties to the side.

"I want you," he muttered, his eyes dark, filled with lust.

You whispered his name as his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit. His mouth was on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, nibbling softly. You gasped, your hands grasping at his belt, trying desperately to undo it.

He pushed his pants and underwear down, his cock springing free. He positioned himself between your legs, easing into you slowly. Your eyes locked, both of you filled with an intense, desperate need for the other.

Elijah groaned, gripping the desk, his knuckles turning white, as he began thrusting into you, slow and deep. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your moans filling the room.

His movements became faster, more frantic, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you. You felt yourself getting closer, your muscles tightening, your breathing becoming shallow.

His lips crashed against yours, his hands gripping your thighs, holding them open. The desperate way he was fucking you was a testament to the feelings he held for you, and it only fueled your desire for him.

You moaned into his mouth as you came, your orgasm hitting you hard, making your body tremble, your muscles spasming.

Elijah buried his face in your neck, sinking his fangs into you as he let go, his body shuddering. You held him, stroking his hair, feeling his body relax.

"I've always loved you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." You replied, kissing his temple.

He kissed you again, his hands cradling your face. He smiled at you, his eyes filled with warmth, and a deep love that was reserved only for you.

It felt like coming home.

♡♡ Hayley is jealous of you -> you are jealous of Hayley -> Elijah is jealous of Marcel... & Marcel is too cool to care. ♡♡ ~What kind of jealously geometry is this??? I'm a writer not a mathematician lol~

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #the originals #the vampire diaries #tvdu #vampire diaries #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

[sansaorgana]

So I adored the buck x reader secret relationship! Can you write, kind of a continuation of it where the reader finds out she's pregnant and Buck overhears some of the nurses taking about it (trying to work out who the father is etc) and Bucks trying so hard not to react so he doesn't give the two of you away and he goes to find you to confirm it and then it's really fluffy? So sorry it's so long!

hello, dear! thank you so much, first of all! 🥺 I loved writing this because I'm a sucker for pregnancy drama 😂 I might even write part three to this 👀

[ PART ONE ] || [ PART THREE ]

my inbox is open for blurb/short fic requests for major cleven 🤗

Buck was surprised that you weren't the one to hand him a cup of coffee in the morning. In fact, you weren't around at all. His eyes wandered all over the room looking for you but you were nowhere to be seen. Usually, you would be doing the same thing as him every morning – looking for an opportunity to touch him a little or talk to him, give him a smile, anything. Today you weren't there at all.

After eating breakfast, Buck decided to go to the sickbay to visit some of his friends that had been there since the last mission. He especially wanted to see Bucky who had his hand slightly injured and was extremely annoyed by that because he didn't want to miss out on any mission.

"How are you feeling?" Buck asked, sitting on the chair next to his friend's bed.

"Like shit, you?" Bucky rolled his eyes.

"I asked about your hand."

"The hand is better but they said I can't go on the next mission tomorrow. I can't let you have your 25th before me for God's sake," Bucky gritted his teeth.

"You're no use with a hand like that, Bucky," Buck teased and pushed his friend gently.

"Thank you for reminding me," Bucky chuckled. "Hey, something's wrong, I can see," he furrowed his brow at the sight of his friend's absent eyes and a worried wrinkle on his forehead.

"It's nothing," Buck refused to whine about not seeing you this morning. Perhaps you were busy and he didn't want to admit how clingy he was becoming.

"Come on," Bucky teased.

"I haven't seen (Y/N) this morning. It's nothing, she's probably busy," Buck admitted and sighed, waiting for his friend to laugh at him. However, Bucky didn't even flinch. He swallowed thickly and cleared his throat like there was something he wanted to say but didn't know how to. "What is it?"

"Well, I've seen her this morning," Bucky whispered and Buck leaned in, intrigued. "She was here, at the sickbay."

"What? Is she sick?" Buck felt his heart speeding up inside his chest. Even if it was just a cold, he didn't want you to feel bad. He hated to see you in any kind of pain.

"I don't know, we didn't talk. She looked weird, though," Bucky admitted. "But it didn't look very serious. I just thought you should know," he shrugged his arms.

"Thanks," Buck stood up and patted his friend's shoulder before turning around to leave the sickbay as soon as possible. He wanted to find you and make sure you were alright even if it would take half a day and cost him a scolding from the Colonel.

On his way out, he spotted two nurses whispering between each other about something but they went quiet when they saw him. However, when he walked out of the sickbay, they went back to gossiping, not realizing that he was still behind the door and could hear them perfectly well.

"She can't hide it forever," one of them whispered. "Jesus, what was she even thinking? She got herself in huge trouble."

"I can't imagine it ending well for her. Unless she got pregnant by the Colonel. Then she's probably safe," the other one nodded. "Who do you think she got pregnant by?"

"Probably him," the first one sighed.

"Colonel?"

"Yeah, she's at his office all the time. Helping with the papers, she says. Mhm, sure. That's what they call it these days."

"It can be one of the pilots, too," the second one was not convinced.

"Please, we're talking about (Y/N) here. She wouldn't go lower than a Major and there aren't any I've seen her with. She has standards, you've seen her. She's so full of herself," the first one laughed.

"You're mean."

"Well, she's a slut."

Buck's eyes widened as his heart skipped a beat. He fought the urge to go back to the sickbay and yell at the rude nurse but he decided to find you as soon as possible instead. He didn't even want to overthink the subject of their gossip. He hoped it was just a gossip and nothing else. Because if it was real… The consequences would be tragic.

He also didn't like what these two women were saying about your realtionship with the Colonel.

Still, the first place he decided to look for you in was Colonel's office. you were spending there almost every day after all... He waited by the corner nervously, thinking of some excuse to make before entering the room but he saw the Colonel leaving the office and addressing you before doing so. Then he disappeared in the corridor and Buck emerged from behind the corner to knock upon the door.

"Come in," he heard your oddly weak voice and he entered the room as fast as possible to close the door behind himself swiftly. "Oh, that's you," your voice sounded tired and raspy. Buck squeezed his eyes and observed you for a while.

You were sitting behind Colonel's desk and working on some papers. Your skin seemed to be a shade paler, you had dark bags under your eyes and your hair was not as neatly combed as usual. Yor fingers were shaking and you didn't even look up at him with your usual smile and bright eyes.

"What's wrong? I've heard you were sick," Buck approached you but you refused to look up. "You don't look well. You shouldn't be working. What is it?"

"Stomach bug. Nothing… It's nothing," your lower lips trembled as you sniffled. "I was throwing up this morning."

"And that's it?" Buck was not convinced.

"That's it," you insited, still refusing to look up.

"I was at the sickbay to visit Bucky. I've overheard two nurses saying very bad things about you," he confessed as his jaw clenched at the memory. That finally made you look up with wet, scared eyed.

"What are you talking about?" your voice trembled.

"That you don't go lower than a Major and you seem to be close with the Colonel," he said way harsher than he intended to.

In fact, he didn't want to say this at all but the nasty feeling of ugly jealousy made his veins burn from the inside as his hands flexed to clench his fists for a second before relaxing them all over again.

God, what was happening to him? He was getting dizzy from all of this. He knew he was in love with you but today's events were just too much to handle and it was before 10am.

"Sounds like I have a reputation of a harlot around here then. I'm sorry that you believe those lies more than you believe me me when I tell you that I love you," you whispered as your lower lip shivered.

"God, I'm sorry, doll. I shouldn't have…" Buck leaned in but you turned your face around. "I'm sorry, I was stupid… I was so jealous… They said you were pregnant with the Colonel… It's so absurd, I should have known better, I'm sorry…" he touched your shoulder and felt your whole body stiffening.

"Well, they were not entirely wrong…" you whispered almost inaudibly and Buck's heart stopped for a moment as his head got dizzy. What did you mean…? You and the Colonel…?

"I'm gonna kill him," he drawled out and stood up with his fists ready to start a fight. You looked up at him like he was crazy.

"What are you on about? Kill who?" you sniffed your tears back.

"Harding. I don't give a damn he's the Colonel," Buck's jaw clenched and your eyes widened. You had never seen him acting like that.

"Baby, you do realize I didn't mean this part of the gossip to be true, right?" you almost smiled despite the tragic situation you had found yourself in.

"What did you mean then?!" Buck nearly lost it. His nerves were a wreck and you weren't helping much.

"I'm pregnant!" you screamed at him and stood up angrily before getting a little dizzy. He stood there with his mouth slightly opened as you finally caught your breath back. "…and it's not with the goddamn Colonel, for God's sake, Buck. You really think of me so low? That I whore around the base? Thank you very much. Exactly what I wanted to hear from the father of my baby," your eyes filled with tears again.

Buck felt like the the stupidest man on the planet Earth at that moment. He swallowed thickly and looked at you with eyes so full of guilt that he reminded you of a lost puppy.

"I'm sorry, baby. I was jealous and it was awfully stupid of me. Of course I don't think that. You're my girl," he reached out his hand to touch you but you moved away and approached the window to look behind it.

"We shouldn't have done that…" you looked down. "Maybe it's true. I am a whore. Because I shouldn't have done that. Even with you."

Buck felt extremely guilty for the whole situation happening. He was standing there, speechless. Trying to find the right words to make it right.

"And I wish I was happy about it. Because I love you and… And under any other circumstances I would love that little baby," you sobbed. "But this is war. I hope you know I wouldn't sleep with you like that if it wasn't for the fact you can die any day… I would wait for the wedding. I hope you know that. I'm so scared, Buck," you turned around to face him. He looked so broken inside that it made you sob even more. "I'm scared of what they'll do when they find out. And I'm scared you might die tomorrow or any other day. And I'll be alone with this mess. Maybe I should… You know…"

"No," he finally spoke up and approached you to grab your hands. This time you allowed him to. "No, you can't do that to our baby. No," he insisted.

You smiled softly when you realized he already cared about your child.

"And I won't let anything happen to you. I'll speak to the Colonel. I think you should just…" he sighed, "…well, go back home."

"No…!" this time you were the one who protested while shaking your head.

"For now, yes," Buck put his hands on your shoulders. "You shouldn't work here. You shouldn't work at all. You should go back to your family and rest. And after my 25 missions I'll come to you. I'll speak to the Colonel, I'll explain it to him carefully. He'll understand."

"What if you don't come to me?" you looked up as a few more tears rolled down your cheeks.

"If I go down and end up in hell, I'm going to crawl out of there on my knees to get back to you," he promised and laid his right hand on your belly. You looked at him lovingly after this confession and finally smiled with a silly smile.

"Wow. Well, if you ended up in hell, I'd quite understand you not coming back to me. No need to be so extra," you tried to make a joke.

"There is absolutely a need to be," Buck leaned in even closer to press his forehead to yours.

That was when the door opened loudly and you two turned around to see Colonel Harding who looked like he had just spotted a ghost.

"What the hell is going on in here?!" he yelled, making you startle a little but Buck's warm hands calmed you down.

"Colonel, we have to talk about something very important," Buck told him with a very serious expression on his face.

And suddenly you felt that everything would be alright because Buck would handle that. He wouldn't let anything bad happen to you or the baby. He would take care of you.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #austin butler x reader #gale cleven x reader #lilysfiction #*buck

[chiefduckgarden]

Repeating Days.

Summary: You and Wanda keep falling into an endless cycle of lies, love and heartbreak. The worst thing is, you don't seem to mind. Based on the song: Repeating days from R5.

A/N: Heyy I'm back!! Tell me what you think, this is a little short but I really liked it! :)

It's almost 6 pm and you just reached your car in the parking lot. Your day has been as stressful as the rest of your week, but luckily it's Friday, so you'll get to rest for two whole days before coming back to the office.

You start the engine of your car, but before you begin to drive, you check your phone hoping to see a notification from Wanda. However, to your dismay, there's still no response from her. She hasn't even seen your message.

"Hey, it's friday, do you want to hang out? I can come by your apartment after work and watch a movie. Or we can go out for dinner."

You read your message once again, hoping that a "typing" bubble would magically appear on the screen. You rest your head on the steering wheel for a few more seconds until you decide that you'll go to her place.

You know the way to her apartment by heart. You've been there so many times that the doorman greets you before letting you in without any restrictions or obstacles. When you reach the elevator doors, the day keeps challenging you as you read the "out of order" sign. The doorman informs you that it has been out of service all day and guides you toward the stairs. You thank him with a half-smile and start walking. Wanda lives on the fourth floor of the building, in apartment 15.

As you're about to reach her floor, you begin to doubt whether you should have brought dinner with you, or at least a bouquet of flowers. You know that Wanda loves spontaneity and thoughtful gestures.

You step out into the hallway, and as you round a corner to finally reach her apartment, you see them. And you understand why Wanda hasn't responded to your messages.

Vision is someone you still haven't managed to completely decipher. His history with Wanda is long and complex, filled with drama you never bothered to fully understand. However, you know enough about him to realize that he loves Wanda. Perhaps as much as you do. The difference is that he had his chance with her and let her go. He held her in his arms and let her slip away.

You freeze for a few seconds. He speaks while she caresses his face. Both look tense. It might sound like a moment that would break your heart, but strangely, that's a scene you've seen several times, more than you'd like.

Perhaps you don't understand the reasons why Vision let go of a woman as spectacular as Wanda, but you do understand one thing: when Vision broke up with Wanda, he knew he could come back to her whenever he needed, and Wanda would accept him with open arms, always.

It seems like hours have passed, but it's only a matter of seconds until she notices your presence. She looks at you with concern and lets go of Vision's face, causing him to turn and look at you too. They both move away slightly before she starts walking towards you.

- Y/N, this is not... You know this isn't what you think... He's just...

You say nothing and start walking again towards the stairs. You run down the four flights of stairs while you hear Wanda shouting from her floor. But you don't stop until you're back in your car. This time you don't second-guess anything and start driving back to your home.

A feeling that you unfortunately know all too well starts filling your chest. Pain, in its purest expression. Disappointment, not just in Wanda, but in yourself too. You know it's not the first time this has happened. You've fled her apartment for the same reason so many times that it feels like deja vu. But Wanda always fixes it, she's very good at talking to you. She convinces you it's nothing, and for some reason, you keep coming back again.

You arrive at the safety of your home and immediately search for the photo of Wanda that's hanging next to your bed. Your entire room is a constant reminder of her existence, so you decide that you must get rid of everything that reminds you of her. You take photo after photo and tear them apart. At least ten photos are damaged before tears blind your eyes, and you collapse onto your bed, crying.

You don't realize you've drifted into slumber until the doorbell startles you awake. If it weren't for your familiarity with this routine, the urgency of the doorbell's sound might have alarmed you. However, you're acutely aware of who stands behind that desperate sound.

You walk through the darkness of your house to the door. A sigh escapes your lips before you open it. Maybe, this time, you shouldn't let her in. But you know yourself too well, so you simply turn the knob and step back as soon as you knob and step back as soon as you allow Wanda to enter. You're tired, both physically and emotionally, so you return to your bed without even looking her in the eyes.

You tangle yourself in your blankets once again, hearing her footsteps in the kitchen before she enters your room. You're not looking at her, but you know she's looking at you, feeling her gaze piercing your back. Wanda takes off her jacket and slips into your bed. Her cold body presses against yours from behind, her arms slipping into yours, seeking your hands. You feel her leave soft kisses at the base of your neck and trailing down to your shoulders.

Only a few seconds are enough for you to know that she's crying. She starts murmuring "I'm sorry" in your ear, leaving tender kisses along the way. You know what comes next. Finally, you turn your body, and she looks directly into your eyes.

-I'm so sorry, dear. Vision showed up unexpectedly and told me he got fired from his job this morning. He's devastated and needed someone to talk to. You know he doesn't have many friends and I... couldn't ask him to leave - she explains to you in a whisper. Due to her tears, you can hardly hear her, but it doesn't matter. You know it doesn't matter because you'll find your way back to her regardless.

You embrace her as you assure her that you understand he's her friend, and that you just had a tough time. She asks if you're okay. You tell her you are, even though you're lying. She knows you're lying, but she accepts it. You couldn't stop loving her even if you tried. Not after all this time.

Both of you know you could never leave her. You ask if you can kiss her, and she agrees. Hungry to have you again.

Two weeks go by and it seems like everything is repeating itself. Except this time, Vision hasn't been fired; instead, he's been evicted from his apartment due to non-payment.

In that moment, you hate that the elevator is still out of order. Going up and down four floors in less than five minutes is exhausting. Wanda chases you again, but you escape in your car once more. This time, your heart clenches at the memory of the two of them embracing. And at that stupid smile on his face.

Wanda knocks on your door, and this time you open it immediately. You want to hear her, you need that explanation to serve as a placebo to quell the pain in your chest. She tells you about hir housing issue. You feel better. You know that explanation will serve you in the coming weeks to alleviate your pain.

You can pretend everything is okay again.

She smiles at you, and you embrace her. She kisses you, and as the kiss becomes more intense, you start to claim her body. You kiss every part of her as if your life depends on it. She surrenders to you, lost in the pleasure your hands provide her. When the euphoria subsides and both of you are naked in your bed, you look into her eyes, and without a second thought, you assert the control you believe you have over her:

- You are mine - you whisper to her.

She looks at you for a few seconds. Wanda can read you like an open book. She knows you're lying when you say she's yours. You're lying to yourself. You're lying to her. But she doesn't tell you, she would never. Especially because she knows a part of you is aware of it. Nonetheless, she nods and you kiss her again.

It's the middle of the night; she's asleep in your arms, but insomnia prevents you from falling asleep. You gaze at her and accept your fate. In that moment, you understand Vision more than you ever had before. You realize that, just like him, you could never let go of Wanda. She has you, but you don't have her. You know that both of you are entwined in a dilemma. Your days repeat with her. You live half a life with a heart hollowed out by her fault, but that doesn't matter because you know she will fill it again. It will empty, and she will fill it again. All in an endless cycle from which you know you can never escape.

You. Wanda. Vision. Everyone. We all fear loneliness. We all fear dying alone. Living alone. You could never live without Wanda. You'd rather keep living in this hopeless cycle with her than live a day without her presence. Because even though she breaks your heart every time, you know you'd do it all over again. You'd live in repetition just to have her for a few hours and pretend she belongs to you. That you both belong to each other completely.

You'd do it all over again.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x y/n #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #marvel #wandavision #elizabeth olsen x reader #lizzie olsen #elizabeth olsen fanfic #elizabeth olsen x you #lizzie olsen x you #lizzie olsen fanfic #lizzie olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x female reader #marvel imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda imagine #mcu fanfiction #wanda x reader #elizabeth olsen imagine #elizabeth olsen #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch

[alphabetboyluvr]

throttle - jjk | four

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

warnings - smut, a lil dirty talk over text, titwank, lil spit, lil degradation, lots of praise <3, handjob, showers, vaginal sex, (1) reference to you up?, jungkook cums 3 times in this one, the oc.... does not. CURIOUS. jaykay is soooo smitten :( Busan is proposed!! oh how our throttle couple luv busan <3, the angst is about to go from a 2 to a 6, jk is the pied piper, jk and cc play the desperation olympics, and they both lose!! namjoon is the worst (calls the oc a sket (twice!))

word count - 10.8k

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

"Look what the cat dragged in," you smile, all big and bashful as soon as you see him.

It's been a little while; too long, you think. Different schedules and busy personal lives have kept you apart - but none of the distance ever matters. It always melts away with one flash of his pearly smile, which he often tries (and fails) to contain around you. 

"I wish," he groans, flopping onto your sofa. You're on the floor, typing away on your laptop, indifferent to the way he just lets himself into your apartment. It's been this way for a while now. "Haven't been near pussy in ages."

You gag, as if he's your brother or something. "Shut the fuck up, Yoongi."

He's dressed down in a pair of jeans and a shirt two sizes too big for him, but you can smell his laundry detergent from where you're sat. He's made an effort.

"You started it," he snorts, eyes not on you, but on your television. It's playing some muted drama that neither of you care for. He knows this, even when he asks you, "Whatcha watching?"

"Dunno," you hum, as predicted. "Just had it on for company."

Yoongi nods, understanding the desire.

He does it too; leaves the television running just so that he doesn't have to be alone with his thoughts.

Things are better these days. He's not as scared as he once was. It's been a couple of weeks, and after all, time heals. Eases. Pacifies.

Yoongi asks what you're doing, and pretends to be shocked when you tell him you're stalking. 

"Who is it this time?"

"Just a guy."

"It's never 'just a guy'."

It's morbid, the curiosity that Yoongi forces himself to endure. It's like your nails have a grasp around his heart, and with every beat of it, they sink further into the muscle. The more attached he becomes, the deeper the pain runs.

You don't realise quite how profoundly his blood turns green. He's good at feigning indifference; good at pretending like it is just a crush.

And so he asks questions because he wants to hurt himself a little bit more. Wants his heart to ache. Wants to feel the discomfort he so closely associates with love. It's reached a point where he thinks love has to hurt, otherwise, it's not real.

"Since when has a guy ever been more than just a guy," you toy back. None of your past lovers have ever lasted too long. You doubt Jungkook will, either. Just the way the cookie crumbles.

"Since you fall in love at the drop of a hat," Yoongi smiles. His eyes are slightly clouded, the sombre vapour of burnt-out desire smoking in them.

"I've never been in love," you retort a little too quickly.

It's not a lie, but it makes way for the admittance of something else instead:  you just love the attention that comes with men fawning after you.

And so you let Yoongi think that you have the capacity within you to love, because you fear that the love he has for you is conditional; transactional.

You just have to trust that the intentions behind acts of love are pure. You have to trust.

This issue with trust is that it's earned, not owed; and nobody has ever earned your trust. Never. Serpents lie beneath roses, and you'll be damned if you pick one either way, 'cause if it ain't a fang, it's a thorn that'll get you instead. 

"Anyways," you hum, not wanting to dwell on the topic. All of your searches of Jungkook's name have garnered minimal results, nothing of which you can be sure relates to him. Now, you need a distraction and Yoongi is as good as any. Your knees click as you stretch out, and Yoongi winces at the sound, before you plonk yourself down on the sofa next to him. "What shall we order for dinner?"

There's a howl of wind sneaking between the cracks in your window panes; a stark reminder that winter is still here, and it's still as bitter as ever. Like the river you walk across on a near-daily basis, your heart will take a while to thaw.

But as with all seasons, winter will mollify; and perhaps so will the ice chains that wrap themselves around your warmest muscle. Maybe. The way Jungkook hugs around your chest when he takes you from behind already has the ice weeping in the dark of night. You think it's just some kind of placebo effect. Best not to get carried away with sensation. 

Yoongi says something, but you're not listening. All you can hear is the soft splatter of water dripping from the ice; right down onto the chime that's oscillating in your stomach again. Fuck.

Across the street from your apartment complex sits a black SsangYong. It lurks in the shadows; silent, sinister, stalking.

A curt snap echoes through the car, as Namjoon breaks a Pepero stick in half, much to Jungkook's annoyance. 

That's literally not how you eat them, he seethes internally. His nostrils are a little flared, and his eyes are hard as they stare out the window and across to the stairs that lead up to your entryway. It has a plain end for a reason.

Namjoon knows this, obviously. Doesn't care. Can sense the way it's getting under Jungkook's skin, so he does it again.

"No point in us being here," Jungkook eventually huffs, channelling his disdain into something - anything - that isn't how fucking annoying Namjoon is. It's been nearly an hour.

"Whoever owns that heap of shit has to come out, soon," Namjoon says of the Mini parked outside of your apartment block. He mutters under his breath for what must be the millionth time, "Fuckin' Ajumma's car."

"It's a John Cooper Works," Jungkook says a little flippantly. He's not impressed, not by any means, but he knows it isn't something to turn his nose up at. Might look like the kind of thing his mother would have loved, but it packs a punch. Limited edition, factory-grade. One of only two thousand. A mean little beast that'd give his Pony a run for its money, even with the mods.

"Okay? Tell Mr John Cooper that it's still an Ajumma's car," Namjoon shrugs. He doesn't give a shit about imports. They're all weak in comparison to the homegrown beauties he likes to drive. Jungkook could argue for days that he's wrong, but Namjoon simply wouldn't bother to listen - so what was the point? "Anyways," he continues, snapping another chocolate coated stick. It's about now that Jungkook wishes Peperos would have sharp ends so that he could stick them in his ears. "Either the fucker who drives it comes out now, or he says inside and carries on railing the sket until the sun comes up. Doesn't matter which. We've got a car to keep tabs on."

"You don't know he's fucking her-"

"We've both seen her," Namjoon scoffs, mouth half full, a little biscuit dust puffing out from his plump lips. "He's screwing the absolute fuck out of her."

"What does that even mean?" Jungkook's nose really is upturned, now. "You're just being vulgar for the sake-"

"Oh, give over. What was the first thing you said about her?"

"I-"

"Prissy bitch," Namjoon imitates. "Stick up her ass - pretty good ass though."

It almost makes Jungkook laugh, because while his former self isn't wrong (he thinks your ass is a gift from the Gods), he knows that it's your tits he could worship all day long. 

If it were him in your apartment, he knows he'd be doing just that. Praising you; Worshipping, devoting, revering. He's never believed in God, not really. Never prays, never looks to the sky and mumbles words of desperation; but when he's beneath you, he finds himself beseeching. Imploring the man in the sky to let him feel the way that he feels when he's inside of you forever. Sometimes he wonders if you must be what heaven feels like. Knows he'd sacrafice himself for it. For you.

In theory, at least. Fears if he tells Namjoon this, he'll have to experience it in practise. He's not ready to, not yet. Just in case he's wrong, and he really does lose the closest thing to heaven that he's ever known.

"I just think we're going to an awful lot of effort for this," he deflects. "The more we know about this girl, the more variables we have to consider, and the less likely it is that we can actually get this shit done."

"We knew less last time," Namjoon says without skipping a beat. He knows this game better than most. Knows that it's imperative that they resolve the mess they made in the gas station as quickly as possible. "And look at where that got us - beating up some fuckin' dude who didn't have a clue what was going on."

"You didn't have to go so hard on him."

"I did. You know I did."

Silence resumes, and remains that way until Namjoon whacks Jungkook on his chest with the back of his hand a few hours later. His attention is diverted from his phone, which drops to his laps as his neck almost snaps to look in the direction of your apartment.

You're laughing as you walk down the stairs from your entryway. Jungkook thinks he can hear you. 

He can't. He just remembers. Know the way it almost sounds like you're hiccuping when you start struggling to draw more air into your lungs, too happy to focus on keeping yourself alive.

Your body leans into the guy you're with, and there's an ease to the way you are together, one that has Jungkook feeling all uneasy. He adjusts in his seat - earns himself a hiss from Namjoon for being 'distracting' - and tries to focus on anything but the way you pull the guy in for a hug. It's not necessarily anything more than platonic, but it's not the hug of a stranger, either.

"It's him," Namjoon's voice is low, barely a vibration between his lips. "Guy from the gas station. Sket is shitting where she eats." He laughs. "Un-fucking-believable."

Jungkook says nothing. It's a little hard to speak with the weight of the world crashing down on your lungs, though.

Instead he simply nods, and reaches for his phone.

꾹: i gotta see you.

꾹: think i'm going crazy without you.

You don't reply until you're inside, clearing up the remains of the food you'd shared with Yoongi.

You: i'm not a therapist :/

꾹: please.

You: my place or yours?

꾹: mine.

When Namjoon asks who Jungkook is texting, he lies. 

"Just Jin. Says if we have a visual on the driver, we're good to go."

"Good to go?" The question is asked an octave or so higher than Namjoon's usual deep drawl, surprised at such an instruction. "Thought we had to tail?"

Jungkook shrugs. "Change of plan. Says Kang ain't around to report to, so it doesn't matter what we do."

His lies will catch up with him eventually, but not today. 

Today, Jungkook gets to pretend like everything is okay for just a little while longer. He's lucky that Jin trusts him enough to get the job done. He won't ask questions, will just know that whatever reason Jungkook had to lie will be worth it in the long run. He's a good worker, part of the team. He'd never intentionally sabotage them.

Or at least, he was a good worker. Was part of the team. Was never one to sabotage. Was one to play by the rules, and always win.

But Jungkook is playing games with trick dice, now. Rolling doubles every single time. He's gonna be the first to reach the exit line, but he's gonna reach it alone.

"Alright," Namjoon sighs, starting the engine up. The lights from his headlamps flare in front of the vehicle, flooding the desolate road. It's always quiet around these parts after it hits midnight.

A little off the beaten track, your place is on the backstreets; somewhere inconspicuous. Somewhere easily hidden. Concealed. The daughter of a politician disguised in breadline poverty. 

Jungkook kind of hates that he knows where you live.

Not because he doesn't want to know, but because you haven't shown him. You've always gone back to his. He wouldn't suggest anything else, for fear of being caught without reason down around your side of town. There are only so many times he can lie about late-night boxing sessions without someone catching on.

"What a waste of an evening," Namjoon huffs a little more. He's a smart guy, smarter than Jungkook and probably every other fucker who congregates at Old Kang's place, but he's credulous to an absolute fault when it comes to the fuckers he runs the streets with. Would never betray a single one of them - not even Jungkook.

"It was past your bedtime, like, three hours ago. Consider yourself lucky that you got to stay out and play for this long," Jungkook ribs. 

See, Namjoon's partner doesn't like him staying out so late. They worry. Blow up his phone, not to control, but out of concern. They've seen the dark side of the business that the boys are caught up in, and don't want that darkness to stain the colours of the man they love. 

It's a mean jibe, and between close friends, it would have been funny -but the pair of them haven't laughed together in weeks.

Not since Jungkook fucked Namjoon's younger sister.

He hadn't meant for it to go as far as it had, but she was keen and he was horny. What's a boy to do?

They'd been in the same year group at school, so it's not like it was the most absurd pairing in the world. Never been friends, not really, but knew each other well enough that they always managed to strike up a conversation after a few drinks.

She was always hanging around the bars the boy went to, and Jungkook had been letting his hair down; one last night of freedom before he had to knuckle down and start the job Kang was assigning them.

He'll never admit it, but your assumptions about him on the first night you met were right. The KNJ on his phone was a FWB turned far too clingy: Kim Naejeon.

Needless to say, Namjoon hasn't exactly been Jungkook's biggest fan since he found out. Such is life.

Jungkook's phone buzzes in his lap, and he's relieved to see two little c's on the screen where the message ID is.

You: time?

꾹: just on my way home.

꾹: lemme send a taxi to yours.

Sat on your floor again, laptop open with your last search - jungkook, daegu, pony - on screen, you find yourself deafened by the chime in your stomach. It rings like the theme to a studio ghibli film, all pompous and ridiculous, and warm and lovely. 

You sound like a banshee, squeaking with badly handled excitement. The shrill noise that escapes your lips as you throw your phone onto the sofa is borderline psychotic.

You never get like this over a boy.

You don't actually think you've ever squealed over a boy before, but one small act of chivalry - the bare minimum - has you doing somersaults.

It's funny, because it's not like he's the first guy to ever suggest sending a taxi your way. Unlike all of Yoongi's offers, though, you accept. You play it all cool and coy by simply sending him through your address, not like he needs it.

꾹: on its way.

꾹: i can't wait to see you.

You're not really sure how to deal with such a declaration. It's needy and pathetic and if it were any other boy, it would have you throwing up in your mouth - but it's not just any boy. It's him. 

You:  someone's a little desperate.

You don't have it in you to play nice, even if your grin is wider than the river behind your apartment block. Jungkook doesn't expect any less. In fact, he smiles when the message comes through - and quickly stiffens his cheeks again, not wanting Namjoon to make a comment.

꾹: desperate? 

꾹: i'm not sure this is a game you want to play, CC.

Oh, how wrong he is.

You:  i love games.

The double-entendre isn't lost on him, but any ability to not let you affect him is. Blood pumps around his body faster. Harder. It rushes, almost, with a single destination in mind. Makes him adjust ever so slightly in his seat, his spare hand coming to rest between his legs. He used to think he had self-control, but you're constantly surprising him. 

He's learnt more about himself since he met you than he has in years. Realised that he isn't maybe who he thinks he is. Doesn't dwell on it, though, 'cause he enjoys the way it feels when the crotch of his trousers gets tighter.

꾹: i only like them when i win.

You:  i only ever win.

꾹:we'll see about that tonight.

You: oh?

꾹: see who really is the desperate one.

You:  its you :) x

The taxi arrives far faster than you expect, but Jungkook is pleased when he checks the app and sees the car en-route to his. He takes a note of the number plate and the registered driver. Doesn't trust the drivers around here. They're too fast without enough skill, he always thinks. Has lost count of the number of busses he's seen rear-end asshole taxi drivers. Luckily the roads are dead at this time of night, but he'll be damned if anything happens to you.

꾹: sure about that?

꾹: i know a few ways to get you a little desperate.

You:  you don't know shit.

꾹: i know you get a little desperate when my hand is round your throat.

You: bullshit.

꾹: i know you get incredibly desperate when my fingers are in your mouth.

You:  your fingers have never been in my mouth.

It's a lie. Of course it is. It's kinda become rare for the two of you to fuck without them being in your mouth at some point or another, whether it's to clean them off or just to give him a visual of just how devoted you look when he does it. He loves it and so do you.

꾹: no?

Jungkook almost ignores Namjoon as he asks, "what are you smiling at?", only to tell him that it's none of his business, lowering the brightness of his screen and clicking through into his camera roll.

He's a visual guy. Likes the things he can see. Tangible stuff. The photo that comes through to your phone has you flustered.

It's just the lower half of your face, and Jungkook's distinctive, tattooed hands in your mouth. There's a sheen to your lips. His fingers, too.

It's alarming how quickly you've become so comfortable with him. You barely know the guy. Shame that the alarm bells are always muted by the chime in your stomach.

You: must be some other girl ;)

꾹: told you already, CC.

꾹: i'm not interested in any other girls.

꾹: i only wanna see you.

When a picture of your legs, crossed and poised prettily in the back of the taxi, comes through to his phone, he's pleased. You're wearing tights. It's one of his favourite things a girl can wear - though he's not really sure why. He just loves how soft they are, how smooth they feel against his skin. Has him thinking about running his hands up and down them, and the way he knows you'll be looking all smug when he does so.

You:  i'll see u soon x

You:  desperate ;)

Jungkook thinks about locking his phone. Thinks about leaving you hanging. Thinks about the fact it will probably put you on edge a little if he doesn't reply - but he's weak. Knows that not replying will just put him on edge instead.

꾹: will it make you feel better if i admit it?

You:  yes.

꾹: fine.

꾹: been thinking about you since the moment you left my apartment last.

꾹: impossible not to when my fucking pillows smell like you.

꾹: think about you when i smell gasoline at kangs.

꾹: think about you when i stop at red lights.

꾹: also think about how fucking wet you were the last time we stopped at one.

꾹: i'm at a red light right now.

꾹: god, i gotta fuck you.

You:  told you you were desperate :) 

꾹: i am.

You:  how do you want me tonight?

꾹: naked.

You:  that goes without saying, no?

꾹: naked and begging.

You:  i don't beg.

You: not for any man.

꾹: c'mon, CC. a little reciprocation goes a long way.

꾹: you got me on my metaphorical knees.

꾹: be nice of you to get on yours.

You roll your eyes as the taxi rolls to a stop downtown, just by Jungkooks place. It parks on the wrong side of the street, but you pay it no notice. Chalk it up to a GPS error on the app.

You:  i'm pulling up to yours now. you home yet?

꾹: not yet. be about 5. let yourself in. code is 0901.

There's a casual intimacy to the way in which Jungkook trusts you with his door code. It's an act of convenience, not anything to read too much into, but you're a creature of habit. Assumptions are your bread and butter. If there are conclusions to be jumped to, you're getting your pole vault out. Setting a new PB. Going for the world record.

So no, it doesn't have to mean anything. You know it probably doesn't - but you indulge in the 'what if' just for the hell of it.

His apartment is cold, the ondol off, one of the windows cracked open ever so slightly to let the air out. Winters are dry round these parts, and Jungkook has an odd paranoia around developing black mould in his apartment. It's not unwarranted - he's pretty sure his last place made him sick because of it. Knows for certain that it made his mother weaker before she passed. Refuses to let history ever repeat itself.

You're unaware of this, though, and slide the window shut. It's the height of winter, and he knows damn well if he's gonna get lucky tonight that it's gotta be a little bit warmer in his apartment.

You take a moment to refamiliarise yourself with his place. There's not much. A little furniture, some prints you recognise from the market downtown up on his wall. There are no personal artifacts, though. No more clues as to who Jungkook really is. You'll have him naked tonight, granted, but you won't have him naked. He won't be vulnerable; laid bare.

But you're not exactly gonna complain when you have him bare in the other sense.

In fact, you think you much prefer it this way. It'll be easier to let him go when the time inevitably comes.

You toss your coat on his desk chair and your shoes are kicked beneath it, not caring much for neatness. The rest of your clothes follow suit, and then you're waiting, all desperate and pliant, just like he asked for. 

Though you're not one to beg, you're aware of how nicely he had requested - and how hot and bothered he had gotten you en-route to his place.

There's a thrum in your chest, and it beats to the same harmonious melody that the chime in your stomach produces.

Back straight, feathers smoothed, you're a songbird waiting for someone to hear your call. It only takes a few moments, the beep of Jungkook's keypad echoing through the door as he punches in the code adding a new layer to your song.

"Hey," he calls through, his voice muffled slightly through the sliding partition doors. The glass is frosted, but you can make out his silhouette as he kicks his shoes off by the door. "Just been on a job. Emergency at an office building downtown. Some bad wires. Tripped."

The lies roll off his tongue like butter in a hot pan. They sizzle. Spit. Burn you and scar you with the portrayal of a man who isn't who he pretends to be.

Thing is, Jungkook is exactly who he pretends to be.

He really does get too hot in the night, and genuinely does find videos of kids falling over far funnier than he knows he should. His hair sticks up on end when he wakes up, and he loves his car more than life itself. The way he winces after taking shots, and his dimples, which form in moments of contemplation beneath his cheeks, are entirely natural to him.

None of it - none of him - is a lie. At his core, Jungkook is the idea in your head; the yellow of midafternoon sun before it sets.

He's the amber light that flashes before fading into red. 

That's his issue, though. Inevitably, he will always, unavoidably, turn red.

Jungkook likes to tell himself he's not a bad person. He just does bad things, occasionally. But don't we all?

Yeah, the voice in his head would rationalise. But bad things are sneakily not paying for plastic carrier bags at supermarket self-checkouts, or failing to tell a friend they have food stuck in their teeth. Not petty violent crimes and conspiracy to-

"Took your time," you flirt.

It takes him longer than he'd like to get from his kitchen and to where you are, his laces proving to be a bit of a bitch when he's in a hurry. He's dressed down, a pair of light wash jeans clinging to his thighs for dear life, a baggy grey sweater hiding that itty bitty waist of his.

You find yourself smiling, his presence bringing more than just the promise of satisfied desire.

It's dangerous how you can't hear anything other than the chime in your stomach whenever you see him. Might deafen you one day. Or maybe you'll hear it so often that it will just fade into white noise. Not a favourable outcome, not by any stretch of the imagination.

"Holy fuckin' shit."

You tilt your head and feign confusion, as if you don't know why he's salivating like a dog being offered a bone. You're on your knees, as requested, palms flat on the tops of your thighs; not naked, but you may as well be. A lace red set leaves little to the imagination, one of his flannel shirts draped over your shoulders to keep you warm - but also 'cause he seems like the kind of guy to eat that shit up.

So while you're right where he wanted you, as he struggles to form a coherent sentence, he's exactly where you wanted him.

Finally, he finds a few words.

"Desperation looks good on you, CC."

Arrogant son of a bitch, you think, but there's a grin on your lips that you just can't hide. 

"Mmm," you flirt, not caring to drag things out. You want him so badly that hard to get seems like a dumb idea. "Maybe - but I think you'll find I look better on your dick."

His shoulders pull up towards his ears, head dropping as a small laugh vibrates in his throat at the boldness of such a statement.

"You're not wrong - but I like this," he says, closing the space between you. His voice is soft, as one of his hands cups your cheek and angles your jaw upwards so that you're looking directly at him. His thumb traces your bottom lip, and - almost like you've been conditioned - your lips part for it to rest on your tongue. "I like this a lot."

Your lips close around it, tongue massaging his thumb as you slowly suck on it.

It's gentle, and warm, and - fuck - he's spent so long thinking about the way your mouth feels but it never compares to actually experiencing it. Your lips vibrate as you hum, satisfied with the effect you seem to be having on him.

His lips are parted, eyes void of all thoughts, as if you've bewitched him. Maybe you have. He wouldn't put it past you. There's something dark behind your eyes, something he doesn't quite understand. Something he knows better than to let himself study for too long.

Jungkook's room is dark, the glow of his fairy lights dousing him in soft reservoirs of gold. The light from his kitchen pours in behind him, his back to the clouded screen door, a halo circling around his darling blonde waves. Your eyes must be betraying you, you think, 'cause there's no way a man this heavenly exists. It's impossible.

"Bet you're wet, aren't you?" he toys, voice low, a teasing grin on those pretty pink lips of his. He may look like an angel, but there's a pair of horns hidden beneath his curls.

There's no hesitation as you nod, vocalisations cut short thanks to his thumb remaining snug between your lips. Why lie? He wants you desperate, so he's getting exactly that. You think he deserves it. Think he always makes you feel good, so why not indulge him in this little fantasy? You can play desperate, if he really wants.

"Show me," he says so quietly it's almost a whisper; almost as if he doesn't believe he's asking you to do such a thing for him. It's not like it would be the most outlandish exchange the pair of you have had together, but the vulnerability is never easy. 

Never easy to ask for, never easy to give. Especially not when Jungkook is harbouring secrets that he knows would shatter the fortress walls he's built up around the pair of you. 

You're unaware of this as your hand creeps between your thighs, to where a mess is pooling in your panties. 

It annoys you just how eager you are for him. You wish you weren't; wish he had to work for it. The tips of your fingers push against your entrance, but it's all just for show - you've been wet since the moment he first messaged you that evening. 

You let your eyes fall to his crotch. It's strained, the pale denim doing an awful job at hiding how hard he is. He's been plump the entire journey home, but now that he's here - now that you're looking like that - he's solid.

He watches you, the way you move, the slight heave of your chest, and knows that you're down just as bad as he is. You wouldn't be on your knees if you weren't. In fact, you wouldn't be here, full stop.

You reach for his belt and set about getting to work immediately. His jeans are pushed to midway down his thighs, boxers following suit. The way his cock springs out of them, all fat and proud, has you salivating.

And so it's only fair that you take it in your mouth as soon as you can.

He reaches behind you and tweaks at the clasp of your bra. It loosens almost instantly, and you hum in approval of how easily he managed to do that. You let the straps slide down your arms, his cock still in your mouth as you toss it to the side.

"Between them," he instructs.

It's tempting to just do as he says. Irresistible, almost. You want him between your tits just as much as he wants to be there, but you want him more vocal. Want him begging. It's his own fault for getting you into such a submissive position. It's a flaw, the way you need to level the playing field, but one that he never fails to deliver on.

"C'mon, CC," he whispers, voice dulcet, trapped in his throat as he suppresses a moan. "Put my cock between your tits."

Your hands fall from the backs of his thighs to play with your breasts, your nipples hard and eager for him. Vibrating around his mouth as you moan, you're pleased with the grip he has on your hair. It tightens, and when he speaks, you're convinced his voice could make you cum alone, "I'm not gonna ask you again."

His cock takes a few more strokes of your hot mouth before you withdraw, stiff and flushed in front of you. He encourages you up so that you're sat on your knees, ass up instead of resting on your ankles as it had been. There's a string of your slick running from your heels to your pussy, the mess desperately seeping from you. Jungkook can't see it, isn't aware of it, so before you do anything, you dip two of your fingers between your folds to gather it up. He watches with laboured breaths.

You don't drop contact with his eyes, not even when they're trained on your fingers. He watches as you hold them up, glittering from the reflection of his fairy lights, before your tongue licks them clean. His cock jerks, the visual stimulation building his need to come undone by tenfold.

There's a little bit of your slickness still on your fingers when you pump his cock, once, twice, three times. 

"Sorry, baby," you toy with the term of endearment, the groan he exhales when you say it confirming that you need to call him sweet nothings more often. "Where did you want your cock, again?"

He's been avoiding touching your chest, not wanting to take control of the situation, but your shoulders roll back just a little, your soft mounds his for the taking. His grip drops from your hair, the tips of his fingers ghosting your chest. He runs them delicately across your stiff nipples, his touch so minimal that you feel yourself leak, pussy throbbing, desperate for more.

Resting perfectly between his index finger and thumb, your nipples are pulled ever so slightly, before he finally indulges himself and cups your tits like he so desperately wants to. He holds them together and wobbles them, obsessed with how soft they are. He edges closer, the tip of his cock nudging against your cleavage. There's a small trail of precum leaking from his tip, the sheen now coating your skin. "Right there."

Spit gathers and pools in your mouth, lips pouting as you let it drip onto your tits. Jungkook groans, his hips pushing his cock further onto your chest. You hold your tits apart, his leaking crown kissing your sternum before you angle him upwards. The soft, pillowy cushions press around his thick shaft, keeping him firmly in place.

"That's it, baby," he mewls as you spit again, this time onto the head of his cock. You drop your gaze and lower your head, tongue flat as it licks the tip, spreading your spit. His hips are jerking against you, his foreskin nestled in place, cock tugging against itself.

"Look at me," he says quietly, as dulcet as the atmosphere in his room. Your eyes meet his, as your hands firmly jiggle your cleavage. His mouth hangs ajar, brows knotted in such a way you think he looks like his mind is all tangled up. You're not wrong - he can't think straight like this. All he can think about is how much he wants to fuck you in every single capacity he can. "That's it."

You grin, but try to hide it. "You like my tits, huh?"

Jungkook wants to roll his eyes, and almost does - but then you spit again, the pace of your jiggling hands quickening, and he finds himself doubling over. 

"Fuck," he whines, completely undignified. Any strong, stable demeanour he has feigned is lost as his cock gets slippery, covered in your spit, being massaged by your tits. "Spit."

The momentum is retained, but it's getting sloppier. There's limited friction, your spit acting as the perfect lube for him to fuck your tits. He doesn't really know what to do with himself, how to withhold himself from spilling onto your chest, but he's all hot and bothered. He isn't gonna last long.

"Bed," he husks, pulling away from you, not even registering the fact he's helping you up. He just kind of does it, his mind entirely on where he wants to be. "On your back."

You do as you're told, your bare back hitting his freshly laundered duvet as your head nestles into his mountain of pillows. His legs straddle either side of your chest, movements frantic as he traps his cock between your tits once more. He's in control, the pace entirely set by him, his large hands gripping the flesh of your chest like he normally does your waist. 

"Shit," he hisses. "Fuckin' love your tits."

Your hands grip his ass, encouraging his movements, before one of them roams to toy with your clit. The change in your moans is noticed by Jungkook, who glances back to check you're doing what he thinks you are. Suspicions confirmed, he laughs. "Dirty bitch," he keens. "Love being owned by my cock, don't you?"

You pause, and Jungkook notices a look in your eyes. It's one he knows well; one he enjoys. Nonetheless, one that panics him when he's in such a compromising position, because it looks like you've just been challenged.

With a pathetic, pouty mewl, you push your fingers into yourself. It's quick, your fingers pumping frantically to build enough slickness on them to wipe the smirk off Jungkooks face.

The hand that's still on his ass squeezes, your nails indenting him ever so slightly. He hisses, a lopsided grin on his lips as he continues to fuck your chest - until the feeling of your soaked fingers stroking his taint has him stuttering.

You apply a little pressure, the pump of his cock slow between your tits. His breaths are laboured. It almost sounds like he gasping for air, unable to concentrate on anything but the sensation of you.

Brows furrowed, eyes wide, you pout. "Thought I was being owned by your cock, baby?" You tease him, and are met with him cursing you out, a saccharine smile on his lips.

"Fucking hate you," he laughs, abs shuddering as your fingers trails further up. They're stroking, caressing, toying - and they don't stop. Not until they reach the tight muscle of his that you're just dying to penetrate. He's silent now. Doesn't want to tell you that he wants it, but fuck it, he does. He pulls back, eyes on yours. There's a hint of a nod, but you're not gonna do anything too daring unless he explicitly asks for it.

Your soaked finger presses against him, cautious not to take it too far. You're still learning each other; what you both like, and you aren't sure where his limits lie.

"Yes? No?" you question, eyes earnest. His ass has never been explicitly discussed between the pair of you, but he also never ruled it out, either.

He's quiet, but smiles when he shakes his head. "Not yet, C. Another time, though."

"I'll hold you to that," you tease, curious about his desires. You wanna know all the ways you can get him off, and you think you'll be willing to do almost anything. In fact, you know you will. All he has to do is say the word, and your tongue will be wherever he wants it.

His eyes roll back, and so do his hips. "And I'll hold you to the offer."

It's a rarity, he's found, for girls to be so bold. He's always had to be the one to initiate his own pleasure, or to just finish quicker than he'd like because his partner was already done. He likes this about you. Likes that you like to fuck. Likes that you apparently, for whatever reason, seem to especially like fucking him.

It's thoughts like these - something about luck, fate - that plague his mind as he pushes his cock between your tits again. It's fast, and it's sloppy, and it's wet, and soon enough, he isn't thinking at all. All he can do is feel - your warmth, your softness - and then all he can feel is how fucking good it is to be with you.

When he comes, he comes hard. It hits your throat, coating you in everything he is. A moan catches in his throat, eyes closed, hands pushing your tits so tight together that it fucking hurts - but he's shaking, and you know that his orgasm has him unable to realise just how strong his grip is. 

It's not till he looks down at you, all breathless and blushed that he realises. There's a sheen on your chest, and he knows better than to dirty you all over again - but he's a creature of habit. His grip loosens, chest heaving as his hands begin to stroke at your tits. They fill his palms, overspill blooming between his spread fingers as he gently remedies them of his strength. It's unintentional, though not minded, how he spreads his cum as he does so. 

You try and keep a straight face, but it's impossible, and then you're both laughing. It echoes around his room like the missing instrument to the song in your stomach. You aren't really sure why you're laughing. Nor is he. You're just happy. The pair of you remain this way for a moment or so, casually enamoured with how easy things are; how easy they could be.

"C'mon, CC," he speaks fondly, but spanks your titty for the fun of it regardless. "Let's get you cleaned up."

There's a tender nature to the way Jungkook moves your body. So docile, he's a world away from the version of himself that you'd just had in his bed.

This Jungkook - the one gently pulling your hair back so it doesn't get too wet while you wait for the shower to fully heat up - is so well mannered that you couldn't imagine him cursing, let alone calling you a bitch during sex.

Something about it, about him, has you feeling far more infatuated than you should be at this stage.

You're not ready for all this. Not prepared for the way you're feeling. It scares you. Gets you wanting to grab the towel and make a swift exit - but then he kisses your neck, hands on your hips, chest pressed into your back, and you realise that there's no place you'd rather be.

He reaches out to check the temperature of the water that's steaming into his bathroom, and decides it's just right. It's not that the water is particularly hot, just that his bathroom is bloody freezing. 

Your reflection in his mirror is a vision of beauty; eyes trained on him, skin tainted by what would have been his legacy. Part of him doesn't want to wash it away. Just wants to marvel at you. Study the way your skin dimples and bumps when you're cold; then remembers that you can't cum when you're cold, so you probably aren't enjoying this as much as he is. He lifts the showerhead from its holder, and lets the water pour over you, and you alone.

The warmth has your shoulders easing almost instantly, and Jungkook feels a little guilty for having kept you cold so selfishly.

He's quiet as he rinses himself from you, contemplative dimples perching themselves beneath his cheeks. He barely utters a word for the entire shower; just peppers your shoulders in kisses.

It's not till you turn to face him, taking the showerhead from his hand and begin rinsing his body that he finally speaks up.

He takes a moment to study you first; watch the way your eyes glaze over his body, following the trajectory of the water, making sure you don't miss a single inch of his skin. Your lashes are dark, hiding your eyes from him, and he doesn't like it. Instinctively, his hands cup your jaw, bringing your eyes to his.

"Thank you."

His lips are on yours, soft, no pressure - and then they're not. They're trailing down your neck instead, as if he can't decide which part of you he wants to devour.

'All of you' is the correct answer, but he eats for pleasure, not for sustenance.

Easily, he could have you for everything that you are within a few seconds - but he wants to savour you. Wants to hear the way your breath hitches as his tongue flicks against your earlobe; feel your fingers dig into his scalp as he paws at your round ass. He wants the memory of your body in his hands, 'cause he fears you're like sand, and that his grasp won't be able to keep hold of you forever.

His bathroom is cramped, more like a wetroom, and the same grey tiles are on the walls that are on the floor. Shower attached to the sink, it's the standard for one-room apartments around these parts.

Yours is the same - but you do have the added luxury of boujie conditioners and loofas to soften the blow.

Jungkook has a 2-in-1 body wash and shampoo combo, and doesn't see the point in fancy scrubs when the labour of his job leaves his hands all rough anyway.

In your right mind, you'd moan about it. Tell him that he's such a boy, or that next time, he's coming to yours for a shower - but you're distracted by the hardness of his cock against your stomach and his hands cupping at your chest while he kisses you. The stream of water makes it borderline impossible to open your eyes, so you revel in the way it feels to be overwhelmed by everything he is.

"Again?" You mumble into his lips, to which you're met with a nod.

You slip your rings off and hear them clink against the porcelain of his sink, praying that your aim is correct and they won't end up down the drain. He hums a small purr of confusion, questioning your actions, and then groans an 'oh' into your mouth when your hand clasps around the base of his cock.

"Gentle," he reminds you, still sensitive but desperate for you once more.

His lips leave yours, head tilting back as he revels in your touch. Neither of you speak, but there's really not much to say. You'd just be making noise for the sake of it.

Regardless, there's a weight in your chest, clamping down on your lungs, that makes talking seem impossible. Might be trepidation. Might be nothing at all - but it sure does feel like something.

You marvel at the column of his thick neck as it stretches back, and think how pretty it would look covered in purple and pink, the bruise of your intimacy staining his skin just like it has done your heart.

Your movements pause when you realise you're thinking about your fucking heart. You're not sappy. You don't attribute sex to love, and the idea of even falling in love has you wanting to run for the hills.

It's been said before that the heart is just a muscle. It has no real bearing on your emotions, nor your amatory exploits.

But when the thoughts of your feelings cloud your mind with dainty pink vapours, all sparkly and strawberry scented, you can't help but feel like you're in danger.

In your chest, you can feel your heart ache.

So yeah, it is just a muscle, but muscles get worn out.

Jungkook notices your hesitation. He casts his eyes down to check you're okay. His crown rests against the wet tiles, water-saturated hair stuck to his face, lashes damp and lips all pouty. The man is a vision. Naked, bare, vulnerable. Yours for the taking, or so it seems. His eyes are heavy-lidded, deep brown; sweet as chocolate, sinful as straight whisky.

"You good?" He asks quietly, only for you to nod and pick the pace up again. His eyes stay on yours as a laboured grunt escapes his lips, brows pinching together. The way you feel around him is so good. Not too tight, just the way he likes it. Fingers all dainty, nails painted red, it's a sight he thinks about when he's alone more than he cares to admit. He's thick and hot in your grasp, working his foreskin up and down his shaft.

There are goosebumps on your skin, body positioned just out of the shower stream because you wanted to look at him; watch as you wound him up, just to make him unravel again. He pulls you closer, hands cupping your jaw as he kisses you, until you're beneath the water again.

His tongue is in your mouth as his hand drops to meet yours. So much larger than your own, his fingers clasp around yours and joins the effort, speeding up. He doesn't say anything else, but he's struggling to kiss you, now. His lips are ajar, resting against yours, little purrs of satisfaction finding a home on your tongue.

"Yeah?" You encourage a little breathlessly, as if you're the one moments away from ruin. "That's it, Kook."

He nods, as the hand that isn't on yours tangles in the back of your hair to keep you close. His hand works to increase the pace, making it a little rougher. There's a wetness between your legs that isn't from the shower, but you're too focused on him - on making him feel good, on being what he needs - to bother doing anything about it. He'll return the favour later, you're sure. He always does.

His grip on your hand loosens, leaving it up to you to finish the job. It only takes a second or two, and then you're milking him, thick white cum desecrating your hand and spurting into your stomach. There's not much, most of it spent on your chest earlier. He shudders, one of his legs a little more so than the other, his moans lost in the pitter-patter of the shower until they become nothing more than hot, heavy breaths.

And then, because quite frankly he doesn't know how to articulate how good, how fucking precious, how god damn infuriatingly beautiful you are, he kisses you again. Though his tongue is soft as it strokes against yours, his piercing is hard - much like his cock which is still firm against your stomach. He encourages your arms up and around his neck, hugging tightly. Your chest presses to his, nipples hard, tits pillowy and soft, and Jungkook swears he'll risk it all for you.

Thinks it would be worth it.

He'd do this wherever with you; in his crappy apartment, in a hotel he'll pay far too much for, in a derelict motel that hides you both when it inevitably becomes time to run.

Thing is, he knows you now. Knows you'll never run with him. Knows that when you find out, he'll never get to do this ever again. It makes him want to cry. Makes him wanna get on his knees and beg for forgiveness before you even know you're mad at him.

You don't forgive. You don't forget, either. You wouldn't be working in a shitty GS25 if you did. He knows this. Knows that as soon as the truth is out, so is he.

And so Jungkook lies. "Come to Busan with me."

Your noses are nestled together, and you can feel his words against your lips. The shower keeps on pouring, but it won't cleanse him of his sins. The water still runs red, even if you can't see it. 

"Busan?"

He nods, steals a kiss, and begins to build upon the weak foundations he's formed. "I gotta go visit home. Been putting it off. Think it'll be more bearable with you there."

You kiss him back. Partially because you want to, but mainly because you don't know what the fuck to say. Your heart rate has doubled. Trebled. In fact, you're not sure it's beating anymore.

Family isn't a subject either of you has divulged in, not really. You fear that him opening up requires reciprocation, and that's just not something you're willing to give. Not to him, nor anyone else for that matter.

"When?" You finally murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek before pulling away to slip your rings back onto your fingers.

He doesn't want you to meet his family. Doesn't want you anywhere near them - but when the time comes, he needs you to know why he ended up here. Needs you to know that everything he's done, rightfully or wrongfully, has been for them.

Doing right by them means doing wrong by you, but he didn't know you when all this started.

Didn't know that you're the type to point out every trash cat you see, or that you make up little songs to soundtrack almost everything you do (regardless of the fact you're tone-deaf). He didn't know that you drank peach tea like it's water, or that you'd somehow taste a little bit like it too. He didn't know that you'd become his favourite flavour, or that the scent of your perfume would have him hugging his fucking pillows for days after you slept over. 

He didn't know. 

Didn't fuckin' know.

And now he does. And it's tearing him apart.

He's a good liar, though, so you don't notice just how cut up he is when he shrugs and twists the shower tap off. He reaches around for the towel and begins to wrap you up when he says, "Next weekend?"

When he's like this - voice soft, skin bare, tucking the top of the towel over against your chest - it's like you've got the upper hand. There's no battle being fought between the pair of you, and yet you don't feel like equals. Feels like the balls in your court. You just don't realise you're playing different games.

There's pitter-patter beneath your feet and a chime in your stomach. You shuffle between his feet, his arms wrapped around you, lips pressing a kiss against your hair.

"I'll have to check the rota," you say, but you know you'll just ask Yoongi to swap shifts if you are scheduled on. "But I haven't been to Busan in a while. I'd like to come."

His eyes are hot as he presses them shut, chin resting on your head. You think the stutter in his chest is just a hiccup, so you smile. Without the sound of the shower, he can hear his phone buzzing, vibrating on his desk in the next room over.

"Gotta get that," he says, squeezing you before loosening his grip and reaching for a small towel that barely covers his ass. The air is cold against his skin as he opens the bathroom door. Steam gushes out of the room, and so does the hazy, cum-drunk atmosphere the pair of you had created. You miss it the second your skin begins to pebble, goosebumps chilling you, the hair on your arms stood up on end. Almost like someone's walking over your grave.

Maybe just leading you to an early one. Either, or.

You hear him as he mumbles on the phone - "Jin. Yeah? What's up? Cool, can do." - but ignore it. Steam has fogged up the mirror, creating a cloudy canvas for you to do your worst upon. It's childish, yes, but nothing stops you from drawing a little something on there to remind him of you next time he showers.

An uneasy weight sits on your chest when you look at what you've done. It's nothing bad, but part of you thinks you'll regret it - but that part of you is silent when he calls through for you. 

When you emerge a few moments later, you're casual as you ask him who was on the other end of the line. He says 'a friend,' and then clarifies that it's 'one of the boys' because he doesn't want you to think the worst. It's an answer you accept.

Dropping the towel, you're unbothered by his eyes as you spend a few moments naked. You're just reaching for his shirt, but the way you move, how your muscles flex above your bones, but the soft flesh of your curves moves without your control has him feeling all kinds of fucked up. He's never wanted anyone more; never known that it was possible to feel such a way. 

He tells himself it's just hormones. He's fucking empty, entirely spent on you. That's gotta be the reason. Some kind of primal desire type thing. 

Even he's shocked when he begins to talk.

"You can't ever leave."

It's barely a whisper, his voice small, though the weight of his words is so incredibly large. 

"Need you here forever."

It's the way that Jungkook talks in such certain terms that has the chime in your stomach ringing again. 

You're sure he must have broken a thousand hearts with words like that. You wonder if there are still girls across the city pining after him, thinking about the way his breath feels on their skin as he fucks himself into them. Wonder if the fondness in his eyes is because of you, or because he's just riding a post-climax endorphin high.

"You don't mean that," you tell him, because you don't believe he does.

He shakes his head. Senses the challenge in your voice, and smiles. "You think I'm lying?"

"Think you haven't reached post-nut clarity, yet."

"You'll have to fuck me again, then. Third time lucky."

The third time comes in the morning. 

It's still dark outside, Jungkook waking you with dainty kisses along your shoulders, his hands pawing at your tits.

"Morning," he husks into your neck when your hand goes to join his on your chest. "Dreamt about you."

"You are so full of shit," you laugh.

Truth be told, he didn't really sleep. Looked at you for far too long. It's borderline creepy, he thinks, how utterly obsessed he is. Part of him doesn't understand it, but the rest of him does. 

You're forbidden. 

He can't help but want you. 

Jungkook may be Adam, but you're no Eve. You're that damn snake. Or maybe you're the fruit. He doesn't know at this point; just knows that he's eaten it, and he's pretty sure it's poisonous.

"Am not," he grins, riding that poison high. "What did you dream about?"

He's repulsed he's even asking such a thing.

"Can't remember," you pout, turning to face him. Dreams always elude you. It's frustrating, but at least you're not having nightmares. "What about you? What were we doing? Where did we go?"

Just like him, the fact you're asking him questions like that has you wanting to die.

"Busan."

It's not a lie this time. He isn't looking at you, though, so you half think it is. 

He's just focused on the hand of his that's toying with your hair, pushing strands away from your face. The only reason he isn't looking at you is because he's embarrassed. 

"Busan?" You ask, reminded of his proposition from the night before.

"Mhmm," he nods, his hair no doubt tangling against the pillow. "You 'n' me."

Again, you don't know if it's a lie, but oh what a beautiful one it would be.

"We were on the beach," he continues. "Not really doing much. Just sort of existing."  

You laugh, eyes fond but away from his. You're looking at his hair now, too, playing with it. Mirroring his actions. Reciprocating. "Existing?"

"Existing," he says, refusing to clarify. You're distracted when you notice the way his smile brightens. No longer contemplative, he's got a dimple that only comes out when he's beaming all big and bashfully. "I like existing with you."

And so exist you do, in his bed for the next hour and a half. There's no talk of any substance and yet you're chattering for the entire time. He barely even kisses you. Just wants to hear you talk. Wants to hear your perspective on the world, and all the assumptions you make about it.

Jungkook's duvet is shitty quality. The heat it traps is minimal, but you'd take a morning beneath his sheets in the height of winter over being back at your place any day. 

It's thoughts like these that make your feet itchy. Makes you wanna run. Bolt. Head for the hills and never look back - but you're locked in place by his arm over your torso. Faint light pours in through the clouded glass of his window panes, curtains apparently too much of a luxury despite the holes in the wall where a rail once sat, and you study the dark ink marking his skin. 

There's a story to be told from reading his arms, but you haven't figured that out yet. No google search of his name could ever match the lore embedded in his skin. The tips of your glossy red nails trace the lines in awe, wondering how many people have had this luxury before you.

You wonder who sat by his side during the tattoo appointments, and who laughed with fondness as he winced in pain. Whose hand did he hold? Whose suggestions did he listen to for placements? It plagues your mind like a disease, turning the rubies in your veins to emeralds. 

Who are you, you think to yourself. And why am I feeling like this?

It's only a matter of a time - a few languid movements and a couple affirmations later - until he's fucking himself into you again. Predictable, really. Money would be wasted on a fortune teller, and yet you want to go and see one anyway just to confirm whether or not you get to keep him forever. 

Lazy and slow, the sex is just an accompaniment to the way he's kissing you. His cock is thick and deep as it fills you, but his hips are sluggish and tepid.

It's almost laughable that the sex is an afterthought. 

By its basic definition Jungkook is fucking you - but he's fucked you enough times for you to know how likes to conduct his lays. Quick, fast, to the point. Finish line in his sights.

This doesn't feel like that. 

It doesn't feel like that at all.

Even the way his kisses you as his cock stiffens and pulses, unloading itself into you isn't familiar. It's short, his stamina not back up to his usual performance, but it's so deep you think it might be fatal. Any chance you had of getting your heart out of this alive? Yeah. Good luck.

He groans into your mouth, tells you how good you feel, and presses his lips so tightly shut that it's almost as if he's scared he'll never kiss you again.

It's interesting, the way that Jungkook doesn't make you cum. Sure, the sex is good. You've enjoyed it all - but you're currently on 3-0. You chalk it up to a lack of realisation. Innocent inconsideration. 

See, his words may betray him, but he's trying to be better. Trying not to drag you further into the web of lies he's woven around the pair of you. Issue is, you've mistaken it for silk. You're comfortable. Enjoy where you are.

He thinks it doesn't count; thinks that if he's the only one who finishes, then you won't be falling for him in the way that he hears girls do. Jimin had ribbed him for it after he'd fucked Naejeon; told him that the reason she was so into him was to do with the oxytocin cocktail that had flooded her bloodstream. It's not like it was news to Jungkook. He'd always known it was a thing, he'd just never really seen the impact of it quite so severely.

The way he see's it, the less you cum, the less you care. It's flawed logic, and it leaves him feeling guilty, which is why he blurts out dumb shit about wanting you around forever. Might be true, might not be. Maybe he's the one confusing hormones for heartfelt honesty. 

But as you watch him tear himself away from the bed and head towards the shower, you realise that none of it matters. 

You've been hearing bells since the moment you met him.

They're so loud they drown out the bullshit.

"You coming, C?" He calls through, as the shower begins to splutter into action in the next room over. He appears in the doorway, a tattooed hand cupping his balls and covering his modesty. His eyes are soft, grin lopsided as the sun rises. 

It's beyond your choice as you move towards the sound of his voice, like he's some kind of pied piper.

You know he's taken over you. 

Yet still, you follow the sound of the pipe.

And whether you like it or not, you know you'll let him drag you to the river, just for him to watch you drown.

────────────

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

#jungkook fanfiction #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook ff #jk ff #jungkook masterlist #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jeon jungkook smut #bts fanfic #boxer!jungkook #mafia!jungkook #throttle #byholly #jungkook fluff #angst #smut #jungkook x y/n

[filthyjoetini]

Stumblin' In

a/n: Well...it's been...a while. heh. Sorry. I've been going through a lot. On here (the accusations...) as well as in life. Latter keeps me busy to no end. It's exhausting...but I'm back. beta-reader, editor, partner in crime: @barfightzanddiscolightz

warnings: mentions of previous injury, rpf, fem!reader, cuteness overload

wordcount: 2.2k

part 1 - part 2 - part 4

Part 3

You let yourself fall face down on the sofa with a loud sigh. The last few days had been nothing short of exhausting. Your back and neck still hurt, and the concussion had caused some nightmarish migraines that had left you unable to work. So, you spent your days in your dark living room, accompanied by your two cats, Freya and Kiro. Freya, a chubby lady with a moustache who you had had to put on a diet, was sitting on the back of your sofa, silently judging you. Kiro, your long-haired void of a cat, sat next to you, purring in your ear.

When you had come home from the hospital almost a week ago, they had greeted you with loud, screaming meows as if they had been starving. Your dad had been looking after them, cuddling them and feeding them generously. You also knew that he had given each of them a little treat every time before he left. So much for starving. Total drama queens - Both of them. But that's just Freya and Kiro, you wouldn't trade them for any other cats in the world.

Today had been your first day back at work and you wished you hadn’t gone. Your migraines had stopped the day before, but your body was still killing you. Groaning, you pushed yourself up to sit properly on your sofa, your legs sprawled out on its long chaise longue. You took a blanket from the basket beside it and pulled it neatly over your legs. Kiro immediately took this as an invitation to plop down between your legs. You were about to open one of your newly ordered books when your phone buzzed. A new message.

Huffing annoyedly, you picked up your phone from where it lay beside you to check who had the audacity to disturb your precious reading time.

It was Joe. Forgotten were your pain and shitty mood.

He hadn't texted you in days and, not wanting to appear desperate, you hadn't texted him either. That's just the way you were, constantly thinking that you were annoying people with your presence.

Pushing the negative thoughts to the back of your mind and grinning to yourself, you quickly unlocked your phone and read his message.

Bambi on ice! How are you?

You rolled your eyes at his new name for you. You got it, you're a klutz.

Hello to you too, Joe... I'm fine. How are you?

I'm good. Very busy. That's why I haven't texted you the last few days. I'm sorry about that.

Oh... you don't have to apologise. It's fine.

No. I don't want you to get the wrong impression. I'm working abroad at the moment, and I only have internet when I'm back in my temporary home. And then I get flooded with messages and things to check as soon as my phone connects to the internet. I didn't mean to forget about you.

You read the last sentence he wrote not once, but twice... no screw it, five times. You'd be lying if you said it didn't affect you. The slight pink tint to your cheeks betrayed you and you were glad no one was around to point it out. You had to change the subject. This is too much lovey-dovey bullshit. You were not ready for this... yet.

How are you supposed to do your hacking without internet? Must be difficult.

Perfect.

All Joe did was send a series of eyeroll emojis that made you giggle.

It's a top-secret mission, you know. We're doing it the old-fashioned way. Infiltrate and then destroy. 😉

All right there, soldier. Top secret. Got it.

But I'll be back in four days!

Amazing! Quick in and out then?

Yeah...something like that. Hey... I was wondering if you were up for that date you owe me when I get back?

You stared at his question and the blush crept back into your cheeks. Here you were again. Back to the subject you had hoped to avoid, at least for a little while longer.

While you had agreed to go on a date with him, your motivation was more to please him and get off the hook so you could get inside your house. You were knackered and just wanted to rest. Days had passed, and you had been beating yourself up about agreeing. You weren't dating at the moment. You found contentment in the way your life was going. Nevertheless, you had promised him, and breaking a promise was not your style.

Swallowing hard, you let your fingers tap out your response.

Sure! Just let me know when and where and I'll be there 😊

Great! Can't wait!

Me either!

Listen, I gotta go now. Duty calls! Text soon?

Of course! Good luck with your mission.

Thanks! Bye, darling xx

Bye Joe xx

---

Fuck. You had an official date. With Joe. You needed to tell a certain someone.

"Brother in Christ. How are you?"

Of course, your best friend would pick up like that. You pushed yourself up a little, which made your legs move, much to Kiro's displeasure. The cat glared at you, and you quickly apologised with a kiss to his head.

"I'm fine...guess what!", you tried her, gnawing on your bottom lip.

"You finally managed to put your summer clothes in the basement?" she guessed.

"Well, yeah...but that's not what I wanted you to guess.", you snorted and then blurted it out: "I-have-a-date."

"What?"

"I HAVE A DATE!”, you repeated, almost shouting. Since your neighbours were all half deaf anyway, you didn't care that you had just raised your voice.

“Ouch, don’t yell at m- WAIT! You?! Have a date?!”, she sputtered.

"Yes!”, you replied in a breezy voice.

"With who?"

"Joe.", you replied so quietly that she almost didn't hear it, but her gasp gave her away.

"Joe. As in 'your knight in a beige cable-knit jumper'-Joe?"

"Yes!”, you squeaked out, earning a glare from both your cats.

"Holy shit, babes! This is like one of those romance films we sometimes watch on film night.”, she gushed, clearly very excited for you.

"Ugh, yeah. I know.”, you groaned. "I need your help. I don't have anything to wear!"

"Lies! Your wardrobe is bursting at the seams."

Which was true, but she didn't have to expose you like that.

"I know. Can you help me put together an outfit? I will repay you fabulously!"

"Ahhh... just deduct it from the mountain of drinks-debt I owe you. I'll be there in 20 minutes!"

"Wait! The date's not even se-", you started, but she had already hung up. Typical her.

18 minutes later your doorbell rang and there she stood in all her 'hair in a messy bun, oversized jumper, leggings with a questionable stain and the oldest trainers she could find' glory. Her face was sporting a huge grin.

"You look absolutely insane." you pointed out as soon as you opened the door, chuckling. She snorted and pushed past you, heading for your room. You quickly followed, knowing full well that without you, she'd start pulling out pieces of clothing from your closet and throwing them on your bed.

---

She had been rummaging through your wardrobe for almost two hours now and had mentioned that you had 'too many things' at least 20 times, accompanied by an eyeroll, whilst you made yourself comfortable on your bed. Your cats had decided to join you for a while, but the mess she was making was too much for them and they went back to the living room.

She was standing on one of the shelves in the closet, trying to get to the top shelf. It was the most hilarious thing you had ever seen, you had to snap a picture. Without thinking, you sent it to Joe.

Who’s that?

My best friend. She’s a madwoman.

I can see that, and I see how she’s your bestie. You both like to put yourselves in dangerous situations. I bet she’s pulled a Humpty Dumpty before as well.

You snorted at his text, earning a raised eyebrow from your friend who was still standing in your wardrobe. When she saw you were on your phone, she gasped and jumped out of the wardrobe. She quickly made her way over to you.

"Who are you texting?", she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

"Nobody."

"Bullshit.”, she claimed, holding out her hand to you. "Give me the phone."

"No.”, you giggled, trying to crawl away from her, but to no avail. She was very quick and snatched the phone out of your fingers. Her eyes went wide.

"BITCH! Stop sending pictures of me to your boyfriend!"

"He's not my boyfriend!", you argued, snorting and laughing at the face she was making.

"He better be after your date...", she muttered, tossing your phone back at you, which you almost caught with your face. "I've got your outfit."

With a huge grin, she walked back over to your wardrobe and picked up a few stray clothes. Then she laid them out orderly on your bed. It was perfect. Totally you. Totally the opposite of Joe. You'd stick out like a sore thumb.

“Thanks babe.”, you smiled, pushing yourself off the bed and engulfing her in a tight hug.

"Anytime, love.”, she grinned into your hair and returned your hug with an even tighter one.

"Coffee and biscuits?", you asked her as you pulled away and her face lit up all over again. She didn't even answer your question but ran off to the kitchen.

"You better have chocolate chip cookies!", you heard her yell, knowing she'd already opened your cupboard where you stored your sweets. When you heard her excited squeak, you knew she had found them. Shaking your head at her antics, you made your way to the kitchen to join her. You wouldn't trade her for anything in the world, either.

---

When your best friend left, it was already dark outside. You opted for a light dinner which consisted of a piece of sourdough bread, half a tomato, a handful of shredded cheddar cheese and three green olives. Everything was neatly arranged on the plate. Girl Dinner was served.

Walking over to the sofa to read for the second time that evening, you placed your plate on the small table in front of it, sat down and draped a blanket over yourself. Picking up the plate, you leaned back against the headrest and popped an olive into your mouth. Freya and Kiro soon joined you and tried to beg you for some of the sourdough. Kiro was particularly persistent, but so were you. When they finally realised you weren't going to give in, Kiro trotted off to sulk under one of your chairs and Freya retreated to her place on the headrest.

You were just about to open your book when your phone again alerted you to a new message. Thinking it was your best friend letting you know she had gotten home, you leaned forward to grab your phone. But it wasn't your best friend. Joe had texted you again.

Did you have dinner?

Uh... yeah. Why?

Oh, just checking. What are you doing?

I wanted to read, but a certain someone keeps interrupting.

Oh! My apologies. What are you reading?

This. *attachment*

Ooh. This looks interesting. What's it about?

Instead of telling him, you took a picture of the summary on the back.

It sounds very interesting. I'll stop bothering you now. Go read!

You're not bothering me, Joe.

Your last message stayed unread, and you frowned at your phone. After a couple of moments, you put your phone aside and finally started reading where you had left off.

---

You were about to take a sip of the tea you had made yourself an hour into reading when your phone beeped again. You wondered who it was. It certainly wasn't your best friend. She had let you know that she had arrived home shortly after Joe had dropped the conversation. You had a hunch, though.

Turning your phone around, you saw that Joe had sent you a picture. With a gentle tap to the screen, you enlarged the photo. It was a book, but not just any book. It was the same book you were reading. Smiling to yourself, you tapped on the picture again and added a heart reaction to it.

Then another message from Joe.

Now we can have our own little book club.

Those nine words instantly made your heart flutter.

Just the two of us?

Yep.

Count me in...

Brilliant! I was hoping you'd say yes. It'd be a shitty book club if I was on my own.

Yep. The discussions would be very one-sided.

And boring. OK, I'll let you read. I'm sure you're way ahead of me. I just got it and I gotta catch up so we can discuss it on our date.

I'd love that. Talk later?

Of course we will. Happy reading! Bye, darling xx

You too! Bye Joe xx

Grinning from ear to ear, you put your phone down and picked up your book up again. You’d never been happier that you had so mindlessly agreed to a date before.

---

Taglist:

@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @littledemon-lilith @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @miserybeans @kylakins88 @thehillzhaveeyez @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @1paire2vans @theonewiththecrackedmind @fromasgardandback @captainonaboat @josephquinnsfreckles @emilyslutface @alessxa

there's still some spots left on the taglist :)

#joe quinn #joseph quinn #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x fem!reader smut #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x fem!reader smut #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn x you #rpf fic #rpf #rpf fanfiction #my loves

[babiebom]

Accidental Prey(i)

A/N: New obsession coming through woo woooooooo. Hopefully I have it in me to finish this.

Tw: talks of sex, taking of virginity, no smut but does talk about sex in small details, talks of murder and cannibalism, drunk one night stand, cursing. Mentions of blood and gore, some sexism/misogynist views, pregnancy, racism, slut shaming

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter/Sawyer x OC

Genre: strangers to lovers, Stockholm Syndrome, angst, romance(?), drama

Wc: 5.2k

Masterlist next

At the feeling of something popping, Johnny already knew that he was in deep shit. The girl below him was drunker than he was by a long way. And though he also had way too much to drink he could already tell by his reaction that he was going to remember this entire situation in the morning.

It wasn't unusual for him to sleep around, it wasn't unusual for him to sleep with potential victims. But something about this girl made him feel different. Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the way she smiled and smelled and let him bite her. He wasn't sure. He just knew something about her was off, because it damn sure cannot be him.

Looking down he stares at where their bodies meet, blood was beginning to pool under her ass and onto the sheets below them. God, he was going to have to pay for this, huh? Looking back up at her face, the tears had stopped and so had her whining, now she was just clinging onto him, her lips brushing over his arms that were caging her in. Did she even realize what was happening? Did she realize that she had let a random man she had just met take her virginity? She slurred something against his arm, her eyes unfocused. Maybe he should quit before it goes too far…

"Have you done this before?" Maybe she just hadn't slept around in a while…maybe she just hasn't done it a lot and her body wasn't used to it.

She furrowed her eyebrows before shaking her head, murmuring out an answer. Johnny blinks twice, feeling as if he was now somehow responsible for her wellbeing, as if because he is the first man to defile her he has to take care of her and that's too much for him to process. He tries to reason with himself quickly, almost gaslighting himself into believing that it doesn't count because they haven't really done anything. He hasn't moved, hasn't done anything except push inside her one time. That isn't sex at all. None of this counts.

Before he can pull himself out of her, she whines and wraps her legs around him, frowning as she slowly turns her head to try and make eye contact with him. "What're you doin?"

"Baby, I don't think this is a good idea…" Johnny was never one to put someone else's needs before his own, but this seemed like the perfect opportunity to do so. By stopping here nothing is different, she can still be considered a virgin, and he doesn't have to worry about some random chick he found in a bar.

"Why not? I thought we was makin' love?" She pouts as she slurs her words out. Locking her legs around him tighter, forcing him in deeper. It only served to make her whine out in pain and he has to focus on not being selfish and moving inside of her.

He wants to laugh at the thought of 'making love'; it isn't a thing he does. He doesn't know how to love, his family doesn't know how to properly love. This whole situation is fucked and he wants to rip her to shreds for somehow triggering a response in him that he didn't know was possible. He didn't love her, not at all, but he also didn't want to kill her. He could already see Drayton losing his shit if he ever found out about him going out and having one night stands that he doesn't bring home to eat. The old man claims to not enjoy killing but sure does get mad when loose ends are tied up.

"You sure?" He asks, grabbing her by the chin and roughly making it so that she had to look him in the eyes. She hums in response, giving him a small smile before closing her eyes. She was mumbling again, and he only could catch that she thought he was nice before she started talking about something else. He breathes in deeply before deciding that he could just finish and wait until she's asleep before leaving and never seeing her again. He hopes that she forgets anything that happened, not wanting her to remember him.

If she remembers then she might come looking for him, and if she comes looking for him then the family will know what he's done, what he's been doing. And they'll kill her, or make him kill her. He doesn't know which is worse, but he knows that he doesn't want to kill her, that he doesn't think she should die. He tries to figure out what it is about her again, coming to the conclusion that she just doesn't set off any of his killer instincts, that she doesn't set off that thing in him that needs to kill.

It's as if he's a wolf thinking he's hunting a bunny but instead what he finds is a tiny little mouse that wouldn't be fulfilling to eat. A little mouse that doesn't make the chase fun, that doesn't make him want to attack her at all. He just feels bad for her and how small and helpless she is. Killing her would be no fun, he decides quickly finishing partially inside her before pulling out, too lost in his thoughts to properly be worried. Her face is screwed up and he wonders if she finished, asking her as much.

By the look on her face he can tell that she hadn't, too wrapped up in his thoughts to even recall how having sex with her felt. So, deciding to be nice he helps her out. Touching her in that special place until her broken wails come out silently and her back arches off the cheap motel bed. He silently hopes this makes up for him being a shitty person to have your first time with. "Did that feel good?" He asks and she nods her head, a sleepy grin on her face as she stretches and begins to fall asleep.

He sighs, wiping her off with his shirt. After making sure she was lying on her side he slips out of the motel room, throwing his shirt away before getting into his truck, driving home and away from the girl before any real consequences could be had.

When Fawn woke up in a pool of dried blood she was confused, obviously. The last thing she remembered was being at a bar, tossing back a shot that the bartender had even questioned if she could handle it. Seeing where she had woken up, it was apparent that she could not. Sucking in a breath she moves her hair from in front of her face, the curly mess tangled around her fingers. For a split second she wondered if she looked as bad as she thought she did. That thought was quickly overtaken by the feeling of stabbing pain shooting up her legs and crotch. As if she had been electrocuted for moving.

She wailed out in pain, writhing on the bed, eyes squeezed shut as she tried to remember what happened to her. She didn't even realize she had left the bar. From the pain and the blood, she already had some semblance of what had occured, and though there was already regret pooling at the bottom of her belly she also felt upset that the guy didn't even stick around, he just left after…doing what he did.

Crying she waited until the pain got bearable enough that she could move. How was she going to get back home? Her car was still at the bar. Did she even have her keys? Looking around she spotted her purse sitting on a table next to the door. At least he was nice enough to leave her things.

Moving around slowly, she wondered if she would be able to get a cab or something, at least to take her back to the bar. She cringed as she looked back towards the bed, blood was everywhere and she knew that leaving it there was rude, but talking to the motel workers would probably get her in trouble. Silently she began to bundle the blanket and sheets up, hoping that the mattress below was untouched, just so the repercussions wouldn't be as bad. She cursed the man aloud for leaving her to deal with this alone.

The sun was extremely bright when Fawn finally walks out of the room, and it makes her nauseous to the point where she has to run over to the grass, ignoring the burning pain in her legs in order to throw up somewhere it doesn't need to be cleaned or seen. Turning around, she frowns at how the motel looks, dingy and dusty, people sitting around looking out of it. At least she has nothing to be embarrassed about seeing as no one cares what she's doing.

The nearest payphone was thankfully just down the street, she could see it in the distance if she squinted. The blazing Texas sun burned the skin on her shoulders, her complexion not helping her despite the common belief that it would, she still burned easily and that fact made her situation even worse. Her legs were sore, and now burned awfully from the walk taking much longer than it needed to be, and by the time she got to the payphone she was out of breath and sweaty. Fawn was beginning to regret going out.

Panting, she tries to lean against the payphone, but she only proceeds to get burned as the metal had been cooking all day. Frowning, she wonders how she's going to call anyone for help when holding onto the stupid phone for more than a second would burn her hand so badly she would have to go to the hospital. It took a minute before she decided to lift her shirt, looking around to make sure no one would see her, and use it to hold the phone. Paying the 50 cents she calls a taxi to come pick her up.

The second Fawn was in front of her own house, she felt the urge to leave again. Her parents were sure to be awake and moving around seeing as it's the middle of the day, and her little act of defiance was sure to be punished, even if she is a grown adult. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, thinking of a plan to minimize the damage. She was unsure of how she was going to lie to and convince her parents that she hadn't gotten up to trouble at all, and while she had no real idea of what happened she could figure out enough of everything to know that they were going to be livid. Before she could come up with anything solid, the front door opened, the screen door slamming against it from how hard the person had forced it open.

Fawn's mother is a large lady. Tall, strong, and mean faced with a head of dark curly hair. Seeing the woman storming towards you is enough for anyone, man or woman, to go running in fear at what was to come as a consequence of her anger. Terrified, Fawn scrambles out of the car, hoping that this small act of compliance would placate her mother enough that she wouldn't get into too much trouble. "Momma-"

"Where were you?"

Flinching, Fawn attempted to make herself seem smaller. She wanted to answer, but answering would only make things worse for her so she keeps her mouth shut as her mother grabs her by the arm and drags her inside. Her father sat in his recliner, staring at her with wide eyes. And though she was terrified at the thought of a punishment, she could see from how her father's shoulders drooped that they had been afraid. With guilt flooding in her stomach she allowed her mother to pull her into a hug, the large woman shuddering and gripping onto Fawn's shoulders so tight she was sure they would be bruised in the morning.

As soon as her mother let go, she turned and walked towards her father, he stood slowly as she approached. Like her mother, her father was large, muscular and mean looking, the only difference between them was the colors of their skin. If her mother terrified people, her father made them believe that what had happened in the bible surely had happened again to produce such a large man. To have such a tiny child was almost comical, it was how they named her because something like 'mouse' would get her made fun of.

Fawn could feel her lower lip tremble as she fell into her fathers arms, letting him hug her just as tight as her mother did. Being the only child of two people who were as full of worry as her parents made everything much more…scary. More final, as if every choice that you make is taking you towards an untimely demise and even a day apart is too long when you could keel over dead at any moment.

Her dad held onto her for a longer time, she could hear his soft sniffles and assumed that he was crying and was holding onto her until he had stopped. Letting him have her moment, Fawn keeps her mouth shut about how her night went, forcing herself to come up with a story just in case they pressed her on it. She hoped to God that none of this would come to bite her in the butt.

The cool metal of the exam table makes the back of her thighs numb, her decision to wear shorts proving to be the dumbest thing she has ever done…or second dumbest thing. Her mother sat in the small chair, next to the exam table, clutching her purse and bouncing her leg. Did she think something bad was going to happen? Did she think Fawn was on the brink of death? Asking would just make her irritable, she was already mad they had to come to the doctors to begin with. Her mother hated the place with a passion, but never told Fawn why, maybe she was just anxious…either way she wasn't in the mood for questions.

The symptoms she had weren't strange in any way…Fawn thought she probably just had a stomach flu or something. Constant nausea, headaches, and a stuffy nose. Her mother thought differently though, ever since the day Fawn had stayed out all night her mother acted differently. As if she were suspicious of something. Thankfully Fawn hadn't missed a period, though it was lighter than usual and only lasted a couple days. She had thought this meant she was home free, that she had gotten away with whatever she did that led up to and included her virginity being taken by a stranger. But still, her mother insisted the doctor's office was the way to go.

The man entered the room, clipboard in hand and glaring at Fawn as if she had committed the ultimate sin. Taken aback she avoided eye contact with him, instead staring down at the floor as if it were the most interesting thing in the room. Why was he so mad? "Are you sexually active?" He asks in a monotone voice.

Fawn freezes, her kicking feet now hanging in the air, still as if something was holding them in place. She shakes her head. "No." She whispers out.

He sucks in a breath, moving around the room towards his stool. "Well, we tested for illnesses, and pregnancy."

"And?" Her mother asked. 'Please be the stomach flu. It has to be the stomach flu' she prays.

"She's pregnant."

Fawn's mother almost collapses out of the small chair she was sitting on, her body sliding down it as she wails into her hands. Fawn looks up at the doctor, her eyes wide in horror and confusion. She wanted to ask how'd this happen, she was so confused. One night couldn't have done this. She felt as if she were being punished by God for acting out. She sniffles and frowns, but gets no sympathy from the man in front of her. He only looks at her as if he’s disgusted. When he speaks again, she can’t hear him, too busy trying to calm her racing mind. By the time she stops disassociating, the doctor's appointment is over and she’s in the car with her yelling mother. “-you’re never leaving the house again! How did this even happen? Did you go out purely to be a little harlot?"

"Momma I-"

The woman was seething, her lips set in a line as she focused on the road. Fawn knew her mother was waiting on her to say something, but at the same time she knew saying anything, especially excuses, would just set her off more. She couldn't help but begin to cry, her life as she knew it was over. She messed up, she knew that, but being pregnant and unmarried was punishment enough, but seeing how angry her mother looked she knew that she was going to be punished more.

Her parents were never really abusive, never whooping or beating her, sometimes they yelled but it was usually her mother and it wasn't often. Then again she never really got into trouble, and if she did it was never anything like this. Her parents raised her in a straight line, hoping that with each passing generation their family could become something important in the world. Something more than their race and appearance and it started with her grandparents. She couldn't imagine what her grandmother would think now, and she was grateful that she lived far away enough that she wouldn't hear if the gossip ever left that hospital or their home.

Fawn shrinks into herself, her cries growing louder as her mother parks the car in the driveway to the house, a sigh leaving her lips, her chest falling quickly. She didn't want to go inside and face her father, she didn't want to see his disappointed face or hear his words as he scolded her. "God damn it. Fawn Grace! What the hell did you go out and do?"

Fawn looked up at her mother with a pitiful look, her hands were balling up her skirt. "I don't remember momma! I swear! I woke up in-in a motel room-!"

"A motel room?" Fawn's mothers voice rose an octave, higher than she had ever heard it before. Her mother slammed her hands onto the steering wheel, looking down and saying something under her breath while Fawn looked at her in fear. Shaking her head the woman kept her eyes closed while she spoke before getting out of the car, not even waiting for Fawn as she started towards the front door. Following behind Fawn says a quick prayer to herself, hoping God would forgive her sins and give her a break when it comes to her father's reaction.

Slowly removing herself from the car, she drags her feet as she approaches the door, already hearing her mother venting to her father. Heart pounding she enters the home, shutting the door softly as to not really call attention to herself as her parents speak to each other. Wincing, she tries to sneak past them, wanting to flee to her room and avoid whatever punishment they were going to give her. But no, God was not being so kind today, and her mother shouted her name forcing her to stop in her steps. “Yes ma’am?”

“Don’t you dare go upstairs, get over here now!”

Frowning, she hurries over to the couch, across from her parents who were standing, angry, in the middle of the living room. Her ears rang loudly as she tried to figure out if they were going to yell or not, both of them were silent. Swallowing down vomit, she picked at the hem of her shirt, avoiding looking at her parents in fear of seeing their disappointed faces. Her mother is the one to speak first, beginning with a sigh. “Fawn…we want an explanation. Now."

"Well...I told you in the car momma. I don't remember anything. I just woke up in a motel room by myself."

"How did you get there?" Her mothers voice shakes in an emotion Fawn couldn't place.

"I don't know!" She shakes her head frantically, eyes wide, "I swear it. I was at a bar, and somehow ended up there!"

"A BAR?" Her father spoke now, well more like shouted, obviously surprised.

She scrunched her nose as her father collapsed in his lounge chair. Her mother began pacing as Fawn tried to come up with whatever words she had to say next. She couldn't recount much, and she couldn't tell if that was going to anger then less or more. "Well, okay. I went there to be a brat! I admit that! But I promise I didn't go out to sleep with anyone! I don't even remember doing that! Last thing I remember is the bartender telling me that I shouldn't have one more drink, and because I was already mad I decided to drink one more, then I woke up in a bloody motel bed with a headache and sore legs and I regretted it as soon as I woke up!"

She had never been good at keeping secrets.

Her mother was hyperventilating and her father looked as if he was on the verge of passing out. She herself was about 2 seconds away from throwing up after word vomiting and exposing everything that she had gone through and thought of. Tears flowed down her face, warming her cold skin. Nothing was said for a while, the air tense and thick. Maybe nothing else would be said. Her words had done a good job of sucking all the air out of the room, her parents were obviously unhappy, angry at her actions. She could barely remember what all was said that made her storm out and go places that she had never been before. She ruined the legacy her grandmother wanted to create in one night, she was the first unremovable stain in their family history in recent years even though they wanted things to be different. She set them back single handedly, and had the audacity to sit and cry as if she had done nothing wrong.

"Momma?"

Her mother was crying, sitting as far away from her on the couch, hands over her face and praying aloud to God as if he could change everything that happened. Her father started bargaining, his words carrying over to her ears. It was like he wanted to accept that this was their family's fate, and that there was nothing he could do.

"It's not the old times anymore, these kids sleep around all the time. They're not like us, not like the 40's where everyone valued marriage and saving oneself. She can still be something, make something of herself even if it isn't a good wife…"

Her heart clenched as she turned to stare at her mother who was now rocking back at forth, but her words weren't as nice, if her father's words could even be counted as such.

"Can't believe…the child I raised! A loose legged hussy. Father God tell me it isn't true, tell me that my baby girl didn't give herself to some…BUM. That man could only be the devil if he took advantage of my sweet girl. She can't be a slut, a common whore! Not my baby…"

She wondered when they were going to stop crying, but at the same time she wondered when she herself would stop. She knew in her mind that this was a permanent thing, even without the baby, her parents were never going to loom at her the same. And she wasn't sure if her current relationships with them would survive this bump in the road.

With red eyes and a damp face, Fawn's mother turns to stare at her not quite with a glare, but with a look that showed that she was still angry, still grieving. "You ain't leaving this house," she takes in a shuddering breath, "ever again. You are going to stay here and hope and pray that whenever we let you out for errands that some man takes pity on you and thinks you're pretty enough that he doesn't care about the fact that you already gave yourself away or the fact that you have a child, and marries you."

Sucking in a breath, Fawn nods in understanding, this punishment being the only one she's going to get wasn't so bad. "I'm sorry momma…"

Her father does nothing but slide down in his chair, hands over his face. He had given up on praying aloud, given up on trying to bargain and hoping the circumstances were different. Shaking her head her mother scoots closer and wraps her in a hug, pulling her close against her chest her sobs starting back up. Not knowing what the future will bring, Fawn hugs her back.

Pregnancy was nothing like she expected it to be, and while she was excited to not get her period for a while, the cramping and bloating and cravings were unexpected. She hadn't known anyone else who was pregnant and didn't know what to expect especially because her parents refused to speak about it. It was as if it was a later problem, and she was being punished by not being prepared for it.

Now, standing in the middle of the grocery store, Fawn rubbed her still flat stomach staring at the boxed brownies as if she could teleport them into her stomach without having to make or buy it. She had a budget, a list of things her parents sent her to buy, and now having less allowance money she didn't know if she should buy what she was craving or save the money for what she needed and wanted later on. Her parents didn't say anything about her getting a job, but she thought that maybe she should…just in case.

Brownies and ice cream, not an unusual craving, but one that was so overwhelming she throws two boxes into her cart before looking towards the pies. Thinking about a pie made only of the crust, she licks her lips and moves towards it only to be stopped by a white, pale hand, also grabbing the box she was going for. "'Scuse me," she retracts her hand quickly just as the woman does.

The woman smiles brightly, grabbing at the box again with one hand while swatting at Fawn gently. "Don't worry about it, sugar! Looks like both of us are cravin' somethin' sweet tonight!" The gap between her teeth gives her more of a youthful look, confusing Fawn as to how old the woman really was. She looked young, but calling someone sugar was something her parents would do. Maybe she was in between?

"Yeah…though I think what I have is enough. Don't want to overdo it." Fawn laughs awkwardly, not quite used to being pregnant and socializing. Though there was not conceivable difference, she still felt as if she had to behave in a certain way, she was pregnant pretending not to be pregnant in front of a stranger that probably doesn't and wouldn't care. A stranger she would most likely never see again.

"So you do! Those brownies are gonna be so delicious, I'm sure!"

Talking about the brownies made the craving swell, and the words fell out of Fawn's mouth without her thinking, the excitement of eating it taking over. "Hope so! I was plannin' on puttin' some ice cream on em' letting it cool the brownies down while the brownies melt the ice cream!" Fawn lets her accent slip a bit, the perfectly crafted non-Texas more Californian sound her parents wanted her to use. She sounded more like herself now, more countrified like the woman in front of her.

"That sounds good!"

Nodding, Fawn lets the conversation die so she can hurry and finish shopping, wanting to quickly get home before her parents get worried and ban her from even shopping, and to make and eat the brownie before the craving is too dull to satisfy. The woman doesn't let her walk away though, grabbing her by the hand and spinning her to face her again, looking down at her body.

"My! Your dress is awfully pretty, where'd you get it?"

Surprised, Fawn looks down at her own dress. It wasn't that pretty, it was more on the plain side, but maybe the woman genuinely liked it. "Made it myself…" she replied. She wanted to go on, gush about how difficult it was to make even though it's nothing special and as plain as can be, but the ice cream aisle was calling her name.

"Did you? Oh, I love to sew! I made this dress I'm wearin'. Grandpa said I looked pretty! My brothers are pretty mean, though, but I guess that's just how brothers are…"

The woman continued to speak, not letting her get a word out to excuse herself from the conversation. Talking about her brothers and some boyfriend or something and how much she missed him. The woman talked so long that Fawn now had to pee, and still she wasn't stopping.

"Sissy? Where in the hell did you-"

Fawn turns her head towards the voice, taken aback at the sight in front of her. The man is attractive, more attractive than any man she had seen anytime recently. These types of looks were rare in the middle of nowhere Texas, and while people were attractive, he was just…different. Maybe it was the way he held himself. Maybe she had finally found a guy that was her type.

The man, on the other hand, looked like he had seen a ghost. His eyes were locked onto Fawn, and she could feel her body heating up from how strongly he was staring at her. Shiftly awkwardly, she looked back towards the woman who had stopped talking, she was now smiling brightly at the man who was still frozen at the end of the aisle. "Johnny!" The woman turns towards Fawn, grasping her arm. "This is one of my brothers!"

"Yeah…I guessed so."

The man approached slowly, eyes still on Fawn, she could feel it. "Sissy, I've been waiting outside for 30 minutes. You're supposed to buy the groceries to come out. They're gonna be pissed off that we took too long." When she looked back at him he was glaring at the blonde next to her.

The way he glared made her heart drop, and she was glad that she wasn't the target of his…annoyance. Blinking, she laughed awkwardly, backing away from the two, immediately taking the chance to run off and finish her shopping. She couldn't wait another 30 minutes before finishing and peeing, so she rushes to get everything done, not forgetting the ice cream.

The second she got home, and got comfortable, her mind wandered to the strange siblings she met. They both seemed strange, in different ways but still strange. Still, she hoped to see at least the man again. Maybe he could be the man that takes pity on her, and doesn't care about the fact that she has a kid on the way.

Or maybe she's delusional, and lusting after the first man she sees.

#tcm #tcm game #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw massacre game #texas chainsaw game #tcm fanfic #tcm johnny #tcm sissy #johnny tcm #johnny sawyer #johnny slaughter #Tcm Johnny x oc #tcm nubbins #Texas chainsaw massacre fic

[mirageofadesert]

Ranking Luo Yunxi's characters & scenes in TTEOTM based on my level of obsession

Since I'm currently in my TTEOTM fan girl era, I thought I would rank the performances of my new favorite actors based on how much I obsess over them. Sorry for my English btw... Spoilers ahead! Let the countdown begin!

(This is going to be quite long, but I have the uncontrollable urge to talk about this drama, but no one to listen to me! So I'm just screaming into the Tumblr void!)

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#10 Tantan Jin claiming the throne

I love this scene for multiple reasons: Tantai Jin is riding into the Jing kingdom capital to claim the throne. However, is not wearing royal black, but rather soft greys in the style of the Yiyue tribe. It's also the first time we see him with braided hair. He has just (almost) killed his brother and instigated the vermin to flee the city. This makes it an even more powerful entrance and statement as to who he will be as a king. This is Tantai Jin coming into his own.

It's also a pretty outfit with many delicate details. From this point on, it will take multiple life times until we will see him in this colors again.

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#9 Tantai Jin conducting a symphony of crows

After having suffered for most of his life, Tantai Jin takes revenge on his tormentors in a quite intriguing way, that's is cleverly build up in the show. He has been established as being able to gently talk to animals, spending most of time reading and writing, while lacking adequate clothing. Now, all these elements are put together in a new order: The brush and crows are becoming a deadly weapon, while he is dressed in royal black of the Jing kingdom. It's a glimpse into a possible future, that will turn out so very differently in the show.

It feels satisfied to see him take his revenge, even through he acts so delightfully psychotic. Luo Yunxi gives an extraordinary performance in this episode!

I also adore the evolution of his fighting style. There is also a clear evolution of him using projectiles to fight - from the crows, to the red blades, the sect technique Cang Jiumin uses to the god-killing crossbow.

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#8 Cang Jiumin being interrogated by the sect, while fighting his own destiny

Nobodies portraits suffering just like Luo Yunxi. The complex emotions of pain, mental restrain and wavering hope are tangible in this performance. The scene is really well written and given enough space to fully take effect. There is also something very satisfying in seeing the sect members react to the truth finally being exposed, while integrating elements of voyeurism. It's such a hard trope to deliver well, and the show did a great job.

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#7 Confused Ming Ye

From catching apples, teaching his wife to use a cross bow, consuming their marriage to being cared for while blinded - there was a lot of moment in which mighty god of war Ming Ye shows his soft and confused side. These were such sweet moments, which made Ming Ye a nuanced character, while portraying a god falling in love so incredible well. As the god of war he is both relentless and strong, but still human in his inexperience and softening emotional detachment.

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#6 Tantai Jin killing the king of Sheng

This is one of my favorite outfits Tantai Jin has worn as the king. The color composition is beautiful and the gold details really elevate the outfit. The beauty is stark contrast to the pain and desperation turning to rage Tantai Jin is experiencing. The scene mirrors the crows attack in some way, but now Tantai Jin doesn't need to hide between a swarm of birds anymore, instead he takes the enemy heads on and without any (initial) backup. This speaks to his immense power, which we haven't seen on screen for a moment. And while his revenge is again satisfied to watch, him showing compassion for his former nanny only to succumb to the unimaginable despair of losing his mother again is heart wrenching. This scene becomes even more impactful, because Tantai Jin isn't uniting both kingdoms by fighting a war with superior strategies and armies (as the audience has been expecting), but rather due to personal pain and his sheer power.

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#5 Cang Jiumin exploring Shangqing Realm

I love Cang Jiumin so much, I wish he would have gotten more screen time. This episode is one of my favorite appearance of him, because it's fun and lighthearted. He is playfully and cheeky, while also being righteous and brave in a calm and mature way. He is what I imagine Tantai Jin might have become had the grown up differently. His outfit is also incorporating more and more elements from Tantai Jin, such as the feathers and extravagant detailing.

Him sneaking away from his sect brothers to go exploring by himself is such a great moment. Only for it to be followed up by him protecting the Lady of Spirituality against some bullies in a really impressive fight scene and finally him reuniting with Li Susu. This is one of my favorite episodes to re-watch!

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#4 Tantai Jin fighting against Xiao Lin

From the moment he levitates down the fortress, this is one of my favorite fighting scenes. While both seem rather equally matched, Tantai Jin's facial expression give away, that he is holding back. The glowing red swords are such a nice hint in the evolution of his weapons, getting close to the Devil God's style. He also starts throwing his weapons here, which foreshadows his future fighting style. The scene isn't just impressive, it's showcases the character development and complex relationship between both princes. Tantai Jin is no longer imitating Xiao Lin, but is finding is own self-expression - leaving the shadow of the other prince, while not falling into resentment (he still views him as a friend). I love it when fight scenes actually contribute to the characterization and story development.

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#3 Poor but unsettling hostage prince in his Disney princess era

Tantai Jin as the bullied hostage prince is such a interesting character. There is something delicate and sweet, but unsettling about him. When he talks to his little animal friends, he is downright caring and almost loving, only to turn into a pained and resigned shell before showing a spiteful and callous individual. There is so much nuances in this portrayal! This version of Tantai Jin is also really pretty with his simple hair and gray clothing. It's so painful to experience conflicting emotions as an audience: On one hand you want to feel sorry for his unfortunate man, but on the other hand you understand the resentment, distrust and trauma Li Susu is experiencing.

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#2 Ancient Devil God

Ugh, just look at him! While all the version of the Devil God were breath-taking, this one is on a while different level. The wavy hair, the pretty makeup, the attitude? This ancient evil should not be that hot. He also brings a lot of nuances to the depiction of unimaginable evil, which makes me wonder how complex is this character is, especially in comparison to other gods like Ming Ye. I feel like there could be a lot of interesting backstory, that stays unexplored - but I think that this for the best based on the role he plays in the show.

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#1 One-eyed Tantai Jin hitting rock bottom

That fucking stick.... This version of Tantai Jin is making me feel things I rather not express out loud. The messy hair, the blinded eye and his attitude are just beyond perfect. You can feel the storm of emotions seething under the surface of his detached act. There is still a hint of challenge and defiance left, even after he has again been betrayed and imprisoned.

I said it before, but Luo Yunxi really excels in portraying suffering. He is able to express so many small emotions just with his voice and facial expressions, that you get drawn into his performances. As much as I want his characters to be happy - and Tantai Jin deserves all the happiness - this is when both Tantai Jin and Luo Yunxi are at their best!!

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Extra: Honorable mentions!

Tantai Jin entering the nether river

Just look at the wavy hair, the beautiful cloth and his waist!

Mingye iconic outfit

The colors, the cut, the ribbons? Just chef's kiss!

Tantai Jin in his gifted green robe

I'm emotionally not ready to talk about this one yet!

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The end! :)

#tteotm #luo yunxi #tantai jin #cdrama

[the-milk-monarch]

Hello! I just want ya to know that u are my favorite writer for tdi in all honesty. I love how thought out your work is and how detailed it is. I saw that you wrote for Cody If so, could you possibly write a thing about how they would act if the reader was Chris’s favorite intern, and would sneak free gifts to help them in challenges (not that big just little small things) like a sweater for when they are somewhere cold, or a cookie if chefs cooking was bad. Could they also be confident and funny? (Strong reader supremacy).

I know you have a lot on your plate, it’s ok to deny or take as long as you need. Feel free to use this idea for other charecters :)

I love this gif

☣ Aw that's so sweet to hear, tysm!! I never thought anyone would enjoy my writing so much so that's really lovely to hear 🫶 I try my best to write well thought out stuff bc I honestly enjoy thinking about it lol

[𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙸𝚂'𝚂 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚁𝙸𝚃𝙴 𝙸𝙽𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽 𝚂/𝙾]

Summary: Reader gives Cody their jacket at Yukon + general headcanons. ☢︎ | Total Drama | ~1k words | gender-neutral reader ♡ | Cody ⚠ | haven't rewatched the episode so I'm only writing the episode as I remembered it with the help of the wiki lol

[𝙲𝚘𝚍𝚢]

⚠︎ | setting: Total Drama: World Tour

Cody really likes being around you.

You emit energy that just gives him that daily boost.

Whether it's your confidence and lightheartedness or a good joke, he usually has a smile while hanging around you.

He also likes to join in on playing the comedian with you if he feels creative, so you're a fun duo!

He's curious why Chris likes you so much.

I mean, he can see why, you're like, the best person ever to be around, (in his opinion) but still.

And you're kind enough to share anything extra with him!

You got him by a surprise when it first happened, as at the time you were friendly, but only briefly spoke to each other.

Next on the trip list was "Yukon". You knew it was gonna be cold. But being the TV host's favorite intern wasn't that bad, you knew you were probably gonna get decent clothing. As you expected, the temperature was freezing. But of course, Chris couldn't be cold, so he got himself a cozy and stylish jacket. You and Chef also got the blessing of getting something warm to wear, unlike the rest of the campers. You felt some hope after Chris announced that he ordered the jackets for the others, but it quickly washed away when you heard his response to Heather that "they should arrive in six to eight weeks". You sighed, but ultimately you were helpless to do anything. You took a liking to Cody, he was fun to be around and you thought his "tough man" was both entertaining and kinda sweet. I mean, at least he tried, right? You started talking in the short moments when you both had a break and a chance to interact with someone in between the challenges. You never went out of your way to help anyone as it was technically cheating, but you felt like you had to do something when you saw Cody freezing after he fell into the cold water and Sierra had to rescue him. You saw her throw him on the land from the floating ice block, thinking he's somewhat safe now, until you heard the abrupt sound of him hitting the nearby mountains which made you cringe from the secondhand pain. Once the camera focused on the other contestants trying to make it through the challenge, you sneakily approached Cody, who was visibly shaking while laying on his back and processing what just happened. "Oof- Dude, you alright?" You hovered above him with a concerned look on your face. "Y-Y/N?" He managed to stutter out while the cold tried to shut up him up. You offered him a hand so he could get up, to which he accepted with a shaking grip. Without a word, you gave him the only thing you had on you, your jacket. "T-That's for me?" He asked, a bit in disbelief for your kind act. "Of course, I can't let you freeze to death." You quickly explained with a smile on your face. "But what about you?" He questioned once more, seeing as you had nothing else to put on. "Hey, I haven't fallen into the freezing water, did I?" You pointed out, although you appreciated him worrying about you as well. "R-Right." He flashed a shaky smile and extended his hand as you passed him the clothing item. "T-Thank you." He tried to keep his teeth from grinding, which stopped as soon as he put it on. The cold was still biting your ass, but at least you felt good knowing he wasn't about to die anymore. Cody started to feel a bit awkward seeing you start to shake, though. "Hey- now that you're the one being cold, I feel kinda selfish here." He admitted, halfly-joking. You took a second before responding. "Well- There's always an option with huddling for warmth" You responded, also halfly-serious. You didn't mind close contact and free warmth, so you hoped Cody wouldn't either. "Unless you got cold feet." You heard a slight chuckle come out of his lips after your words. "Okay. But only to break the ice." He put on a grin which showed his goofy tooth gap. He was pleasantly surprised with the amount of casualness from you, but also a bit lost on how to act, so he resorted to lightning up the mood as well. You reciprocated the giggle and stepped closer, feeling his body against yours. He hesitated a little, but finally embraced you into his arms. "Don't let Sierra see you though, you might make some enemies with her after that." He warned you only slightly serious about it.

Cody was far more casual and friendly with you after that one kind gesture.

And with time, he began to see you as legit one of the closest people he got to meet on the show.

But the thing that made him enamored in you was when you got to his heart through his stomach.

You knew that the teams had to endure Chef's horrible cooking each time they lost, and you were glad when you didn't have to worry about the food being a probable cause of your death when Chris gave you your share of the meals. So, naturally you also wanted to grant that opportunity to your close acquaintance as well. Per usual, you approached Cody after you had a moment to yourself. "Hey Codemeister, what's up?" He turned his head towards you as he heard the familiar tone of your voice. "Y/N, hey!" His face lighted up and he straightened his back to properly look at you while sitting on the crappy, wooden seat, "Had your dinner already?" You asked casually, sitting next to him. "If that's what you call it- yeah." He cringed at the economy class food. "Why?" "Well, I just had this cookie that i conveniently kept for you, so..." You slightly teased as your hand slowly got the packaged, delicious goods out of your pocket. "What, dude, no way!" He gasped slightly as he saw the cookie in it's glory. "It's mine?" "Yeah." You nodded with a smile, already happy about his excited reaction. "You're amazing!" He attacked you with a hug without thinking twice. You felt Sierra staring daggers at you.

#total drama #total drama x reader #x reader #headcanon #imagine #gn reader #gender neutral reader #cody #td cody #total drama world tour #td cody x reader #ask #request #headcanons #total drama cody x reader #intern reader

[fukuokadivision1]

Tasuku's Thoughts on OverDrive

Eko Seishin

"'Mr. Aoi', himself? He's the closest thing Fukuoka has to a top-notch celebrity, I guess. ...But then again, since we're all part of this rap tournament that's sponsored by Chuohku, we've all been in the limelight. So... if you stop and think about it, doesn't that all make us kind of celebrities too? If so, it sure doesn't feel like it. I mean, aside from rapping in front of all of Japan, nothing about our lives has really changed. We're still doing the same old stuff that we've been doing long before..."

"Bah! Sorry, I went off a tirade there. Bad habit of mine. Anyway, this guy is sort of a bigshot here, but... you know, as good as he is, there are plenty of idols out there. He's just one face out of a billion others. ...Hey, sorry to say, but it's the truth."

Mai Yousei

"Like Sanyu mentioned, I met this person when she and I came to pick Ming up from work. Kind of a surprise for a person as weak and scrawny as them to be such a high-profile dancer. ...Or maybe, they've just been through some stuff and I should stop being so judgmental. Ming even mentioned that they haven't had an easy life too. ...Maybe that's why I caught Sanyu and them staring at each other, as if they knew what the other one had gone through. Kind of ironic that people in pain always seem to be able to find and commune with one another..."

Yuno Kamora

"Sanyu was kinda surprised to see a real-life butler. Not much of a surprise since she wasn't born into nobility like Ming and I were. Me, once you've seen one servant, you've seen them all. And truthfully, I didn't care much for the ones in my household. I didn't like forcing or commanding them to do anything that I couldn't do myself. My stepmom would say that that was what they were there for, but I didn't view it like that. I know they were just doing their jobs, but I hated relying on others to do things for me. That's kinda how I still am, to be honest."

"Anyway, I don't know much about this guy. He seems courteous enough, but that's about it."

OverDrive

"Not to quote Sanyu, but... what the hell, Chuohku? After all the drama you guys went to force Sanyu into your little game, now your adding another Fukuoka team into the mix? And let me guess, we're expected to face them in the semi-finals to determine just which of us is going to be the team to represent Fukuoka, right?" *sighs* "And you guys wonder why everyone has such hate for you all. Because you all pull crap like this and just expect us to be 'okay' with it."

"...Well, whatever. What's one more team, am I right? Nothing against these guys. They all seem like a nice group of people, but... if the choice is between us and you, then I'm choosing 'us'. Sorry. Hopefully there are no hard feelings after this."

#hypmic #hypnosis mic #hypnosis microphone #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic oc #mihanasa #tasuku kawanoe #fukuoka division #overdrive #eko seishin #mai yousei #yuno kamora

[duncandonuts06]

Just want to say I love Schatzi. I think he's cute 😀👍🏻

Can we make an admirer club for him? /j XD

What is his fate after the war ended? Will he and Davenport met? Will he meet other engines (canon character) from the franchise or he just like exist in same universe as they are without meetings each other?

aw thank you very much!! So happy to see he's got some admirers! With each passing day the Schatzi fanclub grows larger XD

All awesome questions! His fate is murky. I am still in the research and development phase of his story. I have thought a lot about what his life would be like after the war and haven't fully decided what path I wish to take yet. Whatever happens it's likely it won't be all sunshine and roses. Here comes my nerd brain:

After the Treaty of Versailles, Germany had to surrender all military technology to the allies. This included airplanes, trains, ships, and weaponry. A lot of it was either scrapped, used as target practice, or integrated into allied armies for training purposes. Many Brigadeloks survive to this day and found second chances on logging railways after the war. Whatever happens to our lad, he is still going to go through a lot of hardship. All of his friends and family finally get to go home and live out their days in peace while he, most likely, would become a prisoner of war even after the war itself is long over with. Maybe his comrades find a way to save him and bring him back to Germany or take him somewhere else. Either way everyone he knew and loved will be separated from him for a long time, maybe even forever. I don't have the heart to put him through too much pain but I do love me some angst!

Schatzi will never meet Davenport in canon but I definitely want to make some little one off interactions between them for fun. They are very different in personality and build which could cause a lot of drama not to mention the whole enemies in war thing. As for canon Thomas characters! I am not sure! I sorta would like to keep it a separate story that only exists in the same "universe" but it's fun thinking about how the Skarloey engines in particular would react to him. He's so much bigger and different than them it would be like worlds colliding. I think Sir Handel in particular would absolutely despise him.

Thank you for the wonderful ask! woohoo enjoy the paragraphs oops

#telegram from the front #ttte #ttte oc #ask #tw war #ww1 #ww1train #ww1 au #trenchengine #skarloey railway

[viviennelamb]

Play Your Role to Perfection!

In every piece of media I've seen, watched and heard, the Virgin is the one who is protected. I haven't seen an exception to this unless it was for shock value. Those who are pure are often the ones scaring the soiled protagonists which is why female children are often depicted as villains in horror movies.

Virgins are spiritually protected. The delusional Christian's favorite verse is "put on the whole Armor of God" (Ephesians 6:10-18) but never specify what that means. The only armor one can have in the spiritual war is purity (and it's best to layer that protection with a spiritual bodyguard).

Most people have thousands of penis-sized holes in their armor while foolishly believing they are God’s favorites because they have a beast system souvenir. While those who are actually favored by God are gifted limitless peace and don't have mediocre problems.

Religious people will tell you to not watch media and not use technology, but I think you should tune in and pay attention because the roles of this Drama are outlined in full on television and social media. I agree that you shouldn't watch anything for entertainment, though.

When you watch media, pay attention what happens to the perverts. Sex is shown within the first 10 minutes and the individuals who have sex are going to get fucked hard and bleed out for the entire show. The theme of the dark age is constant conflict because it is a reflection of what goes on in the individual's inner world.

The most common trope is characters having horrible luck or killed shortly after expressing lust in thought, word or deed. Thing is, the audience enjoys when these individuals get killed even though that is who they are - the short lived character who only cares about their genitals. The audience even finds it entertaining when they think they're more important than they actually are and see fornicators as a liability who drags the show down.

Plenty of modern horror or psychological media's opening scene is a couple having sex and getting killed during or right after the act. Which is the "death" of the soul through the growth of egotism. When God decides to reset that soul, that person is crushed and nobody feels bad for them because it's what they deserve. Pain is purification after all...

This is the "cleansing of evil" most people are waiting for, but then they get upset when their fellow fornicators get screwed claiming that they didn't deserve it... how would you know that?!

We're at the point where people can't wait to share their miseries, overjoyed in their egotism because they're "relatable," when unfortunate events are a chance for them to turn to God. If they're blind to Divinity because they haven't suffered enough, they will be beaten to a pulp again and again until they get the hint.

Most people are living in a Bird Box dimension. Those who have fearlessly taken off their blindfolds see those blind to the soul as paranoid, conspiratorial, schizophrenics who shoot at the air causing the mayhem they say they want to be freed from. To the impure, God is the monster they desperately don't want to see which is why they dedicate their lives to destroying innocence. As long as you keep those blindfolds on, you will never see what True Beauty looks like.

Open your eyes and see, bitches. There is no separation between the "real world" and the screen, it's karmic reality. You chose the role you want to play, so play it to its fullest and fear-based non-action comes with karmic pain as well which is why most people are fixated on what others are doing... that's because you're still egotistical. If you hold back or half-ass it you're failing.

#PS: If you're not capable of focusing on yourself #it's better that you focus on me. Whether you think you hate me or not serves me regardless #because I get to direct your attention to God. that's the end of this big picture. what you think you feel about me doesn't matter #i know you're desperate to be saved and you will be regardless of how much egotism you're steeped in #it's up to you to decide how many lifetimes you want to suffer and stay in your shitty role all because of your false pride... #spirituality #ego #egotism #non-duality #non dualism #non duality #nondualism #non resistance #life imitates art #life imitates life #art imitates life #spiritual journey #spiritualism #hero's journey #all the world's a stage

[drama--universe]

Please trust me

Requested by @creepypastalover93: I warmly greet!🧡 I see the requests are open again! Can I have a Hwarang request? I feel like they haven't been here for a long time… Request for Yeo Wool: Where the reader belongs to the more beautiful women and therefore many men are interested in her. But the reader rejects them all and wishes that she was not one of the more beautiful women, because she wanted the man to like her for her nature, the way she is and not only for her beauty, and her partner then bragged to others that he had a beautiful partner. This made her unhappy, so she began to avoid men…and to avoid being recognized, she wore a scarf over her face. But Yeo Wool always recognized her…ALWAYS. Sensing her distress and fear of the men around her, he decided to find out why. Because he believed that when the reader saw such a handsome man like him, she would be charmed by him, but the opposite was true. He becomes interested in a reader, so he tries to befriend her so that she won't be afraid of him and will start to trust him…and maybe something more will come of it later? I'll leave it up to you darling!🧡Just something cute please, I've been having bad days lately...😢😢😢

Pairing: Kim Yeo-Wool x fem!reader

Word Count: 1.2k words

Warnings: anxiety

A/N okay, just a quick thing. I wanted to write true to the history of when Hwarang takes place, however I decided not to a bit later. Reason for that is because of the face covering stuff. In the Joseon Dynasty (10th century), noble woman covered their faces with sseugaechima, which is basically a skirt that they wore on their head (you might see some historic dramas do this). I found this a bit awkward, so I chose to not do this and instead just use a sort of veil that covers the lower part of the face. Sorry for the history thingy :/

Ignoring the whispers and stares, you tried to exit the tavern quickly. 5 months with him, thinking he actually cared for you. No, of course he only cared for your looks. He didn't care for your feelings, passions or anything of the sorts. You were just glad that your friend told you, telling you about the comments that fell from your ex-partners lips and this led to you breaking up with him. It hurt, spending so much time with someone who never actually cared.

Only a day later, men started to approach you and ask for your hand. Almost like you hadn't just broken up, all saying the same thing as well. They told you that they were enamored by your beauty and that they couldn't help but want to spend time to get to know you. You expected all of them to be the same as your ex, which was clear to you when they start a sentence with 'your beauty' every single time they tried talking to you.

So from then on, you wore a veil to cover your face and styled your hair differently. Somehow it worked, people never recognizing you and thus leaving you alone. It was peaceful for once.

What you didn't realize is that someone did recognize, which was Yeo-Wool. He recognized you by your eyes, they were unique to him and in his opinion the most beautiful about you. It was cliché, but he always liked them. They showed all of your emotions, the pain or the excitement you felt at that moment. So even with a face covering, your eyes remained the same.

"May I join you?" A voice pulled you out of your thoughts and when you looked up, a man entered your vision and you could only sigh softly. Yeo-Wool stood opposite of you, a gentle smile on his face. Normally you wouldn't think anything of it, but anxiety build up inside of you nonetheless. Your hands started shaking lightly, not enough for others to notice it but enough for Yeo-Wool to. So he remained at a distance, making sure that you noticed that he did. You did, but your hands kept shaking lightly as your eyes moved to your cup. Your anxiety lessened a bit, however.

"What were you doing?" He asked, his fan coming up to cover the front of his face and you noticed the painting on the front. A tree, painted in shaky lines that indicated that it wasn't done by a professional and yet it looked beautiful. Maybe he did it himself or maybe one of his friends did. Yeo-Wool could see the fascination in your eyes and could only smile a bit more behind his fan. His question was long forgotten as he kept an eye on you, but that soon stopped when he saw you visibly flinch away from the person that came your way. Yeo-Wool wanted to ask if you were alright, but you were already leaving the tavern.

"It's not that safe so late out here." Yeo-Wool walked closer to you and you sighed softly again. In this week, Yeo-Wool had approached you around five or six times already. At this point, your anxiety didn't react to him anymore as he always remained at a distance and he never made you feel uncomfortable. It was nice to talk to him at this point, but you were still on your guard. Almost like he sensed it, Yeo-Wool soon stood beside you and sat down next to you.

"Why is a lady out this late, if I may ask?" He spoke, voice gentle and almost silent. You wondered if you should answer, your eyes remaining on the stars in the sky.

"The sky." You answered simply and Yeo-Wool was in awe of your voice, a sweet melody to his ears, as he glanced upwards. The sky was a dark blue, millions of stars shining brightly and a full moon lighting up everything below. Indeed very pretty to look at.

"Do you think true love exists?" You suddenly spoke up again and Yeo-Wool looked at you, surprised that you were looking back at him this time. Registering the question, Yeo-Wool could only shrug.

"It depends how you view it. I believe in finding someone you want to spend your life with, build a family with. I don't know if that necessarily means true love." He answered and he meant it. His family loved each other, but it was clear that it was also a political marriage in a way. His mother was barely home and his father didn't enjoy spending time at home either. Yeo-Wool was raised by the staff that worked at his house and maybe sometimes his mother.

"But it's not the only kind of true love. Friends can also have love for each other and I believe that that kind of love is more true. Different, but the same in the end." Yeo-Wool continued and you couldn't help but gawk at him. You didn't expect Yeo-Wool to ever think or talk about such stuff, believing him to be more of an arrogant noble like all the rest. One that didn't care for the people surrounding him, yet here he was calling it true love.

"If you trust me, I hope we can be friends like that some day." He spoke one final time before getting up and leaving.

This time you were the flustered one.

Yeo-Wool didn't think you'd ever approach him first, yet you stood beside him. Your eyes were trained on his arm, trying to figure out what the bandage was for and wanting to help a bit. He couldn't help but smile, not used to you caring.

"I had an accident during sword training. Don't worry, Ah-ro fixed me up already." He explained and you looked up before softly nodding. You knew Ah-ro, she was good at her job and probably did a good job with healing it. So you took your eyes off of his arm and instead moved to the road ahead of you. Other Hwarangs covered the market place, all interested in different stalls that held their own unique stuff. Yeo-Wool stood with the jewels and fans, like usual.

"You should be more careful, what if you get an ugly scar?" You commented and Yeo-Wool chuckled. "Then you'll have to take care of me." He teased as he started walking away again.

"I never agreed to that!" You replied and he turned around to smile at you again before joining his other friends. You only shook your head.

"Out here again?" "Shouldn't you be in the Hwarang house?" You replied as Yeo-Wool stepped closer to you, sitting down next to you like last time and his eyes immediatley went to the sky.

"Are we friends?" You asked and Yeo-Wool nodded at you, replying with an 'of course'. Shockingly, you only lowered your head before raising your hands to your veil. Untying the knots, you pulled the mask down and looked at him. He didn't react in shock or anything, just a gentle smile your way before looking back at the sky. Silence fills the air, but neither of you minded. It was comforting in a way and you both enjoyed it as you looked at the sky.

You weren't over your anxieties just yet, but Yeo-Wool was there for you and would help you through.

#hwarang #hwarang x reader #hwarang yeo-wool #hwarang yeo-wool x reader #kim yeo wool #kim yeo-wool #kim yeo-wool x reader #kim yeo wool x reader #yeo-wool x reader #yeo-wool #yeo wool #yeo wool x reader #reader insert #x reader #request #creepypastalover93

[eruscreaminginthedistance]

Hit the halfway mark early! It's so exciting to be able to reach these smaller milestones when they seemed insurmountable before. I always get super bummed out and don't know what to write but then as soon as I start writing the brain worms start wriggling and I get all of these ideas.

My camp nano draft is a really big sci fi fantasy concept with lots of galactic war, lore, and beasty elements that make writing by the seat of my pants a real pain. I love it, but half of what I'm writing is placeholder names and placeholder settings and placeholder terminology. I've been calling my alien race "outworlders" because I haven't thought of a term for them yet, and haven't even figured out what they look like. I'm copying my military structure wholesale from Star Trek because it's all I can think of at the time. My Hannah and J keep referring to people  and areas as "___". It's an absolute mess, but it's so good to get in the weeds and ignore content for a change and focus only on structure. When you've got a short word count it puts one's structural weaknesses in the spotlight. I've added a year time skip to help facilitate getting my characters through a middle act which I think works for now. Might skip ahead and do a bit of act 3/ending stuff as well. I think as long as I can prove I can do an opening, a couple of plot-important middle scenes, and an end, by the end of the month, I'll be set.

It might be a struggle tho. The urge to write something else is always there. I think once I've burnt out on Hannah's story I'd like to try and write a couple of fantasy novella ideas I've got crashing around in there. They might be easier to finish and edit as a first attempt at a full book. They would be set in my medieval fantasy continent - Mahgos - and depending on which one I vibe with more, I'd either go for the medieval legal drama about my young rookie lawyer attempting to prove his client innocent of witchcraft, or the closed room murder mystery set in a duchess's island palace in which her court are mysteriously dropping dead.

#camp nano 2024 #camp nano #writing #journal

[cuddlytogas]

GOOD OMENS 2 SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!! spewed out right after binging last night and then added to today. I'm mostly gonna ramble about structure rather than content, but the last few bits get quite spoilery

before that, though, one other thought: I DO hope the power of fandom now will mean that we'll get an influx of people listening to Cabin Pressure and JFSP and Double Acts and all that good stuff!!! John Finnemore is such an incredible writer and comedian, and I know the "following fandom brain into a rabbithole of someone's previous work" is a lot more common for actors than writers, but. one can dream!!!!!!! knowing Finnemore was a co-writer was what reassured me that the new season wasn't going to be an unnecessary sequel, he's so fucking good, and in conclusion ---

okay onto the s2 thoughts

obviously I'm, like. insane now. like I'm gonna shatter into a million pieces and also be sick. I have LOST my MIND. and it WAS good!!!

but also

I thought the pacing wasn't nearly as good as s1? obvs s1 had the ticking clock element, which is hard to recreate without just having another ticking clock, but especially some of the flashbacks tended to linger a smidge too long, and you could tell some of them were written by other writers - the "minisodes" thing I think didn't HELP. obviously I don't think this was a MAJOR problem, and I'll want a rewatch when i feel less Fully Insane to judge properly, but even ending aside, I feel like it didn't have quite the same structural/pacing qualities that made s1 so watchable

I thought the extension of the preexisting 1941 flashback felt... a bit hack-y? (it also went on too long tbh.) the reason those worked so well in s1 was because they were these little snippets, extending it (again, especially to the length that they did) was a little... hm. not, like, a cardinal sin, and it might just be a taste thing, but. again, the "minisodes written by other writers" thing didn't help.

and I'm REALLY sad it was released all at once!! with all the mystery elements, I would've loved a week to week format - even two episodes a week - to really digest all the clues, to sit and speculate and process each reveal/development! I just read that Neil Gaiman wanted that too, so it's extra hurtful. it would've been such a satisfying way to consume the show, but alas, Binge Culture must prevail, I guess :\

finally... I might be genuinely disappointed by the ending? I mean, the religious trauma is Strong With This One, and it'll depend on what they do with s3 (I'm not even going to humour the idea of no s3), but just... okay, real spoilers from here

it felt like Aziraphale really backslided?? like, wasn't the whole point of s1 the learning of "heaven and hell are both a bit shit and we're on our own side"? I understand why the final choice was compelling, both to him and the audience, but even across the season - and especially taking both seasons' flashbacks into account - he really sort of pinged back and forth between learning the lesson and going right back into denial about it, in a way that started to feel less like a character flaw and more like a cheat to keep the drama going. obvs his final choice was DEVASTATING, but also I couldn't stop thinking that Aziraphale... knows better??? not just "he should know better, how heartbreaking", but haven't we SEEN that he KNOWS BETTER?? it felt... inconsistent? again, as a writing choice rather than a character thing

like, I've slept on this thought now and calmed down a little about it, obviously I'm a bit biased by how also extremely painful that whole last scene was to watch, but - thing it, it's not even the decision itself that sits so formally wrong with me! the "I could fix things if I were in power" self-delusion is a very believable and narratively compelling (READ: HEARTBREAKING) move, as is him believing "if Crowley were an angel and I fixed everything then we could be safe and together and everything would be fine"!

but specifically the "but heaven are the good guys" - that gets me! like, after everything?? you really still believe that?? I thought it was obvious you learnt your lesson?? something something, "how can someone so smart be SO stupid?" - except we already did that bit in s1!! ahhh I dunno, it just rings a bit too much of the kind of undoing character development and recycling drama that I reeaaaally don't like :\

like, just. the pure disbelief in crowley's face - "tell me you said no" - like, yeah. and not just in a character sympathy way, but - come on, Aziraphale!! we've been through this so many times now!!!

again, this will also all rest on how it's handled in s3. and I have some faith! s2 actually bringing up crowley's "I was there when you tried to destroy Aziraphale, I saw your face when you told him to shut up and die" was revelatory, I loved that they actually made reference to it. and the writers are good! this isn't going to be a wwdits situation, I think we're safe in that. but s2 definitely had a few more plotty/pacing flaws, and that's just SUCH a huge betrayal - that whole ending was so massive - I have a lot of gay fear about how it'll all be resolved.

or, I dunno. maybe I'm just still too sad to think straight.

#Good Omens #Good Omens season 2 spoilers #spoilers #Good Omens spoilers #GoodOmenss2spoilers #GO2 #GO2 spoilers #pointless post is pointless #okay i think i'm done #just needed to throw some thoughts into the void

[hilsoncrater]

idk how that WIP fmk ask game works but i’d be curious to hear ur thoughts on any ted lasso wips you have !

HELL yes tysm!! i LOVE talking abt WIPs

fuck - the story you just want to read instead of having to write it yourself

i have the outline done for a tedtrent western film AU inspired by a convo with @stevecarrington @tomlinfonda and @larkin21 !!

the fic is set in the 60s, right as the western genre is going out of style. rebecca owns a film studio (richmond studios) in hollywood, and wants to blow up its reputation to get back at rupert. so she has higgins cast ted, a high school drama teacher from kansas, to star in an upcoming western film. she then personally hires trent, an established director well-known for being a cold-hearted bitch to work with, to direct the movie. the film itself is risky, as it subverts cornerstones of the western genre. this is the film's synopsis:

Mason "Badlands" Morris (Theodore Lasso) is a lone cowboy rider hired for a job he don't normally do: escort a Miss Josephine Fairfax (Keeley Jones) from Kansas all the way to California so she can reunite with her beau Jack (Jamie Tartt). To ensure no untowardness, her uncle Ezra (Roy Kent) accompanies them, himself desperate for a change. Over the course of 14 days during the spring of 1856, the trio face unexpected challenges and uncover secrets which would best be left buried.

the fic spans from the first initial table read all the way to release day. shenanigans and unlikely romances ensue. i have everything for this SO clearly mapped in my head and on paper, but i know it's going to be a massive undertaking putting it into words. so if i could just...read it instead that'd be amazin LMAO

marry - the story you're obsessed with writing and never want to stop working on or thinking about

break me, shake me, devastate me (come here baby) is one i cannot stop writing/thinking about. the second and final chapter for it is going to be at minimum 7k words long because i keep adding more details in or reworking scenes. especially since the james lance interview dropped and we got more trent lore. the flipside to this is that i'm chewing my nails, sweating over the fact i haven't updated in 12 days. i deadass tried to update this past sunday but!! no!! it didn't feel complete yet. so hopefully this weekend it'll happen

grief and longing are my favorite themes to write about, which this fic explores. i have a playlist titled "grieving" that i made purely to listen to while writing this fic.

kill - the story you're most frustrated with and would rather just put it in the trash (or a high shelf somewhere to forget about for a long time)

i've kind of already done this, but there's a royjamie fic i'm bashing my head against the wall about. i got inspired by AURORA's songs "forgotten love" and "soft universe", specifically the lyrics:

You are the reason I can dance Within a fire of goodbyes, of goodbyes I can lie in a dark room without the feeling that I'm lonely

and

My body falls off the side of her bed And now I know what love feels like Don't let me turn into pain All of this is loveliness Chaos came, we laid our head Down on the feather cotton bed You find a heart and catch your breath Let the universe go red Speak to me, speak to me With love in your words Make for me, make for me A soft universe

basically the fic is about different times roy and jamie sleep together in the same bed. it explores their unspoken codependency and the soft intimacy they share underneath their weird dynamic. the reason i'm frustrated is that i cannot seem to find a good enough explanation for why they start sharing a bed LMAO

currently i have something inspired by the fonda/redford film Our Souls At Night, where jamie shows up at roy's door one night and is like "i can't sleep, mate. i miss having a person next to me."

we'll see though. maybe i'll find motivation for the fic again

#thank you for the ask!!!!!

[wanderlust-in-my-soul]

Currently watching - August

Because I love a good little list 😊

Regularly updated during the month - colored = finished

Currently airing

180 degree longitude passes through us (3/8)

Damn, THIS IS SO GOOD. The cinematography, the acting, the relationships, the tension. I am blown away! Episode 3 delivered and I am here for it. If it goes this way I can tell it will be in my top watches of 2022.

Extraordinary Attorney Woo (12/16)

I love this so much! I love the character growth in so many of them. I guess like the most of us I just adore Lee Jun-Ho. He is a walking green flag! This is such a great series! Damn, my days have simply too few hours!

The Eclipse (3/12)

Ayan is so sassy and Akk is already so confused. I enjoy their progress with each other very much. The story so far is really good and I can't wait for the next episodes!

Vice Versa (6/12)

This is something else. Love the whole different universe thingy and I think the main couple really do have chemistry with each other. The concept of time is something else in this series...I haven't any clue that they are in this universe for a whole fucking year! What the...? But I enjoy this series and its color concept very much!

About Youth (2/10)

First episode made me tear up...I would say this is a good start for a really great and emotional connection to this series. Yeah, I like this one a lot.

Love in the air (2/13)

Hm...I am not sure after the second episode. People who are triggerd by sa or the hints of it...stay away? My moral compass might be a bit of, but so far I can not really enjoy it?

Takara-kun to Amagi-kun (2/8)

The second episode was so much better! I couldn't stop smiling because they're just adorable together.

What if (3/5)

Sometime a low budget drama is just perfect at the end of the day. The friendship in this feels real and so does the relationship between Smart and Peach. The episodes are very short, so you can't do much wrong watching this one.

Coffee Melody (7/10)

Update from the update...It is boring...Duan Yi is very self-centered...he is bland...the lack of chemistry is astonishing...I can't see any plot or progress. At this point (ep 7) it is just painful to watch.

Unforgotten Night (10/12)

Hell yeah! And with hell I literally mean hell! This is a very special series whose depiction of a whip-wielding “dom” will never leave my memory. If you like trash, go for it!

Mama Gogo (2/10)

There are too many series on the side to satisfy my need for second-hand embarrassment that I've neglected Mama Gogo a bit. There are sexy dancing men...so I will definitely keep watching, really!

Minato Shouji Coin Laundry (10/12)

The story of a coin laundry owner becoming friends with a high-school student and we have to wait where this is going. Well acted and kind of cute so far. The tension!!!! Damn!

War of Y (4/20)

This is a strong one. It is a slap in the face for the industry and the audience. Watching it doesn't make you feel comfortable and I enjoy it very much.

On Cloud Nine (4/6)

This had a strong start. I like the atmosphere and the scenery. All those flowers and the emptyness. I have my thoughts about all of this, but I keep them quiet for now.

My only 12 % (2/14)

Not quite sure about this one. The first episodes were kind of...boring?

Already broadcasted series

Finished in August

Series

Love Mechanics (10/10)

Okay, this series has its flaws. Do I care? Not at all. I love it. I am obsessed with War's acting and Yin's progress. I don't care about cheating storylines as long as they make sense to me. I love the chemistry, I love the angst and I love their love for each other. 10 out of 10 painful moments

SOTUS S (13/13)

Oh I liked it. And I like the character of Arthit. He is a small, insecure bean and I want to give him a hug and tell him everything will be alright. Kong still can be a little bit to much for me. 8 out of 10 pink milks

The Novelist (6/6) + Spring Life

Exactly what I expected. It is no high romantic bl. It is a high heat boys lust drama. I liked the concept and the story and the acting is really fine. It has its flaws, but I can live with them. 8 out of 10 erotic novels

21 Day Theory (4/4)

This was a cute one. Short but it still managed to transport everything it wanted to tell us. I especially liked the coming out to the family and the friends. And the ending? Sweeeet! 9 out of 10 pastries

Even Sun (6/6)

First I thought I don't get the point, but after reading some comments I realised there was no point in this. The story was...wait, what story? Yes, the ending was cute, but the rest felt rushed and with too many plot holes. 4 out of 10 plot holes

Senpai, Danjite Koidewa! (8/8)

Hm. In the end, it didn't leave a bigger impression than I initially thought. It was a cute story, but the last two episodes were...kind of off. Like they needed some kind of conflict but couldn't come up with anything that would fit the story. 6,5 out of 10 shy smiles

Dark Blue and Moonlight (12/12)

I am just happy I finished it. It was bad. In the end I don't know what the point of all this was. The story got repetitive in the end...they break up, they make up, oh they break up, wait no, they didn't break up in the first place. It is just messy af! This series could have ended after five or six episodes. Yeah, not a fan. 3,5 out of 5 "break ups"

History 2: Right or wrong (4/4)

It took me some time to like Shi Yi Jie. Adored the daughter and her relationship with Fei Sheng Zhe. The story is ok. The character growth is there and I appreciated it. Nothing to rewatch, but nice to watch on a rainy afternoon. 7 out of 10 Egg Fried Rice

History 2: Crossing the line (4/4)

Love it. Great story, lovable characters and a lot of sports. I like the arc of the main and the kind of natural way the two protagonists become closer over time. 9,5 out of 10 volleyballs

History 3: Make our days count (10/10)

Okay, my softspot was without a doubt the side couple. Thomas Chang is just beautiful and I loved every scene he was in. And I don't have a problem with the ending...I am sorry, but I think it was well done and it works with what the series wants to tell us: cherish every moment and make every single day count, because life is short in the and. 8,5 out of 10 shower scenes

See you after quarantine? (10/10)

This was cute. Something different because of the way it was filmed. I liked the characters and the short (very short) episodes. Nothing special and still something to feel good about. 8,5 out of 10 S21

Add*cted (15/15)

What the toxic fuck was that? Don't get me wrong. I liked it. It was, most of the times, well acted and the story was quite nice, but damn those two are toxic as fuck. And yes, it looks like I threw my moral compass overboard a long time ago. 7 out of 10 toxic traits

My Secret Love (12/12)

A sweet college-BL with a little bit of cringe about a forced BL-couple. Main couple had a high cringe rate for me personal. They were cute, but a little stiff. Secondary couple is an established couple with its own problems and very touchy. Liked their dynamic. Third couple...never thought this one would end up being my favorite, but they are so cute! Adorable! Over all it wasn't something that blew my mind. It was good for a one-time-watch. 7 out of 10 youtube channels

I promised you the moon (5/5)

Still, I can't stand Teh's character. He's just an asshole whithout empathy (in my opinion). He hurts the people around him and in the end he is the victim. No sir...Don't like this attitude and your apologies don't help. But I enjoy Oh-aew and his journey to his true self. I have dearly wished for a happy ending for Oh-aew and Q. I have to say, I didn't like Teh in ITSAY, but here...I truly disliked him till the end! And he is the reason I can't give it a better grade. Not the cheating that angers me that much, but the way he thinks he is the center of everyones world. 6 out of 10 self-centred bitches

His Man (11/11)

Korea's first gay dating show. It was great to see them bond with each other, not just romantically, but with cute friendships. The atmosphere was really good most of the times. Two people found each other and it was quite cute to watch. The fandom, especially on twitter, was toxic af which was very unpleasent. There was so much hate for real people...viewers treated them as couples from their favorite bl and got angry because the real person ddn't act as a fake character but as a real person...and the production played along. I love this show for the particiants and for that 10 out of 10 but the production needs to fix the misleading shit they cme up with! 10 out of 10 for the eight beautiful men

Check Out (12/12)

This was bad. The amount of times I shouted at my screen and asked him what the hell was going on is way too high for 12 episodes. The story is messy as hell. The acting is...not good. The plot...what plot? They could have handled the story in one or two episodes. The characters are unlikable. I thought Tee deserved better, but after the last episode? Honey, you're not better than anyone else. Yeah, glad it is over...Can't recommend it. 1 out of 10 unnecessary drama

Short films

The Immeasurable (Taiwan)

I like it. Don't read the synopsys on gagaoolala if you don't like spoilers. I enjoyed the chemistry between the two protagonists, I like the aunt and I do like the story. I like that it is shows how fragile a relationship can be if you don't talk and don't listen even though you have a strong physical bond. 8,5 out of 10 baskeball courts

I'll be with you (South Korea)

Short film about a funeral and the way people deal with it and how little we actual now about others. The ending was unexpected and sweet. It was a good, short watch. 7 out of 10 black suits

Tidal (Taiwan)

This was painful and heartbreaking to watch. I liked it (well, no shit, I like pain...). Once again, if you don't like spoilers keep away from the synopsys...and I guess from my opinion too...damn... 7,5 out of 10 marbles

Movies

What I'm looking forward to in August:

War of Y (2. Aug)

On cloud nine (6. Aug)

21 days theory (7. Aug)

Papa & Daddy 2 (8. Aug)

The Eclipse (12. Aug)

My only 12% (12. Aug)

180 degree longitude passes through us (14. Aug)

Love in the air (18. Aug)

Takara-kun to Amagi-kun (19. Aug)

About Youth (29. Aug)

Ghost host, ghost house (? Aug)

#currently watching #masterlist #bl series #bl drama #love mechanics #vice versa #my secret love #coffee melody #senpai danjite koidewa #minato's laundromat #his man #sotus s #180 degree longitude passes through us #the eclipse #war of y #my only 12% #unforgotten night #extraordinary attorney woo #check out the series #Tidal #I'll be with you #The Immeasurable #i promised you the moon #see you after quarantine #history 3: make our days count #history 2: right or wrong #history 2: crossing the line #dark blue and moonlight #about youth #love in the air series