#i just needed to draw her because i love her and she deserves more stuff in her tag :(

[hraishin]

her.

I'll die before trying to fully color something again.

[ID/ A drawing of Uzumaki Mito with her hair down looking at the viewer. She has the Naruto whiskers on her cheeks and the tags with kanji she wears on her buns are on her ears like earrings. The drawing is lineart in black and white except for her hair and eyebrows which are colored a pale red and her eyes colored black. /END ID]

#a wild mito at home appears (or at least how i think she'd look at home when it's just her and hashirama ❤️ #obviously reference used to get the shape of a face right but im actually proud of how i drew the rest in the way i learned by doodling- #-for montha djsjdnskfjfj #i just needed to draw her because i love her and she deserves more stuff in her tag :( #also i love the idea of her with her hair down and wearing the tags as earrings when she doesn't have her buns :))))) #mito uzumaki #uzumaki mito #naruto fanart #naruto founders #founders era #naruto #fanart #from my own head

[be-good-to-bugs]

when i feel very lonely i get fizzled out of doing anything after less than an hour

#the bin #been feeling much more lonely since moving into this apartment and i cant draw bc of it #cause i have trouble continuing things i was drawing earlier. when i try im filled with this horrible exhaustion and sadness #its easier to feel better when im living more alone because i can play music or walk around and talk to myself and try to make things #brighter for me but when im living with someone especially someone who i really dislike its just impossible to do #and worse i have to hear them be here which just makes me feel even worse #ugh. my relationship with my sister has gone from bleh to awful. her absolute refusal to take me into consideration for anything including #bringing people over at nogjt without even telling me at all. the last straw. absolutely the last straw #hey yknow id love it if in the middle of the noght when i want a snack and dont wanna get all dressed id like to know theres someone here #cause id rather not them need the bathroom the same time and im just in my underwear. but noooo i dont have the need to know theres #some other person in my facking home. nope not my right #the thing where she insists she tells me that she was gonna have someone over when she didnt has been pissing me off a lot because she #uses the fact i have a poor memory to say why actually i misremembered..shes like well ur perception of reality sucks so u THINK u #remember correctly but actually u totally dont but like. im not having problems rememberi g other things like that right now. and i #distinctly remember these conversations and i always make not of when someoens gonna be here and when you tell me i remember #and theres so much proof that she also forgets stuff. but i honestly think she might be intentionally lying abt it because she forgot #to ask or didnt want me to say no. well i am saying no. idc if theyre already here. yall can go hangout elsewhere bc i wasnt told abt tjis #and i deserve to have quiet in my own home. its literally all i have. #ive been feeling like maybe shes not so bad. people grow and change and sometimes you dontjat in different directions #and you dont get along well anymore. i hear her say to other people that im still her favorite person so its very one sided abt this #honestly though its not just that we dont get along well anymore but nobody is at fault because she is at fault #its not like i never let her bring people over. i do. im just askingmthat im notified first. and her response to forgetting or choosing not #to tell me is to use my mental health things against me to say im just too mentally ill to knoq if i remember tnings cleatly #then how come tnis only ever happens with this thing or cleaning stuff? it ONLY rver happens with stuff that she wouldve needed to tell me #about that are important. oh an important bill i needed to know abt but u didnt tell me? i did but u forgot. #but never anything else. its only ever tnings that she would be in the wrong for not telling me about if she hadnt. thats it #so yonow im thinking maybe. u didnt tell me. which wouldnt blther me so much if she didnt just say actually i did but ur schizophrenia #made u forget wow ur so insano haha #ugh. she sucks. literally dont even wanna built legos with her even tho the set is cool as fuck bc being around her sucks #wow sorry for my many many many tags complaining about my sister. living with her is awful :/

[taexual]

sleepwalking ● 23 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, mentions of drugs (nothing graphic), descriptive SMUT (pet names and a sprinkle of worship included, beware), fluff and too much flirting to be allowed, some angst, SLOW BURN

words: 19.8k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 23 ► in this open warfare, i won't fight fair, and in your waking moments, i will be there

The next morning, you and Jungkook took Minjun, Luna, and Maggie to a small restaurant—unreasonably far from your hotel in London—to have a late breakfast and to plot. The five of you were a lot more concerned with the latter, and the bacon and egg sandwiches on your plates were relegated to mere decoration.

You had already discussed your plan with Luna and Maggie over the phone last night, but you wanted to meet everyone in person to ensure you were all on the same page, and to inform Jungkook of his role (which was intentionally non-existent).

You believed that the fewer members of Rated Riot got tangled up in Sid’s slimy web, the lower the risk of collateral damage. Ideally, you would have left Jungkook out entirely. But his friendship with Sid made him a linchpin in the machinations of your scheme—he would be the most affected if something went awry.

“This plan relies heavily on the circumstances, I admit,” you said, while your friends feigned interest in their food to avoid the disapproving glances of the restaurant staff. “But maybe that will work to our advantage because we will hardly have to do anything. We will draw the authorities’ attention to Sid, and that’s it. He’ll do the rest himself.”

“Yeah,” Minjun added as your primary accomplice in this scheme. He was busy trying to stop his napkins from blowing away in the fierce wind on the restaurant’s terrace. “And that’s why we need Jude to let us into their hotel room—”

“Wait,” had become Jungkook’s new favourite word. He used it now, too. “And are we sure that Jude won’t change his mind?”

Maggie and Luna turned to you, mirroring Jungkook’s skepticism.

“We’re not,” you admitted. You were aware of the risk, but time has never been more of the essence, and Jude was your best option. “We’re not telling him too much and hoping for the best.”

“And to be honest,” Minjun added, “the fact that she gave him that laundry list of shit to do—”

“Wait,” Jungkook said again. “What list?”

You waved off his question, but Minjun answered on your behalf, clinging to this as if it was the only convincing evidence the five of you had against Jude changing his mind.

“Like, vitamins and stuff,” he explained. “To ease his withdrawals. I don’t know if he followed her instructions, but anyone could see how much it meant to him, just the fact that she cared enough. Maybe that’ll be what keeps him on our side, even though he’s back with Sid right now.”

Maggie wrinkled her nose in clear disapproval, although you knew she would have reacted the same way if she’d seen Jude—her heart was bigger than her head, bless her.

“He’s done nothing to deserve this from you,” she pointed out.

“Yeah, he—yeah,” Jungkook agreed, the confidence in his voice wavering as he alternated between gratitude for your concern about Jude, and guilt for putting you in this position. “You didn’t have to help him.”

“He’s really not doing well,” you said. “And don’t think I’m so kind, I acted largely out of my own self-interest. We need him for our plan.”

Jungkook recalled Jude’s sneezing, his shivers in forty-degree heat, and his nausea. All of his symptoms always came and went without warning, but the memory of someone going out of their way for him was likely to stay.

“Okay,” Jungkook acquiesced. “That’s—let’s keep going.”

“We won’t need to involve Jude every step of the way, though, right?” Luna clarified. “I mean, I assumed we’d mainly need him to get rid of whatever Sid has in his phone gallery.”

“Yeah, but not just—we’re not just deleting the videos with Jungkook,” you said, glancing at Minjun, who had supported you wholeheartedly when you mentioned this part of the plan to him. He nodded now, too, encouraging you to explain. “We’ll delete everything he has in his Cloud storage and factory reset his phone. I doubt Sid had enough sense to back up his files to an external drive, so this will clear every copy of everything he has on there.”

Maggie’s eyes finally lit up with lively excitement, Luna nodded in agreement, and you felt a smile forming on your own lips, too.

Jungkook, on the other hand, appeared almost disappointed.

“W-we don’t have to go through all of this just to delete those videos,” he said, fixing his gaze on his untouched cup of matcha latte; the artwork on the surface had begun to blur. “Those things happened. I did all of that shit, and Sid recorded it. That’s who I was back then, and maybe I shouldn’t try to—”

You interrupted his words—the ones you’d already heard before—with a gentle touch of your hand over his restless fingers, and Jungkook stilled, turning to you.

“No, those videos are not who you are. You are the one who decides who you are,” you reiterated once more and the table fell silent around you as if everyone had witnessed something they were not supposed to. “And if you want to leave those things in the past, you should be able to. Sid has no right to bring it up now.”

“But if we lock Sid up,” he persisted, “then maybe those videos won’t matter anyway.”

“He could publish them,” Minjun countered. “He sent them directly to you now, but he could post them publicly later. I’m sure he’d find a way to do that even behind bars.”

Jungkook felt a rush of dizziness and he was very grateful that you’d pressed your hand on his. Minjun was right. Sid had done something like this before when he’d posted your picture; he clearly wasn’t above making private matters public.

“We would leave the videos be, let Sid have them, whatever,” you continued, reading the colour on his face, “but he wants to use them against you. He’s cutting them up to paint you as an irresponsible asshole. And you’re not an asshole, Jungkook.”

“Yeah,” Minjun agreed. “And I talked to Jude about an hour ago. He sounded sober, which is shocking to me, but, anyway—Sid has plans to go out tonight, so Jude should be able to do this tomorrow morning while Sid’s still passed out.”

The whole terrace of the restaurant seemed to hold its breath in anticipation as soon as he said that, the clink of cutlery and the muffled chatter around you growing tense.

Jungkook, even dizzier now, turned back to you once more. You gave him a small nod.

He took a breath and nodded back. “Okay. Alright. Fine. Let’s do it.”

“Good!” Maggie cheered from across the table. She turned to Jungkook, and you watched as her reassuring tone chased the last doubts from his eyes. “Even without those videos, we need to do this to get back at Sid. And I know this will do just that. I’d be tearing my hair out if someone cleansed my Cloud.”

You noticed that Maggie was much more vigilant with her phone today, hardly letting it out of her sight. She’d improved her security measures and had to enter her passcode every time she wanted to reply to a text today, because the facial recognition struggled to recognise the wind in her hair. This was the reason she hadn’t bothered with it before, but Sid had taught her a valuable lesson.

You gave your friend an agreeing nod and settled against the back of your chair.

Luna sat on your other side, leaning her elbows on the table, and she quickly noted the way Jungkook’s eyes widened when you pulled back, as if you had torn off a piece of his skin. She glanced at Maggie, who noticed nothing and kept checking the time on her phone as if she was late for another meeting to plan someone’s arrest.

Somewhat disappointed, Luna turned back to you, her grin doubling in size to compensate for her lack of company in teasing you.

“One big problem,” you said, focused on the intricacies of your plan and, therefore, unaware of your surroundings, “lies in our next steps. If we manage to get Sid arrested, he will likely weaponise his friendship with Jungkook. He’ll try to make it seem like they’re as close as brothers, and if he’s going to jail for meth possession, then Jungkook is probably doing drugs, too.”

You pulled your phone out from your bag and allowed for the weight of your words to settle on the table like a heavy grey tablecloth while you opened your gallery.

“So, this morning,” you continued, “Maggie and I put something together. This is a list of people who are banned from Rated Riot’s shows.”

You passed your phone to Luna first. She looked at the screen, nodded, and handed the phone to Maggie, who smiled to herself right away—she had designed the layout of the list and was very pleased with it.

By the time your phone reached Jungkook, he was already squirming in his chair. As he examined the list of names, displayed in bold white letters on a black background with a crumpled paper texture that Maggie had crafted and digitalised herself, he realised that the only name he recognised was Sid’s.

He looked up. “But if you post that—that’s—isn’t it supposed to be confidential?”

“I won’t post it,” you said. “We’ll leak it.”

“Oh.” A gleam of affection suddenly sparkled in his eyes. He felt a little like he’d just met you for the first time, all over again. “Can we do that?

Maggie reached across the table, snatching your phone from Jungkook’s hand to see the picture of the list again. She scrutinised the names for a minute as if trying to uncover the social security numbers of the people listed.

“No,” you replied. “But Sid never played fair, so we’re simply levelling the playing field. The other names on the list are made up anyway. They’re generic enough to match someone on Facebook, but no one will know which person is on this list.”

“But they’ll recognise Sid,” Maggie pointed out, squinting at your phone. “Even though he’s listed as Isidore here. Right?”

“That’s him, yeah,” you confirmed. “And you’re right. Everyone will recognise Sid. We’ll leak this before he gets arrested, and anything he says after that will just be taken as blatant slander.”

Jungkook took another deep breath and glanced at your phone, which Maggie slid towards you across the table. It bumped against the corner of your empty water glass.

“Won’t there be consequences if something else leaks?” he asked, his teeth grazing his bottom lip.

“Yeah, I was thinking that, too,” you admitted. “But then, Luna texted me a brilliant idea last night.”

You gestured towards your friend, and she continued.

“It’ll be accidental,” she explained. “Maggie usually posts backstage pictures on her Instagram. She has almost as many followers as the main account of your band at this point. So, later today, she will post a new set of pictures, and this list of names will just happen to be visible in some shots. Just a coincidence, really. And then we hope that one of your fans will notice it, zoom in, catch Sid’s name, and share it.”

Jungkook looked down, nodding to himself. He realised that Sid stood little chance against the collective resolve of everyone at this table.

“They will notice it,” he said. “I don’t doubt it.”

“We’ll have to rely on them to spread this,” you added. “Even though this list isn’t really something we need to hide. It’s just, you know, sort of customary in the industry to keep your dirty laundry to yourself.”

“Alright,” Jungkook said, sensing the weight of everyone’s gaze on him. He had the feeling that everyone was waiting for his final approval to move forward with this plan. “So, uh, Maggie won’t get into trouble for posting it?”

“Hmm?” Maggie looked up from her phone at the sound of her name. “Oh. No. I’m the photographer. As long as I get good shots, I never get in trouble. And this wouldn’t be the first time I’ve taken a picture that reveals more than I intended.”

She gave you a sheepish look, and you shook your head, sensing where the guilt in her eyes stemmed from. Maggie knew that Sid was behind the chaos caused by the bathtub picture, but she still felt a gnawing sense of responsibility because she was the one who had taken the picture.

“Alright. You, uh—you guys really put a lot of thought into this,” Jungkook remarked, looking at you first, then at your friends, and finally at Minjun on his other side. “I’m, uh—I-I’m actually a little afraid of you.”

Luna and Minjun snickered—Maggie was back on her phone, but she was smiling, too—and their excitement made you feel much more optimistic.

“Good,” you said, reaching out to touch Jungkook’s hand again. He immediately turned his hand round and firmly clasped yours—to ensure you wouldn’t pull away this time. “Sid should be, too.”

A tense silence settled over the table, punctuated by the subdued conversations on the terrace.

For the first time since you arrived at the restaurant, Jungkook finally took a sip of his coffee. It tasted bitter and lukewarm. You refrained from touching yours, but accepted a bite of Luna’s tiramisu. Everyone else at the table seemed to remember simultaneously that they had ordered food when they got here.

“Uh,” Maggie spoke up after a second, still chewing on the brown crust of her bacon and egg tart. “Is this a safe space for us to voice our, uh, concerns?”

You straightened in your seat, bracing yourself before she’s even said anything. Jungkook sensed your growing anxiety and squeezed your hand.

“Of course,” you replied, keeping your voice steady.

“Okay.” Maggie swallowed and set down her fork after taking exactly one and a half bites. “Well, I’m worried that Sid will say something provocative and one of us will end up getting arrested for assault.”

There was something absurdly comical in her question—or the potential outcome it suggested—and you could see Minjun quickly lower his head to conceal his broad smile.

Jungkook, meanwhile, was extremely pleased that no one turned to look at him, the person who had, more or less, already assaulted Sid before. It comforted him to know that everyone here would have loved to smack Sid upright in the head, too.

“That’s a great point,” you said, clearing your throat. “If he provokes you—well, then you might have a legitimate reason to, uh, land a good punch. You probably wouldn’t be held in custody too long for that. There’s no premeditation, you acted on impulse because of something he said.”

Minjun raised an eyebrow at you from across the table.

“I thought our focus was drug laws,” he said. “Did you research assault, too?”

“I researched assault laws the day I met Sid,” you deadpanned.

He snorted. “Yeah, fair enough.”

“Not to mention, we can always argue it’s self-defence,” Luna added, prodding her sandwich with a toothpick as if it were a not-quite-dead bug. “Sid is very—let’s say, aggressive.”

“That’s true,” Minjun agreed. “Especially when he’s irritated.”

The energy around the table had increased considerably; everyone seemed to have something to say about possible reasons to hit Sid. Maggie was already listing five ways to throw a punch that would knock out your opponent—she had a WikiHow article open and was illustrating it with enthusiastic demonstrations on Minjun.

You realised, quite suddenly, how happy you were to sit here with your friends. They were smart and cunning enough to rob a bank, escape a prison, and start a money laundering scheme all in a week, but they chose to be sweet and loving and a little vengeful instead. You felt almost giddy.

“He wouldn’t throw the first punch, though,” Jungkook interjected with a hint of frustrated sorrow. Maggie halted her research, retracting her fist from Minjun’s cheek. “He’ll just keep running his mouth until you strike him. And he’ll make sure the provocation is very minimal.”

“Well, sure, but who at this table will attest to any of that?” Luna questioned, undeterred. “Everyone who witnessed Sid throwing the first punch, raise your hands.”

All of you raised your hands in perfect synchronisation, and Jungkook felt himself smile again.

He had never doubted the success of your plan, even if he doubted the details. But sitting here now, while all of you held your hands up, he was fully convinced that this meeting marked the beginning of the end for Sid.

“Right. Okay,” he said. “I like how this is looking.”

“Me too,” Maggie said, locking her phone and slouching in her chair. “I feel better now. Didn’t want to spend the night at the police station.”

“You wouldn’t,” Luna assured her. “We’d bail you out.”

She snickered. “That’s good to—”

Jungkook suddenly jumped up in his chair, interrupting her.

“What about Sid’s bail?” he asked urgently. “Can he—could he pay for his release?”

Everyone at the table turned to you once more. When you and Minjun did your research yesterday, your focus had quickly turned from penalties to potential loopholes that Sid might use with his money, so you understood their sudden concern.

“No,” you said. “Apparently, it doesn’t work like that here. They would give him bail automatically; he wouldn’t have to pay. But they need to charge him with a specific offence first, and they won’t know the exact charges until they know what, uh, substances he was carrying on him and keeping in his hotel room—oh, and how much. Not to mention, bail may be denied if there is a risk that he’ll commit further crimes. And we know Sid is violent. He will not sit idly in his little cell.”

“Yeah,” Minjun agreed. “We’re 95% sure he won’t be given bail.”

You nodded, grateful for his confidence.

“So, we definitely won’t be in London by the time they charge him,” Maggie concluded, frowning. She regretted not ordering whiskey instead of espresso; alcohol helped her think.

“Definitely not,” you confirmed. “Our plan concludes with Sid’s arrest, everything else is not our problem anymore. And we’re only participating in this as the staff of Rated Riot, so the only people who will have to speak to the police are those who will be present when they arrive at the venue tomorrow. So, ideally, only Luna, Mick, and me. That’s it. That’s as far as we’re getting involved.”

“Wait,” Jungkook said. He understood the need for Mick’s presence and felt comforted that you’d have someone from security with you, but now he was worried about your friend. “Why Luna?”

“We need an additional witness to observe Sid’s erratic behaviour,” Luna explained. “We thought it’d be better to have someone random, and not just your manager and head of security there.”

Jungkook kept his gaze on hers. “How do you know he’ll behave erratically?”

She gave him a look.

“Right.” He leaned back in his seat. “Good point. Okay.”

He already knew that the odds were good that Sid would try to provoke you tomorrow, but now he realised that even if Sid suddenly decided to be docile, it wouldn’t matter. The five of you were tight as a glove—Sid could sit in a corner, purring and meowing, and you would all collectively claim that he was threatening you.

Finally, Jungkook realised that he had narrowly escaped something dreadful, and he felt very grateful to find himself at this table, and not on the other side of this plan.

“I, uh—this isn’t a concern exactly,” you said after a minute. “But I have to say that a lot of this hinges on Sid trusting my word, and I’m—well, I’m not sure if he’ll care about anything I tell him.”

Minjun looked almost offended. He was the one who devised this strategy after you told him that you needed a way to quickly draw the attention of the authorities to Sid.

Why don’t you call him? Minjun had suggested. And invite him to meet you.

You had thought he’d decided to go insane right before talking to you. But you’d kept your suspicions to yourself because, ultimately, calling Sid seemed like the only option. It felt unfair, however, not to mention your doubts now.

“Actually, I agree,” Jungkook said, giving you a long look. “I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with any of that. You’ll have to be alone in a room with Sid. And we can’t be sure that he won’t—”

“Sid will care,” Minjun asserted, ignoring everything Jungkook had said. He kept his gaze on you, his certainty almost as intimidating as it was comforting. “Maybe not because he has feelings for you, but because you’re Jungkook’s girlfriend.”

Maggie looked up from her phone, surprised about the possibility of Sid having any feelings at all, and turned to Luna. The two of them finally exchanged the look that Luna had been waiting for.

“And you’re okay with doing this?” Jungkook asked you, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your lips. He was careful not to miss any hint of dishonesty.

“I’m okay if this actually works,” you said. “If Sid shows up. If we get him arrested. I’m willing to try this if you’re all sure that we’ll succeed. And I wouldn’t be all by myself anyway.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about that part,” Maggie said to Jungkook, rolling up her sleeves for emphasis. Technically, she wasn’t supposed to be at the scene tomorrow, but she felt she had a personal debt to settle with Sid, so she would find a way to interfere if she had to. “I can fight.”

Jungkook looked at her in a way that was more amused than it was skeptical—Maggie was very small in size, but very big in energy—and she tried to flex her arms to prove her point.

“I believe you,” he said, a smile breaking through his uncertainty. “I just don’t like that this will all be happening during our show. I won’t be there with you.”

“That’s just the plan,” you said. “We need to keep you away from him so that anything he says later won’t carry any weight. He’s obsessed with you and he has problems, and you’ve been distancing yourself from him for some time now. We’ll release an official statement about your, uh, separation once we’re done with him. And the leaked blacklist will back up our claims.”

A resigned acceptance clouded Jungkook’s features: he understood that this was the right decision, but he couldn’t help feeling unhappy about it. However, although he would have typically complained and whined about this—and you expected him to—now his posture was stoic.

You felt a little dispirited. You knew you wouldn’t joke around much today, but Jungkook’s unusually serious demeanour emphasised the gravity of the situation even more.

“Okay,” Minjun said. “Any other concerns?”

You shifted your gaze to him.

“Actually, I have another one,” you said. “I’m also worried about how this will affect your parents.”

The two girls beside you exchanged another glance—you hadn’t explained Minjun’s family’s dependence on Sid’s mother yet.

“If Sid’s in prison?” Minjun asked, unperturbed. “Well, their stocks will probably drop, so it will be weird to throw a party. I think we’ll celebrate quietly.”

You glanced at Jungkook, and he met your eye with an amused grin.

“You sure you’re okay with this?” he asked Minjun then.

“Are you kidding?” Minjun looked optimistic and upbeat. He seemed ready to take on the world, and locking up Sid was just the first step. “We should have done this years ago.”

Maggie suddenly slammed her palm on the table, forcing everyone’s coffee cups to rattle against the plates.

“That’s what I’m talking about!” she exclaimed, and her excitement quickly spread to the rest of the table.

“I agree,” Luna added, much quieter. “But maybe it’s time we headed out. The people at the next table are whispering and, uh, pointing at Jungkook.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows and turned to you instead of looking around, his expression filled with a shocked wonder. He had only been recognised in public a handful of times since Rated Riot started out, and each instance had left an indelible mark on him.

You gave him a smile and a nod that spurred him out of his chair and towards the people at the neighbouring table, all of whom held their breaths when he stood up.

You glanced back at your friends—all smiling as they watched Jungkook introduce himself and singlehandedly cut off the air supply of four different people—and you thought about how wonderful it would have been if you had met Maggie and Luna earlier. If Jungkook and Minjun had stopped entertaining Sid’s whims sooner. If you and Jungkook had never broken up at all.

Perhaps, you thought, there was an alternative universe where you’d known and loved these people your whole life. You felt very close to that universe now.

Just as you finished your breakfast—where the five of you consumed one cup of coffee and half a slice of tiramisu in total—you executed the first step of your plan and sent a text message to Sid. It was innocuous, just a conversational, “are you ever going to stop doing this?” but it was meant to serve as a subtle precursor—so as not to approach him out of the blue tomorrow.

Then, as the five of you exited the restaurant, Maggie got enthralled by the most gracious little corgi sitting at a table, and dragged Luna and Minjun (who looked like he was not sure what was happening) back inside to ask for pictures. You and Jungkook opted for a scenic route back to the hotel instead.

Although the day was overcast, the sky did not look particularly ominous, offering instead an unexpected serenity that you thought you could use to clear your thoughts.

Interestingly, fresh air was not what you really needed at all. It was his hand holding yours as you strolled past extravagant hotels and expensive restaurants near Hyde Park, weaving through crowds of rushing tourists and cranky locals.

You felt significantly lighter with your hand in his, but Jungkook still appeared troubled. The shadows on his face were far more pronounced than those in the sky.

“What’s on your mind?” you asked.

He let out a weary sigh as he met your gaze. He seemed overwhelmed—as though his head was trying very hard to grow twice as large to contain all his thoughts, while the rest of his body fought desperately to resist the growth.

“I—well, I didn’t want to say this in front of everyone,” he started slowly, “but I’m worried about you.”

“Me?” You frowned. “Wh—because of Sid?”

“Because you’re doing all of this on top of your other responsibilities,” he said. “I don’t want you to burn out.”

Your expression visibly softened, but dark edges of guilt still coated the appreciation in your eyes. You felt disappointed in yourself—for letting it get so far that, over a week later, Jungkook still sometimes looked at you as though you might faint any second.

“That won’t happen,” you replied, your tone gentle, but determined. “I promise. And I’m not alone. I have so much help. And this won’t—it’s just a few days. We deal with it tomorrow, and it’s over.”

“Okay. But what if it’s not?” he questioned then. “We’re heading to Paris right after we, potentially, deal with Sid. And what if it doesn’t work, and we’re not here to fix it?”

You had to admit, this same possibility had been weighing on your mind ever since Jude first mentioned the bags of drugs in Sid’s hotel room. However, as soon as you saw Jungkook’s solemn features, you found yourself resisting all these worries. You would figure it out, no matter what happened, just so he wouldn’t have to worry about it anymore.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Then it won’t work.”

“He’ll be furious,” Jungkook said. “Even more vindictive than before.”

“I know,” you replied. “But no matter what he decides to do, we won’t back down, either.”

Jungkook frowned so deeply that several new wrinkles declared permanent residence between his brows. He dreaded the idea of spending a lifetime seeking revenge.

You sensed the reason for his apprehension—you wanted this over quickly, too—and instinctively squeezed his hand.

“I’m with you,” you said, reaching for your phone to check if Sid had reacted to your text. “And I told you, I’m not entirely convinced that this will work, either. I mean, here, look. Sid hasn’t replied. But if this plan falls through, we’ll come up with something else. Maybe something—well, less grand.”

He glanced at your phone, toying with his lip ring between his teeth. The prospect of failure felt more daunting with each second that Sid remained free to do whatever he pleased.

Jungkook didn’t want to do something else. He wanted this to work.

“Maybe he hasn’t replied because Jude deleted everything,” he suggested, searching for a plausible explanation that aligned with your plan. “Including the texts.”

“No, that’s tomorrow,” you reminded him. He groaned. “We need—Sid needs to notice my texts first. Then we delete them. I’ll use a disposable SIM card tomorrow, so there’s no trace that I ever contacted him.”

Jungkook felt like his head had already grown far too large for his body. He was a bit unsteady on his feet and clutched your hand tighter.

“Right,” he said. “Okay. That—yeah, no.” He lifted your intertwined hands to scratch something at his forehead. “My head is spinning. I can’t remember that much.”

You gave him a sympathetic nod. “That’s fine.”

“I’m not saying that I’d be too dumb to follow a plan like this,” he felt the need to insist.

“I didn’t think that.”

“I’m just saying,” he continued. “There’s a lot.”

You nodded in exaggerated agreement again. “Mhmm.”

His eagerness to prove his intelligence to you was very endearing. But it was a little funny, too, and Jungkook stopped walking to study your expression more closely. After a moment, he came to an appalling conclusion.

“You think I’m dumb,” he said.

A wide smile finally broke out on your face. “I think you’re very pretty.”

“Very pr—okay.” His expression shifted as you laughed, pulling on his hand to continue walking after an elderly couple gave you a rather well-deserved disapproving look for blocking their path. “Pretty and dumb. Is that your type?”

“It is,” you said, grinning. “That’s why you’re the only boyfriend I’ve had.”

He raised his eyebrows and scoffed. “Oh—wow. Wow. I am both very flattered and very offended.”

You chuckled, gently pushing his shoulder with yours. Jungkook shook his head and finally smiled, too. But right as he prepared to say something else, he ended up having to quickly yank your hand, pulling you into him and out of the way of an oncoming bicycle.

“Shit,” you were breathless against his chest as the bike drove past, your hair whipping forcefully in the wind, “thank you.”

“Pretty and dumb,” he said, allowing you to take a step away from him now that the danger has passed, “but with great reflexes, huh?”

You laughed again, leaning into him when you did and successfully dissolving everything sharp and uncomfortable in his chest.

“I know you’re not dumb,” you said. “And let’s be realistic: Minjun and I had been simmering in the details of this plan for days. You just barely learned about it a few hours ago. We’ve got this. I wanted you to know what we’ll do, but I don’t want you to be involved at all.”

“Yeah. I—no, I just…” he faltered, weighing his next words. The thought of everything that would happen tomorrow made his stomach feel very heavy. “I feel like you’re trying to protect me from Sid by keeping me out of this, and I’m—I don’t know how that makes me feel.”

“We’re not just keeping you out, we’re keeping the whole band out,” you said. “I want to protect all four of you. And if anything, you’re the only member who isn’t entirely excluded. Does that… make it any better?”

Jungkook considered this for a moment.

“Not sure,” he said. “Because I’m still not participating.”

Exhaling softly, you looked around, searching for a quiet spot on the pavement where the two of you could step away from the crowd. Nearby, there were two traditional phone booths that tourists were gathered around, obstructing your view. Once you passed them, you noticed a parking meter right by the park gate that everyone seemed to avoid. You decided to pause there.

Jungkook glanced around before stopping in front of you, slightly unsettled by the large, dark green hedge covering the park fence, and all the bugs that emerged from it—bees, mostly. They all seemed very curious about him.

“Okay, look at it this way,” you began. “Sid has known you and Minjun since you were kids. He knows all your weak points. He can predict exactly how you and Minjun will react in any situation. Sure, you took him off guard when you gave up your Katana, but he can still read you very well. He doesn’t have that luxury with me, Luna, or Maggie. He’s less certain about our reactions. Who else could do this if not us?”

“Right,” Jungkook murmured. “But you’re still going out of your way for me, and I feel—”

“And why wouldn’t I?” you interrupted. “I love you.”

He thought he died for just a second and it felt surprisingly nice: he could feel something soft and warm against his skin—the phantom shivers of every time you’ve touched him before—and he could taste a sweet, lingering flavour on his tongue—from every time he felt your mouth against his own.

He would never tire of hearing you say you loved him. The only downside was that his chest usually attempted to collapse in on itself right after that, leaving him speechless for anywhere from a minute to several days.

“Not to mention,” you continued while Jungkook fought against the haze in his mind and the bumblebees around his neck. “Sid has long stopped at just you. With the videos and pictures he’s sending you, he’s threatening everyone on this tour. Anything that affects your reputation, affects the band and the staff, too. So, when you look at it like that, we’re really doing this for everyone.”

Finally, Jungkook managed to stop his thoughts from pulling him in every direction and anchored himself to this pavement right here—with you, and the persistent bugs, and the chattering of people as they walked past you.

He squeezed your hand that he had not let go—not now, and probably not ever, really—and exhaled.

“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “But I was the one who brought him here, and that’s—I guess that’s what’s bothering me right now.”

“You did bring him here,” you agreed.

“I—oh.” He looked up, his eyebrows knitting together. He had expected something else. An ‘I told you that was a shit decision’ or a sarcastic ‘yeah, and thanks for that’—but your kind expression did not change. “Y-yeah. I did.”

“But we’ll get him out,” you said.

Jungkook held your hand and observed you, trying to process this while simultaneously trying to figure out what was it about him that attracted these British bees to him so much. It couldn’t be his cologne, because you loved him far more than he’d allowed himself to believe. It couldn’t be his clothes, either, because you were looking at him like you believed anything was possible in this world, and he thought it really was.

He realised that to you, he must have appeared as if he were struggling to interpret prehistoric cave wall paintings, and this process was causing him immense pain. He cleared his throat.

“You don’t blame me?” he asked.

“For making a stupid decision?” you replied, and shrugged your shoulders after he nodded. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

He pressed his lips together, his expression a mixture of incredulity and pure delight.

“Okay,” he said. “Sure.”

You were smiling again, and he was a little too proud to admit how much your loving eyes and your great mood soothed his anxiety.

“And what would I gain from punishing you?” you added. “You’ve already seen through Sid. You’ve had enough. You learned your lesson. You’re good.”

Jungkook felt his chest swell as though he’d swallowed the swarms of bees around him, and now they’ve built a cosy little home right on the hills of his heart.

“You think so?” he asked, his eyes glistening.

“Why do you look so excited?” you countered. “Do you have more dickhead friends I haven’t met yet?”

He chuckled, waving his hand around his face. “Can I answer that inside the park? I’m afraid these bees are in love with me.”

You had already noticed his struggle with the bees—it was hard not to, one was perched right on his shoulder—and you found your own apparent immunity to this new bee predicament especially entertaining.

“Want me to fight them for you?” you suggested.

“Oh, in a battle of who loves me more?” he quipped, swatting vigorously at three stubborn bees that were particularly intrigued in his eyes.

“Yeah,” you said. “We’ll all sting you at the same time, and whoever dies first, wins.”

He snorted. “These are bumblebees. They don’t die after they sting.”

“Oh, so maybe we should just stay here,” you teased. “You all seem to know quite a bit about each other already.”

He squinted at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Are you jealous I’ve grown so close to these bees?”

“Of course. They’re all over you.”

“I’d rather have you all over—”

“Public park!” you interjected hastily, cutting him off.

His laughter in response was unapologetic and infectious—you found yourself shaking your head to suppress a treacherous smile.

“Did you also research public indecency laws?” he asked, turning past the menacing, bee-infested hedge.

You followed him through the gates into the park, your fingers intertwined with his. The clouds above had thickened, and the wind had picked up, but there was nothing about this afternoon that Jungkook did not enjoy.

“Actually, I did,” you replied. “Because of that stunt you pulled in New York last year.”

Recognition flashed in his eyes for just a fleeting moment before he pursed his lips, distancing himself from the memory. A gentle breeze swept through the park, rustling leaves and carrying the scent of damp earth; it would rain soon.

“I don’t remember,” he declared.

“Really?” you responded wryly. You both knew very well that he remembered. “Nothing familiar to you about the busking that turned into half-naked dancing in the middle of the street?”

“Nope,” he said. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”

“There was a lot more grinding than actual dancing, now that I think about it,” you pressed on. You noticed, through your peripherals, the way he scrunched his nose and furrowed his brows, evidently despising the memory he claimed he did not have. “Someone had drawn a crown of thorns on your forehead. You had a—sort of a cloth wrapped around your waist, and nothing else. Almost everyone on the face of the earth accused you of being in a sex cult after those pictures came out.”

“I don’t know anything about that,” he insisted. “They must have confused me with someone else.”

“Sure. They must have,” you relented, pouting your lips in mock-sympathy. “There are plenty of people in sex cults out there.”

“Exactly,” he replied, finally meeting your eyes.

Something about you bringing up this incident—“incidents” were a prominent category of his actions in his mind—reminded him of the videos Sid had sent him. However, with you, the feelings in his chest were vastly different.

You were playful. Lighthearted. Your love language was teasing the hell out of him.

Sid was venomous. Arrogant. Vile. His intentions were humiliation and destruction.

You were joking about a matter for which Jungkook undoubtedly owed you another apology. He could tell that you knew he would apologise eventually, but you were hoping—with every jest, every tender smile, every affectionate bite you sent his way—that he would not plunge himself into self-loathing again.

He wouldn’t. He had matured significantly since the day under discussion. He knew he had, even if it was easy to forget.

“I’m surprised how well you remember all that, actually,” he commented. “Are you secretly into sexual rituals?”

Your scoff returned his smile to his face.

“Oh, absolutely,” you said. “I keep a picture of you from that day on my desk at home. I look at it every night before I fall asleep.”

Jungkook kicked a few dry, scattered leaves on the pavement. When he glanced back at you, his grin bordered on ridiculous.

“I am aware that you’re trying to mock me right now,” he said, “but I feel obligated to inform you that I’m taking absolutely everything you say as a compliment.”

You nodded sagely. “I would expect nothing less from you.”

“Good,” he replied. “Please tell me more about how you look at pictures of me before you fall asleep every night.”

You tsked reproachfully at his grin.

“I take back what I said about you being smart,” you said. “You are the biggest idiot I’ve met.”

“Oh,” his face was jubilant, “but that just means you love me that much more, right?”

You let out a deep sigh. “I’m afraid so.”

He felt the swarms of bees in his chest, and they were buzzing incessantly—eager, restless, and yearning. They took every emotion he felt and spread them across his skin.

“I knew it,” he said, delighted by the look on your face. You were so captivating when you were trying to resist smiling; it was why he never stopped teasing you. “This must be awful for you.”

“Mmhm. It is,” you said. “You’re like a disease.”

He nodded, attempting a formal tone. “How bad is it?”

“Chronic and untreatable, I’m afraid.”

“Oh, I am so sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, thank you.”

A deep, vibrant laughter finally erupted from his chest, and he stopped walking. Tugging on your linked hands, he drew you closer and wrapped his arms around your waist before you could say another word.

“I love you so much, you know that?” he whispered, his voice low against your neck. “It’s not even funny how much.”

He rocked gently on his feet with you in his arms, and you could not tell if the vibrations you felt came from his chest or yours.

“More than the bees love you?” you asked, your hands sliding over his shoulders.

“Much more than the bees love me.”

“Oh, must be quite a lot, then.”

“It is,” he said, chuckling hopelessly. “It really fucking is.”

He tightened his already firm grip until he felt your deep exhale against the side of his neck. He held you and his heartbeat chased after yours while the bustling crowds, the rustling leaves, and the solemn park benches whispered incomprehensibly around you, their frustration about your public affection lost on you.

When he pulled away a minute—or ten—later, he realised that his cologne had brushed off on you. There was something wildly intoxicating about you smelling exactly like him, and he needed a minute to make the park stop spinning.

“I, um—” he started to say, but his voice broke. He cleared his throat, took your hand in his to continue down the park, and tried again. “Jokes aside, I feel—I really appreciate what you do for me. What you’re doing to fix my shit right now, and what you—what you’ve always done to fix my shit. I don’t say that enough. Thank you. For taking care of Sid, too.”

You shook your head. You knew you couldn’t tackle Sid alone—probably no one could.

“This is a team effort,” you replied. “If this works, you can bake us all a cake later.”

Jungkook no longer had even half of a doubt that this would work, one way or the other. And if he’d stayed with you longer, he would have easily started to believe that Rated Riot would be elected presidents, too—one after the other.

“I’m not much of a baker,” he said.

“I’ll help,” you offered.

“Your help,” he responded, his smile turning mischievous, “usually consists of walking around, eating chocolate sprinkles, and distracting me.”

It was your turn to look offended.

“I’m the only one who remembers how many eggs the recipe needs,” you retorted, dignified. “How do I distract you?”

“How can I remember the eggs when you’re dancing and singing around me?” he countered.

He noticed the way your chin quivered as you fought to maintain a serious expression.

“Well, that’s on you,” you said. “Any skilled chef knows to keep their staff busy so they wouldn’t have time to sing and dance. Also, don’t play good songs when we’re in the kitchen.”

“Alright, we’ll bake in silence,” he decided. “And you’ll do everything while I sit and order you around.”

The corners of your lips finally curled into a smirk.

“That’s interesting,” you said, your thumb lightly brushing over his as he swayed your hands. “Switching up the dynamics.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, very intrigued by the insinuation in your words. “You want me to order you around?”

“I mean…” You shrugged. “I’d like to see you try.”

He stopped walking suddenly, right in the midst of a group of senior ladies, forcing a few of them to gasp and walk around him with very exaggerated expressions of disbelief as though they’d never felt more wronged (there were a few obligatory comments about “kids these days,” too, of course).

Jungkook, undeterred, took a step to the right until he was standing in front of you.

“Kiss me,” he said.

The demand in his tone caught you off guard, but you tried to blink away your surprise. “I didn’t mean right now—”

“Kiss me,” he repeated more assertively.

You felt your stomach lighten and go for a little float inside you, like a loose helium-filled balloon.

“We are in the middle of a busy park,” you said, looking around. “We’re blocking—”

“Kiss me,” he interrupted again, his voice firm but lively, “or I won’t move.”

You poked the inside of your cheek with your tongue, torn between amusement and apprehension as you battled his self-assured grin, while passersby shot disapproving glances at the two of you.

“See, there’s ordering people around,” you said, “and there’s acting like a three-year-old.”

He simply shrugged, relentless. “I see no difference.”

“Do I sound like a toddler when I tell you to do things?”

“Sometimes.”

His satisfied grin only gained prominence when you scoffed and looked away, rolling your eyes.

You questioned, sometimes, how you managed to put up with him for so long. But then you also questioned, much more often, how you’d survived without him at all.

“If I were a teacher,” you said, “you’d be in detention for disrupting everyone’s day.”

“Oh! And what would I have to do?” he teased, mischief gleaming proudly in his eyes. “Write an essay on the importance of respecting authority?”

“That might do you good, actually,” you retorted. “Maybe you should consider writing it anyway.”

He shrugged his shoulders and cocked his head to the side. “Kiss me and I’ll do it.”

He looked so utterly unfazed that you did feel very compelled to lay your hands on him and do something.

He might have been one of the most exasperating people you’ve met in your life, always ready to say something cheeky no matter what you told him, always causing trouble wherever he went, never letting you breathe in peace for just one second.

You were outrageously grateful to have found him.

“People are staring at us,” you said, but there was no conviction in your voice. “We look like idiots.”

Jungkook admired your cautiousness, but he wanted you to let go of it. People would always stare; he just wanted you to kiss him.

“They’re staring because you’re defying authority,” he countered easily.

“Jungkook, just—”

“Oh, see?” he cut in, his tone triumphant. “Maybe you should be the one to write that essay.”

You groaned very demonstratively, but he saw the corners of your lips lift. Finally, you took a small step towards him and pressed your lips to his in a quick peck. He pulled you into him just as you attempted to pull away, and kissed you properly.

At last, the crowds disappeared, allowing you to dissolve in the warmth of his lips and come back to life with all the shivers that ran down your spine when he touched the back of your neck. You felt his smile and felt your own, too, when he brought his tongue over yours, deepening the kiss.

“You are insufferable,” you managed to mumble between kisses, and the affection in your voice was impossible to mistake for something else.

“I love you,” he whispered in response, each word sweet and sugary against your lips.

You kissed him once more—to soothe your racing heart—and then once more again—to soothe his—before you pulled away, whispering back, “I love you.”

Jungkook only managed half of a pleased “I—” before he felt a few soft, cold droplets land on his forehead and both of his cheeks. He raised his head.

“Is it me, or is it—”

“Yeah,” you confirmed, looking up at the angry clouds. “It’s raining.”

“Do you—should we go inside?” he asked, looking around.

There was no specific “inside” anywhere close to the two of you, but you looked at him again and spotted something at the very edge of the park behind him, right across a busy bike lane.

“There’s a little gazebo over there,” you suggested, pointing.

Jungkook turned around and seemed to have an epiphany when he noticed the crooked structure.

“In the—in the park,” he mumbled to himself, feeling a little weak in the knees. He took your hand in his again. “Let’s go.”

He led you straight into the bicycle traffic as he crossed the road, causing a commotion and undoubtedly endangering everyone’s lives—and not even realising it in his eagerness to get to the gazebo. You attempted to raise your hand in apology to the cyclists, but quickly realised that the smile on your face likely made the gesture seem mocking.

It occurred to you that you and Jungkook were being very disruptive today, very annoying, very much in everyone’s faces about your relationship. And you realised, as he pulled you past the groups of people running from the rain, that you did not actually mind this all that much. Or at all.

There was a certain beauty in the unapologetic way that people in love behaved in public—grinning at their phones, kissing at bus stops, holding hands on narrow streets barely wide enough for one person. Running across the park in the rain and stumbling into every puddle possible.

When you and Jungkook finally reached the gazebo, you were both drenched and breathless. And you realised, belatedly, that it was not a suitable shelter at all: there were no railings or benches, the roof was not only crooked, but obviously decaying, and the rain splattered you if you got too close to the edge.

But you’d been here before: caught in the rain on your way to the restaurant for your first date seven years ago, seeking refuge under a much sturdier roof of a similar gazebo in an empty park, while the vividly green trees—almost a rarity so late in September—whispered wearily from the heavy rain on their leaves.

You’d been here before, and you did not want to go anywhere else.

“I’m starting to think,” you began, “that there’s something about us that attracts rain.”

Jungkook was thinking this very thought and laughed so heartily that the rain stopped for just a second, shamed into silence by a sound far more charming than the eager pitter-patter against the roof.

“You think we could make some money out of it?” he joked, his eyes energetic. “Maybe add a little performance to it? Rain dance?”

“We might have accidentally performed one already,” you said, stepping closer to the edge of the gazebo to watch the raindrops splash against the damp ground.

“You’re right,” he agreed, taking your hand in his and guiding you to face him. “Let me see.”

He brought your hand to his chest and you watched, puzzled, as he closed his eyes and pretended to concentrate very hard on the sounds around him. People across the street screeched as they ran from the rain. A stubborn gull was screeching in the exact same way somewhere overhead.

Jungkook clutched your hand tighter and hummed. He was joking, clearly putting up a show, but you heard the faint sound of distant thunder, and the joy on his face turned luminous.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed as you laughed, and the rain, encouraged by your approval, began to pour even harder.

You watched him revel in this delightful coincidence—or an elusive sign—and allowed his radiant smile to bring back the memories that you had locked away in a box you didn’t dare touch unless you were half-asleep.

It had been raining on your first date seven years ago, but it had also been raining when he suggested that date. You’d felt invincible then, the only one staying dry in the whole world, as you nearly sprinted home from the party where he’d asked you out. You stumbled over the threshold of your dorm room, your shoes wet and slippery, and landed on your knees, shouting the news to your roommate, who was startled out of bed by your loud entrance.

This was the beginning of the happiness you’d felt almost every day since then. But this happiness came with a price: you would come to class and you could not rest, could not find it in yourself to calm down, until Jungkook arrived and took his usual seat behind you. You wouldn’t even have to look, you’d always know he had come because you’d feel a sudden sense of peace—and then you’d lock eyes with him across the room.

For years after this, even today, when you tried to find a period of your life where you’d felt the happiest, these were the moments that your mind returned to.

“What are you thinking?” Jungkook asked, brushing a damp strand of hair from your cheek and bringing your focus back to the rainy moment with his touch.

“It—it’s been seven years and now we’re back in the rain,” you replied, distracted by the lingering echo of the years that have passed outside this gazebo. “Nothing’s changed.”

A faint smile danced on his lips.

“Yeah. Nothing important has,” he agreed. “I still love you.”

You met his gaze, a little thrown off. “W-what do you mean, still? That was our first date seven years ago.”

“Yeah,” he said, raising his eyebrows at the confusion on your face. “Oh, did you think I asked you out right after I saw you? No, no. I spent a whole year absolutely fucking pining after you before I finally mustered the courage to ask you out.”

You assumed he might have liked you a little, based on the way he’d introduced himself to you. But you obviously didn’t know about his alleged year-long pining that preceded your first date. And you weren’t sure if you wanted to believe him, given your own year-long pining. It made little sense for the two of you to like each other for so long and not do anything about it.

On the other hand, considering the past few years, perhaps it made perfect sense.

Your heartbeat had sped up, so you argued childishly, “no, you didn’t.”

“I did. Ask anyone,” he said, grinning. He wasn’t as embarrassed about this as he used to be—and your surprise made it easier for him to admit everything. “I never knew how to love you quietly. But it still took me ages to talk to you even with everyone’s encouragement. And that, uh—our first conversation didn’t go very well.”

“Wait—what do you mean? It went very well,” you disagreed. “I remember everything you said word for word. ‘We have Sociology together, I saw you sleeping in class, very cute by the way, the professor does not know how to shut up, have you seen that new Studio Ghibli film, I recently watched their classic with some friends, My Neighbour Jungkook, I’m Totoro by the way, I thought maybe—wait—no—’”

He interrupted you once your smile had grown dangerously wide. “Don’t you dare make fun of me.”

“I would never!” you said through laughter. “I think I knew I was in it for life the moment you said all that.”

He had to look down because the bees inside him had multiplied, spreading rapidly to his head and his lungs and his stomach, and he was a little concerned that he’d start buzzing, too.

“Not one period, nothing,” you continued, a melancholic haze in your eyes. “Just commas and an endless stream of thought. You could have asked me to bury a body, I would have said yes.”

He smiled, but everything inside of him was turning upside down, returning to normal, then turning downside up.

Every time he remembered how he approached you seven years ago, he either felt a little uncomfortable or completely mortified. He’d never thought you’d remember that day so well and with such fondness.

“By the way,” you added when he did not speak, “you did look a little like you were about to confess to accidentally murdering my roommate when you started to speak.”

This finally made him chuckle, and he felt his skin thaw from the frozen state of amazement. He remembered hoping that you’d forget all about what he’d said that day. Now he realised he had never felt more thrilled that you remembered.

“I know,” he said. “I was shaking.”

“Yeah. I, um—” you trailed off, needing another minute. “I had a crush on you, too, actually. For a long while.”

His smile faded, replaced by a look of criminal disbelief. “You did not.”

You recognised your own suspicion in his words and smiled. However, unlike Jungkook, who owned up to his stressful pining and memorable first impression, you did not feel ready to confess to your silent sulking quite as easily.

“I did,” you said. “But you turned away every time I looked at you on campus, so I thought, oh, okay. That guy hates me for some reason. Nevermind.”

“I didn—I never—”

“I actually made a playlist before we met,” you added quickly before you could change your mind. “And I, uh, kept updating it throughout our relationship.”

You did not look at him when you said this, so you missed the befuddled look on his face.

“A pl—you made a playlist?” he repeated, his thoughts momentarily derailed. He couldn’t even hear the rain anymore. “And you never told me?”

“And I will continue to act like you don’t know about it,” you said.

He was too ecstatic to care. He hadn’t dared to imagine that he would have such a strong presence in your thoughts that you would create a playlist about him—for him? (he thought he might faint)—before you even met.

“No, b-but I’m supposed to be the one making grand gestures in our relationship, and you have a playlist about me? Ab-about us?” he questioned, almost frantic. “Is it—well, what songs are in it? About our relationship?”

You tried to put your words together, your slow, calculated breaths a stark contrast against his passionate energy. Another clap of thunder, unusually intense, rumbled in the sky.

“Sort of,” you finally answered. You thought that a playlist did not come anywhere close to everything he’d done and attempted to do for you, but you still struggled to articulate yourself. “Or songs that we both liked. Songs that we listened to together. Songs that we discovered on roadtrips—just, uh, stuff like that.”

He shook his head, every part of his skin itching with an unfathomable urge to hear these songs.

“You have to let me listen to it,” he stated.

“No,” you said, giving a determined shake of your head. “It’s enough that you know it exists.”

“I will absolutely never shut up about this,” he retorted, gesturing with his hands to emphasise his commitment to being annoying, “and I might end up telling more people.”

“I will kill you if I have to,” you warned.

“So I will haunt you, then,” he returned. “Is it on Spotify?”

You narrowed your eyes. “It’s private.”

“I am not above pulling a Sid and stealing your phone,” he said, resolute.

You snorted despite yourself.

“Okay. Fine,” you said. “Maybe I’ll give you the link after.”

Jungkook waited for further clarification, but you decided you’d said enough.

He was confused. He no longer had any clear delineations of time in his life—ever since he found you again, his whole life had shifted to “after.”

“After—after Sid?” he asked.

“After everything,” you replied, unintentionally ominous as your gaze wandered to the fragmented reflections of the clouds on the rain-soaked pavement. “After we leave London. After we deal with the label. After it stops fucking raining every time we go out together.”

Jungkook thought he could already see these things: the Parisian streets after you’ve left Sid in London, the peace after you’ve told the label about your relationship, the sun in the sky after the rain lost its courage to threaten you again.

“Okay,” he relented, his features softening. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Your lips curved into a gentle smile. “I know you will.”

He hummed, stepping on a loose floorboard with the edge of his boot.

“Now, then,” he said, “tell me about this crush you supposedly had on me.”

“It was a crush,” you insisted, your voice growing more fervent right away.

Jungkook smiled but tried to remain collected. He had decided it was better for his sanity not to believe you.

“I liked you ever since I saw you at that first freshman party,” you continued and he realised that he was absolutely, without a doubt not collected at all. “I spent that entire night scrolling through the list of people invited to this event on Facebook until I found your profile. But I didn’t dare to send you a friend request, because—well, you know. We hadn’t talked or anything. I thought maybe you’re not interested.”

He thought his heart might stop because this freshman event was where he first saw you—and for every waking and sleeping moment since then, he had been interested.

“I noticed you around campus after that,” you continued. “And I would have talked to you first, I think. If you hadn’t looked like you dreamed of my violent death every time you met my eye.”

He groaned, rubbing his eyes with the pillows of his palms.

“Well, obviously, I liked you too much to look at you and not glare,” he said, even though none of that was obvious. “I actually thought I developed some sort of an allergy right when I first saw you.”

You raised your eyebrows. “An allergy?”

“Yeah. Shortness of breath, just feeling hot all over, sweating profusely,” he elaborated, moving his hands away from his face to reveal his faint, nostalgic smile. “That had never happened to me before. It was either the dust in the room or you. And there wasn’t a lot of dust.”

You pursed your lips before your cheeks could stretch any further.

“I don’t know,” you teased, “they don’t clean the building that well.”

“It was you,” he stated firmly. “Got my breath catching in my throat. Gave me butterflies, made my heart race—made me feel all the things that people write embarrassing bubblegum pop songs about.”

You looked down to collect yourself before all the signals that your heart was sending to your brain could reflect on your face.

“Catchy songs, though,” you murmured.

“Catchy, sure,” he agreed, his tone wistful. “Until all those things they sing about happen to you, and you feel like you’re drowning.”

You felt a little like you might drown just now as your heart pounded in your chest, angry at you for another wasted year.

“I’m really happy we finally ended up together,” he said. “Seven years ago, and today.”

You finally looked up at him and remembered all the times when you used to worry that you had already lived through your happiest moments, and any little joy you’d come across later would pale in comparison. You knew better now.

Jungkook was your happiest moment, and he was right here. He’d always been right here.

“I love you,” you said, a little suffocated by the overwhelming warmth in your chest. “I’ve loved you every day for all these years.”

He was smiling so widely that his lip ring dug into his stretched lips. He reached out to caress your cheek, resting his palm on the side of your face for a moment, his eyes bright and glittering.

He kissed you slowly, his bottom lip lingering between your lips while the rain washed the noise of the city away. He tasted love and longing on your tongue, and he had never in his life wished for the sunshine to stay away longer.

The rain listened. It had become a fundamental part of your present and a prophet of your future: the two of you were going to spend the rest of your lives listening to the rain and falling in love.

Since Rated Riot had a day off and the other members let you know where they were by bickering continuously in the groupchat, you and Jungkook locked yourselves in his hotel room when you returned.

You changed into dry clothes first, and then noticed that Sid still hadn’t replied to your text. In case he really hadn’t received it, you sent another one—with just question marks—hoping that he��d interpret your repeated messages as a sign of your desperation to talk to him.

You put your phone away and climbed back into bed. The sun had already set outside the window, casting faint, elongated shadows around you in the room. You and Jungkook listened to the music playing on his phone and returned to the snacks he had bought for your film night a few days earlier.

As the song switched to the latest Bad Omens collaboration, you closed your eyes to nod along, and he reached over to snatch a chocolate-covered cherry bonbon from you, causing a spark of static electricity to pass between you.

“Sorry,” he said, chuckling after he heard you gasp. “It’s from the bees, I think. They must have somehow electrified me.”

“Yeah, that’s definitely something that bees can do,” you played along, sitting up on the bed and unwrapping another candy for him. “Maybe you should take an ice bath to avoid these after-effects.”

He accepted the candy with a grin. “No. I like shocking you when I touch you.”

To be fair, he didn’t need bees or electricity for that—but you decided not to point that out.

You realised how much peace you felt here: listening to music and eating sweets with him across the bed from you. You didn’t think there was anything you still needed in life. Watching him close his eyes as the chocolate melted on his tongue, and hearing him hum with childlike delight as he swallowed, filled an emptiness inside of you that nothing—no trips abroad, no late-night drinks, no shopping sessions—could have filled.

This random moment in his hotel room was nothing at all, yet it was everything.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed, startling you both.

“Sid?” Jungkook asked eagerly, letting the remaining chocolate melt slowly on his fingers while you reached for your phone.

“No,” you replied, checking the screen. “It’s Maggie. She just posted the backstage pictures with our list.”

His expression tightened. “Oh.”

“There’s nothing from Sid,” you added.

Jungkook finally popped the rest of the candy into his mouth. He decided—quite abruptly—that he’s had enough discussions about Sid and everything you’ve been through because of him.

“You know what we should do?” he asked, licking the remnants of the chocolate off his fingers. “We should go to the sea after the tour ends.”

“Oh—we—yeah?” you asked, stumbling over your words. You thought it was very unfair of him to ask you this while running his tongue over his fingers all in the same breath. “We—but we don’t know when that’ll be.”

“Whenever,” he said with a shrug. “Let’s go.”

It took you half of a second to say “okay,” and he didn’t think he’d ever learn how to stop his heart from soaring every time your agreement came so quickly, so easily.

To be honest, you didn’t know why he even asked. It was fairly clear that there weren’t many instances where you would have refused him.

However, your response still painted his features with every warm hue in existence, and he settled back on the bed, resting his head on the pillows and closing his eyes. As you watched him, you were forced to acknowledge one more time that witnessing him like this should have required an admission ticket—and a sign reading, “do not touch the exhibit.”

“I feel like I have everything,” he said, unknowingly echoing every sentiment you felt. “I don’t even care if Sid replies to you and if our plan works.”

You leaned against the pillows on the other side of the bed and turned to your side to face him. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” he replied, a melodious hum in his tone. He opened his eyes to meet yours and placed his hand on the pillow beneath his head. “We’re—you’re here with me. The tour is going well, it’s—that’s it. That’s my whole dream.”

He looked beautiful in an almost devastating way. He looked like every extravagant adjective that sounded made-up when you encountered it in writing for the first time: transfixing. Beguiling. Effulgent. Pulchritudinous.

You really wanted to touch the exhibit.

“Do you know how we formed Rated Riot?” he asked suddenly, distracting you.

You raised your eyebrows, then turned your gaze away. Jungkook realised you probably didn’t understand where his question had come from, but you didn’t ask him anything, so he did not explain.

Truthfully, you did not know the complete story behind how Rated Riot got together. You only knew what each of the boys was doing when they first met.

“I don’t know much,” you admitted. “I know that Hoseok kicked things off.”

“Yeah.” Jungkook nodded, then stopped. “Or maybe Namjoon, actually? Because Namjoon saw Hoseok at some gig that he went to. When he asked about his band, Hoseok gave him, like, fifteen business cards. But even though he filled in for all these bands, it was still only maybe one gig per week. That’s nothing. So, Namjoon told him he’s too talented for that shit. He said he needed his own band.”

You recalled Yoongi mentioning that Namjoon was the first producer that Rated Riot have worked with, but you hadn’t realised this was before the band was even formed.

Suddenly, the broken air conditioner in the room whirred back to life, interrupting your thoughts.

“S-so, they started talking,” Jungkook said, momentarily distracted by the loud noise. “Hoseok wanted to be independent, and Namjoon didn’t push him to sign with Jett Records back then. He helped him. Unofficially, I guess. They found Taehyung very randomly at this one after-party for somebody at our label—well, our future label. Namjoon took Hoseok there to network, and Taehyung just happened to be there. No one knows why, but you know Taehyung. He’s always going to be right where he needs to be.”

“Yeah,” you said, nodding knowingly. Taehyung always seemed to find his way to the people and places meant for him.

“Yeah, so he was at that party,” Jungkook continued, “and he overheard Namjoon and Hoseok discussing the plan for Hoseok’s band. They were saying that they needed a bassist first. And Taehyung just chimed in like, “I play bass.” Just out of the blue. Namjoon asked him who he was, and he introduced himself. Namjoon then asked what he was doing here, and Taehyung said, “I’ll tell you if you let me join the band”—which he never did, by the way. We still don’t know what he was doing at that party.”

You chuckled softly. Knowing Taehyung, nothing in this story surprised you, but you were still impressed by how quickly his energy captivated Hoseok and Namjoon.

“So, they let him join?” you asked.

“Namjoon claims he auditioned for them first,” Jungkook said, clicking his lips questioningly. “But one time when Hoseok was very drunk, he admitted that he’d felt desperate. Namjoon was busy and couldn’t help him much, so Hoseok had to figure things out on his own. He said he called and invited Taehyung to join right away. He thought they could find a proper bassist later, and Taehyung could fill the spot for the time being. Funny.”

“Oh,” you said. “Because he hadn’t heard him play yet?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed. “He hadn’t seen Taehyung even holding a bass before. So, he had doubts. I guess I get that. Anyway. He invited Namjoon to their first rehearsal and Taehyung blew Namjoon the fuck away. That’s it. Hoseok said that after that, he was worried Namjoon would sign Taehyung and leave him behind. Not that Namjoon would do that, but uh—yeah. Taehyung was that good.”

“They’re both that good,” you said. “Hoseok never acknowledges his own talent.”

“Right?” he nodded eagerly, turning to his side to look at you. There was a warm smile on your lips that Jungkook really enjoyed. “They’re both amazing.”

“So, how do you come into the picture?” you asked.

He took a breath before answering.

“I saw Hoseok and Taehyung playing at this dive bar that Sid dragged me to,” he said.

Your eyebrows arched in surprise. “No shit?”

“Yeah,” he said, running his tongue over his lips. “He said I was annoying and mopey, so he kept taking me to a new place every night. There were hardly any people at this bar that night. Taehyung was singing, but he sang, like, one verse, and then they launched into the longest instrumental break I’ve ever fucking heard. And it was incredible. Shit, I—I’m more into vocal music. But seeing Hoseok and Taehyung play together—there was another guitarist with them, actually, I don’t even know who it was—anyway. It made me realise how powerful instrumental music can be on its own.”

A dreamy fog had descended upon his face, and only now did you realise that the air conditioner had stopped working again, seemingly calling it a day. You appreciated the silence and the way Jungkook looked when he played back the memories in his head, his eyes shimmering with the bright lights and the sounds of the bar that night.

“I didn’t know that Sid met the other members before you joined the band,” you said.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied. “He also said he could be a better bassist than ‘that guy.’”

“He—of course,” you groaned. “Wait until Luna hears this. She’ll take care of Sid for us on Taehyung’s behalf, I think.”

He nodded, snickering. “I bet. But Sid actually left the bar before they finished their set. I stayed back. After they wrapped up, I went up to Hoseok at the bar and told him how much I enjoyed their performance. Told him I was thinking of picking up drums—”

He paused abruptly, noticing your surprise before you remembered him mentioning this to you.

“Oh, was this when you and Sid were planning to start your own band?” you asked. You had assumed they were joking.

“Yeah,” he replied, snickering. He had been joking, but he still found drummers to be effortlessly cool. “So, Hoseok delivered the longest fucking speech about what his job was like. Don’t ask him about it, by the way, or you’ll have to sit through three hours of him making drum sounds. But anyway, I was pretty drunk by then, and I don’t know, I guess I hummed along to some song that was playing or something.”

You nodded. Jungkook was almost always humming something.

“Then Hoseok said they needed a vocalist for their band,” he continued, “because Taehyung didn’t want to do it. And he noticed me humming, so he jokingly asked if I happened to sing. I said sometimes, nothing serious. Everybody sings sometimes. He told me to sing something for him. I told him to get fucked, we’re in a bar.” Jungkook had to pause here to let you finish laughing. “And Hoseok just shrugged, like, “no one’s at the mic, why not?””

“That did it for you?” you asked.

He nodded. “That fucking did it for me.”

You laughed again, knowing that he would never shy away from anything that resembled a challenge.

“What did you sing?” you asked.

Jungkook gave you a look. There was only one song that always lingered at the back of his mind. You could have guessed it, really, but you were a little frightened about its significance in this context.

“You—you sang Biffy Clyro?” Your throat was dry all of a sudden and useless questions continued to pour out of your dumbfounded chest. “At that bar? In front of Hoseok? “M-Many of Horror?””

“Of course,” Jungkook said, as if there had never been any other song he could have chosen to perform that night, besides the one that followed you and him throughout your relationship. “It—it really fucked with me, though. We had just broken up maybe a month ago, so it was still fresh, you know? And this was my first time singing “Many of Horror” in public, on top of that. And I was—I didn’t do well. I think I missed half the lyrics in the last chorus because it was too much.”

He snickered lightly, trying to lessen the impact of his words. You felt frozen.

“I-I was standing there,” he continued, and you could almost see it, “hiccuping to the I still believe, it’s you and me ‘til the end of time, while Hoseok just watched me, expressionless. And then I drank half the bar right after I got off stage.”

He sang the two lines of the song as he shared the story, his voice quiet and tender, and you thought you must have resembled Hoseok right now—so lost in all the emotions brewing inside you that you did not immediately realise he had stopped speaking, and it might have been appropriate for you to reply.

“Y-you still sounded great, though,” you managed. “Obviously.”

“Yeah, maybe four people clapped. Out of the ten or so at the bar,” he said, chuckling. “Hoseok told me he had to make a call, told me to stay right where I was, and then he disappeared. He returned twenty minutes later with some dishevelled guy in a turtleneck with a little hole in the collar.”

You recognised the description. “Namjoon?”

“Namjoon,” Jungkook confirmed, the smile on his face matching the one hesitantly spreading on yours. “I was fucking wasted. They were saying I had to meet with them for rehearsals, they wanted to see how I’d sound with them. And I’m—I couldn’t fucking think straight. They were telling me they wanted me to join the band, and all I could think about was that you weren’t here.”

The excitement in your eyes quickly turned into pain as a sharp twinge of longing pierced through your chest. It cut into every open crevice of your heart, reminding you of the way it had bled in those first few months after you broke up—even on this particular day, while Jungkook was struggling to get himself together in the face of his future, and you were likely at home, tossing and turning in your bed because you did not know what to do with yourself.

“I wanted to tell you so badly,” Jungkook admitted, his eyes fixed on the bedsheets, his voice filled with incorrigible regret. “But we weren’t talking anymore. I thought—there was this one moment where I thought, well, what’s the point? What’s the use of joining this band if I can’t even tell you about it? A-and they weren’t even a full group when I met them anyway. It took about two more weeks for Yoongi to join.”

You made a conscious effort to swallow the lump in your throat, and shifted your focus to Yoongi to allow for the sudden ache in your chest to subside.

“Yeah, uh—Yoongi mentioned that he was the last to join,” you commented, hoping to steer the conversation back to a less emotionally charged topic. “He used to play for a different band before, right?”

“Yeah. Somnia,” Jungkook said. The name did not sound familiar to you. “They weren’t—um, going anywhere. That’s a very blunt way to put it, but they were just stuck. And Yoongi and Namjoon go way back. So, Namjoon called him one day and lied that he was producing for this new, promising band in need of a permanent guitarist. Said they had a solid rhythm section, but their artistic direction needed some refinement.”

“And, uh,” your voice was a little lighter, “I assume they had a great vocalist, too?”

Jungkook smiled. “They did, yeah. I was trying to be modest, but you brought it up.”

You snickered, offering a nonchalant shrug. “Just trying to help you out.”

“Thanks,” he replied. “Yeah. So, Yoongi was the last one to join. He’d—he has a lot more creative freedom with us than he had with Somnia, which still isn’t a lot. But it’s something. And I think that was the main reason why he left them.”

“And they were okay with him leaving?” you asked.

Jungkook turned on his back and sighed.

“I assume they weren’t,” he said, briefly glancing at the ceiling before turning to look at you. “That’s why he doesn’t talk much about it.”

“Ah.” You nodded. “Makes sense.”

“Yeah, but anyway, Yoongi joined and we were complete,” Jungkook continued. “We released “Haunting” independently. That—okay, that was in June. Some time after that, this radio DJ that Yoongi knew played our song on his radio show as a birthday gift to Yoongi. Namjoon and Christian Jett—”

“CJ, apparently,” you cut in.

“Right. CJ,” he repeated. “They heard the song at some event. Apparently, CJ loved it, so Namjoon told him about us. When CJ found out we weren’t signed to a label, he reached out to us. It took Taehyung and me three days to convince Yoongi and Hoseok to go to that meeting. They both had some shitty experiences with record labels in the past. But we persuaded them to at least show up. CJ had us perform “Haunting” and “Cursed” for him, the only songs we had released at the time, and he signed us on the spot. Well, after Yoongi finished negotiating with him about our contracts.”

Your heart started to race as if you had just realised how much the universe had to align, how many intricate coincidences had to happen to lead Jungkook to his band, and to bring the two of you to this moment in his hotel room.

“We started working on our album,” he went on, “and about four months later—in July, right?—the record started to finally come together. That’s when CJ started to look for a manager for us.”

You took a breath and finished for him, “and reached out to me.”

“Yeah,” he said. “All CJ told us was that he found someone. He mentioned that this person was already working under the label and that the band they managed had recently broken up.”

You did not interrupt the silence that followed, because you thought that Jungkook had paused for a few seconds. But he stopped speaking altogether, waiting for you to share your perspective.

“I-I was, uh, Nick’s assistant at the time,” you said, realising what the silence was for. “We were working with The Jungle Will Get You.” You turned to Jungkook and he shook his head. “Yeah, they were—they weren’t popular. And the members weren’t really motivated, especially towards the end. They split up, eventually. Nick moved on to manage Reconnaissance, and I took on administrative tasks for various bands under the label. It was only for a few months, but I thought I’d end up buried in endless piles of papers. So, when HR called me in to tell me about Rated Riot, I pretended to know exactly who you were to get that job.”

He was smiling next to you on the bed, lost in the memories that did not hurt anymore now that he shared them with you.

“I doubt even HR knew who we were,” he said, gazing up at the ceiling and clasping his hands on his stomach. “I’m just—I’m constantly—I don’t know. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that it was you that they chose for us. I mean, you’re amazing, you could have worked with any band out there. But they picked you for us.”

You grappled with the same impossible coincidence.

“I’m thinking about that, too,” you said. “You had so much potential and CJ... I wasn’t sure if he even saw it when he reached out to me. Not to mention, you and I were—we were broken up for two years at that point?”

“A year and seven months,” Jungkook replied.

“Right,” you said, slightly out of breath from the precision of his answer.

He turned to face you. “Did you ever consider turning down that offer to work with us after you found out I’m in the band?”

You exhaled what little oxygen you had left in your lungs. You’d considered many things when you saw him again that day, and you realised now that you still hadn’t fully grasped all the thoughts that had passed through your mind at the time.

“For maybe half a second,” you said. “I was very confident that we could move on from our relationship.”

He grinned. “Look how well that worked out for us.”

“Mhmm, right?” you agreed, meeting his gaze. “So professional.”

He chuckled, intoxicated by your proximity and the peace he found in the knowledge that the universe had put in a good effort to lead you two here.

“I know that—well, it seems like everything just fell into place to get all of you together for Rated Riot,” you said. “But it wasn’t that easy for you guys, was it?”

“Yeah, no, it definitely wasn’t,” he agreed. “After Yoongi joined, we struggled to write one fucking original song for months. We thought the band was going nowhere.”

You could see the sadness in his eyes. “It was that bad?”

“Yeah. Everything we tried to work on was shit,” he said. “We were getting drunk every night, trying to find something that could work as our first song. And nothing worked.”

“So, what happened?” you asked.

“You,” he answered simply.

Your brows creased. “How—what do you mean?”

“Namjoon pushed us to release something authentic for our debut single,” he began. “And the other guys decided to kick my ass and force me to work. They knew I was writing something, but it—it wasn’t anything serious. Not like what they write. You know I can’t just create shit on the spot. My lyrics have to be about something that I’ve been through. And you’re—you are every single meaningful experience that I have had in my life. The guys—they wanted to use that. So, you’re sort of the main reason why Rated Riot are where they are”

You exhaled slowly, your mind filled with thoughts just like it had been the first time you walked into Rated Riot’s meeting room and saw Jungkook there—looking only slightly different from the music video Luna had shown you before, and remarkably different from your memories.

“And that—this is why I brought this up now,” he said. “It’s all because of you. We broke up, and Sid dragged me to that bar to help me get over you. I sang our song to Hoseok, and he brought Namjoon to convince me to join the band. I wrote “Haunting” about you, and CJ heard it and decided to sign us. We put out several albums, filled with songs I’ve ever written for you, and now we’re on this tour. If it weren’t for you, I just—w-we wouldn’t be here.”

You felt your skin prickle, the sensation quickly turning to a painful sting, and you looked away. Frankly, you did not believe that your influence was this significant—not even after Jungkook had told you that it was. These events seemed like an unbelievable sequence of coincidences that he decided to treat as signs, and you found that you couldn’t breathe if you looked at them as signs, too.

You felt his eyes on you and only meant to glance at him very briefly, but he held your gaze for a few moments longer, watching as a shuddering breath passed your lips. Then he propped himself up on his elbows.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he declared, the look in his eyes so final, so determined that you were almost afraid to move when you met his gaze. “And then I’m not letting you go. I don’t care if Sid texts.”

Your voice was very small. “I don’t care, either.”

“Fuck,” was more of an echo than a real whisper as his lips finally collided with yours. The kiss was deep and vehement and full of everything that had built up inside you over this day alone.

But then his tongue met yours and you realised that this day wasn’t all that special. You could have kissed him at any point of any day, and you would have still felt overwhelmed and aching, and you would have needed him right at the tips of your fingers as much as ever.

He tasted like the chocolate-covered cherry bonbons that he’d bought you because they reminded him of the summer nights you’d spent together. He tasted like the sticky homemade candy that the two of you baked when there were no other sweets in your dorm room and you craved something, but refused to leave, refused to pull away. Like the moments on the balcony of his house after you snuck away from his cousins. Like the rainy walks to class when your hair would be sticking to your face, but you couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop looking at each other.

All the thoughts that had been screaming at you for the past fifteen minutes suddenly quieted down as he leaned closer until he was hovering over you, one of his hands on the side of your face.

He felt shivers on the back of his neck when your tentative fingers found their way to his hair. He exhaled softly against your mouth and stilled momentarily when he heard your quiet whimper in response to his kiss, to his breathing, to him.

The room suddenly spun completely out of control around him.

He needed you so much and for such a long time that every time you were with him, every time you kissed him, he worried that he was dreaming again. So he kissed you harder, held onto you tighter—not wanting to find out if he was asleep, not wanting to wake up.

He unbuttoned your denim jacket without pulling away and slid it off your arms, holding the side of your neck with one of his hands. His kiss was so deep, so riveting that you felt your lungs give up, felt them pack up and leave, forcing you to breathe him instead.

His hands caressed your shoulders, finding the straps of your shirt and sliding them down your arms—and then stopping abruptly when he realised that you weren’t wearing anything underneath.

Exhaling shakily, he pulled back—lightheaded and winded and completely obsessed with you—just to look at you for a minute. There was a playful grin on his lips when he kissed you again.

You pulled away enough to ask, “what?”

“Nothing,” he murmured in-between kisses, “you’re fucking perfect. But I want this off.”

He pulled you closer and you instinctively bucked your hips off the bed, causing a momentary hitch in his breath. He lifted the hem of your shirt, pulling the material up and tracing the invisible symbols on your skin along your ribs, your chest, and your arms. Tossing your shirt aside without looking, he leaned back in, yearning for the feel of your lips on his again and accepting that he could not last one minute without you. Perhaps not even one second.

He felt your hand on his chest, trailing down to the edge of his black t-shirt and distracting him from the kiss with the softness of your touch. You lifted his shirt up to his chest—as far as it would go without breaking the kiss—and felt him hiss at the cold sensation of your bare fingertips on his stomach.

“I’m sorr—” you began, but the second you pulled away to apologise, he leaned in to capture your lips in another kiss.

“No.” His whispers were frenzied against your lips. You could have electrocuted him with your touch, sliced him into pieces with your fingers, and he would have thanked you for it. “No. You—d-don’t apologise. You’re perfect.”

He heard the way you cursed under your breath—under his breath, too—and he found it hard to inhale against the pressure in his stomach, against the tightness in his jeans. He was humming with near desperation when you pulled him closer, running your hands over his arms, your touch gentle enough to truly kill him.

He was frantic, eager to touch you, to feel your arms, your thighs, your chest, your neck—all of you—before someone interrupted you. Before his time with you ended. He knew he had the rest of his life to spend with you, but now he worried it still wouldn’t be enough.

His tongue moved over yours, his kiss deep, rushing, dizzying. He did not need to look to find the button on your pants, unclasp it, and slide the rough material down your thighs, swallowing a moan when he felt you shivering under his touch.

He quickly pulled his own shirt over his head and tossed it aside before kissing you again, high on the sound of your lips smacking against each other. He shuddered when your hands unexpectedly met his on the belt of his jeans.

“Let me do it,” you asked in a whisper—but he was wholeheartedly yours at that moment, and you didn’t even have to ask.

“Okay,” he complied, allowing you to gently push him back onto the bed.

Closing his eyes, he savoured the newfound sweetness from your kiss on his tongue. He felt you shuffle closer to him on the bed and had to take a sharp breath when one of your hands slid down his abdomen to his jeans.

You leaned over to kiss him again, and he broke—only capable of lying idly for so long—reaching for you and caressing your shoulders and your arms. He made it almost impossible for you to keep doing what you were doing; unruly wildfires blazed everywhere he touched you.

Jungkook was determined not to break the kiss even as you undid his belt and unzipped his jeans. He thought he did well. But then he lifted his hips off the bed to help you pull his jeans off and you brushed your fingers over the bulge in his boxers—your touch featherlight against the material—and he was very nearly finished.

He whimpered lightly into the kiss, his breaths growing heavier, his hands growing greedier. You made sure to hold one of his hands in yours to prevent him from flipping you over on the bed, and he responded to that by cheating: he held onto you tighter and attempted to pull you closer every time he gently bit your bottom lip and you got distracted by the pleasant sting.

Finally, you managed to slide his boxers down his thighs, catching each of his heavy breaths on your tongue. You pulled back, and he was about to protest until he saw you throw one of your legs over his, straddling his hips.

He watched you slide your panties down your legs while hovering over his thighs and he wasn’t sure how long ago he’d stopped blinking. Mesmerised by the sight, he didn’t immediately rush to assist you in maintaining your balance as you lifted one knee off the bed.

Once he recovered enough to remember to inhale, he sat up and pulled you flush to his chest. You gasped in surprise when he hooked his fingers behind the waistband of your panties and slid them down your legs faster.

“I said let me do it,” you reminded him with a pout, and he kissed you instead of replying, too impatient to wait.

Your hands slipped down his chest and your hips bucked into his just barely, but he exhaled deeply, breaking the kiss. You used the moment while he was dazed to push him back into the pillows.

He fell back on the bed, knowing very well that he’d been in this position before—with you on top of him, your fingers tracing over his length before finally wrapping around the base—but he still shivered, throwing his head back into the pillows. He still kept his eyes fixed on your face when you started to move your hand in gentle strokes, killing him a little more with each movement of your wrist.

“Fuck,” he sighed. “At least let—l-let me touch you.”

He phrased it like a request, but he did not mean it like one. You didn’t resist when he reached for you, his hands travelling over your thighs, lingering on your lower back, squeezing your ass, and pulling your hips into his.

One of your hands had come to rest on his chest for support while you continued to stroke his length in deliberately slow, languid motions. You could feel him getting harder under your touch, and you closed your eyes, your teeth sinking into your lip.

He could not look away from you. He wanted to be the one to bite your lips, but he couldn’t move close enough to you with your hands on him. He settled for exploring the skin on your hips, sliding his hands up and down your thighs. Soon, you felt the tips of his fingers brush lightly over your stomach and then descend lower to slip between your folds.

He exhaled deeply through his mouth when he felt how wet you were, and that was enough for him—he would have found a way to hold you tightly against his chest even if you were across the world from him.

In a flash, he was sitting up, connecting your lips again and bringing his tongue over yours while he gathered the wetness between your folds with his thumb. Your grip on his length tightened instinctively, and Jungkook groaned, automatically applying more pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves on your clit—just enough to have you arch your back into him.

He felt you move faster, squeezing the base and speeding up until your fingers brushed over his tip. Trying to fight back a moan, he reflexively bucked his hips into your hand while two of his fingers teased your entrance, sliding over your wet folds in a teasing, tickling motion. You broke the kiss, sighing and dropping your head on his shoulder.

He didn’t give you much time to catch your breath—you didn’t give him any of that, so he thought this was only fair—as he kissed along your jaw, gently sucking on a spot on the nape of your neck. His fingers continued stimulating your clit with a combination of light, fast circles and harder, slower strokes that he knew would make you break for him.

“F-fuck, wait,” you exhaled, grabbing his wrist to stop his movements. “I w-want you.”

“You have me, my love,” he whispered back, running his tongue over the faint mark he’d left on the sensitive skin of your neck and humming, his tone gravelly and rasp, when you hissed at the feeling. “All of me.”

You gripped his wrist tighter. “Lie back.”

He didn’t immediately obey, opting to use his only free hand—the one you couldn’t hold, because you needed both hands to stop his determined fingers from drawing you any closer to the edge—to squeeze your ass and pull your hips over his length instead.

“Lie back,” you ordered again, your words firm, but breathless. It started a raging flame in his lower stomach, but he still resisted a little more—kissing you again, sucking on your tongue, sliding his hands over your thighs, and nearly making you lose it before he finally leaned back against the pile of pillows.

Jungkook still thought he was doing fairly well, considering the burning on his skin and inside him, but watching you unwrap a condom package and slide the latex down his length—torturously slowly, it seemed to him, to really test his limits—he thought he might lose it, after all.

You felt him jerk slightly in your hand, sensitive as you rolled the condom down his length, and your deep exhale blended with his sharp inhale. He locked the sound of your breathing somewhere deep in his mind, too focused on your touch to revel in it right now, but far too inspired by the response your body had to his to forget it altogether.

He bit his lip, his eyes locked on yours as you positioned yourself over his length. He was convinced that you were teasing him on purpose when you brought his tip closer to your entrance and then paused. He could already feel the wetness of your folds on him, and the second he lifted his hands to touch you, he was forced to let them drop in utter defeat when you finally slid his tip in.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his eyes rolling back at the feeling of your tight, warm walls as you struggled to take all of him in at once, and stopped, most cruelly, halfway in.

You looked breathtaking on top of him and there wasn’t a single coherent thought in his mind, so he couldn’t offer to help you anymore, couldn’t even guide you down on his length. He could barely stay still, biting his lip and clutching the sheets so he wouldn’t ram his hips into yours.

“You’ll kill me,” he whispered in a strained voice when you lifted your hips again, sliding his length over your folds, but not slipping it back inside.

Finally, you lowered yourself on him again, taking all of him in, inch by inch, and a soft sigh escaped your lips before you could stop yourself. “O-oh.”

You had to suppress another whimper when your hips met his, the stretch of his length stinging pleasantly. He hissed at the feeling, his hands flying to your hips to keep you in place.

His touch reminded you of Amsterdam suddenly: of the way he had held you, the way he had felt after all these years.

You wanted him so much that it no longer felt like a simple wish. He felt like a necessity and you could not understand how you’d ever managed to go on with your day when he wasn’t in the room with you.

You needed a moment to adjust to him and Jungkook watched you all through it. Even though he was barely able to keep his eyes open, he took in all of your reactions as the initial sting subsided and your hips twitched against his.

“Fuck,” he whispered. “Move for me, love. Please?”

You sighed as his endearing words—and the loving lilt in his voice—lit up your stomach and made you involuntarily clench around him. He groaned, digging his fingers into your hips. You had told him to lie back, but he wasn’t sure how much longer he could obey.

Finally, you began to move and he threw his head back, swallowing hard at the feeling. You rotated your hips in slow circles, allowing his entire length to delicately rub the walls inside you, and he could not remember when he’d last felt you like this. He could not remember anything outside this room, and when you rested both of your hands on his chest for balance, he seemed to forget his own name, too.

“Fuck,” was a soft, jagged breath that got caught in his throat as he watched you in the dimly lit room. His eyes had adjusted to the darkness enough to make out your silhouette, and he squeezed your ass tighter so he wouldn’t immediately lose it at the sight.

You drew back all of a sudden, placing one hand on his chest and resting the other against the mattress, right by his arm. You pulled your bottom lip in with your teeth as you lifted your hips, then slowly lowered yourself on him again. It took you a moment to find your rhythm, and Jungkook parted his lips, inhaling sharply through clenched teeth every time your thighs met his.

You shifted your weight to your knees to increase the pace and he nearly choked on his breath when you placed your hands on his shoulders and bounced your hips against his, his length gliding against your velvety walls.

“Y-you—oh, fuck. You look s-so beautiful,” he stammered, his hands travelling from your hips to your waist, then back down again.

Love and lust burned in his darkened eyes when he looked up at you, his hair falling in messy curls around his face. His chest rose and fell underneath you, the muscles on his abdomen tightening each time you sank down on him again.

You watched him like this and you changed your mind about describing him; an adjective that would fit him had not been invented yet.

You tried to respond to his words, but he suddenly lifted his hips off the bed to meet you halfway and knocked all breath out of your lungs, forcing a soft whine to pass your lips instead as you leaned into him, losing your balance.

It was starting to get too much—how deeply he reached inside of you, how tightly he held onto you—and Jungkook noticed it right away. Squeezing your hips, he adjusted his position by bending his knees for a better angle and bouncing you on his lap very slowly once, then twice, before pulling you into his chest and thrusting into you faster.

Curses and almost desperate whines fell from your lips, matching the rhythm of his skin slapping against yours. He knew he had hit your sweet spot when he felt your nails digging into his chest, when you tightened around him, when your strained breaths got louder, when your teeth grazed his collarbone—and he growled, gripping your hips tighter and trapping you against his chest with his other arm.

“Jungkook—” you panted, barely able to speak, and the sound of his name on your lips ignited the room around him.

He grunted softly and flipped you both to your sides, pulling your back into his chest by wrapping his arms around your waist and chest, his grip firm, deliberately inescapable, but his fingers gentle as he teased your nipples. His thrusts were slower at this new angle, but now they were deep and hard. It was your increased breathing and louder, uncontrollable chants of his name that encouraged him to speed up.

“Fuck,” he exhaled. And again, louder when you clenched around him, “f-fuck.”

This position allowed him to reach even deeper inside you and the way your walls sucked him in was as blissful as it was worrisome—he wanted this to last, and he didn’t think it would. Not when he had you so close to him, inhaling the scent of your apple shampoo, peppering breathy kisses on the side of your neck, feeling the goosebumps that he brought to your skin when he caressed your nipples, and thinking he might actually explode every time your body jolted against his with each one of his thrusts.

He slid one of his hands down your navel and kept his palm right above your entrance for a distracted minute, feeling himself move in and out of you, and groaning into your shoulder before lowering his hand to your clit. You writhed against him as he rubbed on a soft, gummy spot there, bringing you dangerously close to your high.

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimpered, almost helplessly clutching his arm that was wrapped around your chest. “I’m—s-so close.”

“I’m here, my love,” he whispered. “Come for me.”

Anything you were going to say died on your tongue when you felt his lips on your neck again. His fingers continued to massage the soft spot between your folds and your walls clenched and pulsated around him with each thrust of his hips. White clouds gathered on the edges of your vision and a low moan passed your lips as the knot in your stomach tightened.

Jungkook felt you tremble in his arms and pulled you into his chest harder. Keeping quiet had stopped being an option for you when he pressed on your clit with the pillows of his fingers, his hips continuously drilling into you—he remembered the spot you liked, and he made sure to hit it every time. He felt you tighten again, so close to your peak, and he relished in your loud whimpers.

Pulling his lip ring in with his teeth, he held you tightly against him to maintain a steady pace, his strokes assured and calculated, to push you completely over the edge. He fell impossibly more in love with you when his name got caught in your throat with your breath.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty,” he cooed as you writhed in his arms, coming down from your high. “S-so pretty—oh, fuck, my love—when you come for me.”

The anticipation of his own climax soon caused his hips to start moving with a certain frenzy, and he pulled all the way out before plunging himself into you again and fully bottoming out.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” he grunted breathlessly, twitching inside of you.

His hips stilled completely and he cursed again, spilling himself into the condom. Groaning deeply, he drove his hips into yours instinctively, this way prolonging his pleasure and the time he spent watching you bite your lip in an attempt to stay quiet. He thought he heard you whisper a breathless I love you and he was convinced he came again just at the sound of it.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck and his voice cracked in the middle of his breathless chants, “fuck, I love you so much—I-I love you so fucking much—”

He still didn’t release his grip on you, lifting his head to kiss your neck again, while the two of you tried to recover and accepted, eventually, that you probably never truly would.

“Fuck,” he exhaled. Then, again, from the back of his throat, “fuck.”

You turned around as much as you could with his arms around you, and met his lips with your own, humming into the kiss and causing him to lose his sanity again—although, to be perfectly honest, he wasn’t sure if he’d even regained it yet.

Your bodies remained locked in an almost desperate embrace for another minute, your lips moving leisurely against each other as your breaths mingled and the room—but not your hearts—quieted down.

Unfortunately, you had to strain your neck to kiss him from this position, and Jungkook ended up having to let go of you. He pulled out carefully—the gentle contact still making you hiss from sensitivity—and helped you roll to your other side to face him.

After pressing another kiss to your lips, he grabbed a stray pillow and placed it next to your head. He touched your chin gently, prompting you to lift your head so he could slide the pillow underneath.

You smiled at the unnecessary, but very appreciated gesture. “I love you.”

His chest contemplated bursting.

“I love you,” he replied. “So much that I am not—I don’t want you to leave this room. Or my bed, actually. I want to stay with you every second of every day, and I’m okay if every court would qualify me as insane for that.”

You snickered into the pillow, your expression radiant. “I don’t think you’re insane.”

He grinned and got up to discard the condom before climbing back into bed.

“And I want to stay, too,” you added, closing your eyes.

He pressed a kiss to your cheek as he got comfortable on the bed. “Not just tonight, but always?”

“Of course,” you whispered, your voice turning lighter, “but I do have my own room.”

He settled in his spot next to you and draped an arm over your waist with a soft grunt. “Fuck if I knew why.”

He pulled back slightly to see your laughter. You didn’t seem like you were going to object or tell him that you should leave, but he still caressed your cheek, bringing his fingers over the smile lines by your lips that he had caused. His heart fought fiercely against his mind at the sight of them. He was almost ready to call Rated Riot’s next song “Smile Lines” and just sigh dreamily into the microphone for five minutes while Yoongi played gentle piano chords in the background.

“I think you should stay with me everywhere we go,” he said, leaning in to connect your lips in a deep, lingering kiss. His voice was a whisper against your mouth, “so we could do this again. And again. And again.”

You broke the kiss—and he would have been very upset about that, but you did that to laugh again, and he understandably forgot everything he was thinking of doing.

“You have a show tomorrow,” you reminded him gently, your eyes warm.

He shrugged. “So we’ll have to take a break for a few hours.”

You pressed your lips together, trying to contain your smile to an appropriate level. “Hmm.”

He rested his forehead against yours. “Sounds good?”

“You are messing with my head,” you whispered.

He grinned, pressing his lips to yours again. “I love you.”

You kissed him back but made sure to click your lips in feigned disapproval as you pulled away. “What did I just say?”

“You messed with mine first,” he countered, his quiet laughter blending with the warmth of your kiss.

He had already stolen all air from your lungs, robbed your mind of every thought you possessed before him, and kept your heart hostage—and now he was beaming like he knew very well he’d done all that. Like he wasn’t one bit sorry about ingraining himself in your life so much that it felt like you shared one soul, and it had stayed with him after you broke up: forcing him to suffer from the weight of it, while you searched for something missing inside you.

“I love you,” you said again. Your words were a whisper and they got lost on his tongue but found their way to his heart anyway.

Planting a few quick, butterfly kisses to your lips, he leaned back against the pillows, keeping his palm on the side of your face so he could rub gentle circles over your cheek with his thumb.

He loved you, and sometimes this love was all that he could think about.

Other times, however, the shadows in the room grew just a little darker.

“Sid hasn’t replied, huh?” he asked quietly, reluctantly.

You sighed, shaking your head. Your phone had been silent all night, and the more you tried to ignore the silence, the more noticeable it became.

“Should I text him?” he suggested. “To poke the bear a little.”

You frowned and felt your stomach sink—a feeling that Jungkook made even worse by pulling away from you and allowing for the brutal, cold air of the room to fill the space where his hand had been.

“What do you mean?” you asked, sitting up.

He rolled over to grab his phone from the nightstand.

You moved closer to be able to see the screen over his shoulder. You frowned the whole time, but it really did not take Jungkook more than a minute to compose a message that almost sparked an argument between the two of you.

After some relatively mild back and forth—consisting of your annoyed, “I told you I want to keep you out of this” that was followed immediately by his melodramatic, “I’m doing this because I love you”—the two of you reached a compromise.

Look, his text to Sid read. I know you’ve been texting my girlfriend. Stop. Let’s keep this shit between us.

This wasn’t the full truth. After sending you a few mocking texts after he posted that picture to his Instagram, Sid hadn’t texted you anything else. You weren’t sure if this would even provoke a response, but Jungkook was convinced. He sent the text and pulled you back onto the pillows despite your protests.

“I’m sure it’ll only be a few minutes,” he said. “Until he texts you.”

Sure enough, he did.

Just as you lied down next to Jungkook, just as he intertwined your hands, his fingers toying with yours, just as you were about to forget your phone altogether—just then, the text finally came.

Your eyes widened, but Jungkook had the decency not to gloat. Instead, he wrapped his arms around you until the beating of your heart returned to a reasonable pace. Then he let you sit up again and reach for your phone.

Sid’s message read, “eager to talk to me now?:)” and you breathed out a sigh of relief as soon as you showed the text to Jungkook.

“Alright,” you said, content. You didn’t even need to respond to him anymore, he’d already started the next step of your plan. “Now we’re good to go.”

Jungkook, smiled, nodding and extending his hand to pat the bed. You lied back down and he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to feel your skin against his again. His breathing was soft on your neck and you smiled back, finally losing yourself in the calming darkness of his room and the warmth of his touch.

For one blissful minute, you focused on his breathing and traced the edges of his tattoos, and felt as though nothing bad, nothing hurtful or upsetting had ever happened to either of you.

“Will we be okay, do you think?” you asked wearily. “Tomorrow.”

He was taken aback by the question, you could tell from the way his breathing increased, but his response was quick and certain.

“We’re already okay,” he said. “Today and tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and the day—”

“I love you,” you interjected softly, successfully stopping him.

“Thank you,” he said. “I would have kept going.”

You grinned. “I know you would have.”

He snickered, pulling you closer until you nestled your face into his neck and rested your hands on his chest, tapping, every now and then, to the beat of his heart.

“Sleep,” he whispered. “For a few hours, at least.”

You leaned your head back enough to press a gentle kiss on the corner of his lips instead of replying.

Jungkook hummed and melted into you, easing his grip to give you some space to breathe, but still remaining attached to you like he was a part of you and you were a part of him.

He could have stayed with you like this, he thought, for the rest of his life. And for at least a hundred more lives after that.

chapter title credits: sleep token, “give”

prev ○ next (coming soon)

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x you #bts x reader #bts smut #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts x you #bts fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts au #jungkook au #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfiction #bts rockstar au #jungkook rockstar au

[imagine--if]

hey! i hope your doing well, i would love to see anything fluffy for mike (headcanons, blurbs, whatever you feel like suits it most!) - he deserves the whole world and sm more to me 😭

A/N: I get youuuu, hope you enjoy 😁 started off with the relationship hcs but let me know if you wanna see anything more specific!!

Warnings: FNAF movie spoilers, mentions of violence

⋆✮ Dating Mike Schmidt Includes: ✮⋆

➳ Mike's been through a hell of a lot ever since his little brother got kidnapped, so I'm seeing major protectiveness and sometimes even clinginess involved from him when you end up dating because 😭 guy's been through stuff and he's not letting anyone else he's close to get hurt

➳ To be honest, at first he's pretty closed-off with people, vulnerable with a tough exterior, so if you meet him in some scenario where you're tied up with the Freddy's murders and job, he'll try to be distant and professional and all... ending up failing 🙃

➳ Eventually you start. talking more about personal things, hobbies your lives, and he'll mention his sister Abby and having to take the job because he needs the money and is in the middle of the custody situation with his sister. He's got a lot going on and the trauma of what happened all those years ago still wringing at his guilt, so being able to talk with someone who doesn't judge in a relaxed place is a nice change for him having to be on guard all the time.

➳ When Mike befriends you, which is what happens first, he's got your back. If you need someone to vent to or hang out with or whatever, he'll do whatever he can to help, and when it comes to you being in a sticky situation or someone trying to hurt you or play you, he always seems to realise and is in no way afraid of confrontation to get them to back off.

➳ Like if William tries sizing you up a bit... and Mike gets annoyed with that cool, defensive glare as he asks if he needs anything (I've got to make an imagine of this nowwww). I think Mike would only realise that he's actually jealous if you teased about it, or if he really loses his temper with someone that's not leaving you alone or something. Then it really nags at him and makes him think about actually liking you as more than a friend, and then that initial reluctance because everyone he gets close to seems to have something bad happen to them, like it's a curse. At the end of the day, he just wants you to be safe.

➳ It would take something big for Mike to confess to you, unless you take the first step (aka Abby begging you to tell him you like him too because she's getting bored of him not concentrating on what she's talking to him about or the conversation somehow curving to you and the stuff you're into). Maybe you're attacked at Freddy's and you're all in on the crisis together when Mike stands firmly in front of you when William reveals himself, or he shoves you out the way so you won't get hurt, ultimately jumping in front of the threat without a worry of him getting hit instead. It's then that he realises how much he needs you in his life, how he needs you alive because you add some joy to it that he hasn't felt in all these years, a change from the darkness that his head's stuck in.

➳ It all comes out of him in a rush as he looks you up and down with wild eyes and a firm grip, asking if you're alright and saying in a rush that "you're one of the most important people in the world to me, and I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt... I- I couldn't live with myself, okay?!"

➳ Okayyy Mike, just kiss them 😏

➳ After you fight Afton together and get Vanessa looked after, you can finally breathe and properly start dating, which includes that familiar protectiveness and slight clinginess... and also being best friends with his little sister, which you 100% would be. You'd spend time drawing or chatting or playing random games while Mike was out working, eliminating the need for a babysitter because you're the perfect fit and get along with her great. And when he is home, you do a lot of stuff together, like a mini family, and there's finally that security and stability in that life she needed.

➳ I feel like Abby would find it hilarious to tell you all the sappy things Mike says about you on the rare occasions where you're not around, ending in Mike's cheeks flushing beet red and him picking her up and whirling her around playfully until she's in fits of laughter. "I heard Mike say that he found another reason to keep going when he realised he was in love wi- hey!!"

➳ Mike would be a bit clingy, again because of what happened with Garret; Mike being distracted for one moment and then blaming himself for the rest of his life because it was that moment where his brother was taken and killed. So if you are out, on a date or just around, this guy will not leave your side. He's the kind of person to text you again and again if you don't respond to the first message, and it's kind of cute how much he worries, but then he doesn't need to, and every now and then he'll need your reassurance that you guys are safe and that you won't leave him, which stills ends with him burying his face in your neck for a long tight hug for a while.

➳ MIKE'S A BIG HUGGER. CHANGE MY MIND.

➳ Whether you're watching a movie with him and Abby, or you're out on a date or sleeping or whatever, Mike will always have some contact with you if you've told him you're okay with it: fingers linked under the table, pressed into his side while you're watching TV (with an affectionate forehead kiss every five minutes 🥺) or being half crushed to death while you're trying to sleep when he rolls onto you and traps you under his leg... good luck if you need to go to the bathroom. Chances are he'll end up trailing after you with mumbled protests.

➳ That protectiveness always kicks in when someone looks at you for too long, or in a way that he doesn't like the look of, or if you're obviously uncomfortable with. If you're quick, you can just convince him to walk away and you two go somewhere else, because Mike will end up getting annoyed and giving the guy a line to get him to make them go away. If he's not careful, he might end up getting in a fight again, but he'll really try not to when you tell him off for it and promise him that things are okay and you're not going anywhere.

➳ You and Abby are basically Mike's world, after all that's happened, there are only really two people left that he truly cares for and would do anything for. Once you're in a relationship with him, he'll do everything he can to make sure you're safe and won't have to go through anything he had to. If ever you're upset, he'll listen for hours with no judgement and major support, whatever mood you're in somehow rubbing off on him. Mike will admit his feelings in a rush, and when he does, he's not afraid to tell you that he loves you whenever you need to hear it, or whenever he wants to say it and wants you to be reminded. It's something that you can never doubt.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt imagine #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt #mike schmidt fnaf #steve raglan #fnaf mike #vanessa afton #abby schmidt #william afton #mike schmidt x you #michael schmidt #fnaf movie 2023 #fnaf movie #fnaf film #fnaf 2023 #josh hutcherson #five nights at freddys movie #josh hutcherson gifs #josh hutcherson imagine #fnaf fanfic #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddys #micheal schmidt #fnaf spoilers #five nights at freddy's #fnaf fandom #fnaf #fnaf michael afton #michael afton

[wlfpet]

ABBY ANDERSON NSFW ALPHABET

AN: I’m tiki!! this is the first fic I’ve posted to tumblr :D super self-indulgent, a bunch of different kinks. started writing this on my birthday and it beat my ass for 3 weeks. I hope you all like it!!! this was supposed to be strictly nsfw but then somehow it became fluff midway because she deserves it ;-; crazy how much love i have for the pretty girl who lives in my playstation 5

content tags (many of these are just ments or glossed over):

reader insert fic, discusses an established relationship between Abby and r | fingering (r! receiving) | cunnilingus (r! receiving) | strap-on sex (r!receiving) | strap-on blowjob, packing (all in ‘Toys’) | cum eating and swapping mentioned briefly | degradation and rough sex in ‘Risk’ and ‘Volume’ | mentions of mindbreak and dollification in ‘Dirty Secret’ | strength/helplessness kink | exercise kink/play(????) in ‘Stamina’ | praise, breeding, and primal sex kink | erotic asphyxiation (specifically headlocking) in ‘Quickie’ | public masturbation in ‘Jack Off’ | objectification (played with, in ‘Stamina’ | spit drinking, spitting and other bodily fluids in ‘Risk’ and ‘Toys’ | overstimulation in ‘Unfair’ | inner monologue alludes to fisting but it doesn’t actually happen ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ in ‘Quickie’ | assplay, anal stimulation if you blink in ‘Wild Card’ | mommy kink in ‘Volume,’ similar verbiage, different context in ‘Kink’

MEN AND MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY

word count: 5.4k (oof.)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

abby’s aftercare is the stuff of dreams. you’ll be laying on the bed, still restless and trembling from whatever scene was prior, feeling the dent in the bed smooth out as abby tugs on her boxers and stumbles topless, hair messy, and strap probably still wet (;-;) into the bathroom. you would hear the metal of the harness clatter down to the tile floor before she brings back a couple of damp, warm towels to wipe you down with. she’d massage your back and thighs and ass, making sure to work out all of the tension and soothe any aches, occasionally rubbing lotion on your skin and healing cream over any scratch marks she left behind, soothing any bruises she left behind by rubbing gentle circles over them with her knuckles and icing them if need be. kissing and sucking on any exposed skin she can get to, smoothing down your hair, and cleaning out your tears with a cloth. if it was any more intense play like degradation or humiliation, she would reassure you, looking you into your eyes, kissing you, and rubbing little lines into your cheek with the pads of her thick thumbs, telling you that no matter what, you’re her forever choice, that she loves you more than anything on this earth.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

abby spends a lot of time in the gym sculpting her perfect body, so naturally, her favourite body parts are her thighs and biceps. she’s extremely cocky about her physique, how it draws stares, elicits whispers, and wets panties. lords it over her partner and has a major strength/helplessness kink, pinning you down and watching how the muscles in your arms pulsate and flex but barely make a move. It’s mind-blowing how she can flip you over, legs in the air, back resting over one shoulder with a heavy palm over your tummy, and hammer into you with two thick, calloused fingers until your release is weeping down her wrists and forming a steady drip onto her chest. revels in how your might is only a fraction of hers. adores body worship, giving and receiving; the sensation of her partner running their tongue over the veins and scars on her body is enough to drive her insane with lust. abby is obsessed with her lover’s body, and if you have any insecurities, they’ll be constantly met with kisses, rubs, hickies, and bite marks. her favourite part of your body is your stomach; rubbing it when you're sick, using it as a pillow when you’re cuddling on the bed and watching an old movie, or using it for grip when she’s hitting it from the b-

nonsexually, she thinks that her nose is the best feature on her face, the easiest way to steal a rare giggle or smile from her is to give it a kiss, and she always rubs it against yours before you both fall asleep at night.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Abby doesn’t orgasm particularly fast; she needs a lot more love and attention to cum well and cum hard, so you have to take your time with her; gets really soft and emotional with how patient and gentle you are with her body. gets primarily visual arousal, and when she gets riled up, it's like a water fountain, with super wet stained panties, her lips all pretty and glistening, literally talking to you with squelches and squishy smacking noises ringing out of her juicy cunny. naturally, she gets super shy and red-faced about this. squirt drinker with no regrets, really into the idea of cum swapping, taking it upon herself to make out with you after eating your pussy.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

abby’s dirty secret is that she has a huge dependence kink. she fantasizes about you to being happily stupid, mindbroken, eating out of her palm as she pampers you, creating her own personal plaything and dolly. being able to take what she wants when she wants it, or dressing you up how she wants to see you and having you wear it out, no matter how revealing or embarrassing the outfit is. wants you to see her as your saviour, taking her fingers, or her tongue, or her cock easily, never thinking big girl thoughts, never thinking period because it makes your head hurt, and when your head hurts, you get sad :(( feeding you, clothing you, bathing you, keeping you sheltered and happy with your simple needs in your simple, silly little head. abby is a natural protector and provider, so she does all of these things automatically anyways, but the added arousal of you needing her, of allowing her to own you in every way, being worshipped by you, and being your only safe space adds a level of eroticism that she’s shy to admit.

of course, you would always be content, always joyful to make your owner smile and feel good! happily offering up your holes or going in between her thighs like a good dolly should, because you’re grateful to her. she provides everything else, so why not?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

abby is not thoroughly experienced with long-term dynamics, she’s had a decent amount of casual sex, but this is a rare foray into actual *romance.* she’s ambitious and has tried different things, but she needs a push sometimes to be more vocal with communicating her sexual needs or telling you what she wants to be done to her in the bedroom. over time and with comfort and trust, she'll become more comfortable with setting boundaries, introducing kinks and other types of play, but she starts shy and closed off. on a purely physical side, became very attentive and skilled over a short amount of time, and is willing to try pretty much anything that isn’t a hard limit.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

abby is obsessed with any position she can show off her physical capabilities in while she’s fucking you. hoisting your legs over your head and pinning them to the bed in mating press while she slams to the hilt like a restless madwoman, each thrust grinding into that rough, almond-shaped sore deep in your wetness that sends shutdown instructions to your brain? check. across a desk, table, countertop, whatever, holding you in a mock-wheelbarrow position, one leg crooked through her arm while the other struggles for balance against your weight and the pattered bump of her fucking in and out of you as your hands scramble the table, fighting for a grip? check. using her superior planking skills to bear all of her weight onto you while she sloughs her cock in and out of you while you lay on your stomach, helpless but to take it, strong arms wrapped around your head as a hand plays in the hair at the crown of your skull? check.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

tries to portray a serious stoic dom during scenes, but sometimes she’ll fuck up a sexy line she’s been brainstorming and you’ll hear her try, (and fail) to stifle a snort and giggle. fights herself not to crack jokes at some of the silly shit the two of you say when you’re peaking, or your varying o-faces. during vanilla sex and when she’s not trying to put on a persona, abby can be very goofy in the bedroom.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

expect tufts of shiny, curly dirty blonde hair around the perimeter of her pussy. it might trail down her thighs, depending on how grown it is, and blends into a soft happy trail going up her stomach to her belly button. if it gets too tangly or hot outside, she might trim it a bit with scissors, but other than that, abby doesn’t really care or think about ‘keeping up’ with her pubic hair. word flies through the stadium that hairy pussy is her weakness, so if you keep yours bushier, don’t be surprised if abby has to compose herself before she digs in.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

emotional intimacy is crucial to her, and constantly being in a space where just for survival she has to compartmentalise her humanity wears down on her mentally. she’s confused when she wakes up in the morning after your first time together, and you’re cuddled into the space between her shoulder and her underarm; sunlight dappling your face as it leaks in through the holes in the privacy shield against the window. after you promised one another that there would be no feelings, no strings attached, just the two of you passing the time and having fun, she doesn’t wake up alone.

sometimes, you’re so sweet to her that she has to fight back tears, which she promptly plays off. you run the edge of your nails up and down her scalp while she’s still bathing in the afterglow of an orgasm, and she feels free. abby loves when you give her pet names, big girl, baby, goldie, prince charming, but when she slides her flat palms under your shirt, rubbing up and down your torso, and you breathe out just ‘abs,’ that's when she knows she’s found her way home.

in her eyes, there is no god, but she understands worship when she fucks into you slowly, gently, opening you up bit by bit, her whispers almost inaudible in the crook of your neck as she cradles you in her hands like she’s trying to capture a moment in time; she understood what it meant to be sanctified when you kiss for a long time, hands exploring one another, all of her hard on all of your soft, and don’t end up fucking. for years she’s felt like a tool for other people to use, so it’s hard for her to verbalise her needs in fear of being shut down, but somehow, you just… know. she lets her guard down for you, gets too pliant and lazy and comfortable in a way that she’s still learning to be okay with. she’s still working on emotional availability and being open with herself and others, but you remind her that she exists, and abby is forever grateful for that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

abby isn’t super chronically horny, but will definitely turn to her hand if it’s been an extended patrol run where she has to be away from you for multiple nights at a time. she thanks her lucky stars the first time she opens her pack while camping out with her team at Eight and finds naughty polaroids you snuck in her bag. she finds it easy to treat her insomnia on those nights by shoving her fingers deep into her pussy and curling against her swollen g-spot, while her thumb flicks against the mass of her clit, sending shockwaves that spasm her toes and travel up her spine to the top of her head.

she has to use the flat of her palm against her mouth to stifle adorable, high pitched moans as her hips snap wildly, chasing an orgasm that rips through her body, leaving her panting heavily and leaking the contents of her fucked-out hole down her ass. she’s woken you up before with how loud and intense her sounds can be, so she hopes she can keep quiet well enough to not wake her squadmates stirring in their sleep.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

abby is heavily turned on by praise; tell her that she’s fucking you so good, that she’s hitting that spot just right, that she’s so pretty and strong and takes care of you just how you need it, and you’ll drive her crazy with love and lust. despite the fact that she reasonably can’t, abby always gets a kick out of you begging her to cum inside of you, to give you a baby, which she happily obliges, pressing deep into you with your feet to your ears, taking advantage of how much bigger and stronger she is, how tiny and pathetic and weak you are when you struggle, licking tears of ecstasy from your eyes and growling, “you want me to make you into a mommy, huh? –to blow my fuckin’ load deep in you?”

loves primal sex, fucking you on your tummy, against your bedroom door, in a headlock, over the table… enough said, just hunting you like prey and using all of her physical dominance to control your body like an animal, wrenching orgasm after orgasm out of your body even when you’re begging and pleading that it’s too much. she wants to dumb you out, ruin your mind and make you think only of her, living, breathing, existing only off of how good she makes you feel.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

abby is on whatever you’re on, honestly. she’s more careful at the stadium or the FOB, not wanting to do anything that jeopardises your reputations or her cushy position at isaac’s right hand. okay with weighing risks at home base, but she’s too paranoid and focused on keeping you safe in a dangerous world to do anything when the two of you are outside the fence. her baby isn’t a soldier, so you might be more idealistic and naive about what lies outside of the walls. it’s hard for her to let her guard down when you’re too sweet, too optimistic, too soft, and there are a million terrible, horrible ways she could lose you lurking around every corner. the most you’ll get while on patrol is a quick make-out session, a couple of playful slaps to your ass or a hand on your waist pulling you from here to there, and at *most* a little bit of bump and grind in a deadbolted room. if she can guarantee your safety and comfort, she’ll oblige. but she’s not hard to convince, and she can’t deny your puppy eyes when you ask for a late-night quickie in the community showers. but all in all, she prefers her bedroom, where the two of you can be as loud as you want, where she can make the bed shake and rattle and hear you whine and moan and cry as much as she wants.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

loses her mind over tension. sexual tension, romantic tension, when you two are so pissed at each other that you could tear the other apart with bare hands. firm believer that the make-up sex is the best part of a fight. heated arguments turn into rough, primal fucking to fix both of your attitudes. the two of you stealing heated glances across the cafeteria while you work the consignment desk turns into the two of you huddled in a utility closet, abby’s cheeks warming the space between your breasts, raking a finger through your folds painfully slow. when you see her after a long rotation in her militia gear, bloody, covered in dirt and whatever else but still whole and still yours, your soldier, your protector– it’s like the two of you go into fucking heat, romping like bunnies for hours while you reward her for a job well done, letting her burn off all of that pent up adrenaline and jumpiness from the day.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

she’s really anxious about hard impact. she’s painfully aware of how much stronger she is than the average woman, and she’ll never get anywhere more physical than a firm slap on your ass or pussy, or little slaps to your cheek to redirect you during play. she’s terrified of hurting you, and she’ll never go farther than that, even if you really want her to.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

abby’s a head monster. can eat you out for HOURS to the point of overstimulation. gripping and slapping your ass, squishing your pussylips between two fingers, relishing in the way that your gush leaks from the seams, wrenching your thighs apart so she can have easy access to fuck you out with her tongue. she’s a bit impartial to receiving when you first get together. she considers herself a service top; she gets off watching you get off, and great head is infrequent at the stadium. that all changed the first time you offered, tongue plying down into her musky heat, savouring the salty-sweetness of her warmth. from there, she was lost, fucking your mouth and chasing her own pleasure. the only thing breaking her out of her haze was the feeling of you lightly slapping her inner thigh, running out of breath from the heavy palm tangled in your hair holding you tight to her cunt. she apologised profusely afterward that she was too blissed out, that she’ll be more mindful next time. you two still laugh about how the head was so good she tried to kill you; poor baby doesn’t know her own strength :(

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Most times, if she's lethargic and sleepy from a long shift she’ll let you take complete control, riding her until your orgasm and then falling asleep on her tummy. Other times, like days off, she's in full control; fucking you like she hates you in the prone position as she pushes you down with her weight, or laying in bed and holding your leg up in the air effortlessly as she fucks you slow and romantic from the side.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

abby desires you in every way. it doesn’t really matter to her, as long as she can get her hands on you. she loves quickies for their tense, ’try not to get caught’ vibe and the challenge of seeing how fast she can ruin you with just her fingers and tongue, but in reality, she’s not very good at them. she’s fucked you ten minutes before she had to roll out for patrol, just because she was pent up from last night and you looked soo fucking irresistible. fucking you fast and rough with her arm around your throat, doling out breath as she saw fit, your eyes rolling back as you got brought to orgasm and then taken back to the starting line over and over. it carried over so late that they had a rookie come to her door and knock looking for her. needless to say, that rookie got chewed out and taken off her next patrol for insubordination.

but I think she relishes getting to be slow with you. everything in her life is so fast, so twitchy, always on edge, so she really values getting to lay down in bed with you and take you down piece by piece. spreading open your lips and working you open finger by finger until you’re all swollen down there and leaking over her palm, pussy so cute and red and puffy and just *begging* for her thumb to slide in too. introducing the strap to your well-used, well-warmed-up cunt, and analysing every muscle in your face as you keen at the insertion. she’ll rub your clit achingly slow, listening as you babble for more, to stop teasing, to fuck you the way that only she knows, and marvels at how your hard clit stands at attention and bounces around her fingertips. when she’s done, abby wants it to be hours after, your moans still stuck to the ceiling, pussy clenching and unclenching, wetting the sheets as you’re left a defiled slut, but most importantly, hers and hers only.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

abby anderson is good for being adventurous in bed, but she’s only really comfortable with simple risks; erotic asphyxiation, rope bondage, spanking. one night, you asked her if she could bring her service pistol into the bedroom –unloaded, disassembled and reassembled, of course– and it was a firm ‘no.’ but she still thinks about it sometimes, not gonna lie. she never wants to put you in a place where recklessness can get one, or both of you seriously injured or worse.

but what she didn’t know, however, was that she was getting into a relationship with a crazy fucking daredevil. you’re practically owned by trying to convince her to fuck in risky, dangerous places.

"babe, why don’t i give you some head? you cleared out this scar camp sooo good–!" "no."

":(( let's scissor in this abandoned tunnel, then!" "stop. we gotta sweep the area for infected."

"are you sure you don’t want some pussy off the side of this ferris wh–" "what the fuck did i say?"

under normal circumstances, abby wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to punish you for being bratty, but right now she’s trying to keep her lunch inside, thankyouverymuch!

sidebar but sometimes she’ll just snap after all of your failed attempts at seducing her, pushing you into the dirt wherever you are, and just… starts savagely hard domming you, sheathing her strap into your cunt with her hand over your mouth and the other fisted in your hair, pulling by the roots, wedging your mouth open and making you swallow thick gobs of her spit.

“this what you wanted, right?” yanking your head up to meet her face, eyes burning with rage. “and you better be fuckin’ quiet. goddamn liability.” she sneers into your ear, bottoming out into you over and over again and battering your cervix and tender inner walls, the pleasure and degradation making fat tears run down your cheeks. fortunately (for her, at least,) she doesn’t have any more problems with disobedience for the rest of the journey back to the FOB.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

dating a gym rat wasn’t your most well-thought-out idea, as she has so much more stamina than you know what to do with. content with fucking you until her muscles burn and you’re begging her that it’s too much, abby treats you like human exercise equipment. when she really needs long-term stress relief, she whispers in your ear, “lay down baby, you’re gonna be my workout buddy, yeah? g’na be my good girl and help me get bigger and stronger?”

she makes you count out how many strokes she gives you, holding you up and bouncing you on her fat dick with nothing else but the strength of her bulging, hard-working muscles supporting every pound of your weight, muttering something to herself about how this is better than getting on the bench, anyways. you’re surprised when you see her looking over her naked form in the mirror after a long “personal training” session, and she has an actual muscle pump.

after what feels like hours, you’re trying to catch your breath, looking and feeling a fucked out mess, when abby runs her hands back over your ass, kneading and gently ghosting over your ruined pussy with a finger. “got another set in you, i know you do.” and you barely have enough time to get back into position before your eyes are rolling back and she’s ripping a moan out of you, in plank position with her hands on either side of your head as she slides her cock head into your messy, torn-up twat.

...it’s going to be a long session.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

abby’s prized possession is a glittery blue strap-on, eight-and-a-half inches of pure problem, sourced from the ruins of a dilapidated strip mall the two of you stumbled across on patrol. she was a bit impartial to the idea, but figured that it would ease some of the stress off her achy wrists. quickly became hooked, wanting to use it every time you two fucked, and any chance she could crop up, nestling into you while you stood at the sink, hands in the dishes, her fingers getting lost under your bra, squishing a nipple as she sunk deeper inside. she loved how she could see you get more and more fucked out than you ever had off just her tongue alone, could grit her teeth as leather and rough fabric bit into her clit, could marvel in the mirror at the bulge it left when she stuffed it into her briefs before heading out for the day, straining against the grey cotton, altering the tempo of her walk, forcing her natural manspread just a little bit wider. could get a *great* core workout from pounding into your abused holes for hours.

abby is obsessed with strap sucking as foreplay, especially if you fix up those pretty, puffed-up lips with gloss or lipstick so that she can watch as sloppy rings form around the silicone. loves watching you make yourself messy with spit running down your chin as you mouth her strap through her cotton boxers. (loves SLOPPY top, like really throat it, gag, hit the back of your throat choking it down, slobber coating your fingers in messy globs. wants to see tears and snot and spit dribbling out of you from loving her cock the way only you know how.)

one night, you finally give her the green light to act out one of her biggest fantasies, letting her fuck your throat nice and deep, making you gag and drool every time she bottoms out, your domineering girlfriend reaching a hand to rub your clenching throat, whispering a mixture of sweet nothings and abject depravity that sends shockwaves to your clit and makes you ruin your panties.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

abby doesn’t consider herself a sadist but lets it be known that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. knows just when to switch off her puppy-dog girlfriend mode that just wants to make you feel good and turn on her wolf callousness, the cruelty that relishes torturing you. will let you be a brat and then edge you for days as punishment, watching you cry as her finger brushes over your exploited clitty, helpless but to let her go knuckle deep in your little hole and thrashing as she fucks you ever so slowly, savouring your pleas to have mercy. not super into the public sex thing, but will have you sit on her lap or her thigh in the cafeteria or in the common area at the stadium, grinding into your pussy and pretending like nothing is happening while you stifle your moans and your mind goes blank.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Abby is possessive DOWN and, therefore, loud as fuck when you two are at each other. tried to hold back her moans when y’all had first got together, now she’s an animal in the bedroom, groaning and panting in your ear turning into growls and near-inhuman whines and moans. a sucker for call-and-response, and will tease you over and over again until you say, ‘it’s your pussy, this is your pussy,’ in the way she likes it. wants people to walk past her room and know what’s going on, wants to claim you even when you’re not together, wants to make it known that you’re strictly off limits. her mouth gets filthier and more degrading when she’s far gone, and it’s not unlikely for her to growl out that you’re a bitch or a whore, and make you repeat it at the top of your lungs.

when she’s bottoming, it’s a whole different story, keening and moaning into your touch, stifling her whines by biting her lip, a habit that you hate. has pretty, subby moans that only get louder the closer she gets to orgasm. It's enough to ring in your ears and shake the wall; the sounds of her begging and crying can definitely be heard in the hallways and outside on the green, but when she’s close, chasing her peak and pleading to be let go, she doesn’t give a fuck. It’s obvious what it is, what’s going on, that it’s abby begging, “mommy– fuck, please let me get off please lemme fuckin’ cum, ineeditineeditireallyneedit.” it’s the sound that can be heard around the world, but she’s never been approached about it, and at this point she really dares someone to try.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

has a habit of slamming the headboard with her palm when she’s filling you rough and deep with her strap. she’d never turn her pent-up aggression on you, but it fires you up knowing that she’s on the verge of losing it. it makes you crazy, seeing her in her most primal form, bottled-up stress and anger spilling out of her, using your pussy the way she wants, how she thinks you deserve it. also a firm believer in sticking her thumb in your asshole while fucking you from behind.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

five feet and eleven inches of absolutely sculpted muscle. every single part of her looks custom made, every freckle painted on by hand, each scar webbing her skin a reminder of every time she made it back home. unshaven everywhere, her tummy and her legs and her underarms covered in dense, velvety swaths of hair, making her cuddly and soft like a pillow. the doughy fat of her small breasts pokes out over her impressive pectorals; the divot of her chest is covered in a heavy swath of freckles. deep pink, medium-sized nipples, slightly puffy and heavily sensitive. enjoys nipple play and breast stimulation as foreplay; likes having her breasts sucked on during sex. straight hips and thick thighs, deep scar on her left thigh from a raider ambush. has an outie pussy with fat outer lips, inner labia is dark pink and protrudes; the first thing to engorge when aroused. larger than average clit with high sensitivity. less sensitive to penetration, so she usually needs a lot of foreplay or dual stimulation to have a penetrative orgasm. curly blonde pubic hair around the perimeter of her vagina. firm ass, all muscle. brown splotch birthmark on her left asscheek. has an asshole, you know.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

abby prides herself on willpower and self-control, but when it comes to you, she burns hot. she wants her hands, tongue, fingers, everything on you or in you or grabbing anything she can touch. she had secret trysts, an assortment of sneaky links and fuckbuddies to scratch that itch deep inside, but she was c o n t r o l l e d by how much she desired you, how she fucks you like she needs you or else she’ll fucking die.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

such a cuddlebug. after it’s all said and done, expect abby to use the superior force of her body to roll you on top of her, lips full of praise and sweet kisses, and run hands through your hair and down your back until you fall asleep. watches you for a little while, taking in every peaceful, sweet feature on your face until that familiar warm pressure coats her skull and the pull of gravity plays against her eyes. she always goes to bed last, dutiful in making sure you're content, sated and happy, but on days where she doesn’t have to work she’s the last to wake up, a lump forming in her throat when you greet her with breakfast and coffee from the cafeteria, she laughs it off as soreness from sleeping under an open window.

#abby anderson ff #abby anderson smut #abby x reader #abby anderson x fem reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x you #abby smut #abby tlou smut #abby anderson x reader #tiki writes

[s0lar-ch3ri]

what if i wanted to make another insane promo post?

yeah, ik, its promo time again. BUT this time around i do wanna add in the post both my cousin and niece

one thing i did get wrong, heartz is my niece, starz is my cousin! this will basically be going over what each of these 2 do (...and im also adding in a bonus competitor/promoed person, well actually 2 because I GOT A CHANNEL YIPPEE)

each channel will be seperated up so yeah lets go!

first channel:

Starzzz.andgalaxy (my actual cousin, lol) is a great yter who absolutely deserves to be celebrating more then just 170 subs! since shes actually here with me, i can let her say a lil something on the matter:

"hello! I would love to reach 200 subscribers at least, I think my hard work should not be for nothing!" <- her typing

shes very very fun (and also with this i hope all the god damn hate comments shut lol) and does very cool things such as:

Roblox videos

(comment is from me lol, we'll get there soon) For right now these are just rating videos of her avatar, but I find them very fun (plus since I play roblox if needed I can help with filming lol)! Not much to say on it cause it's not a common kind of post, so onto the next form, which is:

2. Art

As you can see, she does very cool art, this one in particular is a tutorial on how to draw bodies. Is it the best? No, but the fact she's trying makes it great! (this is also where I've seen a couple hate comments come up, so yeah, I'm trying to be mature enough to not commit violence for her upon them) She does admit this video isn't her best work, but she does A LOT of very very cool drawings! Go check them out and her channel of course! There is one thing she also posts about which I love most of all...

3. Paper Dragons!!

(the first image is her first dragon, second is her most recent i think) I don't get how these things are "paper furries", but I do know THEY ARE SICK AS FUCK. I got to see one in person and they're very cool, all with different stories! I honestly wanna ask for one but right now, I'm gonna stick with watching them.

Channel link can be found here:

(this section was finished on january first of 2024, so at the point of this being posted she wont be over here, but i had her here so yeah :D i love my cousin)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Second channel:

Heartzzz.❤️ is my niece, and she does similar content, but still does good content! A couple of videos of Starz and Heartz are them promoting each other, so yeah. While she is on vacation and can't be here to give her reasons to subscribe to you, I certainly can!

Memes

One thing I forgot to mention my cousin doing (well, actually my cousin's section is just kinda old because it's from when she last came over, but she's back to help me again, yay!) is making memes like this. Sometimes they do involve a paper dragon, but I think they're pretty funny and/or relatable (also dragons very cool)!

2. Edits (and Undertale related things)

I'm putting these 2 in the same category just because of the example image above. While my cousin has recently started doing edits, Heartz is the only 1 of the 2 to make anything Undertale related. While the Undertale stuff comes once every blue moon it seems, that doesn't make it any less enjoyable.

I actually found in her description a run down on what she does post, so here:

Link to her channel can be found right here:

(okay ik this section was really short, again, she posts similar things to my cousin, and i didnt wanna repeat, so yeah, if you want more reason, here's what the cousin herself says: "[Heartz] is really nice, she's a good artist, and she's creative"; time i finished this section was 1/15/2024 lol)

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

third channel:

Boli and gang (or as their original user is + the profile picture says, Boli the bear) is the channel belonging to 2 kids I babysit! They're pretty new to making content, but they have a promising start already! Currently, their content consists of...

Animations

One of them has really been getting into animation, posting things like ball loops and such on their account. They're very interesting to watch personally!

2. Cool places

I'm not sure if this is going to be a common theme, but there is around 3-4 videos of places like this one. I have to admit, this has to be the prettiest of them all.

3. Art (+FNAF/Five Nights at Freddy's Content)

This is another one grouped together, but because this is the first drawing related one I've seen. They're very big FNAF fans, of course leading to things like this. Is it the best? No, but they tried very hard of course, and maybe you could leave some tips for them to improve with!

(they also post memes and funny videos, but I'd rather not do repetition; FINISHED THIS ALSO ON THE 15TH LETS GOOOOOOO)

Link to their channel can be found here:

Oh, one final reason, their profile picture is super cool! Can you guess who made it? This actually provides me with the perfect transition into...

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

fourth/final channel:

ITS ME!!! FINALLY I CAN STOP DOING PROPER ASS TYPING

yeah, i have a youtube now, and there's like nothing on it minus a couple videos. all of them are made back in like 2021-2022? cant really remember, but i posted them for younger me's sake. i have like a couple more to get through, but afterwards im probs gonna do a bigger variety of content! art videos, jrwi edits, animations, rambles, essays, you name it! (might even stream again on twitch if that seems what the people like lol)

you may want actual reasons to subscribe, but i currently dont have any. i can only make promises of better future content, but right now i can admit theyre shit. i dont post often, its only oc related rn, all very vague, nothing that interests most people on my blog (cause i know a lot of you are here for jrwi content, huh?). this channel, the choice to subscribe is fully up to you, im not gonna sell myself to it, im simply just saying its real.

Link to the channel is found here:

if you at all took the time to read through my part, i appreciate it, but please do actually check out the other 3. after all, you can always find me here, but you cant find the others anywhere else!

(FINISHED THE REST OF THE POST ON 1/15/24 LETS GOOOOOOOOO)

#chilling in solar lights #cheri's art findings #not my usual content #silli promo #dragon puppet #animator #support the artist #digital art #digital artist #digital artwork #digital drawing #puppeteer #just like a cool rock #idk how to tag this #just go check them out please #epic artist #silly billy goose #this will be spam reblogged someday soon #and that will be in this week #be ready guys lol #seperators may look weird #ignore it please

[palskippah]

Hi!

Some Mareach thoughts regarding their pining for the other because that's my favorite headcanon ever for them, especially if it's painfully obvious that they like the other.

It's all rambling sjdksj Sorry if it's confusing to read! It's just all my thoughts on the matter, and they're loosely based on the drawings I did jsjds

Also, this all may not be very coherent? In the sense of time and stuff, I wrote it on the spot, honestly sjsj

Now, Peach has been in love with Mario for a long time. Before he saved her for the first time, and maybe even before he became the helpful hero of the Mushroom Kingdom.

He was nice to her, respectful and liked to have fun- never mind that she was a princess. With her subjects Peach couldn't exactly run and jump and just play any time outside of the official games (unless it was little children, they loved it, but once they got bigger, they realized she was The Princess, and must be treated with excessive respect and distance, apparently), but with Mario she could get her nice, pink dress dirty with mud or with stains of green grass, get leaves in her hair, or overall be a mess, regardless of the situation. He'd just laugh with his equally dirty overalls, instead of fretting over her nice clothes being ruined.

They'd have simple competitions, who gets faster to that one tree about ten meters away? They'd push and shove to get there quicker, both using their abilities for it. Peach would levitate a rock for it to get in Mario's way, and Mario would jump very high to go past it easily. And whoever won earned a kiss from the loser (alright, Peach shamelessly set that rule, whatever for her to place her lips on Mario's round nose or to get his mustache to tickle her cheek when his lips placed a loud kiss on it).

It was fun and simple, and Peach felt truly relaxed and appreciated when she was with Mario, in a way that with her cousin Daisy or her father Toadsworth she just didn't. Her heart would beat faster, and she'd look forward to seeing Mario's blue eyes and his silly nose and his handsome mustache. And to hear his accented sweet voice, or to see him communicate with gestures, where Peach would do her absolute best to interpret it the best she could.

To simply be by Mario's side could made Peach's whole day.

After she was rescued though, she saw him in a new light- a heroic (and very handsome-) light. He fought against a koopa many times his size and simply flung him out by the tail! Then Mario effortlessly lifted her in his arms and ran her to safety. Mario kind of literally swept her off her feet, and Peach felt that she fell a little more in love with him, in a way that she knew she never would be able to forget or be able to get over it.

But something Peach is very glad of, it's that there's no need to forget or get over it, because Mario likes her too. A lot it seems. The first time he saved her, and once they were back at the castle, Mario seemed to reach for his hat to do a playful bow as he usually did for the princess, but Peach was excited and loved him so much and felt so cared for, that she impulsively leaned in and kissed him on the nose, halting Mario's movements. She muttered in a sweet, loving voice: "Thank you, Mario."

And by the stars, the way Mario's cheeks went pink and his eyes bright, as if something wonderful just happened to him, made Peach's heart sing in happiness. Could this mean that he could love her too?

So, Peach started to be clear in her intentions. She'd be sweeter, she'd get him gifts, and treat him like a king that deserved everything in the world. Because to her, Mario did deserve everything and more. Peach invited him exclusively to eat cake with her, they woudl go to picnics on their own ,to enjoy each other's company. And Peach would very tentatively reach his hand when she could or kiss his face if the situation allowed it, even staright up hugging him, with no excuse or reason to (simply because she wanted!)

To any outsider, it was clear the princess was courting Mario, but to Mario, it was just his good friend being more friendly, which was great! He was very glad to be a closer friend to Peach. So, Mario started returning the efforts, he'd give her silly things he found that reminded him of her or make the time to spend his afternoons with her. He'd be more affectionate in the way Peach was, saying outright what he liked of her or cheering for her in enthusiasm at their games (Mario saying, "I love you, I love you so much!" while clapping).

But it didn't go past that.

Peach wasn't sure if Mario was being oblivious or she wasn't being clear enough- But he'd blush and do silly dances when she said something particularly sweet to him, and his eyes would soften when looking up at her. So, Peach was very confused. Why, even when she said, "I love you, Mario", he answered with an enthusiastically, "I love you too, principessa!" and... that was it. As if Mario just didn't notice that Peach was trying to go somewhere with all their courting (Thinking about the "we look like a couple :3" "A couple of besties! :D").

I'm thinking that ever since they became friends, Mario has had at least a little crush on Peach, and how could he not? She's so beautiful, and nice, and funny. Mario doesn't think she'd be interested in him in a romantic sense though, because he knows very well she cares about him! But romantically? Princess Peach could have anyone she wanted, and there must be other royals more worthy of her love. So, why choose Mario? What could he possibly give her that another guy or woman in a much higher position couldn't?

Mario is very sure of himself in some ambits, and then in others not so much. When time goes on, he truly believes he's worthy of being Peach's hero, because he's strong, agile, he can jump very high, he's smart too! If Peach is in trouble, he will find a solution or a way to rescue her and make sure she's okay. He trusts his physical abilities very much, that's why he trains and does his best to be as strong as he can! What else can Mario give Peach if he can't be useful for her safety-

But he doesn't think he's good enough to be anything else besides that. Because Mario isn't worthy to hold her hand simply because he wants to, unless he's pulling her and running away from danger. And Mario couldn't just hold Peach in his arms in the way a bride is held by the groom, because he only does that if he needs to get Peach away from a castle or danger, again. Or to kiss her cheek just because he wanted to show her his fondness, without having to purposely lose their races.

Mario just wasn't good enough for that, and it always made him realize that no matter what he did, he'd never feel worthy, because he'll always just be Mario, Mushroom Kingdom's and Peach's hero. And Mario was okay with that, really. And what difference does it make, anyway, if Peach doesn't feel the same way. She was so sweet and considerate, always looking out for people she cared about. Mario was just very glad that he was in that group of people that Peach deeply cared for. And he knew he was there, because she did so many nice things for him! Bake him a cake, even when he didn't help her in any significant way prior to it, or hug him out of nowhere or look at him sweetly- it was as if they were dating! And it made Mario immensely happy, because if he tried hard enough, it was as if Peach only had eyes for him, and only did nice, sweet things for him. And looked at him with her beautiful sky-blue eyes, full of love for Mario, as if they were boyfriend and girlfriend.

When he saved her for the first and she kissed him and looked at him as if he was something precious and loving, he felt that maybe Peach could see him as a romantic partner, worthy of very nice things and very nice people such as Peach. But then she said, "You are my hero!" and that hope shattered, because right- hero, Mario was a hero. He was good in helping and saving the day and that's why people liked him! That's why Peach appreciated him too. So, Mario smiled brightly anyways and jumped in joy, because he's happy to be Peach's hero!

In the privacy of his own room, Mario would allow himself to feel sad about the matter, about feeling too little like a person and too much like a hero sometimes. Hoping it could be the other way, or maybe both ways. Anything so Peach could think of Mario and be pleased with the person he was, rather in all the things he could do. (Does that even make sense? it's me, Kym, asking ASJKJS)

And you can bet that Luigi was witnessing all of this, especially Peach's fruitless courting, and Mario's lovesick pining. He'd see the princess acting in the same way a loving partner would, and Mario relishing in the attention, very clearly in love. And then Mario would say something that sounded way to close to friend-zoning, and Peach would look briefly caught off-ward, most likely confused.

And Luigi couldn't blame her, when Mario himself didn't think she was courting him! The idiot (both affectionate and derogatory) didn't have enough confidence to think a princess could like (and love) him. Alright, well, if Luigi had a royal person hopelessly in love with him, he wouldn't believe it either- because he's just little ol' Luigi! Nothing special. But Mario? He was the specialest guy around! But he was so insecure too and wouldn't just see that Peach was almost desperately trying to get him to see that she loved him and wanted to be much more than just friends.

For God's sake, she said 'I love you' to Mario, directly to his face, and not even that seemed to change his thoughts of not being good enough or her not wanting anything besides friendship. Worst part, Luigi had to see his bro pining in their house, sighing, thinking of the princess, and out loud wondering what she was doing. He'd always be thinking of her, Peach this and Peach that- And it's not that it bothered Luigi or angered him, it's just that it was frustrating! The woman was right there! Peach could be with a huge MARIO, WANNA BE MY BOYFRIEND? <3 sign right outside their house and Mario would ask Luigi for which brother it was.

It frustrated him and made him feel sorry for his bro. Mario had something so good right in front of him, and due to his insecurity, he couldn't allow himself to see it.

After months and months of implying a relationship and Mario just, not noticing, Peach started to realize that... maybe Mario just didn't feel the same way. And maybe he just didn't know how to let her know it. Maybe Mario was being nice and returning her efforts just to not hurt her feelings, when all he wanted was to just remain friends. It made Peach feel so sad and so ashamed, had she just been forcing her feelings on Mario? A worse thought crossed her mind, has she been making him uncomfortable with her actions? And all these months...., Peach wouldn't forgive herself if that was the case. Maybe all those blushes and soft eyes and shy smiles were just the things she wanted to see.

Stars, she had to fix it. So, Peach stopped inviting Mario on his own to her castle and baking a cake with his favourite flavors in mind, and started inviting both brothers and also friends. She stopped leaning to hug him or kiss him, and when they'd win or lose races, Peach changed the rule into a high-five, meeting Mario's kissy lips with her palm the first time it happened. She truly hoped her efforts of a romantic relationship could just be forgotten, and not affect their friendship.

Mario was devastated with the change in Peach's behavior. She no longer invited him to the castle, and he didn't receive any more letters with 'Come to the castle, I've baked you a cake! <3', and the worst part- when he ran especially slow to get to kiss Peach in the cheek, and he was right about to do it, Peach's hand received him instead of her face. She smiled cheerfully and said, "Let's do high-fives from now on, yes?'

It was as if Mario's heart shattered- it was the last piece in the puzzle that indicated that he was no longer as loved as he used to be by the princess. Mario was treated like, like Luigi was! Which, honestly, was still very good, but! Mario used to be special! Peach used to treat him like he was someone noteworthy and worthy of the nicest gifts and her nicest smiles, and now it was no longer... If there was a little sliver of hope in Mario that they could be something, it was entirely gone. Now he couldn't even pretend that she loved him romantically, and it made him so, so sad.

Was it something he did? Mario should just ask, shouldn't he? God, but he just couldn't, he was a coward. What if Peach told him she no longer liked him at all, and was trying to slowly distance herself, and she actually hated Mario now?! Obviously, Mario was being dramatic, but he just wanted to explain why Peach no longer treated him in a special way...

That's all I've got 🧍

#super mario bros #my art #my writing #(new tag sjdsj) #mareach #princess peach #mario mario #luigi mario #I swear insecure Mario over things so obvious and untrue is my favortie #because he's alwasy seen as very confident and good with himself skdjsd #also when they finally get together they're always being very lovey-dovey and Mario makes sure to use every chance he has to love Peach #if you read everything god bless you aslkdalsds #also luigi having the same doubts is nice too because I like bowuigi so he's gonna be in a similar position soon SJDKSJ

[sepublic]

The Owl House's Ending Anniversary...

So it's officially been one whole year since The Owl House ended.

One year ago, I wondered how I would move on. How I would keep going. But I also knew I would, no matter what, because time keeps going on. Things will eventually pass, they always do, that's how so many moments and days for me have gone. Even entire periods of my life.

So I'm not surprised how things have gone on since then; I still had plenty more things to say about TOH, and I still love it just as I have. I've gotten new hyperfixations, and even returned to old ones as some of you can see with recent posts, so it's only a matter of time before TOH circles back again.

And man does it feel so slow, only to feel so brief, it really feels like this anniversary has snuck up on and surprised me! And once again, we have some other, appropriate event lined up; A solar eclipse on this anniversary! Luckily there's no sigils nor coven heads gathered to make me worry. But dang, it was raining in Connecticut when Luz returned there, and it was the rebirth of Jesus when Luz was resurrected.

Makes me wonder if anyone of the Boiling Isles, justifiably, has had PTSD from solar eclipses, and dreaded any that showed up, despite knowing it couldn't happen again. People must've held their breaths the entire time during the first eclipse, panicked at even the slightest fatigue, and then it passed and they realized it really was impermanent and over. And that there was another step towards moving on, which I guess I can relate to now, though this is something I'm much less happy to see gone.

I think a lot about how TOH has influenced both me and my writing, how I approach characters and stories now. I've found myself gravitating more and more towards personal, character-driven stories and situations now. I still have a bit of a taste for grander-scale stuff, but TOH was special for me in that it feels like the first time I really got and understood a show and its characters from the ground-up as I experienced it all in real time. The first time I truly grasped themes and character arcs and could make reasoned predictions based on those, some of which came true! It really feels like THE big start of my media literacy in a way?

It's been fun looking back at TOH as a 'whole' work more or less to reevaluate, and learning other things behind-the-scenes about the show. We've had a few more livestreams and stuff confirmed. Dana's done more drawings, including on her Patreon.

I haven't been writing as much TOH stuff lately, and tbf I've already said soooo much. I might have other, new things to say later down the line, and I do have a few thoughts I've written in notes that maybe could be fully-fledged posts in their own right. I've found comparisons to protagonists of other media, like Miles Morales, or Arin from Ninjago.

The Owl House still is and will probably always be something truly special to me; It feels like my first real fandom experience. My first time understanding and learning a show, appreciating it as it develops and even as I speculate. It broadened my tastes and horizons, my ability to participate with others in stuff.

I miss it; I miss new episodes, new developments. I'm still agonized over things that could've been, things I would've loved to see more of. I'm apprehensive over whether we'll get that Raeda prequel because I don't wanna get my hopes up. Plus Dana needs a well-deserved break and is trying and experimenting with new, different things. And I get that.

It's bittersweet, it's scary, it's freeing, it's sad, it's happy. I've gone so far, this show and fandom has gone so far. And it'll keep going, it has to, time keeps marching on. Luz had to lose her father Manny, process that, but still keep going and must be surprised looking back how much she's adjusted since then, how much she's still grown and gained and learned, while still holding him dear; The same applies for the Titan and the magic she once wielded. With grief and acceptance being a core theme in this show, I'm not surprised that it prepped up the viewers to do the same, and now we have.

And you know what? I'm gonna keep going on, like Luz Noceda, possibly my favorite protagonist of all time, one of the greats and a huge inspiration now for how I really want to write and focus on my own protagonists, too. I'm gonna keep doing this like it never ended. The rate and frequency might fluctuate, but every now and then I'll have things to say, and stuff to drop by and check, such as with the tag and the occasional trending post, others' reblogs, and so forth.

So again, thanks to Dana and the crew. Thanks to Luz Noceda, Eda Clawthorne, King Clawthorne, and the other many, many characters! Luz's story is one where it feels like the show really is about her at its core and wraps around to her, and I want to do a story one day that accomplishes the same feeling. And as I see how Dana has been inspired by past influences, I can't help but look forward to future generations and stories that will themselves have been inspired by The Owl House, I know I've been already, retroactively applying it to things that were already fairly compatible to begin with, and really needed the fresh breath of new inspiration.

I'm repeating a lot of the same things I've said last year. Will I say the same stuff another whole year from now? I'll see. But until next time... BBBBYYYYYYEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

#the owl house #ramblings #meta #nostalgia #psa #the owl house anniversary

[ash-asteroid]

Hi, I redesigned the season 7 causal fits + Roxy

Redesigns

Og (based Roxy's off of this outfit)

Feel free to do whatever if the designs (just don't take the art without asking.) And if you make fanart or anything I'd like credit and maybe tell me because I'd love to see it 👀

Anyway

Gonna ramble on the designs I did for a bit because I feel like it. Sorry for bad writing. I don't write often and can't put my thoughts into words.

Aisha- I wanted that sporty girl vibe and found sporty clothing with a sports jacket. I think she's slays in it. Didn't change her hair because I liked how it was.

Stella- Wasn't sure what vibe I wanted, so I just looked up "leo outfits" on pintrest. Stuff like this popped up everywhere, and I think it would be nice if Stella wore something other than dresses and skirts. Because as the queen of fashion, she can and will rock everything. I accidentally made her hair more wavy because I'm used to drawing wavy hair. But maybe it's just a change of pace for her.

Bloom- Okay, so I might have based this Bloom off Unicorn of War's Bloom. So she's a tired artist. Wearing more comfy than fashionable clothes.Flora- Not much to say. I just wanted Flora in a big dress because she deserves it. Cottagecore Flora vibes.

Musa- For Musa, I based her outfit off of Chinese street fashion because, in my opinion, it fits her. I also changed her main color of the designs from blue and pinks back to red. Because I think she works better in reds.

Tecna- First, I wanted to change Tecna's hair. Since Believix she's had the same hairstyle minus a few differences. So I just made it shorter, because we need a least one girl without stupidly long hair. I losely based her outfit off a business causal vibe. She has a T in her jacket for Tecna/Technology (She thinks it's neat).

Roxy- Roxy is a little different from her usual vibe. But I wanted to call back to the school uniforms in Roxy because she would be in her 3rd year of Alfea at this point. So it would make the most sense for her to wear it. So I gave her more of an academia vibe but tried giving it Roxy's vibe. I made her hair a little redder because she looked too much like Tecna.

Hi, thanks for reading my rambles. I did this because I accidentally rewriting some of season 7 causally in my head. And sometime after Halloween, I'll share my thoughts in a big post, hopefully. It's not a full rewrite, mainly the transformations. And a little on the villains and charcter arcs.

#winx aisha #winx stella #winx bloom #winx flora #winx musa #winx tecna #winx roxy #winx #winx club #winx season 7 #winx club season 7 #winx redesign #wimx club redesign

[phntmeii]

♡ Dating Miles Morales Headcanons:

❝ Okay, let's do this one last time, yeah? For real this time. This is it. My name is Miles Morales. ❝

[SFW Headcanons + No Gendered Terms]

A/N: UGH!! Precious bby boy <3 <3 He deserves the whole world and more. This was honestly one of the cuter headcanon lists I’ve done so far. Absolute wholesome points.

> God, Miles having a crush is absolutely adorable because he becomes a straight up MESS! He cannot stop thinking about you at all. It stresses him out because what if you don’t feel that way??

> Miles would find whatever time he can to hang out or talk to you. He’ll “accidentally” bump into you in the hall or he “coincidentally” met up at the same park.

> He’s trying so hard to be smooth but it always falls flat because he doubts himself.

> Finding out you liked him back blew his mind because you???? Like him???? It’s incomprehensible to him because how can someone as perfect as you like him???

> Miles is giggling and kicking his feet while listening to love songs in his room after you confess. He’s a pure lover boy.

> As Spider-man , he’s sneaking around during night patrols to check in on you and make sure you make it home safe.

> Miles is quite observant and ends up picking up on some of your habits/fidgeting. He doesn’t notice that he mirrors you at all and would deny it completely if you brought it up.

> “Whaaat? Psshh… Nah, I wouldn’t do… something… like that…” *sweating nervously*

> His life can be overwhelming sometimes and he always just relies on you to make him feel better. Late night calls just to talk or vent while laying in your separate beds, a ways away from each other.

> He would be SO nervous for you to meet his parents because consider it a job interview the way they immediately sit you down and ask a million questions at once. What school you go to, your dreams/future career, asking about extracurriculars and how many honors classes you have.

> They only do it because they want Miles to have the best but they kinda forget how intimidating it is to be interrogated by a cop and a Latina mother LMAOO

> It would take a while before he reveals he’s Spider-man to you if you weren’t a Spider-person yourself. It’s not because he doesn’t trust you but because he doesn’t want you to get hurt.

> He would have you promise it to be a secret between the two of you.

> He definitely has tried to do the upside-down kiss with you before he had to scurry off but heard his dad’s voice at the scene and accidentally dropped down.

> Miles’ main Love Languages to give are: Quality Time and Gift Giving.

> Miles knows he can be pretty busy. Juggling classes and being Spiderman keeps him in a constant move.

> So when he does get time with you, he wants it to feel special. Like nothing else exists in that moment except you two.

> He’ll swing by on a patrol and sweep you up to a rooftop just to spend time together. He always has a goofy smile when he takes off his mask and shows off the mini picnic he set up.

> Miles loves to give you gifts all the time. Nothing too expensive or anything but stuff he makes.

> He’d be too embarrassed to show you his sketchbook but he’d give sketches of you and notes on loose paper. All the drawings are lined in pen and sometimes colored in alcohol markers.

> Absolutely makes you playlists to listen to. Whether it was because you asked for recommendations or because he wanted to, he’s making one over the course of a week w/ a minimum of 30 songs.

> One of the playlists is definitely a romantic playlist, all with songs that make him think of you with each lyric.

> When his parents learned about the relationship, his mom was the first one to sit him down and tell him how he needs to get you flowers and stuff.

> So the next time you show up at a family event, you just see Rio smiling to you while she’s nudging Miles with her elbow as he holds a full bouquet for you.

> OHHH HE LOVES MATCHING BRACELETS!!! He will make them and then never take his off. His will have a nickname of yours while yours will either say “Miles” or “Spidey”.

> Miles’ favorite Love Languages to receive are: Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation.

> Miles tends to be… all over the place. So, he loves when he gets a helping hand from time to time.

> Covering for him when he’s late to something, helping out in studying, giving answers to homework, stuff like that.

> He appreciates his stress levels being eased even with small things like that. He’ll never ask for those things himself but he loves to have you do them and he’ll always make it up to you afterwards!

> Miles also has ease in getting blushy and flustered with his partner so compliments and flirting are definitely the way to get him to be head over heels.

> “Stop..!” *looks away, scratching the back of his neck and nervously laughing* “… You mean it?”

> It’s also the best way to reassure him! He can overthink sometimes and worry that he isn’t doing enough or doing something wrong so hearing how much you loved something he’s done encourages him a good bit!

⤷ divider credits: @cafekitsune

#miles kinda ate in the recent movie ngl #the way he was just elbowing the fuck out of miguel??? as u should #itsv #atsv #miles morales #atsv headcanons #atsv miles #miles morales headcanons #atsv x reader #itsv miles #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x you #spiderman atsv

[pearlofthesirens]

You're Mine- Valeria x Fem!Reader(wlw)

my first ever wlw fic!! i feel like valeria doesn't get much love in the fandom either but i'm ready to be gay for her.

summary: Valeria is not afraid to show you that she loves you, even if it means to drop her tough girl attitude outside your lovely household

pairing: Valeria Garza x Fem!Reader

warnings: she/her pronouns used, internalized homophobia, slight cursing

now playing: Sofia by Clairo

word count: 1208 words(one thousand two hundred and eight words)

"I-I cannot explain why I feel this way."

"It's supposed to be wrong but I cannot stop it."

"I think I'm in love with you, Val."

Love. It was such a strange word to her, yet she never got tired of hearing it. What did it mean anyway? Caring for someone? She cared for her men, her money, the drugs she smuggles into the country, and she definitely did care for the reputation she had in Las Almas. But did she love them? Did she love all this?

A simple answer would be no. Because in a singular word, El Sin Nombre could easily say that her love was that one person who would place gentle kisses on her face and help her relax after a long day of dealing with shit at her job. Her love was that one person who kept an extra rubber band around her wrist just in case she needed to tie her hair, which usually rested in a overgrown bob around her face. Her love was the one she came home to, the one scurrying around in the kitchen to cook her childhood favorite. It was you.

"Need you, mi amor."

"Come here, Val."

Valeria couldn't help but instantly melt in your arms, her tactical vest and gloves discarded messily on the living room floor. She knew she might have to hear her girlfriend nag at her for it, but your sweet voice was worth it.

"Your stuff."

"Later, cariño. Just give me some love right now, won't you?"

You let out a small huff, the look of disbelief on your face when Valeria laid her head on your lap, expectant of some physical affection. Nevertheless, your lips turned upwards and your fingers immediately hooked onto her hair, gently swiping through her black strands as she let out a sigh.

Valeria did not regret a single moment she was with you, ever since you two met in middle school. Best friends was what everyone would call you two, till she started to get pissed about guys hitting on you. Why should they? You're so innocent, they're probably trying to take advantage of it. Her protectiveness was so evident, everywhere you'd go she would be there to hold your hand and lead you.

You didn't understand the blooming feeling inside your chest until it started to hurt more than you could take. It couldn't be, right? The kind of feelings girls felt for boys, not girls. It was wrong, everyone said it was wrong. Then why did it happen to you? Were you supposed to feel guilty about it?

Valeria was more upfront about how she felt, declaring that she was a single and proud. Yet every time she saw your face smiling back at her, she could feel all the air kicked out of her lungs. Her heartstrings felt violently tugged at whenever you found a wild flower to tuck behind her ear. Or the times you would sit with your face close to hers, focusing on drawing her eyeliner perfectly as her eyes were fixed on your glossy lips. Feeling for your best friend was so cliche, how did she find herself in the same damn situation as those lame telenovelas?

Confessing to her was tougher than when you had to count money at the market for groceries, you were never good at math. Valeria would laugh and return you the change, coins clinging against each other after she sorted out the price of whatever trinket you wanted to buy, not without bargaining a little. Saw a little ring? Cannot be too much, a pretty girl like you deserves it. A small cat carved out of wood? You shouldn't pay, consider it as a gift from your best friend.

It wasn't until you were crying in her arms, tired of the world beating you down, that you realized how you much you had actually fallen for her. Yes, it was love indeed. Pure romantic love. Her arms around you, her gentle voice consoling you, everything she did just increased the urge you had to kiss her on that spot.

"It's okay, life gets shitty sometimes."

"Val, I-"

"No, it's okay. I'm happy to be there for you, you're my best friend after all-"

"No Valeria listen!"

She was surprised to see you raise your voice for the first time since you two met, you were never like this. There certainly must be something that had been bothering you for a long time.

"This will come off very weird to you and I don't even know why I'm feeling this. But it is happening and I don't know how to stop or handle this. It's just so hard."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm in love with you, Val. And not in the way I say that I love you when you're being friendly. I'm in love with you like I want to kiss you and pull you closer and tell you about my day"

"Hold on, wait what-?"

It was as if her heart had erupted like a volcano at your words. You loved her? Is that what you were feeling all this time? Those shy glances and making paper rings for her, did all of it mean this?

"I cannot explain why I feel this way but I do..and it hurts so bad to ignore it.."

Standing alone at the balcony of your house, you let the cool breeze mess up your freshly dried hair from the shower. Your smile grew wider when you felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist, gently pulling you back to their owner. Valeria rested her chin on your shoulder, your cheek pressed against her head as you two stood with your back against her chest.

"Do you know how much I love you with your hair down like this, mi amor?"

"I don't think you've ever failed to let me know how much you love me, baby."

"Hmm good. You're mine."

"All yours, love."

"Munequita, you don't know how much I love you."

"I love you too, Val."

Her hands immediately spun you around to face her, one hand on your waist and the other behind your head. You let out a giggle, keeping your arms around her neck. Her brown eyes always softened for you, never once she had thought about treating you with anything but love. The strong hands made to hold a gun could also touch you like you were made of glass.

"Val?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for always being there for me."

It was Valeria's turn to giggle, smiling ear to ear as she lowered herself closer to you. Her thumb gently kneaded your waist, your warm breath hitting her lips.

"You know I'm here to stay, right? Wouldn't have done otherwise, cariño."

The last thing you saw was how her cheeks flushed a little before a pair of lips smashed against yours, earning a little yelp from you. She could feel you smiling in the kiss, not letting her tongue take control yet. Only Valeria knew that she couldn't stop even if she wanted to. She wanted to feel you, all of you, and your love. A single kiss wasn't enough, it was never going to be enough.

proofread ✓

pearly venus, 18:20 240330

#pearly venus #cod #cod fanfic #valeria garza #valeria cod #valeria mw2 #valeria x reader #valeria x fem!reader #valeria fluff #valeria x you #wlw #wlw fanfic #valeria wlw

[vendetta-ari]

as an avid velvette lover, i gotta ask about your hcs for her, give me the silly random shit, smut WHATEVER- i just need more of HER (and ideas to doodle)

AAA HI I LOVE YOUR ART AND THIS ASK WAS SO MUCH FUN TO DO OMFG :3

Theese headcanons are all over the place, they also include a bit of Vox and Valentino, they're everywhere so apologies in advance!! (Bit of NSFW) enjoy!!!

~ Velvette can't spell for shit, ok this is random but this poor girl cant help to save her life

~ She is the typa girl to sing I'm the shower (really fucking loudly mind you) and sometimes you cheer her on outside the shower.

~ Her favorite types of movies are musicals, more specifically Heathers (me too girl)

~ As much as she loves extravagant dates she prefers cozy movie dates with you, feeding each other chocolate strawberries and all that stuff.

~ Her favorite season is summer, and her favorite holiday?

~ “My favorite holiday? Well obviously it's my birthday! why wouldn't it be” 

~ She likes drawing sometimes, she sketches in her journal, usually outfit designs but sometimes other stuff too.

~ More specifically you. you looked through her journal while she was at work once and there were a hell of a lot of sketches with you, a few of her sketches were both of you with little hearts around them, and a few pages with you modeling her outfit ideas.

~ Velvette used to take you both to clubs, but you got hit on one too many times and she refuses to take you to one ever again.

~ Every year she throws the most crazy halloween party where everyone gets drunk, her last halloween costume was a female (kinda slutty) ghostface costume

~ Her halloween parties usually go south immediately, Valentino is trying to get everyone to work for him and is high out of his mind, he's been staring at the ceiling lamp for an hour.

~ Vox is chugging alcohol and is getting way too drunk, he's glitching out every sentence. He's calling carmilla drunk and telling her what a bitch she is apparently, carmilla Is used to this and ain't amused, she's gonna block his number soon.

~ As for Velvette she's recording everyone's stupidity and mostly sober, had a few hits of weed and about four shots, but she can handle alcohol pretty well so you aren't too worried.

~ As for you, you stay near Velvette's side, watching it all burn. you don't usually leave her side

~ Not that you need to though, Velvette is pretty much anything you'll ever need <3

~ She gifted you a collar once and she gets all pissy at you when you take it off, you don't normally use it during sex but there are a few occasions.

~ The collar is purple and red with a silver lining, it's kinda tight around your neck but, whatever makes Velvette happy I suppose 

~ She hosts Christmas parties too, they're a bit more chill because it's less people but Val is drinking the entire bottle of eggnog, vox is asleep on the couch with an ugly Christmas sweater he was forced to put on (I hc him not liking Christmas too much. (request vox headcanons pls) And Velvette's giving people incredibly stupid gifts for the gift exchange.

~ during her breaks she usually eats lunch, and bitches about her day (Mainly just Val and Vox) while you sit in between/on her thighs

~ As for drawing ideas, I like the idea of Velvette painting your nails all these pretty colors :3

~Another idea I like is just velvette pulling the most sadistic pranks on val, bc let's be real he deserves it (as for what the prank is idk)

~ Also istg I'd pay to see art of the Halloween party mentioned earlier (on a side note, I love your art it's really good omfg 😭)

(Word count: 517)

Had a lotta fun doing this, hope you enjoyed too!

-xoxo, Ari

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel fluff #hazbin hotel romantic #romantic #fluff #smut #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette #the vees #vox hazbin hotel #valentino hazbin hotel

[mtkay13]

Qi Ye ensemble cast poster, second edition

Yet another one of those LOL Qi Ye just has that power over me. You know the drill; more info below!

I'll go straight to the point: my main reason to draw this was because I wanted to draw the most somber, dark-looking Helian Qi possible with some dark cross-hatching effect. And because I don't want to draw a Helian Qi solo image because who the HELL does that, I had to turn it into an ensemble cast thing again. I just REALLY like to do that for Qi Ye, for some reasons!!! For a general note, first: shading was a PAIN but making a nice composition and thinking about how to make a hierarchy that both works in terms of storytelling and visual composition was fun. I also liked finding out the "color scheme" to use and I do like lineart. So, now, little notes about each character, and the obligatory name poster just so I'm sure we all know whom I'm talking about:

Jing Beiyuan: I've mentioned it before but drawing Beiyuan is like. The easiest for me, I think, out of ALL Qi Ye/TYK characters combined. He happens to have my general goto "pretty face" (which conveniently has peach blossom eyes). I'm happy with how he turned out here! And got to put the sable around his neck which makes for a nice additional touch. Helian Yi: He's easy to draw as well and I'm glad with how the guan turned out. He initally looked sideways, but I liked it better having him wistfully stare into the distance. Helian Zhao: has the exact same face as in the other, coloured poster, and that cracks me up bc that wasn't even intentional. Helian Pei: GDI I find him so hilarious. He looks so done and out of it. Shout out to all his bird as well, which, I find, really complete the look. Helian Qi: I can't possibly say that I love him as an antagonist because there's nothing to love about this literal trash, but I'm still grateful that we got some of the most rancid stuff going on in Qi Ye just because of him and I'm always here for that. He deserves the villain visual treatment, at least. He was VERY fun to draw and I tried to push that nasty grin and shading as much as possible. He turned out exactly how I wanted him to! (the shading on his face and the balance of light and shadow was a bit of a challenge, actually)

Wuxi: Again, a rather easy one, always pleasant to draw! I loved working on his hair (but complained a lot while doing so)--which I think turned out nicely. Bai Wuchang: Finally! Finally I draw him!! He had to be there, since he's like. The base of the whole Qi Ye plot. Lining him was....... a pain, but at least it looks nice.

Su Qingluan: nothing much to say--I think it's always important to have her there in Qi Ye stuff, and I put her next to Helian Zhao because of how he tried using her--but it did make me feel bad for her when I realised that. Song Ping'an: The real star of the show, lowkey, but always alert and present. Feng Xiaoshu: FINALLY. PRINCESS JING'AN. I'm sorry I took so long to draw her. I want to work on a proper design, I swear. To make up for having completely forgotten to include her in the other spread. I'm so sorry. I like how her face turned out! Liang Jiuxiao: I never, ever, EVER get enough of drawing him. Have I mentioned how much I like him? How much of a great surprise he was reading Qi Ye? How many times I've wanted to high five because finally someone is as confused as I am? I love drawing this very specific smile on him, SO satisfying. Also Bichen said he was "THE Qi Ye antagonist" and I live for that LOL Zhou Zishu: do I really need to say anything atp Jiang Xue: I'm so sorry I put Xiao Xue next to ZZS. The cruelty. But she came out really cute didn't she T_T Anyway that's it. I'm still obsessed with Qi Ye and given my current (totally secret) retranslation project I'm nowhere near done going crazy about this book.

#qi ye #jing beiyuan #wuxi #bai wuchang #helian yi #helian pei #helian zhao #helian qi #su qingluan #ping'an #princess jing'an #liang jiuxiao #zhou zishu #jiang xue

[firefly--bright]

Reiner Braun modern headcanons!!!

a/n : the jean one I did did pretty well as a post, so I decided to do for my babygirl too (19 yr old war criminal) :)

warnings : none!

tagging : @mrsnobodynobody

✿ main masterlist is linked in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist! ✿ requests are open! ✿

• loves animals. TO DEATH like if he sees any stray puppies or kitties, he will rescue them immediately. he'll pull over just to get out of the car and save the babes

• piggybacking off of that, he's also a foster dad for these pets. like he'd take them in. he has two cats and they're kind of on the old side (because he felt bad just leaving them at the shelter), one of them has grey and white fur and he's named her McFlurry (yes) and the other one is actually a cat you and him adopted together - an orange tabby that the two of you named calcifer (from howls moving castle :) )

• used to play like all sports during his entire academic life. he's played so many sports at this point like you'd think you know a niche sport that you didn't think he'd know the name of? he's played it. even rugby.

• hates the way his nose looks, but starts loving it more after you develop a habit of tracing the contours of his nose with your thumb (it makes him sleep too)

• loves to cook! he'd make any experimental recipies that he found from an obscure source on Pinterest. it almost always turns out good but if it doesn't then he tweaks it up until it tastes good.

• like jean, he's kind of not really into physical touch at first, but the more you show it, the more he falls in love with your touch.

• extroverted introvert. feels the need to be nice and be friends with everyone (literally knows everyone you've ever bumped into) but he prefers to stay in and not talk instead. he's glad he gets to sit in silence with you because he feels fully comfortable with that.

• strangers to friends to lovers typa guy (I have a fanfic idea for this but I'm too lazy to write it), like he's seen you before and because he feels the need to know everyone's names and stuff, he decides to befriend you. he's not boisterous or cocky or overconfident, he's actually really nice and down to earth. you start getting closer, he starts working at the same place you work at, which brings you even closer and he falls in love

• and he falls HARD like. when you ask him if he can remember the one point in time where he realised he was in love with you, he doesn't have an answer, because with him, its kinda like... he fell for you in a collection of moments. like you brushed his hair away from his face and he's like "oh that's nice" and then you gave him a thoughtful gift for his birthday, again, he was like "oh that's...super nice" - just little moments like that made him Realize™

• has a complicated relationship with his mom but they're on okay terms now, like apart from the usual motherly criticisms, they're doing pretty well!

• blushes like a damn tomato. he cannot hide if he's flustered for the life of him.

• he tries to hide it, but he LOVES being pampered. he loves it when you massage his shoulders, he loves it when you put those under eye masks on him, loves it when you draw a bath for him, etc. like at first he feels,,, kind of like a burden when you do those things for him, but he slowly starts to think that maybe, just maybe, he deserves this.

• super patient. if you're having a bad day or something, not only does he immediately take notice, he'll wait for you. he'll ask if you want to talk about it or if you just want him to be there, and if you say you want space, he'll give it to you and wait for you to come to him when you need him.

• he knows how to braid hair because of Gabi. when he was 17, he'd braid gabi's hair into two pigtails whenever she came over to their house for the summer. (he's her favourite cousin and vice versa but both won't admit it to eachother)

• loves to knit!!!!! his ideal date is literally just cozying up on the couch with some blankets and hot chocolate or soup and just. knitting. if you like knitting or crocheting too then bonus points!

• speaking of knitting, he also wears chunky sweaters that his mom made for him. warm toned, chunky and soft sweaters are literally all his closet is made up of. except in the summers, he wears loose fitting tank tops in the summer heat.

• religious note-taker. if you share a class with him, expect him to furiously take notes at a godly speed every class. and it's not even a messy handwriting, it's actually recognisable letters that are pretty easy to understand. he'd give those notes to anyone who missed class that day.

• people rely on him alot, and at first in highschool he kind of felt pressured by it, but he's grown into that role. he's a gentle leader.

• speaks german. you'll find him speaking in German to Gabi and his mom whenever they call <3

• speaking of calls, he only picks up if it's a loved one calling him. Gabi sometimes calls him just to annoy him after her school day is over and she's just roaming around the house. at this point Reiner knows all the gossip in gabi's middle school, being super attentive when Gabi talks about her school. like he knows ALL the lore.

• loves watching those relaxing vlogs. like those cooking vlogs with nice music in the background and captions instead of voiceovers. he loves those.

• has prescription glasses only for reading <3

• overthinks so hard. like even if he goes out of his way to talk to and know people more, he hates the after-conversation anxiety that comes with it.

• when he kisses you, he kinda hugs you. like his hands aren't on your waist, they kinda wrap around your back and shoulder and his hands are spread out so that he feels more of your skin.

• loves calling you dove or angel, cause that's exactly what you are to him.

• talks with his hands, very expressive with his conversations. it's very easy to know when he's uncomfortable/doesn't like someone he's talking to when his hands are crossed over his chest.

• he writes. like journals all his feelings out. just like his note-taking, he's very on routine about it. every night, or every other night, he'd sit down at his desk and use the pen he's kept especially for this journal, and describe the day in detail. it helps him alot :)

• he kinda does this small little,,, soft exhale when he smiles. like his lips don't quirk up fully, but you know he's smiling because of that small sound.

• full bellied laughter kinda guy. you crack a terrible joke and he starts out letting a small tiny laugh at it and then it turns into a chuckle and then the next thing you know, he's clutching his stomach and wiping the tears from the corner of his eye because he's laughing so much. which is so ???? you tell him it wasn't even that funny but to him it very much Was.

• his reactions are SOOOO funny. like you're telling him a story and he'll have visible reactions to it. he'll cover his mouth with his hand if he gasps, put his hand on his chest in surprise, scrunches his nose in disgust - like he literally cannot hide his emotions.

• likes jazz and classical music. no I will not elaborate.

• can't Instagram. he uses emojis unironically. he has one (1) post and it's you and him together, eating ramen from the same bowl (a pic that bert took to send to porco)

• even if he doesn't use Instagram that often, he'll always check if you posted. if you've posted something then he will make it his personal priority to spam comment the heart eye emojis. your entire comment section is Reiner sending 🥰🥰🥰 and 😘😘😘 and 😍😍 and all the diff coloured hearts.

• loves taking pics of you against the sunlight or like. infront of a beautiful scenery. he likes taking goofy candid pictures too, but the ones where you're just being lit up by the sun are his favourite because finally, there's an actual accurate picture of how he sees you.

• overall, the Reiner I have in my head in a modern a.u. is incredibly soft and will dance with you in the living room in the dark with no music playing because that's how in love with you he is.

#reiner braun #reiner braun x reader #Reiner braun x you #reiner braun x y/n #attack on titan #headcanons #fluff

[reasonsmandy]

Señorita

Warren Rojas x Fem!Reader

✧.* requested by anon — Hi, I hope you're still taking requests. I had one for Warren if that's okay. If you don't take requests, don't worry about it. The reader is Karen's friend, she is very insecure and shy, she doesn't have the best relationships with her family, she thinks everything is her fault and stuff like that, you know. She feels worthless. She is introduced to the band and gets close to Warren. When he finally confesses his feelings, she freaks out because she doesn't think she deserves it. All ending in fluff, though, please. I need a happy ending 😂

✧.* summary — Living with anxiety is never easy, and it never has been for as long as you've known yourself.It was difficult to explain and control all the questions that arose and lived in his head when doing anything. And Warren Rojas was the great game changer in helping you understand your value.

✧.* warnings — anxiety symptoms and description

✧.* word count — 2.2k

✧.* 🥁 — warren's masterlist

✧.* mandy's notes — this was so personal to me as a person with anxiety myself, I hope you guys like it as much as I do. And to everyone wondering, yes, I am still taking request. Just having a slow time with writing. Good reading :)

With every step you took through the corridors, breathing became more difficult, you had no idea that Karen's invitation to participate in the launch of the album 'SevenEightNine' would involve all this crowd around you. You even liked the dress you had chosen with the keyboardist earlier at your house, but after analyzing each one there you found yourself miserable.

You tried to focus on your breathing but everything around you seemed to blend together and become just a bunch of noise and mess. You feel someone approaching, but not just any proximity, but something that only someone who knew you would do.

“Hey sweets, you good?” The drummer's voice is what you notice, Warren watches you with clear concern.

All you can do is deny it, with very discreet movements. He takes your hand and brings it to his chest. “Can you feel my breath? How about breathing with me?”

You shake your head, not knowing if you can actually be here. Hating yourself for ruining the whole event and drawing attention to yourself because you don't know how to deal with your feelings alone. He seems to notice your thoughts wandering to unwanted places, gently pulling you through the crowd.

You see him open one of the sound booths, and you barely notice when he sits you down on the cushions, but little by little the sound that used to be so deafening becomes distant and makes you hear Rojas better. He sits next to you, and like most of the band members he knew very well how to help you when these things happened.

“Here..." He says, placing one of your hands on his curls. “I know you love feeling them, do whatever you want."

You let out a laugh, which calms him down when he sees that you are slowly regaining your breath. You stroke his hair, closing your eyes to focus on the texture of it, and finally his breathing returns to normal and is replaced by a great guilt.

“Fuck, I'm ruining your night Warren.” You say, walking away, and you don't notice him getting upset about it.

“What? Of course not!” He tries to calm you down, looking for your hands, but it wasn't believable to you.

“I'm sorry, I'm really sorry." You felt tears coming to the edge of your eyes.

“Oh Hermosa, it's okay.” He caresses your hands, trying his best to dispel your thoughts. “I'm here for you, everything is gonna work out.”

“I'm ruining Karen's night.” Your speech becomes slurred.

“You're not ruining anything, it's okay. I'll go there and explain what happened and I'll come back here to keep you company.” He was looking right into your eyes,and that woke up the butterflies in your stomach.

“You really don't have to.”

“I know, but I want to.” He smiles, getting up. “And besides, you're a better company anyways. Don't move, I'll be right back.” You try to hold back your smile, trying to decipher as much as possible the feelings that were growing and manifesting within you.

…

When you met Karen Sirko it was assumed that boys would come in the package, and despite not knowing how to deal with them at first you decided to try. It wasn't very easy with your anxiety screaming and wandering through every space of thoughts. You couldn't get the thought that they would hate you out of your head, and it was getting stronger when you pressed the doorbell.

You played with the rings in your hand, avoiding looking at the door while you waited, you heard a curious noise that made you startle. After a while the door opens, you are faced with a pair of dark eyes, a loose smile and messy curls. You don't notice the way your eyes widen and the speed you look away, but he does and he frowns, widening his smile.

“May I help you señorita?” Your legs shake with the change of language, and that's when Warren noticed one of his newest talents: noticing every detail of you.

“Uh- yeah, I…” You stop, take a deep breath trying to compose yourself and hope he doesn't think this is because you're attractive to him like most people assume. “I'm looking for Karen?”

“Oh, of course.” The man whose name you still didn't know makes space between him and the door. “She said you were coming. Hey Karen Karen, your friend is here.”

You come across a not so big but cozy living room, the man with curly hair accompanies you and points you to sit on the sofa, you feel embarrassed for being observed ashamed for being there and hoping that Karen would show up soon to get attention to herself.

“My name is Warren, by the way.” You smile small, avoiding looking into his eyes. "Do you want something to drink? We have water, beer… and maybe milk but I'm not sure.”

You laugh, and he thinks it's adorable, and he's happy to have managed to make you relax.

“I think I'd like some water.” You speak, taking advantage of the bittersweet pain of anxiety slowly easing in you to talk better.

“Your wish is an order!” He salutes you and walks to the kitchen.

“Y/N.” You say, making him turn around halfway, with a curious look. “That's my name, Y/N”

“It's great to meet you Y/N”

…

You knew that if Warren Rojas wasn't so nice all the time, so precious, só caring and of course… so fucking hot! You wouldn't be in the situation in the first place, you have been avoiding him since the fateful day on the porch of the house where he had declared himself to you. And even so, it was no use since he had made a point of welcoming you in the midst of any situation.

A few days ago Karen and consequently the others had invited you to a movie night, you already felt more at home with all of them and your anxiety didn't surface as much unless some trigger happened.

You wake up with your head resting on the blonde's shoulder, blinking a few times to get your bearings. You adjust yourself on the upholstery, noticing the rest of the band sleeping in positions that would clearly give you a stiff neck in the morning, gently and trying not to make noise, you get up and pass between the stretched out bodies, laughing when you think that they actually looked like a crime scene.

Sneaking away, you head to the counter to smoke and try to calm down. Normally you woke up "scared" when you were in a place other than your home, your hands were shaking and your heart was racing in your chest, so you already knew that you would need time to get back to sleep. The indecisive down wind, which was cold but not enough to make you look for a coat, hits your skin when you rest your body on the wood in front of you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath, trying to recover and slowly calm your senses when two faint knocks echo through your ears. You open your eyes, looking back to find Rojas with his eyes clearly indicating that he had recently woken up.

“You good señorita?” He asks, and after making himself noticeable he approaches you slowly.

You nod your head as you yawn, he smiles small and tenderly and you feel your body melt. Recently you felt more than loved around him, he always seemed to be doing everything for your good, to make you feel comfortable everywhere and you never understood why. In fact it was something that haunted you, the feeling that he was going out of his way for someone unnecessary like you.

“Did you lose sleep?" He asks, leaning on the same spot as you while lighting a cigarette.

“Kinda.” You clarify, slowly being flooded with questions in your head. “You don't need to stay, you can go and rest."

“I want to.” That's the simple answer he gives, one that doesn't answer any of the 839 different questions that pop into your head every second.

He notices you are uneasy, and risks thinking that he could have done something bad. You avoid as much as possible looking into the eyes that leave you without ground.

“What happened? Did I do something?" His voice was so calm and sweet that it made you angry. How can he be so kind to someone who never even helped him?

“Why are you doing this?” You ask, and he frowns in question.

“I don't understand what you mean.”

“You're always so kind to me…” You try to explain, but he seems more lost.

“I don't get it, you're mad at me because I'm kind to you?” He scratches his scalp, turning his head to the side.

“I'm mad at you because I don't understand. I don't deserve all this, and you've been amazing from the beginning while I…” You don't finish your sentence, and he comes closer. “I don't know.” You let out with a breath.

“If you knew how incredible you are, you would understand that this is the way you should be treated by everyone." A simple sentence completely deconstructed you, you took a deep breath.

“Not everyone has to deal with my constant anxiety, what you do is…”

“Is caring.” He completes your sentence, holding your hands gently. "I care about you deeply. Because seeing you well makes me feel good, and fuck Y/N! I love seeing you well. If you only knew the impact your smile has on me, oh boy, you'd be speechless.”

“You're confusing me." You're honest, releasing your hands from his.

He gently reaches out with one of his hands to cup your chin, his dark eyes meeting your teary ones. He smiles small, you mimic him without realizing it. Warren caresses your cheek, wiping away a tear you didn't notice falling.

“I'll make it clear for you.” He whispers, and you tremble under his touch. “I love you, and I cannot pretend that I don't care about you at all. Because there's not a single second of my day that I'm not thinking about you.”

Your pupils widen, you feel your legs give out, and he doesn't do anything else. The drummer moves away from you, takes one of your hands and kisses gently.

“That's all I need you to know." He says, walking away. He stops at the broken doorway, making you break the spell of the questions. “You can have my room, I sleep in the living room. Don't worry about waking up time, here you know we sleep until necessary." He laughs, making you let out a weak laugh. "Goodnight señorita”

…

Warren had contacted everyone who might be concerned about your absence from the band party, and then picked up a considerable amount of snacks, sweets, and a soda to share with you. He knocks on the glass a few times, making you notice his presence and run to help him with everything he was carrying, unable to contain your laughter.

“I can't believe you've done that”.You say between laughs, putting what he had picked up on the floor so you could sit there and eat.

“You know what they say, if you can't go to the party, bring it to you” He says, running one of his fingers through his mustache as he settles down next to you.

“They say that?" You inquire as you laugh, he joins you with his unique laugh.

He shrugs, eating one of the snacks. “I think so”

“Thank you Rojas.” You say affectionately, and for the first time he notices. You look him in the eyes. “Thank you for worrying about me. For everything you do, I can't actually thank you enough…”

“You don't have to.” He makes sure you know. "I'm just glad you're okay.”

“Was what you said true?” You speak so quietly that he's surprised he heard you.

“Well señorita, I kinda say a lot of things.” He teases, and you can't help but feel your body light, calm next to him.

“That night.” You make yourself clear, and for the first time in your life you see Warren Rojas nervous.

He takes a deep breath. “Yes, but look, I understand if you don't feel the same and I will understand if you need time…”

You know what? Fuck the questions and uncertainties! You hold his face in both hands, kissing the drummer's lips with all the love for him that was growing in you. He is taken by surprise, but soon wraps his hands around your waist and pulls you close, incredulous and happy, he enjoys every second feeling your closeness and kissing you with love and passion.

“Does that mean?” He asks after the kiss, his pretty eyes filled with hope and love.

“I love you too Rojas.” You kiss him once again, sitting on his lap.

“God I love this, but I better warn you that I can't control myself if you do this.” He whispers in joke, kissing your nose.

“I don't care.”

He chuckles, holding your face with both hands. "I know you're trying to ignore the questions and be brave, which by the way I'm so proud of you, but we can't have sex in the studio. Unfortunately.”

You hide your face in shame in his neck, and you know as long as he's close. Safe you will be.

...

Hi, I hope you enjoyed it... If you wanted to ask for something my requests are open, and if you want to ask and don't have any ideas check out my prompt list :) xoxo

Want to be tagged when new stories come out? REASONSMANDY'S TAG LIST

Taglist: @number1chonie @eddiesaurora @hopelessromantic727 @o1iv3 @94namkooksworld @warrenrojaswife @Jaidaschampagneproblems @boredshit-shadow @lantsovcolors @quezadaas @katiepotatie

#djats #daisy jones and the six #djats x reader #warren rojas #warren rojas x reader #warren rhodes #daisy jones & the six #warren rojas imagine #warren rhodes x reader #warren rojas x you #warren rojas x fem!reader #warren rojas x y/n #warren rojas fanfic #warren rojas fic #warren rhodes fanfic #warren rhodes fic #warren rhodes x you #warren rhodes x fem!reader #warren rhodes fanfiction #djats fic #djats fanfiction #djats fanfic #daisy jones and the six x fem!reader #daisy jones and the six x you #daisy jones and the six x reader #daisy jones and the six fic #daisy jones & the six x reader #djat6 fanfic #djat6 fic #djat6

[kimpossibly]

Okay but can I get a Wednesday x reader on how her and Wednesday argue when it gets really bad💕 maybe reader walks out and they both make up after giving each other space

𝐒𝐏𝐀𝐂𝐄 -> w. addams

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi yes???? I love this so much?????? Healthy relationships?????? Thank you so much for your wonderful words???? But seriously I love this kind of angsty fluff stuff fr...this is how I survive in this cruel, cruel world HAHA. Also I'm pretty sure I've used the phrase "thaw her frozen heart" in a Wednesday fic before, but oh well! I'm a sucker for stuff like that. Hope you enjoy this one! I'm really proud of this :') (Also peep the little gif paragraph break thingie I made on Photoshop...I'm a little too proud of it...)

PAIRING: wednesday addams x gn!reader WARNINGS: arguing

ARGUING WITH WEDNESDAY ADDAMS IS NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART. She's as sadistic as they come, even when not mildly discontented (which in Wednesday Speak is as close as you can get to happy), and she never backs down from a fight. And, though a lot of Wednesday's sharp edges become a bit dull around you, that doesn't mean that she'll let you win an argument.

"You can't just endanger someone's life because they bother me, Wednesday!" you shouted. That particular argument was nasty — while you and Wednesday fit together seamlessly most of the time, she occasionally did things that you just couldn't agree with.

This time Wednesday's target had been Leah. Leah was one of the Scales, and one of the more insufferable ones at that. For the past week or so, Leah had for some reason chosen you as the target of her constant torture. She tripped you during class, used her siren song to make you humiliate yourself in front of the school, and on one occasion even managed to push you down the main staircase without anyone around her seeing. Wednesday had seen, of course. Wednesday always saw.

So she concocted a plan: she sent Leah a fake letter in her boyfriend's handwriting, telling her to meet him at a very specific location in the woods near Nevermore. As expected, Leah took the bait and made her way deep into the woods after dark. Instead of finding her boyfriend there, she was met with a pack of hungry wolves — and she quickly noticed that someone had sewn raw meat into the pockets of her clothing.

Leah returned to school half an hour later — out of breath, scratched around the ankles, and terrified. Wednesday watched her return with a smug grin — all it took was one look at her and you knew instantly this had been her doing.

Wednesday hadn't really expected you to be pleased (she had made peace with the fact that you two had very different moral codes), but she certainly hadn't expected you to react like this. "I only inflict pain upon people who deserve it," she said, her monotone voice never wavering in resolve, "and Leah deserved it."

"You don't get to decide that!" you said, rage curling your hands into fists.

"Would you rather be pushed around and ridiculed for the rest of the semester?"

You opened your mouth to speak, but your throat constricted and tears rushed to your waterline before you could get a word out. You paused, taking in a breath and willing your voice to steady. "I don't need you to fight my battles, Wednesday. If you can't respect that, then..." you trailed off, not quite sure where you were going next. Then maybe this isn't going to work out. You stopped yourself just short of putting the end in sight, not wanting to say something you didn't really believe and might regret later. Instead, you bit down on your tongue hard enough to draw blood. You blinked the tears away as you took one last look at Wednesday's stoic face and walked out, slamming the door to her dorm room behind you.

Wednesday watched you go with a bitter taste on her tongue — and not the kind she liked. You had had your arguments in the past, but you had never walked out on her. Unlike Wednesday, you were a stickler for talking things out right then and there, clearing the air before things got too ugly. But this time it had been too much. She had been too much.

Thing crawled onto the desk, having heard the entire argument. Wednesday turned sharply. "What do you want?" she snapped.

"I hope you're going to fix this."

"Why? Clearly they don't care enough to stay and have it out. Why should I be the one to piece things back together?"

Thing said nothing, but sat there in a way that said, Really?

Wednesday grit her teeth. "You're very passive aggressive for a hand."

"You're one to talk," Thing tapped back, "and ouch. Don't you think they might've needed some space?"

Wednesday paused. She hadn't thought of that, actually — not that she'd ever let Thing know that. "Fine then," Wednesday conceded. "What do you suggest?"

And, for once, Wednesday took someone else's advice.

She gave you the space you needed. For the next day and a half you received total radio silence from Wednesday. She still took her seat next to you in class, but she kept as far away from you as possible and didn't attempt conversation — not that Wednesday could ever endure small talk.

Eventually you were so unnerved by her behavior that you spoke to her, leaning over and keeping your voice to a whisper beneath Thornhill's lesson. "Wednesday? What are you doing? Are you alright?" you asked.

"I'm giving you space," she said, not meeting your eye. The words sounded unnatural in her voice. "Thing suggested it," she added quickly.

You sat back in your chair, a perplexed crease forming between your brows. This was very un-Wednesday like behavior. You weren't upset of course, just surprised. Not only at the fact that Wednesday was willingly giving you the space you needed, but that she actually took advice from Thing. It made your heart give a little flutter as you attempted to focus back on the lesson.

Wednesday never paced, but she had never been closer to doing it than she was that evening. She skipped dinner with the intention of writing her novel, but found herself staring at a blank page, unable to write a thing. Rain pounded the large stained glass window on the opposite side of the room. She had never suffered from writer's block before. This was excruciating, and not in a good way. She let out a slow breath, and finally something snapped. That's it.

She got up and strode to the door of her dorm with the intention of meeting you in the courtyard and demanding that you settle your argument from two nights ago, a crack of thunder scoring her sudden outburst. But just as she was about to reach for the doorknob, she heard a knock.

You stood out in the hallway, shivering and soaked with rain, your blazer wrapped tightly around you. The greeting you had prepared was quickly tossed away as you gave a sudden sneeze, a shiver running down your spine. You looked back at Wednesday and the words died on your tongue.

Instantly she pulled you inside, shutting the door behind you and getting one of Enid's fuzzy (revolting) blankets to wrap around your shoulders. Wednesday didn't often have these, God forbid, motherly urges very often, but again, a lot of things about Wednesday changed when she was around you. And the sight of you shaking in the cold on her doorstep was enough to thaw her frozen heart.

Once she was satisfied that you were slowly being warmed up, she stepped back, letting you dry the rain droplets from your cheeks and hair. Thing subtly crawled onto the desk and Wednesday saw it subtly sign out of the corner of her eye: "Talk."

Wednesday set her lips in a grim line. This was the part she always had trouble with. "Y/n —"

"I know you were just trying to protect me, Wednesday," you cut her off quickly. "I know that now, and I appreciate it. I didn't like what Leah was doing, and I know you didn't either, but I needed to try and figure out how to fix it in my own way first. I know that you want to look out for me, but I'm capable of fighting my own battles. I need you to tell me that you understand that."

Wednesday paused. And now she understood. This was what you had been trying to say the night of the argument — you just hadn't been able to get the words out right. Space. Space had allowed you to understand what you needed to say and what you needed to hear. Wednesday understood that now — and more importantly, she could respect it. "I understand," she said, "and I'm sorry."

You almost gasped. Wednesday rarely apologized for the things she did, especially to the people she did them to. But this was genuine.

She continued, "I don't regret what I did to Leah, but I do regret that it hurt you."

You nodded in understanding.

"I don't like seeing the people I love get hurt."

All at once you felt tears rushing to your eyes. Not the bad kind. You pushed them away with a hard swallow, sniffing. "I love you too, Wednesday," you said. "And I promise that if my way of fixing something doesn't work, you'll be the first person I call."

Wednesday felt a rush of something then, something that flushed in her cheeks and almost drew the corners of her lips up. She struggled to stifle it, but every glance at your rosy face made her that much more willing to surrender to it.

"Can I give you a hug?" you asked. You and Wednesday had reached a point where you could hug her without asking first, but you liked to get the clarification every once in a while.

Once you received a brisk nod, you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around her and enveloping both of you in Enid's thick purple blanket. Wednesday wrapped her arms around your waist, letting herself bury her head in your shoulder. She allowed herself to enjoy the warmth of being wrapped up with you, holding you tightly and knowing that you were together.

The storm continued to rage outside, but you two were warm and safe in the knowledge that, when you were together, there was nothing that couldn't be fixed.

#wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday 2022 #wednesday addams #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams fluff #wednesday addams angst