#i need to let it all out to someone who's read it PLEASE

[ellecdc]

can i formally request something? (i have no idea if you take smut requests so please ignore me if not😭) a barty x reader smut where everyone already thinks they’re together so they’re like 🤔?? maybe they’re onto something

and maybe if they try to tell people (read regulus) they’re just like -_-¿ this is new

and well done on your exams!! i’m sure you aced them

hahaha omg this is so Barty and reader coded fr. thanks for your request (I hope I did it justice)

Barty Crouch Jr x afab fem!reader who has sex for the first sodding time, Evan

CW: smut - like straight up porn people, p in v intercourse, pussy slapping cuz apparently I'm a freak, soft choking, a slap in the face if you squint, 18+

This conversation had been going on for so long that you were truly fighting the urge to throw your head back and let out a guttural scream out of pure frustration.

But Barty never fought his urges.

“For fuck’s sake!” He screeched. “How many sodding times do you need me to say it: we - are - not - to - geth - er!” He shouted at Evan, emphasising each syllable with a stomp of his foot. 

Evan smirked and shared a look with Dorcas before rolling his eyes.

“Sure. And what exactly is this?” He asked, gesturing with his book at your tangled forms.

Okay, so maybe you and Barty were physically affectionate with each other - but that didn’t mean anything.

“What?” Barty asked simply.

“The way you’re sitting, Junior.” Dorcas drawled in a bored tone.

You both looked at each other like you were only just now realising your proximity to each other. 

You were positioned on the cushion of the sofa between Barty’s thighs with his arms wrapped around you and his hands weaselled under your shirt and tucked under your breasts.

What?

It was for warmth; he has terrible circulation, you know.

“We always sit like this.” You replied.

Evan scoffed. “You always sit like you’re one sneeze away from having his dick slip inside of you?”

“Okay, you know what?” Barty said, slipping his hands out from your shirt and patting your thighs to say ‘get up’, and standing up behind you. “I didn’t come here to be spoken to like this, least of all by someone who has his head shoved so far up his arse that he could check for tonsillitis.”

Evan shut his book he’d been pretending to read up until that point causing Barty to screech and shout at you to ‘save yourself’ as the two of you took off in the direction of his dorm room. 

You were laughing and breathless by the time you made it into Barty’s room and he shut the door behind you, casting a locking charm for good measure should Evan come looking for retribution for the slander.

“Honestly, I think they’re just jealous.” You said breathlessly.

Barty nodded as he sucked in a few deep breaths himself. “I mean, it’s kind of sad he’s never had a best friend that he felt so comfortable with, you know?”

“Exactly!” 

“And I don’t know why everyone has to make it so sexual. Do you have great tits? Sure. But that’s not why I put my hands on them!”

“Of course.” You agreed readily. “And I mean, are we two of the hottest people to walk these fucking halls? Of course we are -”

“Absolutely.”

“- but that doesn’t mean we’re shagging!”

“Right!” Barty said with finality as he finally sat down on the chair at his desk. “I don’t know why they have to make everything so weird.”

“Me either.” You groaned as you fell backwards onto Barty’s bed and stared up at the green velvet bed curtains draped over the four poster bed. “They’re probably just jealous.” You repeated. “I mean, we would make a really hot couple; I’d want to be with us too.”

“You know, that’s exactly what I was just thinking.” Barty agreed quickly. “And if we were having sex, they’d bloody know it. It would be hot.”

“Gods, it really would be, wouldn't it?”

“Without a doubt; I’m great in bed, and you’re great at everything.” Barty said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You know what.” You said as you sat up to face Barty. “It would be hot. Great sex comes from trust-”

“Check.”

“- communication,”

“Check.”

“Familiarity,”

“Duh.”

“Confidence.”

“Obviously.”

“We’d be sodding lucky to be shagging each other!” You proclaimed.

“I agree!” He responded. 

You both stared at each other; breathing slightly laboured having gotten yourselves so worked up pleading your cases (to no one, seeing as you were both clearly on the same page).

“Huh.” Barty said finally, giving your body a once over. “You know, maybe it is weird we haven’t fucked before.”

“Yeah.”

Your eyes met his green ones that held an intensity you’d not seen from him before.

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna fuck?”

“Yeah.”

And like a flip had been switched, the two of you were launching yourselves at each other. 

No time was spent savouring touches or testing waters. It was all teeth clashing, tongues dancing, heavy breathing, and tearing each other’s clothes off.

It felt somehow both forbidden and oh so right.

You’d truly never thought about Barty like this; you really were just that comfortable with one another.

But as you pulled his shirt over his head and started fussing with his belt, a fire roared to life inside you screaming we should have been doing this the whole bloody time. 

You nearly tripped over the waistband of your trousers as Barty backed the two of you towards his bed where he sat on the edge.

You broke apart for air as he moved his sinful mouth down the expanse of your torso and took to marking up your breasts.

“Salazar they’re even better like this.” He murmured to himself before taking one of your nipples in his mouth whilst he pinched the other.

You ran your finger through his hair, an action you'd done many times before, but never like this.

You pulled at it roughly and brought his lips back to yours as you pushed him to lay back on his bed so you could straddle him.

“Merlin, Y/N. No foreplay?” He chuckled breathlessly as you gave his cock a few strokes and whispered a lubrication charm.

“Next time.” You sighed as you lined him up with your entrance and slowly sank down onto his cock, causing the two of you to moan in unison.

“Next time, huh?” Barty teased as he smoothed his hands up and down your sides, allowing the two of you to adjust to the feeling of one another before you experimentally rolled your hips.

“What? Don’t you want to fuck me, Junior?” You taunted right back.

Barty thrusted his hips up roughly into yours, causing you to cry out and place your hands on his shoulders to stabilise yourself. “I think it’s very obvious I want to fuck you.”

“Yeah?” You whispered, bringing your mouth back to his and biting gently on his bottom lip.

“Yeah.”

You breathed a laugh out through your nose before you bit down harder.

“Then fuck me.”

And before you could tell which way was up, Barty had flipped the two of you over so he now hovered over top of you and had his hand wrapped around your neck.

“You want to be fucked, doll?” He groaned as he hooked one of your legs around his hip allowing himself that much deeper in you.

If there was one thing you could thank the fucked up breeding habits of Purebloods for, it was apparently the size of their cocks. 

“You want me to ruin you?” He continued as he added more pressure to your throat, still grinding into your now sopping cunt. “Make sure no other wizard is ever good enough for you?”

Your entire body felt like it was on fire; the feeling when you’re sitting on the poolside in the sun after a swim; the beads of water only make the sun’s rays feel that much warmer against your skin.

“Oi.” He demanded, giving your cheek a chastising tap. “You gonna be good for me?” He asked more seriously this time.

His beautiful green eyes were nearly fully eclipsed by his pupils as he continued moving in and out of you with what you realised now was a very controlled pace. But you were eager to see where he’d go from here.

“I’ll be good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.” He ordered.

“I’ll be good.”

“What was that?”

“I’ll be good, Barty.” You whined, pulling at his arms in an attempt to bring him closer.

“Who are you going to be good for?”

“You.”

“Yeah?”

You hummed in agreement as he hiked up your other leg and wrapped it around his hip.

“Tell me.”

“I’ll be good for you! Promise. I’ll be so good for you, please.”

Barty chuckled and let out a taunting cooing sound as he fell to his elbows and brought his face to yours.

“There’s no need to beg, sweets.”

And just like that, he was pulling away from you again.

Suddenly, his hands were on your hips and he lifted them into the air, holding them there as he began slamming into you. 

“Gonna be so fucking good for me, aren’t you angel?” He grunted.

You scrunched your eyes shut at the feeling of his throbbing cock pounding into you; adjusting his angle every few thrusts in search of something.

“I bet you’re a fucking screamer, huh? You always got so much to say babygirl; don’t go quiet on me now.”

His fingers dug further into the fat of your hips as he adjusted his grip on you, causing you to let out an embarrassing keening sound.

Apparently that was close, but not quite what Barty had been looking for.

“Close. How about we try…”

And he pulled out of you completely before landing a hard smack against your pussy, forcing a surprised scream to tear from your throat. 

“There’s the pretty sounds I was looking for.” He celebrated, rubbing placating circles on your clit before repositioning himself and sinking back into you. “Think you can keep that up for me, Princess?”

“Yes!” You cried quickly, grabbing helplessly at the bedding as he once again lifted your hips up into the air, finding that sweet spot inside you that he’d been in search of before his interruption.

He knew he found his mark when you let out another strangled sob.

“Alright pretty girl, there we go, huh? Does that feel good?”

You were babbling affirmatives nonsensically as he groaned at the sensation of your walls clenching around him; yesses and pleases spilling from your lips.

“Fuck you feel so good.”

“Please Barty.” You cried, reaching a hand up to his wrist.

He let your hips fall to the bed as he brought one thumb to your clit and his other hand took yours in his.

“What is it, princess? Hm?”

“Please.” You whined, and it sounded pathetic even in your own ears in your current state.

But Barty only tsked and pulled two of your fingers into his mouth which he began to suck.

You could feel the tension building in your core as he quickened his pace with his thumb and his hips before letting your fingers go with a pop.

“I’ll take care of your princess, you know that. When have I ever let you down?”

Never.

“Never.”

He smiled triumphantly down at you; and though his mouth was cocky, his eyes were sincere. 

“Exactly. I’m not about to start now, yeah?”

And suddenly his thumb was gone from your clit, your ankles were thrown over his shoulders and he was leaning his weight against the backs of your thighs as he began thrusting into you with an air of desperation.

“Atta girl; so good, huh? S’good.” He grunted as his thrusts became somewhat sloppy. “S’fuckin’ good for me. Perfect for me, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes.” You chanted with each thrust of his hips. “Please, oh gods, please, please Barty.”

“I know, I know.” He grunted, clearly as close to teetering over some sort of edge as you were. “I know, I feel it. You’re alright, yeah? Go on, sweets; I’ve got you.”

And his hands were holding onto your thighs for dear life and he was kissing at your knee like even that silly little part of you was something worthy of worship, and he did have you and he never let you down and he wasn’t going to start now and you saw stars as you finally fell over the edge.

The room fell quiet as Barty locked his lips on yours, and you realised you’d been screaming. 

His hips stuttered as he thrust into you once, twice, three times more before he followed you over the edge; letting your legs fall from his shoulders as he fell to his elbows on top of you and the two of you fought to catch your breath.

In complete contrast to the Barty who was only moments ago pounding mercilessly into you, he started placing, slow, lingering, gentle kisses over your face as his thumbs rubbed idly at your temples.

He pressed a kiss to your neck, your jaw, the tip of your nose, over your eyelids, your forehead, your ear.

You knew Barty could have a soft side, but you never imagined it so tender.

“I knew you’d be a screamer.” He whispered, breaking you out of the serene moment and surprising a bark of laughter from you, which caused both of you to groan in discomfort before Barty slowly pulled out of you. 

“Stay here, princess.” He instructed as he walked away from the bed and returned a few moments later with a warm cloth and one of his (read: your favourite of his) t-shirts.

You watched him carefully as he cleaned you up - and once again, what probably should have felt awkward or embarrassing felt nothing but natural as he doted on you. 

“Can you sit up?” He asked; not one hint of condescension in his tone as he held the neckhole of his shirt open for you to slip your head into.

As it poked through, he pressed a kiss to your lips before helping to thread your arms in.

“Is it safe to assume we’ll be doing that again?” You asked with a smirk, causing him to scoff dramatically. 

“We’ll be doing that the rest of our lives if I have anything to say about it.”

After a shower and a change into comfies, the two of you returned to the common room, and though Dorcas was long gone, Evan could be found where the two of you had left him, now in the company of Regulus. 

“Well boys.” Barty sang dramatically as he swung his legs over the back of the sofa and landed on the seat with a bounce. “We just fucked.”

You rolled your eyes at his blatant goading as you sat beside him.

“Yeah? And I had potions today; so what?” Regulus muttered without looking up from his novel.

“What do you mean so what? This was the first time!” Barty argued.

“This is new.” You insisted severely.

“You know, I always knew Barty was a liar; but I expected better from you, Y/N.”

Your mouth dropped open as Regulus and Evan stood up and walked away from the seating area.

What you didn’t see as they walked towards the Slytherin dungeons was Regulus passing Evan five Galleons for their bet on who could convince the two of you to finally get over your “just friends” bit.

#marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #reader insert #self insert #barty #barty crouch jr #barty crouch junior #slytherin skittles #the slytherin skittles #smut #barty crouch jr imagine #barty cr #barty crouch jr x reader #Barty Crouch jr x #barty crouch jr x you #barty crouch jr smut #barty crouch jr drabble #barty crouch jr headcanons #barty gate #if you give the fans a barty #they’re going to ask for smut #ellecdc fics

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

Hello! May I please request #5 “Flowers” from the prompt list? Thank you! :D

Ayyyyyyy one of my fave prompts from the list! Glad you requested it!!

Summary: You give Astarion a personally handmade flower crown

Each flower has its own unique meaning, though some meanings have been lost to time. Your mother’s voice teaching you the meaning of some flowers has long faded from your memory, a loss you mourn as you scour the markets for books on flowers and their meanings.

You know Astarion isn’t one for receiving flowers, but its not the flower you want him to hold dear to his heart, no, it’s the meaning of the flower that you want to imprint into his mind for all eternity.

By a stroke of luck, you find a book detailing the meaning and uses of certain flowers in Faerun hidden away in the corners of a merchant’s store. A quick purchase later and its now permanently in your hands, ready for perusing.

Astarion raises an eyebrow when he sees you sitting in your tent, engrossed in a book instead of sitting with the others around the campfire, unwinding after a long day of adventuring. The others don’t seem to mind the missing company, but this is most unusual behaviour from you so Astarion takes it upon himself to investigate this change.

“Hello darling, not in the mood for mingling tonight?” He smiles, closing the distance between the two of you. You shift over wordlessly, making space for him and he happily sits down, taking a look at the book you’re reading.

“I had no idea you were into flowers, I thought you were more into…clothes.”

“You thought wrong, then.” His favourite smile of yours graces your lips as amusement flashes across your face. “If however it were a book about clothes…I could be persuaded to be into clothes.”

Astarion can’t help but laugh at your attempt at a sly look and leans in to press a quick peck to your lips. “Leave that kind of talk to me, darling. You’re positively terrible at it.”

“At least I’m not negatively terrible at it.” You shoot back.

Astarion rolls his eyes, half immune to your type of jokes at this point and swipes the book from your lap, curious. You’re left hugging him from behind as he holds the book out of your reach, reading the page you’re on.

“Aren’t night orchids our resident cleric’s favourite flower?”

“Yes, they are.” You rest your chin on his shoulder, still clinging onto him.

“Night orchids are known to symbolise rarity, uniqueness, beauty and spirituality. Who knew her favourite flower represented her so well?” He remarks.

“They also represent someone else very well.” You mumble into his back sheepishly. Astarion hums in response, closing the book after placing a bookmark in it for you and turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Yes, Star?” You ask.

Astarion buries his face into your hair, letting out a soft breath that ruffles the strands on the top of your head, causing you to smile softly and reach upwards to run your fingers through his hair. A quiet purr rumbles in his throat as he leans into your touch, enjoying the attention you’re lavishing upon him instead of the book. You indulge him, knowing nights like this where you’re not needed by anyone else are few and far between. Astarion curls his fingers around yours, enjoying the way your hand neatly slots into his as if they were made for each other. Maybe they were, maybe you were always meant for him and vice versa. He quite likes that thought.

You play with a few strands of his silver hair, twirling them around a finger. “A flower wreath would look really nice on you.”

“Would it now?” Astarion would really rather you remain here until dawn breaks instead of going out to pick flowers, even if they are for him.

“It would. You will look really pretty with one sitting on your head like a crown.” You draw a ghostly circle around his head, mirroring where the flower wreath would sit before clapping your hands together. “That settles it! I’ll make you one!”

Astarion quickly moves to grab your arm, eyes wide as his mouth moves to convince you to stay, to not leave him yet. He’s ready to beg you to remain by his side for what remains of the night, afraid that someone might steal you away from him but you haven’t moved an inch from your spot.

“I still don’t know what flower to use,” you chuckle. “Guess I’ll have to stay here for the rest of the night, hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not, darling.” He swallows, shoving his embarrassment to the back of his mind. You lean against his chest, book tossed aside in favour of your lover and inhale his scent, blissfully snuggling against him. He holds you close, tracing patterns on your exposed skin until you fall asleep and he tucks you into your bedroll, pressing a kiss to your forehead and sneaks out of your tent, but not before wishing you a quiet goodnight that you’re far too deep in sleep to hear.

The matter of the flower crown gets pushed to the back of your mind and out of Astarion’s head in favour of more pressing matters as your party journeys on until you stumble upon the cave Shadowheart once lived in deep in the underground Sharran temple.

While the others search the cave for loot or lost childhood memories, a certain plant catches your eye — night orchids. You go about picking them, counting how many you would need for a flower crown that would fit Astarion’s head and are relieved to find there are sufficient night orchids in the cave for your endeavour. Stashing them safely in your pouch, you turn to gather the others and head off to the Sharran dorms for some much needed rest whilst letting Shadowheart take back as much of her lost memories as possible. She deserved that, at least, for all she’d been through.

You claim the bed closest to the back corner of the room and begin work, praying that you remember how to make a flower crown and fortunately, muscle memory saves the day as your fingers weave flower after flower into a circular shape. It’s not the best looking flower crown you’ve ever made, being out of practice, but it’s certainly passable. You turn the delicate object in your hands, checking it over before glancing upwards. Astarion was arguing with Wyll about the bottle of wine he definitely stole despite his claims of innocence and the others were enjoying the show, save for Gale who was cooking tonight’s dinner.

Slipping out of your bed, you sneak over to Astarion’s bed to deliver the goods before walking up to the group as if nothing happened, breaking up the fight that was escalating with the announcement of food.

When Astarion throws back the covers to lie down, he finds a flower crown sitting atop a book he remembers seeing you read before and stares at them, resisting the urge to throw the covers up again to remove the illusion. Surely he was hallucinating or something, no one would deign to personally handcraft something so beautiful and delicate just for him. Or maybe the giver had placed them on the wrong bed, any of the others maybe except for Lae’zel would appreciate such a gift.

“Do you like it?” Your voice sounds behind him. He turns around, nearly dropping the blanket on the flower crown.

“It’s for me?” He asks, confused.

“Yeah. It’s on your bed, is it not? Did I make a mistake?” You frown.

“No, you placed it on my bed.” Had you made the flower crown for him? Why did you spend such precious time and effort on him? The thing of beauty was wasted on someone like him, it would have been better off in the hands of anyone else, even Karlach despite her probably reducing it to cinders before it could properly rest on her head.

“That’s a relief. I thought I had the wrong bed for a moment,” you smile. “Well, goodnight then, Astarion.”

Before he can say anything, you’ve headed off to your bed, leaving him alone with his swirling thoughts. He gingerly picks the crown up, checking to see if anyone is paying him any mind before slipping out of the dorm and putting it on when he deems it safe enough to do so. His gaze falls upon a nearby mirror and sadness clouds his eyes when he realises he won’t be able to see how he looks like with the flower crown. His reflection will forever evade him, not even the tadpole could keep it from running away.

“You really do look pretty wearing it.”

“Why, thank you, darling.” Astarion smiles, taking a little bow. The action causes the flower crown to slip and when he straightens, it’s lopsided.

“Concentrate on the tadpole. I want to show you how you look with the flower crown on.”

Astarion blinks.

“Oh come on, don’t look at me like that. I hadn’t thought about using our tadpoles like this before until Gale pointed it out,” you huff. “I bet you haven’t thought about it either.”

“I —”

“Concentrate already.”

“As you wish, dearest.”

Astarion closes his eyes, concentrating on his tadpole’s connection with yours and when he opens his eyes, a pale silver haired elf stands before him, ruby red eyes piercing into his very soul. He really is pretty with the flower crown on, like you said. The dark blue colour of the night orchids stands in stark contrast against the silver of his hair, creating a halo of blue around his head.

When he next opens his eyes, he’s back in his own body, tears threatening to spill over.

“Thank you,” he manages to whisper, throat clogging up.

“You’re welcome,” you smile softly, reaching over to cup his cheeks. He closes the gap without hesitation, lips meeting yours in a dance of bliss and affection. The night lasts longer than usual, or maybe it was longer than a night but neither of you can tell from underground.

When Astarion heads back to his bed, he remembers the book that is still lying underneath its sheets — a book about flowers and their various meanings with a rather familiar bookmark sticking out of it. He flips to the marked page and the section is titled ‘Night Orchids’. At the end of the passage letters come together, forming a sentence that causes tears to cascade down his face.

Gift this sweet bloom to someone you believe is beautiful in their unique and special way.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion bg3 #astarion x durge #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion romance #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion ancunin #tavstarion #durgestarion #bg3 fluff #bg3 fic

[icyg4l]

PAC: What Upgrades are Coming Into Your Life?

Hello beautiful people, so sorry for the delay on readings. I've been really distracted lol. But tonight marked the end of the $5 4/20 weekend sale. I am grateful for those who have purchased a reading. Now, if you would like to purchase a reading, please read my guidelines and let me know! (They will be regularly priced until another sale comes along). Now, this weekend’s PAC will be all about the upgrades that are coming in your life! Whether that’s in your career, home, family, finances, love, etc. We’ll find together! So without further ado, please pick your Megan baby. 🤭

Top Left-to-Bottom Right (1-4):

PIle One, I feel like things have been getting hectic in your life. I think that this is a group of people who can get easily distracted by the small things. A lot of you are going through a breakup/separation from someone that betrayed you or love bombed you. I can feel my throat tightening as I’m typing this. I’m sorry, Pile One but this is a blessing in disguise. I think that this will be a death/rebirth period for you. I am seeing snippets of the Hiss video, specifically when Megan is dressed in all silver. I think you will come out stronger than ever. When I say stronger, I mean you will be less tolerant with other people’s bullshit and having better boundaries. I feel like someone tried to dominate you and as a result, it ruined your self-esteem. I see you taking some time to yourself and realizing who the fuck you are. You need to know that things will get better. Anything that happens over the course of the next seven days is meant to happen, Pile One. 

Cards Used: The Empress (RX), Prince of Cups, 7 of Swords, Strength, The Hermit, 3 of Swords (RX), The Magician, Temperance (RX), The Lovers (RX). 

extras: “bovine”. playing the dozens. hbcu bound. 1H lilith. a full shopping cart. laughter.

Pile Two: If you suffer from insomnia, you will absolutely start to get better sleep. Pile Two, you’re such a smart worker. I know you don’t like to work hard, and you will be getting a reward for that. I see a promotion coming your way. If you have a boss that has an explosive temper, I see that this will happen within the next three weeks. Your life also seems chaotic like Pile Two. You also seem like the obsessive type. I feel like this is a pile full of nightowls as well. Part of your upgrade process will mean embracing your shadow side. I think that you have some trouble with other women (if you’re a woman), or having trouble embracing your soft side. It is okay to be vulnerable. I also see if you’re on the search for a new car, then a woman will co-sign a loan for you. It seems like you will be changing from the inside out. The longer it takes for you to address the issues that you have going on internally, the longer the results will come. I am seeing that when you finally decide to open up and be vulnerable, the physical changes will manifest. For example, if you want longer hair, your hair will grow two inches. If you want to change your life, change your mind Pile Two. And I’d recommend you look up the term ‘limerence’. Start making changes to become more grounded and less clouded by delusions, fantasies and looping thoughts about stuff that does not exist in your reality. It’s time to let them go, Pile Two.

Cards Used: 4 of Cups, Queen of Cups, The Chariot, Ace of Discs, 3 of Discs, The Devil, King of Cups (RX), The Tower, 9 of Swords

extras: listening to nightcore. “egoic”. meat market. fresh beat band. beauty shop (2005). picker-upper.

Pile Three: Your hard work is finally going to pay off. You’ve been obsessing over your work and dedicating so much of your time to it. It is finally going to receive some recognition because you decided to not give up on your dreams. As a result, I see that your dream lifestyle will be well-funded. If you’re an artist or a clothing designer, this will especially resonate with you. The amount of time that you spent on your passion will be appreciated by many eyes, Pile Three. If you’ve been having a hard time accepting someone for who they are, or if you have been struggling with your emotions in general, I see that you will get a handle on it. And also, if you’re looking for a vendor, you will find one! You are being called to continue to focus on your craft. I am channeling this interview of GloRilla where she says that she abstained from relations with men, partying and alcohol for sixty days before she blew up. Then FNF was released, and that marked the start of her mainstream journey. So, keep going baby!!

Cards Used: Wheel of Fortune, Strength (RX), 5 of Cups, Queen of Cups, 7 of Cups, Princess of Discs, The Devil, 3 of Discs, Temperance, The Star

extras: christina aguilera. spiders. a series of unfortunate events. award shows.

Pile Four: The only way that you can learn from your mistakes is if you actually implement the lesson into your life, Pile Four. I can tell that you’re stubborn. Once you really understand that nothing can change if YOU don’t move things around, you will know how powerful you are. Some of you may have a really thick (and attractive) accent. I think that you can use this to your advantage to make things shake for you. Pile Four, do you really know yourself? Like outside of the things that you do and have, who are you? It is time for you to do some soul searching, my love. It feels like I am talking to a shell of you. I think that the upgrades that are coming in will involve other people. You will find someone who helps you embrace your rawest, natural self. I also think that you will be interested in fitness and will find a workout partner. Investing in yourself physically will impact you emotionally. You do not need to go back to your old self because they’re gone. Take pride in this new you. I feel that your spirituality will strengthen as well. Your boundaries will grow stronger, and as this happens, you will lose more friends unfortunately. But I don’t think you’ll be affected by it. Overall, I feel like this pile will gain a lot of clarity and mental strength to start breaking generational curses and shedding old skin. You got this, Pile Four!

Cards Used: 8 of Cups, The Star, Death, 9 of Swords, 7 of Wands, The Fool, Temperance, Page of Wands, The Lovers

extras: “you smell good.” “be you.” jump by tyla. maison margiela. kick-ass. wwe.

#law of assumption #manifesting #neville goddard #tarot #tarotreading #hoodoo #astro notes #pick a card #pick a pile #divination #black tarot readers #tarot pull #tarot community #tarot tumblr #free tarot #daily tarot #tarot deck #tarot reading #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot witch #kpop tarot #pick a reading #pick an image #tarot pick a card #pac reading #tarot pac #spirituality

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 25, Unprotected - Pt. 4

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, medical procedures, Pocket getting called out on her shit, deep discussions, mentions of drug use and anonymous sex.

Word Count: 2.7k

Previously On...: You woke up in the hospital to some quite... surprising news.

A/N: LET THE HEALING SORT OF BEGIN! I AM READY FOR IT.

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

A few hours later, you were discharged with antibiotics to stave off any potential infection and over-the counter iron tablets to help replenish all the blood you’d lost. The car ride back to the safehouse was awkward in its heavy silence, the only words spoken between you and Bucky were when you asked to stop at the local pharmacy to buy out their stock of hydrogen peroxide. You’d need to tackle those blood stains in your bedroom before they had time to fully set.

As you walked in the door to the apartment, Bucky on your heels, you took in the space as he would be seeing it for the very first time– it was an absolute mess, with clothes strewn about, fast food wrappers and empty liquor bottles littering every available surface. You watched his eyes as they raked over the mess, pausing to linger on the empty condom wrappers your last Bad Decision had left on the coffee table, next to the remnants of the coke you two had done.

“What the fuck is this?” he asked. “Did someone break in and trash the place while you were in the hospital?”

You grabbed a discarded bra from the back of an armchair, where Bad Decision #... something, had tossed it in his hurry to get at you. “Wasn’t exactly expecting company,” you grumbled defensively. 

Bucky laughed nervously. “What, so you’ve just been having random sex and getting drunk everyday?” The look he gave you was desperate, as though begging you to contradict him, to tell him it was all some sort of joke you were playing on him, but you just stood there in silence, not meeting his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Pocket, this isn’t you,” Bucky exhaled. “None of this is who you are. What have you been doing  to yourself?”

“No,” you scoffed, “this is who you made me, Barnes. So, if you have a problem with what I’ve become, you’ve only got yourself to blame.” You opened your arms wide to encompass the entire apartment, and by extension, the evidence of your downward spiral. “Welcome to the consequences of your own actions!”

“Fuck.” Bucky ran a tired hand down his face after a moment of stunned silence. “I did do this to you, didn’t I? God, I’m so sorry, Pocket. If I could take it back, I would. I know that’s just more empty words, and you’re probably sick of hearing them, but it’s the truth. Hurting you is the biggest regret of my life.”

“Yet, you keep doing it,” you said, sighing heavily. You flopped down on the couch, exhausted and sore. The nurse had warned you there’d be residual cramping, and had insisted that regular ibuprofen would take care of it, but you’d already had six-hundred milligrams and were still aching. You wondered briefly if you had any oxy left from the club, but decided that getting high in front of Bucky was probably not the smartest move you could make right now, so you opted to deal.

Bucky walked over and made a move like he was about to sit down next to you, but something caught his eye. Bending over, he ran a finger through the white powder residue on the coffee table, bringing it to his tongue to taste.

“Shit,” he said, making a face. “Pocket, is this cocaine?!”

“What are you, McGruff the Crime Dog?” you asked sarcastically, before realizing the reference was probably completely wasted on him. He just continued to stare at you expectantly. “So what if it is?” You asked with a shrug. 

“Since when do you do coke?” Bucky asked incredulously. You really didn’t like the way he was looking at you at the moment. Like he had opened the fridge, looking for a carton of milk, but instead found a giraffe in a three-piece suit.

“Since I ran out of oxy,” you said nonchalantly. “And molly.”

A change came over Bucky’s features, and you watched them go hard, judging. “You’ve been doing all this– the drinking, the drugs, sleeping around with god knows who, while you’ve been pregnant?! What? It wasn’t enough to kill our baby, you had to try to kill yourself in the process? Do you know how absolutely fucking stupid you’re being?!” He was shouting at you now, the anger he’d been holding at bay since the hospital coming out in full force. 

You stood back up, taking in a shuddering breath. You hadn’t expected him to blow up at you so unexpectedly. “I didn’t know,” you said softly, voice trembling. “I didn’t know I was pregnant.”

“Would it have made a fucking difference?” he roared. “You already admitted you would have aborted it if you had known! Can you honestly say you wouldn’t have risked the baby’s health– your health– even if you did know?”

You didn’t have an answer to that. “I don’t know,” you whispered.

“Pocket,” the anger seemed to leave Bucky almost as quickly as it had come, “if you hadn’t gotten medical attention right when you did, you could have died. You could have bled out, gone into septic shock. This miscarriage could have fucking killed you. Do you know what that would have done to me? To Sam and Steve? Nat, Wanda, Pepper? What it would have done to fucking Tony?” You were hit with a sudden wave of guilt. In your spiral, you hadn’t considered for a moment what your actions would have meant to the people who loved you. You only cared about forgetting your own pain. 

“When you were getting dressed to come home, I asked the nurse what could have caused the miscarriage. One of the things she mentioned was heavy drug use, but I didn’t pay it any attention. I thought ‘no, not my Pocket, she’s too smart to do something so incredibly dumb; has to be something else.’ But here you are, throwing your entire life away. And for what? Some cheap thrills? And now, you’ve gone and lost a baby and you don’t even care!”

It was too much. His words were getting to be too much, and you were dangerously close to losing it. “Of course I fucking care!” you sobbed, the damn breaking and setting free a flood of tears you’d been pretending weren’t just waiting to spill. “I had our baby– ours, yours and mine– and I fucking lost it because I needed to forget how much pain I was in! How much you fucking made me hurt! It’s been almost two months and I still want to die when I think about you with her. I want to fucking die.”

Bucky’s arms were around you as you collapsed into him, gasping for air between choking sobs. “I close my eyes, and it’s all I can see,” you wailed. “I’ve fucked so many men trying to forget about you, to feel anything besides despair, but all they do is remind me of what I’m missing, what I lost. All the drinking, the drugs, all the sex– I just wanted to forget, to have a few minutes where I could pretend my life wasn’t ruined, that the best thing I ever had hadn’t been stolen away from me!”

Bucky held you tighter, rubbing soothing patterns into your back in an attempt to calm you. “And I just keep losing,” you cried. “I lost you, I lost our baby, I lost Chloe.”

If Bucky wondered who Chloe was, he knew it wasn’t the right time to ask. “Hey,” he said, tilting your chin up so you were looking at him and wiping the tears from your cheeks, “you haven’t lost me. I’m still right here. I know I fucked up. I don’t expect you to forgive me; I don’t deserve it, but I’m always going to be here, no matter what. And, okay, you lost this baby. But that doesn’t mean you won’t have a chance for another.”

“I don’t want someone else’s baby,” you told him, wiping at the tears that just wouldn’t stop coming, and choosing to completely ignore the fact that you’d lost him in every way that actually mattered. “This was the only chance for our baby, and I destroyed it! It’s the universe’s way of telling me I’m not supposed to be a mother.”

“Why the fuck would you think that?” Bucky asked accusingly. “What makes you think you wouldn’t be an amazing mom?”

You let out a hard laugh through your tears. “What the fuck do I know about being a mother?” you asked him bitterly. “It’s not like I had a shining example of one growing up. All I know how to do is push people away. To make them not love me.” That was the sick truth, your exhausted brain and broken heart were telling you in the moment: your biological father, your mother, Bucky. All of them had turned from you, had pulled their love at the first opportunity. A logical part of your brain would have known this wasn’t the case, and that you had so many more people who did love you, but you weren’t running on logic right now.

“Stop,” Bucky begged, voice cracking. “That’s not true. Sweetheart, that’s not true. You are so damn easy to love, I fell for you immediately. I know you don’t believe it, but I never stopped loving you. I’m never gonna stop loving you.”

“Then why, Bucky?” you cried, clinging to him, desperate for an answer that made sense. “Why did you do this to me?”

Bucky pulled you down onto the couch with him, cradling you in his lap. He gently rocked you back and forth. “Because I’m broken, sweets. I’m broken, and I’m stupid, and I let my anger get the best of me. I was so convinced that you were too good for me, that I didn’t deserve you, that I sabotaged us to prove myself right. But none of that is worth seeing you like this. None of that was worth putting you through all the hurt I did. And I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. Nothing I say can undo it. Nothing I do is gonna change what happened, fix the damage I did to you. All I can do is show you that it’s never gonna happen again, whether or not you ever end up forgivin’ me. There’s never gonna be another girl for me, and if you never want me again, that’s okay; I’ll understand. I deserve it and I’ll learn to live with it, but it’s not gonna change how I feel. You’ll be the last girl I’ll ever make love to, even if you decide you never wanna give me another chance.”

You weren’t sure what to say to that. Simply because you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to give him another chance. But that reminded you– there was something you wanted to address with him.

“I’m sorry,” you told him softly. 

Bucky narrowed his eyes at you with a tilt of his head. “What are you sorry about, doll? I’m the one who should be spending the rest of their life apologizin’ to you.”

You turned away from him. “I’m sorry about what Hydra did to you,” you said. When he didn’t say anything, you went on: “I, uh, asked Sam,” you continued. “About what you’d told me with the sparring and how you get… excited.” You felt him still beneath you, but didn’t want to lose your nerve. “I’m sorry that I doubted that they put you through that kind of abuse, and I’m so sorry it happened to you. And… I’m– I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like I was a safe person you could share that part of your past with.”

Bucky let out an agonizingly slow breath. “Sweets,” he began, “it was never about feeling like you weren’t a safe place for me to be open about it. Not once.”

You took in a shuddering breath, hating that you were making this moment, in a way, about you. “But… you told Steve, and Sam and– and… her. But you didn’t tell me.” You risked a glance at him, afraid he was going to be angry at you, but all you saw was patience in his eyes. “I must have said or done something that made you feel like you couldn’t share it with me, and whatever that was, I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head sadly and rubbed his human hand up and down your back. “No, baby.” He exhaled. “It was never like that. I didn’t tell you, because I was ashamed.”

You raised your eyes and gave him a questioning look.

“I could tell Sam, and Steve, and even Carthage, because I didn’t give a shit if they thought I was… fucked up… sexually. It didn’t matter what they thought about it, because, well, I wasn’t trying to impress them, to make them want me, want to be with me. But you?” He brought his vibranium hand up to cup your face, turning it so you were looking at him. “I didn’t want you lookin’ at me and thinkin’ that I was broken, that I didn’t… didn’t work right in the way I wanted you the most. I’d never be able to stand it. I was just so ashamed and embarrassed; and I couldn’t stand the thought of you lookin’ at me the way I looked at myself.”

“Barnes,” you offered with a small, small smile, “I have never, not once, even considered you were broken, sexually. Not before I found out, and certainly not after. In fact, I’ve spent the last two months desperately trying to make myself forget just how not fucked up you are in that department.”

Bucky cleared his throat. “Just, uh, outta curiosity, sweets, how many attempts at forgetting are we talking about here?”

You scrunched up your mouth. “You seriously want to know how many guys I’ve fucked since we broke up, Barnes?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders in a completely failed attempt at seeming nonchalant. “Like I said, just curious. What are we talking… like, two? Three?”

You snorted. Multiply that by ten, you thought. “You really don’t want to know, Barnes. Trust me.”

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned. “More than three?!”

You shrugged awkwardly. “It’s really not any of your business, Bucky.”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck,” he said. “Yeah, yeah, I know it’s not. I just can’t stand the fucking thought of someone else putting their hands on you,” he said through clenched teeth. 

You raised a brow and gave him a sarcastic look. “Hypocrite much?” you asked, though there was no bite behind your words. 

Bucky lowered his head, not meeting your gaze. “Givin’ me a taste of my own medicine, huh, doll? Well, can’t say it’s not fucking bitter, or that I don’t deserve it.”

“I didn’t do it with the purpose of hurting you,” you told him, feeling your tears start to build again. “I did it to get over you. To forget you.”

He brushed a tear from your lashes. “Did it work, doll?” he asked, voice low. “Did you forget? Are you over it?”

You hadn’t. Of course you fucking hadn’t. But you didn’t want him knowing that. Not fully; it was enough though, knowing that he’d felt even a fraction of the jealousy you’d felt. “Hard to say,” you told him, instead. “Maybe the twenty-ninth time’ll be the charm.”

Bucky spluttered and gasped for breath. “TWENTY-NINTH TIME?!? Are you telling me you’ve fucked twenty-eight pieces of shit since you’ve been down here?!” Almost as soon as his frustration burst from him itself, it had died out. “Not my business,” he said, though you could tell he was struggling. 

You’d had enough tormenting him for the night, so you snuggled further into his chest. “Not a single one of them made me forget for a second,” you told him, tilting your head up to look into his eyes. Bucky chuffed and leaned down to kiss the top of your head, and for the first time in months, you felt a hint of the safety you used to feel with him. It was small, but it was there, a tiny ember in a fire you’d feared had long died out. With a rattling sigh, you rested your head against his chest as he continued to rock you, and soon, you were lulled asleep to the sound of his steady, familiar, beloved heartbeat.

<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

[juunebuggy]

I've been reading Dungeon Meshi and the cover for chapter 52 really stood out to me:

I think this cover so perfectly demonstrates the core themes that have been set up throughout the series thus far and also represents the characters really interestingly. Specifically the differences in their upbringings through the act of eating.

(Analysis under the cut ^_^)

First off, Laios and Falin are eating alone because they left home early in life and only have had eachother. They've had other party members but they've never enjoyed the toudens company like the two think they do, especially Laios. The two are alone because often times their party members don't actually care for them or see them as friends.

Marcille is eating in a cafeteria at her magic school, the composition is symmetrical to show the rigid lifestyle of the school and show how routine it is. It was a core time in marcilles life because she was happy and because it was structured. Often times, structure is the most comfortable thing someone can have, even if it is ultimately fleeting. School will end eventually and most of the connections you make are temporary but still effect us.

Chilchuck is eating with his family, showing the importance of his family to him. I really like this one in particular because even if his family is important to him, he'll always keep them at an arms length. His face is the only one shown, showing this about him. His face is also being cleaned by another person, showing the need for vulnerability and letting your gaurd down around people you care for, but also how Chilchuck is unwilling to do that.

Senshi is eating alone, he doesn't have a table either, showing how he lived in the dungeon for a long time and how he didn't have anyone to feed or care for even if it was something he deeply longed for. He's alone because he doesn't have anyone that could be there for him anymore, no family, no friends. I'm crying actually.

Finally, with Izutsumi she's eating with another person. Her table maners are poor, she can't hold chop sticks correctly and she's giving away the food she doesn't enjoy. We've seen this about her countless times but it's really amplified by this because it shows that she's always been like this, it's ingrained in her behaviour because no one either cared enough to try to teach her to be polite or never properly made an effort to. I'm sure Maizuru would try to fix her maners, but wouldn't do it in a thoughtful caring way that'd be actually helpful for izutsumi. She'd probably try to "whip her into shape" rather than treat her with compassion and patience.

All of these really accurately show how important connections are, how you need people. You need someone that will never treat you poorly, someone that will stick with you through thick and thin because they genuinely love you. You need the simplicity of routine, you need people that gravitate in and out of your life, those connections are important and often temporary but mean the most in the time you knew them. You need family, people you can let your gaurd down around and be truly happy with, even if it's hard to. You need people to care for, people you can feed and love in the simplest terms of helping them. And finally, you need people who teach you, people who will be there for you with kindness and treat you with compassion even when you are doing what they deem as bad.

I'm still not finished with this series but I genuinely love it so much so far. I'm barely halfway through and it's developed emotionally impactful and deeply honest themes and ideas that really strike a cord with me. It's so interesting and I can't wait to finish the series and better understand these characters ^_^

Thank you for reading all the way through!! Feel free to add your own bits of analysis or additional food for thought :33 (no spoilers tho please since I've still not finished the series)

#dunmeshi #dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #falin touden #falin dungeon meshi #laios touden #laios dungeon meshi #marcille donato #marcille dungeon meshi #senshi of izganda #senshi dungeon meshi #chilchuk tims #chilchuck dungeon meshi #izutsumi dungeon meshi #izutsumi #long post #text post #analysis #dungeon meshi analysis

[seventhcallisto]

A PROMISE IS A SWEAR ! giom — chpt. 1

Synopsis. Matz gains a new district and a new member. The same member who trails a bunny to the den and introduces the beginning of obsession for the leaders.

Warnings. Violence. Physical harm. Und3rag3 tattooing. Teenagers(that needs it's own tw). Gang symbols. cigarett3 b3rn. Harm. And emotional harm and arguing. Please read giom masterlist before continuing.

Tuesday.

Positively, you were furious. After a not so nice call from a local man you know —your neighbor to be exact— you were mumbling up a storm. Excusing yourself through the last hour of your job just so you could catch a certain someone in the act.

With your work uniform on and a scowl on your face. Hiking up a hill through a run-down alleyway full of creeps and illegal activities. You finally caught sight of the person you'd been there to catch.

"Get off of me!" You snatched the teenager up by his arm, pinching him through his hoodie. "Jihoon, if you don't walk your skinny ass legs down this hill, I'll drag you," you stomped your heel clad foot, whisper yelling at the young man.

Jihoon was always causing problems, so threatening him like this was most likely not going to get him to listen. His face shriveled up. "You're not my mom!" He hissed back, equally furious - most likely due to the fact you had just pulled him from his group of boyfriends. Right in the middle of selling a pair of off branded shoes- and as soon as they saw you - pretended nothing was going on.

Irritation, through a false guise of shock, littered their faces as you tore and prodded the younger man away from his group of mis fit friends.

"Lee Jihoon," you whisper yelled to him this time, turning his body towards you. You take on the anger in his eyes with a frustrated scowl to clash. "Go and tell your friends you'll see them later, We're going home."

His face was turning red from embarrassment. But he knew you wouldn't back down, especially how stubborn he knows you to be. He smacked your palm off his jacket, huffing out a breath of air and turning towards the group he's with.

Within a few more seconds, he was storming past you. Hunched and full of anger as he made his way out of the entrance of the alleyway.

"Do you understand what you're doing, jihoon? It's illegal!" His footsteps rang loud on the wood of the apartment, ignoring your words- hardly bothering to take off his shoes at the entrance.

Before you could get out another frantic sentence out, he was turning his entire body your way, a snarl to his lips that resembled a dog. "What does it matter!? You're never home anyway! The cops can't pin shit on me-"

"Watch your mouth!" You yelled back, eyes widening. "I'm never home cause I am working! Don't you get that? These nice things you have- the school you go to! I have to pay for all of it somehow!" You gestured to his bedroom, posters and nick nacks littered about. "If I don't work, you can't have these things," your eyebrows furrowed. It was always so frustrating talking to him- with the exact copy of his mother's attitude.

He scoffed, "Whatever" he walked away from you, closing his door with a harsh slam.

These little outbursts would burn and simmer, like the crust on a volcano.

You stepped outside- to have a moment to yourself. Calming down from such a heightened situation- it wasn't good for you to let it bubble. But with jihoon- raising him, it was hard.

The silence of the evening gave you some peace of mind. And despite the situation of your day. You were beginning to feel relaxed, listening to the crickets and the distant sound of cars- cats- and the occasional dog barking.

"Tough day?" Changbin beckoned your attention, his large arms crossed over the balcony, you glanced to your door, having realized he heard everything.

"Yes- well, tough to my standards anyway." You laughed lightly, sighing. Changbin tilted his head at you, taking a long drag of his cigarette. "If it helps.. I know a lot of guys who went through this rebellious phase." he gestured to your apartment door, seemingly talking about jihoon. "They usually outgrow it, yknow, teenagers always act out. I know, I sure did."

You chortle at that. Palming your head as you looked out over the city, finally, you turned to meet changbins eyes, his presence having grown closer, right next to you on the railing. Comfortably, you sat with him for a second longer. "You? Rebellious?" You grinned. The fun- gentle man next to you, the one you've known for at least four years. And still have yet to properly get to know each other.

He laughed, his face scrunching. "What? Do I not seem rebellious enough?" He nudged your shoulder with his elbow, pouting. You laughed again. "No, no, I just wasn't expecting that, considering you're a -" You stopped short, remembering what jihoon had said earlier, you cleared your throat in the silence. He finished for you, glancing out to the city as well. "A cop?"

He leaned back over the railing with a sigh, nodding his head. "I heard that too. He's a bit cocky, considering he lives next to one." Changbin murmured. You shook your head, embarrassed on behalf of the teenager under your care. "I'm sorry-" "don't be. I gave my mom a hard time, too. He'll learn." The man shrugged off your apology, another drag of his cigarette, before he dabbed it out, fiddling with the end.

"But I'm not his mom. He has a reason to give me a hard time." You sighed heavily, letting the words flow before you cut them off, biting your lip. Changbin noticed, he's a keen man, a detailed man, it was a part of his job. He shook his head, twisting his body towards you.

Before he could come up with a sentence, you smiled gently. "Thanks for calling me, I hate when he does that" you groaned, remembering how upsetting it was to witness the young man attempt to brute force his way into getting another schoolmate to buy the pair of shoes they laid out.

Whatever jihoon had been doing wasn't legal. And you knew- you know. So, of course, changbin would know too - he was a cop after all, a detective to be exact, it was his job to notice these things. "Maybe a little juvie would do him some good," you sighed, a poor attempt at a joke- yet changbin still laughed heartily.

"If you need someone to scare the piss outta him, let me know, I've got a few people in mind." Changbin pocketed the end of his cigarette, bumping your elbow with his just as he left.

Wednesday. Always full of woe.

The downpour of rain filtered out the chatter of the company hongjoong was kept in. Barked laughter and forced smiles as the people around him conversed. The only person to take any interest in it was on his right. Seonghwa could make up excuses for the lack of attention his partner was providing. But the grin on the peak of hongjoongs cupids bow was driving Hwa wild with curiosity.

"What has you so happy?" The taller of the two murmured under his breath, his companion heard it - and with a clear of his throat, peaked over his glasses to the dark-haired man. "I'll tell you later"

Seonghwa sighed, bringing his glass of champagne to his lips. "Later couldn't come sooner," he replied with a sigh.

Hongjoong was in a better mood than he had been any other time of the week, with the stress that comes with a business- especially as big as this one- he could finally catch a breath of fresh air.

With one long sigh, the car door finally snapped shut, with seonghwa sitting right beside him.

"Where to?" Jongho, the leaders trusted men (and occasional driver) asked as he glanced through the rear view mirror, his brown hair framing his eyes. Hongjoongs smile perked up, seonghwa had noticed. "You know where jongho" hongjoong waved his question off with a smile, shrugging into his large fur coat.

Seonghwas attention turned back to the blonde seated next to him. "So? Where to?" Seonghwa copied jongho, questioning the shorter- yet beaming man. Hongjoong shifted in his seat, his grin faltering when his tongue poked his cheek. "You'll see." hongjoong kept the secret, seonghwa could argue– but it was typical of the younger to be so secretive sometimes.

Once the sleek black car had rolled to a stop. The evening had set, and finally, the moon was beginning to cast its beams across the streets. Seonghwa took notice of the passing buildings. Unease, unsure of the surroundings- matz hadn't stepped this far out of their comfort zone in a while unless there was a meeting. So the rural area, compared to the city, was a stark contrast to his scenery setting.

Practically bouncing out of his seat, hongjoong ushered seonghwa out of his own as soon as the fur covered man swung open his door. Of course- he was happy about something. And seonghwa was beginning to have a clue.

His eyebrow tilted up at the bubbly, shade wearing man- contrasting against seonghwa who was dressed in the best suit for the earlier occasion. He pocketed his hands, watching hongjoong with curious eyes.

In his right, hongjoong spun with the proudest grin on his face. Gesturing to the open area, a park, where seonghwa had recalled only ever passing by once- back when they were meeting with another acquaintance. Hongjoong beckoned the older man over, lacing his hands over a railing, with one other foot on the steps. He stood proudly over the peering hill, a grin still prominent on his face.

Ah. That's what it was. "You could have just told me," seonghwa mentioned with a sigh, running his hand over his hair and fixing any loose threads. Joong chuckled, "it wouldn't be special that way" he sighed, leaning on the railing- childishly, unable to sit still. Seonghwa laughed airily. "I suppose so, considering it's a wide district." Seonghwa murmured, taking his spot next to the blonde.

Hongjoong shifted his body towards the taller, still looking out over the railing at the quiet below. "It's ours now." Hongjoong whispered, almost unable to believe it himself- crime wasn't easy in this area, the cops were strict, which ended up with tight attitudes and unwilling participants.

But finally, hongjoong found a willing distributor, and he seemed permanent for the time being- until he could be replaced.

"I've got a few of them out here already, watching." Hongjoong gestures to four distinct areas, seonghwa perched his arms on the rail. Glittery lights catching every which way. He turned his attention back to the ecstatic man. "And who's watching them?" He hummed.

There was hardly any trust for the underlings, not to say they weren't loyal to the cause, just that they were easily swayed and amateurs, so of course, seonghwa had to ask.

"Mingi"

Seonghwa took in a hiss of breath, the most loyal of all- a little clumsy though. Hongjoong could sense seonghwas thought. "This one is his. He practically begged for it." Joong sniffled a laugh, recalling the plead of the other member. "He said he could take care of it."

There was a silence for a moment before seonghwa spoke up.

"Do you trust him?" He asked. Hongjoong tilted his head, sliding his glasses to lay on the top of his head. He turned his face towards seonghwa for the first time during their conversation, and nodded.

"I trust you, don't I?" Hongjoong answered.

Thursday.

The following day was just as bad as you thought. Things may seem easier the next morning. But jihoon had still ignored you, even as you prepared him a breakfast along with his fresh uniform. A scowl on his pouty- still childish face. It made you want to turn in and wave the white flag.

So, when you sit at the empty kitchen table, staring at the packaged food –that had been coldly left behind– and reminiscing on how you could hardly get the same treatment from your parents growing up, do you begin to feel the ache of missing your best friend.

You couldn't dwell on it. Not when you had work.

Jihoon is as difficult as his mother. Purgatory thoughts playing in your mind over and over. Although your best friend Lia wasn't shy from being mean - borderline - a bully, she was still loyal and caring, and she loved jihoon. She would have had the best lines to say and tell; to convince him to get his act straight. But she wasn't here. And as his godmother, you had the responsibility to play mommy.

You really wished she was here. She'd know how to take care of these things. You've always been the softer one in the duo.

It's past 12, and you have an early shift tomorrow. You sit at the kitchen table, dazed and daydreaming as you wait. When you think over what could be happening, bile rises in your stomach. Jihoon hasn't returned home, and his phone is apparently off. He has been gone for hours. More so than usual.

What can you even do?

The front door is quietly unlocked in the silence.

You spring from the kitchen chair, watching the door be pushed in, followed by a hooded figure who doesn't bother to flicker on any of the lights.

Your hands are spinning him around the next second, although jihoon is taller than you- the veracity of your movement tugs him to face you.

You pull the hood down next, glaring his bruised face in-between broken orbs and clenched teeth, looking at the fresh cuts along his lip and nose. "Where have you been?" You say, as calmly as you can muster. Jihoons shoulders fall. "Out," he mustered, shrugging his shoulder past you to pull off his jacket.

You pull him back by his upper arm before he can go any farther. He winces but makes no move to push you off. His head is tilted towards the floor, and his breathing is labored - tired from whatever activity he had just gotten up to.

"Jihoon, your mom wouldn't want this -" his hand snakes out of your grasp as if you burnt him. "What did you just say?" He scoffs, clicking his tongue. You don't falter. "Yo-" "No, no, you don't get to do that. You don't get to use that against me cause I don't even know what she was like." You go to cut him off. "You know that's not true-"

His foot meets the stool as he kicks it frustrated, a silent curse coming from his mouth.

"I don't know if anything you say is true, I don't even know if you're really someone she'd leave me with to take care of. It's all just bullshit anyway, right?" His snarky tone wavers, his throat pinching close the longer he stays on this subject.

"I'm going to bed" he brushes you off once more when you attempt to reach out.

And you have the same lump in your throat. You don't know what to say yourself. You don't know how to fix this. You don't know what you're doing.

Friday.

Halfway through your shift, do you get another dreadful call- voice-mail this time, since you can't answer your phone during school hours. On the other end is changbin- but this time, he's just dropping information off for you.

"Hey y/n, I'm sorry to be telling you this, but -" he takes a heavy sigh, "one of my colleagues told me about seeing a kid similar to jihoon.. coming from this new operation we're in the middle of. It's a big nightclub - full of colors - hell, you can see it from a mile away, so just ask around. It just got up and running, we - don't tell anyone I said this - but we're looking at charges if he happens to be caught in there. It's not safe for him. that's all. Call me when you get this- we can go together. Do not go on your own. I'll talk to you later."

The end of Friday is full of dread. The streets are full of characters for the night. Fools and drunks and corner girls and the occasional normal group of friends, no matter who it is- you ask.

"The club full of bright lights?"

A man finally repeats your question. He's not entirely sober, nor is he blackout either. He points over his shoulder, giving lazy directions. But as you go, you thank him. Changbin was right. You couldn't miss it from a mile now that you were in a neighboring alleyway- heaving from having run everywhere to find this place.

The front is guarded with men in jackets, smoking cigarettes, and scaring the stragglers who stare a little longer than they should.

You power through, attempting to blend in with a crowd of rowdy girls who are easily let in- You're stopped by the collar of your shirt, pulled out of it and faced to face with a scarred man, eyeing you up and down.

"Are you trying to sneak in? Hey, why didn't you just ask to be let in? What kind of shit are ya trying to pull?" His heavy palm smacks your cheek, pat pat, your skin reverbs from the tiny hits- its a slap to your pride in a way. You scowl at the stranger.

"Theres someone in there I need to get" you defend yourself, pushing the man off your collar. His snarky grin drops into a scowl, the cigarette dangling from the corner of his lip dangerously. "I'm not buying that princess." The man flicks the ash your way, glancing to the other man on the door.

Your appearance is a contrast to everyone else. Your in your best dress for parent-teacher day, having cut it short to find jihoon. You stick out like a sore thumb. Fuck. You're really not getting past this guy.

You had to do something.

"He's underage! He's a kid, a kid shouldnt be in there- If I can't go in and get him- I'm gonna call the cops!" You're making a scene now- you're panicking, you have no idea if jihoon is okay, no idea whether or not he's doing drugs or getting himself hurt.

You're scared for him. But the glance in both of the men's eyes is your top worry. Threats about the cops coming around seems to gather attention, onlookers glancing your way and beginning to crowd the front door. "Cops?" The first man laughs, snatching your arm up with an icy grip that has you hissing in pain. "Are you threatening us? Ma'am, that's not proper. We're running a business here." His tone is attempting to be lighthearted, but the danger behind his grip and smile is driving the breath out of your lungs.

You're dragged inside by the same guy, the lights, the music- everything screams danger with this situation, not only that but the faces- the troubled people around here is nothing safe. You catch glimpses of people snorting different color substances off each table, tiny shiny and distinct pills littered around. Smoke and the burning smell of cigarettes- and something else, something heavy and damp, funky smelling. Earthy. You body makes contact with the door to a room and you're pushed into it abruptly.

Your feet stumble forward towards the middle of the room, where you finally find your balance. Cards are placed on a wide and round glass table and this place smells the worse of the earthy smoke, it clings to every surface, making you cough. When you do, the man in the center of the red velvet couch in front of you peaks up over his glasses.

His hair is white- silver almost, long enough to tuck behind his ears. He gestures with a ringed finger to the man with you to speak.

"She's threatening to talk to the cops."

"She a regular?"

"No, never seen her around here before"

The silver haired man takes a heavy sigh,, he parts from the woman and men around him to meet you face to face. He's tall- intimidating. His height is no joke. He scans you up and down with dark eyes. Emotions you can't grasp on his features.

Whoever the people are, they aren't bothering to look your way, quiet and head down. Sheep's amongst a wolf. He's obviously in charge here. "Look- I don't know who you are but you have kids in here- this isn't a place they should be-"

The flicker of a lighter sounds through the quiet room. The sound of music muffled behind the door gaurded by the man and another. You watch the silver haired stranger take a drag of a cigarette after flipping his lighter closed, the red pulse of light igniting in front of you, it silences you quickly.

"Listen." He starts with a hum, nodding his head as the smoke hits your face, he takes your hand in his, gently patting his large, calloused fingers over yours. You hesitate to let him have it, unsure of his motive. "I understand your concern, but we don't have kids here sweetheart, we don't allow that. Youth is important to our future, right? Isn't that what everyone thinks?" He glances around shortly, switching out the hand holding the cigarette to cage your palm in-between. You can feel the heat of it, see the ash starting to form at the top.

"That's not true." You whisper. His eyes squint. "You calling me a liar?" He murmurs, stepping closer.

"I'm calling bullshit" you hold your head high.

It's silent. Air so tense and thick, you can't tell if it's the smoke or the feeling lingering in your chest. But this man, he's not safe. None of this is. And you're really testing your luck here. "I need-" you start again. But the sudden burn of specks on the back of your hand makes you whimper in pain, attempting to draw back your limb from the man.

He holds it tightly in his, flicking ash onto the back of it, the sting makes you hiss, before he brings the cigarette back to his full lips, your fingers pale from the force.

He takes a drag, blowing it in your face once again.

"I don't like being called a liar." He pouts into his words, dusting the ash across your skin with his thumb, a warning at most. But it stings slightly when he flips your palm over to examine the lines.

"You come in here and threaten my place, I've only been nice to you this entire time." He holds his free hand over his heart. "What do you want exactly, sweetheart?" He squints down at you. The nickname makes your stomach lurch uncomfortably.

"I told the guy at the front. There's someone in here i need-" "and who is that someone?" You go quiet, squinting up your nose at him. He stares back for the next seconds. One.. two.. three-

There's the stinging burn to your palm, it aches and you screech in pain. Attempting to bring your hand back from the heat. A cigarette that is searing into the soft skin in the middle of your palm. You wail at it, a pain so uncomfortable you forgot it even felt real. The ash darkens when he puts it out. Smearing it across your palm. His eyes are unlike what you've seen, no remorse or mercy, just evil.

"I'm not going to ask again. Giving me attitude when I've been sweet-" "i-im not please-" you beg, anything to stop the pain and sting on your palm, to get the man before you to stop before he does something else, something worse. "Shh, quiet, I'm talking." he pats his palm over the open wound. You whimper once more, tears welling in your eyes. It hurts.

Before his lips fall open again. The door behind you swings open.

It's the other man from the front door. Followed by.. a few individuals, you can hardly see with the blur in your eyes.

"Raeun?" The second man to walk through questions. He's taller- his body adorned in what seems to be the closest thing to a suit. A pair of glasses and short- almost buzzcut black and blonde hair. Raeun- the man who grips your palm looses his grip, and you pull it as quickly as you can to your chest.

"Mingi" he huffs. "Come to join so soon?" He laughs, glancing to you. The man, from towards the entrance does the same. "Yeah, Came as soon as I got the go ahead" mingi replies plainly, walking further into the room. "Leave" he gestures to the people across the couch.

An array of limbs and people pass you, but- when you turn to leave, you're stopped by him. "You, stay." Mingi swings his finger out to call you over to him. Gesturing to the couch.

You really don't know what's going on. But mingi is gentle as he grabs your palm, glancing for approval- you don't respond.

"Seonghwa said no more burns, whats this then?" Mingi tilts the wound towards raeun. The same man scoffs. "She said she was gonna call the cops." "And you think this was gonna stop her?" Mingi groans, letting your hand go. You cradle it back to your chest, watching the tall man step up to raeun.

"Get your shit and go, you're out" mingi turns on his heel, stepping back out of the silver man's way to let him leave. Raeun scoffs loudly, "you can't kick me out of here, I made this place what it is-"

"Yeah and where did that lead you?" Mingi waves his hand out to the club. Raeuns face drops even further into anger. "Fuck- is this about her? We can just pay the bitch off-"

"Raeun" mingi hisses his name. The tension could be cut with a knife and you try everything to make yourself smaller in it. "Get. Out." Mingi points to the door.

Raeuns fit seems to cease, a smile creeping up his skinny features. "Oh, you got the position didn't you? The captain finally gave you something huh?" Raeun laughs loudly, holding his stomach that pokes out of a silky cheetah print shirt.

"Which means you're out." Mingi confirms. "Go." He says once more, it's a threat, the tone speaks for itself. Raeun doesn't bother once more, kicking the door open on his way out.

Your heart drops when the door slams shut behind him. Your labored breath calming to accommodate the quiet in the room. Mingi heaves a heavy sigh, taking a seat on the far side of the couch. His hand rakes through his messy hair, parting the spikes to docile them down. With a single hand in his hair and another reaching out for a glass- presumably full of whiskey, mingi finally glances your way.

You're a shaking aching mess, it doesn't take a genius to notice you're not for this lifestyle. You're dressed like a librarian in the midst of a nightclub for fuck's sake. Your palm is clutched tightly, as if you're attempting to squeeze the pain away. Your eyebrows are knitted and you're curled into yourself. Lost in thought.

"What are you doing here?" Mingi breaks the silence. You jump, turning your head his way.

"I'm looking for someone." You quietly answer. Mingi nods, lifting the whiskey to his lips. "Who?" He asks before he takes a gulp of the alcohol. "A boy, his- he goes by jihoon, he's five-eight- probably taller now- i - we haven't checked in a bit, he's got messy an-and curly black hair- it, well.. he hasn't let me trim it in a while and-" your rambles encourages a bubble in your throat, a sob beginning to form.

You could have gotten hurt worse, you still can, you could die here, you could be trafficked, mingi seems capable of it if he was able to test someone like raeun. And now the only thoughts in your mind are how you wish jihoon hadn't been mad, how you wish he could know you love him- in case you do happen to die, or end up missing. How the last thing you did with him was argue.

Your throat closes in when an image of the younger version of the boy shows up in your minds eye. The sob breaks out "he's just a kid, he's all i got- I'm all he's got, I don't want him here, please" you beg, for his sake, more than yours- mingi is so quiet, his aura is scary, he's not like anyone you've ever met before.

"Hey," he calls softly, your face twisting to see his. His eyes have caved, soft and understanding, his eyebrows furrowing. "I'm going to go get your boy, and you're not coming back. You hear me?"

Mingi makes his statement clear just as he gets up to leave.

The breath lodged in your throat exits as you nod. The dull ache of your hand plays at the back of your mind - finally, you'll be able to see jihoon, and you'll both leave.

You'll leave. Together.

There's no windows in this room. There is no light besides the TV in the corner. It flickers with a show you don't know, a familiar actor beating down on multiple men. Your eyes are blurry - and you wonder if you happen to have a first aid kit at home, possibly - if you haven't used all of the content on jihoon from his many fights and bruises. It feels like an eternity while you wait, hoping for light in the darkness.

You hope jihoons okay.

Your hope is answered when the door once again swings open. Mingi is holding jihoon by the scruff of his neck, pushing him into the room, but he sidesteps out of the way to let someone else in.

The cast of the club lights create a halo around the man, the beads of the entrance jingle when he steps inside, like crystals, the light bounces off every inch of the glass beads, illuminating the man in the fur coat from behind.

His hair is a vibrant blue, His nose has a define point, his lips are naturally plump- He's pretty. Which is a surprise. And you thought Raeun was the boss. No.. it's this man. With his cream colored fur coat and his tight leather jeans, a buckle with a silver star to top it off and a sheer black and white top. His shoes are leather, reptilian in design. A pair of dark glasses slotted against his forehead when he pushed them up. Your eyes meet.

It's dangerous. He's dangerous. Everything screaming. This is the type of man you'd see on TV, draped in luxurious brands and with a snarky attitude to come with it, a past- and scars along his figure, fuck- this guy is no good. He's a snake in man's skin. A wolf in sheep's clothing. And you can tell.

"Mingi" his eyes never stray from yours, as if stalking prey, his voice is light and inviting. Mingi glances his way, then yours with a silent response to the man "captain." He pushes jihoon forward and drags the hilt of his shirt up. You stand- to protest, to tell them don't touch him.

But the ink along jihoons skin is a sign of surprise. Of fear to your racing heart.

"Your boy here," the captain pats the young boy on his shoulder, jihoon grimaces, head down turned. "Has our symbol, he has the mark of ateez, and that means he won't be leaving anytime soon."

The lines of an 'A' are sharp, a circle to encase it, it spans almost the entirety of jihoons left pec. It's fresh ink. your stomach churns and twists. You think you're going to be sick.

"Jihoon is one of ours now." He finishes, clicking his tongue.

"Jihoon?" You quietly call. For him to say it's a joke, a sick one- but his face remains the same. Furrowed and ashamed.

Tears well up in your eyes once again. You've failed - failed as a guardian and failed your best friend. You failed the little boy you were given, and you've failed his father and future.

"Please. Please- okay- he's a child- he's only fourteen!" You plead with the man, slipping to your knees, desperate as you are- you're willing to do anything to prevent jihoon from throwing away his future.

The captains' fingers hold a coin- something you haven't seen before then. The men peer back at you in the dark of the room. "I-" "the ink is already there." He nudges jihoons left side, the boy groans in pain, most definitely sore.

"There's no changing that," he nods towards you, flicking the younger boy's cheek. His eyes are demeaning when he stares down at your figure. This all seems like a joke to him. With one final glance to your shaking body, the vibrant haired man turns away towards the door.

"Please. I'll do anything." You beg.

His steps falter. The coin makes contact with the metal of his rings as he plays with it. It dings every so often, like a clock in the silence over and over.

Clink, clink, clink, clink- ...

"Don't make promises you can't keep." You can hear the perk to the man's voice, a smile through his tone. "I can keep it." You confirm without another beat, gulping back your tongue.

"I can keep my promises."

"I swear on my heart."

#ateez fanfic #yandere ateez x reader #x reader #hongjoong x reader x seonghwa #hongjoong x reader #yandere hongjoong #yandere seongwa #yandere fic #yandere ateez #matz x reader #yandere matz #yandere matz x reader #tw!!! #seonghwa x reader #mafia ateez #mafia matz #non idol au #yandere #read at your own risk #ft. mingi

[stilljuststardust]

Hey my sister wants to shift, she’s 13, what is the most basic “here’s what you need to know and never listen to shifttok” song you’ve got for her?

∘₊✧Explanation✧₊∘

Thanks for the ask! I'm sorry this took me so long I've been having some health issues.

Disclaimer, please read:

There are SO many different perspectives on how it works. Mine is not the only one and though all perspectives are valid, I'm going to assume that you chose to ask me because you are familiar with my blog and how I personally view shifting.

I'm going to try to leave LOA out of it but that is how I personally view shifting.

What is shifting?

Shifting is when you become aware of the life you're living in another reality. The reality you shift into is just as real as the one you are currently in. It will feel real because it is.

How to shift

Strictly speaking, you don't have to do anything to shift. How people shift is so personal and customized and nothing is necessary to do it but I'll try my best to give "instructions" anyway.

You decide you're in your DR, you decide that it is true and it has worked, ignore anything outside of yourself that tells you otherwise, and know that it is true because you freaking said it was.

You decide you've shifted and ignore anything but that decision. That is IT. Don't worry about this reality, it doesn't matter. Don't worry about any aspects of this reality you can still hear see or feel, they won't stop you from shifting don't let them distract you.

ALL you have to do is become aware of your DR. I know that it can be hard to conceptualize that for a beginner so most people use methods.

Methods

To start off: It is not necessary to have a method. Many people just intend to shift and then they do. That's it. You don't have to do anything, however I recognize that for someone who isn't familiar with shifting "just intend to" is probably an unhelpful answer.

Most methods can be divided into two categories, awake and asleep methods.

Awake methods revolve around becoming aware that you are already in your DR.

Asleep methods revolve around becoming aware that you will wake up in your DR.

Common features in both kinds of methods:

Meditation

Visualization

Affirmations

Affirmations are pretty straightforward, you repeat a sentence that aligns with your goal over and over. "I have shifted. I am in my DR."

What I personally do

I robotically affirm all day "I am going to shift tonight" robotic affirmations are just repeated affirmations without feeling. So all day I just say it to myself again and again.

I then take some time to sit down and imagine my desired reality, my favorite street, pretty things I would see throughout the day, stuff that grounds me in the feeling of it.

Then I just lay down and tell myself I'm there no matter what. No matter what I feel hear or see I am there.

Doesn't matter I'm there.

Frequently asked questions

I am choosing to put these first because I feel like they really clarify what shifting is and how it works.

Will I have memories of my destination reality once I have shifted?

Yes, you have always existed in that reality and you have a life's worth of memories there. When you become aware of a reality and of the version of yourself that exists within it you also become aware of your memories there.

How does scripting work/ what is it?

It is a description of the reality you'd like to shift into, usually written. Think of it as an the address of the reality you'd like to shift to. You specify the details of the life you would like to become aware of. Having one is not necessary.

Can I script [insert anything here] ?

Yes. You can script anything, and I mean anything. If you can imagine it, it is possible. The realities we shift to do not have to follow the rules of this one and what is impossible here doesn't have to be impossible there. You want to script the sky is purple? Then it is. You want to have wings? Congratulations you can. I cannot stress this enough, ANYTHING you want can be scripted.

Relevant posts

Your desired reality already exists

An old post of my own shifting routines nothing listed is necessary, the list exists to give ideas not instructions

How to visualize

A good post on shiftok misinformation by my awesome mutual

#shiftblr #shifting antis dni #reality shifting #shifting community #shifting #shifting realities #shifting reality #desired reality #shifting blog #shiftinconsciousness #shift #shifters #shifter #anti shifters dni #reality shift #reality shifter

[yourdakg]

Donation Found 2!

It took a little while longer than expected, but we finally found an appropriate donor for Brick! Brick was in desperate need of a donation. As the owner of a high quality gym and something of a fitness influencer, he was catching a lot of shit for not showing any empathy to his clientele or, in general, people who weren't in peak condition.

Maybe that's what scared some donors off, the sheer ego of having to maintain a physique like Brick's. But, by God, he paid the $325,000 to get his new body. Did he read the contract? No. But he insisted the customer is always right and he demanded action from the team at Turnaround Technologies.

Not that he could help how he looked, he was always athletic as a kid. Football, wrestling, water polo, gymnastics. He hit the weights hard as soon as high school started. And now he's a fitness enthusiast's wet dream. Let's remind everyone where Brick is starting this journey:

But thankfully we were able to find someone who fit the bill for Brick. This is someone who has the ego, the drive, and... honestly, a lot of the same toxic masculinity that Brick has. Just in a different form. So honestly it's a perfect match. Which we were relieved to find. After all, Brick doesn't fully understand the permanence of this yet. So let's take a look at our donor plate:

Meet Lemmy Chungus. A man who is almost permanently online, a moderator for the r/gayincel subreddit, a prolific user of 4chan, and a man with a subscription to 12 OnlyFans pages and PornHub Premium. He has an interesting take on why this exchange should work.

Donor Statement: This world has winners and losers. I am naturally born to be a dominant male, and it's becoming clear to me that Brick doesn't understand the role he is supposed to have. It's not fair that some buff fuckboy was deprived of the body he needs to match his true, inner self. It's obvious he wants this, so let's seal the deal and make this exhange.

I have to admit, we hear at Turnaround hadn't thought about it like that, adjusting two men into their, perhaps, more honest selves. It really is a public service. Both subjects are being stripped down, injected with serum, and placed in their uniforms as our technicians prepare the chambers.

Just prior to taking Brick's final "before" photo, he was informed that the contract had been signed, this medicine injected, and that his fate was sealed. Of course, we expected him to fight us a bit when told it was one way, one trip per lifetime, and permanent. Instead we were shocked that the young man started to cry.

Patient Statement: What do you mean permanent? What do you mean *sniff* 'new lot in life'? I don't understand why you're taking my designer underwear. I'll never wear it again? Wh-why not? I'll be fit again! What do you mean role adjustment? Huh? I dunno what a gaycel is. I don't spend a lot of time on the Internet. Whadda ya mean that's gonna be most of what I do now? *Sniffsob* I'm still an alpha. I *sniff* wanna change my mind. I don't understand. This body isn't legally mine anymore? I'm *sniff* I'll be a good boy, please!

So docile! He's really sliding into his new role quite well, and we're all very pleased. Brick was injected again when he saw the donor body, and his eyes almost went cross from shock. There will be a stiff financial penalty for requiring several staff members dragging his muscular body to the chamber.

The process was a difficult one. As the waves started to swing back and forth, Brick was grabbing his dick and squeezing his own pectorals as if to hold onto them. The beams and serums and molecule destabilization took days. It's like his body didn't want to assume a new role. But we held out hope that eventually the assault of our technology and pharmacology would win out and he would be shoved, unalterably, into his new body. So I'm happy to report the following:

As you can see, both men are now secured in their new bodies, roles, and lifestyles.

Patient Report: Ohhh God. It's hard to move, it's hard to move. I heard some fat guys had power, but he's... got none. I have none. Oh fuck. I'll get back in the gym and... look at him. What a slut, strutting around in that thong with a muscled up ass. Like he's some hotshot. He's not! Why does it make me so angry???

Donor Report: Chances are there a lot of other losers out there who have hot, buff bodies. Cute faces. Huge dicks. Guys who look like they should be on top, but know they're a beta bitch at heart. Stop being selfish. Ask for a donation today and let the real alphas assume their natural position.

#body swap #male body swap #mind swap #fit to fat #fat to fit #donationbodyswap #muscle theft #permanent

[heartateasee]

"Chapter Two"

Word Count: 5.6k

(Chapter two to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)

●・○・●・○・●

Today marks a month since my hometown show, which also means I’ve been back in LA officially for the same amount of time. I hadn’t really been out much since being here considering there was still a lot of rearranging to do with my house. For starters, it took a few weeks to get my home recording studio completely set up the way I needed it. I had also painted a lot of the walls, and worked on getting my patio to look like an oasis. 

My home was finally feeling like just that…home.

It’s been a while since I’ve had that feeling considering I was bouncing from place to place while touring - sleeping each night either in the van as we drove to another location, or a hotel if we had the time.

Having a place to call my own now is so refreshing. It finally feels like I’m settling down somewhere for the first time since I left home to pursue music. I’ve managed to make it completely me, and I’m proud of myself for that.

Another reason why I think I threw myself into renovating my house so much was due to the fact that I had seen Harry again. After five years, I saw someone who I had tried my hardest to forget.

But the sad thing was, it still wasn’t him.

I’ve made peace with the fact that my Harry is truly gone, and to be honest, I think it’s helped me push forward a bit when it comes to that healing. People really are telling the truth when they say sometimes you never properly heal - the pain just dulls. I think that’s how it will always be when it comes to the loss of Harry.

There’s nothing like speaking about someone as if they were dead when they’re still very much alive.

Regardless of me not really taking the time to see how things had changed in LA, I made myself a promise that today I’d be remedying that. I want to try to go and look for a few additional art pieces for both my living room and bathroom, and I also want to see if the old record store I used to shop at was still open.

That record store holds a lot of memories for me, and I hope to see that it’s still the same.

Looking at myself in the full length mirror in my room, I tug on a pair of black flared corduroys - pairing them with my trusty black platform Dr. Martens. I pull on a black tank top and tuck it into the waistband of my trousers before pulling on a black mesh top over that. I give myself a small nod as I fluff up my hair that I had already done, and I give my makeup one more glance as I head out of my bedroom.

With my small black purse over my shoulder, and my keys in my hand, I make my way outside and into my car. I start towards town, and I make the decision to go looking for some vinyls first since that’s what I’m most excited about.

As I drive, I take in the scenery around me, and I can see that there’s obviously been a lot of build up in the area since I was last living here. More apartment buildings, houses and shopping centers. It was the same, but it wasn’t - much like myself now that I’ve returned.

I feel a smile tug onto my lips as I see the sign for the record store, and I can’t help but let out a small laugh when I realize that’s thankfully one of the things that hasn’t changed at all. Pulling into the parking lot, I park and get out while feeling the giddiness in my stomach that at least something has remained the same.

The same old bell chimes as I step in the front door, and I look over to see there’s no one behind the counter currently. I can’t help but stop in my tracks as I look at it - covered with various bands stickers and doodles, it brings me right back to when I would come in here almost every day the summer after highschool.

“There she is!” Harry's voice bellows as I walk into the record store with a bag of Taco Bell in my hand - a drink carrier in the other. “And she brings me food?”

He dramatically looks up at the sky with his hands pressed together as if he were praying. “I don’t know what I did for whoever is up there to give me Marlowe Finch as my best friend, but I could kiss your ass right now for doing so.”

I can’t help but giggle at his words as I shake my head, and I make my way over to the counter. After making sure the bag and drinks are secure on the surface, I also push myself up onto it before dishing out the food.

“I got you the Mexican pizza combo with a Baja Blast,” I tell him as I pull out the box as well as setting his drink down by him. I make sure I also give him the taco that comes with it. “Oh, and I got you chips and cheese!”

I can feel Harry watching my every move as I set our food up for the two of us, and I look over to him once I finish - feeling my cheeks flush a bit. “What?”

Harry shakes his head as his bunny teeth clamp down on his bottom lip. “Nothing, just so lucky to have you - that’s all.”

“And I’m lucky to have you,” I don’t hesitate to say it back as I lift a hand up to fix the backwards hat he currently has on. He was growing his hair out, but was insistent on wearing hats. He looks like a true frat boy, which is a thing I always give him shit over. “Going to a party or something after your shift? You’re a little more dressed up than usual.”

“Yeah, one of the guys who’s in a local band invited me. He comes in here a lot to put up flyers for their gigs, and he said they’re having a pretty big house party,” Harry shrugs as he pulls the wrapper off his taco, slathering it with sauce before taking a massive bite.

I make a face as I watch him eat, and he reaches out to pinch my hip - eliciting a squeal from me.

“You don’t have to eat it like a starved animal, you know? It’s not going anywhere,” I tease with a wink as I bite into a piece of my chicken quesadilla. “But a house party sounds fun. Do you need me to pick you up later once you’re ready to leave it?”

“You know I’m not going to be drinking,” Harry says, pausing to take a sip of his Baja Blast. “I can just call an Uber or I can walk.”

“Harry,” I tilt my head to the side. “You know I don’t mind giving you rides, right? It lets me spend more time with you.”

I notice that Harry pauses on eating for a moment as he looks down at his feet before he speaks. “I don’t know. I just feel like a burden sometimes since I don’t have my own car.”

“Hey,” I place my food to the side for a moment, and I take his food from him to do the same before I place his hands in mine - giving them a squeeze. “You will never be a burden to me. Never. Do you understand?”

Harry purses his lips to the side, and I raise my eyebrows as if to enunciate my statement again. His shoulders deflate before he gives me a soft nod which causes me to smile.

“Good, glad we cleared that up,” I tell him as I start in on my food again. “Are they going to come and pick you up from here?”

He doesn’t answer me right away as he leans against the counter, pondering as he chews the bite he just took from his taco. “Why don’t you just come with me?”

“I don’t know, H,” I squirm slightly at the thought of being around people I’m not familiar. “It’s not like these people even have any idea who I am. They’ll probably think it’s weird if I just turn up with you.”

“Well, if they said something about it, then we’d leave,” Harry’s eyebrows narrow as he holds my eyes. “I wouldn’t want to be around those types of people anyway.”

I glance over at the clock to see he has about two hours left of his shift. “How about I think about it? I’ll just hang out until you’re done - that way I can take you anyway, yeah?”

Harry sends me that boyish grin of his that here recently has sent my heart fluttering, and he reaches over to dip one of his chips into the cheese before he’s extending it out to me. I roll my eyes playfully at him as I lean forward - capturing the chip between my teeth before letting it fall back onto my tongue.

“I think that sounds like a plan,” he tells me.

The sound of someone entering behind me causes me to come back to reality, and I immediately leave the main area of the store to head into one of the side rooms. I wasn’t even sure if the organization in here was the same as it used to be, but I just had to get away from that counter for a moment.

I spent so many days just sitting on top of that while I would watch Harry work, and half the time I’d be helping him get his stuff done so we could get out faster. All we cared about back then was playing music in my garage, so we always tried to get him out of the store as quickly as possible once his shift was through.

As I approach the section of shelves that was strictly for 80’s records, I decide that’s as good of a place to start as any. I begin to flip through the records while nibbling on the inside of my cheek as I do so.

I pull a few out that I know I’d be more than happy to have before continuing my way through the room. My attention gets caught for a moment by a blonde girl exiting out of the employee only room, and I can tell she’s heading back up towards the front while adjusting her clothes.

It’s only a few seconds later that I catch another body exiting the same room, but I keep my back slightly turned to them as I continue to sort through the vinyls.

Just as I’m about to grab a Talking Heads album, my attention is stolen once more by the sound of a high-pitched giggle, followed by a single name.

“Harry!”

I can’t help but flash my eyes over to the counter since I’ve made my way back towards that area, and I see Harry’s body wrapped around the girl I had seen just a few seconds ago.

“Stop it - you’ve already had me away from the customers for the last fifteen minutes,” the girl continues to laugh, acting as if she were trying to push him off of her, but it’s obvious she’s loving the contact from him.

Knowing I need to get out of here, I go to set the records down that I had in my hand, but I’m caught off guard by a gasp, and I can see the girl looking past Harry’s shoulder at me.

“Holy shit!” Harry is quick to look over his shoulder to see what she’s on about, and I watch his expression harden once he sets his sights on me. “You’re Marlowe Finch!”

The girl unravels herself from Harry, and she walks over to me with a large smile. I clear my throat when I realize I’m going to have to interact with her. Clearly she’s a fan, and I don’t want to come across as rude. My issue is with Harry - not her.

“Uh, hi, that’s me,” I nod, forcing a smile of my own.

“I was so bummed that I missed your show a few weeks ago, but this one was sick,” she gestures her thumb over her shoulder to Harry before crossing her arms over her chest. “So I stayed home too so I could be on standby, in case he needed me.”

I soon realize that he obviously lied to this girl about where he was that night considering he was very much at my gig, and not at home sick. He sends me a look, one that I quickly interpret as a warning, but all that does is cause me to get a bit angry.

“Funny seeing you here, Harry,” I say, raising an eyebrow at him. “Do you still work here too?”

The girl looks between the two of us for a moment - confusion etched on her face. “Wait, you guys know each other?”

Harry walks to stand behind the blonde after hearing that question, and I stifle a laugh at the fact that he hasn’t even talked about me once to her.

“Harry and I used to be best friends up until a few years ago.”

“What the hell?” She lifts her hand to hit the back of it lightly against Harry’s chest. “How come you’ve never told me this?”

I can’t lie and say that it doesn’t hurt to know that he really does just forget that I ever existed in his life. I’m actually a bit envious of him at the same time though. I wish I had the capability just to block out years of memories that I no longer wanted.

Harry remains silent, but the girl doesn’t wait for him to respond before she speaks again. “Well, I’m Rylan,” she says, extending her hand to me which I shake. “Are you staying in town for long?”

“Just moved back actually,” I nod. “I plan on being here for some time since I just finished up my tour, and I’m starting to work on my new album.”

“Oh, that’s so exciting! We should totally hang out sometime since you’re going to be sticking around.”

I can see the annoyance written all over Harry’s face as Rylan continues to ramble, and I send him a slight smirk. The one thing he wants to avoid, he simply can’t - all due to the fact his girlfriend is currently making over me.

“Well, if Harry still has my number, it’s the same, so…” I trail off with a shrug, and Rylan claps her hand. 

“I can’t believe I’m going to be hanging out with you. I feel like I'm in a dream right now,” she shakes her head before seeing the records I didn’t get a chance to put down. “If you’re all set, I can ring those up for you.”

“Sure.”

Rylan takes the vinyls from me, and she turns her back towards both Harry and I to walk towards the counter. As I walk past Harry, we allow our eyes to run over each other before I’m looking back ahead to properly check-out. I can still feel his sight on me as I hand my card over to Rylan who’s bagging up my records. She extends the bag to me over the surface - a large smile on her face.

“It was nice to meet you, Marlowe. Hopefully we can all hang out soon. I’m sure you and Harry have a lot to catch up on.”

For some reason, that simple phrase causes a knot to grow in my throat, and I force a smile. “Yeah, I bet. See you around.”

Turning towards the door, I keep my head down as I walk past Harry, and once I’m outside, I let out a breath that I didn’t even know I had been holding in. I quickly get in my car, and I’m thankful that I had parked facing away from the windows of the building as I place my records in the passenger seat. I stare blankly at my steering wheel as I take a minute to gather myself.

This was a mistake. I should’ve never moved back here.

I should’ve just planted roots somewhere else given my parents had moved, but I just felt so drawn to come back here. This was the place that gave me inspiration to start music in the first place, and I figured it would be good to write my first album here. It seems that now I was terribly mistaken. The thought of having to worry about seeing Harry everywhere I go will eventually take its toll on me. All of my years of therapy will be washed down the drain.

After taking a few more moments to collect myself, I start my car, and I head off in the direction of the art gallery I had looked up earlier today to try to get my mind off this whole encounter.

●・○・●・○・●

It had been a few days since running into Harry at the record store, and mentally, I was doing better with it than I thought I was going to. I expected my mind to race once I laid down in bed that night, but that didn’t happen. Thankfully, I distracted myself with hanging up the new art I got while playing a couple new records, and I think that helped get my mind off of it.

Kailey had texted me earlier today and asked if I wanted to go out for a few drinks later, and I agreed. I had seen her a couple times since I got back, mostly because she came over and helped me with a lot of the painting I did in my house, but this was going to be the first time that we were actually going out.

It’s exciting to me, to be honest. Yes, I’ve been traveling and going out here and there for the past few years, but I haven’t really gone out with a friend in so long - not since I left.

I went for a rather simple look tonight - just a pair of ripped black skinny jeans, a cropped white tee and my leather jacket. Of course, my platform boots were on my feet.

Since it was a little up in the air how much we would end up drinking tonight, I decided to order myself an uber, and I made sure I had my cards, keys and phone before heading out the door. I only had to wait a couple minutes for my Uber to arrive, and as I got into the back seat, Kailey sent me a text to tell me she was on the way as well.

I’m hoping that by going out tonight that it gives me a better outlook on deciding to move back to LA. After the encounter with Harry, it did have me questioning everything, even though I didn’t spiral as bad as I thought that I would. I’ve managed to keep up a pretty good relationship with Kailey, despite being gone, so I’m more than hopeful that we’ll fall back into our old ways.

I know that I have my band, and Lys, but it’ll be nice to feel like I have close friends again.

I pull up to the agreed location just a few minutes after getting in the car since it’s not too far from my house, and I step inside. I’m looking around for Kailey, but I don’t see her yet, so I decide to make my way to the bar to go ahead and order a drink. 

As I’m waiting behind a few people, I see the door open again out of the corner of my eye, and I see Kailey.

“Kailey!” I call over to the noise of the music, and I watch her eyes wander around for a moment before they settle on me.

She smiles wide, and waves her hand high in the air before she starts to make her way over to me. Once she reaches me, we wrap our arms around each other in a big hug, and I let out a small sigh at how nice it feels to have contact with someone like this. It wasn’t too common for me these days.

“How are you?” I ask as we move up a bit towards the bar, both of us with our arms now crossed over our chests.

“I’m good, just got off of work, and I came straight here. How about you? Did you finally get everything settled at the house?”

I nod, feeling a sense of pride that I have gotten myself all situated. “I did, actually. I picked up a few more art pieces earlier this week to fill some empty space on the walls that I had, but I think everything is officially in place. You’ll have to come over for dinner and a movie night sometime.”

“Oh, I’d love that!” Kailey exclaims with a toothy grin. “It’ll be just like old times.”

Eventually it’s our turn, and I order myself just a Coors Light to start. Kailey orders herself a beer as well, and then we head towards a high-top table tucked into the corner - having it be a little more secluded in the busy little bar.

“I know you’ve been super busy with the house, but have you had a chance to get out a little bit? There’s a lot that’s the same, but a lot that’s different,” Kailey says as she takes a sip of her drink.

“The day I picked up the art pieces was actually the first day I was able to do that,” I wrap both of my hands around my cool glass - tapping my fingertips against it lightly. “Went to the art gallery, but I went to the old record store before that.”

Kailey pauses her attempt at another sip at my words, and she lowers her glass back down onto the table. “You did, did you?”

“Yeah,” I sigh, shaking my head. “Saw Harry.”

Kailey’s eyes widen at my words. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Yeah, and well…that wasn’t the first time I saw him. I forgot to tell you, but I also saw him at my show.”

She stares at me for a moment with a slack jaw before she shakes her head. “Okay, wow,” she clears her throat, actually taking a large sip of her beer afterwards. “And how were both of those run-ins?”

I purse my lips to the side as I try to decide how to answer her. “Pretty unfortunate, to say the least,” I laugh sadly. “He caught me after my gig, and he pretty much just said he wanted to confirm it was me, but that he still wants to act like I don’t exist. The other day when I saw him at the record store, he was all over some girl. Rylan was her name, I think?”

“Yeah, Rylan,” Kailey rolls her eyes. “She’s something.”

“You know her?” I ask, eyebrows narrowing as I take another sip of beer.

“She hangs around with Mikey’s group of friends, and I’ve run into her a couple of times at his parties. Her and Harry have been together for a little bit from what I’ve heard,” she shrugs. “She’s younger though - 22, I think? Fucking loves to party it seems.”

“I thought you hadn’t really seen Harry.”

“Over the past few months he’s been turning up more with her, but before that I only saw him those couple times I told you about. Did he talk to you the other day at the store?”

I shake my head. “Didn’t utter a fucking word. Rylan was fangirling over me, and he just stood there…glaring. I’m sure it had to eat him up that his girlfriend was losing her mind. She wants to hang out with me too.”

Kailey throws her head back with a laugh. “I’m sorry, Marlowe, but oh my god. The poor girl is actually clueless, isn’t she?”

“It seems so. He lied to her about being at my gig. Apparently she wanted to go, and he told her that he was sick, so she stayed home in case he needed her.”

“Wow,” Kailey lifts her glass and extends it towards me. “I think we can cheers to a big ol’ ‘fuck Harry’, am I right?”

I can’t help but chuckle as I lift my glass - clinking it against hers. “You’re right.”

She hums as flails her hand in the air, as if she’s brushing the subject matter of our current conversation away. “But enough about that asshole. How’s the album coming along?”

“To be honest with you? It isn’t,” I run a hand through my hair. “I haven’t really had any inspiration hit me lately, and I know I have a meeting coming up with my label soon. I’m a bit stressed. They’re going to expect an anticipated release date, and I’m not going to be able to give that to them.”

“Well your manager, Lys, right?” I nod as she continues. “I’m sure she’s going to rally for you. She’ll make sure you get all the time you need in order to create what you want, and to put something out that you’re proud of. Don’t let them pressure you into a deadline.”

“Yeah, it’s just…it’s not a good look that this is my first album, and I can’t even get my head on straight to properly get to work on it. I’ve just been so busy with the move, but now that I have my studio set up, I’m hoping it’ll be easier to get some material together.”

“You’ve got this,” Kailey nods. “Your song writing has always been stellar, and you can come up with melodies at the drop of a hat. It’s going to all work out.”

She reaches across the table to wrap her hand around my wrist - giving it a squeeze of reassurance as we share a smile between the two of us.

Our conversation continues on, and eventually we order ourselves another round of beers. At one point, my phone lights up on the table, and I look down to see Harry’s name. My eyebrows narrow, and I swallow harshly as I stare at it. I was in need of a cigarette anyway, so I figure that answering it won’t be too much of an issue.

I can’t tell you why I’ve kept his number saved all these years. It was something I always wanted to bring up in therapy, but I never did. I guess there was a part of me that still wanted to know I could contact him in some way, if I needed to. I had also convinced myself that he probably had a new number, and the contact in my phone was just a placeholder of what used to be.

“I’m going to step out and take this call and have a smoke. I’ll be right back,” I tell Kailey as I stand up, and she gives me a thumbs up while taking a large sip from her glass.

Heading outside, I answer the phone, and I hold it between my ear and my shoulder as I pull a cigarette from my pack - placing it between my lips as I struggle to get my lighter out as well. “Hello?”

I can hear music coming through the speaker, but I don’t hear anyone speaking as I light up my cigarette. Giving it a few minutes, I roll my eyes as I lean against the building, taking a long drag before pulling the stick from my mouth.

“Harry, if you’re talking I can’t hear you.”

It’s silent again for a few seconds, and as I’m going to place my cigarette back between my lips, he speaks. “You just had to come back, didn’t you?”

I pause, the filter almost to my mouth as my face contorts. “What?”

“You heard me, Marlowe,” his words are slurring, and I close my eyes when I realize he’s extremely drunk. “You just had to fucking come back here.”

I’ve never been around Harry drunk, therefore I’ve never known what he could sound like, but right now he sounds even less like my Harry than ever before.

“Well, it is my hometown,” I scoff before taking another drag.

“Did you come back here just to torture me for leaving your stupid little band?”

I blow out smoke towards the sky before I answer him. “It wasn’t just my band, Harry, it was ours. But no, I wanted to spend some time at home. I haven’t really been able to within the past three years.”

“Why?” Harry chuckles darkly into the phone. “You don’t have anyone here anyway. Your parents have moved - no siblings.”

I bite down on my bottom lip as Harry brings up my relationship with my parents. He knows they love me, but he also knows we’re not very close. They’ve been to a few of my shows here and there, and they’ve made it clear they’re proud of me. That’s all I can really ask for.

“Thanks for that,” I try to keep my cool - playing up my sarcasm to cope with his comment. “I had completely forgotten my family dynamic.”

“I’m just saying, there’s not a single person who truly wants you here.”

“That’s funny,” I mumble around the filter of my cigarette. “Because I’m actually out for drinks with Kailey as we speak.”

It’s silent again, but I continue to hear the muffled music in the background, so I know he’s still there.

“Okay, I’m hanging up now, Harry. This call is absolutely pointless.”

“Just one more thing before you go,” Harry’s voice holds a tone that I’ve never heard before.

I wait.

“I left the band because I couldn’t stand being around your stuck up attitude. You’re so fucking full of yourself, Marlowe. So fucking selfish,” he spits, and my lips part at the harsh words he casts my way. “You going solo like you did just proves you were going to use us, and then leave us out to dry once you made it. I couldn’t stand being in the same room with you anymore because of how you were acting - how you’re probably still acting.”

I can’t even find the words to respond to what he’s just said to me. Never in my life has he spoken to me in such a way, or said such hurtful things - things that he has to know aren’t true. As much as I want to prove that to him, I know in the end it’s pointless. 

This Harry doesn’t want explanations or reasoning. This Harry is already set in his ways and his thinking. Arguing with him would be like arguing with a brick wall.

“You’re talking out of your ass right now, and you’re clearly drunk,” I toss my cigarette to the ground, snuffing it out with the toe of my boot. “I’m actually going to hang up now. Don’t call me again. Goodbye, Harry.”

My hands shake as I hang up my phone - slipping it into the back pocket of my jeans. I suck in a deep breath as I drop my head back to rest against the brick behind me. 

As much as that call should upset me even more, I think it’s not because I’ve actually come to the realization now, more than ever, that Harry is not the same person. He will never be again. I’ve already mourned who he used to be. I’ve already worked through that trauma to a point where I feel comfortable dealing with the little bit that still remains.

That man on the phone was not someone who used to be my best friend. He’s a complete stranger.

I let out a deep breath before making my way back into the bar, and Kailey sends me a smile. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, that was Harry.”

“Come again?” 

“I don’t want to talk about it. Can we just get some shots?” I laugh, and she nods as she pushes herself up from the table.

“Oh, I’m about to get you two back to back,” she says, guiding me to sit back down. “I’ll be just a minute.”

My eyes follow Kailey as she pushes through people to make her way back to the bar, and I fiddle with my fingers on top of the surface in front of me. 

I have to come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably be seeing a lot of Harry now, especially if what Kailey said is true about Rylan hanging out with people who Mikey knows. Maybe it’ll end up being a good thing - it’ll be the true closure I need to just lay it all to rest. It was already seeming to be going in that direction anyway.

It’s only a few minutes later that Kailey is back with a small serving tray with two more beers and a total of four shots.

“We’re getting drunk,” she tells me as she sets everything down. “And we’re not going to talk about that dickhead anymore.”

We each grab a shot glass and raise it in the air. “Fuck Harry Styles,” I say, repeating her cheers from earlier, but adding his last name to it - to really feel it.

Kailey smirks as she nods. 

“Fuck Harry Styles.”

●・○・●・○・●

A/N: If you'd like to see what I picture Kailey and Rylan to look like as well, I've included their pictures below! Thank you so much for reading, and I'll see you all very soon for the next one.

Kailey

Rylan

●・○・●・○・●

Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fic #harry edward styles #harry styles smut #harry styles ff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smutty fanfic #harry styles au #harryedwardstyles #harrystylesfanfic #harry fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harrystyles #harry #harry styles angst #harry smut #harry styles x fmc #harry x fmc #dark!harrystyles #dark!harry #Spotify

[gender-trash]

I would be very interested in hearing the museum design rant

by popular demand: Guy That Took One (1) Museum Studies Class Focused On Science Museums Rants About Art Museums. thank u for coming please have a seat

so. background. the concept of the "science museum" grew out of 1) the wunderkammer (cabinet of curiosities), also known as "hey check out all this weird cool shit i have", and 2) academic collections of natural history specimens (usually taxidermied) -- pre-photography these were super important for biological research (see also). early science museums usually grew out of university collections or bequests of some guy's Weird Shit Collection or both, and were focused on utility to researchers rather than educational value to the layperson (picture a room just, full of taxidermy birds with little labels on them and not a lot of curation outside that). eventually i guess they figured they could make more on admission by aiming for a mass audience? or maybe it was the cultural influence of all the world's fairs and shit (many of which also caused science museums to exist), which were aimed at a mass audience. or maybe it was because the research function became much more divorced from the museum function over time. i dunno. ANYWAY, science and technology museums nowadays have basically zero research function; the exhibits are designed more or less solely for educating the layperson (and very frequently the layperson is assumed to be a child, which does honestly irritate me, as an adult who likes to go to science museums). the collections are still there in case someone does need some DNA from one of the preserved bird skins, but items from the collections that are exhibited typically exist in service of the exhibit's conceptual message, rather than the other way around.

meanwhile at art museums they kind of haven't moved on from the "here is my pile of weird shit" paradigm, except it's "here is my pile of Fine Art". as far as i can tell, the thing that curators (and donors!) care about above all is The Collection. what artists are represented in The Collection? rich fucks derive personal prestige from donating their shit to The Collection. in big art museums usually something like 3-5% of the collection is ever on exhibit -- and sometimes they rotate stuff from the vault in and out, but let's be real, only a fraction of an art museum's square footage is temporary exhibits. they're not going to take the scream off display when it's like the only reason anyone who's not a giant nerd ever visits the norwegian national museum of art. most of the stuff in the vault just sits in the vault forever. like -- art museum curators, my dudes, do you think the general public gives a SINGLE FUCK what's in The Collection that isn't on display? no!! but i guarantee you it will never occur, ever, to an art museum curator that they could print-to-scale high-res images of artworks that are NOT in The Collection in order to contextualize the art in an exhibit, because items that are not in The Collection functionally do not exist to them. (and of course there's the deaccessioning discourse -- tumblr collectively has some level of awareness that repatriation is A Whole Kettle of Worms but even just garden-variety selling off parts of The Collection is a huge hairy fucking deal. check out deaccessioning and its discontents; it's a banger read if you're into This Kind Of Thing.)

with the contents of The Collection foregrounded like this, what you wind up with is art museum exhibits where the exhibit's message is kind of downstream of what shit you've got in the collection. often the message is just "here is some art from [century] [location]", or, if someone felt like doing a little exhibit design one fine morning, "here is some art from [century] [location] which is interesting for [reason]". the displays are SOOOOO bad by science museum standards -- if you're lucky you get a little explanatory placard in tiny font relating the art to an art movement or to its historical context or to the artist's career. if you're unlucky you get artist name, date, and medium. fucker most of the people who visit your museum know Jack Shit about art history why are you doing them dirty like this

(if you don't get it you're just not Cultured enough. fuck you, we're the art museum!)

i think i've talked about this before on this blog but the best-exhibited art exhibit i've ever been to was actually at the boston museum of science, in this traveling leonardo da vinci exhibit where they'd done a bunch of historical reconstructions of inventions out of his notebooks, and that was the main Thing, but also they had a whole little exhibit devoted to the mona lisa. obviously they didn't even have the real fucking mona lisa, but they went into a lot of detail on like -- here's some X-ray and UV photos of it, and here's how art experts interpret them. here's a (photo of a) contemporary study of the finished painting, which we've cleaned the yellowed varnish off of, so you can see what the colors looked like before the varnish yellowed. here's why we can't clean the varnish off the actual painting (da vinci used multiple varnish layers and thinned paints to translucency with varnish to create the illusion of depth, which means we now can't remove the yellowed varnish without stripping paint).

even if you don't go into that level of depth about every painting (and how could you? there absolutely wouldn't be space), you could at least talk a little about, like, pigment availability -- pigment availability is an INCREDIBLY useful lens for looking at historical paintings and, unbelievably, never once have i seen an art museum exhibit discuss it (and i've been to a lot of art museums). you know how medieval european religious paintings often have funky skin tones? THEY HADN'T INVENTED CADMIUM PIGMENTS YET. for red pigments you had like... red ochre (a muted earth-based pigment, like all ochres and umbers), vermilion (ESPENSIVE), alizarin crimson (aka madder -- this is one of my favorite reds, but it's cool-toned and NOT good for mixing most skintones), carmine/cochineal (ALSO ESPENSIVE, and purple-ish so you wouldn't want to use it for skintones anyway), red lead/minium (cheaper than vermilion), indian red/various other iron oxide reds, and apparently fucking realgar? sure. whatever. what the hell was i talking about.

oh yeah -- anyway, i'd kill for an art exhibit that's just, like, one or two oil paintings from each century for six centuries, with sample palettes of the pigments they used. but no! if an art museum curator has to put in any level of effort beyond writing up a little placard and maybe a room-level text block, they'll literally keel over and die. dude, every piece of art was made in a material context for a social purpose! it's completely deranged to divorce it from its material context and only mention the social purpose insofar as it matters to art history the field. for god's sake half the time the placard doesn't even tell you if the thing was a commission or not. there's a lot to be said about edo period woodblock prints and mass culture driven by the growing merchant class! the met has a fuckton of edo period prints; they could get a hell of an exhibit out of that!

or, tying back to an earlier thread -- the detroit institute of arts has got a solid like eight picasso paintings. when i went, they were kind of just... hanging out in a room. fuck it, let's make this an exhibit! picasso's an artist who pretty famously had Periods, right? why don't you group the paintings by period, and if you've only got one or two (or even zero!) from a particular period, pad it out with some decent life-size prints so i can compare them and get a better sense for the overarching similarities? and then arrange them all in a timeline, with little summaries of what each Period was ~about~? that'd teach me a hell of a lot more about picasso -- but you'd have to admit you don't have Every Cool Painting Ever in The Collection, which is illegalé.

also thinking about the mit museum temporary exhibit i saw briefly (sorry, i was only there for like 10 minutes because i arrived early for a meeting and didn't get a chance to go through it super thoroughly) of a bunch of ship technical drawings from the Hart nautical collection. if you handed this shit to an art museum curator they'd just stick it on the wall and tell you to stand around and look at it until you Understood. so anyway the mit museum had this enormous room-sized diorama of various hull shapes and how they sat in the water and their benefits and drawbacks, placed below the relevant technical drawings.

tbh i think the main problem is that art museum people and science museum people are completely different sets of people, trained in completely different curatorial traditions. it would not occur to an art museum curator to do anything like this because they're probably from the ~art world~ -- maybe they have experience working at an art gallery, or working as an art buyer for a rich collector, neither of which is in any way pedagogical. nobody thinks an exhibit of historical clothing should work like a clothing store but it's fine when it's art, i guess?

also the experience of going to an art museum is pretty user-hostile, i have to say. there's never enough benches, and if you want a backrest, fuck you. fuck you if going up stairs is painful; use our shitty elevator in the corner that we begrudgingly have for wheelchair accessibility, if you can find it. fuck you if you can't see very well, and need to be closer to the art. fuck you if you need to hydrate or eat food regularly; go to our stupid little overpriced cafeteria, and fuck you if we don't actually sell any food you can eat. (obviously you don't want someone accidentally spilling a smoothie on the art, but there's no reason you couldn't provide little Safe For Eating Rooms where people could just duck in and monch a protein bar, except that then you couldn't sell them a $30 salad at the cafe.) fuck you if you're overwhelmed by noise in echoing rooms with hard surfaces and a lot of people in them. fuck you if you are TOO SHORT and so our overhead illumination generates BRIGHT REFLECTIONS ON THE SHINY VARNISH. we're the art museum! we don't give a shit!!!

#so anyway i love going to art museums-- #the trashcan speaks #long post

[joonsmagicshop]

Bad Idea....right?

Summary: Sneaking into your enemy Jung Hoseok's party to make Kim Taehyung jealous is a bad idea....right?

Paring: Reader/Hoseok (Taehyung, Jimin Jungkook and Namjoon are characters)

Word Count: 8K

Rating: M 18+

Tags: A/U, smut, making someone jealous, douchebag jimin, douchebag taehyung, Dom hobi, best friend namjoon, enemies to lovers, getting ghosted, confessing feelings, fingering, eating pussy, hickies, spanking, Dom Hobi but also soft sweet hobi, penetrative sex, teasing.

Authors Note: I've been reading a lot enemies to lovers and decided to try it out for myself. Because I write so much Namjoon I wanted to broaden my writing so Hobi it is. This was fun to write.

“Hey, Joon!” You say trying to balance the phone on your shoulder as you lean in to apply another layer of mascara, dropping your phone on your vanity in the process.

You let out a frustrated sigh and put him on speaker as you continue to work on your makeup.

“What happened are you okay?” He asks voice laced with concern.

“Yeah I’m okay Joon just dropped my phone. What are you up to tonight?” You ask as you flutter your eyelashes and begin to work on pulling your hair back into a half updo.

“Not much just got a new book I’ve been dying to read so just ordered some dinner and going to read.'“ He says as you softly smile.

“What about you?” He asks.

“Oh you know….not much.” You say as sweetly as you can.

“Y/N I’ve known you for too long to know when you are telling the truth or lying. That was your lying voice.” He replies as you roll your eyes and finally get your hair in a style you like.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” You tease as you hear him chuckle on the other line.

He knows you too well.

“Y/N please just tell me what you are up to.” He sighs as you stand from your vanity to run your hands down your outfit.

“Well, I called because I did want to know how your night was going. Honest. I also wanted to know if you wanted to go out with me tonight… somewhere.” You say softly.

“Go out where?” Namjoon’s voice is laced with suspicion and it makes you want to laugh. He was always the rock in your friendship, the stable, logical one. You were more wild and free, doing what you wanted and dragging him along for the ride.

“To a party.” You say apprehensively as you hear Namjoon let out an audible groan on the other end.

“It’s not his party is it?” Namjoon asks and you fiddle with your black sheer top.

“Who’s party are you referring to? You tease.

“Jung Hoseok.” Namjoon spits out and you grimace.

The silence on your end tells Namjoon everything he needs to know.

“Y/N, please. Please tell me you are not thinking of sneaking into Jung Hoseok’s house party tonight. You both are going to tear each other apart and I’m not breaking you out of jail when you break his face.” Namjoon sighs sounding weary.

“Relax Namjoon he won’t even know I’m there. Besides I’m not going for him.” You assure him.

“You both hate each other, loathe each other because you tell me how much you hate him all day every day and you think you can sneak into his party unnoticed? Come on Y/N.” Namjoon says as you start to shove things you need into a beaded bag.

“So if not to break his face then what reason do you need to sneak into a house party and drag me along? And if you say Kim Taehyung I’m hanging up on you.” Namjoon says and you bite your lip.

He knows you too damn well.

“Y/N Please tell me you are not going to this party because of Kim Taehyung. Promise me.” He pleads.

“I can’t promise you that Joonie.” You say in a small voice as Namjoon lets out a frustrated groan.

“He went on a date with you and Ghosted you. Poof. Gone. And now you want to sneak into Hoseok’s to do what exactly?” Namjoon grills you as you begin to pace your room.

“I want to go to this party and find a hot stranger to dance with and make him see what he is missing out on.” You respond trying to fight the hurt in your chest.

“Y/N it’s not worth it. He is not worth it. Kim Taehyung is trash, ghosting you like that. Please don’t go it’s such a bad idea.” He pleads but it’s too late, your phone alerts you that your ride is here.

“Namjoon my ride is here. I’m going to be fine. It’s going to be fine.” You assure him, or maybe yourself as you slip on your heels and head towards the front door.

“Y/N you can come over here and we can hang out. I’ll make you tea and we can talk and watch those romance movies you love. You don’t need to sneak into this party you don’t need to make Taehyung jealous he is so not worth it and if he can’t see your worth he’s trash in my eyes, and Hoseok I mean you hate him. Hate him down to his bones and you want to take a chance running into him. Please this is a bad idea. Taehyung is not worth it.” Namjoon pleads over the phone.

“See ya Joon. I’ll keep you up to date.” You say as you hang up and slip your phone in your beaded bag.

Time to show Kim Taehyung what he is missing out on.

Jung Hoseok lives across town so you lean your head against the car window as it navigates the busy Friday night streets.

You can feel your phone vibrating in your beaded bag but you don’t bother to take it out, you know it’s Namjoon trying to talk you out of going to this party.

He just doesn’t understand.

You met Taehyung at a coffee shop. You had just gotten your laptop out and were setting up to work when he approached your table.

He was the most beautiful man you had ever seen, with dark hair that fell over his eyes and a shy boxy smile.

He apologized for intruding but the seat across from you was the only one left and he really wanted to get some work done.

The table was big enough for two so you introduced yourself and let him share your table. He seemed shy and quiet which you didn’t mind and after only an hour of work, you found your eyes drawn over the top of your computer to his handsome face which was screwed up in concentration.

He caught you and you both blushed, he gave up work to chat with you and give you his number.

He seemed so nice in the beginning, and the first date you had was lovely but after, that radio silence.

He seemed to disappear off the face of the planet and even though it was just one date you felt crushed that it didn’t work out or go further.

No matter how many times Namjoon had told you Taehyung was trash, even asking around to find out that he ghosted people quite often and it was a regular thing, your heart couldn’t let go of the shy cute boy in the cafe.

So when you heard about this party and knew that Taehyung was a close friend of your enemy Jung Hoseok you jumped at the chance to make him see what he was missing out on, to make him jealous and overall make him wish he didn’t ghost you.

As for Jung Hoseok, well he was just a know-it-all stuck-up douchebag. You shared some of the same friends so he always seemed to just…be around. You got along like Fire and Gasolene and both of you were not afraid to have full-blown arguments in front of anyone and everyone. Namjoon had to drag you away a couple of times when the fight got too heated.

Hoesok thought you were too stuck up and prissy, you thought he was a know-it-all with too big of an ego. There was no catalyst, no driving force you both just hated each other from day one.

Namjoon was right though, sneaking into a party, especially Jung Hoseoks's party was a bad idea, you knew it was, but you couldn’t help yourself, knowing that it would be a chance for you to see Taehyung again.

The party was in full swing by the time your cab dropped you off at the curb. You handed him some money and straightened yourself out as he pulled away leaving you standing on the sidewalks in the dark, the only sounds coming from the giant house in front of you.

Another reason you hated Hoseok, he was rich, filthy rich, and liked to flaunt it by throwing grand parties and plastering it all over his social media.

Not that you followed him on social media, you just happened to look a couple of times.

You held your bag close to your body as you walked up to the front door, your heart was hammering in your chest, and you grabbed for the knob to turn it and swing the door open.

You were met with strobe lights and blasting music, the smell of sweat, sex, and weed permeated the air as you stepped over the threshold and clutched your bag.

You hunched over trying to make yourself small as you navigated the packed house trying your best to find Taehyung before Hoseok found you.

The living room was tightly packed with people as you tried to nudge your way in, the kitchen was even worse and as you stood on your tiptoes to search for a mop of dark hair you got nudged and pushed into the wall.

You rubbed your sore arm but the person who nudged you didn’t seem to care, just as soon as they hit you they were swallowed by the crowd.

You had to find Taehyung but navigating this crowd was almost impossible.

You finally pushed and nudged yourself into the kitchen and poured yourself a drink trying to calm your nerves, with all the people you were starting to feel claustrophobic.

You feel a hand on your arm and you flinch when you look up to see Park Jimin staring down at you, his eyes glassy and gaze unfocused.

“Hey Y/N didn’t know you’d be here tonight.” He slurs, breath fanning your face reeking of booze.

You cringe

“Yeah well, it was kind of a last-minute decision.” You reply trying to inch away from him.

Park Jimin was one of Taehyung’s closest friends and was known to be a total fuck boy. Even the way he was looking at you right now made you feel like he was undressing you with his eyes.

You wanted to get away from him as soon as possible and keep searching the party. You’d never tell Jimin that you were looking for Taehyung, he would probably just laugh in your face.

“Mhmm, you should come dance with me.” He slurs as his hands grab for your hips. You try to push him off of you but he has you backed against a wall.

“No, I’m good I’m not much of a dancer” You reply almost yelling at him over the beat of the new song that is playing.

“So yes you will?” He shouts as he leans in, breath fanning over your cheeks as you put your hands on his chest to try to push him away.

“No Jimin. No, thank you!” You shout as the music seems to get louder, or maybe that is the blood pounding in your ears.

You fist your hands into his shirt and try to push him away but he is strong.

“Come dance with me Y/N you look so fucking hot tonight.” He growls in your ear, hands roaming your hips.

You gasp for air trying to make eye contact with someone, anyone in the kitchen to come save you. Your hands grab Jimin’s to keep them from inching further up your naked legs as you try to push him off of you.

Panic sets in when he doesn’t stop and starts to grind his bulge against you. You are trying your best to get him off of you, begging him to leave you alone.

You want to shout out for Taehyung to help you, for Namjoon who is on the other side of town to help you, for someone, anyone, to push Jimin off of you.

Right as you close your eyes and steady yourself to give him a huge shove a hand comes up to his shoulder and peels him off of you.

Your eyes snap open and you stare at Jimin who is unsteady on his feet, grabbing the table he nearly got flung into for support.

You look up to your savor, appreciation dies on your lips when you see it is Jung Hoseok, staring you down as if you are dirt under his newest pair of shoes.

Well fuck.

“Park Jimin go drink some water you drunk fuck and if I catch you doing this to anyone else at this party I will chop your balls off. Understand?” Hoseok barks out as he continues to stare you down.

“Relax Hobi I was just having some fun,” Jimin grumbles as he rubs at his side where it hit the table.

You are still plastered against the wall panic still rising in your throat as Hoseok breaks your gaze to stare at Jimin in disgust.

“As I said I will chop your balls clean off your body if you do that again. If someone says no they mean no Jimin. Now get out of here.” Hoseok demands as Jimin shoots him a dirty look and leaves the kitchen getting swallowed up by the crowd

You swallow hard when Hoseok’s narrowed eyes land on you. You have never felt intimidated by him but something about him staring you down left all the insults you wanted to shout at him dead on your tongue.

“Well, well, well. Sneaking into a party you were most definitely not invited to, trying to hide in the crowd so I don’t spot you then needing me to come save you. Ironic huh? The one person you didn’t want to see saved your ass.'“ He coos at you as you finally peel yourself from the wall and stare him down.

"I think the words you are looking for are Thank You.” He says with a sly smirk which has your blood boiling.

“I was fine. I didn’t need your help.” You spit at him staring him down, heart racing in your chest.

“Believe me love, Park Jimin wouldn’t have stopped unless I peeled his sorry ass off of you. A simple thank you won’t kill you.” His eyes roam your body “Or maybe it will, don’t think I’ve ever heard you say those words.”

You grit your teeth wishing you had a drink in your hand so you could throw it at his beautiful face.

“Whatever Hoseok. I’m not here to fight you anyway. Or here for stupid Park Jimin to grope me.” You say gaze leaving his so you can scan the crowd some more, eyes still not seeing that mess of brown hair that belongs to Taehyung.

“Well seeing as you snuck into this party I can only assume you didn’t want to see me at all. You’re here for Kim Taehyung aren’t you?” He says with a quirk of his eyebrow as your mouth drops.

He throws back his head and laughs and you want to hit him, your cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

“So predictable.” He purrs as your hands bawl into fists at your side. You really hope Namjoon was kidding about not breaking you out of jail because you feel very close to punching Hoseok right in the mouth.

“Shut up Hoseok you don’t know anything.” You say shooting him a death glare as you cross your arms over your chest and try to look intimidating, which doesn’t work because you are a whole head shorter than him even in heels.

“Oh, I know plenty of things.” He comments, his eyes sparkling as they lock with yours.

“I know how he went on a date with you. Ghosted you. And how he came to this party with some blonde chick hanging all over him. I saw them maybe twenty minutes ago. Looked like they were headed outside.” He says leaning in, his eyes wander your body again and you shiver.

“And I can only assume Kim Namjoon is around here somewhere, asshole couldn’t even pull Jimin off you so I had to?”

You swallow hard.

“No, he stayed home tonight. Just me here.” You respond

“Good choice. I always thought he was smart.” Hoseok says as someone bumps into him, sending him nearly crashing into you if he didn’t hold onto the wall above your head.

Your eyes flit up to meet his, his breath is warm on your face and every fiber of your being is confused between wanting to kiss him and wanting to run far far away from him.

“How do I know you're not lying to me.” You whisper as you feel his body press into yours further.

“I could be. Or maybe I’m not. How many laps around my house are you going to do before you realize I’m right? Wow, two thank yous in one night. I think you might collapse under the pressure.” He teases as he pushes away from the wall giving you space to breathe.

You aren’t sure what to say. Or how to feel. The only thing you know is you should get out of here. Now. You have embarrassed yourself enough for one night and you knew in your heart that Hoseok would never let you live it down.

Your eyes flit to his heart-shaped mouth and you swallow.

For a brief instant, you wonder what they would feel like pressed against yours and that’s when you know it’s time to leave. You are completely sober wanting Jung Hoseok to kiss you. Times up, games over, time to leave.

You push yourself off the wall and try to move past him but his hand is quick on your hip pulling you back as you growl at him in frustration.

“And where do you think you're going?” He coos, long fingers keeping you in place.

“I’m leaving. You don’t want me here anyway. Goodbye.” You grit out clenching your teeth.

“What and I don’t get my thank yous? Seems kind of harsh. I was a gentleman tonight after all. Your knight in shining armor if you will.” He teases as his one hand runs down the front of his black shirt, puffing out his chest to you.

“You're no better than Park Jimin holding me here against the wall.” You bite back trying once again to push past him only to be blocked.

“Park Jimin doesn’t take no for an answer. I do. Just say the word and I’m gone.” He growls as his lips come down to ghost your neck and you shiver.

What the fuck is going on.

You hate Jung Hoseok with every fiber of your being.

You have hated him since you first lay eyes on him

So why did you feel so turned on, and flustered at him pining you against a wall?

You could say no.

You could walk away.

You could get a cab and go to Namjoon’s and cry into his arms about how Taehyung clearly moved on.

But you didn’t do any of those things

You didn’t want to do any of those things.

Something about fighting with Hoseok set off a fire in you that you weren’t sure how to extinguish but you knew you needed more.

“Do you ever shut up?” You fight back weakly as his lips curl into a devilish smile.

“Ah, so instead of saying thank you we are playing the insult game.” He says voice low as he dips his head down to ghost his lips over the shell of your ear.

Even in the warm kitchen you shiver and you feel him grin.

“Hoseok.” You almost whine out closing your eyes and hating the way you sound, so broken, so desperate for a man you can’t stand.

“Shall we do a lap and see if we can find your precious Taehyung? I know all the best hiding spots. This is my house after all.” He purrs in your ear.

Taehyung

Right

That’s why you were here.

“You said he was gone.” You whisper as people walk by unaware of the turmoil going on in your mind.

You aren’t sure if you want to kiss him or hit him but you need to keep him talking until you figure it out.

“Ah, so you did believe me?” He teases, letting his hand that is resting on your hip play with the hem of your shirt.

You suck in a breath.

“I don’t know what to believe, You are a dick after all. Isn’t this all just a game to you?” You ask trying to keep your voice steady when his long fingers slip under your shirt to play with your heated skin.

“Maybe? Maybe not. That’s for you to decide. This is my house. My party. And I graciously pulled Jimin off of you and made sure you were okay. That doesn’t seem like dick behavior to me.” He teases as his hand traces your skin higher. You arch into his touch and he chuckles low and dark in your ear.

His hands continue to move higher and any insult you want to throw back at him leaves your brain. You can’t think, can’t focus when his fingers touch you like that

His long fingers graze the bottom of your bralette making you gasp and shiver as he chuckles darkly in your ear.

Just as you are about to say something, do something a hand taps his shoulder and Hoseok whips around to see Jungkook standing there blushing wildly and looking like he wants to be anywhere else.

“Sorry, Hyung you said to come get you if something happened. Someone broke a vase upstairs there’s glass all over the floor. I’ll clean it I just want to know where your stuff is?” He asks timidly as his big brown eyes land on you and he shyly smiles.

“It’s fine Kook I’ll clean it myself.” He says pushing away from you as you feel air start to enter your lungs again.

Hoseok turns to you and you can finally take him in, how wild he looks, how his eyes are dark clouded with lust, and how his tongue darts out to lick at his lips.

You feel your legs tremble from his look alone.

“Upstairs, turn right last door on the right. Or leave. Your choice.” He says to you shooting you a wink and looping an arm around Jungkook as he heads off to find cleaning supplies.

Your heart is hammering in your chest, your pussy is throbbing and soaking wet and you can’t seem to catch your breath

What the fuck

What the actual fuck.

You push your way out of the kitchen and head to the backyard where a group of people seem to be milling about and smoking.

You stay far away from them and tuck yourself into a small secluded area as you take several deep breaths and try to calm down.

You don’t like Hoseok

There is no way you do, no way you can.

But there was something about him tonight that was so attractive it made you feel things that you most definitely thought you’d never. Ever. Feel for him

You take your time staring up at the sky and catching your breath when you hear a high-pitched giggle echo over the backyard.

You snap your head up to see Kim Taehyung holding the hand of some blonde girl and pushing her up against the side of the house. You watch as his lips find her neck and he peppers kisses down them, her little squeals and moans echoing throughout the yard though neither of them seem to care they have an audience.

You feel your throat tighten and your chest ache.

Namjoon was right Taehyung wasn’t thinking about you and he totally wasn’t worth it.

And the worst part of it all had nothing to do with Taehyung.

It was the fact that Jung Hoseok was right. Taehyung did come here with someone else.

You push yourself from your hiding place and head across the yard to go find Hoseok. You are not sure why you need to see him, you could leave right now and forget this whole thing but something inside you is telling you to find him. Maybe it’s all the emotion swirling inside you ready to explode, maybe you just want to fight someone to get all this anger, frustration, and sorrow out.

Either way, you make your way across the yard, the blood pounding in your ears deafens the moans the girl is letting out when Taehyung grinds himself into her.

He doesn’t even notice you crossing the yard, not that it matters anymore.

You make your way back into the house pushing past the crowd of people as you make your way up the stairs. You turn right and stare at the last door on the right, heart hammering wildly in your chest as you approach it.

You knock and without warning you let yourself in.

The room is massive with a huge king-sized bed in the middle. You’d take a second to appreciate the decor if your eyes weren’t so focused on the man sprawled out on the bed, face illuminated by the soft overhead lighting, long fingers scrolling his phone.

His eyes snap up to yours and he sends you a devilish grin that has your toes curling as he throws his phone to the side and you step through the doorway to slam the door closed muffling the party below.

He sits up on the bed and parts his legs, spreading them wide as you walk up to him.

You stand proud between his spread legs as he looks up at you, taking his time to push his hair back from his face.

“I’m only going to say this once so you better listen close. Thank you for saving me from Jimin. Thank you for not lying to me about Taehyung. I saw him. He’s here.” You grit out keeping your hands bawled into fists at your side.

“And you're still standing and haven’t been turned to dust by those thank yous. I’m surprised.” He teases as you frown at him.

“I think the words you are looking for are you’re welcome.” You tease back as he grins at you.

There is a strange silence that hangs in the air. You said all you needed to and had every intention of turning around and storming out, but something was holding you in place maybe it was Hoseok’s intense gaze.

“So you saw him then?” He asks softly, all the bite in his voice gone.

You nod your head feeling too exhausted to fight

“Did you…talk to him?” Hoseok asks and you are surprised at his question. All the two of you ever did was argue and fight, this was the first normal conversation you had with him in ages.

“No, I did not.” You say avoiding looking at him, instead finally taking in the decor of the room as a welcome distraction.

“You came all this way, snuck into a party you were not invited to, and tried to avoid me only to find him and not talk to him. Y/N you aren’t a coward I know that for sure.” He teases.

“He was preoccupied with someone else.” You say trying your best to avoid his gaze.

His hands come out to hold your wrists and he runs his thumbs over your palm in soothing circles.

“When he told me about the date I warned him to stay away from you. He’s my friend but I also know what he has a habit of doing. He didn’t believe me. Thought I was saying that because of how…we are. I’m sorry Y/N you must have been excited about him to go through all this trouble.” He says as you stare down at him in shock.

“Why are you acting like you care all of a sudden?” You ask flinching out of his grasp. This is all too much, this isn’t how it is with Hoseok and it’s throwing you off.

“Maybe because I do care? Ever thought of that.” He bites out standing from the bed as you cower under his intense gaze.

“N-No you don’t… don’t lie to me Hoseok.” You spit out feeling off-kilter at the new information.

Hoseok advances towards you until you are flushed up against the door. His hands come to rest above your head and he looks down at you with such anger in his features it makes you shiver.

“Like I lied about Kim Taehyung being here? Like I lied about who he came with? You keep painting me as a villain so I became your villain.” He growls in your ear.

You gasp when he slots his knee in between your legs and grinds it against your aching core, your skirt rides up and your flimsy underwear does nothing to hide your arousal as you grip his shirt for support.

“You know what. I’m going to lay it all out and well… you already hate me so it can’t get worse right?” He mutters as he pushes his knee harder into your core making you let out a high-pitched whine.

“You think I like arguing with you? Fighting with you? Do you think I like that I can’t have a normal conversation with you? I do it because it gets your attention. It’s a shit way to do it but you always have guys surrounding you, talking to you, complimenting you. And I can’t compete with that. So I get you angry, make you feel things so you keep your eyes on me. I’ve liked you for so long and you never wanted to give me a chance but if I get you mad… I get you. It’s shit I know I’m not proud of it. But it works. You came to this party for Taehyung but you're soaking wet right now for me and me only.” He growls as you arch your head back when one of his hands leaves the wall to trace down your side.

“You-hold on… you like me?” You breathe out as your head feels dizzy and you stare at his handsome face.

“God I’ve liked you for ages.” He whispers breath hot on your neck as he leans down and presses a soft sweet kiss to your exposed neck making you shiver and grip his shirt for dear life.

"Hobi.” You whine out as his eyes snap to yours.

You have never called him that before. It was always Hoseok.

“Use your words. Tell me?” He asks voice strained as he continues to apply pressure to your clit.

“Please I can’t- I-.” You say breathlessly as you push him away trying to regain breath.

Hobi backs away and shoots you a dejected look as he stares at the floor, hair falling in front of his beautiful face.

Before you can speak, or explain he points to the door.

“You should go.” He mutters as he turns his back to you and flops back down on the bed.

You watch as he flops down and buries his face in the pillows. He looks so dejected and sad and your head is still spinning trying to process it all. He likes you. He confessed to liking you. No matter how much you thought you didn’t like him you can’t leave him like this.

You silently walk over and sit down on the bed, your hand comes out to rub soothing circles on his back.

He looks over to see you are still there and he slowly sits up.

“You can go. Don’t feel guilty and want to stay. You pushed me away. You don’t like me back. I get it.” He rambles fiddling with the bedspread not looking at you.

“Hobi. I just… I didn’t mean to give you that impression it’s just hard to think when you were pressing your knee into me like that. My body and brain couldn’t function.” You say with a small smile as his eyes finally snap up to yours.

“Let’s go back a bit. You like me?” You ask as he whines and covers his face with his hands.

“You don’t like me back. I get it. Don’t make me admit it again.” He says voice small and vulnerable as you grab his wrists to pull his hands away from his face.

“I never said I didn’t.”

His eyes widen.

“I came here for Taehyung but in the kitchen… I wanted to kiss you. I made you angry, I kept you talking because I wanted to buy myself more time so I could figure my feelings out. I’ve never thought about kissing you before.” You admit as he buries his face behind his hands and groans.

“Well, thanks that’s promising.” He responds as you pull him in for a hug trying to comfort him.

“Hobi you have liked me for a while and had tons of time to process your feelings. I haven’t. Two hours ago I thought I hated you.” You admit as he pulls out of your hug to stare at you.

“And now? How do you feel now?” He asks.

“Like I still really want to know what your lips taste like.” You say shyly

Hobi jumps up from the bed and for a second you wonder if you scared him off but he goes over to lock his bedroom door and races back to the bed.

“Can I kiss you Y/N?” He whispers breath hot against your face as he kneels on the floor before you.

You look down at him, his handsome face, eyes blown wide and you nod.

You place your hands on his shoulders for support and lean in as Hobi wastes no time pressing his lips into yours. His lips are soft and sweet and he takes his time with you, his tenderness surprising you as he keeps his hands respectfully on the bed.

You push your lips into his deepening the kiss and tangle your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck which causes a low groan to fall from his mouth.

You gasp and pull away as he stares up at you through heavy lids.

“Fuck Hobi.” You mutter, eyes flicking down to his lips which are slightly red from kissing, and when you look further down you can see a sizeable bulge tenting the front of his black pants.

“You are so hot when you moan.” You admit as he wastes no time and stands up to push you down on the bed. He crawls on top of you as you giggle and he is once again kissing you. His hands hold him up so he doesn’t crush you and his body flush against yours.

You can feel everything.

His lips which are soft but firm against yours, his hair which is tickling your face, his chest which presses against yours with such a delicious pressure it makes your nipples harden, and his cock, hard and straining against his pants as he pushes it into your thigh.

He grinds slowly against you as he continues to kiss your lips.

You moan and whine as he rolls to his side and drags you with him, tangling his free hand in your hair as he does so.

He continues to rut against your hip and your hands run down the front of his shirt, slipping under the expensive material to feel his bare heated skin on your palms.

“Fuck Y/N Fuck.” He moans out when your hands run over his nipples.

You grin.

You both pull away from the kiss and stare at each other breathing heavily and taking it all in.

“Wow.” You whisper.

“How do you…feel now?” He asks timidly and the blush that covers his cheeks is so cute it makes you grin.

“Like I want to kiss you again and again. And maybe do more.” You say and instantly he is on top of you again, kissing your lips and grinding his hard cock into your core.

You scratch at his back as you arch up to meet his hungry lips, your body rolling against his to relieve the ache between your legs that seems to be growing by the minute.

“You're so hot. Fuck you are so hot. Taehyung fucked up real bad ghosting you. Fuck.” Hobi whines out as he places kisses on your cheeks and moves down your neck to suck a harsh mark that has a broken moan falling from your parted lips.

His hands come down to the hem of your shirt and he pulls it over your head and throws it somewhere in the room. His dark eyes widen when he takes in your dark bralette that is covered with delicate lace and his hands run up and down your stomach as you shamelessly grind into him.

“Please Ho-bi please.” You whine out as he rolls you both over so you are now straddling him. His hands effortlessly unclasp your bra and throw it as you can hear the bass bumping downstairs as the party continues, oblivious to what the host is doing right now.

His large fingers cup your breasts and when he flicks his thumbs over your nipples you grind down harder on his cock. He clenches his teeth as he squeezes your breasts massaging them in his large hands and making you arch your back, pushing yourself harder into his length.

“Fuck you know how long I have dreamed of this. Having you under me, or on top of me. Fuck.”

Hobi’s hands grab your thighs to part them further as you sit up a bit and he drags his knuckles between your wet folds, feeling how you have soaked through your underwear.

You let out a broken moan and he grins wickedly.

“Though you have been bad today. Acting like a fucking brat in the kitchen. I’m not going to let you get away with that so easily. Kneel on the bed ass up face down. Time for your punishment Princess.” He says forcefully pushing you off of him as you stare at him in shock.

“Come on now we don’t have all night.” He says tapping your thigh which has you scrambling to get in position for him.

“Good girl. Knew you could behave.” He growls as his hands lift your skirt and you bury your face in the pillows shivering in anticipation.

“I’m thinking Five Spanks because you have been a fucking brat for the five years I’ve known you.”

You nod as you bury your face further into the pillows and blankets and when the first spank hits you feel the zing all the way down to your curled toes.

Your ass is on fire and Hobi is chuckling darkly behind you as he massages the red flesh of your ass.

“One.”

The next three come one after the other and you are whining and crying on the bed. You try to squeeze your legs together to help with the ache.

“One more baby girl. One more.” He says as he lines up and spanks you hard. Your head falls into the mattress and his name falls like a prayer from your lips.

You can feel your arousal leaking down your pussy and without warning Hobi scoots on the bed and opens your legs harshly as he licks you up.

You cry out his name as he pulls your asscheeks apart to get better access to your dripping pussy and he licks your slit, dancing his tongue along making your stomach clench and your thighs tense up.

“Ho-Hobi fuck fuck!” You cry out as he licks and sucks at your clit. You flutter your eyes closed and let the prettiest whines and moans fall from your mouth. He is too good at that and is bringing you to the edge closer than you would like to be.

“Ho-Hobi gotta stop I’m gonna-please fuck.” You babble out as he lifts his head and softly kisses the red handprints on your ass.

“You got me too close. Fuck Hobi your mouth. Wow.” You say turning over to lay on your back as you stare at him slowly standing up and taking off his shirt.

Your eyes are met with miles of toned beautiful skin and when he undoes his pants with nimble fingers you are gasping. He pulls them down and you can see his hard cock straining against his boxers.

You scoot to the end of the bed and press soft kisses to his bare skin. Your lips start at his sternum and work down his body as his hands tangle in your hair. You take your time savoring his skin as you kiss down until your lips are right at the waistband of his boxers.

You bring your lips to his hipbone sucking the skin there as your hand moves to cup his impressive bulge.

Hobi lets out a whine as you begin to dance your fingers along his shaft and finally pull his boxers down as his length smacks your cheek.

“Fuck that’s so hot holy shit,” Hobi grits out as his fingers grab the base of his cock harshly and you look up at him through your lashes.

“Gonna cum already? Wow Hoseok.” You taunt him as his eyes grow dark and he grabs your arm harshly and forces you to kneel on the bed.

“Such a fucking brat Y/N I thought I’d be gentle with you but I think you prefer being manhandled huh? Is that why you fought me so much, you secretly got off on it?” He asks as he leaves you there to rifle through his room to find a condom.

“I think you get off on it Hoseok. Spanking me and eating my pussy nearly made you cum. I hardly touched you and you're ready to blow your load.” You shoot back as he tears open the condom packet and rolls it down his impressive length.

“You know how many times I’d be done arguing with you and having a raging hard-on after. I’d jerk myself off thinking about putting you in your place. Shutting you up with my cock in your mouth or in your pussy. I think you like the fire, like the danger. I think you like being put in your place as much as I like putting you in your place.” Hoseok says as he kisses you harshly.

This kiss was completely different than the soft slow ones earlier, this was all teeth and tongue and roughness as he forced his tongue into your mouth.

His right-hand wanders down your body and he harshly rubs your clit which has you moaning into his mouth as he works you hard and fast, not giving you a second to recover as he kisses you with such force it nearly throws you back on the bed.

“What do you want Y/N… tell me.” He growls out as his hand continues to speed up on your clit causing broken moans to fall from your mouth as you bury your head into his shoulder.

You can’t think

Can’t breathe

Can’t concentrate

He plunges two fingers into your pussy and begins to scissor them harshly as you cry out against the bare skin of his shoulder.

He is saying things to you but you can hardly hear them over the music downstairs and the blood pumping in your ears.

You are close

So close to cumming all over his fingers.

Your hand reaches out to grab his bicep for support as you feel your whole body spasm, you are so close and the way his skilled fingers are moving you know you are going to cum soon.

Hoseok must feel it because right as you are on the edge he pulls back and you stare up at him in shock and anger as he takes his time licking his fingers clean.

“Hoseok what the fuck I was close you jerk!” You cry out as he smirks at you.

“I said use your words. What. Do. You. Want.” He says popping his fingers out of his mouth and staring you down with a heated gaze.

You go to reach for his cock, to give him the same treatment he gave you but he’s too quick and he swats your hand away.

“Again use your words. You never had any trouble telling me off before. Now tell me what you want.” He goads looking way too smug.

“You know what I want.” You fight back.

“Do I?” He challenges.

“Yes, you do.” You challenge back.

“God I love it when you are feisty. Makes me so fucking hard.” He says circling his hand around his cock and lazily pumping it.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him jerking his cock in front of you as you feel your arousal coat your thighs.

“Still not hearing the words I want. I could just stand here and jerk myself off and watch you suffer.” he teases as you grit your teeth.

“Wasn’t thanking you twice tonight enough.” You snap back as he throws his head back and laughs.

“Nah I want to hear it. Want to hear you beg me for my cock.” He says stepping forward to line his cockhead up with your folds.

He runs it up and down your slit letting your arousal coat him and you throw your head back and whine.

“Hoseok. Please.” You beg him grinding your hips down.

“God I love when you call me Hoseok. So fucking sexy.” He says still running his cockhead through your folds.

“Hoseok, please. Please fuck me.” You finally break as he smirks and grabs your body to push you down on the bed.

Face down ass up.

You bury your face once again in the messed up sheets as he kneels on the bed and spreads you open, taking his time teasing your pussy with his cockhead before slipping inside.

You cry out his name as he takes his time inching inside of you.

Once he bottoms out he rubs soft circles on your hips as you squeeze your eyes shut and try to take slow deep breaths to relax against his girth.

“Fuck you are so tight around me.” He says as he leans forward to press soft kisses along your spine.

You slowly roll your hips to adjust to his size and once the sting subsides you start to fuck yourself back against his cock which causes him to squeeze your hips.

“How are you holding up? Is it okay if I move?” He asks softly tracing patterns on your back.

“Hoseok fuck me. Please.” You cry out.

You can hear him snicker above you and right as his hips are about to move someone knocks on the door.

You freeze, eyes blown wide and heart hammering as Hoseok stills his movements, cock still inside of you.

“Hobi Hyung!” Comes a voice you recognize a little bit too well and you turn your head back to see Hoseok’s shocked face.

Taehyung is at the door knocking, while Hoseok is balls deep inside of you.

“Want to show him what he’s missing.” Hoseok growls and before you can answer he starts to fuck into you roughly.

You can’t help but cry out his name as you grip the sheets and feel his hard cock slide in and out of your pussy.

He delivers a light spank to your ass which has you shamelessly moaning loud enough for Taehyung to hear.

“Fuck Y/N you feel so good!” Hoseok moans out and you try to bite back your grin as you know for a fact Taehyung must have heard.

You can’t focus on Taehyung when Hoseok is ramming into you like his life depends on it so you continue to moan and cry out on the bed not caring if anyone could hear you or not.

Your stomach starts to tense and you can feel yourself getting close again.

Hoseok must realize because he angles his hips and starts to pound into your g-spot repeatedly causing your eyes to flutter closed and your hands to close around the bedsheets aggressively.

“Hoseok. Please. Don’t stop. Please.” You beg as he grabs your hips and forces you to fuck yourself back on his cock.

“Come on beautiful show that asshole what he missed out on. God this pussy is heaven I can’t wait to fuck you over and over and over. The only pussy I want to be buried in. Cum for me beautiful. Cum around my cock” Hoseok demands and you lose it.

You arch your back and cry out his name as you throw your head back. Your orgasm washes over you like waves and your pussy clenches tightly around his cock.

Hoseok hisses behind you as he continues to fuck into you but soon enough you feel him spill into the condom with a cry of your name.

You finally come down from your high as he pulls out of you and you flop down on your stomach and breathe deeply, feeling fuzzy but happy as you breathe in the scent of him all over the sheets.

You feel Hoseok move from the bed and return with a warm towel.

He takes his time spreading your cheeks to clean the mess of your pussy and you sigh happily when he throws the towel in the room and climbs into bed with you, laying on his side so he can look at your face.

“Wow, Hobi. Wow.” You whisper as you push stray hairs away from his face.

“I think this is the first time we agree on something.” He teases as you lightly smack his arm

“I don’t want to fight with you anymore.” You admit. “And I’m sorry for all the times I did.”

He softly smiles at you and kisses both your cheeks.

“Me too.” He agrees lacing his fingers with yours.

“Can I take you on a date sometime this week? Maybe get to know you without all the arguing?” He says softly kissing your knuckles which makes you giggle.

“Of course Hobi.”

You lay there taking each other in for a while before you both remember there is a party going on downstairs and you should probably rejoin it.

You take your time redressing, stealing glances at each other as you adjust your clothes.

A knock at the door makes you both look up.

“Hobi hyung! It’s important!” You hear Taehyung call and you smirk as Hobi laces his fingers through yours and throws the door open.

You both are clearly still disheveled and Tae’s mouth drops when he takes in the sight of you both, you purposely throw your hair back to show off the mark he sucked into your skin.

“Um.” He says eyes flicking between the both of you, jaw dropped.

“My-my date threw up and I want to know how to clean it?” He asks eyes narrowing in on the mark on your neck and shoulder.

You giggle.

“Hey Tae long time no see!” You say to him as he blushes under your gaze.

“The laundry room in the basement has everything you need. You can clean it I’m not your babysitter you know.” Hobi says as he pushes past Taehyung dragging you with him as you hide your giddy giggles behind your hands.

“Also please don’t ghost this one. It’s super embarrassing for you to keep doing that. You keep missing out on all of these amazing women because you're scared to commit.” Hobi throws over his shoulder as you bury your giggles in his arm and head back down to the party

#Jung Hoseok #Hobi #bts #hoseok smut #hobi smut #hobi/reader #hoseok/reader #hobi/ reader smut #hoseok/reader smut #bts fanfic #bts smut

[letterstoear]

A letter only you can answer

Notes: Gojo x reader, to be perfectly honest I'm not that well verse on JJK but I've been wanting to write Gojo for so long and came up with this. After reading more about him I think he would respond with something rather bittersweet like this. The idea was a serious love letter from Gojo.

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Sweetheart,

Listen I know you don’t want to hear this response, but I’m not going to say I love you right away. If you want, I can wrap my hands around your waist and love you all night long. No feelings attached. Knowing you, you’d probably hate me if I did. Then again maybe I should if it’ll change the way you feel about me. Knowing you though, you’re not going to take it like the thousands of people before you who say they love me.

Earlier when you explained what your love was, I felt it. With each word falling from your mouth the stronger I felt it. Your love towards me is quite strong, isn’t it? I wonder how long it’s going to last. To you it doesn’t matter if I feel the same. No, you just wanted me to know there was someone who loves me. Not Satoru Gojo the strongest, no its the Satoru Gojo who’s underneath all of that. The one who’s not just strength personified.

Trying to love me unconditionally now aren’t you.

When did it all start for you? Don’t tell me it was the night you barged into my house. I couldn’t forget the words which fell out of your mouth even if I wanted to. That’s how much your words struck me. You went and said “wow, for a man who’s so wanted, so strong, you sure are lonely” what a response. Especially when I showed you such hospitality that night. I’m sure of it, everything changed after you spent the night with me.

Or have you been in love with me for much longer?

I know I have, but I never said anything because how could I? To tell you I love you knowing the muddy road ahead of us. I wasn’t going to blindly head into that kind of world with you. No, I wouldn't let myself see even a fraction of that reality. Loving you means I’m one step closer to losing you.

Do you get it ________ if you really want to be with me, understand the full force of it all. Promise me you want this. Being together with me isn’t going to be full of sunshine, no you’re going to have to keep me sane. I’ll lose myself even more than I already have if you’re gone. Standing by my side needs to be done with confidence, even if it’s fake.

Now that I’ve laid it all out for you, what are your plans? Will you still choose me even if it means changing this damn world so that unforgivable reality never comes true.

_________ When you’re ready to answer, don't hesitate, I can take your truth.

Love,

Satoru Gojo

#jjk #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujitsu kaisen #gn reader #fluff #letter #hmmmm does this sound like him #probably not #but oh well #I think he would be negative about love though #can't see him being the sweetheart of the relationship

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 3

Ok so I decided to cut down the next chapter so I could get something out before I take a small break, but the next one is over hlaf-way done so it'll be out soon. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 5942

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 2 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 >

PART 1: Chapter 3

I'd rather be unemployed.

Fimble-Famble (Definition): A really lame excuse for not wanting to do something. (Noun)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Monday, 9th December, 1929.

“And he told me that we needed the money so I had to take it!” you cried as you slumped in the armchair.

Agnes gave you a look over the top of her glasses, the book she was reading now long forgotten since you stormed in that evening practically red in the face as you ranted to her about the whole radio fiasco. Knowing your tirade wasn’t over, she placed a bookmark between the pages and snapped the book shut, reaching over the arm to place it on the side table with a sigh.

“Well he is your boss.” She explained calmly, and you slumped down further, edging your sock-clad feet towards the fire. “If he believes you can do it, then I don’t see any reason as to why you can’t. Besides,” she gestured to the bag of books by your feet. “Those books he gave you are about radios for beginners – having that knowledge could open up further job opportunities for you.”

All you did was stare at the bag with a frown, before you kicked it over with a whiny grunt. Agnes sighed again.

“You’re going to get rude customers wherever you go, so when you’re the one representing the business, you be the better person and take the challenge calmly.” She pressed, peering over at you with a stern expression.

Silence.

She squinted slightly. “You.. did take it calmly, didn’t you?”

When you continued to narrow your eyes at the ground, she sighed, rubbing her forehead. “Christ, no wonder the twins grew up to be as crazy as they are.” She muttered. “Look, if Mr LeBlanc has asked you to take on this repair, and allowed you to take the pay for the extra labour hours, then I see no reason for you to refuse this man’s request – at least, not without cause.”

You sat up straight, prodding the cushioned arm with your finger. “Oh, I have cause. It is because I hate him!” You exclaimed.

Your aunt tilted her head, regarding you with a tired look. “My lovely, you’ve only had one conversation with him over the phone.”

You pouted, crossing your arms. “Two, if you count the letters.” You growled. “Besides, I think Ralph only told me to take the job ‘cause he knew the guy.” Agnes raised a brow. “I said it was a Mr A. Boudreaux, and he almost choked to death from coughing his lungs out. I told him he was rude to me but he just kept saying that I had to.”

“Did he say please?” she asked, a small knowing smile on her face.

“…Yes.”

“There you go.” Agnes concluded, reaching over to give your knee a few rough but assuring pats. “I don’t know who this Mr Boudreaux is, but if Ralph wants it done, then you can at least try. Besides, I’m off work until next Monday, so I’ll be home for a whole week to give you a hand if you need one – I know how those equations and diagrams make your head go all fuzzy.”

You sighed dejectedly, then gave your aunt a small smile. “Thank you. If anything, I’m doing it for this guy’s mum, not him.”

“Awww, at least he’s sweet to his mother.” She smiled, before turning towards the door and raising her voice slightly. “I do hope I get that treatment when I’m older!”

All she got was a loud farting noise echoing through from the other room.

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Friday, 13th December, 1929.

The patio double doors hung wide open as you laid your head on the kitchen table, staring at the technicolour marbling of the setting sun. Tools, wires and random pieces of springs laid scattered on the wooden surface around you, along with several books opened to pages of diagrams you had spent the last week trying to understand but to no avail. You had sent a letter on the Tuesday, informing Mr Boudreaux that your boss had decided that the radio would be taken on.

You refused to call him again, lest you face the humiliation of that faceless smug bastard as he found out that your boss had sent you back with your tail between your legs to tell him that you were in the wrong – something you adamantly avoided stating in your letter, instead half-hinting that Ralph had miraculously recovered overnight (he hadn’t), and took the project on personally (he didn’t do that either).

It also seemed that the good luck spell you and your aunt had performed that Monday evening worked - after you had collapsed on your imaginary chaise-longue and wailed to her about the dilemmas of the day, she had dragged you to her room, going on about how you hadn’t been keeping up with your practice for the last seven months. She made you bring your grimoire from your room, and you both spent around an hour resetting and cleansing energies, also setting up a small bowl of different herbs and trinkets that symbolised good luck, making you put it on your bedside table along with a new incense burner she had bought you. Honestly, if your aunt wasn’t around, you probably would’ve spontaneously combusted by Wednesday.

Agnes had also sat with you every evening, reading through the radio books, and slowly helping you work things out when the words started to blend together and you found yourself trying to read a paragraph as much as you could, but to no avail.

It was times like this when you wish you were back home, when everything was normal. When people weren’t giving lingering looks to your aunt as she traipsed about the village like every other innocent woman. When your uncle was telling you about his family and his way of living in Japan to his sons, and to you whenever you had the time to stop by. When you were treated as a well-respected, intelligent woman, who was freshly graduated from university at the top of her class. Not whatever those men had said to you when they came to your door after the local doctor had practically snitched on you. If only that dinner hadn’t happened. If only your aunt’s maid hadn’t gone snooping where she shouldn’t. Within a year everyone had been torn from each other.

But there wasn’t much time for mourning. You had less than two weeks to get this radio looking like it did when it was fresh off the shelf, otherwise you risk disappointing your boss for the first time ever, which would have you unconsciously doubting yourself for the rest of eternity.

Your head still on the table, you pinched a spring coil between your fingers, holding it up against the orange-purple sky as you glared at its silhouette. Rustling came from beside you as your aunt flipped the pages of the books, eyes flitting between them and the notes she was taking in her notebook.

You felt her glance at you a couple times, until there was a sound as she shifted, then silence. Feeling a finger tap your shoulder lightly, you slowly sat up to face her. She was facing you, an uneasy look in her eye as she took her time coming up with what to say.

“So..” she began hesitantly. “I understand your busy right now working full time at the shop, but since we got the news yesterday that Ralph was getting better, I was going to ask you,” she waved her hand about in thought. “If you’re going back to working only two days, would you consider looking for another job?”

You sat up straight, confusion clouding your face. “You want me to quit on Mr LeBlanc?”

“NO, no no!” she cried, waving her hands to dismiss the obvious miscommunication as she laughed nervously. “I meant look for a second job? I felt awful even thinking about asking you, but with the free time you’ll have, I just think it would make surviving this crash easier if we both had a steady wage coming in? I mean, as steady a wage that two women during this time an get.” She looked at her hands as she twisted them, hesitance and guilt written all over her face. “I want the boys to have a completed education, and it’ll crush me if I force myself to take that away from them.” She turned to you, trying her best to hide the tears threatening to build up. “I know you’re only here temporarily, and I’m not going to make you do anything you’re not comfortable doing, but –” she took a shaky breath. “as humiliating as it is, I need your help.”

Moments passed as you stared at the woman before you. The woman who used to be so full of life and love when she was surrounded by family – who loved the village she grew up in and the city she moved to – who loved the husband she fought tooth and nail to marry – now sat in a house in an unknown city she never asked to be in, a country she never asked to move to. Torn from her sister to an unknown place on the other side of the planet. All because her stupid maid couldn’t keep her stupid mouth shut.

Reaching your arm out, you grasped her hand with your own, waiting until she looked up at you, dark eyebags you never thought you’d see underlining her eyes like a curse. You knew she wasn’t sleeping enough.

“I’ll start looking tomorrow.” You stated quietly but firmly, squeezing her hand affirmingly.

Her eyes glistened as they widened, regarding you with a desperate hope, until she let out a loud sniffle and dropped her head onto your shoulder, trying her best to conceal her own shoulders as they jerked up and down slightly with her light sobs. Resting your head on top of hers, you both sat there in silence as you listened to the clock tick along with your aunt’s quiet sniffs as she attempted to calm herself.

“There’s an assistant’s job going down near the French Quarter.” She muttered. “I know the guy who runs the place and he said he would be happy to interview you?”

You perked up at her suggestion. “Ok, what kind of company is it?” Your aunt remained silent for a moment. “Agnes?”

“It’s a, uhhh… radio station.”

Jerking your head off hers, she quickly sat up as you gave her a deadpan expression.

“C’mon,” she pushed with a watery giggle. “I said you we’re learning how radios work for a repair, and he seemed excited that you would have some knowledge before you applied.”

“Unwanted knowledge.” You pressed. “He’s gonna have to offer a decent salary if he wants me to be within a ten mile radius of a radio ever again.”

Your aunt gave a throaty laugh in response. “Oh, don’t worry, I made sure of that before asking you. I can give him a call if you’re willing to interview?”

Making sure to let out a very long and tired sigh, you looked at you aunt’s pleading face, before slowly nodding. Letting out a cry of relief, she clapped her hands, then grabbed your face as she squished your cheeks, moving your head from side to side as she let out a string of ‘thank yous!’.

Eventually after her tirade of affection, she got up, flipping her twin plaits over her shoulders as she approached the sink, rinsing both of your mugs to make the fifth cup of tea that evening. You went to reach across the table for a book when your ears perked up at the sound of a small ‘psst’ from your right side.

Glancing over, your eyes landed on the archway that led into the hallway, and you were able to see all the way down to the front door from where you were sat, though half of your view was blocked by the underside of the stairs. Peering down the long hall, you leant back in your seat until a dark mop of hair peeked around the staircase banister.

Quickly flicking your eyes to Agnes, you made sure she was still facing the sink when you turned back to make eye contact with Ollie, who was precariously perched on the bottom step as he manoeuvred his upper body to curve around the wooden post to face you. Another mop of lighter hair joined him, as Allie stuck his head between the ceiling and the railing from where he was further up the stairs. Reaching one arm round and the other through the banister posts, Ollie began waving and pointing his fingers about, signing the most ridiculous gestures as he tried to convey a message.

‘What??’ you mouthed silently, frowning as you shook your head slightly in confusion.

At this, your cousin tried again, jabbing his fingers about a bit harder as he repeated the message.

You stared, eyes darting to the side then back again, and you simply shrugged. At this point Allie had thrown a dirty sock at his brother, and you barely heard him hiss at Ollie to make it simpler.

Rolling his eyes, Ollie shifted until he was fully facing you. With frustrated, wide eyes, he pointed at you. You nodded. Then pointed upstairs. You nodded again. Then jabbed his thumbs at his chest as he mouthed ‘my room’, then held his hand up with all of his fingers splayed out, ‘five minutes’ he said silently. Nodding once more, you watched as your cousin froze at the clatter of mugs as your aunt moved about, before quickly darting back round the banister, crawling on all fours as he soundlessly disappeared back up the staircase like some shadow creature along with his brother.

Sighing with a roll of your eyes, you returned back to the mess in front of you, thanking your aunt as she placed a fresh steaming mug of tea down. Picking it up, you bathed in the hot vapours rising from it before sticking your tongue out slightly to test the temperature. Quiet slurping sounded from beside you as your aunt returned to her seat, sipping from her own mug. Glancing at you, she placed it down to pick up a book.

“So,” she said as she casually turned a page. “What did the boys want?”

You took a large sip.

“No idea.”

--

Five minutes later, you took it as a well-earned break, trudging upstairs to see what the twins wanted to yap at you about.

“What’re you two up to now?” You sighed as you pushed open the door that had the sign saying ‘Ollie’s Room’ nailed to it. You looked up, only to stop in your tracks as your eyes landed on the two hunched over a very large corkboard, though, the cork was hardly visible with all the random pieces of paper, newspaper clippings and string pinned to it.

“Whaaaat is that?” You said slowly, brows furrowing as you stared at the board with wide eyes.

Ollie practically crawled his way over to the door, hands on the floor as he lifted a leg like a dog taking a piss, to kick it closed before scurrying back to his twin’s side, who was busy looping glittery wool string around another pin.

“A corkboard.” Allie simply said, not even bothering to look your way.

“I can see that.” You deadpanned, making your way over. “I’m asking what is on it. And specifically HOW you got pictures of dead bodies.” You pointed out, stepping closer to see the black and white photographs of body parts and corpses that you knew definitely shouldn’t be in the hands of your underage cousins. (Though they were 17 now, and clearly the closer they got to adulthood, the more excuses they had to do crap they weren’t allowed to.)

Allie snipped the end of the string, his voice lowering as he regarded you with a dark look. “If we told you, we’d have to kill you.”

“Not if I kill you first.” You hissed, raising a leg to kick him. “Explain.”

“Okayyyyy fine!” he whined, shuffling out of the way to avoid your attack with a pout. “The son of the Sheriff is in our class, and we pay him to enlarge photos from the crime scenes that are suspected to be the Bayou Butcher.”

Your mouth flung open. “You WHAT?!?!” You yelled.

Ollie swiftly raised his hand to cover your mouth. “Shush, if mum hears you, we’re all dead!”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Reaching your hand up, you slapped his away. “We’re all dead regardless!!” You hissed. “Has the thought crossed either of your microscopic brains that what you’ve done is, like – I don’t know – super illegal??”

“It’s fine.” Allie shrugged. “If we guess that someone is onto us, we burn the evidence.”

Your looked between the two of them with wide eyes. “What if mum finds it when you’re both at school? What then??”

Allie sighed. “She won’t find it. Promise.” He stretched his arm up to the top of the board, flipping it over to show another side with random drawings and knick-knacks pinned to it. “We just flip it over and stick it in the wardrobe.”

“What, and pray she doesn’t get the urge to do her usual chores and find it as she’s hanging up your washing??” You contradicted.

“Yea pretty much.” Ollie replied.

You glanced between them worriedly, shaking your head. “You two are treading on thin ice here.”

“Yea yea but we didn’t bring you here to moan about everything.” Interrupted Ollie. “What we were trying to say before you rudely changed the subject was that this was our theory board.”

“Your illegal theory board.” You poked, crossing your arms.

Allie simply frowned up at you from where he was knelt on the floor, and you sighed.

“Fine. I’m guessing it’s about the Bayou Butcher?” You asked, before scrunching your face. “Why am I even asking? Of course it is.”

“Yep.” Ollie replied, his demeanour now more excitable. “Every grisly murder that matches his M.O. – well – our idea of his M.O. Along with every newspaper article about him, and maps of places the bodies have been found.” He explained, pointing each thing out. “We’re currently trying to figure out a potential pattern, but to no avail at this point.” He turned to you with a determined look in his eye – something you should be seeing on an actual detective, NOT your dingbat of a cousin. “But we will. At some point.”

You nodded slowly, absorbing the information. “Ok, so, why am I here?”

They both looked at each other, before facing back to you.

“To help us.”

“Absolutely not.”

Allie pouted. “Aww c’mon! We thought you liked this sort of stuff?” he whined, gesturing at you.

“Yea, from an outsider’s perspective! Not when there’s a potential for the police to come after me! Hell, this Butcher guy could find out you’re onto him and come after you himself!”

They rolled their eyes. “Ok, mum. No need to get your knickers in a twist.” Jived Allie. “We can guarantee you, no-one’s gonna find out.”

You raised an eyebrow. “How, then?”

“By not being stupid?” Ollie said as if it was the most obvious thing.

You sighed, thinking to yourself for a moment. “…Fine.” You held a finger up when their faces brightened. “But if anything gets dangerous, I’m burning it all myself.”

They both nodded excitedly, beckoning you over as they began to explain everything.

You knew at some point they would both be the death of you.

--

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Monday, 16th December, 1929.

The sun was still yet to melt the snow when you walked into town with your aunt that morning, arms linked as to not slip on the compacted ice as you both tried to step onto the trams that were miraculously still running. Your arms remained linked as both made your way to a wide, busy street just off the outskirts of the French Quarter, about a twenty minute walk from where the antique shop was.

Mr LeBlanc has graciously given you the day off, as a thank you for running the shop. His cough had receded, and was determined to return to work. Though his wife insisted on joining him in the shop for a couple days to keep an eye on his health, despite his grumbling.

“I can assure you Mr Durham is lovely.” Agnes said with unwavering confidence as she patted your arm with a knitted glove. “The interview should be over in fifteen minutes or so – you’ll be in-and-out before you even realise it, so there’s no need to worry.”

You gave her a shaky smile. “Hopefully. Though I haven’t been in any interviews to know if it’ll go well.”

“It will.” She stated firmly. “Now, do you remember what we went over when answering interview questions?” You nodded, and she slowed you both to a stop. “Brilliant. We’re here.” She gestured up to a relatively tall building, the brickwork looming over you as the wall above the doors displayed the words ‘W.A.D RADIO’ in bright, white paint.

Peering up at the five-storey building, you felt nerves creep up your spine as you began to sweat slightly.

“Oi, look at me.” Muttered Agnes, reaching out to gently take your shoulders as she turned you to her. “No matter what happens in there, it’s not the end of the world, I can promise you that.” She assured. Glancing her eyes across your face, she reached up to straighten the simple blue cloche hat she had let you borrow. “There should be a receptionist at the front desk, just go in and tell her your name and that you’re here for an interview with Mr Durham, ok? I’ll be waiting out here for you.”

The air in your throat stuttered as you took a deep breath, your nervousness a stark contrast to the anger-fuelled confidence you had when answering that phoner. Nodding silently, you returned your Aunt’s smile before stepping away and pushing the door open, hoping the ‘Good Luck!’ she had whispered to you would give some assist.

--

You could sense the receptionist staring at you as you sat staring blankly at the tiles on the floor ahead. Picking the non-existent dirt from under your nails, you felt the sickening nerves in your stomach ease slightly when you had sat on the worn, leather-clad bench, the conversation with the woman at the desk having gone as smoothly as you could make it, luckily without your mind going blank or stuttering on any words.

“Where did’ya say you were from again?” You heard, and you raised your head to see the receptionist leaning on her elbows on the desk, chewing on a pencil as she looked you up and down. “You’re English, but’cha don’t sound quite like those gents on the radio?” she questioned, her slightly nasally voice cutting through the air as she bore you down with her gaze.

You blinked. “…I’m from the North-East.”

She furrowed her brows, the wood of the pencil clacking on her teeth. “North-East a’what?”

“Of England? You know there’s over forty different accents used in the UK, right?.” You explained.

She looked you up and down once again. “Huh.” Was all she said, before she shrugged her shoulders, turning back to the paperwork she was pointedly ignoring, and you returned to fiddling with your hands, now choosing to pick at any loose lint on the hat laid on your lap.

About five minutes later, the sound of shoes clicking against tile tapped against your ears, and you looked up to see a man donned in business attire round the corner. He was rather tall and large, but in a soft muscular kind of way. His murky brown waves fell loosely over his forehead, peppered with streaks of grey along with his thick beard, and he still retained the tan from the summer, but his pale shade of skin was starting to show through again, softening the piercing blue of his eyes.

Speaking of eyes, it didn’t take him a second to scan the room before they landed on you, the cerulean if his iris’ turning an almost baby blue under the lights as they brightened at the sight of you.

“Ah! There you are!” He exclaimed, arms spreading wide to welcome you. “I was wondering when your aunt would drop you off!” His white teeth glistened as he gave a handsome, warm smile. Approaching where you sat, you quickly stood to take his large, outstretched hand, the warmth from him enveloping your snow-frozen skin. “I’m Mr Durham, co-owner of Watson & Durham Radio.”

You could see why your aunt let him take her out for dinner.

--

“– and you’ll be here Wednesday to Friday, from what your aunt said on the phone.” Mr Durham rambled on. You had been interviewed in his office on the third floor, but he had insisted on taking you on a tour around the expansive building. At first, he showed you your potential desk, positioned just outside his office, facing the rows of other desks that spanned the large room ahead.

Now you were taking the stairs to the fifth floor – ‘where the magic happened’ – according to the spritely man.

“These are the radio booths – each host gets their own.” Mr Durham explained, gesturing down the wide corridor.

Strangely, his pace seemed to quicken as he led you past the windows, but you tried your best to peer into each one. Some were dark, as no-one was in. Others were presenting, the ‘ON AIR’ sign above their door glowing bright, the rest were either chatting amongst each other, or alone in their booths, scribbling down in notebooks or on sheets of paper.

“– David, Jeff, Al, Brian, and Ol’ Timmy are all here – ‘cept the rest who have the day off.” Mr Durham listed off, pointing out each man as he rushed you by. “Though-” he lowered his voice a little. “- if you take the job, it’s best we keep you on the third floor.” You furrowed your brows at his odd comment, to which he spotted, quickly giving an explanation. “The boys can be a bit of a distraction you see. Being on the radio means you have to be charismatic, and I want you to settle in comfortably before I introduce you. A few can be quite… nosey. And overwhelming – some more than others.” He muttered, glancing into one of the booths near the end, and you looked over to see the back of a man’s head, his hair styled neatly from what you could see, and you watched as he gently tapped his foot to whatever was playing through his headset whilst he jotted away in the notebook on his desk.

As Mr Durham’s large shadow cast across him, he began to turn his head, and you managed to catch a glimpse of a pair of thin glasses before you walked out of sight of the window.

Thinking nothing of it, you followed the boss round the corner at the end of the hallway, and he continued to tour you around the building, pointing out the odd thing or person here and there.

--

The chill of the winter air hit your face once again as you pushed the front door open, and you scanned the street for your aunt. Glancing to the spot where she left you, a frown crossed your face as you found it empty, but barely a moment passed until your name was called out, and you looked up across the street to see your aunt stood outside the door of a café, waving for you to come over.

Cursing out America for having their jaywalking laws, you quickly searched for a crossing, speed-walking as fast as you could over the road despite the slippery snow as you jogged up to your aunt.

“So? How did it go?” she breathed excitedly as she led you inside to a small table, where there was already a steaming cup of tea waiting for you.

Grasping the warm beverage in your hands, you relayed the events of the last half hour to the woman bouncing in her seat across from you.

“Ok, but, were you happy with what you saw?” Agnes asked once you had finished.

You nodded. “Yea, pretty much.” You answered. “That Durham guy was already talking about me settling in before he offered me the job.”

Her back straightened. “He did?? Did you accept?” She gasped.

Looking at her over the top of your cup, you felt a smile grow on your face. “Mhm, I start Wednesday.”

Your aunt threw her hands in the air. “Oh thank god!” Her eyes darted about in frantic thought. “Oh! We’ve got to go shopping for some proper work clothes for you! Mr Durham is quite flexible with workwear but we’ll still go.” She rambled, pulling a piece of paper and a pen out her purse to start jotting things down, mumbling under her breath. “There’s a shop down the main street, and you’ll be needing some smarter trousers –”

“Speaking of Mr Durham,” you interrupted with a small smirk, watching Agnes accidentally jerk her pen across the paper as her wide eyes looked up at you. “He seems oddly fond of you. He asked me how the twins were getting on at school before he asked for anything about me.”

She froze, and you raised a brow.

“It’s also not like you to let some guy take you out. For dinner.” You added.

She glanced away, then back at you, slowly placing her pen down as she chewed the inside of her cheek.

“It’s not like that –”

“Sure it’s not.”

She sighed your name in exasperation. “We’re both regulars at this café, and we met back in January and have been friends since. Happy?” She explained rather curtly.

You narrowed your eyes at her. “Do the twins know about him? You know how protective they are over you since their dad passed.” You questioned gently.

Agnes closed her eyes, raising her hand to rub at her forehead. “They know, but they haven’t met him yet. Even if it does end up being ‘like that’, it’s been almost a decade since we lost Hiro, and it gets hard trying to raise two very energetic boys and keep a steady roof over their heads.” She stared into her drink with a faraway look as she recalled her late husband. “This world wasn’t built for women to be alone, and as infuriating as that sounds, I’ve been backed into a corner so many times that I only see someone like him as my one ticket out.”

Silence stretched between the two of you, as you let the words your aunt spoke about your uncle sink in. She hardly ever spoke of Hiro, so mentioning him now meant how serious she was.

“Alright.” You said softly, and her head raised to look at you. “I know I have no place telling who you can and can’t talk to, but please make sure both the twins and you are happy and safe. The last thing I want is a repeat of these last two years.”

A dark shadow crossed her face. “Oh believe me, it won’t.” she assured in a low tone. “If I knew the police weren’t going to show, I would have strangled Beatrice before she stepped a foot out the house.”

Nodding, you sighed, finally relaxing back in your seat as a natural silence fell over the two of you. Bringing the tea to your lips, you bathed in the fumes, watching passersby as they fought against the onslaught of the oncoming blizzard, and pondered about the possibilities of your first day at the radio company that sat on the opposite side of the street. Eyes unfocused, you stared blankly at the double doors that led into the towering brick building, thinking about when spring would come round and you could start to wear your summer dresses, but you focused back in when the double doors opened, and you watched as a man stepped out.

You couldn’t see his face, as it was lowered against the wind, but you recognised the mop of neatly styled, dark, brown hair that you had spotted earlier, but that was quickly hidden by the fedora he placed on his head, and your eyes caught the light of his round glasses, as they glinted in the dying light of the cloud-smothered sun, before he turned his shiny heel and strode down the street, seemingly not at all worried about slipping on patches of icy, packed snow.

What caught your eye the most, though, was how insanely tall this man was, and you figured – even at your tall height – that the top of your head would barely reach his nose, even on your tiptoes.

(Though, there was always the option to jump up and collide your forehead with his – if the need arises, of course.)

Unfortunately for you, however, this lanky ladder of a man was crossing the street.

Right towards the café.

Right towards you.

And you were basically turned in your seat to stare the demons out of this guy.

The brim of his hat began to raise, and you practically spun on the spot, the tea in your mug sloshing about, and you came face to face with your aunt, who had clearly seen the one-sided staring match you had had with the stranger.

Feeling the eyes of the man boring into the side of your temple, as you assumed he had seen you move at the speed of light to avoid looking at him, you smiled sheepishly at Agnes, who was not-so-subtly darting her eyes between the two of you.

A few seconds ticked on by at the speed of a snail, and it wasn’t until you aunt muttered a ‘He’s gone’, that you felt yourself deflate in relief, slumping in your chair as you gingerly put the mug in your hands back down on the table. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the back of the man’s trench coat as he carried on down the street out of sight, and you faced the woman in front of you.

“Sooo,” she began as she tried to hide the growing smile on her face. “Who’s that?”

“No clue.” You stated bluntly, eager to move the conversation along, lest your aunt turned into one of the women in your village, who would talk non-stop about their sons and grandsons when they found out you weren’t being courted. Or they would pester your mother about it. Either way, getting married was definitely not on your bucket list – and you wouldn’t be surprised if that lasted your whole life – you were quite satisfied with the thought of surrounding yourself with cats instead.

“Oh nuh-uh.” Agnes deadpanned, wagging a finger. “You don’t get to prod at me about men and not let me retaliate. Besides, Mr ‘No-Clue’ seemed an awfully pretty lad~”

You huffed. “Well I wouldn’t know, I’ve only clearly seen the back of his head, and according to Mr Durham,” you explained, lifting your hands to count on your fingers. “His name could be either David, Jeff, Al, Brian, or Ol’ Timmy.”

She raised a brow at you. “He looked like a David. Either way.” She smirked. “Your mum wouldn’t mind having someone like him as her son-in-law.”

You pouted. “Agnes, please.”

All your aunt did was laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gonne be uploading some art of MC soon >:))))

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 4!!

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[cheeseceli]

Dream of you

Pairing: hwang hyunjin × Gn!reader

Genre: angst, a little of fluff, friends to ??

Prompt: "I don't want to want you, but in my dreams I seem to be more honest. And I must admit, you've been in quite a few"

Warnings: none I'm aware of, please feel free to correct me if needed!

A/n: I felt a little bit like a genius in the last paragraph ngl. Let me know what y'all think about it | join the 1K event!

Falling in love with his best friend was not what hyunjin wanted.

Sure, the friends to lovers trope was adorable in books and movies. There's something amazing about the feeling of falling for someone who you know will catch you. It must be an incredible feeling to be understood and loved in the same amount by someone who has been there with you way before any romantic feelings could develop. Then you know that the feeling is real, deeper than the skin and will last longer than a passion.

It is, indeed, an amazing feeling. However, it is way more terrifying than what fiction portrays it like.

He couldn't tell exactly when it happened, when he fell in love with you. He remembers how you got along well with his members and how his mother always asks about you. Even kkami likes you. Maybe he fell for you when he felt you were closer to his world than ever. He also remembers how some acquaintances would constantly ask for your number and how you commented about how jeongin was cute and funny once. Maybe he realised his feelings when he felt that he could lose you forever.

Either way, he felt it was wrong. He didn't want to want you. So why did he feel like he was made for you?

Lately he started to dream about you. He dreamt about how it'd feel to wake up with you and to walk side by side. Sometimes he wasn't even in the dream, the only thing he could see was you and your smile. It was like you were always on your golden hour. You couldn't seem to get out of his mind.

Those oh so romantic nights became sleepless nights after a while, with him not wanting to fall in love with you even after closing his eyes. But that didn't seem to be so smart considering he would spend those late hours on the phone with you, muffled giggles and whispers.

He didn't want to fall for you. He tried to say countless times that it meant nothing, that you were just friends. But he knows it's all lies. He's fallen for good, and the only thing he can do about it is wait for the night to come so he can see you again, be it either through the phone or with his eyes closed.

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[killjae]

leon catdad fluff cause he’s such a cutiepie, this is for you anon!! i hope you see this :3

this is also my second fic, so please enjoy!! special tags :3 @wriosmilk @scorpiolara

ermm sweet sickle leon, praise and appreciation, catdad leon!!! you’re surrounded in lovebites!!!!!

it was storming outside, the light pitter patter of rain hitting your windowpanes continuously. the sound of thunder booming every now and then, despite the fact you were huddled under a blanket trying to keep yourself warm while watching a movie.

a ring could be heard from your doorbell as it chimed loudly, the sudden noise making you turn your head towards the door and get up.

your soft footsteps making their way across the floor before your hand reached the doorknob and opened it to a small soaked cardboard box with a wet piece of paper attached to it.

what? who would leave this here? you questioned yourself, unsure of what lies inside of the mysterious box. the thought lingering in your head as you carefully peaked over, the sound of rain filling your ears as it was pouring down outside.

there was no one to be found, who could have done this?

a small mew comes out and startles you. what? it was an animal inside, left out in the rain.

you leaned over and opened the box to find a small calico cat, it was soaked with water and mud in it’s fur as it stared up at you. poor thing. you quickly moved to take it inside despite the water leaving a trail as you brought the box inside along with the note attached.

it read. “i’m giving this cat up for adoption, as i cannot hold another one. i don’t have much time left to foster anymore animals so i’ve been sending them out to be adopted by other loving homes. please take care of her, she’s very loving and energetic when you get to know her.”

the feeling after reading the soggy paper left you with a frown and a feeling of sorrow as you looked down at the kitten once again, another meow could be heard.

you grabbed the kitten despite the mud, fleas and murky water coating your hands before bringing her over to a small bowl and filling it with warm water.

giving her a small dawn-soaped bath getting all the fleas and dirt off of her tiny body as she mewled and whined out, not yet used to the feeling of this new warmth.

she was a beautiful calico cat with a brown heart birthmark on her left cheek, almost reminding you of leon with the way you smiled at her. you wrapped her in a small blanket to keep her warm before calling leon, holding the phone to your ear as you rubbed both her sides in the blanket to warm her up faster.

“i-i found this kitten outside left in a cardboard box, with a note about her owner having a limited time left on this earth. i know you said you wouldn’t want a pet, let alone a cat, but she needs us—“

“…are you kidding? you know i’m not very fond of cats.”

“—leon, come on. she’s a baby, she looks barely 4 years old. plus, i kinda gave her a bath and everything, including the flea treatment and now i just have to get some formula that would be good for her to feed on till she gets big enough on her own.”

“..i’m coming home now.”

“don’t be mad, okay? she’s really cute.”

it wasn’t until twenty minutes later you heard the front door open and leon was taking his work boots off and his uniform before leaving himself in a tanktop and his workpants. you were sitting on the couch, keeping the kitten in your lap as she snuggled into your embrace.

“so, where is she?” leon’s booming voice came from behind as he moved from the side of the couch to sit next to you, his eyes instantly going to the small animal sitting in your embrace.

he lightly gasped seeing her fur pattern and genes before leaning closer to her. “..she’s pretty. you said someone left her on our porch? what a shame they can’t take care of anymore but that doesn’t mean we can foster her.”

“leon. she’s just a baby, a kitten literally. why can’t we keep her?” you tilted your head with a frown, looking at him before he huffed.

“we have to get her spayed, her check-ups, and going to the vet.. that’s a lot, plus YOU like her, i’m not into cats like that.” leon gave you a look, although secretly he was considering the possibilities of keeping the kitten.

“i’ll handle all of that, she’s gonna be my baby. she’s gorgeous and such a beautiful breed.” you smiled, lightly petting the kitten’s fur as she yawned before closing her eyes.

“are you sure? i still think we shouldn’t, and we should wait to get a bigger house.” leon spoke, as he crossed his arms.

little did he know.

months later you three are staying at home on a saturday as he’s throwing a squeaky mouse for your cat to catch. you ended up naming her miri, despite leon’s protest on not keeping her. he protested for a long 12 months, eventually coming to like miri.

“you’re a reall, pretty girl. a good one too, you really like this mouse, huh?” leon chuckled as he watched miri repeatedly chase it with excitement.

you stared at the two of them with a smile, remembering how leon went against keeping her a year ago when she was left on your front porch in the soaking wet rain. that stormy night, you’ll never forget the staying up late and having to change schedules because you two were new cat parents.

“shut up, okay? i know what you’re thinking of. i didn’t realize she’s not that bad and she’s actually pretty adorable.” leon spoke out of nowhere as miri was on his shoulder, nibbling his earlobe and slow blinking to signal she was really comfortable around the two of you.

leon felt a sense of pride and achievement in his life, being a catdad despite his previous attitude in the past.

he was happy to have two beautiful girls in his life that he would die for.

#leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #fluff #cute #cat dad

[ewanmitchelll]

Imagine Arctic Monkeys’s songs (II): Fluorescent Adolescent.

Imagine you are Aegon’s ex who goes to his wedding… next to his brother, Aemond. What will result of this charming meeting (not to stay a different story)?

Warnings: (loosely?) based on this movie with Keanu Reeves and Wynona Rider.

Warnings 2: light reading, modern world, rom-com vibes.

***

• You used to get it in your fishnets. Now you only get it in your night dress. Discarded all the naughty nights for niceness. Landed in a very common crisis…

As you wait to fly to Dragonstone from King’s Landing airport, you still wonder why you are doing this to yourself. To accept Aegon’s invitation to his marriage to Miss Rhaella Velaryon, his cousin, feels like a complete exhibition of some lack of self esteem.

You think you’ve gotten over him, that you overcame the wounds of this relationship, but this doesn’t sound accurate, no. What you did in practice was stopping getting yourself drunk and going to parties where you felt like a sidekick character just to please him. Part of you admits that his breaking up with you did some good to you. You quit alcohol and started to lead a healthier lifestyle.

But now here you are. Waiting for the moment where you’ll hear a voice in the airport to call the passengers of the flight 321 (how original, you think) to get to their seats. And soon you will fly to see your ex-boyfriend marrying someone else.

As you wonder whether Aegon was really a good boyfriend, you don’t spot a taller, serious, cranky-faced man coming to your side. He is wearing a dark leather jacket and simple clothes, very appropriate for a two hours flight. The man is chewing a gun and is also in a nonchalant posture that annoys you for no reason.

“Would you please stop doing that?”

The silver haired man looks at you, somewhat puzzled by what you tell him.

“Excuse me, what?”

“You know. That.”

“What’s “that”?”

“The arrogant attitude as if you are standing there, contemplating many ways to bother people with your handsomeness.”

He could not help but laugh at your disastrous attempt of flirting. As you realize what you said, you get annoyed at yourself for your lack of social skills.

“If that is your way to compliment me, I appreciate it”, he chuckles. “But I don’t think this is the right way to get to someone.”

“Oh please.”

It comes out wrong, so wrong but you haven’t done this business for ages. Now that it occurs you as you contemplate the amusement behind this stranger man’s smirk, you notice he possesses lilac eyes.

A trait that only a certain family has.

Oh shit.

“You are a Targaryen”, you remark.

He looks rather bored at your observation.

“Indeed it looks so.”

“This means… you are going to the same flight as I? To Dragonstone?”

It then occurs you both an awkward perception.

“You are his brother, Aemond.”

“You cannot be…”, Aemond looks shocked. “Who…?”

“Y/N”, you sigh awkwardly. “His ex girlfriend.”

“Fuck”, is all he can say.

Thankfully the call for the flight interrupts this situation, but it appears that you are not meant to stay away of each for so long.

***

Aemond wishes he is somewhere else, but here he is, next to his brother’s ex girlfriend. You’ve got to be kidding me…

He watches as you struggle to open the bottle of water, wondering whether he should interfere since you haven’t asked for help.

Then, opting to ignore this awkwardness between you and him, he says:

“Need some assistance there?”

You shoot him a disdainful look, but what for? A few seconds later, you say:

“…Maybe.”

He chuckles, taking it and easily opening it before giving it to you. After a while, Aemond, too involved to let go of his curiosity, asks you:

“Why are you going to his marriage?”

Accepting that these two hours may be longer than planned, you sink in your seat, but take the thread offered.

“I need to put a closure in this.”

“He’s going to marry someone else who isn’t you. Shouldn’t this be a closure enough?”

You blush at his complete reasonable remark, unable to convince yourself otherwise.

“He invited me out of politeness and by the same reason I accepted it.”

“When someone does so out of politeness, my dear, it’s because it’s expected that you don’t take it.”

You tilt your head and Aemond seems to notice how nice is your y/c hair. He can certainly see how Aegon fell for you, though he’s not going to admit it.

“Oh please. What would you know about matters of etiquette being that arrogant, Mr Know-It-All?”

“Little wonder why Aegon broke up with you. This is a title far more appropriate to you, smart ass.”

And there you have it. For another hour and half you and him do not speak.

***

• Everything's in order in a black hole. Nothing seems as pretty as the past, though. That Bloody Mary's lacking a Tabasco. Remember when you used to be a rascal?

To you and Aemond’s dismay, your hotel room is next to his. Which means he’s going to be your room neighbor.

“Your heavy sigh is enough to let your distaste known, thank you very much”, you grumble, trying to avoid that unwelcoming sentiment of being unwanted.

“I did not say a word, barely so I sighed”, Aemond protests. “Goodness me, woman, not everything is about you.”

That being said, he walks impatiently through the door and you do likewise. But destiny is not over with you yet.

*

Aemond wishes you’d dress badly, to the point where your supposed beauty is omitted and he could have a reason to mock you. But his eyes linger at the dark, short dress you wear, noticing your well shaped curves… though stopping himself to lust after you even if your y/c hair is loose in cascade and your make up highlights the color of your eyes.

“Do I look weird?”, you ask, forgetting to disguise your broken pride.

“No, not at all”, Aemond answers you, surprised by what he is inquired. “Why’d you think so?”

“Because you are staring.”

Tonight, your former brother-in-law is looking rather attractive to you. He had got ridden of his long hair, having it cut short; he is wearing a nice polo white shirt and jeans that make him look fancy.

And you could not help yourself a surprising naughty thought at what would be like to ride him.

A thought you promptly dismiss, of course.

“Am I?”, he clears his throat. “Sorry about that, didn’t mean to. You are actually…”

Before he can say “beautiful”, to your disappointment he’s distracted by the presence of Aemond’s nephews. Jacaerys and Lucerys Velaryon, brothers of the bride.

“Nice to see you, Aemond”, so greets Jacaerys, and you swear you detect some irony behind his gallant words.

“The same, nephew. Looking strong I see”, Aemond smirks, wiping out the smug of the other’s face.

“I think”, you decide to intrude before this could end unwell for both parties, “that you should follow me in pursuing wine, Aemond. Good evening boys.”

As you lead the way out of trouble, Aemond raises his eyebrows at you.

“Really now, Y/N?”

“Yup. Aegon may be a rascal, but you have no reason to be either.”

Easily convinced by you, he pours some wine in his glass before taking a distant seat at the restaurant. Aegon is busy entertaining guests, and it’s when you spot Alicent arm-in-arm with a dark haired woman.

“That is her girlfriend”, you hear Aemond say when seeing where your curious eyes are wandering to. “My mother’s a lesbian. She had a huge crush on her stepdaughter and former childhood friend, Rhaenyra, my sister. But they never made it because Rhaenyra likes men.”

“Oh”, you blink. “I didn’t know that.”

“Aegon didn’t tell you the gossips of the family?”, Aemond muses sarcastically, placing a hand on his heart, feigning to be offended.

“I’m afraid he was too busy partying”, you say rather uncomfortable, taking the wine to your lips as you savor the sour taste of it. “This wine isn’t Dornish.”

“It’s not”, he agrees.

• Oh the boy's a slag. The best you ever had is just a memory and those dreams weren't as daft as they seem, my love when you dream them up.…..

Again silence hangs in between the two of you before Aemond gives you a look, studying you for a moment.

“He wasn’t a good boyfriend to you, was he?”, so he inquires after a while.

“No, he wasn’t. But I give him credit for trying.”

Aemond chuckles quietly.

“Kudos for doing the least.”

You smile at him. Perhaps Aemond isn’t as dull nor arrogant as you formerly judged.

“It appears I must engage in socially acceptable behavior”, says Aemond then. “To greet my brother and new sister-in-law and repeat expected speeches.”

“Expected only because you correspond to these expectations”, you nudge his sides.

“And do I have another choice on the matter?”, he scoffs.

“No one forced you to come, so don’t get at me for it.”

Somehow it surprises you both that these teasings do not end up in a clash of words. Aemond actually chuckles before conceding reason to you.

“That is very true. But I am a dutiful man, Y/N.”

Saying so, he moves away to greet his brother at last. You watch him go, already missing his company and the warmth of his presence.

The funny part about all of this is that, when looking at Aegon, you don’t actually miss him. And when looking at his bride, you feel rather oddly comfortable in getting at them to congratulate for the merry occasion.

Past is past, after all, and the aching of this ugly truth doesn’t seem to ache any longer.

***

• Flicking through a little book of sex tips, remember when the boys were all electric? Now when she's told she's gonna get it, I'm guessing that she'd rather just forget it. Clinging 'til I'm getting sentimental, said she wasn't going but she went still likes her gentlemen to not be gentle…

Aemond watches as you meet your former boyfriend with his now bride-to-be. Judging by your face and your body language, all goes well. However, there is still that expected discomfort as you greet them.

So attentive is he that he doesn’t see Helaena coming. She leans by his side, amused by what is going on right under her nose.

“She said she wasn’t going, but she went still.”

Aemond turns his eyes to his favourite sibling.

“How’d you know that?”

“We remained friends, Aem. Y/N is a really good person, Egg didn’t deserve her.”

“When does he deserve any relationship he’s in?”, Aemond snorts, partly playful, partly meaningful.

Helaena smirks.

“Don’t be mean, Aem. They look genuinely happy now, which is good. I never thought I’d see him settling down one day.”

Her brother doesn’t answer, eyes still glued in the odd trio. Miss Rhaella is very comfortable in her shoes. But of course she is, she has captured his heart. At what cost, though?

“How come they broke up?”

Helaena scoffs at him.

“Oh please. Don’t tell me you don’t know the reason why they are not together for some years.” And then she adds, after poking his sides. “Do I detect an interest in you, Aemond Targaryen?”

“Laena, darling. Often the wise in our family, don’t play the dumb now.” Aemond rolls his eyes. “I could never nurture any interest of the kind in my brother’s ex. Y/N is particularly irritating.”

And that is the last part you hear.

***

He doesn’t know why, but this prince who takes pride in never falling in love with anyone, nor ever chasing after a woman, is going after you.

You too cannot conceive the reason his words hurt you, but it takes little to comprehend that you’ve been vulnerable with this odd circumstance you spontaneously dragged yourself into.

“Y/N”, he holds you by your elbow, forcing you to look at him. “Didn’t mean to say what I said.”

You shrug your shoulders off.

“In the end you have a point, though. What kind of ex goes willingly to a wedding where she was only invited out of politeness? Besides, have you seen the embarrassed look in your mother’s face? She wasn’t expecting me there”, you scoff.

Aemond smiles at you, and you don’t like how it makes you feel—as if there’s hope in the horizon.

“I don’t think this is the case. She was probably expecting a scene. Not from you, of course, but most likely that Rhaella would be unnecessarily loud. Or even Aegon. Who knows? But definitely not you.”

That being said, walls are knocked down. It all settles for now.

“Well, you know what? I think I need some wine.”

“I take it”, so says Aemond. “It’s been a while.”

“Indeed it has”.

And you smile at each other.

***

The next day both of you are found in the same bed, except nothing really happened in the night before. You realize how nice it was to just cuddle him, that his scent was much fitter to yours… than Aegon’s. Such thought embarrasses you when you get back at your senses.

You panic internally and try to disassociate of his arms, albeit unwillingly. It’s when he opens his eyes.

Aemond too is shocked when promptly observing how one got tangled with the other… without necessarily having the need of taking each other’s clothes off. This perception sort of annoys him, though.

“Where do you think you’re going?”, he asks in a voice that gives you shivers. “It’s fucking early.”

“I best find my way back to my room”, you say, hoping not to sound too awkward.

“Mm”, but of course he cannot take it for himself. “Last night was good, wasn’t it?”

“It was”, you give him a soft smile, but something about your eyes makes Aemond smile at himself. “I just don’t think prudent if we are caught. People can talk.”

“Let them talk”, he gently pulls you back and you effortlessly fall into his arms again. “I think we could go for a horseback riding today before lunch.”

You smile at yourself. Aemond spots it and he smiles too.

“We could. Though I’m afraid I don’t do horseback riding.”

“I could teach you.”

“Do I detect malice in your speech, Aemond Targaryen?”

For the first time in many moons, this bad boy is genuinely brought to laughters.

“It really didn’t occur me at all, but if you’re up to it…”

You punch his arm playfully. But for a while you two just stay like this, lying in bed, sharing laughters as if you have been the best of friends.

***

“I hate how I feel like an adolescent again. I thought I’ve done this already. Countless times”, you remark.

It’s nine in the morning and you two are dressed like going to a picnic, not a fancy breakfast to celebrate the union of the families Targaryen & Velaryon. Maybe it’s not of either interest to participate it. Besides, the landscape is far more inviting than dealing with posh relatives.

The hotel is surrounded by nature. Large trees are spotted above a green hill, surrounded by lakes and some wild animals that every now and then stop by. Not far from it, is this large, crimson white house rent by the Targaryens to celebrate the marriage of Aegon and Rhaella. The said event will happen only the next day since the couple are very fond of celebration.

Uninterested in these endless festivities, you and Aemond are heading to the top of the hill carrying with nothing other than wine and bread, perhaps some fruits too.

"And here we are", says Aemond, surprisingly in a good mood.

You two sit on the grass and its your former brother-in-law who opens the wine bottle. You two share it as it is, with no need to use glasses for the purpose of savouring the red, warm liquid.

"It is a shame we haven't been acquainted properly", you muse after a while. From where you two are, you could still spot Mrs Hightower and her lover receiving the guests alongside Mrs Velaryon, who, you seem to notice, is accompanied by a dark, curled haired man who doesn't strike you as Mr Velaryon.

"Eh, I was a little busy when you were with my brother", and when following your curious gaze, Aemond smirks and adds: "That is Mr. Strong, by the way."

"Busy? With whom?", you tilt your head, eyes now locked with his purple ones. "I feel as if I'm missing something here."

Aemond cackles before lying on the grass. As he's on his elbows, you hate how your eyes scan his frame, taking notice of his body, his part-opened legs under an old pair of jeans and a random comfortable shirt that shows some of his well build muscles.

Fuck.

You lean to grasp a few grapes before suddenly finding interest in the cloudless skies.

"Well, that is Harwin Strong", says Aemond, ignoring the first part of the question you asked him. "He is my sister's lover."

"Oh."

"Oh, indeed. Where were you when our family messed up?"

"I have no idea, maybe we were busy breaking up", you shrug your shoulders.

Now you miss the long gaze Aemond casts at you. He notices your shapely legs, well reinforced by your blue velvet shorts. A mischievous thought occurs him at the thought of removing these shorts. Containing a sigh, but not holding back such sinful thoughts, he notices you have nice, firm breasts just by the stare he gives your blouse.

Desire seems unbearable. Useless to fight against, but he stops the urge. He must. For his sake.

"You deserve someone better."

And your gaze meets his.

"My brother was unworthy of you", and he, a careful, wayward man, is drawn to you.

You, likewise, are inclined to get closer to him. Is it too early to get drunk and do things you might regret? Where is conscience when you need it?

"And who is worthy of me? You?"

Aemond side smirks at you. You two are so close to bound in deeper waters.... when someone else comes in to ruin all, of course.

It's Alys Rivers, his ex-girlfriend.

***

•You’re falling about. You took a left off Last Laugh Lane. You were just sounding it out. No you're not coming back again.

You are quick to leave the scene. Tired to be someone else’s sidekick character, you know it’s the time to part and be the protagonist of your own.

It’s been too much humiliation. First to put a closure with a man who is marrying someone else. Second… to be able to fall for his brother in a matter of, what, a day and HALF?

You realize no one is missing you anyway. So you are leaving before ceremony even begins.

As for Aemond, it’s all going worse than planned. He wishes you’d have more time to spend together. But, in honesty, he doesn’t blame you for parting like this.

He never mentioned that he and Alys were not entirely… what word could capitalize it? Untogether? Does this word even exist?

Regardless. He’s taken by a strange urge of going after you.

“…you’re not even listening to me!”, the protestations of his now ex girlfriend are annoying him.

“Frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn”, he responds rather coolly. “You’ve left me in balance for a while and now you think you can take me back? I don’t think so. Farewell, darling Alys.”

Saying so, he’s not wasting his time. These are crazy days, one might judge, where long relationships end unexpectedly and short ones may begin out of the blue.

Or perhaps not so out of the blue…

***

You are about to get in the cab when Aemond gets to you.

“Hey”, and once again he holds your wrist, thus making you looking at him. “Don’t go.”

“I can’t stay here”, you sigh dramatically. “You have unfinished business with Alys. I mean, been there, done that. Not really in the mood to rerun this movie.”

“No, this is untrue. Fuck, you are the most interesting girl I’ve met and look at me playing the fool here. Always the indecisive and vindictive, I want something new.”

Aemond doesn’t know where this urge comes from, but, unlike his brother, he is not willingly to let go of you so easily.

“And when this new goes away”, you counter argue him. “What then?”

“I am not leaving you. I am not Aegon”, he says rather anxiously. “Allow me to get to know you better, Y/N. We are going through this shit together.”

You tilt your head, but as if to shush any remaining doubts, like the adolescent he never was, Aemond pulls you against him and finally kisses your red lips.

***

It’s the wedding day. You are elegantly dressed in a pink gown that reinforces your curves and shows some collarbone. Your y/c hair is tied in a braid Helaena’d done it and you are wearing a pair of emeralds over your skin.

But you lose your breath when you see him, elegantly dressed in a black suit with a green tie. His hair purposely messed, he’s every inch the sobriquet he proudly wears.

Bad boy prince.

When his gaze meets yours, both of you know this day will be no good to either of you.

“Ready to be my partner?”

When your hands intertwine with his, so is your destiny for once and all locked with Aemond’s. One smile, one kiss. And what is meant to be a funeral is turned into something more beautiful for this unexpected couple.

#ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #house targaryen #Aemond Targaryen x you #Arctic Monkeys #Fluorescent Adolescent #rom-com fic #rom com fic