#you want to go there but you know the woods don't want you there

[kookslastbutton]

Guilty Pleasures ༓ jjk, kth (m) | chapter iii

✑ Summary: Three years of being Seoul's power couple earns you nothing but a big fat divorce settlement and your face plaster on every gossip column around town. You're angry, hurt, and desperately want to move on, but worst of all? You're still in love with the man who started the whole mess, even though the most he can ever see you as is a friend. The renowned actor you've hired to be your company's new endorser seems to have a soft spot for you though. He's easy on the eyes, you'll admit, but who actually wants a divorcee like yourself? It's unrealistic really.

pairing: ex-husband ceo!jungkook x ceo!reader, actor!taehyung x ceo!reader (not poly)

genre/AU: angst, smut, fluff, loverstoexesto ?, coworkers2?, unrequited love

Word count: 5.3k+

Warnings: some time skips (none too huge), oc and jk are both 30, Taehyung is 32, swearing, lots of introspection, tornado of emotions, morally grey characters, mentions of toxic relationships, mentions of broken home/families, themes of abandonment, mention of love bombing, reoccurring nightmares, sleep paralysis, mentions of therapy, struggles of self-blame, regret, guilt, etc., mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of sexism in the media and business world, death (minor character), life-threatening accident (major character)

playlist: Unkiss Me, Apologize, Hate That I Love You, etc.

a/n: ANGST ANGST ANGST...don't say I never warned you hahaha. Anyway, once again, I had an amazing time writing this! (although nervous af 👉🏼 👈🏼) Just FYI, there are some time skips as this starts a few weeks after the gala! So to clarify, it’s now 3 months since oc’s divorce was officially finalized, as in done (the process itself took way longer). The chapter continues from there and yeah, the pace is picked up. Okay, let’s go! Enjoy! 🥰

series masterlist | next >>

Fresh linen. Warm breeze. The smell and sound of the ocean.

You know this place too well, like a memory you hoped to have forgotten. Why are you here now? You glance around, taking in the familiar details—the blank ceiling above, the soft comforter that curls around your body like silk against your skin, and delicate rose petals scattered at the foot of the bed. It’s exactly as it was before — it feels exactly the same; too quiet, too peaceful, and too good to be true.

The sunlight streaming through the window is blinding, yet it draws you in with a force you can't resist. Carefully, you stand up, your feet meeting the cool wood floor, and you shiver. Each step you take towards the window feels heavier, like wading through water. When you reach the window, you see the sandy beach below, the waves beating rhythmically against the shore. It’s beautiful, but the painful kind.

To the left, a young couple, not much older than yourself, their hands tightly intertwined, as if afraid to let go. To the right, an older couple sitting further up the beach, comfortably silent as they take in the horizon, reminiscent of their many years together. You always dreamt of achieving the latter, yet here you stand, having neither, and the chances of ever obtaining it growing dimmer with each passing day.

For many, this was supposed to be a place of happiness, a symbol of love, promises, and new beginnings, but not for you. For you, it was a cocoon, trapping you in a deceptive comfort. You close your eyes, trying to steady your rapid breathing, yet it doesn’t prove to be of much help. Images from your past that you’ve tried blocking out of your mind time and time again suddenly resurface — the arguments, the tears, the feeling of everything and nothing at the same time.

“You’re up early,” His voice startles you, causing you to spin around in a panic. At that moment, your heart tightens in your chest, and a cold sweat forms on your brow. You thought you were alone. You’re certain of it. Yet the sight of your ex-husband standing only a few feet away, his hair still damp from his morning shower, is enough to leave you completely speechless.

"Why are you here?" you whisper, your voice trembling.

"Why are you here?" he counters, his dark eyes piercing into yours. "Isn't this what you wanted? To remember us, to remember how it felt to be together?”

What? This isn't making any sense. Why is he talking to you as if he were a ghost? Your eyes search frantically around the room until you spot it—the wedding band on his finger. No, not again. You hear yourself plead, but the words don't leave your lips. All at once, the room begins to feel smaller, the walls closing in on you. You're stuck in another manifestation of your past, this time reliving your honeymoon, three years ago in Greece.

"I didn't want this," you say, your voice barely audible. "I wanted to forget this."

"But you can't forget, can you?" he says, stepping closer. “You remember this view. You remember the floors and the walls. You remember that we had our first time together here and promised our devotion to each other."

“That’s not fair, Jungkook," you reply, taking a step back, "it's not fair at all, you left me. You don't get to patronize me like this."

“We both know our marriage came with stipulations, __. So when did I ever give you a reason to stay? Or to love me?”

You’re back in the bed, the sheets now suffocating rather than comforting. The sound of the ocean is louder, more insistent, drowning out your thoughts. You want to scream, to run, but you’re paralyzed by the fear, the guilt, the regret.

"This isn’t real,” you say to yourself, tears streaming down your face. “I’m dreaming, none of this is happening.”

“You can't escape what we had, or what we lost. We’ll always be here, together __, in this place,” he says softly, reaching out to touch your hand.

"No," you whisper, pulling your hand away. "I need to wake up. I need to let go...of you."

The room fades, his figure dissolving into the shadows. The sound of the ocean becomes a distant murmur as you fight to open your eyes. Wake up, please wake up. It's your own pleads chanting in your head. Finally, with a gasp, you awake, the nightmare diminishing like vapor.

“Fuck,” you curse, fingers gripping your sheets, “just another damn dream.” Rolling onto your back, you take a deep breath before reaching out for the glass of water on your nightstand. Its coolness soothes your dry throat. You reach for your phone next, checking the time—4:47 AM. Too early to start the day, too late to attempt falling back to sleep.

Your thumb hovers over Jimin’s name in your text threads. It would be 10 AM where he is. You consider sending a message, but you find yourself at a loss for words. Forget it, you lock your phone and rise from your bed, you’ll go for a walk instead. Yeah, it’s brisk outside, but the fresh air will help clear your mind.

After tossing on your warmest coat and scarf, you head outside, the sun beginning to break over the horizon. At first, you wander aimlessly, lost in thought as you pass the odd person or two on the sidewalk. One individual accidentally knocks into you, yet he's quick to apologize. You easily understand their rush; perhaps they've just finished the night shift and are eager to reach the comfort of home.

You imagine their loved ones who must be waiting for them. You could be wrong, and maybe you're biased, but the image you depict is a future you once envisioned for yourself—one of laughter, love, and a warm family. It’s a dream you secretly carried as a child, amidst your unstable upbringing. But as the years passed, what was once a lifelong aspiration felt more and more elusive, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. It seems, in the end, it was just a dream…nothing more.

Of course, you've achieved other goals instead, success in your career for one. It's what you wanted most the more you became an adult. Even before Jungkook came in the picture you were thriving. Yes, you needed investors to expand, but you had already made a strong name for yourself, hence the reason his company even reached out to you for a partnership in the first place.

The second, and more formidable goal you’ve achieved was saving your company. You built your business with an earnest heart, good morals, and an ambition to serve a community. You couldn’t let it all be washed out by a larger, greedier industry giant. You had to do something. Too bad your judgment was skewed the day you saw a similar ambition in Jungkook’s eyes; he was just as determined as you to save what was his.

For a while you got what you wanted, stability for your business. But you got too invested, too short-sighted to anticipate that one day, it would all feel hollow without someone proper to share it with. Alas, your prior hopes, the ones you thought were buried long ago, began returning to you as if they were an overwhelming tsunami.

You wanted warmth.

You wanted intimacy.

You wanted a home.

You sought companionship with Jungkook but no, you read the signs all wrong. Once you dropped the L word, his attentiveness towards you skyrocketed. He began calling you while you were apart, surprising you with little gifts, and setting more time aside so you could both take Bam to the dog park on free days. But then it all stopped. After months of showering you with attention, his efforts exhausted him, so he looked for the first exit out.

You remember getting the text one afternoon— When will you be home tonight? We need to talk about something. Selfishly, you hoped he was going to tell you that you could take that trip to Fiji together. You had been hinting at it for the last two weeks. Of course, you were wrong because the last time you checked, trip itineraries didn’t come with divorce papers. At that moment, you realized that Jungkook didn’t try to love you in the slightest, he tried loving at you; love bombing 101. Your ties are now completely severed.

Yesterday marked three months since your divorce was finalized. You didn’t cry like you thought you would, but you did meet with Melody that day. As your therapist, she offered you her empathy, validation, and perspective. You feel you’ve gotten better since you started meeting with her, finally beginning to heal. Yet the unsettling dream that haunted your sleep last night shows you there are many things still left to resolve, feelings you need to confront, but where to start?

You love your ex-husband, but why?

Can it even be called love?

And do you really need him to love you back?

While you can only offer fragments of an answer for the first two, you seem to have a better-formed answer for the last.

No, you don’t need Jungkook to love you. He’s proven to you time and time again that you are not the one he can bear his heart to. He’s always reiterating that he wants you to find someone else, someone more deserving of you, whatever that means. Likely, it’s all projection. Out of the two of you, he’s the one more likely to re-marry.

As for you, you’ll always love him, at least a semblance of it. After all, he was once a part of you. But what was once a part of you, doesn’t need to be anymore. You have to let him go...though you wish you didn't have to.

You continue walking straight until you find yourself drawn to a small park overlooking the city skyline. It's fairly empty, with only a few people nearby. As you settle onto a weathered bench, you take in the view before you. It stretches endlessly. Sunrises have always held a special place in your heart—the amber glow breaking through the abyss of darkness as if a beacon of hope.

"You'll get through this __," you reassure yourself, “one day at a time.”

“Happy six months, boss!”

A goofy, boxy smile graces the man’s lips as he leans against the doorframe of your office. You take in his appearance: crème-colored sweater paired with dark brown slacks, the fabric impeccably tailored to his tall, lean frame. His ebony hair is perfectly parted down the center and feathered out to either side of his face, giving him a soft, approachable look. The glasses are new though, round with a hint of gold. Though a minor accessory, they seem to tie the rest of the look together.

Classy, yet cozy, you hum silently, it suits him.

Everything about the way he’s dressed today complements his features—not that it could be any other way, as Taehyung could never not look good in something. You learned that the hard way when you opted against a gaudy shirt and pant set your stylists suggested he wear for a commercial. Taehyung, being a free spirit, decided to try it on for kicks, and yeah, it strangely worked. He ended up shooting the entire commercial with it on. That video’s gotten your business the highest engagement rate across all your media platforms to this day.

“Mr. Kim, does six months of working together really merit a celebratory drop-in?” You lean back in your desk chair, arms folded as you narrow your eyes at the man. You're taunting him, not that he minds.

“Please,__,” he starts, stepping further into the room, his presence effortlessly filling the space. “The only person that still calls me that is the intern who works on set with us. Makes me feel old, like I’m double my real age.”

“Well, you are older than both of us.”

Taehyung gives you the look, a mix of amusement and mild aggravation.

“Two years is hardly considered older, but if you’re done trying to prod me, I’d like to ask you a series of serious questions.”

“Okay, what?” You straighten your back, curious to know what he’s thinking.

“Red or white wine?” He waits for your response, eyes seemingly hopeful. You're unsure where he's going with this, so you delay your response, suspicious of the spontaneity of the inquiry.

“Red,” you respond, cautiously. Taehyung seems pleased.

“Strawberries or blueberries?”

“Strawberries, though I prefer cherries most."

“Science or literature?"

"Literature." You surprise him with this one. "I like books, vintage ones."

"Do a lot of reading in your spare time?" he asks.

"When I get some, yes."

"Me too. Tolstoy?"

"Occasionally," you answer. "Where are you going with this, Taehyung?"

He shrugs. "Just making conversation." He pauses before continuing, “I also happen to know a place that offers all those things plus private bookings. How about you and I go for dinner tonight, as colleagues? If you hate the wine, I’ll drink it for you.”

The weight of his request hits you like a ton of bricks. Apart from a handful of social events, you and Taehyung haven't exactly mingled outside of the office. His sudden invitation to go out for dinner takes you by surprise, especially considering the nature of your professional relationship. However, you can't deny the subtle shifts in his behavior, the way he's been checking in on you more often, especially since the Winter Gala. Weeks have passed since then, but, no doubt, the memory of that night still lingers in both your minds—the shaming from a bitter business competitor, the unwanted press shining a light on your divorce, and your ex-husband who so easily approached you like it was nothing.

Taehyung suggested for you to slip away through the back door with him, offering to drive you home himself rather than leaving you with your limo driver. But you declined, feeling embarrassed that he wasn't merely a witness to the night's events, but also made to be a spectacle himself. You never wanted him to feel like he had to pity you or coax you through your personal trials. Being a good colleague is one thing, but he didn't need to go above and beyond.

“I don’t know if I can join you tonight, I'm sorry. I have a lot to do,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. It's not far from the truth with the mountain of business reports and budget plans to look over. Though your business remains functioning, it's a lot to maintain, especially with the number of investors having withdrawn their support once news got out about your marital separation. It's unfortunate how much a person's situation and the things they've built can change on someone else's dime.

“You sure?" Taehyung tries again, careful not to sound pushy. "The place isn’t overly posh, but we could go elsewhere if you’d prefer."

“I’m sorry, Taehyung, maybe another time?” you say, fingers fidgeting with a few documents on your desk, a nervous habit you developed ages ago. “I-"

“I understand,” he says, his expression softening, a hint of disappointment flickering in his eyes before he masks it with a gentle smile. "I have a film shoot that might go late anyway. Speaking of which, I'm expected on set in about half an hour so I'm going to head out, but if you change your mind, you know how to reach me."

You nod, recalling having his contact in your phone. The two of you agreed it would be easier to coordinate meetings and schedules this way. "I will, thank you. Good luck with your filming."

As you watch him leave, a twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience. Perhaps you shouldn't have dismissed him so quickly, considering how insistent he seemed. It's as if he was genuinely looking forward to the affair.

No, you can't entertain it any further. You have no way of knowing how far the night might've led—it's best to leave Kim Taehyung alone.

When you declined Taehyung's invitation to get dinner, you didn’t expect it to result in not seeing or hearing from him for the next week and a half. As an endorser, he doesn't work at the office regularly, coming and going as needed and since you hadn’t had any promotional projects for him recently, his absence seemed normal at first.

But this was Kim Taehyung. The same Taehyung who loved making spontaneous visits to the company, especially towards the end of the week. He often came in once, twice, sometimes three times a week to talk with Namjoon, your secretary, in particular. Somehow, the pair had become friends, and since Namjoon’s desk was near yours, Taehyung would drop by whenever he saw your door open. So, not hearing from him for 11 days straight was strange, like he'd vanished.

It was now Friday evening, the clock pushing 5 pm. You consider texting him to make sure he's okay, but wouldn’t that be hypocritical? You had agreed with yourself to leave him alone. Maybe he was on vacation, perhaps at a vineyard, or had taken on another film project. Being a highly talented actor, Taehyung had no shortage of casting directors contacting him for their movies and TV shows.

Embarrassingly, you hadn’t actually seen any of his movies. You enjoyed a good rom-com now and then, like the ones Taehyung starred in, but you usually opted for something more mindless when you had the time to watch anything.

You can imagine the loyal following he has though, as Taehyung was the epitome of a "dream boat" with his natural good looks and expressive eyes. He must be good at kiss scenes, which must be especially difficult for anyone dating him. You know you'd have a hard time accepting it at least, the fact that your flawless actor boyfriend was off making out with equally beautiful co-stars on set, that is. Anyway, as your endorser, maybe you should try supporting his films a bit more. There had to be one that would catch your eye.

Curious, you open a new tab on your phone and search for him.

"Holy fuck," the curse leaves your lips the minute the search returns. Dozens of articles display on your phone screen at once, all covering South Korean actor Kim Taehyung's recent motorcycle accident. You checked the publishing date—six hours ago. “Taehyung’s in the hospital. He’s in the fucking hospital!”

Panicked, you leave your office to speak with your secretary.

“Ms. __,” Namjoon greets you immediately, a trace of hesitation in his tone upon seeing your frazzled state. “Is everything alright?”

“Joon,” you refer to him by his pet name, “Did you know that Taehyung’s in the hospital?”

“What?” He seems as shocked as you, his eyebrows shooting up in alarm.

“It happened this morning around eleven or something. It was a collision, a motorcycle accident. Oh god, he’s—he’s been taken to the ER,” you choke out the words, struggling to maintain your composure as you try recalling one of the articles you skimmed. “We have to go. I have to go right now.”

“I’m coming with you.” Namjoon leaps from his chair, grabbing his keys from his desk drawer. “I’ll drive.”

“No,” you stop him, “I don’t know how long this’ll be and you usually work until 5:30, so I don't want you to have to be stuck at the hospital with me. I want you to be able to call it an early night if you want. We'll take separate cars over.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll meet you over there then?”

“Yeah.” You nod back, clutching your keys harder in your palm. “Yeah, sounds good.” You turn around to head for the nearest exit, but your secretary stops you mid-step.

“__,” he calls you by your name, having known you for the past decade permits him to do so. He softens his eyes when he sees the worry in your own clear as day. “He’s gonna be okay. We have to believe that. Please drive safe.”

“You too,” you say, then disappear from his sight.

When you arrive, it’s a madhouse. Sirens blare as ambulances rush into the hospital parking lot, doctors and nurses race from room to room, and fans—so many fans—crowd outside, all waving signs of comfort and support.

“I'm here to see Kim Taehyung,” you say urgently to the charge nurse. She recognizes you immediately and throws you a look of distaste, but you’re too focused on the emergency at hand to care. “I’m sure you know who I am, but I need to see him. We work together, we're colleagues.”

“Ms. __,” she replies, surprisingly calm and collected amidst her obvious dislike of you. “I’m afraid he’s currently receiving serious medical attention and won’t be able to have any visitors at the moment.”

“I’ll wait,” you blurt out the words faster than you anticipate. You feel like you're eating your words from earlier about leaving him alone, but this is different—his life is on the line. "I can wait for him.”

“Visiting hours are only until 8 pm. I really don’t think—”

“Please,” you interrupt, your voice stern and urgent. “He's part of my team. He's my...friend. I have to know if he’s okay.”

The nurse hesitates, her expression softening slightly as she sees the genuine concern in your eyes. “Alright,” she finally says, her tone firm but kinder. “You can wait in the family lounge, but I can’t promise you’ll be able to see him anytime soon."

“Thank you,” you say, relief flooding through you. She directs you to a quiet room down the hall, away from the commotion where you're better able to calm your racing thoughts. You find a seat in the far corner immediately and send a quick text to Namjoon, letting him know where you are.

As you wait, the minutes drag by painfully slow. You can’t stop replaying the articles in your mind from earlier, the words “motorcycle accident” echoing like a mantra. How did this even happen? How bad was his condition? How much strain is this going to put on his acting career? You wish you knew.

A handful of nurses enter the lounge occasionally, calling out names and providing updates, but none of them are Taehyung’s. You find your ears burning every time the door opens, heart racing, only to sink back into your seat when it’s not about him.

Finally, you catch sight of Namjoon, his face mirroring your concern. He spots you immediately and rushes over, taking a seat in the chair beside you. “Any news?” he asks, his voice low and urgent.

“Not yet,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “They said he’s receiving serious medical attention and don't know when we'll be able to see him. We have to leave by 8.”

Namjoon nods, his expression grim but unwavering “We’ll wait together.”

"If you need to leave sooner than—"

"I know," he interrupts. "I appreciate it, but please let me be here too."

You sit in silence from then on, exhaustion beginning to weigh heavy on both your shoulders. It's not until 7:35 when a doctor walks into the lounge, his tired eyes scan the room until they land on you and Namjoon.

“Are you here for Kim Taehyung?” he asks. "I'm Dr. Min."

You nod, your heart in your throat.

“He’s stable for now,” Dr. Min explains, “but he's still in critical condition. We’re doing everything we can.”

“Can we see him?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He sighs. “Only for a few minutes. And you need to be prepared—he’s heavily sedated and has sustained significant injuries.”

“I understand,” you reply, mentally preparing yourself for what’s to come.

Dr. Min leads you through a maze of hallways until you reach the ICU. As you enter Taehyung’s room, the sight of him hooked up to machines and covered in bandages nearly breaks you. You take a deep breath and step closer, Namjoon right next to you.

“Taehyung,” you whisper, but he remains motionless, his breathing steady and rhythmic. The severity of his injuries is evident in the way he lies.

“We're here, Taehyung,” Namjoon continues, noticing your slightly frozen state. “We’re both here for you. Please, fight through this. You and I, we're good pals, remember? Like brothers. You have to—"

Although the more collected one before, Namjoon begins to struggle with his words. You place a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. Having known him for 10 years, you know that despite his strong exterior, he has one of the softest souls you know.

"I think I have to go, __. It'll be better if I see him when he's awake. I want to stay longer, but I just don't know if I can."

"I understand, we can't stay much longer anyway. Go home and get some rest. Dr. Min will call us when he's awake and able to talk."

After you give him a hug, Namjoon leaves the room, leaving you alone with Taehyung. You end up pulling up a chair beside his bed and slowly reach out to touch his hand. It's instinctive for you, the need to feel his heartbeat overpowering any other thought.

"I'm so sorry this happened to you, Taehyung," you start, your voice a mere murmur. "You'll push through this, right? Like in the movies you film. I confess I haven't seen any of them yet, but—but I will! That's how I found out about all this actually. We hadn't seen you for nearly two weeks, so I searched you up. Not in a weird way though, okay? Not like...anyway, I'm sorry I said no to you that day. When you asked to go for dinner, it threw me off. This whole thing with my ex-husband just has my mind in fifty million directions, so I promise it wasn't you. I hope you didn't think that."

"You've always seemed to show up for me, whether it's for the good of the company or even a little emotionally in some aspects. With the reputation I have these days, I'll always be grateful that you chose to work with me. You have a good heart, Taehyung, so much that I think if we ever got close, I think it might be unbearable for me," you pause, a couple of tears slipping down your face.

Just then, a creaking of the room's door momentarily pulls your attention away. Dr. Min stands a few feet away, clearing his throat—a gentle but firm signal that it's time for you to leave.

"I have to go soon, but I'll be back tomorrow, okay? Even if you're still asleep or not, I'll stop in and sit with you for a while because...because I need to be sure that you'll be alright. Namjoon will come see you too when he's ready. But I'll see you in the morning, alright Kim?"

You squeeze Taehyung's hand gently before heading out of the room, thanking the medical staff along the way.

When you get home, the first thing you do is head straight for the bathroom. Your whole body feels riddled with stress and exhaustion, and you know that the only thing that can offer even the slightest amount of solace is the warmth of water.

Yet not four minutes after immersing yourself in your tub does your phone ring, demanding your attention. Being this late into the evening, you figure it has to be Jimin.

But you're wrong.

When you reach to answer the call, it's actually an unrecognizable number that's flashing on the screen. You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to answer or let it go to voicemail.

"Hello?" you answer cautiously, curiosity getting the best of you.

There's a brief pause on the other end before his voice comes through, words slightly muddled. "Hey, it's me," he says, his tone soft. "I've been...I've been thinking about my life, you know? About everything.

"J-Jungkook?" Your heart sinks as you quickly decipher the owner of the voice, but then it hardens. It's obvious from the slurring of his words that he's been drinking. "Why on earth are you calling me? And at this godforsaken hour too."

"I told you...I've been thinking about my life."

"I'm hanging up."

"No, please, stay on the line for five minutes. Please, I have to tell you...what I've been thinking."

"You have three minutes," you sigh, ready for anything (except what he was about to spring on you).

"I wanted to save my company," he continues, his voice wavering slightly. "For my mom's sake, you know? My dad owned it and stuff but she was the one who was behind all the technology...and that's why I married you. You...reminded me of her."

Your breath catches in your throat as he reveals the truth behind his actions, the raw honesty of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. You knew very little of Jungkook's mother, too, as he didn't speak of her often.

"And then...then there's the real reason I divorced you," he admits, his voice breaking slightly. "My parents had a terrible marriage, you know? My mom...she had to manage my dad's temper for years...he didn't love her at all. He just married her because she was smart and could make him rich. It made her so unhappy, but you know she loved him so much. She...she passed away when I was 16, and...and I didn't want that for you. I didn't want you to be trapped like she was, because I'm like my dad you know? My feelings are...weird... I never know what the hell I'm...feeling. I'm probably not making a lot of sense am I?"

"I'm trying to understand." You want to hang up here and now but every time he speaks, you cant bring yourself to do it. The pain in his voice cuts through you like a knife, and it's a side of him that you've rarely seen before.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice thick with regret. "I'm sorry for being such a dumbass that day I got my stuff. That was like, six months ago and I still hate myself for it. I shouldn't have made an advance on you like that. I was...I was immature, and I wasn't thinking."

"After the gala," he continues, his words becoming more coherent as he speaks. "I...I felt even more guilty, you know? Because, I still have a photo of you and Bam on my dresser. It's small, but I've tried to put it away over and over and over again, but I can't do it. I don't know what's wrong with me...it's almost a year since we lived under the same goddam roof and I can still smell your perfume, I can still remember how you laugh with both your lips and your eyes...the way you scrunch you nose when—"

"What are you trying to say Jungkook?" You interrupt. "That you're sorry and can't get me out of your head, so you need my forgiveness to move on?"

"No! That's...that's not it at all. I mean, I do want your forgiveness but—"

"Well, what the fuck is it?" You hate how aggressive your voice is sounding, but the obscene amount of incoherent information he's revealing to you is overwhelming. "It's 10 freaking pm at night, I had a long day, I'm sleep deprived, and Taehyung's in the fucking hospital which is so distressing, so I'm sorry, but I can't handle any more of your cryptic messages!"

"I think I might love you," he finally says, his voice raising as well. "I know I'm...I'm being a dumbass, but I...I think I love you. I love you __, fuck!"

a/n: So....how are we feeling about Jungkook rn? Also, my darling Taehyung is taking one for the team here 😭 🤍 LMK what you think! Lastly, I understand the timeline of events is a bit tricky to follow, so if it helps I can put something in the series masterlist to help. Vote for jjk or kth!

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

Tags:

@jksjx @lovingkoalaface @junecat18 @babystarcandyjk97 @wobblewobble822 @a-gayish-unicorn @neverthefirstchoice @whipwhoops @hubbytaehyung @jalexad @cassies-cookies @llallaaa @marshieeeemallow @baechugff @lovemazespluto @eegyo @iwanttobecalledaurora @harmonyflora @francheskarm34 @sftlrmin @saba-ya @11thenightwemet11 @yoursnixni @zafirowwa2909 @btsffreader92 @junniesoleilkth @iamcamlb @bangctans @lilliankoo @talyaaas-blog @blackswan18 @appleh4ad @hoseokteardrop @613tannies @whoa-jo @borahaeb1ch @getougf @chimmisbae @kookcobain @miniekookiegucci @purplelanterns @eegyo @inthemiddleofsomething22-blog @darkuni63 @bibimboppin19 @phanniefoo @chieftoadturkeynickel @existenciosa @dasommwa @minayas1998 @sumzysworld @pwd54gr54 @jellycake2109 @sigxx123 @00frenchfries00 @importantperfectionmiracle @stigma93 @lpgirl2324 @youremyjinearth @moonups-stuff @bubblyyz @hvnnibvni @ttanniett @secfir @urlovelily @iknowhistouch3 @nadzzzblog @itsmina29 @mochibites00 @syazzzlisa @ash07128

side note: I tried tagging readers in comments but most of them didn't go through, so i'm sorry about the clutter here...😬

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x you #jungkook imagines #taehyung smut #taehyung angst #bts smut #bts angst #bts au #bts imagines #bts fanfics #bts x reader #fic:guiltypleasures #kookslastbutton

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

Hello! I know that your asks are closed right now, but this idea just popped into my mind and I needed to get it to you before it disappeared. Please feel free to ignore this until your asks reopen or just ignore it in general. I don't want you to feel forced to do anything, especially when I'm breaking your blog rules!

Jack Howl × Gorou M! Reader

I just noticed that you didn't have anything for Jack where he's by himself; so I wanted to give you a bit of inspiration! Have a wonderful day, Mr. Benny.

Jack Howl - With Gorou-Like Male Reader

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Originally I was going to do all of the asks from franchises that I hadn't written for before first, but then I saw this and remembered that Jack didn't have any stand-alone content on my blog yet, so I just had to right this injustice. —Benny🐰

                                                                                                   

🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺

🍐  Jack first met you at the orientation ceremony. He sort of already felt comfortable around you because of your canine traits and the way you carried yourself with such seriousness and determination. The white-haired boy also thought you smelled kind of nice; like the ocean and water-logged wood, but there was also a bit of sweetness in there that he couldn't quite identify. As orientation ended and all the Savanaclaw students made their way to the mirror chamber, Jack's curious eyes stayed glued to your cloaked form.

🍐 Coincidentally, you and Jack ended up sharing a dorm room, how nice for him. He was a bit shocked when you told him right off the bat that if he needed help or just someone to talk to you would readily lend an ear. The fact that he was bunked with such a supportive person was incredibly relieving for the wolf-eared boy. While it would take him a little while to open up to you more, considering you just met, Jack would be sure to act on your offer in the future.

🍐  Jack loves exercising with you! After learning about your previous status as a general before your enrollment in the NRC, he requested to know your exercise routine during that time, to which you happily agreed. You both have a habit of waking up at the crack of dawn and going for a run which made you decide to ask him to accompany you instead of heading out separately. Your skills with a bow and arrow also caught Jack's attention, often watching you practice and occasionally catching glimpses of a certain weird Pomefiore third-year hiding in the bushes.

🍐 During one particularly hot day, you and Jack ended up staying in your shared dorm room after class instead of going outside or to the dorm's indoor gym to exercise; far too hot to will yourselves to move. This is when the wolf beast-man learned of your shared habit of your extra appendages giving away your emotions, your orange-brown and white ears drooping with exhaustion from the heat. When Jack suggested going to the dorm kitchen and making smoothies, he had to hold back a chuckle at how your ears perked up and how your tail began to sway. Although, when you saw where his gaze was directed you grew embarrassed and covered your butt with a pillow.

🍐 Speaking of sweet things, Jack discovered that his dorm mate had a fondness for sweets, he remembered you mentioning that you didn't get them very often while you were a general. He actually whipped up some pear jam on toast for you once to see what you thought about the taste and was happy that he found a fellow pear enjoyer in you. You did tell him that your favorite fruit was something called lavender melon, a tree fruit that was native to the cluster of islands that you grew up on. The fruit was on his mind for a while after that, Jack may or may not have made plans to eat it with you in the future.

🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺•♡•🐺

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

#hunn1e bunn1e's ask box #ask box #asks #ask #answered ask #answered asks #answered #answered anon #male reader #twst #twst jack #twst x reader #twst x male reader #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland jack #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #disney twisted wonderland #jack howl #jack howl x reader #jack howl x male reader #jack #jack x reader #jack x male reader

[yandere-sins]

Okay so I feel a bit silly about this, but I just have to ask at some point. To keep it short, I wonder if Dr Ratio has already had his first time and if he even has sex often. I mean he is a grown adult at all. Don't see me as a horny Dr Ratio simp, I'm just interested and little things like that always make me like a character even more. I would be happy if you would answer this question :)♡

Why feel silly? We love all kinds of sexual status here, especially when it's someone as delicious as Ratio! Also, I appoint you simp from now on, because we should be simping for him (but don't be like me and have him in your team just for aesthetics bc my Ratio makes no damage at all! :D And that's okay... :'D)

As wonderful as our Doc is, this is a very open-to-interpretation question. You can honestly go both ways with him, and we'll never know because... he probably wouldn't even tell or show any signs to his darling how much experience he has once he gets with them ;)

Maybe he is a virgin and a very stoic and pathetic one at that. In his pursuit of making knowledge more accessible to every "idiot", there isn't much time for personal needs. I totally see him pass out from sleep deprivation despite being horny and then suppress his morning wood with a cold shower, even though he's really not happy about it. No one knows why he's so upset, but they all avoid him on mornings like that. There's no way he never put a hand on himself in all these years, but he won't know the blessing that comes when someone else does it, until he meets his darling.

It's an instant game over for him, Veritas unable to form a complete sentence when he first meets you, his cock springing up, precum staining his clothes. It threatens to burst out of his pants, hard and agitated and in desperate need to be treated to its first experience of intercourse. He tries to play it cool with a faint blush on his cheeks, tries his usual spiel of pretending he's better than you after catching his composure immediately, always gauging your reactions and wanting to see them to fuel his desire. All while completely hiding the fact that he wants to drop to his knees and hump your feet.

That night, jerking off is more like ripping off as he just can't stop the thoughts of you invading his mind and making him hard again and again. His whole bed is sullied, the tissue box empty, the Doctor is panting and blushing and immediately reminded of how plump and soft your lips were. Or your ass as you walked away from him. The sparkle in your eyes and the few exposed spots of skin in your outfit. And then his thoughts are going wild with you bent over on his bed, exposing yourself to him, your giggles and moans replaying in his ears, although he made all of them up. Honestly, he's a bit ashamed afterward for losing his composure quite like that.

It doesn't make him any less pathetic when he finally gets his hands on you. You might be fighting and hating him, but he tied you up exactly the way he needs so he can fuck your thighs or pry your pretty lips open to stuff your mouth with his thick cock. And you never disappoint him in that regard. You'll still be as amazing, making him cum almost instantly the first few times, after being with him for years. Ratio will still yearn for the warmth of your body around his dick decades down the line, and he'll greet you with the same enthusiasm (just more stamina and better technique) every time he comes home to you. You two really grow together; isn't that sweet? ;)

OR

Man's still stoic and pathetic, but not with all those partners he had over the years, oh no. It's really bothersome to him to actually let one of those groupies get a piece of his cake, and he doesn't do it because his mind wants to. But it's just normal to fulfill a need he has, right? Veritas doesn't bed some random person (who found him super hot and practically ogled him all evening) for pleasure or enjoyment. Even less for payment, though some people try to buy his time and affection.

In short, he's a miserable lover.

We should feel bad for the people thinking he's going to blow their minds. It's not like he hurts them or anything, but he does his thing and leaves, telling anyone who's confused and dissatisfied that he didn't enjoy it much, either. He got to finish; that's all that matters to him. He's really awful to these poor souls; we can't deny it.

But then he met you, and everything changed. You are constantly on his mind, the underside of his table stained with remnants of cum as he savagely had to jerk himself up to free his thoughts again. But it doesn't really help, and he imagines doing things with you on his table, books, honestly, everywhere. Ratio has to flee any function if someone there happens to have the same perfume as you because he cannot control himself once reminded of you. And in the bitterness of moaning your name in an empty room, his cock mangled and still hard despite previous jerk-off sessions, he decided he has to have you, just so he can get a remnant of himself back. 

He is reading up on how to be a better lover as he fingers you simultaneously, observing your reactions and even going down on you... for research, of course. No one knew he'd get drunk on bringing you pleasure. On learning that the reason you were feeling so damn good was his work. Sure, it boosts his ego, but you have no idea what it does to him to see your eyes dazed, your expression twisting. He teases you, but it gets him off quicker than anything else when you admit how good you feel. He'll be grinning from ear to ear the following day, remembering what you said, only to pretend he wasn't reveling in the memories when you catch him. He loves teasing you, kissing every part of your body while you squirm, knowing it turns him even more on than it does you. It's a good thing you need so much convincing, so he can satisfy his greed for you plenty before the real deal begins.

Suddenly, sex is so much more interesting when he does it with you, no matter how much you complain in the beginning—your moans say otherwise. You may hate him, but gods, does he love the look on your face when you're overstimulated, and Ratio is only getting started, making you arch your back as he plunges into you, your legs quivering around his head. Drawing out the act and letting you 'suffer' is so much more delicious and enjoyable than anything he had with another person before. He doesn't even wonder if it would have changed anything for his feelings had he done his research with the partners he fucked before. Only you can make his heart race, get him drunk on your juices, and look like an angel in his sheets covered in his cum. It's only you, it's only ever been you, and he'll never let that go.

Because no matter how much you simp for him, he'll always simp more for you ;)

#Dr. Ratio #veritas ratio #yandere ratio #yandere!ratio #hsr #yandere hsr #honkai star rail #yandere honkai star rail #yandere talk #yandere #lemon #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere fanfiction #yandere writing #yandere stories #yandere oneshots #yandere oneshot #yandere drabble #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #Yandere TW

[juanarc-thethird]

We're a Married Couple....

Jaune: *Talking to a camera* We're a Married Couple. When she wants to go to the gym and I wanna sleep in, we go to the gym.

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

Yang *Talking to a camera* I'm the wife, I prefer to swallow.

Jaune: *Lowers the camera, disappointed* Honey...

Yang: *Starts laughing*

Jaune: People we know are going to see this. We need to say funny things about married couples.

Yang: Okay, okay, I get it.

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

Jaune: *Talking to a camera* We're a married couple, I don't have a to-do list. I have a honey-do list.

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

Yang: *Talking to a camera* I'm the wife. My favorite breakfast in bed is his morning wood.

Jaune: *Lowers the camera, again* Honey....

Yang: *Starts laughing, again*

Jaune: We just talked about this.

Yang: You keep talking about being a married couple, and what else am I supposed to think about?

Jaune: Just talk about how you love to go to target or something?

Yang: Okay, okay, I go it.

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

Jaune: *Talking to a camera* We're a married couple. If we now start watching a show together, I'm no longer allowed to watch any episodes without her.

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

Yang: *Talking to a camera* I'm the wife. After a long day shopping at target, I like to get railed.

Jaune: *Lowers the camera* Honey!!!

Yang: *Starts laughing harder*

Jaune: *Sighs* Alright, let's take a break, regroup, and come back to do this.

#rwby incorrect quotes #jaune arc #jaune #rwby jaune arc #rwby jaune #rwby yang #rwby yang xiao long #yang #yang xiao long #jaune x yang #rwby jaune x yang #rwby dragonslayer #dragonslayer #rwby #rwby shitpost

[ghouljams]

I wanna do my own writing challenge but I am also a jokester and a buffoon, so...

Ghoul's "King Killer" Challenge (inspired by @391780 and @glitterypirateduck)

I want to see people kill König in absolutely insane and convoluted ways. I'm gonna be honest this is for the König lovers as much as the haters, you cannot tell me you love a character if you're not willing to explode them in your mind just a little bit.

Rules:

Please be 18+ to participate and tag me @ghouljams in your post. I'll put all posts onto a master list. Please tag your fics appropriately, and please no suicide or rape, these are meant to be comedic deaths.

This can be angst fic or this can be a background death in a different character fic, I just want that man dead. And most importantly I want it to be in an incredibly convoluted and stupid way. I'm providing what I call "dumb ways to die" prompts but honestly if the spirit moves you or you have an idea fucking go for it.

There's no real time limit on this but I'll give y'all June 16-23 as the golden zone.

"I want that man dead"

The second known case of spontaneous human combustion

Death rolled by an alligator

Eaten by hampsters

Fell out of bed too hard

Someone stuck their finger in his gun and it exploded looney toons style

His phone battery exploded while he was calling someone

Bit by a rabid animal

Turned into goo

Hit by a t-shirt canon

Tried to pet a bear

Testing a stab proof jacket gone wrong

Attempted to drive a fork lift

Tried to outrun a train

Attempted to rescue a chicken from a well

Tried to disassemble a grenade

Insisted he could literally walk on water(couldn't)

Snake coiled around his shotgun and ended up pulling the trigger

Attempted to demonstrate "unbreakable" glass

Tripped and fell into concrete

Shook a soda can too hard and it exploded

Fell out of a roller coaster seat

Ate a peach pit and got cyanide poisoning

Vicious mockery but in real life

Ate expired food

Tried to climb an electric fence

Smoking near blasting powder

Hit by a meteor

Attempted electrical work himself

Anal gone wrong

Anal gone right

Osha violation

Was watching the eclipse while driving

Sat too long in a sauna

Fell down stairs

Choked on own spit

Lawn chair balloon flight into controlled air space

Circus performance gone wrong

Attempted karate

Easily preventable causes

Flying hammer

"Be quiet silica gell packet, can't you see I'm starving?"

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing"

"You're not going to shoot me, you would've done it already"

"I saw someone do this in a movie once"

A legless lizard crawled somewhere it wasn't supposed to

Spiders

That evil bunny from Monty Python

Driving with both feet

Fell in a wood chipper

Attempted sword swallowing

So so bad at blowjobs

Overheated

The hubris of men

Too many pillows on his bed

Met a cryptid

Weather related accident

Walked into a pole

Falling piano

Siphoning gas

Bee sting

Mosh pit accident

Not wearing a helmet

Not watching where he's going

Fell in a hole

"Looks safe enough"

Antagonizing the crows

Ghosts

Cow tipping gone wrong

"No little german boy don't go in that cave"

Microwaving something

Rube Goldberg Machine

Dinosaurs

Time Machine

Shrink Ray

Building falls on just him

Dog farts (those things are deadly)

Crafting gone wrong

Jumanji

Cuteness Aggression (The cute thing is aggressive)

Vampire

Werewolf

Ink poisoning

A dog wags too hard and hits him with their tail

Slipped on a banana peel

Choking on a life saver candy

Electric car explodes

If none of these strike your fancy feel free to come up with your own convoluted and silly death for the man we all love (or love to hate)

#ghoul speaks #cod writing challenge #writing challenge #konig #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #könig cod #könig call of duty

[katzu919]

okau so this idea randomly came to mind so if requests r still open may i request a one of tartaglia’s little brother whos the reader. The reader even being younger than tartaglia he could be around (18-20), he ended up falling into the abyss like tartaglia, it felt as if it was years for reader in the abyss but was maybe only a couple hours. tartaglia finds out about this and hunts down his brother and comforts him since he knows what its like in the abyss. idk if this makes sense but take ur time :) , ive seen ur page floating around for a while now and just ended up following u lmao

call of the abyss

Ajax had returned to Snezhnaya after being abroad for work. Ajax’s brother, Y/n had just turned eighteen and Ajax got to celebrate it just a few days late. Y/n and his friends went out to celebrate him finally becoming an ‘adult’.

“Oh come on!” One of his friends nudged his arm. “The night barely began!” His friends laughed. They had been hanging out in an old fort they’ve had since their younger years. The old building somehow surviving the harsh weather of Snezhnaya for multiple years.

“I promised my brother I wouldn’t stay out too late so we could hang out. And he’s rarely home and I don't want to waste this time I have with him.” He replied as I stood up from the wood plank he was sitting on.

“It’s fine man, we get it.” His other friend replied. They sat higher up, looking down on Y/n. “You good to walk home by yourself? I think we’re going to stay out.” Y/n nodded his head and crossed his arms, and annoyed look crossed his face.

“Yes I can. I’ve walked the path many times, I don’t even live far.” He huffed as he made his way out of the fort. His friends laughed at his reply as he slowly made his way towards his home.

The snow crunching beneath his feet as the wind started to pick up a bit. Y/n groaned as he pulled his coat tighter to himself. Snow started to blow up around him making it hard to see anything but a few feet in front of him. His breath started to fasten as panic set in a bit. How did the weather change so drastically so quickly? The wind pushed him around as his surroundings started to become less familiar. Did he get turned around? He swore he never changed the direction he was walking in. Did the wind slowly push him in another direction? His breath started to become more panicked but before he could take another step the floor fell beneath his feet. All at once he was falling into darkness, the wind and snow no longer anywhere to be seen or heard.

Absolutely silent.

When Y/n stopped falling he hit the ground with a groan. He didn’t know how long he was falling or even how he survived the fall. He slowly got up, his hands shaking a bit as he slowly took in his surroundings. Blue and purple surrounded him, stars littered the dark sky above him. Where was he and how was he going to get out? The hairs on the back of Y/n’s neck rose as he heard the faint sound of something making its way over. He quickly stood up, his legs and arms shook as he did so. He pushed through as he slowly ran away from whatever seemed to make its way over, not too keen on meeting the inhabitants of this strange land.

-

Y/n wasn’t sure how much time passed since he fell down here. Time seemed to move differently than it did back in Snezhnaya. Was he even in Teyvat anymore? He didn’t know. It felt like months he’s been here but his body didn’t seem to reflect that. He hadn’t felt hungry, thirsty, or tired since he fell, however long ago that was now.

The creatures that roamed this land were much different from the ones he saw up in Snezhnaya. They could use the elements without visions, or at least he didn’t think they had any. He never stayed around long or close enough to see any so as far as he was concerned they didn’t. He was determined to stay undetected as long as he could, not sure how long it would be before he could make it back to Snezhnaya, or if he even could. But sadly his presence was eventually found by the creatures and beings from this place. He ran and ran, seeking a place to hide and wait for them to stop searching for him. Y/n was even more cautious now, looking over his shoulder constantly. Scared what would happen if they happened to get their hands on him.

Oh god, his family. How long has it been? Did they think he was dead? lost to the snow, frozen somewhere? Attacked by some creature? His heart ached at the thought of what his family must be going through.

Y/n slowly curled up, trying to silent his sobs. He just wanted to go home. And as if Celestia heard his wish, he felt the cold wind of Snezhnaya blow against his back. Snow falling onto his head. He lifted his head, his tired eyes open to see the white snow that covered the land. A sob broke through him as he quickly got up but quickly froze when he heard the sound of snow crunching under someone’s feet.

-

Y/n was supposed to be home hours ago. Ajax looked at the clock, a pit formed in his stomach. Something was off. He got up from where he was sitting in the living room and walked to the front door. He grabbed his coat and left the house silently, not wanting to disturb his sleeping family.

The air was quiet as he made his way towards where Y/n was supposed to be with his friends. The farther Ajax walked, the pit in his stomach grew deeper. Something about the air seemed off. Seemed to set off warning bells in his head.

The abyss. It all came rushing back. Ajax hurried his steps, hoping what he feared was not true. That you were safe and sound. Just as his panic started to grow more, he saw a figure sitting in the snow. The familiar figure stopped all the thoughts in his head as he stopped and stared. He hesitated for just a moment before he started to rush in his brother’s direction.

Y/n flinched when Ajax got close, his heart breaking. The fear in his brother's eyes as they might. Ajax stopped in his tracks, his heart felt like it broke into a million pieces. Ajax slowly kneeled down and opened his arms, his brother only hesitating for a moment before throwing himself at Ajax. Y/n craved the touch of someone after being alone for so long. He sobbed into Ajax should as he shushed him.

“Shh, shh, it’s alright. I got you.” Ajax whispered into his brother's hair. Anger started to form in Ajax. Why did his brother have to go through this? What did he do to deserve falling into the abyss?

Ajax slowly stood up with his brother in his arms. Carry him like he did when Y/n was just a baby. He rubbed Y/n’s back in soothing motions as he slowly started to walk home.

“It’s okay, we’ll get through this.” Ajax whispered to him as they walked away from the pit in the ground, oozing with an evil that Ajax hated with all his heart.

Hello! I kinda forgot how to write while writing this… hope it’s not noticeable. I’m also trying to like my writing style and be happy with it and not just quitting when i’m not instantly in love with it :p. i also write this in one sitting… anywhooo i also set up a ko-fi but do not feel like you have to send anything!! my writing is completely free and for fun (as much fun as trying to write with writers block is). Im not to sure how the abyss works even after reading through the wiki so i probably got something wrong but who cares and im also behind in the main story quest…. i’m not actually sure if people reads these notes but sorry for any spelling/grammar mistakes.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #male reader #x reader #genshin impact x male reader #childe x male reader #childe x reader #childe genshin x reader #childe genshin impact #brother reader #brother!reader #x male reader #sibling!reader #sibling reader #ajax x reader #ajax x male reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x male reader

[max1461]

My first encounter with the broad concept of "people who want to live in the woods" came in the form of seeing people, online and in media, actually living in the woods, in one capacity or another.

As a teenager I watched Ray Mears' Bushcraft. It's a really good show that I would strongly recommend to just about anyone. Ray Mears (who in fact popularized the term "bushcraft") is a British wilderness survival/outdoorsmanship expert, and in Bushcraft he travels around the world, meeting with people who still practice some form of traditional subsistence-off-the-land, and documenting their knowledge and techniques. He shows traditional bushcraft in the Amazon, among aboriginal Australians, etc., and talks to the people who practice it about their way of life.

This show had a pretty big impact on me as a young person. I was already avidly interested in nature and the outdoors, and I had been intrigued by the concept of "wilderness survival" since watching Survivorman as a kid. There was something very appealing about the idea of placing oneself in nature with as few barriers as possible; getting to experience the natural world not just in a removed, "sightseeing" way, but in a real, engaged and "tactile" way. But what Mears presented added an additional layer of appeal: "wilderness survival" not as a chaotic fray to stay alive, but as a body of skills, refined over the centuries, which can be taught and learned. A mature art, something sophisticated and deep, in which one can become a practitioner. Something, in other words, a lot like mathematics, which I already knew that I liked, and a lot like language, which I had just recently become aware I was fascinated by. This inspired in me a much more lasting and serious interest in bushcraft. I began reading about it more seriously, and practicing as much of it as I could (not very much) in my parents' back yard.

I still count "becoming truly proficient in bushcraft" as one of my life goals, although I am not anywhere near that point yet.

A further point stressed by Ray Mears was that these traditional bushcraft techniques are a dying art. As people's lifestyles change, they are not getting passed on, and soon they may be lost. I want to stress here (because I'm on tumblr, where Big Ideas and Grand Narratives rule) that I have no desire to chastise people for living a different lifestyle than their grandparents! That's fine! I do not believe that, I don't know, the children of bushcraft experts should be forced by government decree to live in the woods or whatever. I have to make this clear, because "what should we force people to do by government decree?" seems often to be the only level at which tumblr discoursers are willing to think. What I am claiming is that this loss of knowledge is sad, it is unfortunate, and being that I and others (including most principally many of the practitioners) would not like to see these arts die out, it would be nice if they continued to be taught and learned and thereby passed on into posterity.

There need not be some kind of Decree! Maybe people just do some kind of outreach, as Mears himself did, and get more people interested in these things. Maybe, if you're an Amazonian guy or an aboriginal Australian guy, you do that outreach in a community-internal way, because your desire is principally to increase interest community-internally. I don't know; my whole point here is that I'm not really trying to get into the political dimension of this. That's not where my interests lie. Other than expressing a general sentiment that "bushcraft is cool and readers of my blog should think it's cool", I don't have any particular agenda here.

Anyway, this is the sum total of the context in which "people going out and doing shit in the woods" existed for me until just a few years ago. Then I came into the internet discoursosphere, around 2020, and I realized two things very quickly:

everyone was debating the relative merits of living in the woods

no one seemed to have any interest in or experience with anything even passingly related to living in the woods on a practical level, either first- or second-hand.

It was all, all this purely abstract, "theory"-based, grand narrativizing politico-philosophical debate. Nobody gave a shit about friction fire-lighting or shelter construction at an object level. Nobody gave a fucking shit!

This is a microcosm, and in fact not just a microcosm but perhaps the type case, of why I hate the discourse. The discourse is insistent on taking everything real in the world, everything that is (permit me to get a bit philosophical myself) vibrant and living and actual, and turning it into this dreary, sterile, empty word game. Are the Marxists the True Leftists or are the Anprims the True Leftists? Which one is it? I don't know and I don't care. Why is our interest in being in nature mediated by meaningless word game abstractions? Why must our interest in science or history be reduced to meaningless word game abstractions (shape rotator/wordcel discourse)? Why must our interest in, say, video games be reduced to meaningless word game abstractions (any of the thousand video game discourses)? Etc. etc.

It's actively, fucking, toxic to the idea of just being a person in the world. Everything you do has to be some symbol in a bullshit fucking symbol game. Worse, everything everybody else does becomes to you a symbol in a symbol game, even if they aren't playing.

I am dedicated to an alternate project. I want to be in the world and I want to be in it with others. In fact, I am so dedicated to this, that I can appreciate the reality of others' lived experience and actions even in spite of the symbol games they might be playing, even if I think these symbol games might be a little bit bullshit. This is a plainly virtuous way to be. This is the way I was raised to interact with people; it is parablized in various different ways, we're told (among other things) "everyone has a story", and "everyone is valuable in their own way", and so on. And these things may seem trite but they are true, they are obviously fucking true and many people in "discourse" have forgotten.

There are some anarchists who are really into urban community gardening. They're into it for various reasons. Some feel that it gives them autonomy over and knowledge of their own food in a way that buying things at the grocery store does not. That's fair, and kinda cool. If you're into that I support you. Some of them think that the whole economy could be replaced with urban community gardens. That's a bit silly. But I will come to these "silly" anarchists' defense every single time without question, because, fuck, they're doing something. I mean they're fucking doing something, ya know? They see meaning in this thing, and they're doing it, and that's cool! I would rather go to the overly idealistic anarchist community garden than the just-the-right-tendency Marxist reading group or whatever the fuck every single time.

Buncha "got lost in the world of symbols and forgot what they signify" mfers on this world wide web of ours istg.

#will probably delete later #this is too personal and pissy #but I'll put it out there for a moment and see what people think #wtf am I coming to dumping my guts on the internet like this I should certainly shut the fuck up

[allwaswell16]

All the One Direction fics I read and enjoyed in May 2024. You can listen to my podcast to hear me talk about each of these fics as well as an overview of what was posted on ao3 including the fics on this month’s fic roundup [ @1dmonthlyficroundup ] which you can find here! Please let the writers know if you liked the fics by leaving kudos and comments! Happy reading!

Fanfictional Podcast #62 |  ko-fi | fic recs

- Louis/Harry -

🍃 Ocean Wave Blues by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(M, 49k, pirates) After the gruesome death of his Alpha, Harry takes over as the Captain of the Rose Arrow. Trying his best to uphold her reputation as being the most dreadful pirate ship to sail the Seven Seas.

🍃 and so I have to say (before I go) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 27k, mystery) Sometimes falling in love is taking a leap of faith, jumping into the unknown with your eyes closed, hoping someone will be there to catch you. Sometimes falling in love is seeing the person in front of you, all their flaws and imperfections, and taking that leap nonetheless.

🍃 Room For One More Troubled Soul by patdkitten / @babyarcanacasey

(M, 25k, supernatural elements) Louis Tomlinson is the chief medical examiner of the Centre for the Law Enforcement of Supernatural Beings - more commonly referred to as simply "The Centre".

🍃 High heels on, 'm feeling alive by thebreadvan / @thebreadvansstuff

(M, 14k, uni) Harry damages a car when drunkenly stumbling home after a fun night out with his friends. Feeling horribly guilty, he tries to find the owner and make it up to him.

🍃 oh so familiar by @insightfulinsomniac

(E, 13k, witch Harry/vampire Louis) A story of misguided enemies to lovers brought together by a stubborn orange tabby.

🍃 I Dig Your Cinema by @silverstuff50

(E, 12k, exes) It wasn’t that Louis didn’t want to see Harry’s latest film; it was a tragically pathetic fact that Louis had watched every single show and film, every interview, every red carpet that Harry had done since his ex-boyfriend had decided to leave Uni in the second year and pursue an acting career.

🍃 Haze on the horizon by @lunarheslwt

(E, 6k, established relationship) Louis finds himself unexpectedly going into soft heat. Which would’ve been fine, except he is hundreds of miles away from his alpha, Harry, and he needs him. They make it work.

🍃 You're Already Home by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 5k, magical realism) It's Christmas Eve and Harry's life is normal. Then he finds someone's barred the door to his favourite hiding spot -- the old groundskeeper's cottage -- and suddenly Harry's life isn't normal anymore.

🍃 just a couple of my cravings by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf

(G, 3k, crush) Summer's just around the corner and Louis' battling his addictions... Cigarettes and Harry Styles.

🍃 I'm not that other guy by @jaerie

(E, 3k, omegaverse) Harry has just come back from maternity leave when he unexpectedly goes into heat. He runs into a coworker on his way out.

🍃 Change of Plans by @haztobegood

(G, 2k, omegaverse) Harry and Louis plan to visit their families over Christmas. Sometimes, plans don't work out.

🍃 Into the Woods by @kingsofeverything

(E, 2k, tree adjacent porn lol) Whenever he hikes, Harry keeps an eye out for trees with knots and scars that resemble buttholes. What started as fodder for his silly little Instagram account has become his favorite way to masturbate.

🍃 Lights Are So Bright by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird

(G, 2k, famous/famous) Newly first-string quarterback Louis Tomlinson mentions enough times in interviews that he's a fan of mega-famous popstar Harry Styles that people start to notice. At least one person does...

🍃 mosquito bites and cheap beer by @juliusschmidt

(M, 2k, exes-ish) Harry’s careful not to look at Louis as he plays. At least, he starts out that way. Part 2 of Cabin on the Bluff

🍃 Different Than You Do by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry

(T, 2k, love confession) Louis and Harry have been friends for a little over four years. Louis has been in love with Harry for most of those years, even if he didn’t want to admit it at first. What happens when he impulsively decides to tell him?

🍃 On Love's Doorstep by @hellolovers13

(T, 1k, neighbors) Harry Styles: a day in the life...Stuck in a dress, Abandoned by his best friend, Date with hot neighbour. All in all, not the worst day ever

🍃 My heart's in overdrive, and you're behind the steering wheel  by @louisthiccsexyglitteryass

(E, 1k, uni) Being late to class means Harry and Louis have to pose together for figure drawings. That being said, the hate each other, but maybe they don't?

🍃 Expresso by @reallynotmemoi

(NR, 880 words, uni) Louis falls in love at first sight with a boy from his Tuesday lectures, and proceeds to make a fool out of himself in front of said boy. But maybe not all is lost…

- Rare Pairs -

🍃 better latte than never by @disgruntledkittenface

(M, 1k, Zayn/Harry) Harry was looking forward to the coffee cart at work. Until the subject of the previous night's fantasies lined up next to him.

🍃 No Constraints by @lululawrence

(NR, 863 words, Louis/Greg James) Louis is really not understanding this particular section of his Vector Calculus course, and his tutor doesn't seem to get what Louis is having a hard time with. Until he does.

#28th appreciation #ficrec #1dficvillage #hljournal #hlcreators #1dsquad

[loserlvrss]

꒰ 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄 ꒱ 박성훈

summary : you and your boyfriend were too much alike in a lot of aspects, especially stubbornness

genre : angst, suggestive, sunghoon x afab!reader, drabble tws : language, suggestive content, arguments author notes : this ones for my wife xx word count : 0.6k

"sunghoon," your thumb and index finger pressed to the bridge of your nose in an attempt to ease the tension coursing through you, "you're not listening right now."

truthfully, neither one of you wanted to hear the other out — and that's resulted in an argument. one that seems like it won't fizzle out no matter how much the two of you raise your voice.

you both had too much pride to give the other the last word. you were too much alike; your friends and family only confirming your hard-headedness. but, you had to admit that he was pretty when he was mad.

"no, y/n," he laughed, humor twisted with frustration and disbelief, "you're not listening. i have to do this, it's not something i can just skip — believe me!"

you rolled your prettily-done eyes, which only furthered his annoyance, slumping into the wooden chair you paired with your pine table, "i don't care that you made other plans — we decided months ago. we have to go, sunghoon, we've already canceled... twice!"

"and now i'm saying that i can't go. you can go by yourself, can't you? it's not a big deal, is it?"

your mouth practically hit the floor at his audacity, "it is a big-fucking-deal, babe! i need you there, you know this!"

and despite being mad at each other, the love was still there. he drove you up a wall, but at the end of the day, there's no one else you'd rather have push your buttons. yes, it was a hostile environment right now, but it was bound to break; it always does.

"well, i can't go."

your head met your hand, elbow pressed to the table, "fuck," you were going around in circles, neither one willing to compromise, "sunghoon, how many times do i have to tell you that i don't care? you promised the last time we canceled that that would be the last time. so, you just lied to me?"

it seems like fuel to the fire was the only thing you both could throw at it, poisonous words with a twisted tongue, "oh my god, are you kidding me? you're really going to fucking hold that to me, baby?"

your eyes widened, hand hitting the wood with a smack, "well, when i promise you shit, i actually mean it. so, yeah, i'm going to hold it over your fucking head."

"we're getting nowhere." he stated the obvious, making you huff, "let's talk later."

he wasn't asking, but you honestly didn't have a care in the world for it; to you that was just as good as a suggestion. you got up, approaching him with a calm demeanor. you didn't want to back down, but you knew you'd be here for a lifetime if you didn't let the dust settle — even if only a little bit.

as you were passing, you mumbled out a defeated, "fine, hoon. do whatever you want."

you felt a firm grip on your wrist, him pulling so you'd face him again. and before you got the chance to angrily-question his intentions, his lips were pressed to yours, a firm, yet gentle, hold on your cheek.

you both felt the wire snap, your bodies relaxing into each other.

between alternating sides, he whispered a confession of love to you; reminding you that despite the attitude, he was made for you.

you pulled back momentarily, still prideful enough to not let him have the last word, "i'm still mad at you."

"you know i'll make it up to you, baby," he smiled, hoisting you onto the wooden surface carefully, and slotting between your parted knees, "i promise."

but he was just like you, wasn't he?

reblogs, likes and comments are greatly appreciated! thank u!

#kpop #kpop writing #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpopidol #kpop bg #romance #enhypen scenarios #enhypen #enha angst #enha #enha x reader #enha fluff #enha imagines #sunghoon #kpop requests #enha sunghoon #enhypen sunghoon #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #park sunghoon #park sunghoon smut #park sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon fluff #park sunghoon x you #park sunghoon angst #park sunghoon imagines #engene #enhypen suggestive

[hauntedpearl]

oh wait. chewing chewing chewing. none of this might make sense to you and I'm sorry but it makes sense to me. mmm. dean on the back porch. he's drinking coffee i think..his brother won't let him spike it. he's inside and he's talking to someone about something. there's a lot of words that have everything to do with what dean's been doing to himself over the past few months, and sam tries to talk quiet and fast, but dean hears him anyway because he's keyed up and also because he's attuned to Sam's movements like that, can't help it. anyway. he's sitting. on the back porch. and his brother won't let him spike his coffee. the view from the backyard is not anything to write home about. the house is in the middle of nowhere and the lawn slopes down a little into woods that crowd the edge of the property. he likes it here, even tho it's landlocked, and nothing like the house he dreams about with a lake and a pier and a little dinghy tied to it and a town not half a hand away, and friends and. well. it's still nice, tho. he's looking at the trees. it's almost time for sunset and they are tall, still things, old things, and it's comforting being around them.

but then the sky splits open.

and there's cas. (and jack. also. obviously.)

but there's cas! is the thing!

he doesn't know what it is, if he's fallen into a stupor of some kind, if he did manage to spike his coffee somehow and he's just forgotten, and considering how his life's been lately, he wouldn't be surprised if that really did happen.

still, his body moves before his mind stops spinning and he pulls cas into his arms. somewhere behind him, he's aware of the house and his brother and the coffee sinking into the porch steps that he'd rebuilt not a week ago. he thinks god, thank god, thank god. says, baby, sweetheart, I'm sorry. says, I didn't think I'd see you again. I don't know what the fuck happened, but I'll — I'll fix it all. I'll fix everything. I'll make it up to you.

he cups cas' cheek and thinks, here, this here is my second shot at this. I won't get out. i won't rock the boat this time. I won't let anything ruin this.

but then cas looks at him like he doesn't understand, like he's a little scared, and his eyes go round and glassy and he says dean? the way he's never said it before, not even in dean's head.

yeah? he says, and his mouth is dry, and there's a moment when cas tilts his head and frowns and dean swears he sees a star light up behind those ridiculous eyes.

oh, cas says, mouth parting in a sigh. and dean's gotta be going crazy because he's back where he's wanted to go ever since sam came to him, but everything feels wrong and his skin itches and the forest is still there, although dean is wishing the lake back with everything in him, and cas is stepping back from him. he's digging his fingers into dean's arms. he's shaking him, and dean feels it in his teeth, weak that he is in this body.

what did you do?! and cas sounds hysterical in a way that should not have been familiar to him, but is, because he's wretched, and he doesn't know how to not destroy the things he loves.

i — he says, and what excuse does he have really, for anything. i —

the door at his back clicks open, and the world comes back to dean, all in a breath.

this is not a dream and this really is cas and dean's touching him like he's allowed to. behind him, footsteps rushing, and the catch of breath.

christ, said in wonder. fucking christ. is it really you?

dean pulls his hands back like he's burned and steps away from the only person that's ever wanted him the way he's wanted them. he stumbles as he slips out of cas' grasp, disbelief, and terror, and worst of all, hope, making his skin buzz.

this is real, he says to himself. (but it couldn't be, could it? maybe he's lost sense of it, whatever real is supposed to he..and now. now cas is here. and he's...empty.) he turns his gaze to his hands, his hands, shaking, but his. they have to be his.

he hears more than feels the scrape of his brother's palm against his shirt.

hey, he says, and he's using that voice on him, the one he uses when he's talking to victims and widows and children that have too much fight in them for their own good. hey, dean, come on. hey.

from far away, he hears, what did he do? and let's just. let's just go inside, alright? we'll talk about it and oh, dean. and that's why I couldn't find you and dean's ears are ringing now, because what the fuck..

what the fuck.

someone leads him back up the wooden steps by his arm, and he kicks the fallen mug onto the grass. he looks behind him and sees the trenchcoat, and backwards tie, and windswept hair and tired, tired eyes and behind him, another face, one dean's tried to erase from his mind like a coward, now pinched and pitying, and dean cannot take it, feels like he's going to explode. (like a ripe melon on the sun.)

he frees himself of his brother's grip. turns to face cas again. it's me, cas says, before he can say anything. really me. and dean says, do you remember? was it you in there, too? and cas says, not all of it. not really. it's complicated. and dean looks at the face, and thinks about him the last time they were this close, and alone, and running from death and God, the way tears pooled in his eyes.

i hurt you, he says and cas presses his lips together. swallows. says, yes.

and dean says, and it was you.

and cas says, yes.

and dean steps back, breathing hard. says, god. god. says, I'm sorry. and cas' lips turn up on a corner, a small smile that is all sadness, like forgiveness sits in his lungs, all the time, like it is easy as breath. dean can't take that either. dean wishes cas would get mad, for once. wishes he would raise his fists like he used to, wishes he'd stick the right end of hsi blade in his heart, and let him sink into his lap.

but cas is cas, and cas is good, and dean cannot — should not — be here.

I'm sorry, he says again. turns on his heels and takes off.

~

he drives for a day and change, sleeps in his car under an overpass, until he ends up somewhere cold and by the ocean (idk where!!!) and he climbs up one of those cliffs and sits there watching the water like silk in the night, and letting the wind slice his skin, and trying not to let thought take form in his mind.

dean thinks he's barely calmed down when he hears the snap crackle of electricity and the beating of wings and cas appears at his side, his sleeves rolled up and his trenchcoat open and his knees under his chin.

dean doesn't know what to say to him. so he says nothing. an eternity later:

it isn't like that, cas says. i don't remember everything. i don't *know* everything. just...images. snippets. feelings.

dean clenches his eyes shut. then, broken, and wet, I couldn't stand it. I couldn't live with myself. I didn't know how to do it. without you.

and cas is silent. when he speaks, his voice is deeper, and cracking just a little, I didn't think. i didn't think you would care. so much.

and dean laughs, because why would he have thought that. what reason did dean give him to think that.

yeah, he says. yeah. no. I know.

cas' hand trembles when it lands on dean's shoulder. the same one that he's marred twice now.

tell me about it, cas says. the good stuff. the — the breakfasts and. and the holidays. the boat. fishing. he breathes, even though he's never needed to. leans towards dean, like he can't quite bear the weight of his own body. please. dean. tell me —

I loved you, dean says, abrupt. twists his torso, and cas is so close, he's practically breathing into his mouth. it comes out harsh, and strange and not at all like the soft thing that dean had been chasing through everything. he shakes his head. lifts a finger to touch cas' cheek. it feels real, so real. skin and stubble and warmth. he tries again, pressing his voice into the shape of his feelings. I loved you. and you loved me. that — that was it. for a while. that was the good part.

cas says nothing, and dean takes the moment to finally let his eyes wander up to his face. to finally look. the moonlight paints him in shadows, and dean folds his index finger under his thumb, lets himself trace the cut of his cheek with it. in the night, Cas' eyes are grey and blue and bright, and they sinks into his skin, rippling into soft folds. precious things, cushioned in lines and laughter and time.

cas' lips tremble. I forgive you, he says. for the bad part. for all the — for everything else.

dean can't help himself. he leans his forehead against Cas' presses his crooked nose into his cheek. lets his hand slip to the back of his neck.

you shouldn't.

is that what you want? cas asks. for me to be angry?

.

.

.

[the muses are breaking up with me. also it's 2 am and I have work tomorrow.]

but basically. sth sth. cas saying something along the lines of. im angry. im so angry. but it's like he's angry at dean for doing the things he was doing and he's angry that dean never told him how much he was keeping inside and he's angry that he's home and dean fled from him (godbless this man he's so stupid <3 he really said torture what) and he's like and i will be angry for the rest of my life if that's what you want but please. please come home with me.

and dean says. okay. and cas says okay?

and dean says okay.

love confession. kisses. etc.,

#doe is talking again #THIS IS SO UNNECESSARILY PROSE-Y FOR A POST #anyway. #possible ending for the evil love persevering au #girls this fic literally does not have the most important middle lmaooooooooo #fine it's whatever #destiel stuff #all this talking about resolving and not resolving things gave me a burst of inspo i think #bye bye my favourite wip i have 30-40.0 #pages of written notes about. #one day i hope to write you

[emhm]

Coffee? Please?

Let me preface this by saying; I am not disabled and this is not about 'urgent' vet bills.

[I have an outstanding debt to pay in that regard, but the monthly payment is small and the service was already done. It was the amputation for our kitten Lucky's dead front leg.]

I do have a job and the pay is too good to quit. I work 40 hours a week and I spend almost 13 more hours just driving to and from work because our boss 'can't find a work assignment closer to where I live.' Up until about two weeks ago my partner was also working 40 hours a week on an opposing shift. We were just starting to get on top of our crushing pile of monthly bills. Then she lost her work assignment [not her fault] and he couldn't find anything else for her to do. So she lost a whole weeks pay. He found her a place, but now she's only getting 24 hours a week instead of 40. And we were already struggling to pay for the bare essentials. I was hoping so hard to just have something left when the bills were paid. But my entire tax return was used to pay for overdue bills and it still wasn't all of them.

-We have not had a working washing machine since September. Almost all of my ancient towels have rotted and ripped apart from trying to hang dry them to avoid killing the dryer too.

-Our house does not have central heat or air so we've been freezing for months with no money to buy wood for the stove. [It's warmer now but still in the low 40s at night where I am.]

-We have been flushing the toilet with buckets of water for almost a year because hiring a plumber is not happening.

-For over a year we have been fighting the flea infestation caused by the deadbeat trash-pit roommate we had to force to move out. They're biting me as well as the cats and I'm allergic to them. So I constantly have a rash on my feet and ankles. We never have money for flea drops consistently enough to get rid of them and I do not have a working vacuum to get rid of the flea eggs in the carpet.

-I just had to take on $1200 worth of debt because my tires were bald from my ungodly commute and they told me the brakes need replacing very soon.

-Our youngest cat Lucky will need to be fixed soon because she's almost old enough to go into heat. [She's indoors only but I don't want to deal with the screaming.]

Our predatory mortgage payment is almost $2000 a month with all their shitty add-on fees. My car payment is $334. The internet is $87. The power is usually $125. Car insurance is about $115. Garbage is $65. Our car is shared and I go through 1 tank +1/4 tank of gas EVERY WEEK. I owe both Sunbit AND Carecredit. We're both estranged from abusive parents and have no other family to turn to in an emergency.

I can't ask for money for fanfic. I know that's unethical and illegal.

But I can tell you that I write better/faster/more when I'm not distracted by gut-wrenching despair, crippling anxiety attacks and the bone-deep fear of quickly losing my home because I'm always two missed paychecks away from disaster. I know pretty much everyone is in the same boat, and my problems aren't unique or special.

But anything helps.

I have several hundred dollars in overdue bills from last month and it's already time for the next month's to start arriving. I feel so hopeless and I don't know what else to do besides resorting to begging.

I just set up a Ko-fi account - https://ko-fi.com/followmeontumblr

My Paypal is attached to this old email address - [email protected]

I have an Etsy shop with some things for sale - https://www.etsy.com/shop/PatchworkLaboratory

I also have a Spoonflower shop with fabric featuring my designs. [I only make $1.50 per yard that people buy though.] - https://www.spoonflower.com/profiles/infamousdoctorf

And for anyone who was kind enough to read this whole thing- I do have some NSFW sketches I've drawn for "Eclipse Meets His Match" that I have nowhere safe to post. If you're bold enough to direct-message me with the line-

"I swear on all I hold holy that I am not a minor. Show me the art."

I'll let you see them. Thank you either way.

-Doc

#please help #eclipse meets his match #emhm #patchworklaboratory

[jjkamochoso]

Wedding Guest Plus One

Fluff

Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

When you get invited to a wedding, you're reluctant to show up by yourself. Luckily, you have a friend that would never leave you hanging...

Warnings: cussing, small mentions of background characters drinking alcohol

A/n: I hope the end isn't too ooc because I couldn't resist the opportunity to write that lol I hope you all enjoy reading this much as I did writing it!! <3

The strikingly opulent invitation was weighing down your hands like it was made of lead. The painstakingly crafted calligraphy was openly mocking you: "To our beloved Y/N and Guest..."

You sighed.

It wasn't like you didn't want to go to your friend's wedding, that wasn't it at all. The event sounded like it was going to be a wonderful time, filled with good food and fun moments as love was being celebrated. It was just that this would be another wedding you'd gone to without a boyfriend or husband. Your friends were mostly nonjudgemental but you knew your continuous bout of singularity over the years was rare enough to garner speculation and gossip from anyone in attendance at those types of gatherings, especially when everyone knew each other.

You hauled yourself out of your office, leaving the frilly paper discarded on your desk to be taunted by at a later time. You quickly made your way down the hall of the Survey Corps base, knocking on the familiar wood door in front of you.

"Come in," said a voice from the opposite side and you wasted no time entering, eager to begin your venting session.

"I see you got your invite as well," you said, spying the same white rectangle upon your best friend's desk.

"I did," Levi replied, his eyes not leaving the paperwork he was currently working on.

You picked it up, inspecting it, and you frowned. "Hey, yours doesn't say Levi and guest! Mine did."

"It said Levi and guest?"

"I hate you," you whined, Levi smirking a bit at his joke. "Mine said 'Y/n and guest' and I want to know why you got spared the embarrassment of being allowed a plus one but never having one."

"That's because everyone knows by now that if I'm showing up, I'm coming alone. They still have hope for you."

"Well, I don't like it," you mumbled, putting the invitation back down.

A few seconds of silence passed.

"Aren't you going to complain to me until my ears feel like they're going to bleed or are you actually going to be a grown up about this and leave me alone to do work?" Levi asked with an eyebrow raised at you.

You scoffed. "I thought friends were supposed to listen to each other rant about stupid shit."

"They are. But this is beyond stupid shit. Who cares if you don't have a partner? We're in the Scouts. Most people's partners are dead. Just lie about having a boyfriend who vanished at the mouth of a titan and people will leave you alone."

"But people at weddings are brutal! Someone's parents will just try to set me up with someone else while I'm there. You would understand if you bothered to go to one once in awhile."

"Weddings are stupid. A public proclamation of love is completely unnecessary." Levi brought his point home with an extra loud huff. "It's pompous and egotistical. I'd rather shit in my hands and clap than go to another one."

"I should've gone to Hange for advice," you said, rolling your eyes, "but they would probably just suggest bringing Bean or Sonny. Or Mike, who'd sniff everyone and get me blacklisted from any other event ever."

That got Levi to let out a small grunt of laughter.

"I really don't know what to do, Levi. It's stupid, I know, but I can't take going to another one alone. I want to be there to support our comrade but I don't want to look like a total loser."

“I’ll go with you,” he suggested as he continued signing papers, the words leaving his mouth like it was the most glaringly obvious idea in the entire world.

"What?" you exclaimed, your mouth hanging open in shock.

He finally looked up to meet your gaze. "Tch, close your mouth, you're going to catch flies. Don't look so shocked, either. Erwin was just telling me I have to go to more shitty events to boost morale amongst the soldiers and brass and you need someone to go with so you don't look lonely. We can hang out, bitch about how lame everything is, and go home. It's a win-win. Unless...?"

"No! That would be amazing," you replied quickly, not wanting to lose this opportunity, "thank you. I'm just taken aback, that's all, since a second ago you used a very crass saying to express your unwillingness to go. Are you sure you'd want to show up with me? People talk, you know. They might think we're dating."

"So? Let them."

Levi was right. You were going to get judged no matter if you brought a random guy, attended by yourself, or went with Levi. At least this way you'd have someone to talk with all night.

"Does this mean we get to coordinate outfits?"

Levi balled up a discarded piece of paper from his trash bin and threw it at you. "Don't make me regret this, brat. Now get back to work."

You left his office chuckling and feeling a newfound sense of relief wash over you.

When the day of the wedding finally arrived, you felt butterflies in your stomach, nervous for what was to come. You tried to keep your mind off the stress you were feeling as you got ready after work. It was a rare occasion to dress up in your civilian clothes as you were always in your formal military wear for galas or other professional events. You had second guessed your outfit all day but it was too late to buy something else so you got dressed and fixed up your hair. As you put the finishing touches on your look, you heard a knock at your door. When you opened it, you were definitely not expecting the sight you were greeted with.

"You're out of uniform."

You both spoke the same sentence at the same time.

"You really know how to keep people on their toes, don't you?" you asked, moving out of the way so he could come in.

"I was tired of wearing that damn thing all the time. This suit hasn't seen the light of day in a long time so I figured this would do instead."

The suit he had on made him look absolutely dashing, even more so than usual (which you didn't know was possible). He wore a gray collared buttoned shirt underneath a dark blue jacket with matching blue slacks and a brown belt. His cravat topped it all off, its stark white a nice contrast to the other colors.

"You look really nice," you complimented, your heart picking up speed as he raked his eyes over you.

"As do you," he replied, sincerity coating every syllable. He certainly wasn't wrong; your outfit hugged you in all the right places, accentuating your best assets. You opted for a silky black color for tonight since the wedding dress code asked for elegance. All of your previous fears about not looking okay were out of your head with the confirmation from Levi that you presented yourself nicely. You hadn't realized that you were lost in space, still enthralled in how handsome your best friend was until he finally cleared his throat, knocking you from your daydream.

"Huh? Oh sorry," you said sheepishly, "let me grab my shoes and we can get going."

The first shoe cooperated wholeheartedly but the second one was not wanting to work with you. You kept trying to buckle it but you were at a bit of an odd angle trying to balance yourself standing up while fiddling with the metal piece.

"May I?" Levi gestured to your foot. Frustrated, you nodded, grateful for his help. His nimble fingers made quick work of the buckle and you were ready to leave in no time. You two walked down to where carriages were lined up to take the wedding guests from the Survey Corps base to a town a few miles away. Once you got inside the palatial venue, you were welcomed with the sight of decorations everywhere. The whole building was grandiose but the paper swans, crystal beads, and plush seating arrangements did much to elevate the overall luxuriant atmosphere. You had never seen such a splendid display at any of the other weddings you had been to, but you were at the wedding of two high ranking military officials, after all.

"All this and our soldiers can barely get fresh fruit half the damn time," grumbled Levi, clearly not impressed. You were inclined to agree with him. The whole scene was gorgeous, but in the grand scheme of things, it left a bad taste in your mouth that so much money was spent on this when it could've gone to something more... tangible.

"I know, but there's nothing we can do about it. Let's just try to ignore it and hopefully charm our way into securing more money in our budget from some other mucky-mucks in attendance."

"Here I was thinking I could convince you to leave after the vows were done," Levi said, earning a glare from you.

"In your dreams. There's no way I'm leaving without dinner and dessert. I should've brought extra handkerchiefs to sneak out food like Sasha."

While you two were chatting it up, waiting for the bride to make her appearance, you were quickly garnering much interest from the other guests. People were totally caught off guard seeing you arrive with someone, much less a man, much less the actual Captain Levi. It shouldn't have been as big a deal as it was since you were also a well known captain and you and Levi normally stood by each other at military events you were forced to be at, but the casual air about the both of you at such a romantic occurrence was turning heads. You and Levi paid no mind, continuing talking like you were the only people in the room. Finally, you were saved from the incessant ogling by the music signaling the bride had arrived.

The vows were done, the lips were kissed, the couple was married. Now came the worst time of the night--the social part of the event had started. You and Levi, of course, sat next to each other for dinner but you were dismayed at the fact he was the only one you knew at the table. Hange and your other friends were seated elsewhere and you made a mental note to say hi before the end of the night, even if you were going to see them all tomorrow anyway. Everything was going smoothly, no one bothering you or your date. The food was as yummy as you expected and Levi was satisfied with the tea they offered with dessert. The night had almost ended and there weren't any weird instances you had to deal with.

Until now.

"Oh my goodness! Y/n! It's so good to see you!"

You were startled by the voice practically screeching in your ear as you were eating a large piece of cake. An old acquaintance of yours greeted you loudly, grabbing you into an awkward hug since you were seated and she was standing. She took a seat in the open chair next to you while you prayed Levi would come back from the bathroom soon.

"How are you?" she asked, a huge smile on her face. You knew she'd definitely been drinking heavily throughout the night, though she was normally this giddy all the time.

"I'm doing alright. You know, the same old, same old. Nothing crazy going on at work or anything, thankfully. How about you?"

She completely ignored everything you said. "So I came over to see what was up between you and Captain Levi."

Here we go, you thought to yourself, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

"What do you mean?"

Playing dumb was always a good idea in these types of interactions.

"You know," she pressed, taking another long sip of whatever was in her cup, "you and him. I thought it was odd that you usually come to these things alone and all of a sudden you show up with a hot guy like him as your date. How'd you manage that? Did you pay him?"

"We've been best friends for many years and decided to be each others' dates," you said, trying your hardest to remain civil.

"Right." She slumped back in her seat. "That makes a lot of sense. We all figured there was no way you were dating. You two are in completely different leagues."

That was your breaking point.

"Nice seeing you," you said, your chair screeching as you slid it back and walked away from her. You wanted to scream. Why was it so difficult for people to be decent? And who did she mean by "we all" ? Did everyone find your situation that much more interesting than the beautiful wedding taking place? Was it really so strange a notion that you and Levi could've been dating?

Why did it bother you that no one would believe it if you were?

You were practically tripping over your feet to get outside, away from the prying eyes and invasive questions. You made your way over to a secluded bench where you felt tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. A few finally fell, leaving dark splotches on the light stone beneath you. The longer you sat out there, by yourself with no one to bother you or make you question your worth, the more you felt at ease. The brisk night air enveloped you like a blanket and the darkness did wonders to calm your racing thoughts. However, there was just one thought that wouldn't quit nagging you. You and Levi had been best friends for countless years and you had been content with the state of your friendship for all that time. Ever since he offered to be your date for this wedding, though, you'd started viewing him in a more romantic lens. Taking note of his appearance, feeling your heart speed up when he was close to you, getting lost in his eyes a little too long. You'd developed a crush on him but were much too nervous to mention such a silly, trivial thing to him, especially in fear of ruining the bond you shared. Now that someone pointed out the obvious, that you and him don't belong together, your harmless daydreams of him being your lover came crashing down and brought you back to reality. The reality was that Levi could never be yours, no matter how much you so desperately wanted him. It was a sad realization to have on a day that was supposed to be all about celebrating everlasting love, but such is life. You were torn out of your personal pity party when you heard the crunch of leaves underfoot.

"Here," Levi said, handing you your plate with your half eaten cake on it. "It worried me when I saw you abandoned dessert."

He wore an unreadable expression as you took it gratefully, patting the spot next to you as an invitation for him to sit with you.

"I'm sorry for bailing on you," you apologized, nibbling on your fork, "but there was this lady in there that I just-"

"I know," he said, keeping his eyes trained on the sky. "I heard the whole thing."

"Oh."

The void of silence left between you was a gap you were both unsure how to fill, so you didn't. The only thing heard for a few minutes was the faraway sound of laughter and the clinking of your silverware against the porcelain plate.

"She's wrong, you know. They all are," Levi said suddenly, making you jump a bit. You didn't say anything, discarding your empty plate on the ground next to you.

"There's some truly shitty people in this world."

"You got that right," you replied, your eyes moistening again as your mind replayed the mean words you were subjected to earlier.

Levi turned to you. "Don't do that. I know you, y/n, don't sit here and think about what she said over and over. It doesn't matter. She doesn't matter."

"Easy for you to say. You didn't just get your self esteem ripped to shreds." You sniffed and angrily wiped away a tear that streamed down your face as you kept your eyes anywhere but on Levi.

"Look at me."

He spoke with such conviction that you felt compelled to do as he said. Without hesitation, he reached out and wiped away the wet that was accumulating on your cheeks with his thumb. You knew Levi wasn't a fan of physical affection, so why was he being so loving toward you all of a sudden?

"I would go to a hundred of these shitty weddings if you were there by my side because you make them less shitty. You make everything less shitty. I just... fuck, I'm not good with words, but what I mean is that I would do things I hate doing if it meant we could do them together."

You had known Levi long enough to be certain that he was currently expressing his feelings for you in his own roundabout way. Though the confession was a huge surprise, it certainly wasn't unwelcome.

You finally cracked a small smile. "You make my life a lot less shitty too, Levi. I'd even suffer through the entirety of those horrendous galas the MPs throw all too often if I had you next to me."

You reached out your hand to find his and gave it a small squeeze. "Let's get out of here. I'd rather shit in my hands and clap than hang around these people any longer."

Levi was proud that his saying had already made it into your lexicon. You stood up, ready to make your exit. Before you went too far out of earshot, he stopped you.

"Want to give them one last thing to talk about?"

You didn't understand what he meant until you followed his gaze, landing on the group of guests that were currently not-so-secretly spying on you.

"Sure, I guess-"

Levi expertly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless. If he didn't have such a steady grip on your body, you would've immediately melted onto the ground in a state of stupor. You heard startled gasps as people clamored about, anxious to spread the news of the two captains kissing.

"Should we flash them the ol' royal salute for being creeps?" Levi muttered against your lips.

"We'll save that for next time," you said, enveloping his lips in yours once more.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #levi x reader #levi ackerman x you #levi fluff #levi aot #snk x reader #snk fanfiction #snk levi #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #captain levi #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi x reader fluff #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman x y/n #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi ackerman fluff

[kellycataclysm]

How does harvey seduce lyra? What's his favourite way to bang her?

Okay so this was absolutely the most fun to write.

Here’s a little list of all the things he has in his repertoire, other than simply existing, with a few bonus head canons and thoughts thrown in. 

Setting the Scene. Lyra’s Harvey is romantic, polite, gentlemanly. The cliches work. He’d light candles, play soft music, bring her flowers, slow dance, watch the stars with her, open the door for her. Some may see this as old-fashioned, he just sees this as being sweet and attentive to the person he loves the most.

Words - Part One. Flirty banter. They’re smart dorks. The words are part of the attraction. Bonus points if there are bad jokes, puns, nerd chatter. 

Visual stimulus. Harvey will catch her eye with cliches that he knows work for her. The tie loosened, the rolled up shirt sleeves, a little peek of that chest hair, a spark in his eye from behind those glasses, and Lyra is FLUSTERED. Plus, he likes to look smart, even when he’s casual Harvey. So, if they’re out on a date you can be sure he’s looking smart and that moustache will be perfect.

Eye contact. The way he looks at her, like he’s still trying to figure her out but, goodness me, if he wasn’t entirely smitten from the second she walked into the clinic and awkwardly asked him for a neighbourly coffee. Plus, you can be sure he's going to do the finger hook under the chin for this, which leads to...

Physical touch - Part One. Harvey is all about the gentle caresses; he’ll hold her hand intertwining their fingers, touch her waist or the small of her back, brush her hair behind her ear, his fingertip lingering on those star earrings Lyra wears. The man is straight up handsy, especially first thing in the morning when they have just woken up.

Words - Part Two. Harvey has no problem telling Lyra that he loves her and saying things he knows will make her melt. We also know that she loves his voice. Deep, calm, firm but gentle. He’s well-spoken and to be honest, she’d listen to him read the phone book. 

Physical presence. Our man is tall in a way that makes her giggle and twirl her hair and he will use this to his advantage. He is 6'4. She is 5'3.

Slow. Sure, he’s ready to rock and roll with little more than a suggestive look from Lyra, because when he knows that she wants him, that definitely gets him going. However, Harvey loves to take his sweet time, setting the mood, making her feel like she is the only person on the planet for him, completely worshipping her. Then let’s also acknowledge that once he gets started, he is a massive tease. Yes, there are plenty of moments in which my spicy dorks are positively desperate for each other, but he loves to hear her begging for him.

Control. He’s bossy in the bedroom and she gets the full benefit of this. Making her feel good does it for him.

Physical touch - Part Two. Harvey really does have lovely hands and he knows exactly how to use them. You can guarantee she is getting off more than once. Don't look at me. I don't make the rules.

Words - Part Three. He loves to whisper things in her ear. Our girl has a HUGE praise kink and he knows this. He also loves to talk dirty to her. If the man drops an F Bomb in the heat of the moment, she will straight up dissolve. Readers may also have noticed that he only ever calls her Lyra when they are in adult situations. It is like she is in trouble. The best kind of trouble. 

By this point, Lyra is a mess and absolute putty in his hands. He can do absolutely anything he wants to her and whatever he chooses will make her feel incredible. (Okay, did someone say soft dom Harvey?)

So, his favourite position. Lyra’s Harvey isn’t afraid to be a little adventurous. There was the time with the mirror. The video call when he was away. The time in the woods. The other time she made him watch. The time of Harvey’s birthday in which there were many interesting things explored. Plus, you just know the desk in his office has seen more than just paperwork. He is also happy to try new positions. However, while he isn’t averse to bending her over the armchair, his favourite are the more intimate positions. The ones where he can hold her close (the man loves to spoon) and where he can look into her eyes and kiss her senseless. So, while he absolutely loves to pin her against a wall or have her on top of him so he can ogle her, his favourite and most frequently used is missionary. He’s in love with her and wants to watch as she falls apart for him, because of him. 

Thank you so much for sending this positively delightful question! It was so fun to answer! <3

#stardew valley #stardew harvey #sdv harvey #stardew valley harvey #harvey sdv #sdv #stardew stardust #harvey stardew valley #stardew farmer #sdv farmer #stardew lyra #lyra and harvey #stardust and harvey #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley headcanons #headcanon

[erose-this-name]

Paganism held a lot more social roles than monotheism ever can.

The priesthoods of each God's cults often acted as like-minded communities for certain Queer/neurodivergent people.

Transfem? Joining the all eunuch priesthood of Cybele was a great excuse to rid yourself of testosterone and wear makeup and woman's clothing.

Gay? No one cares, that's not a sin in most pagan religions, it's not even taboo. But, you'll never beat Apollo's record of tragic ex-boyfriends or be more of a twink than Dionysus. No one can out-gay the gods! Pagan myth has a lot of good roll models actually, did you know that myth-accurate Loki is a gender fluid shape shifter and has gotten pregnant multiple times??? He's not really "evil", either, just a lovable scamp who accidentally and causes Ragnarok in a horrible prank gone wrong

Lesbian / asexual? Become a Vestel virgin, now it's literally illegal for men to have sex with you! (Sadly not as easy to be openly lesbian back then as gay, but Sappho pulled it off)

Butch? Join the cult of Artemis, it has the same perk as previous except you can also go hunting and "act the bear" and shit. (I'd imagine these convents of "virgin" women probably had a lot of secret yuri going on)

Intersex? Um, you are literally the physical embodiment of Hermaphroditus and are sacred and also probably magic.

Schizophrenic? Those aren't 'hallucinations', you've been blessed by Apollo with the ability to see the future and talk to dead people! People will pay you to tell them whatever and they'll just believe it and get closure!

Autistic? Hyperfixate on mythology and/or history, being a walking encyclopedia is actually extremely useful for being a storyteller / oral historian.

Don't like civilization? Join the cult of Pan, god of wildness and nature, all his shrines are out in the middle of the woods somewhere.

Just wanna fuckin' get really drunk and high? The cult of Dionysus throws the best parties, talk to them.

You don't need to justify any of these alternative lifestyles to allo cis hetero neurotypicals if you can just threaten divine retribution if they try to fuck with you. (Granted, the fact you have to give up any other career options still sucks, but it's something. It still helps to normalize it.)

In a lot of cases, this benefited everyone because all these different cults were uniquely able to fulfill different social roles because they didn't have to suppress their diversity.

Nearly all of these kinds of communities and social roles are gone under Abrahamic faiths. Now neurodivergence and transness are fuckin' "demonic possessions". Being gay is sin. I guess if you want an excuse to not have sex you can still be a monk or a nun??

#history #spilled thoughts #lgbtq #gay #trans #lesbian #autism #lgbt #transgender #anthropology #intersex

[drdemonprince]

all the recent talk about not voting has me a bit worried, for lack of a better word.

on one hand, yes so much yes, stop throwing all your time and energy in the insatiable maw of electoral politics, 5/5, no notes.

but on the other hand, where does that time and energy go then? despite lots of talk about mutual aid it doesn't seem to progress much beyond the abstract (at least in the various leftist groups/communities/etc. in my neck of the woods). it's held up as an ideal and great big important thing, but when there's shit that needs doing, it's *crickets*.

maybe it's because so much mutual aid is care work and thus, and i very much disagree with even though i care not for the label, not real activism i guess? like, a while ago a disabled comrade had ran into housing issues because of their illness, so we rustled up some folks to help clean and unfuck their home. which, yet again, were the same (also disabled) people that always show for those things.

coming of four years and counting of pandemic, that's been a consistent pattern. at a time where mutual aid was so needed, such a vacuum left by a state that didn't and/or wanted to do shit, it still fell on the shoulders of disabled people to do all the actual work while the rest just talked about abstract shit. or, to name another thing, diy hrt initiative where it's just a bunch of poor ass trans people scrounging up money to pay for supplies for trans people who have fuck all access, while the rest debates in the abstract about a more better system or whether it's even something they need to concern themselves about.

and like, yes, not pissing away your energy pleading with assholes who don't give a fuck about you is good, but it should only be the start. it sometimes feels like the big plan is: 1) not vote, 2) ???, 3) glorious anarchism/communism/mutual-aidism. i'm not arguing that they need to have it all worked out, but with so much shit that needs doing in the here and now i get a little worried. because that's going to take real work, not talk, and they're not putting in any of it.

I mean, most people won't do (what gets viewed as) "real activism" either. They don't go to protests, smash windows, call jails to check on the status of incarcerated people, cut supply lines, or anything else. And they don't vote either.

We live in a highly individualistic, atomized society filled with people who have been conditioned into an abiding self-interested apathy, and everyone is overworked and broke as shit and juggling a bunch of disabilities while not having any experience with building genuine community and lacking most of the infrastructural and social tools to do so. The number of people who are avowed leftists is vanishingly small, and among them the people who actually walk the talk or have the education and community ties to even be able to is even smaller. Not disagreeing with your read of the situations you're dealing with here, just putting them within the broader context of many very similar problems that I see touch every single aspect of organizing today. even like the most tepid liberal get out the vote kind of organizing is plagued by this, and of course that is by design.

What gives me hope in the present moment is just how many people are completely fucking done with the prevailing system, and how many are refusing to play along with its rules. A lot of the people who aren't voting are not leftists. At least not yet. Just like many of the people who are quiet quitting and half-assing it at work or just vibing on unemployment for as long as they can are not communists. But they do know that the system is bunk and is failing them, and they are refusing to be compliant within it any longer. I believe that a lot of people's better natures do get inspired during a moment of collapse. I also think there is a profound rot at the heart of settler-colonial states that fills them with people who do not recognize themselves as having any responsibility to others. That's all the more reason for such an empire to fall.

I think you're right to worry for the future, though I don't think the reason to be worried is as simple as people not people caring about disabled folks, or any other group. I always wonder who the mythical abled people are who are abnegating their duty in such an understanding of the world. I sure haven't met any of them. I only meet people who are also disabled and don't realize it.

[jacksprostate]

Tyler always liked to pull shit at night. Maybe that's why I went along with it, when he showed up after a month of leaving Paper Street and all its monkeys and me without an owner. Tyler always liked to pull shit at night, so I had become habituated, and when Tyler showed up on a sunny afternoon Sunday with a pickaxe slung long over his shoulder, I didn't interrogate him on where he'd been. Why he left. I didn't want to break the perfect image of his return, and if I'm honest, asking what we were going to be doing as he led me out of the house never crossed my mind.

I usually didn't ask Tyler why we were going to do anything, so maybe that was habituated into me, too.

The reason Tyler came back, I found out, was to tell me I was hopeless. That I was a piece of shit, that I'd never amount to anything, that he had the lowest of expectations and I still couldn't pass muster. He said this as we walked. The voice of my father, all the shit he never outright said.

I told Tyler, What did you expect? You left me.

Maybe I whined it, I don't know. I didn't know what he wanted from me. I still don't.

Tyler said, "I leave for one moment, push baby out the nest, and you crumple. You're a plucked stool-looking pigeon splat on city concrete. You're the roadkill you see on the side of the road, so useless even the vultures ignore you. You regressed."

Where are we going, Tyler? I asked. We were down the road by then, far enough that the space monkeys maintaining the front lawn couldn't see or hear us. I guess Tyler respected me enough to make my discipline private.

Tyler ignored me, as usual, and continued. "I give you one chance to do anything on your own, and you do nothing. You go to work. You go to fight club like it's work, like it's one of your pointless little groups. Like it's hospice. You're so dependent you hang on your own men hoping they'll tell you what to do. I come back and you're wasting away reading Reader's Digest as all the shit I've built for you works its wonders, and you don't even try to join in directing it."

Now, You didn't give me orders, I said. You didn't tell me my part in this, what was I supposed to do?

Tyler rolled his eyes.

"Do you think you're too good for it? You need your own hand delivered invitation?"

No, I said. Spluttering.

"You had your invitation to join. All you needed to do was anything."

Now here we are. In the middle of the street. If I knew I'd failed all his little tests, maybe I would've said no when he showed back up. I want to laugh at the idea of it, but I'm too busy trying to figure out what my punishment will be.

Tyler lets the pickaxe fall. The noise it makes hitting the asphalt clatters between the warehouses. We're past the paper mill now, and the scent of wood shavings and cancer and ass has been replaced by rot and puke. Off of Paper Street lives a processing plant for all the unloved rejects of the supermarket. Recalled, expired, unneeded. Working a place like this, you lose your sense of smell in days. The hairs in your nose fall out and your tongue turns black. Eggs three months old. Fruit like black leather. Baked goods more mold than wheat. They grind it up and feed it down the drains. Sometimes, when there's a storm so big it floods the entire basement, noxious sludge escapes the toilet and sinks at the house. All the colors of the rainbow, consistency somewhere between cottage cheese and blended rotten meat.

For a moment, I stare transfixed as Tyler rolls his shoulders, sweat glistening on them like the first day I ever saw him.

He says, "Take a step back."

I do.

Tyler flips the pickaxe point-down, leverages it into a hole on the manhole cover I'd been standing on, and pulls it out and to the side in one smooth move. Fight club has always been better than the gym.

Looking down, the stench makes the air wave like heat. There's a rusted ladder half broken on the side of the hole. About eight feet down lies everything which should be getting shipped to a biodigester, couched in human shit and vomit and whatever else the processing plant produces.

Suddenly, I realize the disease that's everywhere now may be the least of my concerns. Tyler's hand is on my shoulder.

Tyler says, "Consider it a more direct test of faith."

When Tyler pushes me, it's not that I didn't know it was going to happen. I did. As soon as he opened up the manhole, I knew what was going to happen. I didn't run. I knew I couldn't. I braced myself and fell flat over the hole, and I felt what had to be one of my vertebrae crack. I felt the road eat at my arms and face.

"You think you're shit, you want to rot away," Tyler says. He circles me. I reach out to crawl away, he steps on my hand. "Fine. Rot with everything else."

He kicks at my side. My kidneys. My stomach. My ribs. I'm curling in on myself before I know it, my spine is screaming. I am screaming. I'm curling up, fetal, drooping into oppressive warmth. Back to the womb.

A moment of vertigo, and I've fallen out of the nest for real. Baby bird, splat in the sewers.

I am filth.

I can feel chunks between my fingers.

I fell, and the top of my head ricocheted. I'm used to it ringing. My blood drips in my hair along with something else.

A film is crawling over me. It's hard to breathe. The air hurts. I'm retching, I'm contributing.

I look up, and Tyler is there. Total eclipse of the sun.

He says, "Crawl out yourself. I'm done fixing things for you."

I can't see his face. I'm getting every disease on the planet, and it's a warm sunny day.

He says, "You have all the chances. It's about time you take them."

#fight club #my writing #Tyler is sick of this guy's shit yk