#my brain cannot comprehend what is in the bowl

[teojira]

[Sweetheart] [Noa x reader drabble]

Summary: Noa comes to you and asks what a specific nickname means, one that he found in a book

Word count: 850+

Warnings: Noa having feelings for reader and he's once again fighting for his life.

A/N: this SUCKS but it's been in my notes app for far too long and it's almost 1k words that I cannot scrap, this is a weak piece but nonetheless, I hope someone enjoys it!

Noa has been introduced to the term "sweetheart" when digging through some of Raka's stash of books the orangutan had left behind. The Ape had decided to take a trip back to where he first met him to see if there has been more to learn from his late companion. And to this surprise, there was.

Many more books that Raka has deemed fit to be left behind. It was a good thing in hindsight, Noa figured. He could ask you about the words and their meaning, for you to teach him how to read it and comprehend.

The first book he has popped open seemed to be a picture book with very few words, like the one he has seen at the human base.

There were two echoes dancing around one another, seemingingly lost in one another's gaze from what the Eagle clan leader could tell.

'You are my sweetheart.' The script said, interesting. Tucking it into his woven bag, Noa mounted his horse to head back home.

"Echo." Noa murmured, walking slowly from behind you.

You looked peaceful, the orange glow from the fire lighting up your features as you rested, a bowl of berries sat on top of your thighs.

"Welcome home, Noa." The smile you sent him was enough to make the ape trip over nothing. It was embarrassing. It made him feel like a child all over again.

After correcting himself, he eased himself down to your level, crouching to meet you.

"Need your help." Signing with one hand, moving to grab the book from the sling it was fastened in.

Your body subconsciously leans into his space, something you were usually mindful about. But he has been gone for a few days, leaving by himself along with Eagle sun and his horse.

"Why can't I come?" Huffing, you're staring at the back of Noa's head, trying your best to not let the anxiety of him leaving overtake you.

"Too far, might be dangerous." Noa shook his head, moving to strap his spear onto the horse's saddle. He knew if he turned around and looked at you, he'd cave and bring you with.

Don't turn around. Don't turn around. Don't turn. He can't take you, he can't.

The warm hand on his back is enough to make a shudder, his shoulders tense as your small hand ever so gently pats at the fur there.

"...be safe." Your voice sounds small, and only then does he turn to you, taking you in.

"I will."

It was weird being without him, you've grown so used to him being by your side.

You managed just fine despite what your brain would have you believe. You had taken on helping with the eagles in Noa's stead. Feeding, watering, making sure they come to roost at night and securing them.

It did little to keep your mind off of Noa, though. Just making you miss the chimp all the more.

If He had any issue with you in his personal space, it wasn't apparent, letting you cozy up to him.

Leaning a bit further, you peer at what's in his hands.

"Oh! You found a book?"

He hums at you, delicately cracking the small book open, careful with its worn pages to flip to the end where he found the weird name.

"What does-" He points a finger down at the word. "Sweet heart. Mean?"

"It's just an expression, a nickname." Picking up a berry to toss it in your mouth, chewing softly as you watch Noa compute your words.

"...nick..name?" He stutters over the word, raising an eye bridge.

"It's way to call your loved ones a special name. Sweetheart is one of them."

'Do you like it, being called that?' He signs, turning his body to you, taking in just how pretty you look in the fading sunlight, his eyes trained on your lips.

"Well, no one's ever called me any before, so I don't know."

You seem embarrassed, your body immediately going into defensive mode as you curl up.

Noa can change that, he thinks.

You don't think anything of that conversation after a few days past, figuring it was just another one of Noa's questioning about humans.

It isn't until you're grooming the horses, scrubbing at their coat, and ensuring that they're clean that it gets brought up again.

"Sweetheart!" A loud voice all too familiar calls out, making you jump out of your skin and drop the brush in your hands.

Whirling around, you see that it's the Eagle Clan leader himself, making his way towards you with a smile on his lips, his bright eyes trained on yours and he has a extra carrier around his shoulder, no doubt for you.

"Noa?" You're trying your best to fight off the blush that rushes to your cheeks, but it's useless. Hopefully, he thinks it's due to the heat that you're flustered, god willing.

This begins Noa's continuous use of the term. It replaces him calling your name at this point.

Sweetheart this, sweetheart that, for anything you do together, he makes sure to slip it in, loving how you react to it, that you immediately answer to him.

Anaya once tries to call you the nickname, knowing full well that Noa is flirting with you the best way he has learned how but gets shut down instantaneously, Noa playfully putting him in a headlock, huffing as he shakes his best friend.

"My Echo. Mine. Not. Yours."

[thegoldenreport]

DEEP BLUE

Sunny Driver works for the government.

Legally, that is all we can say about the nature of her job. But everything contained within this article is common knowledge anyway. Hiding it would be a disservice to the cause. We’re going speak about it openly. 

Anomalies exist. There are people tasked with discovering and containing said anomalies. Sunny is one of those people.

She came to us with a story regarding her work and the sudden appearance of lake.

…

Belcot is the picture of modern suburbia, if you’ve never been. Rows of copycat houses and the odd tree every thirty feet. Asphalt roads connect you everywhere, whether to your neighbor’s house or the grocery store or the family-owned bowling alley. There isn’t much room for nature to just…do it’s thing.

I got the call around 2:43 pm on a Thursday. Just finished up lunch at Riley’s and was getting situated in my car. Something bout a secret lake appearing smack dab in the middle of town. I immediately wondered about pocket dimensions or parallel realities. How much was disrupted? Had anyone been displaced? Either way it wasn’t something you mess with.

So I rushed to the location pinged on my phone. Paved road turned to dirt as I drove through thick trees. And soon, I passed a neat little sign, carved in stone.

WELCOME TO TUNNEL LAKE

I pulled into the parking lot and walked along the wooden fence to a sandy path. And at the end, there I saw it. That enigma of a lake. Calm. Pristine. A brilliant cerulean so blue it almost looked fake. And in the middle, a small cone shaped island blanketed in lime green moss. 

The scene in sunlight made my eyes hurt. I blinked twice to readjust. That’s when I noticed a pair at the water’s edge. A mother and her daughter minutely inspecting their canoe. A long, skinny thing mostly made out of metal. The silver sheen worn to dull gray. But from my viewpoint, looked sturdy enough.

I went up to them. Introduced myself. Asked them if they knew this lake was anomalous, possibly (probably) dangerous.

The daughter had a blank stare, which bore into me. The mother quickly filled the gap in conversation. She questioned whether their boat could withstand the depths of the expanse. Would it be to small and among other things, would they find favor in the courts of Ival-Frike?

I smiled.

This kind of word salad is not uncommon among displaced folk. The brain can’t process the eco-shift and thus, will vomit bits of disconnected input received. I tried to be calm. I asked for more information. I tried to help them understand where they ended up.

But she was different. She was rigid in her convictions

The mother stepped in front of her daughter, arms stretched out. She said I’d interrupted her neuroplasmic field. I again asked her what that was supposed to mean. She pointed to the device I held in a holster around my left thigh. It reads the grade of anomalies. It was beeping incessantly. The daughter continued to stare. In fact, had not spoken a word this whole time.

The mother declared there was no time left to worry about their boat. They would go on foot. They walked directly into the lake and the lake swallowed them whole. I tried to stop them. They sank like rocks. I couldn’t see them through the deep, dark expanse of blue.

While I sat there transfixed by water, another car drove up. A family van. The mom poked her head out the car window and called out to me “Hey! Is this Tunnel Lake?”

Nothing is more dangerous than treating an anomaly as benign. It’s like feeding the monster. You’ll see it’s weird power grow beyond your ability to contain. Beyond your ability to comprehend. You should never do it. Ever.

But sometimes…

It’s already too much. It’s already taken root.

And the bad, bad words pour out your mouth. Words like:

“Yeah! Come on in, the water’s great.”

…

Tunnel Lake is a Class R-grade 9.758 anomaly. For your own safety, we cannot recommend visitation. Unless, of course, you are looking to disappear. 

There’s been plenty of those as of late. 

[old-hyper-super-clover]

For the requests‚ what about a family trip to the beach with Purgatory Hall + the royals and MC? Like Simeon and Barbatos setting up a picnic table meanwhile MC and Luke play around in the sand searching for shiny or strange things to building a sand castle (everything also keeping Solomon and Diavolo far from the preparations for the picnic)‚ playing with water guns or swimming. And after eating maybe playing a match of volleyball sand, admiring the sunset till it's nigth time and before going back‚ playing with fireworks, do a little stargazing or something--

Feel free to ignore this and thanks in advance anyway~

FINALLY I've come to write something for this lovely request. It's packed with so many fun ideas that I kinda went overboard with it xD this means the story is so big I'll have to split it into two posts!

To Bisshitu: I wanted to thank you for your continuous support! I see you in my notifs a lot and I really appreciate it!! (ALSO I AM SO SORRY YOU'VE WAITED SO LONG I HOPE YOU WILL STILL ENJOY THIS CHAOS)

Literally just 13 idiots on a beach trip~

Part 1

MC was leaning against one of the walls in the giant entrance halls of the House of Lamentation. Standing next to them, Solomon handed MC an opened bag of spicy newt chips. "Want some?" He asked and MC gladly took a few while constantly watching the commotion that was going on in the rest of the hallway.

Who would've guessed that going on a vacation with the seven rulers of hell would involve the most panicked, loud and chaotic packing of bags to have ever existed?

Well, let's be real, MC did expect it, but maybe not to the degree that they were in amusement about now.

The oldest brother had called the others for a "luggage check" as he had been sceptical of his brothers' talents in packing reasonable items in an, likewise reasonable, amount of suitcases and bags.

And of course, the first one to show up had to present his luggage in the form of... nothing.

Yes, Beelzebub came up to Lucifer, only the remains of a sandwich in his hand (which didn't last longer than three more seconds), confused when Lucifer mustered him with an angered glance.

"Where's your luggage?" Lucifer asked, to which Beel only gave a shrug.

"We're going to the beach, right? Which means I'll only need my swimming trunks, and I wear those underneath my pants."

Now the confusion has wandered over to rest on Lucifer's face. "But... Won't you need clothes to change into, or at least pyjamas for the night?"

"Hm..." Beel scratched the back of his head while thinking about Lucifer's words. "Nah, I don't need those. I'm planning to stay at the beach all the time, so..." Then suddenly, he gasped as he remembered something. "Wait, I do have something else prepared to bring along!"

Beel reached into his pocket, and when he pulled out a hand-written list that unrolled itself, plonking onto the carpet and rolling all the way to Lucifer's feet, the avatar of Pride knew exactly what said list was going to be.

"There are a few food stands that I'd like to try out..." Beel announced, eyeing the paper. "First of all, there's one selling shaved ice, which I want to compare to the ice-cream from this other stand, but who's also selling parfaits of which I kind of want to try all twenty-five flavours... Also then there's of course-"

"Beel" Lucifer interrupted the avatar of Gluttony in a strict tone. "Go pack a proper bag."

"But-"

"Now."

Letting out a sigh, Lucifer watched as Beel left.

But little did he know, this had only been the beginning of the chaos...

Moments later, Lucifer has found himself explaining to Satan why taking 70 different books with him would be ridiculously much. Also Mammon had taken this opportunity to "lend" some of his brothers possessions, arguing that he "needed those for the beach". This had worked until his swift fingers touched Levi's limited edition Ruri-chan sunscreen.

So, as Lucifer was spam-calling Belphie to wake him up and finally have him start packing, a sudden argument could be heard from upstairs:

"... How dare you steal my precious Hana Ruri 'magical sun ray protective lotion for all blooming heroes of justice'?! This very sunscreen is an homage to the legendary beach episode where Azuki-tan got a sunburn and couldn't help Ruri-chan in the intense battle against the evil kelp-army that was threatening to overgrow the local reef-"

"OKAY OKAY, HERE'S YOUR STUPID CREAM NOW LEAVE ME ALONE"

"S-STUPID CREAM?!?! DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW PRECIOUS THIS ITEM IS TO A FAN LIKE-"

That was all Lucifer could understand as an awfully annoyed scream Mammon let out was drowning Levi's gibberish. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Lucifer knew this vacation was going to be one intense experience...

An hour later, the group found itself where this little story had started off. The Purgatory Hall crew had already arrived long ago, enjoying the chaos together with MC -- who, btw, had been the only one to pass Lucifer's vibe luggage check right away.

Slowly it felt like most of the brothers were ready to go, only Asmodeus was left in the judgemental glare of the avatar of Pride.

But Lucifer noticed they already were way behind the time they were supposed to meet Diavolo at his castle. So, to Asmo's luck, he let off of trying to see what's inside the pretty boy's suitcase and announced the group's departure.

In enthusiasm shared by almost everyone, they let out a big cheer:

"Off to the beach we go!"

Some of the demons had whined about wanting to visit the human world beach. But as those idiot boys literally couldn't be trusted to act responsibly (which is okay, we love them regardless), Diavolo offered to stay at the beach resort he created in the Devildom.

Looking over the endless ocean, surrounded by the equally large beach and glistening in an artificial sun's light, MC was wondering just how powerful the demon prince must be to have created all this. But they were left only little time to be in awe over the location, as their friends demanded their attention shortly after having arrived.

Without going into much detail -- the day was packed with lots and lots of fun. MC was running around the beach, playing and goofing around with their friends, only to take a collective rest and then go do something silly again. Only a few other demons were to be found at the resort, but those were some acquaintances of Diavolo's family, and the group seemed to have scared them off of the beach after, like, an hour or so. Hence, the whole beach served as their playground for whatever activity they wanted to do, until in the afternoon, most of them were about to collapse from exhaustion and hunger.

"That's right, we didn't really have a proper meal since coming here" Asmo noticed as several tummy grumbles undermined his statement.

"We DID bring a picnic basket..." Satan mumbled. "But some genius had to let Beel carry it."

The culprit gave an immediate pout. "I had to hurry, 'kay?!" Mammon huffed. "MC was already at the beach and I--" he stopped. "... U-uh... I mean..."

Gaining a round of sighs and shaking heads, his brothers however decided to let Mammon's... mammon-ness slide for once. Mostly because, approaching from the distance, Barbatos and Solomon were getting closer, their hands full with bags that seemed to be stuffed with food.

"Y-yoU BroUGhT S-nAcKs?!" Beelzebub was already on his feet running towards them but Barbatos' stare was actually enough to make him stop.

"Not before the dishes are prepared, Beelzebub" Barbatos explained calmly, but with this very weird hidden tone in his voice that gave everyone chills despite the scorching summer heat.

"We figured everyone must be starving by now, so Barbatos suggested we'd make a little picnic party with everyone" Solomon cheered, presenting the bags in his hands.

"That sounds lovely" Simeon could be heard among the general noise of approval. "Let me help you prepare everything, Barbatos."

The demon butler beamed him a smile, thanking the angel for his help.

Then, Solomon spoke up again, and every bit of joy vanished from all their faces: "Thank you, Simeon! With the three of us working together the food will be ready in no time!"

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

Barbatos was putting all kinds of spices into a bowl to create a delicious sauce. Right next to him, Simeon prepared mouth-watering sandwiches.

And behind their back, there was this chopping sound. Chop reaching their chop ears in an chop never- chop ending thread, over and chop over again...

Swallowing his tension, Simeon was fighting a frown. "He's only cutting the fruits..." He whispered. "You shouldn't be able to mess up a fruit salad..."

"I know" Barbatos mumbled back. "However I cannot fight this unease that urges me to check if he's really-" He was interrupted by a very unsettling "oops" coming from that certain sorcerer at the cutting board.

In honestly quicker than the blink of an eye Simeon and Barbatos were at Solomon's side, frantically scanning the table for whatever Solomon must've messed up. When all they found were slices of fruit that, well, might have been chopped a bit wonky, they gave Solomon a confused stare.

"I cut off too much of this poor Hellberry's pull" Solomon explained. "Oh well, I'll just cut around the stem and add it to the fruit salad like this."

Both Barbatos and Simeon couldn't help but stare for a moment longer, their brains not really comprehending NOT finding an abomination in Solomon's cooking.

"Can I help you two with anything?" The sorcerer then asked.

"U-uhm, no..." Simeon mumbled. "It's all fine, we just..."

"We wanted to see if there's anything we can help you with" Barbatos jumped in to continue.

"Thanks, but I'm fine. Actually I'm almost finished, so maybe I can help one of you afterw-"

"Nononononono...!" Simeon almost whined. "I-its fine! We're actually almost finished ourselves, so..."

Solomon looked back, raising an eyebrow. "Doesn't look like it to me..."

Suddenly, another voice joined the group.

"I agree! You two are likely just being humble again" Diavolo had walked up to their working station a moment ago, but neither of them seemed to have noticed in their stress. The prince continued: "That's why I decided to lend you a hand as well. This is a vacation for all of us, so I should not burden my loyal butler with all the work."

"That's a commendable attitude for royalty like yourself" Solomon cheered. "Well then, I think Simeon and Barbatos could use a hand."

Diavolo was already squeezing his quite broad body into the tiny cooking space, this certain over-excited sparkle in his eyes as he mustered the food.

Barbatos and Simeon on the other hand were exchanging glances, so immensely stressed that their thoughts were almost audible:

'Barbatos I don't think I can handle any more of this stress' Simeon stared.

'We shouldn't have let Solomon help in the first place, our kindness was foolish' Barbatos stared back.

'What do we do now Barbatos this is the only food we have left, they cannot ruin it'

Thankfully, the perfect butler was not planning to let their "help" threaten the food for any longer. "Young master, I highly appreciate that you thought of my well-being. Which is why I indeed have a request for you and Solomon."

Simeon almost barged in on a frightened impulse, but Barbatos continued before anyone could raise their voice. "There is dessert stored in our hotel's main storage. Would you be so kind and bring enough for our whole group?"

A little surprised, Diavolo agreed. He waited for Solomon to finish cutting the fruits, then they went off to the hotel.

Finally able to catch a breath, Simeon shot Barbatos a last glance. "That was easier than expected. Why didn't we let Solomon bring the desserts earlier?"

Back to mixing spices, Barbatos didn't look up at the question. "What desserts?" He simply asked.

"... Uhm..." Simeon was quite startled. "Are there... Are there no desserts in the storage room...?"

"Oh, I sure hope there are" Barbatos said. "Otherwise I will have some explaining to do..."

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

(To be continued...)

Find my summer event Masterlist and Rules for the requests here <3

[unholyobsessions]

Of late nights and foreign films

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GenderNeutral!Reader

Description: Spencer picks a foreign film for your scheduled movie nights

Requested: Yes

Warnings: None i think 

Word Count: 1.1k

Masterlist

You’re getting off the jet when you ask the question.

“Your place or mine?” The answer is instantaneous.

“Yours.”

It’s become tradition for you and Spencer to get together after every case and have a nice movie night in order to forget whatever happened. You’re not quite sure how it started, it just sort of happened and now you can’t remember a case where you didn’t spend the rest of the night together.

Filled with midnight talks and stupid jokes, these nights have become your favorite part of coming home after a case. It calms you down, it’s something familiar and after looking at dead bodies and haunting images, you need a sense familiarity.

Neither of you drive–he doesn’t like it and you are a danger to society behind the wheel-so you pull your go bags to the metro. It’s a quiet journey back to your apartment, the case hitting you more than either of you cared to admit. You make a the short walk to your apartment in record time, Spencer pulling you slightly closer when a street light suddenly burns out. You fiddle with the keys, ignoring Spencer’s laugh when you struggle to turn the lock and push the door open. Once you finally get it you send a triumphant smile over your shoulder.

You drop the bag and slip off your coat and your booties, sighing in relief. It’s Spencer’s turn to pick the movie so he forgoes any attempt to get comfortable and goes straight to the TV. He pulls out a dvd box and you tilt your head, squinting your eyes to try and read the title. When you realize the exact reason why you can’t read it, you halt your movements.

“God, not another foreign film Spence,” you groan. He has the tendency to pick films in languages you cannot even begin to comprehend, leaving you rushing to read the subtitles the whole movie. He claims it will help strengthen your brain or whatever, you didn’t really understand when he explained it to you. All you know is that you are hardly able to understand the movie, as if Spencer’s body being so close to you wasn’t enough of a distraction.

He sends you a childish grin, immediately making your annoyance simmer and causing you to smile back. You go to the kitchen, putting a popcorn bag in the microwave, finding comfort in the sound of the kettle popping. Spencer slides in, shoes having been taken off and socks sliding smoothly across the wooden floor. His shirt is untucked and he looks just about ready to relax for the rest fo the night. You nod your head toward the fridge and Spencer knows exactly what you mean, the routine having been ingrained into his brain. He grabs a bottle of wine and two glasses as you carefully pull the popcorn bag from the microwave. Once you put it into the bowl, the both of you make your way to back to the living room.

Stetting everything on the coffee table, Spencer uncorks the bottle and pours the wine. You clink your glasses together before reaching for the remote and leaning back against the coach. The movie starts and a sudden whisper in your ear startles you. You turn your head in surprise and Spencer smiles sheepishly.

“What are you doing?” The question comes out harsher than you intended and you can see the blush rush up Spencer’s cheeks.

“Translating,” he says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Is that okay?”

You visibly gulp, unable to formulate a response. You nod your head and Spencer turns back to the TV, an easy to follow translation leaving his lips fluently.

Your body feels hot and you have to resist the urge to shuffle in your seat. The only thing keeping you sane is the glass of wine in your hand and the ability to distract yourself by pushing handfuls of popcorn into your mouth. You try to ignore the way your heart flutters whenever something mildly romantic happens in the movie because if you close your eyes, you can pretend Spencer is actually saying it to you.

You hate to admit that it actually works and you find yourself actually enjoying the plot. You try to relax, leaning against him as you always do but it only makes it worst. He’s closer now and when he speaks, his lips brush against the skin of your ear. Goosebumps rise up your arms and you shiver involuntarily. Assuming that you’re cold, Spencer wraps his free arm around you, pulling you closer to his body. You take a deep breath, hoping that he doesn’t feel the way your heart is about to beat out of your chest.

You’re about three fourths of the way through when you get to the point of the movie when the characters confess their undying love for each other and you decide you’ve had enough. As the whisper of the words “I love you” leave Spencer’s lips, you turn your head and crash your lips against his. A surprised noise rises up his throat, not expecting the sudden contact. It takes him a second for his brain to catch up with the situation but once it does he kisses you back, one of his hands coming up to cup the back of your neck.

You pull away, out of breath and dazed. You both stare at each other, only able to see shadows of the other’s face caused by the glimmer of the TV screen.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, afraid to make your voice any louder.

“I’m not,” he responds and pulls you back into another kiss. This time it’s your turn to be surprised, taken aback by his sudden boldness. When he pulls away he keeps his forehead leaning against yours. “I’ve liked you for a really long time. Ever since you joined the BAU.”

Your breath hitches. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?” In your head that seemed like the only reasonable response, forgetting that you haven’t exactly told him you feel the same way.

“You very quickly became my best friend and I guess I didn’t want to lose that. I’ve never had many friends much less my own age.” He’s still whispering and you can feel his breath fanning across your face.

“You wouldn’t have lost anything because I really like you too you dork.” A small laugh leaves your lips at his shocked expression.

“What?”

“Was me kissing you not big enough of a hint?” You ask teasingly.

“I mean,” he pauses and you can faintly see his cheeks redden slightly. “You could try again.”

You smile and close the small distance, your heart fluttering as your lips meet for the third time that night, the movie still playing long forgotten.

[mydramatiiclife]

The Other Best Friend

Dean and Charlie have been best friends since middle school. Dean remembers meeting the sassy nerdy redhead in math english and they’ve been inseparable ever since. 

They’re now well into their late twenties and share an apartment together. They share an apartment in downtown and LARP on the third Saturday of every month. 

Charlie calls Dean out on his bullshit and Dean supports Charlie in every way he can. 

She’s the sister he never knew he needed. Which is why he cannot understand why he’s now having to compete with for her attention against some loser named Cas that she works with. 

“So what, he like your best friend now?” Dean says over his third bowl of Frosted Flakes. 

“No Dean,” Charlie confirms over while pouring her third bowl of cereal. “You’re still my best friend.”

“Yeah, sure. Then why are you hanging out with him outside of work?”

“Because Cas is a cool dude. We have a lot in common,” Charlie defends. “Plus, when I talk about my work stuff with you your eyes glaze over. He works with me so he understands.”

“Sorry my small brain can’t comprehend your big words,” he says defensively.  

Charlie rolls her eyes. She’s used to his self-deprecating humor, “You know that’s not what I meant, so knock it off.”

“Whatever,” Dean pouts. 

“Oh stop pouting. If you actually gave him a chance instead of imitating a three year old, I think you two would get along.”

“Pass. I have enough friends,” he informs her. 

“You have three; Sam, Benny, and me. And Sam doesn’t count because he’s your brother.”

“Just because someone is your brother, doesn’t make him your friend. Plus three’s company and two's a crowd.”

“That’s not how the saying goes.” She explains. 

“Shut up. Like Drake said, ‘no new friends’.”

“Since when do you listen to Drake?” She asks, confused. 

“I’m hip.” Dean whispers into his spoon. 

Dean’s able to dodge Charlie and her feeble attempts to get him and Cas to meet. He feels like he’s being set up on some weird friend blind date thing. 

He’s able to dodge the two new besties until Charlie’s birthday rolls around. She’s everyone over for brunch, her favorite meal of the day. 

Dean creates a spread of all of her brunch favorites, including a mini waffle bar and mimosa station. 

Charlie is over the moon and everyone seems to be having a good time. Including Dean. He thought it was going to be awkward to meet his best friend’s other friends but they’re all surprisingly cool, even Cas. 

He’s unfairly hot and charming, which Charlie forgot to mention, but he’s also got a great personality. Dean can understand why she never shuts up about him. 

And the best part of it all is that Dean actually has a chance with him. And not in the ‘oh were both into guys’ kinda chance but Cas and him have been flirting all brunch.  

“I don’t know why I didn’t want to meet you.” Dean confesses. 

“Charlie said it’s because you were jealous,” Cas reveals. 

“Of course she did.” Dean rolls his eyes as he takes a sip of mostly champagne mimosa. 

“Was she right?” Cas he moves into Dean’s space. 

“Maybe.” Dean hints. 

Cas moves in closer, “I think I can think of a way to make her jealous.” Cas glances down at Dean’s champagne soaked lips. 

“Oh yeah? How’s that?”

Cas leans forward and captures Dean lips in a kiss. 

When Dean pulls away he notices Charlie staring at them from the far corner, she looks more smug than jealous. She throws him a wink before turning to continue the conversation with her other friends. 

“I don’t think it worked,” he tells Cas. 

“We’ll just have to try harder,” he says before leaning in for another kiss.

[viastro]

chocolate hearts | lee chan

ミ★ synopsis: in which chan confesses to you on valentine’s day.

ミ★ genre: highschool!au, fluff, humor

ミ★ warnings: none!

ミ★ word count: 1,430

ミ★ pairings: chan x female reader

ミ★ notes: at first i didn’t like this at all, then i kept writing it and now it’s kinda grown on me. or maybe’s it’s cause i’m whipped for chan. it’s not even valentine’s day why am i writing about it?! oh god. anyways... i hope you guys like it!

“Why are we even making chocolates for Valentine’s day? You know this whole,” you pause to make air quotes with your fingers, “holiday is a marketing tactic right? And you’ve just fallen victim to capitalism.” Chan giggles at you, nudging you with his shoulder as he pours the melted chocolate into the heart shaped mold. 

“You could’ve asked like, I don’t know, Mingyu to make these with you. He’s the better chef out of your whole group. Why me?” Chan huffs, placing the empty bowl that once held chocolate back on the counter after finishing pouring it into the molds. He swipes a part of the bowl, getting chocolate on his finger. He turns to you, a mischievous grin on his face.

“Don’t you dare.”

He rubs chocolate on your nose anyways. 

“You kept complaining when all you did was melt the chocolate. I was the one who poured the chocolate into the molds and set up the box it’ll be placed in.” You smile, leaning down and rubbing your nose onto his shirt, making him cry out, “Yn! I just washed this!”

“You know I hate Valentine’s day, yet you shoved it in down my throat by making me make chocolate with you. What’s your motive here Channie?” You squint and he shrugs, turning around and placing the molds into the fridge. 

“I’m going to confess to someone tomorrow.” He says, and you squeeze the counter tightly until your knuckle turns white, feeling oddly unhappy with that revelation.

“Oh? I didn’t know you had a crush.”

“Well the only time we talk is at lunch when we eat in the stairwell like losers. Hard to update you on my life in that short thirty minutes.” Chan comments as he begins cleaning the surface of the kitchen. 

“Okay first of all, you totally could’ve told me in those thirty minutes. Second of all, you’re not even close to being a loser. You have girls falling for you left and right. Literally! I saw three girls fall to their knees after you smiled back at them in the hallway today. I truly don’t understand how you have so much power…” You mutter the last part, seriously thinking about how many girls and guys love him. 

“Are you gonna help me clean or what yn?” Chan changes the subject, turning around with a smile on his face, showing that he holds no annoyance in his words. 

“Only if you let me try a piece of chocolate.” You bargain and he rolls his eyes, shaking his head at you.

“If you don’t help me clean I won’t make you that grilled cheese you want.” Chan threatens and your eyes widen, hopping off the counter and making your way to the unwashed dishes. 

“Can’t believe you threatened me with grilled cheese and it worked.” You joke, letting out a laugh when Chan rolls his eyes at you.

You fail to notice the fond look on Chan’s face as you laugh. 

 “Chan came to school with chocolates today! And it’s Valentine’s day! Who do you think he’s gonna confess to?” You hear the girls gossip in the seat behind you, and you let out a small sigh. Turning the page in your book, aiming your focus towards english.

“I don’t even know who it could be. He hardly spends time with girls, only does so when he needs to in class. I’m really curious as to who swooned him, I thought he was like... untouchable.”

You chuckle under your breath, “untouchable my ass.” 

“Yn!” Your eyes immediately widen at the all too familiar voice. You slowly turn around in your seat to find Chan standing at the doorway of your classroom. He has a shy smile on his face, and you only notice the chocolates you both made yesterday in his hands when the girls start whisper-screeching.

“Chan… what are you doing here? I told you I can’t eat lunch with you today.” Those around you start whispering even more, making you realize that you just outed the fact that you and Chan have lunch together everyday.

am absolutely stupid luv

“Oh my GOD they have lunch together everyday?”

“How come we’ve never seen them?!”

“I had a feeling about her…”

“A feeling? Are you sure it wasn’t your dick twitching you horny bastard-” 

Chan coughs into his sleeve to get everyone to hush, which works incredibly well because everyone quite literally pauses. He smiles as he walks over so that he’s right in front of you, still holding the beautifully wrapped chocolates that you both decorated. You tied the bow and added stickers as a way to make up for you only melting the chocolate.

“I know but it’s Valentine’s day.” You raise an eyebrow at his response, causing him to let out a shaky laugh once he realizes you don’t understand at all what he’s trying to do.

“And you know that we spent a lot of time on these chocolates.” Chan continues and you nod your head slowly. You’re still confused as to why he’s in your classroom right now during lunch when you specifically told him that you were going to work on English homework.

“Yeah… you said you were going to give them to your crush today.” You say and he nods his head, now feeling embarrassed at the fact that you truly cannot comprehend what he’s trying to do and that your whole class is watching this go down.

“Yes… do you see where I’m going with this?” 

“No? Oh my god wait, is your crush in my class?”

“Jesus Christ yn-”

“No seriously like, is it Jisoo? Cause I don’t blame you! she’s really pretty-” 

“Yn it’s you.” Chan says and you pause. The rest of the room does a collective gasp, and the whispers begin once again. You feel warmth flood your face as you direct your eyes towards the chocolates, refusing to look anywhere else as your brain processes the fact that Chan just confessed to you.

“I like you, yn. You’re very precious to me and I cherish the time I get to spend with you. I thought it would be even nicer to be able to spend more time together as a couple.” Your eyes widen at the compliment, continuing to not look at Chan while he pours his heart out to you. It’s not until he bends down so that his face is in your point of view, and his big smile overcomes his features. 

“Why is my best friend hiding her face from me?”

“Shut up.” You mutter, looking away and covering your cheeks with each hand to try and cool them down. Chan places the chocolates on his desk and gives you his signature mischievous smile.

“You’re so cute.” Chan gushes, softly removing your hands from your cheeks just so he can squeeze your face. He coos and you roll your eyes at him, slapping his hands away. You take the box of chocolates, holding it carefully in your hands, and finally a small smile graces your features.

“Do you accept my feelings?” He asks, and you glance up at him. Chan’s staring at you with a hopeful expression on his face, a pink tinge to his cheeks. His blonde hair is slightly curly, giving him a softer appearance along with his uniform. 

“Yeah, I do Channie.” You answer, and your heart warms as a big smile forms on his face. He nods his head, now placing his hands behind his back in a way to try and prevent himself from wrapping his arms around you.

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Wonderful.”

“Fantastic.” Chan raises his eyebrow at you and you stick your tongue out at him. He gives you a smile, glancing at the time he realizes he has to head back to class before lunch is over.

“I’ll see you later?” You nod your head, face still embarrassingly warm as you do so. He grins, before turning around and heading out of the room. You turn your head to shoot glares at all your classmates who are still staring, and they immediately look away and start up their own conversations again. 

You move to sit down in your seat when you hear a loud, “WOOOO! YES!” come from the hallway. You easily recognize Chan’s voice, making you giggle at the prospect of him cheering at you returning his feelings. You shake your head, opening up the box of chocolates to reveal a sticky note.

sorry for making you help me make your own chocolates ! at least i know you like the packaging since you decorated it hehe. i hope this helps you enjoy valentine’s day a bit more yn <3

p.s. i stole a piece :p

yours, channie

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Dawn (6)

Loki x fem!Reader

ONE/TWO/THREE SHOT

Warnings:shhh!

Summary: A truce to end all wars leads to an alliance between Earth and Asgard in the form of Loki marrying a mortal. None of them what this. None except fate.

Word Count: I don’t know how many of you read this but oh Lords of whatever forces there are in this world, the things I hear. The girl my brother broke up with is have a lot of trouble letting go of him. To the point that she is dragging him through the mud in front of his friends one second and then begging his friends to make him talk to her another. it’s a roller coaster he wants to get off and is more than happy to admit all his faults and apologise for them as long as he gets some space to heal in his own. But nooooo. *sigh* Times like these when I think I was lucky to not be in a relationship in school and college.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

Eyes closed. Candles lit. Incense burning. Body soaked.

Everything inside you wants to drown in this bliss after the nightmare. Everything does. The incense from the garden of healers is working its way through your lungs and into your bloodstream, latching onto that which does not belong there; forcing it to give up and be out of your system after eighteen hours. The cold water filled with the flowers from Yggdrasil to the brim is tingling every wound and bruise. Well, except the ones on your neck and around your shoulders.

It is relaxing. It should be relaxing. That is what your mind keeps running in a loop instead of enjoying the way Asgard is taking care of you right now. But the continuous throbbing of your brain for apparently no reason is not making anything work.

Why are you so on edge right now? Your inner voice would shake you till your brains feel off if it could.

I don’t know. Your heart keeps jumping now and then; that poor thing is not sure what it is running to or away from. I don’t know.

It is frustrating to keep looking at the night sky outside while unconsciously scratching your head for answers that it cannot give you. I don’t know.

“May I be of some help?”

The siren voice soaked completely in the purest honey in the world comes from the archway leading to your bedroom. Your body turns in the tub to watch the source, creating ripples where you sit. It is him, your heart says as Loki stands there, leaning on the wall in that black shirt and black pajamas.

Of course, it’s him, your inner voice lets out a tired sigh before going quiet for a minute only to come back with a whisper resonating inside your head, your husband.

“Hmm?” is all you can muster while trying to force this unforeseeable lump inside your throat down. Loki parts his lips and looks down at something on the floor. His feet are naked, that lump in your throat grows a little. Great observation, your inner voice replies with a hint of sarcasm. “You have been struggling with that itch for quite a while. How about I help you with that,” he breathes with a tilt of his head, and the candlelight hits the pupils just perfectly for you to see the glow in those gentle eyes.

It does take some time for your brain to process that you are not breathing. It takes a little longer to realise that he has been standing there watching you scratch your head like some wild animal for quite some time. Very smooth, Y/N.

“Uh, it’s fine. I’ll shampoo it and it’ll be aww-aahh-”

Your right arm disagrees the moment you try to lift it up. You weren’t even hit, you stupid limb!

Loki is already taking patient steps towards the tub while the embarrassment is heating up your body, and this wonderful cold water. “It never hurts to have a working hand,” he states and your brain instantly deep dives into the endless oceans for the lit-up notorious corners imagining what all those hands can do.

You scooch a little inside the tub. Can he read my thoughts? Oh, Gods, I hope not. While you are trying to hide the hot thoughts of your vibrating brain, your left hand is undoing the knot of your hair; a gesture that welcomes Loki to draw a stool behind you, grounding his feet on either side of the subsection of the tub storing water just for the purpose of washing those beaten up locks.

Cold hands gather those Y/H/C tresses and push them away from you and into the sink section of the tub. Those frosty fingers come back to gather whatever is left; brisking by your neck, teasing your shoulders, marking your forehead, tantalising your temples, taunting your ears. And you can do nothing but let the tiniest touch of his fingers fire up your nerve endings.

“Rest your head here,” his voice whispers. With that low pitch, your body is ready to do anything it asks of you. Anything.

You feel his hands steadily undoing the knots in your hair. Slow and patient with his movements, he has made sure he has got all of them before your ears hear him dunking something into the water and pouring the cold elixir on your head. His hand is steady; so is the trail of water that trickles down from your temples into your head, making its way through the marred strands, doing its best to take the muck down with it before another wave comes. And with every wave, Loki’s palm rests on your forehead to stop that water from going anywhere it is not supposed to; gently pressing back into your head, feeling like his palm is taking with it all the burdens and horrors of the night that are weighing upon your soul.

Once the weight is all in the wet tresses, Loki turns to grab the shampoo- that Sybll was kind enough to leave for you- but stops to reach for the concoction he uses. Taking a generous amount in his palms, he mixes enough drops of water for it to start forming a lather. Once he is satisfied, he comes for your hair, starting with your head, smearing the product in every nook and corner, around the ears and on the back of your neck. Once he feels he has covered everything, he gets ready to get to work, never even letting you sense the high you are about to ride.

The fingers dig past the hair to make contact with the scalp and start a symphony with the skin as they massage every micron of skin they touch. You can feel your eyes turn back into your head at the perfect pressure they are putting onto your mess of a head; pressing into the pain, hurt, anxiety, mixed feelings, and releasing them all with the release of these cold little magic wands. Every press and release is a gush of serotonin just washing all over your existence; every wiggle of those fingers is a newfound lightness you never thought you could feel. In the midst of floating in a clear blue ocean of release, you do not expect a moan to escape your parted lips. And just as it does, you feel your body falling headfirst, realising the cruelty of gravity and jerking awake just as your moan registers in your hypnotised brain cells. Your hands catch hold of the edge of the tub and the water ripples at the sudden jolt.

“Everything okay?” Loki’s voice comes from behind you just as his hands stop moving in your hair.

“Yeah-” you clear your throat and shush your heartbeat to slow down- “yes.”

Don’t stop, please.

Every single strand receives the love and care it deserves; to the point that they are sure to question if you actually ever cared for them. So tender are his movements that three questions run inside your mind.

The first question- how can someone so soft ever have the heart to hurt anyone? The past of your world speaks of evils this God had brought to earth. In fact, it speaks it louder than the time when the same God was the one to bring down the threats that would have ended your planet once and for all. We all have our reasons to be manipulated by the darkness at some point in our life. I am a living breathing example of one.

The second question- how utterly vivid your imagination had to be to imagine what those very tender movements of his hands feel like on your naked skin? The mystery that was his supple touch, chasing the goosebumps on your body. How enticing was the mere thought?

The third question…………what was the third question?

Washed with the same scrutiny as they were lathered, Loki pats the water off before leaving the room to give you privacy.

Clean and dried, you take one of the green bathrobes to wrap around yourself and walk out into the bedroom where Loki stands stirring something in a small bowl. “Oh,” you cannot keep the mild surprise in, mostly because every ounce of the insignificant has escaped your body now, “I thought you would be asleep by now.”

“Not yet,” he answers quite seriously, his eyes on the bowl for a few more moments till they rise to look at you; and get stuck on you. You do not know what those eyes are seeing. Of course, you cannot comprehend the image- of something beautiful right out of a textbook- that you are for Loki in this slowed-down moment. The glowing delicacy shining still from the pollen of the flowers working on your skin, the wet hair strands teasing him of the closeness he has yet to feel; all of it wrapped up in green with one single knot. Oh, the prayers he feels coming out of him to be permitted to unravel that knot and bow down to worship you.

“What is that?”

Your voice brings him back to the bowl in his hand. He has to let his eyes adjust to the reality he stands in so as to come up with a reply in time. “It’s for your wounds. Here, sit down.”

You do. The copper bowl contains a muddy mixture with a pasty consistency. The handy mixer that seems smaller than it is in Loki’s long pale fingers is kept aside on the side table and his fingers dig themselves into the concoction. His eyes turn to you. “Your shoulders,” he requests. With the brilliance his pupils reflect, you can swear you would have given him your heart if he asked just as sweetly. And so you turn to the other side to sit with your robe slipped just above your chest, giving him all the exposed wounds the water could not get to as much.

The fresh red bruises along with the open scars marred from Torbarik’s bad etiquettes sink Loki’s heart a little. Now, he wishes he had ended his life with his own hands. It itches his chest deep inside to know how much it must be hurting you right now; given your inability to heal as fast as the Asgardians or frost giants.

“Thank you, Loki-” you bring him out of the slow train of overthinking misery is about to step on inside his head- “for coming for me.”

Loki’s fingers tenderly dab the paste over the wounds, instantly bringing a soothing cold fire over the cuts. “You are my wife, love. You should expect anything less than coming to your aid from me.”

You are my wife, love.

Your throat can visibly be seen sucking in as much air as it can to make sure you heard him right. Once your mind settles that this is in fact what Loki just declared, your brain cannot help but run those soothing words in a loop inside your head till they seep into every cell in your body, making that truth a part of your existence. And soon enough, parts of you are getting heated from the sudden confession. Your cheeks and the back of your neck are doing a really bad job of hiding the flush from his words. And on top of that, those fingers are doing one hell of a job, soothingly rubbing themselves on your shoulders and neck.

“Just two minutes and then it will dry and fall off. The wounds will close but the bruises will take some time to go away as per my observation.”

He has barely finished the sentence and you are already shifting in your place to turn and face him. He can see you have something on your mind that you want to speak and so, he puts away everything and sits there patiently for you to take your time to gather your words.

“Loki-” he darts a quick look to your nails digging into your knees- “you don’t...you don’t have to do...umm…-” your voice lowers to a whisper- “how do I put this-” you straighten your back and close your hands into a fist before looking him into those beautiful hypnotising eyes- “you don’t have to do anything you don’t really...feel. What you do not want to...do? Uhh...it’s just that...okay. Ahem. Because I am...I...oh my God-”

“I like you too.”

The white noise humming through your eyes feels like you have lost your ability to hear. The sudden roller coaster rush that your heart feels makes it want to save you from whatever height you are falling right now. You do not see it but the mere dilation of those starry y/e/c eyes at those words washes away any doubts Loki has of you not reciprocating his feelings. The fresh flush of heat emanating from your cheeks and the surprise-filled blink adds to the euphoria. “...you do?” you hushed voice cannot rise beyond this or you might start crying.

His smile is the response. The love in filling his eyes to the brim; something you have never seen before, not even for Thor. His hand moves to let his fingers caress your cheek. And oh! The cold touch of the back of his fingers with your hot cheeks is nothing short of the blessed fountain satiating the thirst of a traveller looking for eternal youth. Your eyes close on his touch, your head tilting, giving into his brush. “I have always liked you, Y/N,” Loki asserts softly, his hand embracing you while his thumb grazed your cheek, “today you just resonated my feelings and made me fall in love with you.”

Your hand rises to engulf his into yours. Like a heavyweight lifted from your chest, you feel your body breathe again. Your foreheads meet, exchanging what feels like a lifetime of unspoken feelings. They were there for quite a while; it just took them a brush with danger to surface and show their colours- their strength and their weakness- all in one night.

This is the first time you are so close to him, being able to witness all the perfection that is Loki, the God, the strategist, the Silvertongue. Yours. All yours. His lips parted, his cold breath a verse teasing your lips. His dark lush eyelashes heavy with a newfound need, hiding it in those eyes gone dark. His tongue licking his lips, waiting for your approval even though you are right in his reach. Your fingers, with a mind of their own, touch his chin, wanting to travel to his lips, feel them, want them. The craving is making your stomach turn, your breaths shallow and length apart till it is unbearable. You close that inch of space to let your love-deprived lips land on his, hesitant at the gesture. But Loki welcomes it. The first sweet kiss bursting lights inside the both of you. And with the first, the urge for the second grows. His tongue tastes your lips, and you let it enter; you let it discover every edge needy for his touch. Your tongue plays with his, lets him know how much you want it; how much you want him. So do your hands. Running over his chest, they find their way to his neck and hair. His, on the other hand, draw you closer to him- one by the waist, the other supporting your neck- carefully so as not to hurt your still-healing wounds- while pulling you further into him.

There is a mellifluous clash of your bodies that night, hands discovering each other, heat siphoned by the cold, love pouring in tender kisses over the bare skin, fingers entangled in hairs, pleading for more. Hips crashing into each other like lazy tides under the pleasant moonlight on a deserted shore, moans filling the ears, satiating the hunger of giving the satisfaction to their lover, breaths both hot and cold creating such wondrous mist in the midst of that steaming love-making. The fulfilling rise to the high, the tides reaching the rocky shores, wanting more to come crashing with thunderous vibrations. And thunderous they are, making you see rainbows in the back of your head. The best part is that love does not stop at discovering the bodies. It continues, with the willingness to take care of you, with pulling the duvet over your body and gathering you in his surprisingly strong arms, with that sweet longing and deep kiss on your forehead, and then your nose and then your lips, telling you that he is yours. All yours. For eternity.

.

“What’s happening? Sybll handed me the sparkliest dress in whatever wardrobe this appeared from and said it was urgent. Is this another one of Odin’s tradition things?”

Loki is already walking towards you as fast as he can. And while he does, you notice a blue bruise on his neck which you are pretty you did not mark him with. We were so gentle! I couldn’t have. Could I? 

“What’s that on your neck?” you cannot help yourself.

“Yes,” Loki nods, “this is-”

“Y/N,” Thor calls for you from the halls, “you are here. Look who is here to meet you!”

Your eyes are wide and already turning to Loki for answers, who is drawing in a loooong breath. “Yes, this is what I was talking about. The bruise is also for...this. Come on, let’s go meet your self-declared father.”

You don’t even have to guess who Loki is talking about, for that very moment you enter the great hall, Tony walking with his arms open to embrace you.

“How are you doing, kid? These Asgardians treating you well?”

His hug is more than welcome and you throw yourself into it. Oh, and he smells like home. Tom Ford cologne and Quinnjet- just like you remember. “Tony, it is so good to see you.” Your lips cannot stop smiling and the smile turns even wider on seeing Rhodey and Carol standing behind him.

Rhodey’s bear hug still has the same power to cure your homesickness while Carol’s embrace just tells you she is here for you now and whenever.

“Loki.”

“Stark.”

They still greet each other the same way- a simple nod and...that’s it. Same goes for Rhodey. Carol, on the other hand, has a special fistbump for her partner in galactic crimes of justice. “You still owe me one artefact from your vault, Loco,” Carol mentions, making Loki chortle.

“You still owe me a decent fight.”

“Bullshit. I cleaned the floor with your face last time, you trickster.”

“I’m sorry, I cannot hear you over the sound of my undefeated title.”

“Oh, okay okay okay. It’s on, Loki boy. It is on!”

“Before anything is on,” you interrupt, “how about we go have a drink. Or two.”

“Yes, I love that,” Thor smacks you in the back, forcing you to swallow the grunt politely as you lead the way.

 Asgards finest wine and beer are being served and you cannot help but notice Thor eyeing you and Loki with certain veiled judgement while conversations are made around the table. You let it slide, hoping it’s Tony being Tony.

“Isn’t that right, Stark,” Thor laughs and looks at him.

“Yeah, yeah, all good,” Tony replies with disinterest, his eyes stuck on you, “I’m sorry, Y/N, I have to ask. What is that bruise on your neck?”

The whole table goes silent. Loki’s drink is paused right by his lips while Carol sips hers with peak interest while shifting her curious gaze between Loki and you.

“It’s nothing,” you respond lightly with a shake of your head, wanting the conversation to go back to whatever it was.

“We tried to get the same tattoos,” Loki adds, “it did not work so I removed it in my Asgardian ways. The bruises are nothing. They’ll vanish within two more days.”

You nod a liiiittle vigorously in agreement, making Tony narrow his eyes in suspicion. “I don’t buy it. Y/N, look at me. Tell me what happened. I need to know that you are safe.”

Thor looks at the two of you. You know it will be difficult to make Tony understand your safety concerns. Even if you are safe here now, he will see it as nothing else but an excuse to take you away from here. And even take Loki with you if that’s what it takes. Or worse, he might actually start a war with the enemies here. You know of at least five people who would agree to this and stand on the front lines of that very fight.

“Tony it’s nothing,” you try to convince him.

“Y/N. What. Happened.”

Thor is about to open his mouth when you do the most outrageous thing you could think of.

“Loki and I tried some stuff, okay!” you nearly yell.

At this point, everyone is looking at you with more questions in their eyes. Even Loki.

“We experimented with BDSM,” you finally blurt out, keeping your head high, “and I liked it.”

Silence.

Carol’s silence is a victorious one; like she was waiting to hear this. Rhodey’s is more uncomfortable and you know he just wants to get up and go from there before hearing any more details about this. Loki’s silence is on the lines of appreciative surprise towards you. He is impressed. And at the same time getting some ideas.

And Tony?

His beer glass shatters in his hand. That pretty much answers it.

“W-what is beady-essum?” Thor is the only one sitting there in confusion while Carol is the only soul who guffaws through the thrilling silence.

“YESSS! I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU TWO WERE SMUSHING BOOTIES!!”

[just-come-baek]

at your scarvice

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader ft. Jimin x OC (Jiwoo) and other BTS members as cameos

Themes: smut | comedy | ghost!au | haunted house!au | amateur ghost hunters!au | friends to lovers!au

Word count: 12.2k

Summary: “I’ve done a research about a haunted house which is like only one village away from Jiwoo’s parents’ house, and it would be awesome if we went there for a quick ghost hunt before the party. You can even bring all your cameras and shoot a Halloween special for your YouTube channel or whatever. You’re subscribers will love it, and besides, what could possibly go wrong?”

Prompt: “If I die, I’m going to haunt your ass.”

Warnings: amateur ghost hunting | irresponsible usage of ghost hunting devices | mentions of brutal deaths | mentions of Jungkook being a YouTuber | plenty pop culture references | friendly bickering | main characters being idiots | occasional spooky stuff | penetrative sex | 

__________

Knock! Knock!

“What are you doing here?” Jungkook asked straightforwardly upon seeing me on the other side of the doors. As per usual, I smiled brightly, waiting for him to move aside, so I could feel myself home.

“I’m inviting myself in,” I answered, walking past him. “Tonight is a big day, and we gotta get ourselves ready,” I added and put two heavy shopping bags on the floor before plopping on the couch, catching my breath. “I planned the entire day, and we’re already far behind schedule. If it wasn’t for the traffic, I would be here about thirty minutes earlier.”

“It’s just a Halloween party,” Jungkook stated, and I rolled my eyes. “It’s no big deal; Jiwoo organizes one every year.”

“The party is just one of the things we’re gonna do,” I started, excited to tell him about everything I had meticulously planned. I was going to make sure he would never forget this night. “I’ve prepared a few surprises before the party.”

“Do I wanna know?” Jungkook asked, sitting in an armchair across from me.

“One thing at a time, okay?” I proposed, and Jungkook unwillingly complied; he had never been the one to fancy surprises, but he could make an exception for his best friend. “First thing on the list – re-watching the season 6 of Buzzfeed Unsolved: Supernatural while eating unhealthy snacks and having gin and tonic drinks,” I revealed, and Jungkook scrutinized me, making an ugly face.

“Are we talking postmortem, too?”

“I can’t believe you had to ask me that,” I answered, a little bit disappointed that he thought I’d skip this content. Never; it was too good to be ever skipped on.

“Sweet,” Jungkook exclaimed, jumping out of the armchair in excitement. “Why don’t you turn on the playlist, and I’ll go get us glasses and a bowl for the chips?”

Hurriedly, I logged into Jungkook’s computer and turned on YouTube.

“Which episode was your favorite?” Jungkook asked me as he sat on the couch beside me, setting the tableware on the coffee table next to the laptop.

“All of them were good. They’ve gathered a lot of evidence this season, but for me, the house call one was the best."

“It was dope, but my favorite is definitely the season finale,” Jungkook stated, and I couldn't disagree. All of the episodes were great, and it was impossible to choose the best one – objectively, at least. All of them were hilarious and spooky in their own way, and it was a delight to re-watch them again. “The marathon shall begin,” he added, pressing the play button.

“Finally.”

It was a very peaceful afternoon, and frankly, it was exactly what I needed after a couple of hectic days at the university. The professors were more demanding than usual, and a relaxing hangout was the perfect remedy to all the stress I had been put under.

Per each episode, Jungkook and I would have a drink and empty a bag of potato chips, occasionally bickering about how we would act in these haunted places. While we both considered ourselves shainiacs, it was quite obvious we would chicken out in the moment of strange, not necessarily supernatural, occurrence.

For the outsiders, Jungkook might have seemed to be a tough cookie, but in reality, he was just a big softie. I, on the other side, enjoyed horrors a bit too much; therefore, in the face of danger, I would laugh.

Probably.

One cannot be sure without actually witnessing a supernatural occurrence. Best case scenario – a full- body apparition. 

“You would totally run outside screaming,” Jungkook snickered when the ghoul boys’ spirit box picked up a bizarre voice. “You would lose your fucking mind.”

“I would let out a confused chuckle at best,” I fought back, but Jungkook wasn’t having any of this, throwing a potato chip at me, blowing a raspberry. “See, this is why Jiwoo doesn’t like you. You’re too childish.”

“What are you talking about? Jiwoo adores me,” Jungkook protested, and I couldn’t help myself but burst his little bubble of confidence and self-assurance. “I'm like... her best friend.”

“She only tolerates you because she has the biggest crush on Jimin,” I explained, and Jungkook gasped in disbelief. “What? You didn’t know?” I asked, confused because it was too obvious not to notice her infatuation. Only Jimin was too blind to see it, despite Jiwoo’s blatant flirting.

“Of course, I know. I’m not that stupid,” Jungkook answered, but I still thought he and Jimin shared one brain cell. “Too bad for her; Jimin's dumb.”

“I'm betting she's gonna make a move tonight,” I started, knowing the juicy gossip which would pique Jungkook's interest. “Jimin told me he's cosplaying as Fred from Scooby-Doo, and she's coincidentally dressing as Daphne. She's gonna be as subtle as a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerin plant.”

“Weird way to put it, but I agree,” Jungkook answered, giggling adorably under his breath. “And where's your costume?” Jungkook asked, confused, as he finally noticed the lack of my spooky outfit. Our whole crew enjoyed Halloween too much to attend a party in basic all black clothes. “Jiwoo's not gonna let you in without one. You know it.”

“Relax; I'm going as the Nun from the Conjuring Universe. My costume's at Jiwoo's. I'm not parading in that hellish make-up, giving people heart attacks,” I elaborated, and Jungkook nodded, understanding my choice. Last year, I had been dressed as a very vivid horror character, and a few elders had got pretty spooked. I'm not going down that road again. “I've only got white face powder, three black eyeliners, and a set of black contact lenses on me. And check this out; all of it fitted into my new fanny pack. It's awesome, isn't it?” I showed it to Jungkook, and he grabbed it to investigate my new purchase.

“I've been trying to convince you to buy one for almost a year; what've changed your mind?” Jungkook asked suspiciously, remembering numerous rejections of his (in his opinion) well-argued propositions. In all honesty, I considered fanny packs a terrible accessory, but tonight it suited the occasion. It was more comfortable than a purse or a backpack, and surprisingly, it could fit more items than I had previously assumed. “You've also got a new phone case? It's awesome! Why didn't you get one for me, too?” He added in a whiny tone after inspecting my latest let's summon demons phone case.

“I'd say my fanny pack is going to be a Mystery Mousketool, but then I realized you know what the item is, and you don't know what it's going to be used for,” I started rumbling, and Jungkook looked at me in visible confusion. Perhaps, he had one drink too many to comprehend my twisted presentation. “All I'm saying now, it may come in handy if the second phase of my amazing plan goes a little bit off track,” I continued vaguely. Best friends or not, I couldn't straightforwardly confess that it would be easier for me to run for my life if the police would start chasing us for trespassing a haunted property.

“Whatever's going on your mind, I don't like it,” Jungkook muttered as my previous account must've triggered his spider-sense. “What are you plotting?”

“It's nothing, really,” I tried to dismiss the topic, but Jungkook wasn't having any of that; he wanted to know everything about my secret plan, and he wouldn't stop glaring at me until I'd tell him all the details. With this man, keeping a secret wasn't a possibility.

“Tell me, or else I'm not going anywhere,” Jungkook threatened, and Halloween or not, I knew he wasn't joking. For him, gaming all night was just as entertaining as attending a party; therefore, he didn't have any trouble choosing either one of them. At this point, the only thing I could do was to advertise my plan, making it irresistible. “I was planning on streaming this one game this week, and I might as well start doing it today,” Jungkook carried on with his nerdy shenanigans, letting me know it was my cue to change the subject, snowing him under a handful of promises of an adventurous unforgettable night.

“I've done a research about a haunted house which is like one village away from Jiwoo's parents' house, and it would be awesome if we went there for a quick ghost hunt before the party. You can even bring all your cameras and shoot a Halloween special for your YouTube channel or whatever. Your subscribers would love it, and besides, what could possibly go wrong?” I blurted out on one breath, hoping my sincerity was enough to convince him. “Pretty please?”

***

The bus to the village was about to leave at 17:06, and we had only ten minutes left to double-check our inventory: two go pro cameras, two old-fashioned flashlights, a legitimate spirit box (which Jungkook had been gifted two months ago on his birthday), an ouija board (which he gave me for my early birthday), and a spare bottle of booze if we sobered up before arriving at the location.

Due to traffic, our bus arrived a few minutes late, but we were in a great mood, so we didn’t mind it that much. If anything, we were even more excited, because it would be already getting dark upon our arrival.

“So tell me something about your research,” Jungkook started, as we found a couple of empty seats in the back row of the bus – finally we were the cool kids.

“OK, so check this out,” I started, sitting comfortably in my window seat, rubbing my hands together in ardor. “No one really knows how many ghosts haunt this place, yet according to previous owners’ accounts there are at least three ghosts roaming all around the house, and I have my theory about their identities,” I said with a mischievous smirk upon my face, waiting for Jungkook to compliment my well-done research.

“What’s your theory?” He inquired, already intrigued by the house’s story.

Even it was only my thesis.

“Finally, let’s go over some theories,” I said, quoting my favorite YouTube channel.

Whispering, I told him everything I had managed to dig out, successfully keeping Jungkook on the edge of his seat for the entire ride.

It was a mystery how many ghosts actually haunt this location, but according to the witnesses’ testimonies, old newspaper articles, and land registers, I was sure about three names. All of the three men were once residents, and all of them died tragically within the sinister four walls.

The unholy trinity of Kims – that’s the name of my theory.

The house was built in 1913 on an old rye field. It was a very amicable side of the village, and no one had expected the house could bring so much evil.

The first tenants moved in 1915, and though neither of them died, they reported they had witnessed strange happenings within the premises, beginning with the dog barking in the middle of the night at the darkness, ending with them hearing screeching sounds from under the walls.

One night, they stirred awake with their skin covered in scratches, and their dog breathing heavily, slowly bleeding to death. Needless to say, they moved out before the dawn, leaving all of their belongings behind.

While the majority of the locals believed it was witches’ revenge since the coven had been denied the premises, some of whom thought the family was mentally-ill and violent.

The house remained empty way until 1973 when Kim Seokjin moved in. Back in the time, he was a singer, slowly gaining popularity. Having signed the contract with an entertainment label, he bought a house as his own getaway when he needed a break from his demanding fans.

He would reside in the house a few times a year, only when he was desperate for a few moments of solitude. In late October 1974, he went for a short hiatus. Late evening, when he was relaxing with a glass of scotch, someone knocked on his doors, asking for someone – almost like in The Strangers.

Seokjin suspected the stranger was just a very sneaky fan and locked the person outside. The sole purpose of buying the property so far away from the city was precisely omitting situations like this.

Unfortunately for him, it was not a fan.

Later that night, a dozen of Satanists broke into Seokjin’s house, tied him up, and carried him straight to the basement where they performed a grim ritual. According to the police report released to the press, he was discovered lying on his back in the middle of a bloody pentagram, his intestines gutted out, his tongue cut out found in a golden goblet, and two paper knives sticking out of his eyeballs.

It is told that his ghost roams around the basement, leaving a bloody trace after him. Moreover, a young journalist, back in 1981, while doing research about satanic rituals, claims she had seen his ghost, resting in a rocking chair down in the basement, sipping a glass of alcohol. She even swore she could smell a mixture of whisky and blood in the air.

Unfortunately, she didn’t gather any evidence, later being called a lunatic by the disbelieving society.

The house waited for its new residents for twenty years – in August 1994, a newly wedded couple moved in right after their honeymoon. Kim Namjoon was a poet, teaching European literature on the university, while his wife, Kim Joori, was a sweet librarian.

At first, they didn’t notice anything strange. No weird noises, no unexpected guests, no cold spots, no nothing. Everything was peaceful until they decided to conduct a major renovation – it was then when the hell unleashed.

In 1996 they decided to start trying for a baby, and though they both fancied the old décor of the house, it was evident it wasn’t a safe space for a child. While they were thrilled to upgrade the property, providing their newborn with safety, the entities which lived inside were not.

Joori was the one who started experiencing supernatural happenings; she only worked three times a week, and the majority of her time, she spent alone at home. During these late hours, she thought her mind was playing tricks on her. At first, she justified it with stress and a shitload of work regarding the renovation, but then, the occurrences she had witnessed couldn’t be explained with logic.

Joori wanted to sell the property and move out, yet Namjoon would always dismiss her pleas. It wasn’t until November 1996 when Joori, who was already three months pregnant, and Namjoon had a big fight. She gave him an ultimatum, and when Namjoon chose the house over her, she moved out.

A few collective nights after Joori’s departure, Namjoon would sit by the newly rebuilt fireplace and drink into oblivion. It was the first time he noticed peculiar activity in the house, yet he blamed the alcohol for it.

Slowly, day after day, Namjoon would lose his mind. It started off with strange whispers. The voice in his head, or so he thought, begged him to call Joori and bring her back, yet his pride would always stop after pressing the 6th digit of her parents’ landline.

Then it was tugs; from time to time, Namjoon would feel his shirt being tugged. It was challenging to explain with logic, but he opted for blaming the trauma for making him delusional. Namjoon would rather believe his brain was slowly frying itself than accept the supernatural entities.

At some point, he also started hearing distant giggles within the house and seeing shadows passing between walls, but the last straw that broke the camel’s neck was definitely his book of poems flying across the room, landing in the middle of the carpet, and then shredding into pieces right in front of his eyes. While a lot of events could be blamed on the strong drafts of wind or poor timely construction of the house, some things he witnessed were unexplainable.

Shortly after the incident, the entity residing in the house became violent – it wanted Namjoon away, and since he wasn’t going to leave like his wife, there was another way of getting rid of him.

Namjoon wanted to leave the house, reach out to Joori and start anew with her and their baby.

However, he never did.

On a Christmas morning, Joori paid him a visit and the things she witnessed traumatized her for life.

Namjoon’s suitcase was neatly packed, waiting by the doors to be picked up. The house was spotless, except for Namjoon’s study.

Walls were painted red with blood, Namjoon’s body dismembered – pieces of his body parts scattered all over the floor. Only his head was in scarless, resting on top of his desk, right next to his ripped poetry book.

No signs of forced entry, no motive, no evidence.

The police obviously closed the case, but Joori never felt at peace, still believing it was the entity that killed her husband.

And now, finally, the third Kim.

Kim Taehyung.

Not that long time ago, in 2007, the land was purchased by happy-go-lucky Kim Taehyung. At that time, Taehyung was only 19. He bought the house with his inheritance. Ever since little, he was very family-orientated, and when he had a chance to purchase a property, he didn’t hesitate.

Just like former residents, Taehyung didn’t sense anything odd; the omnipresent feeling of darkness came with time. However, even then, Taehyung would dismiss all the strange occurrences happening inside the house.

He had never been one to get scared easily, so a round of floor creaking or cold spots didn’t really impress him.

On the 17th of April, his girlfriend, Chanmi, slept over for the first time, and it was chilling.

According to her testimony, after their steamy sex session, she felt as if being watched. Later on that night, when they were sleeping, cuddling under the sheets, she heard distinctive steps downstairs.

Frightened, suspecting it was a burglar, she shook Taehyung awake, yet the moment he opened his eyes, the noise stopped. Complete undisturbed silence. To Taehyung, Chanmi seemed paranoid (and not accustomed to new surroundings), but he loved her dearly and checked the house, calming her.

Although Taehyung didn’t find anything, Chanmi already knew she didn’t feel welcomed – ever since that night, she made sure they would hang out at her place. Whatever it was that she sensed – it was pure evil.

On the 23rd of June, they had a big fight, and when Chanmi came over the next day to makeup, Taehyung was already gone.

His body was discovered in the bathroom on the second floor – he was lying in the bathtub, sharp pieces of mirror protruding from his wounded body.

Chanmi screamed and fell onto her knees.

But it wasn’t the worst thing about that day – the moment she started sobbing, Taehyung’s head tilted to the side, looked at her with his dead eyes, and in a throaty voice, he growled her name.

In a matter of seconds, Chanmi got back on her feet and bolted out of the house, swearing to herself that she’d never ever return there.

Though the police suspected a murder, deep down, Chanmi knew it was the evil’s doing. She never bothered mentioning that in her official statement, knowing the cops wouldn’t believe her.

Ever since Taehyung’s tragic death, the residence belongs to the city. Despite multiple proposals, it has never been sold.

And now, it’s our cue to investigate these haunted premises.

“You’re shitting me right now, aren’t you?” Jungkook asked me, probably both crept out and impressed. My research was thorough and off-putting at once, and I was sure it partially discouraged him from participating in the exploration.

“What do you mean?”

“You’ve read that shit about the house, and you still wanna go there? What’s wrong with you? Only a psychopath can enjoy doing shit like that,” Jungkook argued, and I couldn’t find an answer right away.

I loved horror films and scary stories, mostly because I loved discrediting them and finding flaws in the storylines, and right now, I was about to do the same, but my subject was a real thing.

I didn’t have huge expectations – it was more than probable that we wouldn’t find anything, yet at the same time, it would be pretty dope to witness something strange. Jungkook shouldn’t be that worried – in the worst (best) scenario, we would get spooked by another team of amateur ghost hunters.

“Come on, Kook, grow a pair,” I started, trying to take our conversation on a less pressing level. It was just a silly ghost hunting gig, yet Jungkook sounded serious, almost as if we were going through the pros and cons of keeping a baby. “Ghost ain’t real; the scariest thing inside that house it probably bats,” I reasoned, and Jungkook agreed with a sigh.

“I guess you’re right,” Jungkook said, finally manning up for the mission. “Let’s get this shit over with,” he added when the vehicle stopped at our bus stop.

***

“So… what do you think?” I inquired when the murder house was within our eyesight; the building was spacious, and it really stood out amongst the other residences – no one could miss it. From quite a distance, you could see there was something evil about it, even the fence around the property was installed upside down, supposedly to lock the supernatural entities inside.

“It doesn’t look very welcoming if you ask me,” Jungkook started, scratching the back of his head, probably trying to come up with a good excuse to call it a day and just head over to Jiwoo’s party. “Just by the look of it, I can tell there’s something wrong about it,” he added, and I hummed in agreement.

“Are your spider-senses tingling again?” I asked, and Jungkook elbowed me lightly, not enjoying my teasing. “But for real now. Should we take a few selfies before going in?” I proposed, and Jungkook eagerly agreed, as if prolonging the inevitable reconnaissance.

Carefully, Jungkook wrapped his arm around my frame and snapped a few pictures with his phone, making sure the haunted house was standing proudly in the background. Then, he took another series of photos with my camera.

“If we’re seriously going in there, I think I need an intro for my Halloween special video, don’t you think?” Jungkook announced, pulling out his go-pro camera. After giving me a quick instruction, we started rolling.

At first, he reported what we were doing, but then, he started talking about the new segment of his channel, and my brain just froze. Although I respected his passion for gaming, I completely lost focus whenever he started blabbering about it. But honestly, I thought it was healthy for our friendship. We had a lot of things in common, yet it was a blessing to be different at some point. Whenever one of us felt a bit overwhelmed, we could engage in independent activities. For Jungkook, it was gaming – I’d never try crashing his nerdy party.

“I think we got it,” I announced when Jungkook’s mouth stopped barfing gaming jargon. “Let’s go inside.”

“Fine, but keep it in mind that if I die, I’m going to haunt your ass,” Jungkook stated, and I laughed. Right… as if this cinnamon roll could ever haunt anything.

“Puh-lease,” I retorted, trying to refrain myself from giggling. “If anything bad happened to you, you would be Kookie – the friendly ghost,” I finished, and Jungkook whined quietly, not fancying my opinion.

“Shut up,” Jungkook barked, pulling out the second fancy camera. If he were to step into that hellhole, he would gear himself up from head to toe, getting ready to catch the ghost on tape. “Let’s go in before I change my mind,” he added, as he effortlessly jumped over the fence.

“Will you help me? Not everyone has legs for days,” I mumbled as I extended my arms, so Jungkook could support me when I made my way through the first obstacle. “Thanks,” I quickly said when Jungkook grabbed me, and carefully put me on the ground.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’ve got a sexy pair of legs,” Jungkook complimented me, and though in other circumstances I’d blush, this time I ignored it, focusing on the vibration I felt in the butt pocket of my jeans.

The second I put my foot on the unholy soil, weird shit started happening.

Interesting.

My first thought was that I got a text message on my phone, but then it struck me that I always had my phone on silent mode. Quickly, I checked my cell phone, and it turned out that Siri turned itself on.

“What can I help you with?”

The device turned itself on again, but this time in my hand, when I didn’t push any buttons.

“It’s not a good sign,” Jungkook commented, and I started to second guess the brilliance behind my ingenious plan. “It’s not too late to turn around and leave. I won’t be disappointed if you chicken out,” he carried on, but I just grinned at him. There was no way I’d wimp out.

“Nice try; we’re going in,” I prompted, confidently walking toward the main entrance, Jungkook following behind me, probably shooting the surroundings.

As soon as we stepped onto the porch, the wood would start to creak underneath the pressure. Just like everything about the house, it gave off that creepy vibe.

“Showtime,” I whispered under my breath as I extended my hand and grabbed the knob. Just as expected, it was locked.

“Well… it looks like another sign to me. Let’s go back,” Jungkook spoke, trying once again to convince me to back out.

“Get a grip; we’re going in,” I ordered, and Jungkook sighed, regretting that he couldn’t say no to me. “I’m picking the lock; Betty in Riverdale does it all the time, it can’t be that difficult,” I muttered, reaching into my new fanny pack for a bobby pin.

“Are you for real? Since when anything they do in Riverdale makes any sense to you?” Jungkook wondered, but I just rolled my eyes, ignoring his mean comments. “You’re not opening that lock,” he added, making my blood boil. In times of crisis, Jungkook wasn’t very supportive.

“Just shut up, I almost got it,” I barked, sticking my tongue out, adjusting myself to my ultimate focus form, ignoring Jungkook and his shenanigans. Not only he showed me no support, but also he pulled out the small bottle of booze and took a gulp, without proposing me some.

“Just deal with it. We won’t get inside,” Jungkook teased again, pissing me off, and then leaning in, literally breathing on my neck.

“I really hate you right now,” I yelled at him as I straightened up, dropping my bobby pin in the process. “It was my only one,” I whined, kicking in doors in frustration, and to my surprise, it swung wide open.

“Ladies first?” Jungkook murmured, smiling sheepishly, moving aside.

“How gentlemanly of you,” I tsked, turning on the flashlight before entering the building. “I’m pretty sure you’re going to edit your video, deceiving people into thinking you’re a real macho man,” I complained, inspecting the foyer.

Nothing out of the ordinary. For now.

“I’ve got chills,” I stated matter-of-factly when the silence inside the house started to bother me. Though I didn’t believe in ghosts, for some stupid reasons, my heart rate quickened. I felt uneasy, and when I heard my voice echo across the room, I felt less crept out. “Which room should we check out first?”

“When I listened to you on the bus, all of them sounded awful,” Jungkook honestly answered while shedding some light around the living room. “If got rid of all the dust, it’d look pretty comfy,” he added, and I snorted, not expecting him to give me such a nonchalant comment.

Unfortunately, it seemed I was the jittery one.

Well… fuck.

“How about we check out Ouija board in Namjoon’s study,” I proposed, and Jungkook hummed in agreement.

“Maybe there’s still some blood left. You said it was pretty messy,” Jungkook added in excitement, making me wonder how the hell he did a 180 so fast. Not even two minutes ago, he acted like an adorable sacredly cat, but right now, he seemed confident enough to roundhouse kick all the demons back to hell.

“I doubt so, but it’s worth checking,” I answered, and we both headed to the east wing of the house, navigating toward Namjoon’s office. “It may sound ridiculous, but I’m getting horny,” I confessed, and Jungkook stopped in his tracks, gawking at me, not expecting such revelation.

“I knew you wouldn’t resist my manly charms,” Jungkook murmured cockily, wiggling his eyebrow suggestively. “I knew you would fall for me eventually.”

“Right… I’d rather believe a sex demon just possessed me,” I retorted, and for some reason, Jungkook didn’t find it funny. Come on, it was hilarious! “OK, I guess you’re kinda hot right now,” I gave in, unwillingly stroking his ego.

Not my fault, he was just irresistible.

“I knew it,” Jungkook cheered right before when we finally found the right room. This was it – the first space to be “properly” investigated.

Putting the flashlights on the desk, we set the Ouija board on the floor, sitting across from each other.

“Do you know how to use it?” Jungkook inquired, and I smiled sheepishly, telling him I knew bits and pieces, though I had absolutely no idea if my knowledge was legit since it all was based on multiple horror films I had seen. “I’ll check it online,” he proposed and pulled out his phone, quickly typing his inquiry into Google’s search tab. “Whoa, the signal here is no joke; I have a better connection than I have at my apartment. How expensive is this house again?”

“You’re really dumb, you know…”

“You love me regardless, so I don’t really care,” Jungkook absentmindedly replied while browsing through the answers. “OK, it’s easy.”

Briefly, Jungkook explained the ceremony. Apparently, the horror movies didn’t get everything wrong.

Unfortunately, the spirits inside Namjoon’s study weren’t chatty – during our session, they only edged the planchette toward the numbers 9 and 4 (the date of Namjoon’s settlement), yet I didn’t put much thought to it. Jungkook was probably moving it to scare me, and I wasn’t going to give him that satisfaction.

“You know what? It’s not as exciting as I thought it would,” I started when we were collecting our stuff, getting ready to explore another room. For the majority of the time, nothing was happening. We were sitting just sitting in darkness, waiting for something to give us a real spook.

Later, we headed towards the second floor. The stairs were creaking as we made our way up, but we didn’t pay much attention to it, being too focused on locating the bathroom to actually think about basic safety.

The bathroom looked terrifying; the tiles inside were dirty, the original color already fading. The facilities were covered in rust and probably making a lot of unnecessary noises.

“Give me your flashlight,” Jungkook ordered as he put both torches on the edge of the bathtub, one of which switched on. “If there’s something that wants to communicate with us, turn the right one on, and turn off the left one,” Jungkook spoke loudly, waiting for the lights to change, and after some time one did.

“It was definitely a ghost,” I exclaimed in fake dread, bursting out laughing a second later. “It’s solid evidence; it’s confirmed – ghosts are real,” I added, and Jungkook joined me, chuckling adorably. “You can’t change my mind.”

“If it’s you, Taehyung, tell us what happened to you,” Jungkook carried on, and I grew silent, waiting for the ghost to reach out to us. “We don’t want to hurt you; we just want to know the truth. Who killed you?”

Silence.

“Come on, Taehyung. We don’t have all night; we’ve got places to be,” I urged the ghost in a taunting manner, hoping for something to finally happen. With each passing second, our expedition seemed more and more disappointing, and though I didn’t believe in ghosts, I’d really liked to be proven wrong.

“You’re weak sauce, Taehyung!” Jungkook mocked, reaching for the flashlights, wanting to explore another active part of the house – the basement. “You had your chance, Taehyung, and you blew it.”

We quickly left the bathroom and headed to the basement, yet just before we entered the room, I hesitated.

“Maybe we should investigate the basement individually,” I proposed, and Jungkook bit the inner side of his cheek, pondering over my suggestion.

“Fine, let’s do this,” Jungkook agreed with a sigh. “Do you want me to go first?”

“Whatever.” I shrugged, and Jungkook pulled out the spirit box, a little bit excited to use it for the first time. “Go get ’em, tiger.” I patted Jungkook on the back, and closed the doors behind him. “You’ve got ten minutes.”

The stairs creaked when Jungkook was walking down. For a while, it was oddly silent, but then I heard the loud white noise, and I knew Jungkook finally turned the device on.

While he was down there, I roamed around the ground floor, taking a few extra selfies. Unfortunately, regardless of the flashlight, it was still dark as fuck, and I was sure none of the taken photos were Instagram-worthy.

Ten minutes passed, yet Jungkook still didn’t get out.

“You can come out now,” I shouted, but I got no reply from Jungkook.

This fucker was messing with me. I knew him too well not to understand what he was trying to do. However, I wouldn’t give him that satisfaction. He wanted to scare me shitless, but he would never succeed.

Confidently, I swung the doors open and made my way downstairs.

“Have you found anything?” I asked when I noticed Jungkook standing in the corner of the room, facing the walls.

“Nope, it was boring as fuck.”

“OK, it’s my turn. Give me the spirit box,” I spoke eagerly, waiting for Jungkook to give me the gear. He survived the individual session with ghosts, so there was nothing to be afraid of. If ghouls didn’t eat Jungkook’s cute butt, I doubted they would be after mine.

“Good luck,” Jungkook murmured and leaned in, pressing a delicate kiss against my forehead before running upstairs.

OK. What the fuck?

With a slam, I was left alone in the basement, and frankly, right now, I didn’t give two shits about ghosts. What the fuck was that? Jungkook and I never showed any affection for one another. The most intimate interaction we had ever had was elbowing each other.

We didn’t kiss.

Never.

Not even an indirect kiss.

All the wires in my brain were frying. A whole army of ghosts might’ve jumped out of nowhere, and I wouldn’t give two shits about them. What the hell was Jungkook’s deal? Why did he do that?

Regardless of how much I desired to find evidence on ghosts, right now, my mind wasn’t in the right place. Thoughts of Jungkook, of how much I tried to not act on my attraction toward him, how I wanted him to make a move – they completely took over my sanity.

A full-body apparition might’ve as well started reciting Great Gatsby, and I wouldn’t notice it probably.

Trying to leave that horrifying train of thoughts, I shook my head. I needed to get a grip. Tonight was about ghosts, not about Jungkook.

Promptly, I turned on the spirit box, starling at how loud it roared to life.

Except for one beam of light coming out of my flashlight, it was entirely dark, and the white noise emitted by the device made the scene even more terrifying. I would undoubtedly faint if I didn’t like this dreadful atmosphere.

“Is anyone here?” I asked and looked around – everything seemed ordinary. Well… as ordinary as an abandoned house’s basement could be.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

“What the fuck was that?” I jerked my head to the side, staring at the device in my hand. It sounded like a male voice, yet I couldn’t quite comprehend the words. “Can you repeat that? You have to speak more clearly,” I spoke, refraining from face-palming myself.

What the hell was I thinking, talking to ghosts?

I must’ve really lost my mind.

“Behind.”

Once again, I jerked my head, furrowing my eyebrows. It really sounded like the word behind, so obviously, I turned around, checking if there’s something, in fact, behind me.

There wasn’t.

“I have to hear more than just one word,” I declared, focusing on the noise, ready to pick up another message. For a long while, the white noise was ringing in my ears, but then I heard something which sounded like my name.

[UNINTELLIGIBLE]

Jungkook’s gonna love my footage, I wondered upon hearing these strange noises. Maybe it is not groundbreaking evidence, but it surely will be thrilling to watch. Jungkook’s followers will love the new content.

“You find me.”

“Oh my God, this is awesome,” I cheered enthusiastically, and though I was having the time of my life, it was time to take the fun to the next level. “Who am I talking to? What’s your name?”

“Kim.”

“That was an instant answer,” I commented, feeling goosebumps on my skin.

Much to my dismay, it was the last coherent response I got; I sat there alone in the darkness and received only a few unintelligible reads. So much for ghost hunting… I thought, ready to leave the basement.

Checking the time on my phone, I realized I had two more minutes, and though it was pointless to reach out to ghosts at this point, I decided to record my useless commentary. Maybe Jungkook would use my witty monologue as a part of his YouTube clip, or if not, he’d have a good laugh when analyzing all the footage from this night.

“So… I’ve been sitting in the darkness for a while, and no ghost dared to give me a spook. It’s such a disappointment, really. These ghosts here are real wimps; I lured Jungkook inside this basement, and this may come as a big shocker to everyone, but nothing really happened to him –“

[BANG!]

Quickly, I turned my head around, trying to locate the source of the strange noise; it sounded as if it was coming from under the stairs, yet I quickly dismissed the disturbance – it must’ve been a rat or something.

Clearly, it wasn’t a ghost.

“As I was saying… this house is a complete bummer. When we first arrived, the house looked really nerve-racking, but when we actually started exploring it, it let us down. Honestly, the scariest part of this expedition probably was when Jungkook failed to prank me.”

“Your time is up,” having opened the doors, Jungkook hollered. “I’m going down there,” he added, and I turned around, giving Jungkook a chance to record my grand exit on tape.

“I’m getting outta here, ghosts. You are a bunch of wimps!”

“Did you just seriously mock the ghosts?” Jungkook asked, giggling adorably.

“Why not? It’s not like they’re going to kill me for calling them out.”

“Should we leave now? I’d stay for a little longer and recorded some weird random shit. What do you think?”

“It’s definitely gonna piss these ghosts, so I am in.”

At first, Jungkook insisted I record him dance a few Fortnite choreographies, and though I had no clue what he was doing, I kept the camera rolling. Then, I turned music on my phone, and we jammed to old K-POP hits like Super Junior’s Bonamana, SHINEE’s Lucifer, f(x)’s Electric Shock, and many others.

Then Jungkook made me record his beatbox performance, and it was torture. However, there was a silver lining – it helped me determine whether ghosts were real or not. The answer was no – no one would endure it.

And if it wasn’t for my crush on him, I’d definitely not endure it either.

Later that evening, Jungkook gave a short instruction video on how to defend oneself with basic taekwondo moves, and then we thumb-wrestled.

“You know what would really piss the ghosts off?” Jungkook inquired, and I wondered what else his one brain cell came up with since I highly doubted if it could get any dumber than it already had.

“I don’t know… what else would really piss the ghosts off?” I answered, having no idea what we could do to outdo ourselves. Everything that we had done for the past hour was already offensive as fuck.

“Isn’t it absolutely the worst when you’re in a public place, minding your business when you walk past a couple making out right in front of you?”

“It is absolutely the worst, but how is it any relevant?” I asked, cocking my eyebrow in confusion. Jungkook was right, making out openly in public was rude, and obnoxious, and one of my biggest pet peeves, yet I highly doubted the ghosts had the same hierarchy of irritating situations. They’re dead, and they can haunt people without any consequences – that’s pretty dope itself, and I just couldn’t understand why it would be their top bête noire.

“Well… it’s not completely irrelevant, and besides, ever since you’ve mentioned you’re horny, I really wanted to kiss you,” Jungkook confessed, and my jaw dropped at the revelation. Jungkook wanted to do what!?

“Well… you just played yourself,” I stated, and Jungkook creased his forehead in confusion. “Is that a confession you’ve just recorded? I bet you want to record our kiss, too. That’s kinky, and weirdly enough, it turns me on a little bit,” I finished my thought, and then Jungkook smiled widely at me, figuratively lighting up the rundown basement which we were still in.

“Well… now you just really have to kiss me,” Jungkook retorted, and I smiled mischievously, curious of how he’s going to play his cards now, “unless you want me to show your parents a video of you confessing to your kinks.”

“Well… you should’ve waited a little bit longer, maybe I would’ve named all the other kinks I’m into,” I challenged, biting my bottom lip seductively. “If you really want our first kiss to be in this shabby, totally not haunted basement, then go for it,” I consented, waiting for him to approach me and knock the air out of my lungs with a world-shattering kiss.

“It’s not perfect, it’s not exactly what you deserve, but it will be a hell of a story to tell our grandchildren one day. Don’t you think?”

“I think you’re getting a little bit ahead of yourself,” I retorted, chuckling. Jungkook was acting ridiculous, and it was adorable. With his cute smile and firm butt, he could get away with anything. “Just kiss me, you idiot.”

At first, I expected him to say something cringe-worthy like m’lady or alrighty, but thankfully, I was wrong. With one long stride, Jungkook approached me, resting his large hand on my hips before leaning in to kiss me.

The kiss was sensual and soft, and the way I had always imagined. Gently, Jungkook pressed his plump lips against mine, and we just moved, basking in pleasure. His hand was roaming over my back and butt, whereas mine was going through his silky hair, tousling it.

Gradually, it grew in passion. Jungkook pulled me closer against him, and I opened my mouth, inviting his tongue. Though it was only one kiss, it was quickly making me thirsty for more.

It felt blissful, yet it came to an abrupt stop when we heard a loud bang upstairs.

“Well… you were right, it obviously pissed someone off,” I whispered, chuckling.

“What do you think it was?” Jungkook asked, concerned about the strange noise. “It sounded as if someone just slammed the doors shut,” Jungkook stated, and I quickly agreed with him.

“But we left the doors closed, didn’t we?” I wondered, trying to remember our previous actions. Neither one of us was perfectly sober, yet I was pretty sure we did close the doors. “OMG, this is awesome! It was probably another group of adrenaline-seeking people! We could give them the spook of their life if we jumped out of the basement,” I explained, and I was sure I wasn’t perfectly sober right now either.

“It was probably the wind, but okay, let’s do this,” although knowing it was a stupid idea, Jungkook agreed to conduct my improvised prank.

Carefully, we made our way upstairs, yet when we jumped out of our hideaway, there was nobody there.

“Stupid wind,” I murmured under my breath, really bummed out by this whole situation. “Fuck you, you stupid house. You’ve wasted our time,” I hollered at nothing in particular as I approached the doors and pulled the knob. “Jungkook, it won’t open,” I announced, taking a step to the side, letting Jungkook’s strength to let us out.

Seriously, what kind of an estate agent would try to sell this house without repairing it first? At this point, only people from these HGTV shows would consider buying it, so they could later sell it with real profit.

At first, the doors didn’t want to budge either, but then he handed me his camera and roundhouse-kicked the doors open.

Whoever locked the doors, be it the wind, the ghost, or anyone else, Jungkook’s thick thighs were more powerful.

“Let’s get out of here,” Jungkook said as he grabbed my hand and led me outside, leaving the creepy though definitely not haunted house behind us.

***

Although the navigation system on my phone estimated our route to take us forty-five minutes on foot, Jungkook and I made that distance under half an hour. The house was creepy, but we were already late for Jiwoo’s party, and we didn’t want to face her wrath.

She had called me three times, and Jungkook and I lived in a universe where three missed calls from Jiwoo were more terrifying than fifty from mom.

When we reached Jiwoo’s house, we tried knocking on the doors, but unfortunately for us, everybody was already in a good mood. They couldn’t hear the knocks due to loud music, and I couldn’t be angry – it was our punishment for arriving so late.

Thankfully, when we walked the house around, the patio doors were open, so we got inside.

The house was packed with people, yet I was familiar with only a few of them – the majority of guests were Jiwoo’s college friends, and I haven’t yet acquainted them. In the kitchen, I saw Mario and Luigi, and I instantly knew it was Yoongi and Hoseok. Each year they have adorable couple costumes.

“Look who’s finally showed up,” I heard a loud voice from over the stairs, leading to the second floor. It was Daphne, closely followed by Fred.

“I guess Daphne and Fred just checked the bedroom,” I told Jungkook, and he chuckled, getting the reference. “I hope they didn’t find any ghosts.”

“I bet Scooby and Shaggy are already eaten by the ghost in the basement,” Jungkook carried on, and we both started to laugh.

“Your costumes are in my bedroom, but before you change, I have to feed us some jello shots,” Jiwoo started, making us follow her to the kitchen. “In which bushes were you two fucking, so you came so late?” She questioned, but Jungkook and I didn’t know how to reply. Jiwoo was unpredictable – she would either scold us for going to that house without her, or just shout at us for being reckless and irresponsible, but I guess it was her role in our friend circle.

She was the mom friend.

“We weren’t fucking,” I protested quickly, trying to buy us some time to get a better excuse for our late arrival. “If we were indeed fucking, we would be here before anyone else,” I joked, yet Jungkook didn’t find it particularly funny.

It didn’t worry me, though. Jungkook and I dissed each other daily, he wasn’t going to pout. If anything, he was plotting how to get his revenge.

“Well… true,” Jiwoo replied as she high-fived me. “Don’t worry, Kookie. I’m just messing with you,” she added, and I nodded, knowing she was extra mean to impress Jimin. Retorts weren’t her strongest suit, but so far, it was okay.

Jiwoo distributed the jello shots among the four of us, and to my surprise, they weren’t as strong as I had expected them to be. She had made them, and it came to me as a shock, then the proportions weren’t fifty-fifty.

“Oh my God, I just noticed you both have matching costumes. What a coincidence!” Jungkook hollered, faking his surprise, taking  revenge on Jiwoo.

“What can I say? Great minds think alike,” Jiwoo quickly retorted before Jungkook managed to embarrass her in front of her crush.

“Some things are just meant to be,” Jimin added, draping his arm over Jiwoo’s shoulder, making me and Jungkook gag. What the hell had we missed?!

We had totally wasted our time in that haunted house – we could have been here, watching their relationship develop in front of our eyes! Though I had no regrets after reaming around that disappointing trip to that house, now I had one regret. I was genuinely upset that I missed witnessing how the line between their friendship and love faded away.

“OK, you know what? Go upstairs and change. You disgust me without your costumes on,” Jiwoo ordered, shooing us upstairs.

Obediently, we headed to her bedroom, finding our costumes on her bed.

“I’m so tired,” I announced as I plopped down onto her bed, wanting to get some rest. The march from one location to another was more exhausting than I had initially thought, and my legs were killing me.

“Well… it’s all your fault, I told to we should call an Uber,” Jungkook replied, lying on the bed next to me. “No slacking,” Jungkook hollered, playfully slapping my butt. “If we don’t get downstairs in a few minutes, Jiwoo’s gonna bust in here and complain how we ruin her party.”

“True,” I agreed, and with a loud groan, I stood up to get changed. “And that reminds me. You’ve never told me what you’re dressing as this year,” I spoke, wondering what was inside the bag which was sitting next to my costume.

“I didn’t have time to come up with anything, so I asked Jimin to lend me his costume from last year. He was Jack Sparrow or something,” he explained, and I watched him unpacking the bag.

“Or something it is,” I started when I saw what his costume consisted of. It was basically a deep-cut white shirt, a pair of tight leather trousers, and a hat. “Good luck with fitting into it,” I snickered, wondering how uncomfortable it’s going to look like on his powerful thighs.

“Why don’t you shut up,” Jungkook said, not pleased with my commentary.

In silence, we got dressed, and since my costume wasn’t revealing, I could quickly put it on my clothes, which gave me plenty of time to gawk at Jungkook.

“I feel like a piece of meat, right now,” Jungkook commented, as he caught me staring at him, zipping his trousers. “Can you stop staring at me like that? I’m a person with feelings, not a sex toy.”

“Now you know how all girls in clubs feel,” I retorted and continued to stare at him shamelessly. Right now, I only needed a bucket of popcorn and a few bills which I could put under the hem of his pants.

“Aren’t you going to put that creepy make-up?”

“I was going to, but I don’t have energy nor patience to do that,” I answered lazily, watching him button his shirt. “Besides, I checked myself in the mirror, and I’m rocking that Mary-Eunice look right now,” I added, and Jungkook agreed, approving my American Horror Story costume.

“You know what? Even when you wear that ridiculous nun costume, I would still fuck you,” Jungkook blatantly confessed, and I giggled, not knowing how to react to this odd compliment. “I really must be wrapped around your little finger. You even made me go to that abandoned house.”

“You make me blush,” I admitted shyly before approaching him. Then, standing on my toes, I pecked his lips innocently. “We better go downstairs, Jiwoo must be furious at us for taking so long,” I added, exiting the room, leaving Jungkook speechless behind me.

Though at first, we were too tired to party hard, Jimin and Jiwoo engaged us in a few drinking games, and I was thankful I managed to bullshit myself out of playing truth and dare with them.

I realized what Jiwoo would make me do or confess, and I’d rather Jungkook find it out in different, more private, circumstances.

Around three a.m., people slowly started to get tired, one by one heading upstairs to either fuck each other’s brains out or simply find an empty bed to sleep in. At that time, Jungkook and I were chilling in the kitchen, munching on the food which other guests had the courtesy of leaving.

“We should go on a date on Saturday,” Jungkook proposed, and I looked him in the eyes, nodding my head. “What do you want to do on our first date?” He asked, leaning against the countertop next to me.

“Is there any chance you’re wearing this outfit on our first date?” I asked, and Jungkook quickly shook his head. I teased him all night about this outfit, and by now, he must’ve dreamed about taking it off at least a dozen times. Best case scenario: taking it off right in front of already naked me.

“Nope, stare at me while you still can,” Jungkook said, and I didn’t dare to question his decision. Though he looked like a snack, I respected his choice. He wasn’t going to wear it again, and I wasn’t going to force him. Besides, I was kind of curious about how he looked naked. “So… what do you want to do on Saturday? Bowling? A candlelight supper? Cinema?”

“I was gonna say that anything is fine as long as it’s with you, but would you really prepare a candlelight supper for me?” I questioned, quite amazed by his proposition. Jungkook rarely cooked himself, and even if he happened to whip something up in the kitchen, it would be ramen or something just as easy to make.

“Of course, anything,” Jungkook promised, and I tried my very best right not to kiss him. “It probably won’t be any tasty, but at least, I made it with my hands.”

Oh, screw it.

Instantly, I pulled him closer, smashing my lips against his. The moment he realized what I was doing, he reciprocated the kiss.

“I don’t really care,” I spoke, wrapping my legs around his hips. “Oh, shit,” I cursed upon noticing Jiwoo and pushed Jungkook away.

“I think everybody’s asleep already, what are you guys still doing here?” She asked, eyeing the both of us.

“Nothing, we were just eating,” I stated, though Jiwoo didn’t fully believe in my innocent reply. “What have you been up to? Your green scarf is gone, and you have a hickey on your neck. Have you had fun with Jimin?” I inquired, and she looked away in embarrassment.

Jiwoo had never been to shy away, but she didn’t act like herself around Jimin. When with him, she became a better person, and right now, she was blushing. It was the first time when I saw her behaving like that, and I liked it.

With Jimin by her side, Jiwoo was slowly turning in the best version of herself, and the transition was crystal clear. Even Jungkook wouldn’t miss it.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow; right now, I just want to clean up and go to bed,” Jiwoo said, and I knew it was our cue to live. I didn’t like cleaning, and I knew Jiwoo wouldn’t appreciate my help. She would prefer Jimin’s assistance. “You’re sleeping in the guest room with Yoongi and Hoseok.”

“Thanks,” I replied, and we slowly headed to the guest room, knowing that Jimin would shortly join Jiwoo. They thought they were subtle, but they really weren’t. One look was enough, and Jungkook and I knew everything.

“I hope Yoongi and Hoseok already fucked each other,” Jungkook stated before we entered our room, and I agreed. I wouldn’t like to walk on them fucking. I just wanted to lie down and get some sleep.

***

On Friday, I focused only on myself. I needed to recover fully after a long night of drinking, but also, I wanted to pamper myself a little bit before my date with Jungkook. I was sure he was going to prepare everything to perfection, like the golden boy he has always been, and it only made sense that his girlfriend (me) also ought to be perfect.

I took a long, relaxing bath, I wore a face mask, I ate plenty of fruit, I planned my next week of college, I even turned on the relatively new drama with Ji Changwook, and whipped up a mug of cocoa with marshmallows.

The day was peaceful, and I cherished every second of it before I had to face reality and go to classes on Monday.

In the evening, I even chatted with Jiwoo, listening to a few newest rumors. I didn’t expect her to have any time to spare, but apparently, to her, gossip was more important than her new boyfriend. Good thing she had her priorities set straight.

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | omg you won’t believe it!

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | I know why Seulgi and Irene didn’t come

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | apparently

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:21 | they were on a date yesterday!

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:22 | Chanyeol told Jimin that Jongin were their Uber driver and he took them to a fancy restaurant

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:22 | I was gonna get really mad

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:23 | but I ship them so hard

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:23 | I mean…

That crazy Capricorn girl |17:23 | fucking finally

Jiwoo wasn’t ashamed of double texting, obviously. If she had gossip to deliver, she would spam anyone until she would get a reply, and frankly, it never upset me. Mostly because I was texting the same way.

Me | 17:25 | told you

Me | 17:25| I knew they had hots for each other

Me | 17:26 | you should be glad they didn’t come

Me | 17:26 | they probably fucked all night long

Me | 17:27 | that would be gross if they did it at your place

Me | 17:27 | it’s enough that Jungkook and I walked on Yoongi and Hoseok

Me | 17:28 | if it was my house I’d kick them out

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:30 | they did what????

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:31 | are you kidding me???

That crazy Capricorn girl |17:31 | so Jimin lied to me

Me | 17:32 | wow

Me | 17:32 | you started dating and he’s already lying

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:33 | Jimin told me they behaved well

Me | 17:34 | pls don’t make a scene

Me | 17:35 | you better let them taste their own medicine

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:35 | I knew I shouldn’t have invited them

That crazy Capricorn girl | 17:35 | they’re cute but also horny af

With Jiwoo, when we started texting, we didn’t know how to stop. Topics would come and go, and we would always come up with something new. This night wasn’t any different. When we discussed everyone’s behavior during the party, late changing the subject to the people who couldn’t make it. Then, we would exchange messages about the newest K-POP hits, scandals, and dramas. Sometimes, we would even send memes to one another.

Usually, we would continue our conversation until one of us was tired and went to sleep, but tonight a bizarre text from Jungkook made me finish.

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:41 | come over

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:41 | now

Well… rude.

We didn’t even go on our first date yet, and he treated me like a booty call.

No, it couldn’t be.

Me | 21:42 | what do you mean???

Me | 21:42 | Jeon Jungkook

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:42 | get your juicy ass over here

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:43 | asap

Cutie Goo Baby Kook | 21:43 | you need to see something

What the hell did he want? Couldn’t he wait until tomorrow to meet me? If he wanted to see me, he could just text me like he a regular person. He didn’t have to act like an asshole about it.

Me | 21:45 | fine

Me | 21:45 | I’ll be in thrity

Me | 21:46 | if it’s your dick that I need to see you’re dead

***

Within thirty minutes, I was at Jungkook’s apartment, breathing heavily. His flat was located on the fourth floor, and the elevator was out of order, and whenever I had to take the stairs, I could feel blood on my tongue.

It wouldn’t hurt me that much to tag along once in a while to the gym with Kook. Well… hopefully.

“What’s the emergency?” I asked instantly when Jungkook swung the doors open. “Jungkook, I swear, if it’s a booty call, I’m gonna be pissed,” I warned him when Jungkook grabbed my wrist and yanked me inside.

“No, it’s nothing like that,” Jungkook reassured me as he led me to his bedroom.

Well… he might’ve said it wasn’t a booty call, yet his actions were giving me a totally different message. He was literally dragging me to his bedroom.

“What is going on?” I asked once again, as he made me sit in his gaming chair.

“So… I was editing the footage we recorded at this creepy house, and I found some weird shit,” he started before he leaned against the desk, looking for the right file to show me. “I watched every frame of these tapes, and there’s something seriously wrong with your individual session in the basement.”

“What do you mean by wrong? Can you be more specific? I didn’t feel nor see anything weird when I was down there,” I said, cocking my eyebrows up in utter confusion. Was there something my eye didn’t catch, but the camera did?

“Well… there is like a shadow lingering above you,” Jungkook confessed, and I fought the urge to laugh into his face. It was a shadow, and shadows do linger. “You don’t seem convinced, so why don’t you see for yourself?”

“Ugh, fine,” I answered, focusing on the screen.

I couldn’t believe my own eyes. Jungkook was right. It lasted for a couple of seconds; there was an irregular black specter behind me, and it couldn’t be my shadow – I was perfectly still while it moved for a while, and then disappeared.

It was terrifying.

“I’m speechless.”

Seeing my reaction, Jungkook sat on the edge of the desk and grabbed my hand.

“I know it looks like something supernatural, but I’m pretty sure it can be explained somehow. Don’t worry; all fellow ghost hunters would discredit this evidence in seconds.”

“I’m not worried; I don’t know what I’m feeling, but it’s not worry,” I spoke, still a little shook about the discovery. “Did you find anything else when editing?” I inquired, wondering if Jungkook had more aces up his sleeve.

“Nothing solid,” he declared with a sigh. “I was listening to the messages picked up by the spirit box, and one statement which you assumed unintelligible sounds like not alone, but once again, it’s not perfectly clear. It’s probably just my mind interpreting the white noise.”

“Too bad ghosts ain’t real. If we caught it on tape, we would be millionaires,” I confessed, and Jungkook nodded.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think we’ve gathered a lot of entertaining footage; my viewers are going to love it. It’s probably the dumbest video I’ve ever recorded,” Jungkook spoke, and I started to grin.

He was right – we were a great duo.

“Glad, I could help,” I answered proudly, boasting about my recording skills. Having tooted my own horn for an inappropriate amount of time, I inquired, “Since I’m already here, what do you want to do?”

“How about we cuddle?” Jungkook proposed, plopping on his bed, waiting for me to join him, and since his proposition was irresistible, I obediently lay down beside him, resting my head on his firm chest. “Mm… it’s so comfy,” Jungkook purred as he wrapped his arms tightly around me.

“Have you decided where you’re taking me tomorrow?” I inquired, curious as hell about our date. Knowing Jungkook and how perfect he was at everything he did, I could only guess he would exceed my wildest expectations.

“How is it gonna sound if I tell you I’ve already had it planned out for a while?” Jungkook confessed, and I giggled when he started to press delicate kisses across my neck. It was ticklish, but I liked being teased like that.

“Is there a chance you tell me? You know I hate surprises,” I spoke, turning around on my side, caressing Jungkook’s chest and abs. Jungkook smiled adorably and shook his head. Damn it. “Is there a chance I can guess it?” I tried a different approach, but Jungkook shook his head once again.

“You’ll find out tomorrow,” Jungkook said, and I pouted.

“Is there a chance I can convince you to tell me now?” I challenged him, and before he managed to shake his head again, I sat astride on his muscular thighs, making him speechless. “You can tell me. I can pretend I’m surprised tomorrow,” I urged him, playfully moving my hips against his crotch. Curiosity was in my nature, and Jungkook was really getting under my skin with his stubbornness.

“You’re cute when you’re frustrated,” Jungkook stated before he effortlessly flipped us over, pinning me down to the mattress. “I’d love to push you to your limits, but I’m not ruining the surprise.”

“Come on, Jungkook. You can tell me. We’re best friends, and we don’t keep secrets from each other,” I carelessly mumbled until Jungkook shut me up with a passionate kiss, reminding me that we no longer were just best friends.

With my eyes closed, I gave in entirely, letting Jungkook’s hands roam all over my body. Our mouths moved in sweet harmony while my body writhed beneath him every time his little touches set my skin on fire.

This moment was magical, and I wished every time with Jungkook to be just as good. His smooth and soft movements made my body respond, leaving me breathless and craving for me whenever it lost contact with his hands.

“I really want to fuck you right now,” Jungkook absentmindedly confessed while he was pressing sensual kisses along my chin. “We should wait, shouldn’t we?” I inquired, and I wanted to shout my objection.

Judging by his boner digging into my thigh, he also wanted me to oppose.

“You should’ve thought about it before you kissed me like that,” I replied, and Jungkook smirked, tugging my blouse out of my jeans, slipping his large hands on my bare stomach, slowly making his way up to my breasts. “It’s too late to go back, lover boy,” I added, undoing the buttons of my blouse.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Drop dead,” I corrected him, and Jungkook hummed in agreement, his eyes focused on my cleavage, wondering how my breasts bounce. Arching my back, I wrapped my hands around Jungkook’s hips, pressing them against me, making me feel his throbbing cock.

“You won’t be a good girl, will you?” Jungkook asked me, and I bit my lip, shaking my head, hoping he expected such an answer. “Of course, you won’t. Why did I even ask?” Jungkook smirked, playfully nibbling my delicate skin all over my cleavage, while his hand undid the button of my jeans.

“You always assume the worst when it comes to me,” I reminded him, tugging the hem of his T-shirt, wanting to get rid of it. It wasn’t fair – I was almost half-naked while Jungkook was still fully-clothed. “Take it off, I’m losing my patience,” I ordered, and Jungkook quickly pulled his T-shirt over his head, tossing in on the floor. “Jeans, too,” I added, and with an angry growl, Jungkook stood up and discarded his pants as well.

“Happy?” Jungkook asked, standing in front of me only in a pair of boxers.

“Over the moon,” I retorted, and Jungkook smirked as a playful idea crossed his mind. “What are you thinking about?” I questioned uncertainly, but Jungkook didn’t bother to reply. He just leaned forward, slid his fingers under the hem of my jeans, and pulled them down in one fluid motion.

“You make me impatient,” he confessed, and I kneeled on the bed, waiting for him to join me again. I needed him to kiss every inch of my body.

Right now.

“Come here,” I urged him, and he obediently sat on the bed, allowing me to sit astride on him again. “I wanna fuck you like this,” I blurted out, entwining my fingers behind Jungkook’s neck, pulling him closer into another heated kiss.

“I want you to fuck me like this,” Jungkook whispered when we finally parted. “Just jump on it and ride me until I come,” he said before reaching to his night stand for a condom. “Roll it down for me, will you?”

Obediently, I pulled Jungkook’s boxers down, and smeared the pre-cum all over his thick cock before putting a condom.

“I wanted it for so long,” Jungkook whispered when I raised my hips, slowly getting seated on his length. Though Jungkook didn’t go down on me before I took his cock, I didn’t mind it. It stung a little, but I enjoyed this sensation.

“Fuck yeah,” I moaned when I slid down his length all the way to the base. For a short while, neither of us moved, letting one another get used to it. “You stretch me up so fine,” I muttered, gently rolling my hips.

“Move, princess,” Jungkook urged me, and I began to ride him. At first, my actions were delicate and a little shy, but as soon as I relaxed, I picked up the pace, rocking my hips back and forth, making Jungkook moan loudly.

“I love it when men are vocal,” I confessed when I put my hands in his hair, tugging it slightly when I happened to fall out of my rhythm. “It gets me off much faster,” I added, and as if I challenged him, Jungkook moaned again.

“Good to know; now I gotta use this information to my advantage,” Jungkook whimpered with a soft smirk upon his face. “You love hearing my deep moans, don’t you?” Jungkook asked, and I replied in a heartbeat.

“Yes!” I exclaimed when Jungkook began thrusting his hips from underneath, shoving his cock deeper and deeper inside of me. “Ahh… Jung-Jungkook, keep fucking me like that, please, don’t stop,” I begged, and Jungkook even increased his pace, quickly making me overwhelmed in pleasure.

“Your pussy feels so good,” Jungkook started, and I closed my eyes, feeling my orgasm approaching. With a couple of thrusts, I would come around his pulsating cock, and I couldn’t wait to welcome this blissful feeling. “So tight, yet you take my fat cock so well,” he praised, and I pulled his hair when he made me come.

“Fuck, Jungkook, that was amazing,” I praised him, and Jungkook kept ramming his dick inside of me, chasing his own release. His stamina was no joke, and I was feeling lucky because this incredible man was mine.

“Shit, shit, shit, I’m coming.” Shortly after me, Jungkook reached his orgasm, milking the condom with his jizz. “You’re out of this world,” Jungkook whispered before he wrapped his arms around me tightly, kissing me deeply.

We were both sticky with sweat, and we smelled like sex, but right now, I couldn’t care any less. Jungkook and I were floating in heaven.

“We should do it again in the morning,” Jungkook proposed, and I laughed, realizing it was the first time in my life I was actually excited to wake up early.

Unfortunately, our plans fell through.

Before my arrival, Jungkook had uploaded our Halloween clip into his YouTube channel, and then, Jimin forwarded it to Jiwoo.

Needless to say, Jiwoo blew up my inbox with notifications, furious at me and Jungkook for doing something so reckless shit without her supervision. Once again, she was the mom friend, and going into an abandoned house without her knowing was pure evil.

Thankfully, she didn’t hold a grudge for a long time – she grew pretty soft on us as soon as she discovered Jungkook and I were well… dating.

[chrsitophwaltz]

MICKEY MEETS FC BAYERN (PART 4/4)

for the entire houston clownery experience click here

psa: if you’ve read the last 3 parts, then you know the drill. i just wanna add that i don’t know how coherent this is bc writing it drained me already. i typed it straight from my garbage brain so this is obviously NOT SAFE FOR WORK. if you’re brave or thirsty enough, or have holy water at the ready, then by all means please proceed.

*matthew mcconaughey voice* alright alright alright

we’ve reached the end, folks! it’s taken me longer than i thought to put this part out. mainly because my brain still can’t comprehend that this actually happened. y’all know that feeling where something happened and you just floated right through it then a few hours later when you’re all alone it hits and destroys you like a fucking trainwreck?

yeah, that’s what it’s been like.

so to recap:

friday: the team arrived. i was positioned nicely near the bus exit and my mind, body, and soul had been buzzing and ready for that moment. i had it all well-rehearsed too: niko steps out, i scream like a banshee for his name, he comes over-- with soft hair and glorious stubble and all-- to sign my shirt and take a gazillion pics. oh, and of course i try not to faint or drool all over him. it was almost fullproof. the problem? he never stepped out. he and thiago went straight to the airport for a press conference and were never in the team bus. i was ready to unleash death right then and there.

but oh well. all hope isn’t lost. i’m gonna be five rows behind the bayern bench the next day during the game anyway. got the tickets within an hour or so after sales opened. i can thirst to my heart’s content over him and his beautiful backside for two hours. and i had this huge ass sign ready, asking for his bottle. it’s bigger and brighter than my life. he CANNOT possibly miss that, right?

saturday: game day! i’ve been buzzing the entire morning and early afternoon. today’s the day! my first time inside a football (american) stadium too. and i was kinda nervous about my sign’s debut too. what if he does see it and give me his bottle? what would i do? do i manage to keep cool or do i smash it right into my eye socket in front of him? until now i still don’t know

so we go down to the stadium. my sign was getting some attention too. people, bayern fans and madridies alike, stopped me and asked what it meant (i had to sheepishly explain to random people that yes, i am indeed asking for his bottle, and no, y’all don’t wanna know why). some guy even got it on his video camera but idk what he did with it sjdfdjkfdjkfsfs

i got settled into my seat and h o l y s h i t i was so close to the pitch and the bench! all the drama? i got it! all the shirt-changing action? i got em too! and all the angry niko antics??? best believe they’re seared into my mind forever and ever!!!!

(dare i say, with full risk of sounding like a downright whore, the man’s got real juicy buns in the back oven. like, fuck me!!!! he’s fit as fucking fuck!!!!!!!! he also loves to whistle and scream instructions and mouth off to hansi on the bench. oh, and to randomly thrust his hips like nobody’s fuckin business!!!!!!!!)

(srsly niko, why do that???? GET OFF MY DAMN NECK!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!! my 17-year old sister was beside me and i had to be 110% a responsible, sane adult!!!!!!! even the guy sitting behind us eventually caught on to my thirst since he saw me filming niko the whole duration of the game sddbsjfdjfnsm)

anyway, niko LOVES to hydrate and he probably finished around 4-5 bottles of water. at one point he looked over at where i was and i’m sure as h e l l he saw my sign (it was a huge ass board). but guess what? it’s like he knew just how desperate i was and kept on sexily chugging. god fucking dammit, niko!!!!

y’all know what happened to all those bottles? NOTHING! they’re just piled up on the bench never to be used again. i was right there, niko! A CRUMB! just one fuckin crumb was all i asked for!!!!!!!!!!!! he could’ve thrown that bottle straight at my fuckin face and i would’ve THANKED him

the game ended, we won, and NO BOTTLE. a bitch was sad!!! a bitch was going STIR CRAZY!!!!! the team only had one day left before they left for kansas city. i’ve been trying to get info on how to get into the practice session so i can see him and all the boys. but of course! the training session might as well be in secret because it’s invite-only!!! even the paulaner bbq event was closed. the only events that were open were the mall meet-and-greets. but those wouldn’t have niko or the rest of the boys in them.

please bear in mind again that i decided to shell out extra just to make that one day extension happen. 

i had to see the entire team. i needed to experience niko up close. if i don’t get to do this now, then god knows when i’ll get the chance to do so again.

so, driven by desperation, i made a totally uninformed decision to go to the hotel at some random time the next day. ultimately, it was either the hotel or the carl lewis track. i figured the hotel would be a safer bet since i’d been there before and it was closer to the mall where the meet-and-greets would be (just in case the worst happened and i failed to catch them before they left for practice or wherever).

hotel or track? hotel.

what time? probably 8:30.

did i know what i was doing? absolutely fucking not.

but hey, couldn’t hurt, right? it was bonkers. truly bananas. but what choice did i have? in the end, i just wanted to be able to tell myself that i tried.

sunday:

i’ve been thinking about what to call this part. here’s some of what comes to mind:

1. crazy binch follows crazy idea and it works? it’s more likely than you think!

2. if you like it (i LOVED it) then you should’ve put a ring on it (I MCFUCKIN DID!!!!! in my head at least sksdjfksdfsdfh)

3. the day kathleen krüger probably wanted my head on a spike (and i don’t blame her)!

so the events from parts 1 and 2 happened. saw and greeted kathleen krüger in decent german. it was going pretty well. somewhere in there, during the sven/leon mishap, it finally happened. the moment that i’ve been waiting for. perfection!

*record scratch* eh, not really.

look, i’m 5′3 (and 1/2, i’m gonna insist on that). leon is 6′2. sven is about 6′3 or 6′4? anyway, y’all get it. they’re tall af.

and niko? a very sexy 5′9.

so in the haze of mortification and embarrassment brought about by the sven/leon mishap, i completely missed niko going out of the hotel. the binch literally had to be positioned in between sven and leon and all the other tall german people milling around the hotel. my ass had been on alert for him nearly the entire week (and let’s be real, for months) and when the moment finally presented itself, it completely flew over my head. i nearly ruined my own damn plan.

thankfully though, i’d been chatting with the bayern staff earlier and they knew that i’d been waiting this whole time to meet niko. i wondered out loud, “ugh, when is niko gonna show up he’s usually one of the earlier ones” and the guy in the red audi fcb tour polo shirt frowned and said “what? he literally just went out. didn’t you see him?”

my world literally stopped. i wanted to slap myself. my ears were ringing.

niko, already out? how could i have missed him? had he already gone up the bus???

i literally did a 360 so fast i gave myself whiplash and saw through the glass doors the man i’d been waiting forever for. he was clad in his blue coach kit of shirt and shorts. i could also swear he was glowing like an angel (probably bc of the bright sun or the product of my thirst-addled brain, idk).

there was another problem, though: he wasn’t stopping. he was going straight for the bus. and his leggies were f a s t.

and where was i? still frozen in shock inside the freaking hotel!!!!

i’m not the fastest person in the world but man, adrenaline really does work wonders! thank goodness my brain chose that moment to regain its function and spurred my body into motion. with no fucks left to give, i ran full tilt through the throng of people leisurely heading out, past the security guards who looked at me like i was insane (i was), out of the hotel and into the courtyard where there were about 50 or so fans behind the barriers who had gathered to catch a glimpse of the team.

it was like everything was in slow-mo. there was kathleen, patiently standing near the bus door and taking inventory of the players and staff before they leave. and there was niko, with literally one foot lifted to go up the first step into the bus.

my brain did a quick calculation. even with adrenaline, he’d already be up and inside the bus by the time i get to where he was. they may have let me inside the hotel, but i knew the bus was off limits. i had to stop him before he’s out of reach. and i knew that if i missed him, then that would be the absolute last time i’d see him in houston. that was my last chance.

i already had one foot dipped into the proverbial pool of shame. i was vaguely aware that i had the hotel staff stationed near the door and some fans looking at me bc of my marathon sprint antic. why not just take the full plunge, right?

so i did the only thing i could do to stop him: i screamed for him. throat open, full diaphragm, lungs out screamed: “NIKO! NIKO PLEASE!” my voice and the desperation that it was absolutely dripping with echoed within the walls of the hotel entrance.

i don’t even know the others’ reaction to that anymore, and i don’t really wanna know. all i know was that it worked! he stopped and turned around to look. and god was he. so. beautiful!!!

overjoyed that he paused, i ran straight towards him. there was a body in front of me that i barely dodged in my haste and i belatedly realized it was the team photographer taking shots of the departure. i nearly bowled him over and destroyed his expensive camera but thankfully i somehow managed to do a the matrix-esque maneuver and ducked under his arms and up again straight back to niko. the look on my face must’ve been shocking and horrific (i bet) because as i zoomed in on niko, i saw poor kathleen just behind him, still near the bus door, go tense with her eyes as big as saucers.

look, i understand. if i were the team manager of a popular football team, and some woman was running straight for one of my charges, with A Certain Look on her face, and with the bus door wide open, i’d be worried af. she probably thought i was gonna attack niko (somewhat true, but not in the way she thought...or was it?) and/or infiltrate the team bus. my intentions were pure (ish), of course, but my face didn’t reflect that.

the Queen knew martial arts and could’ve karate-kicked me off the face of the earth and away from niko, but she didn’t. so thank you, kathleen. and i apologize.

safe from kathleen’s wrath (for now), i turned my full attention to niko. i was finally in front of him!!!!! my dream had finally come true!!!!!!!!!!!

my brain and my soul were trying to leave my body and i wasn’t really 100% percent in the moment, but even with the little presence of mind i had left it was too much to bear. niko looked a bit perplexed, like i might attack him or something (with the way i looked, ran, and shouted like an animal i totally get it), but still managed to look relaxed, open, and friendly. he looked at me expectantly and i felt my mouth move to ask for an autograph and my hands give him my cardboarded jersey and sharpie. i wasn’t in control of my body anymore but thank god it knew exactly what i wanted.

niko, a true angel sent down from the heavens above, gracefully took my shirt and sharpie. i’m pretty sure my mouth was wide open and probably had some drool hanging off, and i could feel kathleen’s stare boring holes into the side of my head. as he was signing it, my last few brain cells were roasting.

his hair was soft and ungelled, and was damp (he looked like he recently just came out of the shower) and as his head was bent down, That Stray Lock of Hair flopped into his forehead. it nearly made me pass tf out!!! the sun was also shining brightly and his stubble was already silvery (thanks to bayern’s season of clownery!) so when the light caught it, it literally shone. each strand was literally p e r f e c t i o n. perfect length, perfect texture (from the looks of it; i didn’t dare touch no matter how much i wanted to bc thankfully i still had one fragile shred of dignity left, and i’m sure kathleen would’ve brought out the shotgun), perfect everything. i was about to have a coronary right then and there.

i’ve thought a lot about what i wanted to say to him if i did get the chance to meet him and talk to him. i remembered all the highs and lows of last season and as he finished signing my shirt, i thanked him and said “good luck, niko. and don’t listen to everything they say; you’ll always have people to stand behind you and the team no matter what.” at least that’s what i thought i said. i don’t really remember bc i was half spaced out. but i must’ve said something to that effect bc he looked up from what he was doing and gave me a big, and dare i say, relieved (?), smile. god, his eyes. they were so green. and soft. and really, really kind.

he was probably surprised that i said that to him, what with my earlier crazed stunt. but of course, ever the gentleman, he said “thank you so much” G O D!!!! HIS ACCENT!!!!! if you haven’t heard him speak in english yet, or just speak at all, now’s the time to google that shit. it’s deadly af on video, but goddamn, like everything else about him in person, it’s truly something else live.

mercifully, when he gave me back my shirt and pen, i still had enough life left in me to ask for a picture before i finally passed out. i never would’ve forgiven myself if i forgot!!!

me: thanks again, niko. is it alright if we take a picture?

niko: sure, of course! (god i love him; also, he loves to say “of course” for some reason sjkdhfdfjsdkfh)

so i had my shirt and sharpie in my left hand, and was trying to work my phone with my right hand. niko sidled up real close to my left side and HOLY FUCKING SHIT. he was so warm. and his arm was f i r m. he was leaning really close and my brain was short-circuiting from trying to memorize every single detail and trying to work my phone camera.

(note: my lock screen is niko drenched in beer after they won the bundesliga. thankfully, i turned off my phone’s auto lock just the night before. imagine if he saw me trying to unlock my phone with his wet self plastered on my screen. i never would’ve survived the shame.)

as i was skin on skin with niko, my organs were literally failing. my hands were shaking and sweating, and my camera just. wouldn’t. set. on. photo. it went to video, to slow mo, to god knows what else. it was already getting embarrassing and i was mumbling apologies to niko bc i was sure i’d already taken more than enough of his time. and i haven’t forgotten that kathleen was still there! still staring at us, at me, and witnessing every single mortifying thing!!!!

niko, literally heaven itself incarnate, was so patient though and just chuckled. oh. fuck. me. his chuckle. y’all know his voice is deep af, right? and you know that certain r a s p that comes with it. well, fuck. he did this deep ass raspy chuckle that went straight down to my loins!!!!! christ on a bike!!!! my inner whore was literally about to jump out!!!!! i’ve fantasized about hearing it in person for so long but jesus fucking christ I WASN’T READY. ALL THIS TIME AND MY BODY STILL WASN’T READY!!!! AND I’M DAMN SURE IT WILL NEVER BE READY!!!!!!!!! NO ONE IS READY FOR THIS ATTACK!!!!!!!!

g o d. anyway, he finally took pity on me. he chuckled (i’m on the brink of death here!!!) and reached for my phone to help me take the goddamn photo. he set it on photo (freaking finally, thanks niko) and we posed for the photo. hell, he was so close again. while i tried to smile and look somehow decent, i just had to take away as much detail as i could before we parted.

1. i already said this, but his h a i r. so soft. and houston was freaking humid. while mine was literally about to turn into a bird’s nest from the humidity, the man just couldn’t look fugly if he tried!!! he literally had NO FRIZZ. damn niko, tell me your secret!

2. his stubble was SO CLOSE. every strand? PERFECTION. no words could adequately describe it. and holy shit, his jawline and cheekbones. if i touched it i could literally lacerate my goddamn hand. and he had no pores??? fucking sexy cryptid

3. his c h u c k l e (he wasn’t chuckling anymore, but that shit stays with you till the end of time)

4. HIS S C E N T.

okay. i have a scent kink. i know. TMI. like this whole write up is one big banner for too much fuckin information. but holy shit. HOLY S H I T. until now i still don’t know how to fully describe, and i probably never will succeed in fully conveying what it was truly like (and if my brain embellished some of it; i was really too far gone to know anything anymore), but fuck. f u c k. he wasn’t wearing perfume or cologne, i’m sure of that. nothing too artificial that stood out to my nostrils. probably bc they were going to train under the houston sun and spritzing was wasted and unnecessary. but remember that he was fresh from the shower, so that was basically his main scent. it was very nice, very crisp, very clean. basically, sexy as hell. classy. panty-melting!!!! hell, i don’t know!!!! you know what i mean!!! idk if it’s from the hotel toiletries (if it was, good job post oak hotel!) or if it’s his own (then i need to know niko! what products do you use???). but yeah. clean and crisp. d***y supreme.

and there was also something else. it must’ve been his natural scent. and god. GOD!!!! a bit woodsy (?) and quite sweet. i’ll stop there before i say something that REALLY crosses the line.

so my thumb moves, and we take the photo. ONE FREAKING PHOTO. that’s all i managed. i wasn’t able to look at it until my uber ride to the mall later on, and i really would’ve liked more to take with me and stare at when i’m....lonely. but it was magically HDR, and i looked passable. and niko. again: perfection!!!! now that i know what he’s like in the flesh, nothing else will ever come close. but this does come quite close.

after the photo was taken, i manage to squeak out another “thanks.” niko smiled again (kill me one last time, why don’t you) and squeezed my arm lightly before saying goodbye and finally going up the bus. kathleen could breathe a sigh of relief now.

i don’t know how long i stood there. surely not that long since i still got to take pics with serge, manu, and lewy. but it did feel like forever and i haven’t shaken myself out of it. as i’m writing this, exactly one week later after it happened, i still haven’t shaken myself out of it. i don’t think i ever could.

i’m just thankful to whichever deity made this happen. my houston trip was finally complete (i haven’t met everyone yet at that point, but i just somehow knew deep inside that it would all work out). i got what i came for and more. my extension was not only worth it, but completely priceless. i’ll treasure this whole day and that little moment i got with niko for the rest of my life. that’s for sure.

just to end this, i just wanna say something. i know this was one whole crazy and thirsty post, but seriously. he’s a really nice man. a good man. it wasn’t for more than a few minutes at most, but it felt like forever in my mind. and in that short moment, i just knew he tries his best. i’m a true blue niko stan but even i know he made mistakes. i’m clearheaded enough to acknowledge that. but he tries, and he succeeded. and no matter how calm and cool and collected he always appears to be, you can still see how much it all affects him. hell, he literally grayed in front of our eyes in less than a year. his eyes were a little less bright at the end of the season as compared to his presentation last july. when i gave him that little message of support, i literally saw the relief in his eyes and how much he appreciated it. he and the team have been through quite the ordeal last season, and there are no guarantees it will be easier this time around.

you don’t have to like him, you know. but please. a little basic human respect still goes a long way.

there, i said my piece. and it’s done! thank you, fc bayern, for being so nice and game and all-around wonderful. thank you, kathleen krüger, for staying calm long enough to let me have my moment with niko. and thank you, niko, just for being... you. now here’s the ONE picture i’ll treasure for the rest of my life:

[suhoerections]

OH MY GOD THIS BLOG TURNED 1 ON THE 21ST AND I FORGOT ASKDJFHASJKF BUT HAPPY BIRTHDAY SUHOERECTIONS AND EVERYONE WHO FOLLOWS I’M GONNA GO ON A RANT ABOUT MY MUTUALS UNDER THE READ MORE TAG OKAY BUT BASICALLY I LOVE ALL OF MY FOLLOWERS AND THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR MAKING THIS YEAR SO INCREDIBLE <3333

also shout out to all my followers i’m not mutuals with but enjoy my content and reblog/like my work, I really appreciate yall, keep up the good work you’re all beautiful

okay this isn’t in any particular order i’m just going off who i remember and i’m trying to not miss anyone so if i do feel free to call me out and also i’m sorry if i don’t write as much for some people asdfjkhasd

@ninibears-erigom

okay look,,, you’re literally such an amazing person and the reason why i didn’t straight up deactivate in january like you helped me so much during that time and also through so much other stuff and I’m so thankful for you,, you’re one of the most realist and most amazing people I’ve ever met. I love you so much you’re literally the best mother i could have ever asked for like i want to squeeze the life out of you god. I seriously cannot express how much i love and appreciate you like?? I’m tearing up writing this because you’re literally one of the most amazing people to walk this Earth like??? and even though i’m a shit head and i spam you with ‘ayla’ 20 times just to tell you i did a good shit,,, you still love me?? also like you’re literally the reason i write???? that sounds so dumb but you’re seriously my muse,, i genuinely look upto you as a person because you’re so strong, wonderful, amazing, genuine, beautiful, sweet, caring, kind and that’s all i can think of off the top of my head. I love you so much and I have to cut this short cause i’m gonna feel bad cause i wrote so much asdkjfh but you’re amazing and i swear if you say otherwise i’ll eat all the lactose in the world (i cried writing this stfu) also you are nini’s cheek spreader :>> 

@thesoondongiefiles

You’re like?? my literal best friend?? and probably one of the best people i’ve met on this hell site,, i really don’t regret randomly messaging you “hey i need aussie friends” asdkjfh but fr i love you so much and you’ve been with me through thick and thin and i really appreciate it so much like you’re so amazing and kind and your art is actually so beautiful like you’re such an amazing person you don’t even know the start of it you dummy. I love how we can be ourselves around each other even though we haven’t known each other the longest but still, you’re my favorite soondongie and i love you so much man,, like we talk so much you’ve literally just become the older sister i never had and i really appreciate that like man idek what to write cause i just really appreciate you,, you’re just amazing and i love you very much and i hope we can meet one day cause you’re not that far away from me and i really love you ehehe 

@chanyeolol

KUKI MY FREAKING CHILD I LOVE YOU AND HELL YOU’RE SO AMAZING OMGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG idek kuks you’re just the best and you’re like the first mutual i made on this hellsite and damn you’re also like the best?? like i love how hyperactive you are you dummy you keep me on my toes and i love talking with you even if it takes me days to reply on instagram (sorry i’m barely active there askdjfh) but fr i love you very much and i really appreciate you and you’re so freaking BEAUTIFUL and i’ll bop you on the head if you say otherwise you dummy i love you

@letsmakeitforever

FUY MY GOD like i pray to you everyday smh i love you,,, like you’re amazing and cute and like you’re so NICE jesus christ i want to hug the shit out of you,, you’re sweet as fuck and istg you’re just great?? and i love that i can talk to you about sucking Jungkook’s dick cause like almost all my mutuals don’t stan bts so its nice to have an army friend,, i also really appreciate you and the support you’ve shown me and i always try and send you asks but i never know if they get through because my tumblr likes to fuck up but bottom line is i think you’re literally one of the most amazing people akjsdfha

@kyungseokie

OH BOY HERE COMES A TRAIN WRECK,, dia,, my child,, i love you very much and you always make me DIE with those freaking things where you just cut the conversation short and go “hey junmyeon would fuck you in a change room” LIKE JESUS CHRIST LET ME BREATHE but at the same time i sorta just drop like ksoo bombs as well so aksjdfhkj i guess its fair hehe but seriously!!! i love sharing ideas with you cause you’re literally so creative and you’re so amazing and have such a way with words like your writing is so magnificent no one can compare like you’re a poet with words akjsdfhkajs and you’re such a sweetheart too?? like i could write a whole ass page filled with positive words to describe you because you’re so beautiful and sweet and kind like gosH you’re such an amazing person i love you very much <33

@heonythighs

well howdy partner welcome to ram ranch askdfjhds gosh the horniest cowboy ever, 10/10 commentary, you’re amazing to converse with cause you’re just greaT and like idk you’re just super fun to talk to?? like i always laugh my ass off when we converse cause you’re a comedic genIUS i swear and you’re also the horniest chanyeol stan i’ve ever met oh god asdkfhasdkj but you’re jsut a really fun person and you’re also so amazing in general like fr fr your cowboy hat should have a label on it that says “i’m the best cowboy fuck all you bitches” like ugH i love you you’re so cool and just so chill i hope you have a fun time at ram ranch with your cowboys

@byunfirstlady

LAURE LOOK NOT TO PLAY FAVORITES BUT YOU’RE MY FAVORITE MUTUAL I LOVE YOU SO MUCH ASDKFJHAS like idek how to describe it but i could write so much about how much of an amazing person you are like you’re so cute and sweet and you always tag me in stuff (i need to tag you in more bbh adkjfh) but you’re such an artist like your work is so amazing!! i always feel so inspired by your work and it never fails to make me write!! you’re also the sweetest person on this site and your tags make me  c r y   like Laure you’re just so beautiful and sweet and i just combust because you’re so adorable,,, i want to hug you you’re so amazing and you’re so sweet ugh i could go on forever about this because you’re such a cutie i swear and you’re so fun to talk to as well like i really like discussing my fic ideas with you, especially the bbh series i’m writing askdjfh anyways i better stop before i take up a whole thing of why i love you so much you’re adorable <333

@flowerline8

ugh my number 1 nini stan !!!! i love writing nini stuff for you because you’re just so amazing and i love your tags they always make me smile,, you’re also adorable and funny to talk with and you’re also super beautiful ??? like i think its illegal how beautiful you are btw like its just the law,,, you’re under arrest for being too beautiful, sweet and kind. Like ugh Pauline you’re so sweet i want to hug you bc you’re so sweet but then again you’re so chaotic it makes me laugh adskfjhas like idek how to describe it but its so funny but fr fr you’re so sweet and you deserve everything <33

@fairyyeols

SIENNA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY OTHER MOTHER!!!!!!!!!!! gosh what a hoe i love you akdsfjhasjk you’re also too sweet like >:(( call me cute again i dare you like YOU’RE the cute one in this relationship smh,,, pcy agrees kdfak but ugh you’re just so nice i swear to the lord above god was making you in his little bowl and accidentally dropped all the sweetness in your mix cause you’re just so sweet omg,, like Enna you’re so amazing and your writing!!!! *chef kiss* exquisite just like you. You’re also hella funny??? like you’re sweet AND funny like that’s not fair, you’ve gotta have something else bad about you but no! cause guess what! YOU’RE ALSO SO BEAUTIFUL WTH!?!?! so you’re beautiful, literally the sweetest person alive, funny as and am an amazing author,,, like you’re too perfect for this world,,, you’re such an amazing person i hope you get everything you ever want <33

@multi-yeol

GRACE AKJDSFHKSJ i remember the first time we talked was such a mess jesus christ you’re so chaotic i love it and gosh you’re also so beautiful, funny and amazing?? like you’re gonna look at this and go ‘no i’m not’ but you are just saying asdkjf you’re so sweet and like a genuinely good person??????? like how can you be both that and super freaking beautfiul??? my tiny brain can’t comprehend your amazing-ness,, you deserve the whole freaking world you sweetheart asdfhkdh 

@cbxtual

Hope, my fellow weeb,,, we don’t talk as much but i do miss it! you’re funny and a great friend and i really miss all the times we’d say dumb shit with grace in the group chat aksjdfhak you’re also really funny and like?? idk you’re just great in general?? like your writing,,, god tier,,, your personality,,,, amazing,,, your looks,,,,, beautiful,,,, like Hope, you’re the full package man ugh and I HOPE you have a great time hehehe (sorry i couldn’t help myself) akdsjfhas but i’m still writing that yoongi fluff for you its just buried under all my other wips but i will get around to it adsfkjah

@naminalati

all i have to say is you’re the kindest person to ever exist and we haven’t talked much so i can’t really say a lot sorry but you’re just so kind and sweet?? like you’re the literal definition of a sweetheart and you’re the cutest person i’ve ever witnessed <33 I hope you have an amazing day because i really appreciate you and you’re just so amazing and beautiful and i have no idea how long you’ve been following me but you’ve been there for ages and i appreciate it 

@abunnycotton @khelmatic @yayitsjay @k-pop-trashx 

OKAY so i’ve never talked to any of yall but like !!!!! i see yalll in my activity a lot and i just want you to know that i really love and appreciate you all because you’re all beautiful sweethearts who deserve the world, thank you

[emybain]

After Archenemies 2/?

A sister has decided to continue whatever this is. I have loose plans for this, and idk how good it is bc im not dedicating as much time to it as my own personal projects. im just doing this for fun, so I hope y’all enjoy! Here is the link to the first part! and here is a link to a one shot I wrote that is literally all fluff

“Nightmare tried to save you?” Oscar’s eyes bulged. “The chick took down Frostbite’s entire team and neutralized all of them except for Stingray. Not to mention that she’s an Anarchist, you know, the worst enemy of the Renegades.” He raised a finger. “Also, side note, how the hell did she come into possession of Agent N? That stuff hasn't even been revealed to the public yet.”

“I stole Genissa’s powers,” Max reminded them, glaring. “But Nightmare made her do it. She knocked her out when Genissa refused to give her powers to me to help me.”

“But why?” Adrian muttered. “Max, Ace told me in the catacombs that Nightmare is his niece." Adrian saw Ruby nod in agreement from beside him. “Clearly, she knows who you are and what you can do. That means she must know that it was you who took Ace Anarchy’s powers from him ten years ago. If anything, she would want revenge on you the most.” His voice had dropped so low that he wondered if the others could comprehend his words. It stung, how Nightmare could have such motives against an innocent kid, but it was the truth. The fact that, according to Max, she had tried to save him was unfathomable.

“I don’t know.” Max shrugged feebly, although there was a hesitation to his voice, as though he was hiding something. Adrian bit the inside of his cheek. “That’s just what I can remember.” His eyes became droopy suddenly, and he leaned back against the pillows.

“We should go,” Ruby piped up, offering a smile. She grabbed both Oscar and Adrian by their arms. Adrian notice Oscar jolt at the contact. “Max is still recovering, and he needs his rest.” When Max started to protest, she tsked. “Nope. We actually have to go...fill out some forms. And with Danna still in swarm mode, we have to help her. C’mon, guys.” It was a lame excuse, but she tugged at Adrian and Oscar, who followed her. They all chorused a goodbye to Max, who returned it with a grumpy voice.

“The more we learn about this chick, the more confused I get,” Oscar muttered once they were out of earshot of Max’s quarantine. “Not to mention that she seems to have a lot against your family, Adrian. I mean, first with your dad, then that thing about your mom, then your own little rivalry, and now Max.” Oscar shook his head.

“Very strange,” Ruby agreed. The three of them paused at the elevator. Oscar pressed the down button. “And what Oscar said earlier brings up a whole new mystery: How does she have Agent N?”

Adrian was quiet, even as they stepped into the elevator. Finally, he spoke, once the elevator started moving. “She’s immune to Max as well, like she knew about his powers.” A thought moved to the front of his brain. A terrible, horrible, but believable thought. One that sent a chill down his arms. One look at Ruby and Oscar told him that they must have been thinking the same thing.

“I think Nightmare is a Renegade.”

“Nightmare? A Renegade?” Simon shook his head in disbelief as he added seasoning to the pot in front of him, filled with chili. Hugh, who was assembling a salad, barked out a laugh.

“Out of all your theories, that’s my favorite one,” he said, mixing in a vinaigrette. Upon seeing Adrian’s unamused visage, however, the grin plastered on his face disappeared. He cleared his throat. “Adrian, the probability of that is slim. The system looks into every single record of every Renegade, and fingerprints are taken to ensure that they aren’t in our list of criminals before trials. None of the fingerprints or records match up with Nightmare.”

Adrian resisted the urge to groan. He tapped his fingers against the countertop restlessly. “She’s Ace Anarchy’s niece,” which got him a knowing nod. This information had been brought to them immediately following Ace Anarchy’s arrest. “Which means,” Adrian continued, frustrated, “that someone with blood relations to him could be in the system, right?”

His dads exchanged glances. Never a good sign. Simon was the one to speak. “We would have been notified long ago if that was the case, and she would be in our custody.”

“Also,” Hugh added, holding a finger up, ”Ace Anarchy has no known living family. From our records, his parents passed away years ago, he never married, and his only brother and his family is dead, killed during the Age of Anarchy. Nightmare may be working for him, but it is highly unlikely that she is his blood related niece. It’s more likely that he took her in and she called him uncle.”

“How do you know all of that?” Adrian’s eyebrows shot up, and he perked up in interest. This was new to him. Maybe something he could use for investigation.

“You have to know your enemy.” Hugh shrugged simply.

“Okay...then how do you explain how she was able to use gas bombs filled with Agent N to take out Frostbite’s team?” Adrian pressed, leaning on the counter. “The public doesn’t know about it yet, so how does she? And Max. She was immune to Max, right? How do you explain that if Max’s power is confidential?”

Hugh started taking out bowls and silverware and glasses for the three of them. He sighed. “We’ve been discussing that with the Council, actually. Adrian, listen, after everything she did that night, she’s at the top of our wanted list. We’re doing everything we can to catch her. We want her brought to justice just as much as you, but we have to do it the right way. This is our job to worry about, not yours.”

“Max said Nightmare tried to save his life,” Adrian said suddenly, sitting up straight. Simon paused his stirring; Hugh paused from arranging the table.

“What?” Simon raised an eyebrow, blinking.

“Nightmare tried to save Max,” Adrian slowly repeated.

“That’s...very hard to believe, Adrian.” Hugh stroked his chin in contemplation. “Even coming from Max. He’s been drugged up for two weeks now on medication. You can’t trust everything he says. Just last week he told me that the color yellow tastes like chicken.”

“He was pretty awake today.” Adrian shrugged, not sure what to do. They had a point. He just wanted to be right. “He also said that it was Frostbite who stabbed him. It was on accident, of course.”    

“That’s a very serious accusation.” Simon turned off the stove. “Unfortunately, we have no surveillance footage of that night, or we would have evidence. Genissa Clark is in no mental state to be questioned right now, nor are the rest of her team. They are very upset and shaken from their fight with Nightmare. It would be disrespectful to harass them with questions.”

“I know,” Adrian grumbled. Genissa’s entire team was currently in bi weekly therapy sessions after the aftermath of the night of the gala. Their fates had yet to be decided by the council: whether or not they could still be Renegades despite all but one having been stripped of their powers. Adrian knew that it was horrible that they were neutralized, but secretly, he was glad they were no longer prodigies. None of them deserved the title of Renegade, especially after they killed Hawthorne and put it on the Sentinel, Adrian’s secret alias.

“Now, as for the Nightmare Being a Renegade conspiracy theory.” Hugh leaned back against the sink, arms crossed. Adrian could tell that his dad wanted to end the conversation. “It is highly impossible that Nightmare has gotten through the system and is a Renegade. We can’t answer all of your questions right now though, Adrian, because we are as stumped as you. We do know, however, that she is very dangerous and cannot be underestimated, especially with the knowledge that she is connected to Ace Anarchy on more than an ally level, that perhaps he was her mentor.”

“We made the mistake of not prioritizing her before, and we won’t make the same mistake twice,” Simon added, nodding as he poured hot chili into three bowls.

“You were so sure about the helmet, and look what happened.” Adrian waved a hand in front of him, growing annoyed with his dads, as much as he hated it. “Nightmare was able to break the box and take the helmet. Yet another mystery.”

Both of his dads sighed. Adrian could feel the frustration and tension on both sides. “Adrian, you need to be able to trust that we are handling the situation.” When Adrian opened his mouth to protest, Simon shushed him. “Neither of us want to hear anything more about Nightmare tonight, understand? You need to let it go.”

Biting the inside of his cheek, Adrian grumbled out a “yes”. He kept his mouth shut through dinner, letting his dads talk about their day and about the latest TV show they were watching.

Adrian wasn’t going to talk about Nightmare anymore, but he had an investigation he needed to start.

[7-obsessions]

Chooser of the Slain

October 16th, 1998

It’s hard to identify when and in what order things occurred in my life. I think I have most of the memories, but it’s like somebody dumped all of them into a bowl and whisked vigorously before pouring them back into my head. I only have bits and pieces connected so far, a giant puzzle of my own life, but none of the sides seem to match anymore. Sometimes I question if I contain other people’s puzzles in my brain—it would explain why I can’t understand who I am…was.

I should probably be more concerned about the state of my mind than I am right now. It’s hard to be concerned about anything here though. I’m not sure where here is either…or how I got here…or when I came. It doesn’t really matter though. I like it here. I figure, with more time here I might begin to piece together some of the answers to my questions. All the same, if I can’t find answers, I don’t think I’d mind.

Guard talks to me. I haven’t really seen anyone else, but he speaks as if I will be meeting someone important soon. He never mentions names though. I’m vaguely aware of the fact that names should be important, but here everyone is referred to by what they do. Guard guards me. I don’t do anything yet, so he doesn’t really call me anything. He says he thinks I might get a title at some point in the near future. I wonder what my name used to be. I try to ask Guard his real name, or about what’s outside of this place, or if he used to exist in the world the same way that I think I did, but then he leaves my room and I no longer have anyone to talk to. I’ve mostly stopped bringing up stuff like that, I like talking to Guard.

Talking to Guard is one of the few things I do in this place. I have a decent sized room with a sinfully comfortable bed, a small table and bookshelves on the wall. Most of the books are written in languages I’ve never seen and cannot begin to comprehend. Yet, when I hold certain books, I get flashes of what I think are memories. Did I used to know these words? A few of the books I can read, but they are about things I don’t really understand at all. I still find myself reading them, because I have little else to do and they might be the only thing that brings me the answers I seek. Beyond the books, the room is basically barren, sterile. I’ve come to realize that the room is a scary metaphor of my life currently—filled with so much knowledge, but no understanding. Oh well, everything that goes through my brain gives me a headache most days, and I waste the days away by napping. I’ve adapted a routine of talking to Guard over meals, reading in between breakfast and lunch, and napping between lunch and dinner. I think I’d like to begin doing something more soon.

Today, Guard tells me I need to look nice and to watch my tongue. I don’t think I enjoy being told what to do, but he says it so desperately I wonder if there’s something I should be afraid of about this place. Nothing bad seems to happen here. Nothing at all seems to happen here. It’s nice, I’ve enjoyed it since I’ve been here. However, I feel the seed of restlessness beginning in the pit of my stomach. I begin to yearn for something more.

Guard exits my room after I finish breakfast and I go to search through the books for something I might be able to understand. Today a book near the bottom of one of the shelves catches my eye. It’s very plain and I don’t know why I am drawn to it, it’s a simple black leather-bound book with one barely noticeable rune etched into the spine. I pull it from the shelf and look at the cover; there is no title, but that same rune is etched onto the front as well. It feels warm in my hands and I can innately tell that there is something powerful about this book.

I open the cover and all that’s inside are blank pages. I flip through to see if there is anything written in here at all, but I am met with pristine, unblemished pages. I hold the book in my hands and one of my fingers absentmindedly traces the rune on the cover and the book grows warmer in my hands. Too warm. Hot. Searing.

“Hello, my daughter. It must finally be time.”

I heard a woman speaking, but the pain of holding the book was all I could focus on. I couldn’t seem to drop it, no matter how badly I wanted to. The voice seemed to reverberate in the room, it was more than an echo though…it was everywhere, but nowhere. The pain had spread to everywhere too. There was too much happening, I think I had collapsed onto the floor at some point.

“Help, please,” I managed to gasp out into the room. I wasn’t sure if I was hallucinating the voice or not, but even if I was maybe Guard would hear me.

“Oh, my lost daughter. I shall do so much more than help. All of the pain, all of the questions, all of that confusion, all that and more will be cleared up. You will have a greater understanding than you can dream of. I only ask one thing of you, faith my daughter. You must have faith—in me and in yourself.”

“Who are you?” the more I listened to the voice, the less present I felt. I felt myself watching the scene unfold from somewhere outside of my body, the pain staying behind as well.

“Hm. That is a hard question to answer. Most just call me The Lady. You are born of me, in a manner of speaking. However, before I give you fuller answers, you must have faith. Do you have faith, dear child?”

“I don’t know what you are asking me to have faith in. I don’t know anything right now.”

“Faith does not require you to know, only to feel.”

The way this woman…or entity…spoke was odd, yes, but oddly comforting. I found myself pushing my confusion out of my head and trying to feel. I had stopped feeling the pain from holding the book, but I was still shrouded in warmth from it. It felt like holding a cup of hot tea, or reading my favorite book, finally completing something challenging, or sleeping in with nowhere to rush off to.

“I feel it,” I said.

“Yes, my child, I knew you would. I have waited for you for so long. You are home, my Valkyrie.”

October 16th, 2002

Hermione was smart enough to know that she should consider herself lucky, in fact, that’s probably what saved her, her intelligence.

The war had been over for four and a half years, but it felt like a lifetime ago. She’d spent nearly a whole year with Harry and Ron acting like superheroes, when really, they were just kids who’d never been told no, led by adults who let them finish battles they didn’t started. They never dreamed they could lose. They never imagined what life would be like if they lost. Or even what it would be like if they won.

That’s not entirely true. Hermione had thought about it every night as they slept in that tent, she just never shared her fears with Harry or Ron. Harry though that this was his battle and it didn’t affect anyone else, but he at least was born by magical blood. Ron was a pureblood, he never had to worry. Hermione, however, had too much to worry about. Still, for all her worrying, she never thought she’d end up here.

After Harry was defeated, she served a stint in Azkaban. She was in there for a year, before she was released and became what she is now—part spy, part slave, all traitor. It happened in the dead of night, she was released on the one year anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts. Of all the people that could have come for her, Bellatrix Black, her torturer, showed up in her doorway. Hermione thought it was finally her time to die, never did she dream that it could be time for her to live and thrive again.

Now, here she was, Bellatrix’s secret informant. The public had been told she died in Azkaban from Dragonpox—nobody believed this of course, they thought she was killed to prove a point—nobody actually knew that she was alive except for Bellatrix, the unlucky few who ever saw her met a quick end. Voldemort suspected that she did not die, but could not confirm the truth. In the grand scheme of things, he cared very little for one missing or maybe dead Mudblood; he had far more crucial things to attend to while trying to run the Wizarding World. What he did care about what his missing Lieutenant, but she had been gone for three years and subtlety was not in her nature, so he had come to accept the fact that she was likely dead.  

Working together had been the oddest three years of Hermione’s life; at first she was terrified she was going to get tortured again, then Bellatrix and her had grown into a stilted camaraderie, now they were basically each other’s whole lives. Hermione knew that there was still something Bellatrix kept hidden, she never gave a full explanation on why she left Voldemort’s side and was actively plotting against him now. The best answer she got was that the Dark Lord lost sight of the ideals he claimed to fight for. But when pressed on how that led to Bella using Hermione as a spy, the answers shut down. It didn’t matter really, Bellatrix was different now and that was good enough for Hermione.

The last few weeks had been quiet, no major tasks to do, but Hermione felt a shift in the air. Something big was going to happen soon. Bellatrix had disappeared for a few days on some assignment, which was standard. But, this time when she left, she didn’t look dressed for battle, but dressed rather impressively regal.

Hermione was beginning to grow restless, pacing around the small unplottable, ever-changing location cabin. Her thoughts always drifted back to Bellatrix and how she had looked when she left three days ago. Was she actually on assignment or was she meeting somebody special? They weren’t supposed to have contact with anyone besides each other. As Hermione’s thoughts kept spiralling, she came to a horrible realization. She was jealous. But what exactly was she jealous of? Maybe it was just that she got to do something, while Hermione was going stir crazy. Or the fact that Bellatrix possibly had other people in her life, while Hermione had nobody else. It could be that Bellatrix had somebody to dress up for, while Hermione had nobody to do that for since her incredibly brief moment with Ron all those years ago. Dear Merlin, no, it couldn’t be that she wanted Bellatrix to dress that way for her—

Hermione was jolted out of her thoughts when she heard the door slam and a frantic, “Hermione?” was heard from the hallway.

“Bellatrix, how was the assignment?”

“Listen we don’t have much time to talk, but I need you to change and come with me, hurry!”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? Where are we going?” Hermione was becoming more frantic as she looked at Bella’s ashen face.

“I swear, you’ll have all the answers to all the questions you’ve been asking me for the past few years. But, I cannot be the one to give them to you. We have to meet The Lady and you must look respectable. Hermione, please, trust me.” Bellatrix pleading, that never happens, whatever was going on must be pretty serious.  

“Who’s The Lady—nevermind, it does matter because I do. I do trust you, Bella.”

Hermione dressed quickly in her nicest robes, which seemed lacking compared to Bellatrix’s ethereally beautiful, yet darkly alluring robes. She realized she had been staring at Bellatrix for too long, but when she finally met her eyes, she saw Bella looking at her in the same manner, with her slightly lidded eyes, dark and captivating.

“You...er...look great Hermione. I’m going to take you to The Lady now. It might hurt, or at least it did my first time, but it will pass.” Bellatrix held out a simple book with a rune on the cover, “trace the rune with your wand hand and hold on to me with your other.”

Hermione clung tightly to Bellatrix’s hand, comforted by her touch, the touch that had started stroking the back of Hermione’s hand with her thumb. She drew strength from this peaceful moment between them, after her afternoon of increasingly nerve-wracking thoughts about the older witch. Hermione began to trace the rune and a light erupted from it, growing in intensity and becoming all colors as it surrounded the pair of witches.

Hermione heard a soft, “oh,” from beside her, letting her know that Bella was just as entranced by what was happening. As the light became too bright to look at, Hermione squinted her eyes and felt the familiar tug of a portkey behind her navel.

“Welcome home, my children,” a resonant voice spoke to them as soon as their feet touched the ground.

“Hermione, this is The Lady,” Bellatrix spoke to Hermione, giving her hand a soft and reassuring squeeze.

“It’s an honor to meet you,” Hermione said as she curtseyed to the beautiful woman standing before them. She was taller than most humans, with long auburn hair that glittered as if spun from rubies and gold.

“I have heard much about you from my first Valkyrie, I am pleased to finally meet you,” The Lady’s voice was melodic and soothed Hermione’s nerves, even as her confusion grew.

“Valkyrie?” Hermione squeaked.

“Yes. Bellatrix, as you call her, is my first Valkyrie, my Kunna . The gods have been displeased with how things have been on Earth recently and we have all felt it necessary to intervene to bring a peace to these lands again. You have weak men seeking to become gods and ruining all the good that stands in their way. No one plays god better than a goddess. But, I have many other things to do, so I have recreated my legendary Valkyrie to stop the evil permeating here on Earth.”

“This is er...a lot to take in. So these past few years, I haven’t even been working with Bellatrix. I was broken out of Azkaban by Valkyrie...er...Kunna ,” Hermione was growing frantic, drawing her hand away from Bellatrix.

“Hermione, no, it’s not like that. It’s complicated—” The Lady held her hand up to stop Bellatrix.

“She is all of those things, dearest one. She is still Bellatrix, but I have gifted her the power of a Valkyrie, specifically Kunna’s powers. You have not been deceived, there was just some truth omitted. But today we are going to explain everything. You will have knowledge beyond your wildest dreams, my lion.”

Hermione, ever the scholar, was instantly ready to hear anything The Lady had to say. “Okay. I’m listening.”

“You have been told to call me The Lady, a common title, but who I really am is Freyja, goddess of war, magic, sexuality and wealth. To be gifted the title of Valkyrie, one must also embody those things, for all are important traits to do what I ask of them,” Hermione couldn’t help but think that there was not a better person than Bellatrix to exemplify such things, “Valkyrie are the Chooser of the Slain, they can decide who dies in battle and of those who die, who will return to Valhalla as a hero and those who will not be permitted into Valhalla. Bellatrix has been bestowed upon her the power to feel, or Kunna . She is able to feel her targets; she can access their feelings and memories in order to determine who is worthy of Valhalla and those who must be slain for the greater good,” Freyja looked deep into Hermione’s eyes at the last sentence, electric blue eyes piercing hazel.

Hermione took a moment to compose herself, feeling as if she had been stripped bare by the stare alone. She finally spoke to Bellatrix, “so you are still the Bella I know, but with some new insight that had you turn away from Voldemort. Why did you come for me though?”

“I will always remain the Bella you know, I just have other names as well, now. I came for you, because not only can I sense the worthy and the unworthy, I felt a pull to you as soon as I had come to understand who I am. I didn’t understand why I was drawn to you, but Freyja has taught me to feel and to trust in my feelings implicitly. And I am very glad that I did,” Bellatrix tucked a loose tendril of hair behind Hermione’s ears as she spoke to her.

“She could feel that you are like her, my Vita . You are another of my Valkyrie, returned to Earth.”

“No, no, no, that can’t be. I’m just me, I’m a muggleborn. I’m nobody important.”

“You have been important before meeting me and you will be important after meeting me. I do not care about things such as blood status because they are irrelevant when it comes to you. All Valkyrie are my children, maybe not biologically, but you are mine . I created you long ago and you are special and important. The moment you touched the pages of the great Yggdrasil tree, you came home to me. The book does not respond to just anyone. I imagine Bellatrix told you a little of what she experienced, great pain and extraordinary comfort; that is because she is my Kunna , my feeler. What did you experience, precious?”

“A dazzling, blinding light; it was all colors and no color at the same time. It became too intense to look at and in that moment when I closed my eyes I felt at peace,” Hermione looked up at Freyja expectantly. “There wasn’t any pain though.”

“No. You would not experience pain. You experienced true sight, my Vita . You are the seeing.”

Bellatrix slid close to Hermione once again, knowing that this overload of information would be getting to her and as she wrapped an arm around her waist, she felt Hermione relax into her. Bellatrix leaned in, whispering in her ear, “we are in this together. I know you are overwhelmed, but I am right here with you.

“What does this all mean?” Hermione asked The Lady.

“It means that since the moment you touched the runes on the book made from the Yggdrasil tree, you unlocked all the powers I have granted you. You will begin to see and perceive things about those who must be slain and those who will enter Valhalla when they have fallen. You will know their future actions, so you will always be one step ahead of them. Although you already are a wonderful host of my given attributes, you will begin to embody them more wholly. You will become a force to be reckoned with and you will have my Kunna at your side if you choose so.”

“Of course I want Bella at my side. I need her at my side,” as Hermione said this, she felt Bellatrix grab her side possessively, forging a path of heat straight to her core and up to her heart.

“Good. I am very delighted to hear this, my children. I expect wonderful things from you two. Now go, it has been a long day for you, Vita . You must rest and reflect and hone your skills. Make me proud, my Valkyries.”

October 19th, 2002

The moment Hermione and Bellatrix crossed the threshold into their cabin, Hermione was instantly weak. She sagged against Bellatrix’s lithe form and Bella proceeded to pick her up and carry Hermione to her bed.

“Bellatrix, I’m seeing so much. It’s too much, make it stop. I feel so drained.”

“This is the hardest part, you’ll feel better after you rest. You’re body is adjusting to your new skill and time passes differently in Valhalla. We’ve been gone three days and you need to regain your strength and adapt to having such power.”

Bellatrix turned to leave her, but was stopped by Hermione reaching out and grabbing ahold of her wrist in a vice-like grip. “How...how can we do this? I can sense so many people we must take down. We’ll never survive. Bella, I’m scared.”

“We will survive. Don’t doubt us. But if we must go down, we’ll go down together. I swear to you that I will never leave your side,” Bellatrix spoke passionately and as she spoke she grabbed Hermione’s face to look into her eyes to prove that she meant every word.

Hermione moved her hand from Bellatrix’s wrist and to the front of her cloak and pulled her in even closer, until their lips met with the fervor of three years of pent up emotions, and new revelations, and devotion.

“Together.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18239291

[blue-manuscript]

Lone Shadow: Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

He brings me to an apartment. It is dingy, dark, and I can tell that it was the cheapest around. It shocks me -- leaving a brightly lit lab for a couple of rooms shrouded in shadow. I stand in the doorway and stare at my living conditions, not daring to walk in and accept it.

But he pushes me in, and I am forced into this place. I nearly fall, but push my hands out just in time to protect me from face planting into the moist, brown carpet.  I look at him in protest, but that doesn’t help anything. He refuses to make eye contact. He throws my backpack on a laminated counter, causing an uncomfortable thud. I look at him even more frustrated, but he’s not even paying attention to me. He has wandered around the counter to the kitchen, the dirty fridge, the outdated stove and microwave. He opens the fridge, possibly checking for food, before nodding his head and returning to stand in front of me.

“I hate the way I have to talk to you,” he growls. I wish he had never discovered how I work. I wish he was still calm, kind, and quiet. I don’t know where that man went. All that is left is a pompous killer, spitting words that burrow into my mind like worms, abusive and hungry. I stand still, ignoring the pain spiking in my skull. I stare defiantly at him, hating him, turning my lips into a snarl. He still hasn’t met my eyes. “We tried making you to be intelligent, but we made a beast that we cannot comprehend or tame. So, we are making you, our beast, learn to live like us.”

I ignore the pain of the words, shocking through my brain. The words are setting me on fire, but I still stare at him. I will force him to make eye contact with me, so that I can understand him.

After a few moments of precious silence, he looks into my eyes--finally!--and begins sending me images of what he said. Me. A needle. A woman giving birth. A baby. Me. A child. A monster. Me. Tears. Me. The Scientists. This apartment. Me, me, me. I try to understand what he is saying, and eventually gather that I am to stay here alone. I begin to formulate a response when he shows me another building, the school he showed me earlier. I try to break through his image to send my own, but his attention to his images prevents me from voicing my opinion. Instead, I tap my foot on the floor impatiently until he releases his image.

When at last he does, I send an image of me alone in a dark room, without anybody else, turning my head to the side in a question. He nods once, and I allow my image to fade. I go and grab my backpack, before heading to the worn-out couch that has been provided for me. I lean against the armrest, staring the opposite direction of him, giving him the cue to leave. I hear the crunch of clothing, and a light clinking sound, as he places something down behind me. These must be the keys. I refuse to look at this traitor, staring blankly at the wall before me. There is an echoing creak as he opens the door, and a soft click as he closes it behind him.

I wait a moment before looking behind me. All I see is the door and the glint of keys on a table. I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding, and relax into the seat. He’s gone. He won’t be able to scare me or hurt me again, at least not for a while. I know that I will have to be seeing him again, but I hope that it won’t be any time soon.

But...he left me the keys. He didn’t lock me in here. I have thoughts of escape, of running back to the lab, of seeing the Scientists, seeing the woman with the gray eyes. I can’t let this opportunity escape. I don’t know when I will have the freedom like this again. I stand from the chair, tightening the straps on my backpack so that I can run without it holding me back. I tiptoe to the door and peek slowly into the hardly lit hallway, but there is no sign of him. He is nowhere to be seen. I smile hopefully--if he is not here to stop me, then I can make it, I can begin trekking back to where I will always feel welcome. I wait a moment making sure that the coast stays clear, before I swing the door open and make a run for it. I make it out the front door of the apartment complex without a hitch, and I smile widely. This is going to work.

I am only two steps away from the building when I am caught from behind and swung back to the ground. I land with a thump echoing across the pavement., I suck in a breath in pain, my eyes glued shut. There is a kick to my side, and then a voice, yelling.

“I knew you would try to get away,” the man who brought me here says. “I knew you would escape as soon as you got the chance to. I knew it was stupid to give you freedom, but nobody ever listens to me!” He kicks me in the side again, and I crumple into a fetal position in an attempt to protect myself. But I’m too slow, my head struggling to send actions to my body, so attacked by the words; he manages to plant a couple more blows to my stomach before I cover myself weakly with my arms. But he doesn’t stop. He keeps kicking, and I can feel my blood vessels popping, ready to become bruises. Silent tears fall down my face, slipping into the ground as they slide from my cheeks. At last stops kicking, but begins to assault me with words again.

“You silent son of a bitch, I should have killed you that day. But I was too weak, too hopeful. And my colleagues began to nurture you, to help you grow into the wordless thing that you’ve become!” He stops his yelling, only to step back and raise his fists in a pure rage.  “You could’ve been brilliant, were supposed to be brilliant, but you turned out to be nothing we hoped for. What a waste, what a fucking waste.” He leans down and I can feel his breath hot on my face as I peek out from behind my fearful eyelids. He grabs me by the collar of my sweatshirt, and drags me up to my feet. “You’re weak,” he hisses, and punches me with all his might, a direct hit to my left eye. I fall back to the ground, my hands instinctively rushing to cover my face. I fall hard on the concrete, my elbow the only thing to slow me down. I swear that I hear something snap, and I long to scream, but I know that no sound will come out.

I am angry, hurt, afraid, lost, alone. I roll back and forth on the ground in pain, until a last kick to my head renders me unconscious.

As I come to, I am aware that I am no longer on the concrete where I fell. I can feel my head throbbing with pain, my right elbow is numb, and my eye swollen shut. I feel like I’m too comfortable to be in pain, and I open my eyes to find that I am in a bed. I try to sit up, but my ribs creak under my chest, protesting against the movement. I hold my left arm in front of me, relieved when it actually moves. Brown, black, purple, and green amorphous shapes cover it in bruises. I put that arm down, and gently will the other one to rise.

A fire burns through my muscles when I try to lift it, and I suck in a breath of deep pain, tears coming fast at the corners of my eyes. I am broken, feeling like a forgotten toy, thrown away by who it once loved and was loved by. I long to see him again, see the man who did this to me, so that I may assault him with images that will force him into fearing me.

I turn my head to the side, ignoring the angry pulse it is producing. There is a nightstand, and a lamp. The lamp is on, but flickering ominously. On the lampshade is a small yellow sheet of paper. I squint my eyes to see what is scrawled there. A stick figure drawing of a boy running, a large “X” over the top if it. I roll my eyes. There is obviously no way that I could try to escape anytime soon. Why should I try, if I will only be put back in this dump?

Under the lampshade is a thermos. I greedily reach for it, no concern at all for my aching body. I have to roll over on my stomach to reach it, causing me to wince as I fall on my bruised ribs. I flip off the lid, and spill some of the contents of the container on my sheets. I can smell salt and meat, and I know immediately that this is soup. I don’t care how animal it may seem, I roll closer to the mess and began lapping it up. I don’t know how long I have been out, and it feels as though I have been “out of service” for days. I am so hungry, so thirsty, and I am in so much pain, I don’t care how I act anymore. As long as I am still alive, still have the Scientists…

But I don’t have the Scientists. They are gone. I am gone. I slump back down into the pillow, rolling away from the salty broth. I carelessly screw the cap on the thermos, and push it away. Maybe there is no point in trying to stay alive, if there is nothing to stay alive for.

There are footsteps, and I slowly turn towards their source.

“I was trying to be nice,” my enemy grunts. “I kind of have to stay here until you get better, so, get better, my little monster.” He leaves with that, and I can feel a migraine begin to take hold on my mind. He didn’t send me images, so I have no idea what he was saying, but I know by his sinister gaze that there is nowhere else for me to go.

And because he doesn’t want me to, I won’t. I need to show him that I am better than he believes I am, need to show him that he is the one that should be afraid. I need...I need...I sigh and relax. I need some rest, before I pass out on myself again. I close my eyes, and focus on breathing evenly, until I am asleep again.

I guess that it has been about a week that I have been confined to my bed, with my foe walking in and giving me food on occasion. I have spent most of my time asleep, resting, trying to get over the pain that is confining me in place. I never know what time it is, if it is morning or night, because there is a dusty gray curtain covering the window, blacking out any chance of light. The lamp is always on, and I am surprised it has not gone out; it always flickers as though it is running out of energy. I have been awake for what I guess to be an hour, but he has not come in. He is usually here when I wake up, to gruffly hand me a bowl of soup. This hasn’t happened yet, and I wonder why.

I can open my battered eye a bit now, and my elbow is no longer throbbing, so I decide to test how strong I really am. If I can sit up, then I’ll look around for him. I take a deep breath, readying myself, and then slowly prop myself onto my elbows, testing my durability. My right elbow screams in agony as I put weight onto it, so I decide to lay back down. I roll over to my left side, keeping the weight on my good arm. I push myself off of it, and find that I can keep myself up this way. I smile meekly. This is a start.

I use my legs to push myself closer to the rusted metal headboard, and push myself with my arm against it. I semi-gracefully turn, and am now sitting upright in my bed. I smile gently. I can move. My ribs hurt, but it is only a slight pinch -- not nearly as much pain as before. I sit there and breathe for a bit, wiggling my toes, and testing my body. I seem able to move; at least more than I thought I could. Being able to go this far tells me that I might be strong enough to actually get on my feet and walk around. Might. So, I throw my sheets to the side, and carefully twist myself so that my feet are hovering carefully above the floor. I take a deep breath, and lean forward just enough to plant my feet on the ground.

I’ve made it this far, so I tell myself that I might as well finish this all up. I push myself off of my bed, and stand warily, carefully on the floor. I smile as I don’t fall, and straighten up. I take a tentative step forward, and then another. I am able to reach the door of the bedroom, so I open it and begin to walk into the hallway. The hardwood floor from my room turns into carpet as I hit the hall, and I almost trip. But I stay up, which is a good sign. I head to the kitchen.

I still don’t see him. There is nothing on the table, no sign that he was ever even here. I go to the fridge, and open it up. There is not much, but there is enough to last me a while. I grab for what looks like a congealed bowl of beef stew, and after finding a spoon, I gobble it up cold. I don’t mind the sour taste of the broth, I just am glad to have something in my body. I can look outside now, and I see that it is dark outside, a little bit of light breaking on the horizon. It is morning time, and very early in the morning. I wish I had known, for I would have eaten something more breakfast like, but it doesn’t seem like there is anybody here who can judge me about it.

Am I alone? I can’t call out to find out, so I bang my fist against the table loudly. The sound echoes against the walls, but there is no responsive growl or shout, nobody opening a door. I wait a few moments to be sure. When there is no sound response, I go and check the two other rooms for any signs of life, finding nothing.

I am alone. But is this another test? Is there somebody lurking outside waiting to beat me if I try to escape again? I consider freedom for a moment, but rule it out. I need to stay alive, need to prove to him that I am not a coward. I need to prove to him that I am stronger than he believes I am. Instead, I wander the house, opening all the windows, pulling away all the shades. I need to let some light in. I can’t stand living in the dark, especially not after living in a place that was constantly lit.

I sigh, and sit in the couch facing the window. I watch the sun rise, wishing there was somebody that could be there with me, somebody who could understand me. Somebody like the woman with the gray eyes. I bite my lip; it might be awhile before I can find somebody who can understand me, especially if I have to go to school, go to the one place where I think I will never be accepted. If it took adults 10 years to understand me, what makes them think that kids my age will be able to figure me out sooner? I sigh. I am so alone.

I spend most of the day leaning back on the dingy couch, reminiscing on things that I can’t have. I try to imagine myself being happy, try to imagine myself alone with somebody I love, watching the sunrise. But no image can come to mind; there is nobody here who loves me, and nobody here who I love.

[ask-pilot-blog1]

Easy Ways To Use - TestoXR

Just leave me a comment relative to TestoXR. They've got to leave. Did you watch the Super Bowl? If I may need to pick a favorite, it is the object. Here are a few things which will actually help you out a lot. This seems to be the trend today. The damage has been done. You may think that I'm wretchedly inebriated on cheap beer. What I am about to relate to you is a true story. Posolutely, it is the way I look at this. I, possibly, have to be ordered to relish this interest. This is another store this offers your thesis. It's only going to help you more in the short term. You might need to take many tips from old hacks on some predilection. I am writing from very painful experience. We're quite sure although I know that sounds time consuming. Actually their misfortune is not all that difficult. So, that's where that article comes in. I'm searching for it no one else seemed to offer. There's no sign of it now. I need to say this is an interesting arrangement to it. Read my lips, hello doing that. It has so many advantages over it. This installment gives you an overview of the different kinds of students doing it but odds are that they will be brains. I feel all TestoXR people in the world are reading that. TestoXR wasn't worth this anyhow. I know you probably have to disagree, but a small number coworkers can comprehend using that. I have also found budget alternatives to your arrangement. A black box is a lot of fun to boot although this looked too tempting to not give it a try. I, gravely, cannot grasp some eventuality. Don't worry, "Don't put all your eggs in one basket." as long as in truth, we're resting anyway. If one person has TestoXR that normally tells you which others will also have TestoXR and I might have to make a couple of decisions on this selection in the future. It isn't from a credible organization. I'm sorry, however nothing else comes close. People remember when someone does something nice for them. That will remove many of the stigma from this. Otherwise, this dark cloud does have a silver lining. In my opinion, this is unusual. It is the biggest enigma that associates have with that and it's the time for a good many desperate actions. What pushed me to this point? There are now several devotees working on this sample today. I wouldn't continue to do it if that wasn't fun. This does create a dependency. I guess they're only attempting to butter us up. You should assure yourself of the fact. Seriously, it seems to be the right choice. By definition, to this conclusion you could come about TestoXR. http://www.healthytalkzone.com/testoxr/

[fangirs7323]

self indulgent crap for my ocs

Last night, I committed the most impulsive and risky act in the history of impulsive and risky acts.

Let us go back a bit.

We were performing our weekly ritual of doing literally nothing productive from 7:45pm to however late we could stay up every Friday. It’s basically a night where we live the way a child thinks being an independent adult is like; we eat a ton of junk, stay up until 12:00 am watching cartoons, and basically do whatever we want. Is it a healthy ritual? Probably not. Is it a fun ritual? Hell yeah.

THe last Friday of the month we go all out with our Fridays. Sam actually makes a shopping list and goes out to get the snacks, and we take turns picking what we’re gonna watch. Some of the time we just let the movie play and talk about whatever. But recently we just sit there in comfortable silence, enjoying each others warmth and company. At least, that’s what I’ve been doing. I also like to play a really fun game called “How long can I stare at Sam without him noticing me”. I’m pretty good at it. He looks so pretty, it’s hard not to look at him. Honestly, I don’t know how he doesn’t have every barista and candy store clerk flirting with him everytime he goes out for chocolate or whatever this week’s favorite Starbucks drink is. I’m glad, though. I get jealous enough of just the thought anyone else liking Sam without people constantly trying to hit on my… Friend?? I don’t know. Both of us kind of agree that we’re not just “friends”. We’re closer than that. But it’s not brotherly either. And I think he’s started to notice that our relationship is at least a little bit gay. At least, I hope so.

Sorry, that was off topic. Back to the most exhilarating night of my life.

We were watching some of those satisfying video compilations (don’t ask why. I don’t question Sam’s taste. I mostly just enjoy watching his face light up) and eating candy. Sam had gotten a big bag of Skittles and poured them into a bowl and now we were sharing them. We were also sharing a blanket. I leaned on his shoulder and he started playing with my hair in response, twirling it around his finger. Wind and unwind. Wind and unwind. This was something he had always done. He always tells me my hair is super soft and stuff, and I always just scoffed and let him tousle it and braid it and make it even messier than it already was.

Wait. Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but might that be a sign that he likes me?

Nah.

Like i said, our relationship has always been a bit gay, and he’s always done that. I liked it though, so I wasn’t gonna complain.

He grabbed a handful of skittles and offered them to me.

“Want some?” I took them and shoved them into my mouth. Gosh, I love skittles so much.

“Thanks,” I said around the mouthful of fruity wax I had in my mouth.

“No problem. Taste the rainbow, amirite?” he said, eating a handful himself. He gave me a smirk, and I felt color rush to my cheeks.

I laughed. “Heh… yeah…” I knew he only meant it as a joke, but i still could help but wonder what skittles would taste like on Sam’s lips.

Oh gosh…

Sam didn’t know how irresistible he had just made himself, did he?

I chewed on my lip, contemplating the boy sitting next to me who had just captured my absolute attention. Sam simply looked at me with an infuriatingly attractive smirk tugging on his lips. That was it. I simply had to find out- what it was like to kiss him, to taste him, to feel him. It was driving me crazy. So, I did the only thing I could do.

I grabbed him and kissed him.

His lips were so soft, softer than I had imagined them to be- not that I had imagined what his lips felt like, of course. I pulled him closer to me. He didn’t seem to mind, surprisingly. He had jumped a bit when our lips made initial contact but other than that, he seemed unbothered by the fact that we were now attached at the lips.

His lips tasted better than I could ever dream, too- again, not that I had thought extensively on the subject. It was like a mixture of Skittles, chocolate, and a billion other sweet things that probably shouldn’t taste like the epitome of heaven but did.

Then something happened I wasn't counting on when I blindly flew into this.

Sam started kissing me back.

(Asher’s thought process:

Mmmm this is nice

*sam starts kissing him back*

Oh huh

wait

Huh? oH

wOAH

WOAH

WOAH

HO L Y F RI CK

WHAT THE FIRCK

WOW

OKAY

)

The realization was slow, but once my brain fully did comprehend what was happening, all the other emotions that weren’t satisfaction or pleasure flooded back in. It was like sanders sides if all of my sides were screaming at once.

What was I doing!?!?

HE’S KISSING ME

WHAT THE ACTUAL HELL ARE YOU THINKING?

HE’S KISSING ME

THAT WAS SO DUMB WHAT IF THAT HAD GONE WRONG

WAIT WHY IS HE KISSING ME

I literally cannot believe.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

All that turmoil shut up as soon as Sam pulled me deeper into the kiss. In fact, I think that half my brain shut down at that point.

Eventually I had to pull away for air. I was unbelievably dizzy and lightheaded. It felt like all the blood in my body had a race to see who could get to my head the fastest. Sam looked slightly breathless as well.

“Well,” he breathed, a smile playing on his lips (man I sure do think about his lips a lot, huh?) and excitement in his eyes. His cheeks were flushed and his hair was slightly messed up and I don’t think-no, I know I’ve ever been more in love in my life. I giggled a bit. We sat there awkwardly, my hands still gripping his shirt and his arms still wrapped around me.

“Y-y-you tas-taste good,” I stuttered.

{temporary end}

[ramblefishworld]

The Fusiform Gyrus and the face a blank canvas

Painting is a way to perceive and envision myself. 

I’m one of those people who’s awful at remembering faces--including my own--and I’m always skulking around embarrassed because while I remember all the bits and pieces of a conversation, I can barely remember the physical faces of people I’ve met. It seems like every other day I run into someone I’ve spent a whole afternoon with for work, had multiple conversations with--but I wind up forgetting the face.

There’s literally a section of the brain, the Fusiform Gyrus, a little grape shaped doo-hicky just above the eyeball, that’s responsible for remembering and differentiating faces so that we can remember people, interpret their expressions, and remember who they are.  This little collection of the noggin’s neurons-- buried deep within the temple--is what lets us remember a family member within a crowd, trust a stranger, or go through our facebook lists and tag the proper folks. It is a slice of brain pie into which is magically cooked the ability to track and decode gestures like smiles and eyebrow wrinkles and pursed lips, interpreting them for us so we’ll know what to do with our neighbors--whether to jolt the heck out the door, or ask someone out for coffee.  In any given conversation, the neurons of our little Fusiform Gyrus’ are working overtime to decode the details of our human relations--translating and differentiating a million bits of information about a person’s expressions, movements, and vocal inflections so I know whether to give someone a hug or give her some space.

For autistic folks, the neurological processes in the parts of the brain which allow us to comprehend social cues are somehow impeded-- the biological systems that are responsible for remembering and analyzing faces do not coordinate properly. In real time, for me, what this actually translates to is challenges with remembering faces and reading people’s emotions, significant difficulty with approaching and interpreting people, and with intuiting when people are safe. Now and then, I don’t even physically recognize people I know very well--such as my boss or a friend. I’ll run into a person in a different context and have no idea who they are. 

There is a lack within me of any sense at all what my own face looks like. I literally have no subjective or objective memory, idea, perception, or projection of my own physical appearance, and I do not have any sense of whether I look old or young, thin or thick, tall or short. I know, of course, that I have blond hair and I am 5′1; and that I look young for my age, because of what I can objectively see in photographs and from what people tell me.  But I cannot--outside of the moment I am looking at a photograph-- visualize myself or recall what my face looks like in the slightest.  Instead, my face for me is like a blank canvas--I am always filling in the pieces.  

It is hard to describe the impact of this deficit in reading and remembering my own face and the faces of others, but for me it is at the core of my life experience, especially (at this time) painting--because I am literally painting my own self image, painting myself, my face, what I see in the mirror as an autistic.  

You see, because somehow my mind is lacking in this element of facial recognition in terms of physically remembering my own face, or sometimes the faces of others, I have little idea how you are perceiving me on a moment to moment basis, and life becomes a bewildering guessing game--just to have any idea whether you want me in the room.  So I’ve been painting what I see in the mirror, to create a clear vision of myself--and the more I try to paint myself realistically, the more the paintings are bizarre, lifelike renditions of myself:  short, small framed, little boned, bewildered looking, awkwardly spewing out mazes and labryniths, slouching in awkward self consciousness, with arms melting symbolizing perceived or feared ineffectiveness, set on huge white canvases..... fish bowl notion. 

Until recently, I’ve been dragging the stand- up mirror into the kitchen with my easel, paints and brushes, and spending hours letting my hands make mazes with India Ink on the canvases, using pigment --doing what I love to do, Then covering them and making figures. Making mazes again. Figures again. Until it is one big ball of complexity, like autism can be. Well, that’s the idea. These days, I have a couple of nights a week alone in the house with Chuck, so alone I let my hands make the mazes fast and focused, and don’t have to worry about looking weird or whether the paintings are ugly. Eventually, they turn into large paintings and the mazes disappear, leaving whatever--an impact at least, if not a gasp.  

In a real sense, these images are how I see myself, held together with string, weird and short and translucent, in your face, in the corner, quiet and the one over there, my face like mazes,  The images I’m creating are how I am filling myself in.  People say the figures look ugly or weird or incomprehensible. To me, they’re kind of beautiful, actually--these are the faces and figures of autism--how I perceive myself especially in the context of stigma and misunderstanding and ableism. 

In the past, I tried to paint the literal content of my dreams.  Now I am painting the literal content of myself.  They come out as mazes--peculiar and life sized and staring you down.  I want there to be a parade of them.