#taking queue to the bone zone

[bogkeep]

forgive me father for i have once again listened to a podcast episode discussing a topic that makes me go >:( and now i must write a blog post about it.

the topic was, i guess Learned Helplessness although they never really used that term. the whole talk got very Kids These Days-y in a way that just. does not sit well with me, very generalizing and victim-blamey. but it IS a complicated topic, because there are many things i DO agree with:

- learning to sit with discomfort, inconvenience and conflict is a good and necessary skill

- anti-intellectualism is bad, and challenging yourself can be very rewarding

- people do have a certain amount of agency and responsibility for their actions

- being in community is good and hyperindividualism is not so good

but oh... how do people argue for how everyone should be constantly challenging themselves and be responsible for everything in their lives, in the same breath as decrying self care (or "self care" with the quotation marks) as hyperindividualist?

is this a los angeles thing. do all podcasters live in LA or something

do i have a different definition of community??????

one of my fundamental philosophies that i've carried with me through life is that not everyone can do everything, and nobody does everything the same. we have different strengths and limits, we do things at different speeds, and in community we can compensate for our differences. and most importantly, nobody needs to be "deserving" of help and resources - everyone should have a right to help and resources.

i volunteered at my local queer youth organization for several years. i did what i could when i could do it. for a while i was the only one with access to a car, so i helped out a lot when moving offices, or when we travelled to a rural town to help out with their first ever pride parade. when i moved out i no longer had access to the car. at every parade i was at, one thing that was made clear in all the speeches was that when we march, we march not only for ourselves, but for everyone unable to join. there was never any shame in being unable to join. be it because of safety reasons, or disability, or just plain availability - not everyone can join! not everyone wants to join! enough people do that we have a parade regardless.

something that became pretty difficult at one point is when the leader of the local chapter started taking on too many tasks and delegating too little, essentially bringing the whole organisation to a halt when she was unable to do the tasks and nobody else had access to them. not knowing your limits makes you a choking point.

and like, okay. i'll be the first to admit that i take the whole sentiment of "you're not trying hard enough" a little bit personally. me, and probably every other disabled and neurodivergent person who has had to hear it a million zillion times while they try and try and try and it just does not yield the results - or they yield only at a great cost.

i have several painful memories of my mother, a woman who gets huffy if she has to stand in a queue for too long, implying that i am unwilling to leave my comfort zone. i've grown up thinking that i'm a weak willed and sensitive soul due to personal failing, or maybe a failing to break a bone in my childhood, and hey, maybe it's true. though i AM starting to suspect someof the challenges i face are like, actual challenges, mayhaps due to being autistic and marginalized in a hostile society.

i can't speak on behalf of all disabled people, but i suspect many are familiar with the experience of not being believed when they say they can't do something.

so... okay. how DO we synthesize the 'learned helplessness epidemic' with the fact that people have limits. surely there's a middle ground between "you're not helpless, you can do anything you set your mind to if you just try harder" and "you're not responsible for anything ever and owe people nothing".

i don't know! i just don't think there's a one size fits all solution. making yourself be active and go out is good if you've got depression, and not good if you've got severe burnout. there are times when you may need to push yourself, and times when you need to be forgiving and let yourself rest. is scrolling on your phone for three hours rotting or resting? it depends! it just does!

i think there's great power in knowing your limits. knowing what you can and can't do means finding solutions - sometimes you find an alternative way of doing something, sometimes you need someone else to do it, sometimes you can learn and practice how to do the thing, and sometimes it doesn't need doing. i don't think it's necessary to have to do everything in the most challenging or normative way possible. if it's difficult to throw away trash, maybe you need more available trash cans. i think it's far, far more responsible to be honest about what you can do than overpromise only to crash and burn.

i'm just!!! so exhausted by the idea of constantly pushing yourself, as if improvement can only happen through exertion.

(quick rundown examples brought up in the podcast that made me grind my teeth:

- "unless you have a LEGITIMATE REASON i think picky eating is a moral failing" ghhgrghhgghhhhh

- the whole "americans are getting worse at reading and they only read garbage" as if all reading must be Intellectual and Challenging and that's the True Purpose Of Books. also, not to be like "the american school system has failed you" but the american school system has been failing to teach people to read. like that is actually a thing. i know anti-intellectualism is on the rise and there's a myriad of reasons behind it. but it's weird to me that nobody brings this up!

- "a fifteen year old feeling uncomfortable with this pop star because she's so sexualized" yeah they're fifteen. do you remember how uncomfortable it is to be fifteen and dealing with your body and sexuality in a society that's simultaneously pushing sex at you at every turn while also being extremely weird about sex due to religion probably. im willing to cut all teenagers a lot of slack for being weird about sex and sexuality tbh

- implying people mostly order food/grocery delivery because they're lazy and anxious. Surely People Do It For Myriads Of Other Reasons

- brief mention of "people have less sex than before". stares into the camera asexually

- they didn't actually bring up Therapy Speak but it feels very much in the same vein, you know? a lot of talk about people using mental illness and trauma as an excuse for avoiding things, but you know what might help with a lot of that? therapy. probably. i would hope. like trauma does in fact fuck with your conflict resolution skills, and a lot of people have plenty reasons to be traumatized. Considering)

anyway that's all for now

[minisugakoobies]

Best friend’s bro trying to cheer OC up when they come home

🥺🥺🥺 Oh my god, YES, that is definitely something San would do!

So here's 700+ words about it. No warnings, other than PINING oh my god the pining!

******

Meetings with your editor are never your favorite thing. But today's meeting was especially stressful, given all the "cutting back" going on at work. The staff size is shrinking and you feel like your neck is on the chopping block.

It feels like you've run the gauntlet by the time you get home. Mentally exhausted, back aching from holding yourself upright so rigidly during the meeting, trying to look interested, like a good employee.

But to get into your apartment, you need a key, and right now, yours appears to have fallen into the Bermuda Triangle via your purse. Swearing profusely, you dig through your bag for a few minutes, before finally finding what you need.

The door opens, then stops suddenly, like there's a weight on the other side. "What the f-"

Nero greets you. Not on the ground. In the air.

You take a step back, baffled laughter leaving your lips. Your black cat is suspended in the crack of the doorway, bright green eyes blinking at you in similar confusion, San's hands gently wrapped around his middle. Around Nero's neck is his little fish-spotted bowtie, the one that makes him look like a proper gentleman.

"Nero?"

“Mrow?” 

"Good afternoon, sajangnim," San's voice says from behind the door. He shifts Nero slightly, like he's snapping to attention. "Welcome home."

"Thank you," you giggle, giving Nero a chin scritch. You push on the door slightly, and San steps back, bringing Nero into his arms.

"Hi Noona," he grins. HIs fingers stroke the back of Nero's neck, which is one of Nero's favorite spots. Which San knows now, too. He and Nero are inseparable. 

“When did Nero get a job as our doorman?” you ask, sliding your shoes off before slipping into your house shoes. 

“Just today. And he’s doing such a good job, isn’t he?” San rubs Nero’s ears, earning a loud rumble in return. “Yes, he is.” 

It’s too cute, the way San fawns over your cat. Like he knows Nero has a piece of your heart. So he protects him. Protects it. 

It’s too cute and it’s too much to think about. 

You don’t lay down so much as collapse onto your couch, a loose pile of bones sprawling across the cushions. San takes a spot on the floor, leaning back against the couch. Nero leaps from San’s arms up onto your legs, where he proceeds to bake biscuits in the meat of your thigh. 

“Where’s Haneul?” you ask. Normally when San’s sister is working third shift, she’s up by now, zoning out in front of the tv until she has to get ready for work. 

“Jongho took her out for breakfast slash dinner,” San informs you. “Just me and Nero home.” 

“Well, good thing he’s here to keep you in line. And he got a promotion today, so I think someone’s earned an extra treat tonight.” Nero’s purring grows, ears pricking up at the word ‘treat.’ 

San passes you the remote. He watches you scroll through your Netflix queue for a few minutes. As your fingers run over Nero’s smooth coat, you wonder idly if San’s hair feels as soft as it looks. 

“What about me?” San tips his head back, letting it rest on the cushion beneath your hips while he glances at you. “It was my idea to make him doorman.” 

He pouts, but not his usual pout, not the one that makes you want to give him everything in the world, but a comic pout, bottom lip stretched to its limit, meant to do nothing more than to make you giggle. Which it does.

“Why’d you do that, anyway?”

Something shifts in San’s eyes.

“You said this morning that you had a meeting today. I remember how stressed you were after the last two. So when I heard you in the hall, cursing like a sailor, I figured maybe you could use a laugh.”

“Oh.” Looks like San knows other things now, too. “Oh, yeah, that’s - I did have a meeting. And it sucked. So, um, thanks.” Too many emotions swirl through you, your voice shrinking as you speak, unsure how to express how you feel. Or if you even should. “I appreciate it.” 

“Of course.” When he smiles, your chest physically aches. “Anything to see you smile, Noona.” 

There goes another piece of your heart.

*********

Previous installments of bff's lil bro San: one two three four

Tagging a few people who I think are interested @moni-logues @kiestrokes @augustbutwinter @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @yeontan-my-love

[epihlogue]

WELCOME TO BELLE'S LIBRARY, also known as EPIHLOGUE: an indie, selective, mutuals only MULTIMUSE. by belle. she/her, 30+. [ medium activity / queue based ] read the rules before following. this blog may contain dark themes. a mature audience is advised. this blog will only write with those 21+. minors dni.

✧ DIRECTORY / /

         navigation / memes / open starters / promo                                  @nationbended, @caebrera, @fairgrace

LOUDEST MUSES / /

cassandra owens, henry fox, merlin ambrosius, alex claremont-diaz, james williams, anakin skywalker, padmé amidala, arthur pendragon, morgana le fay, ariel triton, caroline forbes, rose tyler, emma swan, alec lightwood, elena gilbert, the doctor

affiliates:

@magikborn, @dutyled, @wintersovereign, @hstoryhuh, @risenones, @inkdreamt, @forcenexus

currently reading: bury our bones in the midnight soil, the charm offensive, deep end

RULES & MUSES ALSO UNDER THE CUT / /

BELLE  //  30+  //  EST  //  SHE/HER

– hello there! you can call me belle, my pronouns are she/her. I'm 30+ and I am in the EST time zone. this is an independent and selective MULTIMUSE rp blog. this blog is a multifandom, multiverse, crossover, oc & duplicate friendly account. you'll find many fandoms here as well as original characters. I do expect all to be treated equally, regardless of gender or sexuality and I will do the same with your muses too. the tracked tag for this blog is #EPIHLOGUE. discord is available upon request. this is a twenty-one plus only account. minors do not interact.

 – I am mainly iconless except for times in which I decide to use them. I do also use small gifs from time to time. for formatting, I do use some bolds and italics on words that I feel like is fitting for them and I use small text. I am willing to use regular text as well if that is easier for my writing partners.

– for familial ocs, while I do write with them, I will not automatically have my character know them. more often than not, I see familial ocs changing a canon's background and I do not like that. so this is a case by case basis. that being said, however, I will write with canon family members of characters no question asked. 

– I don't support the content creators of certain fandoms that may be seen here. this post that I have shared is important to this.

– drama, callouts, cancel culture and the like are not welcome here. rp is meant to be a fun writing experience, let's keep it that way. there is a block button for a reason, please use it if you need to instead of stirring up drama.

– If something is triggering to you & you would like it to be tagged, please don't be afraid to politely ask me to tag it. For tagged triggers I will use #TRIGGER CW. I currently do not have any triggers to be tagged.please note that the views of my character are not my own personal views. OOC=/=IC.

– PLEASE SPECIFY MUSE. if you are responding to a starter call or sending me a meme, it is very helpful to me for you to specify the muse. the same goes for if you are a multimuse blog as well, this just makes everything easier. 

– REBLOG FROM THE SOURCE. I do not like my notifications being cluttered, so please reblog from the source. you can now click on the three dots and it'll take you to the source that way.

– FADE TO BLACK IS PREFERRED. romance leading up to spice is okay. spice may be referenced on occasion. I may on rare occasions write spice, but that will be with only the rare select few muns that I am familiar with. that also being said, I do love writing romance, pun intended, fade to black for spicy times is just preferred. 

– if you decide to unfollow me, please softblock or hardblock me as that is a mixed signal on if you want to interact or not when I see that I am still following your blog. I will follow through and do the same if need be so that there is little confusion in the case of unfollowing.

– sometimes I don't follow blogs back for reasons like: no age range listed anywhere, not tagging posts, not cutting posts, etc. I do always read rules before following, as I hope everyone is doing the same here too.

– font credit in recent promo: PEACHES & CREAM by waatsoned.

– pinned post main graphic template by jessource.

–psd by: BRODY by 000-PSD. <3 & easy brightening psd by iridescentides.

– YOU HAVE REACHED THE END OF THE RULES! Thank you so much for reading the rules and thank you for your patience! I look forward to writing with you and your muse(s). ♡

MUSES / /

     literature.

alec lightwood / shadowhunters / canon clary fairchild / shadowhunters / canon alex claremont-diaz / rwrb / canon henry fox / rwrb / canon june claremont-diaz / rwrb / canon nora holleran / rwrb / canon beatrice fox / rwrb / canon philip fox / rwrb / canon isabella swan / the twilight saga / canon divergent haymitch abernathy / the hunger games / canon katniss everdeen / the hunger games / canon divergent penelope featherington / bridgerton / canon kate sheffield / bridgerton / canon anthony bridgerton / bridgerton / canon alina starkov / shadow and bone / canon divergent feyre archeron / acotar / canon alice quinn / the magicians / canon divergent quentin coldwater / the magicians / canon divergent violet sorrengail / fourth wing / canon xaden riorson / fourth wing / canon

     media.

merlin ambrosius / arthurian legends / canon arthur pendragon / arthurian legends / canon morgana le fay / arthurian legends / canon divergent guinevere smith / arthurian legends / canon sophia tir mor / arthurian legends / canon divergent mia thermopolis / the princess diaries / canon divergent elena gilbert / the vampire diaries / canon divergent caroline forbes / the vampire diaries / canon divergent emma swan / ouat / canon divergent ariel triton / ouat&disney / canon fa mulan / ouat&disney / canon the doctor (9-15) / doctor who / canon divergent rose tyler / doctor who / canon divergent martha jones / doctor who / canon amelia pond / doctor who / canon divergent clara oswald / doctor who / canon divergent ruby sunday / doctor who / canon anakin skywalker / star wars / canon padme amidala / star wars / canon divegent / lived!au elphaba thropp / wicked / canon glina upland / wicked / canon

     original characters.

nicholas manning / warlock cassandra owens / warlock james williams / professor felix davenport / werewolf margaret wilson / queen veronica prescott / detective esther hawthorne / vampire elias cabrera / prince priya savant / nanny

muses with bios have clickable links. the private muse list is here.

[livingfictionsystem]

🌱📼⚡ these are for the asks you posted on your profile ☺️

OH I'M STUPID HOLD ON

(We queue like everything so sometimes I legit gotta look up what's been posted by other alters. rip. I'm sorry.)

📼: a lot of non-humans. lol The majority are probably vampires but there are also a lot of chaotics, which are a inworld species of elemental beings that are kinda like Grisha or Benders. As a human, I'm in the minority.

🌱: Oh we got hella inworld. Like I said, we got a lot of inhumans like vampires and chaotics, but there are also gods, wolf shifters, angels, demons. Tbh it isn't unlike the Shadowhunterverse, only Chaotics ain't trying to be cops. Not too far from the Grishaverse either. And there are grittier elements like drug rings and such. There are also time pockets that magic doesn't work in? I live in 1920's Chicago because the 1920's is when my two dads, Jack and Jasper, were alive. Anyone who visits me gets nerf'd and on my human level, which is why I like it. It's stupidly in-depth. Like my job in the weird drug-ring kinda deal is making sure trades between time zones stay fair with inflation and all and that there's no chronological gentrification. (Seriously lol) We all have different friend circles and family in there. The ones that don't front don't want to because normally their lives over here are a lot more cinematic lol. But it can be Too real. Physical sensations are the same. I've broken bones that took weeks to heal, I've gotten hella sick over there, there's drama and friendship implosions and budgeting and math. There are TAXES over there rip. The inworld ig wanted to make everything way realistic so we thought it was another dimension as opposed to a fantasy land.

⚡️: switching is kind of summoning someone else, kinda switching my own attention. Like what I'm gonna do here in a bit is go through everyone's music to see who's biting (I'm thinking Xhax or Xanthe) and text them. I'll feel way spacy, I'll feel them around and, suddenly, I'm scrolling on my phone like normal or at Sound's house or something. Or my newsfeed turned into a 20's newspaper lmao. It takes a couple hours, but it depends on who's busy and such.

So yeah SO sorry I didn't check what the emojis went lmao I didn't repost the ask thing so I was like "Is this code?"

-Sparrow 🧷

[afantasycourt]

independent multi muse rp account featuring a variety of muses from acotar, bridgerton, the witcher, marvel, and more. written by kel, 21+, she/her, uk based.

open starter tag

currently reading: fourth wing

rules & mules are under read more

MUSES.

bridgerton.

hyacinth bridgerton: florence hunt, danielle rose russell

sophie beckett: alexandra dowling

francesca bridgerton: ruby stokes, hannah dodd.

lucy abernathy: adelaide kane.

kate sharma: simone ashley.

daphne bridgerton: phoebe dynevor

edwina sharma: charithra chandran

penelope featherington: nicola coughlan

anthony bridgerton: johnathan bailey

benedict bridgerton: luke thompson

colin bridgerton: luke newton

violet ledger (bridgerton) - ruth gemmell, connie jenkins

lady danbury - arsema thomas

queen charlotte - india ria amarteifio

a court of thorns & roses.

nesta acheron - phoebe tonkin

elain archeron - lily james

feyre archeron - freya allan

rhysand - undecided

throne of glass.

yrene towers - zendaya

elide lochan - danielle campbell

aelin galathynius - skylar samuels

dorian havilliard - matthew daddario

rowan whitehorn - henry cavill

the witcher.

jaskier - joey batey

yennefer of vengerberg - anya chalotra

cirilla of cintra - freya allan

shadow & bone.

alina starkov - jessie li mei

stranger things.

chrissy cunningham - grace van dien

eddie munson - joseph quinn

nancy wheeler - natalia dyer

once upon a time.

emma swan - jennifer morrison

robyn mills - tiera skovbye

alice jones - rose reynolds

snow white - ginnifer goodwin

drizella/ivy tremaine - adelaide kane

the musketeers.

queen anne - alexandra dowling

constance - tamla kari

ninon de larroque - annabelle wallis

aramis - santiago cabrera

merlin/arthurian legends.

lancelot du lac - santiago cabrera

elaine of corbenic - undecided

lady morgana - katie mcgrath

guinevere - angel coulby

the chronicles of narnia.

lucy pevensie - georgie henley

susan pevensie - anna popplewell

wednesday.

wednesday addams - jenna ortega

enid sinclair - emma myers

downton abbey.

sybil crawley - jessica brown findlay

daisy mason - sophie mcshera

other.

hayley marshall - phoebe tonkin ( originals )

hope mikaelson - danielle rose russell ( legacies )

rebecca mikaelson - claire holt ( originals )

freya mikaelson - riley voelkel ( originals )

amy pond - karen gillan ( doctor who )

yasmin khan - mandip gill ( doctor who )

morgan stark - katherine langford (marvel)

bucky barnes - sebastian stan (marvel).

peggy carter - hayley atwell (marvel)

rebecca barnes - tbd (marvel)

RULES

RULE ONE/OOC INFORMATION Hi, my name is Kel, I'm over 21+ and use the pronouns she/her. Time zone is GMT.For now, my blog will run on a queue as I'm busy with some real life stuff. But sometimes, I may come online for an hour or two, depending on my mood. Blog is selective, private and mutual only. Also OC, multi fandom and multi-muse friendly too.

 RULE TWO/THREADS AND REPLIES  Replies can take a while to reply to, but I am not ignoring anyone. Please message if I haven't replied within a month.The best way to begin threads are through sending ask memes. I will also post open starters and maybe the occasional starter call. Not really a plotting person either; prefer to go with the flow.

RULE THREE/TRIGGERS I don't really have any triggers. That being said I will tag other people's triggers the best I can, and if I don't feel free to send a message and let me know. Don't send anon hate either. We all make mistakes and can't remember everything. Regarding shipping, I'm open to anything really. That being said, don't force any ships on any of my characters. I'll just unfollow/block if it continues to happen.

RULE FOUR/ETIQUETTE I do not tolerate any forms of hate. Racism, sexism, transphobia, homophobia and any other forms of hate are not tolerated on this blog and I don't want to see any of it on the dash. It's an immediate hard block if I see anything. Respect each other, it's not that hard.

RULE FIVE/SHIPPING. Regarding shipping, I'm open to anything really. That being said, don't force any ships on any of my characters. I'll just unfollow/block if it continues to happen. I mostly ship for chemistry, but don't mind discussing ships beforehand if anyone wants to try anything out.

RULE SIX/SMUT AND MATURE THEMES Smut will not be featured on this blog. All other mature themes will be tagged accordingly and I'm pretty much open to anything except rape, incest etc.

CREDIT All gifs, icons etc on this blog do not belong to me. Credit goes to their rightful owners.

[nathjonesey-75]

LV, NV - Part One

Reflecting upon an unearthly amount of sensory stimulation over the course of five days is a rarity. In particular, when the senses of the writer; at the beginning of those five days would have probably benefitted mostly from a damn good rest. So, when you agree to a free flight and hotel break in Las Vegas as a neurodivergent “sin city” virgin, it could be likened to a power surge in a region which already uses more electricity in ninety-six hours than a small country, in a week.

Nevertheless, if the bare bones of leaving a new home in the hands of a tempest, while travelling to a place which – it has to be concurred – must be experienced once in your life, even while northern Nevada is under a state of major emergency due to over twenty thousand acres of land being destroyed by fire; you know there is a story to tell. From prologue to real-time story, to the return – this long weekend may not have Bradley Cooper or Mike Tyson starring, but by the power of Grayskull – eventful, it was.

For full context, the prologue must be covered first – and not in a bleary memory recall type of way which is often associated with movies set in this modern metropolis. Leaving our little, insecure rescue dog so soon after recently losing her older canine partner in crime to old age and illness – was never going to be easy. Having only moved to a new home area ten weeks previously, finding a new, trustworthy dog-sitter would prove to be nerve-racking; and a test of faith. Not only a test of stranger’s ability with our remaining, beloved pup – but of how it indicated the future’s possible journeys away. As I write this on the return flight to London Heathrow – so far, so good. Let’s just hope the house isn’t bugged, missing valuables or holding a sinister surprise upon return. Wink-wink, nudge-nudge. Joking, honestly.

The other grey area of the prologue being the accumulative mental and physical exhaustion, after not only weeks of grief and sorrow – with the need of a truly relaxing holiday overhanging; but the break away having been a work-corporate arrangement, with my wife being grandly rewarded for her performance in the previous financial year of work. If I played a game of “what comes to your mind first?” – in the context of relaxing holidays, my answer would be more like a Greek island or possibly Cape Verde. Guaranteed sunshine, with a backwards pace of life. Vegas would more likely be in a League One relegation zone of locations to unwind, in my mind.

When the first day of the sensory overload weekend – Thursday – was in full swing, driving to Heathrow in heavy rain suggested more of an escape than at first thought. Yet, after boarding the Boeing 787 at 3pm-ish, the dismal skies above decreed it unsafe to have multiple take-offs and landings; thus delaying our departure by ninety minutes. On board, my phone hadn’t actually downloaded the thousands of tracks I’d thought were synchronised over the course of Wednesday evening, so my favourite thing of zoning out and listening to music was also ruled out. Throw in a narrow seat for a tall guy, inadequate service from cabin crew, another delay in landing in Vegas due to air traffic – plus even further delays to our shuttle taking us to the hotel – and an Oasis-Ticketmaster-like queue for checking in at the glamorous hotel – and it became a full twenty-four-hour day of being cattled around the world. In the words of many conscious people at many different points in history, “fuck that for a game of rectum scalding.”

Anyway, our habitation for the four nights was to be the reputedly most sought-after resort hotel in the global home of throwing money away. The Wynn-Encore International. Now, I had no preconceptions of Las Vegas, other than it being hot and seedy. While these were certainly unchallenged expectations, an education it all was. I can verify that it’s not somewhere I’d recommend my father visit – neither for temperature, nor tourist provisions. From my perspective, it was somewhere I could have maximised the stay – had the weekend’s timetable not have been structured in a haphazard way. Nonetheless, it was free and we did as much as we could.

The size of the city with these fixed plans in mind was one big surprise. Having been stuck at the airport eleven years ago, following a disastrous journey from Melbourne to Kansas City; where a cancelled connection flight from LA resulted in a five airport, thirty-two-hour journey – I’d then seen the famous strip from afar. My resulting idea of it was; that as a new city – its expanse would not be too great. Naïve, this proved to be. More than any western city I can imagine, you would really need to zoom in onto a map to actually see how many businesses are in one area – and even then, it wouldn’t be a shop-to-shop stroll between each one. Along with Google Maps’ unreliable journey planning - the distance between resort hotels and the more variable, interesting parts of Vegas became jagged. Monday, pre-return flight became the best time to visit the Arts District. Monday; when many of the businesses in that district were closed.

Ah, well. Rewinding back to the start of the intense block of days – a phrase which I’m very glad someone else in the work group highlighted about the vacation; “everything takes a while to do”. Having arrived on the Thursday the flight’s delay, the shuttle bus to the Wynn had to - you guessed it – wait for the final passengers. In true Nathan style, I rushed off the bus to try edging past other guests, to reach registration and quickly find a hunger-easing snack en route. The sheer, staggering quota of fruit machines where normal, non-Vegas hotels would possess a “lobby” – with the number of guests, made the effort slightly worthless. There was an air of science-fiction about the place – a 21st century upgraded Mos Eisley space station, in fact. You needed foreknowledge of where every required unit was, or a Skywalker land speeder to get from place to place quickly. So, divide and conquer. Mrs Jones can use her travel admin skills to check in at the desk; while Mr Jones would hunt for a shop containing snacks, while of course; avoiding paying a dreaded tip for simple advice in directions from any hotel staff. It took a while.

When we finally got to it, the room was exceptionally grand. Fifteen-foot drapes opened as we entered, with a panoramic view across one neon corner of the city; immediately throwing more childhood science fiction into my mind. “Holy shit, I’m in Biff’s Hotel in Back To The Future 2!” I blurted. As I was so drained from an already twenty-four-hour-day, plus the $9 total for snacks at the shop was not enough food for us – while I appreciated the room and view, we had to order a room service meal. Which took a while. In that time, I laid on the giant bed and flicked through channels on the larger-than-most hotel room television. What I found on national TV was not just spooky, but already memorable for the trip having just arrived. Back To The Future was just finishing; followed by (great Scott, this is heavy!) Back To The Future 2!

There was no way I would make it past the first half hour of the movie, as the food arrived around 10:10pm and though the waiter assembled an extra table by the panoramic window (which took a while) and the film was only a few minutes in by then; as expected – we smash-ate our meals, lights out and crashed for the night. Still, I managed to rotate the television in front of the window and took a photo of Biff in front of the Vegas skyline*.

Thankfully, upon waking the following morning, indeed each of the four days held a stunning, opulent sight. From the busy streets below to the rocky hills in the distance. As long as I zoned out from the gold-coloured, Biff-tainted pillar of a hotel on the right-hand side (which at this point won’t be named), it was all a sight to behold. With each different cloud or natural light arrangement, whether clear blue skies, moody, unpredictable cumulus or a combination of both – there was a sense of “anything could happen here”, from that view alone.

*For those, unprivileged to have grown up with Spielberg’s sci-fi time travel trilogy, Biff’s evil character in that particular film – and his trashy empire of greed which turned the town of Hill Valley into a crime-riddled nefarious alter-ego of the original town – was based on Donald Trump and his hotel. The scene which shows the alternate 2015 from the 27th floor of that hotel, looking down onto the street was a view almost identical to the one from our room, on the 30th floor. Minus the burnt-out cars and street alcoholics, of course!

[boom-butterfly-effect]



*Kisses every single one of Emily’s moles*

[bangtanpromptsfics]

hyacinth. (m)

dialogue prompt #3: “Your tutor is so hot”

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: f2l(?), light smut

word count: 1,540

warnings: heavy making out, grinding, blonde!jk

summary: you think your new tutor at school is hot and jungkook is determined to change that

a/n: another mature oneshot. I basically die from embarrassment while writing smut lol.

masterlist

“Your tutor is so hot”. Jungkook turns around to your attention so fast he could probably snap his neck.

“Mr. Seokjin? ”, he knows who you are talking about. The new personality development tutor of your school, more like the entire population’s crush at this point. And Jungkook hated him just for the same reasons, it seems petty but he can't help himself.

“Go fuck him then”, he snorts, swinging his back pack from one shoulder to another while you grin. Almost as on queue, Seokjin appears on the hallways and passes a smile towards all the students.

“Oh yes. Look at that a--”

“I guess that's enough for today, come on we gonna get late”, he grabs your arms and pushes you forward to move, having enough of your daily ranting about angelic beauty and who the hell laughs at some dad joke?

“When were you ever interested in math Kook?”, you tease him, resisting him to walk slower, “Oh are you perhaps… jealous!? ”

“I'm not jealous. You are annoying”, he shoots cold face.

“Hey! I'm just saying he's attractive you don't have to be so mean about it”, you whine, hitting his arm.

You see, the fact that Seokjin stole Jungkook’s high school heartthrob position in two days is one thing, but he never expected you to act the same, especially when you were so different from most students on the campus. In fact he is shocked to see you crushing on someone. You despised people in general and he kept wondering what's there in their teacher to be so lurk about because he honestly doesn't see anything.

“He's old. And everyone knows he has a girlfriend, you guys dumb or what? ”, Jungkook teases back.

“Doesn't mean I can't praise a beautiful human”

“So he's the only attractive guy in the school? ”, he's curious now and also lowkey wants to find out if you had felt anything like this about himself.

Jungkook knew he was hot. He knew he could destroy Seokjin's reputation with one different hair color but that's too much drama over nothing. As if there isn't ten assignment waiting for him at home. Yeah he got better things to do.

“Nope”, comes your immediate answer. And man that hurt. You are smart and cocky and it would be cool to know someone like you finds him attractive, but you just hurt his ego.

“Not even me? ”, he asks, all squeaky and with a small pout and you return him a smile.

“See you at 7 Kook”

____

School ends at 5, and thankfully both of your residence are nearby and there's a party hosted by Jimin at his house which is a five minute drive so Jungkook has roughly one hour and fourty five minutes to make an appearance to the party. And by appearance he means to look absolutely endearing. He's never the type to bang a lot of chicks, he didn't even need to do anything than to wear a black tee and jeans to a party and could still get laid. If he wanted sex, he can have that any time he wants.

But today is different.

He's never been this eager to be at a gathering, took time to pick outfits and oh dye his hair. He has never experimented with hair colors except that one time he tried red and got famous by the name ‘cherry head’ in the entire locality.

You of course give yourself the usual thirty minutes to do slight makeup and wear shorts with oversized tee styled enough to merge into the party. And boy you have no idea what you are going to witness today.

Jungkook arrives ten minutes late because the highlights took time to dry off. He styles them, but not too much. He still wanted to look effortlessly handsome and got that long abandoned shear black shirt with blue jeans.

“Woah is that Jungkook!?”, some girls whisper beside the bar you are currently seated at and you turn around, only to feel a pang to your chest. Fuck. A completely look through shirt with fucking tight blue denim is he fucking kidding? And blonde hair? Yeah it's that complete ‘drool over me bitches’ package.

You suddenly feel self aware of how simple you looked. He should have given a heads up because one needs several business days to process blonde Jungkook. He seemed unrecognizable.

“Woah… What's up with this new look!?”, you approach finally. Many people eye him shamelessly in your peripheral vision which is pretty much obvious.

“Nothing. Just felt like it”, he grins, having won you. Jungkook is not attractive who? Yeah he bets Seokjin will never pull off this look.

“You like it? ”, and he undoes first two buttons, exposing a bit of his toning straight to your eyes. Is he fucking teasing? You want to confront him because he's acting weird. But you don't know if this is because you feel different around him.

“Y-yeah… It's good”, you tug a smile.

“Wanna dance?”, he asks and you nod, taking your hand to the dance floor. Most people are wasted but both of you are not. So when you feel him touching more than usual, you are absolutely aware that it's not an accident.

He holds you so close all the time, as if it's something you do daily. Fuck.

“Hold me like this”, he says out of nowhere and throws your hand behind his neck. He knows what he's doing. And you are aware too, but too weak in knees to retract. You hate that you are actually enjoying this and he loved it.

“Y/n….”, he whispers to your ear, tucking a strand of your hair behind it, “Can I kiss you love? ”

Your nod is so soft and innocent before you give in. Most people who were looking forward for Jungkook’s company give up and hook up with other guys around because they know he isn't here for anybody else.

He flushes your hips against his as he kisses you, obviously tongue all the way. He doesn't know why but he wanted to shut your mouth exactly like this whenever you swooned over Seokjin. And he is most certain that all those memories are perished along with the kiss.

He pulls your bottom lip out and looks into your eyes and grinds his hip on yours, and you moan lowly. He internally curses at how sweet you sounded.

“Come with me”. He pulls you out of the crowd and into a private cubicle where people usually make out. And thankfully there was one vacant.

But he isn't quick to act once inside the space. He takes his time to lock the door and to sit at that one chair in the centre, manspreading luxuriously for you to see.

You never did anything like this with Jungkook. It was not like you had friend zoned him, you actually don't know why, all these years you spent casually flirting and shrugging off with each other, and now you can't wait to devour him.

You make your way to his lap and sit right on his hips, sighing at the contact. He grabs the back of your head and pushes it towards him. His other hand taps your butt to continue grinding which you happily do so.

He continues exploring your skin, hooking his hands on your shirt and rubbing circles at the skin there. Feeling his cold hands, you move to undo two more of his buttons to get a peak of his pecs, something you wanted to do the moment you saw him.

He moans into your mouth when your movements start to get him worked up, feeling high and ecstatic. Even with the denim shorts on, the dent on his pants was enough to get you close to orgasm.

“J-Jungkook… ”, you trail off, head slightly falling back which he catches.

“Go on love, almost there”. Fuck. You loved it when he called you names, but this one was, exceptionally very much turning you on.

He detaches his mouth to suckle on your collar bone, exposing it by pulling your t shirt slightly down. It becomes all too much, and you focus on the knot forming at your stomach.

Jungkook stops kissing you, indicating he's chasing his high several moments after yours, glad that both opted for thick denims as bottoms to cover the mess you made.

“We should've done this way before”, you imply, separating the strands of his hair sticking to his forehead.

“We could've, but you were busy drooling over some teacher”, he smugs.

“So you were jealous! ”.

Unfortunately his cocky being doesn't have an answer for that so he dodges it with another long kiss, breaking off with a loud smooch.

“God I can kiss you forever Y/n…”

“And...then? ”, you ask your confusion. You don't know what's your relationship with Jungkook is anymore, now that you had made out with him.

“... then… maybe you'll fall in love with me?”

“See you at the party Kook”, you peck the corner of his lips and get off his lap. After taking a moment to fix your outfit, you leave the cubicle.

And Jungkook knew exactly what he was going to do.

Thank you so much for reading!! ♡

Original Content of ©bangtanpromptfics

[thefoulbeast]

stalker au stakh lore pt1 a.k.a. stakh turning away from the group and leaving them to continue to the center of the zone by themselves (stakh's nickname is mule in this)

words: 1052 warnings: n/a

--

pt2

--

It is the fourth day of their trip, and Mule is having second-thoughts. He’s never been this far into the Zone, and he knows the others haven’t either. They’ve been wandering almost blindly – only the outdated maps of the time before the Zone leading them along the old, abandoned roads and the endless expanse of the steppe with its sparse shrubbery and the smell of the blooming flora.

It is beautiful, the way fire is – with an edge of danger, a knowledge that at any moment they could fall into a new kind of trap that lies in the Zone’s bowels. At the very least – they’re past bandit territory. But this deep there is no knowing how the local fauna will react. Or how much of it there will be. They’ve passed foxes and lone dogs; they’ve passed strange and colourful birds. They’ve spotted something large and mobile on the edge of the horizon, head raised in the air as if scenting it.

Dirt, the unofficial leader of their little band of stalkers, has taken point on the expedition. He sets a strong and steady pace, the others following in his footsteps, single file. The second in their queue is Maggot, the designated scout of the group. Then follow Hog, Bottles, Sinbad and Crow, with Mule bringing up the rear, trailing ever so slightly behind.

He doesn’t like this.

For all the jobs their gang has taken, this is by far the most ambitious. It goes against everything he ever learned with old man Isidor ‘Menkhu’ Burakh, and his instincts scream at him. Wandering this far into the Terra Incognita is a death wish unless a Stalker has a good sense about him. And Dirt’s sense is fine, don’t get Mule wrong, but…

But Mule’s is better – he’ll say as much aloud to anyone who asks, even Dirt himself, as much as that might bruise the other’s ego.

And each step he takes feels like walking on nails. Once already Dirt has led them through a path between two hills, leaving them covered in both directions and caught in a ravine, in a move that Mule had vocally protested against. And still – they are pushing forward to the heart of the Zone, hour by hour, covering ground left untread for years since the older generation of Stalkers started dying out. And back in the golden days too, only the stupid and the most apt of Stalkers had wandered out this far.

Mule wonders now – what does that make them? Under the balaclava, he’s been worrying at his lip for the better part of the hour. Words are bubbling in his chest, aching to be said.

‘This is foolish,’ he thinks, ‘We’ll get killed, no doubt. No one knows what’s fucking out here.’ There are tales of the middle of the Zone. Theories and facts and gossip – and God be willing, one can tell that the three apart. Menkhu used to talk about his exploits, back when Mule was younger. Great and colourful tales they were, about monsters and sand-pits and buildings made of liquid crystal.

They’d gotten sparser the older Mule got, and by the time him and Artemy had been ready to go on their first trips into the Zone, they’d died out, replaced instead with reminders of cautiousness and respect for the Zone. He’d taught them how to spot anomalies – bug traps and spring traps, vortexes and electros – in the way the air shimmers. He’d taught them to make bone charms from the bones of cattle slain and quartered by the Kin. He’d…

Mule pauses in his steps and feels for the bolts in his pocket. A shiver runs through him – a sense of warning, a lurch in his heart.

A few strides off, Crow turns his head backwards, “Why’d you stop?” His words alert the others, and the whole group comes to a stop. Dirt turns around with his hands braced on his hips impatiently. His weathered face is pinched, ruddy from the walking and the blazing sunlight. His cheeks are mottled with dust wettened by his own sweat.

“Something’s off,” Mule says, “The path we’re taking. It doesn’t feel right.”

“Not this shit again!” Dirt barks with a disbelieving laugh, “Stop being such a spineless bitch, Mule.”

“Have I ever been wrong about these things?” Mule asks, voice tight with frustration.

“There’s a first time for everything. You’re just scared because of the depth, admit it,” Dirt scoffs, “You’re always scared the deeper we go. Well – I am yet to lose a man, good sir, so I’d say I know well what I’m doing.”

“I am wary with good reason; I must remind you. We don’t know what’s out here, Dirt!” Mule reasons, just barely raising his voice, “Even you haven’t been out this far! There could be anomalies we’ve never seen, or mutants – like the thing from before. Have you ever seen anything like it before? Are you really prepared to face it?”

A hush settles over the group. All the stalkers look about warily at each other, obviously thinking. Dirt turns cold, “I am prepared for everything, Mule. You’re the one who isn’t, it seems. It’s not too late, then – turn tail and run while you can.”

A standoff ensues. Mule and Dirt stare each other down from across the group. Self-assuredness versus wariness – who would be the first to fold?

Mule blinks and turns away, “Fine.” His face is red with anger under the balaclava, but there is a confidence to the tilt of his shoulders. “I’ll go back – I’m not dying out here. And if any of you are smart, you’ll turn around too. This whole raid was born under a bad mark.”

“Don’t you curse on me, Bitch,” Dirt spits, “Just because you aren’t man enough to take it.”

Mule’s eye twitches as he regards Dirt one last time. “I’ll see you back at the Broken Heart,” he says, and turns around to go.

Though some feet twitch, no one goes to follow him, at least not with anything more than their eyes.

“The fucker’ll be dead before he makes it back alone,” Bottles mutters into the tense quiet, “and he calls us crazy.”

“Whatever,” Dirt grumbles, obviously greatly chagrined by the loss of a member, “On me, lads, let’s keep it going.”

[ickle-ronniekins]

tangled up

request: from nonnie! “love those sharing a bed tropes... not saying you should do it but you should definitely do it”

pairing: fred x fem!gryffindor!reader

word count: 2.3k

A/N: ummmmmm love this request, i'm in suuuucch a fred mood lately

warning(s): brief mention of war, ~implied sexual content~ i suppose

tag list: @mintlibri @seppys-return-to-madness @how-do-life-does @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @semmelsemi @cottageoflove @laneygthememequeen @snakesonaplane-7 @keoghans @dreamer821 @wtfweasleyy @62442-am @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadowsinger11 @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu @annasofiaearlobe @starlightweasley @alwaysasadaesthetic @thisismysketchbook @izzytheninja @imboredandneedalife @hemmoporro | message me to be added loves!

The cool October air had a bit of a bite to it -- it seemed as though Bill and Fleur’s wedding was ages ago. You wrapped a blanket around your shoulders to reduce the chill in your bones.

Suddenly two redheaded figures appeared with a pop! onto the field outside of your home. By what you could see, they’d apparated just before the line of protective enchantments -- a type of advanced magic only a very intelligent wizard could do.

“Bloody hell -- you’re a life saver, you know that?” George exclaimed as he finally reached you, wrapping you in a warm embrace. “I couldn’t be there for one more moment.”

Fred rolled his eyes and explained, “He means at Auntie Muriel’s. Being a bit overdramatic, are we, George?”

The elder twin shot his younger brother a look of amusement as George dropped his bag onto the floor and ran a hand through his hair. “Overdramatic? Tell me, Fred, would you like to go back?”

Fred then draped an arm across your shoulder and peered at his brother. “And reject our best mate’s offer to spend time at her lovely home? That would be so rude.” George swore he saw his twin shudder a bit, no doubt at the thought of returning to their Auntie Muriel’s to endure more yelling and criticism. George shot him a very sardonic look, and laughed lightly.

“Glad you two decided to come -- it’ll be nice having someone else in the house. I haven’t had a proper night’s sleep in months,” you waved your wand to pull three teacups from the kitchen cupboard and started the kettle. You felt a sense of ease at having your two closest friends here. “Should be alright out here, at least for a while.”

Fred glimpsed around your tiny little house. It was small, but exceptionally tidy with a very cozy feeling to it. It looked much different than the Burrow, but still emanated that feeling of home. “Lovely place you’ve got.”

“Thanks, Freddie,” you replied, handing him a steaming cup of tea. He gingerly took it out of your hands. “Just one problem.”

The twins chorused together, “What?”

“I’ve only got one extra bed.”

If the room hadn’t gone so eerily still at your comment, you never would have noticed the small jab to the hip George gave his twin. Fred grunted a bit and stifled a cough. “Oh, no worry -- George already said he’ll take the floor.”

Fred earned himself an eye roll and another jab.

You waved them both off and blew on your tea. “Don’t be silly! I’ll take the floor. You two’ve just got to battle it out for who gets the bigger bed.”

As if on queue, George immediately hoisted his bag back over his shoulder. He began walking away and pointed toward your very tiny spare bedroom off of the kitchen. “This one here, yeah? Thanks again, Y/N, really appreciate you letting us escape the wrath of our aunt -- I’m absolutely knackered, hope you two don’t mind if I turn in!” and with a quick wave to you and Fred, George closed the door and you both almost immediately heard very loud snoring. You and Fred exchanged a laugh.

You made sure everything was in order for Fred before leading him to your room. But you noticed he hadn’t brought his stuff with him -- you saw his belongings near your front door. With a wave of your wand, you brought it forward.

“I’m really okay to sleep on the couch,” he told you, pointing back toward the front.

“I’m not going to have you sleep on the couch,” you replied, shaking your head. “Besides -- you’re not staying out there. I might be a bit dramatic, but the couch is too close to the windows and the front door, and though I’ve been safe here for a while..” you voice trailed off a bit, and you swallowed down the nerves bubbling up inside of you. “Just -- we never know where the Death Eaters are. You take the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

You patted Fred’s shoulder, ready to head back out to your front room, when he took your wrist in his hand and whirled you back around to face him. “If I’m not allowed to take the couch, neither are you.”

You crossed your arms and swallowed. “Fine,” you replied with a grin. “Have got tons of extra pillows and a massive blanket here somewhere -- let me go and fetch it. Go on then, make yourself comfortable.”

“Merlin, you are being thick today,” Fred chuckled, and you noticed traces of the young boy you grew to love. He caressed small circles on the back of your hand. “Would you just sleep in your own bed?”

“But --” your breath caught in your throat. You glanced at your own bed, easily big enough for two, maybe even three, and went against your better judgement before you could overthink it. “Just share with me, then. Nobody takes the floor.”

A hint of nervousness flashed across his features before twisting into a cheeky grin. You continued on when he stayed silent, “What’s the matter, Freddie? You’ve been my best mate for the better half of the last twenty years. I mean, I’ve seen you in your bunny slippers, for Merlin’s sake --” Fred flinched uncomfortably at the memory of you catching him, late one evening in Gryffindor tower, in bunny slippers his mum had knitted for him as a child. You had never let him forget it.

His grin deepened alongside the crimson red colour of his cheeks. “Listen, woman, they are soft and keep me nice and toasty, alright?”

“Whatever you say,” you replied before sliding yourself underneath your warm blanket. You patted the other side of the bed in an accidental sensual way and realized how that must’ve come across. You quickly cleared your throat and turned off the light before you could see his reaction. “Erm -- there are extra pillows on the couch if you need.”

You felt his body slide in next to yours, and you could still make out some of his facial features from the faint light of the lightning strikes outside. He was definitely still grinning. “I’m fine, really.”

You figured out quite quickly that neither of you were able to sleep, especially because it was only eleven p.m. and because of the wild wind and rain that were howling outside of your window. The words were spilling out of you before you could help it. “Fred?”

He turned on his side to face you. “Yeah?”

You were laying on your back, looking up at your ceiling in the darkness. “Are you afraid?”

When he didn’t answer right away, you turned your head to face him too. Each time the lightning struck it was bright and vibrant, and highlighted his features in a more intimate way than ever before. He threaded his brows together and took a deep breath. “Yeah, I am.”

It was weirdly comforting hearing him say that he was afraid. The man who didn’t have a serious bone in his body was actually scared. It was strange and unnerving and brought a sense of solace to you all at once.

You sucked in a breath, worried that your normal evening anxiety would show solely through the look in your eyes. You turned away to glance toward the ceiling again when you felt Fred brush his fingers gently against yours under the covers. Your breath hitched at the contact.

“I think it’ll be okay though.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I suppose I can’t..” it was so weird, hearing him speak like this. He shifted again. “I just think.. we’re more prepared than before. Think there’s more of us this time. Besides, we’ve done our studying, and we’re all brilliant wizards.”

A smile tugged at the edges of your mouth. “You are kind of brilliant.”

“Wow,” he breathed, and it was almost a whisper. You noticed the way the edges of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “Can I get that in writing?”

“Care to return the compliment first?”

“Hang on,” he replied, placing his hands behind his head in a bit of a relaxed state. “I need to bask in this for a moment.”

“Oh shove off, you git!”

You playfully swatted him before he retaliated. Soon enough you were both sitting upright, thwacking one another with pillows and laughing into the darkness of the night. Fred fell to the floor with a dull thump, and you stifled lots of giggles and shushed him as he slid back into bed next to you. “You’re going to wake up George!”

You weren’t sure how long the two of you were swatting at one another. It could’ve been hours, or perhaps days. But then the storm grew more fierce, and you found yourself scooting closer to him in bed. Fred always had a way of making you forget about everything going on around you. It was always surprising to you how you’d be able to drown out the rest of the world, as long as you listened to him talk, or as long as you watched him work on his inventions with gentle hands. Even in lessons, back in school, when he’d teasingly wink at you from across the classroom, you were pretty much rendered completely useless for the rest of the day. When it was just you and him, the rest of the world might as well not even exist.

He must’ve noticed how you zoned out, because he asked, “What’s on your mind?”

You turned on your side to face him fully this time. “Just reminiscing.”

“Yeah? About what?”

“Remember when we bumped into one another in the corridors during our fourth year -- I was sneaking sweets up from the kitchens, and you were attempting to sneak into one of the classrooms to finish working on inventions?” You smiled at the memory. “And then Filch was roaming around, and we nearly got caught?”

Fred laughed. You were happy that he remembered. “Never sprinted back to the common room so quickly in my life. That ruddy cat of his was clawing at my ankles.”

“Between the fact that I’d hardly gotten any sleep that night and the adrenaline rush, I was bloody exhausted.”

Fred snorted. “Yeah, you fell asleep in the armchair next to the fire almost immediately when we returned and began to snore rather loudly, if my memory serves me correct.”

You grinned, not skipping a beat. “Yeah, my snoring is almost as embarrassing as those slippers of yours.”

You expected him to groan and throw another pillow in your direction, but instead he just deepened his smile and reached out and placed his hand next to yours on the edge of his pillow, your fingers almost touching. “I dunno -- I thought it was cute.”

You really hoped the steady drumbeat sound of your heart was drowned out by the sounds of the thunder outside. You weren’t so sure though. “Yeah?”

He wet his lips and nodded. “I remember having to wake you up because it was nearly four a.m. -- fire had died out and you looked so uncomfortable in that armchair -- I just wanted to carry you upstairs. Except..” Yeah, jinxes by the professors at each respective staircase. Boys weren’t allowed in the girls dorms, and vice versa. You knew exactly what he was getting at.

You felt a swift surge of confidence overtake you, so you gently moved your fingers a few centimeters before you slowly intertwined them with his. He didn’t flinch. Your voice was softer than you expected. “What else do you remember about that night?”

It was an opening -- you didn’t want to be so blatantly obvious about it, but Fred could always read you like a book. You hoped he still could, after all these years. Luckily for the both of you, nothing had changed. He took the opening. “I remember wanting to kiss you.”

You bit your lip, hoping to suppress the nerves that were bubbling up inside of you like fizzy champagne.

Fred laughed cheekily. “Never got a chance, though.”

Before you could think more on it, you nudged his leg with your toes and scooted closer to him. You could see the steady rise and fall of his chest, you were so close. “Then kiss me now.”

His mouth parted slightly in surprise, but nevertheless he inched forward and caught your lips with his. They were soft -- softer than you ever could have imagined, and so was the kiss itself. He tasted faintly of mint, and and you found yourself breathing in deeper when he trailed one solitary finger across your jawline and down your neck. The feel of him against you warmed up your entire body in a way that the common room fire never could.

He sighed against your lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Mmm we should’ve been doing this the entire time,”

You laughed softly and brought your fingers to your lips, hoping to still feel that electricity. “Yeah, we probably should have.”

All thoughts of the war seemed to subside as he leant in to kiss you again. Somehow, being with him, your limbs entangled together -- it was enough to make you forget about the war on the horizon, everything that was about to happen. As far as you were concerned, as long as Fred was beside you, tangled in the covers of your bed, everything would be alright.

He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. His voice was rough and sensual and soft all at the same time as he wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Thanks for inviting me to sleep in your bed.”

You grinned and raked your bottom lip through your teeth. “Yeah, well, like you said -- we should’ve been doing this the entire time. Figured I’d get a jump start on what we’ve missed.”

He laughed and wrapped his arms tightly around your hips. Goosebumps sprouted on your skin as he lazily trailed his fingers up and down your spine and told you, “Knew you were my favorite for a reason.”

[sunpopp]

Warm to The Touch | {CCH}

→ Summary; it's not often that Chanhee gets sick, but when he does, he's a very big crybaby about it. That, or he really is in as much pain as he says he is—regardless that leaves you to take care of him, and funnily enough, it has its perks.

• WC/genre: 2K of smut + fluff

• Includes/cw: Chanhee being sick and reader taking care of him, no kissies on lips 😔, sub!Chanhee, gn!reader, fingering (m receiving), dick neglection (?), handjobs, brief praise, aftercare

Riding the bus wasn't your favorite thing to do, but it was soothing if you were in the right mood.

Sadly, you weren't. Mostly due to the fact that Chanhee was quite literally blowing up your phone with texts asking how much longer it'd take you to be off the train and on your way with his precious medicine, making you sigh and roll your eyes before shooting him a reply that you'd be there soon, but knowing nothing would calm him down until you were in front of him to prove it.

You can't help but smile.

Chanhee didn't complain much about anything, besides maybe you not helping him with washing the dishes or set the table while he made dinner, but everything else was, at most, a dirty look that softened relatively quickly. Sickness, though, was a whole other ballgame.

He would rant and rave about the tiniest of phantom pains, practically on the male equivalent of his period with the way his mood would get snappy and sour at the slightest inconveniences.

But maybe he really did just have a shit pain tolerance like he'd often hint at. Though it didn't stop you from still being baffled when he'd get a bad cramp in the middle of the night and whine about it until he'd fall asleep again.

Coming back to reality as you glance up to the bus's nearing destination, you stretch lazily and begin to stand, muscles aching from walking all day and back cracking loud enough for you to wonder if other people heard it. The bus slows to a stop before finally lurching against the sidewalk, and you take your leave through the opening doors with an appreciative thanks to the driver.

Almost immediately after you hop down from the steps, a layering of chilly wind washes harshly against your front and the familiar smell of petrichor into your nose, relentless rain droplets against your coat as you begin in a jog in the direction of your apartment. Chanhee must be freezing right now, you think, concern growing even heavier at the visible breaths of air you let out. If he's already got the sniffles, a sore throat, and headaches, he's probably getting worse considering you'd forgotten to turn the heater on before you left.

Stupid mistake.

It takes maybe a couple more minutes, less than it'd take if you were walking like normal, before you're finally at your door, punching in the code for the lock before shouldering it open and kicking off your shoes on the shoe rack. It's cold inside, you can tell by the way your cheeks still feel numb.

"Chanhee! I got your medicine!" Your words echo throughout the hall, spreading out when you keep calling his name as you move farther in; past the open kitchen and to the bedroom door opposite the bathroom.

When you come into the room, Chanhee is still in the bed where he was when you left, but this time, he's sat up, looking at you with hooded eyes and a thin sheen of sweat covering his face. He frowns, "It's about time. While I was here suffering, you were out with your friends. Unbelievable..," he pouts and shakes his head.

With a chuckle and now eased posture, you sit in front of him and set the bag of medicine beside you to check his temperature. He's extremely hot.

"Yeah, well, staying around you while you're sick is enough to drive me crazy so you can't really pin the blame on me for needing to leave. Plus, it's not like you tried to stop me, did you?" You smile at him, standing back up to go run him a lukewarm bath.

"I was asleep!"

"Your problem, not mine!"

___

"Alright, up you go."

"Ah, but my whole body hurts..."

"Too bad, you're sweating a bunch and you haven't done anything to clean yourself yet."

Another tug of Chanhee's hands, and he's stumbling into your arms with a raspy groan at the jerky movement. You pat his back, pecking his damp forehead, then drag him to the bathroom.

"Can you undress yourself or do you need my help with everything?" You half-joke.

"Don't be rude, it's actually hard for me to do a lot of things," Chanhee utters bitterly, but he does manage to pull his shirt over his head, albeit with your help, as well as his pants and boxers before stepping into the water.

"Or maybe you're just fragile as hell and the smallest things have you bedridden for a week."

"Oh my god I'm gonna-"

"Hush, princess, you won't do anything," you find yourself laughing as you lower yourself to your knees beside the tub, folding your arms on the side before resting your cheek atop them, "Just relax, okay? I know you're too tired to argue right now, so let yourself calm down for a couple."

He thankfully doesn't protest, and takes your advice for once; letting himself fall against the back of the bathtub and close his eyes, the sigh through his nose an indication that he's allowing himself to enjoy the water. He looks so peaceful like this. Doll-like eyelashes fluttering against smooth, heated cheeks, and head slowly lolling to face you.

You feel yourself reach out. You know it's happening, but you don't stop it when you run a hand through Chanhee's bangs, then swipe a thumb past his eyelid to trail to his nose, then lips.

He opens his eyes, but doesn't say anything, even if he probably finds it strange. He lets you touch him.

"You're very pretty," you mumble whilst pouring water onto his head using the wash bucket on the back surface of the bathtub. Drops trickle down into mini patterns on his face, and he drags a hand over it to clear them away.

"Even while sick?" He raises his eyebrows, pleasantly surprised at your answer.

You comb the water into his hair to wet it as you nod, "Even while sick."

Chanhee smiles, "So, how was your day out?"

"It was nice. Found a perfect place where I'd love to take you, actually."

"Oh? Where?"

"The bone zone-"

"Oh my god, you're so annoying!"

You erupt into a fit of laughter as Chanhee swats a hand at you, getting some of your shirt and arm wet where you shield yourself from his little attack. You pinch his cheek, flashing a toothy grin, "Oh, come on! That was a good one and you know it. Smooth as ever if I do say so myself."

"Yeah, and you're the only one saying so," He pouts, pulling away from your pinchy fingers and trying his best to hide the steadily growing smirk that threatens to break his face into a smile. Stubborn as always, you see.

"You can leave now," Chanhee gives you a pointed look.

"Alright, alright. I'll be in the bedroom awaiting any further commands, your highness," You shake your head, and make a grand display of leaving the room and him to his own privacy.

Chanhee doesn't take long in the bath anyway, so you knew you wouldn't have to wait long as you fall back against the bed, shifting around until you've made yourself comfortable against the strewn navy covers. You spare a glance out the window pressed against your side; still raining, and still bathed in a silver glow from the blanketing clouds. It'd make you kind of sad, if not melancholic, but you were in a good mood from coming home, so at the most, you were calm.

Calm, even when Chanhee emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam a half hour later, only wearing a pink striped button up pajama shirt and matching bottoms, hands raised above his head whilst he dries his hair with a small towel. He comes to a stop in front of you.

"There he is," you exclaim, looking up from your phone and patting the spot next to you with a mischievous glint in your eye, "C'mere."

"I wonder why I'm hesitating," he says, and you can practically feel the the sarcasm in his words.

"Because hot people make you nervous? Duh."

"Are you insinuating that you're hot?"

That's your queue.

Leaning forward, you grab Chanhee's wrist and tug him into your chest, causing him to stumble slightly, but you catch him and pull him flush against you. A flurry of kisses to his face, excluding his lips, ensue.

Chanhee squirms around in your arms and acts like he doesn't like the affection at first, but a few more seconds of the same treatment prove true to his soft side when he goes limp and begins to giggle at the ticklish feel of your butterfly pecks.

Oh, that giggle. How you loved to hear it; sweet and beautiful like the chime of the prettiest bell in your ears.

You pull him on top of you as you relax against the crevice where the mattress meets the wall, and rest your cheek on the top of his head, humming, "You saying that I'm not hot?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

"Kidding."

"No you weren't."

"Yes I was."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"You- Hush!" Chanhee covers your mouth finally and you chuckle against his palm at his feeble attempt to silence you.

You press a kiss to it instead of bickering further, causing him to soften. Just then, you realize something as you touch down his wrist.

"Woah, has your fever not died down at all? You're even starting to sweat a little bit again, too..."

Your suspicions prove true when a closer inspection at the ruddy skin flushed from his cheeks down to his chest and heavier-than-normal breathing indicates that he's still hot, or at least overheated.

"Here," you murmur, already shifting him on his back so you can easily unclasp the buttons of his shirt, "Are you in any pain or is it still just the sore throat?"

"The headache I had earlier is starting to come back. It's getting worse, but that's about it so don't worry, I'll be fine," Chanhee tries his hand at reassurance, you can tell, but it doesn't do anything to stop you from crawling over him to scurry into the kitchen.

"I'm getting you some water, hang on!" You call out from down the hall, making quick work of filling up a decently sized glass before you return to him with some painkillers as well. He barely manages to sit up when you reach him; his face scrunching at the obvious pain that's beginning to hit him tenfold as he gratefully takes the pills and throws his head back when he tosses them in his mouth, chasing them with the cold glass of water you provided.

"Ah, it's actually really starting to hurt...," Chanhee whimpers and at the sound, you slide back into the bed to pepper his face with pecks once again. He's grateful for the comfort, if the way he gently drapes his arm over your shoulder says anything.

"Oh, my poor baby," you coo lowly, feeling the goosebumps on his back that prickle at your tone, "Is there anything I can do to make it better? Did you already take your medicine?"

"Yeah.. still hurts.."

"I can tell," you snort and trail a finger down Chanhee's sternum, looping it back up to flick at one of his nipples. He jolts, and you can't help but give a cheeky smirk, "Even your nipples have taken on somewhat of a hue. I wonder what other places are doing the same thing...," your words would hold suggestion to even the most clueless of people, spoken through lips now slicked with saliva as you roll your tongue across the tinted flesh and lower your head for a taste of his exposed breast.

"Ah!" Chanhee gasps loudly and his fingers find purchase on the back of your head, his body trembling when he arches his chest up into your face, searching for more when his mouth fails to ask you such a favor.

Teasing his nipple with a gentle nip before pulling away to kiss it instead, you caress his narrow waist, "You said it hurts, no?"

"It does...," Chanhee pants and nods as fast as his throbbing head will allow him.

"Where does it hurt most, baby? Tell me," You wet your fingers with a quick swipe of your tongue then reach under his lower half to slide your hand into his shorts, Chanhee helping you by taking one leg out, and glide down the seam of his ass to tease his rim, "Here?"

"Y-yes..!" you chuckle when he huffs and flings both arms around your head, pulling you close into him and meeting your forehead as he grinds down against your digits.

"Awe, look at you..."

And look at him indeed; Chanhee is already a mess before you. Staring at you with those big watery doe eyes of his, and silently pleading for you to continue doing things to his body that has him feeling like bursting.

You give him exactly what he wants.

Pushing your finger into him, slowly due to how tight the fit is, you press sloppy kisses to the underside of his jaw. The reaction Chanhee gives is a familiar one, with sensual lips dropped open to let out a high-pitched moan and legs trembling as he holds them open for you, fighting to not shut his eyes upon feeling you enter him.

"Good," you drawl, tilting your wrist at an angle once your index and pinkie meet the backs of Chanhee's thighs and gently curling your fingers upwards, "Just like that, baby. Is this okay? Are you okay?" Your eyes search his face for discomfort, and though you don't find any, you still your movements.

He nods and nuzzles against the top of your head with his cheek, "Mm-hm. Keep going, please."

You start back up at his polite request, as much as you love hearing him ask for more of something, and begin to drag the pads of your fingers back and fourth alongside his walls until you feel the telltale firmness of his prostate, then start on massaging it.

"Ah!" He emits a short, melodical whine at the burst of sensation now seething within him. It drives him one step from crazy as he scrunches his face and unconsciously slaps at your shoulder in a sort of mid-euphoria result.

You huff out a half-laugh, sitting back on your knees so you can get a better view of what you're doing, "Good?"

Chanhee tries to use his words, but by the way you pin him down to the bed with a palm flat against his collarbone before speeding up your hand, he can only manage a broken sob. It's followed by another of the same needy type, but this time, it's louder and causes your stomach to all but flip at the sound. Chanhee throws his head back, thrashing this way and that to somewhat get away from the overwhelming feeling, but also pushing down against it at the same time; all the while your hand keeps him in place.

"I'll take that as a yes," you jest, mostly to yourself because Chanhee sure isn't listening, then bend down slightly to finally turn your focus to his weeping cock. It's full-blooded from being hard for so long, angry red at the tip and jumping every once in a while, especially when you open your mouth to lick a strip from the base to the head.

"P-please I can't! You're gonna make me cum!" Chanhee rushes to sit up, but you push him back down as soon as he tries. He looks absolutely horrified at being so close already.

"And what's the problem with that?"

"I-I just- I don't want to disappoint you."

"Oh, baby," You take your hand from his chest in favor of jerking him off, which he all but chokes at, "It doesn't disappoint me at all. I find it very hot, actually."

"Plea-ease..! Oh!" Chanhee wails one final time before he lets go all over your hand.

It covers your knuckles, dripping white down the side of your thumb as you keep stroking him to help him ride it out. The orgasm must've hit him hard, you think when you look up to see Chanhee shuddering in time with the aftershocks that zap his body every few seconds, eyes closed and skin dewy with a sheen of perspiration.

"Hey, come back to me. You alright? Does your head still hurt?"

He takes a moment to open his eyes, but when they roll open and find your face, he does something that catches you off-guard. He latches himself onto your front, straddling your lap, and rests his head over your shoulder with a sigh.

"Chanhee, hang on a bit, my hand's still dirty and I need to clean you up-"

"In a second. I'm tired."

"You still haven't answered my question."

"Mm, I don't feel like talking right now."

"... You are such a handful."

@vanillaknj @stealerhwa1

[genesisrose74]

HEY BAE OK CAN I GET AN AESTHETIC MATCHUP??? FOR MHA??? IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE MY VIBES BUT IDK I THINK YOU KNOW ME P WELL AND YOU’VE SEEN ME BUT I’LL TELL YOU SOME STUFF: love love love piercings and tattoos! My closet (aside from work clothes) consists of mostly black, brown, gray, white, orange, and red and i like being scary goth sexy awooga😏😏 for music I LOVEEE midwest emo and pop punk but i’m also a total sucker for like indie folk and just vibey flowey music? idk how to describe it but it’s! so! good! my favorite animals are cows and i’m suPer into windmills. i think peak relationship/friendship is bullying the fuck out of each other like straight up cruelty but loving the absolute shit out of each other <3 i like to tease my friends and in person i’m pretty quiet and sarcastic (i’ve heard i’m rude and intimidating if u don’t know me :|) but i am also sweet asf. ok i know this isn’t a vibe matchup but i feel the need to clarify i can be super loud and energetic w my friends but i’m a big mf introvert and people always tell me i have a scowl on my face😐😐 i get asked what’s wrong so often for no reason pls i’m just trying to exist — i’m trying to think of more aesthetics uhhh. i’ll just list specific niche things.“under eye bags and dark circles, calling someone a dumbass with adoration, cigarettes in the dark, cold pavement on your feet early morning, walking in a forest at night, dim lighting and smoky rooms, a laugh filled kiss in secret, music playing in headphones way too loud, impulsive piercings, pushing your s/o around in a shopping cart, laughing too loud, playing with lighters, hair in bubble pigtails or double braids, hiding from the cops” ‼️‼️‼️

RAMSEY MY BELOVED!! When I tell you I was so incredibly excited to write your matchup I hope you take that at its full value because oh my gosh my brain exploded with all the possibilities here. There’s a couple options I think that could have suited you (because your vibe is incredibly chill and fun so it meshes well with a lot of characters), but in the end I without a doubt had to match you up with...

I swear that this shit is not even pandering because I know you’ve got a soft spot for this man — he is the ideal person for you. And in the slim,, almost nonexistent chance that you don’t want this reliable, lovable, dorky dumbass by your side, I will personally step in to take your place because good heavens is he just incredible.

Denki is loud and energetic most of the time, although he does have his share of mellow and sometimes more serious moments. He absolutely adores being around other people, and that sociable attitude is only emphasized when he’s around his closest friends. If you have a bit of trouble meshing with a group or a specific conversation, Denki will notice pretty damn quick and do whatever he can to make you feel comfortable and/or involved.

And if it’s lovable insults you want, he can and will provide. My man is friends with Bakugo Katsuki and the iconic Kyouka Jiro, so he knows how to take a roast and then jab right back if he so pleases. He’ll call you a dumbass in so many subtle ways that it would almost be hurtful if you both didn’t love each other to pieces (which you do), and the fact that you retort with an even sharper tongue makes him incredibly happy. Oh, and if he ever thinks he’s overstepped a line regarding your comfort zone, he won’t hesitate to apologize sincerely.

Denki is canonically a HUGE music fan. That space in his head that was supposed to be for academic knowledge instead harbors extensive information on pop culture and entertainment, and he loves sharing new things with you. Punk? Rock? Indie? He’ll have a taste of it all in his multiple playlists on Spotify Premium. Man turns up his headphone volume so loud that you’re confused as to how he isn’t deaf yet. If you’re having a rough day, he puts those big chunky (noise blocking!) ones over your ears and kisses the top of your head, tossing you his phone and letting you pick any song of preference.

Y’all have mandatory vibe parties in his dorm room every week. They can last as long as five hours without breaks. FIVE FUCKING HOURS. There’s snacks, you help pick out the songs in the queue, and someone nearly breaks an ankle during a transition from Mom Jeans’ “Edward 40hands” into The Oh Hellos’ “Bitter Water” but it’s all good in the end. He’s definitely a hype man too, so expect to dissolve into fits of laughter at his energized attempts to cheer you on.

Oh, he can also play electric guitar, so do with that information what you will. Just kidding, I’ll help boost your imagination a little bit: him teaching you the chords to a song you love while sitting in between his legs on the common room couch. With his fingers just barely grazing over your own as he guides you through. Send tweet.

I just know he doesn’t have a stable sleep schedule, so prep your night owl ass for some late night dorm sneak-in shenanigans and a few deep conversations to follow it. Do you both sometimes fall asleep on the floor of each other’s rooms at 3 am? Yeah...sometimes y’all share three brain cells combined, but it simply adds to your charm.

You make runs off campus together all the time, too! It’s a known fact around the Class 1-A dorm that you both love volunteering for monthly grocery shopping, but everyone finds it hard to trust the sound decision-making of you dorks after the incident — otherwise known as you and Denki spending a good fraction of the school-provided food funds on multiple random snack brands. ‘It was a one time thing,’ you insist, and since no one else wants to go on the grocery store trek they’re inclined to believe it. Some classmates were more excited about that particular event than others (although Kaminari swears on his vintage record collection that he saw Iida indulge himself on a pack of Pretz), so it’s become a regular thing for students to include a couple snack requests on their shopping list.

To sum it up, Denki makes sure that every day is never completely boring, and his primary payment comes in the occasional glimpse of your smile — and maybe a little kissy if that’s okay (yes, he literally says kissy 😘, istg punch him in the stomach or something he’s so fucking dumb). He’s charming in a stupid, dorky way, but so sincere where it counts that you can’t help but love him at all times. He’d love your ass so much and I just know it in my bones that he’d take care of you, throughout all of the stupid shit you experience together.

[chris-hartley]

Check-in tag

“Tagged” 😉 by @sam-giddings

If you wanna do it, say I tagged you. I’m just bored and feel like talking about myself so yeah

1.) Why did you choose your URL

2.) Any side blogs? If so, name them and why you have them

I have 7. @boom-butterfly-effect (my Until Dawn blog that isn’t a mess like this blog is), @little-hope-game (my dark pictures blog). a vent blog, 2 fiction character (aesthetic) blogs, a OTP centric blog and one that I made recently for literally no reason so… yeah

3.) How long have you been on Tumblr?

Well this blog has been around since June 27, 2018 (according to the email I got when it turned 1 lol). But tumblr in general I joined sometime in late 2012 or early 2013.

4.) Do you have a queue tag?

I do (but I don’t use it cause I don’t queue on this blog all that much) #taking queue to the bone zone

5.) Why did you start your blog in the first place?

Cause at the time I was in high school and all of my irl friends had it so I joined and then got SUCKED IN and CANT LEAVE. (Lol I just like that nobody I know irl- except for 1 person who probably won’t even read this- can see any of this stuff and I can actually be myself!)

6.) Why did you choose your icon?

Cause @sam-giddings DREW ME!!! And it looks amazing so it’s now my icon everywhere (literally).

7.) Why did you choose your header?

Fairly certain when I was making this blog I googled “gardenia blooming gif” and used it. Cause gardenia’s are my favorite flower and it looked cool.

8.) What’s your post with the most notes?

It’s a video I took at a Twenty One Pilots concert and it has 250 notes. Followed by this picture from when Rosie Joseph was born with 113 notes.

(I know… both of those are twenty one pilots posts and I am not a tøp blog but here we are)

9.) How many mutuals do you have?

32 but I think there’s some repeats 😅

10.) How many followers do you have?

200!

11.) How many people do you follow?

128

12.) Have you ever made a shitpost?

I feel like my whole #shut up McKenzie tag could be?

13.) How often do you use tumblr per day?

Too much. I cycle through my social media apps on a loop when I’m not at work so probably 10+ times a day

14.) Did you have a fight/argument with another blog? Who won?

The reason I’m so hesitant to do stuff on here sometimes 😅 one time I made a poorly executed joke and some people took it really out of context and I got hate messages and yeah. So there’s some people out there who think I’m a bad person and it’ll haunt me to the day I die.

15.) How do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

Makes me wanna reblog even less.

16/17.) Do you like tag/ask games?

Yes! I’m a narcissist at heart (regrettably) so I love any excuse to talk about myself.

18.) Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

@sam-giddings!!!! (Verify her @staff )

19.) Do I have a crush on a mutual?

Not anymore! That ship has sailed…

[draconia-bsd]

FkuMori- New Year's Kiss

Hey, hi, hello, I have no justification for writing somethig so painfully long, but I hope you like it @vanafloria ♡ uwu

Crimson sunlight barged through the forest of skyscrapers and motels, allowing only a few remaining rays to stumble in a wide white office of a new clinic center, meeting their end either on a tidy desk or on a spotless lab coat of dr. Mori. He owned and managed the whole complex for barely eight months now, and despite it seeming out of place, the surrounding neighbourhood warmly welcomed this new branch of the health industry. Before its arrival, small gangs had a habbit of housebreaking and robbing the entire area, spreading fear amongst its residents and ultimately leading to a decay in economy, which most considered beyond repair. Yet, thanks to the generous heart of this ex war doctor, these problems were solved in the shortest possible time, leading quite a large number of people into an almost religious worship of his being. Fully aware of the fact, Mori dedicated vast amounts of energy in maintaining his public image- as long as the ordinary people were happy with his honey-glazed mask and dulcet words no problems will be caused, they will act as sheep following their shepherd through the fog. This logic, however, was not something he shared with his employees, more precisely his bodyguard, Fukuzawa- a man roughly his own age, but of strong stature. He oftentimes communicated in such a blunt and harsh manner that Mori felt obliged to step in the conversation for the tensions to settle. It was exhausting, especially after explaining him the meaning of his actions numerous times, but in the end, he couldn't afford better. Not only from a materialistic standpoint, but also because Fukuzawa was the best man in his line of work, rising up almost to a level of legend. Even upon a mere mention of his nickname, "The Silver Wolf", most of the underworld's bravest members would quiver, for the man's natural bloodthirst was a force colder and more ruthless than a Russian winter. He was far too valuable for Mori to dismiss and leave in another person's grasp.

In spite of this minor problem though, the business ran precisely as intended. The whole area became a neutral zone after doctor himself spread the word of his refusal to associate with the law enforcement. Sure, he faced hardships and doubt at first, but being spared and trusted by the two biggest crime organisations in town helped significantly. Everyone he knew now thought he was just a simple man who wanted to help people, which, in a way, wasn't even that far from the truth. Thinking about this, Mori didn't even realise he neglected his work until the phone-alarm notified him it was time for his lunchbreak. Feeling only slight discomfort about the matter, he swiftly he draped himself within his feather jacket and headed straight to the nearby bakery. Having stepped outside, his eyes narrowed due to the force of a razor sharp wind jolting his hair, leaving him with a view field wide just enough to get him to the desired destination. The bakery was small, albeit tastefully decorated. It possessed a rustic aesthetic, with its wooden, dark amber walls and shelves that blended so well with them it would be impossible to imagine one without the other, alongside two big square windows, one placed next to the door and the other on the West wall, allowing sunlight to highlight all of the beauty inside. Naturally, as it was Christmas time, decorations added to the aesthetics too, making even the baked goods taste more delicious than usual.

Upon entering, Mori fixed his hair and stepped into the line for making orders. He wasn't quite sure what he was going to get, but the queue was long enough for him to comfortably decide, or so he thought. Suddenly, an old woman came up to him and started a smalltalk asking him about the clinic and poking fun at his hair that he "ought to shorten". This was all an everyday occurrence to which he had gotten used to, up until one question.

"So, how will you spend the New Year's eve, dear?" she said with genuine curiosity.

"Oh, as usual, I shall occupy myself with work." the doctor replied and he truly did mean it. Over time holidays lost their value to him, and while a necessity in this society, he did not enjoy them for the most part, as he felt even more empty during those times, thus trying not to pay them too much attention was the best possible solution.

"Oooh." mumbled the lady "That's noble, but it must be terribly lonely, especially after having spent Christmas at work as well."

Admittedly, Mori was stunned by her bluntness, but he couldn't deny her words, even with his employees by his side, he felt the same as always during this time period. Still, he had to reply with something, so he conveniently used the exact thing he was thinking about for inspiration.

"Don't worry, Fukuzawa will be with me. After all, we are like brothers." he exclaimed, but for some reason didn't understand why he only mentioned this one man.

While they could surely be brothers by age, there wasn't much, apart from his skills, that dazzled him about Fukuzawa. So, brushing this off as a simple element of chitchatting, he continued to talk to the lady until he took his order and left the bakery, sprinting back to his office.

Having walked so fast he almost had difficulty maintaining a normal breathing pattern, he stopped in the entry room to gain some strength. It was now noticeably warmer compared ti the outside, but still, he felt no need to take off his jacked as he felt winter might bite down to his bones. Sitting there like a student in the school yard, he started thinking about his words once again. This time he had the freedom to explore all the possibilities, and an interesting idea occured to him. Mori then finished his meal as usual and headed back to his office, having a few buissnes partners already waiting for him. Unon greeting them politely,he called on Fukuzawa to guard the room until the meeting was over.

...

As dawn neared it's peak, the doctors hands lost their usual composure and craved for a resting place to stop their fatigue caused tremor, but contrary to his body's wishes, Mori took care of his equipment, changed his clothes and ramained to wait for the new shift to start. He didn't have to do this, obviously, but a part of him thought it was right and he hadn't done anything like that in a while. His mind was absent as he gazed into the rising Sun, mesmerised by it's colours and the flickering snow contrasting it. Losing track of time, and eventually his consciousness, the next thing amethyst eyes saw were white strands of hair shimmering next to them, appearing so light and soft they may have been unreal for all Mori knew. This fascination could have continued, but soon a deep voice broke off the illusion and reality came back into place. Fukuzawa was arched over his employer, looking at the weak body with concern.

"Shouldn't you go home and rest properly?" he asked as the younger man shook from his drowse and offered a hand to help him get out of his chair.

It took him quite a while to voice his answer, but nevertheless, Mori agreed with this and the two decided to head towards their homes together. However unusual it may seem, this isn't the first time they travelled together, it happened every once in a while and they would often engage in awkward conversations during it, but lately their communication improved (partially because of their debates about the neighbourhoods residents) so it was definitely a nice opportunity to snatch. Mori freezed as soon as he stepped outside, giving him a subjective feeling that his eyebags suddenly became a few shades darker. Jokingly commenting on this, he was greeted with an attempt of a reply "That's why you shouldn't wear jackets inside." and a smile. Fukuzawa may have been older, but he was definitely the one who had to learn when it came to these things. Still, Mori didn't mind his bodyguard's awkwardness when it was directed at him. He could never pinpoint the exact emotion he felt at those moments, but he knew it was something warm and for a long time he didn't think anything of it, but as of yesterday he became quite keen on exploring it, so he lead the conversation further until the blue eyes had lost their usual harshness. It is true that most of the trip had already passed by that point, but at least it was worthy. Now was the right time to ask:

"Say, what are your plans for the New Year's eve?" Mori continued with his usual tone.

"I assume I will spend it working." Fukuzawa replied coldly, retrieving to his natural attitude.

"Well if that's so, wouldn't you like to make me company during the countdown? It's not like we will leave the clinic, but it's nice to celebrate a bit, no?"

"I- I would have to agree, but what about the patients or the lurking danger?" the silver haired man asked with a serious voices , averting his sky blue orbs to his side.

"Hmm, a few drunks here and there shouldn't be much of a problem. I've had these experiences before, you know?" Mori proclaimed in a pensive tone.

"I don't see anything wrong with it then." Fukuzawa said, much to Mori's delight.

As planned, two men parted ways soon after, heading for their respective homes for a good rest, but somehow neither felt tired anymore.

...

Before coming to his clinic that evening, Mori stoped by an acquaintance's shop at the back of an alley near the town center. The man was a smuggling genius, holding seven mass storages, both in and out of the city, filled with opiates of various kinds, but at this small shop he brought only the finest of alcohol- be it original or fake, he had it all, oftentimes so well matched in characteristics that the drink's authenticity was for the consumer to evaluate. Despite this tho, he would never put Mori in the said position, for he owed him greatly. The store itself had two levels, the lower being almost twice as big as the one above, but nonetheless well-equipped with rare finds. Overall aesthetic was quite modern, filled with various shades grey as well as few metallic surfaces (shelves and the register most notably), but it would've been extremely bland if there werent a few pop art paintings hanging on the walls and bringing some actual colour in the room. Not really how most would imagine a liquor store, but it possessed a certain charm, especially for upstart people who stood in awe upon entering, with greedy eyes drinking from every bottle they recognized from a magazine they read before that one party in order to impress a lovely nobleman. But unlike these people, Mori wasn't all that impressed by this space, he already set his goal and this was simply the best way to fulfil it. He followed his acquaintance to a certain part of the store and upon a short wait, the man came back with what the doctor wanted- a bottle of Highland Park '68 . With a delighted smirk on his face Mori expressed his gratefulness and exchanged a few business related ideas with the smuggler.

Having put the bottle of expensive whisky in his bag, he set for the clinic, arriving earlier than usual although there wasn't much he planned to do but sorting some paperwork. Emerged in work, time flew by and before he knew it the clock hit nine, marking the beginning of Fukuzawa's work hours. Forseeably, he arrived on time and made his presence known to Mori immediately. Though his tone and words were professional, there were hints of insecurity behind them as he didn't quite know how to hold himself that night. As it is only natural, the dark haired man noticed this and decided to put his plan to action. Dramatically proclaiming his exhaustion, Mori suggested they both take a glass of whisky and without hesitation Fukuzawa accepted this offer. After all, the Silver Wolf was no stranger to alcohol, most notably spirits. He didn't know exactly why he liked this type of liquor to such an extent, but he never concerned himself with that question- the taste and the high was all that mattered, and surprisingly, this drink possessed both of the said qualities. Sitting in chairs, much like a doctor and a patient would, they sipped their drinks slowly, expressing thoughts of it's taste, colour and scent, but other than that the conversation seemed to end, making the whole situation awkward for a short while- until the rush of alcohol hit them. It did require two glasses of whisky, but it was worthy, as Fukuzawa relaxed significantly after every sip he took. Mori wasn't much of a drinker himself, so seeing this big, strong man getting tipsy before him was a pleasant surprise, and not only that, but his cheeks were slightly red emphasizing his blue eyes to the point where Mori had to put extreme effort not to stare at their beauty. Instead, the doctor started talking about their common mentor- Natsume Soseki. This proved to be a good topic of choice as Fukuzawa lead the story of their meeting and later anecdotes from trainings. Like the one time his sensei tried to catch a butterfly with his bare hands, or the time he casually lounged not on the regular sitting area of the couch but on it's back. This made Mori laugh more than he had imagined, to the point his abdominal muscles hurt, actually. This reminded him of his experience with Natsume-sensei, so naturally, he decided to share his discovery of the mentors unreasonably big collection of cardboard boxes.

Stories of their mentor soon turned into jokes, but after continuous use of whisky, the conversation took a more serious turn. They didn't remember how they got to the topic of loneliness, but it was obvious neither of them particularly enjoyed the subject.

"Loneliness increases inner strength and individuality, but our human nature is always there to chain our improvement." Fukuzawa claimed.

"Isn't it also in our human nature to adapt and evolve? While it is necessary, is it truly the only way we can help our growth? After all, even plants die if watered too much, don't they?" the younger man replied, but was met with silence.

"Well, it is New Year's eve after all, we shouldn't be talking about such things!" Mori added in a silvery voice, putting his usual smile on.

Forcing a smile on his face, the older of the two extended his arm to get his glass "If that's the case, why don't you pour me another one, doctor?"

Almost mechanically doing as he was asked, Mori suddenly remembered "Ah, wait!" he exclaimed as he jerked the bottle "It's not midnight yet, we should wait for the countdown, look how little we have left!"

Blue orbs focused on the bottle and blinked in surprise "Wow, that much? I mean, we drank that much."

Mori laughed to this reaction and fell off his chair from the force he used to nod his head, which in response caused Fukuzawa to snort as he lent him a helping hand. As expected from a drunk person though, the fallen didn't get up, but instead pulled the the other one down with him. With both of them on the floor now, they continued giggling like a pair of teenagers smoking behind their school, hoping not to get caught. It was strange how well they can get along, given the chance. As they sat next to each other, Fukuzawa took Mori's hand without a word and moved it close to him, causing the other man to blush, but before he could do anything the Silver Wolf narrowed his eyes and drew his head close to the handwatch to examine it.

"Two more minutes until countdown!" he said as he turned around to face Mori, who at this point had a perplexed look on his face and was only able to utter an "oh".

Fukuzawa then quickly crawled to the table an brought the bottle to a still confused doctor.

"Eh and the glasses?" Mori asked.

"Ugh. Who cares." the other replied with a sigh.

With their eyes fixed on the watch, these two anxiously waited for the final ten seconds. It seemed that time passed much slower now that they stopped talking, but that didn't really bother Mori. He could feel the pressure of his head leaning against the other and soft white hair caressing his cheek- in a way, he even wanted this to continue. Alas, the time they waited for came and both of them counted until zero, but before doctor wished his bodyguard a happy New Year, Fukuzawa was already taking a sup of the old whisky. It was unlike his usual, compound self, to disrespect a custom, but he was extremely drunk by this point, so the younger man took it as such. Sensing that the time is right, he started gently removing the bottle from Fukuzawa's mouth, advising him not to swallow the drink as he cupped the confused man's face and moved his own body close to his, giving him a deep and slow kiss. It was bitter and it burned, but he would give anything to do it over and over again.

"Happy New Year." he said weakly upon breaking the kiss and catching his breath.

"Yeah. You too." a flustered Fukuzawa replied, still in shock over what had just happened.

After remaining in the same position for a few seconds, Mori decided to back away, thinking this was all a bad idea to begin with, but as he was about to move, he felt strong arms holding him back and draging him even closer to them.

"Mmm? What?" he asked teasingly, but his lips were locked in a kiss before he knew it.

Who coud have guessed such passion laid behind those cold blue eyes? Those who seemed so detached and out of reach, slowly luring him into lust day by day... are they even the same as these fierce, devine eyes before him? Mori wondered, but that was a question that had to wait for the next day. All he craved now was to be liberated from his bottled up desires, and his saviour was ready.

[hellspathfinder]

Fuck-It List

With an upgrade to Lieutenant Colonel and a new mission, Freya gathers her team and departs.  They have been commanded by their queen to assemble the rare ingredients to create a tathlum, a weapon of unknown destructive power. Unknown because the Queen’s list includes far more powerful variants of the items historically used by the Kellid Barbarians who are believed to be the originators of this darkest of rituals.

They strike North. Passing within sight of Citadel Gheistano but daring not to trespass, they head into Nidal. They easily avoid the Nidalese patrols for even though they are allies, they wish for no delays. 

Visiting a town in search of the Cave-Giants lair, Draymus murders a man, and animates him. He forces his new thrall to show the party where the Cave-Giants latest attacks took place. With Reese tracking and scouting, they easily locate the creatures lair and use their new thrall as bait. Taken by surprise, the giants are no match for them. Freya defeats several in single combat, unlocking new runes on her dwarven-champion’s belt.

Turning back South into Cheliax and then East towards Isger, they follow a thin history of clues that there are Frost Giants living in the mountains between Isger and Molthune. Unfortunately between them and their goal lies a massive undead army, assembled by the Wight Mother who is a true Chosen of Urgathoa. Draymus explains that she was such a powerful and inspiring necromancer when alive, the Goddess Urgathoa rewarded her with unimaginable power in unlife. She has been steadily amassing troops in these mountains for almost a century.

Draymus is able to cut a deal with the Wight Mother that allows the group passage through, as the Wight Mother is very interested in the Frost Giants utter removal from even the least desirable parts of her land. To this they agree and they travel farther up the snowy peak. They have never felt cold such as this, and they struggle to endure it until Reese alone slays a Dire Polar Bear and crafts winter clothing out of its thick hide.

Traveling on, they ask themselves why a demigod with a massive army of undead would have any trouble dispensing with a small community of Frost Giants and they soon have their answer.

The skull of a truly great dragon lies before them. Well beyond the size of any known dragons that roam the world now, Draymus theorizes it is a fallen god from an age passed 10,000 years ago. Standing before it, they find several greater undead frozen harmlessly in place. One is an animated skeleton of a Storm Giant, and the others are greater winter-wights.

Draymus feels a tinge of the oppressive aura that has trapped these undead. He surmises that as he is still technically a living being, he is not directly affected but the dragon’s bones emit a powerful magical aura not unlike the spell “halt undead.” He guesses then that this must have been an ancestor of Gold or Silver dragons, being of such pure good that even in death it wards against evil.

They pass through the skull and successfully locate the Frost Giants home and thoroughly scout their defenses. Rather than fight them, the team opts to try to cut a deal. Draymus uses his extensive library of illusion and deception magics to momentarily amuse the Wight Mother, who they believe is watching them.

Freya, Jamal, and Reese travel forward and ask to speak with the chief of the Frost Giants. They meet “Skadi,” a tall and slender female Frost Giant who is their leader. She carries a long steel chain that appears to be made of glowing blue ice, and she demands they leave. Freya stands firm and offers her terms of their passage, and on a whim, requests a formal meeting. Skadi accepts.

The team eats and drinks, while Freya and Skadi enter an ever escalating legal argument about property, trespassing, hereditary rights, international borders, and old feuds between the Frost Giants and various other entities. This argument rages back and forth for some time, with the Giants and Jamal becoming intoxicated while Freya remains strong. Eventually she gains the upper hand in the argument and not only wins passage through the area, but earns several cultural items the Giants have recovered but have no use for.

The only thing Skadi required of them was to remove a nuisance. On the North side of the mountain range, down a long slope leading into the country of Molthune, there lives a remorhaz so large and fierce, it’s like has never been seen or documented. It has claimed the lives of three of Skadi’s tribe, but still they would keep the monster in tact. It does not come farther up the mountain, and acts as an impassable barrier to any would-be trespassers from the North, while the dragon bones & undead army protect the only other path.

What she wants removed is a box. She alludes to it’s contents and after some near-fatal scouting by Reese, they learn it is an ornately carved and magically reinforced coffin. Draymus quickly surmises that it is the travel coffin of a Nidalese vampire of some import, a Noble or other VIP.

Using the rotting bear carcass as a zombified distraction, they lure the Remorhaz away from the coffin and fly it down the slope. There is a further danger however, as they leave the suppression zone created by the dragon skeleton, the Wight Mother perceives their location and their betrayal. Portals open up before them and massively powerful undead lumber through. In the moment of surprise caused by this, they drop the coffin.

It opens slightly and quickly closes again, but Freya sees a shape dart out of it and hide behind a nearby building. It appears to be a young woman, totally normal in appearance. 

She quickly assesses the battlefield and says to Freya “we should go.” The party takes this queue and flies quickly out of reach of the powerful undead, resolving to not return to the pass of Dark Rain until they are much better equipped to deal with such powers.

Stopping to breathe, the girl introduces herself as Lady Violetta Pavel of Nidal. She is a Noblewoman, appointed diplomat sent to represent Nidal to Queen Abrogail II herself, and yes, a vampire. She has been trapped in her coffin for nearly a year and as such is very thirsty for blood. Freya obliges her with a cup of her own.

She quickly surmises that after having been stuck in the ice for a year, she will have been replaced. Her responsibility is still to report what intelligence she has to Queen Abrogail II and to her masters back in Nidal. Given her rank and authorization papers she shows them, she could command them to escort her safely to either location except that Freya is on a mission ordered by the Queen herself and nothing may interfere. Violetta recognizes this, and wishes to assist.

Even with time pressing down on them, the party splits up to teleport Draymus to Nidal to seek a doctor skilled enough to put his brain in a jar. Meanwhile, Freya, Jamal, Reese, and Jason head to Citadel Dinyar to recon the situation. The Glorious Reclamation took this fortress nearly a year ago and has held it ever since. 

Built fairly recently, Citadel Dinyar is nearly unassailable. It is built as two separate keeps joined by a bridge between them over a deep chasm in a very rocky area. A visit from Corrine earlier revealed to them that there was one survivor of the Glorious Reclamation’s initial assault: a young hellknight-signifier commanded by his superiors to flee and inform the capital of what transpared. He did so and also spent several hours with Corrine revealing all he knows of the secret door.

Jamal and Reese find it with relative ease and the party begins plans to assault the rebels from the bowels of their stolen fortress. They hope that some Hellknights of the Godclaw may still be alive in it’s dungeons.

[oldeazeroth]

I wanna break the fourth wall for a moment to talk about something a little more personal. Hopefully you all don't mind lol. As I've mentioned before, I started playing on a private Burning Crusade server earlier this year. This was super exciting to me, because my original experience with the game lasted from around 2005-2010. Vanilla WoW, Burning Crusade and Wrath all had a lot of special memories for me. After 2010, I didn't pick up the game again until the release of Legion in 2016. I've played the live version of the game on and off ever since then.

This isn't at all a statement about the current state of WoW, but something that sort of bummed me out was that older expansions were so sped up that they were hardly part of the game. You could level from 1-80 without stepping into more than a few zones on each continent. You could even just dungeon queue your way through, never once leaving Orgrimmar. Even though the old content was still there, there was no way to experience it in the way that it was designed to be played.

That is why getting to experience this content again, on a private server, has been so incredibly special. I was surprised that I had to utilize nearly every zone in Azeroth in order to reach max level. I had to spend time in each one, and because of that, I got to take in so much more of the details that make this world so rich. I felt actual tension walking through Booty Bay for the first time, seeing the red names of high level alliance walk by me, as armed goblin mercenaries stood guard to keep the peace. I love that as you get to level 40+ zones, you start to truly feel like you're a traveler on a frontier. Zones like Azshara, Silithus, Un'goro, Searing Gorge, don't have villages or inns, but instead, bare bones outposts. Some are managed by neutral factions, like the Cenarion Circle, untouched by either horde or alliance. The world feels huge, and those regions feel so remote, even dangerous. Silithus hives spread underground to Un'goro, Feralas, even as far as Thousand Needles. You travel from Tirisfal Glades, to the slightly plagued Western Plaguelands, all the way to the fully diseased Eastern Plaguelands. There is just so much beauty in the way this world was designed!

Sorry if this all sounds really dorky lol. I'm just reminded of what made Azeroth so mysterious and enticing in the first place. And now, I've nearly made it to the end. I've gotten to level 57, and soon I'll be taking the portal to Outland, which I'm also very excited for. I don't intend to make posts like this often, so please don't think this blog is changing in any way. I've just been having a lot of thoughts re-experiencing the vanilla zones, and while normally this blog is not a personal one, I figured some of you guys could relate to these feelings.

Pictured above is my character, a Tauren druid with exactly the same name and appearance as my original WoW character from 2006 (lovely pre-trasmog armor and all lol) It has been so special to play as her again :)