#the curse... it rebounds

[thenarrativefoil]

betrayed by the potatoes once again

[negrowhat]

Fave Kisses of 2024

Continuing on with the handful of prompts I chose to do from @babyangelsky 's 2024 QL Wrap Up!

JackJoke's First Kiss from Jack & Joker. Oh it was like the tension pot had finally started to boil. Just bubbling and brewing and steam was finally escaping...whistling even. Jack had returned home full on ready to finally confess and Joke, who already KNEW, was sitting there ready to receive his blessing. Oh Joke was so ready for that kiss that he practically climbed into Jack's lap to keep it going. You could see the hunger in Joke's eyes and Jack's eager but gentle approach to the kiss. 10/10.

Dohoe and Juyeong's Snow Kiss from Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo. Something about the way they kind of lost themselves in that kiss. I was shocked Dohoe kissed Juyeong out in the open like that, but he was in a different place in his journey so maybe it's not so shocking. Juyeong's hands around Dohoe's waist??? Oh it was my favorite part and my heart all but stopped when Dohoe suddenly came to his senses and pulled away.

GreatTyme's Guitar Kiss from 4 Minutes. That soft ass dream kiss from Dr. Tyme's 4 Minutes had me absolutely OBSESSED. Idk it was just so romantic and so sweet and so perfect. I could just feel the warmth coming from the bubble Tyme was dreaming about. Tyme's 4 Minutes is still my absolute fave part of the whole series.

Huai'en and Xiabao's First Kiss from Meet You At the Blossom. I've talked about it and talked about it and talked about it some more. None of y'all are surprised to see this kiss on this list. I don't even need to explain why because I'm sick of explaining lol. Go watch our first ever Uncensored Wuxia BL. Nothing is implied it's all there. Go watch it now! MYATB is from the same writer of My Stand-In if that helps.

Sickly Phaya kisses Tharn from The Sign. That man woke up from a coma (that almost supernaturally killed him), snatched out his IV, and escaped the hospital. And where did he go? Not to go check-in with his lil granny and baby sister! NO! He went to his man's house and shoved his tongue down his throat. Man was white as a sheet and all he wanted to do was get his dick wet. And Tharn just let him. I loved that kiss and the makeout session that followed.

YakDee over shoulder kiss from Wandee Goodday. Pretty certain it was from their last love scene because they were kissing. I don't even remember how the scene went exactly (they fucked so much) but that lil peck over the shoulder was so gorgeous. Yak had his chest pressed to Dee's back and the 'YY' necklace was displayed so clearly. 100/10.

XNamping's High Heat Encounter from Every You, Every Me. That little peck right before things started to heat up. Just a quick lil lip touch to gauge the temperature...y'know see if it's what they both really want. It is. I know X was FREAKING out, couldn't believe he was finally being intimate with his long time crush.

SanVee's final night kiss from Century of Love. I'm a huge fan of the soft cuddly kisses we got from SanVee and that snuggle session we got right before San's last day was my fave. The way San holds Vee to his chest so tightly as they share gentle kisses. The impending doom hanging heavy over their heads. It hurt so fucking good.

RyuZen's Shower Kiss from The Rebound. One thang MeenPing gon do is kiss in a shower and do it right. Meen's giant ass does a great job of making Ping look smol and when you add water to that it is just so visually pleasing. I don't remember much else about the kiss except Ryu was all over Zen and Zen almost couldn't keep up. If we get another MeenPing series I hope it can sit at the top next to Gangster Oppa.

2J Bathroom Kiss from CityBoy_Log. The most recent volume of CBL was really good for 2J. They had just made up after Jihan ghosted Jaejun and IDK how Jihan conned Jaejun into helping him bathe but they do wind up in the tub together, fully clothed though because Jaejun said he was just going to help him wash his hair. And the next thing I know Jihan has Jaejun pressed up against the shower wall. 2J's kisses tend to be very audible and this one was amplified and my gawd those boys can kiss. And when Jaejun slams Jihan against the other wall and they finally share their 'I Love You's I was clutching the pearls. I'm realizing I enjoyed CBL more than I thought.

SunJunior's First Kiss from Caged Again. Oh it was so sweet. Love that they were hiding under the covers. I love that Sun had finally told Junior about him being a panther. That's a big secret to share and it did give me Malec vibes which could also add to my love for the scene. Love that Junior smiled at Sun the whole time. It was a great first kiss during a vulnerable moment for Sun and Junior. Loved how warm and secure it looked under that cover.

To my mutuals, please forgive me if y'all have multiple mentions from this one post...

[ppeonppeonhan]

I don't understand how all of these BL guys are taking their man home to meet their parents, and then having s*x in their childhood bedroom 3-5ft from where their parents are sleeping.

How soundproofed is this room? How deaf are your parents? How locked is this door?

[color-beyond-lines]

me: attempting to watch 8 currently airing series

also me: watchlist of 20+ series

still me: hits play on every new series that starts

[moutheyes]

The Year in QL: 2024 Top 10 and Appreciation for Original Scripts

For the first time in five years I managed to sit my ass down and finish a yearly roundup post, so I'm cross-posting some of it here. You can read the whole thing (including expanded blurbs) HERE; it has some number breakdowns and the rest of my ratings.

Top 10 of 2024

10. The Rebound (8.0)

My good friend C. has excellently articulated a “grand theory of anime” that I kept thinking about while watching this show:

an anime is any series that combines (1) “manic purity,” (2) internally consistent, if deranged, character motivations, and (3) suspension of disbelief wrt worldbuilding/setting.

The Rebound is anime. It is anime in the form of a batshit insane live-action basketball BL that was tailor-made for me as a viewer and for Meen (a real-life basketball player! I’m not sure if hoops is his side gig or if kissing men is his side gig, and honestly I don’t care!) and Ping as actors. There is absolutely no way to fit this series into any sort of real-world logical framework, and in fact its closest comp title might be the under-appreciated sapphic-ish anime Birdie Wing: Golf Girls’ Story, because it follows a very similar trajectory in which the first two-thirds of the show takes you on a series of sharp descents into chaos involving mafia elements, underground betting on street ball, toxic old man yaoi, and wildly disproportionate stakes like kidnapping and worse, the culmination of which made me black out from the sheer amount of adrenaline coursing through my veins, but then they… go back to high school? to play high school basketball? You have to respect a script that does not respect reality.

The actual basketball in this show was barely recognizable as an organized sport, but on the other hand the story was so engaging, with thoughtful emotional arcs, multiple instances of unrequited love, and a second lead people could actually root for—and did, to the point where some folks felt poly-baited. I don’t know if I want to fight Golf Tanwarin or if I want to give them all of my money to make more shows like this.

9. Only Boo! (8.0)

Sometimes a show doesn’t need to do anything groundbreaking to win me over. Sometimes it just needs a protagonist who is a charming bundle of hopes and doubts and desires and unceasing gumption, and a love interest who is Doing His Best, and enough youthful earnestness to melt a cold dead heart (mine). Only Boo! was a triumphant debut for Keen (Moo, who I wanted to eat with a spoon) and Sea (Kang, stoic and self-sacrificing), and the first two-thirds of the story—everything leading up to the idol arc—was pitch-perfect, as bad student/aspiring idol Moo shamelessly flirted his way past food vendor Kang’s measly defenses, opening his eyes to not just the possibility of love, but also his own dormant dreams of being an artist. While the last third, centered around Moo’s idol life, suffered from uneven execution, especially regarding some of the subplots, the show had done enough by then to establish Kang and Moo’s relationship as one that was worth seeing through, and every bit of sweetness at the end felt earned.

8. Dead Friend Forever (8.5)

This was unlike any other show I watched in QL this year—an anguished, ambitious horror fable that showcased BOC’s best young talent at the time. DFF was a mashup of ’90s slasher flicks, even older closed-room mysteries dating back to Agatha Christie (And Then There Were None, obviously), contemporary horror as social critique, and folk and spiritual elements from Thai horror.

This was dark as hell; the shit that Non (played by Barcode, who broke me with this role) went through, at the hands of his supposed friends as well as almost every single person who was in a position to help him, was really difficult to watch. As vicious and manipulative and cowardly as the teens were, though, the more tragic and enraging failures happened at the adult and societal level. Family that shunned instead of accepted, enabled instead of educated, adults that preyed instead of protected, police that obfuscated instead of investigated, and so on. The visual storytelling was stunning, the thrills and twists were more of the hold-your-breath variety, and the final set piece was a bold choice that required a lot of careful setup to pull off, and I loved the way it all played out.

7. Peaceful Property (8.5)

This was GMMTV’s best show of the year, as well as its most creative offering since The Warp Effect, boasting a fresh concept and original script, solid production value (the vibrant color palette made me so happy), and a main cast that not only played off one another well (a real challenge when it comes to comedy!) but also had genuine chemistry beyond the romantic kind. Also, a personal weakness: the repeated motif of a communal dining table. The ghost hunter/exorcism setup served as a natural backdrop for slapstick, supernatural/horror elements, and camp, but there was an intentional gravitas baked into the story from the outset. I was really hooked by the socioeconomic commentary (should have seen it coming with the real estate angle, dammit) vis-a-vis the ghost of the week, which asked some important questions—who gets to have their story told, whose lives are deemed valuable and whose are deemed disposable, and, of course, the true meaning of a home.

6. Jack & Joker: U Steal My Heart! (8.5)

Perhaps more than any other project this year, J&J represented a truly maverick vision. The script was a maximalist whirlwind, the production quality was superb, and for the most part the show accomplished what I think it set out to do. Every episode was jam-packed, which meant the series itself felt laden in the best way, like a holiday feast. There was an increasingly ill-advised series of heists! So many disguises (including drag)! Pointed commentary on the cruel realities of socioeconomic disparity! Sadistic rich people behavior! Lovable grandma and young neighborhood spitfire stealing scenes! So much groveling!

The focus on community was a strong thread throughout, with Jack and Joke’s individual journeys woven firmly through. My personal preference would have been a grittier, more bittersweet ending, given the build-up to a high-stakes climax, but for a largely self-funded and self-driven passion project, this was genuinely impressive from start to finish. It managed to balance heart, humor, action, romance, and social commentary, while showcasing powerhouse performances from YinWar (these two men can Cry), and will remain one of my favorites purely on those merits.

5. Love in the Big City (9.0)

There was no way I wasn’t going to watch this, but the more I learned about the production process and its struggles and triumphs, the more invested I became, to the point where I was worried that I had overhyped it in my mind. Turns out, one of the best novels about queer urban life can in fact also produce one of the best shows about queer urban life, one that celebrates all the joy and wonder and messiness of dating and romance while still foregrounding the intense loneliness that can make a person self-sabotage, or leave them unmoored despite having a solid support system. Nam Yoon-su delivered a layered, poignant performance as Go Young, showing all his human parts—the likable and difficult sides alike—and portraying his growth over time along with the relationships that came and went. Speaking of, the elliptical structure of the novel posed an interesting adaptation challenge, and the series took a creative approach by employing a different director for each of the four “chapters” of Go Young’s story, which paid off with subtle but appreciable differences in each of the two-episode arcs.

4. Knock Knock Boys! (9.0)

There was something magical in this original script, which gave the four housemates room to establish real platonic intimacy, talk frankly about sex and love, and otherwise become real bros, and the romantic relationships developed out of all that healthy organic communication, which was quietly kinda radical for BL. Outside of the feelings stuff, the show also packed in slapstick, hijinks, sex ed, family drama, and most importantly, the Awkward Sex Scene Of My Dreams. Latte was rightfully a fandom-favorite character of the year, but the show succeeded on the back of a real team effort, and I know I’ll go back to this show as a comfort watch in the future. Amazing how four dudes sharing a chaotic home-cooked breakfast (see also: personal weakness; visual motif) after a night of hard drinking can alter your brain chemistry!

3. Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo (9.0)

After struggling to fully connect with some of Hwang Da-seul’s previous work, I can say that she did something special with LFCT. The way the script dealt with the titular curse — which encompasses cycles of abuse, childhood trauma, and debilitating societal pressure — was sometimes feather-light and required deep attention paid to the small visual details, but it never pulled its punches when it came to Big Feelings, nor did the un-cursening progress along a linear path, which felt frustratingly realistic. Do-hoe and Ju-yeong were but mere babes at the start of the series, navigating through late adolescence while hiding deep scars and shouldering heavy burdens. After things went terribly wrong, that rupture affected each of them differently in the 12 years afterward. Watching them try to reconcile while picking at old wounds was painful, but it was so easy to root for them, both separately and together, both in their teens and as adults—and even more than falling back in love, I wanted them to heal, to experience that moment of catharsis when the curse was finally lifted.

2. My Stand-In (9.0)

This show was actual catnip for me. It wasn’t on my radar at all, but I followed the buzz from fandom and was rewarded with an utterly thrilling second-chance narrative featuring two of the most compelling characters of the year. The concept of a stand-in (stuntman, lover, body) pulled triple duty to delicious effect, the post-transmogrification part was handled especially well through the use of mirrors and other reflective surfaces, and there was also a welcome streak of absurdity to balance out the pathos of Joe’s story. My Stand-In was just excellent on all fronts, from Poom and Up fully embodying their complex characters, to the elegance of the adaptation, a sustained sense of high drama, and sweeping romance. I knew the show had me by the throat when I found myself deliriously anticipating the moment when Ming and Joe would finally fuck in missionary.

1. 4 Minutes (Sultrier Version) (9.5)

From a technical standpoint, no other show I watched this year came close to the cinematic qualities of 4 Minutes—the use of visual motifs, framing, and editing were all exquisite, and the acting was also superb across the board, with Fuaiz giving a breakout performance in the role of horny vengeful twink Tonkla. But I was also deeply impressed with how the themes played out, as characters grappled with the repercussions of guilt and redemption, vengeance and acceptance, life and death. To me this was a story about how flawed the human heart is and how rare the chance for salvation is. It wasn’t quite perfect—the speculative aspects didn’t resolve all that neatly (perhaps they are saving it for the tentative sequel?), and I think the pacing could have benefitted from one more episode to let the story breathe a bit—but I loved that it was a serious, mature show that asked metaphysical questions and managed to strike an ending note that was both bittersweet and intensely hopeful.

Originals vs. Adaptations

I started tracking original scripts vs. adaptations this year, and actively used it as a tiebreaker to determine my top 10 rankings, because to me there’s value in rewarding creativity when it comes to pure screenwriting. Obviously there were some standout adaptations this year—there are many thoughtful posts on Tumblr about the choices My Stand-In made to transform the source material (a Chinese danmei) for a Thai audience, for example. And Love in the Big City took a well-known, internationally beloved novel and brought in four different directors to helm each of the story’s four sections, which enriched the viewing experience. But when it came to QL as a genre, I found myself genuinely captivated by the diversity of the original scripts, to the point where they counted for 7 of my top 10 series of the year; put another way, 7 of the 9 originals that I watched this year were extremely high-quality shows.

I mean, look at the scope of material! Deeply unhinged high school sports/crime BL (The Rebound); queer ensemble mystery-horror mashup that was sad as fuck (Dead Friend Forever); ghostbusters found family bromance (Peaceful Property); we found love in a hopeless place.mp3 with heists and crying (Jack & Joker); a romantic dramedy with four housemates—I know it sounds so mundane next to everything else but I promise they are all hot messes (Knock Knock Boys); nostalgic angst-fest that wants to know if the couple that trauma-bonds together can trauma-break together (Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo); and time slip speculative thriller sponsored exclusively by Durex and cat food (4 Minutes).

Spectacular, give me 14 (more) of ’em right now.

Some scattered thoughts:

Part of my struggle with adaptations is the fact that Thai-language Y-novels aren’t more readily available in official English translations outside of the more popular creators, so it’s hard to use them as a reference point. Every time I’m watching a QL adaptation, there’s always the questioning voice in my mind wanting to know if there were any substantial changes made, how different the end product was from the source material, etc. Sometimes a Thai speaker will pop into a Reddit thread to share their thoughts, and I’m endlessly grateful to Tumblr users like @clairedaring who provide comparisons and commentary for adapted series like My Stand-In and Spare Me Your Mercy, but access to that information across the vast swath of Thai BL is patchy at best if you don’t know the language.

While it’s important to evaluate work independently if it spans across mediums (or even adaptations by different countries)—and I do it out of necessity for most Thai shows, as explained in the previous point—there’s also a natural compulsion to want to make those comparisons. If a show starts to go off the rails a bit, and I know it was adapted from a novel, then I get curious about whether the problem is rooted in the source material itself or stems from the adaptation process. I’m inclined to start my criticisms at the screenwriter and director level, since they are responsible for the final script and on-screen product, but without knowing how the original work unfolds, it’s hard to determine what the ideal fix might be. You can’t just say screw the source material, after all.

I think Sammon is a great case study on the challenges of taking a completed work and trying to retrofit it for a different medium (i.e. adaptation) versus working freely within certain parameters from the beginning (i.e. original script). Until collaborating with BOC this year on the original scripts for Dead Friend Forever and 4 Minutes, we’ve only seen her own work made into shows, with varying degrees of success. Even as recently as this week, we saw that tension play out in the fandom reception to Spare Me Your Mercy, which was adapted by a separate writing team; the challenge of trimming down two volumes of plot into 8 episodes while maintaining the thematic richness of the story resulted in certain sacrifices being made by the screenwriter. On the other hand, with 4 Minutes, you didn’t have to wonder if there were parts of the story that were left behind in the adaptation process, because presumably the show more or less reflected the exact story she intended to tell. (Obviously things get cut in the editing process, but Sammon isn’t sitting there having to discard entire years’ worth of plot because of time or budget constraints, unlike what happened with SMYM.) Thus you can evaluate any flaws in the storytelling directly.

I’m going to make a separate post looking ahead to 2025 but I will say that if I do find myself needing to prioritize my time, originality may become a bigger deciding factor. GMMTV actually has a decent slate of non-adaptations coming up, and I’m also looking forward to whatever WeTV and Viu have in the pipeline as original series, since they had a pretty good track record for me this year. (Not to spoil anything before we even turn the calendar, but Caged Again is well on its way to making that top 10, so count that as another WeTV win.)

[randomfirebug-142]

"Villain and Violent" but it's Senator Shockwave through Auto's eyes as he feels himself getting torn apart.

"Infant and innocent" as Auto wraps his hands around Shockwave's one. Fully aware of his deeds. Hell, he's even helped in a good amount of them, seeing that he's basically Shockwave's assistant, even if he doesn't know too much about science. He trusts in Shockwave to guide him through safely.

"Over the dead sea keeping you company, thinking I'm unafraid of you now, I’m unafraid of you now" them 'looking for samples' (they lie to themselves) by the sea of rust on a dead and destroyed planet??? AUH,,,,,,,,,,

"Pulling your face close, wanting the inmost, show me. I’m not afraid of you now. I’m not afraid of you now." i aM GOING TO EXPLODEEEE AUUGHHHHHHH;;;;;;;

→

[gothicbarbie]

MY TOP 10 BL COUPLES OF 2024

Once again, I am a little late, but better late than never! A few reminders:

-I'll be posting these from least favorite to favorite.

-No shows that finished in 2025 (even early 2025) will be included on this list, they will likely be on the 2025 list.

-If any of these wonderful gif makers want me to remove their gifs I will, just ask me! But credit is linked on/below the gifs. Here's to 2025 being just as amazing!

2023 List:

I will not be writing anything about the pairings in this small collage, but I did really enjoy their chemistry and plots and they were close to making the top 10, but not quite.

These next pairs were SO close to making the top ten but just missed out. I loved the chemistry between all these couples but I did feel like the storylines here were a tad bit lacking in some cases (My Stand in was toxic AF for example lol!). They didn't enthrall me as much as the top 10 but I still appreciated them.

Honorary Mentions:

Ming & Joe | My Stand In

This was a pretty interesting series, though, I admit I did skim through a lot of it. I mainly watched it for the chemistry between the main two. Like I said before, it was EXTREMELY toxic, but it was fun to watch regardless.

Dae Young & Jung Ha | Seoul Blues

This company made quite a few mini series this year and they all had sort of the same vibe to me, but I thought these two had the best chemistry of all of the pairs. They just seemed the most comfortable acting together. It would be great to see them get a longer BL series together.

Tai & Kram | Two Worlds

MaxNat are just so damn good together. Their kisses are definitely top tier. While this series wasn't my absolute favorite from this year, I really enjoyed seeing these two on screen again and love that they got the focus. They just work together.

Great & Tyme | 4 Minutes

This was a really good series that I need to rewatch and pay more attention to, because I do admit, it lost me a bit near the ending. But the chemistry between these two was so good! It was refreshing to see a series with some somewhat older actors in a more mature role/setting. Also the love scenes were A+.

Jack & Joke | Jack and Joker

YinWar is one of my all time favorite pairs and I did love that they got this role and that they had such a say in the creation of it. I personally didn't love the series as much as I have enjoyed some of their previous work, but I do love the couple and their progression through the series. They were close to making the top 10 for me but some others just slightly edged them out.

Sprite & First | Twins the Series

I was surprised to love this series as much as I did, I actually really enjoyed it and found it really fun, in all aspects, not just the main duo. But these two had crazy good chemistry together and I just loved watching the build up week by week and seeing their story progress.

Top 10!

#10. Methas & JJ | This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans

These two were so damn fun to watch. The main pairing was great too but I preferred the side pair. Hate to Love is one of my favorite tropes and these two didn't disappoint.

#09. Ryu & Zen | Rebound the Series

Another fun sports BL that I enjoyed mostly every storyline of. These two are one of those BL pairs that just gets better with each series they do together. They have such a sweet chemistry together and I liked the back story of their characters in this series.

#08. Babe & Charlie | Pit Babe

Definitely one of my favorite BL's of the year, if not all time. It was just such a fun and different sort of series and I think the actors did such a fantastic job in their roles. They really made you feel the connection between Charlie and Babe. Their dynamic was so sexy and fun to watch play out too.

#07. Prom & Nont | Playboyy the Series

This show was such a hot mess but it was so racey and fun to watch. So many different plots and storylines were happening but these two were 100% my favorite. I loved their storyline, loved their chemistry, I was just so invested in what was going to happen each week. I wish they had even more focus, but I was okay with what we got. Hope we get to see the two in a different series.

#06. Kohei & Taichi | I Hear the Sunspot

SIGH. THESE TWO. OMG they were just so beautiful. This series was so well done, but I mostly just loved the relationship between the main two. From the start, the storyline was intriguing and I just wanted to keep watching more eps. Cant wait to binge the ENTIRE series at one time in the future sometime. These two were just sweet!

#05. Myungha & Yeowoon | Love for Love's Sake

Super duper adorable drama, I always love Korean series and this was one of the best this season. Even though there were certainly serious plots going on, parts of it felt very light and I really enjoyed all the other characters and plots in the show as well.

#04. Gyu Ho & Yeong | Love in the Big City

Definitely one of the best BL's in the history of Bl's... if we can even call it that. It felt like a movie, and it kind of was. I watched it pretty quickly and too quickly to completely soak it in, but it was just so well done and so beautiful. The ending was a bit bittersweet, but I had hope for these two.

#03. Qian & Yuan | Unknown the Series

THIS SERIES SDFDSFDSDSF. SO good. One of my all time favorite Taiwan series. I remember staying up so late waiting for episodes so I could read what happened next before getting to watch, then eventually paying for a subscription lol. I was so dang invested in them. And their entire plot and story and build up was just SO damn good.

#02. Dohoe & Juyeong | Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo

OMG this series BROKE ME! It was deep and so sad and I got so invested in the storyline and the main pairing. I preferred the young versions and start of the story vs the ending but it was still really interesting and well done. I really adored the chemistry so much between the two and the thing that put this one over the top for me was just how emotional it made me and how much I cared about what was going to happen. One of my all time favorite series and pairs!

#01. Phaya & Tharn | The Sign

IMO this is one of Thailands best Bl series ever, and BillyBabe are just so good together. When this first came out, goodness, I WAS SO INVESTED. I watched so many behind the scenes clips, stayed up all night watching and rewatching episodes, I was just so into it and also into billybabe. I still love them and really look forward to more series from them or maybe even a season 2. Their plot and dynamic was so damn fun to watch play out!

THANK YOU again to all these wonderful humans for making the most amazing gifs that I used in this post! (All the other arts were made by me and my shitty program lol)

Links to the gifs made should be underneath the gifs! :) Sadly I couldn't list them all again below because of the image limit.

[fushitoru]

the season of thorned roses ⸺ a bridgerton!au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

genre/warnings ⸺ enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, eventual smut, suggestive, jealousy, misogyny, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly, all they do is bicker 💀, some historical inaccuracies, mentions of sex work

notes from the author: im aashi, and this is my first series on this app :p for anyone who would like to know, this does end with a happy ending. ty for reading!

masterlist | drabble | fanart

chapter index

01 ⸺ the debutante

you begin to get ready for your presentation for your debut this season, and satoru steels himself to find a wife. you don't get the reception you'd wanted from some, and satoru will soon curse himself for letting his tongue loose (6.3k)

02 ⸺ the aftermath

after an eventful first ball after your debut, you continue the season with thinly veiled vexation towards gojo. but fate is not on your side; you and gojo keep encountering each other, matching fire with fire (7.8k)

03 ⸺ the manor

you and gojo have just uncovered your mothers' matchmaking scheme: a plan that sends you both to his extravagant countryside manor in kent, arriving a week earlier than the rest of the ton. the question remains—can you endure gojo's insufferable nature during this secluded stay? (8.3k)

04 ⸺ the game

satoru has some revelations about you. both you and satoru share some quite...happening days at the manor, including an eventful game of pall mall. (4.9k)

05 ⸺ the fall

gojo comes up with a strange yet tempting arrangement, but the accident that follows it may cause epiphanies for the both of you. (11.8k)

06 ⸺ the house party

you are bedridden, recovering from your wound, when gojo delivers season-changing news. the house party that follows buzzes with tension, and an unexpected arrival that sends ripples through the ton. (7.4k)

07 ⸺ the rebound

after the arrival of your dearest brother, you pursue a new angle to the season, one to prove that you, the diamond, will not be scorned. new opportunities with duke nanami arise and with it jealousy and bitterness fester in the ballroom. (6.8k)

08 ⸺ the lake

both you and gojo discover contradictory feelings lodged deep in your heart, and a confrontation (with an unexpected ally) leads to a rather....wet conclusion. (4.6k)

09 ⸺ the embers

sukuna takes you on an excurion into town at night, where you both meet a stranger that gives you illustrative insight into gojo. on the other hand, satoru has to suffer his best friend's most terrible plan as of date (10k)

10 ⸺ the art gallery

duke nanami suprises you with an inquiry, and the panic caused by it leads to an encounter with a very unexpected person (4.7k)

11 ⸺ the geto manor (soon!)

drabbles/headcanons

01 ⸺ gojo unable to wake up on time after a wild night (suggestive)

02 ⸺ avoiding gojo after getting your period (suggestive)

03 ⸺ gojo walking in on geto at a brothel (nsfw, not canon)

03 ⸺ gojo when you're pregnant

[liinos]

i think i'd like bungee jumping BUT i do think it would make me sick 😭

[hees-mine]

confessions - Lee heeseung

Pairing: Heeseung X fem reader!

Warning: smut, protected/unprotected sex, breeding kink-ish, cursing, jealousy, cream pie, fuck buddies, hee takes condom off mid fuck.

WC: 2k Drabble

-

Fuck buddy👅: You free tonight?

Your fuck buddy heeseung hit you up like he did almost every night with the idea of you and him hooking up.

Except tonight was a little different because….

You: No, I have a date.

You left a quick reply and finished getting ready for your date. Even though heeseung was your fuck buddy, you still went out on dates.

The agreement between you and heeseung allowed for you to keep your options open, all while having access to mind-blowing sex.

It was a win-win situation.

Fuck buddy👅: date?

You: yeah, one of the guys at work asked me out

Fuck buddy👅: and you said yes?

You: yeah??? is that a problem

Fuck buddy👅: no problem, it’s just why are you going out when you have me?

You: for sex, but we’re not together, and recently, I’ve been looking for commitment, not just meaningless sex.

Fuck buddy👅: Fine, enjoy your date then

You left the conversation at that or else you’d be late to your date.

The whole time, you couldn’t really enjoy yourself cause he didn’t make you laugh like heeseung did. He didn’t look at you like you were the only girl in the room like heeseung did while he fucked you in the solitude of his bedroom. He made inappropriate jokes and even wanted to split the bill.

He wasn’t even half as good as heeseung.

Even if you and heeseung weren’t dating, he’d still bring over takeout and maybe even buy a movie off an app setting the mood before he took you to his bedroom to give you orgasm after orgasm, one of them being on his tongue and the rest on his cock.

You sighed to yourself.

All you could think about was heeseung. You wanted something more with him than just sex, but you both made a deal that that’s all it was and no strings attached.

That was fine for the first few months, slowly but surely, you found yourself catching feelings for him.

But you knew it could never work out so you tried going on countless dates just to be disappointed like you were tonight.

Another dud.

This was definitely your last date with him and maybe your last date for a while cause tonight was a disaster.

You wish you had just taken heeseung’s offer.

When you arrived home from that nightmare of a date, you sighed disappointedly, wondering when you’d find a real man.

Well, technically, you already had, but things with you and him didn’t cross the line of fuck buddies.

It’s too bad cause heeseung was perfect. He was funny, nice, and a gentleman. He may not have taken you out, but he definitely ate you out, and he’d always give you the best aftercare, too.

Sadly that was all it’s ever been with him though but you’d take him however you could get him.

You: You still up?

You texted the man you couldn’t keep your mind off of the whole night.

Fuck buddy👅: Yeah, why?

He replied much faster than you would have thought.

You: Come over?

Fuck buddy👅: failed date, huh? Now I’m the rebound 😂

You: yeah, it was a fail, and you’re not a rebound. I’m just exhausted from dates, so come over and show me a good time

Fuck buddy👅: that I can do

Not only did he come over, he showed you a great time.

The moment he stepped in, his lips were on yours, his hands gripping everywhere they could reach, tugging and pulling your clothes off, and stumbling to your bedroom.

You were both naked within a flash. Usually, he’d take his time with you, but not tonight. It’s almost like he had this pent-up need for you, which he probably did; seeing how you had practically stood him up earlier, thinking back on it, you regret that so much.

He laid you down on the bed gently and that was the only thing that he did that was gentle tonight.

After he laid you out on the bed, he caressed your body, one hand lowering to his condom covered length and aligning it with your wet, needy hole. He fucked into you slowly at first, then speeding up gradually. The louder your moans got his warm skin pressed against your own as he pressed your legs to your chest, allowing his cock to plunge deeper and deeper into your pretty tight cunt. “Shouldn’t have dressed up for him. He didn’t deserve it,” he grunts, squeezing your thighs as his dick slides in and out of you, your wet walls wrapping around him deliciously. “I can fuck you better than him. I can treat you better, t-too fuck” he breathed out as his sweaty thighs clapped against your ass.

“Hee,” you moaned lips pursed as your body tensed and your cunt squeezed around him tightly from the pleasure his cock gave to you.

“That’s my name. Scream it louder for me, baby. Let the whole fucking world know only I can make you feel this good, not some fucking loser at work,” he pounds into you, his frustration and jealousy fueling his deep thrusts.

He drops your legs to his sides, and you cling onto his waist, nails digging into his back as you encircle his body with your legs, making sure he doesn’t move from his spot. “Isn’t that right? Just me”

“Yes, only you,” you whimpered, eyes rolling back in your head, body covered in sweat as you felt like you were on the verge of tears from how well he fucked you. He was right no one could ever do you this good Lee heeseung was gifted in every department, and tonight only proved no matter how many dates you went on, they would never compare to your fuck buddy.

“Say it again,” he groans, fingers toying with pulsing erect clit.

“Fuck yes, heeseung just you,” You clench around him, your wet pussy surrendering to the immense pleasure that his thick cock provided.

“That’s right,” he smirks cockily, rubbing your sensitive clit in messy circles till that heat pools in your lower stomach. “Keep squeezing on me baby cum on your fuck buddy's cock. You know you want to”

“Oh fuck” your eyes roll back in your head, mouth hung open, expression completely fucked out. “Yes, hee, love your cock” you mewl, your orgasm growing nearer. “Oh my god, keep fucking this pussy. It’s all yours,” you choke out, too lost in the moment to understand the reckless words that are coming out of your mouth, but even if you were coherent, you knew you wouldn’t regret it.

“Yeah? Give me that pussy, baby; let me fuck it raw; let me claim this pussy” You nod frantically and with your consent. He pulls out just long enough to yank off the disruptive condom he was wearing and slip back inside you raw.

You both moan obscenely at the feeling of skin on skin, relishing the raw feeling of one another.

After you relinquished yourself to him, he was gonna leave his mark on you and fill you with his cum, claiming you for his own. “This is my pussy. You’re all fucking mine,” he grunts, going faster, his cock twitching inside your warm juicy walls, the lewd squelching every time he fucked deeper into you, turning you both on to the max. “Hear that?” He thrusts slower so you can both hear how creamy and wet your pussy is. “That’s my wet pussy from now on.”

“Y-yours all yours,” you nod rapidly, looking cock drunk as you take every inch until he’s balls deep within you.

“Gonna fill you up, put a baby in you. That way, everyone will know you’re mind, and I fuck you good” he speeds up again, the intensity of it all making him lose all self. Control. Your tight, wet heat wrapped snuggly around him was gonna make him cum.

“Yes, fuck cum i-inside me” his eyes roll back in his head, sweat dripping from his body onto yours as he gives you his all.

“Fuck baby, gonna make you a mommy,” he moans at the thought of you full and stuffed, his strength wavering as he throbs inside you. “Cum with m-me” he squeezes his eyes shut in pleasure. A few more thrusts and he’s cumming in you as he rubs your clit, setting you off immediately after, your cunt clenching tightly, milking his full heavy balls and pulling his cum deep inside your wet pussy.

“Yes, hee,” you whine as he continues to cum within your tensing walls, giving you a few more tired rolls of his hips, ensuring to fuck his cum in the depths of your pussy so you have no choice but to take his seed and have a baby by him.

He collapsed on top of you, gasping for air. “No more dates with fucking losers,” he mumbles into your neck as you desperately cling onto him to ground yourself, panting uncontrollably from the mind-blowing orgasm. “Gonna show you what it’s like to be treated like a fucking queen” he kisses your neck as you slowly stroke his back.

He never intended his confession to be this way, so rushed and messy, fueled by jealousy and anger, but if this is what it took for you to see he wanted something more than a fuck buddy relationship with you, he’d gladly do it again and again.

He’s always liked you from the start, but once you both agreed to no strings attached, he knew where he stood with you, so he kept his feelings to himself, but after tonight, he was so angry that you were seeing someone else over him he knew you occasionally went on dates and nothing ever came of it, but he was tired of hearing about these fucking losers getting a chance with you and not him and he couldn’t keep his feelings for you a secret anymore and he’s glad he finally let them out, he just hopes you feel the same way.

Are you confessing to me?” You tease him.

“If that’s what you call it,” he tried to play it off as if his face wasn’t heating up in the crook of your neck.

“Hee, you could have just asked instead of getting jealous.”

“And I was, but after hearing you were going on a date, I got so pissed. I didn’t plan on this being my confession, but…” he paused briefly. “I let my emotions get the best of me.” He hugged his arms around you, squeezing gently.

Your heart feels full from his confession, and you hum in understanding, your fingers tickling up his back until you reach his damp hair, playing with the soft, silky strands.

Your silence leaves him feeling anxious, awaiting a response. Meanwhile, you’re content in your own world, basking in the reality that he actually liked you back you hadn’t even noticed you didn't confess too.

“So…..” he pulls away from you to look at your face. “You want to go on a date with me?”

You cup his cheek with your left hand, stroking his face, and that’s when all his nerves fade away. You both share a loving smile, and he melts into your touch, the silent confirmation that you feel the same way. “Yes, hee I’d love that.”

And actually, you’re glad you went on that shitty date because, after all, your ex fuck buddy had some confessions to make.

-

Link to my other works that aren’t on tumblr

[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; four

wc ; 2114 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect, panic attacks

prologue, one, two, three, four, five, tbc..

The rain outside casted a shadow of gloom over the morose city, the rhythmic pat-pat-pat on the windows creating an uncomfortable backdrop to your inner thoughts. Your head was resting in your hands, fingers scrunching at the edge of your scalp, tangling your hair with such force it felt like your mind was being split in two.

The pain was nothing compared to the pounding of your heart, ricocheting so loud that you felt it in your shoulders, in your fingertips – in each cell of your body.

What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? What the fuck? Those three words echoed in your mind like a beat rebounding off a drum, what is going on? This is–..

When you miraculously turned back in time, you naively believed it would be easy – you’d silently leave without fuss, everything would progress as it should and you’d live life away from the looming Manor they called home. 

So why, why does it feel like every time you try to leave, someone’s there holding their hand on your neck. Why? Why can’t you just leave? It was so easy before, you could leave the Manor, disappear for days on end and nobody would notice, now it feels like someone is always hovering around.

Every time you leave your room, every time you try – they’re there! Why? What caused this sudden shift? You didn’t do anything drastic. So why? What changed? You’d spent years of your pathetic life scrambling for any sort of attention. For them. What secret trick have you pulled to put yourself in their spotlight? And why now?!

“Fuck.” You grumble, crumpling into yourself pitifully. There is absolutely no light at the end of this stupid tunnel. One of those stupid circus clowns is always there to stand before the small glimmers of hopes that shine through, much like the sun through a window. They curtain the light, under the pretense of protecting you from the sun’s burns, but how can you live without the sun’s warmth?

The rain outside grew more intense as you spiral, a testimony to the raging shit-show inside you. There is– one option. An option you loathe to think about. Bothering her would be.. It’s not something you’d like. You’d promised yourself – all that time ago, that you would never look her in the eyes, that you’d never speak a word to her. For her sake, not your own.

It’d be selfish, you really, really shouldn’t. But still, as a precaution, you open up your night stand, reaching to the very, very bottom to pick out a letter. A letter with an address and a phone number. Just in case.

The rain doesn’t seem to be stopping, which is a shame – you’ve always hated the rain.

“What is wrong with you?” A voice calls out, and you just narrowly avoid screaming. You tilt your head with much effort, your eyes zeroing in on Damian. Of course, it’s like a fucking roster. You’re not even safe in your own room.

“I don’t know what you mean.” You respond curtly, resting your head in your hands once more. You can’t stand looking at him. You can’t stand him. You can’t stand his stupid expression, always so prideful. Always so above you. You hate him.

“Why are you acting like this? You’re a Wayne, stop being so… pathetic.” You let out a sharp laugh at his words. Again, a few years ago, those words would’ve filled you with immense joy – enough to power yourself through the loneliness that plagued your whole being. But you’re not that pathetic waste of space, ghosting through the Manor. You’re just [Name],

“I don’t know what you mean.” You repeat, not picking up your head as you sigh. The rain is heavy, you really hate rain. “I’ve always been pathetic, right?”

You can’t see Damian, but you feel the air in the room shift. It’s strange, everything feels surreal. You almost have half a nerve to–

“Why are you trying to leave?”

His voice sounds weird, he sounds concerned. That’s impossible, you’re speaking to Damian. The boy who’s refused to acknowledge you as his sibling, the one who made it very clear what he thought of you. You raise your head once more to meet his eyes. 

He looks young. Younger than you’ve ever seen him look. 

“Why does it matter to you, this is what you’ve always wanted right?” Your hands begin to tremble, why are you trembling? You’re not scared. You’re– You’re angry. The fearful knot in your stomach frays, anger burning the rope until it tightens around your organs like a springtrap. “You’ve made it very clear what you think of me, don’t try to take the high road now.” “[Name]--”

“I’ve spent my whole life, chasing like a fucking stray for something – anything. Now you wanna act concerned? I’m fucking sick of this. I’m sick of you– I’m sick of everything!” Words were spilling out before you could catch them, the raindrops on the window fueling your anger. The patting making your head fucking pound, you wanted to rip your filthy mind out – everything was loud, too loud.

“Calm down, you’re acting–” 

“Out of everyone in this house, I hate you the most.”

“Huh?” Damian’s voice was soft, quiet – barely audible over the relentless pounding of the rain.

“However much you might hate me, I hate you a hundred, no, a thousand times more.” 

You pushed past him, your anger exploding inside your very core. Your blood was rushing through your veins, squeezing until it threatened to blow. If you had half the mind to look back, you’d see the expression on his face.

The walls in the Manor had never felt so looming, so large. It felt like each painting was looking at you, mocking you. The eyes of the soulless characters locked on your form as you marched down the halls.

You had no destination, no goal, but you needed to get out. Each wall was closing in, the roof threatening to collapse – to swallow you whole, to crush you under it’s unforgiving weight. Would that be better? Would you be happier under the sweet mercy of death?

Well, you’re not willing to find out. You’re not that gone, yet.

You could barely register anything as you stormed out the Manor, you heard nothing but the ringing in your ears as you walked. 

The moment the cold rain hit your skin, you ran. Your legs moving before your brain could process it. The downpour soaked you. Your hair and clothes sticking to your body. You weren’t wearing a coat, you had some shitty shoes that you had on from earlier, your whole body felt like it was aflame.

And then you stopped. Your frustration wore off leaving only the ache in your body behind. Your lungs were being squeezed against your ribs, air clawing against the sensitive flesh leaving you breathless. Your legs were shaking, your bones too weak to hold you as you slump against a tree.

Your body hit the cold, wet ground below you. Your head falls on your knees as you cradle yourself. Curse Bruce for living in some fancy ass Manor, away from the rest of Gotham like some fancy jackass. Curse him for being a billionaire. From behind the tree you had slumped yourself on, you could hear some lingering paparazzi – eager for some sort of scoop.

It’d be funny if you jumped out and gave them a real scoop. But you’re too caught up in your own shit for any scandals.

“I really hate the rain.” You mumble, a warm raindrop falling from your eyes. Strange, isn’t rain supposed to be wet? Whatever. 

You felt pathetic. So, truly pathetic. You’d ran away like some brat having a tantrum. Whatever, it’s not like anyone would notice. Nobody ever noticed, that was how life was, how it’d always be. You were destined to be sidelined forever, and you’d finally grown fine with that. So why? 

Your ass was muddy, you were wet, cold, sad – this scenario felt oddly reminiscent, reminiscent of a time before all the neglect, before loneliness was your only companion.

“Your name is [Name]?” A deep voice asked, his tone kind, patient as he looked at you.

Rain stuck to your small form as you looked up at him, your supposed father. The man you’d seen on TV everyday, he was looking at you – his eyes full of kindness that felt unfamiliar. But–

“Where is my mom?” Your voice was hoarse, quiet – afraid. The blooming pain in your head seemed to dull under the rain’s touch, blood seeping down your forehead, dripping down your nose – mingling with the heavy precipitation. The lights from the blaring sirens were shadowed by the man before you, the man who was looking down at you with something akin to pity. 

The teddy bear in your hands was unsalvageable. Between the missing eye, limbs, and now the rain that had drenched it. It was a hard thrust away from falling apart, but it rested in your palms nonetheless. Your fingers curling into the flat, synthetic fur as though it were your only tether to reality.

He slowly kneeled down before you, reaching eye-to-eye before extending his hand. “My name is Bruce, I’ll take care of you and your mother, I promise.” He smiled, he looked so much more human now, he was no longer an untouchable figure, no longer would you have to touch the warm screen of your TV, quietly pleading for him to save you. He was looking at you now, and he’d never look away.

You took his hand.

“Fuck this.” You huff, standing up with way too much effort, your joints still aching because of your little escapade. You weren’t going to sit around and wait for him to hold your hand again, you weren’t going to have him sign anything or give you anything – why should you rely on him? He’s given you nothing. You owe him nothing.

Your wet hand instinctively goes to your pocket, taking out the card with the address. The heavy downpour immediately enveloped the laminated card. Your throat felt heavy immediately as you reread the words on it, soaking in each letter. Swallowing back your nausea, you begin running again – this time, with a purpose.

It was rare for Bruce to lose his composure, but as he stared into your empty room – he felt his control fraying. 

“You’re sure they’re not hiding somewhere else?” He managed to keep his voice calm, despite the pounding of his heart. His eyes scanned your room. So small, he really needs to upgrade it.

“No, Master Bruce, they.. can’t be found anywhere else.” Alfred said, his expression uncharacteristically tense as he stared at the black curls at the back of Bruce’s head. 

Bruce was beginning to feel a sense of dread come upon him.

When Damian came into his study, looking strangely panicked – that was strike one, the moment your name left the young boy’s mouth, Bruce was up and practically sprinting to your room. Strike two.

And strike three was the lack of you in your space. The lack of you in the Manor. He had everyone look around, check every nook and cranny, but you were nowhere to be found. He had told you not to go out without telling him. 

But it’s fine, he is the world’s greatest detective. No need to panic.

Taking a tentative step forward, Bruce took a moment to absorb your space, your personality. The posters on the walls, the trinkets littering your shelves, the small imperfections that discerned you.

And then his eyes fell upon it, your teddy bear. “I thought they threw this out.” Bruce mumbled, his eyes flashing to that rainy day when he had met your cold eyes, eyes too haunted to belong to a child. How could he let that child leave when he had promised to take care of you? You and your mother.

Alarm bells rang in his mind, distantly, he could hear Tim and Cass theorise your where-a-bouts. But–

“Alfred, do you remember where we sent her?” Bruce asked slowly, picking up the teddy bear gently – taking in the ruined toy, a testament to the child you were. To the child you are, his thumb running over the messy stitch marks, no doubt done by you. You had the money of Bruce Wayne at your disposal yet you insisted on keeping this trash? The reminder of your impoverished days? He couldn’t understand it, but then again, he’d never be able to understand you.

Not unless he had an actual conversation, as father and child.

“..Yes, I shall send you the details.” Alfred asked after a pause, his eyes strangely distant as he looked at the window, at the rain droplets racing down. “Please, Master Bruce, be swift.”

sorry for neglecting yall i was tryna make the book immersive ;3

dookie chapter because i am simultaniously studying for my health and social exam

tags; (asked to be added thru dms)

@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things @iimichie @meepmoopbadabeepboop @buckturd @eloriis @xoxossam @verypersonaldazzel @froggy-voidd @shycreatorreview @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @devotedlyshamelessdetective @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi

@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things @iimichie @buckturd @eloriis @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi

ill get around to adding everyone to the taglist .

[caffeinewitchcraft]

WIBTA for going to my high school reunion even though the two witches I stripped of magic are going?

(Read for free on Patreon (X))

I (28 witch) was in a coven during high school. Not really even a coven. We weren’t recognized and there wasn’t a clear division of responsibilities. We did have a high priestess but she hadn’t Declared or been Initiated or whatever she believed. Looking back, her learning was all over the place (and a little problematic, honestly. I remember her calling a poppet a Voodoo doll before being called out by another member). Let’s call her Sarah.

Sarah was a year older than the rest of us (still the same grade though) and her mom was a witch so that made her the high priestess. She was the one who would organize all of our rituals and held the power of veto over any proposed spells. While you think that’d mean she’d provide the ingredients, she never did. She did tell us what to buy and, let me tell you, some of those things were expensive for a high schooler. We met in the park behind her house, and she demanded that at least one of us be in every one of her classes. If we weren’t, we’d be “cycled” out of the coven until our parents convinced the school to transfer us in.

Any alt kid knows what I’m talking about because they had a Sarah in their life. If she was angry, we had to be angry (and a little afraid of her). If she was sad, we were expected to ask why. If she was happy, we had to be even more happy. You get the picture.

The problem came when Sarah added Jess (fake name) to the Coven during the start of our junior year. It was the first time Sarah allowed someone else from a witch family to join. Jess was a transfer student from England. She told us all that that made her magic deeper and more powerful because she was a “daughter of the witches you could not burn.” When I pointed out that that statement is historically inaccurate, Jess called me a “pilgrim.” She tried to convince Sarah to blind me (take away my decision-making power in the coven), but I was the only one with reliable access to dried herbs (my mom’s a botanist and didn’t count her stores like Sarah’s mom did), so Sarah said no.

Jess’ dislike of me got worse when I actually did dress like a pilgrim for Halloween that year. And, if I’m honest, I did take it a little far. I was a hot-headed kid. I followed her around the entire day and had kids sign one of two petitions – “Burn” or “Not Burn.” When the Burn Petition won, I could tell I went too far (there were a LOT of signatures).  I tried to make it a joke and told her that now she really was a witch we couldn’t burn.

Jess and I got in our first physical fight. Sarah eventually broke it up, but not before Jess ripped out a good chunk of my hair, and I broke the tiger’s eye bracelet she wore.

 I later heard from another coven member that Jess tried to lay a curse on me that night. Unfortunately for her, I was pretty interested in defensive work and had a fresh witch’s jar buried under my window. Her curse got caught in it and rebounded. Apparently, that’s how Jess got pink eye, not from her younger sister.

We fought like cats and dogs. Any time Jess would talk about England, I’d make fun of her accent. When I brought up what spell I’d like to do, Jess would call me a juvenile pilgrim. Eventually, Jess got smart. She’d text me insults rather than say them to my face so that she’d have a chance to tattle to Sarah before I got the chance to hit back.

Sarah pulled me aside at least three times to “address” the fights. She basically said that I needed to respect Jess more because she came from a witch family, like her. She told me I could learn a lot from Jess if I stopped acting like a human. When I pointed out that we are humans, just humans who have elected to use magic, she got really mad.

And when Sarah got mad, she could make life really difficult.

My spell for luck on midterms got passed over for Jess’ jinx on our English teacher. The jinx worked and Ms. Edel tripped, but guess who still came to class with a broken leg? MS. EDEL. Guess who failed their midterm?

ALL SEVEN OF US.

Damn, I can’t believe I’m still upset by this petty high school drama. Therapy did not work.

So safe to say that Jess and I never became friends. I love magic now and loved it then, but she took it so seriously. I’ve always believed magic should be fun. All the spells she brought to the coven required a spirit element—blood, hair, sacrifice. One of the members was a strict green witch and had to drop out because of it. We missed two full moons until Sarah approved Eileen to rejoin after she woke up from her coma.

(And before anyone freaks out about the coma – we all ended up in comas here and there. We were a bunch of uneducated and untrained baby witches who all had different belief systems. The fact that there wasn’t anything worse than a coma is a miracle. She wasn’t traumatized by it any more than I was by mine.)

Jess and I mostly avoided each other for the rest of the year. We always voted against the other’s spell and I’m fairly certain she tried to trip jinx me in the hall as often as I tried to trip jinx her. Sarah never tried to diffuse the tension between us. She confided in Eileen that she was grateful we kept each other in check.

Things could have continued on that way until we all moved away for college (or repeated the year after failing all those midterms) if it weren’t for the vernal equinox. Or, as we inaccurately called it, the Spring Solstice.

The way it worked was that we all got to propose a ritual during equinoxes. They’re powerful magical events on their own and when you bring intent to the party? They were always our biggest, most successful workings.

Sarah always chose what we did on those days. She pretended like we got to vote, but we all knew she would never choose one of our rituals. My freshman year, she made us all do one for beauty. Because it was a “make real what is in the eye of the beholder” type, some of our transformations were a little…traumatizing. I’m only telling you this so you understand the power an equinox has, okay? I do not think this way anymore. Other members were just as extreme. Eileen went from a Wendy from Wendy’s to a Jessica Rabbit. And I…

Well.

I grew rabbit ears and teeth. That doesn’t make me a furry! Who Framed Roger Rabbit? was super influential on BOTH Eileen and me. I was a kid and didn’t understand my own concept of beauty. It took almost three months before I got the ears to go away entirely.

Suffice it to say, we were all excited and nervous for what ritual Sarah would pick, which is why it was a blow to find out that she had picked a ritual - Jess’ ritual.

A ritual for power.

I didn’t want to do it from day one, okay? My belief is that whatever magic comes to you naturally is what’s okay to take. I think if you rip magic up from the earth or the abyss, it’ll change you. Maybe even corrupt you or change your personality.

But I was a kid and didn’t know how to explain that. Jess and Sarah were both from witch families and they seemed to think it was okay. Even though I didn’t like Jess, I did see her as a more “authentic” witch because of that. I know better now, but as a kid seeing all of her grimoires, I gave her false authority.

Jess explained the ritual to us over the next month. She talked about how we were going to be “tested.” The ritual would pull our spiritual selves from our bodies, and depending on how long we chanted, we’d return to them with more or less magic than when we started. She said that everyone in her family did it when they turned 18.

It wasn’t until three days before the equinox that she told us what would happen if one of us were to be judged unworthy.

“Mostly nothing,” she said. I remember her exact words, how her black hair spun as she soared through the air on the swings. We stood in a half circle before her and Sarah as they swung higher and higher. An audience to their aerial court. She said, “Sometimes people lose some of their magic. When the ritual decides they don’t deserve it.”

Eileen asked, “When the ritual decides? It’s sentient?”

“There’s an overseer we’ll call on,” Sarah said. She’d been the only one allowed to read Jess’ grimoire. Her lip curled and she leaned forward so she could look down over Eileen like an avenging angel as she swung overhead. “An impartial entity.”

“I am not a deity witch,” I said. I had long ago committed that I would never call on a higher being in any ritual. Most of our spells had to be modified for me so that I could swear to the cardinal directions rather than to the Morrigan or Hecate. “You know that.”

“You’re not swearing to anyone,” Sarah said and rolled her eyes.

“Which means no one is swearing to us,” Eileen muttered under her breath. But I could tell she had given up by the slump of her shoulders.

“It’s only the unworthy who lose their magic,” Jess reassured. Her eyes flashed at me. “Scared you’re unworthy?”

Yes. I was scared. I know better now than to think lineage has any place in witchcraft. It’s about the magic, always just the magic. But months of hearing their rhetoric had worn at my self-esteem. It really felt like if I didn’t do the ritual, I was as good as admitting I wasn’t a witch. If I did do the ritual…

Well. Obviously, I did the ritual.

I was a hot-headed teen, okay? I felt challenged. I decided that I would wear extra protections. Tiger’s eye and quartz charged with intention. I picked out a silver locket my mother gave me, filled with belladonna. She told me it symbolized beauty and choice.

Now, here’s where I may be the asshole.

I can’t give you a play-by-play of the ritual. It was ten years ago, and calling on that much magic has a funny way of warping memory. But what I do remember is this:

We gathered in the park before sunrise. Seven of us in new colors – spring green, white, soft yellow and pink. Jess made us get rid of anything with a working on it – crystals, cards, and ladders. She collected them all in a linen bag and threw them into the woods. I couldn’t get away with my tiger’s eye or quartz, but she missed the pendant my mother gave me. It was a warm comfort against my chest as we began.

We lit the fire together, each of us frantically thumbing our lighter to make sure the sparks caught at the same time.

Jess brought the chalice. We all cut our palms and let seven drops fall into it. (No, we didn’t use a clean blade. My cut got infected as hell and it itches like a witch. I know better now!) She bade us drink, and we did.

“Now the magic will see us as equal,” Sarah said while Jess prepared the next step. She licked her lips as if savoring the blood. “It will only be our wills determining the outcome.”

Jess doused us with oil and herbs. It smelled sharp and uneasy. I had provided the herbs and knew all of them were either fresh or dried to perfection. But it was rancid. There was rot in the air, but I couldn’t place it then. I wrinkled my nose and took up the chanting with the others to distract myself from the smell.

If you’ve ever chanted before, you know the stages. First, you’re just talking. You say the words and they mean something, but you don’t feel them. Then your mouth gets tired. You start messing up the timing of the words. You stutter. You stumble. The words lose meaning. Most people stop there. They fall silent and sink into a shallow meditation with heads full of fog.

You’re only a witch if you can reach the next step. You keep saying the words. They become comfortable. You wear the words like clothes and feel your cadence curl through you like a companion. Your body goes on autopilot and your mind relaxes. The chant turns smooth as silk. Depending on the chant, you lose yourself to the sweetness of your coven singing. Sometimes, you sink into the earth with them. Other times, you ride the flow of the magic like waves.

This time, the words pulled us away from our bodies. Jess slowly introduced new words to our chant. Words of summoning.

We called upon the Overseer.

Pressure fell around me like a vice. I couldn’t breathe even as the ritual fell from my lips without breaking. Magic had, at that point, always given me control. This? This was a complete loss of it.

I felt myself compressing. Smaller and smaller in the face of the being that was rising in the middle of the flames. It was not an observer. The moment I “saw” it, its endless form writhing in the space between the smoke, I knew that. It was a judge and jury.

It was a spider.

We chanted. It grew. It pulled us from our bodies like spiderweb and spooled our essences onto its forelimbs. It was not what Jess described and, simultaneously, it was. We were being tested. Our psyches were being tested.

So long as we chanted, the being would be contained. However, the longer it was contained, the more of us it could take. If we let it go, what would it do? Would it return any part of our magic to us? Any part of who we were?

Or would it eat?

This wasn’t a test of magic. It was a test of faith. Faith in each other and faith in the ritual.

For those practitioners out there, you can see the problem. I didn’t enter the ritual with faith. My intent was flawed from the beginning. We’d had spells fail because of lack of belief. I had never been the person who didn’t believe.

Until then

My words wavered. The Overseer turned its eyes to me. I could see my magic like thread before it, shimmering against the backdrop of its maw.

Then another tremor. Eileen dropped a word. The Overseer split and looked at both of us. Someone else faltered. One of the coven – I couldn’t see them – fell and went silent.

The sky yawned overhead, empty and cold. The embers from the fire spun up into it and were lost. The Overseer rippled and I felt our coven shrink in the face of it.

I gasped around the chant and looked across the fire. The light licked Jess’ gleeful face. Her eyes hungered for my failure. I could see it. Through the connection of the Overseer, I could feel it.

Jess and Sarah changed the chant. To this day, I don’t remember if they taught it to the rest of us. There are so many parts of the ritual that I’ve left out or forgotten. But I remember them chanting different words. The circle grew discordant.

“I offer my magic so I may be unspun and woven anew,” they said. The words have imprinted themselves like bitters under my tongue. “I offer my magic so I may—”

Some of the other members tried to pick up the new chant. Their voices grew weaker and the Overseer’s limbs began to extend out towards each one of us.

I wouldn’t offer my magic to that thing. I wouldn’t be unspun.  Eileen was stuttering. I saw her fall to her knees. I was close behind.

I threw my necklace into the flames.

Belladonna. Beautiful and deadly. It has meant choice to many women and many of them have been from my own family. It's extreme and it’s final. An end that doesn’t always make room for a new beginning.

Pretty words that cover up what I meant when I threw it into the Overseer.

My intent was Death.

Entities never die. I’m sure the Overseer didn’t. It howled. The wind kicked up and brought the flames into a spiral ten feet tall. Its forelimbs shattered, and I reeled myself back together greedily.

Not all of us were safe from the Overseer’s desperate struggle against my death curse.

Sarah and Jess were alone in the third phase of the ritual. They had changed the chant. They had offered their magic and asked the entity to do with it what it will. They believed.

And because they believed, the Overseer took their magic with it.

I think it was the first coma Jess ever fell into. Her family certainly acted like it. They whisked her back to the East Coast before the end of the year. I heard from Eileen that she woke up shortly after I left for college.

Magicless.

Sarah too.

I fully own that I was responsible for the ritual failing. I panicked. I’ve gone through every excuse over the years. I didn’t know what the ritual really was. I was just a kid. I took magic too lightly. It was their fault for not letting us read the grimoire for ourselves. But, at the end of the day, the real reason the ritual failed was because I panicked and I let that panic break my belief.

I moved on to college and it felt like running away. I’ve never returned to my hometown. I’m happy with the life I’ve built. My magic summer camp gives me time to travel during the winter months, and I feel like I’m making a real difference in young witches’ lives.

Nowadays I teach young witches to never do a working without full intent. If they have doubts, they don’t do it. It’s a lesson I learned the hard way ten years ago. I tell them it can cost them more than their magic. It can cost them their lives.

Eileen is still back home and she says Sarah rarely comes out of her house. Sometimes she sees our former high priestess wandering the school grounds on nights of the full moon. I hear from other members of the coven that Jess’ family put out a bounty on me a few years ago. However, I never saw an assassin so I think that was just a rumor.

So, knowing that they’re still not over it, would I be the asshole for attending my high school reunion next month? I’ve been craving reconnection with my roots, but I’d be subjecting Sarah and Jess (though Jess marked Maybe on the RSVP) to my presence.

I know they must hold a grudge. If they were still witches, that would be a problem. I don’t think I’d be able to defend myself from one of their workings since I blame myself for what happened. But since they’re not, it’s not really a danger. That’s pretty asshole-ish, right? Ignoring their feelings because they don’t have the magic to back it up?

So WIBTA for attending my high school reunion even though the two girls I stripped of magic will be attending?

-----

Thanks for reading! It looks like I'll have quite a few updates for the anthology! I am still obsessed with this format and can't wait to share some of the updates over the next few weeks.

If you'd like to support me before the anthology, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)! I post new stories every week and many of my patrons saw the above story a week early.

The current AITA story takes place in the same universe as our former Cryptid (X). About a poor, poor boy who is just proud to be a regional Nightmare. Why is everyone so mad at him?

See y'all next week!

[losers-clvb]

rebound ex-boyfriend!sam winchester x female!reader

content: toxic!sam, language, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, clitoral stimulation, manipulative sam, mentions of cheating, phone call during sex, some light dirty talk, non-consensual voyeurism (i think it classifies anyway), weirdly some fluff (maybe?)

word count: 3.4k

note: thank you to my lovely jen (@xoswiftieprincess )for indirectly inspiring me to write this fic. also, this is unedited because i wanted to get it out before i went to work, lol.

m.list

“Fuck Sam Winchester!”

Your best friend, Mason, had been cursing the man’s name for over two hours now. She was finding way too much joy in you finally breaking up with him, but that’s just what her friendship was like. She’s always supported you, even when you made the stupid choice to stay with Sam after the fourth time he’d come home to you with a lipstick stain on his neck.

But, seems fifth time was the charm, because you had forced him out of your life. Though, that could have been more about the fact that this time he’d left his phone open to show a text thread between him and the lady who delivered the mail. The fucking postal carrier. He’d chosen her over you.

That was all in the past now, or, it was supposed to be, but now the entire bar was cheersing to Sam’s downfall.

“Fuck Sam Winchester!” They all echoed out Mason’s words. Even the elderly veteran that lurked in the corner raised his beer to the sentiment.

You rolled your eyes and tried to swallow down the hurt of losing Sam, using your very strong cocktail as a chaser. You were the image of pure badass feminism. Who needed a man if he was gonna treat you like trash?

The truth of it was much more embarrassing. You missed Sam.

He could be sweet, when he wanted to. Bring you home flowers, never your favorites, but they were still flowers. He would wrap his arms around you while you made dinner, lips working on kissing your neck while you hummed. The thing you missed the most?

His ability to make you come over and over.

It was truly astounding the amount of times he’d make you come in a singular night. It was the only time he wasn’t a complete selfish asshole. He’d eat you out until the sun rose, ignoring your babbling about how you couldn’t handle another. You knew the safe word, you just never used it.

Oh my God, and his cock? It was impressively--

“Can you stop thinking about him for once?” Mason huffed out, sipping from her own drink. She could read your mind like no other, and it most times lead you to trouble.

“I’m not thinking about him.” You were lying straight through your teeth. You knew it, and she definitely knew it, if the glare she cut at you meant anything.

“You’re a horrible liar.”

You cringed at her words. Not because of what she meant behind them, but because Sam had told you the same thing, word for word, when you screamed at him how much you hated him.

They were both right. You were lying.

“I can’t just stop loving him.” You whispered. Mason still caught it over the hum of the bar around you.

“You need a rebound! Best way to get over someone is to get under someone else, right?” Mason was already scanning the bar for her perfect victim.

“No, Mase, I can’t-,” you started to protest, but she cut you off.

“Him!” Mason jabbed a finger in the direction of a man. He looked around your age and he wasn’t exactly unattractive. The problem lay in the simple fact that he was nothing like Sam.

His jaw was set in a different way. His hair buzzed down to his scalp. He was too… muscular, like a bodybuilder rather than the lean, toned build of your Sam. And he was short. Only an inch or two taller than yourself. You liked it when your men towered over you. Or, maybe you just liked it when Sam towered over you.

It wasn’t as if you were now a born-again virgin. You would work your way up to hookups, you assumed. But right now you didn’t know if there was anyone who could make you feel as good as Sam had, and you didn’t want to be disappointed.

“He’s perfect for you!” Mason insisted, wrapping her fingers around your wrist to drag you over to him.

“He’s nothing like Sam…,” you almost whimpered, your mind always going back to the man who constantly broke your heart.

“Exactly.” Mason smiled wickedly, stomping up to Not-Sam and his group of friends.

After some very convincing arguments with Mason, mixed with the overwhelming fear that you would never get over Sam, you agreed to take Not-Sam home with you.

That’s where you found yourself now, pressed against the wall, Not-Sam’s hand inching under your skirt.

You were trying to enjoy this, you really were, but he was making it difficult.

Not-Sam was a very bad kisser, and his hand? His hand was somehow cold and sweaty at the same time. Oh, and turns out he was part of the male population that couldn’t find the clit, because he was now rubbing just north of it with far too much confidence.

“That feel good?” He asked in what you could only classify as the worst sexy voice you’ve ever heard.

“Umm…,” you didn’t know how to answer. “Yeah, that’s sooo good” in your best attempt at non-sarcasm? Or maybe, “No, it really doesn’t” as a way to finally stand up for yourself?

Thankfully, you didn’t have to make a choice, because there was a knock on your door a second later. You all but pushed Not-Sam off of you, scrambling to answer the door. Maybe it was Mason coming to her senses and saving you from this. Or maybe your neighbor Verna who sometimes participated in late night baking. Or--

You opened the door to reveal none other than Sam. He looked the same as he had three days ago when you pushed him out of this very door. Well, same other than the quickly bruising right eye.

“Oh.” You breathed, not knowing what else to say. You felt a flux of emotion. Hate, regret, love, lust, heartbreak. Most of all, you felt sorry for him.

You felt sorry for your shitty ex because he has a black eye? You could hear Mason’s voice in your head already, scolding you.

It didn’t stop the pull of your heart when he offered you a crooked grin.

“Angelcakes, who is it?” Not-Sam asked, peering over your shoulder. You winced at the pet name. He insisted on calling you that despite your physical aversion to the name.

Sam furrowed his brow, flicking his eyes from you to Not-Sam a few times before they finally landed back onto you. He didn’t look jealous. He didn’t need to be, he knew nobody compared to him.

“Can I come in?” Sam leaned against the doorframe in the way that always had you swooning. His hair fell perfectly into his eyes. He could see the moment he hooked you back in, a smirk pulling on his face at the sight.

“Actually-,” Not-Sam began.

“Yes.” You answered at the same time, stopping Not-Sam in his tracks. You would have seen the scowl on his face if you weren’t so enamoured with your ex-boyfriend in front of you.

“What?” Not-Sam spat, crossing his arms.

Sam dragged his gaze from you to Not-Sam, raising his eyebrows.

“Guess you’d better get going.” Sam spoke with the same inflection you would use with a child, soft and syrupy like medicine. And just like a child to medicine, it made Not-Sam sneer with disgust.

“We were in the middle of something, Gigantor.” Not-Sam tried, and failed, to pull you out of the trance Sam had put you in by nudging your side.

“It’s okay. You can go.” Your words flowed out embarrassingly quick, and you saw a twinkle of something in Sam’s eye.

Not-Sam scoffed, pushing past you and Sam with a mumble about how you were a bitch he didn’t need. You paid no mind to it, not when Sam was gathering your hand in his own.

His skin was warm, a warmth you had missed after the whole of the three days away from him. He brought the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it like he was the prince in those fairytales you loved so much.

“I missed you.” He mumbled against your hand. You didn’t know if it was true or not, but you wanted to believe it was, and that was all that mattered in the moment.

Your head was still a little fuzzy from the drinks Mason had shoved at you. Yeah, that would be your excuse for anything that was to happen. Drunk, not stupidly in love with a sadist.

“Sammy…,” you sighed, jutting your lip out in a frown. You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to cry.

“Baby…,” Sam sighed back, stepping into your apartment. It smelled like home, cinnamon and sugar. That must have been why he couldn’t get you off his mind, even after sleeping with Stephanie from the bakery down the street.

“You shouldn’t be here.” You turned away, suddenly feeling nervous in his presence. He was gonna hurt you again, you knew it, but it didn’t stop the wanting to wrap your arms around his neck.

“Maybe.” He agreed, softly pushing the door closed and turning the lock until that click that told him no one would be getting in to interrupt what he wanted to happen. “But you’re my baby, and I needed help.”

You turned to face him again, eyes stopping on his injury. You could see the few spots in his eye where the blood vessels had burst. Whoever hit him, hit him hard.

You reached up to cup his face with your hand, Sam leaned down to meet you halfway. You brushed a thumb carefully over the bruising.

“What happened?” You met his eyes again.

“That’s not important.” You didn’t need to know that Stephanie had a husband, one who had been trained to throw a punch during his time in the military. “Can you kiss it better? Like you always do?”

Like you always do. He knew you too well. You would give in, he wouldn’t even have to beg for it.

“You hurt me.” You whimpered, eyes dropping.

“I know. I’m sorry, baby.” Sam was actually half-sincere with his apology. He was sorry that he hurt you, but it was just so easy when you always let him come back.

You swallowed and huffed, still looking down. Then he said those magic words.

“I love you, it’ll never happen again.” You’d heard them far too often, and believed them more times than that. They never ceased to melt away any residual anger you felt toward Sam.

You looked up, a small smile gracing your face.

“I love you too.” You answered.

“I know you do.” Sam nodded, tilting his head down just the slightest bit in order to brush his lips against yours.

You leaned into him with a sigh, muscle memory taking over while you kissed him. It was soft and passionate at first, but quickly spiraled into something more.

Sam was hungry, and you were the only thing that could satisfy him. He knew it. No matter how many girls he tried to replace you with, he could never find one like you. None of them loved him so wholly and eternally like you did.

You wrapped your legs around his waist when he picked you up. You clung to him like a koala on a tree, chest flush with his own.

Sam carried you to your room, bending down to place you within the nest of blankets you called a bed. He never once broke the kiss, not until you were settled onto your back.

He worked his way down your face, kissing your jawline, nipping at your neck. The dress Mason had picked out for you worked to his advantage, giving him perfect access to kiss the tops of your breasts.

The moment he had pulled away from your lips you had tangled your fingers into his hair. You knew where this was going.

“I missed these.” Sam muttered, licking his tongue over the skin of your chest. You only hummed in response.

He continued his way down, fingers looping around your panties before his face ever reached then. He pulled them down, slow and tantalizing, watching the way the lace scraped against your thighs.

There it was. Sam’s own personal heaven, nearly dripping from the way he had you all worked up.

“Sammy…,” you encouraged. He knew what you were asking for. He was happy to deliver.

Sam kissed your inner thigh, relishing in the warmth that increased with every inch closer he got to your center. After just a moment’s pause, he kissed down onto your clit.

The breath was knocked from your lungs when his tongue joined in.

You were pitiful. He’d barely touched you, barely put any effort into his movements, yet you were moaning out his name like it was a prayer. You’d regret this later, maybe, but right now? You weren’t thinking of much more than Sam’s mouth working away at you.

“Mmm, baby, I missed this.” Sam hummed. He brought his thumb up to your clit, just the slightest pressure to get you whining.

“Sammy…,” you huffed. You dropped your hand from his hair to the side of his forehead, cradling his head while he watched your reactions to his movements.

“You’re perfect, you know that?” Sam breathed out, sucking onto you. “That’s why I can’t let you go, you’re perfect.”

You let your eyes flutter shut, throwing your head back. You loved it when he talked like this, when he praised you. It made you feel important.

“You’re perfect for me.”

A primal noise left your throat and you rolled your hips into him.

Sam smirked against you. He knew you would never leave him, not really. All he had to do was come back begging, promise to never do it again, give you a kiss as a way to tie it all together. He’d done it hundreds of times before, and he’d do it hundreds of times more.

You always took him back with open arms -- or, in this case, open legs.

A buzzing from your nightstand broke him from those thoughts.

Your eyes shot open and you tilted your head to the side to look at the device.

“Mase <3” was displayed on the screen.

“It’s-,” you reached for your phone, meaning to hit the volume button to stop the vibrations so you could get back to letting Sam pull you apart. You paused when you felt Sam’s fingers flex into your thighs, catching your attention.

“Answer it,” he ordered, voice just as syrupy sweet as it was earlier. His eyes flashed with mischief. He knew Mason hated him, she’d told him as much each time they saw each other. He didn’t care, not when you would be hanging onto his every word and following him around like a lost puppy. But, it was fun to mess with her.

“What? No.” You wanted to wait for her to find out about all of this. She would be disappointed in you, mad, even. You could see her trying to come over to your place with plans to beat Sam’s ass in her mind. You didn’t want to deal with all of that right now.

“She’s just gonna call back again.” Sam told you. When you still looked hesitant, he placed a gentle kiss on your thigh. “C’mon baby, I’ll be good.”

You melted under him, giving in. You always gave in.

You swiped up your phone, tapping the answer button and holding it up to your ear. You immediately heard the low din of the bar. It was late, but Mason was known for closing the place out every Saturday night.

“How’s it going with the gentleman?” Mason asked cheekily. She usually held her alcohol well, but it didn’t stop the slight slur peeking through in her voice.

“Good.” You weren’t technically lying. It was going good, maybe better than good, but it wasn’t with the man she had set you up with. Then again, if Not-Sam had stayed, you were sure it would have been a very unsatisfying night.

You kept your eyes locked onto Sam. His brown eyes were soft, and you swore you saw love in them, but that may have just been you twisting things. No, he did love you. Just not enough to stop finding himself in other women’s beds.

He stuck true to his word, for about the first minute of your phone call. Your eyes widened as he slowly sunk down, pressing his tongue flat against your center.

“He’s pretty hot, right?” Mason continued. You tried to keep your breathing steady.

“Yeah, super hot.” You agreed. Sam never broke the eye contact he held with you, and you didn’t dare to look away. He wanted you watching him. You knew how bratty he became when he didn’t get what he wanted. You didn’t need him doing anything more to give you away to your babbling best friend.

“And he knows what he’s doing?” Mason questioned. You could see her in your mind, giddily awaiting your answer while she sat at the bar.

“Mhm,” you hummed, biting your lip to stop a moan. You shivered when Sam groaned into you, earning him a narrowing of your eyes to him. Thankfully, Mason didn’t seem to pick up on the noise.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to it, but I want all the juicy details in the morning, kay?”

“Of-,” you started to answer with an “of course, bye!”, but that was when Sam pushed two fingers into you, causing the rest of the sentence to be replaced with a moan.

“Oh my gosh, are you doing him right now?” Mason asked, voice a mix of shock and pride. She’d hope this meant you were coming to your senses, finally leaving Sam in the past.

“Kinda.” You managed to bite out, praying she would just end the call already. It hadn’t occurred to you that you could be the one to end the call, not when Sam was steadily pumping his fingers into you.

“You dirty girl!” Mason exclaimed, giggling. At the same time, Sam spoke, making sure his voice was loud enough to be heard through the phone.

“Such a good girl,” he purred, sucking onto your clit.

“Wait-,” Mason’s voice was scarily sobered up and you nearly withered away in preparation for the impending lecture. “Who is that?” She hoped she had heard wrong, hoped you weren’t stupid enough to be in the position she knew you were in.

“Uh-,” you tried to think of a way out of this, a way to get her off your back, but Sam’s fingers -- the ones not currently inside of you -- wrapped around your phone. He pulled it from your hand effortlessly.

“Hey Mase,” he greeted. He was far too cocky than he usually would be, but the situation was just too perfect. Mason hated him, yet she could never get you to fold the way he did. It did immeasurably amazing things to stoke his ego.

“Fuckin’ Sam.” Mason growled. Seems all the alcohol still couldn’t stop the hatred for the man.

“We’re trying to have a good time, you’re kinda ruining the vibe.” Sam continued his work with his fingers, putting light pressure onto your clit with his thumb.

“Just leave her alone, asshole. Haven’t you hurt her enough?” Mason knew there was no hope in reasoning with him, but she would still try.

“I’m not hurtin’ her right now, promise.” Sam hummed, eyes dragging over your heaving chest. With the phone in his possession, you’d fallen right back into your pleasure. Your head was buried into your blankets, breathy moans leaving your lips.

“You’d better be gone by the time I get there.” Mason warned, and Sam could hear the smack of a door slamming shut.

“Mmm, I don’t think so.” Sam smirked when you clenched around his fingers. He knew you were close. He knew everything about you, down to every twitch of your muscle. He heard the line disconnect, a beep signaling that Mason had ended the call.

He was sure she would be here, banging on your front door, within the next half hour, but that didn’t stop him from taking his time with you. He watched you fall apart on his hand.

“You’re my perfect girl.” Sam rewarded you with after you’d relaxed, a sweet kiss finding its way onto your hip bone. You could only nod and pull him into your arms.

This was the best way to get over a breakup, you’d decided, even if it was with the person who’d broken your heart in the first place.

everything taglist : @littlesoulshine @sacr1ficialang3l @blossomingorchids @plasticflowersinahistorycemetery @mostlymarvelgirl

sam winchester taglist : @hobiespick

[myung-jaes]

USED TO THIS ― lee anton

PAIRING・❥・ anton x fem!reader

GENRE・❥・ social media au, college au, childhood best friends to lovers, mutual pining, slow burn, crack, fluff, angst, some written parts

SYNOPSIS・❥・ anton and yn are literally the epitome of childhood best friends, knowing each other from practically the day they were born with their parents being best friends upon their shared move from korea to the states. throughout the years, they’ve gone through their share of memories, rebounds, and earthquakes. despite this, they could never beat the “falling for your best friend” curse, even as they were separated with yn's move back to korea, it only worsening as anton followed in her steps. though rather than embracing their feelings, the two, with all their stubbornness, choose to bury it down, waiting for the day it all blows up.

WARNINGS・❥・VERY BAD JOKES (i’m trying 😓) profanity, violent jokes, inappropriate jokes, yn and anton love to "jokingly" flirt with each other, but are the most oblivious people and have the worst communication when it comes to their feelings for each other so!!!! + lots of lovely runner mentions bc i’m the biggest anton ryu sunjae enthusiast 😓😓

STATUS・❥・ on-going

TAGLIST・❥・ open!

PLAYLIST・❥・ used to this — camila cabello. love 119 — riize. at my worst — pink sweat$. dress — taylor swift. but i like you — boynextdoor. get you — daniel caesar. nobody gets me — sza. cpr — summer walker. bad habit — steve lacy. open arms — sza. late night calls — p1harmony.

FEATURING ・❥・ot7 riize, ningning of aespa, intak of p1harmony, taesan of boynextdoor, hanni & minji of newjeans, ricky & gyuvin of zb1, taeyoung of cravity

PROFILES ― dress to impress | anton's kidnappers

001. bear filter fetish

002. COFFEE?? COFFEE!!! COFFEE <3333

003. hey upper east siders

004. yn exploded?!

005. oh my god, the voices

006. shawty if you down, i’m down too

007. A KID OUTDANCED WONBIN??

008. papa shotaro 😘

009. a hot new bombshell enters the villa

010. how do u swim on dry land

011. #ANTYN_OUT #YNTON_IN

012. oui, oui, baguette. bisous!

013. sungchan’s dating show

014. can i be ur sugar baby Please

015.

[cupidologys]

⸻ imprint.

pairing: grimmjow x reader

word count: 2.4k

synopsis: life becomes increasingly complicated after a seemingly one-night stand with grimmjow extends way past the one-night mark.

as it turns out, arrancars become very clingy, very fast.

Opening your eyes to an arrancar laid next to you in your bed was not your idea of a happy wake-up call. He was still asleep; his gentle snores break the silence as you spring up, scrambling to retrace last night’s memories. A soft groan leaves you as it all comes flooding back.

The break up. The violent sobbing. The tissues and excessive consumption of bottom shelf tequila. The violent puking. The rebound that was currently still in your bed.

Oh, you are so thoroughly, completely fucked.

You curse yourself. How could you be so stupid as to drunkenly hook up with—

Your thoughts stutter as your brain fully catches up to last night’s memories. You remember the screaming and anger when you found out about your ex’s infidelity, which led to a night of reckless abandonment at a nearby bar, which further led to your very worried friends picking you up and bringing you home. Grimmjow was there for reasons you can’t remember. What you can recall, definitively, is that you did not sleep with him. He had carried you up to your apartment, settled you in bed, and was about to leave when you dragged him into the sheets for cuddles, refusing to let go until he conceded.

Embarrassing? Yes. As bad as hooking up with him? Not by a long shot.

A shift in movement beside you jolts you out of your thoughts. Grimmjow mutters something, voice still groggy with sleep. You freeze and ignore him, pretending not to hear. You pray that he goes back to sleep. Your prayers go unheard.

“[Y/N]?”

Silence.

He blinks one strikingly blue eye open and settles it on you. With a roll of his neck, he stretches out—lazy and languid. You stare straight at your bedroom door, hoping to avoid eye contact—and his incredibly sculpted muscles.

Why the hell is he shirtless?!

“Good morning,” you say with as much casualness as you can muster. It isn’t a lot. Your words come out more strangled than you intended. You want to weep.

Grimmjow doesn’t seem to notice—or care. “Morning. You want coffee?”

“I…” you swallow, unsure of how to navigate this situation. You decide to blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “I think you should go.”

Grimmjow opens his mouth to say something, but something in your expression stops him. He just gives you a slightly perplexed look before nodding slowly.

“You gonna be okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Are you serious?” He scoffs, unbelieving. “You realize the entire reason why I barely slept a wink last night was because you kept tossing, turning, and crying so hard I thought you’d shrivel up from dehydration?”

You feel your cheeks flame.

“You didn’t have to stay!”

Grimmjow moves closer to you, angling himself to face you directly. The proximity makes you dizzy among such tension.

“What was I supposed to do, sweetheart? Leave you to drown in your own tears? I’m not that cruel.”

You repeat yourself, quieter this time. “You still didn’t have to stay.”

“I chose to.”

He moves away, leaving you speechless and confused.

“Get dressed.”

“What?” You reply, still reeling from his words. “Why?”

“I’m taking you to breakfast.”

Dumbfounded, you can only manage another: “What?”

“Breakfast. To replenish all those fluids you lost.” Grimmjow swings his coat over his shoulders before tossing a hoodie on your head. “And to fuel up before killing that ex boyfriend of yours.”

He leaves the room before you can process his words. Once you do, you jump up from the bed with a wince—the hangover still piercing—and scramble after him in alarm.

“Grim! Don’t you fucking dare! Get back here, you overgrown lab rat!”

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

“I need help.”

Ichigo barely looks up from the eggs benedict he’s scarfing down. If you didn’t know him any better, you’d be scared he’d choke.

“Wow. You must be desperate if you’re coming to me for relationship advice.”

“First of all, it's not a relationship. Second of all, I know enough embarrassing things about you to ruin the rest of your very long life if you ever decided to speak of this to someone else.”

He shoots you a sideways look. “Noted.”

You anxiously drum your fingers on the table. “It’s about Grimmjow.”

Ichigo wrinkles his nose. “What about him?”

“He’s been acting weird.”

The shinigami bites into a piece of bacon. You already regret bringing him to brunch to sort this out. Sadly, it was the only way to get him to bail on his college club meeting.

“Weird how?” He asks between chews.

You sigh. “I don’t even know. Ever since that night, something’s been different. He’s weirdly clingy—the other day, I was running errands and ended up with a six-foot-one tag-along for every single one. It made my bank visit and hair appointment interesting, to say the least. Does he have a crush on me now or something?”

“Oh that’s not new.”

You look at Ichigo in puzzlement. “What are you talking about?”

“The crush? That’s not new. Whatever this thing is, it’s worse,” he answers nonchalantly.

The news makes your head spin. Grimmjow has a crush on you? Why? How? Since when? Was it when he moved to the human world?

Ichigo’s voice pulls you from your spiral. “Have you watched any vampire or werewolf movies?”

You balk at the insinuation. “Are you saying he imprinted on me? Like some kind of giant freak baby duck?!”

“More like he’s simply gotten attached to you… maybe it’s some weird arrancar mating thing?” Ichigo offers.

You deflate. “That is so not better.”

He shrugs. “You’re the one that decided to get into bed with an arrancar.”

“We didn’t do anything!”

“...Would you want to?”

You open your mouth for a firm rejection, but for some reason the words lodge in your throat. Grimmjow is rough around the edges, without question. He’s stubborn, reckless, and a pain in your ass. Regardless, you’ve been privy to his genuinity firsthand. You can’t recall a single time he hadn’t been there for you when you needed him.

“I don’t know,” you sigh.

“You should figure that out then. It seems you both have some complicated feelings to sort out.”

୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧

Your phone hasn’t stopped buzzing for the last twenty minutes. Your ex has found another number already—the last one was blocked only two days ago. You have half a mind to throw your phone into the pond in front of you. The koi fish probably wouldn’t be too happy about that, though—and neither would their owner. Out of respect for the wildlife—and Rukia—you settle for shutting the device off entirely. A temporary fix, yes, but at least you’ll have some peace and quiet for the rest of the night.

The party inside is in full swing—crowds of people mill around the house with drinks in hand and inhibitions loose. The music is so loud the bass shakes the foundations of the building; four stories of flashing lights, hazy vapours, and drunken stupors thrum a few hundred feet behind you. Rukia’s place is huge—perfect for a summer send off for a bunch of rowdy college students. You only hope Byakuya doesn’t find out about this one. The last time that happened… you cringe at the memory.

The garden is far enough from the main part of the house—mansion, more appropriately—that you only hear muffled beats of the blaring stereos and screaming students. A good thing too as you feel a headache coming on from the events of the night. You sit on a soft patch of grass a few metres from the edge of the water, watching as shining fish circle each other in colourful rhythms. The solo cup in your hand has long run dry. You prefer to stay sober from now on; you don’t need a repeat of what happened two months ago.

The moon is high against the dark canvas of the sky. It should be half past one by now. From your experience, the partygoers won’t filter out until hours later.

The sound of footsteps makes you turn. Grimmjow saunters towards you, a beer in hand. You aren’t sure how to act around him. You haven’t ever since you found out about his crush on you. You aren’t even sure you believe it to be true; it’s Grimmjow, for heaven’s sake. A crush? Romantic feelings? Such concepts don’t even exist in the lives of people like him.

Regardless, it’s been an awkward couple of weeks—for you, at least. It’s not easy trying to ignore an arrancar hellbent on pestering you every second of the day.

You’d be lying if you say you haven’t missed him though.

“Drink?” He holds out his bottle to you in offering.

You wince. “Better not. I have plans tomorrow morning.”

He takes a seat next to you in the grass. You shuffle over slightly, still wary of his closeness. The movement makes him frown, but surprisingly, he doesn’t comment on it.

“What plans?”

“I…” You hesitate. For reasons you don’t want to understand, it feels uncomfortable to tell him. “I have a date.”

Grimmjow’s beer bottle shatters in his hand, spraying him with alcohol. You jump up in alarm, panicking at the mess of glass and foaming liquid.

“Holy shit! Are you okay?! What the hell was that?!”

“I’m fine,” he grits out between clenched teeth.

You stare at him in bewilderment. The liquid drips down his forearm, pooling at his feet. Glass shards litter the grass around him as he wipes his hand on the front of his jeans.

“Let me see your hand.”

He pulls away from you as you try to take his hand in yours. “I said I’m fine.”

“Your hand, Grimmjow. Give it,” you insist.

He grumbles in annoyance but eventually relents. He was right—there’s no cut in sight. His skin is unbroken and… really, really warm. You yank your hand away, flustered at the heated contact.

“A date? Seriously?”

“Huh?” You look up, embarrassment forgotten. He’s looking straight ahead towards the pond and garden fixtures, avoiding direct eye contact with you.

He’s beautiful.

You startle yourself with that sudden thought. When did you start noticing the little things? Like the curve of his lips and the vibrance of his eyes. When did you start viewing him… differently? You ignore these dangerous thoughts—pushing them aside to maintain a semblance of control.

“What’s wrong with a date?”

He grunts in answer. He still hasn’t looked at you.

“It’s just this blind date thing I promised a friend I would try. It’s not like it’ll go anywhere,” you ramble. You’re not quite sure why you feel the need to explain yourself but you do it regardless. “Anyway, I’m still dealing with the break-up so it’s not like I have time or the mental capacity to actually date.”

“You still haven’t moved on?” He asks, disgust lacing his tone.

You shrug. From your asshole ex? Absolutely. From the emotional turmoil of the relationship’s aftermath? Not so much.

“I’m dealing with it.”

Grimmjow does not like that answer. “For fucks sake, [Y/N], how are you still hung up on him? How is he worth this? Any of this? That bastard hasn’t deserved you since the day he got you!”

Your jaw drops at his outburst.

“Why are you getting so worked up about this?”

“Because you’re being fucking stupid!” Grimmjow stands up and starts pacing. The unexpected argument sends you spiralling into a fit of anger matching his own.

“Excuse me?” You stand up too and narrow your eyes at the arrancar.

He whips around to you, all six-foot-one of him towering over your frame. The heat emanating off of him is palpable in the chilly night air. His gaze is sharp—cutting into your own with intense emotion.

“You’re stupid because you don’t realize you deserve better.”

“And what? Who the hell is better? You?” You’re pushing him for a reaction.

He gives it to you.

“Yes!”

The word makes you both freeze. Grimmjow looks shocked at his own response; his eyes are so wide you can see your own surprise reflected in their icy blue.

“So you do have feelings for me,” you whisper.

Grimmjow’s head drops, his gaze now boring into the ground. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was embarrassed.

“Was that not fucking obvious?” He grumbles.

“Apparently not to me.”

He rubs his neck and lets out a long breath. “Well…” His eyes focus on you. “Now you know.”

Your heart is beating so fast it feels like it’ll burst out of your chest.

“Are you gonna say anything?” Grimmjow asks uneasily. He fidgets with his hair, anxiously waiting for your reply.

“You’re one of my closest friends, Grim. I don’t like change. I’m not very good at it,” you note.

“But what if the change is good?”

You cough out a dry laugh. “Are you saying you’re good? You? Mr. Almighty Espada?”

“Depends who you ask.”

You pretend to think. “Hmm… how about Ichigo?”

“Who cares what that moron thinks.”

“Well, considering he’s my best friend—”

Grimmjow scowls. “Still not thrilled about that, by the way.”

You smile at his indignation.

“I’m not cancelling my date.”

“What?” Grimmjow’s face falls and you try not to giggle at how easily he resembles a kicked puppy.

“Tomorrow. 5pm. Pick me up then?”

It takes a second for him to register what you mean, but when he does, he smirks and throws an arm around you, pulling you in for a side-hug that nearly suffocates you. You don’t mind at all.

“Or we can just start the date now.”

You laugh. “Slow done, cowboy. I have to change my number first thing tomorrow morning. He hasn’t stopped blowing up my phone.”

Grimmjow growls. “You know, you shouldn’t have stopped me from killing him last time.”

“Sometimes, I don’t know if you’re joking.” You tilt your head in concern. “It’s worrying.”

He shoots you an irritated look. “Why would I be joking?”

You merely shake your head, looking at him in amusement. For the first time in a long while, you have a feeling that everything will work out just fine.

[jaetyun]

your biggest fan — p.wonbin

since your brother formed a band with his friends in high school, you've had a massive crush on the aloof and reserved wonbin. him never paying you mind never bothered you until they became famous, and now you have to share him with every other fangirl. now that they're on tour, it's the perfect opportunity to make wonbin realize he doesn't want to share you either.

rockstar!wonbin x fem!reader

feat. y/n as chaein purki, riize uses w2e for promotional pics sometimes, various other idols including nct, kep1er, nmixx, ive, & p1harmony

smau, brothers best friend, childhood (well middle school) friends to lovers, might get suggestive & included nsfw jokes but no smut, kinda inspired by the summer i turned pretty but it's vague

a/n: this was a yeonjun drabble repurposed also i know i said no more smaus but BOOOOO this one will be short pinky promise

tag list is: open | updates non-regularly

profiles 1 | profiles 2

01. operation loverboy

02. the siren tour

03. last resort lobotomy

04. rodrick heffley

05. the little sister curse

06. operation loverboy cancelled

07. despicable me (the canon event)

08. spread eagle

09. i'll rock that twinks shit

10. the boning of y/n

11. why is my rebound being edged