#a very unsettling guy… and you don’t know why…

[mearchy]

The best fics are the ones that recognize that although Luke Skywalker may APPEAR on the outside to be a normal friendly twink who happens to have cool powers, especially when contrasted with such ship partners as Boba or Din or even Han, he is arguably the scariest person alive in the galaxy around the prequel era. AND, crucially, he is also a fundamentally weird guy. This man was homeschooled on a rural farm his entire life and then apprenticed to a swamp gremlin who showed him how to tap into the cosmic power of the universe. He blew up the death star age 19, killing approx 2 million-ish Imperials. He is a vortex of Force power that can communicate with the ghosts of dead Jedi. He’s staring into the distance and mumbling to himself and doing Yoda aphorisms and casually pulling out the “yeah I could crush that guy into a paste with my mind (:” and nobody around him knows what to do with that. I think he is a character who has very little frame of reference for how a Jedi or a person in general is supposed to act and there is some thing about him that is by necessity really fucking weird and a little scary but he’s so nice that it can throw you off the scent a little bit. Thanks for coming to my TED talk

[sloaneispunk]

“Too sweet”

dbf!joel x you

joel miller, you knew joel when you were younger, all you could remember was that he left before he really did make an impact in your life. you didn’t remember much of him while growing up, it was just a passing thing, you thought.

that all changed when joel decided to come back years later.

( p.s. guys, this is a whole ass story but i think you’ll like it )

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Part One

“honey, come help me set the table.” your father asked from the kitchen as you raced from your room.

“i’m here. whatd’ya need help with?” you said.

today was the start of the holiday break for everyone, it was also a special tradition for your dad to host a barbecue for all the family mutuals to gather ‘round, and exchange life stories on the past months.

“dad, why do we have this every year? i don’t even know half these people. they’re like twice my age.” you groaned, spreading the table mat smoothly on the wooden table.

“you’ll have fun, plus sarah’s comin’ it’s a good time to catch up with her. you haven’t seen each other for like-what? 6 years?”

“i don’t even think she remembers me.”

“oh, she does, honey. i bet mr. miller misses you too. you remember him?”

oh.

oh?

joel miller?

then, you were briefly interrupted by the quickened knocks on your door. “go on, dear, i’ll get the door.” your father instructed.

indistinct conversations were heard as more and more people walked through the door, being warmly invited in by your father. most of them weren’t foreign faces, majority had been over before for these family events.

as you were placing the cartons of beer on the table, a tough hand came to swoop the alcohol in your hands away.

“hey, i was just-”

“hiya, darlin’ ” the man said, cutting you off.

you looked up at the man, expecting an old menacing pervert friend of your dad’s.

“hey…” you replied, not sparing him from a very obnoxious suspicious look.

he must have sensed the unsettling feeling you had and immediately made up for it. “i’m sorry, darlin’, where are my manners?” he chuckled, “i’m mr. miller, i didn’t think you’d forget me that easy.”

“oh… hey mr. miller. yeah, no sorry, i didn’t recognise you at all.” you managed to breathe out, breath getting all caught up in your throat.

joel flashed you a smile, shaking his head in disbelief. “don’t tell me i’ve aged that bad, makin’ me feel old, kid.”

old? how old was he?

“yeah, it’s been a while, mr. miller. you look great though.”

he did. joel miller had aged like fine wine. ash gray coating his brown locks perfectly, his honey-brown eyes reflected by the sunlight that beamed through the window, face perfectly sculpted, leaving him looking like a greek god.

joel took a swipe at his beer, chugging the alcohol down before he shot you a reply. “really? i’m already 53, didn’t think you had somethin’ for this old man.” he joked.

you nearly choked at that. “you look pretty too, darlin’, really pretty. look out for yourself tonight, many other men around, wouldn’t want them to be seein’ya like this.” he said, pointing to your sundress that you had on specially for tonight’s barbecue.

after that, you lingered in the words he said even as he walked out, heading outside to join your father and his friends.

“holy shit… joel miller is hot.” you muttered out to yourself, gathering what was left of your dignity, pacing around the house to trace your thoughts.

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Part Two

you thought hard about what joel said, sure you wanted to look your best, but he did have a point. but was there something else to it? was he jealous?

you threw over a sweater before heading outside, joining the rest of your family as they ate and talked to the others.

it was mainly boring but the thing that got you going through the evening were the quick glances that you swore you got from joel. it was subtle, but obvious enough for only you to notice.

“y/n? oh my god, is that really you?” a high pitched squeal came from a distance, making you whip your head around.

“sarah! it’s been so long!” you greeted the girl as she wrapped her arms around you. “holy shit, you’re all grown up!”

“i could say the same thing about you, look at you, jesus, you look amazing.” she gawked. “oh- dad! it’s y/n! can you believe it?”

your eyes grew wide. not again… just as fast as sarah appeared, joel was immediately pulled next to her, the pair now standing in front of you as you flashed them an awkward smile.

do you ignore him? play it cool?

“right… hey, kid. haven’t seen ya in a long time, how are ya?” joel asked.

it was as if he hadn’t been flirting with you in the kitchen earlier. what was going on?

“y-yeah, hi, i’m great.” you replied, a frown upon your face, glancing at sarah for “help”

“oh! janette is here! you two catch up, i’ll come back later!” sarah exclaimed, leaving you two behind.

you honestly didn’t know what to say or do. why was joel acting so strange?

“want a drink, babygirl?” when you gave him an uncertain look, his gaze softened, “c’mon i’ll get’ya one.”

you followed joel closely behind back to the house, accepting his offer of the beer that he had in his hands.

“so… just thought you should know, me and sarah are moving back here.” he said, handing you a cold bottle from the fridge.

‘yeah, thanks. like this isn’t my house’ you thought.

“oh, really? where’d you go all these years, actually?” you asked, settling down on the table seat, hand under your chin as if joel was telling you a very intriguing story, wide eyed as you waited for his answer.

“had a contracting job a few states away, your father was practically bribing me to stay but you know…”

“so you’re done? with the contracting work?”

“not really, just moved the business back here for your daddy.”

daddy, huh.

“that’s cool.” you sighed, taking a swipe at the beer before nearly puking it all out. “ew, what is this?” you choked out.

joel laughed a little before he swooped to your side, his hands rubbing up and down your back, helping you to steady your breathing after nearly choking to death.

his touch was hot on your skin, even through the sweater. yoy could feel all your senses tingling and all you could feel now was joel.

joel joel joel joel joel…

“your daddy must’ve gotten it, it does taste a little funny.” he joked.

a moment of silence filled the room, it wasn’t awkward or anything like that, in fact, it was comforting. at that moment, all you could feel, hear, smell and think about was joel miller, your dad’s best friend, within centermeters from you, touching you.

then, his hand started to travel up from your back, slowly tracing the soft fabric of your sweater all the way up to your shoulder, giving them a gentle squeeze before catching your hair between his fingers.

“what’re you doing?” you whispered, voice barely coming out as a whisper as your eyes glued onto his hand.

“nothin’, darlin’. you’re just really pretty…” joel replied, “thank you for covering up, i’m a selfish old bastard, i know.”

“it’s okay, thank you for looking out for me.” you said, tearing your gaze from his hand to his face now, seeing his big doe eyes staring down at you already. joel could still feel your breath fanning the top of his hand, sucking in at the way he was so easily getting aroused by you.

but this was wrong.

joel was aware of the line that he was going to cross if this continued, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it. with one last soft finger, he tapped our nose lightly, making you scrunch up your face.

“i-” you hesitated saying something to joel, stopping him in his tracks. “nothin’” joel nodded and he walked out of the room, slamming the fromt door shut leaving you behind again.

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Part Three

It was weeks after the barbecue and things had went back to normal. it was rather boring this year, you had nothing to really occupy yourself with. most of the times you were just huddled in the comfort of your room, if not, you were out shopping for the sake of it.

for joel however, it has been the craziest few weeks. his mind was racing every second of the day, it used to be work that took up his time, but now, it was you.

joel was obsessed.

he craved you, he wanted to feel the warmth of your skin on his hands again. but it was more than just skin deep, there was an aura that bloomed all around you, you were bubbly, kind and sweet. too sweet for an old man like him.

but that didn’t stop him from imagining. he imagined your hands on him whenever he was alone. how they would feel compared to his, the softness, the gentleness of a girl he was twice the age of, his best friend’s perfect little girl

at nights when sarah was deep asleep, he often found himself jacking off to the thought of you.

‘that’s it baby, you like it when daddy’s best friend is balls deep in ya?’

‘good girl darlin’, takin’ me so well’

the profanities slipping past his lips as he came twice as fast as he normally would. a grown man like him would have probably lost his vigor but oh no, he would come three, even four times if he had it in him that day.

in simple words, he was obsessed. he was crazy about you, and he didn’t know why

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Part Four

about a month had passed and it was like deja vu, you were back in the kitchen, setting up the dinner table for guests to come over.

but this time, the only “guests” were sarah and joel.

“dad, don’t serve that beer please.” you groaned, placing an overdramatic hand over your head. “one, it tastes horrible, and two, i really wouldn’t like to be in a room of two men who are drunk before 8pm hits.”

“too bad, hon’, mr. miller and i are getting drunk. it’s a holiday.” your dad let out a hearty laugh.

then, dinner ensued, your dad and mom were sitting opposite each other, sarah and joel on the opposite side of the table you were on. even though joel was only residing nearby your house, he arrived with a white button up with casual jeans, and damn he looked good.

“so, sarah, how’s the boyfriend?” your mother questioned the girl, making her grow wide eyed, slapping joel on the arm.

“you told them?!”

joel just shrugged, obviously enjoying the ongoing conversation.

“he’s fine, we’re just taking it really slow… how ‘bout you, y/n? is there a lucky guy yet?” sarah asked, wiggling her eyebrows at you, making you slightly rolling your eyes

“no…”

joel’s eyes lit up like a lightbulb.

“…but i do have a date later.”

‘you had a what?!’ joel thought, briefly choking on his beer.

“later? hon’ you didn’t tell us anything about a date?” you father asked.

“slipped my mind, but we’re just going out for drinks, it’ll be really quick.” you replied, gaze avoiding joel’s even though you could feel him burning a hole through you with the way that he was staring.

“anyway, how’s the move going?” you tried to change the topic, avoiding the unpleasant conversation.

you felt bad, you did. but you knew that joel would never look at you the way you looked at him, you knew he saw it as more of a geniune care and adoration towards you than a lust or sinful want. to distract yourself, you had agreed to go on a date with a friend of yours. just to get your mind of the man you truly wanted.

it was about half past 8 when you took your leave, politely excusing yourself from the table to prepare to head out.

“don’t be back too late, sweetie!” your father called out as you took a last look into the mirror, smoothing your hair out before you left the house.

“i won’t, love you!”

at the bar, you didn’t know what you were expecting but it definitely wasn’t this. your date was so self absorbed he fed off any kinds of attention he got.

“no way, did you see how the bartender looked at me?”

“she practically touched my hand, like, she might as well give me her phone number at this point.”

‘god, this guy was insufferable’

just then, a familiar figure approached the two of you, it was joel. how did he know you were here? and what was he doing here?

“hey, darlin’, ready to go home?” he asked, his southern accent coating his every word as you just sat and stared.

“what?”

“your daddy wants you home right now, babygirl.” he replied, draping a hand over your shoulder almost protectively.

you got the hint from joel and hopped out of your seat, his hands grabbing your waist, helping you down.

“i’ll uh, see you tomorrow?” the poor boy who once was your date a few minutes ago now looked deflated, you pitied him but, god, you didn’t want to spend any longer with his self-absorbed ass.

before you got the chance to say goodbye, joel yanked you out of the bar, the cool air faded from around you as you stepped into the warmth of the carpark.

“what’re you doing joel? i was having fun!” you said to the older man as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

“yeah, sure you were, darlin’ ” he scoffed, opening the door of his truck, lifting you up with ease onto the passenger seat next to his.

you tried to protest but he was basically manhandling you, strapping you in tightly before he shut the truck door, heading to the driver’s side, settling in.

“if you really wanted to go back to your little date, you would be trying way harder to get out.” he stated as the engine of the truck boomed.

he had a point

then, it was silence all the way back to your house, the only sound was the radio playing softly in the background. you huffed, turning to look outside of the window as you passed the streets.

when you weren’t looking, joel was stealing peeks from you, a soft smile plastered on his lips. there was a pang of guilt but an even stronger sense of satisfaction coursing through his veins.

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Part Five

joel unlocked the fromt door with a spare key he had on him, signalling for you to be quiet while taking a step in.

“why are y-”

joel’s hand clamped onto your mouth, your words coming out muffled. then, you realised why, your dad was passed our drunk on the sofa, legs and hands sprawled out like a starfish, making you giggle behind his hand.

joel smiled at you before taking your hand in his subconsciously, dragging you upstairs before both your laughters would wake your father up.

you led joel into your room, quickly closing the door before a roar of laughter bursted our from you and joel. you joined him on the edge of the bed as you caught your breath, feeling more welcomed home than you ever had.

“don’t go tomorrow.”

“what?”

“the date. don’t go.”

“why not?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder as you looked up at him.

“go out with me instead. please?” joel’s voice broke at his plea, his eyes showing nothing but care and affection towards you.

his smell was intoxicating you, the close proximity making the tension almost too hard to ignore.

“if we do this, i won’t be able to stop.” he said in a hushed voice.

“don’t.”

in a single heartbeat, his lips were on yours, a moan errupting out of him and it was the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

joel pulled you off from the bed and onto his lap, a shriek coming from you as he chuckled. joel started leaving open-mouthed kisses on your neck, they were sure to leave a mark tomorrow but he didn’t care, that was the fun of it.

“c’mon babygirl, i know you want this, show me how much you need it.”

you dumbly nodded, swallowing hard as you started to rid of your clothes, each one hitting the floor one after another. eventually, you were left with only your bra and panties on.

“baby, you can’t do this to me. gonna kill me darlin’ ” joel moaned, seeing the glimmer of mischief in your eyes. “what so you want me to do? use your words darlin’ girl, i’ll do anything you want.”

“i want you to fuck me, joel.”

“oh, baby… i fuckin’ want to but i can’t. not today.” he said, placing a sweet kiss on your forehead. joel saw the disappointment on your face, lightly chuckling, “but i can make you come.”

“yes, please.”

“good girl, baby. what’dya want? my mouth? my fingers?”

“your fingers, please joel.”

whimpers escaped your mouth as joel slowly slipped his finger into your panties, a finger tracing your pussy, gathering the slick that was forming steadily.

“don’t tease me, baby, i wanted this for so long.” you begged.

and that turned joel on even more.

“yeah? tell me how much you’ve thought about this.” he urged, finally plunging a finger into your tight cunt as you gasped.

“wanted this since the day you came back.” you cried, clinging onto joel’s shoulders, burying your head into the crook of his neck, taking in his scent.

“dirty girl, why didn’t you tell me, hm? would’ve given it to you anytime you wanted.”

you were so far gone, drunk on joel that you could only nodded and whimper at his words.

a loud whine erupted from you as he started abusing your hole with two fingers now, thrusting them in an animalistic rate. your legs were shaking, forehead covered in sweat as you tried not to come too quickly.

“aw, poor thing, baby, don’t hold back. just let go, c’mon darlin’, come on my fingers.” joel instructed, giving you a hard thrust of his fingers, causing tears to form in your eyes. he leaned down, right next to your ear and whispered something that you could never forget.

“come for daddy, darlin’ ”

you gushed around him, liquid splashing all over his jeans as you let out a loud gutteral moan of his name.

he continued to fuck you through your orgasm, praising you as you came down from your high, hands gripping onto his shirt as you sobbed.

“how’re we feeling, babydoll? you okay?” he asked as soon as he sensed you calming down.

you nodded, tearing your face away from his shoulders. “yeah… thank you joel.”

“don’t needa thank me, i should be thankin’ you. never seen anyone look that pretty an’all when they come.”

you groaned, hands covering your face in embarrassment as he laughed at you. that night, you laid in his arms until the crack of dawn. joel slipped out the front door without waking your father up, being gone without a single trace if him being in your room the night before…

…except for the kisses he planted all over tour face before he left, and his number on your phone.

‘joel miller, what are you doing to me?’

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part two comin soon

[saetoru]

this blog is now archived !! find my MASTERLIST here !!

hi guys, and here’s a long overdue post that i wanted to take the time to make after collecting as many screenshots as i can for a lot of rumors that i think need to be addressed. before i do that, i wanted to apologize to all of my mutuals who ended up wrongfully harassed in their inboxes for simply knowing me—the irony of this issue being about bullying all the while people on this app have been simultaneously being genuinely awful to other writers who have zero involvement has been ridiculous.

i would’ve made this post sooner, but december was very busy—as you all know, i’ve been working with two separate companies for my capstone projects, and i had final presentations with boards to worry about. and then a cruise which was fun, but i was offline. now that i’ve finally had time to enjoy my break and collect my thoughts, i’d like to voice my own side to the discourse i’m sure you’ve all seen posted by @/garoujo, who is now @/gojoath.

first and foremost, i’ve been on tumblr for almost 4 years now, and while i may not have the brightest moments on here (no one will be spot-free in that amount of time), i’d like to think that if i actually went out of my way to vicious or bully people, this would’ve come to people’s attention a lot sooner. i’ve had a relatively large following across all 6 of my blogs in my time here, and while i don’t like to get into the metrics of my blogs, the reason i point this out is because i have willingly started my blog over 6 times. 3 of these were sfw blogs under my nickname tee, another 2 of which were my previous nsfw blogs under a different alias, and saetoru which is the current one, where i finally decided to combine my sfw and nsfw writing into one space. i just wanted to bring that up because i had quite a habit of leaving and restarting blogs before this one, and had i been obsessed with outperforming other writers in terms of follower counts, i would not have left the previous ones as often as i did. 

that being said, i’ll also go through a timeline of events and how they’ve snowballed into an issue that is not as one-sided as most of you might think. i’ve been mutuals with emmie since my first blog, and i’d been mutuals with her through most of her blogs as well. we’ve never really had issues until her last blog @/garoujo, which she’d started after deactivating @/atsymu due to discourse regarding racism accusations. the reason why we had a falling out was because i felt that there were a series of odd coincidences that felt slightly purposeful, but i was still questioning whether or not i was looking too deeply into it to actually point any of it out.

admittedly, when i saw her first set of banners, i felt our layouts were a slight bit similar, but i really didn’t mind too much because i had been planning to change my banners anyway because i was bored of them. so i took that as an opportunity to do so. it just so happened that within a day or two of every time i changed my banners, hers would be changed too—i never said i owned the color gray, and i even fully acknowledge that the last two sets of banners, at first glance, wouldn’t be a red flag. because, like i said, i was more uncomfortable with the pattern of coincidences than the actual layouts. then i switched to my instagram theme, and not long after, i noticed her add instagram story visuals to her navi. again, no one ever said instagram was my original idea, and that no one else could use it, but it was an unsettling feeling having the same moot continuously make changes around the same time as you, and changes that are different enough that you can’t exactly point out an issue, but slightly similar enough that you can’t exactly ignore the slight oddness.

coincidentally, the same day, another blog (who i will not name bc they’re not very active anymore and are also not very relevant to this story) made the same theme as me and i was a bit peeved because this same blog is someone who has copied a few other things from me and a handful of other moots, so i made a subpost on my moots-only personal blog at the time. keep in mind, i made this post fully aware that emmie was on this blog because i didn’t intend for that post to seem like it was about her. but she reached out to me, and i explained to her the situation, and i even provided the relevant screenshots to show my points. i still considered her a decently good friend at the time, and even with the slightly off feelings, i was still adamant about brushing them off and considering them coincidences that perhaps i was being a bit too critical of.

it wasn’t until i woke up a few hours later after changing my theme and going to bed that i noticed she’d then fully switched to the insta theme. again, instagram is an app used by millions and, at one point, was a very popular theme used amongst most people on this app. i’m not entitled enough to believe i was the first person to do it, but like i said. there are just off vibes most of us will not help but feel when a series of coincidences continue to happen back to back to back by the same person.

there were, amongst these things, a number of other small touches that made me feel off. most of them i don’t remember by now or have screenshots of, so i won’t bother to go into all of them, but for reference, one example i’d also like to point out that i’d had the phrase “you’ve reached the hanmas” in my inbox when she was still on @/atsymu, and sometime after, her sfw blog @/loveatsu had the phrase “you’ve reached the miyas.” small things like this are not things i make an issue over and am more than capable of brushing aside, but like i have said and will continue to push firmly is that i felt there were multiple instances of emmie, in particular, making small tweaks to her blog shortly after me that made me feel were not all coincidentally similar. the issue was never themes or thinking i am the first or only person to do something a certain way, the issue has always been me countless times feeling that one particular individual is exhibiting a behavior that is persistent and uncomfortable no matter how minuscule the instances may be. maybe they were really just unfortunate coincidences that happened with poor timing, or maybe they weren’t. but i stand by the fact that anyone in my shoes would be valid to question the timing of each of these events over and over again.

i would also like to bring up kinktober (though this happened a while after the rest of what i will get into) because this was the first public discourse that emmie and i got into due to an anon’s claims of similarities between our posts. i had received an anon who told me “i think someone copied your kinktober masterlist” which i answered to ask if they could let me know who. they had come back to say it was garoujo, and i did not reply to the ask, instead, i made a post to vaguely tell the anon that i appreciate them letting me know, but i will just leave it be and continue on with my kinktober regardless of emmie’s mlist. i do think there were some vague similarities, but honestly not enough to really question it, so i figured a confrontation or issue was not necessary. a while later, several moots had messaged me to let me know they had received anonymous asks saying to “block @/garoujo she copied @/sakusins and she’ll copy you too” (or something along those lines, i don’t remember exactly.) i myself was very confused (and upset) by the situation because i did not, and still would not, want to be publicly name-dropped in other people’s inboxes over issues that do not involve them. unfortunately, it led to some not-very-kind asks to both of us, and while i am sorry she had to deal with that, it is not an apology from a sense of culpability. that situation was, and still is, entirely out of my control. i would not have seen the masterlist unless the anon had mentioned it, and i did not take part in having people send asks about her to other writers. especially not in a manner that was pretty much social suicide for me as well. 

(this is a poorly made collage i know lol but i hit the picture limit bear with me here.)

i would also like to point out that i am not the only individual who has had issues with emmie and feels she had copied them. although i cannot disclose urls (they have been blocked out for privacy reasons) here are a few conversations i have had with my own mutuals, and i would wager there are more people whom i haven’t talked to who also feel this way. they might be small enough instances that sparking issues over them was not worth it to all of these people, therefore she has never heard from people herself about this issue, but the point does still stand that this claim about emmie is not one i alone make, and is one that i have heard countless times before. her never being approached by these individuals for the sake of peace doesn’t erase that they have been, and are, upset by these events, and it’s a habit that she seems to continually partake in. i would also like to link this post where she has been called out by another writer while she was still atsymu, which was posted while we were still friends. i’ve actually had a discussion with emmie about that post, and at the time, i had quickly skimmed the post and felt it was perhaps a reach, but after my own experiences, i went back to reread the post and considered perhaps there was validity to it, and that this might not be a one time occurrence. plagiarism in manners such as this will always have conflicting opinions, and it is hard to sometimes tell if something is a coincidence, a popular and overused idea, or something that has actually been copied. my point is that a number of people have all felt that perhaps there is a good chance this was not an accident, and please consider that so many instances of people feeling this way might suggest that there is a certain degree of validity to the claim.

at the beginning of all of this, when the masterlist banners had first started bothering me, i was upset, and i chose to vent to an ex-moot of mine who most of you would recognize as munsonsins. abby has deactivated a long while ago, but she’s relevant to this because i had chosen to vent to her at the time, and this is more or less what later caused this situation to escalate. at the time of venting to her, i knew she wasn’t mutuals with emmie because, as you can see, she’d told me as such. 

one thing i would like to point out is that there were a handful of people i had vented to about my frustrations with emmie, but one thing i had always been mindful of was ensuring these were a) individuals who i considered close friends and not just random individuals, and b) were not friends or moots with emmie in the event that i accidentally made people who she cared about think lesser of her. had abby been mutuals with emmie, i would not have shared my feelings, and once again, i was not loose-lipped enough to just tell anyone because they’d listen. i told abby in particular because i had felt we were sufficiently close individuals who talked one-on-one and were able to vent to each other. a bit after i vented to her, though, she befriended emmie, which i had no such issues with because abby was/is her own person and is an adult who can interact freely and befriend whoever she wanted/wants to. 

not long after that, on the night before eid (this detail is relevant in the future) an ex moot of mine @/kazuwhora reached out to me. if you guys remember, there was a discourse last year that was all over dash about how writers on this app should be open to criticism. a lot of people (including me and kc) were upset by that sentiment—which is still valid. please don’t give constructive criticism to writers without their explicit permission !! but regardless, kc sent me a screenshot of a mutual of mine who had posted their opinion on this discourse, and their point was clearly that while constructive criticism is important in some aspects, writers do not have to be subject to receiving it should they not want to. unfortunately, i felt as if kc misunderstood what this individual was trying to say, and i was trying to explain it to her, but we got into a small argument over how we interpreted the post. i felt some of the things she was saying about this individual were inappropriate, and i had made it clear that i was very fond of this person, and it made me uncomfortable to be having this discussion. regardless of whether she saw my interpretation of the post or not, i wanted to drop the discussion, especially because it was the night before eid. eid is the one holiday i celebrate, and there are traditions i quite enjoy the night before, and i didn’t want them to be spoiled with a poor mood over a silly argument. unfortunately, she wasn’t very willing to drop the topic, and it ended up making me upset. so i posted this screenshot to my moots only personal from the conversation that consisted of my messages only and said, “tonight i had to explain what a debate is.” it was petty, perhaps, but very harmless, seeing as there was no context given and no names/pfps to indicate who the person was.

truthfully, i had vented separately to cat, eris, and abby about this argument because i was friends with the three of them at the time, but needless to say, venting to your friends about arguments is a universal action, and i believe it is something all of us have partaken in. 

eventually, i decided to softblock emmie because i felt it would be more comfortable for me on my blog to do so. after a bit, i was informed of a subpost that seemed like it couldn’t be about anyone other than me—to make things clear, emmie subposting me was not my concern. i did not hold it against her because she is more than entitled to have her own feelings and vents on her own blog, but the thing that did concern me was that it seemed slightly evident that she was aware of my feelings when i had never explicitly had a conversation with her. it made me question who would tell her, and as you may have guessed, the only person with whom i had shared my concerns who could also be in contact with emmie was abby. 

at the time, eris had also voiced concerns that they had trusted abby with the ending of the plot for the diluc series they were planning, and coincidentally, one of abby’s friends had posted a fic idea eerily similar to their concept, to which abby had been commenting and reblogging more brainstormed ideas under. all of these ideas were very close to the plans eris had for their series plot, and understandably, they felt that it was not a mere coincidence that their entire plot was being brainstormed on dash by a person who was fully aware of their outline. i’d voiced my concerns with believing that abby may have also been sharing things i trusted her with, and as a result we both had made a few vague subposts that we liked from each other—a petty behavior, i will admit, but not something that i think is very out of the norm for a lot of people on this app. sometimes, we all just want to vent out our frustrations, and because we all more or less use tumblr as an outlet, these can sometimes be vaguely taken to dash. it’s not something that is ideally recommended (i’ve learned the hard way) but it’s also ?? not exactly something that only i’m guilty of, or is even a rare behavior. i think to shoot down one person for this behavior is quite frankly hypocritical. again, subposting isn’t a habit i would like to push as mature but it’s something i’d like to point out is very normal in this community, and is not something only i take part in. beyond that, i take to ensuring that whenever i do, i’m not explicitly exposing who i’m talking about in order to keep them out of unnecessary issues. 

after this conversation with eris, it kind of solidified in my mind that i did not want to trust abby with any more personal vents, or information, and i had ultimately decided to soft block her too. i had also decided to take the opportunity to softblock kc as well because i figured i might as well just remove individuals who i felt made me uncomfortable. this is, again, my right to do so to curate my own space. not long after, cat, eris, and i had been softblocked/hardblocked by a number of moots, and we were a bit confused, until cat ended up having a conversation with kc. many accusations were made about all three of us, more specifically, about me to kc by abby because the two of them had been discussing that they’d both been softblocked by me recently.

the list of accusations we were told of is as follows:

me, cat, and eris have a “burn book” where we “blacklist people.” it’s important to note that every time this discourse resurfaces (this is now the fourth time), the “burn book” has fundamentally changed in its composition—it has changed from a discord server “burn book”, to a google doc “burn book”, to the current rumor that it was an entire blog that was used as a “burn book.” it is consistently changed to fit whatever narrative is trying to be pushed, and regardless, the rumor itself is entirely untrue and has been addressed multiple times. cat has had a tumblr theme, a collab theme, and a server theme all dedicated to the film mean girls. she simply had a channel that was to share the urls of minors to block for interacting with nsfw works, or people who were anti-dark content—this is something that i have seen in all servers i’ve been in during my time on tumblr, and is not a new concept for many of you either. it’s simply a precaution a lot of servers take to warn writers about potential minors to block, and potential anti-dark content harassers. the name of this channel happened to be “the burn book” because it was a mean girls themed server, so the name just fit. nowhere in this channel were other writers in the community “blacklisted” or spoken negatively of, and here are the screenshots of the channel. this was simply something abby had twisted in order to paint us negatively. here is the link to cat’s post addressing it for proof and explanation (i run out of pictures or i would include them myself.)

abby also claimed that i was using this channel to talk poorly about kc and a handful of other moots. this is also false bc this server had several strangers (as it was cat’s server and i didn’t know all her moots), but it also had several of kc’s mutuals/friends in this server as well. i’m not so dense as to talk poorly about other writers publicly in a server, let alone a server i know has people who are friends with kc

now, this next part, emmie has conveniently painted out to be about me, as i apparently harassed and blacklisted people for liking itto from genshin impact, but i have been playing genshin for over a year on this app, and quite a large number of you are my own followers who see my rambles and my writing and i don’t have to explain that i have never written for itto, nor explicitly expressed an interest in him apart from perhaps one or two posts from back when i did his story quest. i never had, and still to this day, have no interest in the character itto. i’ve skipped his banner, i plan to skip his upcoming banners should they come, and i have never written for him, nor do i plan to write for him. this issue with itto is between eris and another individual, and i do not have the details to this, as i was new friends with eris at the time, and i’m no longer friends with eris as of current time. quite frankly, even if i knew the details, i wouldn’t go out of my way to share them because it has nothing to do with me. plain and simple.

as you can see, there were a number of rumors spread here to kc by abby, and as you can see, all of which led me to seem quite vicious in character. i’ve provided, to the best of my ability, screenshots and receipts of why each of these is quite drastically out of context and far from true to what abby has claimed. 

i did in fact, after these events confront abby because i was genuinely appalled by the way she knowingly and purposely twisted things conveniently to villainize me. she expressed that she was upset and paranoid by the subposts that she figured were about her once i’d soft blocked her, so i apologized for the posts. she had conversations with both me and cat about the rumors she’d started, and she also apologized for them to both me and cat.

the rumors that emmie has claimed about me in her post, which she conveniently provided no evidence of, are all rumors that are more or less a result of my differences with abby and kc. unfortunately, despite cat trying her best to explain to kc the falseness of most of these rumors, she didn’t really believe them—which is her business. to each their own. i’m sure if i had been in kc’s shoes and in one night, someone i had considered a friend had been painted to do a series of nasty things behind my back, i also would not know what’s true and untrue, and she is entitled to piecing together what she believes is her truth. what’s not fair, however, is for emmie to have no involvement/understanding of these events apart from a twisted narrative she heard from one person and dog pile them into her claims of my behavior to further paint me as a villain. emmie is more than entitled to have her beliefs on my character based on her own experiences, which she has provided her own evidence of, but simply slapping an “and i heard she also….” does not necessarily make claims true, and is very manipulatively thrown into the post to add a list of things that make my character questionable to further validate her point. 

not only this, but she has made a point to openly admit that she and her friends have collectively mocked me for my relationship with my ex-boyfriend, who they have apparently labeled as my “fake” boyfriend that i used to get attention on this app. quite plainly, i get enough attention on my blog that i don’t need a fake boyfriend to amp that up. but furthermore, i am a south asian, muslim individual. my parents are immigrants with very strict religious and cultural beliefs that i feel are very restricting at times, and though i love my family, i struggle with my identity quite a bit as i live in a very western culture that clashes quite a bit with my cultural norms. i do not get to freely explore my sexuality or even romantic life in general, unlike some of you. my parents have been kept in the dark about my relationship because them knowing about it is something that could quite literally create a rift between us, and i find it very insulting and almost suspicious that a white girl is making a mockery of my cultural struggles and my personal life. many of you are either desi or muslim or simply children of strict immigrant parents with quite stubborn traditional views. i’m sure plenty of you understand where i’m coming from when i say that i have to keep my relationship hidden from the majority of the people around me. tumblr is the one place i can anonymously share bits and pieces of my life without worrying about if it will literally cost me my relationship with my parents, so sometimes i may have overshared silly or pointless things, but that is because it’s my own way of being able to express myself and my relationship the way i have always wanted to. apart from that, dragging and making a joke out of someone’s personal life is quite unnecessary in this case. the issue is about tumblr discourse, and i find it very hypocritical that i am being labeled a bully when people, more specifically a white and privileged individual, is plain and simple mocking and poking fun at my personal life and situation that i have no control of. that is my piece on that. whether some of you believe i had a partner or not is not my business, nor do i have to go out of my way to show you evidence of my personal life. what i will say, however, is that there are a handful of close friends i have on this app who are involved in my personal life and have seen evidence of my love life through pictures and private stories on social media. quite frankly, these are the only individuals who i have to justify the validity of my personal life to, and it’s honestly quite violating for someone to stoop to dragging someone’s outside life into issues about tumblr. i extend a very genuine fuck you to every single one of you that have ridiculed my personal relationship and just know that you are extremely bold to consider yourselves above bullying when this is the type of behavior you admit to engaging in. individuals with complex familial relationships, and identity struggles between cultural norms, their ethnicities, and the western world are not your playground to make a joke out of. some of us have very real struggles, such as not being able to pursue careers in favor of arranged marriages, not being able to pursue actual relationships that mean something to us due to a lack of familial approval, being forced to bear children at young ages due to familial pressure, and so on. they are not laughing matters, and are a part of my reality. and before some of you get started—yes, it really is that serious. i have struggled my entire life with having white girls poke fun and tease at my cultural norms, and i refuse to allow another white and privileged individual who already has a record of racially related discourse walk away with once more poking fun at my personal struggles and not be called out for it. i hope you had a good, long, satisfying laugh emmie.

onto my next points based on claims @/anantaru has made about me. the main thing i’d like to really point out here is that anantaru and i have never, not even once, interacted to the extent of my knowledge. they claim that cat and i cannot stand it when people cross us in numbers and that we go through people’s likes in order to find minors and blank blogs to explain all the notes. a) i am very bad at checking for minors and blanks in my own notes, so this is not even a logical approach on my end, but b) this claim is made because cat made this post under the tags of a post going around last year that asked to hear unpopular ficblr opinions.

what cat means to articulate here is that sometimes, when she is scrolling on dash and interacting with moots and their shit/talk-posts, she peeks at profiles she sees in the notes and has happened to catch minors lurking. cat, firstly, has never followed anantaru, so they are not a “victim” to cat glancing at their likes, but secondly, this is not nearly as psychotic as it’s painted out to be. cat is not, and was not, jealous of other blog's notes. quite plainly, she’s not exactly a tiny blog either, and she’s only stumbled upon minors in the talks-posts of moots, including me. shit-posts/talks-posts are easy to notice minors lurking on, and while most people recognize that it’s quite impossible to catch every minor and ageless blog in writing posts with numerous notes, a simple shit-post on dash is more simple, and her unpopular opinion was simply that blogs that grow rapidly need to be better about catching those minors because they are susceptible to having more of them lurking. it’s a really harmless sentiment, and she’s gently reminded me as well on more than one occasion to be more responsible about my habit of being lazy when scouting for minors in my interactions. 

this is not out of jealousy, nor is it some sick and twisted habit she has to “explain” why people get more notes than she might get. it’s also out of a place of concern for her own content ?? i myself and plenty of other large blogs reblog from mutuals, and they are well within their right to be concerned that perhaps minors are lurking on our pages and interacting with works we reblog from our mutuals. cat has voiced this concern to me before, also out of goodwill and simple concern for my content, her content, and minors in general. there is simply no need to twist it into her viciously looking down upon large blogs and their notes counts and claiming they’re “only because they don’t block minors.” admittedly, though, i do need to be better about catching minors, and i have always appreciated her trying to keep me in the habit of being responsible about it. more importantly, it was a small passing comment under a post of unpopular opinions, a lot of them were hot takes, and this is hardly a serious one to get so heated over. 

i’d also like to point out that anantaru has claimed we blocked them for being a gatekeeper and because we’re jealous of their notes. 💀. a) i am very grateful and very happy with the level of interaction i get on my writing, as more people than i imagine leave me countless comments and reblogs. i have never had an issue with comparing my interaction with that of other writers because i have always been abundantly content with the interaction i get. i have no other comment on this other than cat and i blocked anantaru at the same time because we happened to see a post of theirs reblogged onto our dash that made a joke that we felt was a bit insensitive to/alluded to SA—i’m sure it wasn’t meant to be taken that way, but it made us uncomfortable regardless. while we are both dark content supporters, and i myself have read more than one fic that includes noncon in particular, it doesn’t mean we have to like/enjoy everything related to it and we simply decided to block them. i’m not going to bring this post up bc it’s simply not important. they are an adult who is more than entitled to make jokes on their blog and cat and i do not have to like them !! we simply did what we were well within our rights to do, and that’s blocking them.

there’s more they go on to say about receiving hate asks and that apparently it’s because of our “group of friends.” cat and i don’t have a group of friends. i don’t have any group chats with her besides the one with her boyfriend because i get along with him sometimes as well, and we used to play genshin together a lot when i was in low ar. not that i have to explain my friendships here, but i quite literally do not have a group of people to “send after” anantaru because people are well aware of my close friends, who i text with my personal phone number. i’ve posted silly screenshots of convos on my blog multiple times, and none of these friends overlap because i do not have a “group” of friends, just individual friends who i talk to one on one. cat is not friends with my other friends, and my other friends are not friends with her. there are no inner circles that conspire together to send anyone hate because i “tell them to.” and if there are screenshots of me explicitly encouraging someone to send hate on anon, i would love to see it. if i had sent my anons after anantaru, it would have to be a public post, and i’m sure if there were a post of such nature, it would have been brought to light by now. they have also claimed they were given multiple urls of mine to block. i only have ONE writing blog, @/saetoru, and the only other two that are still up are archived blogs @/hanmine and @/katsuphilia, which are side blogs attached to saetoru and have been inactive for several months. there are however, multiple individuals on this app who also go by the name “tee,” and perhaps we have unfortunately been mixed up as the same person, but the only blog i have is saetoru, so there is no other active blog they have blocked me from that belonged to me and was able to harass them.

not only that, but anantaru has claimed that one person off anon sent them hate with a kaeya url which they insinuate to be me. once again, you are all more than aware of my history of urls, and many of you have all been here to see them. i’ve never once had a kaeya url, nor have i ever been particularly interested in kaeya outside of a small number of posts on a rare occasion. my genshin favorites have always been characters from sumeru and, at one point diluc, and once again i don’t have to ?? explain my selfships to you all ?? but literally, i have nothing to do with a kaeya blog or kaeya account, and im unsure why it’s being thrown into my name. quite frankly, i’m not sure  what their moot has told them we have said about them, but the only conversations cat and i have ever had about anantaru was that one about the noncon joke, and that’s it. outside of that, there is literally no evidence of us speaking about this person because it simply doesn’t exist. 

i implore you all to, instead of starting public discourse over things you hear, confirm them first. had anantaru reached out to me or cat and expressed that they are upset that we are supposedly spreading false rumors about them gatekeeping, then whatever misunderstanding it might have been could have been cleared. i would like to also point out that it is not above bullying when you simply dump numerous accusations that you have heard through half whispers from moots and provide 0 evidence for them. i am perfectly aware of why emmie may consider herself to have issues with me, but i have never had an encounter with anantaru, and truthfully, i’ve never actually even read their writing before. my main (and pretty much only) experience with them is seeing the joke i saw reblogged onto my dash, and as i stated earlier, the only thing i did for that was block and move one.

and lastly, the other point i’d like to make is that numerous blogs who i have been objectively very kind to have come out to take the opportunity to stomp on my character and reputation. for example, tumblr user @/osaemu, who used to follow me and interact with me quite often. i have always been excited to interact with her because she was really supportive of my gojo writing, and at one point, i had a small area of concern with her using the same exact title as me for a gojo fic. below are screenshots of our conversation regarding the titles.

i am quite confident that this is a very polite interaction, and i was very clear that i didn’t think that her writing elements, including gojo’s parent dynamics and his dynamics with the reader, were copied or even something that i felt she needed to change. i pointed them out as a way of indicating that between these parallels and between the fact that i know she reads my rb! gojo series, i find it difficult to believe that our fic titles being exactly the same is a coincidence, and it made me uncomfortable—my concern was not how she wrote gojo’s parents or his dynamic with reader. i never accused her of stealing ideas that were mine alone to use, all i simply wanted to do was shed light on the fact that based on these parallels, i figured the names being the same was a touch difficult for me to brush aside as a chance similarity. i was very clear to outline that i know these dynamics and themes in writing are generic, and that people can pull inspo from them because i have done the same thing. my only concern was the title, which i politely asked her to change, and she agreed. case closed. i have been, again objectively, quite kind to osaemu, and i had no intentions of blocking her like a moot had suggested because i felt it was a very silly issue to block over since she was very lovely to me. 

i did, however, block her because she posted one-paragraph posts with multiple characters tagged. that’s not a crime on her end, and i’m certainly not here to police her posts in the tags, but as me and plenty of other people on this app have voiced multiple times, it is a bit irritating and feels like spam to see posts of these kinds in the tags so i blocked her. this is a very popular opinion and i refuse to be considered problematic for it. i am not here to police what constitutes an appropriate post to tag x reader tags on, and while i have made posts simply sharing my opinion on what i feel should and should not be tagged, osaemu is more than welcome to post whatever she feels she would like to into the tags. i do, however, block anyone who i come across who makes those kinds of posts because i simply don’t like them, and i don’t like seeing them. i don’t owe an explanation for why i block anyone, but seeing as i have been painted as some bitch for doing so, here is my reasoning. quite a lot of people agree on this sentiment, and to each their own, but i don’t enjoy seeing those posts. i did also unblock her at one point, as she mentioned. this is simply because a mutual of mine had voiced that they felt someone had copied the concept of their drabble, and i was helping them word a message to send, so i went back to this exact conversation to look back on what i said because it was a similar situation. as you know, blocking someone hides their dms from your dm list, so i had intended to temporarily unblock her just to see how i worded my message to help formulate a message for a mutual. there were no screenshots sent, i simply wanted to jog my memory of my points, that’s all. i did forget to block her again for a bit but eventually did, and that’s the extent of our interactions. i don’t recall posts telling people that i condone sending anons with death threats like she has claimed, and if she could point out the particular posts i have made where i encourage people to send anon death threats on my behalf, i would be more than happy to clear them up, or address them. 

i have admittedly, on a few occasions said in my responses to anon hate itself, the phrase “kys” out of frustration, and there are i’m sure conflicting opinions on that, but i do not regularly use this phrase in my vocabulary. i have been on the receiving end of graphic sexual and violent asks in my inbox regarding me, my teenage sister, and my mother, during my time on here, and sometimes out of frustration i have said less than dignified things, but this is not a constant behavior, and frankly, i think once people make graphic, violent, and inappropriate comments about my 16 year old sister, saying “kys” in response is not the greater of the two evils. it is a tad bit hypocritical to expect benevolence from me to an anonymous hate ask just because there is “another person” at the end of the screen when they have not extended the same sentiment to me.  

all of that being said, jumping on the trend to trample on someone while you have the opportunity to because you’re bitter they blocked you is also no better than bullying. apart from blocking osaemu, I have taken careful steps to always be respectful to her due to the very kind comments she’s left on my writing. leaving nice comments on my writing is deeply appreciated and welcome, but that doesn’t mean i have to subject myself to seeing posts i do not want to see on my dash on my phone. i pay for the phone bill, so i will cater my phone to show me what i want to see, and if that includes blocking a few people, i am allowed to do that !! i should not have to apologize for or be crucified for blocking someone and their feelings being hurt over it. 

not only this, but several of you have somehow started a rumor that i am 26 or even pushing 30. that’s nowhere close to the truth. i’m 21, soon to be 22, and i have stated multiple times i am an undergraduate college student. of course, there is no timeline to college, and people of all ages complete their undergrad degrees, but i have made it a point to vent about my concerns numerous times that i am very stressed about taking extra classes every semester to compensate for changing my major late because i want to graduate on time. my graduation year is 2024 (as would make sense seeing as i will be 22 years old), and if you don’t believe me, i have celebrated my bday on april 12th of every year this blog has been active. you’re more than welcome to check my archive to see if that’s true, and for further reference, here is a picture i have sent to mods of servers i am in to be accepted. (note that my url used to be hanmas before saetoru.)

although there is no shame in being 26 or pushing 30, the reason why i wanted to address this is that i wanted to point out that yet another rumor has been fiercely pushed on my name and has been believed to be the truth. no one has to walk away from reading this post assuming that i’m a saint and i have never done anything wrong or that i have been faultless in differences i’ve had with other people. but a lot, if not all, of these claims are exaggerated with 0 evidence, and people have just run with claiming them as true. i physically cannot deny a large majority of these rumors with evidence or screenshots because half of them are made by people i have never interacted with or talked to, and i cannot produce evidence for interactions that never happened. i have seen blank, burner blogs post stories of their experiences with me, one in particular that claims i dm’d them to tell them their hanma fic was breathtaking before i harassed them about their theme, boyfriend, and parents. a) i do not dm anyone to compliment their fics because i am simply too shy to do that. i would have only reblogged the fic with comments if i enjoyed it. b) again, there is no evidence on their part, and i cannot dispel this story with evidence of my own because evidence of conversations that never took place does not exist. and c) i would like to think i do not come across as dense enough to attack someone in their dm’s viciously about their boyfriend and parents openly with my account, where they could easily spread the proof around if it had actually happened. i am not responsible for people’s internet literacy, and if people believe every story that is shared with not even a small piece of proof that it took place, i cannot do anything besides simply urge you all to formulate your opinions based on what you see, not based on what you hear. 

i would also like to end things off with an apology to all of you—mainly because there was no reason for so many of you to be dragged into something that did not involve you and also because there are very disturbing and important issues going on right now in real-time in the world that are affecting a lot of people. i never want to be involved in something that takes attention off of important discussions such as genocide, and while many of you like to claim i am deflecting, i think it is quite telling that some people have posted nothing about something this important but have made multiple posts regarding discourse. i did not feel it was appropriate at that time to focus on discourse, and i still do not think so, but i wanted to leave off with my own statement.

i would also like to apologize if i have ever come across as unkind during an experience with me; it is never my intention to be that way purposely. i have a habit of being petty sometimes and can be a bit short-tempered, and it’s something i work on. with as large of a following as i have, sometimes it’s better not to say anything at all than say it—however vaguely it might be. i hope some of you who also have larger followings keep that in mind so that you can avoid discourse erupting into something grand scale. please vent to people you trust and be wary of having a habit to subpost. but mainly, please remember that people trusting you with their feelings and troubles is not something you should take pride in spreading. there is nothing to be proud of about sharing people's private socials, urls, and conversations. while i am not always able to keep my temper under wraps, and while i have had my fair share of petty moments, i, to the best of my ability, have always made sure that i don’t come across as intentionally cruel or mean, nor have i purposely broken someone’s trust. sometimes i have retaliated back a bit fiercely, but i stand by the fact that i never purposely chased or drove anyone off, mocked or belittled them, or sent people over to dislike/hate them. i have at times vented to those who i believe are people i can trust, sure—but this is something we as people are all guilty of. there’s no way any of us can hold one person more accountable than others for partaking in closeted conversations that are never meant to get back to people and hurt them. 

i genuinely loved, and still love, writing very much, and i have always appreciated every ask, every reblog, and every comment. writing is a hobby i am greatly passionate about, and it’s always a hobby i was very excited to share with people on here because i don’t get to share it with people irl. i don’t willingly tell people irl that i enjoy making elaborate plots about anime characters, and i have always been very excited to share that hobby with you all, whether you are a reader or writer. i’ve read fanfiction for a very long time before i ever decided to try my hand at writing it, and i would never want to knock other people down simply because they “surpassed” me. i enjoy finding writers to read from, especially those who write better than me, because they are where i draw the most inspiration and motivation from. the moots i look up to most are moots who are in my opinion, far stronger writers than me, and moots who i always firmly believe deserve much more reach than i do on their stories because they’re far more fleshed out and in-depth than anything i can produce. and i am proud of them !! and even those of you who feel you are stuck not getting as much reach as you would hope, i am proud also of all of you for picking up a google doc or pen and writing and trying, whether you choose to share it or not. i will always strongly encourage you all to try your hand at writing if you have ever considered it because i have genuinely built such a better sense of self-esteem when being able to incorporate pieces of myself in my stories and express parts of who i am—i think some of you might really enjoy the catharsis that writing brings, and if you ever debate on trying it out, please do !! you might become really passionate about it. 

anyway, this post is abysmally long. none of it is to clear my name in hopes that i will be “un-canceled” (LOL) because i have decided saetoru is long overdue to be put to rest. i hope you can all, at the very least, allow other writers some peace and stop harassing them in their inboxes for knowing me (because that is also bullying and very ironic of you), and i hope you all got some sort of understanding of where i am coming from. if you think poorly of me, that’s okay. i have an opinion of myself, and the close people who surround me, that i am confident in, and while i may not have always handled things in the brightest of manners, i am well aware of what my intentions have always been. 

i’m deeply grateful to all 41k of you, and thank you for reading my works and allowing me to write for you !! thank you for all the very, very kind asks that i never got a chance to fully answer each one of, and thank you especially for all the supportive comments and love on the writing i’ve posted. they might be silly fics you read once and moved on from, but they’re all pieces of me, my life, and things that are important to me, and as cringe and cheesy as it sounds, it means quite literally everything to me when people read them and take away something from them. 

also, as a parting gift, i will be posting the nerd gojo, ex-convict geto, and a marriage rb! gojo fic to my ao3 (also saetoru) for those of you who have been patiently awaiting those wips to enjoy. please (a little more patiently) keep your eyes peeled for those <3 i will no longer be posting or active on saetoru, and in the event that i keep writing, it will be posted on my ao3, so you all will know where to find me !!

so for the last time, i love you my little runts !! wishing you all the best, and goodbye to my lil saetoru bestees. 

mwah !!

— tee <3

ps. i also have turned off reblogs for this post and limited replies to people i follow only. a lot of you will jump to say that it’s simply because i am “hiding,” but it is solely because i have said my piece and i intend to move on. thank you and have a lovely day shawtee ✌🏽

[hawnks]

You’re promptly banished from the Gojo Clan property, as is all of your ilk.

No one tells you why, and you have no clue yourself. You grow up hating the Gojos for putting you and your family through that. So when you start working at Jujutsu Technical High as a media arts teacher, your main goal is to stay as far from Satoru Gojo as possible.

Logically, you know he had little to do with whatever happened back then, but you have a vendetta and you’ve heard the whispers of what he’s like. Insufferable, and insufferably beautiful. Powerful, wealthy, loud. You hate him on principle.

You’re less than pleased when he shows up on the first day of your training, boisterously announcing himself to be your new sempai.

He makes it about two steps into the office before stopping abruptly, glasses slipping down his nose so you catch the barest sliver of his eyes, tracking you. He takes a long, deep breath. Let’s it go.

“It is you,” he murmurs. He’s grinning.

As a beta, you’re not very familiar with the idiosyncrasies of the other traits. But you know lust when you see it.

“Gojo, are you—“ you slip further behind the desk, putting space between you. You’re unsettled, but trying not to let it show. Especially not to him. You scoff. “Did you just go into rut?”

He stalks further into the room, up to the desk. He puts his hands flat on the tabletop, which brings his face scant inches from yours. He inhales. Scenting you.

His eyes roll back in his head, a bare second of euphoria before he catches himself. His smile is all teeth, when he peers at you. “Actually, it’s a heat,” he tells you. His fingers rap against the table. Impatient. Hungry. “Mind helping a guy out with that?”

You look at him, take in the size of him, the defined musculature. He’s not like any omega you’ve ever seen.

Your incredulity must show on your face because he chuckles.

His fingers stop tapping, instead pressing into the wood so hard his knuckles go white. “You don’t have to take my word for it,” he says. He licks his lips. “Why don’t you…check.”

[rbbrbikerthorp]

A New Neighbour Moves In

[Please note: all characters are 18 plus and any reference to boy or girl is purely descriptive or used in dialogue between the characters.]

Mitchell was living the life much like any typical 23 year old male would. He’d graduated university, he had started his career in recruitment for legal and financial services and was starting to earn good monthly commissions on top of his basic salary. He’d used all the money inherited from his grandparents to buy a 1-bedroom flat in a new development, just on the edge of the city centre. Mitchell didn’t have a steady girlfriend – he wasn’t in a long-term relationship place. As he told his mates at the gym, he was a ‘date them and ditch them’ once he’d managed to ‘get them in the sack’ kind of bloke.

It was a Monday morning and Mitchell needed to get to work. First, he had to navigate his way carefully out of the flat where he’d been invited to spend the night. The girl he’d met in the club the previous evening had taken a shine to his blue eyes, rugby toned body and wavy blonde hair. “Another notch on the bedpost,” Mitchell thought as he tiptoed his way out of the girl’s bedroom. Mitchell made it a policy to only meet women in person and he would never exchange contact details. It meant that none of his ‘conquests’ had any idea of how to find him and, as he was enjoying his ‘tom cat’ life so much, he sure didn’t want to be found. He went on his Uber app and requested a taxi. In less than two minutes one had pulled up in front of him. He took one last look up at the window to check the curtains were still closed and the car pulled away from the curb.

He arrived back at his flat in plenty of time to get ready for the day ahead. He shaved his weekend beard growth and then turned on the shower. Whilst the water warmed up, he took a moment to admire himself in the mirror. He loved how beefy his legs looked from the years of playing rugby first in secondary school and then in the university’s first team. His regular attendance at the gym meant he had a well-defined chest and arms. Women loved his bum as it stood out, firm and muscular. Yes, at that moment as he entered the shower cubicle Mitchell was very content with his life, but on this day, things were about to change.

As Mitchell locked his front door, he noticed piles of boxes outside the flat next door. As he turned towards the lifts, he ran into a large man. He barely stopped as he fell into him. Stepping backwards he said, “I’m really sorry, I didn’t see you there.” As the guy regained his balance, Mitchell noticed the man’s shaved head, jeans with bleach marks with tall black boots with white laces tucked into them. Even though he thought of himself as a tough, well-built guy, he stuttered feeling inadequate and intimidated by this stranger. “I…I…I’m Mitchell,” holding out his hand, “n... n… nice to meet you. So, you’re moving in next door? I… I… always wondered who my new neighbour would be? It’s been vacant for ages.

The man smiled, “I’m John and yes, it was quite a steal really. Apparently last owner had been shacked up with his fiancé for the last few months and they were about to get married. I made an offer a bit less than what they were asking for, but, because he needed to put money down as a deposit on a new house, he had no choice but to accept.”

“Well,” Mitchell replied being polite, “I… I… I’ve got to get my bus.”

“Yes, I can see you’re dressed for an office. As you can probably see I’m not a suit person myself.”

Mitchell laughed nervously. Why was he feeling so unsettled by this guy?

“Look, why don’t you drop by when you get home from work. I always like to get to know my new neighbours.”

On the spur of the moment, Mitchell couldn’t think of an excuse not to accept the invitation, so he said, “why not? Must go!” As he walked away, he could sense the man was staring at him. He shouted, “good luck unpacking” and then lowered his voice a little, “weirdo.”

John couldn’t help admiring his good-looking young neighbour’s physique, and he shook his head hearing Mitchell mumbling that last word. He began to create a mental picture of what Mitchell might look like wearing less formal clothing. Tattoos were common on young men of a similar age these days, so John wondered if he had acquired any ink yet. He was sure to find out later when Mitchell would drop in for a chat and John would explain was his lifestyle was all about. John set about unpacking so that he could prepare for his young neighbour’s visit.

It was around 7:30 in the evening when John heard a knock on the door. He opened it to find Mitchell had changed out of his work suit into a t-shirt and sports shorts. “Come in.” It felt more like an order to Mitchell than a pleasantry.

“You got everything unpacked I see.” Mitchell said trying not to stare at the many pairs of tall lace-up boots all lined up by the door; taking in the various bomber jackets hanging on the coat rack and the skinhead themed pictures and posters on the walls.

John noticed Mitchell’s “That’s nothing lad, I’ve got way more kit in the bedroom.”

Mitchell really didn’t want to know any more about what might be in John’s bedroom, “takes all kinds I guess,” he thought as John handed him a beer. The two men chatted, but as Mitchell sipped away at the beer, “wow”, he thought, “this stuff has a real kick.” He found himself becoming more relaxed and more willing give direct answers to John’s questions; about his job, his personal life, his family and friends. Mitchell was hoping that by dressing as though he was going to the gym and John would bring their chat to an end and let him go on his way. Mitchell was starting to fidget as you do when you’re about to stand up. However, John had different ideas, “stay right there lad, and I’ll get us another beer.” Mitchell suddenly found himself wanting to stay and slumped back into the sofa.

“So wh… wh… what do you for a living?” Mitchell asked with a slight stutter and slur as John handed him another glass of beer.

John smiled, “I’m glad you asked. To put it simply I change people.”

“Change people?” Mitchell asked thoroughly bemused.

“Yes, I change people. I take ordinary people, with very traditional upbringings and boring lives and I change them into whatever takes my fancy.” You, young Mitchell are just the sort of person I look for to mould into something more, hmm, you know ‘out-there’.”

Mitchell had downed half the glass of beer at this point.

John continued, “maybe I’ll slowly take them from the lives they are currently leading and over a few hours, a few days, maybe a few weeks transform them. They might end up as a…”

John could sense Mitchell’s fear about what might happen to him but continued, “The next person I change may end up as filthy mohawked punk, a dirty greaser biker, a Leatherman, a goth, a rubber slave. Who knows? It’s whatever takes my fancy at that moment. After a time, I get bored and need a new challenge, so I sell them on to people into the lifestyle and I move on to my next…”

Mitchell couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He opened his mouth to challenge what John was saying but he discovered it wouldn’t move. His heart was pounding, his anxiety levels were on the rise – no matter how hard he tried he was unable to form any words.

“Mitchell, I want you to calm down! Mitchell is such as pompous name, so from now on you’re gonna be called Mike. Now, I will carry on. John pulled out an amber charm which he swung from side to side, glowing eerily in front of Mike’ glazed eyes. When I combine this fine-looking stone with a special ingredient I have – oh you know I added a few drops into your beer, my victims become more… open to the changes I want to make to them. More compliant.” Mike’ eyes were affixed on the stone. “That’s right, just follow the stone, from side-to-side, follow the stone, transfixed by its glowing beauty/” John was comfortable in the knowledge that Mike would soon be his personal boy toy. “Isn’t that the most striking, bright and coloured stone you’ve ever seen Mike?”

He tried to open his mouth in one solitary second of defiance, but all he could managed was a barely audible squeak. His independence, his free will, his ability to fight and think freely had departed. There was no resistance left in Mike. His mind was now mush, the lad could only obey and conform.

John pulled Mike to his feet and dragged him to the bathroom. Once there, he placed him in a chair. “Right Mike, I’ve been thinking all-day about the life I want to give you. How do you fancy being my skinhead son? I’ve always wanted someone I could call a son, but being gay it was never going to happen, and I think you will make the perfect skinhead.” John didn’t wait for Mike to reply - he couldn’t; he did however see the confusion and distress in Mike’ eyes. He chuckled to himself.

John walked over to the bathroom cabinet and took out several items: some electric clippers, scissors, a pack of Mach 3 razors and a can of shaving cream. Turning his head to look at the boy, he smiled, “Only real men have hair. So, yours needs to go Mike. I’ll start on your legs and then your chest, all of that lovely blonde hair on your head and not forgetting the parts in-between. I’m going to enjoy getting rid of that wavy blonde hair. When I’m done, you’ll have a perfectly smooth bonehead.” John cut through the lad’s t-shirt revealing a well-defined torso. Staring at the blank canvas and thinking what he would do to it, he couldn’t help but squeeze one of Mike’ nipples. John detected the tiniest of yelps, so he squeezed the other nipple. There was no reaction this time, Mike’ mind was lost. He continued to stare into the  amber jewel that was hanging in front of his face.

John turned on the clippers, starting with the boy’s left leg. Hair started falling in clumps on the floor. Once the left leg was done, he moved on to the right one. Soon John was wiping them down with a cloth, applying a astringent lotion so that the smooth skin shone in the bathroom lights and after a few more applications, regrowth would never be a problem. Then it was onto the chest. Although Mike was only in his early twenties, he’d already got quite a covering of fur, which John’s clippers made quick work of. Mike’s arms were also denuded of hair. John turned off the clippers and, with the same cloth, applied more of the special lotion to the recently clipped areas.

John stood up and smiled. He paused for a second, “this is the last time there will be any hair growing on your head.” He pressed the on switch, and after hearing the familiar ‘clack’ he began ploughing all the way through the boy’s golden locks. In no time at all Mike was motionless sitting in the chair with a zero-grade cut. John picked up the can of shaving cream, squirted it into his hands and rubbed it copiously all over Mike’ head. He took the necessary time to ensure all the fuzz was removed and Mike’ head felt like a cue-ball. In no time at all there was a shiny hairless skinhead son sitting in front of him.

Looking down, John smiled as Mike’ identity lay on the floor in clumps. He looked up at Mike who was sitting perfectly still, with the same glazed eyes and dazed expression on his face, oblivious to the changes being made without his consent. He took the cloth, poured some more lotion into it and rubbed it into his son’s head.

“Stand,” John ordered. Mike complied, happily obeying his skinhead master. The sports shorts were pulled down over the now smooth legs and John stood back as he grabbed the clippers. “Now boy, I need you to get nice ‘n’ hard so I can make sure I get all your hair… down there...” He watched as slowly but surely there was movement in Mike’ groin. John grinned as in no time at all full mast was achieved. “Very nice boy,” John said out loud, “I bet you were popular with the women. Is that six, possibly seven inches? Good and think as well. Unfortunately for you, you’re not going to have much use of it as my son, but it will look amazing with a thick gauge PA, and a Jacob’s ladder.”

‘Clack’, John turned on the clippers and began the removal of the last remaining hairs on Mike’ body. He had to hold himself back as he rubbed the special lotion into the skin around the groin and on the mounds that had once been covered in thick hair. When he was satisfied the boy was as smooth as the day he was born, John left the bathroom to get something from his bedroom. When he returned Mike hadn’t moved, he was still lost in the stone “Now here I have the perfect thing to complete you. Now stay perfectly still.”

Later, John walked into the main room of the flat dressed in full skinhead gear. As he gazed at his newly denuded skinhead son, he felt his manhood straining inside a pair of skin-tight bleachers, which were turned-up and touching the top of a pair of 30-hole red ranger style boots. He was looking lustfully at the 23-year-old standing to attention, still wearing the expression, he had when the amber jewel turned him into the compliant vessel he now was. “It’s time for the next stage in your transformation lad.” With that John walked over to a cupboard an opened the doors.

The cupboard contained piles of skinhead gear from boots to bleachers to braces to bomber jackets. First, he instructed Mike to put on a yellow jockstrap. “You’ll be wearing this non-stop for a few days – it needs to get in nice ‘n’ ripe.” Then he passed the boy a t-shirt, which Mike willingly slipped over his head. “These are your bleachers; they’ve got two zips – front and rear – you’ll soon find out why,” he grinned, “slip them on.” Mike pulled up the tight-fitting jeans that had been liberally splashed with bleach. Mike didn’t take any notice of the fact that they’d been cut off just below the knee and turned up so that they would show the full extent of the boots he would almost always be wearing when he wasn’t in his work gear. John walked across to Mike carrying a pair of red braces which he attached to the bleachers, pulling them right up his bum crack – so much so that Mike let out a little groan. To finish this stage of the transformation, John handed Mike the left boot. It was black with 20 eyelets and partly laced. John talked Mike through how to ladder lace the boot tightly and perfectly. John fitted a padlock at the very top of the boot before handing over the right one. When John was happy with the way that one was laced, he fitted another padlock. “Stand!” Mike stood up. “Turn to look in the mirror, see the Skinhead son I’ve created. This is what you are now a proud skinhead and my skinhead son.

“Now, we can begin your training. Kneel!” Mike complied. “I know your tongue will still be a bit tender, so I’ll be gentle. Open!” John commanded, and with that he slid his cock into Mike’ open mouth. “Move your tongue slowly, showing how much your love the bottom of your skinhead dad’s cock. Make sure you keep your lips tightly closed as I don’t want you to spill anything.”

He sat back as his cock was held between Mike’ virgin lips and soon found himself about to cum as the hard stud, he had introduced to the lad’s tongue work its magic. The combination of it all and the sensitivity soon had John unloading his massive load. “Swallow!” Mike swallowed quickly trying not to “spill’ as he had been instructed. John soon slid from the lips of his new son and quickly zipped up his own bleachers. “Yes,” John thought, studying the boy who, in addition to the tongue piercing also had a stud in each lobe and four more studs all the way up each of his ears. Mike would serve him well as his skinhead son, but first he needed to complete the lad’s transformation. “Right son, let’s go – I need you to see a friend of mine.”

With that John grabbed a green bomber jacket with orange lining and threw it to Mike, “put it on,” he instructed. Mike slipped on what he would get to know as an MA1 and followed John out of the flat. Right away he found it strange walking in heavy soled, tightly laced boots, but he didn’t complain – he couldn’t.

The skinhead and son waited a few minutes at the bus stop before one came along heading in the direction of the city centre. They alighted just before the main shopping area. It was an area that would be unfamiliar to Mitchell, but Mike was oblivious to everything now. He obeyed his skinhead dad, just as any good son would do. The two skinheads walked side by side into a small industrial estate. One of the units had a sign saying, ‘Anaconda Tattoo Studio and Piercing’. John walked ahead of Mike, as they got to the door, John walked in but for a second Mike hesitated. John knew this sometimes happened, especially with all the distractions of the outdoors. He pulled the amber stone out of his pocket and held it in front of Mike. “This way boy,” he ordered. Mike complied; his eyes once again completely transfixed on the glow of the jewel.

Once inside the tattoo studio, John turned to Mike, “stand here son. I need to talk to the owner.” Mike waited as instructed. Despite tattoos being made popular by the countless athletes and celebrities who adorned their bodies with intricate permanent markings, the old Mitchell would have never crossed the threshold foot into a tattoo studio. But here was Mike waiting to submit to whatever his skinhead dad was discussing with the owner.

John came out of the back office followed by a hulk of a man who was wearing tight leather trousers, a black vest, which exposed his muscular arms covered in tattoos, shaved head with long unkempt beard and on his feet were heavy biker boots. “Son this is Griff, he’s going to give you some more piercings and your tattoos. But first, you are to strip down to your jockstrap. When you’ve done that, go over there and sit in the chair. From now on you will do exactly what Griff tells you to do. He’s going to give you your first marks to show the world that you’re a proud skinhead. After you’ve got your first ink, he’s going to give you some more metal. I’m going to leave you for a bit, but I’ll be back to see the finished work.” Turning to Griff, John said, “he’s all yours.”

Griff walked over to Mike wearing only his jockstrap  sitting obediently in the chair. Since John had already removed all the boy’s hair, Griff simply wiped clean the areas to be tattooed and then laid the first outline template on the skin. His machine was then started up, some ink was added, and the needle started to buzz.

He then began applying the needle over the site of the first tattoo, Mike felt a dull pain but didn’t flinch. Once the first tattoo on the boy’s left arm was completed, Griff went on to add the other tattoos as instructed by John. He started work on a full sleeve on Mike’s right arm, which would take four or five visits to complete. Then he added a bulldog to the rear of the lad’s right calf. Finally, two swallows were added to the back of the each of the lad’s hands. Griff whispered into Mike’s ear, “that’s all I’m doing now lad. John has booked half a dozen more sessions, so you’ll be coming back to get your neck, back and chest inked, and I can finish off the full sleeve. Now stay still. There’s a couple more things to do. Griff pushed away his tattoo cart and returned with another.

Griff looked at the docile boy in the chair. I think we will start with the nipples. Griff played, stroked and flicked them for a few moments until they were firm. He then slipped a needle through the left nipple, at which point Mike squealed. He then installed a barbell through the hole left by the needle and screwed a ball onto either end. He repeated the process for the right nipple. “No touching lad.” Griff then turned his attention to the lad’s groin and applied a topical cream to the so-called policeman’s helmet (bell-end to others). “Right, we’ll give that a little while to take effect and, in the meantime, we can sort out your nose piercing. This will hurt, but only for a second.” Griff then picked up a clean needle from his trolley and quickly passed it through the front part of the septum. Mike’s eyes began watering, so he knew the boy was feeling the pain from the intrusion of the needle. Carefully he inserted a ring into the boy’s septum, and then said out loud, “That will take six weeks or so to heal, then John wants it swapped for a bigger ring.” Now, the cream should have dulled your senses on your knob so let’s add the final bit of metal you’re getting today. He wiped the area to be pierced with an antiseptic skin cleanser, put a mark where the piercing was to be made, and begin the piercing process. The most painful moment for Mike in the piercing process was when the piercing needle punctured his urethra. One the needle was through, Griff inserted a circular barbell and spoke again, “don’t worry if you feel a bit of discomfort – a dull, throbbing pain that’s to be expected.

At that moment the door opened, and John walked in carrying a large shopping bag. “He’s all done, just as you instructed John. Don’t forget to leave the starter jewellery in for six weeks – no less, and make sure you use the aftercare solution. After that we can do a bit of stretching to your liking.”

As the days turned into weeks. John had started his son on the path to being a smoker. First, he gave him a gum to chew to introduce nicotine into the body, then he encouraged him to vape. When he felt there was an addiction starting, he told the boy to smoke cigarettes, starting him on five a day, and quickly moving onto ten, then fifteen. Within a couple of weeks, he was getting through a pack a day.

Mike also kept up his weekly visits to Griff, as more of his skin was covered with ink. Over the period, the full sleeve was completed, the Union flag was tattooed on the back of Mike’s next, the word skinhead was tattooed in script of his back and the letters that made up the word skinhead were inked on his knuckles and finally a Celtic cross was inked on the left pectoral. On the most recent visit Griff replaced the rings in his septum and PA with heavier gauges. As per John’s instructions, he also replaced the studs in his ears with rings and the ones in the lobes with spreaders. Mike joined his skinhead dad in a new gym, one that was run by an ex-boxer friend of John’s. John made sure to get Mike in the boxing ring so that his pretty boy face could get roughed up a bit. John wanted his son to look a bit freakier.

Mike didn’t look like the sort of person who would work in an office anymore, so he was signed up to work in the city council’s recycling centre – they were always in need of people to sort through other people’s waste. Five days a week he stood by a conveyor belt dressed in dirty Hi-Viz gear, and safety boots separating glass, metal, plastic, paper and cardboard into different bins.

After work, the boy would return to his skinhead dad’s flat, which was much bigger now that the wall had been knocked through joining what was Mitchell’s flat and John’s flat together. This night was special because as soon as he got home, Mike got out of his stinking workie gear he’d be in since just after dawn and into the skinhead gear his dad left out for him. Tonight, skinhead dad would be introducing his skinhead son to the lads in the pub. Mike dressed in his bleachers, a black Fred Perry, yellow socks and red 20-hole boots. Mike was ready in time for his dad to return home. John walked through the door and saw the perfect skinhead son standing there. “C’mon son. You’re gonna meet your skin bruders.”

[weirdkpopgirl]

Friends Who Kiss | Chenle Fic #1

Title: Friends Who Kiss

Genre: Best friends to lovers, high school/college au

Warnings: mentions of the reader being insecure and having a mental breakdown at some point. a little suggestive, but not really

Word Count: ~ 5.6k

Author's Note: Okay to be very honest, I think that this story is kinda stupid and cliché. But it was an idea that I still wanted to try writing. And this is my first full-length fic for Chenle too, so I'm happy to post something for him. So to those who like cheesy romance stories, I hope you enjoy this. Thank you for reading ^ ^

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Since the start of high school, Zhong Chenle has been a consistent part of your life. He arrived as a transfer student from Shanghai, while you were the reserved kid who often used studying as an excuse to avoid social interaction. So rather than you reaching out to him first, it was he who practically claimed you as his best friend. Your personalities were a striking contrast, but it proved to be the perfect balance. It didn't take long for the two of you to become inseparable.

However, your friendship took a turn in eleventh grade. You guys had gone to your house after school to do homework. Except it was mostly you working on assignments, while Chenle was animatedly ranting about some mobile game Jisung was terrible at playing.

“It’s unbelievable! Every time I check his character gets killed,” Chenle laughed, and you responded with a soft hum of acknowledgment.

The boy glanced up from his phone to find you engrossed in your textbooks. While your attention was focused on writing an essay, you were also trying to keep your mind from drifting to the unsettling conversation you had during lunch that day. Typically, you and Chenle sat together with his friends. But Jisung needed the boy’s help stalking his crush, so you found yourself sitting with some of the girls in your class. 

Sensing the inner conflict brewing in your mind, Chenle rose from the bed and leaned over your shoulder. 

“You've been at this since we got here. How is your brain not fried?” he asked, blunt as usual.

You shot the boy with an unappreciative glare. “It is fried. But our essay is due on Monday, and I still have to help you with yours.”

Chenle sighed, well aware of your enduring determination. Ever since he met you, he couldn’t understand why you stressed so much over assignments, especially when you always completed them before the due date. Then you somehow managed to go out of your way to ensure he was doing the same.

“You’re more than halfway finished, and I’ll get to mine on my own time,” He reassured, “Why don’t you take a break for now?”

Before you could protest, Chenle swiftly pulled you out of your chair and guided you to sit on the bed with him. Worry clouded his gaze. “Something’s troubling you, isn’t it?”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip, hating how Chenle knew you so well. He didn’t have a problem sharing what was on his mind, while you were the exact opposite. Yet, even a single look at you was enough for him to detect something was off.

“The girls at lunch were going on about their dating experiences and stuff,” you began to explain, your tone tinged with irritation at the memory. “They were all so surprised when I said I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

You pushed yourself to meet Chenle's gaze, half dreading that he might burst into laughter. Instead, his expression held a hint of amusement, and that alone made you regret bringing up the topic.

Before he could respond, you hurriedly attempted to backtrack on your words. “It's stupid, I know—”

“It’s not stupid if it’s making you upset,” Chenle said firmly.

Leaning back in your seat, you let out an exasperated sigh. “I just can’t get their judgmental looks out of my head. All because I don’t have much experience with dating?”

Chenle's expression softened as he confessed, "There's nothing wrong with that, and there’s a lot of people like you. I haven't had my first kiss either."

“Really?!” You stared at him in disbelief. “Didn't you date Ko Mi-so though?”

Chenle scoffed, appearing slightly offended. “Okay, that happened such a long time ago. And we didn't even last a month, so we never kissed.”

Now that you thought about it, he was right about their relationship ending almost as quickly as it began. You recalled the time back in tenth grade when Chenle was quite smug about dating Mi-so, who happened to be the prettiest girl in class. Frankly, you were somewhat relieved when they broke up, given that she didn't particularly like you. Chenle hasn’t dated anyone since.

“Oh, I guess that makes sense,” your voice trailed off. 

The boy stayed silent for a moment before an idea dawned on him. “You know what? Why don’t we have our first kiss now?”

Your cheeks felt like they were competing for a world record in how quickly they heated up at Chenle's proposal. He couldn't possibly be serious.

“Did I hear you right?” you stammered, thoroughly taken aback by the suggestion.

Chenle nodded confidently, “I mean, we're best friends, so it's not that weird. And it's better than kissing someone we don't know as well or not have a connection with.”

You could kind of see his point. Having Chenle as your first kiss did seem much safer than kissing some random guy. Besides, it wasn’t like either of you had any underlying feelings for each other. This would solely be for practice.

“Alright,” you reluctantly agreed, “But you have to promise not to make fun of me if I turn out to be a bad kisser."

Chenle chuckled and nodded. He inched closer to you on the bed, leaving little space between the two of you. Although he saw you every day, having your face this near made a faint blush tinge his cheeks.

He started to lean in more before pausing. "Um, maybe you should close your eyes."

"Oh—right," you mumbled awkwardly, then took a deep breath before allowing your eyelids to shut.

He had to suppress a chuckle, finding you kinda cute in that moment. Before you had a chance to second-guess yourself, Chenle pressed his lips against yours in a tender kiss. Shortly after, he drew back, searching for your reaction.

“So, how was that?” He asked, voice laced with teasing.

You stared at him incredulously for a moment before realizing he was waiting for you to answer. “I suppose it was okay,” you mumbled.

Chenle tilted his head with an amused grin. “Just okay?”

“Yeah, I guess I didn't feel much because we're not really into each other like that,” you admitted with a nonchalant shrug.

Okay, you might have partially lied about not feeling much during the kiss. Truth be told, there was this strange, fluttery sensation in your chest when your best friend's lips grazed yours. But perhaps all first kisses were like that, and you were simply overthinking it.

The boy beside you let out a hearty laugh. “Well at least we got that over with.”

You had to muster all your self-control not to blush when he followed up with, “And you're not a bad kisser, by the way.”

Believing that the experiment was over, the two of you returned to your previous tasks. Nothing changed much after that day in your bedroom, as you and Chenle remained best friends. But little did you realize that this wouldn't be the last kiss you'd be sharing with him. 

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Despite your previous attempts to justify it, the second kiss you shared with Chenle happened partially because of you. As your senior year of high school unfolded, Chenle prepared for his performance at the spring festival. It was you who initially urged him to participate in the talent show. The countless times you had witnessed his piano playing and singing during your private moments together convinced you that he should share his talents with the world. Your compliments not only fueled Chenle’s ego but also prompted him to eagerly jot his name down on the sign-up sheet.

However, what you didn’t expect was to find him backstage, looking as pale as a ghost. He was supposed to go after a group of girls who were dancing to Red Velvet’s “Red Flavor.” With the intention of cheering him on in person, you spotted the dark-haired boy sitting on a chair, anxiously bouncing his legs.

“Last-minute jitters?" you asked softly.

Chenle glanced up at you and crossed his arms in a nonchalant manner. “What, me? I'm fine,” he replied, though his tone lacked conviction.

Just as Chenle knew you like the back of his hand, you were among the few who could read him. While he was partially correct about never being nervous, it didn't take an idiot to perceive that he was in that moment. It was evident he was trying to play it off to uphold his confident image. 

One aspect that troubled you about Chenle was his constant facade of cheerfulness and carefree demeanor. No one could genuinely be happy all the time, and he was the kind of person who concealed his negative feelings when around others.

After deliberating on how to address the situation, you gently rested your hand on his shoulder, bringing yourself to eye level with him.

“Hey, you’re going to be amazing out there,” you reassured him. “I’ve seen how many hours you put into practicing that song. You have nothing to worry about.”

Chenle let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, you're right.”

The smile he bestowed upon you didn't quite convince you. Biting your lip in hesitation, you glanced around to ensure no one else was nearby. Once you were sure that you were alone, you leaned down and gently planted a kiss on the boy’s forehead. Chenle’s eyes widened in surprise at your actions.

“What was that for?”

Blushing, you took a step back and stammered, “Just for good luck, you know. I—I’ll be right there in the crowd, watching you. So if you feel nervous on stage, just look at me.”

A more reassured smile spread across Chenle’s lips and before he stood up to swiftly peck you on the lips, leaving you more stunned than he was a few seconds ago.

“There, I definitely feel more ready now,” he declared with a teasing glint. And the smug Chenle you were familiar with had returned.

As Chenle’s playfulness lingered in the air, the sound of the audience clapping erupted for the girls, putting an end to your “moment.” With a knowing look, you both parted ways, allowing Chenle to step into the spotlight for his performance.

As he took the stage, you found a spot in the crowd, eyes fixed on him with awe. The rhythm of the applause filled the air, drowning out any lingering thoughts. In that moment, the stage became his world, and you couldn't help but be swept away by the magic of his talent. The earlier exchange faded into the background as you watched Chenle shine, each note and melody weaving a captivating spell that left you in admiration.

Neither of you mentioned the kiss after that day. The interaction remained more platonic than anything, a gesture that was only meant to show your support for him. But Chenle still liked to think he killed the stage because of it.

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Chenle was undeniably responsible for the next time the two of you kissed. However, this particular incident didn't unfold until the first semester of your freshman year in college. The joy of discovering you both had been accepted into the same university was palpable, though Chenle appeared to be more exuberant about the news. In contrast, you felt a sense of relief, grateful that you wouldn't be venturing into the world of college alone.

In one of your classes, a sunbae began to show interest in you. Despite your attempts to politely reject him, it became apparent that he wasn't willing to accept no for an answer. 

One day after class, he cornered you in the hallway, insisting that you go out with him. As you tried to maintain your composure, he grabbed you by the wrist when you tried to walk away. The harsh move triggered internal panic within you.

You could sense the danger in his tone as his head tilted cockily. “Come on, (Y/n), don’t be so difficult. I know you’re just playing hard to get.”

“I—I’m sorry but I just don’t feel the same as you, Sunbae,” you stuttered, trying to be assertive. “Please let go.”

Refusing to relent, the sunbae was on the verge of pulling you in closer when another hand intervened, forcefully ripping you out of his grasp. Your head turned in astonishment to see Chenle casting a disgusted look at the guy in front of you. The flames in Chenle’s eyes made you realize that you had never seen him so livid before.

“She said to let go of her. What part of that do you not understand?” Chenle’s voice cut through the tension.

The sunbae scoffed and crossed his arms in defense, “Yah, who are you to involve yourself in someone else’s matters? Are you her boyfriend or something?”

You watched as the corner of Chenle’s lips turned into a smirk as he snaked an arm around your waist in a protective gesture. 

“That’s right. So who are you to go after another man’s girlfriend?” he retorted confidently. Your eyes widened, almost surprised as the jerk in front of you.

Shaking his head in a mix of disbelief and embarrassment, the sunbae pointed a finger at you. “This is a joke, right? You just asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend to mess with me!”

Before you could respond, Chenle took matters into his own hands. His free hand briskly moved to the back of your neck, drawing you in for a passionate kiss. In a typical situation, your best friend's impulsive actions might have freaked you out immediately. However, the way his fingers delicately pressed against your back reassured you that he was doing this for your sake, Closing your eyes, you kissed back and tried to reciprocate with the same passion Chenle was pouring.

Moments later, Chenle pulled away and turned to the sunbae, wearing a satisfied grin on his face. “Do you believe her now? Not that she has to prove anything to you.”

The older male muttered begrudgingly under his breath, “Whatever, not worth my time.”

With a scowl, he stormed off, leaving behind a palpable sense of relief in the wake of his departure. Once he was gone, you removed yourself from Chenle's hold and shot him a look of confusion.

“You know you didn’t have to do that right?” 

Chenle chuckled, “Well, someone had to put an end to his nonsense. Besides, I've always wanted to play the protective boyfriend card.”

“Protective boyfriend? You almost gave me a heart attack!” You smacked him on the shoulder.

Chenle’s smirk remained, but he adopted a more concerned tone. “But seriously, (Y/n), why didn’t you tell me he was bothering you earlier?”

“I thought I could handle things on my own.” You shrugged weakly, lowering your head in guilt.

Chenle sighed, recognizing your aversion to depending on others for your problems. Throughout the time he’d known you, he'd witnessed your willingness to go to great lengths to help those you cared about. However, when it came to your own struggles, you seemed to prefer suffering in silence.

“We’re best friends for a reason,” he reminded you, “Looking after each other is 50/50, you know?”

You offered him a small smile, “I guess you’re right. Thanks for saving me today.”

“Well, you can thank me by buying food tonight,” Chenle said, the playful glint returning to his eyes. “It’s your turn anyway.”

Rolling your eyes, you let him lead you out of the building. But Chenle’s words from earlier lingered in the back of your mind. “We’re best friends for a reason.” 

The two of you were the epitome of what best friends were. And that was all the two of you would ever be, right?

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At this point, you were beginning to lose count of the number of times you’ve kissed your best friend. Despite this, your friendship maintained its familiar rhythm throughout the university. But after that hallway encounter, the awkwardness that came with kissing your best friend faded. Although it was more of Chenle seeming unfazed, and you becoming less surprised each time it happened. And indeed, there were a few more instances that caused your lips to meet.

Like the time Chenle excitedly dragged you to his dorm to watch a Golden State Warriors game, and, in the heat of the moment, he gave you a quick kiss before cheering some more. Then there was the other time when you both went out for drinks with friends, a few drunken kisses were shared.

There weren't any real feelings attached to the kisses you and Chenle shared. At least, that was what you repeatedly told yourself. However, as you were halfway through your first year of university, you finally started to question the true nature of your friendship with Zhong Chenle.

Those thoughts began to sink in just before your first finals in college. Isolated in your dorm room, you immersed yourself in studying for a math exam scheduled in three days. Calls and texts from friends went largely ignored as you turned off your phone in an attempt to focus. However, Chenle wasn't about to let that slide. 

One night, he let himself into your dorm, carrying a bag of your favorite takeout—knowing well that you tended to skip meals when stressed. You could see the determination in his face, ready to scold you. But the expression quickly transitioned to one of concern when he caught you on the verge of a breakdown. 

You sat at your desk surrounded by textbooks and notebooks filled with scribbled equations. The sight of your trembling body and slightly tousled hair, a result of pulling on it too hard, tugged at Chenle’s heart. He was well aware of how your anxiety affected you at times. But he had never witnessed it manifest quite like this.

Instantly, the bag was placed on the floor, and he was at your side. “(Y/n), what's wrong?" 

“I—I'm going to fail my calc final,” you swallowed, your fingers curling into fists. Your shoulders slumped, and the weight of despair was evident in the way you hunched over the desk.

He placed a hand on your shoulder, attempting to calm you down. “You still have a few weeks before finals, (Y/n). And you’re not going to fail.”

“Yes, I am!” you cut him off, your voice strained. Tears welled up in your eyes, and your hands clenched even tighter. “I’ve been studying for days, and my dumb brain still doesn't understand anything. Do you know how stupid I feel?”

“Being bad at math doesn’t make you stupid, (Y/n),” Chenle said, trying to inject a bit of lightheartedness into the situation. However, his comment didn’t seem to offer you any comfort.

You shook your head miserably in response. “Stop trying to be nice. I'm going to fail, and then I’ll end up letting down my parents and everyone else.”

Chenle’s heart ached at the defeat in your voice. Setting his jokes aside, he recognized that words weren’t what you needed at the moment. Instead, he enveloped you in a warm embrace. You hesitated only briefly before surrendering to his comforting hold, attempting to fight back tears.

“Just let it out,” he whispered.

Those simple words acted as an emotional release trigger, and Chenle found himself gently rubbing your back as you quietly cried into his shoulder. A sense of mixed emotions flooded him as he held you in that moment. A part of him felt a twinge of relief, grateful that you let him be there for you. You often kept your emotions bottled up, making it a challenge for him to discern how you truly felt at times. 

However, there was a pang of sadness accompanying that satisfaction. He knew you didn't just cry in front of anyone, and realizing that you had reached this breaking point signaled the depth of your struggle.

After a while, Chenle gently pulled back, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You need a break, (Y/n). Let’s step away from the desk for a bit.”

"No, I really should—" you began to protest, but Chenle cut you off.

"You really should eat the food I brought you before it gets cold," he insisted, picking up the bag again.

He led you to sit on the carpet of your cramped dorm room, creating a makeshift dining space for the two of you. As you both shared a meal, Chenle continued to provide a comforting presence, occasionally cracking a joke to lighten the atmosphere.

As the night wore on, the exhaustion in your eyes became more prominent. Even so, you knew you should go back to studying. But Chenle seemed to disagree.

“Maybe you should just rest for the night. I promise to help you with math in the morning,” he suggested. However, upon seeing the unconvinced look you gave him, he backtracked on his words. “Okay, I'll have Renjun help you.”

Too tired to argue, you gave in, and that's how you found yourself lying in bed with your best friend. Back in high school, you used to have sleepovers at his house on the weekends. At night, the two of you would be lying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling and talking about anything. However, having him beside you at that moment felt strange. 

You saw a sincere tenderness reflected in those large eyes of his. A part of you wondered if Chenle often gazed at you with such fondness and you simply hadn’t noticed before. Either way, the way he was looking at you made you feel even stranger. And the short silence that had settled between the two of you wasn’t helping.

Uncertain of how much longer you could endure the intensity, you broke eye contact with him and murmured, “Thank you for always being there for me, even when I try to push you away”

Chenle chuckled, adjusting his position to prop himself up on his elbow. “Well, of course, because how could you live without me?”

His ability to joke at a time like this struck you as unfathomable. Instead of the usual eye roll or pushing off the bed, a serious expression remained etched on your face. 

“You're right, I don't think I can live without you,” you said, your voice laced with drowsiness. “Because you’re one of the few people who truly care about me.”

The amusement in his eyes danced away, as he felt the gravity of your words. Something about seeing this vulnerable side of you was so beautiful in his eyes. Before he could fully process his own thoughts, Chenle found himself leaning in to close the space between you with his lips meeting your own.

Uncertain whether it was the leftover stress from your meltdown or the sleep deprivation that prompted you to kiss back without much thought. You could recall all the times you’ve kissed Chenle throughout the years. But this one would always stand out to you.

This kiss lasted a lot longer than your previous ones. But it wasn’t just the way he tilted your chin upward for a better angle, or the feeling of his dark locks of hair slipping between your fingers. Nor was it the soft pressure of his lips moving in sync with yours. It was the indescribable emotions that made time seem to stand still, weaving an unspoken connection that surpassed words and left you yearning for more.

Aside from pulling away, both of you gasping for breath, and noticing how Chenle's lips were redder than you had ever seen them, you vaguely recalled what happened after the kiss. When you woke up the next morning, Chenle was already gone. However, he had left you a text message, mentioning that he went to check if Renjun could help tutor you in math.

But math was no longer the sole stressor in your mind. Your best friend had kissed you last night, and unlike all the other times, this one left you feeling more confused than ever. 

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

True to his word, Renjun offered to meet up with you that Sunday afternoon at the campus library. Within an hour of sitting down to unravel the calculus concept that eluded you, Renjun finally helped you grasp the material. Although the looming fear of failing finals had diminished, you still felt a weight on your shoulders.

“You don’t seem as relieved as I thought you’d be,” Renjun remarked lightheartedly. Even he could tell your mind was preoccupied with something else.

You smiled sheepishly, “No, I am! I seriously owe you for helping me out. I just…”

“Is it something to do with Chenle?” he asked, almost like he was a mind reader.

His unexpected question caught you off guard. “How did you know?” you stammered, feeling the heat quickly rise to your cheeks.

A knowing smile played on the boy’s lips as he leaned back in his seat. “Oh come on, (Y/n). You have that look on your face that something happened between the two of you.”

Sometimes you seriously wished Renjun wasn’t so good at reading people. Even though you weren’t as close to him as Chenle was, he’s known you long enough to notice things that others wouldn’t. For instance, when something was troubling you.

Biting your lip, you debated whether to be truthful with Renjun. Although you didn't typically share your problems with others, you recognized that confiding in someone at a time like this was necessary to maintain your sanity.

“Chenle kissed me last night,” you tossed the statement out in the air, hoping you wouldn’t regret it.

Renjun’s eyes widened at this revelation, “He did?!”

“Well you see, we’ve kissed before. But this time it felt different,” you clarified, baffling the boy across from you even more. Internally cringing, you were acutely aware of how bad this sounded.

Before he could question, you continued to elaborate. “Look, it's not as complicated as it sounds. It’s just ever since we agreed to be each other’s first kiss, Chenle and I just keep having these…accidental kisses. Whether it’s out of excitement or to get guys hitting on me to go away.”

Renjun listened quietly as you recounted all the other times you’ve kissed Chenle. When you circled back to the previous night, you felt more conflicted than ever.

“But the kiss last night left me feeling so confused,” you confessed, running a hand through your hair. “Initially, I thought he was just doing it out of comfort, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Well, have you considered the possibility that he has feelings for you?” Renjun inquired, crossing his arms. His suggestion sounded so simple, yet it felt like navigating uncharted territory in your mind.

You shook your head in denial. “N—No, I mean we’ve been best friends for five years. He can’t possibly see me that way.”

“Like that’s ever stopped friends from falling for each other,” Renjun cocked his head. “It doesn’t take a genius to know that he likes you, (Y/n).”

His point made you mentally curse. If you looked at your history with Chenle from an objective point of view, the two of you certainly didn’t act like normal best friends.

“And, it’s pretty obvious that you like him too,” Renjun added, twirling the pencil between his fingers.

His statement left you feeling exposed, as if you had been caught red-handed committing a crime. Laughing nervously, you shook your head, “Renjun, we’re just friends. I…I don’t see him that way.”

Renjun raised an eyebrow, “Friends who kiss? Did you really not feel anything in those moments?”

Your teeth sank further into your lower lip as Renjun’s question hit you. The reality of your feelings for Chenle lingered in the air, challenging the facade you had built to convince yourself otherwise. It was like trying to hold sand in your fists, slipping away no matter how tightly you clenched. The truth, however inconvenient, seemed to be unraveling before you.

“I…I did feel something,” you slowly admitted, “But I never said anything because I didn’t want our friendship to change. It just seemed easier to pretend those moments were nothing more than accidents.”

Renjun’s eyes softened with understanding. “Well maybe a little change is what you need in your friendship.”

Maybe Renjun was onto something, perhaps change was necessary. In the past, you had always held out on dating, using the excuse that you were waiting for the right person. Despite the fear of potential rejection, what if Chenle was the person you had been waiting for all along?

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Chenle’s living room bathed in the gentle glow of the TV screen, a familiar sight during your Friday movie nights since college began. It was supposed to be a time to unwind, to escape the pressures of school for a little while. However, instead of the usual peaceful and easygoing atmosphere, an unspoken tension hung in the air tonight. Beyond picking a movie and deciding who made the popcorn, you and Chenle barely talked. The weight of the unspoken words made the space feel suffocating, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in your chest.

Unable to endure the weighty silence any longer, you turned your head to make a lame comment about the movie. However, before you could speak, Chenle beat you to it.

“Can we talk?” His voice carried a hint of restlessness, an unusual departure from his usual tone.

Trying to maintain a casual demeanor, you lightly nodded. With your acknowledgment, Chenle exhaled deeply and sat up straighter to face you properly.

“I know how crazy this might sound,” he started, running a hand through his hair. “But I’ve been thinking, and I don’t think we can stay friends.”

His words felt like a gun being pointed at your chest, panic surged within you as you tried to process the boy’s words. Of all the ways you predicted this conversation could go, this was not one of them.

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice even smaller than his.

Noticing the perplexity in your eyes, Chenle continued. “You see, I've been in love with you for—I don’t know how long. But I spent all these years burying my feelings like a fool, because I never thought you’d see me that way. Yet, every time we kiss, it becomes harder for me to ignore my feelings for you.”

Chenle glanced down at his folded hands, vulnerability seeping into those brown orbs of his. “The other night made me realize that I don’t want to just be friends who kiss anymore. I want to be something more to you.”

His words lingered in the air now that they were out in the open. Your heart raced faster than it ever has before, as your cheeks flushed with heat. Chenle’s eyes bore into yours, his expression nervous yet hopeful. 

For a moment, you were left speechless. But you still had the sense to hit him on the shoulder, scolding, “Oh my gosh, you can’t start a conversation like that, Chenle. You scared me!”

The boy chuckled sheepishly, rubbing his shoulder. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. But seriously, (Y/n), I meant what I said.”

A mix of emotions played on your face before you quietly admitted, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to be something more to you since that day we kissed in my bedroom.”

You noticed a smile of relief beginning to form on his lips, but you held up a finger before he could say anything. Now that he had taken the first step, you decided it was time for you to do the same.

“But I kept trying to convince myself that all the times we kissed were accidental or just for comfort,” you confessed, looking directly into his eyes. “And the reason I’ve been pushing away my feelings for you was because I was afraid of losing a friend who means the world to me.”

His hand rested on top of yours, the light touch sending a shiver down your spine. “You don’t have to be afraid because you’ll never lose me, (Y/n).”

The softness and sincerity in his eyes made you want to cry for some inexplicable reason. You once believed that confessing your feelings for Chenle would only lead to frustration and heartbreak. However, as you sat here with him, holding his hand, those worries seemed to vanish.

“So…what do we do now?” you asked, unsure of what was supposed to come next in these situations.

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he grinned. “I think this is the part where we kiss. But you know, as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

Just as you were processing his words, he moved closer, his breath warm against your skin, making your heart flutter. His eyes searched yours for permission. 

“Well, what are you waiting for then?” you whispered.

With that, the distance between you closed, and your lips met in a tender kiss. It was a sweet surrender, a culmination of years of friendship and suppressed feelings. Although this wasn’t your first kiss with Chenle, it felt that way in a sense. For you could finally savor the tender feeling of his lips without questioning the intention behind it.

In that moment, all you focused on was the way Chenle had his hand on the small of your back, guiding you closer as he deepened the kiss. Your fingers found their way to rest on the nape of his neck, feeling the warmth of his skin. 

Although the change in this dynamic had just begun, this newfound connection promised countless moments of shared laughter, whispered confessions, and the sweet warmth of shared kisses. You had a feeling that you could easily get used to this beautiful new normal. By the way Chenle smiled during the kiss, you could tell he felt the same way.

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

[godessanonymous]

DR3 - Light as a feather

Request: No.

Genre: Smut

Triggers: Sex, Age gap(implied) yes this is filthy but oh well :>

Summary: A stressed out student and her hot proffesor try to relive some of that stress.

Not proofread - 3k words

You walked down the empty hall of the big old university building slowly; it was already late. No other students in sight anymore. A young good-looking professor had been giving lectures for your course for a while now. The tension was undeniable, glances exchanged after class, unnecessary Smalltalk being made, suggestive words being thrown into conversations. His classes were nothing but average, yet you still made sure you attended each and every single one of them. God you felt a little dirty for wanting your teacher.

You were equally nervous as excited as you continued the journey down the hall towards the big oak door of his usual lecture hall. Why did he want to speak to you? And why did this meeting have to be so late? You mind ran wild with the opportunities this talk could pose. A date? More than that? you stopped your train of thoughts. This was inappropriate.

You reached the door. Unsure what to do you knocked. Steps approached the door. The handle clicked down and the door swung open. You were met with the smile on Mr. Ricciardo’s face.

“Evening, please come in.” He said holding the door open for you to enter the room. The door clicks shut behind you.

“So I saw you were reading the book I recommended to you.” He said walking over to his desk, leaning against the edge of it. “How have you been liking it.” His eyes were focused on you. It was almost unsettling.

“Its good, I haven’t gotten that far into it yet, school is very demanding at the moment, loads of work to do.” You answered, unsure where this was going. “ That is understandable.”

“How have you been coping with all that stress? Seeing friends? Or perhaps a partner?” You were shocked, this was very straight forward. And unprofessional. Were you fantasies not too far off all this time? “Uh- I don’t no. I know how to cope with stress if that’s what you’re worried about.” You say, the slight shake in your voice almost going unnoticed. Almost. He had picked up on it. You were nervous.

“Hmm, I see. Perhaps I can still help you with that.” Excuse you?! Were your ears playing tricks on you? Surely this wasn’t what he meant right? The smirk on the man’s face proved otherwise. He really did just say that. “I wanna test something today, you’re always doing so good in class. The perfect student. The classic good girl. I want to prove that theory. Do me a favor, take out the book. Start where you left off. Read.” He spoke. His voice is getting a little lower than before. What was he asking you to do? Where could this lead?

The excitement was unbearable, but you couldn’t help but feel guilty. This wasn’t right. If someone were to see this, it would set an end to both of you guys’ careers before yours had even properly begun.

Under his waiting eyes you slowly slid your backpack off your shoulder. It hit the floor with a quiet thud. The sound of the zipper opening was almost deafening in the silence of the big hall.

You took the book into your hands, opening the page with your flower bookmark in it with shaky fingers. The words almost didn’t leave your mouth, suddenly so dry you could barely make a sound.

You started “Chapter Nine: The Ruins…”.

With your quiet voice filling the silence of the lecture hall, your professor left his place at the desk to slowly, very slowly walk toward you. Almost reaching the book held out in front of you, he stepped to your side, making a slow circle around your narrow figure. You stumbled over your words. Your usually so fluent flow of reading stuttering under the presence of the black-haired man.

One of his large hands grazing the side of your waist just barely, making you stop reading completely. “Did I tell you to stop, hm?” he chuckled into your ear. His breath was hot on your skin, yet it sent shivers down your spine. You picked up the sentence you failed at just a second ago.

Your voice now even quieter than before. His tall presence behind you splitting your attention from the small letters. His hand now fully settled on your hip making you suck in a deep breath. His body behind you being mere inches away from pressing up against yours.

“Tell me I am misjudging this, tell me to stop and I will.” He whispers into your ear making you shiver once again. You were too deep in now, fully playing along with whatever, he was planning.

You didn’t say anything. He took that as confirmation to keep going, a second hand laying on your body now. Resting up against your ass. His body getting even closer to yours and his lips just barely grazing your exposed right shoulder.

Feeling your compliance, he began placing full kisses up your shoulder toward your neck up, until right behind your ear. His hands never stopped moving from here on. Exploring the front of your body, slipping under the white university issued button up, dancing across your now exposed skin.

They were light yet thoughtful. Moving his body closer to yours in one swift motion. One of his hands moved up to your bra, but he didn’t do anything just yet, just resting it there.

You got lost in the feeling of his lips starting to get more demanding now the kisses getting more intense. Even sucking a small mark into the skin right below your ear.

Before you really knew what was happening, he grabbed your hips spinning you around to face him, you yelped at the sudden movement, your head spinning a little bit.

But there was no room for thought as his lips crashed into yours with a boldness and hunger that quickly took your breath away.

A small moan slipped your lips, the intense kiss being everything you dreamed of and more.

Body resting against yours Daniel took small steps toward his big desk, guiding your backwards with small steps until your ass hit the wooden edge of the desk. He broke the kiss leaving you both to gasp for air.

“So pretty.” he mumbled before turning his attention to the shirt still covering way more of your chest than he liked. With swift fingers he opened every single button, pushing the light fabric off your shoulders and somewhere into the blur that the rest of the room was.

All you had eyes for was him. His pink lips and the hunger in his dark eyes.

He was thinking, and everything pause for a second. The book was still in your hand, you somehow managed to hold onto it while your other hand had gripped the dark curly of the Australian for support throughout the make out.

“Turn around. Bend over the desk.” He ordered. The tone of his voice left no room for protest. “Don’t move.” So you stood there, your upper body resting on the dark wood of the desk. It was cold against your exposed skin, the thin bra not protecting the shivers from reaching your nipples.

“First piece of evidence to support my theory. You’re good at doing what you’re told. Good girl.”

The sentence sent shivers down your spine. You were a sucker for praise.

Daniel walked around the desk, slowly. Until he reached a drawer. It slid open with a tiny squeak.

You watched him pull out a big feather and another object you couldn’t quite make out. It left you confused.

He was quickly back behind you hand resting up against your aching lower half. His hand slipped under your skirt. Brushing over your thigh wandering up ever so slowly. You let out a small whimper.

He finally moved up. Fingers brushing up against the damp spot between your legs, your panties annoyingly in the way of direct contact. He made his way up your slit and pressed them ono your clit. You couldn’t help but let out a small noise.

“Hm, already so wet. You thought about this before, haven’t you? Well so have I.” He spoke in a deep tone, only making you ache more. His fingers quickly hooked the band of your underwear sliding it down your legs in a swift motion.

The second it hit the ground a small tap on your thigh ordered you to spread your legs a little bit. Your body acted on its own, no need for any conscious movement.

The fabric of your skirt now bunched up around your hips you waited, anticipated his next move. But nothing happened. There was just silence for a moment. Just as you wanted to ask what was going on his voice filled the air again.

“Well, I want to know how the story continues. Keep reading to me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears for a second. Keep reading? You were bent over his desk, body exposed, why would you read.

Noticing your hesitation he gripped your hips, bending over to whisper in your ear. “I’m not going to ask again.”

You propped yourself onto your elbows, sliding the book in front of you. His hands tracing your curves you opened the page back up you had started reading earlier.

You breathed out the first words shakily. What was happening.

Just as you finished reading the first sentence you were stopped, and surprised by a feather light sensation against your pussy. It made you gasp, the need for touch down there still prominent.

“Come on. Keep reading.” Daniel chuckled. Damn it that was the game he way playing? It was crazy.

And you fucking loved it.

Breath hitching again you kept reading, slowly. Doing your best to shift your focus and not let the teasing at your entrance distract you. You failed miserably.

“No baby, not there. Read it from the start. If you can get through this entire page without stopping maybe ill do a little more than… this.” He said brushing the feather across the skin of your back.

As you started to read again, Daniel continued the teasing. You couldn’t even get through he first paragraph. You needed more friction. The slight movements of the white feathers did not do nearly enough for how needy you were.

It took you all your willpower to make it through the first paragraph of the page. Daniel behind you was tracing his fingers across the middle of your back, resting it on your ass every now and then, while placing kisses on your body.

You were on fire. This was a terrible game.

You kept reading. Having to physically keep your legs apart. Not to shut them in a attempt at some friction.

You were about in the middle of the second paragraph as the touching of the soft white torture device stopped all of a sudden. You were startled by the absence of it for a second. You kept reading. The end is getting closer. More than halfway through the page now.

Your progress was quickly demolished as two fingers came down on your clit, moving slow circles around it.

You could feel the start of that familiar knot feeling in your stomach almost immediately. “Oops, you were doing so well. Come on, start from the top.”

You let out a frustrated groan before you started to read again.

You managed to get back to where you were. If he were to step up the intensity now, you’d be gone once again. You kept reading.

8 lines left.

5 lines left.

And that’s when he decided to ruin you again.

You were in the middle of a word when his fingers suddenly left your already overly sensitive nub and moved to tease your entrance. Not giving you a warning before moving just one finger in.

Not all the way. Just barely around the entrance, moving in slow circles. A needy moan escaped your lips as you finally felt him where you wanted you.

“Aw kitty, so needy. Ill give you a deal, start from the beginning of the third paragraph and if you make it through now ill finally give you what you want.” He spoke.

Overeager to finally get more you started up again.

He again didn’t do anything more until you were almost at the end. Right before you could start the last sentence he shoved deep inside of you, immediately adding another finger.

His fingers were big, filling you nicely. Curling up inside you to hit a sweet spot.

You tried to keep going through gritty teeth feeling that you weren’t to far from your orgasm. You failed, you head dropping into your hands and grinding back against the vicious hands of your teacher.

“No, no honey. Not like this, do that again.” He growled making you whine. His other hand placing on your lower back pressing you against the table taking your ability to move your body onto him.

“you can do that for me right? You’d do anything to please me.” He said again making your squirm underneath him.

He kept up a torturous rhythm, a pace barely not enough to get you right to the edge but rather leaving it just in sight but not able to be reached.

You read again, this time you made it. A moan left you body as the last word slipped off your tongue.

“Look at you, so good.”

His pace quickened. Moving you closer and closer. Your body fell forward onto the desk. Quiet pleas coming from your throat as your legs started shaking. “Please may i-“ you squeezed out.

“Come on hold it. Ill count.” You could practically hear the smug smile across his lips as the words slipped over them. And then he started his countdown, taking all the time he wanted. Starting all the way at ten.

You were so impossibly close. You physically had to hold back your high. It almost hurt. Whimpers left your mouth and a single tear made its way down your cheek.

3.

2.

…

1.

And that was all the queue you needed as stars crossed your vision. The knot in your body snapped, sending shockwaves all throughout. Daniel didn’t stop for a second, moving through your high dragging it out as long as he possibly could.

You were a mess, puddle at the mercy of his guidance.

“That’s right, make a mess.” He growled.

You were breathing heavily. Not even fully down from the state of bliss he had just sent you to.

He pulled you up, so you were facing him. The big desk supporting your shaking legs. You were pulled into a hungry kiss. His tongue making his way into your mouth taking control of the heated action.

“Second piece of evidence, Good girls only come when they are given permission.”

His hands grabbed your as cheeks as he lifted you up carrying you around the desk to his big leather chair.

He sat down, you were now situated on his lap.

“Take what you need baby.”

You didn’t have to be told twice as you made quick work of his shirt, pulling it over his head. You stopped to admire the permanent artwork displayed on his muscular chest. You traced them with your fingers and placed soft kisses around the neck of the god like man underneath you.

You swiftly got up to remove his pants and boxers freeing his hard cock. He was so turned on.

You ran your hand down to his length and collected a bead of pre-cum of his tip. He was big, you could take him but your sensitive pussy had something coming.

Before you could take it any further he reached behind you toward the desk and you heard the rip of a wrapper before he pulled the condom over himself.

After getting a approving look You crawled back onto him hovering above him for a second before slowly sinking yourself down.

You threw your head back in pleasure. He felt so good. Moving into you, hitting just the right places. Neither of you could hold bac the animalistic noises sparked by the pleasure.

He hit so deep inside you thought you could feel him in your stomach. Taking a second to adjust to his size you stopped. You could already feel another orgasm building.

You started moving your hips. Spelling out his name with your movements. The movement itself was already very stimulating.

Adding to it you moved up and down a bit. You could feel him twitch telling you he is close.

Your movements intensified chasing the release for the both of you. “Omg baby yes. “ He moaned.

Seconds later you came in unison, riding each others highs out till the very end. Collapsing into a heap of limbs. Breathless and sweaty.

“Good fucking girl, you are so amazing.” He said resting his head against yours.

“God Daniel, this was the hottest thing I have ever done.”

“Was? Baby I’m not done with you yet.” - Thank you for reading. Please feel free to send me requests i need ideas :>

[peachesofteal]

Would darling in the baby trap au ever get an abortion as a way to take control back? Simon and Johnny took her choice away so she takes that hope from them? I love all the different routes of the au you’ve written so far!

TW: abortion

18 + / dark themes, reader had an abortion, angst / baby trap au / Darling doesn’t know about the baby trapping - this is not after 'spits', just exists somewhere in baby trap au

The bed feels more empty than it ever has before.

The guys are dead asleep, Johnny curled along your side, a hand possessively resting overtop your belly button. Simon is snoring a little, from laying his back, his fingers curled on the inside of your thigh. Like a tether.

You’re laying awake, staring at the ceiling, counting your breathing. A very large part of you wants them to sleep in for hours so you can delay the inevitable. The conversation looms in the back of your mind, like a ticking time bomb, and even though you’ve rehearsed it a million times… you still weren’t sure how exactly you were going to tell them.

They wanted this.

They had wanted this so badly, they were so thrilled when you had told them you were pregnant.

It was shocking. It was unsettling. You always believed you and Simon, lived on the same page. And then, to be so blindsided by their unadulterated glee... it was a betrayal.

And you couldn't even be mad at them, for being happy about an accident. For embracing such a big change with a positive attitude.

But you could be in control of your own body. Make your own decisions.

Johnny stirs, and then he pulls you closer, shifting until your legs are intertwined with his and you’re partially rolled over, your face buried in his chest.

“Good morning.” He whispers with a kiss, a loving touch that’s placed in your hair.

“Morning.” You mumble, and his arms tighten around you.

“How’re ye feeling?” You’ve been ‘sick’ the past few days, with what they thought were pregnancy symptoms, but in reality, was just the remnants of medication.

“Better.” You take a long breath, and then let out slowly. “Johnny, I- I have something I need to tell you. Both of you.” You don’t look up from where your face is pressed to his warm skin, and when he tries to peel you off, you resist, pushing back. Simon’s snoring stopped a minute ago, and now his chest presses to your back.

“What is it?” He smooths a hand over your forehead, and then waits.

“I…” fuck. The air in the room is now non existent, your body buzzing with a weird numbness that spreads through your veins like an illness. Everything feels heavy, and you try to relax enough to speak.

“Darling?” Johnny encourages and you close your eyes.

“I had an abortion.”

The energy in the room shifts. Johnny holds his breath, and Simon sits halfway up, while you clench your eyes shut like a child hiding from a monster.

“It’s why I’ve not been feeling well… I got the pills from the clinic. Last week. Took them the other day.”

“You…” Johnny says, and his arms go limp around you, the motion alone enough to bring tears to your eyes.

Simon doesn't let go, but his arms tighten, and you steel yourself against the swell of your feelings, the pain, the sadness, welling up into a giant pit that swallows your entire stomach.

"Why?" It's a simple word, a question in a syllable, but the answer is vast, and complicated, and hard.

"I didn't want it. Wasn't ready, to be a mom. I felt like I was trapping you both-"

"We wanted to keep it." Johnny rebukes, tone frosty, colder than you've ever heard it before. It makes you feel nauseous.

No. No, it's not fair. It's your body, not yours.

"What about what I wanted? It's... it's my body! Not yours-"

"But it was our baby too." He seethes, sitting up, jerking away from you. Simon still holds you, stroking a soothing hand up and down your arm.

"Johnny." It sounds like a warning, but one Johnny doesn't heed.

"How could ye be so selfish? How could ye not even tell us? We wanted that baby! Wanted it together, all of us, darling. As a family!" His outburst, the words, shock you, and tears pour down your cheeks, chest shuddering with sobs while Simon keeps you from moving.

"That's enough, Johnny." Simon's voice takes on the edge, the authority, and Johnny snaps his mouth shut, staring at you, saying nothing. Hopelessness etched across his face.

"I'm s-sorry." You sob. "I didn't want it." He says something in response, something you can't understand, and you turn away, seeking the warmth of Simon's body, eager to hide from his anger.

You hurt him. You betrayed him.

Simon rubs your back, whispering to you that you're okay, that you need to focus on breathing, that everything will be okay, but all you feel inside of yourself is a vacant, gaping hole. A hole where your heart used to be. A hole where a baby used to be.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." you cry, hoping Johnny hears your apology, your plea.

The bedroom door slams in response.

[vampyrixdarling]

Hi I have a request! (I know it’s not the season but-I wanted to know) do you do Yandere Werehog Sonic? Of a reader who actually love’s werewolves?(if not that’s okay?)

— 「𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐡𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬」

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ MASTERLIST

╰┈➤ [yandere] Sonic the Werehog x reader

: ̗̀➛ synopsis; How would yandere Sonic act to you in his werehog form?

: ̗̀➛ Type; Platonic/Romantic Headcanons

: ̗̀➛ warning(s); yandere behaviour, obsession, brief mentions of kidnapping, brief mentions of murder.

Likes/Reblogs are always appreciated!! <3

☆ Sonic in his Werehog form isn’t that different from his usual form. Other than the obvious changes in appearance, he’s still the same funny guy. Just.. a bit more huge and fluffier. Truth be told, he didn’t even know you liked werewolves.

☆ He found it weird— yet oddly comforting—that you didn’t really mind his new form. He loved how you didn’t mind his razor sharp teeth, or the unsettling growl tinting his voice every time he spoke. You loved to feel his fur, and occasionally poke at his fangs to see just how sharp they really are.

☆ Sonic as a yandere would be Clingy, obsessive, possessive & paranoid. This only gets worse when he’s a werehog, as these traits amplify significantly.

☆ Speaking of, I think his clingy and obsessive behaviour would become stronger during this. He already hates being away from you normally, but it just gets worse when he’s a werehog. His jealousy would also skyrocket. He’d also be way more protective of you.

☆ On the topic of jealousy, I don’t think he minds getting his hands dirty. If he feels he needs to, for any reason, he’ll do it under the guise that he’s protecting you. If it’s someone he doesn’t like, he’ll convince himself they’re bad news and need to be taken care of. He’s very protective of you, and he won’t let anything horrible happen to you, so why should he just stand by and let some guy who’s obviously making you uncomfortable talk to you? He’s a friend? Sure he is. You’re just blinded, surely. That’s the only explanation the werehog can come up with after all.

☆ I also think he’d inherit at least some animalistic traits and instincts. I think his sense of smell would be heightened, and so would his needs to protect you. He’d also be a lot faster and stronger than he was before. He’d become familiar with your scent rather quickly, and it’s like a drug to him. He craves you, to hold you close and claim you as his, but he knows better than to kidnap you. Not immediately, at least. Besides, he knows you can never outrun him even if you tried your hardest, much less be able to struggle against him. Sure you can try, but he’s not letting you go that easily.

☆ Taken over by his animal instincts, he can’t help but give you gifts of his own. It’ll start small, with little dead animals such as mice or even flickies. But then it’ll grow bigger, with every kill Sonic commits in your honor being delivered straight to your house. Whether you choose to accept his gifts or run away is completely up to you. But that doesn’t mean they’ll stop, nor will Sonic. He loves the chase, after all. Plus, he’d act like a wounded puppy if you found out it was him and expressed your distaste.

☆ I think he’d find it adorable how tiny you are compared to him. He loves to pick you up and spin you around. There’s just something about you being smaller that just drives him crazy. (No, not like that.) This would be followed by him squishing you in a hug, allowing you to be basically wrapped around his warm fur as he smiled, his sharp teeth allowing themselves to be seen. That’s one of his favourite things do to with you— to hug and cuddle you. It makes him think he’s protecting you, and allows him to be closer to you, both physically and emotionally.

[back2bluesidex]

Where Do Broken Hearts Go - Chapter 2 (18+)

Pairing: Model, ex-boyfriend!Jungkook X Child psychologist, Fem!Reader X Lawyer, Single Dad!Hoseok. 

Summary: Jungkook stripped your emotions naked, left you bare in the chilly wind of despair and self-doubt with an unending heartache. You tried your hardest to move on from him, to live for yourself but failed miserably. Each night you had to come back to your empty home where memories and broken dreams were scattered all around the floor, until one day a little angel and her unbelievably beautiful father came into your life. Finally, when you find yourself healing, maybe falling too, Jungkook had to show up! Again!

Theme: Angst, pining, heartbreak, break-up, SMUT (MDNI) (not in this chapter)

Warnings: Mentions of school bullying, Hoseok is so attractive (this chapter is basically me simping over Hoseok), Reader is insecure.

Word count: 4.4k

Taglist requests are closed.

Minors and karens are not allowed in this blog

A/N: The chapter starts with JK's pov and changes into the reader's but it's nothing too tough to understand. I hope you guys like it. Please hit me up on askbox and let me know how is it.

Main Masterlist

Chapters:- 

Prologue/Masterpost || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4 || Chapter 5 || Chapter 6 || Chapter 7 - Finale

His eyes drift towards the window. 

What time should it be now? 10 am? 11 am? He doesn’t know. Not that he is in a rush for anything. There is absolutely no haste to disappear before prying cameras sneak into his private space. 

He should be at peace, a weird tranquility that is supposed to be easy. But deep down Jungkook is very much unsettled. 

As he eyes the wide blue sky out of Jiwon’s bedroom window, his mind reels back to you. The last day he saw you, the way you were standing with a ring in your hands, the way he broke your heart and the way you marched out of his life with merely a goodbye. You didn’t ask him why he fell out of love with you, nor were you curious enough about what made him fall in love with another woman. 

“What does she have that I don’t? Why can’t I be enough for you? How can you be so cruel?” These are the words Jungkook expected to hear from you when he dropped the bomb. But instead he heard you wishing him a good life and walking away from him without a single complaint. 

Were you always ready for the blow? Were you preparing yourself to let him go? He can’t tell. But no matter how much he tries he can’t stop wondering what you are upto now. How have you been spending your nights or how are you coping up with the pain he has provided you with?

Jiwon scoots her body closer to Jungkook’s. Her nose brushes on his forearm. Jungkook freezes. Is he really thinking of you lying awake in his new girlfriend’s bed after breaking up with you for the same woman?

He is being unfair to both of you and Jiwon. 

His eyes close on their own accord. 

When he opens those again, Jiwon is already smiling up at him. 

“Good Morning, handsome.” she says sweetly. 

“It’s almost noon, I believe.” Jungkook chuckles, turning on his side, facing Jiwon fully. 

“Really? Then we better leave the bed now. You can wash up while I make coffee for you.” Jiwon kisses on his cheek as she sits up. 

“No. It’s fine. I have to leave.” Jungkook sits up too. 

“Why? You don’t have any schedule today. Do you?” Jiwon pouts. 

“Not really. Actually.. my house is a mess and I wanted to clean up before I get busy.” Jungkook reasons. 

“We can eliminate these problems, you know?” Jiwon holds his hand, looking a little shy and sheepish. 

“Umm? I didn’t get you?”  Jungkook is confused. He has no idea what his new girlfriend has to suggest for his house chore. 

“I mean… Why don’t we move in together? It will be easy for both of us. We can take turns on the chore and spend more time together when both of us are free? What do you say?” Jiwon’s eyes are full of hope. But Jungkook doesn’t know what to say. 

“I- Jiwon, I think it’s too early. We will have to talk to the agency as well.” Jungkook runs a hand through his already disheveled hair. 

“Why will we have to talk to the agency? They already know about us. All we need to do is to inform them once we are ready.” Jiwon holds his hand tighter. 

That’s the thing. Jungkook is not ready yet. Your words ring in the back of his head.  

“Home? You mean the apartment you left because your agency said it’s risky to share a space with your girlfriend of three years? The same place you refused to meet at because paparazzi are keeping tabs on you as you are rumored to be dating someone else?”

He sighs. 

Yes, he loves Jiwon but he doesn’t know if he is ready to share a space with her yet. Especially when he left you behind in the excuse of his career and prying paparazzies. 

Jungkook concludes that it’s his guilt that is resisting him from going too far with Jiwon just yet. So he decides to wait, to take a little time to think more deeply about what he actually wants, not what he wants to want for the sake of his girlfriend. 

“Jiwon, I don’t want to rush anything. We can take it slow and understand each other better before moving in. Let’s give each other a little more time, okay?” He says with a tight lipped smile. 

Jiwon’s face falls a bit but she nods in understanding. 

“You must admit, the guardian of your new counselee is too hot.” Miseon mumbles as she chews down a spoonful of bibimbap, “he seems quite young too. Must have gotten married to his high school sweetheart or something?” 

You narrow your eyes at her, “If you are trying to dig down his personal information then let me remind you that-”

“Yeah. Yeah I know. Confidential information and all. I was just curious. I mean usually both of the parents or mothers visit with their children. It’s probably the first time I saw only the dad coming in, that too, looking like a snack.” Your friend looks up at you with a quizzical gaze as if she wants you to validate what she just commented. 

Yes. Hoseok is certainly hot and attractive. But what gripped you more is the way he is determined to be a good father to Sua, despite the complicated fatherhood he faced. The concerned look on his handsome face flashes in your mind.  

“Y/N?” Hoseok calls your name as he stands up from his seat, getting ready to leave your cabin. 

“Yes?” you respond. 

“Sua.. she will be fine, right?” If you are not wrong then you hear Hoseok’s voice trembling a bit.

“I will be able to answer that after two more sessions I suppose.” you smile apologetically. 

“Yeah. Yeah of course. I am sorry. I- I am just very worried.” His eyes drop to stare at the floor. 

“Which is only natural. There is no need to apologize.” You voice. Pausing a little bit, you continue, “Sua seems to be more mature than the kids of her age. She is quite closed up as well. So, it is possible for her to hide some sort of things she is going through. I need to win her trust first to let her open up to me but-” 

“But?” Hoseok grows impatient.

“But that is going to take some time. Especially because I don’t think she liked me. She might refuse to come back for the next session.”  You place carefully. 

“Then? What do you suggest doing in that case?” Hoseok questions. 

“I suggest outdoor therapy. Spending time with the counselee and their guardians in a place they like to visit together occasionally or frequently. And I also suggest Friday afternoons for counseling. Kids tend to be in a better mood and far more approachable when they are in their pre-weekend glory.” Your suggestion seems to put Hoseok at ease. “You already have my number. You can text me the place and time once you decide. Although I prefer the slot after lunch.” 

He nods, “Great then. I will see you on Friday… after lunch.” 

Hoseok’s dark eyes bores into yours once again as he steps towards you.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” he extends one of his veiny hands. 

You slip your hand into his, intertwining the muscles in a shake, “Likewise, Hoseok.”  

Miseon claps her hands in front of your face, shaking you out of the thoughts of Mr. Jung, “Hey mate! Where are you so lost?” 

“What? Yeah? Sorry, I was… thinking something.” you reply, jabbing your spoon in your bowl of bibimbap. 

“No. Don’t tell me you were lost in the thoughts of your douchebag ex-boyfriend.” Your friend regards you with fake anger in her eyes. 

“Ugh no! It was completely different.” you groan. Now that you realize, it’s probably the first time since your breakup that you have gone so long without having to let Jungkook’s thoughts seep inside your head. Meeting the Jungs was one thing but to keep on thinking of them even after they left your work place hours ago, is a completely different matter.  

And it’s a very welcoming change.

You sigh, “Don’t call him douchebag. He is not that bad.” 

Miseon’s eyes go wide at your response, “What is wrong with you? He left you for another girl, Y/N! How can you defend him like this?” 

You sigh, closing your eyes, “I am not defending him, Miseon. Some things are not just meant to be, you know? No matter how much time you invest, some relationships are not meant to last. Just like you can’t help falling in love with someone, you can’t help falling out as well. And he fell out of love with me, he found someone more suitable for him. What’s wrong with that? I should appreciate him that he at least didn’t go behind my back and cheat on me. Yeah, whatever Jungkook did, did not hurt me any less but that does not make him a bad person. Everyone deserves to be happy, be loved, be in love… so does he. I just- I just need to accept it.” Saying these words out loud really lightens your heart. Maybe today can be the first step towards your healing, just as you thought at the beginning of the day. 

“But what about your happiness? What about you being loved, being in love?” Miseon places her question. 

“I don’t really know. At this point I don’t even know if I deserve to be loved or not. Maybe there is something wrong with me, isn’t that the reason none of my relationships were successful?” You smile at her with eyes full of tears. 

“Cut the crap. You- I will strangle you to death if you say stuff like this ever again.”  Miseon jerks a fork in your direction making you laugh a little.

“Calm down, you angry woman.” you joke but your heart still feels heavy beyond measure.

Everything about weekdays is fine.. Apart from the fact that you have to come back to a huge and lonely home. 

It’s Wednesday and you sigh at the thought of entering your condo with absolutely nothing waiting for you. The thought burdens you, saddens you and you almost feel jealous of the newly married couple who just moved in last week. 

You punch the key-code in, which is, by the way, your and Jungkook’s birthdates combined. 

Placing the bag of groceries, you take a seat on the couch. The soft material soothes your aching back right away. You lean your head on the headrest, stare down at the cream-colored cloth of the couch, and caress it lightly as if caressing fragile memories. 

“Jungkook! What is wrong with you?” you sigh in resignation, throwing your purse on the couch.  

“Nothing.” He replies heading straight to the kitchen. 

“Don’t avoid it. You have been sulking all the way home. Did I offend you somehow?” you head towards your boyfriend. 

Jungkook chugs down water, crushes the plastic bottle and disposes of it in the trashcan so ferociously that you can’t help but be more and more amused with each passing moment. 

The moment he is about to exit the kitchen, you come and stand in front of him, “Jungkook, what is it?” 

Jungkook takes in a sharp inhale, avoiding his eyes from yours. 

“Who was that guy?” His voice is low, decorated with a buzz that suggests his annoyance.  

“Which guy?” There were a lot of guys at your reunion party and you don’t know which one Jungkook saw. Especially because he was waiting at the exit inside the car. 

“The one that saw you off with a hug.” He grits these words through his teeth. 

“O-Oh.. that’s Taeho, one of my batch mates. We used to be really close.” you gulp at the face Jungkook is making at your response.

“Really close huh? Is that why he hugged you so intimately? Wrapping up your waist, burying his entire fucking face on your neck? Just like a lover would? Just like I would?” 

Jungkook is jealous. And jealous Jungkook is not a good news. So you clear your voice as you choose your words carefully. 

“I admit that he was a little touchy. But he has always been like this with everyone. I promise, Jungkook, he didn’t have any other intention.” you reply calmly. 

“Really? Are you sure?” your boyfriend starts backing you up on the kitchen counter and soon you feel the cold countertop through the material of your dress. 

“Yes. hundred percent.” Jungkook’s tattooed arm comes to rest on one of your cheeks. 

“Good.” his body presses onto yours. “You know I love you, right? I am sorry for my behavior earlier. I just can’t see you with anyone else. What if they steal you from me?” Jungkook’s expression softens and an adorable pout takes over his lips. 

You giggle a little, “I know. And you, too, should know that nobody can take me away from you unless you give up on me.” 

“I am never gonna give up on you.” whispering these words, Jungkook brings his lips to yours. Locking two pairs of the soft pillowy muscles as if to seal the deal. 

A lone tear rolls down your cheek as you stare at the kitchen counter at present. Jungkook gave up on you and your love so easily, so fast and so readily that you didn’t even get the chance to ask him why and how. He looked so dejected the moment you pulled out the ring, that you had to take a step back out of embarrassment. You felt like you were throwing yourself at him when he was not at all willing to look at you properly. 

You are about to reach for the tissue box kept on the coffee table but you feel your work phone buzzing inside your coat pocket. It’s a text from an unknown number, probably from one of your new patients. 

“Hi.” “Seodaemun Children Park, Friday, 3:30 pm.”  “- Jung Hoseok.” 

If you are excited for an outdoor therapy, then you are not showing it on your face and absolutely not with your dress. 

You decided to keep it casual with a pair of denim boyfriend jeans and a lavender-colored knitted top. You check your face a little before getting out of your car. You look fine. Not that you want to look extra pretty or something, it’s just that you don’t want to convey your internal troubles through your face. 

A gush of fresh wind hits you as soon as you step out of the stuffy interior of your car. And you are smiling, without even noticing. 

You decide to take a moment to admire the beauty of fall, the light chill in the wind and the dimmed sun heading in the west. Maybe Miseon was right. You should have taken a walk around your neighborhood instead of drowning yourself in bottles of Soju back in the days of your pity party. 

Sighing to yourself, you pull out your phone from your purse to call Mr. Jung. 

He receives it just after the first ring. 

"Hello, Mr. Jung. This is Dr. Y/N. I have arrived at the park." You speak into the device. 

"Hey, Y/N. Just walk straight from the entrance and you will see a huge fountain. We are sitting at a bench right beside that." His voice comes out thicker through the speaker of your phone but you can feel the cherriness in it regardless. 

"Okay." You reply briefly as you cut the call.

Unlike you, Mr. Jung has chosen to dress formally. A dark blue three piece suit paired with equally majestic dark Chelsea boots signify an aura of authority in him. The attorney badge, sitting right on his suit, makes him look even sexier all together. He sits cross-legged, a sight that could take anyone's breath away. 

You stare at him from a distance, unable to keep your eyes off of the man for some mysterious reasons. However, you compose yourself before it's too late and look around for Sua. 

She's on the seesaw. She has her signature pigtails with adorable pink bows matching her pink dress perfectly. But the best thing is, she's smiling widely, which makes her look so damn cute. This father-daughter duo could kill people with their looks alone. 

You start walking towards Mr. Jung but Sua sees you before him. Her expressions turn somber as she registers you walking towards her dad. 

"Mr. Jung." You breathe out, standing beside the bench.

"Y/N." He stands up and greets you with the most beautiful smile you have ever had the opportunity to witness. And suddenly you find it hard to breathe.  

"I thought you agreed to call me by my name, which is Hoseok, in case you don't remember." He teases you with a playful grin.

Your cheeks hit up with embarrassment "Ah, yeah. I'm sorry. I tend to be forgetful. But I didn't forget your name, Hoseok." 

"That's good. I would have been seriously offended if you did." He teases you again, gesturing you to sit beside him.

“How is her mood today?” you question, sitting down beside him while keeping a respectable distance between your bodies. 

“Gloomy as always. But she brightened up as soon as I told her we were going to grab some ice-cream here in the park.” Hoseok replies, staring at Sua. 

“Did you see her face turning grey again as I walked in?”  You continue staring at Sua as she climbs off the seesaw and starts walking towards the bench.

“Umm.. yeah. She is usually very friendly but then again she is not quite herself these days.” Hoseok sighs. 

“Hmm noted.” you mumble. 

“Hey my little girl.” Hoseok coos as Sua runs into his embrace. She pulls his collar with her little hands lowering him down to her level to whisper something in his ear. 

“What is she doing here?” you hear her say. It’s impossible to resist your laugh at this cutely angry baby who is very displeased at your presence. 

“Sua. Where are your manners?” Hoseok scolds her. 

“Hey. it’s alright.” you stop him, without realizing that you have reached for his arm in the process and placed your right hand there. 

Hoseok’s eyes shift towards your hold and you remove your hand as swiftly as possible, mumbling a quick apology.   

“I didn’t mind a bit.” Hoseok whispers. There is an undertone in his voice and again you don’t know what it is. 

You have never been as clueless as you are about Hoseok.

Reading people has always been one of your greatest abilities, even far before you got into psychotherapy. Understanding what’s going inside someone’s head is nothing too hard for you. But with Hoseok it’s different. You feel exposed under his dark gaze when you should be the one to make him feel intimidated with you.  

The way he looks at you, makes you feel like he knows exactly how troubled you are, how lonely you feel and how broken you have become. 

Realizing you have been lost in Hoseok’s eyes for far too long, you avert your gaze to Sua. 

“Hey Sua. Annyeong.” you give her a big smile but she remains unfazed. 

“Annoyeng.” her small voices is sounds whiny. 

You sigh. She is harder to approach than you assumed. 

“You know my friends just ditched me. They went shopping without telling me that they had changed their plans. I was feeling so down, so I called daddy and asked him if I could see you.” you can feel Hoseok’s eyes still trained on your profile. 

“Really? Your friends went without you?” from her voice you know she relates. And that is the main reason why you chose this lie. 

“Yup. But it’s alright if you don’t want me to be here. I will-” You start standing up faking to leave the park. 

Sua cuts you off, “No. You can be here.” 

Great. That’s what you wanted all along, “Really? I can?” 

She nods. 

Your eyes divert to Hoseok again, who is staring at you with amusement in his eyes. 

“Then do you want to go swinging with me?” You ask the little girl pointing towards the pair of swings a little far away. 

She looks at Hoseok for permission and when he gives her an affirmative sign, she mumbles a little yes. So you extend your hand towards her, hold her and walk her towards the swing. 

“You know, I used to be so afraid of swings when I was little.” you are staring at the ground but you can feel Sua’s eyes at you. 

“Why?” she asks. You feel a sense of accomplishment as she is finally interacting with you. 

“One of my classmates pushed me so hard that I flew off the swing and ended up hurting both of my knees.” You laugh a little, “I didn’t go near swings for a long time after that.”

“And now? You are not afraid of swings anymore?” She stops her swing rendering it out of motion. Her full concentration is on you. 

“No. I grew up so tall. See.” You show yourself off by expanding your legs.

“So.. when I grow up tall I won’t be afraid of Jaemin anymore?” she looks up at you, her expression is filled with fear. You know you need to be more careful from here. 

“Umm.. that depends on why you are afraid of Jaemin. Is he… your classmate?” you speak softly. 

Sua diverts her attention to her shoes, kicking dirt and avoiding looking into your eyes. She stays silent for a moment and you don’t push her to talk. 

“Yes. He- he is a bad boy.” her soft voice quivers. 

Another case of school bullying. Most of the teenagers you counsel are either a victim of school bullying or an unhealthy domestic atmosphere. But this is the first time you are counseling a kid so small troubled with bullying. Usually kids of Sua’s age are more likely to tease each other over small things but bullying is a complex concept. Hence, counselling Sua may not be an easy task. 

“Does he annoy you a lot?” you place carefully enough so that you don’t trigger her unintentionally. 

“Yes.” her eyes are still trained on her shoes. 

Nodding to yourself, you decide not to push the conversation any further. Sua already looks down enough and you don’t want to ruin her Friday afternoon any more.  

“Sua, what do you like more, chocolate or vanilla? I like chocolate more.”  You say, trying to brighten up her mood. 

Her expression changes within a heartbeat, “Me too. Me too. I like chocolate a lot.”    

“Then should we have some ice-cream?”  you extend your hand towards her. 

This time Sua doesn’t wait for her father’s confirmation, she grabs your hand as you two hop off the swings and walk towards Hoseok, who is currently busy on the phone. 

He smiles up at both of you as he speaks into his phone, “No. not tonight. I am busy. I’ll call you later.” and he cuts the call. 

That sounded pretty much like the cancellation of a booty-call but whatever it is, it’s not your business. 

“Hey you girls. Did you guys have fun?” he asks, taking Sua into his embrace again. 

“Yes. We did. Right sua?” you giggle. 

Sua nods giggling back. 

“But daddy, you promised to buy me ice-cream, why haven’t you bought it yet?”  she pouts adorably and you giggle again. 

“Pabo! It would have melted.” Hoseok laughs at her daughter. 

“Oh. That’s right.” Sua exclaims, wondering hard. Even before you know it, you are laughing out loud. A fit of laughter escapes your throat at the cuteness of this father-daughters duo. The frequency of your laughter increases when two of them join you. Suddenly you realize it’s been an embarrassingly long time since you have laughed this loud, this freely, this genuinely. Suddenly, you feel good, you feel free. 

“Do you think there’s something to be seriously worried about?” Hoseok asks, walking you towards your car. Sua fell asleep right after having a bowl full of ice-cream. Hoseok tugged her into a blanket and put her into the car seat before walking you to yours. 

“It will be too early for me to say anything but I will get there soon. She is a kid after all, I can’t rush with her. I can’t dig into her fears unless she is comfortable enough. That will do more harm.” You come to stand in front of your car. 

Hoseok nods. 

“Yes. You’re right.” he murmurs. 

You swear to all the gods above there, they really took time to craft this man. His sharp jawline is a perfect contrast to his soft features. His dark brown eyes glint under the setting sun. And in this dimming light, he looks like a dream. 

And maybe you are dreaming because there is no way he is stepping close to you now, raising his hand, bringing it closer to your face and touching you. But then his fingers brushes on the skin of your neck, gently picking something off from it. You feel goosebumps all across your skin and at the same time your face feels like it’s on fire, bazing red and hot. 

Fuck. You are deprived of touches for so long. 

“Loose thread.” Hoseok whispers. 

“O-oh. Thanks. This top keeps losing threads.” an useless TMI. 

“It does the job though. You look really pretty.” he whispers again and with that heart-breakingly beautiful smile of his. 

That’s it. You need to run away as soon as possible. 

“Ah, thanks. You are kind. Bye. See you next Friday.” you bow a little. 

He takes a step back without dimming his smile, “Bye. I will be waiting. Drive safe, Y/N.”

You finally find your breath when he turns his back and walks away from you. This is unexplainable, this is not ethically right, you should be heartbroken, and you should stay miles away from stupid feelings but you just can’t stop admiring Hoseok. Currently you are more confused and clueless than you have ever been. And you absolutely don’t know what to do with it.  

Taglist:-

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonvi-blog @nochuel @xjoonchildx @justmewondering-recs @cuteipat @miakey98 @purpleanchorcrown @chimmisbae @ane102 @junniesoleilkth @terjeonbebas @kookssecret @appleh4ad @kayleeshinee @whoa-jo @definetlythinkimanalien @lovelgirl22 @agrika

[ddejavvu]

sooo mei I was reading through your matt murdock ml and stumbled across the mafia one and pleaseee that is so cute, would you ever expand on that au? like maybe r’s flat is broken into and before she can even go to the cops there’s a bunch of matt’s guys there like don’t worry we’ve got it handled and she’s just ???

mafia!matt is the last thing i thought i'd be writing in the year 2024 but i can work with what you gave me <3

--

You're not sure whether you'd consider yourself lucky for escaping the bank unscathed, or unlucky for having been in the bank during an active shooting in the first place. Either way, the entire ordeal leaves you unsettled for weeks. You're bordering on agoraphobic, but food is a must, so you set out to brave the streets of Hell's Kitchen in search of something quick and dirty.

Upon your return, you know you're unlucky. You'd locked the door when you'd left, but evidently that doesn't stop someone who's desperate enough to break into a place that's barely up to code. You stare into the gaping, dark recess of your burgled apartment, noting that several electronics and appliances are out of place, but none of them appear to be missing. Your television is cracked, but you suppose your computer will be a suitable replacement until you can manage to afford a new screen.

You back away from the door just in case there's still someone inside; you're not stupid enough to investigate for yourself. However, the moment you step back, you ram into someone behind you, and your mottled nerves make you nearly shoot out of your skin.

All you can manage is a muffled, 'mmf!' when a hand clamps itself over your mouth, but the voice accompanying the hand is quick to assure you, "Easy, tuts, we're not gonna make it worse. We're with- uh, the cops. Okay? We got a call from the neighbors, 'said they heard someone breakin' in. We've got it handled, alright? Just relax. You can head back inside, that creep is long gone. We'll have someone stand guard outside, got it?"

You're only let go of when your captor deems you calm, but your heart is still racing in your chest when you turn to face him. He doesn't look anything like a police officer, but he does look menacing. He shows you a badge and I.D, and they look authentic enough for your arrythmia to settle.

"Go on," He ushers you towards the door, "Get in there, we'll take care of it from here."

You adjust your grip on your plastic bag of frozen meals, passing a couple other men that are now posted at the front door of your apartment. Each attempts a kind smile at you, and you're glad to shut the door on them once you get inside.

There's a man on your couch.

You don't notice until you flick the light switch on, but he's sitting there, clad in a suit and sunglasses. You shriek, and briefly consider whether or not your frozen ravioli could be used as a suitable projectile.

"Relax," The man stands, an easy smile on his face, one that drips with sympathy, "I'm Matt. I'm here to stand guard."

"Why were you sitting in the dark?!" You demand, now doubting the validity of the police badge you'd seen earlier, regretting the decision to trust these less-than-official men.

"It doesn't matter to me whether it's light or dark," He chuckles, and your face flushes momentarily when you realize what his sunglasses are for.

"Oh. Well- well you're not doing a very good job of making me relax, Matt. I feel like I'm more in danger of you than I am of someone else breaking into my house."

The man's smile is gentle, but not weak, "Sorry. Just go about your business, okay Y/N? We'll replace your damaged property and be out of your hair as soon as we can eliminate the threat.”

"Eliminate...?" You echo cautiously, "How long does that take?"

"Depends. A day. A week. Months, maybe. But this is all for your precaution, Y/N," He stands, making his way over to you and carefully feeling out the broken glass on the floor with the toe of his shoe. He places a hand on your shoulder, "Just trust me, I'm here to help. None of this will ever happen to you again- not on my watch."

[soursturniolo]

jealousy, jealousy • chris sturniolo

hc about a friends with benefits situation with chris where he gets jealous

suggestive-ish content (mention of sex, that’s it)

requested? yes! hope you like it!

- surprisingly, the friends with benefits situation between you and chris was pretty healthy in your opinion. you both were very clear on boundaries and the fact that you were, and always would be, best friends first. that was most important. you guys just also shared a bed some nights as well. it was to blow off steam, to feel good, and not be hooking up with randoms who couldn’t be trusted.

- the sex was incredible because of how comfortable you both were with each other. you guys could laugh and be yourselves and not be so consumed with trying to be sexy or hot. you could also be 100% open with what you liked and didn’t like.

- despite just being fwb, chris treated you to a lot of gf perks. as much as he seems like a player, with you he could never be that way. it was important to him you didn’t feel used; that you liked the situation just as much as he did, and felt respected and taken care of.

- never would just kick you out or imply that you needed to leave after hooking up. he was always there, offering you a clean T-shirt or hoodie and a pair of his boxers to sleep in, asking you if you just wanted to stay the night. any time you decided to not stay the rest of the night, he insisted on paying for your Uber home if you didn’t drive yourself over. he also insisted you text when you make it back home.

- one time when it was super late you forgot to text him you made it home and he was very quickly blowing up your phone until you responded. he does care a lot for you, you’re his best friend.

- still your bestest friend even though you were fucking, so of course you told him when you met a guy and was considering going on a date.

- chris was just suddenly filled with this,,, unsettled feeling?? like,,, why were you talking to other men? he hasn’t talked to any other woman in months, other than pleasant greetings or casual conversation. he has no reason to.

- you showed him the guys instagram and IMMEDIATELY this kid snatched your phone and was dragging this poor guys entire existence. his insta bio, his face, his poses, his post captions, the guys height even though chris doesn’t have much room to talk.

- anything chris could criticize, he was criticizing.

- “chris no he’s really nice!” “i don’t care if he’s the president you can do better!”

- you go back and forth for a bit arguing about this man, before you finally snap.

- “really chris? I can do better? where? with who?” “you can!” “with who?!” “someone!” “there’s no one else chris, no one else seems to want me!”

- he finally snaps.

- “there’s me! i want you! that guy looks like a dick and probably wouldn’t even treat you right and im literally right here, always have been!”

- you’re both quiet for a minute, looking at each other wide eyed.

- chris bites the bullet, looking away and finding interest in anything but your face when he speaks again

- “listen, i know that’s probably not what you want to hear from your friend with benefits but im sick of pretending i don’t care about you more than just-”

- before he can finish you’re grabbing his face and pulling him in for a kiss. he’s surprised at first but soon you’re both smiling against each others lips and laughing

- you guys stayed up that whole night talking, and realized that what you thought was a wonderful friendship and arrangement was just the foundation for a very happy relationship

[broomsick]

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore deity depictions made by artists online. However, it sometimes gets unsettling when deities whose aspects are centered around entirely nonviolent concepts are drawn as hyperviolent, warrior-type of characters. This is especially common in depictions of Norse deities. I can understand why this tendency would be, considering some of these depictions are made for promoting video games, and such. It’s plenty more surprising, however, when such drawings can be traced back to pagan sources. Now, this highlights a larger, more concerning issue: the general perception of Norse deities by pagan informational websites. It gets easy to distinguish between the pagan sources I want to look into and those I want to avoid, based on the general image of some deities that they choose to present. I know I’ve talked about this in the past, but if you spread information on Norse deities but depict them all as “warrior Gods”—by only relying on hyperviolent representations even in the case of more “peace-oriented” deities for example, it shows you don’t care to go deeper than your surface-level understanding of a mythological pantheon that’s filled with diverse figures and nuance. And it’s especially concerning when this type of perception is spread by websites that advertise themselves as being 100% factual and unbiased. These types of sources generally reduce deities to a fixed list of aspects (“This or that deity is the god of this, period”) and it doesn’t help new pagans at all to explore the pantheon and their own perception of it. (This tendency is especially common on New Age websites, as they also tend to put up lists of unmovable correspondences while reducing the importance of UPG and personal belief in deity associations.) It doesn’t spark skepticism, reflection or curiosity. Let me illustrate: if someone who’s questioning their spiritual path and considering becoming pagan sees a super intimidating and ferocious depiction of Óðinn, accompanied by the caption “He is the god of death and war:))” (implied: he is the god of mostly that), they will likely not consider right away other important aspects of Óðinn as a deity, such as his association with wisdom, poetry, the afterlife and other, vastly more nuanced elements of his myth. Websites who present hyperviolent depictions of pretty much all Norse deities, even in the case of Frø or Njörðr, more often than not have some sort of ties with the far right or even sometimes with white supremacy. At the top of my head, I could even name at least two folkish pagan websites I stumbled upon simply because I was baffled by the images they put up online and sought to see who’d commission such pictures. These sorts of website also tend to reduce deities to a handful of personality traits and this can lead new pagans to view them as entirely two-dimensional. It’s a dead giveaway for sources to avoid, in my opinion. If you are a new pagan who seeks to better understand a deity’s areas of influence and general personality, I would advise you to double-check sources, to keep researching and researching until you’ve consciously made your own opinion of them. Don’t right away believe the very first source you stumble upon. This is all a personal thought I’m trying to express as clearly as possible, and if any of you guys have anything to add, don’t hesitate to share your own thoughts and experiences! I would be delighted to hear about them.

[fryedgreentomatoes]

mother knows best

pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader You and Jake have been dancing around each other for months, will a slip of the tongue finally turn it into something more? a/n: if this is familiar that's because it was posted on my old blog before i had a manic episode and deactivated :D. anyway pls enjoy love y'all.

Warnings under the cut, minors DNI!!!

warnings: uh, smut? i haven't read this one in a while guys i have to admit. I think there's oral (m!receiving) and also fingering and then unprotected p in v sex.

“My mom thinks we’re dating.” the words were past your lips before you could even think twice about them and you swore internally, not even remotely prepared for the conversation that you were about to start. Jake swallows his whiskey hard, his throat moving with the action, and turns to you with wide eyes and raised brows. 

“Your mom thinks we’re what?” he sputters out between coughs and you roll your eyes and push the glass of water you’d ordered over to him. He accepts and takes a hearty swig from it. Drama queen. 

“You heard me, she thinks we’re dating.” you restate, swirling your straw in your vodka soda. The ice cubes clink together and you don’t look at Jake, though you can feel his eyes on you. You try to keep your tone and your words nonchalant, but inside your heartbeat has sped up and your hands are starting to tremble just a little bit. You really, really were not ready to have this conversation with Jake tonight, you have no idea why you started it. Especially because if you were honest, there was some definite merit to your mom’s thoughts.

 You and Jake had been dancing around each other for months now, pretty much from the moment you met. You’d shared a mutual friend with Jake and his brothers and one night you were introduced and it took off sprinting from there. You’d hit it off with his brothers well, but it was different with Jake. When your eyes had met during that first introduction you’d felt something click into place in your brain, something that said hey, you’ve been waiting for this person and here they are. Jake was shy in the beginning, but throughout the night you learned that he was witty and smart and passionate. The incessant flirting would come later. And the flirting could be found in the little things. It was the way his hands would linger whenever they touched you, the way his eyes found you immediately wherever you were, and the playful teasing and everpresent pet names. He was flirting, that you knew for sure, but what you weren’t sure of was if there was any substance behind it or if that was just what your friendship was. It was all very confusing and had led to many sleepless nights on your end, tossing and turning wide awake with a certain guitarist on your mind. 

“What did you tell her?” Jake’s question breaks you from your racing thoughts suddenly and you clear your throat and glance up at him, finding his gaze trained on you like there was no one else in the bar. Jake always looked at you like that, always made you feel like it was only the two of you in a room. It was slightly unsettling, but mostly endearing. You took a healthy sip of your drink straight from the glass, ignoring Jake’s chuckle at your obvious avoidance of the question. You put the now empty glass down with a soft thunk and wave the bartender down to ask for another, still pointedly not looking at the man next to you, “You have to answer me eventually, you know that, angel,” Jake prompts when you still don’t answer, poking you in the ribs with a smug sort of smirk pulling on his lips. You shoot him a withering look and take your fresh drink from the bartender, a new girl you hadn’t seen before and you and Jake were regulars at this particular bar. Despite his pestering, you knew that Jake would be okay if you took the rest of the night to answer his question, he was patient and kind like that. But you wouldn’t leave him hanging, you pushed your old drink to the edge of the bar for the bartender to grab and sighed to yourself, pulling at a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweater. 

“I told her no of course.” you finally reply and chance a look at Jake to find one of his dark brows arched and a smirk still on his face. You pull on the sleeves of your sweater and place your chin in your cupped palm, eyes trained on the baseball game on one of the tvs in front of you.  

Jake chuckles and takes a sip of his whiskey and coke, “Of course? Then what I have been putting the moves on you for-” he pauses and checks an imaginary watch, “8 months, 11 days, and 2 hours for?” he asks and you swing your gaze to his, chin still cupped in your palm and eyebrows raised. 

Unimpressed, you ask, “What kind of math is that?” and Jake laughs and shifts to face you where he’s standing next to you at the stool he’d snagged for you when you first got here. Always a gentleman, Jake was. 

“That’s what you’re objecting to? My math?” he questions and you move your gaze back to the tv in front of you just as a player hits a home run and a group at the end of the bar erupts in cheers. You shrug and nod noncommittally, your gaze sliding back to his when he nudges your hand with his. 

“Math is the backbone of our modern society.” you murmur and Jake rolls his eyes at you, reaching out and taking the hand not currently cupping your jaw in both of his. You feel a little shiver come over you at the feeling of Jake’s warm, calloused hands on yours as his fingers stroke over your palm and tangle with your own. He’s looking down with furrowed brows and a tight jaw at your conjoined hands, like he’s thinking about how to respond. You wait with slightly baited breath, watching him turn your hand over in his own. 

“We could be.” he finally speaks and you can’t help your breath catching, your fingers tightening against your cheek. You don’t know what to say back, you decide to play dumb. 

“Could be what?” you whisper and Jake looks up and meets your gaze, his brown eyes soft and molten. This has to be the second most terrifying moment of your life. The first was an unrelated skydiving incident you had let one of your old roommates talk you into that for your own sanity you like to pretend never happened. This? This moment now, with Jake holding your hand in his and looking at you the way he is, is a very, very close second. 

“Dating.” his voice is so steady and sure when he says it and you feel like you’re trembling like a wet chihuahua at the whole situation. He looks right at you when he says it, his eyes boring into yours and you can’t help but look away at the fierceness of it. However that feels worse and you return to the intensity in his. You now know that you’re shaking. You know this because Jake tells you that you are and you nod once, feel him squeeze your hand. 

You swallow the lump growing in your throat and let your hand drop from where it holds your chin, “Do you want to be?” you ask, again the words out of your mouth before you can think about them and if it’s possible, the intensity in Jake’s eyes grows. In addition, they flood with a heat that makes your thighs clench on your barstool. 

He leans closer to you, so close your breaths are practically shared and then he whispers directly into your ear, “Baby, you have no idea the things I want to do to you.” you shiver at his words, your eyes squeezing shut when Jake ghosts his lips over the shell of your ear as he pulls away. You track his every movement with your gaze, trace the veins in his forearms and his long fingers as he picks up his glass, watch his throat move with the swallowing of his drink. He knows you’re watching because you can see the smirk of his lips against the rim of the glass. 

“Jake.” you whisper his name and his eyes flick to yours, that heat still smoldering in them and you put your hand lightly on his forearm, “Take me home.” his eyes trace yours, searching for the meaning behind them and when he finds what he’s looking for, he turns from you and flags down the bartender, asks for the check. 

“Yes ma’am”

~~~~~~~~~

You can’t breathe the whole car ride back to your apartment, especially not when Jake reaches a hand over the center console and grips your thigh. Neither of you speak, but you could cut the tension in the air with a knife. Your head is spinning, you don’t know how you got here. This wasn’t what you planned to happen, this wasn’t how you saw this night going at all. How it was supposed to go was you and Jake barhop for a while, get tipsy, and then you go back to one of your places, put a few records on and end up passed out on one of your couches. Now you were literally speeding-because Jake is one of those drivers that thinks that speed limits are a suggestion-back to your apartment, where you’re going to end up having sex with one of your best friends. 

“You’re thinking too much.” Jake breaks the silence and stops your racing mind dead, you turn to him with what you know is a deer caught in headlights look and he chuckles and squeezes your thigh before he releases it, hand drifting back to the steering wheel, “I would never make you do something you don’t want to do, you know that,” he tells you and you nod, then you reach across the center console and take Jake’s right hand in yours and place it back on your thigh. 

“I know.” you say simply and Jake chuckles again, letting his hand rub the inside of your thigh just barely. In the back of your mind, you know that this was inevitable, those butterflies in your stomach made you fully aware that something, sometime had to happen. But you had no idea that he would feel the same way you did, that he was dancing around you the same way you were dancing around him. 

A surge of confidence overcomes you and you find that your hands are no longer shaking as you put your key into the lock of your door to your apartment, Jake’s hand on your hip as he moves your hair off your neck and presses a kiss to where it meets your shoulder. You pull him into your apartment and when the door closes, you push him back against it. A surprised huff comes from his chest and he looks at you with eyes slightly widened, but with that same intense heat that flooded them at the bar returned to them. 

You step toward him, shrug off your sweater, and take his hand in yours. You bring it down to the tie of your wrap dress and he takes your hint and pulls on it, the dress falling open and exposing you to him. You thanked your lucky stars that you were wearing something vaguely sexy, that at least your underwear was the same color as your bra. You shrug the dress off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor in a puddle of silk. You see him take a deep breath and squeeze his eyes shut. You take another step toward him, so that your chests are just barely pressed together, then you curve an arm around the back of his neck and pull his face down to yours, just short of pressing your lips against his and so that you can feel his breath ghosting over your lips. You hold him there for a few moments, long enough for his hands to press hesitantly against your hips and pull them a step closer to his; then, you close the distance and kiss him and from that very first moment you know that you’re lost. It’s a kiss like you’ve never had before, soft but firm and insistent and thank god, not too much tongue. He pulls you flush against his body, so that you can feel the bulge in his pants pressing against your bare skin. You snake a hand down between your bodies and palm him through his jeans, prompting a soft groan to fall from his lips and you pull away. You hear him audibly mourn the loss of your body contact, but his eyes follow you. 

“Let me help you.” you whisper and go to your knees in front of him, he tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls your gaze up to his, a question in his eyes and you know he’s asking if you’re sure, telling you that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. In response you press a hand against him again and his head falls back against the door, his breaths already coming in shallow pants. 

You take down his zipper and pop open the button on his pants, you pull them down his thighs just enough to limit his movement, swallowing when you see how big he is even through his boxer briefs. The hand not tangled into your hair reaches down to cup your cheek and you press a kiss against his palm, then you pull his briefs down his legs and let him spring free. “Oh wow.” you can’t help but breathe and you hear him breathe a laugh above you that turns into a groan when you take him in your hand and give him a few experimental pumps. Then you smile to yourself and take him in your mouth, swallow him down until he hits the back of your throat, relishing the guttural groan that it rips from him and the panting of your name. 

“God, you drive me crazy.” he laughs and his hand tightens its grip in your hair. You hum with him still deep in your throat and pull off of him, a lewd popping sound coming when your mouth leaves him. Without giving him any warning, you swallow him down again and then repeat, then do it again after that. The sounds you’re pulling from him are absolutely pornographic and you’re living for it, living for his mumbling incoherent curses with your name sprinkled in, living for the way he cries out when you lick a stripe up the bottom and swirl your tongue around the tip. His thighs begin to shake and his grip on your hair tightens as you work him. You love a good blowjob, especially when it’s someone like Jake, who pants and groans and cries out your name. 

Eventually, he pulls your mouth from him and you look up at him through your lashes, breathing heavily and your lips glossy with spit. He groans and fists his hand in your hair, “Don’t look at me like that.” he practically begs upon seeing your puppy dog look from him stopping you, “I can’t come before I’m inside you.” 

He reaches for your hands and pulls you back up to your feet, pressing his lips insistently to yours before you can even speak the word bedroom. This kiss is messy, tongue and teeth and heavy breaths, and you can’t help the little squeal that escapes you when he grips the back of your thighs and lifts you up off the ground. You wrap your legs around his hips and grind yourself down onto him and he hisses in a breath at the feeling. 

“I’m gonna fuck you so good.” he murmurs into your mouth and you whimper in response, pull on his shirt to get him to move. He carries you blindly toward your bedroom, lips latched onto yours and hands squeezing your hips where he’s holding you. 

He drops you gently onto your bed, following overtop of you as you push yourself up toward your pillows, your lips attached and moving together the whole way. He holds himself above you on his hands and your gazes meet, his pupils blown wide and his lips parted when he separates your mouths briefly. 

“Are you sure you want this?” he asks and you feel your whole body warm at his consideration, because you know that if you told him no, if you asked him to stop right now he would and you would still be friends the next morning. That wasn’t what you wanted though, what you wanted more than anything was him, just as you had from the moment your eyes first met. 

“I’ve wanted you from the moment we met and I want you now, Jakey,” you whisper, one of your hands reaching up and cupping his jaw, he leans into the touch and his eyes flutter shut and open again. He moves to his knees and pulls his shirt off and you take in the tan expanse of his skin, leaning up and pressing a kiss to his chest. He runs his hands through your hair, pulling your face up to meet his and then leaning down to slot your mouths together. His kiss is the easiest thing to get lost in, your mind going blank with nothing but thoughts of how perfect his mouth fits to yours. “Are you gonna fuck me, Jakey?” you murmur the words into his mouth, your fingers scraping down his torso and he shivers at both your words and the touch.

“You have no idea how badly I want to,” he replies, voice low and rasping and his fingers playing at the straps of your bra. You reach behind you and undo the clasps, letting it fall from your frame and tossing it to the side. His eyes are drawn immediately to the newly exposed skin, his gaze tracing hungrily over your breasts. You’ve never felt more desired than you do with Jake, never felt like you’re the only person in the world to someone. But you feel that way now, with the way his eyes trace your body and his tongue wets his lips. “You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers and you can’t help the whimper that sounds at the back of your throat at the words. At the noise his gaze flicks up to yours, a smirk twitching at his lips. 

He leans down and captures your mouth in his again, murmuring his next words right into your mouth, “You like when I talk pretty like that to you, baby? When I tell you you’re perfect?” he questions you and you whine low in your throat and nod feverishly, palms pressed to his biceps and nails digging into his skin. “God, you’re an angel, the sexiest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen,” he breathes, a small laugh coming breathlessly from him and you can only whimper again and press your mouths together. 

His fingers, those long, pretty things, trace down from your collarbone to between your breasts, ghosting over your stomach and stopping at your hips, playing with the hemline of your panties. He’s got you writhing under his touch without even breaking the kiss and he hasn’t even touched you where you crave it most yet. “Take them off, Jake,” you breathe, a note of desperation in your voice and he chuckles darkly at the sound, fingers dragging down your center over the lacy fabric, “Don’t tease, Jakey, please.”

Without any warning, he plunges his hand into your panties, spreading your folds and groaning at the wetness that’s gathered there, “Jesus, angel, you’re so fucking wet already,” he practically gasps the words out and you whine as his fingers swirl around your entrance and then wind tight circles into your clit. The touch makes you warm all over, but your muscles are every single one of them clenched and your hips are rising off the bed, pressing into the heel of his palm and circling against his touch, “So needy, so desperate for me. You want my fingers, pretty girl? I want you to come on them so I can lick them clean,” his words make you moan they’re so perfectly filthy, so beautifully dirty. His fingers continue with their glorious work and then suddenly they leave your aching clit, you almost mourn and plead at the action when he suddenly plunges two fingers inside of you, curling them just right in a way that has you arching off the bed and crying out. 

“God, Jakey, do that again, please,” you whine and he chuckles lowly, curling his fingers against your walls again, hitting a spot in you that you know you could never reach on your own, it belonged to him. You were panting and writhing under his touch, moaning and crying out his name as he worked you over with his fingers- those beautiful, magical fingers. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you sobbed, your body shaking and trembling, your thighs clenching, and your hands fisting the sheets as an orgasm came barreling towards you. Jake swore as you shook, his fingers curling inside you in a way that leaves your head spinning and his obscenities only sending you closer and closer to bliss. 

It only takes a few more curls of his fingers before your orgasm crashes through you, overwhelming every single one of your senses and every last nerve in your body. Your back arches off the bed and for a few blessed moments you experience a euphoria like you’ve never felt before this moment. Jake coaxes you down from your high, murmuring praises and pressing soft kisses to your hip bone and stomach. 

You rise up onto your elbows and lift a hand, running your fingers down the side of his face and tracing his bottom lip with your thumb. His eyes are molten as they meet yours, blown out with lust and longing and you reach for him. He takes your lead and crawls up your body, holding your gaze the whole way until his lips are on yours, kissing you soft but in a way that overwhelms you and leaves you needing so much more. 

“I believe you promised to lick these clean,” you hold up his hand, still slick with your release and his eyes darken even more as he brings his fingers up to his mouth, pushing them past his lips and licking them clean. You whimper at the sight and he smirks around his fingers, releasing them from his mouth with a lewd pop, “Can you fuck me now, Jakey, please?” 

In mere moments, your panties are down and off and Jake is pulling on his boxers, moving them down his legs and off onto the floor to be lost somewhere in the mess of strewn clothing. When you’re both left in equal states of undress, he returns to hover over you, his hands planted on either side of your face and his hips just barely pressed against yours. You can feel how hard he is where he lays pressed between your stomachs. You snake your hand down between your bodies, taking his bare, already pulsing cock in your hand and pumping a few times. He groans and his head drops to your shoulder as he watches your movements, his hips just barely thrusting into your hand. “Are you gonna let me inside you tonight, angel?” he murmurs into the skin of your neck, pressing wet, hot kisses there and you nod your head, the hand not still pumping him scratching down his back. 

“How do you want me, Jakey?” you rasp into his ear and he shivers above you, eyes still trained down on where your hand still works him over, thumb swirling around the head and making his hips jump in your hand, “You can have me anyway your pretty little heart desires, baby.”  

One of his hands shoots out to grab onto your wrist, stilling your hand’s movements and finally meeting your eyes again, a desperate, hungry gleam in his, “I want you just like this, so I can look at you while you fall apart on my cock,” he tells you and you exhale sharply, his dirty words slithering into the cracks of your brain and taking root there. You’ll be squeezing your legs together in public thinking of them in the future. 

“Fuck me, Jakey. Fuck me so good.” you mirror his words from earlier and without another word or plea, he pushes inside of you in one slow, solid thrust. You both cry out at the feeling, the intense pleasure it brings, and Jake stutters out a breath, meeting your gaze with his again, seeking permission before he moves. You can tell by how his arms shake that it’s taking everything in him not to just pound into you relentlessly until you scream and unravel like a loose thread underneath him. All it takes is one nod from you before he picks up a rhythm, something fast and punishing, something deep and hard. It has you both panting and you writhing beneath him, your legs falling open ever wider for his hips to have the room they need to slam recklessly into yours. 

“God, you feel like heaven, angel,” he groans and you lean up and lick a stripe up his chest, nipping at his chin with your teeth and clawing your hands down his biceps. He shakes at the actions, his pace faltering as you capture his mouth in yours, kissing him with all the passion you’ve had pent up for him in your body, “You’re just like I imagined you’d be, so fucking tight and warm and wet, wrapped around me and squeezing me so nice,” the words stumble out of him between pants and you let yourself fall back to the bed, fingers dancing along his jaw and pulling his gaze to yours.

“So you’ve imagined me before, Jakey?” you ask, voice surprisingly steady for the way your heart is racing in your chest and without even a trace of embarrassment he nods his head, reaching down to hook a leg higher around his hip and reach a spot even deeper inside you.

“Every goddamn night since I met you,” he informs you and your heart feels like it’s going to burst with sheer bliss and you smile, pulling him down and kissing him again.

“Me too.” you whisper into his mouth and with those words, his pace falters and he curses above you, reaching for both of your legs and placing your calves on his shoulders. The new position has him hitting a spot in you that has you crying out his name and fisting the sheets beside you. 

“I can’t last much longer, angel, ‘m so close.” he mumbles, his eyes watching your breasts as they bounce with every thrust and turning his head to press a kiss to your calf where it rests on his chest. You whine out his name as he hits that same spot with every thrust and you run your nails down his chest, clenching tight around him. He groans at the feeling, hair hanging down in a sweaty curtain around his face, “Don’t squeeze me like that, angel, I’ll come right now.” he warns. 

You push his hair from his face, tucking it behind his ears and pulling him down to your face, whimpering at the stretch in your legs it causes, “Go ahead, Jakey, go ahead and cum right inside me,” you command in a whisper and he doesn’t require anything more than that. He’s roaning and thrusting a few more times before his hips slam into yours a final time and he spills inside you, crying out your name inside a slew of obscenities. 

You’re both slick with sweat and panting as he lets your legs drop lifelessly down to the bed and promptly collapses on top of you with a groan. You laugh and comb your fingers through his damp hair, pressing a kiss to his temple and wrapping your legs around his waist. You quite deftly flip your bodies so that you’re straddling his hips and he’s sprawled beneath you, looking up at you awestruck and fucked out

“That was incredible, angel,” he huffs out a laugh and you giggle above him, tracing mindless patterns into the skin of his chest with your nails. You get a little shy at the thoughts that crowd into your brain, at what was once dirty talk now something you actually need to discuss. Jake catches onto your racing thoughts and rubs his thumbs soothingly over your hip bones, furrowing his brows up at you in worry, “What is it? What’s goin’ on up in that pretty brain of yours?”

You hesitate, searching deep for the confidence to have this conversation and eventually finding it, opening your mouth and asking him, “Did you mean what you said, you’ve imagined me before? Imagined us?” 

His brows stay furrowed and he nods slowly, “I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t true, angel. You’ve been all I can possibly think about from the moment I met you, I don’t want this to be a one time thing. I meant what I said at the bar too, we could be dating if that was what you wanted,” he finished and you could only sigh in defeat, causing him to raise a questioning brow at you, 

“I hate when my mother is right.”   

[thefrogdalorian]

Dincember Day 22: Cozy

Word Count: 855 Rating: General Summary: When Grogu wakes up upset in the middle of the night, both you and Din are concerned for him. But getting cozy and cuddling with his Clan soon brightens the little boy's mood. Content Warnings: Allusions to past trauma but nothing detailed! Author's Note: Oh to get cozy and cuddle with Din and Grogu. yEARN,, ING. Little shorter than my usual today because I had a busy (but very fun) day! Exchanging presents and catching up with friends always makes my heart so full at Christmas time. Hope you enjoyed this one! ♡

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

You opened your eyes and instantly realised that something was different, what exactly you weren’t quite sure of. It wasn’t until you reached a hand out and discovered an empty, somewhat cold spot next to you on the cot that you realised Din was not next to you. It was the first night you were spending together in the cabin that he had brought to you for a snowy getaway. You were about to leap out of bed and search for Din, momentarily fearful that something terrible had happened, when the door opened and revealed a familiar figure.

You noticed as Din shuffled into the room that he was carrying Grogu. You looked at Din concernedly, wondering why Grogu was with him. It was not uncommon for Grogu to make his way into your room sometimes after you had slept. The child was occasionally prone to nightmares and used his abilities with the Force to leap into your bed and nestle between you and Din for comfort. You never minded, but Din fetching him like this was rare.

“Sorry, he woke me up. I could hear him crying from his room,” Din offered as an explanation for both his absence and Grogu’s presence.

“You don’t have to apologise,” You replied, sitting up.

“I just didn’t mean to wake you,” Din said as he handed Grogu to you and clambered into bed beside you.

“It’s alright, Din. You didn’t wake me up when you left. I guess I woke up eventually because I realised you weren’t here. The cot didn’t feel as cozy,”  You reassured Din. Then you turned your attention towards the little boy in your arms who had apparently been upset: “What’s up with you, buddy?”

Grogu looked at you, his brow furrowed on his wrinkled head. His eyes were glassy from the tears he had seemingly been shedding. 

“I don’t know if he had a nightmare. Perhaps the change of scenery and coming somewhere new has unsettled him,” Din suggested.

“Perhaps,” You agreed. Sometimes the reality of being unable to communicate with Grogu in words made things extremely difficult on your emotions. It was precisely a time like this when you wished more than anything that you could speak to him, to know what was going on inside his little head. “Whatever it is, I think he needs lots of cuddles. Do you want to sleep in here tonight with me and your dad?” You asked Grogu.

The little boy nodded slowly, still looking at you with wide, sorrowful brown eyes. Your heart ached at such a sight; your ordinarily vibrant, cheeky boy was deeply upset for some unknown reason.

“Okay, little guy,” You soothed as you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead once again. 

Din lay back on the bed and you placed Grogu on his chest. The little boy shifted so he was nestled in the spot between his father's neck and shoulder. Din rubbed soothing circles on Grogu’s tiny back; you watched them fondly for a second, before you joined Din lying down. You positioned yourself on Din’s chest too, sighing happily when his arms wrapped around your waist as your cheek rested on his broad chest. You reached down to pull the blankets around your little Clan so you were all warm and comfortable, bundled up tightly from the horrors outside. 

You heard a rustling next to you, watching as Grogu positioned himself closer to you so he was lying on Din’s chest, rather than nestled in the crook of his neck. You looked at Grogu, watching closely for any signs of discomfort on his face. But it seemed that a little time cuddling with you and Din had done wonders to soothe whatever anxieties he had. Fortunately, Grogu looked a lot happier. Knowing that he was warm and safe on his father's chest and cuddled up next to you, who cared for him just as deeply. 

“Goodnight, Grogu,” You whispered as his enormous lids began to droop over his equally sizable eyes.

Seeing the upturn in Grogu’s demeanour meant that you could enjoy the coziness of the moment. Lying here in Din’s arms, knowing that you were comfy and snug underneath the layers of blankets from anything that lay outside was incredibly reassuring. You both knew pieces of Grogu’s life, things that he had been through that were more than any child should ever have to experience. But he had found a home, a safe haven and parents who loved him very much. Against all odds, Grogu had found sanctuary with you and Din, two people who had endured many trials and tribulations too. You felt incredibly lucky to have the two of them and that you had somehow, in a galaxy so vast, ended up by each other's side.

Your cheek rested on Din’s firm chest and you sighed contentedly as you listened to the reassuring, steady beats of his heart and the shallow, even breaths coming from Grogu, who was nestled beside you. With the weight of the blankets and your Clan by your side, you were certain that you had never felt more cozy. 

[elisysd]

3. Wonder why you took a risk on a broken heart you cannot fix

Masterlist - Previously - Next

Chapter soundtrack: Purple Irises - Gwen Stefani, Blake Shelton 

Another DNF. On a track he loved and had witnessed him achieving great performances. But now, being out after not even a corner, it was painful. He knew he couldn’t have done anything to avoid it but still, it was a bitter feeling. And a feeling that didn’t go away when he saw you waiting for him, your mic ready. He hadn’t talked to you ever since that day at the restaurant, didn’t ask for your number, didn’t ask for your social media, didn’t ask for anything and a part of him regretted it. Kind of. He had promised to show you not everyone was untrustworthy but didn’t even think to ask for a means to contact you. He knew it was stupid but he hated empty promises. He was man of his word and to think he could let you down like everybody else was unsettling for him. 

He moved to you, Silvia by his side and gulped, bracing himself for a petty question that surprisingly didn’t come through.

“A very sad day for you Charles, can you tell us what happened with Lance?”

“I don’t know, I haven’t been able to watch the images yet but I guess he thought he had space and clearly, it was not the case.”

“Two DNF in three races, it’s not the start of the season you hoped it would be. What are your plans for now?”

“See what went wrong and try to learn from it with the team. That’s the best we can do and we will come back stronger next time.”

“Thank you Charles.”

As she was cutting her microphone he saw you looking at him.

“I’m sorry about the race. Truly.”

“No teasing this time?” he asked, surprised.

“I’m not a heartless monster.” you replied as Silvia pushed him to go talk to other media.

The meeting with her team went nice. They talked a bit about race, debriefing each other's interventions of the day and looked at what they should have done better. You were happy when Marion told you that you had improved, your questions sharper and more precise, and happy, you had decided to wander the paddock in search of new information or to meet interesting new people. That is something you’ve always liked to do, hanging out somewhere to get the atmosphere and to have conversations with people who could provide you with new enlightenments about contracts, performances or any changes inside the teams. You had learned it while being in New-York, during one of your internships while you were covering  basketball games where your boss had told you to let your ears wander. A few words that you were clinging onto. Near the Mercedes hospitality, you had not expected to run into Mick who was coming out of it, a bottle of water in his hands. Out of habits you smiled at him, giving him a little nod which he took as an invitation to talk to you.

“Hey! I saw you around, right? The new interviewer for French TV?”

“That should be me, yes. Y/N, nice to meet you.” you greet him.

You found it surprisingly easy to talk to Mick. The discussion flowed, laughter could be heard from the other side of the paddock and soon the sun was setting. He was friendly, caring, and offered her to sit somewhere so they didn’t have to stand in the middle of the way.

“You know, I’m going to a bowling place tonight with some friends. Do you want to tag along?”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure it’s very professional of me.” 

“No pressure, of course. The offer stands but we all need to let go from time to time.” he added, winking at you before leaving.

You spent another half an hour debating with yourself on whether or not you should go. You could use some friends for sure, and Mick is not a bad guy, you know it.  He doesn’t have any hidden agenda behind his kindness, he just genuinely wants to get to know you and be your friend. And you saw how some journalists are buddy-buddy with the drivers, including in your own team. So why couldn’t you? You took a deep breath and decided that for once, you would have fun. And it had been a while since you had gone to a bowling area. You quickly went back to your hotel room to change into more comfortable clothes and you met Mick there. You recognised Esteban there as well and you were not surprised, you knew the two drivers were closed. 

You had fun. More fun than what you expected coming here. You sucked at bowling but it didn’t stop you from laughing. You also enjoyed Esteban’s calm confidence and how laid back he was. You told him you felt sorry about his crash with Pierre, Alpine could have realized something amazing out there.

“I know, I’m gutted. It’s not the start of the season we hoped it would be, for sure. But the season is long, so we have time to improve.”

“I’m sure it will keep on being better, Esteban. Trust your team.” Mick said, coming to them, a grin on his face. He sat down next to you before turning his head in your direction. “I’m glad you decided to come. I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I’m happy I did, it’s been a while since I’ve felt this relaxed.” you confessed. “I don’t have many friends, I’m not good at making connections.”

“Well you have us, now.” Mick shrugged.

“Aren’t you afraid that I’ll betray you?”

“Do you intend to?”

“No.” you admitted after a few seconds.

“Then it’s all good.” he smiled.

“You trust people easily, you know. A little too easily.”

“A few years ago, I wasn’t like that. I was doubting everyone and everything. I thought people only wanted to be around me because of my dad and not because of me. And then I decided to stop caring because usually those people end up leaving at the first obstacle. It’s better to give people a chance than being closed off. My friends are basically my second family, my home away from home. I’m a family guy, it’s tough for me to be away from them, so that’s why my friends are so important.”

“I’m not that close to my family.” you confessed and your heart wrenched at the thought.

“Because of your job?”

“That and I made a few mistakes in the past that really altered our relationship. And a lot of regrets, mostly about my brother. When you’re halfway across the world, it’s tough to be there when he needs you most. I should have been there for him.”

“It’s never too late to fix things.”

You gave him a sad smile and a shrug. You don’t want to bother him with your complicated family’s stories. And frankly, you don’t want to think about them.

“I understand you know, the regrets. I have so many when I think about my dad. I’ve never told him I loved him enough,  I should have told him everyday. I even regret things that are so far ahead in the future, like my wedding, my first kid… I often think about how he won’t be completely there to see all of that.” he bitterly said. 

“At least he is there. Even if it’s not how you want it.”

“I guess.”

When you ended up leaving, after this very heartfelt conversation, you felt somehow relieved. Maybe he was right, you didn’t have to assume the worst about people. You took your phone out of your pocket and looked at your lock screen. A picture of you and your brother. You smiled tenderly, you missed him. 

Coming back to Paris and to your flat felt weird after such magical weeks. The gloomy weather made you regret the sun on your skin and you definitely didn’t miss the messy public transportation. Your days were filled with preparing the next races, organizing a few livestreams here and there where you invited fans to talk about the first few races of the season. And thanks to your connection at Alpine and the good relationship you had started to build with the drivers you even managed to get an interview from Pierre where you get to talk about his first weeks in his new team. It had been a nice and chill discussion more than an interview and you were happy to see that people had liked the concept and hoped you would keep it going with other people.

Despite how happy you were feeling about your week, it had still been a busy one and you couldn’t wait to go home and hop in your shower to relax before going out again to meet your best friend in a nice parisian restaurant. You arrived earlier than her and got to your table as the waiter gave you the menu and asked if you wanted to drink something. You ordered a Martini and started to wait for her, scrolling on your phone to pass the time. But as if fate had decided to play with you tonight, right when you decided to lift your chin, you saw him entering the restaurant. Charles Leclerc. And in good company if you could judge by the brunette walking right behind him. A date you thought to yourself. You unconsciously sat further down in your seat in hope he wouldn’t recognise you. You couldn’t help but give him little glances, your curiosity getting the best out of you. It didn’t last long, though, as your friend soon arrived and Charles wasn’t in your mind anymore.

“You have so many things to tell me and I have so many questions for you!”

You laughed. She has always been your number one supporter no matter what you were going through in your life. You didn’t expect anything else from her. Happily, you told her everything, even the slightest detail.

“So, who is the hottest? And is there anyone who is single?” she whispered to you as if you were both part of a gigantic conspiracy.

“I don’t know, I don’t really think about it. And I don’t have the mental space for that.”

She knew what you were implying. She knew all too well. She put a hand on yours and squeezed it gently before diverting the discussion to a lighter topic. The conversation flowed until your friend received a call. She quickly apologized to take it in a quieter space and came back a few minutes later, biting her lip, visibly worried.

“I got a call from my mom… my grandmother fell at home and she hit her head. She is at the hospital… I’m sorry I have to cut our dinner short, but…”

“Dont. I understand. Go.” you reassured her as she threw her arms around you and kissed your cheek before making her way out.

He was fed up. Clearly, he was not having the time of his life. The girl right in front of him had been sent by Ferrari and Silvia in another attempt to set him up with someone. No pressure, she had told him, she just wanted him to meet her and who knows? Maybe they would hit it off. And if it wasn’t the case, then she would leave him alone. For now. So he had agreed, a few weeks of peace seemed like a good option.

But he was bored out of his mind. The girl, who seemed nice, he had nothing against her, was agreeing to everything he was saying and was waiting for him to hold the conversation. He hated that. He needed someone who could challenge him, someone who didn’t care about who he was and clearly the brunette in front of him wasn’t what he wanted. They weren’t even at the main course that she had already mentioned the growth of her following and the new opportunities being seen with him would bring her, if they decided to date. He hated it. And he didn’t intend to spend one more minute in her presence. When the waiter came to take their order, he looked him straight in the eyes.

“You know, come to think of it, I’m not hungry. Can I have the bill instead?”

He knew it was a dick move, and if his mother would hear of it she would most certainly give him an earful. But it would still be more enjoyable than sitting there. He apologized, quickly made sure that the girl knew he had no interest in going out with her another day and made his way out to pay. That’s when he noticed you, alone, sipping on your drink. He could laugh. Out of all places, he had to cross your path. As if acting on their own, his feet carried him to your table.

“Fancy, seeing you here.” he said, making you look up. He expected to see a surprised look on your face but it wasn’t the case. You didn’t take your eyes off of him, making him slightly uncomfortable. “What are you doing here, all alone? A date who hasn’t shown up?”

“I was supposed to meet my friend but she couldn’t stay for long, an emergency came up. So here I am, sipping my drink, alone. It’s okay. I’m enjoying my very own company. And that very tasteful assortment of pastries. I most likely won’t be able to eat that alone, though.” you shrugged, putting a piece of chocolate cake in your mouth.

“You know, I’m in a mood for sweet… care to share?”

You were about to offer him to sit with you when he quickly recalled that his date was still there.

“Actually, would you mind getting a doggy bag and going elsewhere to eat? I kind of want to get the hell out of here.”

“Your date wasn’t that good, I assume then.” you said as a matter of fact.

“How did you…”

“I have eyes. I saw you.”

“You saw me…” he repeated, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I was facing the door.”

And suddenly he felt stupid about trying to see a deeper meaning in her words than what she intended to.

Out of the restaurant, they both wandered along the docks, enjoying the fresh air and the almost empty streets, the bag of cakes between them as they were sharing in a natural way. Almost as if they had done it all their life. Charles told her all about his very bad date and enjoyed making her laugh.

“Glad to see my very poor and inexistent love life is entertaining.” he smiled.

“It really is. I mean, look at you. You have the fame, the money, the good looks you could have anyone you wanted and here you are, having the exact same issues as us common people.”

“Believe it or not, but dating has become harder and harder the more famous I become. Whatever that means. We are all searching for the same thing, at the end of the day and famous or not. We want someone to complete us. Someone we feel good with.”

“Yeah, it’s not easy to find.”

“Clearly not.”

They kept walking in silence, enjoying each other’s company.

“I’m shocked you don’t try to pry or snoop around. You could ask so many questions about the season and try to get insides… but you don’t. Why?”

“I’m outside of my job hours. Right now, I’m just Y/N and not Y/N the very insufferable journalist. And you hate my questions, it’s me who should be shocked that you want to hear them.”

“I don’t hate them, I just don’t understand why I seem to be the only one to be on the receiving end of your bluntness. Every freaking time.” he defended himself.

You let out a sigh.

“They are legitimate questions and they are always validated by the team before being asked, if something was out of line they would tell me and I wouldn’t ask them.” you simply said.

Charles felt that there must be something else, something she wasn’t saying but they didn’t know each other well enough for him to dare ask her. From the corner of his eye, he saw her repressing a yawn.

“It’s late, do you need someone to drive you back home safely?” he asked.

“No.” she immediately said. “I mean, it’s kind of you, really. This whole hour talking felt nice but I’m not sure it’s something that should have happened. I know I can make friends with drivers, and some journalists do it, but I don't think I can, personally. That’s just not how it works for me. It would make my job harder and I need a clear mind to focus.” you tried to explain, perfectly aware of how hypocritical you sound.

“Do you say the same things to all drivers or do I receive special treatment?”

You opened and closed your mouth. You didn’t want to lie to him and somehow he read it in your eyes that it’s not that you didn’t want to have friends among the drivers. You just didn’t want to be his friend. And somehow it hurt more than what he expected.

Author's note: Happy first GP of the season! To celebrate it, here's the new chapter! I hope you liked it.

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