#adding that so i can find this fucker in the future as needed

[queenbananly]

Nina Fire Emblem Essay

It's long and I'm putting it under the cut. It's projection time baby. My credentials are I have one of the largest collections of Nina merch (mostly fan made, but I do have all official merch as well) and have been collecting it for at least the last six years.

Fire Emblem’s success in its iconic characters is in large part due to the artistry in not finishing a majority of the characters. By giving each character one or two ‘tropes’ or traditional story lines, and then adding in two to five smaller characteristic decisions or facts, it is a skeleton on which fans can theorize missing backstory pieces, the threads that connect different parts of the character together, what a fully developed version of the character may look like, and most importantly: give plenty of room for head canons or projection. 

We start here because it is important to be up front in this character essay that while I will be citing quotes and scripts of the game, a lot of the connecting threads are my personal projections and interpretations on Nina from Fire Emblem: Fates. I aim to focus on what exists in canon to fully capture everything I see in her, but a Fire Emblem character becomes very little without a personal interpretation. 

The two tropes that cover Nina’s character are very different, but fit together in some unfortunate ways. The first is a strong moral compass that has her chasing after the ideals of a Robinhood. Ideals that lead to learning how to steal, spy, and memorize information. Which when connected with her second characteristic, creates a lot of uncomfortable feelings in fans. Nina is a teenager who has fujoshi tendencies, that the game tends to focus on to keep a light hearted and comedic air about itself. If those jokes sour the taste of a player, and some of them are pretty bland or tasteless, it’s easy to miss the other snippets of personality present. 

Loneliness reaches around Nina’s character deeply, in a way that can only really be discussed by pointing out a lot of support conversations and threading them together with generally accepted human reactions, projections, and assumptions. She clings to others relationships and stories but often ruins her own or becomes afraid of connecting deeply with others. Her childhood in the Deeprealms made her resent her father, and though she mostly talks about hating him, anyone who’s been a teen or knows teens can see those comments as a surface level veil to hide pain. In that way Nina is someone who talks about the pain of the Deeprealms the most, while also talking about her own personal feelings on the matter the least. 

In her paralogue, when she calls her father a villain and tells him to ‘do what he must’, she’s playing a part. Honestly, despite her insistence on assuming her father’s stance, a majority of her paralogue is spent with her head in idealistic clouds, like she’s inside of a story or play. It could be argued that this is because it’s her first big heist, considering she tells Niles:

Nina: I've dreamed about this, Father. Draining the coffers of the wealthy! Vindicating the poor! We're getting what we need, and then getting out.

That said, it wasn’t all delusion and play when she assumes her father will punish her severely. She says multiple times he’s only visited her a few times, that she feels she doesn't know him. When he asks why she would throw her life away, why she acts like he has never cared for her, she shouts back:

Nina: Because I wasn't worth your time!

A thought that is very clearly felt by a lot of the second generation kids in Fates- but Nina is one of the few to say it loudly and directly into her parents face especially repeatedly. He argues that his world is unsafe and he wouldn’t survive if something had happened to her. So as punishment, she must now join the war effort. The game pushes to convince us that this is the answer- because how else will she become playable? If Niles can keep an eye on his daughter, plus the second parent the player chose for her, and all the other characters in this game, well… that’s safer than her wandering the countryside as a thief. Which she really is! Her paralogue takes place in a part of Nohr we do not visit at any other point in the game. The closest map point to it is the Dragon’s Gate (aka the portal to your DLC). So it seems reasonable to say that in her efforts to steal she knew what she was doing- she’d been avoiding the war effort. If this game took her efforts more seriously it’d be worth digging into the fact that the paralogue’s plot revolves around the Lord she’s stealing from calling in a favor and this army main force coming in to help, despite being so out of their way. (Link to Serenes Forest’s map of Fates in my citations for easy viewing).

Once she’s joined the army it’s time for her to largely be a gag character, talking mostly about men and their potential relationships. However, it’s still hard to break away from the fact that at her core, Nina is a very basic teenage girl. She has a short fuse and thinks she understands the world but struggles to actually say what she means often. Instead of facing that struggle she’d rather focus on daydreaming about relationships- rarely her own though, because that would be too personal and uncomfortable. From my personal interpretation and reaching, that loneliness is part of the reason her Robin Hood beliefs don’t come up very often post-recruitment.

Being open about something you believe in so strongly is hard, especially when it’s with people you feel you don’t belong with. Nina actively struggles especially in her friendships with men, and in large part that’s due to her hobby of ‘people watching’, or shipping people who surround her. Her supports with Percy and Ignatius are the clearest examples of her struggles to communicate, where in one she fumbles to apologize after lashing out defensively and in the other she gets caught in her fantasies and is constantly scrambling to cover herself. In the Ignatius A Support he even calls her out on exactly that, leading to this exchange:

Ignatius: I think I understand you better now. I was wondering why you were always so rude to me. But it's starting to make sense. You're just really, really bad at talking to people, aren't you?

Nina: Er, ah, well, maaaybe with SOME people... Like...men people, mostly.

If her struggles stem from her hobbies, which evidence suggests they do since that’s when she gets the most upset and lashes out, then it makes sense men are especially a problem for her. When you spend all day sexualizing a body type with the gusto of puberty, anyone with said body type will immediately be harder to deal with. In her Mother support she will even link these two together herself:

Nina: Well, I suppose things can't get any worse... I...I have a hard time talking to guys. But I think about them all the time! I feel like such a freak. Like they know that I'm thinking about them... And I just clam up and turn red. It's so awful! 

Considering that, it does make sense she’s never comfortable with Shiro, Siegbert, or anyone like them when it comes to discussing her morals and values and how they relate to thievery. In her Siegbert support she spends most of her time playing a very passive role, humoring Siegbert and letting him stumble his way through misunderstanding her intentions because she feels unable to intervene or get a word in quickly enough. It’s a support where she is on all accounts fully successful at hiding her hobby from the other person. Meanwhile with Shiro, her hobby comes out into the open from the start due to his stubbornness at being left out of a good time (seeing a play in the town plaza). By catching her fully in her element he sees her at what she considers her worst, and because of that their support remains very far away from their roles as a prince and a thief. She even calls him “Mr. Loud-Snorting- Hooting-Guffaw-Man” before turning tail and running at the first sign of him taking her interests seriously. She struggles to believe there’s anything of value in her perspective of the story, but the support ends with one of those friendships that you as a player can actually believe lasts beyond the support line. Honestly the difference between these two crown prince supports stems from the biggest issue Shiro has- he just found out he was a prince upon recruitment and thus doesn’t expect anyone else to treat him like one or really want that.

That’s enough about men who are not Nina though. To turn to her two supports that most heavily talk about her morals instead, we find two very different characters. Her father, Niles, and tiny baby bean Kana. The first part of her Niles support unlocks with her recruitment, meaning it is what most players will read first and it can be assumed that this support is meant to be the stepping stones into what to expect from her characterization. They fight almost the entire support line, starting with Nina pointing out again to him his hypocrisy in telling her not to steal when his class is also a Thief and matches his backstory, and how it feels like he only cares about what she does now that it's convenient for him. How she hates that now that she’s close he bothers to tease her with “I love you’s” and innuendo’s, and comment on her stealing. Though not said aloud, there’s an implied question in her accusation that asks if this is all so important to you, if I’m important to you, why couldn’t you visit more? Why did I have to suffer in my loneliness? To which ends the B support, suggesting Niles needs at least the timespan of two support conversations to wrap his head around his next words to her. When he finally approaches, serious this time, he opens up about his actual backstory. Yes his class is thief, and he’s good at what he does, but wants better for her. As he puts it:

Niles: You say you only steal for the greater good—that you're doing the right thing. But whatever your reasons, I don't want you doing the things I had to. Rather than the dark road I was set down... I want your path to be clear and bright. That's all any parent wants for their child. 

Nina struggles with this and takes it in, biting down her tongue on fighting about the why’s. Really, she gets what she needs from this support- her father apologizing to her, recognizing how poorly he messed up, and agreeing to treat her like an adult from henceforth. In subtext they’ve agreed to leave the moral debates to the side and try to act a bit more like a father and daughter.

Which is great! For a girl who’s loneliness can be seen a mile away, she needs this. It’s sad in the realm of exploring her stealing though. Niles is a retainer for a Prince, so he probably has better articulated arguments against what she’s doing than the game allows due to story and mood constraints. However she does get another support to talk about it with a bit more of a level head, less on the defensive overall. In her support with a non-sibling Kana, he asks about her stealing and she encourages him to not copy her behavior when he asks why she steals if his parents say it’s bad to do. Some of the thoughts she presents are a bit too big for the small boy, but give the player insight to what she might be thinking on a more day-to-day clear headed basis:

Nina: No, no, it's OK. You're right—stealing is wrong. But the world's a complex place. Some things are less wrong than others. Sometimes just doing things that look right will make the world worse. You know? 

She emphasizes this again and again in this support- the idea that doing nothing is sometimes the wrong answer. Even then she’s always encouraging Kana to stick up for what he believes in and to listen to his parents. The support eventually shifts away to talking about her and her dads relationship- but not without first hitting on a beat of her loneliness oh so briefly. Kana asks her about the pile of letters she’s holding, and this is one of the only times we ever learn that she gets letters with updates from people she’s personally helped. While earlier I suggested her paralogue was her first big heist, it’s plainly clear that she’s been following this path for awhile. The connections she’s made from helping people and the care she shows in wanting to make sure they’re still well speaks of her character and her ability to be kind and thoughtful. Which makes sense- because her morals align with thinking of others. While she’s thinking of others, she’s also looking at this small child that is Kana and telling him to never copy what she does. It is kind, but it builds a lonely path for her alone.

That loneliness is exactly what enables Kana to so bluntly call her out in the A support- because while I can argue that Nina struggles intensely with loneliness, Kana’s whole character is built on loneliness. The only difference between them is Nina is older and has already built up systems she feels protects her, while he’s younger and just an incredibly anxious child. This is when we move more into talking about Nina and her dad. Having come up previously, Kana confronts her and says he’s sad she doesn’t have a good relationship with him. They seem to have a lot in common even if they don’t see eye to eye. He even suggests to her his hypothesis- that she wasn’t born a thief, she became one to be more like her dad. That she respects him and wants his approval, and that’s the core of her arguments with him. After being presented with this all Nina can do is sigh and call him perceptive.

Kana is the only one who can see this. Not even Niles can. That’s because Kana himself feels the need to be perceptive. Anxious about being left alone, he needs to know how others might be feeling. Not only for his own needs, but because Kana truly does not want any of his friends to feel alone either. Though I’ve largely been skimming S-Supports for convenience- because only one can exist in each universe and some feel more of a stretch than others- it’s important for me to point out in the S-Support with Kana, Nina finally let’s herself share some of her anxieties with him. She admits to thinking about him growing up, and wonders out loud if they’ll be friends forever or if he’ll change. With that, Kana makes a very serious Kana-promise that even if he does change their friendship will remain.

The feeling of loneliness continues to permeate looking into her other conversations and looking at how badly she reacts when her guy friends are forced to witness what she considers the worst part of herself. With this I turn our direction to her support with Forrest, where it’s easy to argue she shows her worst self. Part of this I will blame on the writing staff- because a lot of people are their worst selves to him specifically. However, instead of always blaming the writing staff for it, it’s also more productive to do character analysis to see what can be pulled from the support. Finding herself far more comfortable talking to Forrest than the average guy, she doesn’t hold herself to any of her usual barriers and lets herself over fantasize in front of him. She’s so deep in her dreams that she ignores that the C Support ends with him gently calling her out, and saying she’s being creepy. Instead she continues on her march, singing about him aloud and when confronted, giving a half shrug of an explanation. Normally she’d be hyper defensive, but here her excuse is so uncreative Forrest finds himself saying “Really. Really?” at her nonsense.

In the A Support we reach the height of her fantasies, and she directly asks him about his taste in men. She struggles to say things bluntly when it comes to asking if he’s gay but has no problem she sees him more as a ‘girl friend’ than a guy friend. When Forrest apologizes that he’s not and doesn’t seem to be who Nina wants him to be, she immediately breaks. Realizing she’s been not present for most of this support line, dancing in her own head of fantasies, her reaction is to start sobbing. To be honest the support itself is emotional whiplash, to which I give credit again to the writers as an A Support is supposed to end on a good note to prepare for the S Support so despite sobbing and having this breaking moment they end up better friends within the span of 10 dialogue lines. Anywhere else this might’ve been more drawn out or a longer conversation. Her sobbing speaks to many aspects of her-  her kindness, her loneliness, and her anxiety. She truly cares for Forrest and considers him a friend, but she’s also incredibly scared of her interests and hobbies being the reason someone wouldn’t want to be her friend. Realizing that she’s had the situation wrong this entire time, she shatters at the horror that she’s let herself go this far. Even when Forrest forgives her she starts to fantasize again immediately- but this time she’s more present and aware, and snaps herself out of it. 

Nina’s character tropes might be a robin hood and a fujoshi, but the deeprealms colors the rest of her in with the loneliness and trauma. As a character she is filled with passion that she doesn’t know what to do with, and kindness that extends past each robbery she commits. However, outside the game it should be noted that the WAY she engages with the fujoshi trope is uncomfortable to many, and that it is especially uncomfortable as a character born only when one of the two canon bisexual characters in the game marries a woman. This essay can express my love but it cannot undo real harm gay men have gone through in being sexualized by people in their life. Nor should it ever undo harm. If you leave this essay seeing the other aspects of Nina’s character, yet unable to disconnect yourself from the discomfort of how she acts around men in her actual life and the way she seems obsessed with them, that’s completely understandable.

If one might lend me their ear one last time. I’d argue that when I look at all of these characteristics of her and pull them together, she’s not just a cisgender straight girl looking at men who she’d secretly rather have interested in her than each other. Earlier, I mentioned that by focusing on the relationship between two men she can deflect from herself and her own relationships and feelings because she is not a man herself. However, I’d push that line further and say she has no sexual or romantic interest in men herself. Even if she does not realize it, even if she fights with Soleil about if women are attractive, what I see in her is someone who wants so badly to be normal in at least one aspect of her life. Being straight is seen as normal, and oversexualizing a man’s body to a comedic aspect (at least to an outsider's perspective) often be a coping habit to someone who has yet to realize they don’t actually like men. The overperformance often comes only from observations and not reality. By which I mean, if advertisements and books and casual chatter suggest to you a man is most handsome when his muscles are bulking and sweaty you may just take that notion and run with it. Force yourself to like it in an attempt to be normal. By doing this, but at the same time turning away from heterosexual relationships in her fantasies, she’s able to do multiple things subconsciously. Force herself into liking these aspects of a man, and play out scenarios of gay love constantly. The way she hunts for clandestine romances speaks to me personally of a subconscious anxiety that lays next to her anxiety stemming from loneliness. If she were to be gay, does she see it as something that must be kept secret for her to still be accepted? This part is one that may change depending on my readers' views on Nohr and Hoshido. While the game gives us a bisexual option from each country, it’s not heavily talked about anywhere if it’s readily accepted. In fact it’s easy to take Forrest’s paralogue, where Leo gets a Bad Dad award, as a sign that maybe the answer is no. 

Nina could feel incredibly lonely in a world where maybe it would not be accepted for her to be gay. Alternatively she may feel like she doesn’t deserve that kind of love and happiness. As much as I’m adding my own perspective by bringing both points up it’s hard to ignore that when writing the game they seemed to heavily side step the issue that gay marriage is still a very political issue and just did not speak on it. I personally lean towards her residing in a homophobic culture, or at least one where she can’t imagine herself being accepted for being gay. 

I end the essay here on the part where I push my own life onto Nina because while I could pick apart each support, this is already 6 pages of Google Docs. Perhaps in the future I can come back and write more- like her support with Caeldori or Asugi- but to leave people with what I’ve come with today is enough for me. Whether her being a lesbian (although seemingly in denial) is something you the reader can see or whether you think it’s over projection, I hope you can recognize the merit in the rest as a means to pick at her character beyond the surface level gag.

*

This Isn’t How Citations Work But This Is A Fire Emblem Essay Fuck You

Note: All supports can be found at https://wiki.serenesforest.net/index.php/Fates_Supports/Nina and the script for her paralogue can be found at https://fireemblem.fandom.com/wiki/Abrupt_Clash/Script 

Map of Fates shown here. Nina’s Paralogue is the location listed as “Fancy Estate”: https://serenesforest.net/wp-content/uploads/2016/02/fates-map-revelation.jpg

[mysteriouslybluepirate]

Watching Con O'Neill's old stuff cause it's fun. Day #? Soldier Soldier S06 EP.09 Asking for it (Con's Conography. 1996)

In future if you want to read all of these posts, I've added the tag 'Con's Conography'. Now they're all in one nice spot!

Warnings for: Sexual assault/rape (committed by Con's character), abuse of power within the military structure, assault, abuse of power, sexist comments(what you would expect from the military).

Should I watch this before reading this? Is it worth it?:

Con plays a military official who abuses his station, sexually assaults a female private under his care, and semi-gets away with it with barely a scuff on the wrist in the end.

It's a really fucking good story about how women are treated in the military. Especially victims of sexual assault. He uses his power to try to get her kicked out. When that fails, he knows they're onto him. Without much evidence, he can't be prosecuted so he asks for a transfer, which he receives. He's not a repeat offender, his first assault happens mid-way through the episode, but he's a fucking jackass who couldn't take no for an answer. They give him internal reasons why he thinks he didn't go too far, and it is very real. If you're still interested, watch it.

Again, cause I went into this fully blind I will be saying whoreish things about Con. If you just look at his costumes, he has some 'hot' ones in this if you don't know what he does. If you look up Soldier Soldier a good chunk of it is people rebloging hot photos/gifs of Con without context.

He did this 1 year after Scarborough Ahoy and basically has a shorter haircut. Still in the 'hot young Con era'. They literally throw him into a pool fully clothed for fucks sake. After the scene happens, my tune changes. I promise. Again, they don't define him as a man with a history of assault, but Con's character is definitely the type to think 'I only fucked up once, I'm still a good person.' just fucking gross.

If it's too much skip around my live reaction and jump to the end for my final thoughts.

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

So, military. Should have guessed based on that title. This intro is very 80s for the 90s. If they kill anyone I'll kind of be surprised.

CON! IMMEDIATELY!

Angry swim coach Con, yes.

God, he pulls off military type so well.

"If you've got the energy to smile, go give me a few more laps." HELL YEAH.

God, I know that's his voice, but god it sounds like it hurts.

I hate military types...so much.

This bike tampering is dumb, and dangerous, and is going to get both of them beat up. Also, these men(E-1 privates) 'respect' women more than any vet I've met.

I'd be entertained by that shit. And fucker seems like an ass so might as well give it to him.

Con looks huggable in that jacket. It's a nice soft blue. Love it.

CON IN A HAT! With a little feather.

"I never thought of you as a romantic!" GOD FUCKING DAMN IT. Can he just be evil? Or a douche? Every single fucking project this guy needs to be sad and lonely, wanting a friend/lover. Hurt by a past relationship and just wanting justice in his life. Don't get me wrong, I eat this shit up with a goddamn spoon. But Fucking HELL. EVERY CHARACTER?

HE'S DIVORCED. THAT MEANS HE'S AVAILABLE BABY. "There's only room for one woman in my life, I joined the army, she made a man out of me." I KNOW WHAT YOU ARE.

ALSO THAT CARDIGAN, AHHHH. It's obviously cheap military clothes, but god.

CON SMILING BABY!

(The young couple we've been following all episode) They're a cute couple (I say, a military brat that got out before I was 10. They'll fuck, have a kid, and be just as unhappy as anyone else on base. Divorce before their kids fifth birthday. Love that)

OHH I think I've seen clips of this scene!

ROBERT! THEY GAVE HIM THE NAME ROBERT. :) Funny in an Ironic way. He couldn't find a date? If he's a teacher then he probably doesn't leave base often, and a divorce? This man is going to be relationship adverse as fuck.

Also, parental issues be damned, he looks nice in uniform

I love that he got all up in his space, and Robert just looked fucking dead inside. Then he ruined his meal.

Also, please tell me he isn't going to fucking go after a woman in his charge. :). Please. Fucking please. I'm holding on by the edge of my rope, if he takes advantage of his subordinate, I will be pissed.

God, Con's speech around 12:30 sounds like a good ol' time.

BOB. I know it's a shortening of Robert, but Jesus fuck.

Also, this amount of restraint is admirable. He should have gotten screamed at.

We as the audience are probably supposed to think he's an ass. Nah, he didn't humiliate him in front of the other officers, held his ground when he thought he was being made fun of. This is just good leadership. Izzy Hands could fucking learn a thing.

Bitch, he would have already heard about them fucking. The gossip would have been spread by lower-level officers. This 'damn, she got away' thing shouldn't work.

OOooooo sexist Con line. Don't like that.

Small break to talk about a fun real life military thing.

His point about some people getting ahead by passing tests is a real thing many in the military resent. (In the US you go up an E-4 on day 1 if you have a bachelor's degree in anything, to Corprol. Hell, depending on if you were reserves you could go up higher, when most start as E-1). This motivates some to join up even after they could get a job away from the civilian world. If you are poor, you're fucked. Take the long way around and don't get good pay.

Personally I see what Robert is saying here to be the main thing Izzy holds a grudge with Stede over. Stede was able to purchase being a captain where as he had to fight for it. Possibly die for it.

Now, back to this episode. There are bullshit and bigoted reasons behind this belief, not just class-based. It's used to say why women shouldn't serve, etc. Con's a sexist pig here and says these same reasons. It is exactly the reason I never followed in my family's footsteps. In male-dominated fields they will 9 times out of 10 treat you like shit. BACK TO THE SHOW.

Robert, if you fucking assault this woman I will reach into the screen and murder your ass.

Okay, a drunken apology is fun. Jackass trying to get in her pants.

EWWWW.

Forced attempted kiss/assult.

Don't like this. Mam, just scream close to the doors if you feel uncomfortable. Jesus Christ. OH THAT'S FUCKED UP.

Okay, he's forcing himself onto her. Gross.

Also, real-life examples of abuse of military power.

I DON'T CARE IF IT'S EMBARRASSING TO PAY FOR SEX, RAPE ISN'T BETTER YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE

He assaults her here.

Hey, you remember when I didn't want con to be in roles where he wasn't sympathetic. NOT LIKE THIS. This is actually one of the worst things you could have made him do.

BEAT HIS ASS UP. (This is around the 40-minute mark.)

I DON'T FUCKING CARE IF HE'S HIGH RANK, IM SWINGING.

This is where I started skipping around, thus why the rest is so short. It's all too painful and real. He's called into the office to answer for his crimes and bluff.

He threatens her in private, and thinks that he's going to get away with it.

Again, the military is in to protect their ass, but it's good to see the woman investigator standing up for the victim.

OH GOOD, FUCKING KILL HIM (he's almost drowned from the victims boyfriend, but gets stopped).

So, at the end of the day. There's not enough evidence to put him in jail or kick him out. She's left traumatized, and Robert gets away with some glares and very little else.

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

Story: 8-9/10. Very real. I was wearing Con tinted glasses, but as a military kid who grew up around this shit, I almost immediately coped with him as the type to assault an officer. Lonely, doesn't get out much and feels like women owe him something. The type.

Con: ?/10 He plays A Fucking Vile piece of shit. The worst of it is you know his character has half a dozen reasons of justification. I was tempted to write out all the ones he says in the show, but no. I've heard it all before when men come onto me, and I tell them I'm gay. 'But you looked at me and smiled?' type shit. He plays the part really fucking well. Skin crawling performance of a 'nice guy'. He just does it so realistically I don't want to say like 3/10 you know?

Characters besides Con: Realistically, and sadly, more men would have sided with Robert. He has the rank, and though not well-liked, he would have been given the benefit of the doubt more than he was in the show. Everyone's performances were realistic and semi-heartwarming with how they believed the E-1. I liked the main couple and I hope they get together in the end. This a good example of why we need high-ranking women in the military.

Editing: Of it's era but non intrusive.

Overall: ?/10. I don't know how to put this one.

Again, if I wasn't ex-military kid/grew up around vets it wouldn't hurt as much. They sell you a dream when you grow up thinking the military does no wrong. How successful your male family members are and how they are heroes. But as a little girl, I quickly saw just how fucking dangerous to live up to these expectations was as an woman. On and off the field. If the purpose in this was to reassure the public that female victims would be believed, then it kind of works as propaganda.

This show fully explores it in a military with less rigor than the one I'm used to seeing. Still the same sexism bullshit regardless of where you are.

Don't worry, I'm watching a Val (BBC Uncle) mega cut after this to soothe my head.

I'd love to hear if anyone else has watched this, and your thoughts on it!

Have a lovely day.

thanks to @ivegotnonameidea for the list :)

[yostresswritinggirl]

Niwa’s lover finds out and punishes him with no kisses for a week. He is a man starved. Dying. Withering. He’d rather face the Almighty Shogun than this. Kabuki-mewmew pleads for leniency on his father’s behalf.

Niwa thoughts. He’s got broad shoulders and excellent arms from all that lifting and smithing. He carries his lover and you can see the shoujo manga sfx. Flowers? Blooming. Hearts? Beating. Lovemaking with him should be called babysmithing. Can’t have weak pull out game if he doesn’t pull out in the first place. Typically squeezes their thigh when he’s in the mood. Otherwise, always has a hand on their hip. Less horny is that he fixates on his partner for that reason. He can see a future with them and wants to be together for as long as they draw breath. He would like to have kids. Biological or adopted, he will love them. A true family man. Very upfront about what he wants and is pretty understanding.

The fact that I can see Tighnari befriending Niwa’s lover in modern au has me in stitches. Really, he sees the partners of the Babeblades and decides that they are friends. Besties. These people? Can be trusted. His favorite bitches to bitch about bitches with. (I have a stemless wine glass with that on it.)

Anyway. Viktor. Has no family back in the homeland. Just wants to buy stuff for the memories. Last I checked, he was stationed in Sumeru. He even carves wood. Friendship with Childe ended. Viktor is my new Fatui sussy boy. NPC fucker era. Steadily adding more simps to romance.

Bloom anon

*Insert Niwa in babygirl poses* And also this for Niwa the whole time he was punished, he was so gloomy and uncharacteristically silent that everyone in Tatarasuna was creeped out and worried, Kabukimono had to beg and kneel for forgiveness to them to forgive Niwa and not be so harsh. And Niwa's lover didn't even think it was that big of a deal until they saw their lover look so soulless, as if dehydrated for days

"To think you could be so evil..." "Me?! Evil?!" "Worse than the Shogun..." "The Shogun?!?!?"

Oh oh you know what Niwa reminds me of!! Finnian from Black Butler! Super strong babygirl, he picks them up so nonchalantly that it's comical, like "oh careful there's a gap on the stairway up to the furnace" and he just picks them up in one arm and hops over like wtf - oh yes yes sorry, the shoujo part yes yes the lovemaking too PFFT

It's also very important to keep the bloodline going for the future of Tatarasuna and the continuation of the Isshin Arts yeah! But ahhh family man Niwa is such a nice and cozy headcanon, just wanting a comfortable life for his family, a normal family for once

Omayghad Tighnari hahaha he's always befriending them that's true, he really just gets along with anyone at this point (maybe not so much with Kazuha's lover since they're more focused on being nomadic and surviving, he'd be more in line with Kazuha haha)

Speaking of Viktor, huh is he in Sumeru for me, I kinda forgot - he might actually not be, I need to work on that. But I'm glad you're hyperfixating on him, let's just hope this ain't some red herring shit that Hoyo uses in the future to break our hearts

[wardenswateringhole]

I'm a relatively new follower so unfortunately I don't know a ton about what to ask that'd work for you, but MAN can I relate to needing to talk or be asked something by someone when you're in that kind of high anxiety state... I'm really really sorry you're experiencing that and I hope it passes soon 🫂🩷🩵

As for a question and invitation to infodump to help, hmm... how about: what's a pokemon design you really like that you could talk a lot about? If that's a question you find interesting of course lol.

Oh honey. You know not what you have wrought. Though I'm going to go with pokemon I dislike instead. There are far too many I adore to talk about.

*pulls up a podium and sets up a display*

So I've been around since the original 151. Back when Pikachu was a tubster.

It was obviously new territory on the gaming scene. It was just a critter collecting and battling game and of course not much thought other than what kids would find cool were put into the designs of the Pokemon.

As the generations continued, people began to try and assign rules to a Pokemon's design. Like what made a pokemon a pokemon. I actually remember a complaint that pulled me away from gen 5 was that the Pokemon designs were terrible and didn't look like pokemon should.

(I have since learned those people were full of shit and I was a fool for skipping gen 5)

While do believe there is probably a set of rules that game freak has to ensure a Pokemon's design coalesces with the rest of the roster, it does feel like there are exceptions.

and I fucking hate them.

I love the majority of pokemon designs. The ones that don't immediately click usually grow on me. But dammit all there are some that I hate with such a flipping passion that I cannot bring myself to even consider catching them and adding the to my party.

Let's get the easy ones out the way.

ALL THE ULTRA BEASTS.

You heard me. I hate those fuckers. Not only are they so different that it makes my ocd scream, but I overall just hated the idea of them in general. it freaked me out terribly. Something about the idea of pokemon from another dimension being so much more violent than the Pokemon native to the normal pokemon universe suddenly crossing over and running amok bothered me so badly when I was younger. I still hate it to this day and could not tell you why.

(Most if not all ultra beasts were designed by the ONLY American pokemon designer on gamefreaks team. That same artist has been responsible for some of the more disliked designs. Not their fault, The higher ups just seem to have terrible taste.)

CHEWTLE

Fucking hate this abomination. The design feels so damned lazy. Also looks like something from Chalkzone than Pokemon. I abhor catching this thing. They get my shittiest ball and camps out in my box until I decide to actually evolve it.

CALYREX

AHHHHHHH!!! Oh sweet Arceus I cannot tell you badly my blood boils when I look at this idiotic thing. I did not get the DLC just because I hate this design so badly. It could have been done so much better but no.

MOST OF THE PARADOX POKEMON FROM VIOLET

It's not that I hate their designs but the idea they represent. The future they foretell feels so dismal. Devoid of life and cold as metal. I actually feel depressed when I look at them. If there were more organic features to them I think I'd like them alot more.

I think I can leave it here. These are the ones that immediately come to mind and thus are the most hated. There are other topics I could crow about but I think this was enough and helped me a lot. Thank you so much for sending this ask.

[solardick]

Hurry up and syart ww3 already. Instead of sissy slapping each other. Sanction this and sanction that. You think Iran goves a shit?

I want to watch a missile fly over canada and hit my apartment building.

We’re all peace and love bitch. But we’ll sanction youninto a suicidal depression if we font likebyou.

It’ll be just endless years going back and forwards as far as the eye can see. Nervous tension. In a system at the core and perimeter of existence.

Nervous system. Get it?

Stupid fucken pills dont even work.

Wow that demon that leapt in with my mother sure did fuck that family up. That added to the….. i hate my fathers family. They’re just i dont know off. Don’t know much at all about family. Not at all. Indont know any of them. My little brother some. There was some good bonding there. Litle sis too. But she only comes accompanied by a parent. The story goes

Like this. The cast away from the mother and the tragic death of a brother. Both narative drive together and merge into the offspring. Its collective karma. The chosen one, will bare all the weight of all their bs. Two naratives that flow togwther tangle together and create together something from them. This is not to be primarly thought of as genes. Or dna or whatever all that crap is. Its more of being beyond the physical. Maybe meta maybe no. No where near all that.

And the story goes quite literaaly as the cast away whi dies tragically. The fool from the father the arroganve from the mother.

And has nothing to do with me. I want it to go away. But. Sadly. Trajjixally as it is. Brushed off the shoulder cuz ya too much a pussy to own it.

Welcome to life mother fucker.

No one cares. No one knows you. And neither are you spart of the decisions for your life. Thats fantastic. The entire reality from birth on. What am i suposed to do with all of it. I can see all the “building” from media. How ot all flows together to mind control. Or more as in a means of a path from given asdociates that later play into life experiences. And then one has fate” wispering in your ear.

Four sibblings. Middle child. The dot in the center of five. The dot in the center is chaos. A dark reverberating orb. And is a phase. The cutting of. That which is past and future. Finally a girl!

Tarot card five is the pope. Two and two? One white priestess one black priestess. Or perhaps better termed the Hall. To russian its the tower.

Dont beleive ehat i say, o got that lying disease thing. Got a do it.

The chances of finding someone to share life with has gone down to about 5%.

🎶Im gonna be dead, im not surviving. Im gonna be dead. Im not…🎶

At least im not shitting mucous anymore. Still. My sanity is draining. Focus and attention. Gone. This keeps up. Im gonna need assisted living.

Lets see if i survive to my next birthday. Not even depression season yet.

Intellectual motivation gone. Esoteric motivation gone. External acheivemtnet motivarion gone. I wanted someone to do it with me. A fair delicate touch. The voice of command to subtlety. Becaus eif i do it. If i try to do it. Its not going to pan out. 30 years have taught me that. Locked out of life. Then i tried. And i got raped. So. I dont know if i want to try anymore.

Scorpio is nothing but criminal and bs. Iam a lesser person anyway. How ive always been treated. The quip sense of elation to superiority. Scorpio. Or simply hilding a power of someones soul. Gives a sense of grandeur. So ive seen.

Ive seen that expression often enough that theres an extended sense for it.

I dont know people. There zero life there. So much “energy” rippling through the consciousness. Not something i know. A functional relationship. Never had one really. Here and there perhaps. Ow everyone knows me for who there are. All holding inside information. Nothing is direct. Its too dangerous. You go for direct and they shot you down. They may attack you. Put themselves over me. Domination. Someone always has some heavy leaning of power when it comes to my person. Always. This is no different just a grandeur scale of what always was. They think the hold that power and they trip on it. But they don’t. Just pons.

Pons are maniacs. They kill or they sacrifice. Or they cockblock the king.

I used to go

Buy a dvd once teice a week and the guy in the store started stalking me. Shadowing me trying to seize an opportunity to exort his will over mine.

Some gay guy also started bashing me in. Because i didnt want him to blow me.

Wearing an hawieen shirt, i dont know how to spell it, and some fag basher started giving me a hard time by exerting his influence.

I can go on at length.

Playing hide and seek as a kid. Brother found me. But he prettended he didn’t. And he kept walking by. Did that a few times.

Ok ill stop……

Ive soemt everyday for most of my life fearing for my life. Now theyr trying to rob the rest of my life with more perversion. Ill mever know whatbits loke to be a person.

Well as weary as i am about the bible’s goal of passifying and subordinating mankind.

And it seems the only life i get to have is one of secrecy. Have to prevtend like i dont exist. Kept the evil at bay. And do nothing or ill be attacked for no reason. 40 years on the reveiving end of people eill to

Dominate. So i cant be a man. Because thats part and parcel of being one. Apparently. I dont know. Ive never been human. A reason why i have cock written on my forehead. Cuz thats all that matters. Thats all people

See of me. Eat the rooster. Call the sunrise. Bring a new day into the world. Apparently not. My day. They just seem to be sucking the brains out of my head. Makes me more malleable. Im not even allowed to learn how humans are like. Its just solitude and watrangement. Caus they all evil. And the good is juat absent.

But, i question somethign else. How does it work? Its like inhad the system. Whatever that is. Speaking through me to me. Prophetic intimate knowledge. As i walk through the valley and am touched by providence.

Providence is a word ive really ever used. Though it should have over the last several years. I can see how someone would say “its your higher self” whatever that means. But what about the providence. You cannot understand the pressence of an entity. Presence fits better. And then past that there a whole world pretending yo be it. And your like….. nothing.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#259

“Seth? Right? C’mon in. Your brother told you who I am? Good. Want a beer?... Here you go. Let’s go out to the back deck. The sun went down, and the cool evening air is starting to kick in. Have a seat…. Ok. Seth, do you know why you are here? Let me be blunt. Your brother David owes me a lot of money. A lot. He’s been doing jobs for me that I need someone I can trust to do. But that’s barely covering the interest. I told him he needs to start working down the principal. So, he offered me… you….

“That’s right he sold you to me. You are going to whore off his debt…. Shut the fuck up. The deal is set. Have some more beer; it will help you to deal with what I need to go over with you….

“Your brother probably told you that I am a powerful man. Hopefully he didn’t tell you what I did. I will share with you one part of my business that you will be a part of. I have several whore agencies across several states. They ain’t like the whorehouses in the movies. The girls never see money; they show up at a set time and do whatever the man wants. They do not say no. They get to live in city, and they show their clients the best the city has to offer. They have everything paid for and get a nice credit card too.

“A few years ago—hell it’s more like ten or so, —I was convinced to do the same but on the fag side. Now, I knew nothing about fag sex, and it disgusted me. Once I got over the visuals, the business was just like the girls. The difference I found out was that I had to have two sets of whores—fag boys like yourself, and men old enough to be your father.

“It was Frankie, one of my goons, who told me that there is a lot money to be made by men taking the dominant role. I didn’t believe it. So, he arranged for me to watch him from a distance him work over this faggot. He didn’t tell me how much he was earning. When I saw this fag hand over three hundred bucks, I knew I needed to get into this. I mean my guy did barely anything other than smack the fag around, call him names, and sit on the faggot’s face at the end. That fag ate that fat ass while pounding its pud. Frankie even went over to the fag’s wallet and took an additional hundred out of it. And wouldn’t you know, that fag boy was loving life.

“Needless to say, that was how I got into the fag whoring business. I had Frankie lead it; he even got somewhat in shape, and now he’s my most popular whore men. Wait a minute, you know him. He fucked you behind a dumpster in the alley behind that fag bar a couple weeks ago. When I saw you at David’s birthday partner at my tavern and he told me that you were his sperm burping brother, I sent Frankie to find out more about you. I know that you can take a good pounding, face slaps, rough housing. Frankie also told me that you cleaned off his cock after we was done and that you drank his piss. You even begged him for more as he walked away from you, naked covered in piss behind the dumpster. That’s all I needed to hear.

“After meeting with your brother, all I had to do was press the massive debt. I knew how self-serving he was. He sold you out so fucking fast. And now I own you. Now strip faggot….

“You do realize who I am? No one ever disobeys one of my direct commands. Now think about your next move real carefully. STRIP YOU FUCKING FAGGOT. Take your time standing up. That drug I put in your beer will make you kinda dizzy if you stand too fast. Yeah, I didn’t want you to run back to your car. Kid, when you came in that door, you were mine. That’s it. Accept your fate. Good boy.

“Yeah, after Frankie roughed up that fag, I was curious. He arranged for me to use one of his regulars who was blindfolded. It was so much fun to kick and punch that faggot only to have him crawl to me, begging for more. With each time, I got more wicked, and they wanted more. I had a few fags over the years locked up and had the best of all worlds. My wife provides me with companionship. My girlfriend offers sensual making love and snuggling. And my faggot takes all my rage filled abuse.

“Underwear needs to go too. Let’s see what you have. Not bad. Looks like you are excited about being naked in front of me. That’s a lot of pre-cum. Decent sized balls. I’d say you are about six inches long. The shaft is a bit thin, but the head is good size. Your foreskin is not too long. That’s good. If there’s going to be one sweaty stinky dick around here, it will be mine. If yours becomes a problem, we’ll get you circumcised.

“What? Faggot, you are nothing more to me than my pickup. If I want to modify you out, I sure as hell am going to. I modify all my property. Tattoos, piercing, permanent hair removal, castration, branding, and so on. But actually, I am a bit cautious. I made the mistake of castrating a fag and regretted it afterwards. He just didn’t seem right to me. The cutter I went to tried to put in fake balls, but it still didn’t seem right. I ended up replacing that fag with another.

“I am looking for my perfect fag. I’m planning on letting my girlfriend go, but sometimes I need that close touch. Not going to do that with my wife. Every day now I realize that I want to be with faggots over women. Faggots are so much easier to mold into what I want. And every now and then I might snuggle with one.

“I like what I see. I want to see your cumload. Jerk off for me. I’ll give you a few minutes to do so. When you do, shoot in your spare hand. I want to see the quantity. I’m going to get your collar; it’s probably done charging. I’m also going to take your car keys. You ain’t going anywhere. Continue jacking….

“….Did you cum? You did! Good fag. When was the last time you came? Yesterday morning? Well that’s a good load. Here, lock this collar around your neck. Ok, so here’s the deal. You can jack off as often as you like, whenever you like as long as I am not using you. If I catch you jacking off, don’t stop. If you are watching porn, continue. But know this, no matter if you haven’t cum in days or you just had a massive orgasm, should I require your use, I fully expect 100% horniness and enthusiasm.

“This remote is hooked up to your collar. With this button… you fall to the floor just like that. Hurt’s like a mother fucker hunh? That’s on low. Remember that. It is also set up to shock you should you cross a 20-foot perimeter of the house. I am notified by an app on my phone when you do something that stupid. Also, the garage and my office on the third floor are completely off limits. You will not fare well should you cross that threshold without me.

“Bring your cock over here. Is your dick head sensitive. It is! Fuck yes! As you get soft, it’s driving you crazy. Good. Good. I see a problem here. Your pubic hair is all over the place. You shouldn’t have hair down here. Look how long this hair is. There’s enough so that I can twirl a bunch around my finger. With a firm yank,… it comes out in one clump. Aww shut the fuck up. Most of the time your screams of pain will turn me on, but now it’s just annoying. Another clump on the other side, and it doesn’t even look like you lost any.

“Look at me faggot. Say ‘Thank you.’ Good fag. Open your mouth. Here eat your pubic hair. Go on chew it. Nasty? I know, now swallow. And here’s… another bunch. Swallow these…. And these… And these… You’ll be permanently shaved in the near future so you won’t have to do much pubic hair eating.

“While you finish your snack, let me take you around the place and show you your duties. This is the kitchen. David told me that you went to culinary school but then dropped out. Well, you will be doing all the cooking here. Cleaning too.

“Let’s go downstairs…. This is your room, although you really don’t have privacy. Over there is your cot. Next to it is the plug you will put into your collar every night. I am notified on my app should the power level drop below 75%. That’s equivalent for not charging for a full week. Unless I just slam you with shocks, I should never get one of those notifications.

“You have a wash basin there, and your toilet is there. There’s your douche hose over there in the shower. No, I haven’t gotten around to buying it a toilet seat; the cold porcelain is fine. And I haven’t hooked up the hot water down here.

“Let’s go up to the Master bedroom…. You never climb into my bed unless I invite you in. In fact no non-sexual furniture for you either without permission. Through that door is the master bath. You will keep this place spotless. That includes licking clean my toilet. The rimseat next to it is when I want to make you toilet paper or a full toilet.

“And here’s the playroom. It’s totally soundproofed. You are going to suffer a lot in here. Screaming is encouraged. In fact, what time is it? Seven. Well we might as well start now. Get on all fours—knees and elbows. Spread those knees wide. Every night you will present yourself in this position, as you will every morning.

“Don’t get too excited. I am going to fuck you good, long, and deep. But that won’t until the end. We got a long way to go. You see, the only people who knows my affinity for preferring the boys to the girls are Frankie, me, and now you. Your brother thinks I’m adding you to my harem of fags. This is something that cannot get out. And if it does, I will know it came from you, and I want you to know the perpetual hell that will come your way.

“Tonight is a test of what you can expect, but keep in mind, tonight’s suffering will be only five hours long, much shorter than what will be if my preference is ever widely known.

“And after the paddling your ass to a welted mess, whipping your back until it turns to bloody hamburger, kicking your balls until they are swollen to twice their size, bruising up your face, and fucking you with very little lube, I may feel the need to snuggle up with you afterwards.

“But first, there’s a lot to do before we do that. Oh look your balls are just ripe for a good old fashioned full-force kick. Every night and every morning you will get one to always remind you what you are.

“Faggot right now with this kick your hell begins.”

[knpjpr]

fucked up. | jjk sm au

⇆series: #fake

⇆main ship: gamer!jungkook x student!reader

⇆genre: angst, angst, and angst and then some fluff

⇆word count: 4.5K (unedited)

⇆warnings: theres cussing, unprotected sex, (wrap it up smh.) riding, dirty talk, tension between yn and jungkook, slut shaming, taehyung x lou ;), taejoon friendship confirmed, jimin and yoongi fight, jungkook and yn fight, everyone is messy tbh

⇆ a/n: if you'd like to be added to the taglist, send me an ask + time stamps are in this part for a reason

Yn ; October 31th | 11:21 pm

The minute you and Lou are entering the house, everything is in full swing. People scattered all around, some at the bar table filling their cups with whatever type of booze they could, others dancing, playing beer pong, and much more that you knew Jin would throw a fit about later.

Lou is parting ways with you, automatically walking her way to the booze table and pushing some guy you’ve never seen over as you make yourself home to a space on the couch. Lou looked pretty, just like your dark angel costume, she’d placed herself in a white version, the curve of her body showing nicely. She was indeed a pretty angel.

Taehyung is the second person who you see tonight, walking up to you with the same smile you’ve known since fifth grade. “Care if I join you?” He’s noticeably a vampire, the corners of his mouth leaked with fake blood as his red contacts contrast with the costume.

“Sure, Lou went and ditched me… as usual.”

He’s laughing, the only sound that made you feel comfortable in this crowded house full of people you’ve seen but never made the time to get to know. The two of you had finally been able to talk after a long time and it was nice. You and Taehyung were good friends and you hoped it stayed that way.

“I like your costume.” He says, taking a quick glance over at your outfit, but deciding that if he looked any further it would make you uncomfortable.

You’re smiling at him this time, settling into the party as your side tucks into his. “You want something to drink?” Nodding slowly, Taehyung is standing up and walking towards the bar table.

It had been a few minutes of you sitting there when you decided to walk around the place. Loud music with people’s chatter to overlap with it. You easily are swinging past bodies, trying to find Taehyung’s figure who wasn’t at the bar table any more. It wasn’t until you feel a hand on your shoulder when you are close by the backyard sliding doors that you stop. “Hey.”

You turn and there Jungkook is, red solo cup in hand, and a smile placed on his face as your heart pounds. He looks hot, black hood over his head with clown makeup decorating his face, his jeans ripped like always. His costume was simple, but even so, still made your heart race.

He had been waiting to see you all night, got here early due to Namjoon’s request to get out the house and help, and so seeing you here made his heart happy, made him happy.

He’s taking a long glance down your body, swallowing hard when he notices that you aren't wearing alot to cover your figure, parts of your body like your cleavage and thighs on full display to him. “Like what you see?” You tease as he frowns down at you, which has you laughing, unintentionally placing your hand on his chest.

His gaze softens the minute your touch is all he feels. “Why don’t we go somewhere quieter?” He asks, watching as you move closer to him every time someone pushes past you. “Sure, follow me.” You say as you slip your hand into his and start leading him past others, not noticing the blush that rises on your cheeks.

Namjoon ; October 31th | 11:37 pm

Namjoon was a tall.. a little too tall handsome guy, to which he had found out by the longing glances he would get from girls and even so guys. This was not his usual thing, never had himself at a party so he was determined to find someone he knew and hang with them for the majority of the night.

Slipping past a few people, he’s coming into sight of Taehyung, choppy brown hair displaying in messy waves as a red solo cup had been accompanying him for the night. Namjoon is walking up to him, dimples on full display, which has Taehyung splitting his gaze from something to him in an instant. “Yo dude, like your costume.”

Namjoon did not plan to go all out for this simple halloween party, and seeing as Jin told him that it was a costume party, he opted to dress up as his future career. He wore a bright orange nasa jumpsuit, one that his mom bought him per his request. He wanted to be an astronaut and sure hell this kid could do it.

“Thanks.” Namjoon takes a seat beside Taehyung, finally realizing that his attention wasn’t on the 5’11 tall ass guy seated next to him, but rather on a shorter girl who’s doe eyes were scanning around the kitchen.

Namjoon recognized her almost instantly, didn't even have to question it by the way Taehyung is sighing hard. “When has she looked that pretty, and why am I just realizing this.” He blurts, Namjoon not knowing if he’s talking to him or to the air that this party didn’t have enough of.

“Why don’t you talk to her?” Taehyung cocks his head in Namjoons direction, an unrecognizable look on his face. He had been watching her the minute he assumed you found Jungkook, his gaze not being able to falter at all from her direction.

“I don’t know man, I don’t want to fuck up our friendship.” Taehyung admits, he didn’t know whatever the feeling that he felt right now was. But he did know if he were to explore it, he could possibly fuck it all up.

“Well, you never know. That’s why they are called “leaps of faith,” namjoon shifts in his spot on the couch, watching as the girl they had been looking at is startly approached by another figure. “You never know. If you don’t go, others will.”

Taehyung doesn’t need to be told twice, getting up from his seat the minute the girl’s face crinkles in uncomfortableness at the other unknown guy. Taehyung didn’t know what would come out of him and Lou, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t ignore how he felt at that moment.

Jimin ; November 1st | 12:03 pm

If there was one thing Jimin knew, it was that costumes at Halloween parties are not mandatory. He very much disliked dressing up in some tacky costume, like a couple who had just walked past him as a firefighter and a dalmation. Fucking lame.

Instead, Jimin dressed hot, dressed in clothes that he wore all the time, but for Yoongi, it made his heart pound and Jimin knew that. Could tell all just by the way Yoongi would take long glances the whole ride to Jin’s and would constantly suck in air the minute Jimin is softly brushing against him.

Jimin had been seated on one of the bar stools in the den of Jin’s house, carefully watching as Jin and Yoongi go at it in a round of beer pong. Yoongi was losing terribly, his attention too intertwined with the blonde that was sitting comfortably behind him.

Jin’s turn was next, only had three more cups to go before Yoongi was completely plastered, which meant that Jimin would have to drive them home. Yoongi was already starting to become drunk, the smell of booze making Jimin’s nose crinkle in a cringe. Drinking was overrated.

Jin takes one of the balls in his hands, angling his hand as he squints before chucking the ball, the sound of a plastic ball hitting liquid making Yoongi groan. “F-fuck man.” Yoongi grunts, slipping the ball out of the cup before tipping the cup up to his lips and chugging the rest of its contents.

Jimin watched with distaste, Jin smirking widely before waiting for Yoongi to try his shot with the remaining eight cups left on Jin’s side. “Man, I think it’s far to see I've won.” Jin says taunting but Yoongi glares hard at the older male. “You, you shut your big lip ass up. I can do it just fine you f-fucker.”

Yoongi reaches his hand down into the small basket full of ping pong balls, grabbing the plastic orb and trying to copy Jin’s movements, but failed with a drunken stance, the ping pong ball bouncing off the table and onto the floor.

“S-shit.” He groans, Jin smirking as Jimin rolls his eyes. There was no way that Yoongi was going to win and it was starting to annoy Jimin because he was sitting here watching him just drink and drink.

Soon enough Yoongi was sipping down his last drink, proving ultimately that Jin won fair and square. “Damn dude, usually you beat me. Must be my lucky day.” Jin laughs out and Jimin slips off from the bar stool. “I’m going to go get me some water.”

Yoongi being completely plastered was a bad thing. Not only was he extremely clumsy but he was ill-tempered and acted rash and right on the spot. So the minute he’s coming to the conclusion Jimin’s leaving him behind, he’s turning fast and accidentally spilling the remainder of booze on Jimin’s clothes.

“Fuck! Baby I didn’t mean to.” Yoongi says, not paying attention to the looks people are starting to give the minute they realize what just left his mouth.

Jimin didn’t care about his clothes, but what he did care about was Yoongi just outting them out. Outting him out. Yoongi had been trying to wipe away the stain with his hand, not even understanding that wasn’t how it worked.

Jimin slapped his hand away, Yoongi’s face forming into a frown as he realized Jimin was pissed. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Yoongi finally realized around him that people were watching, looking back at Jimin.

And here came the ill-temper that Yoongi had when drunk.

“Are you fucking embarrassed of us? What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Yn ; October 31th | 11:42 pm

You had found no one occupying Jin’s guest room, slowly leading Jungkook inside and locking it so no one could come busting inside and interrupting the two of you. Which was usually drunks and or people looking for places to fuck.

Jungkook sat on the end of the bed, his usual man spreading pose coming into your line of sight. It makes you blush, having to stop yourself from being anymore of a fool that you could possibly be.

“Hey, you can come sit too.” Patting with persistence you’re sitting down with a slight giggle that has Jungkook smiling back at you. He had noticed the blush that placed your cheeks, his starting to burn.

“You’re blushing.” You blurt out, that has Jungkook flinching as a slightly irritated look was on his face. “You’re the one who’s blushing.” He says, eyebrows furrowed as you look away from, trying to cool down your face.

“It’s because of you,” he speaks out, his straightforwardness never faulting in his personality. You turn your head to face him, face bright red with doe eyes piercing his gaze. “It’s because of you that is making me blush.”

At this moment your heart is beating fast, his body shifting closer to yours as you swallow hard. Jungkook has always been clear cut, always knew what he wanted, but when you came along, his dynamic changed. He wanted you, and he wanted to prove it.

“Tell me if you don’t want to.” That’s all he says as he waits for your response. Your heart almost about to burst out of your chest. You wanted this, for him to kiss you again and to be wrapped up in just him. “Go ahead..”

That is all you had to say before his lips are in the space of yours, hearts beating at the same pace together. His hand slowly creeped up and intermingled with yours. Your stomach filled with butterflies, his warmth and smell surrounding your senses.

The next thing you knew, you were spread out on the sheets of Jin’s guest room, Jungkook’s flushed face and deep breaths as he doesn’t know what he wants to do first. “I don’t have a condom.” He says, because obviously he didn’t think he would be over your naked body like this, about to fuck you like this.

Your response is filled with shyness, the fact you’ve never let someone look at you like this, and because he didn't know he looked so adorable at this moment. Hair standing up every which way, eyes hooded, and cheeks pink. “You can continue..”

“Is this your first time?" He asks as though that should be the response to what was about to happen. You can't help the giggle that tumbles from your lips, gesturing along to his slightly shocked face. "Yeah, it is." 

He's coming over to you, looking you in the eyes as you slightly bite a hold on your lip. "Ah, uhm okay. I’ll be gentle, just tell me if anything is hurting." He talks distractedly as he investigates your body and you can't tell if he’s nervous or just doesn't know what he’s doing.

Whenever he's settled on his decision, he's moving to lay over you once more, your legs spread out towards him. Going to press another kiss to your mouth, however you're halting him before your lips are contacting. "You can chill too, you know? I don’t expect this to be perfect." 

He’s nodding his head, before sitting up and pulling his shirt off his head, which was the last article of clothing that made the two not fully naked.

"How about you ride me," An idea that plainly flew into his head, however he's finishing, moving back and onto his back. You couldn’t help the blush that crept up on your face the minute his hands came in contact with your waist, placing you above his torso.

He’s moving to align himself perfectly with your entrance, a slight moan escaping from your lips the minute you're slowly slipping to be seated on him. He groans, his hands coming to make a place on your hips. You didn’t know what to do at first, this had been your first time, and it wasn’t like you were taking notes on how to be fucked.

It was the way he would moan differently that had you figuring out a better pace for the both of you. His head had been placed back into his pillow, at an angle to where he could watch how your tits would bounce and exactly how your wetness would pool down onto his dick. “God fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.”

His words rolled off his tongue with such ease, you hadn’t been uncomfortable at all by his dirty talk. And he knew that just by the way your walls would clench and a longed out whine would slip past your lips. If you did that again he probably would have cum right then and there.

His hands held a tighter grasp on your hips the minute you were placing your hands to rest on his chest, your hips rolling at a quicker pace, his dick rubbing up and down on your walls. “Fuck..” His tip slips back as you bring down your hips back onto him. 

“Yeah baby, just like that." He praises, voice stressed as he feels his cock jerk somewhere inside you. He's not even sure where you learned this, because plot twist you didn’t learn it anywhere. Your pussy fixes around him at the finish of his words and it pushes him to the edge, making him throw his head back again.

It’s when he’s feeling his high coming that he’s moving your back, your chest pressed to his as he’s moving his legs and thrusting into your pussy. You moan loudly, his nails digging into your hips as your hands are tangled in his hair. Lips finding each other as you could feel your climax reaching too.

He doesn’t stop his fast thrusts until your moaning non stop, the feel of your nails digging hard into his hair, legs shaking uncontrollably as the two of you are hitting your climax. The sound of his moans mixing with yours as the only person you thought about was him.

His arms stay around your body until the roll of your hips transforms into little jerks, gasped breaths hitting his neck which has him smiling softly. His neck cranes so he can get a decent glance at your face, a fucked out smile on your face. “Damn, dick that good?” He teases as he feels a huff pressed to his skin.

You're fast to turn in his arms, scrunching your nose as you gaze toward him. "You suck, you really looked hot in that costume," He laughs loudly at that, as he rests his nose in the crook of your neck. You're immediately loaded up with warmth as his arms wrap themselves around your waist. He wanted nothing but to stay in this moment with you.

An all around recognizable feeling starts to pool in your stomach. It was beginning to get harder to contain your complete infatuation with Jungkook, to hold yourself back from falling excessively fast. The way he had been holding onto you gently, drawing circles with his fingertips, and even humming softly, you knew you were fucked.

Yn ; November 1st | 12:37 pm

Soon enough Jungkook is slipping away from your grasp, checking the constant notifications dinging from his phone which made him shoot up from the bed and hurry up to put on his clothes.

“Woah- Is everything okay?” You ask, pulling the sheets with you to cover yourself. Jungkook could see the worried expression on your face, “Yeah baby, don’t worry Hoseok needs me down stairs, Jimin and Yoongi are fighting.”

The minute you are hearing his words, you have to digest. First, he called you baby and boy did you like it, and second Jimin and Yoongi were fighting? You were shocked, hurrying to get out of bed but Jungkook is stopping you.

“No. You stay here okay? I’ll come back after it’s all done, it’s just so you don’t get hurt.” That’s all he says before he’s rushing out of the room leaving you with a shocked and worried feeling.

It had been about twenty minutes and Jungkook still hadn’t come back, so you decided that you would go see what was going on by yourself.

Walking down the stairs in one of Jin’s hoodies and shorts, you heard a lot of yelling, but most importantly crying. Slipping through a few people your heart almost broke at the sight.

Jungkook had been holding back Yoongi as Hoseok and Jin did the same with Jimin, Yoonig’s face streaming with tears, eyes red and nose bloodshot. “Why the fuck are you so scared huh?? Am I nothing to you?!?” He screams, trying to claw out of Jungkook’s hold as Jimin’s eyes are just as hurt as Yoongi’s are. “I never said shit about that Yoongi! I just wished you would have given me time!”

Yoongi can’t control what he’s feeling at that point, tears still streaming as he’s still trying to fight his way out of Jungkook's hold. “You’re my fucking boyfriend Jimin?! Why is that so hard to accept??” Everyone is shocked as Jimin breaks down. You had never seen Yoongi so hurt before, never seen him cry and sure as hell never seen him interested in someone. Jimin doesn’t even look Yoongi in the eyes before he’s leaving, slipping past people who were recording, tears streaming through both of their eyes. Yoongi screams after him, begging him to stop walking and come back but Jimin doesn't and you could tell it broke Yoongi more.

Soon enough Jin announces the party will continue and for no one to panic as him and Jungkook lead Yoongi up towards his room, trying to calm down the crying guy with every walk.

You needed something to drink after that, today was a lot to process and a drink from whatever was in the bottle that was in your hand would suffice. “Now bitch, boy do I have some tea to spill for you.” Lou’s voice rang from beside you, a bright smile on her face.

She instantly notices you’re in Jin’s clothes, but decides that she’ll ask you about it later, but first she needs to tell you about what she just experienced. “Girlfriend guess who just kis-” She doesn’t even get to finish her sentence before someone is walking up.

Lou steps beside you the second her personal space is being invaded, the look on the guys face nasty and uncomfortable. “I’m glad I finally found you again, I never got to ask your name before that one guy came.”

From the way Lou shudders and the way he talks you can tell she’s met him and doesn’t want to again. “Listen dude, she’s not interested.” You speak up, but the guy doesn’t take his hint, a sour look on his face the minute you’re interjecting.

“Listen bitch, why don’t you go get fucked somewhere else alright?”

He’s motioning towards Jin’s clothes, a ping in your chest the minute you realise he just slut shamed you, an instant feeling of discomfort coming through your skin. Lou is seconds from saying something before Taehyung is stepping behind the guy and coughing loudly.

The guy falters, looking over his shoulder and swallowing down. “You know what? I think my friend just called me.” No one gets to say anything before he’s walking fastly away, a worried expression on Taehyung’s face. “Yn? You alright?”

You couldn’t move, the minute you are hearing the concerned voices of Lou and Taehyung has you unintentionally crying. Taehyung doesn’t know what to do when he sees this, softly reaching out and grabbing a hold on your arm and pulling you into a hug.

Jungkook ; November 1st | 1:13 pm

Jungkook helps Jins put Yoongi on his bed before he’s walking across the room into the guest room and being hit with emptiness. He rushed downstairs and looked across the house only to see people going back to what they were doing.

It’s when he looks toward the kitchen that he sees you, but what he sees makes his thoughts run loose. He couldn’t deny that since the day he had proposed to “fake date” that maybe you still thought of it like that and even so, liked Taehyung.

He was pissed, pissed because now he was convincing himself that you played him, pissed at himself for slowly falling for you when he shouldn’t have. He’s walking over towards the kitchen area and clawing you out of Taehyung’s grasp. “Man what the fuck.” Taehyung frowns hard at the younger guy, but Jungkook isn’t looking at him.

“I think it’s time to end the deal.” Jungkook seethes through his teeth, his jaw clenched as you looked confused. Lou and Taehyung were confused behind him. “Jungkook why are you ups-” He doesn’t let you finish, the grip on your hand tight. “I was stupid to think you liked me, but you know what that’s what I get huh? I mean I was the one who suggested for you to fake date me to get over Taehyung for Lou. But even still it looks like Taehyung likes you over her.”

“You did WHAT??” And that’s when shit hits the fan. Jungkook’s eyes widen the minute he realizes what he’s said, Lou scrunching her fists around the cup she had in her hands, liquid spewing out.

“What a load of bullshit.” She doesn’t even look at Jungkook, her cold gaze directed towards you. You had seen this look before, always toward her mom or her brother when they severely pissed her off, but now it was directed toward you for the first time.

“I knew it was all fucking weird. But you two seriously took me for a fucking fool huh? I can’t believe this is what you do behind my back.” You were scrambling, trying your best to not break down. “Lou it’s not what you think-” She doesn’t let you finish either, grabbing a bottle of alcohol and throwing it on the floor, breaking it. “So this is the kind of friend you take me for!!” She looks you dead in the eyes, before turning around and realizing that Taehyung had heard Jungkook’s words. She couldn’t do this, turning around fully and running away, out the house or somewhere in the house, just anywhere away from there.

You push your way out of Jungkook’s grasp, making him realize that he fucked up the minute that he’s watching your back, your figure running away and out the house. You had just lost your best friend and the guy you were falling for all in one night.

↫ masterlist ↬

— "first loves have always been confusing, but when you're bestfriend confesses she likes someone, your willing to do anything, even fake date and even so, find your first love."

⇆a/n: if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask - (if you aren’t being tagged. turn notifications on)

TAGLIST: @pjmriri @yoongiofmine @shatzkrinslinzki @sereni-soo @avke @betysotelo18 @she-is-dreaming @jkslachimolala @rageyoudamnednerd @teti-menchon0604 @peachy-skz0325 @shreyuuu @pvt-only @lovelytaes-blog @awseokjin @girlwiththeglittereyeliner @tanumiki

[storiesforallfandoms]

assistant ~ roman godfrey;hemlock grove

word count: 1471

request?: no

description: when you start a new job as the assistant of a huge company, the ceo takes an interest in you

pairing: roman godfrey x female!reader

warnings: swearing, harassing remarks

masterlist (one, two)

“And here is the main floor,” said the lady giving me a tour of Godfrey Industries. “This is where you’ll be doing most of your work, but it’s good to know the building in case Mr. Godfrey ever asks you to get something for him.”

“What’s he like?” I asked her. It was the first time my future employer had been mentioned and I had yet to meet him.

She paused a moment before turning to face me. She was suddenly the most serious she had been all day. “He can be a little short tempered sometimes. He has gone off on some of his employees sometimes. If he ever does to you, do not hesitate to come to me for it, alright?”

That sounded reassuring.

I followed her towards Mr. Godfrey’s office, my heart hammering against my chest.

“Mr. Godfrey?” she said as she knocked at the door. “Your new assistant is here.”

“Bring her in.”

She opened the door and nodded for me to go in first. I hoped neither one of them would see how bad my hands were shaking.

I was shocked to see how young he was. Of course, I knew Mr. Godfrey was no more than 21 years old and took over the family business right out of high school, but I didn’t expect someone so young and handsome to be sat behind that desk.

His blue eyes lifted from whatever he was writing and landed on me. I shuffled under his gaze, wondering what was running through his mind as he looked at me.

“Mr. Godfrey, this is (Y/F/N),” she introduced. “She’ll be working as your new assistant.”

“It’s nice to meet you Mr. Godfrey,” I said, trying to keep my voice as even as possible.

“Please, we’re basically the same age,” he said. “Call me Roman. Is it alright if I address you by your first name, too?”

I was so stunned that I could barley get my words out. “Y-Yes, that’s-that’s okay.”

He smiled at me and I felt like my whole body would melt into the floor.

“It’s nice to meet you (Y/N). I can’t wait to work together.”

~~~~~~

The first few days were nothing exciting, mainly running a few errands for Roman. We were rarely ever alone together, which I was a little disappointed by. I knew it was wrong to have these sort of thoughts about my boss, but I couldn’t help it. He was so handsome and charming.

I was at my desk secretly scrolling through my phone when the intercom chimed, signaling Roman was about to speak.

“(Y/N), can you bring the papers regarding the mill in for me?”

“Right away Roman.”

I grabbed the file labelled Godfrey Industries Mill and brought it down to the conference room where I knew Roman was in a meeting.

The moment I walked in I froze again. There were so many official looking business men sat around the table, now they were all looking at me. I smiled awkwardly before crossing the room to pass the file to Roman.

“Thank you (Y/N),” he said as he took it.

“New assistant, Roman?” one of the men asked.

“Yeah, she just started,” Roman responded, barley regarding the man who spoke.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us?”

Roman glared briefly at him before saying, “(Y/N), these are some of my business partners.”

I smiled at them and shuffled uncomfortably when I noticed how they were looking at me. I had heard the jokes about business men and their assistants, but I never believed them. That would be a massive HR issue, right?

But the way these men were looking at me...I wanted to shrink behind Roman for protection.

“I bet you're having a fantastic time with her,” another man commented. “You’ve broken her in already, right Rom?”

“The innocent ones are always the best in the sack,” another added.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes as they all laughed. I was willing myself to move, but I was stuck in place.

The sound of Roman’s hands slamming down on the desk caused me to jump as he stood from his seat. His face was blood red and he looked ready to explode.

“Get the fuck out,” he hissed.

“What?” one of the men questioned.

“I said get the fuck out! All of you!” For good measure, he threw the file at the first man who spoke, narrowly avoiding his face. “Forget the fucking mill deal, forget any fucking deal. I’m not doing business with you disgusting excuse for men anymore!”

They were all shocked, but knew better than to fight against Roman. They all left, grumbling to themselves and calling Roman a handful of names.

We were left alone. Roman sat back down, running his hands through his hair.

“Do..do you want me to...?” I started, gesturing towards the papers that had scattered from the thrown file.

“No,” he responded, his voice softer now. “I’ll take care of it. You take a break, a prolonged one if you need.”

I nodded and quickly left the room, hoping all the business men had left the building entirely as I raced for the nearest bathroom to hide for a while.

~~~~~~

I was on my own in the lobby area when a cup of coffee and a picture perfect sprinkled donut was placed in front of me. I looked up from my computer to see Roman sipping from his own cup, his breathtaking eyes gazing down at me.

“I’m glad you didn’t leave,” he said. “I didn’t check before I got both of those for you.”

“I appreciate it,” I said, taking the cup and the donut. “I still had some stuff I needed to  do, I couldn’t go home early.”

“I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to.”

I took a sip of my coffee, not wanting to respond. Truthfully, I had thrown myself so heavily into my work to keep the disgusting words said by Roman’s business partners out of my head.

I had never been spoken to in such a way before. I knew it wouldn’t be the last time I’d been spoken to in such a way, but it still made me feel dirty and wrong when I thought about it. Like I was nothing more than some eye candy for business men who were old enough to be my father (except for Roman).

Roman continued to lean against the desk, looking down at me as I diverted my attention back to my computer.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” he said. “Those fuckers are a little too...stereotypical.”

I shook my head, trying to downplay my feelings on the situation. “It’s alright. I appreciate you standing up for me, but I’m sorry if it ruins your business relations or whatever.”

Roman rolled his eyes. “I could give less of a fuck. They're all assholes anyways. They only use me for money and power for their bullshit projects. And what they did to you was far from alright. It was wrong, and I hope you know I’m not going to tolerate you being treated like that. Not now, not ever.”

I nodded and took another sip of my coffee, unsure as to what else to say. I was shocked that the situation had made Roman so angry. I mean, I was glad people treating me so poorly made him upset and he wasn’t about to sweep this under the rug, but to cut business ties just for me? I was still trying to figure that part out.

Silence fell over us again and I wondered how long Roman would be stood there watching me. Not that I really minded. This was the first time we had been alone.

“Listen,” he said, “this may be incredibly inappropriate to ask, but I’d love to take you out for dinner some time.”

I looked up at him in shock. “Like...like a date?”

“Or a work dinner, whatever makes you feel more comfortable.”

I didn’t have to think about my answer, but I didn’t want to come off as too eager, so I thought for a moment before responding, “I’d like that.”

Roman smiled back at me. “Okay. You know my schedule, you can pick a time and a date that’s best for you.”

He turned to leave before pausing and turning back to me. “Just to be clear, are you saying you’d like it as a date or as a work dinner.”

I smiled smugly at him and responded, “You’ll have to wait to find out.”

He raised an eyebrow at me, amused, before walking back to his office. When I was sure he was gone, I did a quick dance of excitement in my chair before turning my full attention back to my work.

[whumpzone]

i remember some allusions to col being strong in the future. what if instead of telling him "i want you to be a lapdog and i won't punish or use you", linden let col be a guard dog? he buys him a set of dumbells and a punching bag and tells him his only purposes are to get stronger and protect his master. what then?

oh anon I LOVE this!! that would be awesome!!

he would be so scared at first, being stronger than his Master feels so so wrong, but then... he is already taller than him...

and he would find that he takes to fitness really well. it feels great, his mind is occupied, he can actually sleep heavily because he's tired at the end of the day now. and all the while he's working towards a goal. he feels useful

and then yes, soon Linden has the added bonus of a big hunky young man trailing after him every time he steps outside. he doesn't need the protection, but he finds the stares kind of funny. and Col's confidence is better than ever

and if anyone ever did try some shit with Linden, Col would have a lifetime's worth of trauma and rage to unload on that sorry fucker

[joontier]

Subliminal in Scrubs | V2; report xiii

pairings: dr. jeon jungkook x female reader

chapter rating: NC-17 | genre: humor, workplace relationships

warnings: swearing 

word count: 1.8k

g/n: decided on a bit of a filler for this one as a sort of prelude to future scenes 👀👀 ((likewise manifesting my plan to post another chapter this week))

[taglist]:  @nottodayjjk @ditttiii @zeharilisharaban @btsbunny07 @turquoiseandplaidinautumn @aamxxrii @codeinebelle @btsmakesmehappy @stargukkie @moonchild1​

Subliminal in Scrubs (the records) |  navi. | m.list

Jungkook locks his apartment door behind him, jiggling the doorknob afterwards for ‘double security’ as one would usually call it. He grabs his backpack from the floor and places one of the straps on his shoulders and heads on his way. As he passes by two of his neighbors who live in the same floor, he nods at them, adding a brief hum in greeting. 

“Hey man!” One of the men, Jikwang (as what Jungkook believes this man’s name was), calls out just before Jungkook reaches the elevator. “There was this hot girl asking about you last night.” 

Jungkook raises a brow. He hadn’t really met anyone recently, besides that one cute law student who was looking for a new tenant - and eventually turned out to be your neighbor this whole time. She was cute and all, but she didn’t seem like the type that was ‘hot’ to these types of people. 

Jungkook racks his brain for anything, trying to remember the very few number of his one night stands.Surely,none of them would have gotten pregnant with protection on….surely? On top of that, he hadn’t really disclosed his address to a lot of people too, so there was no way someone would be looking for him, all the more a “hot” woman,as these two would claim. 

“Did she say what her name was?” 

The one beside Jikwang shakes his head, adjusting his beanie. He’d seen this dude a couple of times hanging around, but he never actually got his name.  “Nah bro, I don’t think you’re the commitment type of dude…” he comments, dark eyes looking at Jungkook from his head down to his toe. Who was this guy anyways and who was he to judge whether Jungkook was the type to enter a committed relationship or not? 

“She just...looked rich, rich. She had a driver... who helped her come down from a nice Benz.” 

Jungkook feels his heart drop to the ground. No way in hell. 

“I think her name was Hee something...Junghwa? I dunno man, I’m not good with names. But it sounds similar to that…” 

“Was it Junghee?” 

“Yeah I think that’s it…” bonnet-dude replies, tapping a finger against his chin as he approaches Jungkook. “You think maybe you can set me up? With you know…” 

Jikwang knocks the back of bonnet-man’s head. “I got dibs first, shithead. “If she’s not already yours though,” he adds, delivering a wink aimed at Jungkook. “Her friends will do.” 

Jungkook squints his eyes at the duo. “No. She’s my sister. And she doesn’t have any friends.” A chill courses through his spine as he replies, wondering how she managed to find out where he lived, and why would she even reach out? Why now, when she had so many years to do so? 

Beanie guy simply laughs at him - if it was even considered laughing, when he was practically splitting his sides with laughter - like the thought of having a sister was hilarious to him. “You’re real funny, man. There is no...way...in hell… that that lady was your sister.” 

Ah yes, this man is a health vice personified. Jungkook notes the discoloration of his teeth, the god-awful odor coming from his mouth, and they both reek of alcohol and drugs combined. From a safe distance, Jungkook watches their amusement over the subject that is his sister, thinking about why he even indulged these two in the first place. For all he knows, they might have been shitting on him the whole time. 

“Sorry man. I mean...she’s rich and hot… and you?” Jikwang shrugs his shoulders. 

‘And he?’ What about him? 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? 

Jungkook clicks his tongue silently, clearly taking full offense with Jikwang’s statement. Did they just imply he didn’t look rich and hot too? Well, compared to them though, they’ll obviously have way longer to go. 

Jungkook blinks before equally returning their level of disbelief. “For real, bro?” These men diss him, won’t believe he has a sister whose aura dwarfs his by a million percent, and now they want him to set up a date with her? He shakes his head. Only crooks like these would say insane shit like this. 

If only this wasn’t the cheapest and most convenient apartment he could find to accommodate his daily hustle, Jungkook would have moved out of this crap excuse of an apartment building a long time ago. 

“Keep dreaming man.” 

“Hey, this is what I get for selling you my bike for a good price?” Jikwang eyes Jungkook, taunting him. 

“I owe you nothing. I paid for it ages ago.” Jungkook turns on his heel, leaving the two in the crusty ass corridor of their apartment building. He needs to get a new place. Quickly. 

With a sigh, he pulls on his down jacket, keeping himself warm as he walks to the garage. 

‘King Auto’ 

There’s a certain warmth that envelops Jungkook whenever he sees the garage, a place he’d rather call home than his terrible apartment building. It sits right at the corner of two busy streets, just six blocks away from his apartment. 

Funnily enough, it wasn’t him who first found out about the garage but the other way around. Well, technically, the owner did. Lee Dongmin, owner and manager of ‘King Auto’ repairs and restores almost all types of cars and bikes alike, occasionally servicing high-end cars on lucky days. 

Dongmin would usually see Jungkook pass by the garage in the morning on his way to the university or his part-time job.Well, being located at a busy street in the city of Seoul, there would normally be a lot of passersby but Dongmin knew these people either worked or lived around the area; Jungkook, however, always lingered when he walks past the garage. 

It had come to Dongmin’s knowledge a few months later that Jungkook purposefully used a longer route on his way, walking two extra blocks just so that he could pass by the garage. Dongmin hadn’t initially done anything about it, as he thought Jungkook simply took interest in cars - especially when the shop had its fair share of servicing cars from the western market. 

There was this particular day though one summer, that their paths would finally cross. Jungkook’s bike, the same bike he bought from sketchy Jikwang, broke down. Coincidentally just in front of King Auto too. Funnily enough, no one in the garage was familiar with fixing up bikes, but Jungkook simply asked if he could borrow a few tools and he’d fix his bike himself. 

Ultimately, Jungkook became part of the King Auto family. He’d spend his spare time in the garage when he’s not busy with his part-time jobs and on occasion, Jungkook gets to keep a tiny commission whenever he helps out with the repairs. 

Jungkook goes through the front door greeting the new receptionist, Clark, a good morning before heading straight to the garage. Jungkook spots a familiar shade of blue peeking through the scissor lifts, just by the end row. He practically dashes to the car in excitement, too thrilled to greet his favorite car he had worked on previously. 

“My baby!” The boy exclaims as he rests his chin on the Porsche Panamera’s roof. “Kook! Get your hands off that! I just had it cleaned!” gruffs Mansik from the other side of the car, flinging his towel at Jungkook who mumbles a sorry but continues to cradle the car, a little more gently this time. 

“If you continue doing that, you know a towel isn’t the only thing Mansik is going to throw at you.” Lee Dongmin’s voice is low, careful that the man he’s referring to won’t hear his words. “I’m glad he hasn’t resorted to tools yet...just a couple of smelly socks and a t-shirt that smells like it hasn’t been washed for months... “ 

“Fuckers.” True to Jungkook’s foreboding, Mansik does throw a sock ball from out of nowhere, one which barely misses Jungkook’s face. Dongmin simply shakes his head at his workers, who he has considered family at this point, Jungkook included. “I’m just glad none of that fell into my first coffee of the day.” Dongmin observes, drawing himself father from the Porsche and any flying objects later on. 

“By the way, the owner is actually here to pick up the car. I may or may not have mentioned your infatuation with it.” 

Jungkook almost instantly jumps to his feet, searching for the owner inside the garage, but disappointingly ending up with all the familiar faces at the garage. “Chill, kid. He just grabbed some coffee down the street,” Dongmin mentions as he takes a sip of his own. “Ah, speaking of the devil,” the latter states, nodding his head towards someone behind Jungkook. 

“Seokjin-sunbaenim?” 

“Oh hey! Wasn’t expecting to see you here...Jungkook, right?” 

“Yes sir!” Jungkook’s pupils shake, animatedly looking back and forth between the garage owner and his upper-level resident. “So...you’re the one who owns this Porsche?” Seokjin raises his cup, adding a small nod in Jungkook’s direction. He internalizes his excitement, before confessing his love for Seokjin’s Panamera. 

“And so, Dongmin here mentioned. Also said you were the one who fixed her up. Thanks man!” 

Dongmin looks at the two of them, eyebrows creased in the middle. “You two know each other?” 

“Seokjin-sunbaenim is a senior of mine at Woocheon.” Seemingly shellshocked at the new piece of information, Dongmin turns to Seokjin, “You’re a doctor?” The owner of the Porsche rolls his eyes fondly, “Yes, Dongmin. We can have lives outside the hospital too, you know.” 

“Anyways, ‘Mera’s ready to go yeah?” 

“Of course. Kook fixed it up just fine.” 

“Alright. Got a shift today man? Need a ride to the hospital?” 

Jungkook is tempted to give in, but merely fixing Seokjin’s car is enough honor for him and he can’t take advantage of his generosity. “No thank you, sunbae. I’ve already got a ride to work today.” Jungkook points to his bike on the other side of the garage. 

Seokjin tuts his disbelief. “You’re kidding me right? In this weather?” The older doctor points outside, then rubs his palm against his down coat. “No way in hell, kid. Get in the car.” 

“Really?” Jungkook mumbles, dimple on display as his lips form a thin line. Seokjin makes a hum of approval as he takes off his jacket while Jungkook dashes back to where he’d left his backpack. “He’s a good kid, Jungkook. Can be a bit of a delinquent sometimes, but he’s good. Take care of him, yeah?” 

“Huh,” Seokjin smirks, “this handsome face got nothing he can’t handle.” Dongmin rolls his eyes this time, “Seriously doubt we’re the same age honestly.” 

Jungkook returns to where the Porsche is parked, and Seokjin gets a spur-of-the-moment idea. The surgical resident throws his keys to Jungkook before settling inside the passenger seat. Jungkook, surprised as ever, simply stands there in surprise. “Well?” Seokjin asks, ducking towards the dashboard so he could take a look at Jungkook, “We’re gonna be late!” 

© joontier 2021

[babylooneytoonz]

the Vessel [ Pt. 14 ]

— pairing: Geralt of Rivia x reader

— summary: You, Geralt and Jaskier are on the road again, and something is on the Witcher's mind. How would you react to it?

— warnings: a lot of fluff🥺

*Please reblog if you like it, do not repost or claim my work as yours.

[My Masterlist] [My Witcher Masterlist - Read the other parts here!]

"I'm still here, you know?" Jaskier deadpanned, kicking a stone that came his way, cradling his long lost lute like a baby.

You chuckled at his words and sunk back into your lover's arms, who was seated on the mare behind you, your head now resting against his sturdy chest as you looked up at him and he looked down at you, smirking slightly.

"Come on Geralt, Jaskier's jealous. He thinks you've stopped focusing on him now that I'm here," you giggled playfully as Geralt shook his head, amused and craned his neck slightly, giving your earlobe a bite.

"Well, I'm not jealous, but I definitely feel like a third wheel, and in dire need of an inn—"

"Or a brothel," you added, and Geralt hummed in agreement with you, his thick, veiny arms locking around your now wide girth making you feel ticklish and squirm, "On a serious note, Geralt. Can we stop? I really need to take a piss. And a bath."

"Gosh, [Y/N]." Jaskier pretended to cover his ears dramatically, "You're the Princess of Cintra!"

"So?" You scowled, taking your foot out of the saddle and jutting out your leg so you could kick your friend's bottom but he dodged it, "Do princesses not take a piss? Besides, I am not a Princess anymore."

"What?" Geralt and Jaskier said out loud, together. And you nodded. Whelp. In all the drama, you had forgotten to actually tell them why you had run away. Or that— you had run away.

"Well, I sort of left it?" You drawled, absentmindedly and Geralt nudged you slightly, looking down at you, concerned.

"Why?" He raised a brow.

"Well, it seems that not only did the Witcher had some things to hide," Jaskier began, and you glared at him, "by the looks of it, you have something to tell us [Y/N]?"

You scowled, running your hand sheepishly through your hair and began clearing your throat, when Jaskier interrupted, "Don't tell me Queen Calanthe decided to name your baby Podrick."

You gave him a look of disbelief at first; but couldn't keep a straight face, as you bursted out laughing.

"What's wrong with the name Podrick for a boy?" You asked, wiggling your brows at him, and Geralt shook his head, faintly, silently amused.

"Well, Princess [Y/N], if you have a boy, you are naming him after me. Jaskier, obviously?" He smiled at you, wiggling his brows in retaliation.

"Or maybe, Dandelion?" You began, and both Jaskier and Geralt muttered, "No." At the same time.

"I won't have my son named after a flower, for fucks sake," he grumbled under his breath, and you pouted, pushing out your lower lip as you felt Geralt's palm ghost over your belly, protectively securing his palm over the bulge of it and you smiled.

"What happened in Cintra?" Geralt suddenly asked, manouvring the conversation back to where it had started from, and you looked down at your hands, rubbing them against the fabric of your dress.

"Mother wanted me to marry Foltest."

Upon hearing your words, the Witcher stiffened, his hand slowly pulling away. Suddenly, he tugged at Roach's reins so hard, the poor mare stopped."Ouch," you cursed under your breath, and then tried to pacify the sudden uncomfortable silence between the three of you by making small talk, "What?"

"I'm sorry but your mother wanted you to marry that sister fucker? Isn't that right Geralt?" Jaskier nudged your foot that was in the saddle and you sighed, your shoulders tensing slightly. Geralt was morosely quiet, and although he was a man of few words, you felt like this revelation was going to stop the progress that he was making with you.

"She thought that's the only way to protect me. And this baby. Because a lot of enemies will want to get their hands on me. Although, it's stupid, right? I mean, I have Geralt to take care of me," you muttered absentmindedly, staring at the flock of birds that flew past your mare.

It was only when Geralt cleared his throat, a little to coursely, that you craned your neck slightly towards him and noticed how his jaw had clenched, and he was fisting the reins in his grip.

"Shall we move on? We should reach a village in an hour or two. We can see if an inn can accomodate us," he bluntly added, and you blinked, looking down at Jaskier and giving him a questioning look.

Lucky for the three of you, the three of you reached a nearby village sooner than you had expected. By that time, you were exhausted; your body sore at all the odd spots that you couldn't even put a name to or say it out loud. Geralt helped you get off Roach, his movements being tender, but he did not even once, try to talk to you.

The three of you entered the tavern, Jaskier leading the way in while you waddled through in the middle, as much as your bump allowed you to move. Geralt was in the extreme end, and you couldn't see much of him, or hear from him, except for a few occasional grunts you received.

Geralt got the three of you the last of the two rooms that were available and Jaskier disappeared into the first one, leaving you and Geralt to settle down in your own shared room.

You sat down by the edge of the bed, the bed creaking when you put your weight on it. Geralt placed his sword by the chair, before his hands came to rest against the fabric of his shirt and he started prying it off.

"Are you going to say something?" You finally asked, pulling both your hands together and rubbing them as though you were cold, "You've been sulking ever since I told you about what happened in Cintra."

Geralt grunted under his breath, and instead of replying to you, he moved past you to where a metal bathing tub, big enough to fit in the two of you, had already been set out, the water warm, and steam arising out of it. Geralt lowered his slacks, letting it fall to the floor as he stepped out of it, practically ignoring you. You could hear the sound of him wading into the water.

Sighing to yourself, you slowly lifted yourself off the edge of the bed, and turned to face the witcher, who was now seated against the tub, his arms holding the sides of the tub as he looked at you. Slowly, you let your tunic drop to the floor as you stepped out of it. It would have been a lie to say that you felt sexy, especially with your baloon belly that didn't let you look down at your feet. But you really needed that warm bath, to cure the soreness you were feeling.

Geralt threw out his palm towards you when he saw you step into the bathtub and you were thankful for it. He helped you get in and finally, you settled yourself in between the Witcher's legs, letting the back of your head rest against his sturdy chest, feeling the rise and the fall of it, "You're angry with me."

"Not with you. I'm just angry in general," Geralt retorted, and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him.

"I'm not marrying Foltest. You should know that. Not after all that happened between us." You stared at the ceiling, while Geralt scooped some water into his palms and poured them on top of your head, trying to give you a head bath.

"When you said that, it got me thinking," Geralt suddenly began, as his fingers began to lather against your wet hair, his fingers rubbing through your scalp, making all the tension and the knots in your body melt away, but what words followed afterwards, only made the tension once again spiral back, "What happens once you give birth? Will you and the baby travel and be on the roads with a fucking Witcher? Who cannot settle in one place?"

"Geralt, where is all this coming from?" You turned to face him, letting your legs slide behind his body, with your baby bump now between you and his body forming a shield around it.

"Just got me thinking.. what kind of a life am I gonna be able to give you?"

Your fingers were now drawing intrinsic patterns over his chest, but your eyes were looking into his, trying to reach out to the man that hid beneath the facade of a cold, unemotional Witcher, "I don't care Geralt, all I know is that I want you."

"I want you too but I am thinking of your future." He said, stroking the side of your face with his wet thumb.

"I don't care if our love's forbidden, all I care about is that I want to be with you, I want us to raise our baby together," you slowly dropped your hand into the water, your hand finding his as you clasped your fingers with his and pulled out his hand. You brought it up to your baby bump, placing your hand tenderly over his. Geralt's breathing hitched, his huge palm draped protectively over your unborn baby and you smiled at him.

"I'm scared I will disappoint you. We Witchers weren't exactly meant to be domestic," He brought your palm up to his lips and planted a warm, chaste kiss on the inside of your palm, "I'm going to disappoint you and our baby. And you're going to hate me for the life I couldn't give you."

"No you won't. You underestimate yourself. You might be intimidating and cold on the exterior Geralt, but you—" Your smile widened, and Geralt popped his brow up, waiting for you to continue, "You are one big softie secretly."

"No, I'm not," he said, sounding fake serious.

"Oh yes, you are. You're a big bear," you playfully pulled your hand away from his, and splashed him with water. His eyes widened when the splash hit him, his lips pursing together.

"Geralt, I — I'm sorry."

"Oh, no love. This is war."

Geralt used his two hands to scoop as much water as he could and splashed you back and you let out a playful screech, "Geralt!"

"What? You called it. Come on now."

Geralt towered over the bathtub, the towel wrapped securely around his waist, covering his manhood, droplets of water rolling down his chest and his calves. He threw out a palm towards you and you whined; the water was too soothing for your exhausted body and you didn't want to get out. But there was no standing against the White Wolf. He slowly helped you up, making you stand, and carefully holding you by your waist so you didn't slip, as the pads of your feet were wet; he waited patiently for you to step out.

"Worried I'll catch a cold? I'm stronger that that." You drawled as you placed your hand into his.

Once you were out, he slowly turned you towards him to face him and wrapped a towel around your frame, using it to tap dry you all over.

"You pamper me, love," you smiled, letting your palm rest against your chest as he now worked to dry your hair.

"This is nothing compared to the happiness you are gifting me with."

You gave him a weak smile as you sat down by the edge of the bed, and slid into your comfortable slip, pulling it over your face and your neck, letting your eyes shut. After a few seconds, you opened your eyes, only to find the Witcher kneeling down between your legs, his eyes on your belly.

"You would never have been possible if it wasn't for your mother," Geralt whispered to your stomach in a tender way, momentarily glancing up into your eyes.

"Mhm, don't listen to the crap this man is feeding you with, Podrick."

"Not with that name again, [Y/N]." Geralt grumbled under his breath, but you could see a hint of a smirk playing on his lips. He let his forehead rest against your bump as he fluttered his eyes shut and inhaled your sweet fragrance, his hands holding you from your hips, "Besides, I have a feeling it's going to be a little girl, with eyes like her mother. She is going to take over on you. Not that I would have it any other way."

"Oh, Witcher, my Witcher ," You pulled him up to sit next to you as you leaned in to kiss him, and he slowly arched forward, his lips melting into yours as he mumbled between the kiss, "You might be a future Queen of Cintra, but you are my queen this day forward."

When you pulled apart, licking your lips, tasting the aftermath of Geralt's lips on you, you suddenly grabbed his wrists, and smiled cheekily, "let me do your braids, love."

"Go to sleep," he grumbled, moving away but you caught his hand again, giving him a sad pout, "Please?"

"Fine," he grumbled as he sat down on the floor in front of you, his back turned towards you, his elbows resting on his knees as he turned his gaze to the side, instead of turning to face you completely, "only this once." He turned back around, a small smile playing on his lips. Who was he kidding, he wanted you to braid his hair every single day. He fluttered his eyes shut, letting out an exhale as your fingers dug through his scalp, pulling his hair back.

Geralt woke up rather abruptly.

He sat up in bed, squirming slightly but when he turned towards you, sleeping peacefully on your side, your arm protectively draped over your beautiful bump, his heart swelled twice the size it was. You looked so innocent, so pure and you were his.

Gently, he pried the covers off, sliding his feet to the edge until the pads of his feet were resting against the cold ground. He stood up, and grabbed his discarded clothes that were strewn all over the floor, sliding into his slacks before he pulled his crumpled tunic over his head.

He turned to look at your sleeping form once before he slowly walked out of the bedroom, ensuring to let the door close as quietly as possible.

He dragged himself downstairs. He was starving after the night, but all he needed was a pitcher of ale to set him up. The tavern was empty, except for one or two men who did not have a steady job, so they had found themselves drinking at the tavern. The usual rush came in the evening.

Holding his pitcher in his left hand, he made his way to a table in the back, that overlooked the window. He sat down, huddling in a corner, bringing the pitcher up to his lips, when someone slammed himself in the chair in front of him.

"Rough night?"

"Speak for yourself, Jaskier, " Geralt smirked, as he brought the pitcher to his lips, eyeing him.

"Why on earth do you think I am hiding in a corner like this?" Jaskier blinked, wiggling his brows.

"Jaskier, don't drag me into the messes you create," Geralt hummed, taking a sip of the ale.

"You look different. You have a glow. Now I am curious. Did [Y/N] give you a beauty treatment?" He said smugly, letting his elbows rest against the table as he grabbed a piece of meat and tossed it into his mouth.

When Geralt didn't reply, Jaskier arched his body even more forward, leaning almost close to Geralt and Geralt scowled.

"I see you let her braid your hair."

"Fuck off," Geralt murmured, tight-lipped. He would have said more, but something in the back caught his attention, and his jaw dropped. Jaskier, following Geralt's gaze, slowly turned towards the direction where Geralt was looking at and that's when he saw what he was staring at— it was you.

You were standing by the counter, in a long, flowy dress, a beautiful white flower fixed to your hair, talking to the owner of the tavern. You slowly looked up from whatever you were talking to the owner about, and as though you had felt his eyes on him, you looked right at Geralt, the corners of your lips tugging into a warm smile. Jaskier looked from you back to Geralt, noting the smile that had formed on his friend's lips as you made your way towards him.

"Morning, husband. What do we have in here for breakfast? Your baby is starving," you gave Jaskier a wink, and Jaskier's jaw dropped, as he spat out the ale that he was drinking, splashing it all over the table, coughing and hitting his chest as though something was lodged into his throat.

You and Geralt looked at each other, and Geralt sat back, patting on his thigh as you sat doen on his lap, and Geralt locked his arm around you. "What did you say?" Jaskier asked, standing up, his hands on his hips, "HUSBAND?! You're married now? What happened in that bedroom last night?"

"Words, words, words and confessions?" Geralt's arm held you steady on his lap and you turned towards him, your nose touching his as you bit your lip, "Well, the Butcher of Blaviken declared he wanted to live his action packed life with me."

Geralt grumbled under his breath; and you kissed the tip of his nose, biting it teasingly, "Now husband? Where's the food?"

Geralt smacked your thigh playfully, and you immediately stood up, before Geralt was up too, "On it, woman."

A/N: okay for those who are wondering if they missed a chapter in between, wherein they got married then no you did not. I didn't write their wedding descriptively. They got married at the inn during the night, which I chose not to write because I had no freaking idea how to😂

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Want to be added to the list? Plz let me know via my ask box, inbox and comments. ✨

[cheesyficwriter]

I loved your last Rarry brotp fic! Can you please write one about Ron getting himself hurt during an Auror mission because he wanted to safe Harry? And Harry getting mad at him for saving him and getting himself in danger instead? I hope you understand what I mean 🤪 Thank you!

Hi there! Thanks so much for the request. I absolutely loved writing that drabble, and was overwhelmed by the pleasant response to it! Hope you enjoy this follow-up 😊💜

We Live - Rarry brotp drabble #1

CW: Talk of violence, injury, mild language

A True Partnership

In some ways, Harry believed that he and Ron had trained to become Aurors since they were 11 years old. Together, they were held accountable for any decisions made under extreme duress year after year at Hogwarts and beyond — quite frankly, they both, along with Hermione, should have been killed several times over by now.

For many years, Harry had an instinctual fight-or-flight response to the dire circumstances that presented themselves. He knew that every move he made affected his future, and the future of those around him in the wizarding world that he tried desperately to protect. 

Fast forward to the fall of 1998 when Harry and Ron underwent basic training together. During that time, they learned advanced tactics they would utilize in order to suppress any enemies, and were taught magical jurisprudence, ensuring that they apprehended criminals on legally valid grounds. For two men who consistently broke school rule after school rule at Hogwarts, this particular aspect of training was harped upon more than others.  

The Auror Academy was very stringent, and not for the faint of heart — Aurors needed a certain level of mental alertness and physical strength to engage in conflict. They had to have a willingness to act in high-stake situations. Split-second decisions would be made, with no certifiable way in those moments to determine whether or not those decisions would be the right ones. Training is meant to prepare Aurors for crises that may arise, but real missions out in the field often present the unexpected — what many don’t see coming. 

That’s what partners were for. A true partnership was built upon the following principles: trust, commitment, and shared meaning. 

Trust: Ensure that your partner unequivocally has your back in any situation, from a Dementor attack to preventing further mutiny, and will be there to cover up your blind spots. 

There was no one in the world that Harry trusted more than Ron Weasley, so his best mate was the obvious choice to be his partner out in the field. It took Harry a long time after the defeat of Voldemort for him to grasp that he no longer needed to be so guarded. In the event that Harry ever let down his defenses, he had full confidence that Ron would be there ready to assist. 

So, it shouldn’t have surprised Harry that there would come a time when he wouldn’t be quick enough, or stealthy enough, and Ron would be there to respond. 

It all happened so fast. One minute they were joking about pranking each other with puking pastilles, and the next moment they were surrounded by Death Eaters.  

“Harry, watch out!” 

A split-second decision. 

That single decision made by Ron to warn Harry of the danger distracted the ginger-haired man from his own, and a flash of red light shot straight through his abdomen. Harry watched in horror as Ron’s injured body crumpled to the ground. 

“No!” Harry shouted, and the fight to stay alive was a blur from there. All he knew was that he had to survive the battle — he had to survive and get his best friend, his partner, to safety. 

Commitment: The act of sharing a mutual appreciation. Both partners should be on board to protect each other for the long haul. 

Several agonizing hours later, Harry found himself pacing the floors of the Janus Thickey Ward at St. Mungo’s. 

A Healer finally came out to give an update on Ron. Although pretty bruised up, and drowsy from the pain potion, he was okay and conscious. 

Beside him, Harry heard Hermione let out a strangled cry of relief. 

They allowed two visitors in at a time, so Harry and Hermione rushed down the busy corridor and practically threw themselves through the door to get to Ron. 

He was sitting up in his bed, a large, white bandage wrapped around his stomach, and his leg was propped up by a levitating sling. Ron's face, although initially contorted in pain, visibly brightened once he saw both of them. 

Hermione wasted no time running into Ron's arms, who responded by giving her a weak pat on the back that was no doubt meant to be comforting. "Hi, love."

Hermione sniffled as she kissed his cheek and pulled away, stepping back to allow Harry a moment to greet his best friend. 

When Ron's eyes shifted towards Harry expectantly, he laughed, "I dodged a bludger there, didn't I?" His face fell as he spotted the furious expression on Harry's face. 

"You," Harry glared at Ron, pointing a menacing finger in his direction. "I need to have a chat with you." 

Ron opened his mouth to speak, but Harry didn't give him the chance. 

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left armpit were you thinking out there?"

"You could have gotten yourself killed!" Hermione piggy-backed off Harry's interrogation, a flurry of words streaming out through her mouth. "I mean, really Ron, out of all of the noble things you had to do, you think that—"

"Oi, knock it off, Hermione!" With a frustrated growl, Ron snatched his wand from the side table and whooshed closed the drapes around his bed, hiding Hermione from view. He then muttered a silencing charm for added effect.  

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Do you even realize what you’ve just done?” He didn’t want to be there to witness the aftermath of Ron’s decision to shut out Hermione. 

"I've already got you yelling at me, I don't need my girlfriend screaming in my ear, too, thank you very much,” Ron grumbled, letting his head fall back onto his pillow with a heavy sigh. 

Harry crossed his arms. "Well you wouldn't need us to chatter on as such if you hadn't very nearly kicked the bucket."

"Well, o'course not," Ron snapped. "I just saved your life, and all, but I'm the one who was in the wrong."

"I wouldn't have needed saving if you'd had just followed protocol and attacked those gits right away instead of worrying about me." 

"One of those fuckers had a wand aimed at the back of your head, what was I supposed to do?" Ron fought back. 

It was then that Harry realized Ron saw what he couldn't. His blind spot. A wave of guilt washed over him, and Harry knew he had no right to argue further.  

Ron looked down at his lap, his voice quiet. "When are you going to get it through your head that you can't always do it all by yourself, mate?"

The impact of Ron's words made Harry take a step back. The harsh silence that followed indicated to Ron that he was free to continue,

“We are a team. Partners. I know you’re so bloody proud, Potter, but you can’t expect to make the right decision every time. I am here to back you up. Always.”

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes, overwhelmed by the love he felt for his best friend, his partner in crime, his brother. 

Shared meaning: An understanding or appreciation for your partner, and what values they stand for. 

Harry and Ron had managed their fair share of conflict over the years, finding the ability to compromise, solve problems, and take on the world together. They turned towards each other on a daily basis, whether it's to share a laugh over the strangest topics or provide emotional support. 

Their relationship went beyond a simple partnership. They were family. A unit. 

Harry choked out a laugh, "Okay, then. But it's my turn to be the hero next time, you hear?" 

A wide grin split across Ron's face. "Not if I beat you to it."

The drapes whooshed open again, revealing a very put out Hermione. "You two aren't honestly fighting over who gets to risk their life next, are you?" 

Harry and Ron share sheepish smiles, and a mutual understanding passes through them. 

Friendship is forever, and they will never stop finding ways to prove that. 

[gaysimpsstuff]

Flightless Birds Chapter Three; Where Birds Belong

Chapter One Here

Chapter Two Here

Chapter Four Here

Chapter Five Here

Summary: After visiting Kouten in the hospital, Y/n gets more and more ‘gifts’ from their stalker. But what are they supposed to do when it gets to be too much? Make a huge mistake, that’s what.

Word Count: 2.4K Words

Warnings: cursing, intrusive thoughts, mentions of masturbation, unwanted sexual letters, threats, police officers, implied drugging

Other: the first half of this chapter was meant to be in the previous chapter, but since Tumblr is a bitch I couldn’t do that and it was pushed here. 

Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @cathy8taffy @1small-frogs @catcherisvibin @waffleareniceandfluffy @mandalorian-baby-bird @theblueslytherin @hawksadmirer @assassinslittlesister @deepcollectorphantom (lemme know if you wanna be added to or removed from the taglist)

Numb. 

Was that the right word to describe how you were feeling?

Your heart was hammering away in your chest, and your whole body felt light as a feather.

Your head was foggy, and you felt like the world beneath you was shifting, tumbling around like the tectonic plates of your life were slamming and crashing into each other.

When you arrived at home, there was another ‘gift’ waiting for you. You picked it up and brought it inside. You knew you should probably just ignore all the packages and throw them away, but you just couldn’t.

Why? Why must your curiosity be satiated like this?

Today, it was a teddy bear. A red string was wrapped around its neck. You sighed, setting it on the nightstand with the other ‘gifts.’ 

More and more gifts started to arrive over the next week and a half. Clothes you’d expressed interest in, small shiny things, key-chains, and a couple more dead animals. You were sick and tired of it, and you were stressed out of your mind.

You hadn’t slept in days, you were hardly eating, your weird stalker had started leaving notes talking about you. They knew things about you that they shouldn’t know, it was getting to be too much. You felt heavy and cotton-headed. 

Calls from unknown numbers appeared every day now, and most of them included you just saying ‘hello?’ Into the phone until the caller hung up.

You were so tired, and so freaked out. 

Paranoia flooded your mind about your stalker breaking into your house and hurting you. 

But you felt so selfish. All your stalker was doing was creeping you out. You hadn’t actually been hurt yet, however Kouten was in the fucking hospital! He had almost been killed and you were worried about a few creepy notes.

How much of a horrible person were you?

You had one comfort; him. 

Izanagi.

You’d been spending less and less time at your flat, and more time with Izanagi. You spent every other night at his house, and you’d gotten so used to sleeping in the same bed as him that you felt you couldn’t sleep without his gentle touches and soft breaths.

Everything about him calmed you, his gentle green eyes, the constellation of freckles on his cheeks, that one tooth in his mouth that was twisted to the left, the days when he forgot to do laundry and you had to fold his clothes, you loved it all.

Your feet hit the pavement too hard as you approached your home. The stray tabby cat of your neighborhood dashing away from your front door as you approached.

You looked down, exhausted.

There was a rectangle of white on your welcome mat, your name printed in the fancy kanji of your stalker’s handwriting.

You slowly lifted it off of the ground, entering your home. Everything was quiet…

Too quiet.

You sat down on the edge of the bed, flinching at the sound of the mattress creaking under your weight. Slowly, you peeled open the envelope, unfolding the letter. Your eyes scanned down the words, nervous.

Dear Y/n.

You’ve been getting all my presents, right? Gosh I do hope you enjoy them. I can’t believe I’m finally writing you a letter! It’s so exhilarating, you know? 

I’ve never felt like this before, ever. Nothing even came close. God Y/n, I’m so in love with you! Do you know? I’ve been courting you this whole time! We’re birds of a feather, both lazy as fuck but so vulnerable.

I wish I didn’t have to hurt Yuu like I did, but that little bitch had to die. Unfortunately he survived, how tragic.

You stopped reading looking up for a moment. You were right! Your stalker had been connected to Kouten’s attack! That… didn’t feel very nice. You thought you’d feel better about it, but now you just felt sick.

It was your fault Kouten was hurt.

I could understand he was close to you, I hated that. I would have gone for Fujikawa, but he’s surprisingly cautious. You’d think he’d be more reckless, being as fucking stupid as he is, but nooo. 

I’ll have mercy on him, I’m sure it’d just make you upset to see him dead anyways. But I swear, go near him again and I’ll kill him. 

I don’t wanna talk about that in my first real letter with you, so instead I’ll just talk about you.

How breathtaking you are.

How fucking gorgeous you are.

Y’know, you really are fucking amazing, you think I didn’t see? You really took the time to appreciate yourself yesterday, I think that was your way of saying you loved me back! Touching yourself… oh fuck you looked so hot.  Think I didn’t hear? I really wish I was there, fucking you the way you need. I’d give you everything you’ll ever need. You won’t need anything but me. 

Baby you’ve just given me my next month’s worth of masturbation material.

Remember, I love you!

    -Your future husband

No. Fuck fuck no. Gross get out drop it throw up rip it to shreds hurt smash something scream no no no no no get out get it out get it out find him report him police heroes what the fuck Izanagi-

Izanagi.

Izanagi.

Hey siri, call Izanagi.

“Yo, Y/n! What’s up? Miss me already~” Izanagi. His voice relaxed you and you found your brain forming coherent thoughts again. You opened your mouth to confess what was happening, but nothing came out. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

Then you cried. 

It felt so good to finally cry, you hadn’t cried in what felt like years, sobbing and looping his name, your only comfort in this chaos.

“Woah, woah, hey what’s going on? Hang on I’m coming over, don’t you fucking dare hang up!”

You sniffed, nodding, continuing to just mutter his name. In Just under five minutes, he was letting himself in with the spare key. You felt the bed shift, and you felt his warmth next to you. You fell against his side, crying harder. He held onto you, rubbing at your sides.

“Hey, hey. Come on, what happened? Tell me!” you could hear the fear in his voice. You still didn’t feel like you could speak so you just shakily handed him the letter you received, hoping he’d understand your reaction once he saw what you’d gotten.

His eyes scanned the paper before widening, and he covered his mouth with his hand. He dropped the paper, standing up and grabbing a suitcase from your closet and starting to fill it with clothes. He moved with haste, and you noticed he was grabbing your favorite clothes.

The sweatshirt he’d gifted you for Valentine’s Day, the Edgeshot t-shirt you wore every other day, the sweatpants you always slept in, 

“W-what are you doing?” you whimpered.

“You really think I’d let you stay here when some fucker obviously is watching you? I’m gonna report this to the police. No one is going to hurt you, okay? No one hurts my friends!” he turned back to you, a hard look in his eyes. You had a feeling that if he ever ran into your stalker, it would take multiple top heroes to hold him back from killing the guy.

You were grateful.

Izanagi helped you pack, and you told him all the other details. How it started with the Hawks beanie, how you’d gotten bottle caps and sweatshirts, and even dead animals. How you felt too scared to tell anyone, afraid of getting blown off.

He comforted you, he promised you he’d protect you. You felt safe with him. He would protect you. You thanked him religiously as he helped you bring your things over to his place. He kept telling you that of course he’d be doing this, it was the right thing to do.

This man… this man was your rock. He was your everything. You knew there’d be no way to fully repay him for his kindness towards you, but you promised yourself you’d try. 

You sat on his bed again, realizing that for the time being, this was your bed too. He was beside you, holding you tight and comforting you. You relaxed into his touch, before a realization struck you.

“Izanagi- he threatened to kill you. He hurt Kouten too, he- he can probably kill you if he really wants to.” Izanagi shook his head, pressing a finger to your lips.

“Nothing, I swear nothing is going to happen to me. Okay? Now, we’re going to the police station. You will not leave my sight, you will not let go of my hand. You’re not gonna wander off without telling me, etc etc. Clear?”

“Crystal.” you smiled softly, nodding. “Thank you so much Iza.”

“Like I said, of fucking course I’d do this. Come on, let’s get in the car.” he took your hand, putting your stalker’s letter in his pocket and taking you with him back out to his car. You got in the back, and he drove quickly. He glanced back at you repeatedly, double and triple-checking you were there and safe. 

  Finally, he pulled up at the police station and got out, quickly running around to the back doors as you got out. His hand was instantly on yours, pulling your body close against his and walking in the station with you. He briskly walked up to the police lady behind the counter.

“Oh, hello! Is there something I can do for the two of you?” she asked, it was so sweet and cheerful, so vastly different from the emotions swirling around in your mind.

“Yes, here.” Izanagi pulled the letter from his pocket and handed it to the lady. “My friend has a stalker, and he’s attacked another one of our friends.” the woman looked over the letter, nodding.

“Alright, I’m going to have some officers talk to your friend in private and-”

“Not happening.” Izanagi growled. “I get it, but I’m not leaving my friend.”

“I- I want him in the room.” you added. “Please.” the woman sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, but unless you are a minor, I can’t have anyone else in the room with you. Even then it would be limited to certain people. It’s a safety precaution.”

“Fuck!” You grabbed Izanagi’s arm, rubbing his bicep to calm him down. He turned to you, offering you a strained smile. “You’ll be okay, right?” he asked, worried. You nodded, a feeble attempt to comfort him.

He gave the officers that came in a hard look, like he expected them to hurt you. You broke away from Izanagi’s comfort and followed them into a questioning room.

There were so many questions.

Every little detail about your life, even things that didn’t seem all that important. You told them everything you told Izanagi, plus a little more. They weren’t very comforting, and when you got scared, they got angry. It wasn’t at all like Izanagi, who softened when you were upset. Any detail that you didn’t have, they seemed to be upset with you about it. As if you were supposed to do your own little investigation illegally. It was… very annoying.

“Alright, we’re going to call a hero in here.” one of the officers told you. “Hawks has been doing a lot more patrols in your area than usual, he might have already seen your stalker and can probably take care of it for you. Is that okay?”

Hawks. You’d just met him one. He was a hero. He was trusted, beloved even. 

Call him in. He’s Hawks. He’s the number two. He wasn’t creepy, just do it!

“That’s fine, I’ll talk to Hawks.”

Maybe you should have thought about it more.

Maybe you should have trusted that feeling in your gut telling you ‘no.’

Maybe you shouldn’t have told Izanagi. 

Maybe you shouldn’t have involved the police.

Maybe you shouldn’t have spoken with Hawks so casually when you met him.

Maybe you shouldn’t have been a bird.

Maybe then.

You’d be free as you once were.

It took five minutes. Then the door swung open and he walked in. It had been a week or so since you saw him, but when he layed his golden eyes on you, you got the feeling that you’d seen him only yesterday, in a flash of red in the dead of night.

“Hello, Y/n L/n.” He spoke calmly, but you noticed a slight tremor of excitement. Why was he so happy to see you? 

You felt chills run down your spine at the way he sat next to you, taking your hand and rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. His whole body seemed to vibrate in happiness, his wings fluttering as he locked eyes with you.

You shyed away from him, desperately trying to take your hands back, but his grip was firm. There was no escape.

“I-I changed my mind, officer!” You turned to the policeman, who was just leaving the room, leaving you with him. “I don’t want to talk to a hero, I’m sorry!”

The man turned back to you, a lazy, amused, smirk on his face. 

“Don’t worry, he’s a pro. You’ll be fine.” The man waved you off, shutting the door behind him. You felt like screaming, or throwing up, or both.

Something about Hawks seemed off. The way he looked at you, touched you, grinned so wildly at you, he didn’t look like a hero.

He looked like a crazed lunatic.

Click

The officer had locked the door.

“U-um, hi, Hawks.” you whispered, voice quiet. Fuck you wished Izanagi was here to comfort you. Hawks’ gloves were cold, the beaten leather rough against your hands, they were nothing like the gentle warmth that Izanagi’s soft skin emitted. 

His grin only grew, and he pulled you close to him, arms reaching around under your wings to grip your back. You squeaked, instinctively grabbing onto his biceps. His body was pressed against yours, and his breathing quickened, his face buried into your shoulder. You could feel him inhaling your scent.

“Fuck.” he growled, and you could feel his talons digging into your skin through his gloves and your shirt. “You have no idea how happy I am to finally see you again.” his voice wavered, and you could practically feel his excitement.

“S-sir, please let me go-” you whimpered. “I’m here to report a crime, not as a fan trying to meet you.” the hero cooed, only holding you tighter. 

“I know why you’re here, dear Y/n~” his breath tickled your ear, and you felt tears brimming in your eyes. “And I know who’s been following you. So nice of him to send you all those gifts, right~?” 

No

“So cruel of you to act like he’s a criminal.”

Not like this 

“He’s going to take good care of you~” 

Not right now 

“I love you so much”

Ow.

You felt... foggy.

And warm, really warm.

Tired…

So… tired…

Darkness.

[everlarkficexchange]

Clubbing 101

Written by @alliswell21

Prompt 144: She has a night of fun before the start of the semester. She meets this guy, they hit it off that they sleep together. But when she shows up to her class the next day, she sees the guy again. But he’s her professor and he’s way older than she originally thought. #olderPeeta [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rating: Explicit. NSFW. 

Tags and Warnings: Canon Divergence; College!AU; Age gap, older man/younger woman; The opposite to slow burn? Smut; Unprotected sex; technically impaired consent since alcohol, but their both into each other while sober too 🤷🏻‍♀️; Ethical dilemmas; Teacher/Student relationship (sort of); One Shot, with an ambiguous open ending? Almost 10K words. Unbetaed. 

Notes: Thank you to the moderators once more for putting up with us, procrastinating writers. You gals are saints! Thank you to @animekpopxx for her amazing prompts that never fail to snag my attention and give me the best ideas ever! You rock! I projected this story to be a smutty short thing, but it sprouted words and a background out of nowhere and I had to forced myself to stop adding to it, to get back to my other submissions waiting in my docs. Hopefully, it’s a good read for the ones who take the chance with it. 

Thank you all! 

KPKPKPKPKP

It starts with a harmless ranting. 

“I’m not outgoing, or fun. I’m not even ‘cool’… hell, I don’t care what my sister says, I’m too old for this place!” I tell the handsome, bearded, guy sitting in the barstool next to me, “She’s a med student, you know, but she insists that partying is part of the college experience, especially when one’s career is so demanding… plus, is the last weekend of summer break, which apparently means you’re contractually obligated to party extra hard,” I roll my eyes, “I never saw the appeal personally, but I let her drag me out here so I can keep an eye on her. Is not like I’m gonna let her piss away her future for a night of clubbing,” I scoff, taking a long pull of my beer.

The guy chuckles, but I’m not done just yet. 

I slam down my bottle and continue listing my grievances, “The thing that grinds my gears, is that she begged for a ‘girls’ night out’, and instead of drinking with me and people watch, she goes off with the first fucker that asks her to dance! I mean… did it ever occur to her, I may want to dance with her on OUR girls’ night out?!” I scowl and gulp another mouthful of beer, “then, to add insult to injury, thirty minutes later I get a text from her, saying to go on home without her ‘cause she found a ride, followed by that cursed eggplant emoji, like I needed an illustration of what kind of ride she’s getting,” I mock gag, rearranging the strap of my tiny purse across my chest. 

 “I guess she’s young, and beautiful, and does work very hard, but if you invite me to go clubbing with you, don’t abandon me within the first 15 minutes of arriving!”

My companion winces before sipping his drink, and smiling ruefully, “That’s harsh… sorry you’re having a shitty night,”

“Meh… little sisters, right?!” I shrug. 

The guy smiles crookedly at me, and I find myself enjoying his smile, “I wouldn’t know about that. I’m the baby of three brothers, and the only thing I got away with was learning how to wrestle and spring awesome comebacks on the fly… the brutes kept me on my toes,” he chuckles. 

“Three boys? Sounds chaotic. Your poor mother!” 

“Yeah… life’s chaotic.” He averts his eyes for a second, his smile goes away. I’m afraid I’ve said something wrong, but he suddenly looks back at me, and confesses, “I’m not into clubbing either.” His eyes sparkle, despite the awful, dim, blue lights bathing the place. 

I smile, “Look at us wallflowers, bonding over drinks and sibling shenanigans,” we clink our drinks together and sip. I’m chatty and relaxed, so unlike myself; I guess the two beers I’ve had are starting to get to me. “I’m Katniss, by the way.”

“That’s pretty,” he says, shyly; makes my chest warm up. “Nice to meet you, Katniss. I’m Peeta.”

I arch my eyebrows, “Peter?” I repeat, because I’m pretty sure I miss-heard him over the obnoxiously loud music. 

The guy shakes his head, “Pee-ta… like the bread?” He chuckles. Then adds, “Family name. Everyone on my dad’s side are bakers.” 

I snort-laugh, “Punny!” I say, taking another sip. Yup, beer’s getting to me, I’m not this cleverly funny. “My dad was into survivalism and botany… I’m named after a plant also known as Duck Potato, so I win the weird name competition!” 

“Hey, it’s something else to bond over,”

“Cheers to that!” We clink our drinks again, and partake in our booze. 

He orders another whiskey neat when he’s out… sounds both snooty and distinguished at the same time. Goes well with his put together image, though: nicely trimmed beard, nicely combed hair, nice polo shirt with what I believe is a tiny loaf of bread embroidered on the chest, and dark-wash jeans… I think. It’s hard to tell under the black lights of the club. 

He offers to get me another drink, and I order an appletini.

“J.D. from Scrubs always drank one,” I explain, swirling the coctel in my hand, “I’ve always been curious to try, but didn’t wanna spend my own money experimenting on a drink I could potentially hate.” 

“Makes sense,” Peeta says, “So… what’s the verdict?” 

“Is pretty good, actually. But I think I’ll stick with my Miller Light,” 

Peeta nods, “I honestly don’t enjoy alcohol that much.”

I giggle. “Then, what brings you to this fine establishment tonight, sir, if you’re not much for clubbing, or drinking?” I watch him out of the corner of my eye. 

I like that when he smiles, his eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I lost a bet against a colleague.”

“Oh,” I’m suddenly self conscious and a little uncomfortable. I give the guy a scrutinizing look, and ask suspiciously, “what was the punishment exactly?” 

The man rolls his eyes. “I have to spend one whole hour in the club, without criticizing anything, like the bitter old man I am,” he grins, “My friend’s words. Not mine!” He raises both hands, claiming innocence. 

I laugh at the face he pulls, “Well, you’ve just defaulted on that punishment,”

“How so?” He beams. 

“With the look in your face! It spoke volumes!” 

“Am I that transparent?” 

“You read like a preschooler’s board book, pal!” 

We both laugh, I drink my beer, and he throws back his whiskey neat. 

“So…” he makes a show of looking at his watch, “I still have 33 minutes to kill before I’m allowed to run out of this place… I know I’m not a Med student, co-Ed, sister of yours, but… would you, um, like to dance with me?” He sounds adorably hopeful. 

I glance at the man sideways, toying with my bottle. 

He smirks, mischievously, “I promise, spirits make me more coordinated on the dance floor. I become this amazing dancer when I have a couple of drinks on… or so my brain believes. I probably look like an idiot, but I’m too goofy to know the difference. You’re welcome to be the judge it for yourself,”

I take my sweet time finishing the last dregs of my beer, and wrinkle my nose, “You sure you wanna dance to this shit, kids call music nowadays?” I smirk, pointing a finger up, motioning wide circles into the ether. 

Peeta gives a full belly laugh.

I really do like his laugh! 

“Isn’t it our only choice?” He ventures. 

Not if you follow me home, my thirsty brain supplies; my lips on the other hand, just let through a hint of a smile, because I’m buzzed, but not drunk enough to proposition a total stranger. I’ve never been one to sleep around anyway.

“Okay,” I say, too enthused. “As long as we both agree that this isn’t music,”

“Oh no, this just barely passes as noise!” Peeta agrees readily. 

He guides me to the packed dance floor, and we start moving to the booming, deafening tunes playing overhead. 

I’m not sure if one could call this dancing. Everywhere I look people are writhing against each other, like a pack of zombies without grace or rhyme. 

I’m not sure Peeta will get an accurate assessment of his dancing skills, compared to what I’m seeing, he’ll probably look like a professional; plus, it’s too dark and busy in here to really appreciate anything, really, but after a few minutes of just shifting in place, robotically, I snatch two bottle beers from a waitress walking by, offering one to my partner, hoping that’s enough to get us loosen up. The waitress stares at me until I rummage on my crossbody mini purse and toss a crumple ten on her tray. 

The liquid boost works. Before I know it, I’m grinding my hips against his. Peeta’s just the right height for his thigh to fit between my legs and brush against my front. I get tired of undulating my arms in the air, so I drop them around his shoulders, and feel just how firm and broad he is under my touch. 

Our chests are tightly pressed together, and I’m at the right angle to just stare at his plush-looking lips. I turn around before I do something brash, like kiss him in the mouth. Peeta doesn’t question it, he just places his hands on my hips, and starts moving to the music’s beat. 

I bring the beer to my lips, but the bottle’s empty… oops! It doesn’t matter, I’m having the time of my life! 

Peeta’s swaying guides me. I basically drape my back over his front, and bump my ass into his groin. I feel the hint of a bulge there, and press my rear into it  again, just to confirm if I felt what I hope I felt. 

Peeta’s fingers tighten on my hip, emboldening me to keep going until I’m practically twerking into him, and his slight bulge morphs into a full blown hard-on. 

I twist in his arms to face him, my lust idled brain barely thinking rationally, “Are your 33 minutes done yet?” I yell into his ear, so he can hear me over the noise. 

He doesn’t even look at his watch, “To hell with time! I‘ll stay here all night, if you want me to,” He answers loudly. 

“Come on, then!” I push off his chest, and snatch up his hand before he can reply. 

Leaving the dance floor is surprisingly easily, considering the crowd bouncing in place together. 

I make no conscious plan on where we’re going; I’m arguably familiar with the layout of this place from my many visits since Prim turned 21; I’m only mildly surprised when we navigate across the club, all the way to the restrooms. It’s like my clit is making all the decisions tonight… good for it! 

There’s a line of disgruntled women waiting to get inside the Ladies Room, but the Men’s Room is available, and Peeta lets me guide him into it, like one of those pull toys children have. 

“It stinks in here,” I comment blandly, but make a beeline for the last stall with a door. 

There’s one guy at the urinal, but he doesn’t even look up from his pants, so I just shrug it off and yank Peeta into the stall with me. 

The space is tight, but once inside the stall, I push Peeta into the door, and attack his mouth. 

He makes a startled noise at the back of his throat, but his hands and arms immediately press me into his body more fully. My own hands trek down to his belt, where I fiddle with the buckle until it’s undone, and I can access his pants’ button and fly. 

He hisses when my fingers graze his warm erection, and bucks into my knuckles. I’m in the process of sticking my hand inside his boxers, when Peeta growls, sucking my lower lip into his mouth, and letting it go with a wet pop.

“Switch places,” he pants against my mouth, and hoists me up, until my back hits the door and his hands grab my hips possessively, jutting my pelvis forward, “I’m hungry, would you mind if I eat you out?” 

“Okay,” I gasp.

Thank you for forcing me to wear your tiny, clubbing dress, Prim! 

“You’ll allow it?” He asks, incredulous, rubbing circles on my hips with his thumbs. 

“Yes… I’ll allow it!”

His smile is sexy, his stare is hypnotic. Damned my drunken ass! I can’t believe I’m willing to do this in a smelly bathroom stall!

Peeta sits on the toilet and licks his lips while staring up at me. His hands disappear under the stretchy material of my skirt, bumping my purse out of his way. He skims his fingers under the elastic of my panties, and I bite my lip, nodding eagerly.

Slowly, Peeta slides my underwear down my legs, the tips of his fingers follow, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced!

Once he brings my panties to my knees, his hands rush back up my thighs, pushing the flimsy skirt around my waist. My underwear drops to my ankles on their own. 

Peeta’s level eye with my crotch, and I squirm restlessly. “Beautiful… absolutely soaked,” he whispers in a daze, he inhales pulling me closer, “You smell divine!” He descends, nose first, into the thatch of dark curls between my thighs, making me moan. He ruts his face against me, and suddenly drops to his knees, grabbing my calf to pull my leg up. 

But the movement gets prevented by my stupid underwear, tangled in my ankles. Without missing a beat, I toe my panties off, so Peeta can maneuver my body however he wants. 

He drapes my leg over his shoulder, opening me up to his ravenous mouth. He grunts, burying his face into my core, and finally, FINALLY, his tongue swipes between my folds.

“Fuck!” I squeak. 

My hands fly to tangle into his soft, perfectly coiffed hair. I nearly smother him, holding his face to my pussy, but he’s doing wicked things to me with his tongue: lapping, sucking, and nipping at my labia; drawing number eight figures around my clit with the tip of his tongue, to then sinking it deep inside my core. I can’t stop bucking into his mouth over and over.

When was the last time I was given head? Fuck if I know! Darius probably, he was decent, but didn’t do it often. And Thom was so boring at it, I actually preferred he didn’t do it. But this guy is amazing! A real expert in the matter! 

“I’m so close! Please… I’m so close,” I wail like a cat in heat, writhing against the door. 

Peeta looks up, and despite the horrendous lighting in the room, I realize he’s got the deepest blue eyes I’ve ever seen… too bad I can’t hold his gaze too long, because he starts rubbing my clit with his thumb, while fucking my hole with his tongue, and is all I can do not shout and scalp him in my delirium.

He doesn’t stop drinking my juices while I convulse above him. On the contrary, he retrieves his thumb, but keeps his mouth busy, lapping away all the slick I give him.

It’s too much.

I tug on his hair to pull him off of my sensitive privates. 

Peeta takes one last lick with the flat of his tongue and looks up at me, smiling wolfishly, “Was that good?” His beard’s dripping with me, he wipes some of it off on his sleeve. 

I snort, unsexy and definitely rude. “You made me cum so hard I saw stars… yeah, it was good. Better than good, really!” I smile down at him, and try to pull him off from the floor. 

All the gel holding his curls in place is gone now, rubbed off on my palms. His hair is sticking up on the top and towards the back of his head. I reach up to try and smooth it back, “I’m sorry, I seem to have made a mess of your hair,” I giggle. It’s adorable, but I feel bad that I ruined it. 

“You can mess my hair any time you want, Katniss.” He says, almost shyly, he places his hands on my waist, over the bunched up dress. 

It’s a big turn on to me, how his words are so flirty, but he delivers them so sweetly and awed. Is unexpected and endearing… which is odd, because I don’t usually find people endearing at all!

We both chuckle. 

He licks his lips, and I feel heat pool in my lower belly again. 

“Come’ere!” I wrap my hand around his nape, and pull his lips to mine. 

He responds immediately, licking the seam of my mouth. I suck on his tongue when he slides it against mine. 

He moans. 

“Fuck me, Peeta,” I rasp into the kiss, palming his dick through his jeans. 

He groans, “Are you sure?” He barely holds back another groan when I squeeze his clothed erection.

“Cock. In me. Now!” I command through gritted teeth, trying to pull his cock out of his pants with one hand, while taking his hand, and splaying it on my boob. 

“Okay… shit… this is… surreal! This has never happened to me before!” He kneads my tit, gently.

I’m not sure I was supposed to hear that, so I pretend I didn’t and turn, facing the door to wiggle my ass, in an attempt to convince him. 

Peeta makes a noise in his throat, quickly followed by the sound of shifting clothes, and a metallic thump from his belt buckle hitting the toilet. 

I whine when Peeta’s warm, heavy cock caressed my bare ass cheek. “Please don’t tease me,” I beg.

“Fuck, Katniss… do you really want this?”

“Yes, Peeta… put your cock inside my cunt, and fuck me all the way to next week! Now!” 

His warm body cocoons mine, “Anything you want, sweetheart,” he whispers into my ear, and I feel the blunt head of his cock parting my folds, coating himself with my natural lubricants.

He finds my entrance, pushing inside just the tip. He gasps, “Fuck!” One big hand wraps around my hip to keep me steady, bracing his other arm on the door, above my head. 

“Peeta… Please!” I wiggle my ass, making him sink another inch deep. 

“Hold still,” He hisses, “I’m trying to hold back… not ramming in too roughly… embarrassing myself, cumming too fast,” His hot breath warms my nape. “You feel like heaven!” He growls, tightening his hold on me. 

I’m torn, wishing he’d drill into me without mercy already, while another part of me is grateful he’s trying to stay under control… I don’t know which I want more… 

When was the last time I had sex? 

As if reading my thoughts, Peeta shares haltingly, “It’s been such a long time for me. I want it to last, but I’m

Not sure if I can,” 

I don’t have time to second guess myself, because Peeta’s moving, and he’s massive! 

“Don’t hold back!” I bleat, “I want it rough… I want it fast!” I gasp, clenching down on him. I paw at the door for purchase, trying not to face-plant on the cold, hard surface, while Peeta’s fat prick stretches me to the brink of pain! I can’t stay put for him any longer; I buck into him.

“I said to hold still!” He slaps my ass, hard. It stings, but it’s a welcomed feeling. 

I moan and melt, finally relaxing enough for him to penetrate me all the way to the hilt. He stays there a moment, breathing harshly into my neck, squeezing my hip on and off. 

“You’re so tight. So warm. So wet, Katniss.” He nuzzles my ear, “I’m gonna move now, I apologize beforehand in case this ends too soon for you…” He drags himself slowly out of me, just to plunge right back in with a swift, hard thrust. 

I squeak; he grunts.. 

Peeta holds me by the waist,  “You’re so pretty and sexy, Katniss. I can’t decide if you’re real, or the most vivid wet dream I’ve ever had…” he’s fucking me like a jackrabbit in rut.

I’m speechless, vaguely wondering if I didn’t dream him instead?

His cock head hits a spot deep inside me I’ve never reached before. I start babbling nonsense— mostly praising his cock and his strength— I don’t really know what I’m saying, but he seems to be enjoying it thoroughly by the increase in his speed and the volume of his grunts. 

I’m joisted up and down his shaft like a rag doll; I wish I’d thought of hanging my stupid little purse somewhere before we started, because now it’s bumping on my thighs, distracting me from the great ducking I’m getting; it’s no matter… I can feel my orgasm building in my belly.

“I’m gonna cum, sweetheart… I want you to cum too,” He nibbles on my earlobe. 

“Yes, Peeta! Please make me cum, I’m so close!”

One of his hands slides around my waist to play with my clit, while his other tweaks my nipples over my dress and bra. That, added to the sensation of my g-spot being prodded repeatedly, sends me spinning over the edge.

I must’ve screamed or something, because he clamps his hand over my mouth, and then he’s grunting, digging his forehead between my shoulder blades, and pulling me back against his unyielding body. 

“Fuck…” he gasps and shivers behind me. I feel his dick pulsing, his rhythm faltering, and then he goes still. 

Peeta sags a little, wedging his shoulder into the door to keep from falling. I’m surprised he still has the strength to hold me up too; I have to be dead weight at this point, since my legs feel like overcooked noodles and my arms gave out a minute ago.

We both try to catch our breaths, too spent and weak for much more, at least for a few minutes.

Peeta stirs. “Are you okay?” He breathes out, ruffling the loose wisps of my hair with his breath. 

I chuckle, leaning my sweaty temple on the cool door. “I can’t feel my toes… which is excellent!”

“Good,” he sighs. 

Three heart beats later, he straightens up and pulls out of me. An indecent amount of spend flows down my legs as soon as his cock dislodges from my pussy, but Peeta shoves something soft between my thighs quickly, before I have time to freak out about the mess.

I look down mildly curious, staring at an embroidery of a tiny loaf of bread. Vaguely, I wonder if that’s his uniform? He said he was a baker, right? At least he’s named after bread or something. I giggle. “Is this your shirt?” I ask, widening my stance to gracelessly wipe myself clean. 

“Yeah,” 

“Thank you,” I say, dazedly, turning sideways to smile at him gratefully. 

He’s wearing a simple, white, cotton t-shirt when I return the polo to him, now spoiled with cum and slick. I’m caught off guard by how broad shoulder he is, and by how nice he smells… cinnamon and sweat. Weird combination, but pleasant. I wonder if he baked any bread today? 

“Um… would you… would you like to put these back on?” He asks awkwardly, leaning down to pick up my discarded panties from besides the foot of the toilet bowl.

I wrinkle my nose, “Not really,” I mumble. “Who knows when was the last time that floor got cleaned. Gross.” 

Peeta smiles and shakes his head, “Here,” he grabs his polo, covered in our juices, and wraps my underwear in it. “Now it’s hidden.”

My body is finally catching up with the advanced hour, the beers and the two amazing orgasms. I’m starting to feel sore everywhere, and my eyelids are getting heavy. “Wow… think I’m officially all partied out,” I chuckle weakly.

“Ditto,” Peeta agrees, his smile is shy. “So… there’s this little dinner about two blocks from here,” he starts, eyes downcast; the space seems to shrink around us, now that the frenzy of our physical activities is done with. “Would you like to grab a pancake or som—“

My phone rings, startling us both into silence. I frown, but scramble to find it in my purse, to check who could be calling me… apparently at 2 a.m.!

My frown deepens. Prim’s smiling face flashes on the screen. She was supposed to be getting some herself! “It’s my sister,” I whisper, tamping down my rising panic. I don’t ask if it’s okay to answer, I just do it. “Prim?” 

“Where the hell are you?!” I have to pull the phone off, or risk eardrum rupture by my sister’s screeching. “I’ve been texting and calling you! I’ve been worried sick!”

I scowl at the wall, confused and little annoyed, “Prim… Prim, are you okay? Are you hurt? Do you need me to come get you somewhere?” I try to ask.

“What?! No. I’m home! But you aren’t, and I’ve been scared shitless trying to find you!”

I give Peeta an apologetic grimace, and blindly feel around for the lock to get out of the stall. “Um… why are you home so early? Last time I heard from you, you were getting a ride,” I’m trying to sound unaffected; It’s all I can think to say in my mortification.

“Never mind that! Why aren’t you home already? I thought you had to work in the morning and then go to sch—” 

While Prim rages at me, I place a hand on the phone and turn to Peeta, still in the stall, awkwardly facing the wall, I assume to grant me some privacy. I’m sure he can hear my sister’s frantic chastisement from where he’s standing. “I’m sorry… you’d think I was a teenager instead of a grown ass adult,” I roll my eyes.

Peeta waves me off good naturedly. “It’s okay. I’m sorry for keeping you so late,”

I’m about to say something else, but Prim yells loudly, something about calling the police and checking the hospitals for me, which truly prompts a reaction from me, “Calm down! I’m still at the club, exactly where you left me!” I cover the phone with my palm again, and turn to him. “I’m… I’m gonna go? Before she threatens to send the marines in,” I try to joke, but our situation takes all the levity out of it, and my attempt dies off, lamely. 

Peeta nods, smiling softly; somehow I can tell it’s not genuine. 

“Little sisters, right?” I offer halfheartedly, twisting my lips. 

“Can I… walk you out at least?” He asks quietly; Prim hasn’t stopped nagging this whole time. 

“I… it’s not necessary, but thank you…” 

Peeta nods again, looking disappointed. 

I don’t get to tell him a proper goodbye, because two dude-bros come in the bathroom, letting the noise from the club filter in; one of the idiots elbows the other, and both start making some lewd comments about me, but Peeta steps in, eyes wild with anger, and tells the guys to knock it off. Prim hears the whole thing of course, and goes nuts herself asking what’s going on?

Peeta looks at me, and motions his head towards the door. 

Message received, I step outside the bathroom and book it out of the club, “I’ll be home in a bit. I’m gonna call and Uber,”

“Call me as soon as you’re in it!” Prim demands.

“Fine! Now stop nagging me, will you?!”

I don’t realize I never looked back at Peeta to wave my goodbyes until I’m in the car, heading home. Regret truly is a bitch. I can’t help feeling like I just lost something important, but I have no idea what it is. 

>>—————> * <————<<

It’s been a very long Monday. I’m mainly running on caffeine at the moment, and can’t wait to get home and pass out in my fluffy bed, to see if I can catch up on last nights lost hours of sleep. 

I enter my last class of the day and find a seat in the middle of the third row. I pull my laptop, a writing pad and my mechanical pencil out of my bag, and watch as my classmates start filtering in one by one, greeting each other and finding their places, lazily. 

I’m the oldest student in this class, which is not surprising. I’ve only just come back from my extended— 5 year— sabbatical; and did it only after I was completely sure I could handle my workload and the financial strain of both me and Prim going to college at the same time, without giving myself an early grave. 

It’s been hard, but I’m glad I came back to finish my schooling, I only need a handful of credits to graduate, which is great!

I check my watch. We still have a few minutes to kill before class starts. The professor— Dr. Mellark, according to the copy of my schedule— is not here yet, so I pull up the banking app on my phone to give it another glance. The balance is still the same as the last two times I’ve seen it, but it doesn’t hurt to be extra careful when one is on a tight budget. I scheduled payments for the power, gas and rent to go out in the next few days, and I want to make sure there’s enough money in the bank to cover them. We’re looking fine for the month, financially speaking. 

The door to the classroom swishes open, and I start signing off my app.

“Good afternoon ladies and germs; I’m doctor Mellark, and provided you’re in this room for an English class, I’ll like to welcome you to the amazing world of Classic Literature!” Says a deep, male voice I find oddly familiar. “By the way, don’t any of you dare to disagree with me on the awesomeness of classic lit… I’m a doctor, I know what I’m talking about… unless you ask me about medicine, then please be free to disregard everything I say, because I’m not ‘that’ kind of doctor!” 

A murmure of little chuckles fills the room; even I smile, silencing my phone and putting it away, before looking up at the professor.

I choke on a strangled gasp when I finally set eyes on the man I assume is the teacher, dumping a worn, leather, messenger bag on the desk near the podium. He’s the last person I would’ve expected to have as a professor.  

Oblivious to my predicament, Doctor Mellark— or as I know him: Peeta!— keeps introducing himself. 

“I’ve been teaching this course for 14th years, but I’m always pleasantly surprised to hear the different points of views my students bring to our discussions on the classics we study, which in a nutshell, is the beauty of this class.” He pulls a ream of paper out of his bag, and gives it to a student in the front, “Please take a syllabus, and pass the rest to the next person, and so on… thank you!” 

My face is burning. I think I’m gonna faint. 

“But enough about me,” his voice booms, making my whole body shiver. “I don’t normally do roll calls or care about attendance, as long as you’re not missing assignments, and are here during discussions, so this is the first and last time I’ll be reading this list,” he rises a piece of paper above his head, I surmise has the students names on it, and he instructs, before reading, “I’ll call your names, and you’ll introduce yourself, briefly, that way we can all get acquainted with each other, yes?” 

Ugh! 

He can scratch my name off that list right now! We’re more than acquainted with each other.

Bile rises to my throat. An intrusive, bitter thought pesters me: how many of his students has he gotten ‘that’ familiar with? 

But the thought dies off quickly. An even worse, more worrisome thought springs front and center in my mind: Did we use protection?!

Panic rises in my chest, a nervous queasiness settles in my belly; a distant memory of warm goo sliding down my legs comes to mind… Oh shit! 

Oh shit, oh shit! We didn’t use a freaking condom? Who does that?! 

Oh shit! 

Would a Plan B still be effective right now? It’s been less than 24 hours… 

Peeta’s reading names. People stand from their seats and talk about themselves. I haven’t heard one word they’ve said, but I’ve been watching how some of the female students bat their eyelashes and speak all breathily, smiling coyly at him… Peeta seems oblivious to the flirting, but I still feel a cocktail of unpleasant feelings in the pit of my stomach. 

I realize, I’m jealous!

My ass is frozen in my sit, I’m not even breathing. I don’t think Peeta’s seen me yet, but… what will he do or say once my name comes up? I send a quick prayer to heaven, he won’t recognize me since I look nothing like I did last night at the club, with my hair down and my face all made-up. Right now and plain ol’ me… the rub is gonna be my name. Darn my dad and his awful naming whims! 

Soon enough, he reads a name that makes him stutter, “Kat…Katniss? Everdeen?” He does a double take, “Katniss Everdeen…” his eyes are the size of saucers when he scans the lecture hall, swiftly. When he finds me, he looks back down at his paper, and says the name out loud again, unsure, “Katniss Everdeen?” Like he doesn’t believe what he’s reading. 

I stand up woodenly, my voice cracks a little, “I’m—I’m Katniss Everdeen… hi!” 

I’m about to drop back into my chair, but Peeta kinda mumbles, “You know, Arrowhead, or Katniss is a water plant? The root is edible… like a swamp potato?”

There are quiet little giggles all over the place. 

Peeta clears his throat, his eyes flit away; his face’s blank of emotion, but his cheeks seem pinker than a second earlier, “I just read that online, believe it or not. Interesting facts about local flora, people. Reading is knowledge, but so is learning from one another… what can you tell us about yourself, Miss Everdeen, besides that you have a very unique first name?”

“I…” I harrumph, avoiding eye contact with Peeta at all costs, “I’m a part time student. Majoring in Botany. I took this class to fulfill my last English credits requirement for graduation. I do love books and classic literature, in particular.” 

“Thank you… Miss Everdeen,” he rasps. 

I sit down, clumsily, hoping this horrible, horrible moment is just a nightmare and that I’ll wake up any second now, drooling on my desk, with indentations of my notepad on my cheek, because anything would be less embarrassing than what I’m going through at this point.

Mercifully, Peeta calls a different name, and then another, and then another. I don’t look up from my notepad once.

Peeta for his part, sounds stiff and monotonous— or so I’d like to think— no more jokes or clever sayings. Maybe he’s not as affected as I am about this ordeal, and I’m just making it a bigger deal than it really is? Maybe he does have experience sleeping with students— I mean, it’s not unheard off, right?— Not that either of us had any idea we were engaging in a teacher-student affair last night… 

Although, calling it an affair is generous; it was a measly one night stand. A chance encounter. Two people letting off steam before a busy week ahead. 

I’m getting increasingly angry with all this thinking… and the class seems to drag on. It feels like an eternity, and my mind keeps churning up all kinds of questions: Why would he not say he was a teacher at this particular college? Did he lie about being a baker? Is his name even Peeta? 

I scoffed at the thought.

To my horror, I hear him ask, “Anything to say, Miss Everdeen?” 

Looking up at him requires a great deal of bravery and self admonishment, but I do my best and face him— he’s wearing glasses now, which makes my belly tightened for inexplicable reasons— “No, Doctor Mellark, nothing of consequence anyway,” I retort as venemosly as possible, without alerting anyone else there’s something weird going on between me and the professor. 

Peeta grimaces slightly. Then looks away, “Very well, as I was saying, we will start with the basics: The Iliad and Moby Dick, since those are High school level works, I expect your reports to be sufficiently well researched, and your personal ideas on the text somewhat fleshed out. It doesn’t have to be in-depth. I’m just looking to determine everyone’s style and needs for the semester ahead…” he continues his spiel, and I feel free to go back to my stewing and my musings. 

Before I know it, Peeta’s dismissing the class, wishing everyone a good rest of their evening. 

I jump into action, packing my stuff with my head bowed, but then I hear him again.

“Miss Everdeen, a private word, please?” It’s much too quiet to have been said from his podium. I still startled when I look up and find him standing right against the first row of desks, directly in front of me. 

His face is not quite stern, but he’s definitely less smiley than when we met. 

I force down a gasp, because under the better lighting of the lecture hall, and close up, I can see a plethora of details I missed at the club; like the arresting blue of his eyes, the slight reddish of his neatly trimmed beard, peppered with silver whiskers all over, while his perfectly combed hair is almost all silver on the temples, and ashy blonde on the top. His shoulders are even broader than I remember. 

He’s overall stockier than I originally thought, and just a smidge shorter, which is fine, he’s still the most handsome man I’ve ever met, and I wouldn’t mind climbing him like a tree—

I shake my head off the intrusive, lecheros thoughts. I’m literally lusting after my teacher, for goodness sakes! This is beyond a silly schoolgirl crush!

Peeta arches one dark blonde eyebrow at me, expectantly. 

I nod curtly, because my tongue is stuck to the roof of my mouth, and gesture for him to lead the way.

I shove my laptop into my bag, and hastily shoulder the straps, hugging my writing pad to my chest, following my professor like a chastened little girl. 

My stupid eyes find his ass, and I blink twice, at the exquisite sight in front of me. I groan internally. 

He grabs his own bag, takes off his spectacles and slides them into his shirt pocket. 

How old is this man?! He said he’s been teaching this class for 14 years, when do professors start their teaching careers? How did I never see him before now roaming campus? Is his age the reason he ate pussy like a master? 

I shake my head, cursing my horny brain. 

Peeta opens a door I have no idea how we came across, and then stands aside, gesturing for me to go in first. 

I duck my head and step into a warmly decorated office, with a small desk and two chairs in the middle of the room. Bookshelves full of tomes line the office. A handful of pictures and framed diplomas hang from the only available wall space in the room, but I don’t get to study them before he catches my undivided attention. 

“Let me start by apologizing,” Peeta stars, closing the door behind himself, “I assure you, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any stress, or embarrassment out there.” He pauses, “Would you like to sit?” He offers, wincing. He doesn’t wait and steps around me, to pace on the other side of his desk, “I… um, never been in this position before,” he scowls, “I’m not sure what assurances I can offer at the moment, except, that I will start the process to recuse myself from this class immediately, to not interfere with your academic—“

“Recuse yourself?” I cut him off, “what do you mean?” 

Peeta squirms a little, and sits down heavily on his chair. My bag slides off my shoulder, and I just dump it in the empty chair I was offered a moment ago. 

“Well, Miss Everdeen, it’s the right thing to do, given our circumstances. We’ve breached the appropriate boundaries of our pupil and teacher positions, and staying in the same class together will put you at a disadvantage… is a power imbalance situation, that calls for action.”

“Can you stop calling me ‘Miss Everdeen’? It’s weird…”

“I’m just trying to maintain an acceptable level of decorum between us,” he says sheepishly. 

“That ship has already sailed,” I say tiredly.

“Perhaps, but it’s my responsibility to still try,” he rubs his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll call my department and see what is next. Stepping down myself is the only fair solution I see so far… it would be terribly unfair to ask you to switch classes. Simply disrespectful, but we both can agree this uncomfortable situation needs to be nipped in the bud, for both our sakes, Miss Everdeen.”

“This is bullshit!” I snap, “What happened in that club, isn’t that terrible of a problem! What we really need to do is stop acting so stiffly and guilty. By the way, you sound like a walking thesaurus!” I accuse, looking him in the eyes for the first time since he called my name at the lecture hall. “Stop it!” 

Peeta inhales deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Miss Everdeen, our actions last night may have been honest, and even innocent in nature, but they still carry consequences… unexpected ones, especially in light of the facts. And the facts are, that it would be unethical for me to remain in a position of authority over you. In any case… if you feel the need to report me to the school administration, for… harassment or inappropriate behavior or anything else, I won’t dispute any claims. I promise to distance myself from you and give you space so you can continue with your education without interference, in a safe environment.”

I grunt, “I’m not going to report you, because you didn’t do anything wrong. Sure, I thought you were a baker… I mean your story about your name, and that little loaf of bread embroidered into your shirt, I thought it was your uniform,” I shrug one shoulder. 

“Sorry about that… I never meant to mislead you,” he says bashful. 

I ignore him, “Either way, I was the one pulling you into that bathroom. I threw myself at you. I begged you to do things to me, and you just granted me my wishes…” like a sexy gentleman, “The sex is on me. I’m 26 years old, I’m not some bumbling teenager who hasn’t learned to take responsibility for her actions, so, please… stop trying to shield me, or protect me, or whatever it is you’re doing,” my arms flap around in frustration. I finally push my bag off the chair, and sink into it. “Look, Peeta—“

“Professor…” he corrects, frowning a little.

I roll my eyes, if he knew he’s just making it sound kinkier than it already is, he wouldn’t be so adamant about the freaking titles. 

“Fine… Doctor Mellark,” I enunciate, pettily. “I specifically chose your class as my last English elective for two reasons. One: it’s exactly the amount of credits I need to graduate at the end of the semester. And two: it fits my schedule to a T, which is important, since I do have a full time job when I’m not a college student. So, I’m sure we can both be adults about this unfortunate situation, and simply forge on. There’s no need for you to recuse from teaching this class, and I have absolutely no intention of switching. We both can wear our big people britches, and pretend last night was a… what did you call it?” I wave my hands, as if the answer will materialize from thin air, “A vivid wet dream? And leave it at that!”

Peeta glares at me, looking aggravated for the first time since I met him. “It’ll be unethical to continue like everything is normal, Miss Everdeen.” Peeta argues, stubbornly. 

“Nobody has to know about last night,” I say, exasperated, then a horrifying thought flashes in my mind, “Unless you bragged about it already!”

“No!” He straightens in his chair, looking offended, “I would never do something so vile,” He looks indignant, “plus, the fact still remains that something did happen last night, and I know about it! I can’t, in good faith, be your teacher.”

“Are you planning on showing me favoritism because you know what my pussy tastes like, Peeta?” I deadpan, “Or are you gonna blackmail me into doing it again?” 

“Stop calling me Peeta!” He growls through his teeth, his very thick fingers clenching into fists on his armrests. 

I blink at his reaction owlishly, realizing I’m truly pushing it this time. 

“I’ve always prided myself on keeping my nose clean. Being a decent man and tutor. Never in 17 years of teaching have I slept with a co-ed, let alone a student in my own class.” He breathes deeply, then pins me to my chair, with those arresting blue eyes of his, burning with controlled anger, “I would never extort you or anyone for sexual favors, Katniss. While I don’t really want to lose my tenure or face other disciplinary actions from the school authorities, the one thing I truly don’t want to damage are my personal standards, and my self image.

“Katniss, I’m already biased when it comes to you. Being your professor won’t be exactly fair to anyone. I’m not saying I would give you A’s willy-nilly, nor that I would grade your papers any differently than I’d do your peers or that I’d be less critical of your work,” 

“That’s reassuring,” I roll my eyes. “You’re telling me that if I bring you a shit essay, you might not be persuaded to let me redo it?” 

He sighs, “I don’t know…” he scratches the back of his neck, “I’ll most likely hover over your desk a disproportionate amount of time compared to your classmates. There’s also a chance I’ll call on your name more often than the rest of them?”

“I still don’t hear one unscrupulous, wrong reason, why you can’t do your job, and teach this class.”

We sit there, staring at each other, at an impasse. 

“Why are you so set on keeping me in that room, Miss Everdeen?” He asks, softly. 

Finally, I relent, relaxing my tense shoulders, and exhaling tiredly. I raise my hands in defeat. “I don’t know, Peeta. Because I want to protect you, the same way you’re trying to protect me. But… recuse yourself if you have to. I still believe you’re a better man than your urges.” 

Peeta relaxes in his chair too, “Thank you, Katniss.You didn’t have to say that, specially because you don’t know me. It still means a lot.”

I chew the inside of my lip, calculating stuff in my head. “You’re right, I don’t know you, but I consider myself an okay judge of character.” He opened this door, it’s time for me to walk through it, “Can I ask you some stuff?” I ask innocently.

Peeta arches his eyebrows. “Shoot,” he says. 

“How old are you?” 

“45. I’m sorry. I knew you were young last night… I just didn’t quite grasp just how young,” his eyes shift downwards, sheepish and uncomfortable. 

“I’m an adult. I’ve been the head of my family for years. At this point, age is irrelevant for me.” I state, dismissively.

“What about your family?” He asks, tilting his head sideways.

It takes me a minute to answer. I cross my arms over my stomach, and exhale, “It’s been only Primrose and I for five years now. My mother had cancer. My father passed when I was eleven.” I rock in my chair, slightly, “That’s why my sister was being such a clingy bitch last night. She can’t bear to lose anyone else. Neither can I for that matter.”

Peeta leans forward on his desk. “I’m so sorry to hear that, Katniss.”

I sit back, feeling like a huge weight just got lifted off my shoulders. “It’s okay, really. I’m back in school, about to finish my last semester, Prim is doing great in university, the only debt we have right now is Prim’s car and my Target card… we are actually okay,” I smile, meekly at him. 

“That’s… that’s good, Katniss. Admirable, really.”

“Peeta?” I start cautiously, “Would you really remove yourself from the class because of me?” 

He looks me right in the eye, sincerity emanating fro his eyes. “Absolutely. Without hesitation. As soon as you leave, I’ll email my Head of Department, explaining my situation. Don’t worry, I won’t mention any names or details—“

I shake my head, vehemently. 

Peeta squints, studying me cautiously, measuring me. 

“Please… stay with me…” 

Something in my tone catches his attention, and he eyes me curiously. “I’ve already told you why I can’t,” he says, almost soothingly. 

I stand up. Go around my chair, and drop back down into it. I start shaking my leg nervously. “I had this feeling in my gut since last night. Like I lost something precious, I just couldn’t put a finger on it… I still can’t, to be honest. All I know, in my loins, is that I can’t let you step down from your position, and I sure as hell won’t walk away on you without figuring out what this…” I wiggle my fingers, pointing to the mouth of my stomach, “feeling is about.”

He stares at me. 

I stand up again, and this time I just pace, to the wall with the pictures, and stare at a bunch of faces, too similar to Peeta’s not to be related to him somehow. 

“I know I’m not making sense, but I just needed to say that.”

He watches me for a long beat, weighing his options no doubt, before answering, “I can’t be your teacher, Katniss…” he sighs, and rubs his forehead, “because I’m afraid seeing you every week, without being able to touch you will be absolute torture.”

“Really?” I bite my lip, giving him an open once over, not feeling one iota self conscious about. “How come?” 

Peeta huffs, avoiding my eyes. “I’d be wondering what your breasts look like the whole time.” He confesses, flatly. “I didn’t get a chance to see them last night, and it kept me awake an indecent amount of time.” He twists his lips, “I’m gonna be pinning the whole semester, whether you’re in the classroom or not, craving the taste of your juices in my tongue, and worse of all, I’ll probably embarrass myself, giving me involuntary hard on’s just fantasizing about you.”

I practically prowl towards him. “You poor thing,” I coo, pouting. “Would you go home to masturbate on the soiled pair of panties I left behind on that dirty, bathroom floor?” I ask… more like, purr, really. 

Peeta chuffs out an incredulous laugh, covering his face with both hands. He grunts, “Aw, fuck! That sounds so… it’s probably exactly what could happen. I’d try to stay professional in the classroom, but in the privacy of my home…” he chuckles weakly, shaking his head.

“What kind of fantasies are we entertaining here?” I ask, invested, and sit on the corner of his desk. 

Peeta thins out his mouth, “Katniss… that’s a slippery slope you’re trying to climb,” he warns.

“Humor me?” I cajole. 

He takes a stuttering breath. “I’ll bring you into this office, same way I did today, except I’ll rip your clothes off, throw you on the desk and take you hard and fast. From behind.” 

I can’t stop a small sound at the back of my throat, nor the need to rub my thighs together. 

I clear my throat, “I expect you’d want to fuck me on every surface in this office?”

Peeta pulls on the collar of his shirt, his face turning crimson, “And probably the lecture hall as well,” he adds conversationally. 

I nod, scooting closer to where he sits. “I’m curious too you know. I didn’t get to see ‘any’ part of you naked. But my muscles still are deliciously sore from last night. A girl has to wonder… just how big a dick has to be to cause so much wreckage?” 

It doesn’t take much effort at all to work him up. Peeta’s pants are tented in what looks like the most uncomfortable erection ever; he shifts in his chair to try and hide the effect my words have on him, yet, his hands remain folded on his lap, white knuckled with the effort of keeping himself in check. He’s really committed not to touch me while I’m still his student, but he rasps a question, full of concern. 

“Did I hurt you?” His eyes search me, earnestly. “I’m sorry I was too rough, really,”

My heart gives a little somersault. “No, Peeta. You were pure perfection. I loved how you handled me.”

His lips twitch, and I’m amazed at how expressive his face is, even partially hidden under his near facial hair. “You said you were hungry last night before you got on your knees…” I murmur, “I think, next time I’ll return the favor,”

“Next time?”

I slide closer to him, but we both keep our hands to ourselves.

I lick my lips, resisting the urge to drop on my knees between his legs and gobble up his cock. I didn’t lie about wanting to see him in all his naked glory, but I can show the same level of restraint he does; I respect him for trying to keep a moral and ethical compass.

I smirk at him, slyly. “Are you sure you wanna abandon your post as my professor, now that my education is on the balance? We can wait a handful of months, Doctor Mellark… I promise not to tease you,” With that, I mean, I promise not to aggravate what could potentially be the worst case of blue balls in the history of slow burns.

Peeta hisses a mirthless chuckle, “You’re too much of a temptation, even if you don’t actively try teasing me, Katniss,”

I start playing with the end of my braided, dark hair. “You know what I’m most really looking forward to, from when I’m no longer your student?” I pose, shyly, “Going to that dinner you mentioned last night.” I shrug one shoulder. “I’ll let you buy me a stack of pancakes to celebrate my graduation. I’ll probably introduce you to my sister, Primrose… and we’d go from there… if you wanted to…”

Peeta smiles, disarmingly. “I’d love that too, Miss Everdeen.” He says quietly.

I let go of my braid, and hug myself, “Stay in the class?” I practically beg one last time. “We can do it, I know we can. We can have a platonic, completely innocent teacher-student relationship until I’m done with college,”

Peeta shakes his head. “We’ll see after I talk to my head of department. Who knows, maybe all the schedules are already locked in place, and I have no other choice but to stay put. There’s no guarantee a replacement is available for me.”

“We’ll make it work!” I say enthusiastically. 

“Maybe…” he sighs, not entirely convinced. 

I pull my phone out of my pocket to check the time. Time is running out, I gotta get to the pharmacy before my window of opportunity closes. 

“Hey, Peeta… um, invasive, weird question?” 

I wait for him to nod.

“Have you by any chance, have gotten a vasectomy at any point?” 

“Mmm no, never had. Why?”

Aw shit! 

I bite the inside of my cheek. “Hopefully no reason.” I say quickly, too nonchalant for my own good, and he catches on it, I can see the gears turning in his brain, “Okay,” I make a big show of yawning and stretching my arms, “I have to run some errands before going home and crashing for the night.”

Peeta cringes, “Are you… okay? Really, okay? You said you were sore?” His eyes rove over my face full of concern. 

“I’m fine,” I smile, “nothing a long soaking in Epsom salts can’t cure.”

“Okay,” he says, unsure. “I don’t want to overstep any worse than I already have, but… I’ve been anxious, wondering if you were alright, if you got home fine to your sister since you left the club. Which, obviously you did… but, I wanted to kick myself for not asking your number, just to be able to check on you… and this is frown upon, a d completely unethical, but—“

“I’ll email you,” I say quickly. “Nothing explicit. But I’ll let you know I’m home and okay.” I’ve spoken to people in code before, this shouldn’t be a problem, and really, sending my professor an email with a time stamp and some innocuous question about the syllabus doesn’t have to be nefarious at all. 

“Alright… Just let me know if there’s anything wrong, okay? I swear this won’t become a routine thing or anything, just this time, to give me peace of mind, and because it is late… and well, yesterday…”

“It’s fine, professor. I don’t mind. And… everything will work out,” I say shouldering my bag and pocketing my phone, “everything will work out, even if my Plan B doesn’t,” I smile and scurry out the door, before the puzzlement in his face has time to settle. 

After all, a semester is only 15 weeks long, give or take… that’s plenty of time to figure things out. 

[horrorslashergirl]

A Hacker Story. When the package burns to ashes

Authors Note: Another story, another glimpse of who the psychopathic madman known as the Hacker, was.

Warning: Contains content that may trigger some people; scenes with bullying, certain sensitive topics of abuse and abandon, and disturbing themes because it's the Hacker.

It was another Friday night, and he wasn't invited to this so called party that his girlfriend attended, or was it ex-girlfriend? Xander could tell, because she simply said she needed a break, a pause, something so she could find herself.

He was confused and tried to understand what she meant, he gave her space, not wanting to pressure her. He was fine with waiting for her. After all, they made plans, after highschool, they would both go to college, make a carrer and have a future together.

He was the type to make long-term plans. Call him a perfectionist, but that's how he liked for things to be with certain topics in his life. After his mother left him, his sister and father, he wanted to make sure things will go all smoothly, so he took precautious measures.

So, here he was, entering her house, where the party took place, his grey eyes scanning the crowd for her, seeing all kinds of people, getting drunk and doing drugs, some moving upstairs and you didn't had to be a genius to know what they would do... Hopefully not get pregnant before they could finish highschool.

Walking into the kitchen, Xander saw his 'girlfriend' outside on the back porch, his grey eyes meet her blue ones, only the glass door between them and he felt his gut twist, not because he was anxious of talking to her, but because the football captain of the school was with her, flashing him one of these arrogant raised eyebrow expressions, his bulky arms crossed over his chest, putting on an Alpha male pose to assert his dominance silently.

"Blueberry..." Dalia whispered as she slide the glass door open, wrapping her arms around Xanders neck, making him feel all warm inside, basking into her scent and feeling his anxiety vanish, a smile tugging at his lips.

"I missed you." she murmured into his neck, his own arms wrapped around her and he felt like they were the only people into the room.

Pulling away, he grinned, his pearly whites adored by neon blue braces, as he looked into her sky blues, getting lost into them.

"I got you something." Xander said, pulling out a small tablet; it was a digital photo album with all their pictures together from the moment they meet, their memories and dates, screenshot of their cute messages together.

Of course all beautiful things have to come to an end as he was tugged outside on the back porch by the football captain known as Brian, making the slimmer male drop the digital tablet, Brian stepping on it, a crack could be heard, most likely broke it.

"Hey! What-" Xander argued, a frown on his face as he gazed at Brian who rolled his eyes.

"You weren't invited and that was with a reason. I got to make sure no freaks are coming to this party." he simply said, making Xander purse his lips, scoffing and giving a dry chuckle.

"Sure.... What would we do without the star of our school.. Mr. Perfect posting each day pictures all shirtless, with your football team and your red Porsche driving to school... And all the 4,000 followers on Instagram... Which half of them are fake by the way." Xander snapped, grey eyes narrowing more, stepping in front of the muscular tall male.

"But you know what? Us... Nerds.... We are not impressed." he spat, his eyes looking on Dalias who, like everyone was watching the whole scene.

"And what are you trying to say?" Brian asked with a bored look on his face.

"I am going to college. Me and Dalia. Together. To make a carrer.... Something that you will never do. You know what happens to popular guys like you?" The nerdy grey eyes male said, getting more into Brians face, making the sturdy guy shrug.

"They end up cleaning the toilets for people like me." Xander hissed, his patience wearing thin, not standing this asshole anymore, all that arrogance because he was tall, muscular and had a big status, with girls crowding around him, like he was the big shit.

Brian rolled his eyes and turned his back to Xander, not even giving him any thoughts, like he was invisible.

"Fucker." Xander muttered, under his breath, making Brian stop and chuckle, turning back to look him straight in his grey eyes.

"And what makes you think, you.... Of all people... Will realize something big, metal-mouth?" The jock scoffed, stalking over to Xander, putting one muscular arm over the nerds shoulder.

"If I recall.... Your mommy isn't the only one that left you." Brian commented with a smirk, pointing at Dalia.

Grey eyes widened, feeling suddenly small and self concious, looking at Dalia who didn't said anything, only looking away from him, trying to hide behind one of her friends.

"I guess, you don't have the balls, huh?" Brian added, gropping Xanders crotch mockingly, making the black haired male squeak and pull away, seeing everyone looking at him, snickering and laughing.

Swallowing hard like metal nails were piercing his throat, Xander run away from the crowd, from the house, taking his bike and peddaling away form the scene, from the party. Anywhere not there to be, feeling like he was all alone.

His mother left. His girlfriend left.

After many years....

Oh yes, he recalled these memories, and now he could only laugh at what happened back then in highschool. Ignorant idiots who think their world is at their feet only because they were lucky enough to be born into the 'perfect' family.

The Hacker researched more so out of pure boredom and curiousity what his former highschool classmates realized in life.

Most of them, had mediocre jobs that could hardly pay for a rent in New York City.

Brian? Looks like Mommy and Daddy went both broke, their company falling down to ashes. The price of having a loud mouth and being a show-off. He was no longer as sturdy as he used to be. Poor Brian thought that muscels and a good look could get him anywhere... The only problem is aging and the competition into a higher league of football was too much for Mr. Perfect.

Dalia? Finished highschool, got married to a guy who turned out to be an abusive asshole who kicked her out on the streets after find a better younger deal. She used to be so cute and innocent, and now she was selling herself on the streets of New York, because lets face it; as you age, you are not longer as desirable as you used to be back in the younger days. Guys want fresh meat.

They all thought they were invincible without a stable base. They all depended on someone; their mommy and daddy, their partner who was just using them etc.

The Hacker on the other hand? He builded his own empire all alone, not depending once on someone. He was his own boss, his own rules that he lived by.

He remembered back in highschool during a biology class, about the animal hierarchy.

They were two types; the solitary ones and the pack ones.

The pack ones were strong, only in big numbers, because alone, despite being hunter, they could turn to prey so easily. Lions, buffalos, wolvs..... Yes, they are strong ones, but without a pride or pack... They are completly vulnerable.

Then, the solitary ones; Tiger, Leopard, Crocodile, Jaguar, Polar Bears .... They hunt alone, all by themselvs and they excel into that department with impecable moves. They don't depend on anyone but their own skills and powers.

The Hacker was a solitary one and he loved to be like that. He didn't had to worry about anyone, to fill his mind with useless stuff about what the other might care when that someone can always turn their claws on him.

But he was a snake... Sneaky, cunning and venomous and if someone dared to mess with the Black Mamba, then this sleek serpent will sink his fangs into said person and make them wish they were never born.

"Oh how the hierarchy has turned upside down." he whispered to himself with a sadistic smirk, twirling the bowie knife between gloved fingers, eyes from behind the mask watching the countdown for the next Red Room Event.

'Only 2 Days 18 Hours and 35 Minutes Left'

"H-Help... W-Whose there?" a helpless voice spoke from behind the Hacker, looking over his shoulder to see the shiny metal chest, the broken voice resounding from inside.

"Soon.... Very soon." he rasped out, voice husky and dripping with macabre intentions.

The games have only just began.

[writingwithacupoftea]

Comfort Blanket

Summary: It is up to Tommy and Y/N Shelby to keep the family together after their Mother’s death. They discover along the way that sometimes a comfort blanket is an object and other times it’s a feeling...

Word Count: 1891

Prompt: “There’s no place for us to sleep at night.” (part of @smallheathgangsters​ 1k followers party 💜)

A/N: This ended up being way more festive than I anticipated but, hey ho, it’s less than 3 month til Christmas now! I’ve also definitely taken some liberties with the whole pre-series story and ages and stuff but oh well. I’ve wanted to write a piece based on the blanket in this gif for a while now, so this prompt just worked perfectly for it! 

Congratulations again, Leah, on the 1k milestone - it’s so well deserved, and here's to 1k more 🥳 I hope you and everyone else enjoys my little contribution to the celebration ❤️

(gif by @nofckingfighting​)

The Shelby clan had never known darker times than the months following their mother's death.

Their father was more absent than ever before. Arthur Shelby Junior was still hopelessly trailing around after him. John had fled to Martha's house, seeking comfort in her arms. Ada was distraught, and everyone had given up trying to guess what her next move would be, for entering her teenage years had made her even more unpredictable than ever anyway. Between looking after Finn and working as much as her brother would allow, Polly was permanently exhausted.

Tommy felt like he was drowning alongside his mother, burdened with the responsibility of trying to look after his family as best he could whilst grieving.

That left Y/N. Born just a year after Tommy, she was the one he turned to when he needed a break. Whether it was to cry and mourn the loss of his beloved mother, or taking charge when all Tommy wanted to do was sleep after a long day's work, Y/N was always there. She picked up the pieces for all of her siblings, and was the oil that kept the cogs of the machine turning.

One night, Tommy and Y/N found themselves alone in the parlour, relishing in the moments of quiet that had fallen after the rest of the family had gone to bed. It was at these times that the pair confided in each other, whether it was their own news or that of their siblings.

Tonight, so far, they had sat in silence. But Y/N knew that Tommy would tell her something soon, and also knew that Tommy would be able to sense that she had something to tell him. It was all a matter of who would speak first.

"I don't know what to do, Y/N/N." Tommy had taken the leap this time.

"Don't know what to do about what?" Her brother's confession had surprised Y/N: Tommy always had a plan for everything.

"I'm doing everything I can to provide for us all and it's still not enough, even though I've taken every fucking job I can find. The lock on the door is still broken from when Dad came home drunk the other night, and the window next to Finn's nursery hasn't been mended yet from when John accidentally smashed it with his ball. Polly's had to take all of the spare blankets for him so that he doesn't get sick. We can't afford to buy any more. There's no place for us to sleep at night. Not somewhere that's safe and warm, anyway."

Y/N sighed. "First of all, Tom, and this is important, so you'd better fucking pay attention to me." Y/N was pleased to see that he let out a slight laugh at that. "You're doing an amazing job at all of this. We're all so grateful for everything you're doing, even if I'm the only one that will actually say it out loud. We couldn't ask any more of you, Tommy.

"Secondly, I may be able to help you – now, don't get mad!" Y/N added this last part hurriedly, having seen Tommy's eyebrows quickly shoot up. Taking a deep breath, Y/N broke the news. "Harry has given me a job...as a barmaid in the Garrison."

"What?!" Tommy jumped out of his seat, looking down at Y/N in disbelief. "Are you out of your mind? If you think I'm going to let you work there with all those drunk idiots every night, then you'd better think again."

"If you think you can tell me what I can and can't do, then you'd fucking better think again, Thomas," Y/N retorted, as her brother began to pace up and down the room. "In case you hadn't noticed, I'm an adult now and can make my own decisions. Anyway, I've worked everything out and I have a plan to put to you."

Tommy sat down again, not taking his eyes off his younger sister.  

"You're working yourself into the ground, Tommy, and quite frankly we can't afford for you to be ill, so you need to get some more rest." The man in question opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off immediately by Y/N. "I want you to give up a couple of your jobs – some of them only pay a pittance, whilst my wage alone would cover that and a little more. I want you to put more time and energy into building up our Dad's business. I've got this feeling that it could become so much more, and you're the one that will make it happen, Tommy, I just know it!"

The second eldest Shelby brother sighed, his head falling heavily into his hands. He had to admit, Y/N's plan sounded incredibly tempting. But still, doubts invaded his thoughts, namely his concerns over his sister working in the Garrison of all places and the question of what if it all failed? What if they ended up in a worse position than they were in now?  

With two words from Y/N, however, he was convinced: "Trust me."

"Fine. We'll give it a go on one condition – if any of those fuckers at the pub ever, and I mean ever, give you any bother whatsoever, you tell me straight away. Alright?"

Y/N smiled softly at her brother, pleased with the outcome of their conversation. "Alright," she whispered in agreement, reaching over to grab his hand.

"Thank you, Y/N." Tommy's voice broke through the silence, his sincerity as clear as day.

"We're going to be alright, Tom. One day, we won't have to worry about everyone being safe and warm in their beds. It might take some time, but we'll get there eventually."

Tommy nodded, almost imperceptibly, before slowly getting up to make his way to his own bed, only stopping to place a gentle kiss to his sister's forehead.

All they could do now was pray that Y/N would be right once again.

***

About a year later, their prayers were beginning to be answered.

Business at the betting shop was flourishing, and the Shelby's were gaining more respect by the day. It was all illegal, of course, but all that mattered to Tommy and Y/N was that enough money was rolling in to look after the family.

As Christmas drew nearer, their house was beginning to feel more like a home again for the first time since their mother passed. Fires roared in the hearth at night, they had finally been able to make the repairs that the house so desperately needed, and the family seemed to be happy.  

The future looked brighter for the Shelby clan, and it was a sight that Y/N was overjoyed to have before her. Her plan had worked, the dark circles beneath Tommy's eyes were melting away and her Christmas present for him was finally ready.

Despite Tommy's arguments that she didn't need to stay on at the Garrison anymore, Y/N had decided to keep her job there. Surprisingly, she'd discovered that she was rather good at bar work and had been immensely satisfied when her brothers had entered the pub on one of their 'check-ups' on her to witness her chucking a couple of drunks out onto the street by the scruffs of their neck. Y/N liked earning her own money, rather than relying on Tommy, and it meant that no questions were asked about how she was spending it.

Most of her wages had gone towards Tommy's present, and Y/N could only hope that he liked it. The closer and closer that it got to the big day, the more Y/N began to doubt it. But she'd put too much work into it to turn back now.

She had decided against leaving it under the tree, not wanting anyone to be ridiculed for it, and instead kept it a secret in her room. So, on the night of the 25th, Y/N padded down the stairs to meet Tommy alone in the parlour.

"I thought you'd be in bed by now." Tommy was smiling up at her from his seat on the sofa.

"You know I'm always too excited at Christmas to get much sleep." Her brother rolled his eyes fondly at Y/N's reminder. "Anyway, I have one more present to give out."

Tommy's brows furrowed in confusion. "But we all opened your presents earlier, Y/N/N?"

"Yes, yes, I know – you don't need to make this any more embarrassing for me than it already is!."

The man in question chuckled, holding his hands up in surrender.

Y/N sat down next to her brother, and handed him the carefully wrapped package. "Happy Christmas, Tommy," she said, gently. As he began to open it, Y/N's nervous rambling automatically began. "Now, if you don't like it, just tell me. I won't be offended! I can find something else to do with it. It's not really your colours, now I think about it, and - "

"Y/N do you want me to open this or not?" Tommy snapped, but his eyes were full of fondness for his younger sister.

"Yes," Y/N replied, meekly.

Tommy pulled away the last of the wrapping to find a thick patchwork blanket, which was clearly handmade. Speechless at the thought and care put into the gift, he asked the only question that was running through his head:  "Why?"

"I wanted to give you something special to say thank you for everything you've done for us since Mum died. Also, I'm not stupid, you know." At Tommy's confused expression, Y/N elaborated. "Nearly every morning before we got the house fixed up, I used to wake up with double the amount of blankets on top of me compared to how many I went to bed with. Your blankets, Tommy, when we barely had enough to share between us all in the first place. So I wanted to make you one myself that is yours and yours alone.

"You said to me once that we had nowhere to sleep at night that was safe and warm, but you created that place for us, for me. I know we've got plenty of blankets in the house now, but I just wanted to try and give you that same feeling of comfort that you gave to me." She stopped talking at that, suddenly aware of how long she had been going on for.

Tommy held the warm fabric in his hands, his thumb tracing the messy stitching which held each patch together, trying to blink away the tears glazing his eyes. "I love it, sweetheart. Thank you."

A relieved smile lit Y/N's face, but it was quickly replaced by a loud yawn. She gently rested her head on Tommy's shoulder as she curled her legs up on the sofa, and he wrapped his arm around her.

"Happy Christmas, Tom," Y/N mumbled sleepily.

"Happy Christmas, Y/N/N," Tommy replied with a smile.

Moments later, Y/N's breathing had evened out and she had fallen into a deep slumber. Tommy's eyes flitted between her sleeping form and the beautiful blanket on his knee.

Maybe he could share his blanket with his sister just one more time...