#and acknowledgment I have written my ass off these past 3 months.

[bylightofdawn]

Alright, I got about 3K written and the next part is gonna be a doozy Jaster's about to get some not happy fun news...hell it's not like it's a HUGE SURPRISE but he's going to find out Montross betrayed him and it's gonna be a s h i t s h o w.

And absolutely no one but Jaster was surprised, especially with the less than subtle hints I've been laying down. So that's going to take a while to write and since it's 12:30 I'm going to be a good girl and call it quits even though I high key cannot wait to write this terrible confrontation.

EDIT: Also, I'm gonna take a sec to edit and interrupt myself. I WROTE 3K WORDS IN ONE NIGHT. HOW FUCKING AWESOME IS THAT? And I've been regularly pumping out that word count which is how I've written like prolly 70K words in like 3 months. Maybe more I need to go back and look and see how much I'd written a few years ago when I started Seeds before my writing urge ran away from me.

Just did the calculation and it's rough but I'd written 11K of Seeds. With chapter 21 (not including 22 since I'm not adding stuff to the master doc until I'm done with a chapter) I'm at 103,000 words. I've written 92,000 words SINCE JANUARY. I can't even comprehend that. Like my brain cannot wrap itself around that large of a number. I get PANICKY thinking of a number that large and wondering how the fuck that happened. I wrote that? Me? It does not compute.

I am allowing myself to pat myself on the back for that accomplishment. I set out with an unofficial New Year's resolution (which I studiously never make because I feel like I always fail) to try and write a little bit a day. Well jokes on me because I've exceeded that expectation and resolution with flying colors. So this is me giving myself some well-deserved back pats and acknowledgment that I am awesome.

I'm not the greatest author out there, I have a lot of room for improvement but I am working on honing those skills, and that deserves to be acknowledged.

OKAY back to blathering on about Hot Toy's displays and diorama shit.

Instead I will write it tomorrow and try to get to bed at a reasonable hour. I want to take a second to blather on about something totally different. I've got three Star Wars Hot Toy's figures, my favorite boys Rex, Obi-Wan and Cody that I've picked up over the past few years. They live in an Ikea display case at the top and I love looking inside and seeing them but man I get so bummed at how shitty my display skills are.

I legit watched a Tested video today and Norm did this amazing customer display of like the new Bo-Katan hot toys figure displayed hanging from the ceiling seemingly in mid-flight descending on Mando. He apparently did it BEFORE he saw Mando S3 and he like a lot of us thought there'd be this huge confrontation between them. Anyway it looks amazing and I know I could never do anything that cool because 1) I lack the skill or experience. 2) I'm not backed by fucking Tested and have access to a $4,000 glowforge laser cutter to make custom acrylic cuts etc. Or a high end 3D printer etc. Suffice it to say that shit is an EXPENSIVE barrier to entry.

I have debated off and on spending a couple hundred dollars on a 3D printer and teaching myself how to do 3D modeling. I think it would be hard but I think I could teach myself how to do it. But it's justifying the price to even start. I have no interest in teaching myself how to do this and flipping shit on etsy with dozens of other people selling diorama pieces or turning it into a business. I don't think there's a lot of money to be had that way to be brutally honest and there's again dozens of sellers already doing that.

So I'd be literally investing a couple hundred dollars just to creatively challenge myself which isn't a bad thing. There's the satisfaction of learning a new skill and in learning. I just cannot justify the price just to satisfy my curiosity. I HAVE debated starting smaller. Like trying to do custom diorama bases all old-school and such. But I feel like there's still prolly a lot of up front money for supplies, prolly need more tools than the simple dremel I have. I don't even own a drill LOL I've been using my poor dremel as a drill for projects around my apartment and that has a very limited size of bits it can fit. Hell I wrestled with justifying buying that years ago, it was like 90 bucks and I've prolly realistically used it less than 10 times in like 5+ years.

I might still try it. I think I'd like to do a sort of desert /Utapau-inspired base for Cody and Obi-Wan.

Cody's figure actually came with a sandy textured base but Obi-Wan's was smooth. I ended up getting some 'action posable' stand off of Amazon which are hexagonal shaped and click together so I could display them together. Rex I'm just using the stand he came with which already has the bendable 'action' pose so he looks like he's flying. In a very lame and totally uninspired way. But we make due with the skills we have until we are willing to put for the effort to sharpen them and improve.

So really, I feel silly even whining about hating my display skills when I haven't managed to even move past the want and thinking stage of trying to improve it. I could buy a premade stand prolly for 50 to 100 bucks but that's a lot of money. Shit people are nuts, they are charging 50 bucks for what is essentially a full color vinyl sticker. Ya'l are joking, I know what that shit costs thanks to my years as being a printer so I could 100% get that made up for like 20-25 bucks at my local sign shop. Maybe less, I'll be honest I've been out of the game for a few years so it could be less or more.

People are charging stupid prices for those cool looking 3D printed ubiquitous Empire-inspired star destroyer panels. Like to the tune of 70 bucks for one panel like 4x12 panel. Which I'm sure is ALSO way overpriced. So technically I guess BUYING a 3D printer and making my own might end up being cheaper in the long run but....bro.

I think I could prolly get my hands on chipboard and maybe glue together a couple of layers and hand cut out the design though I suspect it wouldn't be as neat or clean. But it's cheaper than the shit they sell on etsy. Pffft I could prolly go by a print shop and see if they have some larger sheets. I do have some sintra left over from years ago when I attempted to make my set of Tobirama armor which is way stiffer but I nearly cut my finger off with the cut off wheel on my dremel soooooooooooo I'm very nervy around using the cut off wheel. LOL

I might find a thinner version online the stuff I used was like 1/4 thickness or something meant to be used for signs. Coroplast would be an excellent choice if it didn't have the visible ribbing where the expanded foam channels weren't so obvious. But that easily cuts with an exacto knife. Hmmmn I wonder if there would be a way of covering it maybe with plastic dip or something they use for foam sealant on foam armor? You can apparently sand that down.

That might not be a bad choice for like flat surfaces. And I'd be covering it with a sandy texture anyway. Just don't know if it can be heat formed. I might have to hit up Juan and see if he'd be willing to sell me a couple sheets of coroplast to experiment with. There are also things like paper mache, but ugh that shit is messy and I've had limited success making props with it in the past. Same for foam clay though I think with a couple of layers of plastidip it might not look as bad as the stuff I've done in the past.

And hell that's prolly less than 20 bucks in materials to just play around and find out. I love I've spent 30 minutes just typing up this long, meandering flow of thought. This is totally the quality content I'm sure people have followed my tumblr for.

But again it's post midnight and post midnight Gremlin brian!El is not responsible for the shit she posts. Maybe I should put that as a disclaimer on my blog. :P

Look it's Star Wara tangential. at least.

Of course, the problem with a small town is the only hobby store in town is Hobby Lobby and I REFUSE to give them any of my money so I might have to drive into San Antonio to Michaels to get some hobby crap. Or continue to support Daddy Bezos which I'm also not super hot on though it's become a sort of necessary evil at this point.

Man I wish I could go back to 10 years ago me when I didn't have to debate ethical consumerism cause it kinda sucks and I miss that obliviousness.

[jacobsnsfw]

half time, dream

NSFW! MINORS DNI ISTG

PAIRING  football!dream x fem!reader

PRONOUNS she/her

WARNINGS unprotected ( wrap b4 u tap! ) hate sex, choking spitting, degradation, hair pulling,

SONG REC girls need love, summer walker

WORD COUNT 2.28k

NOTE  this is fully inspired by @/slapnap , @/whoranges , & their wonderful anons.  football!dream my love </3 it's been months since i've written smut bare with me pls😩. it’s written kind of weird, i wrote it almost in past tense? they’re both 18 and seniors

wattpad      

     HALF TIME HAD FINALLY BEGAN all the players from each team had went to hydrate and talk amongst themselves, (y/n) watched clay's cocky smirk form on his face as the other cheerleaders on her cheer squad surrounded that gorgeous bastard, and showered him with compliments about how good he looked or how well he played.

she hated everything about him, the way he obnoxiously flirted with every girl to ever enter the school's front doors, hell he's even tried on multiple teachers. he made her skin crawl but yet, he was unimaginably attractive. clay's green eyes gazed pasted the heads of the girls in front of him, the smirk on his face grew as his eyes raked down (y/n)'s a beautiful figure in her uniform that fit her body perfectly, her hips and tits on full display only covered by the short skirt and tight top.

once their eyes met the cheerleader was quick to break eye contact praying he didn't get the wrong idea, but his long legs carried him quickly to where she was leaning against the metal pole holding up the stands, "staring isn't very nice y'know" she hated the way he spoke and the effect he had on her.

"why don't you go fuck yourself" she more-so told him then asked, "oh come on.." he trailed off a faux pout pulling at his lips that (y/n) rolled her eyes at.

"why don't you and i take a trip to the locker rooms, hm?" he asked. something that damn near no one knew, was the fact that they had gotten together at clay's friend karl's house, in his bed, but they never talked about it, and if niki, one of (y/n)'s close friends, were to bring it up, (y/n) would say it was some mistake, but she never forgot the things clay made her feel that night, maybe it was the adrenaline she was feeling that made her overly sensitive, but he was.. different.

her eyebrows raised and her thighs clenched at the memory, "what are you thinking about?" clay asked his voice huskier than before. he placed his index finger under her chin, making her look him in the eyes. how the hell are you supposed to tell someone you're daydreaming about the sex you had with them, maybe if he wasn't so full of himself now, she would've told him, but no.

"thinking about how you're on my last nerve" she snapped putting on her best angry look, as if she wasn't soaked from his voice and her thoughts alone, pulling her head away from him quickly. "feisty... i like it" he tutted running his thumb over her bottom lip. he pulled her into him by her waist, "come on, you had fun last time.." he continued, he wasn't wrong but, (y/n) would never admit that.

his lips met hers as shock crossed her brain, but when his teeth sunk into her bottom lip and slipped his tongue inside her mouth, she moaned, as if there were parents and their peer's siblings just above them on the bleachers, but that didn't matter at the time. their mouths slotted together euphorically, teeth and tongue clashing.

clay's muscular thigh lifted to meet her pussy that was covered by a thin, skimpy pair of panties and short spandex, and he pressed into it so she could feel him through the clothing.

(y/n) quietly protested when his lips left her own, "come on" he mumbled pulling her behind him to what looked to be the boys' locker room, "i can't go in there" she stopped in her tracks, standing just outside the door, clay rolled his eyes and grabbed her wrist pulling her in.

"as if you coming in the locker room's a big deal. no one's here to snitch and no one will find out" he mumbled like they weren't about to have sex where any of his teammates or coaches could walk in.

he pushed her up against the cold lockers, the cold metal and clay's mouth back on hers sent chills up her whole body. god, the thought of someone walking into his hands gliding down her body, and gripping her ass under the inappropriately short skirt, made her brain fog.

(y/n) reached down and tugged the clothing on her lower half off, leaving a pair of black panties thin enough to not see through the spandex that pooled at her ankles that she had on only so no one could see what she didn't want them to.

they pulled away from each other, clay palmed his erection through his pants, (y/n) grabbed him by his shirt, and pulled him back into her by his shoulder pads, "are these staying on?" she asked quietly and clay nodded in response, they only had around fifteen minutes left of their thirty

the football player's hands trailed from where they sat on her waist, to her throat, he wrapped them tight but not too tight, just enough so she could breathe, "what do you want me to do" clay teased, he knew what she wanted, but he wasn't going to just fuck her, he wanted her to beg.

"fuck you, i'm not doing it." (y/n) said, it's almost like she could read his mind if she did beg he would brag about it for the remainder of the time they fucked around together.

"oh.. okay" he replied nonchalantly pulling away from where he had her pressed against the lockers, and heading towards the door, "wait, clay!" she walked quickly after him, grabbing his wrist pulling him into her.

their chest colliding just before she reached up and pulled his head- more specifically his left ear, whispering, "clay, please fuck me~" she moaned loudly and obnoxiously squeaky into it and he almost lost it.

his hands that were at his side, came back to her waist and her throat, "listen, we both know how much of a slut for me you are, and don't pretend any different, got it?" he asked his tone was serious and that's what made it even hotter, c'mon if a greek god were to be in your face telling you how much of a slut you were, how would you act?

she hummed, acknowledging what he said. his grip on her throat tightened ever so slightly, "words, whore" he hummed his calloused hand left her hip and trailed teasingly down her thigh, and slapping it roughly.

"yes," she gasped when his hand met her flesh soothing the stop he hit, "i'm.. a slut for you" her hands met his broad shoulders, her nails digging into the clothing that covered them.

a deep grunt left his agape mouth, and he pulled the top off the cheer uniform up enough to expose her tits to him. his mouth as quick to attach to the left one, her hands tangled in his dusty, blond locks, when his teeth barely grazed over her nipple, her breath caught in her throat and her hands tugged at his hair.

(y/n)'s head tipped back and met the lockers, with a so much force a small clang bounced off the walls of the large room, "careful doll, don't wanna hurt that pretty little head of yours." clay spoke up his mouth releasing her breast with an audible 'pop'.

his hands reached to pull the pants from upon his hips, but before he did, he glanced up at (y/n) for permission, she nodded with a dopey smile on her face. the bare minimum just hits different when he's with her.

"ya'sure you wanna do this?" he asked, he didn't want to force her into anything she was uncomfortable with, i'm sure if she had an issue she would've said or done something sooner, but just in case she didn't.

"m'sure" she mumbled out, her dainty, slender fingers tugged at his hair again trying her best to make him hurry and fuck her before time ran out, to say she was eager would be an understatement.

clay laughed at her neediness, "for someone who hates me, you sure don't act like it. all needy for me, hm?" he was so painfully conceited he knew how hot he was and he knew how to treat someone mentally and physically.

the pants he wore for the game, were quick to be tugged down his hips, and his boxers as well, fully exposing himself to (y/n) and anyone who could walk in at any time.

he wrapped his hands around his cock, stroking it slowly almost like he was teasing himself, a grunt passed his lips and his hips pressed more into his hand, though (y/n) didn't want him to get to into it and grabbed his wrist causing his hand to almost halt and his eyes locked with (y/n)'s.

"use me not your hand, please" she cooed under her breath wiggling in his tight hold. he laughed once again at her neediness.

"you want me to fuck you? use you like a toy?" teasing, teasing, and more teasing, he enjoyed watching her struggle and rub aimlessly against him, it was hot to him at least.

she continued nodding, like that was the only thing she could do, "please. pl-please" the high-pitched moan that followed her stumbled words made clay almost want to edge her until she was crying in his arms, but then he remembered the time crunch.

he grabbed her chin making eye contact with her as he rubbed his cock against her slit trying his best to get a reaction and pushed slowly into her.

"clay~ hngg" she moaned, her plan to keep at least a little bit quiet was crushed when he slowly started thrusting into her, his pace speeding every time he pushed back in

his thumb rubbed against her bottom lip, opening her mouth slightly, clays brows raised expectantly waiting for her to open it the rest of the way, when she did, the spit that pooled on his tongue transferred to hers, "swallow it, bitch" he spoke through gritted teeth.

his cock nudged that spot deep inside her, and her back arched from the locker and her moans stuttered, "right there- fuck!" (y/n) gasped as her legs wrapped impossibly tighter around his hips pulling him closer, just to make him hit it again. 

his thrusts were almost animalistic at this point, and the words that streamed from (y/n)'s gorgeous lips were echoed throughout the room, her mind ran so fast she could barely keep up, maybe this is why they called him dream, ‘cause fuck was this is like a erotic fantasy. it was almost embarrassing how fast he could make her cum.

her brain became more foggy than when this started, her thigh started to quiver ever so slightly, “you g’na come?” clay taunted, his hips slowing. she didn’t even reply her legs wrapped tighter around his hips, pulling him into her, as she ground herself against his cock. 

her velvety walls enveloped around him tightly, pulling a strangled gasp from clay, his left hand reached to tug the ends of her hair exposing her neck to him. his lips attached to her neck, “no marks, someone’ll see” (y/n) mumbled threading her fingers through his hair.

“ ‘ts baffling how you think i give a fuck.” he muttered continuing his harsh thrusts and his mouth sucking red marks that would be soon become a deep purple color. (y/n)’s vision blurred slightly and she swore she could see stars, the ahegao-like expression present on her features reminded clay of the hentai he’d seen that sapnap had sent him, drool dripped from her tongue and down her chin, like a child. 

a white ring could be seen every time clay pulled out to thrust back in, he fucked her through her orgasm, attempting to chase his that was so close he could practically taste it, his hips stuttered and his pace slowed quite a bit.

his body slumped against hers, and his head fell into her shoulder as he breathed in the overly expensive perfume and matching lotion she wore all the time, it was her go, kind of fruity and coconut-y, not too sweet but sweet enough to get the point across. 

the afterglow they were basking in was cut short by the banging on the door from someone, “clay? are you in there” what sounded like clay’s good friend alex on the other side of the door, “yeah, i’ll be out in a sec” he yelled back pushing off of where he was leaning against (y/n). 

a dopey smile pulled at her lips as she pulled her skirt up from on the floor, "what's so fuckin' funny?" clay asked with his brows furrowed. "nothing, just had sex with a hot guy in his locker room at a football game" she mumbled pulling her top over her boobs and walking past him making sure their shoulders brushed when she did. clay stared at the door, dumbfounded, she just walked away as if he didn't just ruin her, if she didn't feel it now she definitely would later.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: sorry for the wait yall this month really kicked my ass,, but also we reached part 20!!

tw infertility discussion

***

Gwyn: isn’t he beautiful <3

In the freezing February air outside the tea house, Nesta clicks on the picture attached to Gwyn’s text. It’s a distant shot of a man in his mid-thirties hunched over a library desk while working, unaware that there’s a camera on him. She’ll give it to Gwyn, though—he is a little handsome.

Emerie: the stalker levels are through the roof, gwyneth. seek help.

Gwyn: no i’m gonna marry him

Nesta doesn’t know whether to laugh or be concerned, but she types out a brief response before her thumbs fall off from the cold: Will give my opinion on him later. Got to go.

Gwyn’s crush will have to wait, Nesta thinks as she finally puts her phone away and pushes her way inside the exquisite tea house. Immediately, blasting heat thaws her frozen fingers and toes, and farther inside she spots the table she reserved for three. Right now, only one person sits at it.

Nesta grits her teeth and approaches the round table, heels clicking softly on the parquet floors. Elain doesn’t look up from the menu she’s reading. “This place would be nicer to visit in the spring,” is her only acknowledgment of Nesta.

“I like the winter,” Nesta answers simply, taking her seat across from Elain. She likes how the ice creeps over the garden outside until everything looks frozen in time, and she likes how the colorful flowers and trees become dulled by white snow. Not that her sister would understand or care.

“Of course you do,” Elain mutters, setting down the menu with all the careful elegance of a debutante. “I’m only here for Feyre, anyway.”

It almost saddens Nesta that she doesn’t feel hurt or offense at the words. She thought she would care more about Elain’s opinion than she actually does. “Where is Feyre, then?” she says, looking pointedly at the empty seat between them. “I thought she was coming with you.”

“I’m right here,” a breathless voice says, accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps. Feyre appears, looking flushed from exertion and the cold. She sets her bag down and joins them at the table, scooting her seat all the way in. “Sorry I’m late. What did I miss?”

“Nothing,” Nesta bites. “I was just about to order.”

“So was I.” Elain smiles breezily.

Feyre glances between the two of them, clear concern on her face, but she covers it up and says, “I’m so glad we’re doing this.”

It was Feyre’s idea, of course. After Nesta told her off for never being interested in what she wanted to do, Feyre actually listened. She asked if Nesta wanted to hang out, and then let Nesta fill in the rest of the details on her own terms.

Which brings them to the tea house. Unfortunately for her sisters, however, Nesta doesn’t really know where to go from ordering tea and biscuits.

“How is school going?” Feyre asks her after their drinks arrive.

Nesta sips from her tea, already bored. “It’s been fifteen minutes and you have yet to say anything of substance, Feyre. It makes me miss being alone with Elain and her mood.”

Feyre looks taken aback, and Elain levels a glare at Nesta. An unsurprised, of course you have to ruin everything like this glare.

So Nesta clarifies, “That wasn’t an attack. I just hoped that after driving out here, I would get something better than shallow small talk.”

“And how do you know it was shallow?” Elain steps in harshly. “How do you know she isn’t actually interested in how you’re doing at school?”

Nesta slides blunt blue eyes to Feyre. “If that’s the case, then I commend you. Personally, I wouldn’t give a shit if I was in your position.”

To her surprise, Feyre snorts. She looks resigned when she says, “No, you’re right. I don’t care about what’s going on at school, not if you don’t. What would you rather we talk about then, Nesta?”

Without hesitation, Nesta says, “Ask me something you really care to hear the answer to.”

Elain shuts her mouth and sits back at that. Feyre twists her lips, thinking her next words over carefully. “How is your therapy going?” she finally asks in a cautious tone. “What do you talk about there?”

Remembering that she’s in a formal setting, Nesta stops herself from crossing her arms. She settles on wrapping her fingers delicately around her teacup instead. “We talk about whatever I feel like talking about,” she answers honestly. Although lately her conversations with Lana feel more restrained than usual.

“And what’s that?” Feyre urges.

Nesta shrugs, fitting apathy onto her face like an old mask. “Recently? Childbearing.” But it isn’t her favorite topic of discussion, not at all.

“You’re pregnant?” Elain jumps in, leading Nesta to throw her an unamused look.

“No, idiot,” she says. “My therapist just has the idea that if I end up being infertile it’ll screw me up, mentally and emotionally and whatever. She thinks I should deal with that baggage now instead of saving it for later.” She rolls her eyes thinking about it. How many times does she have to repeat that she doesn’t care about her body’s reproductive abilities until Lana gets it?

Feyre chuckles, confused. “Why would you be infertile?”

Nesta forgot—she didn’t want her sisters knowing anything that has to do with her health. She even made Cassian keep her doctor visits secret from Feyre. But that was months ago, and the sisters are… not exactly in a better place now, but looking for the way there. Nesta thinks she can tell them without any severe regrets. “I have endometriosis.”

When she’s met with silence, she adds, “You know, with the tissue growing on my ovaries and stuff. It might affect all the babies I don’t care to have in the future.”

Elain is the first to speak. “You always wanted to be a mother.” Her voice is soft, almost mourning. It irritates the hell out of Nesta.

“No, I didn’t,” she snaps back.

“You did,” Elain insists. Feyre still hasn’t said anything. “You took care of our cat, Mittens, until the day she died. You taught Feyre her alphabet. You raised me when Mama and Papa were too busy to do it. You never carried dolls around in strollers or anything, but you loved being a mother.”

“I don’t remember any of this,” Feyre says, blinking. “I’m sorry, can we go back to the endometriosis part?”

Nesta sips from her tea, the bitter taste a welcome distraction from Elain’s words. “What about it?”

“How long have you known?” Feyre demands.

“It isn’t cancer. And I’m getting treated, obviously. I’m fine.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Nesta sighs, setting her cup down. “October. Cassian made me go to the doctor because he was worried about my periods, we had a big fight about health insurance, and now I use my salary from your boyfriend to afford medication so I don’t feel like dying every month. Is that everything you wanted to hear?”

Feyre only stares at her, for once revealing no emotion. “I keep forgetting,” she says finally, “that we’re not at a place to share things like that with each other. I keep being surprised every time I realize how much of your life you keep from us.”

“I don’t,” Elain huffs under her breath while she tears a croissant in half.

Nesta is still watching Feyre. “You remember how bad my cycles were? I would cry loud enough at night to wake the house.”

Feyre flinches at the memory, and Elain goes still.

“But no one ever woke up,” Nesta says. They never talked about it before, and she has no desire to keep speaking about it now. If they start to tally all the hurts they’ve dealt to each other, Nesta fears they’ll be here for hours. Worse, she fears she will lose.

She reaches for a lavender macaron and delicately pulls it apart, studying the cream filling inside. “Did you know they make these using the lavender flowers from the garden outside?”

“I hate lavender,” Elain says.

Spying her chance to shift the subject off herself, Nesta goes for it. “Because Azriel smells like lavender?” She pushes one half of the dainty cookie past her lips, chewing. “It’s an interesting cologne choice, I agree.”

“Wait, what are we talking about now?” Feyre looks around, unaware that they’ve moved onto another topic.

Elain’s innocent brown eyes turn into daggers pointed at Nesta, betrayal written across her face. Nesta feels no pity for her—especially not if they’re going to sit around judging each other for keeping secrets.

Feyre’s eyes widen and she turns to Elain. “Is it about your,” she lowers her voice and whispers, “crush?”

Nesta raises a skeptical brow. She doubts whatever Az and Elain have stops at just a crush.

“No, it’s not,” Elain answers determinedly. “God, do you have to bring men into everything, Nesta?”

“I think you’re projecting.”

“Quit it,” Feyre snaps at the both of them. “Or I’ll grab my things and leave.”

Do it, Nesta almost dares. But she has a feeling that Feyre means it, that she won’t submit to being taunted, so Nesta reins the words back from the tip of her tongue. After all, this tea is expensive.

The sisters take a moment to settle, and Feyre is the one to restart the conversation. “Either way,” she tells Nesta, “it looks like counseling is going really well for you. I’m glad.”

“Yeah, it really gives your skin a certain glow,” Elain drawls.

Nesta doesn’t rise to meet her sarcasm. In all seriousness, Elain and Feyre could probably use a therapist themselves. It might make Nesta’s interactions with them less headache-inducing.

“You should visit one day,” she throws the suggestion out without thinking.

“What, like a therapy session?” Feyre says.

Realizing the implications of her terrible idea, Nesta forces herself not to backpedal. “Yes,” she makes herself grit out. “If you’re interested, that is.”

Elain and Feyre share a glance of hesitation and concern. It’s a glance that grates on Nesta’s nerves, but she keeps her mouth shut and waits for a response.

Feyre answers first: “We’ll do it.”

Elain looks more doubtful, but seems to realize that refusing to go would paint her in a negative light. We can’t have that, can we? Nesta thinks wryly. She reaches for some macarons and starts stuffing them into her purse. “Sounds good. Great.” It is not at all great. Having her sisters in the same room as her and Lana might just be terrible enough to ruin Nesta’s next month or two.

“I’ll text you the details whenever I feel like it,” she tells Feyre and Elain as she rises out of her seat. Likely not for as long as possible.

“Where are you going?” Elain demands.

“I’m leaving.” Nesta pointedly drapes her coat over her shoulders, picking up her purse. “I have plans for the rest of the day, sorry.” Plans to get home and rate Gwyn’s work crush on a scale of one to ten. Maybe she’ll rewatch a sitcom if she has time.

“But it’s only been an hour,” Feyre protests.

Did Feyre think they would be spending the whole day together? Nesta wants to shudder at the mere idea of it, but she somehow… feels bad for her sister. “Maybe another time,” she promises vaguely. To provide some sort of reassurance, she adds, “I had fun today. Thanks for pulling this together.” The words are hollow, fake, and she’s probably a hypocrite for not being able to return the same sincerity she demanded from Feyre. But honesty isn’t going to get Nesta very far today, so this false politeness is the best she can manage.

Elain looks somewhat relieved, and Feyre looks disappointed but unsurprised. “Alright.” The girls nod at her. “Get home safe.”

She turns and leaves as soon as she’s given the green light.

A stale scent greets Nesta when she enters her apartment, reminding her that she hasn’t been around in days. In her defense, the winter months are easier to bear in Cassian’s heated cabin than in a poorly insulated basement.

Flicking the lights on, Nesta books it to the thermostat, her teeth nearly chattering out of her body. After turning the heat as high as it can go, she climbs beneath the covers of her bed without bothering to take her coat off. She doesn’t take out her phone to text the groupchat like she promised she would. She doesn’t even get her laptop to turn Netflix on. Rather, her focus is caught on the framed picture of her and Cassian sitting atop the dresser.

Everything was okay as she stepped out of the tea house. It wasn’t until she was inside her car that it came upon her: the whirlwind of emotions that had stayed so carefully hidden while she chatted with her sisters. All throughout the drive home, her mind kept returning to that one topic. Children.

Elain said that Nesta used to genuinely enjoy playing substitute mother when they were children, and she was right. But that was all fun and games, like playing teacher. What Elain left out was what happened after their actual mother died and their father went into debt, leaving all three girls in need of a parent figure. Nesta wasn’t a mother then—or at least, not a good one.

Now, she stares at the picture full of smiley cheeks and windblown hair, remembering the night that she realized she wanted to hold Cassian’s hand in hers.

She can’t imagine Cassian not wanting kids. They’ve never discussed it, but it’s so obvious to anyone who’s ever met him: he has too much love to give away to not one day end up with a whole brood of children. The thought makes Nesta’s stomach churn.

***

“Thanks again, guys.” Cassian shakes hands with his team as they file out of the conference room, all of them dressed professionally while he lingers in his hoodie. As soon as the last worker is out the door, he pulls out his phone, ready to shoot Nesta a message. She met up with her sisters alone today for the first time in a year, and he can’t wait any longer to find out if their brunch ended in a fight or not.

He clicks on his phone to find two texts from his brother, sent not too long ago.

Rhys: You’re in the office today for the monthly check-in, right?

Rhys: Don’t leave after the meeting is over. I’ll be there in an hour to introduce you to the new guy heading the Milan project.

Cassian frowns, confused. Rhys and the new guy are coming all the way up here to meet him? He didn’t know he was that important to the project.

While he waits for his unexpected guests, Cassian texts Nesta twice, and only receives a single short response saying she got home safe. Resolving to call and have a real conversation with her later, he gets up to change into the spare buttondown and pressed slacks he keeps in a locker in his office. If Rhys wants him to play the part of company boss, then he might as well look the part.

He’s adjusting the cuffs of his dark-colored shirt when the door to his office opens without warning, and Rhysand strides in followed by a stiff-looking young man.

Cassian eyes the stranger up and down first, trying to get a read on him the way he’s seen Nesta and Rhys read others. He doesn’t come up with a single thing, as usual, but he hopes he achieved his goal of looking intimidating.

“Cass,” Rhys greets him with a subdued nod, in full CEO mode. “This is our new hire, Keith O’Connell. I snagged him from right under Vanserra & Co.’s noses.” His near-violet eyes gleam with pride. “He’s going to be working out of Milan for us starting this summer.”

“Sounds good to me.” Cassian smiles lazily, and this is something he doesn’t need to fake—confidence. He reaches out to shake Keith’s hand. “Hi. I’m Cassian Madani.”

“Good to meet you.” The other man shakes back, but his grip is too tight, like he’s trying to break Cassian’s hand. Try-hard, a voice that sounds like Nesta tells him. Uses arrogance to cover up his insecurity.

Cassian takes it all into account as he pulls his hand away, seeing Keith through clearer eyes. His dark brown hair is slicked back with copious amounts of hair product, and a shrewd black gaze takes in every detail of the office. He stands like he’s attempting to seem taller than he actually is.

A typical white-collar worker looking for a way up the corporate ladder, Cassian concludes. Nothing he hasn’t seen before, but there must be a reason Rhys is so excited about him.

“Keith is starting here at your branch next week,” Rhys is saying when Cassian refocuses.

He blinks, unsure if he heard correctly. “What, all the way out here?” Away from Velaris in this modest mountain town?

“We agreed it was best if you two work together as closely as possible while preparing for the summer launch. Since you can’t come to Velaris, that means Keith comes here.”

Cassian looks at Rhys in astonishment. He thought that once he rejected the Milan position, he’d cleaned his hands of the job for good. Clearly he was wrong. “Just how involved am I going to be on this project?”

Rhys grins back at him. “You’ll lead from home base, of course.”

Cassian glares. Rhys responds with a look that says they’ll talk about this later.

Keith seems to find the idea of working alongside another person as distasteful as Cassian finds it unexpected, but he says anyway, “I can’t wait to start working together. I have a lot of ideas for the Italian outpost that I think you’ll appreciate.”

“I’m sure I will,” Cassian hums. “When do you start again?”

“Next Monday.”

“Then we should talk then.” Cassian gestures out the door. Keith looks taken aback, likely having expected more out of this meeting. But Cassian can’t meet with this guy until he gets a hold of what the fuck is going on. After shepherding Keith out of the office and shutting the door after him, he turns to Rhys with a raised brow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Rhys warns. “Your role in this project is serious.”

“This project isn’t even part of my job description. What am I supposed to know about international business conductions?”

“You know enough to keep an eye on that O’Connell kid for me.” Rhys leans against Cassian’s desk as if it’s his own and crosses his feet. “He’s an asset to the company, but he also worked for our competitors up to a couple of months ago. I can’t trust him to manage this thing on his own, and I don’t have the time or resources right now to watch over him myself. That’s why the duty falls to you.”

“I manage security,” Cassian states, in case it wasn’t obvious. “What about Az?”

“Az has his own things to handle.” Rhys waves him off. “Just do what I tell you to, will you? Pay attention to O’Connell for the duration of the Italy venture and make sure he doesn’t steer our ship off course. You’ll get paid triple for the extra hours.”

“I don’t need triple,” Cassian grumbles, but Rhys is no longer listening. He’s typing on his phone and already heading for the door.

“Feyre and I are having dinner here before heading back home,” he calls over his shoulder. “See you later; I believe in you!” The door shuts after him, leaving Cassian alone.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies to the empty room.

Cassian leaves not long after Rhysand does, having no excuse to linger. Outside, he’s greeted with a surprise leaning against the hood of his truck.

Nesta pushes off the hood as soon as he catches notice of her. “Long day?” she asks.

He laughs for the first time all afternoon, the sound surprised and genuine. “I was just thinking about you.”

“That’s why I’m here. I heard your thoughts.” There’s a light in her pale eyes that only burns whenever she looks at him. It’s the same light that powers her ability to make jokes and let her guard down around him in a way she can’t with most others, and Cassian is especially grateful for it today.

Nesta reaches out and takes his hand into hers. He watches the way their palms fit together in endless fascination, his brown fingers a stark contrast against her white ones. He squeezes once and looks back up at her. “How did meeting your sisters go? You never told me.”

The light flickers so briefly Cassian wonders if it’s a trick of his eyes. But then Nesta is there again, at full brightness. She squeezes his hand back. “Take me home. I’ll tell you all about it.”

***

a/n: i love writing stuff related to cassian’s job i’ll just be throwing random words in there and calling it business jargon

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog

[prettywordsyouleft]

The Trial Period - Part 2

Summary: When the perfect studio space comes up, you leap at the chance to take it. Except, so has Park Jinyoung, someone you have hated for the past three years. Given three months to share the space before deciding who will claim it, can you push Jinyoung out by the end of your trial period, or will you find that the tactics you both use leads to something unexpected?

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x female reader

Genre: romance / suggestive / enemies to lovers au

Warnings: (overall storyline) heavily suggestive/bordering smut content, light cursing now and then. This part: light cursing, seduction tactics and sexual tension.

A/N: This series came together from an idea I had and a prompt for Idea Starters (will be shared in part 5). Whilst I know I’ve written a lot of E2L with Jinyoung, this is a story where I pushed through my usual boundaries with mature content. I hope you enjoy it!

Word count: 2181

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

“Good morning, sugar,” Jinyoung called out into the office as he walked in, your eyes narrowing at the despised pet name before continuing with your work. You noticed movement out of the corner of your eye a moment later but trained your focus on the seam you were creating. “Didn’t you hear me, sugar?”

You continued to sew, back-tacking the seam and cutting off the thread.

Jinyoung laughed loudly. “Ohhhh, so you’re going with the ignoring approach. How fun. You always react in the end to me, though Y/N. Each and every time.”

“Is that so?”

“You just did,” he told you with a victorious smile, and you glanced up at him and smiled sweetly. Jinyoung’s pulled his head back in confusion. “Why are you smiling at me like that?”

“Hmm, peaches?”

“Pe-Peaches?!”

“I figured if I’m sugar, then you can be peaches. Isn’t that a nice exchange, my little peach?”

“There’s nothing little—honestly, you’re so patronising at times!”

“Peaches, you might want to check on your fly. You didn’t do a very good job in dressing yourself today, now did you? Poor little peach.”

Darting his focus to his unzipped pants, Jinyoung cursed loudly and dashed out of your space, leaving you to sew in peace.

One score to you.

It was an even match over the next three weeks, both infuriating the other endlessly. You had done all in your absolute power to drive the man out. From interrupting him when he was busy, to pet names, and even tripping over the cords to his setup and unplugging everything. Nothing was making Jinyoung budge.

And he was dishing it back just as much as you gave it.

“He’s formidable. I’ll give him that,” you complained to BamBam and Georgia after work, drowning your sorrows in your second glass for the night. “But I can’t let him win.”

“I was going to tell you to stop this silly game, but after hearing what he’s said to you today, I’m in full support of you annihilating his ass,” Georgia commented, reaching over to pet your hand affectionately. “Hang in there, Y/N. You’ve got this.”

“Says the person who signed a contract with him.”

“Hey! I need some photos taken to hang up around the bar. Even if I acknowledge he’s a jerk, he’s a talented one. His photography skills are no joke. If you didn’t hate each other so much, I would recommend you use him to take photos of your modelled pieces.”

“Over my dead body would I model my outfits in front of his camera lens,” you replied with a shudder, and Georgia nodded sympathetically. “I’m doomed if I can’t get rid of him soon. My project’s first stage will be closing in less than a month. I don’t want to always be hypervigilant in the workplace in case he is up to something. It’s distracting, and I’ve had to work overtime three times this week just to keep up with the schedule.”

BamBam chuckled, and you both glanced at the man. He looked between you and pointed at himself. “Oh, you’re wondering why I laughed?”

“Are my troubles that laughable?”

“Sweetheart, you are forgetting one important element to your arrangement here.”

“Which is?” Georgia inquired, leaning forward for his input.

BamBam equally moved in closer, as if he were about to divulge a potent secret. “He’s a man.”

“Is that it?” you groaned, throwing your head down on your arms across the bar’s countertop. “I know he’s a man. The most infuriating one I’ve ever met!”

“There’s something you can do that will bother him because he’s a man, Y/N.”

You glanced up at BamBam, who was grinning wickedly. “What are you suggesting?”

“He’s not blind, Y/N. He’ll have urges like the rest of us. Weaken him that way.”

“I couldn’t!” you breathed in horror when you clicked onto what the bartender was suggesting. “Bam!”

“What? Maybe he makes sense,” Georgia added on, raising her index finger to her mouth.

You looked at them both and shook your head. “I can’t flirt with him! He’s Park Jinyoung!”

“And you’re just as gorgeous, babe.”

“A solid eight for sure,” Bam insisted, and Georgia slapped him over the chest. “What? An eight is good! And if you started to fool with him, and eight could easily turn into an eleven.”

“I doubt Jinyoung could ever imagine me that way,” you dismissed the thought entirely, gulping down the end of your drink. “No way would he even budge to me throwing a seductive gaze his way.”

“How do you know? You haven’t tried it before,” Georgia pointed out, and you grew thoughtful. “Maybe try wearing something to the office tomorrow that’s not this.”

“What’s wrong with this?” you asked, looking down at your baggy overalls and tee. “I have to be comfortable to sit and sew for ten hours a day!”

“You’re a fashion queen, Y/N. Use your knowledge to your advantage and make yourself a canvas that he can’t help but look at.”

You didn’t want to admit that Georgia’s and BamBam’s advice had affected you all night long. You went through waves of laughing incredulously at the concept of using your charms to throw Jinyoung off his game and then silently deliberating if you even had enough skill to seduce the man.

You had never considered what would turn him on in the slightest.

“There’s no harm in dressing nice today, especially since I have a meeting this afternoon,” you told yourself as you slipped into a high waisted pencil skirt that accentuated your curves, and a satin deep necked camisole covered your top half. You didn’t want to look anything less than professional with your endeavours, and if anyone were to visit the studio today, they wouldn’t see anything confusing about your outfit.

It was definitely an upgrade from the oversized tops and jeans you worked in most days, though.

Jinyoung didn’t arrive on time as usual, and you were more aware of the emptiness you felt being in the studio alone. It was what you hoped for in the end, but for now, especially when you were attempting to mess with the fates today with BamBam’s plan, you waited for Jinyoung to arrive.

Two hours later, he finally appeared, speeding across the entryway without even looking in your direction. You were disappointed. It had become the norm for both of you to start at one another when in each other’s company immediately. Scolding yourself inwardly for even contemplating such a tactic, you shifted around in your seat to get comfortable. You weren’t at your sewing desk today, and your focus was on designing new pieces for a Spring collection. You continued to erase the same line of the cape you were trying to construct on your tablet, growing frustrated with your lack of concentration.

Blindly reaching out for your glass of water, you tipped it back, only to find it was empty. Scooting back your chair, you walked in a daze towards the kitchenette and opened the refrigerator, reaching in for the jug and pouring water into your glass.

“Morning, sug…” Jinyoung trailed off when you shut the refrigerator door and turned to look at him. He was frozen in his spot, his gaze unfocused.

You rolled your eyes and gave him an unimpressed nod. “Peaches.”

Rounding him, you moved back to your office space, sitting down on the stool in front of your drafting desk. Deciding to go back to your roots and use paper and pencil, you set up your supplies, noticing Jinyoung had drifted into your space, his index finger pointing loosely at you.

“What’s this?”

“Huh?”

“You’re dressed.”

“I always wear clothes to work,” you admitted with another roll of your eyes, starting to sketch on the paper. “This is the first time you look like—”

“Like what?”

“A fashion designer,” he admitted, and you glanced away from your foundation strokes, tilting your head to the side. He was doing the same thing, but his gaze was lingering far too long over your chest.

What the hell, you thought, and then a lightbulb went off in your head. Was Jinyoung actually reacting to your outfit?

Turning on your stool, you intentionally propped your arms under your bust, knowing it would enhance your cleavage. You were still modestly covered in doing so, yet you were aware of how Jinyoung swallowed slowly.

“I guess I didn’t want to blow your mind too easily,” you announced, and Jinyoung blinked several times, finally lifting his gaze away from your hips they had trailed to and up to your face.

“Blow my mind? Sure, sugar, like you could do that to me.”

“What? You’re taking a look at me for a change. I did something,” you bit back, and Jinyoung shook his head.

He didn’t look fully convinced, however.

“You like it when I show off my curves, huh?” you continued, reaching for the band on your wrist before raking your fingers through your hair, pulling it away from your neck and tying it back.

This time it was unmistakable. Jinyoung’s eyes followed your action eagerly, his ears turning red in the process.

You hadn’t even realised tying your hair back would do that to him. Nor had you believed you had it in you to tease him like this.

It was rather exciting.

Snapping out of his stare, Jinyoung chuckled and pointed at you again. “I see what you’re doing, Y/N. It’s not going to work.”

“What am I doing? I have a meeting with my investors at two today. Am I not allowed to look good for the part?”

“You’re going like that?!” he asked, pained for some reason as he looked you over again. “With nothing over top?”

“It’s warm out. I doubt I’ll need anything. I’m modestly covered.”

Jinyoung scoffed, muttering under his breath.

“What did you just say, peaches?” you oozed, twirling the end of your hair around the pencil you had picked back up. Smiling sweetly at the man, you waited for him to say something.

“Fuck,” he breathed out and then swung back around, his hurried footsteps moving away from you.

You bit your lip to suppress a well-earned giggle. You didn’t want to seem too satisfied just yet.

When you returned from your meeting, Jinyoung was coming out of his processing lab, stopping in his tracks when he noticed you.

You had let your hair down for the appointment, and as you walked towards the kitchenette to get a snack, you started to tie it back up.

Jinyoung reached out for your wrist as you passed by, jolting you away from the action and back to his side. “What the hell, Jinyoung?!”

“I could ask you the same thing, Y/N. What are you scheming right now?”

“Scheming?” you echoed, yanking free from his grip. You then went right back to tying up your hair in a loose bun. “I’m hungry and tired, Jinyoung. I want to get my food and finish work for the day.”

“So, this isn’t a scheme of yours?” He gestured to your outfit with a hard gaze. “You’re not trying to flaunt your… your—”

“My?” you prompted, looking up at him with what you hoped to be alluring eyes. “Don’t tell me it’s doing something for you.”

“No. No!”

“Then why are you so bothered?” you whispered as you leaned in towards him, hearing him gulp. “Ooh, you can’t deny it. Now, can you?”

“I didn’t imagine you’d be this sly, Y/N,” he admitted, blinking until he had regained some composure. He blatantly looked you over now, smirking as he did so.

Your eyes grew round.

“Then again, it’s a clever tactic. Why hadn’t I thought of doing the same back?” he mused, and you laughed.

“As if you could tempt me like that. You do nothing for me, Park Jinyoung.”

“Nothing?” he asked, stepping into you.

It took all your energy to not move away and hold your ground. This seemed to impress Jinyoung, his eyes bright with enjoyment. “Are you sure you feel nothing when it comes to me, sugar?”

“Contempt is something I feel strongly whenever you’re near me,” you answered, trying not to fall into his eyes.

You cursed inwardly that he was handsome in just a hoodie and jeans.

Grazing his hand down your bare arm to your elbow where he cupped it, his smile grew. “You should already know as an adult that if you play with fire, you’ll get burnt.”

“Isn’t it you who is trying to stoke your own fire right now?” you asked, brazenly reaching out to place both hands on his chest. You were delighted to feel his heartbeat moving quickly in his chest. “I don’t really wish to play with your flames, Jinyoung.”

“We’ll see how well you cope when tomorrow comes,” he told you, igniting further exhilaration within you at the idea of a challenge.

You watched as he moved around you, heading back over to his desk. Once in the kitchenette, you grinned.

Your game was truly heating up now.

_________________

Part 3

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[doodleimprovement]

CSAU :: Moonie Jericho and the Mysterious Case of the Moon-Jumper Mask - Alternate Ending

Or: “The extremely self indulgent 7 page fic were Nell gets to be more helpful and has some actual characterization” 

Yeahhhh this isn’t canon to the fic, but I wanted to write it because I can, at LAST give ya’ll Nell’s backstory for how they came to live in Subcon in the CSAU

Per usual, the “Coffee Shop AU” belongs to the ever wonderful @doodledrawsthings

Also, note: Both MJ and Nell use “they/them” pronouns, with MJ being “He/They” and Nell being “She/They” To keep things from getting too confusing, Nell will be “They” and MJ will be “He” 

Enjoy! 

--

Nell was honestly a bit surprised when MJ came to their home the morning after Halloween, sheepishly stating that the mask seemed ... stuck.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Huh.. Come on in then. I’ll get some tea going and see about helping you out, hm?”

He walked into their house, taking a moment to actually look about the place- as he didn’t get much of a chance before- and took a seat in their small living room.

The ambiance of the outside followed inside, with the walls painted chestnut brown with warm yet bright pops of color on the windowsill and the various picture frames full of people he didn’t know. The curtain over the wide window was patterned with little pumpkins, which he found cute, and hanging from a few ceiling hooks were what Clover would call “Low-maintenance” plants. The dark colors match well with the room, making it feel a bit comfier than it otherwise might.

The couch he sat on was across from an armchair, and both were colored a warm orange, with an espresso-colored coffee table. On said table were some envelopes and a copy of “Better Homes and Gardens”

Huh, he didn’t peg them as a reader of those types of magazines. Then again, Clover was the one that knew Nell, not him.

They came back with two mugs - one was purple with the “Snatcher” face on it, and the other had a little grumpy ghost on it, with “I’m spooky before my coffee” written above the drawing.

They handed him the Snatcher mug

“Can I ask where you get all of this Snatcher merch?”

“My best friend is an Etsy fiend. Despite him living all the way in Nyakoto, he ships me Snatcher merch whenever he finds something fun. He’s a real character” they chuckled.

“Huh” MJ acknowledged as Nell walked around the coffee table and sat next to him

“Do you feel the mask?”

He nodded, his hand up at the edge, right where he felt it “When I pull, it just… doesn’t move”

“Hm..” they sipped. “When you try to take it off, how does it feel?”

“Like… it’s like a thousand little… things? Pulling at my face, I think?” MJ pulled up their mug and sipped the tea.

“Like… string? Thread?”

MJ nodded. “I think that's the right word, thread”

Nell puts down the mug as MJ takes another sip. “Let me see” they scooted closer to him, and he put his mug down and turned his head.

Their hands seemed to glow green as they raised it “There we go…” They muttered, hand immediately finding the mask’s edge, and seeing what he was talking about “... Huh, the threads… well, that's the right word. They’re… criss-crossed…”

Before he could ask if they could remove them, he felt a slight burning at the edge of his face and jumped

“Ah!”

“Sorry, sorry, but, that did work… Though, it means you might be here a while” they admit “I’ll need you to stay still, okay?”

“Oh.. okay”

It was... Not Okay.

A few minutes into Nell’s attempt at getting the mask off, they let out a huff.

“You can’t keep squirming”

“I- I’m sorry” He muttered “It's just, you know, hard to stay still”

“I understand that, but I don’t want to mess this up. I’d like to see your actual eyes” They muttered.

“I know, it just.. Weird feeling” He tried to explain.

“Moon” They pressed, but sighed “... You seem still enough when I’m talking to you, need a distraction?”

“I mean, I guess…?”

Nell sighed “Hm… How about I tell you how I came to live in Subcon? That’s a long-ass story”

“Oh uh, if you’re okay with sharing!” MJ tried to be polite. He knew that even Clover wasn’t completely sure why Nell came to live in the town, she just knew that “something happened” back at the coast where they were from.

“Nah. It’s been 5 years. That’s more than long enough” The nurse stayed focused on the magic threads, their magic seeming to thrum in his ears- sounding almost like the hum of a fan in the dead heat of summer..

There was a pause, before they took in a breath.

“When I was 19, I took a job in Nyakoto, and left my hometown as fast as the train could take me. I had a scholarship to a little nursing school there, and before my 21st birthday, I’d gotten a nice, decent paying job as an ER nurse for a hospital in the East Side” They started “The hospitals were all interconnected, so I ended up meeting different doctors and nurses while I worked, and sometimes was called to assist in other hospitals.

“I was.. 25, when I met him” They recalled, something in their voice seeming heavy. “We’ll call him Chris

“He was in residency at a hospital down in the Wesservale neighborhood. We met at a medical appreciation gala… He had something about him I couldn't place. . . A charisma, almost. A kindness. He seemed so eager for the future, so excited for what the next day might bring him. I’d never been like that. His optimism drew me in.

“We started dating the year after. Like with most relationships, everything seemed great. He was funny, kind, thoughtful, all of that stuff. He even went with me to pride stuff, which was pretty cool at the time.”

“Pride?” MJ chimed in. Nell couldn’t hide a chuckle.

“Yes. You’ve heard of the Nyakoto Annual Pride Bonanza, haven’t you? One of the biggest in the country”

“I have, yes”

“Good. Back to the story” Nell redirected “When I was 27, about a year and a half into the relationship, I realized, quite unhappily, that we weren’t actually very different, and didn’t really get along as well as we thought.. It's not that we argued, but.. We didn’t really… talk. I never spoke to him about my problems, I didn’t feel like I could, and that really made me realize that we weren’t actually all that comfortable around each other. So, when he came over to my place that night for dinner, I spoke to him, and tried to tell him that we weren’t compatible, and that I thought perhaps we’d be better off as friends.

“He convinced me that we just needed work, going on and on about all these plans he had for us. Trips, dates, things to look forward to, always looking toward the future, Chris did”

Nell paused again

“.. I really should have noticed how little he cared about happiness in the present.” They commented “Not a traditional red flag, but it was a warning nonetheless”

“Well, I mean, that’s not so bad”

“In a way, no” Nell replied “But when you think about the future so much, you forget the present, you forget to live, and your past just.. Ends up a horrible haze. Even the happy stuff is hard to recall”

MJ hadn’t thought of it like that

“But hindsight is 2020, and in the moment, I believed him. I wanted to believe those bright dreams of the future, and I let go of the fact that I did not even like to talk to him very much.

“... I tried to break up with him 4 more times in the 8 years we were together.”

Okay, MJ hadn’t been expecting that much time passing.

“By the time I was 34, we were living together, but barely seeing each other. From the outside it must have seemed perfect to everyone else. I think only Daph knew about my.. Issues, with Chris. I still never talked to him about anything that wasn’t the future, or how the day was, or.. Just, absolute nonsense.

“One night, after one more attempt to break up, I’d gone to bed defeated, and woke up at 3 in the morning while he was on the night shift in Wesservale.. I came to this… realization

“If I didn’t leave right then and there, I’d marry him…. and I’d …. I’d be stuck. He’d have me, and I’d be stuck for the rest of my life..

“So I grabbed everything I had in the apartment, sent a resignation email to the East side hospital I still worked at, left him a note telling him I was leaving, took my car and just… started driving”

“.. Did he call you?”

“I blocked his number.” They answered curtly. “Drove for days until I came across Subcon.”

MJ didn’t comment.

“I stayed at the Alpine Motel for a few nights, and when I was at the diner, overheard that there was an open position for the school nurse at the elementary” They continued. “I applied for it, and 3 months later cashed in my savings to put a down payment on this little place” They made a motion with their hand briefly “The rest is history”

“Well… If it's any consolation, I think that's a good reason to get out of the city”

Nell couldn’t hold back a laugh. There was something a little… sad, in it, but the laugh was genuine.

“Yeah, then again, every reason is a good one to get out of the city” They commented, and MJ had only just realized that their hands were now on the other side of his face. Nell worked quickly, it seemed. “Hm.. okay. On the count of three, I'm going to try to take it off, alright?”

“Oh, uh, wow, okay!” He replied eagerly, closing his eyes.

“One…” They slowly started, both hands on either side, their nails right at the edge of the mask.

“Three!”

MJ startled as Nell pulled, and a cold, sharp feeling spread over his body before it abruptly ended. When he opened his eyes. He looked at Nell, who had, in their hands, that damned mask.

His hands went up to his face, and he let out a relieved laugh as he felt his skin, glasses and hair “hah! Hahah! I’m human again! No more magic!” He raised his hands and leaned back on the couch “Sweet relief”

Nell let out a chuckle, putting the mask down gently “Finish your tea, I’m gonna grab you a damp towel. You have… paint? On your face”

His brow was furrowed, but he reached for the still-warm mug anyway as Nell got up and went down a short hallway.

He took the few moments that Nell was done to think over the story he’d been told, the exhaustion in the nurse’s voice as she told it. Was he really the first one to learn? It gave him a weird feeling right in his chest.

When Nell returned, she offered a small, damp towel… that had the “Snatcher” smile on it

“... How many of these do you have?” He almost laughed again, and they just answered with an amused smile and grabbed their own coffee cup.

MJ cleaned his face, seeing a candy-red color coming off on the purple towel. “Hm..”

“What?”

“Well uh, the color looks like the magic strings I was able to summon”

Nell Blinked “... Well uh, bring that up with Tim when he’s back in town. That’s a little out of my wheelhouse”

“Noted”

The two fell into silence, sipping their warm drinks and giving them some time to unwind

“Will you need a ride home?” they asked him, putting their mug down.

He hadn’t actually thought of that.

“Oh, uh, it’s fine”

They raised an eyebrow at him

“You live 20 minutes away and Luka isn’t here to … fly you home, per se” They laid out “I’ve got a car, I’ll drive you home”

He turned a little red to the ears “Oh.. Thank you”

“No problem, Moon” They smiled back at him. “I’m going to change real quick, then we’ll leave”

And with that, they left back into the short hallway, to what Moon assumed was their bedroom.

Nell returned a few minutes later, dressed in a loose blouse and skirt that went down to their ankles, a far cry from the tank top and sweatpants that he’d seen them in before. He supposed that it was more so not wanting to go out in Pajamas than anything else. She picked up the mask, wrapping it in a handkerchief before holding it out to him

“It’s chosen you. You have to keep it”

He just nodded, and gingerly took the troublesome thing into his hands.

The two got in their truck (Nell owned a truck??) and drove into town.

MJ took in a breath as they turned onto a main street, passing The Horizon. “So uh, Nell..”

“Hm?”

“About your uh, the story you told me.. I won’t tell anyone”

“I don’t mind if you do” they answered, eyes on the road

“What, really?”

“Like I said before. Five years feels long enough”

MJ’s brow furrowed “I’m still not going to say anything.. That’s a personal story. It’s not mine to tell”

Nell glanced over at him with an unreadable expression, before moving to turn on the radio. Lo-fi started, and it seemed they were right in the middle of a Billie Eilish song.

“.. Thank you” They ended up responding as the song picked up

”I know supposedly I'm lonely now.

Know I’m supposed to be unhappy without someone.

But aren’t I someone?” 

MJ didn’t say much of anything else once until they got to his apartment building

“Thank you, Nell. For everything”

“Don’t mention it” They gave him a small, but sincere smile “Get some rest, hm? The bags under your eyes are aging you”

MJ just laughed “I will. Don’t be a stranger, Mx. Buonacci”

The nurse gave him a lazy salute with a soft smile, before the window rolled up, and they drove off

Exhaling, he looked down at the covered mask, wrapped in a…. Snatcher-patterned handkerchief.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

[frecklesandstardust]

Let’s Talk About Klaus

Hi, friends. The Umbrella Academy’s second season came out recently. I finished it about twelve hours after. And I have feelings. We need to talk about Klaus. 

Now, here is my disclaimer. From the very first moment I saw him, Klaus was my favorite, but please read to the end before yelling about how Klaus-stans refuse to see his negative qualities. Thank you <3 (Also, this will involve spoilers for Season 2 and probably be an essay, so be prepared.)

Okay, first of all. Let’s look at Season 1 Klaus. 

He’s an asshole. Just like all of his siblings. They were raised by a narcissistic egomaniac and given hero complexes from pretty much the second they were born. Obviously they all lack empathy and healthy coping mechanisms. We can all agree on that. 

However, Klaus is also kind. So unbelievably kind. He makes crass jokes and looks out for himself first, but he is also so caring. 

When we first see him, he is encouraging people in rehab. He has a rapport with the EMT who brings him back to life. He hugs Allison as soon as he sees her at the mansion and seems genuinely concerned about her and her life. When the giant portal opens, he grabs a fire extinguisher and runs to the front to try and protect his siblings. Siblings who essentially ignored and belittled him for years. 

Fast forward and we see him helping Diego and Five and Luther. We see him caring, sincerely caring about his siblings. He breaks a snowglobe over his head to help Five get the answers he needs. He follows Luther to a rave and dies trying to save his life, even though he’s riddled with PTSD and freshly sober. We see him try so fucking hard to not give out any information about Five when he’s being literally tortured by assassins. He saves Diego from Hazel and Cha-Cha at the hotel, even though he could have stayed safe in the car. He risked his life to save a brother who didn’t even notice he had been kidnapped. 

We watch him die. We watch him get locked in a museum by his father figure and tortured by his abilities. We watch him be traumatized over and over again by ghosts that look just as gruesome as the day they died. We watch him be hurt and kidnapped. We watch him get thrust into a literal war, where he lost his soulmate after staying and fighting for ten months because he was just that in love with Dave. 

Out of every character, Klaus clearly has the most trauma. This isn't even including the fact that he was homeless for years and alluded to non-consensual sexual situations. Ergo, trading sex for a place to sleep and things like that. I am personally of the belief that Reggie was the reason Klaus broke his jaw, which Diego talks about in S1, but that’s my own opinion. 

Looking at all of that, Klaus has PTSD out the whazoo. Like, he is filled to the brim with trauma and no one cares enough to ask or help him. Five sees him after Dave dies and only cares about the briefcase. Diego hears that he lost someone and has the absolute audacity to call Klaus “lucky” because at least he can see them whenever he wants. Not one of his siblings understands Klaus’s powers and that’s terrifying because he had to deal with screaming, tormented ghosts completely by himself. Imagine that. Powers that you can’t control eating you alive and the only thing that helps dim the noise is drugs. 

And your family doesn’t care enough to ask. They just write you off as a useless junkie. 

Now, like I mentioned earlier, Klaus is not an innocent quote unquote soft boi. He is inherently selfish. But, he had to be. He had to be selfish in order to survive. He was on the streets. Alone. If he wasn’t selfish, he would have been dead ten times over. 

He stole things. He lied. He hurt people. He was an asshole. Just like they all were. 

But he was never cruel. 

His relationship with Ben in the first season was pretty awesome. We get to see the snark and the familiarity and the bond between them. And it makes sense, to some extent, why Ben is constantly trying to get Klaus to be better. If Klaus hasn’t seen his siblings for years, neither has Ben. I genuinely think Ben wanted to believe that they had changed. He wanted his siblings to be good, decent people. 

That’s why he told Klaus to go after Luther. Why he told him that his family would notice he was missing when he get kidnapped by Cha-Cha and Hazel. 

But it does not excuse the fact that Ben never apologized. He was wrong and he never said sorry for it. He inadvertently got Klaus killed and he never admitted that he made a mistake. 

He was there for so much of Klaus’s trauma and he just brushed it off. We never see Ben try to be there for Klaus or try to help him come to terms with everything. Ben can see the other ghosts. He knows that they’re terrifying and that Klaus’s powers are completely haywire. Why doesn’t he acknowledge that? 

Let’s move on to Season 2. 

For some reason, all of Klaus’s character development has been tossed out the window. He is a wildcard with no plot line to follow. He says random things and seems to act as comedic relief for the most part, except it rarely works.

For starters, his powers are completely gone, for the most part. We see him in a brief opening scene absolutely kicking ass with his ghost army. But, after that, we don’t see any ghost except Ben. We don’t see him learning to control his powers or talking to ghosts. We don’t even hear about his powers. It’s like they’ve been erased. 

That kind of trauma doesn’t go away. Especially when we find out he has been sober for three years. 

I’ve seen some people argue that he traded addictions. Swapped the drugs for the cult and the adoration that came with it. I don’t agree to that for a few reasons. 

First, he is very clearly uncomfortable with the cult touching him. And we see in the flashback that it happened completely by accident. Klaus was, again, trying to survive. Was it selfish? Yeah. Did he use that old woman to shamelessly find a place in a world he’s not supposed to exist in? Yeah! But, like I stated earlier, Klaus knows how to survive. He knows what to do to get by. All he is doing is trying to survive. Ben can scream all he wants about fairness, but he wasn’t offering up any options to get Klaus a place to sleep and a way to survive in the past. 

Second, we don’t know how the cult came about exactly. We don’t know what started it. We don’t know how it spiraled from whatever it started as into a cult. And Klaus hates it. He spends the entire season trying to get away from everyone. He used it as a means to survive and then wanted space. His entire plan was to get to 1963 and save Dave--probably from the start of 1960, to be honest. But to get to Dave, he had to survive. He had to get to a place where saving Dave was possible. He can’t save him if he’s dead or homeless. 

Third, Klaus very openly is touch-starved and desperate for attention. He spent his childhood being overlooked and his adulthood being treated like a disease. He just wants someone to take him seriously and care about him. The cult does. They love him for who he is, for his weird humor and mannerisms. They believe him when he talks. He’s never had that before, not since Dave. 

He finally has a group of people that genuinely care about what he has to say. Even if it’s all bullshit! They still listen to him. So, of course he sticks around. Of course he lets it grow. He thinks everyone he loves is dead! He’s holding onto the only thing he can. It just happens to be a cult. 

Next point: Ben. 

Ooh boy, this is gonna be a long one.

Ben is also not a soft boi. One tender scene with Vanya does not undo an entire season of cruelty and callousness. 

Before we get into that, let’s talk about the point everyone brings up: Klaus didn’t tell anyone Ben was there! 

Why should he? They never believed him the first thousand times he tried to tell them. What makes it any different fifty years in the past? 

But aside from that, I have two theories. 

One, I’m curious as to if he was subconsciously trying to punish Ben. Ben essentially got him killed at the rave with Luther. He also never apologized, as I mentioned earlier. He blows Klaus off, just like the rest of his siblings, even though, out of anyone, Ben should know better. From the very beginning of S2, Ben is saying some pretty nasty stuff to Klaus. Low blows that shouldn’t be brought up. If that’s been happening for 3+ years, it’s possible that Klaus internally is punishing Ben for being just like the others. 

Second, he’s scared of losing Ben. It’s been 17 years of only having Ben by his side. Constantly. And we know Klaus has watched the love of his life bleed out right in front of him. That’s PTSD. And PTSD doesn’t exactly involve healthy coping methods. So, it’s entirely possible that Klaus doesn’t saying anything about Ben being there because he is scared to lose him to his siblings. If Ben is corporeal, if they know Ben is there, what’s stopping Ben from leaving to go spend all his time with someone else? Someone that isn’t Klaus? Klaus could be trying to protect himself from losing another person. 

Does that make it okay for Klaus to hide the fact that Ben is there? No. But does it kind of make sense? Yeah. Ben deserved to reconnect with his family, but Klaus is traumatized beyond belief and clearly isn’t in the right state to make sound and logical decisions all the time. If we can forgive Five for murdering the Commission Board in cold blood and Vanya for blowing up the world twice, we can forgive Klaus for keeping Ben’s existence to himself (especially since he tried to tell them in S1 and was immediately written off as an attention whore.)

Now, let’s talk about the possession, aka my least favorite thing about the entire season. 

Ben possessing Klaus is assault. End of story. Non-negotiable. It’s not funny. It’s not cute. It’s not “payback.” It’s assault. 

We know that Klaus is terrified by his powers. We know that he has trauma in his past, involving non-consensual experiences. So does Ben. Worse, Ben was there for a lot of it. 

Ben flat out ignored Klaus’s discomfort for his own selfish gain. He was so hellbent on possessing Klaus that he ignored the fact that Klaus was terrified to go to sleep because he knew Ben would possess him without consent. 

And let’s acknowledge the fact that Klaus doesn’t owe Ben anything. He has no obligation to let himself be possessed. Ben is dead. And that’s horrible. It’s unfair and Ben did not deserve to die. But he. is. dead. The dead do not get free access to the bodies of the living just because they want to feel things again. 

Ben completely disregarded Klaus’s feelings because he had a crush on a girl who didn’t even know he existed. Klaus, who willingly accepted possession the second he realized it was important to Ben. Klaus, who laid out strict ground rules, showing he was clearly terrified of the idea, but still did it anyway because he loves his brother and harbors guilt for conjuring him the day of Ben’s funeral. Klaus, who had just been brushed off after failing to stop Dave from enlisting.

Ben possesses him and almost immediately starts to make out with a girl who thinks he is Klaus. That is sexual assault. If I have a twin sister and that twin sister sleeps with my husband, who believes she is me, then she has raped him. That is rape. 

Ben doing anything physical with that girl, who clearly showed that she was interested in Klaus, is sexual assault. She did not consent to sleep with Ben. She consented to sleep with Klaus, who was trying his best to break the possession and stop the entire thing from happening. 

And Ben fought him on it. We see them struggle in Klaus’s body for the next several minutes. Ben doesn’t care that Klaus is clearly uncomfortable, that Klaus wants him out. He selfishly wants to stay in control because of his own desires. He ignores Klaus’s rules and does what he wants without considering the consequences. 

This is the third time that Ben has used possession to control Klaus. We see it when they are fighting earlier in the season at the cult mansion. We see it again at the dinner with Reginald. We see Klaus essentially have a seizure (and we see none of his family members ask if he is okay. They just roll their eyes.) We see Klaus literally vomit once he forces Ben out of him in that alley with Five and Luther. Still, no one asks if he is okay. 

Worse than that, Ben says that he no regrets. And then reiterates the statement! Ben assaulted his brother and does not give a flying fuck. That’s crueler than anything Klaus has ever done. I would argue that it’s the cruelest thing any of the Hargreeves have done, to be honest. 

It doesn’t matter how much of an asshole Klaus is or how selfish or how flamboyant. His consent still matters. His boundaries are just as important. 

Overall, this season just gave Klaus more trauma while still leaving his PTSD and mental illness completely unaddressed. They essentially removed his powers and took away his bond with Ben. Like, in the first season, Ben is almost always with Klaus. That is Klaus’s power, after all. In the second season, Klaus’s entire arc is without Ben. All of his missions are without Ben present. 

There is absolutely no fucking way that Klaus wouldn't bring Ben with him to get tacos with Vanya and Allison. He loves Ben, more than anyone. We see that constantly in the first season, outside of a few mishaps. 

I love Ben. I genuinely love Ben and his story in the first season. But in S2, they took him and twisted him into a callous thing with no respect for consent or his brother. If those three years with Klaus in 1960 were anywhere near as bad as what we see in 1963, I can see why Klaus wouldn’t want Ben around his family. 

I was supposed to love Ben and cry for him. And don’t get me wrong, I did. I cried a lot in the last episode. But that scene with Vanya? Where he tells her she’s not a monster and that they should have done better and that they could help her control her powers? That’s the exact same damn speech he should have told Klaus. Vanya’s destruction was always outward. It always cost millions of people their lives. Klaus’s was inward. So why does Vanya deserve the help and love and support while Klaus gets tossed aside?

They both needed a family and only one of them got it this season. Sure, Allison and Klaus had some great scenes together. But she didn’t ask if he was okay when Ben possessed him at dinner. She didn’t check on him. 

Klaus deserved better. He deserved to work through is trauma and to have a family that takes care of him and supports him and helps him figure out how to deal with the ghosts. He deserved to control his own body and to say no when Ben wanted to possess him. He deserved a goddamn hug. 

Klaus was inherently selfish. However, he also gave up everything. He sacrificed his entire relationship with Dave to try and save his life. If he had succeeded, if Dave had never enlisted, they never would have met. They never would have fallen in love. Dave would never remember being with him. He nearly gave that up to protect the love of his life. 

Klaus is not perfect. He’s an asshole at best sometimes. But he’s also kind and compassionate and loves harder than every other character on that show. He deserved better. 

This has turned into a massive essay, but the bottom line is that S2 let Klaus and Ben down. So many things were handled poorly--from consent to mental illness. It could have been great. It could have been an opportunity to fix a lot of the mistakes made in the first season. Ben and Klaus could have talked everything out and figured out the ghosts and the war and the trauma together. They were never given that chance. 

There were so many good parts of this season, but the bad parts were so bad that it tainted the rest. I know the writers could have done better. They did it with Luther and Allison! They made their characters great this season and showcased some amazing relationships between the siblings. I’m confused as to how they let Klaus and Ben fall through the cracks so heavily. 

[inkedstarlight]

Bittersweet: Chapter Twelve

Summary: With the New Year comes new changes: Azriel and Elain are now together, Nesta and Cassian have a moment, and someone new enters the mix. Notes: This was the longest I've gone without posting new content, but I'm back in the groove. I'm officially making Sundays my upload day, so look out for that! There will be a new chapter every week. I already have the next couple chapters written, and it will be a lot more consistent now. Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief mentions of PTSD and sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

January

It was the third week of the desolate, grey month of January. The snow arrived quickly and ruthlessly. The city of Boulder was coated in a thick layer of knee-deep snow, its surface glittering under the sun enough to blind a passerby. Nesta embraced the winter, but there was nothing more she hated than a frozen ground paired with a sunny sky. Going outside bundled in multiple layers only to return home a sweaty mess. It was a suffocating feeling, to be wearing a heavy coat under sunshine.

No, Nesta preferred the unforgiving version of the coldest season. She knew how to dress; she knew what to expect when she stepped outside. It was predictable. Easy.

With the New Year came new changes. To start, Elain and Azriel were now dating, which came as a surprise to no one. When Elain sidled up next to Nesta in the kitchen on New Year’s Day and bashfully told her that she and Azriel were officially together, Nesta just levelled her a look as if to say, No shit, Sherlock.

As much as she despised the fact that their lives were becoming inextricably connected with Feyre's little group, however, Nesta was happy for her sister. Azriel treated Elain like she walked on water. of course, in Nesta's mind, no one would ever be good enough for her sister. Azriel was just managing to wiggle his way over Nesta's impossibly high standards for Elain, the bastard.

He had been spending time at their apartment quite a bit. At first, he and Nesta didn’t speak much. They would both stare at their phones in silence when Elain went to the bathroom or checked on whatever was in the oven at the time.

It wasn’t until the day that Nesta returned home from work to see Azriel playing with Minx in the living room did they 'bond.' When Nesta made her way into the apartment, Azriel explained to her that Elain was switching over the laundry in the complex’s basement. She merely nodded, her piercing stare falling to Azriel's ankles where Minx was rubbing against. She could hear his purrs from where she stood. The fucking traitor.

Nesta watched them play before they began to talk about animals, which turned into shitting on Cassian (Azriel was most certainly joking, but Nesta’s jabs were 100% genuine), which then turned into complaining about the frequency of their little family dinners. Turns out Azriel isn't exactly a social butterfly but Nesta figured that out pretty quickly. When Elain returned with laundry basket in hand, she found Nesta showing off the tricks she’d taught Minx to Azriel, the latter of whom was quite impressed. And that’s how Nesta realized that she and Azriel had more in common than she would've guessed. They both preferred to be in the background, not drawing too much attention to themselves. To Nesta's delight, she also realized Azriel had just as sharp a tongue as she did. The only difference was he knew how to control himself. Although Nesta would never admit it, she could learn a thing or two from Azriel.

But all this was heavily dampened by the fact that Cassian kept worming his way into her life. She supposed it was normal to run into your neighbors, but she had a sneaking suspicion the man somehow memorized her entire schedule. Wherever she turned, he seemed to be there. The elevator was like their rendezvous spot. Nesta was tempted to take the staircase just to avoid him, but her stubborn ass refused to change a thing for him. Even if it was just two flights of stairs.

Cassian had caught her several times in the past weeks. She thought back to a few run-ins that she hadn’t managed to stop thinking about.  

“It’s full,” Nesta said dryly, not bothering to look up from her phone. She knew who it was. Who else would go out of their way to enjoy her warm and welcoming presence?

Nesta was just getting back from a short shift she'd picked up at Rita’s. The elevator doors had been closing when Cassian’s foot shot out to stop them.

Cassian looked around at the empty elevator, his eyes finally landing on Nesta. “I think I can squeeze in.”

Nesta looked up from her phone to glare at him. He was wearing a maroon crew neck and medium wash jeans that were rolled up at the ankles. She spied a golden chain around his neck that just slightly peaked out of the sweater. She wondered if it was a cross. Was he religious?

Nesta caught herself before she could think more about it. She didn’t care; she had no interest in getting to know this man. And she knew the feeling was mutual.

She just cleared her throat and looked down at her phone once again, determined to ignore his presence.

Unfortunately, Cassian was just as determined to make his presence known.

Eyes glued to her screen, Nesta did her best to stay as still as possible as she felt Cassian walk into the elevator. She was standing at the back corner, practically a part of the wall herself. Instead of stopping where there was plenty of room, however, he kept walking until he was right next to her. He leaned back against the wall, and Nesta caught a whiff of his cologne. It was warm and fresh and purely male.

She clenched her fist. He smelled good.

She hated that he smelled good.

"Calculating something?" he asked quietly. Nesta detected the amusement in his voice and restrained herself from putting him in a chokehold.

But she followed his gaze that was looking at her phone screen. Brows furrowed, she too looked at the screen.

Fuck.

Nesta hadn't even realized she'd been staring at the calculator app this entire time. When Cassian had gotten into the elevator, she'd opened a random app, a last-ditch attempt at looking busy so he wouldn’t bother her. That plan had clearly failed.

And with her shit luck, she opened the fucking calculator app.

"Yep," she cleared her throat again, scrambling for something to say. "Just figuring out how much it would cost to hire a bodyguard. You see, I have this stalker -"

"Is he handsome?" Cassian feigned ignorance, his lips twitching upward.

Nesta gritted her teeth at his interruption. "No, he's actually - "

"Charming, rugged, good-looking?" Cassian ran his eyes up and down her body and whistled in astonishment. "Wow, you must really like this guy."

She was going to punch him in the gods-damn throat. “You’re an asshole.”

He just stood there smiling at himself, eyes sparkling with mischief. His dark hair was loose, falling at his shoulders. It looked as though he’d been running his hands through it all day. Nesta’s fingers twitched.

She could acknowledge that Cassian was a good-looking man. She wasn't blind, though she would never admit that to him. His head was big enough as is. That being said, there was no appeal beyond his thick hair and fit body. It was a shame, really. Not to mention that Nesta was unable to look at a man with anything other than cynicism after everything that happened with Tomas.

Nesta stopped herself. She didn't need to think about that right now.

Coming back to reality, Nesta realized she'd been blatantly staring at Cassian this entire time, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. He chuckled deeply and angled his body so he was fully facing her. “See something you like, sweetheart?”

Nesta crossed her arms and snorted. Classy.

“Unfortunately for you, my appetite for arrogant meatheads dissipated during college.”

“Oh?” Cassian repeated with a smirk that Nesta wanted to slap right off. “And pray tell, what’s on your menu now?”

“Just the sweet satisfaction of destroying a man’s masculinity.”

Cassian stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back with laughter. Nesta rolled her eyes just as the elevator dinged. She took the opportunity and quickly raced for the doors.

He was still laughing when the doors closed.

Nesta inwardly groaned at the memory. She’d acted like a dolt, but at least she’d gotten the last word in.

The next time they bumped into each other, however, things weren’t quite as playful.  

Nesta couldn’t sleep. She’d been tossing and turning for hours, Minx shooting her glares every time she moved. But sleep refused to come.

With a frustrated groan, she rolled to the side of the bed and checked her phone that was charging on her nightstand.

3:38am.

Fucking ridiculous.

Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a good night’s sleep. She’d been having nightmares nearly every night for the past few weeks, only managing to get about four hours of sleep at most. It was enough that she could function during the day and go to work without passing out. Nevertheless, it was exhausting.

She did her best to untangle herself from the comforter and get up without waking Minx. He was sleeping at the foot of the bed, his entire body stretched out like dough. As she got up, she gave him some love. He didn’t even budge; he was a heavy sleeper.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Rubbing her face, she padded out to the kitchen slowly and poured herself a glass of water. She drank it slowly as she leaned against the counter.

After fifteen of staring into space, Nesta made her way to the fridge and opened it, the soft light glowing on her face.

She stared into the fridge for another ten minutes.

With a resigned sigh, Nesta slowly padded back to her room and closed the door behind her. She lazily pulled her long hair into a messy updo. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her laundry bin. It was overflowing.

She checked the time again. 4:17am.

Fuck it, she thought to herself as she bent down to pick up the laundry basket.

Nesta heaved it into her arms, grabbed the detergent, and made her way down to the complex’s basement where the laundry room was. She was wearing a grey sweater that completely swallowed her body and baggy sweatpants. Her slippers were cat themed. She couldn't care less.

After dumping her dirty clothes into the washing machine and starting it, Nesta sat on top of the empty machine to the left of it. She crossed her legs in her lap and put her hands in her face.

Gods, when was this going to end?

She would almost prefer a nightmare over this. It was the silence that was insufferable. With nightmares, she woke up, stayed awake for a couple hours, and finally fell asleep once her body calmed. But this? She didn’t trust herself to be alone with her thoughts for the entire night. It was never a good thing.

She was just sick of it. The exhaustion, the darkness, the loneliness. Her father’s death still gnawed at her every day. She hadn’t summoned the bravery to read those damn journals. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t know if she’d ever be.

And then Tomas. That horrible memory still surfaced several times a day. She couldn’t shake it; she never felt safe, even when she was in her bedroom. She hated it. Hated the lack of control, the loss of strength. She felt powerless. And without that, what did she even have?

The sound of footsteps disrupted her from her thoughts. Her head shot up as a body filled the doorway to the laundry room. It was Cassian.

He, too, looked like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He looked comfortable in his Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and dark joggers. In his hand was a dryer sheet.

He stared at her. She stared back.

Neither of them said anything as he walked over to the washing machine to the right of the one her clothes were in. Nesta watched with half-lidded eyes as Cassian switched over his load of laundry to the dryer, swiping his card to pay for the cycle.

Once his clothes were tumbling around in the dryer, he straightened and faced her where she sat.

Nesta couldn't put her finger on it, but he seemed different. Not because it was the middle of the night and he was tired. No, there was something else. She just didn't know what.

“Can’t sleep?” he broke the silence, voice rough with exhaustion.

Nesta pursed her lips and nodded, looking away. She expelled a shaky breath. “You?”

Cassian seemed slightly taken aback by her question, but he hid it well. He took a few steps closer. There were still a couple feet between them, but now he was standing in front of her with his hands in his pockets.

“Me neither," he murmured, his hazel eyes capturing her grey ones. "Sometimes I don't even bother trying anymore."

They both got quiet. Nesta didn’t know what to say; his vulnerability scared her.

It was strange. To have a conversation with Cassian without banter, without insults being thrown back and forth. Nesta didn’t know what to think of it.

"I could be deported any day," he admitted, so quietly that Nesta almost didn't hear. Then he added, his voice breaking slightly, "I don't want to go."

Nesta watched him as he looked to the dirty tiles of the laundry room floor. Her lips parted slightly and before she realized what she was doing, she was talking.

"I have nightmares every night. Today was the first time in two months I haven't had one. A strange part of me would rather have horrible dreams instead of this silence... and that scares me."

Cassian was staring at her now, his eyes flaring. He looked like he wanted to move closer, but he remained where he stood. He simply nodded at the piece of herself she'd just shared with him.

I see you, is what he seemed to wordlessly say to her.

A strange feeling of deja vu washed over Nesta as they looked at each other. She couldn't place it, but this - talking with Cassian - felt familiar, like it had happened -

The washing machine next to Nesta dinged, signaling that her clothes had finished. She pulled her gaze from Cassian's and hopped off to switch her clothes over.

Cassian merely watched. Then, they both waited in a comfortable silence until their laundry finished drying. Cassian's finished first, but he waited until Nesta's did to walk her back up. They didn't share a word, but something intangible transpired between them.

And even though Nesta still wasn't able to fall asleep, the silence felt a bit less scary the rest of the night.

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

“Are you excited for the semester to start next week?”

Nesta froze from where she stood washing the dishes when Elain posed the question.

Next week? That couldn’t be right. Nesta counted off the days in her head.

To her horror, Elain was correct.

It was nearing the end of January. She knew she’d had to return to Pryth U after winter break, but Nesta thought she’d have longer. Longer to get over what had happened, to figure out how exactly to avoid him on campus. She thought by now… she thought she wouldn’t be scared anymore.

She was wrong.

“Nesta?”

Nesta peeled her eyes away from the soapy knife that she was clutching tightly in her hand to find Elain peering over at her with a concerned look.

“Yeah,” Nesta forced out, despite every fiber of her body screaming otherwise. “Can’t wait.”

She continued throughout the morning as normal as she could be, even though she was shaking. When noon hit, Nesta called out to Elain who was lounging in the living room waiting for Azriel to come over.

"I'm think I’m going to go to the gym." She willed her voice not to shake.

"Okay, have fun!" Elain exclaimed from the other room.

Nesta had purchased a gym membership to Illyria last week, a pathetic effort at getting out of the apartment more often. She hadn't gone once yet. And either way, her only real plan was to use the hot tub. She couldn't remember the last time she exercised, and she had no intention of changing that.

After getting dressed and grabbing her bag, Nesta headed out.

The drive was quick; the gym was only a couple miles away. Once Nesta parked, she made her way inside the complex.

She forced a tight smile as she approached the woman who was working the front desk, scanning her membership card and continuing forward. Her mind was racing, and she prayed that there wouldn't be many people there. It was a Tuesday afternoon. She doubted it.

Nesta was weaving her way past the space dedicated to boxing to get to the locker rooms when she heard a familiar voice ahead of her.

She instinctively turned her head to see who it was, only to find Cassian standing next to a punching bag, his face breaking out into a grin as he talked to a very beautiful woman.

She was small, several inches shorter than Nesta. Her copper chestnut hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail, and her hands were on her hips as she attentively listened to Cassian speak. She seemed captivated by whatever he was saying, probably some bullshit meant to charm her.

Nesta didn't think twice as she discreetly did a 180 and started walking the opposite way, desperate to avoid him especially after the night in the laundry room. That'd been the last time she'd seen him, and she didn't want to talk about it. Not with him or anyone else. Even though she'd opened up to him, that didn't mean they were friendly. In fact, it was the complete opposite. She was determined to keep him at arm's length now. Nesta had cursed herself the morning after those events had transpired. She was so stupid to tell him what she did. It was just because she had been severely sleep-deprived, and she had felt bad for him. It wouldn't happen again.

So, she slowly slinked away, praying to the Gods that he didn't notice her.

Her plan was going smoothly until she heard her name.

"Nesta?"

Her shoulders stiffened. Fuck.

She brought herself to a painstaking stop and turned around to see Cassian jogging over to her.

"Hey," he greeted as he approached. He seemed cautious, like he didn't want to scare her off. "I didn't realize you went to Illyria."

"I don't," Nesta replied quickly. He waited for her to say more, but she just blinked up at him.

"Well," he drawled, looking back at the woman he had been talking with. "I'm just about to start a training session." Ah, he works here. She wondered what he did in his free time. "Do you want to join? The first session is free."

Nesta looked to where the woman was methodically wrapping her hands in what looked like Ace bandages. She was more stunning than Nesta originally thought. She wouldn't be at all surprised if Cassian hooked up with his trainees. Especially if they looked like that.

"No, I'm - "

But Cassian wasn't having it. "Gwyn!" he called out, gesturing her to come to where they stood.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nesta hissed, her heart rate spiking as she watched the woman, Gwyn, make her way toward them.

Cassian ignored her, continuing to smile. The bastard.

As Gwyn made her way over, Nesta did her best to put on a friendly face. She was pretty sure she was just grimacing.

"Hi! I'm Gwyn," she introduced herself with a bubbly voice. She looked Nesta up and down. "You must be Nesta. I've heard a lot about you."

Nesta threw Cassian a sideway glare. He'd been talking about her? No doubt complaining about her horrible attitude.

Cassian winked at the look she gave him before turning to Gwyn. "Gwyn, why don't you tell Nesta a little bit about what we do while I go get some equipment from the back? Then we can get started."

Nesta opened her mouth to object, but Cassian was gone before she could even blink. Groaning inwardly, she reluctantly faced Gwyn who was smiling softly at her.

"Well, I assume you know that Cassian is a trainer," she started with an awkward laugh.

Nesta stared at her.

Gwyn continued to smile despite Nesta's coldness. "He actually created this program, Wings of Resilience, a couple years ago. He offers discounted training lessons for people who deal with PTSD. It's helped a lot of people. Cassian mainly teaches kickboxing, but in the past he's taken in some older veterans who aren't really able to do high cardio activities, so he guides them through yoga practices.  Everyone here adores him," Gwyn giggles and leans in. "Especially the older ladies who come in every week for their exercise class."

She kept talking, but Nesta was no longer listening. The room suddenly felt tiny, the air stifling. What Gwyn told her triggered her fight or flight instincts. She didn’t know why, she just knew she couldn’t breathe, and if she didn’t leave now, she was going to have a full-blown panic attack in the middle of a room full of people.

“Are you okay?”

Nesta’s eyes shot up from her shaking hands to see Gwyn take a cautious step forward, her eyes wide with something that resembled concern. Nesta nearly let out a hysterical laugh. Gwyn and Cassian - they were such good people. How did they even pretend to give a shit about someone like Nesta?

"I-I need to go,” Nesta blurted, eyes scanning the room for the nearest exit.

"I know it's a lot to consider," Gwyn said quietly. She looked down at her feet. "But it's really helped me."

No, no, no.

Nesta didn't even realize she had started running until her lungs were burning from the exertion of energy. She ran and didn’t stop. She caught a flash of someone – Cassian’s – face as she sprinted past the lobby and outside, but she didn't look back. She couldn't.

The cold air was harsh against her lungs. She welcomed the burning sensation, gasping for more oxygen. Before Nesta could comprehend what was happening, she was spilling her guts on the sidewalk until she was dry heaving.

Passersby looked at her with disgust as they walked past, but Nesta couldn’t bring herself to care.

When there was nothing more to come out, Nesta wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and straightened herself. Every muscle in her body screamed. How she was able to stand, she had no idea. Nesta beelined to her car, locked the door, and speeded out of the parking lot before anyone could run after her.

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

That night, Nesta received a text from an unknown number.

Nesta, I asked Cassian for your phone number. I hope I didn’t overstep your boundaries. I just wanted to let you know that there will be a spot here if you want it. Please think about it. Gwyn

Her first instinct was to delete the text, cancel her membership to Illyria, and never face Gwyn - or Cassian for that matter - again. There was no way she was going to show her face in that gym again.

But despite everything, Nesta found herself saving Gwyn’s number into her contacts before she fell asleep.

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

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[joontier]

The King’s Guard | Chapter 1

pairings: kim seokjin x reader; jeon jungkook x reader

series rating: R (18+) | genre: historical drama au!; king seokjin! au; established relationship! au; royalty! au!; 

warnings: non-graphic mentions of an abuse by Y/N’s stepmama; mentions of death; ANGST; horny ass jinnie and y/n; groping; unprotected sex bc condoms werent invented yet; fingering; edging if ya squint; impregnation kink; voyeurism; oral m and f receiving; slight degradation; good god i have never written this much filth in my life, brb gotta go to church;

word count:  6.3k

g/n: hEY HEY HEY BACK WITH THE SMUT YALL; anywho a few disclaimers before u read this sweetie, YES, its Jung Jungkook for a reason, you’ll see soon enough ;) also,,,, there might be a few korean words thrown in there but ya know context clues or u could search them up too if u want,,,, but i’ll also be placing them at the end of this post for ya <3 P.S. this is also going to turn into a series y’aLLLL GAHHHH

The King’s Guard - Masterlist  ||  navi.

The King’s Guard | Chapter 1

It’s with Seokjin’s relentless pounding from behind you that you figure that the council meeting probably didn’t go well today. You’ve discovered that times of intimacies like these were a way to relieve himself of the stresses of being a newly pronounced king. Not that you were complaining though.

His fingers find your clit with practiced ease, rubbing at sensitive nub with great fervor. Seokjin’s punishing thrusts become slower as you both reached your highs, his cock falling limp shortly after he pulls out of you. Reaching over to the nearby table, he grabs a towel and dips it on the bowl of water, wiping away traces of his climax between your thighs. He pulls up his pants previously bunched in his ankles and arranges the rest of his durumagi, removing any possible evidence of your quick fuck.

“Council meeting went bad?” you asked, rubbing at your numbing forearms due to your husband’s forceful movements against the table he’d fucked you against. Seokjin briefly throws a sheepish look your way, guessing  you have finally figured out his nasty antics of de-stressing, but his beautiful face turns serious as he once again reminded of his responsibilities as king.

“Well with Minseok’s recent death, the dried-up lands in the far east, and an uprising rebellion in the south, I can’t say the meeting went particularly…peaceful,” Seokjin heaves a sigh and rests his hands on his knees.

Minseok was a trusted royal guard, serving Seokjin’s family for nearly all his life and had perished due to an attack during a visit to the southern city. While Minseok’s death caused a great loss in the palace, his blood symbolized the initial step towards an uprising, spurring on the southern troops even further.

With your back facing him, you felt remorseful as your hand subconsciously reaches for the south’s emblem given by your father, hidden beneath the thick collar of your hanbok – a harsh reminder that you were once from the southern palace – and yet you couldn’t do anything to help your king.

It was one thing being only half royalty and another being the only heir to the throne. After multiple tries, prayer movements, and endless offerings, the real queen of the south proved to be infertile and could not bear a child for the king. In the past however, a childless monarch proved to be an advantage to those who attempted to overthrow the throne. Hence your biological father, the king, decided that he needed to have an heir at once. However, the only other lady your dad would trust with such great feat is the head court lady, your mom, who became the king’s only concubine – ergo, your coming into this world.

Your father acknowledged you as his daughter the moment he heard your first cry as a newborn, much to the queen’s repressed opposition. She knew she had no other choice but to give in to your father’s recognition, but her display of hatred for you never stopped at your birth. Your life was an endless tale of narrow escapes from her atrocities.

On the bright side, you maintained a healthy relationship with your father, he taught you how to read and write, he showed you the ins and outs of the city, gave you your first archery lesson, and even taught you a thing or two about politics and diplomacy. You were well-founded for a girl your age, considering that women in your society were only perceived to be bearers of children and raisers of the young instead of hitting sack targets on a moving horse and being deployed on diplomatic affairs.

Life was almost perfect if it weren’t for your very promising antagonist of stepmother. The rest of the palace, your father included, regarded her as your stepmother, but she never came close to being a motherly figure in your life. Quite frankly, you knew she wanted you dead even before you grew a heart – probably the only reason why she wasn’t blessed with a child. The two-headed snake deserved it.

Unfortunately, you weren’t the only victim of her cruelty. As you grew up, you knew she was bound to get worse, it didn’t come as much of a shock when you heard of her plans to murder your father and your biological mother. What you didn’t expect though that the breakfast you’d shared with your father that morning was the last time you’ll ever see him.

You fled from the palace that night, bumping into Seokjin as you exited the gates of the palace. He recognizes your face from previous council meetings and have been acquainted with each other as members of royalty, but he’s never seen you in such a state of distress. Before he could ask you why you were running away from the palace at such hour, you mounted his horse and pleaded to him to take you anywhere else but your home – your previous home.

One look at your tear-stained face was all he needed and he turned his horse around, despite questioning looks he got from his guards. He had brought you back to the capital and took you in the palace. Soon friends turned to lovers and the rest is history.

Seokjin notices your silence and he’s come up from the edge of the bed to envelop you in his arms. “A frown isn’t fitting for a queen,” he takes your chin between his fingers and turns your face towards him. “What’s wrong, love?” he asks, confused by the frown drawn upon your face.

“I just…” you start off, but when your fingers find the cold metal of the necklace, you fall silent again. Seokjin sighs as he finally catches on your despondence and gives you a tighter hug and a fleeting kiss on the forehead.

For once in a long time, you felt like it was just the two of you again alone in the room, alone in the world. Just two lovers, no treacherous stepmothers, no responsibilities, no nation to take care of. Your mind races back to the memories of you sneaking out of the palace to your agreed rendezvous or walking to your secret garden to talk about your daily endeavors. Seokjin made this cruel world more bearable and you will always be eternally grateful for that. He would always shower you with the greatest support and understanding, fully aware of what you have been deprived of during your childhood.

Seokjin on one hand feels equally thankful to have you enter his life, to have you as his wife. He had always admired your knowledge in various things and he frequently shows fondness for your wit in a very remarkable way – like that one time he had brought you to a council meeting to share your ideas (a taboo in the culture – seeing as women weren’t cut in making political decisions) and called an advisor an imbecile for suggesting a huge increase in taxes when a fourth of the city was struggling with famine. Needless to say, Seokjin found the sight of you standing up to his advisors more than arousing so he had sent everyone home at once and two minutes after everyone had left, he already had you bent over his desk, fucking you into oblivion.

Your husband leaves shortly after taking a few scrolls from the shelves before inviting you to dinner, winking as he leaves your room, telling you that he has specially requested the kitchen to cook your favorite dish for dinner tonight. You take a bath during your husband’s absence, indulging yourself in a milk bath, while the servants scrub at your back and arms. As a child, the southern palace only afforded you cold baths with the heat in the south constantly unbearable but mainly because the queen was adamant on treating you badly. She’d made sure you regularly bathe in cold ones, even worse during the winter. You couldn’t keep count of the times you had to be rescued back to life by the court ladies after nearly shivering to death.

The servants take their leave as they’ve scrubbed most of the expanse of skin you’ve exposed for them to exfoliate and you sink further into the pool, a variety of petals floating around and about as you create ripples with your hands.

“My Queen,” a court lady bows her head as she enters your chambers. “The King requests your presence for the inauguration of the new king’s guards,” she informs, not meeting your eyes as you wear your undergarments. You give her a hum of approval and wait for the servants to finish braiding your hair so you could accompany your husband during the ceremony.

You can feel the pebbles under your shoes move with the steady beat of the drums. The inauguration was supposed to be held a few more months later but because of the death of Minseok, the ceremony had to be moved to an earlier date. You were about to turn the corner when the someone in torn, ragged clothes ran in front of you, your guards ushering you backwards to protection. With two watchmen already following the man, two from your group follow to see what the scurry is all about.

The remaining guards that are with you lead you towards the field quickly to evade any further commotion. When you reach where Seokjin is situated, he acknowledges you briefly, worry swimming in his eyes. You place a comforting hand on his to assure him that there is nothing to be worried about. Once you have settled in your seat, a guard comes up to Seokjin’s side and the drums stop. “Your Royal Highnesses, King Seokjin and the Queen.” Your husband raises a hand to acknowledge the crowd surrounding the field, all present to witness the ceremony.

“Let the inauguration of the new royal guards begin.”

The drums fall into a steady rhythm once again, men clad in red and white silk uniforms pile in groups of twenty. Applause falls within the crowd, hands busy clapping for the newly inducted protectors of the palace. You see a few girls displaying themselves by the corner where the guards enter the field. They mask their flirtatious looks under the guise of modesty, covering their powdered faces with fans while sending coquettish looks to the guards.

Seokjin lets out a chuckle when he follows your line of vision and you reply deftly “I don’t blame them. I’d definitely do the same when you’re in your uniform.” You try your best not to wink at your husband especially at a public gathering like this, but your witty effort to get him to stop judging you has proved to be effective. You know he is most likely going to punish you about this tonight and the idea already has you squirming in your seat.

“My King, may I present to you the new captain of the royal guards, Jung Jungkook of the east.” A man from the first row steps forward. “My King, my Queen.” He acknowledges your presence, bowing from the waist. Jung Jungkook drops to the ground, his weight resting on one leg. He draws his sword, plunges it to the ground – the sound of metal slicing through the soil ringing throughout the field. “I am Jung Jungkook from the Jung clan of the east. My father has served the royal family for many years and has perished terribly during the attack of the South. I am here to restore the honor to my family by serving your highness, to serve the capital, and to avenge my late father.” His head is hung low, yet he is breathing heavily, the weight of his emotions too heavy on his shoulders.

Seokjin leans forward, “Your father has fought well and there is no greater honor than to die for the safety of your countrymen. I am glad he has a son to continue the legacy of your family. Stand, Jung Jungkook, for I know your father’s soul is now at peace.” The man complies and speaks, “Long live King Seokjin, long live the capital!” The rest of the two hundred men follow suit. The citizens join in on the cheering but your eyes linger on the new captain and the faded scar on his left cheek.

The turmoil in the south has worsened during the past few weeks. You rarely see your husband nowadays, constantly trapped for hours on end inside the four walls of his office. You can feel the pressure of being the king taking its toll on him. The servants tell you that he barely touches his food and that your husband also always comes in late at night and leaves early at dawn to work. It’s bringing you great worry that Seokjin couldn’t properly take care of himself nowadays.  

Your attempts to aide him during these stressful times prove to be futile, especially with his damned advisors who keep on barring you from entering his office or attending the council meetings. It is believed anyways that the queen only tends to matters of the royal household and that women have no right to give counsel. Unfortunately for them, you are no ordinary queen nor are you just a queen. You are also the wife of your beloved husband and a handful of stubborn councilmen has never stopped you before.

While the royal advisors are busy wasting too much time on a singular issue, you went out on your own to witness the effects of the famine of the east. Most of the crops that were delivered throughout the country was produced in the east because of their healthy soil and the waters surrounding the city. When a month has passed and there were still no signs of rain in the east, you know this was going to cause a huge problem and eventually another predicament for Seokjin. You had lived long enough in the onerous south to witness problems like this turn into bigger ones.

You have made arrangements to visit the city and so far, your plan going smoothly as planned. You manage to sneak out of the royal seamstress’ room after paying her a decent amount of silver coins for a commoner’s dress. It’s getting late and your husband will be returning to your room soon so you trudge back a little faster just to make it in time. When you reach the back door to your room, you see two guards lounging stand up abruptly at your presence. “M-my q-queen,” he bows, not meeting your eyes. “It’s alright. Just don’t tell anybody.”

Seokjin enters the room just when you’re stood in front of the mirror, hands removing the pins from your head. He slides the wooden door gently and sends you a small smile through the reflection on your mirror. “Why don’t I help you with that?” You gently decline his offer, not wanting to bother your exhausted king with any more chores. It’s unfair how he is still impeccably handsome even with the weariness evident on his face. Seokjin still insists though, claiming that a king’s functions should not be an excuse to escape those of a husband’s. “And besides, I ought to know how to do this if we’ll have a daughter in the future.” The statement was supposed to be a genuine shot at what the future might hold but your body’s treacherous response is far from the innocence of Seokjin’s statement.

Just the thought of it has heat pooling in your abdomen. You haven’t had enough time in your hands to spend time to think about things like that, Seokjin being a newly-crowned king, more so as a newly-wedded couple.

Your husband notices the deep breath you take, his eyes slowly getting darker by the second. He takes the last golden pin from your braids, letting your hair fall into loose waves. You feel relieved when the strain on your scalp melts away in seconds – something that you should’ve been used to by now, considering that you have been royalty all your life, but nothing beats that fresh wave of relief when you free your hair from all the pins and ribbons. That’s why when Seokjin cards his fingers through your locks, you feel the rising of the small hairs at the back of your neck, such mundane action bordering on sensual.

He does this a few more times in silence, just combing through your hair gently, deeming that seeing you fall into such comfort like this is enough for him. His chaste intentions though are all thrown aside when you lean against him, your undone hanbok falls from your shoulder, exposing the skin there in all its glory. Your husband takes all your hair and transfers it on your left shoulder and you tilt your head to the same side, giving him space where he could pepper all his kisses on.

He murmurs sweet nothings against your skin while sending fleeting kisses from your ear’s helix, to your cheek, you jawline then down to your shoulders. “Little you and me running around…” he murmurs while pushing the rest of your hanbok off your body. It doesn’t take much effort, the silken cloth sliding down easily and now you’re just left in your undergarments.

“Would you like that, my queen?” Seokjin asks, fingers thumbing the ribbon that’s keeping together the last layer of clothing you have on. It takes only one breathy ‘yes’ from you and the cloth covering your intimacies falls altogether, leaving no trace of modesty.

He cups both breasts in each palm, squeezing and kneading the flesh. Your nipples are firm, already hardened by the worshipping kisses he places all over. He trails a finger along your jaw, turning your face toward him. His lips meet yours, plump lips pressing gently against your own. When you figure he’s about to pull away, he grips your ass and you gasp, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into the kiss, your heart thudding hard against your ribcage. It’s been too long since you had seen your husband so… sensual. Usually, you’re both in a rush with the sole intent of getting some release but tonight, it seems as if Seokjin is determined to take his time in claiming all of you in the most intimate of ways, slowly but surely like it’s the last night of his life.

Seokjin savors every moan, every whimper as his deft fingers roam your body. He loves every curve and dip; how soft and taut it is at the same time. The milk baths you’ve always indulged in and your younger days of archery and horse riding had definitely done you good. He tries to etch them all into his memory though he knows flashes of images of you in his brain could never give justice to the reality of having you in his arms.

His fingers reach your cunt and he cups it, making you lean further against him for support. You feel the fine sheen of sweat of his torso on his back and for a moment you wonder how he’s managed to take his to take his top off without taking a hand off you. He pulls you away from your thoughts when he tugs you closer to him, shamelessly grinding his erection against your ass. He finds your clit easily through memory, rubbing the sensitive nub, fingers moving slowly in circular motions.

“S-seokjin please,” you beg, knowing you’re nearly there but still so far away, far too greedy to orgasm on clitoral stimulation alone. You needed him inside you. Now. “Speak up, my love,” he orders, shallowly dipping a finger in your cunt and withdrawing it just as quick. “Please. Y-you. Need y- “You’re rendered breathless by his teasing, your hand traveling to tug at his hair. “You want me to put a baby in you, hmm?” He finally pushes a finger in. “You’d love that don’t you? Having to carry the next heir to the throne inside you?” Another finger breaches you, Seokjin chuckling when you let out a loud gasp.

He nips at the shell of your ear, reminding you of the presence of the guards outside in a low whisper. Your hand instantly moves to cover your mouth but Seokjin grabs you by the wrists. “Who told you to cover your mouth, hmm? We both know you want the whole palace to hear how filthy their queen is.” Seokjin must admit, the whole idea is just as pleasing to him as it is to you. You were practically squelching when his fingers quicken the pace, your orgasm coming to you at breakneck speed. The feeling of his fingers toying with your cunt too much for you to handle that you are unable to stop your lover’s name fall like a prayer on your lips. Your whole body trembles in his grip, legs threatening to give in. A whimper escapes you when he pulls his fingers out, sending him a glare through the mirror. You were so, so close.

“My love, as much as I enjoy seeing you wrecked under my touch through the mirror, we have to take this to the bed.” He gives you a chaste kiss on the cheek and tugs at your arm, but you stand your ground. You wag a finger at him, ‘tsk’-ing at his impatience. Not until he’d have a taste of his own medicine.

You let your finger trail along his torso, tracing the outlines of his abdominals. Imitating your husband’s  earlier torturous ministrations, you take your time with him, reveling in how much you’ve affected him – how his breathing is getting more labored by the second. You run a finger along the length of his shaft still covered by his pants. He’s already hard, you reckon, feeling it slightly twitch under your touch.

Slowly, you lower down on your knees, tugging his pants down along with your descent. The sight of his cock makes you wet your lips, too eager to please. “My love, you don’t have to,” his hands hover yours that are resting on his hips. It’s not that he didn’t want your mouth on his cock but he just wanted to drawl out this evening for as long as he could. Frankly, he couldn’t afford to release in your mouth without having felt your velvety walls first.

“I want to.” Not wanting to wait any longer, you tentatively place a kiss on the bulbous head, making Seokjin gasp at the contact. You get bolder, gathering some of the precum that has gathered on the tip spreading it along his length your tongue. Using the armrests as leverage, you straighten your back and finally take him in your mouth. Seokjin deems he’ll never get used to this feeling. You vaguely hear him groan above you, but you’re far too busy pushing his shaft farther inside.

You briefly gaze at him through your eyelashes. It’s unfair, you reckon, that even when your lamps cast this golden glow to only one side of his face, he’s just as ethereal as under the light of day. You take him in your mouth as far as you can. When Seokjin throws his head back in pleasure with his wonderfully thick neck on display only for you to see, it ignites a carnal desire in you, so you push yourself further. When he finally hits the back of your throat, you swallow and your husband chokes on air, his knuckles turning white as he grips onto the armrests.

It’s an arduous task, having to try and take control of your breathing as you pleasure your husband. You move up then down slowly until you find a steady rhythm. You feel your eyes water with the pace until his chest starts heaving and you know he’s nearing his climax. “N-no. P-please,” your husband pleads, each word brokenly spoken. Tugging at your hair slightly, he pries you off his mouth, releasing a sigh of relief when you take your mouth off him.

“Bed now.” With your knees still sore from kneeling too long, it takes you some time to get up. Impatiently, the moment you get one of your knees off the ground he hooks his arm below them and lifts you off the ground, carrying you bridal style. “Stop trying to stall.” Seokjin huffs, his lips forming a pout. You giggle at his cuteness, of course even at a time like this, he manages to make you smile like a kid with candy.

He lays you gently on the bed, your hair fanning out on the pillows. He caresses your face with the pads of his fingers and you find yourself leaning against his touch. “My queen,” he sighs, “Your beauty is unrivaled. Truly.” Your lips meet when he closes the distance between the two of you. He stays like that for a moment, his swollen lips placed on top of yours until he swipes his tongue against your bottom lip. You fervently kiss each other, feeling yourself slowly getting lost in the kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes pry open again only to see your husband’s teary ones.

“Seokjin-ie, are you okay? What’s the matter?” He shakes his head, replying, “You’re just so beautiful. I’m the luckiest man alive to have you as my wife.” Your face crumples at his words and you give him another kiss. “How could you possibly think that when so many other women who vying for my position right now? Both literally and figuratively. You’re glad when you get a chuckle out of Seokjin. “As much as I want to argue about who’s the luckier one, I have a more pressing problem. And it’s getting really painful, so please…” His lips close in on one of your breasts, your hand flying up to pull at his hair.

Once again, you’re a moaning mess beneath Seokjin. You’re whining, begging for more than the assault he’s doing on your breasts. He doesn’t waste time in complying with your whims, your legs spreading apart when he shifts his position above you. He braces himself on one arm and you hiss as he swipes against your folds, taking some of the wetness on his palm and rubbing it onto his cock. When he pushes slowly against your entrance, you whimper as he gradually sinks into you. Gods, you don’t think you’ll ever get used to this, to him.

When he’s fully sank into you to the hilt, he pauses, knowing that you’ll need a moment for the pain to subside into pleasure. Seokjin places kisses your shoulders as he waits for you to adjust to the feeling. You push your hips up, encouraging him to move. Dragging his cock out slowly, he pushes back down just as languidly. “Jin, please,” you beseech, goading him to go faster. The moment the word escapes your lips, Seokjin begins pounding into you relentlessly. He hastily places a pillow under your hips to angle yours better. The next thrust he gets in has you mewling, each stroke easily rubbing up against your g-spot.

Your thighs begin quivering, every fiber of your body ablaze with each plunge of your husband’s hips. Seokjin feels your impending orgasm with your cunt beginning to pulsate against his cock, and he moves one of his hands between your thighs and starts to toy vigorously with your clit.

“Fuck!” you scream, fisting the sheets that now haphazardly dangling from the bed. Your high hits you so strong, your pussy tightening, clamping around Seokjin. His thrusts begin to stutter as you continue to milk his cock. With one final push, Seokjin cums, releasing ropes of cum inside you. He stays on top of you for a moment, too exhausted and worn out to move an inch. Also, because he wishes that this time it finally gets you pregnant, that your earlier inclination to the idea of having a baby inside you is as enthralling as it is to him.

Seokjin finally pulls out of you with a small grunt, elbows that have been holding up his weight finally give in, breathing heavily as he falls to your side.

He hadn’t meant to stay this long.

In fact, when he heard the first moan that fell from your lips, he had sent the rest of the guards to go on patrol to give you and your husband the much-needed privacy. He had intended to keep lookout from the front of the hanok. With one more corridor to clear out before leaving, he took his steps with caution, knowing that this passage was the one next to your room. The palace’s wooden walls will never be thick enough to hide the sounds of pleasure. His ears are already ringing with the faint sound of your moans but there was one section where the sweet sound was most audible. The door to your room was slightly open, the light from your lamps passing through the narrow slit.

He tries to push away the temptation, reminding himself that he has other duties to attend to… right?

Surely, the rebellious troops would have been subdued before they reach the palace…right?

Ultimately, he can’t leave with you sounding so desperate and broken…right?

He knew his resolve was breaking with every step he took nearer towards the thin beam of light.  He takes the final step with bated breath, wincing when the wood creaks under his weight. He lets out a shaky exhale when he finally peeks through the crevice. Your bed is situated right across from where he’s watching – the whole scene like a live show from a festival. He knows this is wrong, that what happens inside the four walls of your chambers is none of his business but when he sees the king flip you and take you from behind, his lips part, suddenly out of breath like he’s the one pounding into you.  

The voyeur continues to watch the whole spectacle with an unrelenting gaze. He watches the unsuspecting royals get lost in their own world while he lingers in perverse amusement. The strain in his silk pants is getting painful, uncomfortable too when the tip of his cock brushes against the wet patch on the cloth. He reproaches himself for his lack of manners tonight but if this mischief shall reward him with a release later on, then he shall remain here, unperturbed.

Moments later Seokjin’s hips stutter and he feels his own hands lose rhythm as well. Your loud moans fill the room as you reach your high, your husband following. His hand moves faster than before, white spurts of cum coating his hand not long after. He shivers when he pulls his pants back up, the silk proving to be too much for the sensitive tip of his cock. When his eyes revert back to the crevice, he sees Seokjin trace patterns on your back while the both of you murmur softly in each other’s arms. Your husband gives you a chaste kiss, lips closing in on the shell on your ear as he whispers something that makes you giggle. He takes this as his cue to leave, hoping that no other guard has lingered around long enough to see him leave the house.

Fortunately, no one sees the dazed captain walk out of the hanok in the middle of the night.

You are momentarily awakened from a fleeting kiss placed on your cheek, the back of your hands rubbing at your drooping eyelids. Body still sore from your activities last night, you blindly reach out for the blue cloak in front of you as you call out your husband’s name. “I hadn’t meant to wake you from your slumber, my love. Go back to sleep.” He strokes your hair gently while humming a soft melody to lull you back to your slumber.

There’s an ache on his chest when he watches sleep take over you once more, soft snores escaping your lips. Seokjin wonders if he would get to see you this peaceful one more time. You shift in your sleep, the blanket revealing purplish marks littered across your chest. Normally, this would’ve sent all his blood pumping south but with the emotion weighing on his shoulders, all he’s thinking about is engraving your beauty into his memory.

The present disposition in his hands had monopolized his time and because of this he knew he had been neglecting you these past few weeks. He wasn’t able to check up on you, ask how your day went, or even join supper, hence your intimacies last night.  Although your husband knew that after all these years together, you were never one to demand affection because you were well aware of his duties as ruler of a nation. Funnily enough, it was he who yearned for that most of time, while you would remind him of his obligations with a chortling intonation.

Usually, you would push him away when he tries to lavish you with kisses even with the guards and court ladies present, but he knew deep inside that you secretly enjoyed them, cheeks turning a rosy red every time he teases you about it. Albeit being born into royalty, you were treated like a slave by your own step-mother so Seokjin knew it would have taken some time before he had successfully lured you out of your shell. And he knew he had forever to show you the love that you were deprived of. Or did he now?

He recalls the time you had both met in your secret rendezvous. It was a garden exhibiting the most gorgeous fusion of pink and green, cultivated to perfection by Seokjin himself and of course with the help of a few chosen gardeners. Included in the garden was a narrow passage with water directly flowing from the Gaeun River. The secluded site was a testament to Seokjin’s love for the color pink. Flowers of all shades of blush are scattered among the lush green grass, from Azaleas to Carnations to Peonies. ‘Most are from foreign lands’ he informs, carefully plucking out a flower and handing one to you. A blush instantly colors your cheeks at this and Seokjin finds it most endearing, unable to resist teasing you. “You seem to blend in just fine with my flowers,” he observes, poking your cheeks, “but you stand out the most.”

Amongst the rosy hued shrubs and mossy rocks, on a small slope stood a singular cherry blossom tree - your most favorite feature of all. Cherry blossoms had always been known to symbolize the transience of life and rebirth. True to your ancestors’ beliefs, this special tree was tangible proof of the metaphor. The tree had witnessed quite a number of your most cherished moments in life. This was where Seokjin brought you when you broke down into tears after escaping the southern palace, this was where he first pecked you on the cheek, and this same tree witnessed Seokjin’s humble request for your hand in marriage.

Regret weighs heavily on him. You were the only constant reality he had in this capricious life. You had been nothing but perfect, always by his side no matter what. Having to bid his farewell like this broke his heart but if he properly did so, it would probably break his heart all the more. Your husband had already made up his mind – he is to leave for the South before the dawn breaks.

Seokjin was hanging onto that small sliver of hope that a discussion on the dilemma may change their minds. The situation in the southern city had inevitably worsened but he had to try. He could be very persuasive if he wanted to, sure, but you always knew it wouldn’t work. Not by a long shot. You made sure to remind him of that fact. That’s why you never supported the idea of visiting the city especially at a time of agitation like this. The southerners are men honed by war and they are not called the nation’s keepers for nothing. They are willing to sacrifice lives rather than heed diplomacy. It had proved beneficial in the past when foreigners wanted to colonize your country, but with a turmoil conceived by its own countrymen, these people are all the more fueled to fight for what they believe in.

Then again, this was his decision. He had to try. He was willing to risk everything for his nation, even if it meant that this might be the last time he’ll be seeing your face. He wanted to be selfish, just this once, to give in to the matters of the heart, but he knew he couldn’t. If he did, then all his parent’s teachings would have been for nothing. Being born into royalty couldn’t have meant anything. Being the king then would lose its meaning.

With tears brimming at the corner of his eyes, he retrieves a scroll, his brush, and an ink block. ‘This all seems unreal’, Seokjin reels. He only takes out the three when he’s making a new proclamation or with pronouncements usually related to the duties of a king. You two could only stay apart for so long and at the end of the day you’d always find yourselves each other’s arms. Not once did he imagine having to write you a letter, let alone one bidding you farewell.

Patches of tears soften different spots on the previously coarse scroll. With dawn fast approaching, Seokjin ends his letter with a lingering kiss on the paper. He retrieves a flower that he’s plucked from the garden and places it together with the scroll he’s left on the bedside table. Seokjin kisses you on the cheek one last time, “Goodbye, my queen.”

© joontier 2020. All rights reserved. 

[renorasims]

I’m still going to be around, creating and active in the community! After a rough couple of months with constant stress of keeping my quantity production up to par, i’m taking some months off of Patreon.

When?

My billing cycle will be paused for at least 3 months. During this period pledged patron will not be charged. At the end of March i will re-evaluate if i need more time or start up my page again. I will inform you ahead of time if/when i start up my page again! I will change the bio of my patreon page/tiers/website accordingly so people will know that there will be no early-access/pre-release items for at least 3 months.

Continuing support?

Pausing the billing cycle only pauses the monthly billing cycle, which is only at the start of the new month. So if you pledge, you get charged right away. If you’ve already pledged/are an active patron and want to donate; you have to un-pledge and re-pledge to get charged. This way, i can still use Patreon as a donating system. Please don’t feel obliged or anything! I love you regardless<333

Why?

I need to take a nice looong breather and i just want to play the freakin’ game for awhile haha! =) Also; update my CC on my slow-poke pace, experience what needs to be made bc i miss it in-game and... last but not least; make CC in peace! Care to know more? Read further below!

First and foremost; thank you so much to everyone who ever supported me! I cannot possibly put into words how this made a difference for me the  past 1,5 years i’ve been doing Patreon <333! Till this day, it paid for most of my creating expenses (software subscriptions, hosting fees). Please don’t take the below explanation as a insult or me being  ungrateful or anything. Its has nothing to do with that! Its just the reality of my current situation.

While i enjoyed and hopefully one day might enjoy Patreon again, it has also put a strain on me and my personal life. I know more creators struggle with ‘the pressure’ and i just want to share my side of it. To enlighten the other side of the coin (pun intended).

Creating CC takes time, in my case a lot bc im a freak and tend to uphold myself to absurd standards for some reason. bc of this i never learned how to be more chill and just ‘let it go’. I sometimes have periods that every pixel needs to be right which is absurd. Its also takes inspo and sometimes... the juices just aren’t flowing. Now, there is not room for times like that.

There’s this certain expectation to get 3/4 items each month since that’s the unwritten ‘rule’. If you look at most pages, that’s the unwritten (sometimes written) ‘threshold’. I failed to deliver that, twice. ‘Only’ had 3 items for that month and immediately people unpledged citing something “did not deliver what was promised”. Don’t get me wrong, it’s your right to do so! If you’re not satisfied than by all means, do what you have to do!

Hear me say this in the nicest way possible; just try to remember that at the other side of the screen there is a person working for 1-3$ a month (i get maybe $0,75-2,5 of it after conversion fees, Patreon fees, etc not to mention; taxes... which is at least a 3rd of the total amount, here in the Netherlands) in my case at least 32 hours a month. In most months its more but im a bit embarrassed to reveal how slow i work. Being a "smaller" Patreon Creator (nothing wrong with that!) i don't make 'big money' with it. The biggest misconception of Patreon i think. It's super nice(!) to earn anything with it! Don't get me wrong! but the hours never weigh in for the earned amount in my case unfortunately. And reading those exit-polls after those 2 incidents... I stopped reading them all together. It crushes someone’s soul who’s literally working her/his ass off to deliver you CC and only came up 1 item short. bc of this i sometimes (in rare cases, thank god) had to go for quantity instead of quality which is NOT for me.

Please know: most of my patron’s aren’t like that all! 95% is satisfied/understanding/loving and supporting all the way!!! I love you guys to the moon and back and thank you for being there this past 1,5 years! <333 I only experienced this twice in 2 years but still... it takes the pressure to a level that’s just not healthy (for me) to sustain.

A lot of creators seem to work the whole Patreon thing quite well. I really hope they do, I’m happy for them! and hope they can continue to grow healthily! Nevertheless, I can’t help but feel that i’m not alone in this. Being open about this is hard bc people think you’re making ‘all this money’ and you don’t want to come off as ‘complaining’. I totally understand, i had the same feelings. At the end of the day i chose to share my side bc i suspect there’s a lot more stress/pressure going on behind those pages than non creating simmers could possibly comprehend. I rlly hope this can contribute to more knowledge and understanding what can be happening behind a Patreon Page.

Hopefully I can come back in a few months! I still wish I could create full time some day (putting in less hours at my normal job) and will actively keep this in mind but i might have to acknowledge/accept that it will never happen. I have to see if i can conquer my own insecurities and reshape that idea in order for it to work in a sustaining and healthy situation.

[theficplug]

l Next Lifetime l Erik Killmonger l

previous chapters: l part 1 l

erik kilmonger x reader

warnings: none, but the usual 18+ for the eventual smut and a possible tw for grief but i promise it gets better and its a romcomsynopsis: reader grieves Erik until she doesn’t (i’m trying not give too much away). I really want to make it a series that i actually keep up with (sorry Girls Trip readers) because I have up to part 4 written. alright thats all i hope yall vibe with it. 

l part 2 l

“Yeah I do, I think that like if we want. We can come back as someone else or like maybe when we love someone really strongly and we have like soul ties we can come back to them in another life. But that’s just me. We could just be hitting the cha cha slide next to Father J.C.” Iridia explains and Tika shakes her head while laughing at her. 

“Personally, I don’t think so. I believe once our life Earthside is done we return to the cosmos to be a part of the stars that light up the night sky on our loved ones darkest nights. But why are we talking about this on your birthday? We are very much alive with much to celebrate miss thang. I’m ready to go!” Tika says to you as she grabs the car keys. 

“So I met someone while I was at the store and he invited all of us to a party at the Roller Rink but I gotta let you know it’s like crazy how eerily similar he looks to Erik.” you say to them and they both give each other a look before looking back at you.

“OH! Don’t give me that look! I know y’all probably think I’m losing it, but you know what they say everybody got a doppelganger somewhere. Anyways, I know it’s not exactly on our itinerary but I wanna go if y’all are down?” you ask them and they give a worried look before nodding and agreeing. 

“Hell yeah we’re in. I haven’t been to a skating rink since like 10th, maybe 11th grade? This should be fun to see if I got it or if I’m gonna buss my ass.” Tika says laughing.

The rest of the day was pretty easy breezy but you could not get over seeing him. Who’s possibly not him? In front of you. Happy and laughing and present. 

You tried to shake off the thoughts and feelings during brunch with your girls and for the rest of the day enjoying the street festival and winning a giant stuffed giraffe. Between the 3 of you, you won enough stuffed animals to fill the entire backseat of your car and eventually left the festival with a caricature drawing of the 3 of you.

Before you knew it, it was 6:40 and you and your girls were back at the beach house getting ready for the party. 

You searched around your suitcase for the outfits that Iridia had packed for you and settled on. 

You gave yourself a once over in the mirror and fluffed your fro a little before re-applying your lip gloss. 

“GIRL, YOU LOOK SO GOOD. What is going on?  You tryna get chose?” Tika asks standing in the doorway as she smiles at you with her ipod in one hand and a freeze-able daiquiri pouch in the other. 

You laugh as Tika glides around the room shaking her hips to the beat and doing a little roll as she saunters over to you to help you clasp your shirt in the back.

It’s safe to say that you haven’t been exactly up to your fashionably self for the past few months but Iri giving you options with the different pieces of clothing  that she bought you had you feeling like yourself again.

“Damn, I’m good.” Iri says while giving you a twirl and takes selfies with you and Tika.

You purse your lips and give your best smize towards her phone as she snaps a photo of you and for a moment things feel like they used to. 

“Just wanted to feel cute for once. I love this top and girl it got my titties SIT-TING.” you reply giggling and childishly nudging your girls before asking if they’re ready to go. 

You put the address into the gps and you were off on your way.You tried turning up the radio to drown out how loud your thoughts were going and in a million different directions.

 About 20 minutes later. You look out the window once arriving at the skating rink to see cars already filling the entire parking lot and you could see people laughing while holding onto each other as they skated their way inside. 

The music is already blaring and you could definitely tell that “Daka”’s friend is a party planner. The venue had some sort of projector or something set up so that the entire room seemed like it changed “worlds” with each song. There were multiple food stations, and a live DJ playing everything from 90s R&B to New Orleans bounce music and everything in between.

You and your girls quickly grabbed a pair of skates and looked around for N’Jadaka and sure enough within a few minutes he was grooving his way over to you this time dressed in a slightly opened printed shirt and light washed jeans. 

He skated around you with a big ass smile on his face. His golds were gleaming under the lights as it bounced off of the diamonds engrained in it. “YOU MADE IT! How y’all doing?” he asks your girls and they stand there gasping with their mouths wide open. 

“I mean he could be his goddamn identical twin. You were not lying! The only thing he’s missing are the scars and his dreads. God damn.” Tika was the first to speak before Iri introduced herself.

“Hey, Happy Birthday, I’m Iri. This is Tika’s rude self and you already met our boo.” Iri says pulling him in for a quick hug. 

“ I’m sorry, excuse us, you just look exactly like somebody we knew. Happy Birthday! It was his birthday too. It’s wild how people really do be having doppelgangers. Alright, so I’m gonna go try not to break my damn leg. Knowing I gotta go to work on Monday. Come on.” Tika says taking Iri by the hand and making her way onto the rink with her to give you and him some time alone. 

You shift your weight trying to keep yourself steady as you sway to music , knowing that he’s eyeing you up and down.

“Man must’ve been a hell of a person. I’m glad you came though. I didn’t think Orleans was gonna do all of this.” he says laughing and you can’t control the butterflies feelings like they were fluttering around your stomach. That’s his laugh.

“He was. To me at least, he was. Of course, I mean I haven’t been to a roller rink in forever and I really needed some time to just know what it’s like to be carefree again.” you admit and he nods along listening to your words.

He decided to save his comment on “he was” for later. Hoping that there would be a later for the two of you and opted for taking your hand in his and leading you onto the rink .

“Well, in that case. Show me what you got and forget about everything else for a minute.” he offers and you accept  his offer and shakily make your way onto the rink like bambi trying to walk for the first time. 

“Okay, so I’ll admit. I don’t actually know how to skate. I don’t why I thought this was a good idea.” you manage to stand for all of 10 seconds before tripping over onto him and he turns towards the DJ talking into the mic and signals for him to slow the music down.

“I got you.” he says and “Always Be My Baby” starts to play softly in the background as the “world” changes to a starry night. 

You look up at him for a moment and nod before leaning into him. As you rest your head on his shoulder he begins to skate you left to right gently swaying you to the beat of the song as his hand rests respectfully on the small of your back almost instinctively. It took everything in you not to start tearing up again.

This was your song . He always promised that you’d be a part of him no matter what happens in life. You were always going to be his baby. 

All the couples were paired off and you looked around at Iri holding onto Tika and smiled knowing that they’ve never acknowledged their feelings for each other but it was clear as day to anyone else. 

He swayed you and held you against him while his thumb stroked your back gently and you closed your eyes trying to soak up your time with him. 

You don’t know how it happened or if this was one long drawn out delusion or what exactly was going on in the moment, but all you knew was that you were able to feel the warmth of your E in your arms again and his scent evading all of your senses. 

In this moment he was smiling and content and at peace, not being shipped back to you with claw marks in his chest and bruises all over him. He was here with even slow breaths and enjoying himself. 

You knew that he felt it too because as the song ended you opened your eyes to find him looking down at you with this look of confusion and adulation on his face. 

You run your fingers over his cheek and clear your throat and recoil your hand back by your side. 

“I think your friends are calling for you.” you say to him playfully as the men and one woman around your age skate over to him and around the two of you, asking you a bunch of questions at once.

E- N’Jadaka let’s go of you to turn to them and introduce them to you .

“This is Orleans big head ass, Khalil , Pen, Lina, and Big Mike.” he says and they say hey and ask you if you are from around the area and you talk back and forth. 

The conversation between you and his little group was so easygoing. It didn’t feel forced or awkward as he stood beaming from you to them.

“I've been there once or twice. I really liked the Hottentot Saartjie/ Sarah Baartman piece about the dehumanization and caricaturization of black women, especially darker skin women, then and now. It was both interesting and heartbreaking. It’s the reason why I do what I do now. I create safe spaces for black girls and women of all ages. It’s my greatest accomplishment and something I’m most proud of.” you answer Mike’s question about the new black art exhibit downtown.

Mike looks at you and shakes his head in wonder and amusement.

“Daka, with all due respect bruh. I gotta ask her to marry me. Or you need to let me know what aisle that was you met her because I’mma swing by your parents' store tonight. I think we might be out of bread or something.” Big Mike says before complimenting you on your outfit and Lina joined in by asking if you’d like to check out a new record store with her on Tuesday.  

Next thing you knew your girls skated next to you to see what was going on. Tika introduced herself to the group and Iridia followed through.

“Hey I heard something about a record store because I could use some new ones. I think our neighbors are tired of me playing Otis Redding every night for the last few weeks. Keep asking me if I had a breakup every time I see her. Bless her nosey heart , Mrs. Pepper.” Iridia says talking animatedly and as gesticulatively as she always does and his small group of friends as everyone does seems completely enamored by her. 

“Of course, yeah, why don’t you come too? And Mrs. Pepper just doesn't know good music but I may be biased because Cigarettes and Coffee is my favourite song. Hold that thought. My mouth is dry as hell from all that skating around, be right back-” Lina says before skating away for refreshments and the rest of the group talks amongst each other.

Other friends of N’Jadaka come up at random times to hug him, get photos, or say happy birthday.

“You want some?” Lina asks Erik as she returns  to the group with a cupcake in her hand as she peeled the wrapper off and offered Erik a piece of the chocolate dessert. She reached out her hand towards his mouth and you looked from her to him and then at the cupcake which looked like it had walnuts in it. You push the piece away from his mouth and she looks at you puzzled. 

“What’s up with you?” he asks looking confused 

“Chocolate walnut cupcake.” you say simply not realizing that you were supposed to have just met him this morning .

“I- I mean just a lucky guess you know most people have nut allergies and shit.” you try to cover your tracks and he let out a sigh before laughing and nodding.

“You right too. Damn I was gon be out here looking like Will Smith when he ate that shellfish in Hitch for the rest of the function. I’m allergic to nuts. Good looking out ma.” he says and you nod at him before telling him to go skate with his friends you’d meet up later.

As you part ways your friends have about 3000 questions each. Iri believing that that definitely has to be Erik and Tika believing that you both had lost your natural born ass minds. 

You all settle on how wild it is that he looked like Erik and left it there. You enjoyed the rest of your night swag surfing with a room full of new friends and your old forever friends and just fully enjoying your birthday. 

“WE LIKE TO PAARTTAAYYY. AYYYYEEE AYYYYYEEE.” you sung out loud at the top of your lungs with everyone else and Beyonce. 

Somehow you end up twerking on Lina and having a good laugh as the drinks flow through your system.

You glance over at N’Jadaka being circled by some of his guests and he breaks the circle to grab your hand and lead you to the middle of it with him. 

“MY BIRTHDAY TWIN!” he shouts over the music to his guests and you shake your head telling him that he doesn’t really have to share his spotlight with you.

“Ain’t no problem.” he responds and you watch as everybody starts to skate a circle around you and Erik and y’all both laugh and pose for pictures while people sing Happy Birthday the Stevie Wonder version.

 His friends and yours all took turns to skate up to pin money on you both. 

You cheer and clap along to the music as you sing Happy Birthday to him and he sings it back to you. 

Before you know it you're both smiling at each other and getting swept up into a soft gentle kiss that feels like electricity is pulsing between the two of you.

As you close your eyes you can get a glimpse of kissing him before he left for Wakanda. The way he pressed his forehead against yours , the way your hands rested against his beating heart, and the way that his soft plumps felt against yours.

You knew that he felt it too because when you  broke the kiss with a tug of his bottom lip he was staring down at you once again with a puzzled expression.

“I’m sorry if I overstepped. I just-” you explain before exiting the circle and making your way out of the skating rink.

You quickly take off the shows and put your regular shoes back on as you stand outside for a moment to get some fresh air and gather yourself.

"Why is this happening? How is this happening? People don't just get to come back. This is insane. This is insane."

It didn’t take long at all before Erik was smoothly grooving his way out of the door not once spilling his drink.

“You know ma, I’mma lot of things. But I know for sure stupid ain’t one of them.” he says swaying his shoulders to the music before he stops and stands in front of you.

“You know something, don’t you? How do we really know each other?” he asks slowly 

“I don’t. We met in Aloha Oakland for the first time. I feel so connected to you and believe that we have chemistry because you remind me of my ex. He passed away nearly a year ago and I didnt wanna tell you that right off the bat because the shit’s weird. “Hey, sorry I passed out ,  you cute but you remind me of my dead ex. So yeah, have a good day”.” you explain and he nods deciding once again to not press the issue. 

"I'm sorry for your loss. Grief is never an easy thing to go through. I feel I experienced so much of that so early I didn't know anything else besides death. I was told that my birth parents were both murdered. But my parents taught me through all that rot and decay of the heart something beautiful can still grow. They taught me how to live. That there is more to life is more than just surviving day to day out of spite and anger." He speaks slowly like he's really pondering the words that he wants to say before continuing. 

"It's kinda my fault. I feel like I was a lil too forward with all of this. My friends and the way that they party can be overwhelming. I'd like to make it up to you if you up for it. Just me and you. Maybe like a coffee or something quieter than this. I want to get to know you. Even though I know it's gonna sound corny as hell, I can't help feeling like I already do. You passing out by them discount cakes wasn't an accident at all, I think it was fate." he says and you look up at him before nodding. 

“I think so too.”

[saiyanwhore]

Arranged (Vegeta X Reader)

Chapter Nine // Planet Vegeta Meet Frieza

A/N: So, incase you haven't noticed, all these chapters were on Wattpad before here. I haven't written for this story in about a month and it's because I didn't know the direction in which to take it. I still am not sure, but here it is.

Vegeta sat in his room alone thinking of everything that had happened in the past few days. It had been 3 days since the two of you had bonded, and he was getting annoyed with you being the only thing on his mind. He was aware that the only way to keep you out of his thoughts was to see you and speak to you. 

Training had been rough too. He had been so off and the fact that you were avoiding him by training in a different room was really starting to agitate the Prince. He hated that you were trying to distance yourself.

You were just trying to give him space. You knew how he was. You didn't want to overwhelm him.

Vegeta couldn't take himself anymore. He stood up and marched to your room where he barged in without knocking.

"Woman!" He screamed. "I demand you presence immediately!"

You walked out of the bathroom to see Vegeta with his arms crossed, standing with fiery eyes. His jaw clenched.

"Yes, your majesty?" You sarcastically answered, putting your hand on your hip and raising a brow.

Vegeta ran his tongue across his teeth before speaking. "Tch. Why have you been avoiding me, woman?"

Your eyes widened as you realize you'd been caught. "I-I- uhm..." You cleared your throat before trying to speak again. "I just wanted to give you some space. Didn't want to bug you."

You shrugged your shoulders.

"You are not a nuisance to me! For heaven's sake!" Vegeta angrily said, putting his arms to his side. His face going red at his own words.

He didn't mean to admit that.

You looked down at Vegeta's clenched fists, noticing the ring you got him on his finger. You softly smiled.

You knew that by Vegeta's words, he meant he cared about you and wanted you around.

You walked up to him, wrapping your arms around him. You gave him a kiss on his cheek.

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as his arms went around you. You felt his tail intertwine with yours.

"Oh, Vegeta." You sighed softly as you fell into him even more, his grip tightening around you.

You could hear his heartbeat as he held you, the smell of him flooding your nostrils.

"You've made me all soft. I don't like it." Vegeta grumbled loudly. "But you are so addictive." He whispered in your ear, nibbling softly at the flesh.

His hand traced your hip as he gently said it. "I hate and love the way you make me feel."

Vegeta's strong arms hoisted you up so you were clinging onto him. You wrapped your legs around his torso and you felt your back slam against the wall.

You began to have flashbacks to the other day when you felt his lips slam onto yours.

You tossed kisses back and forth, Vegeta squeezing your butt tightly, making you squeak in surprise.

"Look at you." He smirked. "The strongest female warrior becoming putty in the Prince's hands." He chuckled as his mouth grazed your neck.

"Vegeta. I-I-"

His head poked up from your neck as he glanced into your eyes curiously.

As much of an ass he was, he still cared about you. He wanted to make sure you were safe and taken care of.

"What is it woman?"

You looked down.

"Vegeta, I love you."

His eyes went wide and cheeks went red. This was the first time either of you said it since...well, you know.

You kissed his nose and grabbed his face, squishing his cheeks.

You giggled softly as the Prince set you down.

"I think we should talk." You suggested and grabbed his hand. You pulled him to your bed where you sat down together.

"Vegeta I know this thing...you know the whole you and I bonding...it isn't easy for you." You started. "And no matter what decision you make, I don't want our relationship to change. You mean too much to me."

Vegeta grunted in response and pulled his hand away from yours. You fiddled with your ring in your lap as you looked up at him.

His profile was lovely. He was really so stunning and gorgeous. You could tell by the look on his face he was thinking.

Vegeta was silent. He could feel your eyes on him, but didn't give you the satisfaction of acknowledging it.

You took your tail and wrapped it around Vegeta's. You felt sparks fly through you and your heart pumped. He jumped at first, but then his body slowly fell into a calm state.

"Stupid woman."

"Stupid man."

Vegeta looked at you with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

"Oh. Yeah?"

"Yeah." You stuck your tongue out at him.

His eyes flickered between your eyes and your stuck out tongue before he let out a big sigh.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Y/N." Your name rolled off his tongue as he covered his face with his hands.

You scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around him. You placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"It will be okay."

"Miss Y/N! Miss Y/N! Your presence has been requested in the throne room! Oh! And my Prince, yours too!"

You and Vegeta made panicked eye contact and rushed down the halls towards the throne room.

Once you reached your destination, you knew things weren't good by the look on the King's face.

"Prince Vegeta, Y/N...I'm afraid planet Vegeta is under attack. We need you both to get out there as soon as possible."

Vegeta clenched his fists and turned to his father. "It's Frieza. Isn't it?"

"Yes."

"That foul bastard!" He screamed, grabbing your arm and running out into the halls.

He picked you up and flew to the space pods. "I'm sending you away. You know, last time Frieza was here was a year ago. He said he would destroy the planet."

You began to fight against him. "I am not a coward! I can take care of myself, Vegeta! Come the fuck on! I'll kill Frieza myself!" You used all your strength to try and pry yourself free from him, but he had already forcefully shoved you into a pod and closed the door.

Vegeta pointed to a scouter laying next to you and then pointed up to his own.

You picked it up, tears streaming down your face.

The pod started to fly off as you heard Vegeta over your scouter. "I can't let you die. We had no time to fight over it."

"Vegeta. Why??"

You heard the sound of static come over your scouter, knowing that Vegeta's somehow had been destroyed.

You started to sob, wondering just exactly where Vegeta was sending you.

[k-writer1998]

Who Said Love Was Easy (3/12)

      There are many different kinds of people who come and go from your life. Some will stay constant and sturdy like a river, growing alongside you, others will come like a whirlwind who wreaks havoc and leaves just as quickly, then there is everything in between. In this twisted maze of connections, that is where our story begins. A steadfast boy, a girl with a past, a little bit of alcohol, mistakes, and some love. Where can you go wrong with that?

angsty fluff

w.c: 2.1k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

      Summer lectures, design deadlines and no focus because of that brat. It’s been three years, they shouldn’t have this effect on me anymore… Even if I tell myself that, that woman has such a strong oppressive energy. I always feel like I’m suffocating. Ugh just thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach. Needing a change of pace I decided to walk to the pub to wait for Changbin. The bustle of the city was a comforting white noise to drown out my thoughts since I really needed to just… not think for a bit. That is, until I felt the hair on the back of my neck stand. With this new sense of anxiety I finally noticed the black car, not so subtly, following me. Luckily the street the pub was on was too narrow for cars and it was entering my line of sight. I checked my phone reflection as a man got out and of course it would be him. Picking up my pace to get away did nothing as he still caught me and forced me to turn around, keeping a hold on my wrist.

“Why are you running away from me?”

“I don’t know, maybe because some random car was following me, a girl who is alone, for over five minutes?” I reply sarcastically.

“I’ve been calling you but you weren’t answering.”

“Call? I probably blocked your number. Look, I’m not interested in pretending to rekindle some broken bond.”

“Y/n… don’t be like this you know I-”

“Don’t pull the remorseful brother act, Youngho-oppa. If you really cared you would have looked for me after I left,” I spat.

      Unlike his sister Younghee who openly showed her indifference, not hearing from him was worse than being thrown out. Youngho was the only one in the entire family that showed me a smidge of kindness, let alone acknowledging my presence when no one else did. It wasn’t until a year after being kicked out did I learn I was nothing more than a stray puppy he played with cause he was bored.

“Don’t be like this y/n. Mom hasn’t been in the right state of mind since dad died. She didn’t mean to hurt you and she’s trying to make it up to you,” he coaxed, pulling me in to stop the wandering ears from hearing.

“That’s a load of shit and you know it. That woman never liked me the minute I was brought in and she made sure everyone but dad knew that. Will she give back the shares to dad’s company that are rightfully mine?”

      His eyebrow twitched and I caught the crack in his facade. Every single one of them are selfish creatures and they will never betray their true nature, a fact I learned the hard way and will not underestimate again.

“Y/n things are sensitive now as is, you can’t just ask for something like that. Why would you want something like those? Aren’t you studying design?”

“Wow, someone did their research. If design doesn’t work I should at least have the shares to give me some support. It was a decent portion wasn’t it?” I pushed.

“Stop acting like a child there are bigger things going on so just cooperate. The faster you do the less we have to see each other. Do you think I have time to chase you around like this?”

      And his true color shows. By now his hold on my arm had turned into a vice grip and it hurt like hell but I couldn’t show weakness now, they don’t get to win after everything.

“Ha… I can’t believe I waited six months to hear from you like you actually cared. Sometimes you really are worse than your mother.”

      My head snapped to the side in an instant and it was numb for a moment before the stinging settled in. I knew something of this caliber would happen… for his own reasons he hated his mother. Who knew it would tick him off that much? Before either of us could come back from the shock, a hand broke the hold on my wrist and my line of sight was covered by someone’s back. The mystery person shielded me from my brother and I immediately recognized the ring on their pinky. Should I be glad or panicked that Jeongin’s here?

“Sorry I’m late, is this person bothering you?”

“Oh? Is this your boyfriend?” Youngho smirked, eyeing him up and down.

“No.” I roll my eyes, trying my best to mask my unease. Jeongin doesn’t need to be dragged into my family drama. I tug at his hand lightly and he turned to look back at me, “Come on, we’re late meeting the others. This conversation is over anyways.”

      Once in front of the pub, Jeongin turned to examine my face. Seeing such concern in his eyes I couldn’t stop the surge of emotion that came over me as tears started to fall.

“Are you okay?! You must’ve been scared…” he panicked and I shook my head.

“Thank you,” I sniffed.

“You still got hit… I can’t believe-”

“It’s whatever.” This was not the first time someone from that family raised their hand to me, I expected nothing less… and I did purposefully push his buttons. “I deserved it. I provoked him.”

      In an instant my gaze that was trained on the ground was forced to meet his piercing eyes by the gentle force of his hand nudging my chin. He had leaned in so that we were eye level and my brain nearly short circuited at his close proximity. Well that’s one way to stop tears.

“It doesn’t matter if you provoked him, that shouldn’t have happened y/n. No one deserves that, do you understand?”

      It surprised me how serious he was about this. I don’t know if it was the butterflies from how close he was or the unsettling feeling of being… perceived, but I couldn’t think. Instead I numbly nodded, my eyes never leaving his as if under a spell. The corner of his lips quirked up at my response before he ushered me into the pub and sat me in my usual seat. He tossed a bag to Chan, that I hadn’t noticed he had, before disappearing to the back. Jeongin re-emerged with some ice and placed it on my face causing me to wince a bit. Taking it from his hands, he reached for my arm but I instinctively pulled away.

“Is your arm okay?”

“It’s fine. Probably slightly bruised at most but nothing serious.”

      He eyed me suspiciously but before he could say anything Jaehyung barged over, worry written all over his face.

“Y/n! What happened?!”

“It’s nothing,” I smiled. He immediately whirled on Jeongin and gave him a pointed look.

“I caught some guy bothering her when I was out buying Chan-hyung some Advil and he… slapped her,” he responded guiltily. 

      I don’t know if I should admire or be annoyed by his honesty. I tiredly rubbed my forehead, already feeling the anger rolling off of Jaehyung. 

“Don’t feel guilty Jeongin,” I smiled before turning to Jaehyung. “Thanks for getting mad for me but it’s not worth it Jaehyung-oppa.”

“Was it your fam-”

“Yes,” I cut him off, but that was more than enough for Jeongin to put the pieces together. Not wanting to hear anything from either of them I add, “I’m fine, really. Plus Changbin is coming so don’t worry okay?”

“Not worry? You usually end up home drunk and always make bad decisions with him.”

“Ninety-six percent of the time it’s me, bad decisions help relieve stress you know,” I smile like a child trying not to get in trouble.

      Jaehyung ruffled my hair with a resigned sigh before telling me not to come home too drunk and went off. Jeongin kept me company but I had to ignore his eyes that were filled with questions I didn’t want to answer. Luckily Changbin came soon after but his eyes zeroed in on my cheek and was ready to square up with Jeongin before I intervened.

"Nope. I'll explain later, let's go." I gave him no time to argue as I waved Jeongin goodbye and sped to the door.

      Knowing that I’ve come from a deprived childhood, Changbin’s lenient with me and my impulses. That being said, tonight is a total bust. Instead of somewhere fun, we’re at some restaurant because as Changbin puts it, he needs to “gage my recklessness” since I “act up more” when my family is involved.

“I ordered some food… and alcohol since I promised to take you out to have fun but before that, what the hell happened? Who hit you? Wh-”

“Are you going to keep going or do you actually want me to answer the questions?”

“Obviously answer them you smart ass. ”

“Long story short it was Youngho and the guy from the pub basically saved me more or less.”

      His eyes softened at the mention of my brother. The first six months I was kicked out I stayed with Changbin until Hyorin, my mom's best friend who had been acting like an actual guardian for me since my dad died, helped me find an affordable place. He’s the one who saw the emotional toll it took when the one person I believed to be on my side threw me away. 

“I would’ve thought he would be too busy with company stuff to come out, especially since he is under a microscope right now with the chairman’s health issues and all.”

“That’s why wicked stepmother and her children are on my tail. They’re trying to exploit our relationship, tied by nothing more than my father’s blood, to try to win grandma over cause she is fond of me and has a big share.” I ran an annoyed hand through my hair before whining, “so can we go clubbing?”

“Yeah… no. I’ll be having to pry off some guy from trying to take you home because you’re wasted.”

“No. That only happened like… four? times…”

“Four times too many. But drink your fill here and let Mr. Neighbor know that you’re staying at mine. If I bring you home drop dead drunk again I think he would actually kill me.”

“You’re probably right,” I laugh before shooting a quick text to Jaehyung. Once I put my phone down, the waitress came in with our order and I pointed at Changbin, “no talking about the unholy trinity or I’m leaving to go be unsupervised.”

“Yes, yes. I spoil you too much,” he sighs before adding, “how is the chairman anyways?”

“Grandpa still wants to believe I don’t exist and last I heard from grandma was that his heart isn’t in good health. It’s hard to treat when they’re trying to hide it from the company. Everyone knows he’s sick but not how bad,” I respond flatly.

“... Okay one question and I’ll stop. Who are the other runner ups other than… you know who?”

      I downed my second shot in annoyance. Changbin and Jaehyung could be good friends if they let it happen, they’re both so nosy… I could care less about company drama though so I tell him. Not like I’ll get in trouble.

“I- Are you asking me to leave?”

“Oh come on, if they’re this desperate that means there are other strong candidates right?”

“Fine.” I glare, shoving some food in my mouth before answering, “They’re looking into my cousin Wooin and a long-term director Jihyo. They have high performance with successful big projects under their belt in addition to having the favor of various important people.”

“Okay, so what’s this about finding Loverboy? It’s been what? A year with no contact?”

“Of course I do. That was the first time I formed a fat crush on a guy I just met,” I roll my eyes. “It’s the guy you wanted to beat up, Jeongin. It’s been a few months but he’s been working at Jaehyung’s pub.”

      I don’t know if it was the alcohol doing its job but I started to get sentimental as I thought back to our first meeting. That night was during a relatively low point in my life and I was losing touch with the world around me, but he was the first thing I found interest in after a long time. As if my brain wanted to torture me, the image of his face mere inches from mine popped back into my mind.

“Did something already happen?! Your face is red!”

“Shut up. He still has a girl he likes so no.”

“Still?” Changbin whistles in surprise, “That’s what I call devotion. Does he remember you?”

“Nope. To make matters… interesting, she works there too and has a crush on Jaehyung-oppa.”

“Wait that cute new waitress? On that old man? And I thought you had problems,” he laughs.

[spaceskam]

Happy birthday @insidious-intent! I love and adore you and I hope your day was fantastic. Sending good vibes via fic ❤️

ao3

.1.

"Seriously?"

"Seriously what?"

"Seriously, why do you think that is legal? I just have questions and concerns."

Alex snorted a laugh, wiping his face dry. He was drenched in sweat after a run and clearly hadn’t expected Isobel to be there. But she was and she made a show of appreciating his physique. It had him blushing and she took pride in that.

"Concerns for who, exactly?" he asked, leading the way into his house.

"Every single person you pass," Isobel insisted, "You probably caused a whole block of people to swoon, caused a couple guys to question their sexuality."

"Okay," Alex laughed, shaking his head, "That's not a thing. I'm gross and sweaty."

"Bold of you to assume that's not exactly what we all need to get us going," Isobel said. Alex continued laughing it off, but he couldn’t hide the fact that he clearly liked hearing it. She figured he didn’t get gased up often enough. Which, in itself, was wild.

He deserved it.

.2.

Kyle did not deserve to be swatted while holding a beer and he stood by that.

"And I thought you were bad at keeping the heart eyes under control when you looked at Liz," Jenna scolded. Kyle scoffed in defense.

"What are you talking about, I have no heart eyes happening right now."

"Oh, sorry, it's 'fuck me' eyes and they're targeted at your best friend," Jenna corrected. Kyle rolled his eyes but didn't really look away from where Alex was bent over the pool table. It wasn't his fault. He was straight, not blind.

"They aren't 'fuck me' eyes. I can appreciate without wanting to touch," Kyle said simply. Jenna hummed her disbelief.

“Does he know it’s looking and not touching?”

“Yeah, he does,” Kyle confirmed, taking another sip of his beer as he watched Alex basically pose while leaning against the pool table. Alex always seemed to be posing, always knowing how to make his body look appealing. Kyle occasionally wanted lessons.

“To each their own, I guess,” Jenna laughed. He let her think what she wanted.

His best friend was a hot piece of ass, someone needed acknowledge that. Who better than him?

.3.

"Since when does Alex write?"

"Since always, what do you mean?"

Max read over the poem that Alex had written for the fiftieth time. He'd left his notebook and, out of curiosity, Max had peered into it. He couldn't help but feel like he was reading some of the most beautiful words he'd ever read.

"I've never read anything like this from a guy who doesn't talk about it," Max said. The poem was about tortured, undying dedication, packed with beautiful metaphors Max could've never come up with and the sheer love that jumped off the page could make even him swoon. "This is beautiful. Like, seriously. I didn't realize he was so talented."

"I can't tell if you're jealous or infatuated," Liz laughed. Max just read over the words again. He didn't really know which one it was either.

“You think I could get him to read this to me?” he asked. Liz gave him a look. “To hear his inflection.”

“Uh-huh,” Liz said, eyeing him, “I guess I could ask.”

Max nodded, re-reading the poem. He really needed to see how Alex looked when he read it.

For the inflection.

.4.

"Thank you."

"No worries."

"No, seriously, thank you."

Liz looked up to Alex in more appreciation than she had in awhile. Honestly, it'd been too long. He'd done so much for them, for her, and she'd never thanked him for it.

"You're a good person and I'm sorry I haven't acknowledged that lately," Liz added. Alex shifted in slight discomfort at the blatant praise, "So thank you."

"You'd do the same for me," Alex responded, shrugging his shoulder. The problem was she wasn't so sure she had proved that to be true.

"Yeah. I will now," she promised, “You sacrificed your family for us. I’ve got a lifetime to repay you for that.” Alex shook his head.

“You are my family,” he corrected, “Blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, right?”

Liz huffed a laugh, feeling tears build up in her eyes. How the hell had she gone so long not noticing he felt that way? She saw him as family, but on that level? It was hard to gauge. But she supposed it was a process. 

“I love you, Alex. I’ve got your back.”

“And I’ve got yours.”

She hoped she could keep that promise.

.5.

Michael bit down on his thumb and tried to remember how to breathe.

"Stop staring at me like that," Alex laughed as he looked up from his keyboard. God, his laugh was beautiful. He was beautiful. Whatever Michael had done to lead up to this moment, listening to him play music and sing and laugh all while happy and shirtless and beautiful, was absolutely worth all the bullshit that came before it.

"How am I supposed to stop staring at you?" he asked, ignoring the way Alex avoided eye contact, "You're beautiful."

"Stop," he said, shaking his head while his cheeks slowly began to turn red, "I'm not."

"Sorry, have you looked at yourself? I could fill an entire notebook with an itemized list of all the beautiful things about you," Michael insisted. Then he actually considered it. It sounded like a great past time.

"I'm just me," Alex said.

"Exactly,” Michael insisted, “It’s you. And you’re incredible.”

Alex shook his head again, dismissing it. He wondered how hard it would be to convince him that he was perfect. Probably insanely difficult. It was Alex. If there was anyone in the world who was more stubborn than Michael himself, it was Alex.

He was determined to make him believe it.

.+1.

Alex stared at his shiny new degree.

After working his ass off dismantling his family’s alien killing legacy and finishing up his run in the Air Force and going to school again, he’d finally finished them all up within the span of a few months. He felt like he could relax and actually put work into getting a normal job. One that he wanted.

He’d gotten a degree in music education and, while he knew it was extremely difficult to get a job as a music teacher in schools, he had high hopes and had already had a few interviews lined up. Two of them were pretty far outside of Roswell and in not-so-great areas, but it felt worth it. Making a positive impact on kids who needed it most? That was the bare minimum of what he wanted. He could School of Rock that shit.

Alex had gone a very long time without realizing he never truly felt accomplished. But now? He was stable. He had a house, a dog, a degree, a boyfriend, a job interview. He was going places. What he wanted mattered.

When he looked up from the degree, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror that was mounted in the bedroom at Michael’s request. He never quite understood the purpose of it other than his boyfriend’s weird interest in himself, but right now he understood it a little more.

He could see himself now for what he was. He didn’t look like his father anymore. He looked carefree and happy and hopeful in all the right ways. It took too long, but this is what he’d wanted to be for so long. This is what he was chasing. He was here.

And for the first time, he saw himself as beautiful.

[dazed--xx]

Useless

Request: Can you do a one shot were you fight and he says something that really hurt you bc you were insecure about that and then you act kinda distant and idk can it fluff and angst pretty please 🥺 I love your blog 💜(tae)

Summary:  “Maybe I wanted to have some time to myself for a change? Did you ever think about that? Maybe I didn’t want some clingy leach attached to my hip at every second of the fucking day... I finally wanted to be able to fucking breathe. Like damn I can see why your parents didn’t want you... you're fucking useless....” The foul insults like venom. Useless... He thinks you're useless...

Member: Taehyung x Idol!reader

Word Count: 2,276

Genre: Angst, light smut, light fluff

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF ABUSE

A/N: Shout out to the reader who requested my first Tae one shot, hope you enjoy. I got some big things planned to come out so i hope yall follow make sure you check out my masterlist for other stories 

(Not my gif)

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“Y/N!!” Tae shouts from the living room finally acknowledging my presence for the first time today. Waking me from a dead sleep, that falling feeling startling. “Y/N!!!” His voice booming. Sluggishly, WHAT TIME IS IT?? 1:54 am the alarm clock reads I scream into the pillow and make my wake to the living room. The bright light blinding, Tae on the couch with Jungkook. “Yes?” the annoyance in my tone evident. “We’re hungry can you make us something please?” THE FUCKING NERVE!!!! I roll my eyes “Did you speak to me for the last 16 hours?” confusion creeping onto his face at my passive aggressive attitude. Jungkook’s face contorts obviously uncomfortable. “I was just asking you to make us food, no need to be a bitch about it ill just order out” He snaps back “and by the way if you have something to fucking say then say it I don’t appreciate the off handed comments especially when you could have come to me as well and speak to me..” his eyes roll, Jungkook eyeing the door “WELL!.... this has been......fun. I'm gonna head out. Sorry Y/N didn’t mean to upset you” I smile at his friendliness. “Goodnight Jungkookie, I'll see you next time okay I'm sorry to make you feel uncomfortable.” I escort him out the door.  

Tae’s eyes fuming as I turn around. “Look what you fucking did! You made him leave all because of you’re stupid fucking attitude!” He shouts, throwing his controller on the ground smashing it. “You couldn’t just say you didn’t fucking feel like it instead of pushing my friend out the fucking door” fear creeping up in my body. Me and Tae have fought before but he’s never raised his voice like this. He’s never been THIS angry before. “Tae, I’m sorry but I was sleeping and-” “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I GIVE A FUCK ABOUT WHAT YOU WERE DOING?” his terrifying voice booming. Tears sting my eyes all my anger from the day boiling over as the confession spews out of my mouth “NO YOU DON’T BECAUSE YOU NEVER FUCKING CARE ABOUT WHAT THE FUCK I DO TODAY WAS A CLEAR INDICATION OF THAT NO? YOU HAVE A FUCKING DAY OFF AND YOU LITERALLY SPEND IT IGNORING ME AND PLAYING YOUR STUPID ASS GAME. I ASK YOU TO TAKE A WALK WITH ME AND YOURE TOO TIRED. I ASK YOU TO TAKE A NAP WITH ME YOU WANT TO BE UP. SO, WHAT THE FUCK IS IT HUH? SO, WHEN I FINALLY, FINALLY FALL ASLEEP YOU WANT TO FUCKING WAKE ME UP TO ASK ME TO COOK FOR YOU AND JUNGKOOK?????????”  

“Maybe I wanted to have some time to myself for a change? Did you ever think about that? Maybe I didn’t want some clingy leach attached to my hip at every second of the fucking day... I finally wanted to be able to fucking breathe. Like damn I can see why your parents didn’t want you... you're fucking useless....” The foul insults like venom. Useless... He thinks you're useless...

*10 YEARS AGO,*

“Y/N! YOU RUINED IT! IT WAS MY FAVORITE AND YOU BROKE IT!!” My older sister shouts, as her hand harshly cracks along my cheek. Tears stream down my face, “I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to...” I whimper. The mirror on the ground shattered like my heart, my sisters rough hand shoves me to my knees. Glass stabbing at my skin like a thousand knives, her hand in my hair. “CLEAN IT NOW!!!” Her shouting alerts my mother. “Y/S/N? What's going on?” My mother's soft voice asks as she comes into the room. “Tsk....Y/N what did you do now?” Annoyance in her tone, her eyes rolling. “She broke my mirror. She broke my favorite mirror....she's so useless mom why is she here she needs to go.” My sister whined.  

“Let her go, Y/N pick this up and come to my room...” the tone dark. Fear taking a hold of my chest. Whilst cleaning the mirror my sisters torture did not end glass penetrated my hand every time, she shoved me over as I held each shard with care. Dread fills me as the mirror is completely clean. Slowly, I trek to my mother's room my 12-year-old frame trembling as I stand in front of my mother's door heart beating threatening to burst out of my chest.  

“Y/N LETS GO NOW” my mother shouts from the other side of the door. The beating didn’t last too long the pain only temporary; the lecture lasted a lifetime the pain forever. “Why do you have to be so damn useless huh? It's like you enjoy ruining our lives, you never seem to do anything right and I'm so god damn tired of fucking covering for you. SO, you need to go, I don’t care where it is you go but it's not here. I want you out by tomorrow and don’t take none of that expensive shit that’s mine”. I was out within the hour, terrified of what may come if I lasted until tomorrow. Rushing out of the door at 3 am with all of my essential belongings in hand, with no destination in sight.  

Months go by living all around Seoul at parks, bus stations, motels when I get really lucky. Singing in the street to come up with a few dollars to eat. Some days I didn’t make enough and I would slip items in my clothes, becoming quite the “artist”.  One day, I’m singing in front of a small store front 2 gentlemen dressed lavishly listening intently phone recording as my verse comes to an end. Their eyes burning holes into me as a blush creeps up onto my face. The crowd disperses at the top of my hat a business card BIG HIT ENTERTAINMENT. Confusion strikes me turning the card over. A small hand written note and address on the back ‘TOMORROW 2 PM’. My heart races WHAT????

*TRAINEE DAYS*

“Y/N-AH STOP BEING SO DAMN USELESS AND PLEASE HIT THE BEAT ON THE RIGHT COUNT!” My groups dance lead, Hye-un shouts. Fury in her eyes, “Seriously we probably would have debuted by now if you could do something right like you can't sing, you can't dance...what can you do huh?? Stand there? Remember you’re only here because Namjoon oppa felt bad for you.” her words cut like knives. “Namjoon oppa thinks I'm good..” I mutter weakly, under my breathe as tears slide down my face. Every girl laughs, “No, honestly no one does like come on, you can't see it, He felt bad for you idiot. You were homeless and needed a place to go.” Jisoo snaps. Her words breaking my heart, grabbing my bag and dashing toward the door. They won't get to see me cry...not like that... not for them.  

Running down the hallway, hunting for the farthest studio away from them to release my demons. THUD! “Oof DUDE WATCH WHERE YO-” The loud voice cut off “LOOK IM NOT IN THE FUCKING MOOD MOVE” I shout as I stand up to run past the stranger. “Damn... Okay... rude... are you okay though you look like you’re crying” He says as I wipe my eyes getting a clear view of the man that I've collided with. A blush instantly creeping on my face as the familiar face becomes recognizable and my head shoots down, Taehyung oppa. All the anger in me fades quickly as the god like man shifted. My voice is shaky, “IM SO SORRY, I wasn’t paying attention. I'm just having a rough morning. I should get going, I'm so sorry... I..Um...S-Sorry” He chuckles “Ha, you said that already...3 times in fact” a small giggle escapes my lips.

“So, I know you don’t know me or anything but I’m a great listener. Maybe you can tell me what's going on, it might help” He says sincerely. Hesitant, I look down “um....-” “Look, don’t worry if you don’t want to physically tell me give me your number you can text it to me then that way you and I don’t have to be face to face and it can help you to get more out that sound good?” I nod as he pulls out his phone and asks for mine. His number in my phone as Tae<3. A smile creeps up onto my face as he pulls me into a hug. My body melts into his like I've known him for years. “Okay so I'll talk to you later” A smile on his face as he walks off.  

Blushing, as realization dawns on me as I pull my phone out to text him.  

*PRESENT*  

From there I told Tae everything, my fears, my past, insecurities. Useless....that's all I’ve ever been. My sobs no longer able to be held back as they barrel their way through my chest. “F-fin-ne then Tae you won't have to worry about me being in your way anymore” I whisper as I turn around and walk into the bedroom Tae and I share. Locking the door behind me I curl up in bed and let the tears take over me. Mama never loved you, the girls never wanted you to debut with them, they made you go solo because of how useless the group thought you were, You're so fucking useless to Tae. I ruin fucking everything I'm sorry Tae. The tears putting you to sleep eventually.  

TAE’S POV  

FUCK!! FUCK!! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! FUCK!! FUCK! YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!! WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO???????!!!!!! WHAT THE FUCK?!!! The regret fills my mind as the bedroom door locks in my face. Her sobs filling the apartment, my heart cracking at the sound. Sitting outside of the door listening to the love of my life cry herself to sleep in our bedroom, alone, because of me. Baby I'm so sorry...you know I never would mean anything like that, but the words never come out.  

Nothing can physically come out as my heart pounds in my throat terrified of what tomorrow could bring. Would she leave? NO! Tae don’t think like that Y/N loves you and she’ll know you could never mean that...right? Tears streaming down my face at the thought. You fucked up...you fucking hurt her in one of the worst fucking ways possible. There's no way she's going to forgive you. Trudging back to the couch as I let the tears consume me.  

Y/N’S POV

The sun beaming in my eyes, burning, as I blink myself awake. Eyes sore, Tae’s words resting at the front of my mind. Making my way to the restroom, the second the door is open Tae is in front of me on his knees. “Baby, I’m an asshole okay but I love you and-and I'm sorry” He pleads as he wraps his arms around my waist head resting against my stomach. Disgust filling me, “Move, I have to use the restroom” Tae’s saddened figure retreats back to the living room defeated. Tears stream down my face as the hot water from the shower soaks me. My pain evident, Tae shuffling outside of the bathroom door every few minutes whispering to himself before disappearing back into the living room.  

Placing one of my tank tops and sweat pants on, I make my way out of the bathroom. Tae rushing behind me as I walk back into the bed room. The saddened puppy looks still on his face. His regret in his eyes, his face is puffy and red proof he’s been crying over his words. The sight weakening my angry state as he reaches for my face and looks into my eyes caressing my cheek. His gaze drifting to my lips, slowly leaning forward he brushes his lips against mine looking for some form of consent. My eyes close as he presses forward and kisses me with so much emotion, his tongue delving in to my mouth and tasting me. A slight moan released from his lips as he presses me against the bedroom door slamming it shut. He lifts my right leg over his waist pulling me closer, as lips slide down to my neck. The way his tongue attacks my neck, drawing a puddle in my panties, his member grinding against me hard as a rock. The need for more grows inside me as Tae pulls his lips off of my body as he whispers in my ear his voice shaky and terrified “I-I’m so s-sorry, I love you and you’re not useless. I didn’t mean it. I could never mean it, you’re perfect I swear. And I'm such an ass for saying something like that there’s no excuse for what I said but please, okay, I'm BEGGING you don’t leave me.”  

A tear slides down my face as he shakes, crying into my ear wrapping his arms around my waist. Tae’s sadness washing away any animosity toward him at his words. “Baby... you hurt me but I'd never leave you. You're all I have and I'm never giving you up” I hug him back. His smile against my neck. “I don’t deserve you.....I'm sorry” I nod and run my hands through his hair. “SO! Were you just being a tease or are you gonna finish what you started?” I ask seductively as I put Tae’s hand in my pants, a smirk creeps onto his face.  

“Oh, Kitten, I have so many plans for us today”  

[mumshmandz]

Rediscovering Sparks Once Lost

After making some major decisions about my life in the last few months, I was able to make some room to go back to some of the constant love affairs in my life -- movies, music and books.

Currently, I'm in the middle of reading about 4 books dispersed in the categories of business, management, self-development and leadership (since I'm currently running a startup).

I'm also currently watching a lot of movies that influenced me growing up which includes some greats like A Few Good Men, The Green Mile, Rashomon, Ran, etc. And discovering a lot really well-made movies that make a cinephile's heart tickle.

But what I'm really stoked about is that I'm (finally) able to binge my all time fave show, Saturday Night Live. I've rediscovered my love for comedy. And somehow I realized why I loved this show in the first place -- they're just damn good at their craft. (Salute to Lorne Michaels for making an establishment that stands for 40 years and running, and able to run DESPITE the pandemic.)

For those who know me personally, I absolutely freaking love comedy. From standup to sketch, from blue to observational to farce -- I love it. For me, comedians (especially the REALLY good ones) are one of the most intelligent people in the world. They observe. They acknowledge life's uglies -- and somehow they're able to spin it to something that's really, well.. FUNNY.

So what I did was (unashamedly) stan some of the cast members that really made an impression (no pun intended there) on me -- Kristen Wiig, Bill Hader, Fred Armisen, Seth Myers & Jason Sudeikis (which many say make up the best cast of SNL) -- and their work AFTER their SNL days.

And (gasp), I found just found their material to be really, really good. So good, it surpassed what they have done on their stint on the show which is, by the way, already brilliant.

Watched The Skeleton Twins which featured Bill Hader and Kristen Wiig and absolutely loved it. Also saw The Bridemaids with Wiig in the lead. Currently really loving Wiig's versatility.

Documentary Now is such a freaking amazing production - making mockumentaries out of ACTUAL documentaries. Not everyone will appreciate this, but if you try to get the elements together and compare them with the original, it's just anal. Produced by Seth Myers, Fred Armisen & Bill Hader -- it's just pure brilliance. Add to that, John Mulaney -- currently loving his standup and who, I think, is one heck of a writer -- also wrote for them which is just ahhhh... (in a good way).

Barry (Bill Hader) is just something I absolutely love Where do you get an idea that a hitman enrolls in an acting class? The idea is just absurd it's unbelievable and amazing at the same time. The whole series is a conflict in itself. When it will climax? We don't know. But this I know -- Can't wait for season 3!!! Agggh.

And now, I'm about to subscribe to Apple TV because I want to watch Ted Lasso with Jason Sudeikis at the helm. Watched a couple of previews and I can see this is another well-written and thought of series.

I can go on and on and if I don't stop, this won't end. So I have to stop myself. Starting --- NOW. (See what I did there? Barry fans react.)

--

So what's the take away from all the non-sense I've written? It feels good to rediscover previous love affairs that somehow ignited that spark of creativity and life in you. And by love affairs, I didn't mean that LITERALLY (By the way, that's dangerous, especially if you're married like me. Haha).

Honestly, I've been living in a bubble for the past few years. And it's just nice to be able to experience LIFE. And to be inspired by great individuals who were able to achieve success -- NOT BY BEING POPULAR -- but by really working their ass off in their craft and making it. Most of these people I've mentioned gained recognition during their mid-30s and now enjoying the fruit of their labors in their 40s.

It's never too late. There was someone who kept on telling me that I'm already too old to do something. I know it was a reverse psychology jedi thing. But honestly, reverse psychology doesn't work --- unless you're a 2 year old. And truth is, why reverse when you can just say it straight to one's face (just saying).

Here's my tip for you, dear reader --Rediscover the sparks that you once lost. Being able to see people that you're able to relate to and able to learn from helps you see that the world is BIG. And the possibilities are endless. I'm not an American, but darn, they knew what they were talking about when they say "Chase that American dream."

For me it's these. But for you it might be something different. I haven't even talked about food. Hahaha. But then again, there's another blog for that.

[asukaskerian]

montly word count - september

TOTAL : 4 737. the adhd has been particularly "ooh a butterfly" this month. :/

POSTED: nothing!

WIP -Madara/Tobirama/Izuna ABO sequel (3 158 words, which are mostly a third-time rewrite shreds of oldeer writing stitched back together and of which i will discard 299. this fic is *fighting me,* guys.) -Ichigo/Grimmjow/Orihime cuddle drugs fic chapter 4! (1 204 words. gasp.) -Ichigo/Grimmjow/Fraccion ABO fic chapter ...4? (310 words. i know exactly what happens in it except for a SMALL part i can't visualize, which means nothing else gets written until i'm through. aaagh.) -Ichigo/Orihime/Grimmjow/Nelliel suburban swingers OT4 (124 words)

-- Tobirama ABO -- "You know, Madara was quite intrigued by the thought of us sharing a heat!" Each muscle Tobirama had managed to loosen tightened with a little twang. He craned his head, squinting his suspicion. "Is this another example of you misconstruing things as badly as possible to piss people off? "Do I do that?" Tobirama didn't even have to say anything, just throw a side-look. "Haha, no, we just got onto the topic of... Well. My future husbands." The kind way he had said that stung. Not 'our' future husbands, the way the Uzumaki brood had been from the start. Tobirama had been the one to call it off, to immediately write the letter pulling him out of the arrangement. Hearing Hashirama acknowledge it so easily, though... It really was over, wasn't it. They'd all known Tobirama could get found out at any time. They had known, and Tobirama had still let himself get used to the future hinted at in their letters. Meio-hime and Mito-hime were so damned smart, liked asking themselves the same questions about chakra, about seals, about the nature of time, about the universe. There had been so many 'when we're married, let's collaborate on this or that'. Buraki-hime was a rare water-natured Uzumaki. Even the others -- Tobirama hadn't truly disliked a single one of them, and he knew he was no easy man to get along with. It was gone now. A fat lot of good it had done him, telling himself his optimism was of the cautious kind and so it was okay to let himself get attached. At least he'd never met most of them in person. He was mostly losing a possibility. -- GrimmIchiHime cuddle drugs fic -- "Anything else, O lord and master, enslaver of my magnificent plush ass?" "Right now your ass is my ass, so shut up. ... And stop feeling yourself up." "Who said I was feeling myself up," Kon replied, chortling, as if Ichigo didn't know him by now, didn't know he was giving his own derriere a friendly squeeze. 'As a joke'. Uh huh. "I find bruises on there again, you're gonna regret it." Ichigo sighed in the phone. Ugh, he was a chump. "Also, get some hot water bottles. We've got like a dozen in the clinic." "Sir, yes sir. Um, what for?" "The boyfriend has really cold feet," Ichigo replied dryly. "Alright, waiting for you. Don't have too much fun with the body." "Aw, but does it count as too much if I--" Ichigo hung up. When he looked up he looked straight into Ishida's glasses. "The... boyfriend," the asshole repeated delicately. Ichigo flushed a dull red. Inoue was craning her neck to stare at him curiously, and Chad had his eyebrows up. "It's a private joke with Kon, shut up." Everyone's eyebrows went up at once, it was like they'd practiced. Ichigo flushed hotter. "No, seriously, guys, shut up." The comforter lump stirred. Ichigo stalked back to it and caught the nearest -- that was probably a shoulder, ok, good -- and gave it a firm, businessline squeeze to derail their guest before he could wake enough to join in on the nope session. -- Ichig/Grimm/fraccion ABO -- Somewhere deep inside Grimmjow actually felt like they were safe here, didn't he. Somewhere past the logical "of course they'll try shit, the best we can get is an ally to deter them for a while and maybe cause a distraction while we escape again and that's actually pretty good" he had actually put in some faith that nothing could touch them at Kurosaki's. He let his guard down so far that pulling it back up leaves him reeling, lagging with unexpected betrayal. Like it's not fair, like they're cheating, but what the fuck did he expect. He scans the shinigami he can see, lightning-quick noting down hesitating faces, backfooted stances, shaking hands amidst the crowd. Some of them regret being there. Good. They're gonna regret it worse in a minute. Nakeem and Edrad can force their way out targeting those, if their heats don't slow them down too much. Di Roy could, but won't, already snarling. Shawlong and Yylfordt are gonna sell their lives dearly to anyone who gets to them, but they're fucked. Yylfordt especially. Two broken legs. He's good as gone. They're good as gone. Grimmjow's gonna kill as many of the shinigami as he can.