#and also time talk about how love is actually so mundane and silly and kind of gross but thats what makes it so powerful actualy

[pieplease]

Everyday I listen to the Amazing Devil, I become more rabid. Why be a person when you can embody whatevers happening in The Unwanted Animal??

[secretsofblackthornhall]

Magnus to Alec

Dear delectable muffin of love,

I hope this perfumed letter finds you well, and that you and R and M are having an excellent time in your exotic journey to…well, I believe the term you used was “upstate.” I have heard legends of this Upstate, but never did I know that my family would see for themselves its mountains, its twee farm markets, its River of the Son of Hud.

More to the point, I hope the kids are enjoying their visit with Grandma, and I hope you are referring to Maryse as “Grandma” as often as possible because I enjoy the face she makes when we do. On a less pleasant but more urgent note, I hope you’ve had a chance to talk with Luke about the Cohort/Idris stuff.

But do not tire your beautiful hands with a written reply. I will be heading to this “Upstate” myself to join you later this afternoon, as I am relieved to report that the business with the Blackthorn kids’ cursed house is more or less resolved. Although it was touch and go, let me tell you.

I don’t think I even showed you the note Jem sent, which said, “Emma and Julian are trying not to bother you about their house, and that is very nice of them, but unlike them, I feel absolutely no compunction about bothering you, and so this is me, now, in this note, bothering you. We are in need of a warlock and you are the best one I know for this. We would all really appreciate your help.”

As is often the case, I was both mildly annoyed and mildly impressed with Jem, who managed to be both very kind and also to remind me that I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa and will rush to their aid when I can. Because I am a sucker when it comes to him and Tessa, I wrote back quickly saying I would come.

I know what you’re thinking: “How could Tessa need a warlock when she is a warlock?” But different warlocks have different expertises, as you know, and while Jem was flattering me that I was the best choice, the reality is that I have dealt with a lot more curses than Tessa. That’s what comes of spending the past decades hiring your services out to any miscreants who come by, instead of more intelligently living a calm life as a magic researcher in the Spiral Labyrinth. Tessa always was the smartest of us.

Anyway, I must give Emma and Julian credit. I expected to arrive and find them banging the cursed objects against one another or something, but they had set up a decent enough protective circle and even found a spell. It was an old, kind of generic spell that I have found to rarely be of much use with actual curses in the modern day, but still.

Rather stupidly I set up a basic workaday curse-breaking circle of my own, and gave it a try. “Stupidly” because I had forgotten who did the curse in the first place. Your worst ancestor, Benedict Lightwood, all-around demon enthusiast and dilettante necromancer. How in bed with demons was Benedict? He literally died of demon pox — which if you do not know, because you are beautifully pure, my Alec — is a sexually transmitted demon disease.

But I forgot that in the moment, so I was surprised when the curse put up an impressive resistance. It writhed and thrashed and struck out, like Max being lowered into a bath. The cursed objects were all glowing, kind of neon green, where they were tied to the magic, and eventually I realized I was going to have to carefully unknot each object from the curse, one at a time.

I managed the flask, the dagger, and one of the candlesticks (don’t ask me to explain how THAT happens), but after that I was stuck.

It’s not a great look for a warlock to strike a big magic pose and then nothing happens. I am sure I looked ridiculous, like a mundane magician who couldn’t understand why the rabbit wasn’t coming out of the hat. Julian and Emma are very polite and only waited patiently but I felt quite silly.

And then I lost all my focus temporarily because the door opened and Kit walked in. He sort of looked around at the scene and finally said, “Professor Plum in the library with the candlestick, I see.”

“Purple is always an appropriate color for a warlock,” I said. “It is the decorative color of magic.”

Emma, of course, said, “Your magic is blue,” because she is an inveterate smartass.

“Maybe he meant me,” said Julian. “I’m wearing a purple hoodie. Also because it is the decorative color of magic,” he added with a nod in my direction, which I appreciated.

“Maybe you could put the objects on a purple tablecloth instead of a white one,” Kit said, and while he was talking he walked out to get a closer look.

And when he got close to the circle, Alec, I felt the strangest sensation. A feeling of…power, I suppose, kind of humming in Kit. You know the way your body kind of vibrates when there’s a really really low sound? That rumbling feeling? It was like that, but silent. I’ve never had that experience any of the times I’ve seen Kit before. I could also tell that Kit didn’t feel anything unusual. Or if he did, he was surprisingly casual about it.

So I suggested he come join us around the circle and add his focus to the magic. “Especially since Jem and Tessa have snuck off somewhere rather than helping out with this round.”

“They’re out in the garden with Mina,” Kit said, a little defensively.

I redirected everyone’s attention to the objects and established a somewhat souped-up version of my go-to curse breaker. I went for the other candlestick and BANG. No resistance anymore! There was a big burst of blue and all the knots of magic tying the objects to the curse broke into pieces.

Everyone blinked a bunch. Eventually I said something like, “Well, that was more what I was hoping for. I guess four people made the difference.”

I checked. The curse seemed…gone. I was actually a little shaken. I haven’t mentioned it to Tessa and Jem, because I don’t want to make a big deal of it, but I think it worked because of Kit. Not because we needed a fourth person. Something is going on with him, some magic that is totally outside his awareness. I assume it has something to do with being a descendant of the First Heir, but I’ve never been an expert on that kind of faerie enchantment. (And do burn this letter, after you get it — very few of us know about Kit being the First Heir, and it’s best if we keep it that way.)

It makes me sad to think of it. Kit is a good kid who deserves a good, ordinary life. I know that’s what Jem and Tessa want for him, more than anything, after the chaos that was his growing up. But I am not sure he will have a choice in the matter. Fae may not let him choose.

Julian reached out and took hold of the flask. He held it for a moment, frowning.

“What?” said Emma.

“Nothing,” Julian said. He looked up at me. “Is that it? No more curse?”

“No more curse,” I said. “I hope.”

And then down from the ceiling drifted Rupert the Ghost. I never met Rupert Blackthorn when he was alive. I don’t know what to think of him. On the one hand, he seems to have been an innocent who was in the wrong place at the wrong time, a spirit trapped in a house he never lived in because of evil he never knew about while he lived. On the other hand, he met Tatiana Lightwood and thought that lady seems like marriage material, so there must have been something weird going on with him.

Rupert had been hovering and he descended until he was right above the table. He was staring at something on it.

“What is it, Rupert?” said Emma. “What are you looking at?”

Kit followed his gaze and started pushing the objects out of the way. “It’s the ring,” he said.

Emma said, “What ring?”

Indeed, what ring? There wasn’t a ring among the cursed objects. But there was a ring on the table now. Kit picked it up. It was a silver ring, etched with a design of thorns and set with a black stone.

“Blackthorn family ring?” Kit said.

“It’s not how family rings usually look,” Emma said.

“Wedding band?” said Kit.

“Shadowhunters don’t use wedding rings,” said Emma, but Julian had that thoughtful look he gets.

“I am bound here by a silver band,” he said softly.

“Shadowhunters can exchange wedding rings,” I said. “They just aren’t expected to. But they can if they want.”

Whatever it was, it was Rupert’s. He had followed Kit’s hand as it picked up the ring, and now he was reaching out for it with a thin ghostly hand. He wrapped it around the ring, which did absolutely nothing since he’s a ghost – Kit just kind of held it there for him. Then his eyes closed (Rupert’s, I mean) and he got this expression on his face of relief and gratitude and peace, and he just…faded out, right there. Just slowly vanished and was gone. No more Rupert. On to hopefully not being reunited with his wife, since she was also his jailer for over a hundred years.

“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Emma said quietly.

“That’s for the best,” I said. “He was never supposed to be here at all.”

“Well, Rupert, if you can hear me,” said Emma, “it was nice being haunted by you.”

“Five stars,” said Kit solemnly, putting the ring back on the table. “Would be haunted again.”

And all the candles went out in the room at once. Which, if it was Rupert, was a nice touch. Though it may have just been a draft.

We all filed out of the room quietly. “It’s different,” Julian said. He was looking around at the hallway. “I can feel it already.”

I could feel it as well. There was a lightness that had not been there. A kind of pleasant hominess that a good house conveys and that had always been absent from Blackthorn Hall in the time I’ve known it. It’s hard to describe, but all at once it felt like Julian and Emma’s home, in a way it hadn’t before. I’ve always known it as a forbidding place, and then as a hideous ruin, but for the first time I thought, this was a place the Blackthorns could fill with joy.

And I’m certain they will.

See you very soon, my love. I shall kiss you until a toddler forces us apart to pay attention to him. So plan for a kiss of about 30-60 seconds, based on previous experience. But I wish, as always, that it could be endless.

Love,

Magnus

[geppettospuppet]

pino affection hcs<3

a/n: two hc posts in a day bc i'm insane I JUST LOVE HIM SO MUCH!! ok hope u sillies enjoy

ok remember how i said in my last post pinocchio would be gentle?

OWIRJALDJJRAAAAHAHAHHEJAJAJA *EATING SHEETMETAL*

yeah so anyway that 100% includes how he interacts with his lover

actually, pino would go out of his way to learn to become more gentle and empathetic for the person he developes feelings for (once he learns what empathy is ofc)

because he isn't very vocal, don't expect him to say "i love you" too often

i mean HE WILL!! but with the way his mind works, he'd rather just show you that he loves you through actions

one of the biggest things for p is quality time

i've seen some people on here have the reader read stories to pino and oh my gosh i absolutely love the idea

not only would he listen to you read stories to him, but he would also just be a great listener in general

whether you're telling him about your day or ranting about a pet peeve

he will always listen to you intently because well!!! he loves you and you could never annoy him

not that pino gets annoyed often... unless it's at gemini...

another thing i can see that pretty boy doing is kiss his partner periodically without warning

and he will do it EVERYWHERE

be prepared for surprise kisses

but pino isn't the type to be aggressive about it at all. it's more like... you'll be doing something mundane and p will just come up and kiss you softly on your head/hand/cheek/lips/ect

tbh this is giving me a oneshot idea

he also loves to cuddle, but was super hesitant to do it at first because he's so heavy that he's nervous you'll just feel uncomfortable:(

but over time i can def see him crawling into bed with you and snuggling after you gave him a talk about it

"pino you never make me uncomfortable when you cuddle with me!!! now get in bed!!!" and he just obeys and the topic never gets brought up again

also, i hope you're not freaked out by people staring at you

because tbh... pino would absolutely stare at you intently over everything you do

but the boy is just so enamored by you and your beauty HE JUST NEEDS TO LOOK AT YOU ALL THE TIME!!!!

im sorry he's kind of a weirdo </3

also? because he's learning what it means to be human what better way to do it than to just watch it happen in real time!! and from his favorite person at that!!!

another thing i can see p doing is giving you random things he finds while adventuring

sometimes they're really cool things like extra parts from a giant puppet he fought!!

other times... it would be trash

but nevertheless, you still accept it because it truly is the thought that counts

and if it's cool to him and brings him joy, it brings you joy too!!

overall this boy just adores you and and would give you the world if he could. you're just so delicate and precious to him💞

[velvetcloxds]

ALWAYS THE BRIDESMAID | J.H.

pairing: jasper hale x cullen!reader

word count: 2k

warning: friends in love but the one doesn't know it yet

summary: bella and edward's wedding day has you feeling somewhat envious of their love story

You felt awful, upset with your heart for the way it ached, for the way it shouted shots of anger, of envy, it was not at all what you'd expect of it on such a happy day. Bella and Edward danced below on the makeshift dance floor the vampires had very reluctantly created while you sat crossed-legged on the roof of the Cullen mansion- grateful for the darkness for allowing you to get lost despite the endless eyes that would search for you.

You had a great love for your brother and his new mate, happy that despite years, decades, of such grim, such overpowering sadness he finally allowed himself such mundane emotions of happiness. Maybe that was what had your heart drawing in upon itself. You didn't think yourself possible of such selfishness, being tormented by pity, by jealousy that reformed your decayed cells in a way that made you nauseous. You hated how your insides twisted, begged yourself, and willed yourself to remember the joy that swerved about your lost soul while planning this day.

But you knew where it came from, what it meant. Those were your flowers that cascaded down from the trees, your dress that flowed from Bella's life-kissed figure, your flower petals that spread towards your altar, your day, your dream. Yet you weren't there, it was everything you wanted and yet it belonged to them, you gave it to them, your dream and now you sit alone, rewatching it from the outside.

“Careful,” someone warned from behind you and were it not a warning you’d heard countless times before you’d not have been able to pin its owner down so quickly, the blond vampire swinging down from a branch and sinking down beside you, giving a soft sigh as he adjusted his suit jacket, about as unhappy with the fancy ordeal as you were, for very different reasons. “You might think yourself into a mess you can’t get out of,” he explained and you almost smiled, habitually moving closer to him, letting your shoulders touch as he looked down to search for the reason for your foul mood.

“You know, Jas, I was trying to hide away in peace,” you reprimanded, though he didn’t believe you, your emotions always betraying you, shifting as soon as he was close, it was as if your heart, despite all the wrong it did you, felt safest with Jasper, freely giving away your secrets to him and his senses.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” he argued, he was speaking in that charming, kind tone, you’d be silly thinking he reserved it just for you when really you were just most accustomed to it, prompting it from him much like he prompted calmness from you, a natural reaction despite your unnatural, supernatural existence. “You thought I came here for you?” you didn’t need to answer, he knew you did, and you knew it was true even if he was trying to pretend otherwise. “Very presumptuous.”

“Oh, you know me, always thinking about myself,” your words had a bite to them, thinking the present situation was the perfect time to remind yourself and your heart that no matter how much you wished it was, this wasn’t your day, and you had no right to wish it was.

“Hey now,” he breathed, disapproving of his words being turned into a real reprimand when really he was trying to talk you out of your head, talk you up from that hole you’d dug yourself into, help you crawl back to the surface to enjoy the day, it was a happy day after all, for everyone, or at least it was supposed to be. “What’s messing with your heart today?” you didn’t want to admit it, your selfish feelings, but you also knew that if anyone would be able to help you make sense of it, it would be your best friend, he’d not judge you for your short-sighted and very much unplanned pity party.

“Actually, I think it’s the other way around, think it’s messing with me,” you sighed, stealing a quick glance at him, sure the sight of him all dressed up and perfect would’ve made you blush had the blood still traveled through your veins, instead you managed a little hum, head tilting to take him in before looking back down to the newlyweds. “Can you feel what they’re feeling?” a puzzling question, leaving much to the imagination since you were sure they felt more than just one thing on a day like today, but somehow, as he always does, Jasper knew what you meant.

“That’s not what you want to ask me,” you hated that he could make that statement so casually, so surely, you also didn’t hate it all, you merely hoped he’d answer the real question without making you ask again. “Go on then,” he pushed, you wanted to roll your eyes, lightly shoving your shoulder against his instead, not missing the way his lips begged to tilt into a smile. “Ask me.”

“Can you feel their love?” he scoffed, unsatisfied, you were nearly there, almost at the point, it was dancing on the tip of your tongue, begging for release but you were being stubborn, he decided to be kind.

“I can’t feel it, per sé, it’s not just one single emotion, doesn’t just add up to one thing you can express, as complicated as love is, feeling it is much the same.” His pause was a courtesy, one he offered due to the disappointment that dipped into the air, flooded from you, and surrounded you just as your emotions often do for as entirely as you feel everything, you felt this in your soul, another stab at your heart, another knife in your icy coffin of life. “I can’t make you feel it either, can’t show you what it’s like,” he breathed and you couldn’t deny him the little nod you managed, not even thinking before you leaned your head against his shoulder, one hand snaking around his arm, other hand searching for his fingers and claiming them in yours as if they were your own.  “I would if I could, darling, you know that, don’t you?”

“Of course, I do,” you squeezed his arm lightly, not wanting him to think he’d disappointed you somehow simply by not being able to do the impossible, it’s just that living as you do, being what you are, the concept of impossible seemed so unspecified, so mundane. You had always longed for it, wished for it at night, dreamed of it during every moment of the day, you’d wanted more than anything to feel loved in all possible meanings of the word- yet it seemed more likely that Jasper could create a counterfeit version of it with his gift than someone truly feeling that way for you, about you. “Maybe someday I could feel it, really feel it,” you nearly whispered, you willed the words to sound hopeful, but even if your voice could pretend, your heart certainly couldn’t.

“I’m almost certain that you will,” Jasper promised and you hummed when he kissed the top of your head, your eyes not leaving the sight it had been trained on, the couple in question finally moving away from the dancefloor and by the smell of it, Edward had a howling surprise in store for his new wife.

“Do you think it’ll be worth it?”

“What?”

“Waiting,” you explained and you hadn’t noticed a rather lovely looking, yet slightly terrifyingly quiet Alice creeping up to join the pair of you. “Do you think he’ll be worth waiting for?”

“I certainly think so,” Alice sang, already making herself comfortable next to you, taking hold of your arm and gently forcing you onto her shoulder instead, pleased when the action earned her a little smile from your previously pouting lips. “Think you might not be waiting as long as you think,” she shrugged and you missed her eyes as they locked with Jasper’s, who was already looking at her, hope drowning his features as he fought his brows from furrowing.

“Don’t give me too much hope, Ali,” you said, happy that you had a distraction, her bracelets perfect to fiddle with as she let you move her hand into your lap, you were calming down, feelings simmered but uncertainty lingering, yet you were safe with your comfort people and though the love you shared with your family wasn’t what your heart wished for, it did fill most of the emptiness. “I love you guys,” you mumbled, smiling as Alice proceeded to pull you into a proper hug.

“We love you too,” Alice agreed and Jasper wished the moment would pass because Alice was many things but subtle was not one of them and the way she was looking at him was impossible to miss, even if you weren’t yourself right now. “Some more than others.”

“Oh, I know,” you agreed and when you pulled away to look at them you made sure to give Jasper an extra long smile, he was after all the one to try and make everything better first, even if it didn’t exactly work. “Jasper over here is a real softy for his best friend,” you giggled at that, loving the instant recoil at the words as he pulled you right back to him, being sure to hide the way he melted around you, so perfect, he found it awfully rude of his body to react so willingly to you when the chances of being with you were so slim, so impossible, but then again, just like you, he didn’t think impossible was all that big of an obstacle to overcome.

“That I am, darling,” he purred and with one last squeeze he let you go, already prepared to swoop you right off the roof and onto the dancefloor to take your mind off all that could be clouding it and remind your heart that love was already right there waiting for it, and he would be ready to show you- to tell you more about love and just how familiar he was with the feeling when you and your heart were ready.

“I won’t mind always being the bridesmaid if you’re the one walking down the aisle beside me,” you informed him, allowing him to guide you down from your hiding place, Alice made sure to leave a little space between herself and you two before following you down.

“You won’t always be the bridesmaid,” Jasper noted, not at all surprised when he looked down to where you were climbing the branches to find your shoes had long been abandoned, free hand trying to keep your dress out of the way.

“How do you know?” you demanded once settled on the ground, giving in to his fiddling as he tried to make your dress right, tilting his head slightly as he dusted the purple material of any dirt it might have picked up on your little adventure away from everyone.

“I have a feeling,” he was unnervingly charming as he smirked at you, happy that he could feel your nerves ease, all the horrid feelings that led him to search for you now masked by a sense of content and comfort- happiness, because of him. “Trust me,” you nodded, giving in to the mood of the party as you started dragging him to the very middle of the crowd, pleased that the song had changed pace and the bride and groom were away enjoying themselves in solace.

“I always do.” And you did, you knew him well enough to know he’d always tell the truth, always be honest, always bare his heart to yours, at least when he was ready to do so too.

Twilight taglist: @saintlike78 @scarlet-prey @cupids-crystals @venomsvl @esposamultifandom @itzliyalupin @alexxavicry @iambuckysbae @axen-gers @cauliflowertree

[fortheloveofwonderland]

🎵 But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like you’ve been here before? - Pompeii by Bastille

Hi can i request and spencer reader for scarlets concert please

# milestone celebrations

Hello lovely Anon! Kind of a rewrite of 15.04 Saturday I guess. Artistic liberties were taken in that the Jeid confession never happened (like we all wish it hadn’t). Also the way Spencer talks about Pompeii is actually how the lead singer of Bastille described the meaning of the song in an interview.

I am still taking song lyric requests for my milestone celebration 🎵

Pompeii

Gif does not depict the appearance of the reader.

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - Spencer Reid is stuck in a rut, bored by his mundane life. But one conversation with a stranger prompts his whole life to change. And he knows he’ll never be bored again.

CW - slightly miserable Spencer, therapists, a lot of talk of Mount Vesuvius eruption and death, Spencer and his uncomfortable info dumps, self depreciating Spencer, one swear, mostly silliness and cute dog interactions.

WC - 4.3k

Spencer Reid was, for a lack of a better word, bored. Unfortunately for him, given his incredibly high IQ and his brain's need for constant stimulation, it was easy for him to feel this way. 

For a long time now he’d felt like he was living a Groundhog Day. His life became a series of tedious events that seemed to recur over and over again in the exact same way. 

His days started with coffee and the newspaper, whether he was at home or away on a case. He showered, towel dried his errant hair and dressed in some version of the same outfit everyday. 

Then he went to work, taking the metro at the same time everyday he was in DC or jumping into one of the SUV’s, always in the back seat, if they were away. 

The cases always seemed much the same as each other these days. People were being murdered, it was their jobs to stop the unsub. 

Time and time again Spencer found himself in front of a map working the geographic profile or he was utilised if there was a lot of literature as he was the only one who could get through it fast enough. 

He spoke to Garica over the phone, sometimes watched interrogations through the two-way glass, rarely conducted them. And when they had a suspect, he got on his Kevlar and piled into the SUV with the rest of the team. 

Whether they stopped the unsub before it was too late or not meant very little to him these days. 

And then he’d crawl into bed, sometimes his own, sometimes a random hotel bed in whatever town the team found themselves in. It didn’t much matter, they were all equally as lonely. 

And Spencer was just bored of it all. 

When he closed his eyes, it almost felt as if nothing had changed at all; like he’d been here before. The monotony of his days was getting him down. His impressive brain wasn’t being used to its full capacity and he felt it withering away inside of his skull. 

He didn’t feel challenged in any aspect of his life. His job had grown stale and maybe if he had something else to keep his mind occupied it might be ok. But climbing into an empty bed was by far the most soul destroying part of this perpetual deja vu loop he’d ended up in. 

How was he supposed to be optimistic when life kept giving him reasons not to be? 

Along with the boredom, Spencer started spiralling into a vicious pit of misery. It’s not that he was necessarily depressed, but he certainly wasn’t happy. 

He became snappy with the people he called his friends. He was easily irritable, quick to anger. Everyone had noticed. It didn't take a profiler to see Spencer wasn’t himself. 

But much like they always did, they buried their heads in the sand, busy enough with their own lives so they didn’t have time to worry about the youngest member of their team. It was a pattern he’d grown used to, another mundane facet of Spencer’s life. They cared, he knew that, but maybe they didn’t care enough. 

His days off were always the same too. 

He spent the mornings with coffee and a newspaper, showered and dressed before leaving his apartment. The home he’d once loved, his fortress of solitude, had grown so impossibly lonely that he couldn’t bear to spend more time there than he had to. 

Those four walls in which he’d lived for close to two decades now seemed hell bent on provoking him, reminding him how isolated he’d become. 

So he went out, to coffee shops, bookstores and museums; always in that order. He hated the rut he’d found himself in but he couldn’t for the life of him snap himself out of it. As much as he hated it, repetition was something he was good at. 

But something had to change. He had to find a way to banish the grey clouds that rolled over the hills, shrouding him in a constant darkness. 

And that was how Spencer Reid ended up on his day office in a therapist's office. 

His first three sessions went exactly the same, a constant theme in his life. His therapist would ask him what brought him here and what he hoped to achieve; in response Spencer would pretty much clam up instantly. 

In their fourth session, things played out a little differently. 

Doctor Santiago didn’t have her notebook on her lap when he entered her office like she had the other three times. Her hands were laced in her lap, her glasses pushed up on top of her head. Her expression was less amicable than usual. 

“Spencer,” she spoke before he’d even gotten comfortable. “I don’t mean to sound callous, but is it really worth wasting your money and what precious free time you have, coming here when you aren’t going to talk about why you’re here?” 

He looked at his shoes, one of which was tapping against the carpet, then he looked at his hands. He didn’t look back at Doctor Santiago when he spoke. 

“I’ve been reading a lot about Mount Versuvius and Pompeii.” He drummed his fingers against his thigh in time with his foots rhythmic tapping, 

“Ok…” Doctor Santiago frowned a little but hoped if she didn’t say too much so he would continue. 

“All those people who were just going about their days, lost in their own vices and then boom, it’s all over just like that. Posed forever in time as the dust settles around them. Do you know that approximately sixteen thousand people died in Pompeii?” He glanced up at her, his own expression contorted in confusion. 

“I didn’t know that.” The Doctor shook her head. “So you’ve been thinking about death?”

“No.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. “Although I suppose that would be the more obvious trail of thought. But once you get to know me you’ll realise my trails of thought are anything but obvious.” 

“I’m not sure I understand where you’re going with this then.” 

Spencer huffed out a breath, frustrated even though he was used to people never understanding him. 

“I’ve been thinking about stasis.” He mused and he watched as his therapist's brow furrowed. “Just imagine it, how boring must it have been, emotionally speaking, in the aftermath? Just stuck in the same position for hundreds and hundreds of years.” 

Doctor Santiago’s brow was furrowed so deeply her eyebrows were practically in her eye sockets. 

“But they were dead.” She stated the obvious.

“Logically I know that. But for some reason I just can’t help thinking about it. I keep having imaginary conversations in my head as if I were one of those people. Stuck in some kind of like, tragic death pose and having a conversation with the other people also resided to the same fate.” He frowned himself now as he spoke it out loud. 

It sounded even more ridiculous hearing himself say it. Was he really so bored that these were the kind of thoughts he spent his time nurturing? 

The doctor leant forward with her knees on her elbows, it was her job to quickly make assumptions about the things her patients told her and to read between the lines. 

“You feel like one of those people. Stuck in time while the rest of the world continues to move around you.” She stated it is a fact, didn’t ask. 

Spencer winced a little at her summation but nodded nonetheless. 

“People always see my IQ as a blessing, but actually a lot of the time it’s more like a curse. Boredom is so much easier for me to fall into, if my brain’s not being stimulated enough.” He ran his fingers over the crease in his slacks, hoping it would work to distract him from talking about himself. 

“And you feel like you aren’t getting enough stimulation?” She narrowed her eyes on him. 

“Not anymore. Not for a long time.” He agreed. “I love my job but it’s just not challenging me anymore. I feel like…let’s say the BAU is a city, like Pompeii. I used to love that city, but now it just feels like all the walls are tumbling down and I’ve been left covered in rubble, left in this monotonous death pose for all of eternity.” 

God that sounds morbid and very over dramatic, what is wrong with me? 

“You’re stuck in a rut.” Doctor Santiago didn’t seem perturbed, she’d probably heard a lot worse. 

“Undoubtedly.” He agreed. 

“You’re going to do something for me today.” She sat back in her chair, a smile toying at her lips which Spencer wasn’t sure he liked. “You’re going to go somewhere you wouldn’t ordinarily go, not a bookstore, not a museum. Somewhere new for Spencer Reid.” 

“That’s all?” He frowned sceptically. 

“No,” Santiago chuckled with a shake of her head. “I want you to have one conversation with someone you don’t know. Don’t talk about work, or your routine. Definitely don’t talk about Pompeii or death poses.” 

“See, here’s the thing with that,” Spencer swallowed. “In case it wasn’t clear, I am exceptionally socially awkward. I can’t just talk to a stranger. How about I come up with some conversation topics and next week we can discuss them and then-”

“Spencer,” she cut him off. “Today. It’s time to break you out of your rut, ok?” 

Goddamnit, why did I ever come here? 

***

The park was just about the least Spencer Reid place to hang out that there was, aside from maybe the beach, and he felt inherently uncomfortable. 

He was a middle aged man in a suit jacket and shirt, wandering a park on a Saturday afternoon, alone. He actually found himself willing his cell phone to ring and being called into work rather than go through with this. 

One conversation with someone he didn’t know. It was at its core a simple enough task. At least it would be for most people, people unlike Spencer who didn’t feel paralysed at the thought of talking to strangers. 

It was different at work, where part of his job was to talk to people all the time. He had some sort of authority in those situations, his presence was helping catch a killer. In the park he was out in the wild, thrown to the wolves. He was so far out of his comfort zone it made him feel nauseous. 

But for the first time in months, he wasn’t bored. And maybe Doctor Santiago had been onto something. 

He scanned the area as he meandered down the tree lined path that cut through the park, in search of someone who looked normal enough for him to strike up a conversation with. Most people weren’t alone, with their families, partners or kids or both. The only other people he noticed on their own didn’t look what Spencer would deem as normal.

He spent almost an hour wandering with the bright DC sunshine beaming down on him. Eventually he started to feel sweat gathering at the base of his neck and at his temples and ambled to the nearest bench. 

He shucked off his jacket and rolled his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. Feeling dejected and slightly fed up, he pulled his book on Mount Vesuvius out of his satchel and started reading it for approximately the seventy-sixth time. 

When Spencer was reading, his brain blocked off everything else that wasn’t directly on the pages in front of him. He couldn’t hear the sound of people chatting and laughing in the park, he could no longer feel the heat from the sun. He was lost somewhere in Pompeii. 

It was because of this that he didn’t notice the large, fluffy mutt running directly at him, or hear its owner calling for him to stop. It wasn’t until he felt something heavy pressing against his knees and his book being snuffled out of the way by a wet nose, that he looked up from the pages. 

The dog with its piercing blue eyes and a soft, fuzzy face stared at him, paws on either of Spencer’s knees and its tongue hanging dopily out its mouth. Spencer stared at the mutt for a moment or two, somewhat perplexed, before it dribbled on Spencer’s slacks and Spencer groaned in frustration.

“Gross,” He grumbled, giving the dog a soft push. “Get down.” 

The dog dropped back to the grass, but continued staring at Spencer while he found a handkerchief in his satchel and wiped his pants. 

“Beau! Beau, what are you doing?” A panted voice caused Spencer’s eyes to snap away from the dog and up to a woman running his way.

Spencer felt his chest tighten as he watched the grace with which you chased after the errant dog. 

“I’m so sorry.” You fought to catch your breath as you stopped in front of him and the dog. “He’s so much faster than me.” 

“He dribbles.” Spencer tucked the soiled handkerchief away.

“Yeah, dogs will do that.” You laughed, clipping the leash to the husky’s collar. 

“I could have been allergic.” Spencer stood up from the bench.

“Allergic to dogs?” You cocked a curious eyebrow at him.

“Dog saliva. A study showed that dog saliva contains at least twelve different types of allergy-causing protein bands.” He told you, stuffing his hands in pockets.

“Right, odd thing to say to someone you just met, but sure.” You shook your head.

“It was reported that a seventy year old woman had a severe infection of bacterium called capnocytophaga canimorsus, which likely came from her Italian Greyhound’s saliva.” He continued despite himself. 

“When was the last time you talked to an actual human being?” You pulled a face, patting Beau’s fuzzy head and causing him to mewl happily. 

“I talk to human being’s all the time.” He frowned, not understanding the question. 

“About dog saliva?” 

“No.” He shook his head. “Never about dog saliva actually.”

“Maybe don’t make a habit of it, it's kinda weird.” Your lip started to slowly curl up into a small smile. 

“Duly noted.” He shrugged awkwardly. “Does, uh…would you say this counted as a conversation?” 

Your brows knitted together, almost immediately wiping the smile from your face. 

“What would you class as a conversation?” 

“An informal talk between two or more people, in which thoughts, feelings and ideas are expressed.” He quoted the dictionary definition of the term. 

“Well, this seemed pretty informal. I shared my thoughts about you coming across as weird, as you shared your ideas about my dog’s saliva and my feelings towards it are discomfort. Seems like a conversation.” 

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, I’m sorry.” He sighed to himself. “My therapist wanted me to have one conversation with one person I don’t know today and I guess I achieved that so please, don’t feel like you need to stand here and humour me any longer.” 

“I’m your homework?” The smile spread back to your lips.

“I mean, that makes it sound clinical.” 

“This was kinda clinical.” You chuckled and Spencer’s heart felt lighter than air at that sound. “Why don’t we try again. Hi, I’m Y/N and this is my dog Beau.” 

Beau barked happily at the sound of his name, his giant front paws tapping on the grass in excitement.

“Spencer.” He nodded with a tight lipped smile. “I’m sorry if I offended you or your dog.” 

“Luckily for you, neither of us are very easily offended.” You smirked, sidling past him and sitting down on the bench. 

Spencer faced you with a soft frown. 

“What are you doing?” 

“Sitting, isn’t that obvious?” You crossed one leg over the other and unclipped Beau’s leash again. “Off you go boy.”

Beau did as he was told and joyfully bounded away, but made sure to stay in your field of vision. Spencer looked between you and the husky as he started exploring trees with the use of his nose.

“You aren’t worried he won’t come back?”

“He’s very well trained. And besides, I have his favourite treats.” You patted your pocket. 

“Fair enough.” Spencer nodded and reached down for his things. “Well it was nice to meet you I guess. Have a good day.” 

“Where are you going?” You stopped him before he could walk away. 

“I, uh, was going to leave you to it?” He cradled the book and his satchel under one arm.

“You said you needed to have a conversation, so I sat down so we could have one.” You chuckled again and it was quickly becoming Spencer’s favourite sound. 

“Oh. Oh. Really? You want to have a conversation with me? After I talked about the bacteria in dog saliva?” 

“Yeah, I don’t really understand it either. But you seem…” You trailed off, unable to find the right word.

“Lonely? Creepy? Pathetic?” He tried, again causing you to laugh.

“Oddly endearing.” You corrected him. 

It wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever been called, and he’d take what he could get. He slid back down to the bench, ensuring to keep a comfortable amount of space between you and placed his bag and book in his lap. 

“Uh, just as a forewarning, I am not very good at small talk.” Spencer raked one hand through his hair. 

“Oh don’t worry, I already gathered that.” You glanced away from him towards Beau briefly before looking back at him. “So, can I ask why your therapist is making you have conversations with strangers?” 

“I’m stuck in a rut, I suppose.” He confessed, finding it strange how easy it was to want to open up to you. “My job, my personal life; it’s the same thing day in and day out. I’m just a little bored of it all.” 

“What do you do?” 

“If it’s ok with you, I’d rather not talk about it. I’m trying not to focus all of my energy, all of my personality into what I do for a living.” He rolled his lip between his teeth. 

“Ok.” You shrugged. “What are you reading?”

Spencer looked down at the hardback in his lap and turned it over to display the cover. He ran his fingers over it remembering Doctor Santiago’s specific instructions. 

Definitely don’t talk about Pompeii or death poses.

“It’s about Pompeii and the eruption of Mount Vesuvius.” He blurted out. 

“Oh, just some light and cheery reading then.” You laughed and if you kept doing that Spencer may very well fall in love with you. 

“It’s…meditative in a way.” He shrugged. “I was told

I shouldn’t talk about it.” 

“Your therapist told you topics of conversation?” You raised an inquisitive eyebrow. 

“More like she told me topics of conversations to avoid. Specifically, my thoughts on the boredom that must have been felt by these people trapped in these perpetual death poses after the eruption.” He mentally scalded himself as the words tumbled out his mouth. “Yet here I am, talking about it anyway.” 

You glared at him, noting your dog nearby out of the corner of your eye, but focusing on Spencer. He drummed his fingers awkwardly on the book cover. 

“Wow,” you inhaled sharply. “That’s gotta be one of the most depressing things I’ve ever heard.” 

“Probably why I was advised not to talk about it.” He sighed. 

“You’re a pretty dark dude.” 

“In my line of work it’s hard not to be.” He shrugged, he’d already gone against one thing Santiago told him not to do, he may as well go for broke. “I’m an FBI Agent. A profiler. I use psychology to track down serial killers.” 

Your expression didn’t change much, something which surprised him. You quickly glanced over at Beau again who was now making friends with a much smaller dog, before looking back at him. 

“That’s the same thing day in and day out?” You frowned.

“Not physically but mentally I guess. I, uh, I’m pretty smart…no that’s not true, I’m a certified genius. And that means I can grow bored easily. I guess I need a higher level of stimulation than most people.” He shrugged, noticing the way your eyes started to sparkle. 

“A higher level of stimulation, huh?” The smirk adorned on your lips and the way you spoke the word stimulation made his ears turn suddenly red. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled, his mouth dry and he had to look away from you. “Mental stimulation. Jesus Christ.” 

You smiled to yourself at his obvious embarrassment, enjoying the way you’d made him blush. You decided to change the subject, as much as you enjoyed it, you didn’t want to make him too uncomfortable. 

“So, a certified genius?” 

His eyes snapped back to you and he swallowed with a nod of his head. 

“Yeah.” 

“Well I can’t be very stimulating for you then? Mentally speaking of course.” You couldn’t help yourself. 

As predicted his blush spread to his cheeks and neck and he fidgeted with his bag on his lap. What you didn’t know was that he was trying to conceal the fact your words were causing a bulge in his pants he desperately wanted to hide. 

“Are you trying to fluster me?”

“Is it working?” Your eyes sparkled again. 

“Very much so.” He confessed. “For the record I find you utterly stimulating. Mentally speaking of course.” 

“Good to know.” You nodded, looking back across the park and spotting Beau staring at you. “Beau, heel!” 

The large and playful dog immediately started in your direction, bounding delightedly towards his owner. When he reached you, he slumped down on the grass by your feet and you popped a treat in his waiting mouth. 

“So usually after our walk I take Beau to a little cafe where they sell doggy cupcakes and I grab a coffee, unwind.” You pushed yourself to your feet and clipped Beau’s leash in place once again. 

“Oh, ok.” Spencer nodded, tucking his book inside his bag. “Have a nice time.” 

You narrowed your eyes on him, trying to ascertain if he was really this clueless or if it was just an act. You were quick to realise it was the former. 

“It was an invitation, dummy.” You chuckled. “Do you want to come with me? I love my dog but he’s not exactly…stimulating.” 

Spencer had to take a moment to compose himself before he stood as his legs trembled a little. He inhaled sharply and pushed himself up. 

“You want me to join you?” As asked by way of clarification. 

“Correct.” 

“Even after I talked about Pompeii and death poses?” 

“Even after that.” You nodded with a smile. 

“You don’t have to invite me. I was only strictly required to have one conversation so I think you’re off the hook now.” He slung his satchel over his shoulder before stuffing his hands in his pockets. 

“Are you really so naive that you don’t understand when a girl is asking you out?” 

“You are?” His eyes widened dramatically. 

“Yes!” You laughed. “Surely you’ve been asked out before?” 

“No, never. I mean, I didn’t know you were asking me out so maybe I have and I didn’t realise it.” 

“You are utterly precious, Spencer.” You shook your head. “Come on, let’s go. Unless you want to go back to your rut?”

“No, no. I am happy to be rut-less.” He nodded and the two of you, plus Beau, fell in step with one another. 

He let you lead him through the park, stealing glances at you as he did so. He’d never felt more outside of his comfort zone before and it was exhilarating. 

So many of his days had fallen away with nothing to show for them. Days upon days of the same, tedious tasks again and again. Nothing had changed for so long, every had felt the same, every time he closed his eyes. 

But finally things had changed. Letting you into his life would bring with it a shake up of his previously monotonous routine. 

He didn’t know it at the time, but his future would hold walks in the park whilst learning to enjoy the company of a dog. Random two am phone calls when you couldn’t sleep. Waking up next to your sleeping form, deep, meaningful debates in the middle of the night which would end up with lips silencing the other and body parts entwining. 

He had to look forward to your surprise visits to his office with baked goods and coffee. Sending flower arrangements to your work just to say he was thinking of you. Unplanned weekend trips to New York or Baltimore or wherever the two of you ended up. Spur of the moment date nights and spontaneous adventures, just you, him and Beau. 

But all of that was yet to come, the great unknown unfurling before him. All because he had one conversation with one person, and finally Spencer’s predictable life didn’t seem so predictable anymore.

Much like the citizens of Pompeii, who had to grow and adapt to their new city in the wake of the eruption that had destroyed so much, now it was his turn to embrace the new and uncharted. 

And quite honestly, he’d never been more excited. 

You glanced at him as you walked, a soft smile on your features and you boldly reached out and took hold of his hand in your free one. 

Spencer felt his chest explode at your touch and he already knew he never wanted to let you go. 

“So, tell me,” you asked as you strolled hand in hand. “Are you still bored, Spencer?” 

He couldn’t help the chuckle that left his lips and he gave your hand a soft squeeze. 

“I can honestly say, I’ve never been less bored in my entire life.” He sighed in content, slightly disbelieving how much his world could change just from a simple conversation. 

Today was one kind of Groundhog Day he would happily repeat over and over for the rest of his life.

[undertheknightwing]

WIP GAME

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigued them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Tagged by @not-so-mundane-after-all and if you don’t mind I'm gonna steal your idea since I don't have any active wips either, just ideas:

• First, obviously I'm always working on chapters. We're gonna ignore the fact that it took me two years to get to the chapter where the boys finally go on a date 🙃 but I'll give myself a pass since this is chapter 22 and I can't believe I got that far.

• Titanstober Week 4 idea that focuses on some of the horrible things done to Gar by the Chief, all seen by Rachel who somehow found herself able to wander in Gar's memories even though she hasn't been able to before and towards the end gets her answer when meeting someone very magical and powerful.

• Now to jump to another ship, I'm a sucker for re-writing episodes/scenes and I've been itching to re-write the kryptonite poisoning scenes in the s&l episode "Loyal Subjekts" to give my Jonny-Boy some hurt + comfort because it's just.. ughh.. that he didn't get sick too. He's got Kryptonian dna which means he should be affected by kryptonite. Simple as that. He's getting poisoned by kryptonite and Clark is gonna be a good dad who actually takes care of Jon for once dammit!

• Okay back to Titans, I thought about writing some kind of Christmas party fic that takes place like four years after season 4. It'd be wholesome but also bittersweet because everyone's grown up with their own lives. DickKory are living a life as normal as they can with Mar'i, Rachel is about to graduate college, and Gar's living in Metropolis with a roommate (who's also technically his co-worker) but is still the Red's champion so he's barely had time to see the Titans throughout the years. It'd be a shock to everyone that Gar actually has the time to attend the party. (that, or release the director's cut of "a very merry crossover christmas")

Now for ideas that probably won't be written but they've been stuck in my head for a while

• Since Gar is connected to life and death through the Red, I assume he can contact the afterlife and thought how emotionally damaging it'd be for Gar to visit his parents. Like I have this image of his parents afterlife being living peacefully in a cute little house where they can just enjoy each other's company, away from all the science stuff that took up their attention forever, and someday Gar shows up to finally talk to them again after so long. Heartbreaking family reunion stuff, ya know?

• In the same train as family stuff because I love it, it makes me very happy, I'm so soft for the idea of dad!Gar. It's been in my brain for years. He'd be so silly but so sweet,, I'm just in love with it 🥺💖 Anyway the idea would be Dick meeting Gar's son and being a mix of anxiety, pride, and "Oh my god I'm a grandpa and I'm not even 40". Mar'i would be super excited to have a nephew too.

• Krypto in s&l, that's all. He's Jon's dog because Jon deserves a dog.

• Jon in Wonderland au. I was obsessed with this idea, like it's all I could think about for a bit. (I have a couple drawings from the idea that I'd glady show you bestie if you ever wanna see 💙)

[toraawa]

*bouncing up & down* HERE!

☯︎☮︎♦️☆⬜ (both of em ofc)

thanks my dudette!

Yuri

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

He likes people who don't treat him like some untouchable animal. If he's not actively wanting to card you and you confront him confidently, he'll be less bothered to talk to you. On the other hand, he despises hypocrites. Yuri can find amusement in a liar floundering to avoid the truth or keep a facade, but being a hypocrite is the easiest way to earn his disfavor.

☮︎ - friendship headcanon

When he was much younger, he thought just existing and doing fun things together was all it took to be friends. Now, he believes there is no such thing as friendship — only a transactional, "we'll keep each other around and fake smile as long as it's beneficial" sort of relationship. This changes post canon after a while, though it's still very hard to earn his trust.

♦️ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Since he's only known Academia all his life and has no family or friends, one of his hobbies is listening to other students talk about the outside world. He's particularly interested in family dynamics and love between people. In the rare instances his usual sneer is absent as he walks through the halls, it spooks the shit out of anyone that meets his gaze from how intently he watches people. In truth, Yuri's just listening and gets absorbed by what they say (so he can better get under people's skin, or so he says). He also relays the interesting stuff he hears to his plants.

☆ - happy headcanon

When he's genuinely happy, feeling real joy and not the empty thrill he's drunk on, his eyes light up and his face gets so soft that no one would believe he's out there hurting people by the thousands. Of course, it's a sight that no one has ever seen — except Leo when he first made Yuri his protegee. Seeing it made him feel disturbed and, for a second, conflicted. But the more Yuri embraced Zarc's influence, the more his faces of genuine happiness and sadistic glee became indistinguishable. Post canon, it takes a lot of work and trust to get him to express genuine happiness again.

■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

Wherever Yuri's living, be it his place at Academia or a house, it is impeccably clean. He's a huge stickler about clutter and dirt, and he'll take the time out of his day to clean everything himself. Of course, there's potted plants everywhere Yuri can fit them while also making sure its aesthetically pleasing. He especially likes his room to be dark and full of plants, like a lair in a jungle.

Serena

☯ - likes/dislikes headcanon

She likes learning about how to be more socially aware, and therefore likes people who are very patient. She thinks people who stay understanding and resist getting frustrated is a sign that they are genuinely kind. On the flip side, one thing Serena hates more than anything is liars. Even if it's something she doesn't want to hear, tell it to her straight. Hiding the truth is the easiest way to make her lose trust and respect for you.

☮︎ - friendship headcanon

Seeing her friends happy and content is a major source of happiness for her. She's a very selfless friend, constantly taking the time to make sure they're okay and putting their needs and wants before her own. She does notice that no one ever does the same for her... but Serena tries not to let it bother her. Having friends who are willing to keep her around after believing in Academia's ways is more than what she deserves, or so she believes.

♦️ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

Serena has a lot of pent up curiosity, so one of her hobbies is trying out mundane things she's read or heard about. For example, if she sees a baby in a stroller, she'll try making silly faces to see if it'll actually laugh. If she finds a stray cat or dog, she'll mimic the sounds people do to beckon it closer. It embarrasses her quite a lot when others laugh at her, so she appreciates it when people just let her try new things in peace.

☆ - happy headcanon

Expressing happiness is something that she has had to work on a lot, since Academia has trained her that such emotions are unnecessary. But when she does, people often comment on how cute her smile is. Even so, Serena still feels herself holding back sometimes. A part of her feels vestiges of guilt for experiencing happiness, and she's also self-conscious about how others will judge her since she's known for being serious and no-nonsense.

■ - Bedroom/house/living quarters headcanon

Out of sheer habit, Serena's living spaces tend to be pretty barren. Her room in Academia was comfortable but very plain, and she wants to be as little trouble as possible if she's staying with someone else. If she ever got her own place, the most important aspect would be having tall windows that let her see the night sky. She also needs a night light in her bedroom due to fear of the dark (which she will never admit). Overall, she prefers someplace spacious, clean, and open enough so she doesn't feel constricted again.

[greaterstokesawareness]

Stokes Song Spotlight: "A Wizard Every Day"

this second song spotlight is brought to you by the unhinged intensity that Stokes brings to the last verse of this song every single time he performs it ヽ (°◇° )ノ and how insane i feel when he quietly gets to the line "not me.."

"A Wizard Every Day" lyrics by Liz Suggs, music by Nikko Benson

Brian Stokes Mitchell sings this song nearly every time I've seen him perform live and when he intros it, he almost always talks about how it feels like the songwriters didn't know it but they wrote it for him. I just love the notion that even as a performer, a song can feel so right that it's almost meant for you personally. I also love songs by really young people about growing older, like my nerd brain eats those up: Paul Simon wrote "Leaves That Are Green" when he was 23, Jackson Browne wrote "These Days" when he was 16! I'm not saying they always get it right, but it's such an interesting perspective especially so because those artists are touring and performing those same songs into their 70s and 80s. Even though Stokes didn't write this song, he has a real childlike enthusiasm about him and what I can only describe as "nerd energy" in interviews and between songs at his shows that juxtaposes with the more dramatic songs that he's best known for. With Wizard he kind of gets to have that career journey from old-young person to professor emeritus of singing silly songs with your eyes closed. [guys, i love him.]

Now, full disclosure this is a musical theater song that is gonna come at you right out of the gate with all of the goofiness that the genre can sometimes entail. But the feelings get big fast, because the song starts out as something that sounds like a kids song, but quickly makes you feel those big, grown-up existential dread sunday-scaries. And it hits those what-is-being-grown-up-supposed-to-feel-like-levels of introspection that somehow no one ever tells you never actually go away as you get older.

"I'm going to tell you something important. Grown-ups don't look like grown-ups on the inside either. Outside, they're big and thoughtless and they always know what they're doing. Inside, they look just like they always have. Like they did when they were your age. The truth is, there aren't any grown-ups. Not one, in the whole wide world." --Neil Gaiman, The Ocean at the End of the Lane

Anyway, guys it's just a really cute song that uses the uninhibited nature of childhood imagination to get at the pretty dark underbelly of how we use the mundanity and routine of adulthood to avoid our very real adult feelings. And I am telling you when Stokes sings it with his big voice and his song-acting™ (complete with comedy-little-kid-voice and mid-song dialogue), you won't believe it, but you are gonna feel some feelings when he gets to the end of the song and sings it with his eyes shut tight and his arms open wide.

Links:

YouTube playlist of Stokes singing the song at various appearances including a few of my own videos from concerts (x)

Links for Liz Suggs (x) (x) and Nikko Benson (x)

[seasurfacefullofclouds1]

Okay I just want to say I fucking love the FITF aesthetic. I feel like Walls was such a beautiful album but the album cover photoshoot does not do it justice at ALL. Some of the promotional stuff is nice (TMRW Magazine photoshoot was a standout) but I think there is something so inherently special about distinct album aesthetics that Walls was missing.

But Faith in the Future…she’s that girl. It’s just so cool, so visually interesting. Louis says that red is his favorite color (mine too!!) and he likes using it creatively and it worked out so well! This is a silly thing for me to be giddy about but when I saw him in concert, I was so happy that I had “cool” pictures to post on my Instagram of the actual show. Gorgeous tour visuals, the writing “Faith in the Future” video to introduce each show. I love how uniquely androgynous he looks in the Dork photoshoot. The checkerboard pattern, the merch (the obsession with space and spirals!), the popup shop!! The different fonts in the album name??? Like it’s SO COOL

I’m excited for LT3! Hoping for pastels, clock-related imagery, or 369 somewhere!

I totally agree!

The FITF aesthetic is immaculate. It’s quirky, a bit retro, with inherent references to “futuristic” themes like time travel, the space-time continuum, quantum physics, higher math, mysticism and manifestation, unstable realities and fantasy. The colors are throwbacks to 1950’s palettes (the pastel pinks, mustards, aquas, olive and pistachio greens) which is when people were actually excited for the future. The “future” had a positive, happy connotation then.

FITF is also a romantic album; I mean that the audience is allowed to transcend our mundane reality and dream about what might be. We can dream about a happy future being either alone or with a partner.

We’re looking forward and not regretting the past. And mostly, Louis tells us that we aren’t stuck: the ladders and portals tell us that we can build the future ourselves, and there are doors left to be opened. We can do it together if we can visualize it (the eye motif); we don’t have to feel lonely. “You can call me.” “Right now/ you’ll be okay, we’ll talk tomorrow.” “Wasn’t meant to be/ but not meaningless to me.” “You can find paradise your own way.”

Maybe these sentiments are corny, but sometimes people who are lost or who have had too many bad events in their lives just need a kind word, something encouraging.

The stage graphics are so beautiful, and Louis is meticulous in his choice of stage outfits. He’s not ostentatious or garish; always witty, elegant, a bit cheeky. I miss him already.

[journey-to-the-attic]

If it isn’t too bothersome to ask, how does Zhao eventually get closer with each potential love interest?

His silly shenanigans always put a smile on my face

in a vacuum outside of the whole canon plotline of the exchange year—

with the brothers, since they all live in the same house, it’d probably be zhao just getting used to them over time that stops him from being as afraid of them, at which point the befriending and subsequent catching of feelings starts to happen. some brothers become sort-of friends more quickly since they’re good with ik (mammon, beel, asmo), or because ik likes them, even if they’re not so good with her (levi, satan) 

and of course with diavolo (as we’ve said before), he’s intrigued by zhao and so establishes himself as an amicable party early on, and quickly notes that zhao has caught his interest and starts getting to know him better. simeon and solomon are kind of similar to diavolo in that they remove themselves as being threats in zhao’s eyes early on, but they’re more passive than active amicable parties, if you know what i mean??

in solomon’s case, he’d make himself a friend of zhao’s pretty quickly, but since they lack a lot of common ground, they don’t have much to talk about for a while. they still spend time around each other, though, and solomon takes a kind of comfort in those hang-outs, even if they’re awkward and mostly mundane. also, ik likes solomon’s magic tricks, so zhao appreciates it when he entertains her with them

in simeon’s case, he’s not so much zhao’s friend as he is ik’s friend for a while - since wherever zhao is, ik usually is too, and simeon finds that he really likes doting on/playing with her, which means he doesn’t often take the time to actually talk to zhao himself for long. he does do it eventually, though, and he finds that there’s something weirdly charming about how awkwardly pleasant the guy is (plus he appreciates that zhao’s so nice to luke)

barb would be fairly distant from zhao for a time, but since his boss is after zhao a lot of the time, barb isn’t usually far behind, so they often chat a little bit in the spaces between - these little interactions build up, to the point where barb starts considering zhao more of a genuine friend than an acquaintance, and he soon starts finding himself looking for more opportunities to spend time together

i don’t have a concrete plotline for how exactly things go for every guy, but here are a few more notes for the ones that i do have ideas for!

satan + lucifer + diavolo - zhao worries about how whether he can really be a suitable father and raise ik on his own, satan has internal struggles coming from his origin and how he was raised, lucifer has his own issues from having been the primary caretaker of his family since like forever, diavolo has a not-great relationship with his own father; there’s definitely some mutual help and communication to be had here

mammon - zhao is used to frugality and struggles allowing himself or ik any luxuries even when they can afford them, while mammon overspends; they kind of help each other come to a compromise between the two. feel like zhao being a hard worker has a good influence on mammon, while mammon kind of forces zhao into being kinder to himself in general

beel - both are used to placing themselves at the centre of their past troubles - beel blames himself for not saving lilith, and while zhao certainly does shoulder some blame in the whole situation with ik’s mother, he really needs to stop stewing in it so much; they both kind of help kickstart each other into getting out of this mindset

solomon - eventually he decides to confide in zhao about how distanced he feels from humanity, and how nice it feels to just kind of hang out with him, even if it’s super mundane; this kinda hits zhao hard, and he makes a point to talk to solomon more after that - solomon notices this, which makes him feel weirdly fuzzy inside...

asmo - taking his entire conflict with helene as it happens in jtta, it holds some kind of similarities with zhao and ik’s mother, where they both hold blame in the situation, but need to let go and bring closure to the whole thing; asmo by talking it out with helene, zhao by accepting that he did what he could to make things right

after all the getting closer stuff, zhao no longer sees everyone as an active danger, but it still takes a while for him to stop perceiving being flirted with as a threat - which means he gets spooked quite a bit for a while after this, because once the love interests start catching feelings, the flirting gets turned up to like, 1000000000000

[jaimebluesq]

Ship Meme :) 🍃🌼🌹🎭🌙💟 for NHS/Jin Zixun :D

Thank you thank you thank you! For allowing me to indulge my cracky pairing of choice >.< Of course they're not my *healthiest* pairing, but oh well lol

🍃 What do they do when the other is stressed?

I think it all depends on the source of the stress for both of them.

When NHS is stressed: For 'regular' stressors, omfg Jin Zixun will bring out his worst side if only because he LOVES it when NHS is catty and vicious - so pretty much taking him someplace public where they can make fun of people behind their backs. And it kind of works because it gives NHS the perfect venting he usually wouldn't allow himself. But when the stressor is NMJ or family in general, JZXun knows this is a touchy subject so pure distraction is the best way to go, and the best distraction is sex for these two, and not vanilla sex either - JZXun would be goading NHS to top him, not just because of fun sexy reasons but also because there are so many ways NHS doesn't have full control in his life, *especially* in his relationship with NMJ, and when NHS Doms, it gives him a feeling of control he often lacks.

When JZXun is stressed: For most stressors, NHS will help JZXun get to someplace he can vent in a physical way, like going to a mundane tavern and letting him pick a fight with someone if the stress is really bad, but otherwise nasty talking the people around them can help reduce the stress. But JZXun's 'special' stress is the same subject as NHS, his family - particularly his relationship with his uncle - and that's when NHS will let JZXun spend some time alone in a room with breakable items until he's vented the worst of his anger and the floor is littered with debris, and then pull him into bed where they can fuck each other silly until they can barely remember their own names.

🌼 How do their personalities complement each other?

Partners in Crime is the best way to describe it. They're each others' worst influences and love to goad each other on... but they also benefit each other in unexpected ways. JZXun gives NHS the opportunity to indulge in his catty side, and NHS forces JZXun to be more subtle with his snipes and poisonous looks. And all that being said, they actually have a ton of interests in common re: the Arts.

🌹 Who is the hopeless romantic?

Without a doubt, NHS. JZXun doesn't even really believe in love or if he's even capable of it - growing up watching JGS fuck his way through almost every woman he sees has messed with his views of love, affection, and romance - plus I write him as very closeted and repressed, so very little romantic about that. NHS, however, has been fantasizing of romancing a partner ever since he picked up his first spring book.

🎭 Who is the dramatic one?

*looks at NHS, looks at JZXun*: BOTH. NHS is more about crying or fainting his way into/out of trouble, and JZXun is all about starting a fight in the middle of a fucking banquet because he just can't keep his fucking mouth shut and leave Lan fucking Xichen alone. *ahem*

🌙 How do they comfort each other when they are helpless to do anything about the situation?

The thing with both of these two is that the particular scenario wouldn't occur to them. Let me explain - either one of them would definitely have situations where *they* feel helpless over their own life, but the other one would never feel helpless because the other is suffering. Neither would comfort the other - but BOTH would fuck up whoever was making them feel helpless (if possible). They're both men of action, in their own ways, and both people who are their better selves when they're standing for someone they care about (e.g. NHS getting revenge for his brother, JZXun supporting his cousin). So if the other felt helpless, they would both take action instead of wasting words comforting because they both know words can be hollow and won't really work on either of them.

💟 What do you think makes them perfect for one another?

(Are they? I don't know! I just like them, damn it!) When they're together, they don't have to put on masks for each other. NHS knows JZXun is a royal Asshole, and JZXun knows NHS is a shit cultivator who couldn't care less about physical pursuits. But when they banter and snipe at each other, they're equals both holding their own - and on the off-chance that the other wanted to reveal anything about their relationship, they're pretty sure nobody would believe it. There's kind of a freedom in that.

[cursingcrona]

ah! that makes me so happy to hear <3 i struggle with a lot of like, mental things & stuff that make it hard to decide if someones calling out or not, so thank you for being so nice and concise about your answer!

honestly, the way i reached out to apollon was by the same thing. him whispering his name into my head and i just went with it. it's weird, i genuinely used to be so quick to research and whatnot whenever i felt pulled to a deity but, growing a little more into my practice, i realized i take it so much slower? i can't decide if that's a bad thing, lol

but, do you have any advice on how i should approach deities? i'm still sort of new to this type of thing, like, a month or somewhat into it. and struggle with yk, being unsafe to practice how i want. it hurts my head to think about how i might be praying the wrong way or something. the infernal deity in question is asmodeus, and i've had a hard time researching him in a way but from what some people on witchtok have said about him, it makes me so nervous as to accepting his calls. i also have abandonment issues. so. it makes me a little more inclined to sort of "watch the phone ring until it goes away", yk? but i really like him. i wanna talk to him and get closer to him, since he's been persisting me for a long-ish time now.

people have said he'll demand huge offerings, huge rituals, ect. that terrifies me, because, im in the closet about what i do, lol. so i cant have candles, sages, buy offerings, build him a fancy altar, ect. (i mean hell i literally JUST put up a *shelf* altar for apollon earlier today. that's the most i can do, and it scares me to think of disappointing them. especially since people say "make it worth their time", ect.)

but, sorry for this ask!! it's kind of cringe, i know. but, thank you anyway <3

Hi Nonnie!! Lets give you a proper nickname, aye? Hrrmmm..... /silly

Your my first ask, soooo... I wanna make it special..

Ill give you some options:

📎Nonnie

🪽Nonnie

🦇Nonnie

Now, lets unload this, shall we??

If you've seen any of my other posts, you'll know I believe deities understand. And I thoroughly do! To my core.

Deities know when things interfere with the mortal and mundane worshipers. They get it, they would be kind of off without the ability to just know.

On the same foot, some deities enjoy (enjoy, not require) large offerings, and devotional acts, and rituals, but it's not a requirement. Especially when in the broom closet!

You won't be disappointing anyone, or anything, for that matter. You are worth anyone and everyone's time.

I actually love the little shelf altar for Apollo! Right now, Apollo shares an Altar space with Dionysus, and soon to add Hermes (and others but they'll all have different spaces).

Im sure if thats all you can do, King Asmodeous wont mind. Deities are very understanding entities, especially with all the drama that (usually) happens in mythos.

Lets say He is a deity that prefers large rituals, offerings, and devotional acts, your the one that dictates what "big" or "little" means in that situation. It's your practice so words like "big" and "little" are relative to you and your abilities.

When I approach Deities, i take it slow or fast, all depending on the nature of the deity. The same goes for entities. Since King Asmodeous is, well, a King, i recommend taking it slow and respectfully! If you cant have candles and such, i recommend getting a little (easily hide-able) bowl ! This can serve either as an Altar or an offering dish! You can add just about anything to it, and that will serve as you reaching out to a deity. You can also pray over these offerings as a more direct reach out.

Then onto my next point: Take things as slow/fast as you deem comfortable.

Not "necessary", not "acceptable", comfortable.

I really love hammering home "This is Your practice" because it is! No one else can dictate what's "too slow" or "too fast" thats yours to decide!

Research is a wonderful thing to do even if it slows down how fast you start working with an entity/Deity. Sense your the one risking being wrong, and doing all these devotional things in the end, the choice is up to you how much research you put forward in the beginning!

One last point before i go:

Anything can be devotional, anything. I mean it! Time doing research about my deities is how i continue to feel close to them, your dedicating time to them. That in and of itself builds a bond like no other!

That's all I have to say at the moment, stay safe Nonnie, Blessed Be.

[nonas-dad-saying-love-hurts]

Just woke from a dream. I was a woman, I think. I was getting married for the first time. I don't know who I was marrying but I was shopping. My mother was there.

Actually before that I wasn't shopping and I wasn't a woman. I was me, and I was organizing supplies in a giant warehouse that used to be a school. It was renovated. I was the only teacher who wasn't a woman. In the year before me there had been one also. For Halloween we used chalk paint and paper to "dress up" the school as its ugly, unrenovated former self. The old staff and atudents visited.

In the warehouse, at first it was the emergency medical depot that I normally organize, just two rooms. But the shelves kept growing, the work was endless, until it became a literal ocean, with water and waves. The water was warm. Prepackaged feverfew and chamomile were washed away. That's when I turned into a woman.

When I was in the ocean I noticed my body and how it let me feel the sand and move in the water. I was delighted by the water. I lay down in the waves. I knew how to jump and float when the waves went over my head. I didn't go under or get buffeted around like the other people. I wasn't scared like them.

When I left the waves and found myself in a shopping center is when it became that I was getting married. I wanted to buy just a few feminine things. A golden eye pencil. A nice matte lipstick. My face wasn't like the face I had pre transition. I don't know whose face it was. My mother didn't want me to buy cosmetics, she thought it was silly. I stood up for myself. I got the few things I really wanted. I got the golden eye pencil. The colors were so vivid.

[ In my dream I spoke German but not French. Like real life. I saw an ex (not a real existing one) who was friendly and would help me pay. The shopkeepers wanted francs. I guess we were in france. He was smiling and cheerful. I think he was the MCAT tutor I had a crush on when I was 23. He disappeared with my stuff into the crowded and chaotic shop. I went searching for him. The shop was part of a huge mall complex where indoor and outdoor were as indistinct as shops were from each other. The outdoor part was the quad or bowl or whatever they call it at the university in Charlottesville. ]

While I searched for this guy who had my stuff, I stumbled backstage for some kind of "reality show" stage thing idk what it was. One girl came out of her dressing room amd followed me outside. She was trying to help me. She was asking what I wanted, but I was embarassed to tell her what I was looking for.

She told me she's trans and started asking me for reassurance about the future. I was running away from her. She was very beautiful and very naive. She trusted cops; she thought I was looking for cops and started calling them over. This forced me to answer her questions. I wanted to read her my poem about making the failures softer for each other but I was embarrassed.

I told her I'm trans too (I guess I was me again) and I can't lie to her and say it will be ok or we will be safe. I was crying as I was talking. I told her we have to love that which is uncertain. I told her we have to love thst which might die, that which will die, that which is dying, because nothing is not dying. This is our struggle. We were both crying.

I woke up thinking of the last line of my poem. I couldn't remember what I'd written before -- "our struggle is to love the dying / world -- ourselves -- each other"? Or was "ourselves" the last thing in the list? And in my sleepy brain the thought was so clear, that in poetry a list like that goes from least to greatest, from most mundane to most epic. So the dilemma about what to put last isn't a decison about writing; it's a judgement about life. Which is harder? To love each other? Or to love our (dying) selves? And in the end writing a poem is to have the responsibility of putting things like this in the correct order and telling everybody.

[buckyownsmylife]

Follow you - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris becomes your roomate and finds out he has a domesticity kink... and more

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, domesticity kink, friends to lovers, rommates au, pandemic mention, hair-pulling kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, kind of allusion to an age gap, but can be read as reader being into teasing chris

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Thanks to @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ for reading this over and helping me make it better! You’re the sweetest person ever!  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” I’d been trying to convince her to close her laptop for the last two hours, unfortunately without any luck. She just glanced at me before returning to her document, and I groaned as I left the living room in search of what I knew we needed.

“Close the laptop and I’ll give you a sip.” This time when she looked up, she found me holding a bottle of my most expensive whiskey, the one she’d been dying to try ever since she first got invited to my place.

It was a tense moment of evaluation while she took in my offer and her workload, her head turning from her computer to me and then back to the device again, and I found himself growing anxious because of how desperately I wanted her company that night.

“Please?” I tried to convince her, even going so far as to pout - which at least earned me a giggle. I considered it a win, especially with the way it made my chest warm up. “C’mon, we deserve it! After the week we had?”

She frowned when she thought back on the stresses we had confided in each other for the last couple of days, and I watched with glee when she slowly closed her laptop, prompting me to wave my arms around in victory. “We?” She teased, getting up to stand before me with her arms crossed in front of her body, making me laugh.

“Alright, so maybe just you.” I couldn’t really deny that my work “problems” paled in comparison to hers. “Listen, I’m only trying to help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, reaching out for the bottle and unscrewing it before taking the sip I’d promised.

“Shit, this really is good.” A smug smile took over my face as I wrapped my arms around her, walking us back to the couch before making us fall over it.

“Only the best for you, babe.” I watched her roll her eyes at the pet name, snickering at how it affected her. I knew it made her giddy and she hated it, it’s why I insisted on doing it - or so I told myself.

Something deep inside of me whispered differently, though. I tried to ignore it. She was my best friend and we were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. No one knew when this pandemic would let up.

And lord knows that nothing positive had ever come out of my investments in romantic relationships. So every rational thought in my mind was begging me not to overcomplicate this. I couldn’t stand to lose her friendship, anyway. That’s why I had invited her to spend lockdown with me - my need to know she was okay, and be able to have her around whenever I needed to vent.

She was the only one outside my family who got my anxiety well enough to help me work through it when I was feeling bad, and she had even been able to prevent me from having panic attacks more than once.

I just couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone other than her. I simply hadn’t anticipated how fucking horny this period of forced sexual privation would make me, and I never expected her to become a willing victim to my needs.

But boy, once the liquor hit and she ended up over my lap, shivering as she rode my thigh without a care in the world, was I glad that she did.

“Is this what you like?” I asked, looking up at her with my mouth hanging open, unbelieving of how fucking sexy she looked as she used my body for her pleasure. I didn’t even care that my cock was straining against my jeans, begging me to move her on top of it. As long as I could keep enjoying the show, being a part of it, I was satisfied.

“I wanna learn it,” I pressed, moving my hands to hold her ass, squeezing it the way I’d always wanted to do but never allowed myself to dream about. “I wanna learn how to please you.” She made me feel something I hadn’t felt before, in any of my past relationships. There was attraction, of course, but there was also this deep, familiar feeling that made me feel at home. It made me feel safe, and with the help of alcohol, I was desperate to explore it.

“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back, drawing my attention to her breasts, the way they bounced in front of my eyes, unfortunately still covered. My mouth watered at the sight of it, wanting nothing much than to strip her bare and wrap my lips around one of her nipples.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Evans.” The comment threw me off, making me frown as I took a hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked her to me, devouring her lips. They were soft - so much softer than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.

“Why not?” I panted against her mouth once I was forced to separate from her taste of whiskey to search for some oxygen. She kept moving, her eyes hazy and glossed over, and it sent a pang of lust straight down my body when I realized it wasn’t completely due to the drinks we shared. There was also desire in there.

“You want to learn?” She asked, hands bunching up my shirt as she used her hold to grind against me faster. “Then fuck me, Chris.” She molded her body to mine, engulfing my lips once more as I laid her down on the couch, excited to have her underneath me - excited to see her naked body, explore it, get to know every little thing that made her tick.

I knew it would be a moment I’d forever remember, regardless of the amount of bourbon in my blood. I just never expected it to become something I was so eager to relive over and over and over again.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. When I woke up in the morning, I was ready to go back to being roommates. We were good at that. She was a morning person, by the time I woke up every morning, she already had breakfast ready for me, and then we’d go out to the backyard to let Dodger out together.

We’d sit and talk and then I’d go for a run - she’d have done her yoga already, while I was still asleep - I’d answer some e-mails, she’d work on her laptop by my side and the silence was just as comfortable as all of our late night conversations.

She’d sneak out to the kitchen and come back with a few sandwiches for our lunch, and then the rest of the day would go by with us doing whatever mundane task we had in mind, together even if we were doing separate things, and I didn’t feel suffocated.

I didn’t even run out of things to say. By the time dinner rolled around and I followed her back to the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes while she fixed us dinner - I wasn’t allowed to cook in my own stove, mostly because she was terrified of my food but hid it under the excuse of that one time when I started a fire - then we’d eat together, watch a movie together, talk until we fell asleep - always together.

I was shocked. It’d never been this way in any of my previous relationships. In fact, I was certain it was the reason why they had never worked. I’d given up on any realistic expectation of settling down precisely because of this: I just never expected to find anyone with whom a day-to-day life wouldn’t eventually grow boring.

It’d been three months and I still loved to wake up to her coffee. We still fell asleep every night side by side, too tired to move into different beds because we had laughed our asses off after skyping Scott.

And now that sex came into play in our relationship? I just knew there was no way I’d ever go back to being nothing but friends - or living in a place where she wasn’t the first person I saw when I woke up.

It sucked that it took a pandemic and a night of alcohol to make me realize that, but damn, was I grateful that I decided to open a bottle of whiskey that evening.

I kept waiting for the catch, the moment it would all go to shit, but it never came. Our lives resumed to how they used to be, only now I had this ongoing inner battle to not just bend her over the nearest piece of furniture when we were busy, and the ability to do exactly that whenever there was nothing else to do.

And for a while it was bliss. There wasn’t a nagging voice inside my head questioning this arrangement because it was theoretically perfect. I had a best friend, a roommate and a fuck buddy, all wrapped into one single person that I adored.

Life couldn’t possibly get better - until I realized that I wanted more. Talks of lockdown being over started and she had plans of going back to her place, of course, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.

I wanted to see my family too, but I wanted to take her with me. Introduce her to my mom, see her get along with my sisters. Witness how she’d be with my nephews and nieces - I knew how much she loved kids. And that’s when it hit me.

I’d given my heart to her. Somewhere between the morning coffees and afternoon runs, the nights where I’d rant about all of my silly problems and she actually listened to them - really listened, never making me feel bad about what could only be described as rich people problems.

All the innocent little gestures, and the not so innocent ones - when I discovered she was exactly the nasty slut I’d always dreamed of, the way she would randomly drop to her knees and suck me off, even while I was on the phone. Most times she didn’t even let me repay the favor. She just genuinely liked to blow me.

She also liked to play with me randomly, like when we were watching a movie and she mindlessly reached for my crotch, rubbing me until I got hard. It almost always ended in sex, and I just loved it.

I loved it, and I loved her, and the idea of her ever sharing this idyllic lifestyle with anyone else made me irrationally jealous.

And that’s how I knew it. I didn’t want to mess it up. But how could I not fuck this up?

Xxx

“Chris…” Her sweet voice called out to me, reaching my ears while I was hiding in my office, trying to get my thoughts in order so I wouldn’t just randomly blurt out what I was feeling for my best friend to my best friend.

To her credit, she didn’t try to force me to keep her company - but that only made me fall even deeper for her, leaving me a complete and utter mess while she went about her day as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“Yes?” I looked up to see her by the threshold, clearly reticent about invading my privacy. It made me smile, thinking back on all of the times my exes hadn’t been as understanding, even after I let them clearly know what I was needing.

“I made cupcakes, do you want me to bring you one?” The thought of her in the kitchen, baking a sweet treat just for me had my cock twitching in my pants. Biting my lips, I pushed away from my desk to finally get up and stretch my legs, taking advantage of the monitor to hide my hard-on.

“No, I’ll come eat them downstairs with you.” She smiled before leaving, and I soon trailed after her, walking into the kitchen to find the most delicious-looking little treats, just waiting to be devoured.

Much like her, I supposed.

I was reaching for one of them, already licking my lips in anticipation when something caught my eye, prompting me to raise my gaze and look at her again, but really look at her this time.

She was wearing an apron.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the damn thing, but the way she looked with it, going about her business in my kitchen like she owned the place… It just felt right, seeing her there.

And suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y/N…” I started, leaving the cupcake back on the counter and brushing off the crumbs as I circled the kitchen island to go stand in front of her. She hummed before turning to meet me, smiling slightly to signal that she was listening to what I had to say.

But I didn’t know how to say it. So we just stood there, staring at each other until eventually her smile became a frown. “Chris, what’s going on?” I still couldn’t speak. Much to my absolute surprise though, she just sighed, wiping her hands on the apron while shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought the cupcakes would be a good idea,” she explained nodding towards the tray where her sweet treats laid. “They’re a reward and a break all wrapped in one delicious cake.”

The comment was like a punch to the stomach - or a scalding wave of desire rushing through my body, straight to my groin. The idea of her thinking about my needs and catering (quite literally) to them just did something to me, and I didn’t know how to explain it - I don’t think I understood it myself.

“But since they didn’t work…” she continued, blissfully unaware of the conundrum she had put me into. “I know something else that will definitely work.” And just like that, the woman dropped to her knees in front of me, reaching for my sweatpants before I could find a way to close the mouth that was hanging open.

“I guess I’ll grab a sweet treat for myself.” She looked so devious, small hand encircling my already pathetically engorged member, that all I could do was whisper an, “Oh, shit,” when she immediately wrapped her lips around it,  starting to suck me off without any preamble.

My fingers were white as I held onto the counter behind me to keep myself up. She looked so good, staring up at me with her lips wrapped around my dick, I felt like I was about to blow already.

Why did she have to be such a fucking tease?

“Oh, God,” I moaned when she managed to engulf the entirety of my member inside her throat, the choking noises getting to my head. My hand instinctively laced with her hair, first to hold her lips close to my navel, then to pry her completely off of my member.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned once she was able to speak, surprise written all over her features while I was still staring down at her slightly teary face and trying to find my voice.

“I-I have a problem.” There. I said it. I had finally made some progress in my goal to let her know what was going through my head. Only instead of curiosity, what I got was a confused expression from the woman still holding my dick, her eyes darting from my own to the member throbbing between her fingers.

“No, you don’t!” It would have been funny if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. Yanking her by the hair, I complained, “Not that kind of problem!” pulling her to the living room so I could throw her on the couch, trying to ignore her moans of pleasure in the process.

I’d figured out pretty early on that she had a pretty serious hair-pulling kink, and if my plans of sitting down and having a level-headed conversation were ever in motion, they surely went out of the window the second she pulled my body down to cover hers and adjusted my cock so it would easily fill her.

“Son of a…” I groaned, letting my head fall down against her chest as the little vixen gleefully giggled underneath me, legs wrapped around my torso as she tried to thrust up and tempt me to move.

“Just wait a second,” I managed to reason, but she just shook her head.

“Fuck away your problem, Chris. Use me. I want you to.” Motherfucker. I really couldn’t catch a break with her. Just as she started to make me move again, my hand instinctively wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing it just enough to get her to shut up.

“I wanna start a family with you,” I finally spilled, looking deep into her eyes as I tried to ignore that I was still balls deep inside of her. Her eyes widened, and now her mouth was the one hanging open.

I couldn’t really relish in it because she looked absolutely delicious and she felt stupidly heavenly to my throbbing dick.

A few seconds went by without as much of a reaction from her and I was about to pull out - despite still being achingly hard - but her legs held me tighter, stopping my plans of leaving her tight haven.

“You know…” She started to speak, a little out of breath, catching my attention as I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye again. “When I first met you, I thought you were the epitome of a fuckboy.”

The unexpected sentence had me snorting, and then I just couldn’t stop laughing. Finally pulling away from her, she fixed her hair when she sat up and I did the same, shaking my head slightly as I rubbed my eyes.

Our own relative nakedness - well… mine, she was wearing her usual dress with no underwear under the damn apron - didn’t affect anything when I pondered over her words, until I decided to break the silence.

“I mean… I think I was?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she took in my response, analyzing it, weighing its validity in that gorgeous head of hers. I was nervous, but she hadn’t blew me off yet. And quite honestly? I’d do anything for that little hope that was growing inside of me.

“What changed?” Was her question, so unexpected I couldn’t help but question, “Huh?”

“What made you change?” It wasn’t an unwelcome inquiry, especially when the response became clear to me, lighting up my brain and warming my chest, spreading all over my body until I had no choice but to voice it.

“I realized I could have a future with you.” My smile was vulnerable but honest, and in her eyes, I could see that she knew that. When she threw one leg over my lap, straddling my hips, I allowed myself to breathe deeply again, leaning on the soft cushion while taking a hold of her ass.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” She non-nonchalantly asked, slowly rubbing herself against my still half-hard member. I groaned when I realized the implication of her words, knowing that the meaning paired with the feeling of her wet lips dragging along my cock would get it back up in no time at all. “You wanna do me right now?”

The brashness of the question made my eyes light up, as weird as it may sound. In that moment, it became clear just how perfect for me she really was, giving me what I needed exactly in the way I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“See? This is why I’m in love with you.” She rolled her eyes at that, making me laugh. I’d anticipated the gesture, I knew it’d take her longer to say it, but it was alright. The fact that she was willing me to give me a child was more than enough proof of her feelings for me, if her entire behavior ever since she moved in wasn’t already.

“Shut up and fuck me, Evans.” Throwing her back against the couch, she yelped in surprise when I took off my shirt and slapped the inside of her thigh, assuming my usual position of hovering over her smaller frame.

“Spread your fucking legs, darling. I’m gonna fuck you real good.” The way she bit her lip as I slowly penetrated her again showed me just how excited the prospect got her, and as I started to make good on my promise, her moans told me just as much.

“Holy fuck,” she commented as I pounded her ruthlessly, weeks of frustration and the rush of anticipation getting the best of me, and I was glad for the feeling of her nails biting into my skin because otherwise, I’d probably run over the edge of not even caring about her own pleasure as I chased mine.

“You gonna cum inside of me, honey? Make me a mom? Finally fulfill your dream of becoming a daddy?” Her words detracted me from my task of sucking bruises on the skin that was now mine to bruise, mine. I threw my head back, yelling a, “fuck yes,” as my hips sped up, desperate to fill her up, but I was determined to get her to cum before me.

“Say it,” she ordered, small hand circling my throat as best as she could, a throwback to what I’d done only moments prior. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it did catch my attention. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Tears escaped the corners of my eyes as I blinked, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best of ways. “God, you are such a fucking tease…” She chuckled underneath me, giving my throat a squeeze before she raised up on her elbows to kiss my jaw.

“Better get used to it… daddy.” And just like that, I realized that I had yet another kink I hadn’t known about before her. Or maybe it was just her, and I was obsessed with the damn woman, painfully turned on by every little thing that she did.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside your little pussy, sweetheart,” I finally gathered myself enough to do as she asked me to. “You’re gonna belong to me forever now. Give me kids, make me happy. How do you like that?”

The mischievous grin she gave me told me everything. “I love it.” I knew this was her way of saying what she couldn’t yet voice, and I’d take it. I’d take anything she gave me, any chance I got to love this wonderful woman.

We came together, both riding our highs in deep ecstasy. I moaned when I felt myself empty all of my seed inside of her, incredibly excited about the prospect of starting our future together right then.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I cradled her face in my hands as I struggled to catch my breath, but she turned it to the side and pressed a kiss to my palm and I was breathless all over again. It was such a simple action, why did it get to me so much?

“You’re not too bad yourself, Chris.” I didn’t want to part with her warmth, so I just adjusted us on the sofa in a way that kept me inside of her, sighing contently as I realized I’d never have to sleep away from her again.

“I’m gonna stay right here all night.” I adjusted myself so I was resting my face on her boobs, perfectly happy to do just so, but by the tone of her voice, I knew she had a teasing smile when she called me an, “Old man.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d be able to go again.” Warmth filled my chest at the realization of just how badly she wanted me - just as much as I wanted her too. I was so damn ecstatic. Not even her pokes at my age would be able to affect me.

“Oh, darling… better get ready,” I warned as I adjusted myself to hover over her again, taking notice of the excited glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she stared back at me. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”

The next morning, I added a new kink to the list of random bits of information that were driving me slowly insane as I felt the overwhelming need to bend the woman that I now got to call ‘mine’ over the nearest piece of furniture and rail her until I had cummed deep inside her pussy: seeing her in my shirt while cooking breakfast.

Yeah, I was going to live a happy life by her side.

[spectrum-color]

So ordinarily these comparisons annoy me, both because they’re very different series and because the writer often ends up talking about how much less silly and more “realistic” Thrones is (mostly based on a combination of the ridiculous caricature of the Middle Ages that is prevalent in our culture and disdain for fantasy as a genre and all things fantastical as a device,) but this actually treats the show with respect and makes many points I agree with.

1. In GoT, sexualized violence against women is often used to advance men’s arcs (and this is not just the show; fan favorite Tyrion’s whole main pain backstory about participating in the gang rape of his first love that his father organized is book exclusive) or to give the woman some sort of obstacle (because Sansa can’t prove that she’s strong unless she’s brutally raped and tortured for months, ultimately being rescued by Theon of course as part of his redemption arc.) It’s also just sometimes there for titillation, ie Daenerys and Drogo. Wheel of Time the show has so far avoided this, and rape was only obliquely mentioned in the books (even then sparingly, and the only time I thought it was in bad taste is when the myrdraals were involved.)

2. Even when they aren’t being raped or harassed, women are highly sexualized in aSoIaF. Daenerys in particular comes off as a fetish object for GRRM, who gives random scenes of her figuring out masturbation or having sex with her servants for no discernible reason. In the books, Tyrion (who is once again a fan favorite) agrees to marry Sansa, an unwilling 14 year old, because at least she’s got. Entire scenes discussing the world and current affairs take place in the context of naked women in the brothel servicing the person giving the exposition. Women in WoT have complex inner lives, agency, a wide range of morality from evil to heroic, and aren’t primarily there to be sexual objects for audience consumption. They have power in society too and aren’t just possessions or props, which you could argue is UnReAlIsTiC, but it’s not the real world so it doesn’t need to be.

3. GRRM is kind of addicted to shock value imo. I’m sure there are many arguments about why he heavily featured incest in his story, or eye catching gore centerpiece scenes like Oberyn Martell having his skull crushed, but I really do think a lot of it is aiming at being edgy. I can understand the impulse because this was written before the rise of grimdark made all of that pretty mundane, but it’s never really clicked with me. I don’t need my universe to be “dark” to have fun with it (I read a lot of horror and love dark content, but usually with a more gothic vibe if that makes sense.)

4. Probably the biggest is that GoT (show in particular) always felt ashamed that it was fantasy, while no iteration of Wheel of Time carrie that vibe. This is true especially in later seasons where it ran far away from the books more fantastical elements with the aim of making it basically a gritty prestige drama with softcore porn on the side, but the books also went with more of a low fantasy/most people don’t believe in magic, pretty much no one knows how to actively use it/it plays a limited role in the story, vs WoT which goes all in to the point where several main characters are essentially sorcerers and magic is at the core of both the world and the plot. This is purely a stylistic choice, but I personally prefer my fantasy heavy on the fantasy elements so give me an official society of sorceresses who are heavily involved in world affairs any day

[joheun-saram]

“Is your refrigerator running?” (jjk)

Summary- Who knew the annoying prank calls you were receiving would become the favourite part of your day.

word count- 4.2k

pairing- fratboy!Jungkook x Reader

rating- PG-13

genre- fluff, collegeau

warnings- none! just stupid jokes.

a.n- Part of my drabbles for @btsholidaybingo​, ticking off the Prank Calls tile! I’ll be posting these every week or so as I get them done. Check out the other drabbles here :)

s/o to the beautiful @heyitsmeee2​ for beta reading and helping me fix the ending! 💕

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

“So how’s your new boyfriend?” Namjoon asked you as you chewed on your fries, almost choking at his insinuition. He laughs at you as he takes a sip of his milkshake, slurping obnoxiously, his eyes widening as he concentrates on the flavour.

“Stop! He’s just a random guy with too much time on his hands! I don’t even know his name! Although...” You stared at your burger, trying to forget what your roommate was alluding to. Two months ago you had started getting phone calls from a stranger. It wasn't something from a horror movie, don't worry. It was harmless. He would call you at random times in the day to ask you silly questions. You don’t know how he even got your number but there was something about his easy going nature and lame jokes that made you want to continue talking to him. Namjoon suspected it was a byproduct of your loneliness, but it was comforting hearing his voice to break through your mundane day to day. 

"Hi, is this Y/N?" A deep voice spoke as you picked up the call from an unknown number.

"Yes this is she. Who is this?" You asked as you sat up straighter, your attention diverting from the paper you were writing. You had applied to eight jobs for after graduation and you were sure this was a call for an interview, even though it was 10 pm. Your eyes lit up as you hoped this was the big consulting firm you were waiting to hear from.

"I have a very important question that I was hoping you could help me with."

"Um.. sure go ahead." You fiddled with your pen, scribbling random shapes on your notebook, feeling somewhat nervous. Is this how employers usually talked? Did they do this to build anticipation?

"Is your refrigerator running?"

"I'm sorry what?"

"Is your refrigerator running?" 

"Are you calling on behalf of the landlord?" Your voice was flat with disappointment. Surely, this was not an important question. Oh how you wished it was an interview call. You sighed.

"Please answer my question."

"Yes. It's running."

"Then you better go catch it, shouldn't you?"

And with that he hung up and you were baffled. Which decade was this dude from? Who does these lame prank calls anyway and more importantly why does your caller ID not show who it is? Thinking nothing of it, you go about finishing your assignment, albeit slightly aggravated. However, the calls continue. Everyday this stranger would call you with questions, sometimes with a silly punchline but oftentimes even sillier riddles.

"Okay, dude seriously. This is getting annoying." You huffed after a week and a half of receiving calls from the same deep voiced stranger, although you’d be lying if you said his little laugh after he told his jokes was not endearing.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to annoy you." He seemed hurt and you couldn’t fathom why he would be hurt over a comment a stranger made over his prank calls. In fact, you were sure this was some hobby of his and he had a rotation of strangers to bother.

"Can you at least tell me your name?" You don’t know why you were indulging him, but you had to give him props for constantly calling you. It was kind of becoming part of your daily routine.

"Dixie. My name's Dixie." You could hear the mirth in his tone.

"Dixie? Oh I thought you were a dude, my bad."

"I can be a dude and still have Dixie as my name. Jeez, are you a bigot?" He scolded.

"Sorry, sorry! I didn't mean it that way, Dixie."

"That's Dixie Normus to you." He laughed at his joke, every syllable of his laugh separated as if he was a cartoon character.

"Oh my god. You're the worst!" Regardless of your words, you were laughing. Laughing hard enough to have the banana milk you were drinking to snort out of your nose, making you cough. For a moment, you were glad this stranger wasn't in the room.

"Sorry! Are you okay?" You could hear the humour in his words, shading them in anything but an apology.

And so it went, your mysterious caller, who refused to go by anything other than Dixie turned into a somewhat friend, if you can even call someone who you know no personal details about your friend. After a month the phone calls had turned from cringe worthy puns to actual conversations about your day. You had started to look forward to the unknown flashing on your screen, and sharing the mundane details of your day with Dixie.

In two months you learned a lot more about Dixie. He went to your university, he was an avid gamer, he majored in computer science, and apparently it was now part of his daily routine to call you whenever he was cooling down from his workout on the treadmill - explaining the creepy breathlessness of his voice and beeps in the background. Sometimes you had half a mind to go to the university gym during your calls and see your mysterious friend, but somehow you never found the courage. It was nice not knowing what Dixie looked like, not judging someone by their looks but just by the content of their words. There was no room for disappointment.

It also oddly comforted you that you would never meet him and during your nightly conversations you would end up sharing thoughts that you’d be too uncomfortable sharing with even your best friends. Thoughts about the uncertainty you had over graduating soon, thoughts about being sad over failed relationships, even thoughts about your random existential crisis that would plague you mid week. Dixie was empathetic and had a knack for comforting you with small jokes and his own struggles. You would never admit it to Namjoon, but Dixie was slowly becoming your closest friend, even surpassing him to a certain extent.

"You're insane you know that?" Namjoon chided as you talked about Dixie and how you considered him a friend now. Even though Namjoon was your best friend since first grade, he sometimes didn't understand why you romanticised daily events so much. He never understood why you kept giving Dixie the benefit of the doubt, why you kept picking up his phone calls even when you knew it was going to be a lame joke or two.

"I'm not insane Joon! Haven't you heard of pen pals? This is the same thing but with voice."

"Nah. I think it's your crippling loneliness. Which is why we're going to Jin's frat party tonight." Namjoon was not having any of your excuses. So what if your last relationship was a year ago. You and Yoongi were great together. He was the perfect boyfriend and after he went to LA to pursue his music career, you told him you'd wait. Turns out he wasn't on the same page as you since six months after moving, he called you to break things off. He was right though, it would have been stupid to wait for him when neither of you knew when and even if he was ever coming back. It was unfair to the both of you to keep dragging this thing along. But even if Yoongi hadn't been around the last year and a half, you just couldn't see yourself with anyone else. You still missed talking to him every night and sharing your day, laughing at stupid videos together or just listening to him playing the piano through the static line of your phone. Maybe Namjoon was right. Maybe you were lonely and the only reason you were so attached to Dixie was because of the way his phone calls had replaced Yoongi's and how you no longer waited at the end of your day staring at your phone waiting for your ex's call but instead you received real actual calls from your voice pen pal.

You sighed agreeing with Namjoon and went home, not exactly looking forward to the party and missing Dixie’s call.

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

Jin's frat was notorious for the wildest parties on campus. It was always a cacophony of drunk students and a pit of hedonism. When Namjoon and you arrived, the party was in full swing and you thanked your best friend for having the foresight of pre-drinking. The bottle of grapefruit soju you had emptied earlier at your shared apartment ensured that you were not put off by the plethora of drunk guys trying to hit on you microseconds after you entered.

Looking for Jin and let's be honest, a little gin as well, you and Namjoon made your way to the kitchen, to be greeted by your tall friend doing a keg stand. Beer dripped down his chin as his fraternity brothers held him up, his feet almost touching the ceiling. As you poured yourself a gin and tonic, Jin climbed down from the keg to a chorus of applause. Much to your chagrin, he walked over, draping his arms around your shoulders and plastering your back with his beer soaked chest.

"Ew get off me you vermin!" You squealed, shivering in the gross feeling, your backless top doing nothing to shield you from your friend’s shirt as he refused to budge.

"Vermin? VERMIN?! I invite you to my house, give you free drinks, and an array of decent dicks to pick from and I'm the vermin?" Jin finally detaches, giving you a scowl as he leans against the kitchen island, pouring himself what you gather is his tenth drink of the night.

"Jin all of these guys are as gross as you. And I've told you I don't need to get laid!"

"Sure tell that to your vibrator working overtime."

"How did you even - " you sputered, eyes wide with disbelief.

"Namjoon, obviously. And before you kill him, there are no secrets between friends and part-time lovers." He winked, making you roll your eyes. Namjoon and Jin had been on and off since the beginning of freshmen year, neither the type for commitment but to your dismay loved to tell you all about their rollercoaster of a relationship. You swear you could write a thesis on dysfunctional relationships using theirs as a case study.

"Ew. Please stop. I don't need to know about you and Joon getting it on."

"Well then let me introduce you to someone so you can get it on." He wiggled his eyebrows puckering his lips to annoy you. 

"I know all your brothers Jin and no thank you." You lightly slapped his lips making him groan as he grabbed your wrist continuing his tirade. You’d be lying if you said his frat brothers had never caught your eye - they were famous for their astoundingly good looks, in fact there even seemed to be an instagram page dedicated to people randomly spotting them on campus (@betatauinthewild). However, their good looks did not make up for the fact that they were a bunch of loud fuckboys. You loved Jin and Namjoon and would literally stab anyone who said anything against them but you had to agree that they were the biggest players of the group, finding a new person to bed almost every weekend. That is, unless they were with each other - case and point their dysfunctional relationship.

"Well we have a new brother and he's my little brother. He's a sophomore, he just joined, and he's your type. The whole quiet but nice guy type." Jin continued, ignoring you in typical fashion.

"I don't have a type."

"Please! As if Yoongi wasn’t a cookie cutter tsundere. Come on let me introduce you to him!" He grabbed your shoulder and pleaded, pouting and widening his eyes in the most adorable puppy dog face you had seen him pull.

"Can we not talk about Yoongi please." You sighed. You finished your drink and proceeded to pour another one. 

"Yes! Let's talk about JK!"

"Jin... come on. Let's just drink okay?"

"Fine but I'm telling you, you'll get along. He's a great guy."

An hour into the party, you had lost both Jin and Namjoon and were getting tired of Jin’s exceedingly drunk frat brothers trying their pick up lines of the day on you. Your head was hurting from the noise of the party and you were sure if you saw another couple subtly trying to test their exhibitionism kink you were going to puke. So as it was typical for whenever you went to these parties, you started to make your way to Jin’s room. Jin may be loud and obnoxious and being lusted after by pretty much the entire campus, but he was reliable for one thing: he never fucked where he slept. And so his room became a sort of sanctuary for you when these parties would get too much.

You made your way up the stairs almost tripping over two guys who had decided that making out horizontally on the stairs was a good idea - you did not envy how busted their backs would be tomorrow. Punching in the code you walked in to find that there was already someone there, reclined on the bed with his arms behind his head, earphones in, humming gently as he stared at the ceiling. You had never seen him before, but boy did you wish you did. His dark hair was splayed over the pillows, a smile ghosting his full lips. He was dressed in all black, much like you but unlike your lace bodysuit and skinny jeans, he was wearing a boxy back t shirt with ripped jeans, his feet in those questionable toe socks. And he was buff, even though his body was mostly covered you could make out the muscle in his arms, one of which had intricate tattoos etched on to. You’re unaware how long you stared at this stranger, but suddenly he turns his face looking at you. Seeing you there he immediately jumps up, pulling his earphones out, startling you in turn.

“I- I’m sorry. Y-you can’t be h-here,” he stutters out, a soft blush rising up his cheeks as he nervously pulls at his ear.

“I should be saying that to you. Why are you in Jin’s room?” You shut the door, leaning on it, feeling oddly territorial.

“I- Hyung needed my room.” You found the stuttering boy in front of you endearing. Something about how he bashfully stared at anything but you while speaking made you want to hug him. 

“Oh my god! You let him into your room? Drunk during a party?” You almost scream, but lower your voice seeing the alarm on his face. Walking over, you sat next to him, a few feet away so as not to make him uncomfortable. “Do you like doing laundry or something?” you joked.

Hearing your question the boy perks up, looking at you with a bright smile that made your heart skip a beat. “I do actually! How did you know?” he asks excitedly. You almost felt bad bursting his bubble.

“I didn’t… It’s just - you know Jin’s probably having sex in there right?” You look at the abject horror on his face in sympathy, so you try to change the subject. “Nevermind. Why are you hiding in here?”

“I’m not hiding. I just got bored. Everyone there just wants to hook up or get blackout drunk.”

“You do realise which frat you’re part of right?”

“I know,” he chuckles, seemingly more relaxed as he lays down on the bed, his feet still on the floor. “I honestly didn’t even wanna join but I’m a legacy so my dad really wanted me to be a part of it, Beta Tau pride and all.”

“Not to be a bitch, but dude you sound like a protagonist of a shitty college romcom,” you laugh looking down at him as he smiles, crossing your legs on the bed as you turn towards him, forcing yourself to ignore how cute he looks from this angle.

“You think you’re being a bitch, but that's a great compliment. I wish my life was a romcom. It’d be so easy…”

“Okay, emo. What’s wrong?”

“You’re going to think it’s dumb.”

“Hey I don’t even know your name! What have you got to lose?”

“Fine. There’s this girl I like and we always call each other… Well I call her.... at this time, but she didn’t pick up. So yes I’m emo, and yes I wish I was in a romcom so I’d go downstairs and randomly run into her.” He looks at you with a sad smile, shrugging slightly, and you feel yourself deflate. Not that you were interested in him or anything. You were sure it was just the alcohol in your system making you feel extra empathetic. Yup that’s it.

“Hey, that’s not stupid,” you say gently. “What if she’s down there did you check?”

“Well… I don’t actually know what she looks like… So, no…”

“Oh then maybe you should call her again! What if she was busy?”

“I don’t wanna be pushy, you know? I’m not even sure she thinks of me the same-”

“YO DIXIE! You in there?” A loud knock booms through the room accompanied by a deep voice. The attractive stranger next to you rolls his eyes before standing up, and at hearing his nickname you feel your heart kickstart, racing as you blink in disbelief. It can’t be…

“Dixie?” you stutter out.

“What’s up dude?” He opens the doors talking to Taehyung, one of the other Beta Tau brothers, as they start talking about something. You can barely hear their conversation, your brain full of scenarios and questions, your face crimson. You never thought you’d meet Dixie in real life. Do you tell him? Do you just run away? Why did he have to be so hot?!

Taehyung notices you on the bed for the first time and in typical fashion starts hollering and high-fiving Dixie. “Damn dude! The president’s best friend! Good for you!” He snickered as Dixie looked at him with his mouth agape, before turning to you. “Ay Y/N. Treat our boy JK well okay? He’s too nice for you!”

“Fuck off hyung!” JK, apparently that’s his name, shoves Taehyung as he grins widely before wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and shutting the door, seemingly getting all that he came for.

“You’re Dixie…?” You stare up at him, standing up as you try to control the overwhelming urge to wrap your hands around him. Fuck, maybe Joon was right you did have a crush on your voice pen pal.

“I- Y/N?” He looks at you, mirroring your wide eyes. “The same Y/N I’ve been talking to?”

“Call me,” you almost whisper.

“What?”

“Call me so I know it’s real.” You move closer holding your phone up as he pulls his out of his pocket to dial your number. Your phone rings, displaying a set of numbers instead of unknown for the first time, and the two of you just stare at the vibrating device in your hand. It seems like time stood still, the air thick with tension as your shitty ringtone bounces off the walls. That is until you start laughing. Not giggling, full on laughing, holding your stomach as tears spill down your face, as JK looks at you in alarm, his arms hovering near you as you double over.

“Holy shit! You are the protagonist of a romcom!” You finally wheeze out as you hold his arm for support, while he looks at you with a frown. You’re unsure why this was your reaction, but you recover quickly to start your interrogation.

“So what’s your name Dixie or JK?”

“Jungkook, actually. Dixie’s my gamertag and JK is just what Jin hyung calls me.”

“How did you get my number?”

“Umm… I might have stolen it from hyung’s phone…”

“Why?”

“Because he prank called my friends first.” He spoke with a pout, and you swear your heart forgot to function.

“Why keep calling?”

“Really Y/N? You’re gonna interrogate me?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

“Keep talking Dixie!” You chuckled as his shy demeanor gave way to the Dixie, well the Jungkook, you knew. It was weird how fast the earlier awkwardness dissipated into comfort.

“What? I thought you sounded pretty! Sue me!” He shrugged, leaning back against the door, his hands in his pocket. Your eyes followed the movement, momentarily distracted by how his forearms flexed. Clearing your throat, you continued as he smirked, not missing the way your eyes seemed to be roaming his body.

“You said you were trying to call the girl you like. So you like me?” You try to sound as matter of fact as you could, but your voice wavered slightly at the last part as you made the mistake of looking at his face. He tilted his head, causing his hair to fall into his eyes that were boring holes into you, his smirk getting larger. Oh how you wished he turned back into the boy talking about how much he liked laundry.

“I thought it was obvious. I call you every night.” He stood straight, taking a step towards you causing heat to creep up your face at his sudden confidence. You don’t respond as he moves closer, causing his steps to falter. “Do you like me?” he asks, his voice a little smaller. You’re getting whiplash from the changes in his tone, but his question makes you feel warm. You haven’t felt this way in a long time, there’s butterflies in your stomach, your hands feel clammy, and you’re sure you can feel the heat off his body, so aware of where he stands merely inches away from you.

“I think so…” you move closer and he raises his hand as if to hold your hip but stops, hovering just centimeters away as looks at you, his gaze smouldering.

“What’ll make you sure of it?” he asks in a whisper, and before you can even comprehend the question, you are leaning up on your toes to press a light kiss against his lips. His lips are slightly chapped and you’re sure he can feel your heartbeat through them. Your skin tingles where he brings his hand on your hip, gently holding you. He doesn’t push you further, just leans his forehead on yours when you separate to whisper quietly, “This.”

“And?” His nose brushes against yours as you place your hand on his chest, his pounding heart mimicking yours. He slowly rubs his hands on your hips where they lay, and it’s like your skin is electrified.

“I’m sure,” you say as he crashes his lips on yours, pulling you closer as your arms snake around his neck. His reaction is much stronger this time as he moves his lips against yours feverently. He pulls you flush against him, your body molding against his hard muscles. His hands grip at your hips as he licks lightly at your lip, groaning as they part. It seems like he can’t decide what to do with his hands, roaming them over your sides, relishing the little moan you make as one of them cups your ass. His earlier shyness disappears, and who are you to resist him, as your hands in his hair pull him closer. It’s like everything finally makes sense, why you could never ignore his calls, why your heart raced whenever you heard him call your name through the static of your speaker. You had spent this whole time convincing yourself that he was just a stranger you could vent to when it was clear to you now that you were falling for him.

He whispers your name as you break apart, but his mouth continues down your jaw to your neck, kissing and sucking at the skin. His teeth drag across your collarbone, and you whimper at the way he soothes it with his tongue as you press your body even closer into his.

“Hey Y/N! Joon’s looking for you!”

The two of you break apart at the interruption, chest heaving and faces flushed. Looking up at Jungkook, you smile as he looks away shyly, his lip caught between his teeth, before turning to your best friend who is excitedly hopping in the doorway.

“I knew you would get along with JK!” Jin exclaims as you look once again at Jungkook before you both break out in a laugh. Trust Jin to know who you’d fall for before you. He comes up to pat his frat brother on the shoulder before his proud smile turns into a glare, warning the two of you that his room was for sleeping only and abruptly kicking you out. 

The two of you giggle as you make your way downstairs, unable to keep your hands off of each other, going from holding hands to hugging to sneaking kisses in the kitchen as you make your drinks. Before the night ends the two of you end up sitting in the backyard, kissing under the stars and planning your first date later that week, even though it felt like you had known each other an eternity.

You had never felt luckier to pick up a random phone call.