#and there r some that r not what i was describing in my last post but theyre still my favorite like the best years or the beat sheet

[cthulhum]

Hi you recently made a post about some destiel fics that are poetic with names like 91 whiskey, restless wanderer and something living kiss. Could you maybe share the link or something? I want to read them! Thank youuu🧡

yesss im gonna put everything ive read that i loved actually okay

restless wanderer <33333

and this, your living kiss

ninety one whiskey

a turn of the earth

the path of fireflies

psalm 40:2

the best years of our lives, my ass

the dean winchester beat sheet

the 5 senses of longing

twist and shout

so says the sword

i dont have them bookmarked together on ao3 so heres links for all of them separately and by all of them i mean ive only read the most popular ones so far and these r the one i loved the most !! hope u enjoy !!

@bondnamesthejames

[marsbotz]

ok cus im on my bullshit again. i loveeee the dragons in the httyd books. some of them are so bizarre and far from what you think of when it comes to dragons and others r just. normal animals. and its super fun how they all have their own characteristsics both in the wild and for human use. it all makes it super believable for a world fully inhabited by them

[vngelicc]

⊹₊ ⋆ “that dick make my soul smile,”

TAGS — creampie, fingering, slight degradation, dirty talk (LOTS), jk’s a sleazy mess at first, oc is done, mamas is stressed out, rough sex, jk rocks her shit 💀, some praise here n there, jk’s affectionate tonight, sex tapes r mentioned again, shower sex(?) not rlly, possessive!jk, breeding kink, never ending saga of jk saying “mama” or “ma”

WORD COUNT — 2.6 k

“Trash, trash, trash,” you mumble to yourself while you sort out the mail in your hands, “oh definitely trash.” You sigh and shake your head. You’re knocked out of your thoughts when you feel a pair of arms wrap around your middle and pull you back, “What the hell–” You hiss in surprise.

“Hey mama.” Jungkook’s stupid voice comes from behind, you already know he’s sporting a stupid grin on his fucking face. You shove his arms off and turn around to look at him with an annoyed glare, “Oh c’mon don’t be like that, aren’t you happy to see me? You weren’t mad at me like this yesterday when you had my head between your–” You quickly reach up to cover his mouth and look around the empty hall.

“Are you insane? There’s people around, Jesus, you don’t have any shame do you?” You side eye him, “First off,” you shake your head, “what are you doing here? I didn’t text you and Jiho didn’t ask, so why are you here?” You give him a look, “And if you’re looking for Jiho you’d know he’s on a camping trip with his cousins.”

Jungkook raises his hands in surrender, “Can’t a man come see his baby mama anymore? Shit you suck the fun out of trying to surprise you baby,” he shakes his head but you know, Jeon Jungkook isn’t fooling anyone and certainly not you.

“You forgot, didn't you.” You scoff, “Of course you did, what else did I expect? This camping trip is all Jiho talked about last week and yet you still manage to forget that because you’re thinking with your other head.” You roll your eyes and turn to unlock the front door, “Sometimes I wonder what Jiho even fucking sees in you, you’re a deadbeat Jungkook, a deadbeat.”

Jungkook chuckles, “To be fair my other head is the reason you get a good night’s sleep.” He says with a smirk on his lips as he stands there admiring the way your ass looks in that tight pencil skirt you’re wearing. You turn around to shoot him a glare but say nothing else and simply step into your apartment. Jungkook leans against the doorframe with both arms raised, “So, you gonna let me in sweetheart?” He licks his lips, poking his tongue out to push at his lip ring.

You look into his eyes and then down at his lips, “Well?” You shrug your coat and slip your heels off, “You gonna stand there all night or what?” He chuckles quietly and slips into your apartment, shutting the door behind him.

“This is new.” Jungkook comments, “Don’t remember you ever smoking.” He inspects the ashtray with a noncommittal hum.

“It’s not just for me.” You say uncharacteristically calm, “I bought it for you, figured you needed one since you love leaving a mess on my patio.” You don’t miss the way he smiles fondly at you, “Don’t get too excited dipshit, I smoke too, don't forget that.” You scoff and disappear down the hall.

Jungkook whistles under his breath and follows after you, “I didn’t say anything ma,” he kicks your bedroom door closed and settles himself over your bed, “what’s up with you? You’re not being your usual angry self.” He watches you go around your room putting things away and picking out your clothes.

“I’m tired Jungkook, I had two meetings back to back and all I wanna do is come home to shower and sleep. Can’t do that because you decided to come bother me at this fuckin’ hour.” You mumble and then throw a pair of panties at him full speed, “Don’t think I didn’t see the shit you posted either, you’re not funny.”

Jungkook throws his head back with a laugh, “Really? Cause I thought it was hilarious, I think it perfectly describes us.” He cheekily grins at you with that dumb lovestruck look of his.

You stop to give him an exasperated look, “Jungkook,” sigh, “telling people you’re always fucking your baby mama regardless is not funny, neither is saying ‘I fuck her when she mad at me.’ You’re a child.” You shake your head. You throw more clothes onto the bed and grab your robe and towel, “Don’t make a mess in my house Jungkook, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

Jungkook watches you with a pleased smile, “I won’t.” He reaches for your tv remote, “I’ll be rightttt here, sitting like a good boy for you ma.” He winks, “You just go ‘head and shower.” You eyed him suspiciously for a few seconds, he kept smiling goofily so you ended up walking away with no words.

You know he was up to something with the way he kept smiling so stupid. You grumble under your breath and hope he just doesn’t cause you to have a fucking aneurysm or something. You swear this man was going to send you to an early grave at this point.

Everything sounded pretty quiet out there, you heard Jungkook get up at some point but you figured he was going to smoke or get something. He even left the TV on, which you were grateful for because you didn’t do too well with silence. “What are you doing..” You mutter with closed eyes, just enjoying the hot water running down your exhausted body.

You were in the middle of reaching for your loofah when you heard the glass door open and Jungkook step in after you. “Pass me that bottle over there.” You softly hum.

Jungkook whistles softly and tugs you back into him, “Relax baby, let me do all the work.” He says in your ear, “I got you..” He gently pries the loofah out of your hands, “Worked so hard this entire week, baby deserves to rest.” He squirts some of your body wash onto the loofah. You don’t correct him because that’s true, hell you deserved this princess treatment for putting up with his ass too.

He gently ran his hand over your body, lathering your body up in the soap suds leaving you smelling like strawberries. He doesn’t try any funny business surprisingly, when he finishes he puts his hands on your shoulders and begins massaging gently. A quiet moan escapes your lips as relief rushes through you, “Damn you’re stiff as shit here.” Jungkook comments.

You lean your head back on his chest with a closed eye smile, “You’re finally being useful for once.” You chuckle.

“What are you talking about? I fuck you plenty baby, far as I know this dick makes you fall asleep faster than the fucking melatonin you take.” He laughs, making you laugh a little too. Jungkook lets your shoulders go and wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you backwards so your back is to his front. “Got you something special.” He mumbles into your shoulder.

“Did you now?” you huff in amusement and gently stroke his arm, “What did you get hm?”

“Nothing much, figured you needed a night in so I ordered some fried chicken and soju.” He lays gentle kisses over your shoulder and buries his face in your neck, “I set up a movie to watch too.”

You turn your head to face him, looking into his eyes before smiling softly and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips, “Thank you. Guess you’re not a dipshit afterall.” He laughs at your words and you ignore him, opting to press your lips against his once more. Jungkook welcomes you, his fingers dance across your tummy and inch downwards causing your breath to hitch in excitement.

Jungkook’s lips wetly smack against yours, muffled grunt leaving him as he holds you tighter against him. The kiss initially started off slow and more controlled, now it’s wet and messy with sloppy noises filling the space between you two. You pant into his mouth and your eyes flutter open to look at him pleadingly.

Jungkook grins softly as he pushes you towards the glass, “There you go baby, let loose for me, I’ll make you feel so fucking good.” He has you pressed right up against the glass, tits smushed and hands on either side of you. You bite your lip and push your ass back against his thick cock, it’s hot and throbbing against your cheek making you all the more eager to get it inside of you.

“Look at you, pussy’s drooling all over my cock,” he bites his lip and swipes his cockhead through your dewy slick folds, “hear that? ‘s your pussy callin’ out to me baby.” He pushes in slightly, letting the tip pop in with a lewd squelch.

Your lips part in a breathy moan and you push back for more but he stops you with a gentle hand on your hip. “Not here baby, relax for me.” He says as he lets his cock slip out, “Gonna fuck your pussy with my fingers first, get you nice and stretched out before I fuck you with my cock.” He cups your pussy in his hand and lets his fingers slip through the mess dripping from your folds.

Jungkook takes his time opening you up, slipping his middle and then his ring finger into you until they’re knuckle deep. Your mouth falls open but nothing comes out, this is exactly what you needed after those long hours in the office this entire week. Jungkook does not disappoint when he begins pumping them in and out slowly, making sure he hits every nook and cranny inside of you.

“There we go,” Jungkook whispers and begins kissing down your neck, “doing so good for me mama,” he sucks a hickey into your skin, “let go for me.” He nibbles on your earlobe and uses his other hand to wrap around your throat, not choking–simply holding it.

Your eyes flutter shut and you lean your head back on his shoulder, “Oh fuck yes,” you sigh in bliss, “right there.” You circle your hips, gasping when his fingers brush against your g-spot.

Jungkook pulls you back in and kisses up your neck slowly, “You’re so fuckin’ pretty baby, look at you, dripping all over my fingers like a little cock hungry slut. Bet you missed this dick baby, need me to come fuck it in your needy little pussy, have you all spread on the bed for me begging for more,” he whispers as he kisses the side of your face, “you gonna be a good girl and take it?” He jabs his fingers into your g-spot causing a burst of pleasure to hit you.

“Yeah,” you pant softly, “want it deep inside,” you bite your lip and spread your thighs a bit wider, “need it so bad.” You whimper quietly and push back on his fingers.

Jungkook chuckles breathily, “Yeah..” He moves his fingers faster, jostling you as your back arches, “Make it messy for me sweetheart, go ‘head and cum,” he has you locked in place, keeping you from moving anywhere. His fingers piston in and out of you rapidly, loud squelching noises resonating as bits of slick drip down your inner thighs.

“Oh fuck..!” You gasp and clench down, “C-Coming..” You hump his fingers desperately, “K-Keep going, right there, right there,” you whimper out and feel your orgasm come crashing down on you, hitting harder as all the stress lifts itself from your body.

Jungkook slows down until you’re whining in overstimulation, “Clean ‘em.” He slips his wet messy fingers into your mouth, “Fuck.” He groans, “C’mere baby.” He turns you around and lifts you up in his arms, “Need you on my cock.”

“Wait, the water!” You reach behind blindly to turn the knob, groaning when he begins sucking on your soft tits.

.

“Fuck..!” You throw your head back on the pillow with gritted teeth. He’s fucking you so fast and hard you’re honestly no sure what to focus on anymore..him? The skin slapping? The bed creaking? He’s not making it so easy either with the way he’s groaning and panting right by your ear.

Jungkook has you folded under him, his hands grip the back of your thighs and hold them up while he plows your swollen dripping pussy with his fat cock. The room feels stuffy, sheets are strewn about messily and you’re both laid bare in the open without a single care. Jungkook isn’t faring much better, his moans are choked up and every so often you feel him throb inside you.

“You like that baby?” He pants breathlessly against your lips, “Got you clenching so tight around my cock, practically drooling all over me.” He rolls his hips against yours smoothly, pelvis pressing down and rubbing along your clit stimulating it. His balls press against your taint with soft palping noises every time he grinds into you.

You shakily claw at his shoulders and moan needily, the angle certainly has your legs feeling like jelly and your poor cunt throbbing from the pounding he’s giving you. “Love it,” you turn your face to slot your lips against his messily, “fills me up so good baby.” You cup his face in your hands and hold him in place while he works his cock in and out of you.

Jungkook lets out a muffled moan as he starts picking up the pace, hips smacking into yours over and over again with deafening slaps. He lets your thighs go in favor of planting them on either side of you on the bed, “Hear that sloppy little pussy? Got it creaming all over my cock and makin’ a mess. Who’s fuckin’ you baby? C’mon tell me.”

“You are.” You whimper out, “Shit–right there,” you mewl.

“That’s right sweetheart, no one else can give it to you the way I can. You can fucking try but at the end of the day this pussy is mine to fuck,” slap, “mine to use,” slap, “mine to breed.” He growls in your ear lowly, “Gonna ruin you for anyone else, so next the time you plan on letting someone else have it you’ll be remembering the way I fucked you so good.” He hisses softly and sits up, landing a set of punishing thrusts on you, making your body bounce a bit off the mattress.

Your head rolls back and you let out a series of staccato moans, crying out for more and scrambling to grip the bed sheets, the pillows, the blankets–anything. He’s fucking you within an inch of your life and you feel like you’re about to pass out from the sweet pleasure mixed with a tiny hint of pain from the way his hips smack into your ass. “Jungkook..!” You sob out.

Jungkook grits his teeth and reaches down to pinch your clit cruelly, relishing in the way your back arches off the bed. “Go on, cum for me little mama.”

With perfectly aimed thrusts and the combination of his fingers on your sensitive bud, you cum for a second time on his cock. He leaves you trembling on the bed, whimpering and whining. Jungkook follows up shortly with a low moan and your name escaping his lips, “Fucking hell.” He whispers breathlessly.

You let your jelly-like legs fall on the bed, “I’m not getting up.” You mutter, “Put the chicken away, ‘m going to sleep..” You turn on your side and curl up, shivering when his cock slips out of your battered pussy.

Jungkook hums, “The things I do for you baby,” he sighs softly as he strokes your thigh up and down, “lucky I love and appreciate you mama so much.” He rolls out of bed and slips his loose sweats on.

“You love me.” You sleepily mumble, “ ‘n you love my pussy.. I love your dick too.” You smile in your sleep, a bit delirious from the fucking and the strong orgasm he had given you.

Jungkook eyes you with a grin, “Damn right I do.”

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys @frieschan

[maythearo]

" Welcome back to Night Raven College's 'Ghostly Gossip'! The school's unofficial main online source for the latest news, articles and trending topics circulating around campus! "

" attention attention! we interrupt this broadcast to inform all readers that the ghostly gossip team have at last caught the student responsible for all the (unauthorized) written remarks from previous entries! We sincerely apologize for the inconvenience! (although admittedly, he does not...) "

Navigation:

R. Rosehearts ▪︎ T. Clover ▪︎ C. Diamond ▪︎ A. Trappola ▪︎ D. Spade ▪︎ L. Kingscholar ▪︎ R. Bucchi ▪︎ J. Howl ▪︎ A. Ashengrotto ▪︎ J. Leech ▪︎ F. Leech ▪︎ K. Al Asim ▪︎ J. Viper ▪︎ V. Schoenheit ▪︎ R. Hunt ▪︎ E. Felmier ▪︎ I. Shroud ▪︎ O. Shroud ▪︎ M. Draconia ▪︎ L. Vanrouge ▪︎ S. Zigvolt ▪︎ Silver

Design notes:

This took way longer to post than I expected mainly because of imposter syndrome and constantly thinking I could do more for his entry but, I'll keep this as Ace's main style anyway. It's pretty simple compared to previous designs, but to be fair, devil Ace's personality and shenanigans would stand out enough to compensate for that matter LOL

As I said on Deuce's post, I wanted to connect their designs in some aspects, so yeah! Complementary color pallettes! That's why they both have few shades that stand out of their main monochrome colors, Deuce is blues and greens, while Ace stays around red and oranges!

Fashion-wise now, I initially pictured him pulling a lot more references from 80s men fashion, but ig by the end I accidentally strayed away from that and somehow incorporated a more "modern" influence to it? Man I'm very bad at describing the creative process and vibes of my designs but what else is new 😭😭 ANYWAYS, off topic but I should mention that, as you can see I'll throw in a high heel in any characters that give me the opportunity to do so, this one especially, I had Cleo's "dawn of the dance" heels in the back of my mind while designing, ( I forgot to include in the image above again 😔) which fun fact, was my first Monster High doll I got as a kid, so-!!! That's a shoe style that I'm very fond of KWDNWKSNSK

LORE DUMP TIME, ok so given each characters unique scare-itage, the way the cast interact with each other and build relationships could somehow differ from how they interact in og twisted wonderland! For example, since MH!Ace is THE devil from THE bible (/ref) he probably shares a common background, or have met Vil and Idia before they enrolled in MH!NRC together! That's such a funny thing to think about for me. Who would have thought they'd ever be a trio of great childhood friends?

[turcott3]

wrapped around your finger

luca fantilli x fem! reader (ft. umich hockey team and gfs!!)

warnings?: cursing, alcohol, unprotected sex (p in v, public sex, spanking, choking (not really but kinda?), hair pulling, happy ending🥳

masterlist

-

“are yall ready yet?” rutger yells from the foyer.

“yes one second.” you yell back, deciding against the extra setting spray. it wasn’t hot outside, it’s not like you were going to sweat it off.

“we gotta go, i want a good view.” luca says grabbing his keys out of the bowl and heading outside. you opted to ride with luca since the group had to split but you always found yourself gravitating to him. the two of you had never spent time alone together but you always had a slight attachment to him, better described as a little bitty crush.

“have you looked at the set list yet?” he asked you, who got lucky and sat shotgun. the group was going to see post malone, and everyone was excited to go and get sloshed.

“i haven’t, i’ll check now.” you simply state opening spotify and reading it out to him.

“fuck this is gonna be so good.” he says, excitement lining his tone.

“does this venue id?” tyler asks from the backseat.

“no.” you answer quickly.

“may i ask how you know this?” luca giggles.

“i’ve been before, got absolutely hammered.” you say, reminiscing the last concert you attended.

“sweet, tj you’re off the hook,” he says patting the ginger on the back.

“thank god. they would’ve thought i was a fucking alcoholic buying all of those drinks.” he says, relief practically oozing out of him. you pulled into the venue closely behind your friends in the other car.

“everyone got their shit?” rutger asks and everyone replies ‘yes’ before shutting his trunk and locking the car. you made your way inside the venue, quickly finding a place to sit with a decent view of the stage. you loved that this tour was all outdoor shows considering the temperature in michigan in the summer was perfect. you laid your towel out and sat down, luca sitting his towel right next to yours.

“you’re gonna be my designated concert buddy?” you ask laughing at the position he sat in.

“sure am, we never really spend any time together so i figured this was a perfect opportunity.” he smiles and you giggle in response, keeping your cheeks from turning too red.

“drinks for the lot of ya!” jacob yells in a tacky british accent, approaching the group with tj, multiple beers and seltzers for everyone in hand.

“a seltzer for you of course.” luca says, handing you one of the drinks he grabbed.

“you just know my drinking habits so well don’t you.”

“we’ve been to parties together and how many times have i held your hair while you threw up?”

“it was twice luca.”

“and? i still did it.” he says and you roll your eyes, a smile spreading in your cheeks. it didn’t take too long for the openers to begin their set. you had never heard of them so you talked through it. you spoke with a couple of the guys and their girlfriends, luca talking to adam on the phone, sipping his beer. you couldn’t help but notice that he chose to sit with you, but you didn’t want to overanalyze. you drank and drank some more, without even realizing it. you were already somewhat drunk by the time the openers were finished, which wasn’t your intention.

“hey y/n.” luca asks nudging you.

“huh?”

“are you already drunk?”

“yep sure am, you?”

“a little buzz, nothing too crazy yet.”

“i am fully prepared to be absolutely fucked tonight.“ you reply, his expression becoming more difficult to read.

-

when post malone’s set finally began, you cracked a tall boy open, shot gunning it as well as you could. when you sucked the can dry you threw it on the ground out of breath, almost instantly feeling more drunk than before.

“luca.” you said, your words dragging out in a slur.

“what is it?” he asks, shoving his phone back in his pocket, his eyes reading drunk. you step closer to the boy, wrapping your arm around his back, singing whatever song was playing. you felt him do the same, his hand resting just above your ass on your hip.

the two of you sang together loudly and obnoxiously.

“can i try that?” you ask about the beer he held.

“yeah here.” he says, watching you intensely as you took a large sip.

“that is disgusting.” you reply, wiping your face with your hand as he chuckles. you leaned your head on his shoulder as you listened to the loud music. once the song ended you looked at yourself in the snapchat camera, makeup still in place just as you hoped. you couldn’t tell if the alcohol was clouding your judgment but you were feeling things. all the touching and flirting that had gone on over the last hour had your mind spinning.

“fuck i need a bathroom. luca come with me, i don’t wanna get kidnapped.” you say with a glimmer in your eye. a smirk grows on the boys face.

“okay, hey guys i’m taking her to the bathroom.” he yells at the group before you drag him off by his wrist.

“what’s got you in a hurry, we’ll still be able to hear it.” he giggles, jogging after you. you find a single stall, family restroom unoccupied. you open the door and pull the brunette inside with you.

“ive been wanting to get you alone all night.” you admit.

“i can’t say i haven’t felt the same way.” he replies, slurring his words. you two were both plastered but you know what they say about drunk words. in an instant, the boy pushes you by your biceps against the cold cinderblock wall, attaching your lips hastily and sloppily. your hands find their way into his hair, gripping at the strands as he swipes his tongue over your lip begging for entry. you swear hours pass by before he backs away.

“you look so fucking sexy tonight y/n.” he smirks as you two find your way to the sink.

“fuck you make me so horny.” you mutter, squeezing your thighs together as he picks you up and places you on the counter. your short skirt gave him easy access to your throbbing core, running fingers over your soaked panties and sucking them clean.

“god you taste so good.” he smirks, reconnecting your lips again, giving you a taste for yourself. he pulls away with hazy eyes, squatting down quickly and pulling your panties to the side.

“oh my fucking god.” you yell at the contact. his tongue twisted your already swollen bud in circles, sucking and rubbing it in a rhythmic fashion.

“fuck.” you say, gripping onto the boys hair as you finished, quicker than you could’ve imagined. he stands back up, his face soaked in your cum.

“you’re fucking incredible.” he says and you grab him by his shirt, which you unbuttoned hastily after you aggressively reattached your lips. he helped you finish the job as he pulled away, unbuttoning his denim shorts and pulling his throbbing cock out as quickly as he could. you stared at his tip as it leaked with precum and the pure size of him. he rubbed himself harder with a few strokes before looking back up at you.

“fuck me luca. please.” you beg and he instantly caves, pushing himself into you, his hands pressed against the mirror as he pushed into you for the first time. you moaned at the sensation. his tip hit the sweet spot buried deep inside you without even trying.

“god.” you moan out and he grunts. he thrusts into you deep and hard as he pounds into you at a decent speed. your moans snapping a high pitch after the first few thrusts. the music was quickly drowned out by the sounds of your yelps in a bathroom with poor acoustics.

“such a good girl taking me like this.” he smirks at you.

“you feel so good, god lu.” you say, your fingers gripping the hair on the back of his head.

“do you think anyone can hear me?” you ask.

“i fucking hope so.” he smirks, sloppily landing his lips back on yours as he stretches you out with every thrust.

“get down and bend over for me pretty girl.” he simply requests and you do so, resting your stomach on the edge of the counter. he pushes your skirt up further.

“look at that ass, god damn.” he says spanking you once before placing a gentle hand on your, now bright red, ass cheek pushing himself back into you. he grabs onto your hips pulling you onto him as he thrusts. your eyes roll into the back of your head with overstimulation, your sweaty hand slapping onto the mirror for better stability. he pounds into you at an unforgiving speed, wanting to get a good climax out of it. he wraps his hand around your hair, pulling you up flush against his chest as he continues his quick thrusts into you, turning you from moaning to practically yelling. gently he wrapped a hand around your throat as you looked in the mirror at the two of you. your mascara now smeared around your eyes, his cheeks red and forehead dotted with beads of sweat from the steamed bathroom.

“look at you, taking me so fucking good huh?” he asks, making eye contact with you in the mirror. he bucks into you sharply, a yelp leaving your mouth in an instant. carefully, he picks you back up, placing you on the counter. you could tell by the speed that he was getting closer, but the fact of the matter was that you were even closer. he pushes back into you easily sliding back in, a sensation you could never get used to. the way he hit your sweet spot was almost more intoxicating than all the alcohol you drank that lead you to this moment.

“fuck luca, i’m gonna come.” you moan, your nails digging harshly into his back, your speech broken up by his spastic and deep thrusts. moments later, you feel your body relax as a knot came undone in your abdomen. he fucked you right through your high into his own climax. spilling his seed deep inside you. he pressed his forehead to your chest as the two of you sat, gasping for air for a few moments. he runs his fingers through the salty mix of your climaxes between your legs attempting to somewhat clean you up, his drunk mind not thinking about the toilet paper that sat on the back of the toilet 2 feet away from you. you grab his hand and suck his fingers clean, surprising him and showing him that you swallowed every drop of the nasty mixture.

“fucking god y/n you’re gorgeous, let me help you down.” he says, tucking himself back in his pants, lending his hands for you to hop off the counter. you pull your panties back over your sensitive core, and tug your skirt down.

“lu, can you help me fix my makeup.” you whine, referring to the black streaks that formed around your eyes.

“yes baby, hold still.” he says, your heart fluttering at the pet name. he licks he thumb, gently wiping away the mess from around your eyes.

“how does that look?” he asks as you turn around.

“good enough.” you giggle turning back around.

“luca your hair. i’m sorry.” you giggle as he smiles, wrapping his strong arms around you.

“i don’t care about my hair.” he says as you press your cheek to the warm skin of his chest.

“we should go back.” you say patting him on the chest.

“yeah they’re probably getting suspicious by now.” he giggles, taking your hand and unlocking the door, seeing a long line outside the bathroom. the two of you chuckle as you jog past the impatient people in line, back to your spot on the lawn.

“you missed like 6 songs, where the fuck were you gu- oh.” rutger started before getting a good look at you two.

“what?” you ask.

“oh nothing.” he giggles, whispering to his girlfriend who he stood next to.

“girl where did you go?” franks girlfriend asks, tugging you away from luca’s side.

“i had to uh-“ you start and then turn around to see luca dapping up his teammates, clearly spilling what had gone on in the bathroom, “we fucked.”

“in the bathroom?” jacob’s girlfriend says interrupting.

“yeah we did.” you smirk.

“well was it at least good?” frank’s girlfriend asks.

“oh my god yes. his dick is so big, i don’t think i would wanna fuck anyone else like ever again.” you giggle with them, your drunkness seeping back into your vocabulary.

“you guys would be cute, i see the vision.” she says stepping back and looking at both of you.

“i think we would be too, not to be vain or anything.” you joke.

“go for it babe, luca doesn’t fuck just to fuck. or at least that’s what jacob’s told me. he fucks to date.” she says nudging you on the arm.

“honestly i probably will go for it, let’s see how this goes, hey lu?” you call out, catching his attention instantly. he walks over, hugging you to his side.

“what’s up?” he asks, his thumb grazing over the fabric of your skirt.

“maybe you guys are right.” you laugh and he appears confused. the two of you enjoy the rest of the concert, hugging onto each other and singing your hearts out for the final few songs.

-

“everyone’s asleep.” luca giggles as you pulled back into the driveway.

“awe look at them so cute.” you reply.

“are you gonna regret what we did tonight?” he asks, his voice in a whisper.

“not in the slightest.” you say placing a hand on his cheek and connecting your lips softly for a moment.

“you have no idea how badly i wanted to hear you say that.” he smiles as you pull away slightly.

“i can’t let anyone else have that dick or that hair. or just that boy in general.” you say locking eyes with him. instead of replying he reconnects your lips once again, the kiss lingering for a what seems like an eternity. an eternity that you hoped would never come to an end.

“we should wake them up.” you whisper on his lips.

“yeah probably.” he smiles, pecking your lips one last time before waking everyone up to come inside.

-

[orchidyoonkook]

To What We Were Before, And All The Things After | JJK | Ch. 7

Title: Hard Goodbyes and Favourite Colours

Pairing: Prince!College Student!JK x Fine Arts Major!(F)!Reader

Series Rating//Genre: (M) | College AU, Mild Royalty AU, Smut, Angst, Fluff, S2F2L, Indiffernce to lovers, sloooowwww ass burn

Summary: Nel flies home, Yuri flies back, Jungkook can't stop thinking about the other night. And you? Gods, don't even get me started.

Warnings: T, language, fluff (?), angst, reader is ~not~ okay for a chunk of this, bye bye Nel! it was nice to meet you, Yuri being the bestie she is, playful antagonism, JK thinking a lot, some photography technical words but nothing scary, reader is painting again, shocker.

Word Count: 4,463

Release Date: July 9, 2024. 2:00PM

A/N 1: Hi this was supposed to be released like a month and a half ago but then i went to europe and my brain was anywhere but near electronics. Anywhooo here she is, as always thanks for waiting and I'll try to be more consistent now that post vacation depression has kicked in.

Series: Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six

Sometimes life works out incredibly conveniently for you, like when Nel’s flight leaves a half hour before Yuri’s gets in at the same airport. 

But then it sucks again as your week with Nel flies by so quickly it feels like you’ve had no time at all while also having so much because of all the new memories you’ve both made. 

Currently in a rideshare and airport bound, because you will be in no way okay to drive back, your grip on Nel’s hand is strangling as you take in every last second of time you can get with him. He keeps giving kisses to your forehead, nose, cheeks, mouth; anywhere he can get access to really. 

He doesn't want this week to end just as much as you don’t. Fuck this fucking sucks so much.

The driver pulls up to the terminal drop off, and you both exit. Nel grabs his bag from the trunk, now filled with little mementos from your week as well as his clothes. A pressed flower from the greenhouse, museum postcards, a doodle you did for him while he was sketching, and more, all tucked away for safekeeping. All the only physical things he can hold onto until he sees you next. 

Walking into the airport, you make your way up to the check in desk, paperwork already in hand. Nel checks in and you request an escort pass, determined to spend every last moment together. 

There’s a lump forming in your throat that you’re trying to swallow. It’s thick, like a ball of unending peanut butter you can’t get down. And your chest feels like a black hole has opened inside of it, right where your heart is supposed to be. Every second that ticks away allowing another drop of the warmth you have with him to be sucked right out of your sternum.

Painful doesn’t even begin to describe this feeling. 

As beautiful as your week was, the reality of the present is setting in, and the closer you get to his gate, the closer you are to tears. You’re trying your best to blink them away, but you won’t be seeing him until winter break, and even then, that’ll only be for a day or two at most before you have to wait till summer to see him again. So it might as well be goodbye for those full 6 months.

It hurts. It hurts so bad to have to go through this over and over again, to have this separation from the one you love, even if it’s only temporary. Funny how temporary can sometimes feel like forever when you’re in the middle of it. 

Funny how the concept of temporary doesn’t make the gash in your heart open any less.

You don’t want him to go, but you know he has too. The faster he goes, the faster he can come back to you. 

You hate that he has to go in the first place. You just want him to stay. Please, just stay.

But he can’t. 

You reach his gate and before you know it, his flight’s being called to board and your tears refuse to stay inside any longer, the lump succeeding in its plot of victory. They spill down your cheeks in silent rivers, wet splotches on the neckline of your shirt forming as they flow. 

Maybe they’ll create a little lake in the hole he’s leaving you with. There’s certainly enough of them to fill it. Something to fill the void a little until you can see him again.

Nel takes one look before scooping you into a crushing hug, a desperate echo of the one from a week ago. His own tears now staining.

“I love you so much,” he says. You don’t see his eyes squeeze shut, nor do you see him memorizing your smell, as he kisses the top of your head. And his voice wobbles as he whispers, “It’s not forever, it’s just for now.” 

He says those words every time you two part, whether it was for a day or a year. Never goodbye or so long. Never see you later. 

They’ve always been a small comfort in otherwise shitty situations. 

“Just for now,” you get out through quiet sobs, gripping onto him even tighter as you shake. 

It takes you a couple deep breaths before you can say anything without breaking. “I love you too. Please be safe, message me when you land, and do well on your final exams.”

He smiles at that last bit, and your tears free themselves again. You’re going to miss seeing that smile in person.

Nel pulls you in once more, tighter. “It’s always harder when my good luck charm is halfway across the world, but I’ll manage.” Your sobs stutter with a broken laugh, and you’re pretty sure his sweater is going to have tear stains on it. “I promise I’ll message as soon as I can. And I’d wish you luck but you never need it. You always do well.”

The announcement for final boarding calls and both of you freeze in each other's arms. You don’t want him to go. He doesn’t want to go.

But he has too. 

You separate only enough to kiss. It’s messy and wet and gross, but you don’t care. It’s the last one you’ll have for a while and you never want it to end. 

But it does. 

Nel pulls away, and you reluctantly let him. He grabs his bag with one hand, the other holding onto both of yours as he backs away until he can no longer reach. Your arms drop to your sides with the traces of his warmth on your skin.

You watch as the boarding crew welcomes him on, and he takes one look back at you. 

You wave, mouthing ‘I love you.’

He mouths ‘I love you’ right back, and turns the corner.

You waited for Yuri at her terminal after dropping off Nel and taking five—okay ten—minutes to violently sob in the bathroom. 

She took one look at your half smile and puffy eyes and smothered you in a hug. Smelling like sunshine and ocean water, it was exactly what you needed. 

“It’s okay Sweets, you’ll see him again before you know it. This year will pass by so fast, just you see,” she tells you through your whimpers, the tears having returned the second her arms were around you.

They dry sometime on the way home. It was a thirty minute ride back to school, and they fell silently for a solid twenty before you even got in.

You hate goodbyes. 

But Yuri’s seen this three times now, and she always knew that a warm drink and junk food were in your immediate shared futures when she did. Screw healthy coping methods. It may be 9:30pm on a Sunday night, but that won’t stop you from downing a pint as you drown your sorrows in sweet, sweet cookies n cream. 

Yuri also knows you need a distraction, so she doesn’t hold back on telling you every detail of her vacation. 

The duke from a few weeks ago had been a dud. ‘Shit personality and even shittier sex’ according to Yuri. No consultation needed. 

But this new guy from the Ilcalos Islands sounds promising. He’s a Count of something she can’t remember but in her words, “big heart and even bigger dick.” 

That makes you giggle. And you’re happy for her. 

“Bitch, the second night he did this thing with his tongue and an ice cube and oh. my. god. I think I’m in love. That man could do whatever he wanted to me and I’d still say thank you afterwards,” she’s rambling at this point and you’re mentally apologizing to the driver for having to hear all of it. 

You, on the other hand, don’t mind at all; gladly welcome it actually. You want your mind anywhere other than the present right now. 

You don’t want to start crying all over again. By the morning you’ll be fine, you’ll have let out everything you needed too. But between then and now, it’s a matter of mentioning the wrong words or seeing an intriguingly designed building that could trigger those pesky tear ducts.

So you listen to Yuri go on and on about this guy, all his techniques and what she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about since she last saw him. His number is already saved in her phone under a very inappropriate name, but you expect nothing less from her. 

You love her for it. For this. 

For knowing what you need to stay afloat right now and not allowing you to throw the anchor overboard with your leg chained to the end.

You really fucking hate goodbyes. 

You’re staring at him. 

Like, full on, no bars held, staring at him. 

And Jungkook’s pretending he doesn’t notice.

You’re sitting in your chair and he’s back in his beside you at greenhouse cafe. Your half done painting of pink flowers sits in front of you, his laptop screen’s filled with this week's newly assigned ‘Studio Portrait Techniques 1’ homework. 

His half finished coffee on his table. An empty pastry bag on yours.

His hands on his keyboard, yours gripping a brush.

And you’re staring at him. 

He’s hoping it’s because this is the first time you’ve seen him since Nel left. 

But it’s probably to do with the fact that he hasn’t looked at you once today. Or the fact that he’s barely spoken at all when he usually can’t seem to shut up when it’s been more than 48 hours since he last saw you. 

Because it’s also the first time he’s seen you since he was with Adaline, imaging she wasn’t Adaline.

“You’re acting weird,” you say.

“No I’m not,” he responds a little too quickly, eyes still focused on his computer.

Yes he is. He really, totally is. 

“Yes you are, you won't look at me and you’ve barely said two words since I got here.” Well your knack for observancy is still intact.

Normally that's a good thing, but right now?

“Did I do something wrong?”

No. No you didn’t.

He did.

He let his emotions get the best of him in a moment of weakness. He let himself become so overwhelmed with feelings he isn’t allowed to have. He let them win for a single night.

And now if he isn’t paying the goddamned consequences. 

After that night with Adaline, Jungkook had woken up filled with regret. He’d crossed a line he didn’t even know he should have drawn in very dark, very permanent ink.

For letting himself, just for one moment, imagine what it would be like to be with…

And things are harder than ever to shove down now. He can’t look even look at you without thinking about it. About what he did. What he wanted. 

Wants.

Fuck, he’s in over his head.

Jungkook forces himself to look at you, putting his years of social training and emotional masking to good use. It sure as hell came in handy during times like this.

Because you can never know. 

He can’t lose you because he's unable to get his shit together. It’s not your fault he feels like this. 

So he lies. Both to you and to himself, hoping it might help him believe it.

“Nothing’s wrong Dali, just focused on my work is all. We got assigned a big project on Monday and I’m planning out all my shoots.”

You look hesitant, like you can see right through his bullshit excuse that was only a half excuse because this project is massive. 

“If you say so,” your tone implying you don’t believe him, but thankfully, you let it go and lean closer to him to see. He pretends his breathing doesn’t hitch, “What’s the project?”

“It’s my final assignment for a class, I have to do a series of five portraits. Each one with a different style, capturing a different emotion, and they all have to be of the same subject to show the true versatility of my work. It’s easy to make things look different when it’s different people being photographed,” he explains.

Therefore, this assignment, and all of its working parts, is huge. He’s glad it’s due in the middle of December because it’s going to take him almost a month of planning to get it all together; backdrops, concepts, costumes, previsualization, focal lengths, props, equipment, lighting setups, etc. And then when the planning is over: to shoot, narrow down and edit. 

But that’s the point of it. To have the students demonstrate they know how to effectively expand on the definition of a ‘portrait’ instead of having one concept in mind and sticking to it. 

‘To broaden your creative approaches to seemingly simple constructs,’ as his professor would say.

He loves the way this professor does assignments. How she layers them so that not only does he learn how to shoot multi-concept ideas for the same project type, allowing him to add to his creative portfolio, but they also force him to break out of the expected conclusions for an idea and think outside the box. 

“Oh wow, that is a lot,” you say. Because you understand long running projects. 50 hour paintings don’t just happen in a day. “Do you have any ideas yet?”

“Yeah! I have them all already, actually,” he turns his computer towards you and you see a point by point list of summarized ideas.

- Bright and bold - happy, bright smile, colourful gels - Black and white, soft light: gel or bounce? Silk diffuser  - profile with water falling on face - relieved - Focused on passion - candid, regular colour. Diffuser? Or silk flag? - Normal colour profile, stark lighting - serious, front facing body, profile facing left, no visible clothing, “regal” _|(_*-*)>_. Flag.  - Mysterious - black background, white smoke, barely visible model, lower half of face painted black, upper half white, striking purple eyes (contacts?). Flags. Gels? 

“I’m really excited for this project,” he says, “it’s just the prep that’s going to take a while. Getting it all mapped and planned out. It’s mostly concepts right now.”

You nod, understanding once again. Though very different mediums, visual arts and photography are similar in many ways. 

“Adaline going to be your model?”

It doesn’t surprise him you think that, but he has no intentions of ever using Adaline for assignments or homework. 

“Actually, I… uhh…” he trails off. Jungkook’s trying to get the words out, he is. But they’re surprisingly difficult for some reason, and getting caught in his throat. 

Which makes his earlier anxious state come back in full force. 

It shouldn't be this difficult. It won’t be the first, second or fifth time he’s asked you.

Get the words out Jeon. Put on your professional face, this is nothing new.

He fails, instead, his voice comes out barely above a whisper as he says, “I was going to ask you if you would.”

You somehow hear him. 

“Me?” you look dumbfounded. 

“Yes, you.” He’s always used you for homework assignments before, so he’s not sure why all of a sudden this is surprising. Maybe because it’s a final assignment versus a weekly one? The effort will be greater? 

“But you have Adaline? I assumed that she would take up the position of model when you guys started going out.”

Oh. That makes more sense. 

But that is one mistake he won’t be making again, because he did ask Adaline. 

Once.

It was recent, Nel was still here and he didn’t want to disturb you because of that. Plus Jungkook was just trying to get a jump on his upcoming assignments anyway, taking a page from your book.

So he asked Adaline. And she leapt at the opportunity, like he expected.

What he didn’t expect, was when she essentially directed, staged, lit and posed every. single. shot. so that she would look her best. 

All he did was click the capture image button when she said too. 

And after the shoot, before he could even think to look at the pictures, Adaline was already there, holding his camera, going through them and deleting any picture she deemed ‘ugly.’

He was left with less than 20 images from the shoot where he was ordered to take over 200. And she even made him switch out one of the three he narrowed down for one she liked better. 

So no, he would not be asking Adaline to model. 

Ever again.

“Nah. You’re a lot easier to work with because you don't care how the pictures turn out, and let me do my thing. Adaline cares a bit too much, and has to have approval on all of them before I submit.”

You snort. “Seriously? Is she that self absorbed?” a quirked brow places itself on your face to match the smirk now on your mouth.

That’s new.

Your tone towards Adaline has always been neutral, if not a bit sharp when he talks about her. 

But this one? It’s like you know her, and knew she was like that, but didn’t know it was this severe. 

Adaline is very popular...maybe you two met and it didn't go well?

It certainly sounds like you don’t like her, if those six words were anything to go by. Which, he guesses they shouldn’t, but he knows you well enough by now to know the difference.

And if he’s honest, that wouldn’t shock him in the slightest. You two are nothing alike, and thank god for that. 

He covers for Adaline, like any boyfriend would. Though it stings a little bit.

“She’s just careful about what images could be leaked to the press. Can’t really blame her for that.”

Your face changes minutely, as if a second of understanding passes through before you turn to go back to your painting, and mutter, “no, you can’t,” placing a splash of pink on a flower. 

He returns to his work as well, switching the portrait assignment out for a different one. He needs to get his mind off it for a while before circling back. 

And the fact that you didn’t answer him. 

Deciding on a Design and Visual Culture assignment due next week, he dives in head first, resuming his earlier state of focus and avoidance.

Jungkook’s editing a picture when you stretch. 

You often hunch over your work, so you try to stretch every 30 minutes or so. Your arms are in the air and he catches a peek at the nearly finished floral study. 

They’re some kind of vibrant pink dangling flowers, and you’ve captured the likeness of them quite well, to no surprise of his, so he goes to compliment it but you beat him to the punch.

“Shots blurry.”

Jungkook does a double take at his laptop screen. He’d spent the better part of 40 minutes editing the image and hadn’t noticed that.

Because it’s not. It’s perfectly crisp and clear.

When he looks back to you, you have a shit eating grin on your face. 

Ah, he knows that look. 

You love to tease him about little things like that, giving him mini heart attacks. ‘Pay back for that first day,’ you claim. 

Well…

Two can play this game, so he plays off your comment.

“Oh, you're right. Thanks,” and he switches to another image. 

Your grin falters but you recover quickly.

“No problem.”

See, while you know how to playfully harass him about his pictures, Jungkook knows how…particular you are about your colours. How they need to be labelled correctly instead of by their umbrella terms like ‘blue’ or ‘red.’ Because blue or red could mean any one of the dozens of ‘sub colours.’

‘It’s not blue, it’s cerulean,’ you’d remark. 

‘That’s not red, it’s burgundy,’ you’d correct him.

You’re always correcting him, and it makes his pants tighten a little bit every time. But that’s on the other side of the line he does not cross anymore. A nice, big, fat, permanent, protective line. 

Jungkook settles for a more subtle method of attack. Using this little fact and your ridiculously extensive knowledge of flowers against you. 

He never thought the defense and attack lessons his father put him through would come in handy like this. But he’s glad for them now. It was the only time he could ever outsmart you.

He gestures to your canvas. “Those pink flowers are pretty, what are they called?” 

“Their common name is Lady’s Eardrop. And they’re magenta.”

Hook, line, sinker. 

He doesn’t even have to try, you walk right into it every time.

“Lady’s eardrop? That’s a weird name…do they come in other colours besides pink?”

You don’t look up as you reply. 

“Magenta, and yeah. Some are plum and magenta, some are a buttery white and magenta, and then some have this like, almost dark tangerine hue, but they’re a different type, longer. Not the same as those,” you point with the end of your brush to the greenhouse, where the fully magenta lady’s eardrop sits in the window. 

“And are these pink ones your favourite?” he’s really trying his best to keep a straight face as yours contorts with an eye twitch at every use of the word.

“They’re. Magenta. And sure, but the plum ones are pretty too.”

“Noted, the pink lady's eardrop are your favourite among eardrops.”

You break, turning to him, voice raising in minor annoyance. Jungkook bites his cheeks to keep a smile at bay.

“They are magenta. Not pink. Pink entails a lighter hue, there’s more titanium white in pink. That,” you point again, “is very clearly, magenta.”

He has to. 

He can’t help it. 

You’re sexy when you're assertive, he thinks. Tip toeing on that nice, big line.

But also hilarious. 

“Same difference.”

He can see the fire in your eyes blaze.

“No, not ‘same difference,’ they’re magenta!”

He’s leaning in. “Pink,” eyeing your lips as you speak. 

You lean in too, enunciating every syllable to prove your point. “Ma-gen-ta.”

Your noses are mere inches from touching. 

“They’re pink, Van Gogh,” he backs off before he does something stupid that he’ll regret, “Don’t get so invested.”

You back off too, sass still very evident when you reply, “They’re fucking magenta, asshat. Two completely different colours and you’ll label them as such around me.”

You’ve always had a mouth on you. One you aren’t scared to use when necessary, especially around him. So he doesn’t push any farther, knowing he’s already gotten what he wanted and then some. 

But also because sitting has become slightly uncomfortable. There was a stiff breeze, he tells himself.

Thank god for baggy, oversized hoodies. 

Returning once again to his work, he puts an elbow on the table and places his hand on the left side of his face to hide the massive smile that’s trying its best to turn into a smothered laugh.

Unfortunately for him, he lets his Princely guard down around you and so he forgets to force it down to an uncomfortable degree like he would at the palace. His laugh slipping out as a strangled noise and he quickly turns it into a cough, hoping you don't notice. 

But you do, because it’s you. Of course you do.

And the look on your face is priceless.

“You did that on purpose!”

“What?” he says way too high pitched. “Nooo, I would never, one hundred percent intentionally, say pink just to get back at you for pointing out the non-existent blur in my perfectly clear picture.”

He can see you trying to control your features, can see you failing and giving up by facing your canvas again, smiling to yourself.

“I was wondering how many times I could get you to say it. I think that was somewhere around ten? Gotta be a new record.”

You roll your eyes at him, but your quirked mouth remains. 

“You’re such a dick,” you quip.

“Yet, you like me anyways.”

You mumble something incoherent.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“Awe, c’mon now. Fess up.”

A pause, before, “I said I just remembered I don’t know your favourite colour.”

No you most certainly did not, but he’ll let it slide.

“Black.”

“Ugh, boring.”

“What?”

“Boring,” you say again with absolutely no hesitation and proceed to grace his eyes with your own. “And technically not a colour. Black’s a shade.”

Jungkook offers up a non-smothered chuckle, saving his throat from further shenanigans.

“Whatever, Seurat, it’s still black. What about you? What’s Miss High and Mighty All Knowing of Colours’ favorite?”

“It’s still a shade,” you repeat.

“It’s still my favourite. Answer the question,” he presses. 

You give him an unimpressed stare. 

“Violet. Royal violet. The one your dad wears a lot,” your expression softens to one of wonder as you continue. Like you didn't just refer to the King of the nation you live in as ‘his dad’ so casually. “And when it’s not that, it’s this bright yellow. Like sunflowers or daffodils. Or the colour leaves turn in the fall when the light hits them from above just right.”

It’s Jungkook's turn to stare now. You look lost in your own head, envisioning the colours you describe, seeing them dancing in your eyes. And he can’t help himself, you glow when you speak about something you're passionate about.

“Why two?” 

“Why not?” you answer, still dreaming, colours swimming in oceans of thought. Your voice is almost whimsical. “Don’t you get bored of one colour for too long? It’s nice to switch things up every now and then.”

His reply brings you back down to earth, albeit slowly.

“Red.”

“Hmm?” you touch ground.

“If you won’t accept black, then red. The rich dark one, like blood.” He chose the first colour that came into mind, not really caring which one. 

He did like red. Red looked good in many ways. On cars, clothes, lips...

But he chose the first one that popped into mind because after hearing your favourite colours and the reasons why, he started to like them more than all the others too.

“Red’s a great choice, strong,” you say, allowing him the blanket term just this once.

“Thanks.”

There’s a moment of comfortable quiet between you before you break it.

“When do you need me for the shoot?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows find his hairline. 

That was a yes, right? You’re saying yes?

“Uhm…soon, I’ll let you know the specifics when I do.”

“Sounds good.”

He was going to leave it at that, but adds, “Thanks, Y/N.”

He hasn’t said your name since the assembly. 

Always nicknames when talking to you. Always. 

Never your name. 

Not once in two months. Almost three.

You—

An inhale.

You…like it.

The way it sounds coming from his lips.

Exhale.

Chapter Eight: Photo Shoots and Blasphemous Discoveries

A/N 2: She's shorter but chapter 8 is like 11k so far, so I hope that makes up for it!

A/N 3: As always, Thank you for reading, loves. Xoxo - Yoon <3

<- Back

[lunastrophe]

BG3 Drow Lore 🕷️ Minthara's alurlssrin

Alurlssrin is a drow term Minthara uses to describe the bond she shares with Tav - but what does it precisely mean?

🕷️ Alurlssrin In BG3 - alurlssrin appears in some specific Minthara’s lines, when the player character romances her. According to Narrator, it is …a word used rarely, describing the deepest bonds of trust and love.

When asked about it, Minthara says simply that alurlssrin means “love” and confesses that she never really expected to use it. In another line, she seems to be convinced that alurlssrin is the kind of bond that can be life-lasting.

When Tav tries to reciprocate, saying: I alurlssrin you too, Minthara – with a hint of amusement – explains that alurlssrin is a noun.

The alurl- part may suggest that this word means “the best” kind of an emotional bond, or something close to it (alurl – “best, foremost” in Drowic).

🕷️ Alurlssrin And Ssinssrigg - in R. A. Salvatore’s The Legacy, it is stated that …there is no word in the drow language for love. The closest word (...) is ssinssrigg, but that is a term better equated with physical lust or selfish greed.

Ssinssrigg is another term that appears in one of Minthara’s lines, when the player character romances her, but does not have her high approval. She says then: What we share is no more than ssinssrigg, a passion that burns fierce, but has no foundation.

But... since according to drow lore, there is no word for “true” love in Drowic – and the closest term is ssinssrigg - where did alurlssrin come from?

🕷️ Drow Words For Love - alurlssrin was first mentioned by Ed Greenwood in his post (TheEdVerse, Twitter, Jan. 2023) about Eilistraee and drow words for love:

Eilistraee knows all the drow words for love, and the elvish ones, too. The Drow words are: alurlssrin = unselfish, deep love, raggath = act of love (lovemaking), lurraggath = act of love (sacrificial or noble deed), ssinssrigg = passion, lust, greed, longing, love.

(Among elvish words for love, apparently also known to Eilistraee, there is nor = love, essence of passion. It also appears in one of Minthara's lines, when she calls her lover ust-nor - thank you to @vspin for messaging me about this!)

It seems, then, that alurlssrin is a drow word that is known to Eilistraee and most likely to her followers...

...but Lolth-sworn drow – or at least Menzoberranyr drow – do not know / use it. 🤔 So how is it possible that Minthara, a (former) paladin of Lolth from Menzoberranzan, is familiar with it?

🕷️ Alurlssrin In Minthara's Vocabulary

I have a feeling that alurlssrin appears in Minthara’s lines simply because a drow word for deep, true love was needed for the dialogue. Still, I tried to come up with some more lore-adequate explanations:

🕷️ Some Very Old Word – perhaps in Menzoberranzan, alurlssrin is a half-forgotten archaism that is no longer regularly used, but an educated (or bookwormish) drow can still stumble across it in centuries-old books and figure out its meaning.

🕷️ Language Of Heretics – as a paladin of Lolth, it is possible that Minthara came to contact with Eilistraeans – or with their culture – at some point. She might be even trained to recognize this particular kind of “heresy”, learning symbols and words popularly used among the followers of Eilistraee... alurlssrin included.

🕷️ Not So Unknown Anymore – language tends to change over time, and between the quote from The Legacy and the events of Baldur’s Gate 3, there is a gap of over 130 years. Maybe during this time, alurlssrin term became less unknown in Menzoberranzan? Although considering its connection to Eilistraee and her cult, this may be the least likely explanation.

Regardless of everything, the fact that Minthara calls the bond between her and Tav alurlssrin is certainly meaningful. Typically, many drow like her might not be exactly (or at all) familiar with a sheer concept of deep, unselfish, lasting love...

For more of my drow lore ramblings, feel free to check my pinned post 🕷️

[sproutingliliums]

What are some Zutara fanfics you like?

thank you for asking anon! rubbing my hands together and laughing diabolically rn. most of these fics are completed, but i have a few incomplete or ongoing ones listed at the bottom.

The Color of the Stars by bluenebulae this is my zutara bible... i have read this 3 times, and i think it's still my favorite zutara fic. it diverges from canon during the day of black sun. katara and zuko are both captured and thrown into prison and after breaking out together, they become reluctant allies and travel the world in search of the gaang while also trying to warn the other nations about ozai's plans.

they call you refugee by akaiiko

an arranged marriage alternate universe where when zuko is banished, he leaves the fire nation with—actually, the summary does a pretty good job of explaining it: "Zuko goes into exile with a scar, a mission, and a wife." i think i cried the first time i read this.

refraction by caroes3725

this one's my post-war zutara bible. it is maybe the post-war swt ambassador/politician katara slow burn of all time. it is 200k+ words and it's all worth it, i promise! i prommy!!! read it now!!!! <- this along with The Color of the Stars are maybe my favorite zutara longfics. period.

Mending Wounds by FictionIsSocialInquiry

canon divergent fic where katara sees visions of zuko in the foggy swamp. except in these visions he is older, the fire lord, her husband, and he is gentle and loving, and katara feels sick to her stomach! one of my favs!!!!

lost and found by Smediterranea

hakoda discovers a young zuko, injured, and takes him in. beautiful alternate universe fic where zuko grows up in the southern water tribe with sokka and katara.

The Things We Hide by Lykegenia

katara is held in the fire nation as a political prisoner following the southern water tribe's defeat after an assault launched by fire lord ozai during sozin's comet. the swt, however, will not go down with a fight. love, love, love this one! it has painted lady katara, blue spirit zuko, a sweet romance, political intrigue, and betrayal!!! it's a fun time. also i love hama's inclusion in this :)

The Blackfish and the Dragon by ama

during the day of black sun, iroh takes matters into his own hands and becomes fire lord. shortly after, a marriage is arranged between zuko and katara in order to secure the peace. it's a beautiful arranged marriage au where everyone is so perfectly in character. i really think this fic is one of the best zutara fics out there with a natural and rewarding slow burn romance. and azula is there and she's perfect.

Smoke & Mirrors by sansonnets

blutara bible!!!!!!! that's all i got... blutara go CRAZYYY

so i can die where i met you by irridescence

canon compliant. zuko and katara, eighty years later. the fic is centered around major character death(s), so don't read if you can't handle it but i was sobbing like a fucking baby by the end of it. such a beautiful gorgeous fic that will haunt me forever.

if you don't mind incomplete or ongoing fics:

But Who's Counting? by halfhoursonearth

katara thinks zuko's going to need at least 100 healing sessions after the agni kai. lovely prose and characterization and it's so tender and sweet. just read it!!!

so let us melt, and make no noise by LittleLostStar

zuko is sent on a mission to bring back the heart of the last waterbender so he can restore his honor and return home. but when he nearly dies while in the south pole, a healer named katara saves him and nurses him back to health. (the author describes this as a kinda-sorta frozen AU, and i think it's a pretty good description haha). it's an incredible AU with so much mystery and intrigue and tension!

forgetting is a kind of mercy by nerdylizj

"Five years after Katara and Zuko go missing in Ba Sing Se, Kya and Lee are found living peacefully in the Earth Kingdom countryside." finally, i gotta plug liz's silly n goofy dai li brainwashing fic. it's so good. so painfully angsty. it's about the pain of remembering and about making hard choices and identity and parenthood!!!

[arceespinkgun]

I think I've reached my last nerve with how TF fans treat Jazz on here and on AO3, and I feel the need to rant about it. Obligatory "not all Jazz fans" and "not all JazzProwl fans" disclaimer here... if this doesn't sound like it's describing the content you make or enjoy, then it's not. Honestly, I don't think this angry rant is going to convince anybody of anything, but I'm posting it because I want to make it clear that people see this and are aware it's racist.

Never let it be said that racism isn't thriving in the TF fandom on Tumblr and AO3, because so much Jazz fan content is the most blatantly racist shit. And it's nowhere near as bad on other sites that people here usually claim are more racist—I've never seen what I'm about to describe on r/transformers, for example. TF fans on here often claim to love Jazz so much and say he's one of the best, most unhateable TF characters along with Soundwave, but do they ACTUALLY love Jazz?

Tumblr and AO3 users when they see this great, heavily Black-coded hero: We love Jazz! Ooh, what if he was a slave? What if he was hyper-violent? What if he was a disruptive chaos gremlin? What if he was hypersexual? What if he was lazy and never did his work? What if he was a drug addict? What if he was a prostitute? What if he had an evil alter? What if he used to be/was secretly a Decepticon? What if he was a notorious criminal? What if he was literally some kind of bestial monster?

I've actually seen people on Tumblr asking if Jazz being a Decepticon or having an evil alter was ever canon. Well, let this be a PSA: none of this shit is fucking real! I've seen almost all the media Jazz is in, and none of this reflects how he's been portrayed, ever! Apparently people posting links and screenshots and GIFs showing what Jazz has actually been like in canon hasn't caused people to self-reflect, because this shit is still somehow super popular and even filtering doesn't screen even close to all of it! And I've seen in real-time people who are newer to the fandom getting tricked by all this racist fanon and then being drawn into it, thinking it reflects something when it doesn't! That's one of the things that bothers me most!

And then there's the other half of this, which is the immense popularity of JazzProwl. Putting aside how ridiculous it is that a ship between characters who haven't had a positive interaction in fifteen years is somehow the most popular ship in this fandom, half of all the Jazz content I see on sites like Tumblr also stars Prowl, as if Jazz isn't an arguably more prominent character with tons of unexplored stuff of his own going on. But that's the least of it. How the hell do I constantly see people uncritically post shit with this ship like Prowl trying to arrest or pull over a chaotic criminal Jazz? Or shooting at him? Or white savior, copaganda, anti-sex work garbage like Prowl as a cop rescuing prostitute/stripper Jazz from exploitative working conditions (I'm not making this shit up)? (Also, @ people who make content in which Prowl is Jazz's slave—I see you too, and you're not woke. You are still linking Black people to slavery as your first thought and then assuming it's subversive to flip the dynamic you'd expect to see. You're getting off on slavery and still including a Black-coded hero in your shit.)

Even the majority of the much milder content I see is still ridiculously OOC and plays into racist tropes in its own ways. Like how 90% of JazzProwl content shows a lazy, distractible Jazz endlessly trying to get Prowl to relax by disrupting his work or playing pranks or some shit. What media does that come from? Oh yeah, it comes from nowhere, because it's just old fanon that's been endlessly regurgitated by people who aren't realizing how making this up plays into offensive stereotypes about Black men and boys. Hey, if you people love this boring dynamic so much, maybe look at the canon relationships that are similar to it instead of forcing characters who don't fit it whatsoever into these roles without thinking about the implications!

And guess what? I've repeatedly seen literal proof that basically everyone who thinks they like this ship hasn't ever seen the characters interact in canon, too—every so often somebody on here will ask why JazzProwl is popular and ask for fans to share the canon media that made them ship it... and inevitably nobody can share anything, which is hilarious every time. Sometimes people will admit it's all fanon. In fact, the other day I saw a link to a fic from the very early 2000s that claims to be the super-influential, first JazzProwl fic ever making the rounds on Tumblr, and guess what? I looked at it and it was already super fucking racist, with Jazz being described as chaotic and not a hard worker and it had Prowl angrily shooting at him!!!

Jazz is one of my favorite characters and I'm so sick of this shit! Normally I love transformative works and new interpretations of characters, but in this case the fanon is so horrid and has always been horrid, so either try to examine Jazz in canon and portray him based on it, or be a fan of a different character! And fucking REMEMBER that this is a Black-coded hero, damn it! I saw a fic the other day that made me literally choke on my drink because it had Blaster (also a Black-coded hero) describing Jazz as a "spook!" THAT DOES NOT JUST MEAN SPY, THAT'S A RACIST, ANTI-BLACK SLUR!!! And this isn't even getting into how people in fic have Jazz talk! Jazz in all the media I've seen speaks very clearly and rarely has any kind of accent, but I constantly see white people attempting to write his dialogue phonetically in a way that feels straight out of Uncle Tom's Cabin. What the fuck is this?!

Also, petty, but the fans who make and consume this kind of content in my opinion don't then get to relentlessly criticize something like Earthspark, which has a cast and crew of people of color, by claiming it undermined its themes and is racist!

[aaronsrpgs]

In Praise of Random Encounters

I'm in my "responding to frequently asked Reddit r/rpg questions" phase, so please allow me to defend the random encounter. This post is in response to everyone who goes, "Why do people use random encounters? They interrupt the flow of the story, and it doesn't make any sense to have something randomly show up and fight."

Did you know there was a Pokemon named after me?

In this post, I will argue against these strawmen, make a case for random encounters in certain games, and describe my favorite random encounter situations from my own games.

This disputation against random encounters can be broken up into three parts:

they interrupt what is already going on ("the story")

they are illogical

they're automatically a fight

I'm going to address these last to first.

Random encounters shouldn't jump right into fights. If used as intended, they come with an encounter distance, meaning sometimes you just see signs of the encounter, or you spot them from far away. And they should also come with what used to be called a reaction roll, which dictates how the encounter feels about the PCs. These were rolled on 2d6, which meant there was a bell curve that favored results in the 6-8 range, which were usually something like "wary" or "neutral."

Second, the logic of random encounters. If you're using them right, random encounters should make sense. They should only have a chance of happening in places where the encounters could be, and encounter tables ought to be chosen based on location. So you won't get a dire trout in a desert or whatever.

This last bit is the hardest one. If it feels like a random encounter would disrupt "your story," you're probably running a game whose underlying philosophies are opposed to random encounters, yes. It's probably also opposed to many other frameworks that were present in traditional/old-school rule sets. If your game has a pre-planned story or plot, if that plot requires a certain pace or order, and if the injection of outside elements would disrupt that plot, you probably shouldn't use random encounters.

(You also shouldn't use D&D or its cousins. You might also not want to have other players, since they can disrupt those plots. But that's just me being petty.)

A page of random encounter rules from Advanced Dungeons & Dragons. This is a shitty example. I promise it's easier than this.

So when SHOULD you use random encounters? Use them if the game you're running is attempting to simulate a world that has its own logic and background that is not dependent on the player characters. Random encounters help show that the world is in motion at all times and that people and creatures move about of their own volition. They don't show up when it's meaningful to the plot or the other characters; they wander. They're random.

Another key component of this style of gaming is that they usually consider story as something that emerges from or comes after play. "Remember how we tried to cross the raging river full of electric eels, and you dropped your sword, and I almost died, but we made it across? That was awesome." These things didn't happen because they were important plot points predicted by the DM; they are the results of rolls at the table, rolls that are honored in their immediacy and only made sense of after the fact. Does this mean that you risk having a disjointed mess from which no pleasing story can emerge? Yes! But you also risk having a story emerge that no one could have planned, that is equally surprising and pleasing to everyone at the table.

This emergent storytelling is probably the greatest joy of the random encounter. Don't approach the encounter with, "It doesn't make sense that a goblin would be here." Instead, adopt the attitude of, "Let's figure out why this gobllin would be here." (And while you're at it, use that same attitude toward books you read and movies you see.)

A related aside: in some play cultures, the DM is considered to be someone who plans everything out and slowly reveals bits of story as rewards to the other players. As a DM, this can feel really stagnant, and it can be a lot to keep track of, and there is far less joy of surprise. Using dice at the table to introduce new elements can bring some of that fun back to the DM.

Everything I've said so far is a synthesis of dozens of rulebooks and blog posts I've read across a decade of running games, so please allow me to introduce a final element: my own experience with the joy of random tables.

In 2014, when 5E was coming out to great demand on the backs of Stranger Things, Critical Roll, and The Adventure Zone, I started running a campaign for friends and coworkers. There was no developed play culture around 5E at the time, no cottage industry of third-party developers. So in running it, I was drawing on what I had been reading for years: old-school roleplaying and story games.

So I prepped my starting town (doing way more work that I would today), including random encounter tables for the area. And when the players were out searching for some ruins and getting lost west of town, I rolled a random encounter. It was some gnomes. All the gnomes here had escaped from a gnome hell for greed, so they weren't exactly kind. And their reaction roll was just south of neutral, so they were a little surly.

A bad screenshot of my "west of the town of Wall" encounter tables.

They led the players to the ruins and waited, trying to trap them inside after they'd been run down by the undead inside. But the players overcame the trap and told the gnomes off. (They didn't want to get in another fight after going through the ruins; more emergent storytelling.) So the gnomes ran off, but they would remember this.

Flash forward to a different session. In the main mega-dungeon under the town, the players were exploring a new area. Another random encounter: the devil of gnome hell! It was a giant mole with masses of earthworms for limbs, and it was searching for its escaped prisoners. It threatened to kill the PCs unless they gave it a magical item. So Pepper the elf gave up his winged sword, which he'd found in the aforementioned ruins. He loved that sword.

And here's where it all comes together. The gnomes were trying to settle the land west of town, but the humans had a fort there. The players were going to that fort to get some information about the faerie realms. How could I show this situation in a way that would, as succinctly as possible, illustrate the tension while giving the players a choice on who to join? Well, the gnomes would be attacking the fort. This normally wouldn't be much of a battle…but the vengeful gnome from the ruins had made a deal with the gnome devil for power. And now he was wielding Pepper's sword, using it to fly over the fort walls and attack.

Pepper was pissed! He wanted his sword back! The other players were more interested in figuring out a way to stop the ongoing conflict between gnomes and humans. And the gnomes were split between wanting to peacefully settle their new land and get revenge on the players for driving them off from the ruins. Who would prevail?

I hadn't planned a story, but I had created a situation a story was likely to emerge based on the players' actions and the results of the dice.

Conclusion

This isn't me saying this is the only way to play. It's not the only way I play. In a short one-shot or a tightly paced, emotional game, I would never use random encounters. But they can be fun! And they (and their associated suite of rules) can address some of the issues that lead to DM burnout and genre predictability.

If you find me in the wilderness, I will fight you.

[literatureloverx]

Hiii!! good day to you☺️☺️!!! Just wanna ask something if you don't mind me🤗. In the aftercare scenario with fyodor, in the last part of it they talked about having children. Since reading that it's the only thing on my mind rn😔. I really wanna know what you think about fyodor, his darling and their children. Like would he be a good dad, an okay one or a bad one? How maby children do you think he'll have? Etc etc. Even though it's kinda impossible for him(rn) to have children since it'll probably become a problem for his plan, but can't a girl dream?🥺 Anyway tyty in advance if you answer this

(I love you so muchhhhh ahhh i wanna bite you/affectionately/😚😚. I love love the way you potray fyodor— my knees become weak every time I read one of your post! You're literally serving us a whole 5 star mchelin meal and I'm licking the plate- all utensils clean frfr😋😋. I hope you continue this and I'll be right here with the others supporting you🫶🏼🫶🏼)

Oh my gosh, I actually shed some tears here…🥺❤️

I can’t even begin to tell you how much your support means to me. Every time I read your sweet words, I get so emotional. I'm beyond grateful for your love and encouragement—it really keeps me going. ❤️

Thank you from the bottom of my heart!❤️❤️❤️

In actuality, I got two other requests about Dad!Fyodor. I wrote some headcanons about this and included a scene too, but since I don’t want to be unfair, I will post the scenario I wrote here and the headcanons in the other request ❤️

I hope you enjoy it, my dear! ❤️

Mdni, yandere behaviour, unhealthy behaviour, dad!fyodor, ideal type fem!reader, fluff, etc.

———————————

F Y O D O R D O S T O E V S K Y

Belonging

Never in his life had Fyodor calculated that he would end up in this moment. It was a delight indeed, to feel the pleasure of utter belonging. You, belonging to him. Him, belonging to you. Him, belonging to his own small family.

A small smile forms on his lips, his eyes softening as his pale, cold hand gently places itself upon your belly.

It feels so strange, in an almost tooth-rottingly sweet way. It was something he never wished for, never considered before. But since you came crashing into his life with your graceful, soft, sweet nature, hopping into his safe space, jumping over his seemingly endless high walls, everything has been changing for him.

To find himself in such a vulnerable state was frustrating. He did not handle this new information well at the beginning, at all.

After endless loneliness, he felt uncomfortable with the togetherness with someone else. Finding you and falling for you, his soulmate, his lover, was indeed a shock for his hardened heart.

But now, this? A child? His child, that you’re bearing inside your very body?

He is not someone who loses his cool easily. You softened him. Your still unborn baby, whom he can't imagine parenting as any other human being does, softened him. He has found himself dwelling on thoughts obsessively focused on you and your child. About your future.

If this had not happened simply by itself, he wouldn’t have thought of having a child. But now that you’re full with his child, smiling at him with utmost love and affection, he can't help but love your baby.

Love… such a distant word for him for decades, for hundreds of years. Humbling, but so utterly real.

“Can you feel it, my love?”

“Yes, love.”

His gaze focuses on you, the dark glimmer shining through his soft expression, a sight far too familiar to you.

“I’m amazed how we managed to produce such an energetic offspring, given our harmonious and peaceful personalities.”

His humorous comment makes you huff out a giggle, amused at his remark.

“I’m not sure if I’d describe you as such, my love…”

His eyes soften further.

“I believe that motherhood has already made you brattier, my dear. We might need to change that attitude in the near future.”

Another chuckle, this time even more heartfelt than before.

He softly kisses your forehead, his fingers gently caressing your belly.

“The medicine is working. You’re feeling less dizziness, correct?”

Fyodor being your husband has more than enough beautiful aspects to it. One of them is, indeed, his ability to see, hear, and understand everything the moment it occurs. Like now. He always knows how you’re feeling, and it is refreshing in a sweet way.

“Yes, my love. I’m doing very well. Also, I'm not lonely at all, thanks to you.”

He smiles fondly, a lazy smirk stretching out his lips. Of course you weren’t. He is often away, but he always manages to send you gifts and activities to pass the time with. You’re always surrounded by people who dote on you and do everything in their power to make you feel comfortable in your huge mansion while you wait day and night for your husband to arrive and show you his affection.

It always pays off. The waiting, the longing, the slight agony that sometimes pierces your heart and makes you miss him even more than ever.

But he always returns. Always, without a single exception.

In those times whenever you were waiting eagerly for your husband to return, you had plenty of time to think about every possible possibility. How your lives would change when your little one arrives, what kind of mother you’d be to your child, what kind of father Fyodor would be… you never once doubted him.

You trust him with all your heart and secretly, this trust gives Fyodor immense strength, even if he never verbally acknowledged it. He knows that you trust him, and your trust and love work wonders on him.

From a logical perspective, he is not someone who needs love or acknowledgment, praise or appreciation. But with you by his side, loving, appreciating, trusting, understanding, and caring for him unconditionally, he acknowledges that everything is so much more beautiful as you bestow pure joy into his previously cold and inhumane life.

Your little family already makes him feel more human. You make him feel human. Not that he thought that he ever cared about being inhuman, but it turns out that he is, indeed, not much different than other human beings.

Feeling like a human has an incredible vulnerability to it. But with you, he can’t help but bow down to his own humanity, to his own vulnerability.

“I love you...”

His eyes glimmer with a faint shadow, and you can see inside his eyes how his sentence continues.

‘…I love both of you.’

To read my other works and the backstory to this scenario => MASTERLIST

[just-some-random-blogger]

hello gorgeous! if you don't mind modern au, i have an idea. if you don't feel like writing anything it'd be great to hear your thoughts abt it. daemon x wife!reader (who's somehow connected with magic but not targaryen) who are devoted to each other like madly in love. before daemon has to go to war they're saying goodbyes kissing, crying and not being able to let the other go. feeling like something's off he says smth like "i'll find you in another life. i'll find you in any time we'll be existing. i will love you any time i am alive" (in high valyrian or calling her some name in it) kissing her knuckles and going away. unfortunately, he was right. reader died some way while he was away and he remains faithful to her for the rest of his life (oc but whatever) and in the modern world he does find her. maybe targaryens are some sort of royal family, maybe they keep a family business or an ordinary family with lots of relatives. but he fins the reader and they somehow just feel. sorry if it's too much. i'd really like to read something about it but it absolutely ok if you don't feel like it. thank u in advance! take care!

Waiting For A Lifetime

Part 1 2 3 ?

Daemon Targaryen x Reader + Aegon Targaryen x Reader cos it just sorta happened

Summary: Overcome by grief, Daemon turned to black magic to revive you. Moved by pity, the witch who casted the spell promised you would live until you met your love again in his next life.

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Modern AU, fem!reader, mentions/depictions of death/still birth/war, my pretty boy aegon whom i would die for, angst, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: i saw this last night when i woke up in the middle of my sleep and couldn't stop thinking about it. I changed a lot about your req nonnie. I do hope you still like it though. I absolutely could not help myself with this one and I got so carried away T_T also a lot of facts about the Targaryens have distorted so just just just roll with it ok ok ok thank you And yes i know this is a gif from the crown but i love it so much the hat falling off the kiss ITS EVERYTHING I WANT TO BE HERRRRRRRRRRRRR also i do acknowledge the fact that this anon came to me with this idea after i reblogged this amazing moodboard sooooo yeah i think this post sparked this fic idea lol ALSO ALSO ALSO 2022 MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!! LOVE YA ALL imagine seeing this post in like 2032 or smth shit thats like 35 years from now Tagging: @pinksirensong @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony pssst i made p2 "Never Before"

Daemon's face was streaked with tears and sorrow. His eyes were bloodshot and his voice was as sure as it was grave as he repeated the word he uttered to the shaman, "anything."

She looked at him, able to taste the desperation in the air, "even if it costs your life, prince?"

Daemon looks at his love before him, his love that was carrying his child. He places his bloody palm on the gaping wound on her stomach.

"Your child will not live even if she does."

Daemon screws his eyes shut tightly. He begins to quiver in anger, in grief, in pure sorrow. He mutters, "anything," he slowly opens his eyes to gaze upon her lifeless face, "better it me than her. There is no world worth living without her."

The woman narrows her eyes at the prince. She knew he was the Targaryen, once heir, known to be rugged and harsh. The Rouge Prince. Yet, there was no trace of malice within his being, only what she would describe as true devotion, true love.

"So, may it be done by the gods old and new," she says, drawing the prince's attention to her, "I will plead for her soul that she may live."

Daemon watches the witch, as she stands to her feet from the ground they were both sprawled on, in front of the body of the dead woman.

"I will plead that she may live long enough to meet you again in another life, so that you may have the love you have now once more."

"Another life?"

"Yes," she says, "the gods recreate humans they are pleased with to grace the earth again. I am certain they will let you be reborn to be with her again. I will make it certain."

Daemon grabs the cold hand that was beginning to stiffen.

"Although, I am unsure if they will allow you to remember her."

"I will remember her," Daemon retorts, kissing the hand of his love, "I will remember her no matter form I take... I will, I must."

"So it remains to be seen," she says before speaking out her incantation.

And it would not be seen until nearly 2000 years later.

The times have changed drastically. Women wore pants and voted. Men where made to take more responsibility for their actions, though still got away with things.

And yet...

... my love for him never faded.

Every prince that was born and named Daemon, I hoped would finally be him. It went about like this century after century, war after war, plague after plague, rise after fall. I had feared the Targaryens would die out, but they proved to be as strong as the very foundations of the earth.

And it took the televised of the marriage of Viserys XXIX to Duchess Aemma of Eyrie for me to see the face of my love: Daemon, the Wild Child, the Knight of Knickers, as penned by the press. Ultimately, the prince of my heart.

I burst into tears when I saw his cheeky face as he nudged his brother at the isle. I pressed my hands on the screen, thinking to myself, the wait was finally over, he was finally here.

All that was left was for me to meet the Prince of Valyria.

Yes. That would be no problem at all.

Except it was, because Daemon was just as mad as he was in this life as he was in the last.

After all, he did not get those nicknames from the press for nothing.

I used up so many of my resources to even just get a glimpse of him. It was hard to catch him in one place. I mostly caught him with a scandalous headline in the cover of magazines and newspapers.

Tonight, it was a newspaper.

"You know," the bartender taps his finger on my newspaper that was sprawled out on his bar, "he's a frequent here."

I turn to the blonde, in his white dress shirt, black waist apron, and black slacks. I raise a brow as he purses his lips as though the information was ground breaking. He wipes on a glass with his blue towel.

"Gee, Aegon," I lean on the surface before me, "I would have never guessed that from the picture on the wall."

I nod at the said picture. It's one of Daemon and the current owner of the bar, Tywin Lannister, who also happened to own Lannister Land Corp, shaking hands. Oh, Lannisters.

"Hey," Aegon shrugs, pulling his lips down in a nuff-said manner, "it had to be said, since you're literally the only patron here that has not interrogated me with questions about the Knight of Knickers."

I snort, "then allow me to change that," I rest my head on my hand, "is he truly so dashing that his looks practically steal the knickers of the ladies around him?"

Aegon finishes buffing his glass and puts it down, looking up in thought, "mmm, I think it's mostly cause he's a prince that he's got the effect he's got. I've got no idea what possessed the first girl to throw her panties at him."

I giggle, "are you saying the prince is ugly?"

"Bit harsh, innit," Aegon pulls back, getting another glass, rubbing it down with his towel, "your words, not mine."

I roll my eyes, shaking my head, as I laugh at the light haired boy's muses, "you know, if we had been living at the height of the Targaryen rule, Daemon would have had your head for that, pretty boy."

"Gods, to be beheaded," he sighed, "a dream, rather than working here, taking about some monarch who lives off the money of the people."

I snort once more. Aegon's face softens as he breaks into a laugh himself.

"No, but honestly," he says putting down the glass and the towel, "you, my dear, are my saving grace. The highlight of my begrudgingly stretched out day," he stretches out a hand to me.

I chuckle at him as I take his hand. He presses a kiss on the back of it, making me grin at him in amusement.

"You're the only sane person here," he releases my hand, "everyone else is so desperate to brush shoulders with the prince, or simply even catch a of whiff of his flatulence."

I break out into a fit of chuckles, slamming firmly at the wood between us.

"No, I'm serious! I heard the fittest gal, a total bombshell, boasting with pride about how she managed a sniff of the bloke's fart."

I'm wheezing with laughter, unable to believe what I'm hearing.

Aegon releases a deep and dramatic sigh, "what has the world come to?"

I wipe a tear as Aegon watches me empty myself of laughter. His face crinkles in a pleased expression, Adam's apple bobbing as he chuckles airily.

I sigh, catching my breath, "well, if I ever become that desperate, I ask that you pray for my soul."

Aegon presses his palms together, "praying for that girl as we speak."

I chuckle, folding the newspaper before me, "I must say, I am actually desperate to meet the wild child myself."

Aegon drops his hands along with his humored expression.

I cannot help but laugh at him as I continue to fold the paper, "though, I would say I am the desperate kind that is so desperate..." I eye him as I press the grey material together, "that I, somehow, dread to meet him at all."

Aegon snorts, screwing his eyes shut as he wipes his face, "the Stranger. Don't say things like that! I nearly had a heart attack believing you."

"No, but it's true, Aegon!" I say with a faux wounded pout, "prince Daemon is my great love, we have been destined to meet for millennia!"

Aegon leans on the table, humming as he nodds his head, "yes, and I suppose I am Aegon the Conqueror."

I lean towards him and grab his jaw, "no, you look more like Aegon II. The spitting image, I dare say."

He scoffs, swatting me off, "I'm hotter than him."

I pull away, "yes. That I can agree with, pretty boy. Personal hygiene does wonders."

Aegon snorts and plays off the blush on his cheeks by wiping his nose with his thumb, "you speak as though you met him."

I straighten up, "that's because I have. He was once my nephew."

He narrows his eyes and crosses his arms. His face contorts at the thought.

I raise my brows at him, "have I not told you I am not only a Targaryen historian, an expert at that, but I am also a patron of the Museum of Ice and Fire? I'm married into their family."

"Okay," he raises a finger, "ew."

I snort.

Aegon lifts his jaw and hums, "well, now that you mentioned it, I always knew you were one of those insanely rich blokes who frequent here. I was thinking you were a mafia boss or something though."

I scoff in amusement, raising my brows at him.

He pushes his white sleeves up then raises his hand in defense, "you have a very intense aura about you."

"That's because you trigger my fight mode," I retort.

He huffs, "do I? I'm scared to know what you'll do to me when I've seen what you do to men who hit on you."

"Aww, don't worry," I coo, "I wouldn't hurt my pretty, baby boy."

Aegon doesn't get to reply when a customer calls his attention. With this, he pulls away and leaves me to my own devices.

We don't get to continue our conversation at all, for it was clear that the rush hour had begun.

I eventually pulled back and decided to entertain myself while my favorite bartender was busy. I swiveled on my stool, looking out to the room, spotting the jukebox collecting dust in the corner. I smile at the sight of it, thinking about how it was still here after all these years, in spite of being older than Aegon.

I stand from my seat and walk over to it.

Aegon, finding one patron missing, frantically looks around then calms, raising a brow.

I place my hands on the jukebox, bending over to check if it was plugged in.

Aegon snorts as he hands a man a beer, eyes not at all fixed on him, "that doesn't work, love."

"Mmm, ye of little faith."

Aegon is annoyed by the man that sits on the vacated stool, blocking his vision. In retaliation, he blocks out the sound of his voice. Aegon calls out, "if you can make that hunkajunk work, I'll clear your tab for you."

I chuckle as I pull the machine forward, checking its wiring, "I wouldn't want to make a kid working on minimum wage to pay for me at all."

"I only said I would clear your tab, doll face," is all he replies before he goes back to tending to drinks again.

I break into chuckles as I fiddle with the wires on the back. I admit, it took me quite a while to go through everything, which was why Aegon warned that he would not call an ambulance for me if I got electrocuted.

The sight of the jukebox coming to life was enough to shut him up.

I get to my feet with a huff, brushing my hands off with each other. I turn to Aegon, who was already looking at me in astonishment, along with a few other people in the room.

I smirk, "my tab then?"

"Good as gone," Aegon shakes his head in disbelief, cutting his hand across his neck.

I release a satisfied sigh as I punch at the hardened buttons and play whatever it was that was available to be played.

When the music starts, I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off with the music. The sound brings back some memories I had in the 1940's. If I recall correctly, it was around this time Daemon's father, King Baelon, was crowned.

I slowly moved to the rhythm of the song, swaying my hips, waving my extended arms out as I made my way to the center of the room.

Aegon stilled in his spot upon seeing this. His breath caught in his throat and he was only brought back to reality when someone demanded a gin. He looked around the room as he poured that idjit his drink and clenched his jaw tightly when he saw the onlooking crowd.

He snorts loudly, grabbing his towel, throwing it over his shoulder roughly, clearing his throat with more noise than necessary.

I smile to myself when I hear Aegon's familiar coughing. He had a tendency to do this whenever men around me started to be a bother. And I loved him dearly for it. He was a sweet boy.

With my eyes still closed, I continue dancing to the soothing song. My smile grows bigger when a section comes that tickles my musical senses. I chuckle as I twirl in my spot.

When I felt a hand come to my waist, I didn't have to open my eyes to know it was Aegon. He wouldn't have let anyone come near me at all without barking up a storm.

I hummed at the scent of him, familiar yet foreign to me at once. He must have changed his cologne. I prefer this one better. He pulls me close when I reach out to him, grabbing one of his hands and placing a palm on his shoulder. His dress shirt is softer than what I imagined it to be.

I am surprised when he leads us into a ballroom dance. In fact, I am so shocked, I open my eyes and see a blur of his white shirt and blonde hair as he spins me around.

I break into a fit of chuckles, screwing my eyes shut in pure bliss when he dips me, "I had no idea you were a dancer, pretty boy."

"Yes, well, journalists don't find it interesting enough to write about."

My eyes burst open at the sound of the deep voice.

My heart is pounding at the sight of the smirking man with silver hair. I nearly faint at the violet irises so close to mine.

"I do say," his hot breath fans on my face, "if we were spotted by one now, they'd have a field day."

I jolt upright and shove the man away. He doesn't seem to be offended by my harsh actions, and, in fact, chuckles as he reels back from my action, "not what I had expected and not the reaction I usually get, but there's a first for everything."

My breath hitches when he smiles at me. I turn from him, to Aegon, who was staring coldly from his place behind the bar. It seems the rest of the people here were doing the same as well, gobsmacked by the presence of the man in the middle of the room

I roll my shoulders back, turning to my dance partner, "Prince Daemon," I mutter, bowing my head slowly, "pardon my rudeness."

He chuckles, waving me off as he stuffs a hand in his pocket, "oh, no need to be so formal, my dear. I can understand the shock," he tilts his head at me, lips still curved, "you surely weren't expecting to be dancing with the prince and thought me to be someone else, no?"

I look at him and stare in silence. For the first time in my life, I was at a loss for words.

Everything was suddenly so real, and it was making my mind and my heart race.

Aegon watches this and clears his throat loudly.

It does not help anyone.

Daemon raises his brows at me in expectation, placing his other hand in his pocket as he leans on one leg.

I open my mouth. A second passes before I mutter, "I thought you were my pretty boy."

His lips spread into a toothy grin. Airy chuckles leave him, "I can be your pretty boy."

When he extends his hand out to me, it was like the heavens opened and I could hear the angels sing.

This was the moment I have been waiting for since that day that I came back to life and kissed him goodbye with a promise of finding him in his next one.

My breath was heavily taxed when I lifted my hand.

My soul nearly leaves me when I jolt in shock over the sound of a record scratching and jumping, repeating over and over again.

In that moment, I am hit by an epiphany. I am so overwhelmed with emotions that I could barely breathe. The sight of Daemon before me brought tears to my eyes. This was all I ever wanted, and yet-- and yet-- I was drowning. I could not breathe properly.

"I..." I shudder, making Daemon's face fall, "I have to go," I mutter through a strained breath.

Daemon knits his brows, shifting in his spot with his hand still out, "what?"

Aegon watched with tightly knit brows as I ran out of the room.

The prince drops his hand and spins on his heels, eyes locked on the runaway. His nostrils flare as his face contorts in confusion, "wait! Stop! Where are you going?!"

I heave heavily as I push past people on my way out. I am absolutely winded when I exit the establishment, hands shivering from both the cold and the nerves that were getting to me in this moment.

I walk aimlessly farther out, down to the lawn that was now dark, since it was gods-know-what hour.

"Wait!"

My heart drops.

I spin around when someone grabs my wrist. My heart is still quick in my chest when I see Daemon, heaving. His short, light hair was slightly tousled in its place. He knits his brows at me, tilting his head, "you dare leave your prince, Cinderella?"

My jaw hangs low.

He releases a sigh, shaking his head, "I forbid it."

Seeing him here and now made everything feel more Real with a capital R.

Daemon adjusts his grip on my wrist, pulling his hand back, so that he was now holding my hand.

I look at him, blinking the glassiness of my eyes away, still in shock of his presence. A million questions were running through my head, and I was glad to be able to even have the mind to ask one in this moment, "do you know me, Daemon?"

He tilts his head upon hearing this, brows knitting, lips curving. He releases a chuckle at the lack of formality and how haphazard the question was, but finds himself further drawn because of it, "no," he shakes his head, "but I would love to know you."

Hearing the words come out of his mouth shatters something in me.

He did not know me.

I turn away from him as I try to even my breath. I retreat my hand and step back as a shiver runs down my spine.

And yet here he was, chasing after me.

Daemon steps forward to make up for the space between us, "don't leave. Come back inside with me. I'll give you my coat, then you can boast that the prince of Valyria gave it to you."

I continue stepping back as I shake my head, "you don't understand," I mutter under my breath in High Valyrian.

"Then make me understand," he retorts in the same tongue with a chuckle as he shakes his head and takes a wide stride over to me, grabbing my hand again.

I gasp at the warmth of his touch. When I turn back to him, tears have finally fallen from my eyes.

Daemon's face hardens at the sight of it. His hand reaches out to my face, wiping the wetness away. The sight of his torn expression tears at me, bringing me more tears.

"Why are you crying?" he asks in High Valyrian.

I do not get to reply, as suddenly there is a loud burst from behind us, commanding both our attentions.

It's Aegon. He busted through the door with my things in his hand. Upon catching the sight of the two of us, he freezes, breathing heavily as the looks out.

Daemon's expression hardens; his grip on me tightens. He turns to me, jealousy coating his mouth when he catches I where I am looking, "is that your pretty boy?"

I do not reply to him as Aegon walks over.

Daemon pulls me close to him. I look up at him with teary eyes. Aegon looks between us, jaw tense as he hands me my bag, coat, and newspaper.

"Thank you, bartender," Daemon dismisses, patting Aegon on the shoulder, before turning from him to face me again.

When I catch Aegon's face, I finally have the wits to move.

I pull away from Daemon to put my coat on. I swallow a heavy lump in my throat at feel of the stares of the two men.

Once I have my coat on, I pull a card from my bag, handing it to Daemon. He wastes no time in taking it from me, immediately scrutinizing it.

"I'd..." I start, taking a deep breath, "like to see you again."

Daemon's eyes dart to me, breaking into a smile.

Butterflies explode in my stomach at the sight of him.

Aegon's face tenses.

I release a breath before asking, "when are you fr-"

"Whenever," Daemon blurts. He places the card in the breast pocket of his white shirt, "I'm free whenever."

I nod slowly at his words, "I have work tomorrow, but I do have a long lunch at 12-

"I'll call you a 11:55."

I purse my lips at his words, trying to hold back my chuckle, but failing, "11:55?"

Daemon grins, nodding once, "on the dot."

I chuckle, turning to my feet as I nod at his words, "11:55 then."

"On the dot," he nods, extending a hand out to rub his thumb on my cheek.

I turn to him just as Daemon pulls away and stuffs his hands back in his pockets, "I'll walk you."

I shake my head, turning to Aegon, who was still standing there, watching the whole interaction between us, "you don't have to. I have a car parked nearby."

"Then I'll walk you to your car."

I turn back to Daemon, who then offers his arm out to me. I smile, unable to deny him, or myself, of the offer. I take his arm, and the next moment, he leads us off.

I turn over my shoulder, raising a hand at Aegon while I offer him a smile, "see you, Aegon."

Aegon watches as I turn back.

There is a twisted feeling inside him that grows. He mutters softly. It is too soft for anyone but himself to hear, "see you."

[dublinskeetz]

i’d love for you to write something about elijah hewson!!! 🩷🩷🩷

𝐘𝐎𝐔

hiii ofc!! so since i did a smau x written fic for bobby i decided to do a full smau, hope thats ok with u! also i added some f1 babies in here cs why not JAJA. and by all means lovies, send more reqs!!! ♡

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 - 𝘪𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘫𝘢𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘸𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢'𝘴 𝘣𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 - 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯, 𝘫𝘰𝘴𝘩, 𝘳𝘺𝘢𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘣𝘣𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘶𝘱

𝘧𝘤 - 𝘵𝘣𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘪 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘴

𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 - 𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘫𝘢𝘩 𝘩𝘦𝘸𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘹 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

yourusername

liked by taylorswift, pierregasly and others

yourusername mirrors, cute boy gave me a cig, shhhh, me and tay, on his knees, i can never tie my shoes lol, grwm, mirror seflie?

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ynfan21 HELLO WHAT

ynfan45 MOTHER SOFTLAUNCHING ???

ynfan12 the end times have come

taylorswift 😉😉

ynfan100 WHAT DO U KNOW MA'AM

inhalerfan123 why does that look like eli omg

inhalerfan455 AND ITS HIS HANDWRITING ONT HE CIG?? inhalerfan2123 if its eli i will bleach my hair liked by joshjenkinson_, bobbyskeetz, ryanmcmahon_15 and 389 others inhalerfan2134 WHAT IS THIS A SIGN

landonorris when r u bringing mystery man to the paddock??

yourusername nevr cs u guys scare him danielricciardo lando's small body scares even me tbh rando12 how does she know dany and lando?? ynfan111 dany is like her uncle and she met lando through him

billieeilish the prettiest girl

bobbyskeetz dunno who gave u that cig but trashy handwriting

inhalerfan1123 HELLO BOBBY?? yourusername leave him alone hes just a girl

ynfan123 MOTHER IS IN THE STUDIO I REPEAT SHES IN THE FAWKING STUDIO

liked by yourusername

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yourusername has posted a photo to their sotry!

caption: bought lvr a shirt🧘‍♀️

replies:

elijahhewson LOVE YOU POSTED THIS ON UR MAIN

bobbyskeetz ur an idiot my god

ynfan22 WHAT I FUCKING KNEW IT

yourusername has deleted this story!

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yourusername

liked by elijahhewson and others

yourusername studio sesh for new music coming soon for u

view all 12382 comments

ynfan122 MOTHER WE SAW THAT

ynfan333 not her dropping a studio pic to throw us off....

inhalerfan111 UR SO SLAY FOR THAT SHIRT

joshjenkinson_ hm i wonder what the song is about

yourusername sorry who are you? ynfan2222 STOP IT WE KNOW UR LYING

ryanmcmahon_15 you are an idiot

phoebebridgers in love with u

yourusername my sweet baby jesus

oscarpiastri glad i wasn't the one who spoiled u two

this comment was deleted

ynfan1112 OSCAR I SAW THAAF

elijahhewson

liked by inhalerdublin and others

elijahhewson cause my girl ruined her own softlaunch. love you my sweet girl and thank you for the past three years full of love. words will never be able to describe how grateful i am for you and your shitty jokes

view all 22391 comments

yourusername AWW ELI I LOVE YOU

yourusername stop im so sad we were supposed to be mysterious lvrs

elijahhewson its ok love theres always next time (you are stuck with me forever)

bobbyskeetz this is what i have had to endure for the last three fucing years.

inhalerfan22 i just shed a few tears

yourusername that twt thread was onto us

evehewson my favorite girl

yourusername my favorite hewson elijahhewson OIIIIII

ryanmcmahon_15 so glad she was the one who slipped up we almost posted it on the inhaler acc

ynfan333 she is so godly i cannot live

elijahhewson i know ynfan342 HELPP HES ONE OF USSSSS liked by yourusername

joshjenkinson_ ok now drop the song about eli yourusername

yourusername im going to MURDER YOU elijahhewson you wrote a song about me? 🥹🥹 yourusername it was supposed to be a SURPRISEAZFJE ynfan211 HELPP JOSH LEAKINGGG

yourusername

liked by elijahhewson and others

yourusername in honor of me ruining my own soft launch, im happy to give u "sweet nothing" ft the taylor swift (thank u tay for agreeing) for my babygirl (thx josh for spoiling the surprise.) this song represents the small things this man has done for me that makes me happy in the world. eli ur kind words, pretty smile, and calmness that comes with being with you makes everything right in the world. thank u for loving me.

view all 42920 comments

elijahhewson i think i just shed a tear

yourusername BABYYY ryanmcmahon_15 hes not lying i just heard a sob

elijahhewson i love you so much

bobbyskeetz he is never gonna stfu about this.

ynfan234 FT TAYLOR SWIFT WHATTTT

inhalerfan288 "I FIND MYSELF RUNNING TO YOUR SWEET NOTHINGS" LET ME FUCKING DIE IN A HOLE.

taylorswift was such an honor to be apart of your love

yourusername thank u mother love u tons

joshjenkinson_ this is my formal apology.

yourusername WHERE?? joshjenkinson_ there. that was it.

danielricciardo can i finally post the two of u on daniel.jpg ??

ynfan223 jumping off a cliff

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THE ENDDD

i hope u enjoyed ittt lmk !!!

and send more reqs !!!

[pascallatte]

Payback

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!reader

Summary: a behind the scene moment, filmed by Pedro himself. A closer look at the chaos that happens in between takes.

Date: Nov 2016

Warning/s: none just pure old fluff

A/N: Yeahhhhh, why does it feel so long since I've posted something?? Also, Twitter fics will be posted a day after the main fic is posted (will post more info soon). Anyways, here I am again with a new fic, hope you enjoy this like you did with my past ones!! Happy reading.

The set of narcos on and off screen can be described as…chaotic. It may be because of the cast themselves. The teasing, between Pedro and you, is something that isn’t new. And with Pedro posting on Instagram another one of those videos you and him, while preparing for the second season, fans can think that their game still hasn’t been set straight. This leads us to this, to which fans say the Normalcy of the relationship between you and Pedro.

Caption

@yourusername, always gives me a hard time while shooting, it’s payback time.❤️ #NarcosSeason2 #Netflix 

As soon as the video started, it blinded whoever was watching because of the intense light that was given by the sun that day. Pedro, who was recording, panned the phone around to catch a small behind-the-scenes look. Clearing his throat he flips the camera to show himself, fully clothed as the hardcore agent, Javier Pena.

“Hello, I was given the chance to go on break while they,” points to you and Boyd behind him, who was talking to one of the producers, “shoot some more things. While waiting, I’m just going to sit in this chair and eat what I can.” He gets comfortable on his designated make-up chair reaching for some snacks before popping them in his mouth. 

“Why eat what I can? Its because-, “ flips the phone to you and zooms in on your red sweat-covered face, which actually still looked good despite being under the sun for almost the whole day,”-‘cause, ducky over there would come here, soon, and take all these-these snacks, especially these small cheese filled biscuits. She likes them.” He whispers to himself or rather the camera, during the last part.

The phone almost slips from his hands as he tries to zoom in for a closer view, which he gets. You and Boyd were seen smiling to the crew as you walked in his direction, presumably already given the signal for you to be able to take a break. Still far, he follows your move as you walk towards him looking straight past the camera at him, smiling and waving. Unconsciously he whispers to himself, “Ah tan bonita, bebe.” So pretty, baby.

You were stopped just a few feet away from him by a staff member, allowing him to hide the phone while still being able to record the whole thing. Placing it down in front of him and flips to see Pedro leaning on the armrest. Turning to look at you, with a look that tells that he's waiting for you to look at him as he gives an adoring look towards your direction. 

“Hola Pedrito,” you said in a soft tired voice. Your voice was heard first receiving a smile from Pedro as you circle around his chair and hug him from behind, whispering to him as he looked at you nodding. The camera was then fixed to see the two of you, you hugging Pedro from behind, a small peck placed on his cheek. You were seen smiling at him before you take a sip from the drink that he has offered you. 

Just noticing the camera, you turn your head to him, gesturing to the phone that he’d set up. As you stood straight, taking his drink with you. Raising a brow, giving him a questioning look, “¿qué estás haciendo?” what are you doing?

Grinning up at you, he subtlely reached for your hand, making sure it wasn’t seen on tape, “Te estoy grabando.” I'm recording you. 

“¿Desde cuando?” a nervous chuckle escaped you, fighting the panicked look that was about to escape you, knowing what this was all about now. Since when?

He laughs at your expression, reaching up for his drink and responding with a “Desde antes de que llamaran a un descanso.” Making you raise the drink-filled cup away from him. Since before they called for a break.

Setting the cup somewhere out of the frame, you came back to look at him suddenly slapping his thighs and walking away mumbling, “Ayayay Pedro.”

An amused “Why?!” was heard from him before the video ended. And if that wasn't enough, it was followed by another one.

You were now sitting next to him, almost shoulder to shoulder, still enjoying the break given to you. In the entirety of the video, you were seen reaching into the same bags of chips or bowls of candies that he reaches for, getting the same thing he already has. And not only the food but also the drinks.

Besides you copying every bite or drink he does, you also copy his gestures. From the eyebrow-raising to adjusting himself in his seat, the hair flips, and the most iconic, as you call it, brushing-of-the-mustache.

It wasn’t that Pedro wasn’t aware of your antics, he just thought that it was a coincidence. So when he sees you do the gesture on your invisible moustache as well as drinking from a cup, he knows that you were on to something. And he’s going to stop it before it even happens.

Pedro calls your name out of the blue, unaware that he already knows, and calls out his name too.

“Y/n.”

“Pedro.”

He stares at you. Long enough to make you falter and tilt your head in confusion. Still making eye contact he takes a sip, in which you copy (obviously).

He grunts at what seems like a confirmation to him as he was seen nodding his head. Placing his cup down in front of the phone camera, he leans closer to you.

“Stop copying me.”

Letting out a soft laugh, “What? I’m not.” You feigned innocence backing up as he leans in closer. You look to your left at the camera, shaking your head.

You were only able to hear a short “Okay,” before you were pulled to the side as Pedro’s arm softly pulls you to him. Now laughing, you try to move away by hitting his torso and pulling his arm. But you just stayed in place, sadly for you.

“You can’t copy me now, can’t you?” He teases as he looks down at you, who was huffing out a breath hands on the forearm around your neck.

“Isn’t this abuse?” You lightly said, jabbing his chest. Causing him to loosen his hold a bit, allowing you to look at him. And to your surprise, you were closer than what you’d imagined, almost nose to nose.

“Nope,” he whispers before tightening his hold on now your shoulders, how it got there is something you don’t have a clue on. Squeezing you tightly, Pedro leans back on his chair making the two of you topple down, laughs and wheezes were heard before the phone was taken by Pedro to show you on the floor still laughing your hair covering your face.

The short video ended with a very…funny, or you'd like to say "a disgrace of a shot," close-up of your face all red from the laughing.

•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙

Taglist: @benonlinear @t-stark35 @heyitsme-2 @elleeeee21 @holmesstrange @tagakalat @flyestvenustrap @oldermenaremyreligion @cherryred444 @hobiismyhopeu @ilovehotdadsandshit @djarinsstuff @guacala @avengersheart @pukka-latte @lilvampirina @namgification @mmkkzz (bolded blog/s: I can't seem to find you guys' accounts but I'll still tag in case it works)

[serpentarii]

M O R D L U S T ; september 22nd, 2024

finally getting around to doing these more often now that i'm making money moves in the draft (this is a lie, i am making moves into my friends' dms to scream) so that means i have an excuse to make self-indulgent WIP edits.

my primary protagonist vératre, formerly known as voir, has been made sufficiently weird, and i think i've found a way to smoothly integrate all of the new scenes i added when i reformatted her half of the plot.

i've also been in my overthinking era to make sure that everything from color symbolism, animal motifs, to the specific variations of words characters use has a purpose. 90% of it will not be apparent in the actual draft so, to paraphrase myself, i'm like gay sisyphus opening and closing notion.

but, i do plan on making some character aesthetic intros, tv show edits, and finally getting around to that animal symbolism post 🐯

transcript below the cut:

Pale blue light flooded into the crate as the lid was pried off, then abruptly overturned, sending Aleksander tumbling out between a set of familiar armchairs. His attention traveled up the front of a familiar desk and landed at an unsmiling familiar face.  Sitting quietly on the other side of the desk was Lady Kos, regal as a queen and ten times wealthier, with pearl droplets woven into her dark braids, dressed in chiffon and lace from trailing hem to high, starched collar.  She was melting wax, her movements swift and assured as she poured a small pool onto the folds of an envelope and stamped it with a sigil Aleksander knew to dread. She took a sip of riesling, soundlessly replacing her glass onto the wood, before setting her sights on him.  “Herr Aleksander Fox,” she said at last. 

and since i haven't done this in like 4 years, surprise bitch. i'm doing a novel prep tag in here now.

first look ;

describe your novel in 1-2 sentences (elevator pitch) ;

a businessman-turned-thief finds himself entangled with a pair of opposing assassins and the roles they unknowingly play in a much grander conspiracy.

how long do you plan for your novel to be (novella, standalone, series, etc.)? ;

a standalone, thank god. the technically term would be roman fleuve, since i am planning future standalone works that take place within the same universe.

what is your novel’s aesthetic? ;

ancient buildings overtaken by nature, cemeteries at midnight, poisonous flowers, venomous snakes, whispering in shadowy alcoves, masquerade balls, bloodstained feathers, veiled truths

what other stories inspire your novel? ;

the his dark materials series by philip pullman, uprooted by naomi novik, classic gothic lit, fairy tales in general, and uh,,,,,,,exodus.

share 3+ images that give a feel for your novel ;

main character ;

who is your protagonist? ;

my two main protagonists/POVs are liferuiner and wannabe businessman aleksander fox, and vératre, a notorious poisoner struggling her way through a quarter-life crisis.

who is their closest ally? ;

aleksander's closest ally, at least in the beginning, is his friend heidi, an information broker with a secret :) and vératre begrudgingly accepts the help of salicaire, another assassin, since they are both nosy and want answers.

who is their enemy? ;

aleksander vs. the ospirin family (a fight he is nawt winning) and the church

what do they want more than anything? ;

so, to be cryptic, 3/4 of the leads in mordlust are all reflections of each other, what they could have been and what they want to be. the last of them is the mirror. they see in him what they want to see. and what they want, shockingly, is prestige, power, belonging, etc. they've always felt like strangers in their own skin and will go to terrible lengths to fit themselves into a society that was not made for them.

why can’t they have it? ;

dirty dirty politics for which they are mere pawns ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

what do they wrongly believe about themselves? ;

that because they've been hurt, they are justified in hurting others in pursuit of their goals.

draw your protagonist! (or share a description) ;

aleksander is a classic dandy with a hyperfixation on his vintage fox fur coat, which he wears even when it's wildly out of season and out of fashion because it's the nicest thing he owns. he's also usually seen wearing kid leather gloves and a golden cravat pin he received from his patroness. he's got green eyes, short auburn hair, lots of freckles, and more people would find him handsome if he didn't smile like he knew your fly was down and was refusing to tell you.

vératre's lips are stained purple due to. reasons. and so she wears a veil, which is not uncommon for particularly devout women. she has medium length brown hair she keeps pinned up into tight plaits and a notably long neck. also, she has pretty privilege because shits fucked and having attractive lay servants representing the house/church is common practice. since she works as a kitchen maid most of the week, she's often wearing her uniform w/ an apron. and sometimes she wears isme's black feathered cloak.

drawing wise, i do have this chart, courtesy of alex @bitethebard:

plot points ;

what is the internal conflict? ;

aleksander and vératre, being parallels of each other, have somewhat similar internal conflicts. they both came from nameless villages out in the countryside and share a burning desire to be more. in vératre's case it's v much a "be careful what you wish for" situation, because in receiving everything she thought she wanted she's no longer herself and unhappier than ever. aleksander is younger and earlier along in his journey, but barreling down the same path. except the choices he makes fucks shit up for the people around him more than they effect himself.

what is the external conflict? ;

again, cutthroat politics (literally). everyone has something they'd kill for.

what is the worst thing that could happen to your protagonist? ;

other than dying horribly, probably being tethered to an uncaring master, praying to uncaring gods, and trying to find comfort in an uncaring church for the rest of their miserable lives.

what secret will be revealed that changes the course of the story? ;

aleksander is entangled in a pseudo-liar revealed plot, which i kinda hate, but as an extremely unreliable narrator his priorities are not in proper order... vératre is witnessing the horrors.

do you know how it ends? ;

yeah

bits & bobs ;

what is the theme? ;

blind faith is dangerous. you must learn to take responsibility for both the good and the bad actions you take, and attaching yourself to someone or something at random to validate your own existence isn't healthy. holiness exists not only in gods but in small moments of happiness and in the people we love. and lastly don't fucking steal someone's skin and sell it on the black market.

what is a recurring symbol? ;

thorns.

where is the story set? (share a description!) ;

niederbrinn, the capital city of falkenreik, which is loosely inspired by pre-german empire prussia. it's filled with tons of gothic™ architecture and fun locations like cathedrals, catacombs, and creature shops. it's situated closer to the malevolent eldritch forest than most would like.

do you have any images or scenes in your mind already? ;

hell yeah

what excited you about this story? ;

mostly isme. and then the other 3 protags ig 🙄

tell us about your usual writing method! ;

these days, i usually write a rough outline and expand it using the snowflake method, incorporating ideas, themes, and worldbuilding along the way. then i make a proper outline where i figure out chapters, acts, the dreaded midpoint, etc. i don't write in chronological order so this helps a ton with out-of-context lines since i have a reference for where i want them based on the location/emotional state of the characters. getting myself to actually sit down and WRITE the damn thing is the problem, shout out to my fellow procrastinating perfectionists <33

if you made it to this point you are sexy and i love you, byeeee !!

[feminerds]

The thesis is: Desire I Want to Turn Into You (DIWTTITY) is an exploration of the many forms our relationships to billionaires take.

So I saw that advert (the amazon one - with Bunny is a Rider and the cat) last week, and I can no longer abstain from posting about it.

*club-horn blaring* Never Post Podcast Mentioned *bhrmmm bhrmm bhrmr*

My family and friends will no longer tolerate the Pepe Silvia timbre of my yelling about CARO POLO (Caroline Polachek). So I simply must turn to outlet of the desperate - making posts - and talking to strangers on the internet about my little obsessions.

(I joined r/Caroline Polachek and they are all disappointingly normal about her(!) it's nice and fun there. But c'mon now I wanna talk to the people who are being little freaks about her - I know they're out there - it cannot possibly just be me!)

I am making a slow series (there's like 2) of tikt*ks about the subject - and I've been posting Grenade Journals about it for quite some time!

CAROLINE POLACHEK's diwttity IS OBSESSED WITH BILLIONAIRES!

As you well know.

06 May 2024

Addendum: I don’t truck with billionaires - obvs, and this is by no means an endorsement of them. I just think it’s interesting that we all kinda have to - because of the *gestures broadly* circumstances - think about them so often. And because we have to think about them so much, I maybe feel it's important to notice how we concieve of this relationship "we have with them" and interrogate it's forms, functions and limitations!