#call it mamma-mia issues

[sketchyghost27]

some more Magisterium day-to-day headcannons!

- Calls issues with his leg/ walking are cannon. What the books don’t tell you is that Tamara and Aaron secretly use airmagic to help him get around when they’re with. Call would never let them do it, but they both see his expression relax whenever his leg magically stops hurting

- Jasper has a huge CD collection. Callum has a pretty rare CD collection. Fate would have it theyre into the same kind of music, and during the long months away from society trade their CD’s like Pokémon cards

- Tamara (surprisingly) has extremely poor hand-eye coordination. Both Call (mechanics son) and Aaron (just perfect at everything) are usually throwing stuff around. Teachers think they’re trying to be gentlemen when going up to Tamara and directly handing her stuff, but in truth they know it’d land on the floor otherwise

- Havoc has a giant “nest” of discarded clothes, high end blankets and knitted pillows right behind the Dorms couch. Until they find that out, the three roommates are basically detectives trying to catch each other stealing

- Aaron is a huge ABBA fan.

- Tamara has smuggled in a Laptop and some DVD’s during their teens, and they spend evenings rewatching Mamma Mia, Scream, Gentlemen prefer blondes and Transformers

[rockalillygirl]

Mamma mia here we go again…

So I have more thoughts because apparently there’s no bottom to the murderbot mindhole I’ve fallen down.

(Spoiler warning- minor stuff from several of the books, pls check tags etc.)

I’ve been reading a lot of things recently exploring Murderbot as an unreliable narrator, which I think is a cool result of System Collapse (because we all know our beloved MB is going through it in this one). There’s also been some interesting related discussion of MB’s distrust of and sometimes biased assessment/treatment of other constructs and bots.

And I’ve been reading a lot about CombatUnits! And I want to talk about them!!

Main thoughts can be summarized as follows:

We don’t see a lot about CombatUnits in the books, and I think what we do see from MB’s pov encourages the reader to view them as less sympathetic than other constructs.

I’m very skeptical of this portrayal for reasons.

The existence of CombatUnits makes me fucking sad and I have a lot of feelings about them!

I got introduced to the idea of MB as an unreliable narrator in a post by onironic It analyzes how in SC, MB seems to distrust Three to a somewhat unreasonable degree, and how it sometimes infantilizes Three or treats it the way human clients have treated it in the past. The post is Amazing and goes into way more detail, so pls go read it (link below):

https://www.tumblr.com/onironic/736245031246135296?source=share

So these ideas were floating around in my brain when I read an article Martha Wells recently published in f(r)iction magazine titled “Bodily Autonomy in the Murderbot Diaries”. I’ll link the article here:

(Rn the only way to access the article is to subscribe to the magazine or buy an e-copy of the specific issue which is $12)

In the article, Wells states that MB displaced its fear of being forced to have sex with humans onto the ComfortUnit in Artificial Condition. I think it’s reasonable to assume that MB also does this with other constructs. With Three, I think it’s more that MB is afraid if what it knows Three is capable of, or (as onironic suggests in their post and I agree with) some jealousy that Three seems more like what humans want/expect a rogue SecUnit to be.

But I want to explore how this can be applied to CombatUnits, specifically.

We don’t learn a lot about them in the books. One appears for a single scene in Exit Strategy, and that’s it. What little else we know comes from MB’s thoughts on them sprinkled throughout the series. To my knowledge, no other character even mentions them (which raises interesting questions about how widely-known their existence is outside of high-level corporate military circles).

When MB does talk about CombatUnits in the early books, it’s as a kind of boogeyman figure (the real “murderbots” that even Murderbot is afraid of). And then when one does show up in ES, it’s fucking terrifying! There’s a collective “oh shit” moment as both MB and the reader realize what it’s up against. Very quickly what we expect to be a normal battle turns into MB running for its life, desperately throwing up hacks as the CombatUnit slices through them just as fast. We and MB know that it wouldn’t have survived the encounter if its humans hadn’t helped it escape. So the CombatUnit really feels like a cut above the other enemies in the series.

And what struck me reading that scene was how the CombatUnit acts like the caricature of an “evil robot” that MB has taught us to question. It seems single-mindedly focused on violence and achieving its objective, and it speaks in what I’d call a “Terminator-esque” manner: telling MB to “Surrender” (like that’s ever worked) and responds to MB’s offer to hack its governor module with “I want to kill you” (ES, pp 99-100).

(Big tangent: Am I the only one who sees parallels between this and how Tlacey forces the ComfortUnit to speak to MB in AC? She makes it suggest they “kill all the humans” because that’s how she thinks constructs talk to each other (AC, pp 132-4). And MB picks up on it immediately. So why is that kind of talk inherently less suspicious coming from a CombatUnit than a ComfortUnit? My headcanon is that I’m not convinced the CombatUnit was speaking for itself. What if a human controller was making it say things they thought would be intimidating? Idk maybe I’ve been reading too many fics where CombatUnits are usually deployed with a human handler. There could be plenty of reasons why the CombatUnit would’ve talked like that. I’m just suspicious.)

(Also, disclaimer: I want to clarify before I go on that I firmly believe that even though MB seems to be afraid of CombatUnits and thinks they’re assholes, it would still advocate for them to have autonomy. I’m not trying to say that either MB or Wells sees CombatUnits as less worthy of personhood or freedom- because I feel the concept that “everything deserves autonomy” is very much at the heart of the series.)

So it’s clear from all of this that MB is scared of CombatUnits and distrusts them for a lot of reasons. I read another breathtaking post by @grammarpedant that gives a ton of examples of this throughout the books and has some great theories on why MB might feel this way. I’ll summarize the ones here that inspired me the most, but pls go read the original post for the full context:

https://www.tumblr.com/grammarpedant/703920247856562177?source=share

OP explains that SecUnits and CombatUnits are pretty much diametrically opposed because of their conflicting functions: Security safeguards humans, while Combat kills them. Of course these functions aren’t rigid- MB has implied that it’s been forced to be violent towards humans before, and I’m sure that extracting/guarding important assets could be a part of a CombatUnit's function. But it makes sense that MB would try to distance itself from being considered a CombatUnit, using its ideas about them to validate the parts of its own function that it likes (protecting people). OP gives what I think is the clearest example of this, which is the moment in Fugitive Telemetry when MB contrasts its plan to sneak aboard a hostile ship and rescue some refugees with what it calls a “CombatUnit” plan, which would presumably involve a lot more murder (FT, p 92).

This reminds me again of what Wells said in the f(r)iction article, that on some level MB is frightened by the idea that it could have been made a ComfortUnit (friction, p 44). I think the idea that it could’ve been a CombatUnit scares it too, and that’s why it keeps distinguishing itself and its function from them. But I think it’s important to point out, that in the above example from FT, even MB admits that the murder-y plan it contrasts with its own would be one made by humans for CombatUnits. So again we see that we just can’t know much about the authentic nature of CombatUnits, or any constructs with intact governor modules, because they don’t have freedom of expression. MB does suggest that CombatUnits may have some more autonomy when it comes to things like hacking and combat which are a part of their normal function. But how free can those choices be when the threat of the governor module still hangs over them?

I think it could be easy to fall into the trap of seeing CombatUnits as somehow more complicit in the systems of violence in the mbd universe. But I think that’s because we often make a false association between violence and empowerment, when even in our world that’s not always the case. But, critically, this can’t be the case for CombatUnits because they’re enslaved in the same way SecUnits and ComfortUnits are (though the intricacies are different).

There was another moment in the f(r)iction article that I found really chilling. Wells states that there’s a correlation between SecUnits that are forced to kill humans and ones that go rogue (friction, p 45). It’s a disturbing thought on its own, but I couldn’t help wondering then how many CombatUnits try to hack their governor modules? And what horrible lengths would humans go to to stop them? I refuse to believe that a CombatUnit’s core programming would make it less effected by the harm its forced to perpetrate. That might be because I’m very anti-deterministic on all fronts, but I just don’t buy it.

I’m not entirely sure why I feel so strongly about this. Of course, I find the situation of all constructs in mbd deeply upsetting. But the more I think about CombatUnits, the more heartbreaking their existence seems to me. There’s a very poignant moment in AC when MB compares ART’s function to its own to explain why there are things it doesn’t like about being a SecUnit (AC, p 33). In that scene, MB is able to identify some parts of its function that it does like, but I have a hard time believing a CombatUnit would be able to do the same. I’m not trying to say that SecUnits have it better (they don’t) (the situation of each type of construct is horrible in it’s own unique way). It’s just that I find the idea of construct made only for violence and killing really fucking depressing. I can’t even begin to imagine the horror of their day-to-day existence.

@grammarpedant made another point in their post that I think raises a TON of important questions not only about CombatUnits, but about how to approach the idea of “function” when it comes to machine intelligence in general. They explain that, in a perfect version of the mbd universe, there wouldn’t be an obvious place for CombatUnits the way there could be for SecUnits and ComfortUnits who wanted to retain their original functions. A better world would inherently be a less violent one, so where does that leave CombatUnits? Would they abandon their function entirely, or would they find a way to change it into something new?

I’ve been having a lot of fun imagining what a free CombatUnit would be like. But in some ways it’s been more difficult than I expected. I’ve heard Wells say in multiple interviews that one of her goals in writing Murderbot was to challenge people to empathize with someone they normally wouldn’t, and I find CombatUnits challenging in exactly that way. Sometimes I wonder if I would’ve felt differently about these books if MB had been a CombatUnit instead of a SecUnit. Would I have felt such an immediate connection to MB if its primary function before hacking its governor module had been killing humans, or if it didn’t have relatable hobbies like watching media? Or if it didn’t have a human face for the explicit purpose of making people like me more comfortable? I’m not sure that I would have.

Reading SC has got me interested in exploring the types of people that humans (or even MB itself) would struggle to accept. So CombatUnits are one of these and possible alien-intelligences are another. All this is merely a small sampling of the thoughts that have been swirling around in my brain-soup! So if anyone is interested in watching me fumble my way through these concepts in more detail, I may be posting “something” in the very near future!

Would really appreciate anyone else’s thoughts about all of THIS^^^^ It’s been my obsession over the holidays and helping me cope with family stress and flying anxiety.

[gaberfaber]

Artwork I’m not gonna finish. It was inspired by My Chemical Romance’s Three Cheers For Sweet Revenge album cover (that was drawn by Gerard Way). ALSO IMPORTANT ANNOUNCEMENT

If any of you have read my fic The Life of a Horrid Boy, you were probably wondering about the next update. The thing is.

I’ve lost all motivation to keep working on it.

Good thing to remember is that I’m not abandoning it. At least I’m going to try not to. The problem I have with it is that I no longer like the story that the fic is about. I have a completely new writing style then what I did 2-3 years ago. The story is old, and yes it’s almost completed, just a few chapters left, but I fell out of love with the story. I have other fics I would love to act on, but I feel like I can’t because of TLoaHB is unfinished. There’s also so many writing issues in it, that I just can’t fix unless I rewrite the entire thing. I have other Horrid Henry, and other fandom fics I would love to write for, so I think I’m just going to continue on those, before I find motivation to keep working on TLoaHB. I felt so overwhelmed with amount of popularity it had, I’m glad people like it, it’s honestly what I want, but since it’s so old, I just don’t want to finish it. I might will, but idk. My next Horrid Henry fic idea is called ‘Mamma Mia’ I don’t want to spoil it, but it is pretty different from TLoaHB, but also still High School Romance. I just want to branch out into these characters issues more than what I did in TLoaHB. In TLoaHB is pretty messy, I want something cleaner. Something easy to understand. There was so much for the romance in TLoaHB, and I still want that, but I really want to dig into these characters issues. Sorry for making you guys wait until now to know this. I might make an update explaining what I did here but on Wattpad, but I also don’t want to make a new chapter just to explain that I’m not discontinuing but I’m having a break. So I want to let myself be free and do what I want to do. Thank you for reading TLoaHB if you did. It might get updated. The next chapter is unifinished, might or might not post it. Thank you, your comments meant the world to me. Best 2-3 years of writing I’ve ever lived. ❤️❤️❤️

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐍𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!  

a/n: okay now this actually is my ALL TIME FAVOURITE post that I’ve ever done ... I was literally kicking my feet and giggling while writing this ...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

SFW🌿

Wanda is such a sweet partner. She has so much love and she just needs a person to give her love to. What better idea than to have two people to love?

Nat felt hesitant at first. But got more comfortable with the idea when she saw you and Wanda interacting. 

You have Mummy issues? They’re healed. They’re gone.

Wanda is the type of person to call you out of the blue, even when you’re at work.   “I just wanted to hear your voice!”

Whereas if Nat called you out of the blue, you’d start to panic

The amount of support and encouragement in this relationship is out of this world. 

Whenever you have a bad day, there is always someone ready to make it better

You guys have favourite tv shows and movies that someone will put on randomly, even if no one is watching it. All three of you agree that it’s for comfort; background noise is a must in the household. These are: → Gavin & Stacey: a british tv show that Nat originally thought was ridiculous but now you all do the accents → Modern Family: Wanda LOVES this show, she likes the family dynamics and that they’re always there for one another → Peaky Blinders: This is Nat’s favourite, she loves Tommy Shelby. There are certain aspects of the show that she can connect with → Vikings: all three of you like this show! Especially Lagertha; all of you have a crush on her.  → Elf: yes, Wanda knows it’s a Christmas movie, but when she first saw it, she couldn’t stop. So Nat had to put a ban on it unless it’s near Christmas (which Wanda said was November 1st) → Mamma Mia: All three of you know the words to EVERY ABBA song. Once Yelena slept over and you had the movie playing and she became OBSESSED.  → Every single Harry Potter movie: Wanda sees herself as a Hufflepuff (is actually a Slytherin), Nat knows and accepts she’s a Slytherin → Practical Magic: comes on during the start of Autumn/Fall and stays playing until the 1st of November

Wanda is an amazing cook, especially when it comes to baking. She usually makes a different sweet at the beginning of the week. 

You literally don’t have to lock your house up because you’re protected by the two most formidable women on the planet 

Nat’s love language is acts of service and secretly words of affirmation. She absolutely DIES whenever you say “I’m proud of you” or “You did a great job!”

And Nat is always the one to fix tires, lightbulbs and get rid of spiders

You might think that Nat would be against living in a cottage, but she absolutely adores it. It was your idea, and Wanda fell in love with it

There are many pets in your household, Nat felt like they were liabilities at first. She wasn’t used to a breathing thing continuously dependent on her

Wanda was a tad unsure as well, but she folded almost instantly 

Your pets are:  Trix: the newest addition to the family, she’s a little black kitten who is absolute chaos. She runs up and down the hallways, doing those weird little cat stances. It makes all three of you laugh. Malachi (nicknamed Mal): An Irish wolfhound who had been at the pound for years and was about to be put down Alf: grumpy ol’ fluffy cat who likes to sleep in the sun all day every day. funnily enough, his favourite human is Nat. 

Alf bit Sam Wilson when he came to visit and he was so offended because usually animals LOVE him. 

There are so many panic buttons around the house in case it becomes a target 

Yes, you guys have your own rooms. But they’re basically where you keep your belongings. 

Nat works a lot at night, so it’s usually you and Wanda at home by yourselves. When it’s bedtime, you sleep together

Nat’s pet names for you are: ‘sweetheart’, ‘darling’, ‘honey’

Wanda’s pet name for you is: ‘moja ljubav’ meaning ‘my love’. It’s in Serbian which is the official language in Sokovia, where she grew up.

Wanda hums a lot, it’s usually a lullaby from her childhood. It calms her down, especially when she’s worked up

Nat and Wanda like to slow dance in the kitchen. Wanda’s head gently leaning on Nat’s chest, their arms wound tightly around each other. The pots and pans on the stove completely forgotten. 

Yelena visits often! She loves Wanda’s cooking, talking with you, and getting to see her big sister. You always beg her to sleep over, and most of the time, she does!

Wanda’s love language is physical touch and quality time. She loves when you kiss her face; peppering small kisses over her nose, cheeks, chin, and forehead.

When Sam comes to visit, he usually brings Bucky and although he starts off as moody, he soon comes to love staying over. He and Nat have a lot in common and chat about their pasts. 

Wanda does your and Nat’s nails. She begs Nat to let her do pink but never wins 

As a joke you bought everyone matching pajamas, and although it was very funny, you all wear them unironically

Wanda uses her powers for a lot of things, and you absolutely love it. It’s so handy! If something breaks, Wanda can fix it, if you’re out and guys are harassing you, she has the ability to LITERALLY CONTROL THEIR MINDS. 

Nat is the least likely to hold grudges, then you, then Wanda...

You’ve all decided that you want to travel the world together. Nat may not appear as excited as you and Wanda (she’s already traveled the world, but that was for missions.)

Wanda wants to go to Disneyland. Can you imagine Nat and Wanda with the mickey ears on?!

Theme Song: 

Gimme All Your Love by Alabama Shakes

Relationship Tropes: 

  ✧ Moon (Nat) x Sun (You) x Eclipse (Wanda)

  ✧ Tragic Past x Ray of Light (this goes for everyone)

  ✧ The Impulsive (Wanda) x The Hyperactive (You) x The Unheeded Voice of Reason (Nat)

[miyukiford]

"Admist the wrath of my mother's love"

Growing up, people had always told me, "be kind to your mother, it's her first time living, too."

I always thought that growing up would be like those romcom movies, romance series, and living carefree. In my teenage dreams, never once have I included my mother. Was I really that selfish?

I grew up in a family of 6. My mother, my father, and my 3 siblings. (And of course me)

I was the youngest out of all my siblings. Me and my mother had always been the closest together, my sisters often going out with their friends and my father always getting buried in his work, which always left me and my mother alone in the house.

Although we were always together, not once have I really felt close to her. She was always so distant, often sitting beside me in our room in silence. Although moments like these were often with us, her presence was always constant as I slipped away from her, thinking that she would never understand me.

She annoyed me, But she was my mother. I hated receiving her calls when I was out with friends, her unending knocking on my bedroom door and the unwanted food she would always bring me. Why can't she just let me live my teenage dreams alone?

I would share my day with my friends, or people on social media, just like how I would share my first days of school with her. But did they ever listen like she does?

My mom wakes up at 4AM every morning. Ironing my clothes, preparing hot water and making my food. All without a single complain despite her tiredness and busy day ahead. Her love and dedication never failed to amaze me. Does she still remember my favorite food?

I still recall dancing with her in the kitchen when I was 9, singing one of our signature songs. I took one last glimpse at the kitchen before I left for my first day of highschool. She stood there, smiling as she cleaned up the mess I left behind. I left without saying goodbye.

On the drive to my first day of kindergarten, tears streamed down my cheeks, my mother would gently wipe them with her soft hands and cheer me up.

If only I could tell her how much I love her, how I need her by my side, how I cherished her homemade meals, I would dance with her endlessly, she wouldn't have to knock at my door, she's always welcome. We would eat the meals she cooked, together.

I know I'll regret it until my last breath. She was just trying, and she was hurting too. I'm sorry for hating you as you slipped away without me by your side. No time machine could ever match your love, but it could rewind me to the days I wished would never end.

I once sat on a bench in a park, surrounded by joy, laughing mothers and happy children. In that moment, the depth of my mother's love struck me. As I sat on the bench, I felt out of place, surrounded by laughter in a carefree world where I feel like I would never belong. For the first time in a while, I longed for my mother. It felt like a physical blow right in front of me, surrounded by reminders of a bond that could have been, but never quite happened. The bond I imagined as clear as the water from the fountain I used to throw coins in, each coin was a wish for an embrace I longed for, her warm embrace holding me close for as long as I wished.

Mommy issues made me a thoughtful child, now I know that love can never be bought, not even by countless pennies. Do you think of me like I think of you? We could have been like them, laughing and playing on the playground as you pushed me on the swing.

I wished you knew, mom.

[oftenderweapons]

Natural Connection | KNJ | Ch.6

A Small Town Swoons

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Plum)

Wordcount: 6.6k

Genre: stragers to lovers, fluff, mild angst; ranger/trainer!Namjoon, Chef!reader

Rating: 18+

Synopsis: Namjoon has some skeletons in his closet. Plums helps him bury them in a way that makes him feel almost reborn.

Warnings: discussion of mature topics: sex, emotional abuse. A painful trip down memory lane, burnout, anxiety. Also heavy flirting, making out and loads of raunchy jokes. Mentions of depression, therapy and feeling out of chances to restart

A/N: I’m posting this in some sort of a rush while barely keeping my eyes open,it’s not edited or reviewed, I just want it out there for you to read 💜 I’ll review it in the morning and add links. Love ya 💖✨🥺

Here is my Masterlist, enjoy!

Navi: Part 1 – Part 2 — Part 3 – Part 4 - Part 5

“Lone wolf. That's not a cute way to spend the night.” Jackson's words were just mildly teasing. He was mostly compassionate as he sat beside Namjoon at the counter of the bar. “What's given you the blues?” 

Namjoon shook his head and took a sip of beer. He had never been much of a drinker, and he regretted not being able to hold his liquor properly, because tonight really called for some hard spirits. “Nothing really.” 

“It's her, isn't it? Your Tinkerbell lady.” 

Namjoon grumbled and groaned, letting his head fall to his wrists, current laying crossed on top of the counter. 

“Hey, dude, we thought we'd lost you,” said Christopher as he approached the other two men at the bar. “Oh. I see,” he said as he made himself comfortable on Namjoon's other side. “We all have a vague idea of what happened the other day when you followed her to the bathroom,” Christopher hinted, then rubbed Namjoon's shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?” 

He shook his head, than took a large sip of his beer, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and put down the glass, quite loudly too. 

“I did something, but I don't know what. And today she said she needed a day off. And now I'm wondering if I did something wrong, whether it's my fault she cancelled on today, whether I made her uncomfortable and am now ruining her holiday — something she hadn't had in a very long time.”

“Namjoon—” 

“Maybe I'm not as good a friend with benefit as I thought’d been. Maybe I'm not an easy hot-girl-summer kind of thing. Maybe I suck in bed—” 

“Not unlikely,” muttered Jackson, at which both Namjoon and Christopher snapped in his direction, as if throwing daggers with their gazes. 

“Oh, come on, there's a possibility to it, you've been out of the market for a long while!” 

Christopher grabbed the tray of shots and started making his way to the table where the other guys were hanging out, while Jackson convinced Namjoon to join them. 

“Dude, we've found a way to make this party less about you!” Jackson hollered at Jaebeom, currently wearing a cute set of antlers and a sash that spelled “This dancing queen is getting married”. Very cute, and Namjoon appreciated the Mamma Mia reference. 

“Namjoon is having issues with Plum.” 

He rolled his eyes at your nickname being used by them. They always called you Tinkerbell anyways, why the sudden change? That was his own nickname for you, because of your cute, round face, and soft soft lineaments. And then also because of the taste of sun-dried plums in your mouth that time he kissed you in the pond, after that first, wondrous fuck. Maybe he hadn't satisfied you. Maybe his performance in the bathroom hadn't been as stellar. Maybe you'd already grown bored of him. 

“They're not issues,” Namjoon mumbled, vaguely grumpy. 

“Well, what are they, then? You fucked her and she's ghosting you?” Wooyoung asked bluntly. 

“Woo, no need to use that kind of language,” Christopher reprimanded. “Still, could that be the reason? She's maybe… Embarrassed about something that occurred the other day in the…” 

“You did it in the restroom!?” Mingi exclaimed. 

“A bit louder, Mingi, I think the guy in the corner over there didn't hear it clearly,” said Jaebeom with an eyeroll. 

“It was strange when we parted, yes, but… I guess there would have been other uhm… uncomfortable moments before. She would have bailed after the— uhm— the restroom. Not today? Why today? Why let so much time pass by?” 

Namjoon had always been an overthinker. He'd managed to control his tendencies through meditation and therapy, but once an overthinker, always an overthinker. Sure, you can put a damper on it, but it would be like putting a hyena in a clown costume: at the end of the day, it would still be a hyena. 

And he was struggling to find the words. He did not have the lingo for this. He did not have the nerves for this. He had not been mentally, emotionally engineered for this. 

“I know I fucked up. I'm sure I fucked up. I don't know where or how but—” 

“When I met my wife, I was a mess.” Jaebeom ran a hand through his hair and gave a weak chuckle. “I couldn't do without her. I spent weeks, months pining.” 

“It's your future wife, JB,” Jackson clarified.

“Fuck off, we're getting married, she's already my wife in my mind. One could argue she’s always been,” he snapped, a certain possessiveness taking over. “Anyways, I was saying, before this cold hearted snake interrupted—” 

“You were messing around, I made a move so you could feel the bitter bite of jealousy and realise you were wasting your time and your energies!” 

“As always, thank you for the lesson, but you didn't need to shove your tongue down her throat!” Jaebeom hissed at Jackson, then rolled his eyes. “Again, I was a mess. And I didn't know it, but she was a mess too. We only managed to fix it when we dragged our heads out of the sand and finally stated what we wanted.”

“Which, again, is something we told you to do cause you were a lowly little coward,” Christopher muttered. 

“Okay, whatever, just do what these two tell you to do,” Jaebeom said, exhausted, rubbing his face and picking up a glass shot. “Cheers to my wife, or whatever.”

“Poor woman,” Jackson whispered, which earned him a stormy look from the husband-to-be. “Anyways, what’s holding you back from going there and telling her what you want?”

“The fact that maybe I don’t even know what I want?” Namjoon but back, not without some exasperation. 

“What do you mean?” Christoper’s question was direct, firm. 

“I was… I haven’t been all that… active, lately.”

“By lately he means in the past eight years.” Everybody but Jackson turned to Namjoon, eyes wide, mouth gaping, the picture of disbelief. 

“What the fuck.” Wooyoung’s face was ashen before he shook his head lightly, “And why, for the love of holy smokes, did you punish yourself so?”

Namjoon stared at a glass shot, which Jackson noticed. He grabbed one shot for himself, one for his friend, then handed it over. 

Namjoon stared at it, but Jackson was already clinking their glasses together. “For the incredible woman who brought you back to life.”

“Life is fucking terrifying,” Namjoon whispered, anxiety bleeding out of him. But Jackson was tipping the glass over, the burning tang of tequila dribbling down his throat. 

“It really is, but you loved doing her, or you wouldn’t have done that twice.”

Namjoon’s brain promptly produced a supercut of every naked inch of your body, every curve, every movement, every flop of your hair, every gasp of your mouth, every droplet of moisture that your bodies shared in those moments. He recalled the feel of your breasts in his palms, the pressure of your behind as you ground against his groin. 

“Twice?” Mingi inquired, interested. 

“I’m not going to elaborate on that.”

Christopher respected the boundary, seeing Namjoon’s pained and tired expression. “What do you want from her?”

Namjoon shook his head. “I’ve got no idea. She’s leaving in a couple days. I mean, she’s lovely. But I’m not sure there’s enough time or space to build something more.”

“But you want more?”

“I do, eventually. But I thought it would happen with someone a bit more… Rooted. Here.” He was destroyed, Jackson could tell. Namjoon’s hair was all over the place with the way he’d tortured it with his hands. “But then she happened.”

“And it changed things, right?” Jaebeom asked. 

Namjoon stared at his feet. “The sex is so good. Just so, insanely, otherworldly, unbelievably good.”

“Let’s also say your terms of comparison were scarce,” Jackson added, teasing.

Namjoon smirked, then stared at Jackson for a long, loaded instant. “Both things can be true.” Then, he shrugged, toying with his fingers, smiling at himself. 

“He’s smitten,” Jaebeom said to no one in particular. 

“I guess I am,” he finally admitted. “Maybe it’s because the sex is good. That tends to alter your perception. I also think she’s attractive, and her energy is incredible. She’s also guarded, somehow, and delicate. It really makes me want to stand tall for her.”

“Knight in shining armour,” Wooyoung said with just a pinch of sarcasm in his tone.

“Which she doesn’t need,” Namjoon commented, puffing out his chest. “She’s just… She’s tough, but I just want her to know she doesn’t need to be when she’s around me. That’s what I like, I guess. And she’s unstoppable. She’s not the kind that would lie to you or put on an act to save her ass. She takes what she wants and she weathers the consequences of her own actions. And she’s a leader, she’s got backbone, she works great in a team, people see her, see how competent and hard-working she is, and they respect her for it.”

“Dude, you really are smitten.”

Namjoon grabbed another shot, and the other men quickly joined him. “To life-changing women,” said Jaebeom. 

Namjoon could happily toast to that. 

There… Just… there. 

So close. The lights were insulting his eyes, but his vision was clear. Oh so clear. 

The alcohol had made his eyes glossy and sensitive. And there. There, your door. 

He brought himself to climb the steps, then knock at the door. 

He wondered whether you were in bed. Maybe in the shower, maybe you were already asleep. Maybe you were… like that one time… 

His ears strained, searching for signs of you. 

He knocked again. He could call your phone, right? Did he have your number?

He could— 

The door opened before him, and you were standing there, an oversized white shirt covering your body all the way down to your knees. The fabric was thin and the chill night air was making your breasts peak. The sight of Namjoon right in front of you didn’t help at all. 

“Hi,” you said, a little breathless, and surprised too. 

“Hi.” The greeting was sharp, a little rushed. “I really would like to kiss you right now. Is that okay with you?”

You blinked. Once. Twice. Then nodded. 

He was upon you before you could even register him, or parse your agreement. His breath had the lightest taste of liquor, and his mouth was hot, as hot as his hands now cupping your face, gathering your face up close to his own. If he could have swallowed you, he would have. He dove for you and you soared for him and you met in between, perfectly, gentle but sure at first, and then it spiraled. 

This is what Icarus must have felt as he reached for the sun, you think, because you feel like burning and flying and falling. But isn't flying something like falling without ever hitting the ground? 

That's how you feel. 

Gravity isn't working where you and Namjoon kiss. It's not working as he wraps and links and loops his limbs through yours, legs and arms and wrists and ankles like ivy. Your thighs are around his waist, and he's holding you up by your hips, then your ass. 

“I'm coming in,” he says and you nod against his lips, waiting for him to come inside you, and you grind against him. Instead he chuckled against your throat, catching the double entendre. “I meant I'm entering your apartment.” 

You purred, heat warming your cheeks, but you were not sure whether it was embarrassment or pleasure. “But you could get inside me next.” 

“There's stuff I need to tell you,” he whispered close to your ear. 

“Can you tell me while you're inside me?” 

Namjoon's laugh was bright and glorious, perfectly rough and warm, the most tasteful combination of a scratch and a caress. “Plum, you're insatiable.” 

You looked at him with surprise, and just a pinch of innocence too. “I— Am I?” 

He closed the door with his foot, still holding you up in the entryway. “It's positively surprising. And very lovely.” 

You nodded to yourself in slow understanding. “Lovely…” you mused. “I never thought I would become something like this.” 

“Like what?” 

“Insatiable. Obsessed. Weak and dependent.” 

“You're absolutely not weak. And maybe it's not too bad to depend on someone every now and then.” His nose traced the column of your neck. “And it feels nice, knowing that you're a bit hung up.” 

You cant your hips just right against his, which causes you both to moan, your frown disappearing. “‘A bit hung up’ doesn't even cover half of it, trust me.” 

Your short nails bite the nape of his neck and he gasps a little, his hips giving the lightest stroke.

“I'm a bit of all of that too,” Namjoon confesses. “Insatiable. And obsessed. And… And weak.” He shakes his head, then hides his face against the slope of your neck. “I…” 

You smiled as he lost his words again, his mouth focusing on sucking at your throat. 

Your chuckle came out lightheaded and euphoric. It stopped entirely as he fixed his grip on your hips, lifting you higher up with a little bounce, and then lowering you again, against his crotch. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to focus on anything but the burning need at your core. 

He nibbled at your collarbone, then whispered, “Fuck, you're so wet.” There was tension in his voice, conflict. “But I've gotta tell you all of that.” 

“We can do this, and then talk,” you suggested again, your voice coming out barely patient, and strained. Oh, and imploring too. 

He shook his head, then put you down. “Talk first, then I'll do anything you want, Plum.” 

You pouted, which almost broke his resolve, but he caressed your cheek and your frown disappeared like a spring cloud. 

“First, I just want to make sure you didn't stay in today because you were avoiding me.” His eyes betrayed a sliver of insecurity before he looked away, staring at the floor. 

You’re caught off guard by his statement, and you’re not sure how to reply. Did he really think—? “Absolutely not!” You exclaimed, hooking your pointer finger beneath his chin and bringing his eyes to yours. “No, Namjoon. Sure, I’ve been…” You searched for the right word for a couple seconds, “Confused. By some of the things I felt yesterday. But I am not avoiding you at all. I just needed to be off today, and rest. And maybe think about some stuff, but none of it had to do with you,” you stated, reassuringly and firmly, then reconsidered, a coy warmth creeping to your cheeks. “Well, maybe it had the tiniest bit something to do with you. But not in a bad way. Actually in a very good, very mature, very grown-up way.”

Namjoon almost startled at your statement, his head jerking back slightly. “Oh. Wow. Okay.” 

“Oh goodness, you thought I was avoiding you?” You asked him, a smile spreading all over your face. “Really!?” 

“No,” he said, the vowel stretching, his intonation absolutely hesitant, absolutely doubtful, and very, very embarrassed. 

You threw your arms around him, gluing your body to his. “Oh god. Joon, no.” You laid a couple kisses on his chest, then added, “Absolutely not.”

“Good,” he stated. “Still, I was absolutely sure you weren’t avoiding me. So this statement is totally unnecessary and it doesn’t calm my nerves at all, because they were already one hundred percent calm.”

You roll your eyes and place your forehead and nose in a way that aligns perfectly with the valley between his pectorals. “Good, now can you calm my own? Historically, someone telling you ‘I need to tell you something’ doesn’t end in a nice way.” The nervous chuckle you emit then is a clear testament to how much he has become to you. How much you have elaborated in the last hours, corroborating your decisions. 

This is not going to be forever, you think, but I wouldn’t mind if it lasted a bit more. 

Namjoon caressed your head, kissing the crown of it. “It’s nothing big, really. Just a tiny bit of backstory that I think you should know. It sorts of explains some parts of me that could be complicated to other people. Parts I would like you to know about.”

Summertime must be approaching, or maybe the heating came on: anyways you’re feeling hotter and hotter, and you’re pretty sure it’s a flock of tropical birds that is currently storming your stomach. 

“Okay.”

”Let’s get comfy, shall we?”

You agree, then lead him through the room. It’s not the first time he sees it, after all he did sleep here with you a couple nights ago, before he left at dawn for some reason, leaving you on the verge of insanity with desire and doubt both.

He sits at the edge of the bed and you stand before him, ready to climb astride him, except he shakes his head and smiles mischievously. “No way this is happening,” he teased, then slid slightly to his right, avoiding your other leg, letting you sit at his side rather than on top of him. “You’re too dangerous sitting on my lap, Plum.”

He says it in a way that makes it sound like a compliment, and you grin, eyeing him seductively. “Thank you.”

You both turn to each other, and he starts talking. “It’s been a while since I did this, you know. Being… Being intimate with someone.”

You nodded. “You mentioned something about a relationship you used to be in.”

He grabbed your hand, toying with your fingers, looking away, as if retracting within himself. “I’ve had one very long relationship. From fifteen, all the way to twenty years old circa.”

Your eyebrows shot to your hairline. “Wow.” 

“We were extremely close friends at first, then we sort of merged into the relationship until… I guess we just became too different to ever truly be one.”

You nodded encouragingly. 

“Her mom and mine were colleagues when we moved here. I was five or six.” His eyes connected to yours. “I was shy and she was very outgoing. We became friends. Or rather, she befriended me. I was one of those puffy, awkward kids, sort of a nerd too.”

He shrugged and blushed, his eyes gleaming. “In middle school she suddenly changed. She had one of those incredible glow ups. I guess puberty hit her like — I don’t know — suddenly she looked like Aphrodite’s favourite child. She was… She was like a goddess. Being attracted to her was inevitable. I liked her as a person, because she was my first friend here, and because I felt comfortable around her, and she didn’t make fun of me like other people, she didn’t act like I was weird and weak and chubby and awkward. And even though she became so beautiful, and so popular too, she was still kind to me, and treated me like a person.” Namjoon slumped, his stance turning self-protective.  

“Once we hit high school, she’d learned how to use the body genetics had gifted her. She filled it with confidence, and it rewarded her in return. Her attitude and her looks were the kind that spells trouble for a hormonal teenage boy. But despite that, I still cherished her the most as a friend, and the fact that she continued protecting me in front of popular kids making fun of me was really meaningful. I admired her for how she stood up in front of mean kids. She had the kind of influence that could make other kids respect me, or at least tolerate me.”

You held his hand fondly. “I get it.”

His eyes met yours with gratitude, and a pinch of hesitation. 

“And then I turned fifteen.”

You lick your lips, tip your head to the side and observe the smirk on his face. “In about three months, I grew taller than all the kids in my class, and though I wasn’t bulky like the football athletes, I played basketball with a friend of mine, and that kept me pretty fit, plus there was all the trekking and some climbing, and the canoeing too. I was also quite smart, and for some reason, some girls liked that. When we got back to school after summer break, I caught this girl’s eye. We were chatting, and things were getting personal and I ended up confiding in my friend, Aria.” His eyebrow quirked. “She didn’t take it well.”

You frowned, then waited for him to continue. 

“She gave me the silent treatment for three days straight. Meanwhile I was getting closer and closer to the other girl. One day I was talking to her by the lockers, and next thing I know, Aria is gripping my hand, gluing her body to my arm, and kissing my cheek. ‘Hi boyfriend,’ she said.” He shook his head. “The other girl didn’t take it well. She thought I was playing her.” He rubbed the hand across his face. “It took me years to make up for that.” He shook off the feeling, then continued, “By the end of the week, the entire school knew Aria and I were a thing. The week after that, we were making out pretty much anywhere, anytime. I guess it took us about a month before things got extremely serious, and Aria got on birth control because her mother was terrified at the thought of her getting pregnant, and teenage moms were so common back then, and she knew Aria was not really the religious type. She also had the kind of body that gets hyper sexualised because of pornography, you know. Of course any teenage boy would want to see it naked as soon as possible. And eventually do things with. Or have things done by. You get what I mean,” he concluded. 

You nodded. “Did you?” 

He laughed. “I was terrified. I wouldn’t have known where to start with it. And sure, I watched as much porn as any other dude my age, but it’s not like I was eager to reenact it in real life. It felt complicated, and loud, and dirty. So damn dirty.” He frowned and smiled at the same time. “It didn’t feel right.”

You study his face, the slight repulsion he seems to radiate from his body. 

“Then one night we were watching a movie — which actually means we were making out in my bed — and we were so damn close, and of course my body went haywire and… Let’s say she realised I was pretty interesting down there.”

You furrow your brow, trying to understand what he’s implying. “You mean…?” 

“She’d never felt me up, and that night she realised I was big.” The words didn’t come out with arrogance, but with a dry matter-of-factness. 

Your eyes widen suddenly, and he laughs a little, the sound deep and warm, and it sends tingles down your spine. “Oh.”

“That’s about what I said, too.” He smirked, blushing wildly. “Luckily I managed to hold her back that night, because I truly wasn’t ready, and I really wanted to get things right. So I bought condoms online, because I was too ashamed to buy them in person, and I kind of panicked for three days straight because I was terrified my mom or my dad would find out and get mad or make fun of me or whatever. And I did some research on… You know. The kind of stuff you have to erase from your browsing history.”

You chuckle, nodding. Hearing all of this is somehow fascinating. Knowing he was so clumsy, so embarrassed, and yet so committed to making it as safe and right and good as possible. It’s endearing somehow. Not only is he a good man now, but he was a good boy too, and it makes him shine even brighter to your eyes, this commitment to goodness.

“Still, I was not ready, emotionally. But she was impatient, and in the end I said, ‘screw it’ and I gave in. We were sixteen, we were two days into winter break, and this friend of mine has this little cottage by a small lake. He’d left me the keys to the cottage. We went there, and we had sex. I was terrified I was going to hurt her, because I’d read about first time sex being painful and all the fuss about hymens et cetera. But it went surprisingly well. I came in about fifteen seconds.”

You both laugh. “I guess I got lucky.”

He eyes you significantly. “You’ve got no idea how much.” 

“And then?” 

“And then we spend the entirety of winter break doing stuff.” He shrugs. “I could have done without, sometimes, but she was always trying to start trouble. And I wasn’t too strong about telling her no. But let’s be clear, it’s not like she was abusive or something, I was happy to have sex with her. I liked it a lot, and she had my consent, always, before doing things. But at the same time, I knew I was losing some of my connection with her. There was less talking, less quality time, less… We were having sex all the time. We didn’t watch movies, we didn’t read books, we didn’t hang out or you know, the stuff you actually share with someone. All we had was each other’s body and our own. There’s only so much a brain can feed off that. But we weathered it. And she was possessive, so it’s not like I had the chance of finding that with someone else. And the sex made me feel so lucky, knowing that I had someone who loved me so fiercely, someone so out of my league — it all made me feel like I should be grateful and I would be an idiot complaining, or looking for anything else, or trying to change the situation in any way.”

That’s when the pain starts to blossom in your chest. “So you start neglecting your emotional needs.” 

Namjoon nods slowly. “That. Precisely.” His eyes focus on your hands again, trying to avoid your face because he knows his expression might show too much now. “But we’re seventeen by this point. The sex starts to slow down, and we get some of the friendship back. I get a lot less awkward around eighteen, and my resumé is one of the brightest in my class. I’m in the debate team, and I’m in national competitions for writers. I write poetry, and short stories too; I win some prizes, I get published in a paper, then in a review.” 

“That’s impressive.” 

“I’m starting to live my dream life. I get selected in a summer programme for young writers. Aria is very proud of me. I get better at sex too, in the meanwhile.” He gives a boyish shrug. “I start planning my life with her at my side. By the time high school ends, I’ve managed to get a bit less awkward too, and Aria has fixed my haircut and my wardrobe. She gets selected by a university in California for a volleyball scholarship. It scares the shit out of me, but she accepts. She’s convinced we can make it long distance. I get into some niche writing academy on the east coast. 

It’s winter break when we see each other again.We’re all partying by the lake, me and her and some of our friends. We’re all so damn drunk, damn, I couldn’t even count the fingers of my hands. We’re all sitting by the fire when she leans against me and says, ‘You know why I’m sure we’re gonna make it?’ And I smile because I think she’s going to say something cheesy, something about the ring I bought with the money I made from the first short story I actually sold.”

You smile so bright at that, at his success, at such a huge milestone for someone who made writing his path, his vocation — and then it clicks.

Cuisine is your calling, you’ve always known, and that’s one of the first things you tell people when you introduce yourself. If he’s never mentioned writing then it means it never came true. Horror creeps in. 

“She said, ‘we’re gonna make it because I’ve fucked about twenty or so other people, but you still love me. And you’re the fucking best’.” He stops, snickers, and there’s so much self-loathing in the way he moves, the way he breathes. “I went stone cold sober in a millisecond. I asked her to repeat, to make sure I understood correctly. I laughed it off, excused myself to the bathroom, and cried my fucking eyes out. Threw up about three times or eight, then locked myself in a room. The following morning, I left before dawn, returned to my college with my mom. Returned the ring. And broke up with Aria through a text. Changed number. I detached myself from the entire world, disappeared for about a year, except for the people that truly mattered. I finished my programme in record time, mostly because Yoongi needed me back here, and well… I mostly finished school because I had to, but I never went back to writing. It’s like I’d been emptied, and to this day I’m not sure words will ever truly fill me again. I’m not sure they will ever spill from me again, or that I’ll find a way to make them flow like I used to.”

This is so wrong. You end up saying the words out loud. 

“I haven’t dated anyone since then. And I haven’t had sex with someone since the summer before I turned twenty.” 

“That’s seven years, isn’t it?” You ask, making sure you remember his age correctly. 

“It is.”

You whistle, impressed. “That’s… She really mess you up.” 

“I just changed lifestyle. No sex, no smoking, no heavy drinking. Just me, my plants, nature, my job. I love it. It fulfills me.” 

“And no writing? You don’t miss it?” 

He shrugs, and it looks like he’s trying very hard to act like he doesn’t care. But he so blatantly does care. “You can’t miss something you’ve never had.” 

“I think you had it, though. And I think it will come back for you.”

He sighs. “I won’t hold my breath.”

You shake your head. 

“She’s engaged to one of my high school classmates now.” His laugh is bitter. “He proposed last Christmas. Getting married this summer.”

You hesitate around his fingers. Is he still hung up on her?

His eyes meet yours. “And I get mad because I think a part of me still thinks it was supposed to be me. And I hate that part of me. I also hate the part of me that is still hurt over what she did. The part of me that remembers all that sex, and wonders whether it was ever real.” He bites his lip, and he looks mad, truly. “All of this means, I’ve been hurt before, ____, and that messes with my head sometimes. The day I met you, I was attracted to you almost instantly, and that made me trust myself less around you, and it made me doubt you too. I was terrified at how much I wanted you, and the way my body reacted to yours. The way I dreamt of you. And knowing you wanted me too— It terrified me and electrified me at the same time. You’ve been the first woman I’ve wanted, really wanted, in years. And I’m sorry if I’ve seemed hot and cold, but I don’t know what to do with myself. You’ve been nothing but transparent with me, and I know this thing with me and you can hardly go anywhere—”

You go impossibly still next to him and he notices, also in the way your fingers get rigid and seem to retract from his touch. 

“This is all to say, I really want to thank you for being so honest with me so far. And I’m sorry for any weird behaviour I’ve had. It’s just that her betrayal messed with me more than I’d like to admit. And I don’t like people getting too close, but I couldn’t help it with you, and I’m not too happy with the idea that this is temporary.”

You try to align your thoughts correctly, trying to make them make sense. “What do you mean?” 

Namjoon inches closer. “With what?” 

“You’re not okay with this being temporary?” You paraphrase. 

Namjoon grips both your hands, then gets even closer. “You’re here on holiday, we’ve known each other for days, and I’m scared that again it’s just sex pulling me to you. Just some infatuation. I mean, you can’t start having feelings for someone in days. Or maybe you can, maybe I do feel something for you, just the roughest draft of a feeling, but it’s okay if you don’t. I’ve always been pretty sensitive and impressionable, especially with emotions.” He stares at you, really does, like he’s trying to read your mind. “I don’t know whether there’s solid evidence that this could be something more than a holiday fling. I just think it’s precious that I found you, that I got to feel this with you. I’m grateful for it, were it to end, or were it to turn into something deeper, something more structured, more lasting.” 

“Namjoon,” you whisper. Silence hoovers heavily on top of you.

“I’m sorry, I… I exaggerated. I’m too much. Too fast.” He inched away from you, closing off, already hating himself for scaring you off. 

“No,” you murmur kindly, stretching to reach his face, pulling him back closer. “I want you. Want this. Letting go will hurt, but as you said, I’m grateful too for this. This will be bittersweet, but it can teach us something.” Does it make sense, wanting to let go of everything for three very excellent fucks? This must be the sex. It must be the very excellent sex. The orgasms, and the hormones, and the dopamine, and all the stress you’ve been collecting like star stickers from your working at the restaurant. Maybe the long overdue hours of sleep and fucking you need to catch up on. 

You can’t be thinking this while sober, go figure talking about it. “I’m considering making some changes in my life. Maybe this could be the beginning of something different.” 

“It feels unsafe that both of us are truly considering this.” Namjoon speaks like he’s pulling back, except his body is caving in, molding to yours. “If you don’t pull back, I’ll go all in.” 

“You know when we finished yesterday,” and then you add, cheeks hot with shame “in the restroom.”

He hums, his hand on your waist, pulling you closer, and you refuse to resist it. “I remember some bits of it, yes.” His leg slots deliciously between yours, and you follow his lead, purring at the pressure, delicious pressure where your core throbs. 

“It felt like you were taking care of me, for a second. At the pond in the woods too. You’re so caring, and it would be so easy to let myself lean in, get attached. It terrifies me. Because this is supposed to be just a fling, right?” 

“Except we could let it mean more. Invest more in this.” Your bodies are already doing that. Your brains too, because neither of you might be showing their cards, but you both are calculating how much adjusting would need to be done in order for this to work, doing the math of meeting halfway and spending one weekend here, one weekend there, and what’s a two hours drive when you can finally start using your paid leave days, the amount of which has turned insurmountable at this point. 

“Is it worth it? Or are we just high on hormones?” You wonder, but words are starting to come difficult on you, especially with the way his hand is tracing your spine under your shirt. 

“See, that’s what I was wondering too.” Namjoon has pinned your hands above your head, and you’re on your back now, his body strong above you, his heartbeat loud, his chest glued to yours, and his thigh firm between your core, hot and pulsing and wet. “So maybe we should sweat some of these hormones off and see if we still think about this once we’re a little more… sober.”

You nod, as if stunned and hypnotised at the same time. 

“Plum, tell me what you need,” he whispered. 

“Inside. I want you inside.” You lowered your hands to his shorts, undoing the ribbon there. “I never thought I’d be a sucker for being filled to the brim. But you, you…” you shake your head, frustration all over your face. “Clenching around you, squeezing you… I could come from that alone. I wake up from dreams of what we did in the woods. We do it here. We do it in the shower. We do it by the pool. By the lake. In the woods, again, and against the wall. I think about sex with you all the time.”

Namjoon slips two fingers in his mouth as you talk, wetting them, but also using his spit to roughly, rudimentarily get rid of some bacteria. 

He slides his fingers inside you effortlessly and you gasp, then grind on him immediately. He grins like a madman at your reaction and feels himself growing harder too. 

“Does sex with me make you feel dirty, like it did with her?” You ask him, the previous conversation making its comeback on your mind.

”Oh, Plum. Sex with you is the holiest thing I’ve ever done. Sex with her felt like a sin, but this? You said sex to you was like a naked handshake. You can’t go to hell for something like that. But for this? Plum, I’d go to hell for this, and still, I’d choose this on any fucking lifetime I get.”

You slam your lips to his, and there’s nothing kind, nothing polite, nothing romantic about it. Yet, it’s the most romantic kiss you’ve ever had. It’s frantic, and desperate and needy, and his fingers scissor inside you, stretching you as best and as quick as they can. He can’t wait to be inside you either. 

“That was poetry,” you tell him. “You just spoke in poetry. We had naked handshakes. Now we get this. We get naked poetry.” He sucks at your neck and you bloom even more open for him. “I’m going to make such good love to you that you won’t help writing fucking cheesy pop ballads about it.”

He laughed against you, the sound so beautiful you swore your heart could glow golden with joy. 

“Alright, bet.”

Navi: (comìng soon)

[absolutelynooneaskedforthis]

CLEAN

Trevor Zegras x reader

synopsis; reader has struggled with self harm since high school, and in the face of a relapse, Trevor supports them with everything he has. based off of the bridge mostly, the ten months sober, i must admit, just because your clean don’t mean you don’t miss it section specifically. fun fact. i cannot listen to this song without crying 💪😔

a/n; this is for all my bitches who have struggled with s/h in the past or are currently, i love you all and i’ve been there, it does get better. please tell someone. please at least find an outlet for that anger. it’s hard. please please please help yourself. you will thank yourself later for letting you find yourself.

warnings; self harm, mentions of trauma, daddy issues (same💪💪), mentions unsupportive family, established relationship, flashbacks are in italics unless it’s a highlighted word, y’all know how to read fics

HEY! IF YOU ARE DEALING WITH SOMETHING THAT INVOLVES SUICIDE OR SELF HARM PLEASE TALK TO SOMEONE ABOUT IT. I know it seems hard, but you will find help and hope. I love each and every one of you. i know where you are, and you will feel better once you tell someone trusted.

You don’t know what it was that brought you back to that day.

One second you were enjoying your boyfriend’s current hockey game, the next you were in the bathroom staring at yourself in the mirror. Waiting. For what, you didn’t know. Something. Anything. To set you off. To have it begin again. All the words. The scars.

The scars.

They were like physical reminders of all the things he used to say to you. All the “you’ll never be good enough”s and the “why are you the way you are?”s. Even the little things, anytime he told you to settle down, shut up, sit still. You used to bite your nails, but your dad thought that was an issue too.

“Stop chewing your nails, you look like a toddler. Immature and stupid. Wouldn’t be a stretch.” he mumbled the last part, but you heard. Loud and clear.

“I’m going to trevor’s.” You raced to the kitchen table to grab your bag and hurried to Trevor’s house.

You knocked on the door and texted him to let you in. It was around 8:00. You were 17.

He opened the door to see tears welling in your glassy eyes.

“What do you need?”

“Can I just, stay here? For the night?”

“Yeah, we were just about to watch a movie. I’ll ask my mom to let you choose.” He brought his arm over your shoulders and closed his front door.

“Hi cutie! Are you alright?” Julie brought her hand to your face in a greeting as you nodded as enthusiastically as you could.

“What did you want to watch?” she immediately caught Trevor’s gaze and grabbed the remote.

“Mamma Mia?” you suggested. It was summer and you had been aching for a Zegras family movie night.

Julie nodded curtly and selected the DVD from the shelf in their living room.

“Hey kiddo. Popcorn?” Gary sat down and passed you the bowl.

“Thank you, Mr. Trevor’s dad.” You’d called him that since you were little and you didn’t know his name. You practically inhaled the handful and turned to your left to see Ava and Griffin in the kitchen.

“Y/n!” Ava rushed to the couch and immediately wedged herself between you and Trevor. His hand still lingered behind you heads as he rubbed small circles into your shoulder.

That was before it all happened.

Every little comment was like a new open wound. A new knife to slice your self esteem. Everything made it so much worse.

Trevor knew about all of the shit your father put you through. He was always there. At school, when he let you stay the night, sneaking out to go get ice cream when either you or him were grounded, he was your person.

When he moved in with Jack, you moved with him, against your father’s wishes. He disowned you on your birthday over the phone, and Trevor and the Hughes were there for you.

All of this brought you back to your bathroom mirror, and the reflection staring through it.

You looked at your wrists and hands in the mirror. The lines. Creases of melancholy seared into your tired veins.

You glanced at your razor on the glass shelf next to the mirror.

Ten months sober, I must admit

Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it

“I’m home babe!” Trevor called to you from the kitchen, you were assuming.

How long had you been in here?

“Bathroom,” your voice tried to reach him, but failed as it cracked and turned thin.

Your frail voice must have given you away, as immediately after you heard fast footsteps up the hall as Trevor swung the door open, but not in a hurried manner. He examined the counter and you.

“Don’t do it. It’s not worth it, not after you’ve made this much progress.” He enveloped you in a hug and you couldn’t help but crumble into him. Your t-shirt slowly began creeping up as Trevor’s hands traced circles up your back.

“Why did he do it Trev? I haven’t spoken to the man in years and he still haunts me.”

“He’s not here, that’s all that matters. And i’m here, pretty girl. I’ve always got you.” he kissed the crook of your neck lightly as he tapped your hip to signal for you to stand up fully. His arms still wrapped around you, he whispered to the air between you,

“Jump.” but there was nothing romantic about his tone. He was ever sweet and caring in your moments of need.

You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you to your shared bedroom. He sat you down on the edge of the bed and nudged your arm up to help you take your tear stained shirt off.

There was nothing sexual about his actions, just you and him. In that moment. A necessary action for the both of you.

Once you were changed into a more comfortable shirt, and Trevor changed out of his game day suit, the two of you laid under the covers, holding each other in exhaustion and love. You had nothing but the latter for him. Love.

Ten months older, I won't give in

Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it

[stranger-marauders]

i could never let you go

chapter seven: i do, i do, i do, i do, i do mamma mia! au

chapter summary: The wedding is finally here, but you have something you need to tell Lena before you send her off.

chapter warnings: language probably, use of y/n probably, single mom things, alcohol consumption, marriage, daddy issues if you squint

word count: 1.8k

series masterlist | masterlist

As you and Lena entered the chapel, you felt everyone’s eyes on you and your daughter.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d actually gone to a wedding. It was most likely one of Robin’s, all of them taking place at the villa so you and Lena could be part of them somehow. You didn’t like walking down the aisle, everyone standing and watching you as you did so. By the time you got to the front of the altar, you stood with your daughter for a moment, kissing her on the cheek before taking your seat next to Robin and Nancy on the front pew.

The priest cleared his throat. “Please be seated. Welcome to Leo and Lena and to all of your friends who are gathered here on this day. And welcome especially to Y/N, who represents your family. Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today, in the sight of God—”

“And welcome to Lena’s dad,” you said, standing up. You looked to your daughter whenever she looked to you in fear. “I have to tell you. It isn’t fair to keep it from you any longer. He’s here.”

Whenever Steve, Jonathan, and Eddie all stood, everyone in the chapel gasped as Lena said, “I know.”

“What?”

“I invited him,” Lena explained nervously.

“But you can’t have! I don’t know which one of them it is.”

“Oh my God!” Nancy shouted.

Steve, Jonathan, and Eddie all sat back down, all looking to be somewhat embarrassed.

“That’s why they’re all here!” you said, everything starting to click together.

“Mom, I’m really, really sorry. Will you ever forgive me?”

“Oh, I don’t know, Lena,” you said, somewhat flustered. “Will you ever forgive me?”

“I don’t care if you’ve slept with hundreds of men!” 

With that, the priest gave you a funny look.

“You’re my mom!”

You almost sat back down in your seat without any further argument, but you stood back up. “Just for clarification, I have not slept with hundreds of men.”

The crowd laughed, and the priest prepared himself to begin again whenever Steve stood up, then walked toward the front of the altar, seeing somewhat pissed.

“All right, hold up a sec. Are you saying that I might be Lena’s dad, but it might be Jonathan, or even Eddie?”

“Exactly right, and you’ve only got yourself to blame,” you replied, standing back up.

“I what?”

“Yeah,” Lena said. “If you hadn’t dumped my mom and gone off and married someone else, none of this would’ve happened.”

“No, no, no, it wasn’t like that,” Steve said, defending himself. “I was engaged. I had to go home. I thought it was the right thing to do.”

Whenever he saw the confusion on your face, he knew that he finally had to come clean about what he’d done. He had to tell you about what he should have told you a long, long time ago.

“But I came back.”

“What?” you asked, incredulously.

“Yeah. I told Amy I couldn’t marry her, and I came straight back.”

“Well, why didn’t you call me?” you asked, somewhat annoyed.

“Because I was stupid enough to think that you might be sitting in your room still hung up on me,” he answered. “By the time I got here, people told me that you’d gone off with some other guy.”

Whenever Steve looked to Jonathan and Eddie, everyone in the chapel looked at both of them, which made both of them look away.

“So I went back to Amy, who told me what an idiot I was… and married me to prove it.”

With that, Eddie stood up. “I’m sorry. If… If I might just insert myself into this for a moment, there’s something—”

“Oh, Eddie, the check. I’m so sorry—”

“Oh, no. Keep that for a rainy day. It’s yours. I just wanted to say it’s great to even have a third of Lena. I never thought I’d ever get that much of a kid, you know?”

“Oh, Eddie,” you said softly. He was always one for kind words.

He took a deep breath. “Sweetheart, you were the first girl I ever loved. But you were, uh… you were also the last girl I ever loved.”

It didn’t take long for you to understand what he meant.

“It’s been kinda difficult for Joe and me to have kids for obvious reasons, so I would consider myself lucky to even be a third of a father to Lena.”

“He’s right,” Steve said. “We can find out if we want to, but I’m with Eddie. Being a third of your dad is enough for me.”

“Me too!”

With that, Steve, Jonathan, and Eddie all stood behind Leo, almost as if they were waiting for yours or Lena’s next move.

Robin turned to Nancy, almost amused. “Typical, isn’t it? Wait twenty years for a dad, and then three come along all at once.”

Lena looked at all three of her potential fathers fondly. “I don’t know which one of you is my dad, but I don’t mind.”

Never in her life did she ever think she would get to meet her father, but at this moment, she now had three men that would love her, no matter if she was truly theirs or not.

That was why she finally looked to Leo with her mind made. “I’ve learned something about myself, Leo. Let’s not get married.”

Everyone in the chapel gasped in response.

“I know you never wanted any of this, okay? I’ve got my entire life ahead of me. Let’s just get off this island and explore the world, just like you’ve always wanted.”

Leo smiled, almost as if he didn’t know what to say. “I love you.”

“I take it the wedding’s canceled?” the priest asked, looking at you.

You threw your hands up in surrender. “I have no idea what’s going on.”

“Wait, wait, wait, hold up a sec. Why waste a good wedding?” Steve asked, standing in front of you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, looking at him somewhat nervously.

“How about it, L/N? You’re gonna need somebody to boss around on this island of yours now that Lena’s gone.”

“Are you insane? I’m not a bigamist!”

“Neither am I,” Steve said, smiling. “Last time I checked, I’ve actually been divorced for—” he stopped to count the years out on his fingers— “about ten years ago now. I’ve loved you for just about half my life, Y/N, and ever since I got on this island, I’ve been dying to tell you how much I do.”

Everyone gasped once again whenever Steve got down on one knee, spreading his arms wide.

“Come on, Y/N! It’s only the rest of your life!” You didn’t quite know what to say to him.

Just before you’d come inside for the wedding, you had both, in so many words, told each other that you loved one another. You thought he was crazy for suggesting something like this, mostly because up until yesterday you didn’t have any intent to ever see him again. Something about the gesture, though, made your heart flutter. You didn’t know if you would be able to survive turning him down.

“Come on, Y/N! You know you love me. Don’t deny it. Let’s just try it out, all right?”

“Say I do!” Robin said, shaking you slightly.

Whenever you finally came to, you blurted out, “I do!”

Steve took your hand, standing back up from the ground. Whenever he grasped your other hand, he pulled you into a kiss.

Kissing him was almost the same as it was twenty-one years ago, but something about it now felt different. Even though you now, apparently, did have the rest of your lives, it was like something within him was absolutely horrified that he would never get to kiss you again. It was almost like it was all those nights ago: he didn’t want to let you go.

With that, the wedding resumed, except instead of your daughter getting married, you were now marrying the love of your life.

The decorations around the reception area still had Leo and Lena’s names all over them.

Even if the decorations didn’t quite seem to match the new bride and groom, you and Steve didn’t mind. The reception was still a joyous occasion.

“To the woman I’ve always loved,” Steve said, holding up his glass of champagne as he made a toast. “I thank her for finally taking a real chance on me.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “Sit down, Harrington. You’re making a fool out of yourself.”

Whenever he sat back down next to you, he said, “I made a fool out of myself whenever I got down on one knee in that chapel.”

“Yeah, you did.”

On the other side of the reception, Nancy and Jonathan sat next to one another.

“I’ve gotta be honest with you, weddings make me sick,” Jonathan said, taking a sip of his drink. “Even whenever Lena asked me to walk her down the aisle, I thought I was gonna pass out.”

Nancy giggled. “Tell me about it.”

“All of it just seems too… too much, you know? I’m a photographer. I’ve worked on my own schedule for over twenty years. I don’t have any intent to stop that now.”

Nancy laughed nervously. “You know, if you ever, uh… change your mind, I’d be there.”

“Yeah?” Jonathan asked, almost not believing what he was hearing.

“Yeah. I’m a writer, too, so I get being on your own schedule. Maybe we could, uh… Maybe we could make something work.”

He nodded, smiling. “I think I’d like that.”

Love seemed to hang around on the island, even whenever the night began to come to an end. Leo and Lena’s bags were already packed, but now that they weren’t getting married, you had no idea when you would see your daughter next. As you watched them put their luggage on the boat now, ready to arrive on the mainland to start their journey through life together, you thought it was all bittersweet.

“I’d never let anything happen to her,” he replied, letting go of you so he could continue putting their bags on the boat.

“And you keep him out of trouble,” you said, looking at your daughter somewhat sternly.

Without another word, Lena quickly pulled you into the tightest hug you thought you’d ever experienced, then she let go to look at you again.

“I’m gonna miss you, Mom.”

“No, you won’t. You’re going to have the time of your life, my love,” you said softly as you smiled. “It’s a big world out there. Go experience it.”

She nodded, waving to everyone as Leo helped her into the boat. As they sailed away to shore, everyone cheered for them, only watching them as they disappeared into the night.

[pjohoo-reclists]

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson Fic Recs

A list of fics where Percy and Sally's relationship is centric in the story. Enjoy!

Words of Affirmation by punkfistfights

G | 900 words | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Grover Underwood, Percy Jackson & Annabeth Chase

Past/Implied Child Abuse, Fluff, Words of Affirmation

“Actions don’t always speak louder than words.” How the three people closest to Percy made sure he knew they loved him.

A Mother's Hope by IzzyMRDB 

T | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

AU - Canon Divergence, BAMF Sally Jackson, Fix-it of Sorts

Sally Jackson doesn't pray that her plan works, no, that'll catch Their attention, but she does hope. Hope that her son is safe. After all, she is doing all of this for her son. For Percy.

Home for the Holidays by hopecanbeyoursword

G | 1.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Sally Jackson/Paul Blofis

Christmas Fluff, Family Feels, Future Fic, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent

It's been ten years since Percy was thrown into the demigod world, and he's content in spending it with his family, thankful he's going to have a happy ending.

Home, alive -That's all matters. by TheSkyAtMidnight

T | 1.3k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Paul Blofis

Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Sally and Paul are good parents

A 'Percy comes home to Sally after the Giant War' fic.

Half-Blood of the Eldest Gods by wearethewitches

T | 1.7k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Sally Jackson/Poseidon, Sally Jackson/Hades, Sally Jackson/Zeus

Crack treated seriously, Parent-Child Relationship, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent

A Mamma Mia! AU, where Sally got busy back in the era of her son's conception. aka, the how (they're gods), who (the gods) and why (heartbreak) Percy Jackson has three fathers.

Imprisonment by DancingInTheSliverGlow 

T | 1.9k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Poseidon, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

Domestic Fluff, Post Tartarus, Angst with a Happy Ending

After the Giant War, Percy's life is looking up. His relationship with Annabeth is strong as ever. Poseidon regularly invites him down to Atlantis to spend time with him and Tyson. The greek and roman have resolved most of their issues. Grover is starting his life's calling as Lord of the Wild. Paul helps Percy get his drivers license, and Percy helps his mom paint a room for his soon to be little sister. Everything is perfect. That is, until someone abducts Percy.

(i) missed call by achievingelysium

T | 2.5k | Complete

Sally Jackson & Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Sally Jackson/Paul Blofis

Canon Compliant, Post The Heroes of Olympus, Hurt/Comfort, Family

From a dead letter lost in the mail, addressed to PERCY JACKSON, sent by SALLY JACKSON: Dear Percy, Please come home— After Sally Jackson’s son disappears, messages begin to appear.

Baby Blofis College Fund by zipadeea

T | 2.9k | Complete

Sally Jackson/Paul Blofis, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Sally Jackson & Poseidon

Fluff and Humor, Family Feels, Pregnancy

Valerie calls her an hour later. “Sally, what the hell?” “That bad, huh?” “Bad? Sally, it’s gold. I went from squirming in my seat to crying genuine tears. And that twist, making him a Greek god, it’s exactly what we’re looking for right now. How soon can you get me the next chapter?” *** In which Sally Jackson realizes by the time the new baby is eighteen, a semester of college will cost an arm and a leg. And those Fifty Shades of Grey books sure did make a lot of money.

agape by livingonthestars

T | 3.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

Child Percy Jackson, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

Percy nods amiably, then he takes another bite of the sandwich, and while he munches he says, “Oh, and I also met some weird guy back at the park. He was alright I guess, but he kept calling me Poseidon as if that was my name.” Sally chokes on absolutely nothing immediately, because what?

this home is home, and all that i need by rabbit_soup

G | 3.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Paul Blofis

Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hopeful Ending

The only real difference in this hallway, in this building, is Percy. He’s taller than the door’s peephole now, when he used to have to jump up on his toes to see through it. It’s small. It’s so small. It’s such a pointless detail, but Percy knows he doesn’t belong anymore. ___ AKA: Percy goes home.

Some Parts of Life by orphan account

T | 3.2k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Sally Jackson & Poseidon, Sally Jackson & Paul Blofis

Hurt/Comfort, Family Fluff, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent, Poseidon is a Good Parent, Post-Tartarus

Percy's finally returned home to Sally but the ghosts and memories of Tartarus and the war still haunt him.

Achilles Come Down by joverton707

T | 3.5k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Percy Jackson Needs a Hug, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse

After Percy’s mental breakdown that leads to him having a cry for help, Percy and Sally have a much needed talk about their past trauma with Gabe and how secrets they kept from each other has lead them with a crack in their relationship.

a word that sometimes you cannot say by Lleavingwonderland 

T | 4.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Hurt/Comfort, Happy Ending, Fix it

"He wants to have words that make this all ok. He wants to be able to tell her with a clear conscience that he was saving the world, out on hero business. That somehow it was worth it. But it wasn’t. He had been carrying the burden of the world since he was twelve years old. He was tired. And he was hurt. It’s not ok. “Mom…” He runs a calloused hand over the tears on his cheek, and into his unruly hair. “Can you come get me? I want…I’m ready to come home.”" or the Percy & Sally reunion that we were so cruelly denied at the end of HoO Part 1 of a word that sometimes you cannot say

my love isn't lost; it's all i got by Lleavingwonderland

T | 4.0k | Complete

Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase, Sally Jackson & Annabeth Chase, Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

Sally's POV, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort

""And so Sally’s heart, already wrung out with ache for Percy, made more room to ache for Annabeth. She was also acutely aware that Annabeth didn’t have a mother to ache for her and smooth her hair while she rode out a panic attack. “Annabeth,” Sally said, extending her arms for Annabeth to walk into, which she did. Sally pulled her close, cradling her shoulder and her head and said to her quietly, “Thank you for bringing him home.” “I said I would,” Annabeth whispered back."" or Sally reflects on Annabeth and Percy now that they're both home safe. Part 3 of a word that sometimes you cannot say

A Good Run Of Bad Luck by furnaceglow

G | 4.7k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Sally Jackson & Apollo

baby Jackson, Sally and Apollo: the brotp you didn't know you needed

Contrary to popular belief: the gods have been immeasurably kind to Sally Jackson.

Que Sera, Sera by lesbabeths (nixy_stix)

G | 5.3k | Complete

Sally Jackson & Percy Jackson

mentions of abuse, parenting, childhood, reunion, motherhood

He's a foot taller than her now, but he'll always be her baby.

Awake, Awake, You Children Bold by mrthology

T | 10k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

Family Feels, Mother-Son Relationship, Single Parents, Hurt Percy Jackson

Sally smiled up at Poseidon, meeting his eyes, sea-green shot through with gold. She wondered if their son would inherit the same otherworldly gaze. "If my life is going to mean anything, I have to live it myself," she insisted. "Trust me." "I do," he whispered. Then, "I must leave you," he continued, putting one hand on her stomach. "Take care." Sally closed her eyes, unwilling to watch her lover disappear for what she knew would be the last time. "You and me, kid," she murmured. "We can do this." — Or, Sally and Percy throughout the years, for better or for worse.

Percy Jackson, son of Sally Jackson by IzzyMRDB 

T | 19k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

BAMF Sally Jackson, AU - Canon Divergence, Book 4: The Battle of the Labyrinth

But we needed the help of a clear-sighted mortal to lead us through the Labyrinth and there’s nobody else we knew of that would agree to. Other than my mom - Sally Jackson.

Green Stick by tooyoungtobesostressed

T | 30k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson

Child Abuse, Sally Jackson is a Good Parent, Protective Sally Jackson

Sally Jackson learned how to do makeup to protect her son. Little does she know, he is learning to do the same thing for her.

Rhyme, Don't Repeat by InquiringMinds

G | 52k | Complete

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Percy Jackson & Medusa, Sally Jackson & Medusa

Parental Bonding, Time Travel, Sibling Bonding

Percy is suddenly 12 again, and with all of the lessons learned in the years he's suddenly lost he decides to make a better world, earlier and hopefully with fewer challenges and immortal demands. Featuring parental bonding, actual childhoods instead of training for your life, and monsters that really aren't that bad, just misunderstood. Also a cross country road trip!

Just Add Water by seasunwrites

T | 58k+ | Ongoing as of 11/9/21

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Sally Jackson/Poseidon, Percy Jackson/Annabeth Chase

Camp Half Blood, AU - Canon Divergence, Powerful Percy Jackson

“Don’t you feel it, Sal?” he said, pulling her closer. She looked up at him and met his eyes. “What?” “The sea,” Poseidon explained. “It rises with the moon. Over and over. One of the only sureties in this world. Over and over, the tide will rise.” Sally gave him a funny look. “Well, of course I know about the tides and that it’s a full moon—” “Yes, but do you feel it?” . It's strange, how you add a bit of water and suddenly...Percy isn't human anymore.

The Blue Food Project by liketolaugh

T | 83k+ | Ongoing as of 21/8/23

Percy Jackson & Sally Jackson, Sally Jackson/Froggy Nelson (Daredevil TV), Percy Jackson & Foggy Nelson, Avengers Team & Percy Jackson

Percy Jackson Needs a Hug, Abused Percy Jackson, Percy Jackson is a Mama's boy, Second Titan War

Foggy meets Sally in a grocery store, sees the three bottles of food coloring in her cart, and listens to her talk about how much her son loves it for about ten minutes before he decides he's in love. About four months later, Natasha drops by the Jacksons' apartment to take her first close look at the child that heralds the realization of the Great Prophecy. He looks small, for the end of the world.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

helloo I'm back!!!!!! im so sorry I've been gone, it's ramadan right now and i can't be reading smut or anything like that, plus my exams are coming up and it's my final year in school so i can't mess this up. I've had ALOT of thoughts lately that no sane person in my circle can handle but i know you will. what do you think about a mamma mia typa situation in Greece with bucky (my feelings for him have resurfaced recently), tangerine and pietro? three very different people and one of them is the father (and one of them is gay bahahahaha). like reader meets pietro, then tangerine, then bucky (i know you'd be rooting for tangerine) then she has a kid and they all left her so she doesn't know who's the dad but then years later they all come back into her life and BAM her daughter should know and everything is all over the place. bonus points if reader sings at least 5 abba songs. obv you don't take requests and this isn't one but share your thoughts with me on this since im a bit of a scatter head and my new personality is donna sheridan so... yeah. love you and hope you're much better now 💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

- 🦢

angelface!! omg hii hi!! firstly, ramadan mubarak to you, hope you’re doing good!! good luck for all your exams too, I believe in you!! be sure to take care of yourself😽

so…!! I read this as soon as I received it but couldn’t reply straight away and this has been ruminating on my mind!! IDEAS HAVE BEEN MARINATING BC I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS!!! and you calling me insane?? 😧😧 (kidding, but exactly that, same with me. no one would understand my brain rot except you guys. so we all in the same boat my pal)

I go through my bucky phases very often, and rn im in a deep one😭😭😭 usually I would go with tan no question, but now im not so sure (reckon tan would be the gay one???😭 but for the sake of this gonna say he’s not)

pietro: maybe you meet him when you’re travelling, maybe backpacking through europe with a group of strangers (guess who is in your group…😏) perhaps get close with pietro and have a summer fling. maybe exchange info towards the end of the trip, but both know it’s not going to work or go any further than a fling. might lose contact—but a message here and there

tangerine: next stop on your travels is england. not backpacking anymore, so it’s a standard holiday/ vacation (idk the logistics, so you have your stuff mailed over?? or go home for a few days and continue your travels??) but you decide to go sightseeing and find yourself in a pub. maybe it’s really busy so the table you had to yourself becomes one you share with 2 guys (can you guess who?) one of them goes off to play pool so the other gets left behind with you (can you guess who? see where this is going?) you two talk casually for a bit, you mention where you’re staying and what you’re doing in town (DO NOT DO THAT IRL !!) maybe you go back to your hotel room and he leaves early the next morning. would leave his name and his number on a piece of paper?? but you never see it bc it gets knocked off and falls under the bed and cleaned up by housekeeping the next day

bucky: would be several days after meeting tan and you’d be in the hotel lobby trying to work over some issues with card payments?? maybe there’s been an issue in their system so you’ve been hanging around the lobby/ reception a lot while they try to sort it. someone would come up beside you (have a guess who) and he’d ask you if everything was okay bc he’s seen you down here constantly for last couple days. he’d ask if there was anything he could do, then segues into asking you out tonight for dinner. he’s here for work so his schedule isn’t flexible and tonight is the only time available. you agree and would have a really lovely date, seal the deal later that night. and when you go up to his hotel room the next day, he won’t be in there. he didn’t know your room number, so he left his contact info at reception for them to give to you, but they never give it/ staff changes over so

kinda broke my heart with the tan and bucky one 😭😭😭

no idea if these make any sense. I write these as I think of the words, so essentially im just rambling in my brain and I type it out simultaneously. talking shit in other words😭 omg why does this make me want to do a 3 part series of their individual stories!!? (I know I won’t be able to do that, but man I wish I could)

love you and I am doing better now, thank you bby. sending love 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

[hollow-keys]

I saw Wonder Woman #2 today and I decided to read it out of morbid curiousity, so mamma mia, here we go again:

I read Tom King's Wonder Woman so you don't have to, round two (link to round one here).

First off, framing. Yet again, this issue is narrated by the Sovereign, but this time it's narrated to someone. And that someone is Trinity, Diana's daughter that Tom King created. She gets no lines and she doesn't appear on panel, but given the Sovereign refers to Diana as "your mother," there's only one character it could be. First of all, this is Diana's book, it should be told from her perspective. We get no insight from her, nothing from her perspective, she shows even less emotion than in the last issue. This is not the treatment Tom King gave Batman. Second, I do not care about the OC daughter. I do not want to hear about her.

But on to the actual story. So, it starts with Diana on an open field being approached by Steve Trevor, who is acting on behalf of the US government and is telling her to stand down because she can't win.

Look, I didn't think I'd ever complain about Steve Trevor, incredibly basic WW supporting character, being mischaracterised but. Isn't he meant Wonder Woman's staunch friend who pretty much always takes her side? Hasn't he seen Diana in enough battles to know she doesn't just lose? She's fought gods, armies from outer space, the forces of Apokolips, why does he think the US army is beyond her? He's underestimating her for no reason.

And more importantly, because she is the title character, why doesn't Diana seem to care that her long time ally is being a coward?

And why does Diana care about the soldiers wellbeing at this point? Why is she trying to get them to go home with no consequence and no hint of anger about how her or her fellow Amazons have been treated when they've already made their stance quite clear? People are dead! They've already made their decision, you already tried to extend them mercy. Now you fight. The thing about Diana is that mercy is always her first port of call, but when the other side has made their choice she meets them and she does have anger about the injustices they've committed. Here, she just doesn't seem to care.

Also, Diana's nihilism about the ways of men, that they will always "crash upon the rocks" is at odds with her optimism. She knows that humanity contains multitudes, some crash, some don't.

Anyway, the whole issue parallels her fight against the army with flashbacks to her final fight on Themyscira to prove herself worthy of being the Amazon's champion and Wonder Woman. This parallel makes no sense to me. Those fights were completely different.

One is against an army to defend herself and her people from enemies who want them dead, the other is against an ally in a tournament, a battle where no one's in real danger. Or at least, that's how it should be. Usually when this moment is shown, it's a good faith tournament to find out who the most qualified person to serve as champion is, they're all allies who respect each other. Here, the opponent is shown to be hateful towards Diana, genuinely seriously injure her and there's no sense of camaraderie between them.

While Diana and her opponent are trading barbs before their fight, the other Amazon gives her a chance to surrender. Diana responds "Honour is won with swords, not surrender," which is incredibly out of character for her. Yes, there are cases where Diana would consider surrender dishonourable, but it's not an absolute rule. She believes in compassion and peace, which means surrender is sometimes the right course of action. The framing of it as an absolute here does a disservice to her.

Steve Trevor would not fucking say that, Amazons do not fucking act like that and the last panel makes no sense. It's said by present Diana but only makes sense as a continuation of past Diana's sentence. present WW just said "To tell me who I am." with no words before that. To parallel these conversations, present Diana talking to Steve would have had to have said "Neither you nor anyone else has ever earned the right..." in the fifth panel so the seventh panel made sense for both sides. The composition here was thoughtless. Yes this is a nitpick, but details matter. Where are the editors? Sidenote: her mask is ugly.

Anyway, then we get these choice narration boxes from the Sovereign.

It's just. So bad. I want to make it clear that at no point is the Sovereign framed as an unreliable narrator, despite being the villain who's diametrically opposed to Diana. This just appears to be, Tom King's genuine take on things. I would ask if he understands that you cannot believe in peace and do nothing in the face of violent status quo, but I don't have to. Of course he doesn't. And of course he calls her an idiot while he's at it. Remind me, did he ever call Batman anything like that?

We then get more pathetic "Of course I want Diana to win, I'm still gonna serve with her enemies though" Steve Trevor. I should make it clear tho that he's not actually fighting against her, he's just watching the fight and updating Sargeant Steel.

Anyway, then we get a bit of narration that says:

"Infantry. Be it conscripts or... Well it's always just conscripts. If you can't do it from afar...Or with haste... Then get the grunts to rush in close and kill and die in what you will tell their children was a patriotic mission."

Tom King, stop processing your war trauma here. Any one of these soldiers could have stood down, they chose to enforce a genocidal policy. It's on them. Stop framing them as victims who were taken advantage of, they're grown adults who chose to be there.

Anyway. Another caption box from the still-inexplicably-narrating-this Sovereign:

"...And prepared to meet the onslaught of angry men with the grace of a princess born and proven."

I ask this again, did he ever treat Batman like this? Does he ever emphasise Batman's grace and frame him as being above anger? Why does Diana need to be like this?

And now for an unnecessary Macbeth reference.

"For some time the missiles rained down. No man of woman born could have survived such a salvo. But of course. She was neither a man nor born of woman. She was Amazon. Forged first of clay. Then steel."

I don't think this reference makes sense considering the line in Macbeth is a prophecy, a warning that Macbeth missed. But here it's a measure of power. She's powerful enough because she's not a man of woman born, which makes no sense because that has nothing to do with power. I'm nitpicking. Again. I know. But the Macbeth reference is such a shallow attempt at being badass. And as a sidenote, it should say "She was AN Amazon."

"Potty train." "A pup." God this dialogue is so bad. Amazons do not fucking speak like that.

Then Diana smashes a tank with another tank and there are cartoon stars on the impact sight. This is meant to be a serious battle, why are they there?

"Many people lie about your mother. About her family, her origins, her abilities, her wants her needs. Every tale of the great Wonder Woman provides us with more insight into the teller than into their supposed protagonist. They faithfully project their own fears onto her with the aspiration that her legend can ease their daily panic."

So close to self awareness and yet so far. It's so ironic.

"Men in the field, I admire your courage! I honor your service and your loyalty! I do not wish to harm you! But if you proceed... I will... Over and over... Drop a 55-ton abrams tank on your pathetic little heads!"

Again, why does she not seem to care about the violence they've committed against her and her people? Why does she continue to respect them and wish no harm upon them? Where's her sadness, her righteous fury? And the bit where she says she'll drop a tank on their "pathetic little heads" is so out of character and it's such bad dialogue. When Diana makes threats, it's not like that.

Anyway, y'know the flashback fight? Yeah, well, the issue ends with the reveal that her opponent is the Amazon that committed the massacre which kick started this whole thing, which is such a cheap retcon it makes me roll my eyes.

After all this, I think I put more thought into this post than Tom King puts into any of his writing. I hope the next issue isn't bad enough that it inspires me to do this again. I'm tired.

[bambirex]

It's A Game We Play: Chapter 4

Pairings: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Radovid, original female characters, Essi Daven, Priscilla, Ciri of Cintra, Valdo Marx

Additional tags: inspired by Mamma Mia! (movies,), crack, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, omega jaskier, alpha geralt, alpha yennefer, beta radovid, awkwardness, jaskier is a good parent, protective jaskier, weddings, found family, post mpreg, fluff and humor, alternate universe- modern setting, jaskier is having the worst time of his life, valdo is here to make everything worse, confusion, banter

Rating: teen and up audiences

Full word count: 10,713 words

Chapter word count: 3,324 words

Chapters: 4/?

Summary: Jaskier's daughter is about to marry the love of her life, and she decides she wants both her parents at her wedding. Only problem is that Jaskier has slept with a little too many people in his youth, so the identity of the other parent is a mystery. That does not stop the bride-to-be from inviting three potential daddy candidates and unleashing absolute chaos in the process.

*

Otherwise known as Jaskier's terrible horrible no good past decisions leading to terrible horrible no good outcomes. Also known as the Mamma Mia! AU nobody asked for, but I wrote it anyway.

Chapter summary: Running into familiar, unwanted faces and meeting weirdly eager strangers.

Author's notes: Chapter title speaks for itself, since this question will pop up during this chapter many times. I liked the suggestions in my comment section about Geralt, Yennefer and Radovid knowing each other so much, that I decided to work that in, thanks for the idea!!!! I am also bringing you all a beloved beloathed character, and Amaryllis's big meeting with the "daddies" as well.

Read on Ao3

*

If someone told Yennefer just a week prior that she would literally drop everything and get herself an emergency sabbatical from the bistro, and she would force herself through a nearly four hours long ferry ride, all because she received a mysterious letter from someone she's slept with twenty years ago, she would've called them a fucking moron.

Yet, there she was, staring at the waves licking the side of the ferry as they made their way over the sea. Yennefer put her elbows on the railing with a deep sigh. She closed her eyes as she breathed in the salty air. Twenty years ago, she was traveling across the sea just like she was doing it now, full of youthful energy and hope. She had none of that now. She was just anxious as all hell, because seriously, what could Jaskier possibly want from her? How was she even supposed to react when she saw him standing on the docks, waiting for her? How was she supposed to greet him, what should she ask? How was she supposed to cope with the fact that she had to face someone like that from her past?

"Yennefer?"

As Yennefer turned around fast, the wind blew all of her hair into her face. She cursed and sputtered as she tried her best to remove it from her mouth and eyes.

When she finally came face to face with the person who called out for her, Yennefer suddenly felt the urge to throw herself off the ferry and into the water.

“Geralt,” she hissed, her eyes widening, “what the fuck are you doing here?”

Geralt cleared his throat awkwardly, a habit that he seemed to never have abandoned since Yennefer last saw him. Her and Geralt had dated about ten years ago, and for a while, Yennefer was convinced that maybe he could be the one. She was wrong, like she always was, about every person she dated. Geralt wasn’t a bad person, not by any means, and Yennefer did love him. But maybe two Alphas were just never meant to work out; their too similar personalities soon led to constant fighting, which lead to a not very nice breakup, during which Yennefer told Geralt he was a ball-less coward who really needed to get off his high horse, and Geralt called Yennefer a control freak with anger issues.

And now, to make this already weird and frustrating situation ever worse, here he was, staring at Yennefer with that constipated look on his face.

“It’s nice to see you too, Yen,” Geralt grumbled, arms crossed over his chest. Yennefer scoffed.

“Don’t call me that.”

“I was hoping we could have a civil conversation, but clearly, I was wrong. I just wanted to say hello.”

“Okay, you did. Goodbye.”

“Yennefer,” Geralt sighed, “let’s not be childish, okay?”

Yennefer gripped the railing again to stop herself from committing a crime that would’ve earned her a life sentence.

“Oh, yeah, says the man who’s allergic to commitment, and drops everyone like a hot potato the second things turn serious!”

“Yeah, because you handled everything so maturely,” Geralt growled, “you were only looking for flaws in everything, of course you found them!”

“Did you come here to antagonize me?” Yennefer spat. “You should have just ignored me.”

Geralt deflated at that, somewhat. There was a small, barely-there smile at the corner of his lips. Yennefer hated to admit, but it was still stupidly attractive.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Geralt said, his voice much softer. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Same. So, what are you doing here, Geralt?”

Before Geralt could answer, a teenage girl rushed over to them, knocking into Geralt so hard it looked painful. Her ashen blonde hair was mussed from the wind, and her grin was mischievous.

“Dad,” she called out with a giggle, and Yennefer’s eyebrows shot up to her hairline. Dad!?

“I’m gonna drive a Bentley!”

“What?” Geralt turned to her with utter confusion. Yennefer was pretty sure she was going to pass out and into the sea.

“I never said that you could drive it!” Came a voice from behind the cackling girl. “I just said that you could see it if we reached land!”

A tall man with long, reddish-blond hair approached them with a huff. He looked utterly miserable, which might have had something to do with the seagull shit that covered the shoulder of his clearly expensive silk shirt. He looked familiar. Yennefer narrowed her eyes as she stared at him, trying to figure out where she knew him from.

Geralt blinked at the man with a similarly confused expression. “I’m sorry, do you know my daughter that you’re offering her a car show, or should I call the police?”

“Did you just accuse me of… rude!” The man huffed. “She walked up to me and asked me if the Bentley was mine! I wasn’t gonna send her away!”

“It’s a nice car,” the girl chirped, seemingly uncaring of the adults’ impending brawl. “Can I get a driving license, Dad? I’ve driven your car before, I’d do good!”

“I’m sorry,” Yennefer interrupted them, “Geralt? She’s you daughter?”

Geralt gave her a wounded look. “Yennefer… she’s Ciri. My daughter.”

Yennefer opened her mouth then quickly shut it again before she said something that wasn’t meant to be heard by a child. Geralt used to insist he could never have a family of his own. That he would be a shit dad, and children were too much hassle. He clearly found Yennefer’s desire for kids weird and unnecessary. And here he was, with a kid- a kid that was clearly a teenager. Holy shit, he had a kid while he dated her, he must have had a partner he cheated on with Yennefer, then. He made her into a homewrecker. Yennefer was going to kill someone today.

Ciri nodded towards her with a grin. “Nice to meet you! I like your dress!”

“Thanks…”

“Wait,” the blond guy turned towards Yennefer, “I know you!”

Oh, no. Now that Yennefer took one more look at him, it became obvious where she met him. It was the evening she officially ruined her career as a chef, and she was pretty much exiled to cook at a cheap bistro. She had to cater at some expensive business party, and she was so nervous around all the stuck-up suits, that she messed up the meal, big time. And that guy was there, his stubble was a little thinner and his eyes were a lot less stern back then, but Yennefer recognized him. He was the first to spit out her stew, which then drew attention to the mistake she’s made.

“You put sugar in the stew instead of salt,” the guy said, “it tasted like cake smothered in grease.”

“It wasn’t as bad as you all claimed!” Yennefer snapped. “But your spoiled ass had to make such a frenzy about it! You’re the reason I’m still cooking at a shithole bistro!”

“Oh, thank the stars, that’s better for everyone.”

“Wait,” Geralt said, cutting off the mighty string of curses Yennefer was about to throw. “I know you, too. You have that company. And a tarantula.”

“Huh?” The man turned to Geralt. His eyes widened. “Oh, wait, I remember you too! We met at the vet. Your foal tried to eat my shirt and it also jumped out of your hands and started wreaking havoc in the waiting room!”

“And you were so convinced that your tarantula was more important than my sick horse that you ran in before me! It probably wasn’t even sick, you just didn’t know how to take care of an animal properly.”

“You leave Franz Joseph out of this!” The man yelled, pointing a finger at Geralt’s chest. “He was very sick!”

“Who’s Franz Joseph?” Ciri whispered to Yennefer. Yennefer shook her head, which was quickly growing dizzy.

“Okay, alright,” Geralt sighed deeply. “Your pet has nothing to do with your own arrogance. How’s, uh, Franz Joseph, by the way?”

“He’s dead.”

“Shit. Sorry about that.”

“Alright, will anyone tell me what the fuck is going on?” Yennefer huffed. “Geralt, have you had a kid all along? While you were dating me? Was that why you said you could never have one with me?”

“Maybe not in front of Ciri,” Geralt tried. Ciri narrowed her eyes at him.

“You two dated?”

Geralt released a long-suffering, deep sigh. “Yeah. Some time ago. Yennefer, I adopted Ciri four years ago. She is my daughter, but we haven’t met while we were together. Okay?”

“Okay, and why are you headed to Thanedd?”

“Why are you?”

“I… I got a letter from someone, it’s an emergency, or whatever, I had to drop everything at home, I’m really fed up already, and you are not helping!”

“What,” Geralt’s voice wavered slightly, “a letter? You too?”

“A hand-written letter?” The other guy chimed in, his face turning pale. “From someone on Thanedd? About… a life and death situation?”

“Yes?”

“Who wrote to you,” Geralt asked, his eyes widening with panic, which made Yennefer’s nerves even worse. Yennefer grabbed the railing again, this time to not faint.

“An old love… I mean, someone I knew. Is this an interrogation?”

“You started it,” rich guy reminded her. “And this someone, who sent you a letter… he’s not called Jaskier, by chance?”

“How do you know him,” Geralt growled dangerously as he turned towards the other man. They were about the same height, but he still seemed to tower over him. Yennefer could feel the angry Alpha pheromones oozing off him. It made her feel even more snappish, not to mention that possessive flare upon hearing someone else knowing Jaskier. Her Jaskier.

“Control yourself,” the man warned him, “your child is standing right there next to you.”

“Don’t bring me into this!” Ciri huffed, crossing her arms over her chest in a way that was so similar to Geralt’s. “I have zero idea what’s going on, I’m just enjoying the free show.”

“Why would Jaskier write to you,” Geralt continued, lowering his voice slightly. “Who are you to him…?”

“Radovid,” the guy helped him out with a sigh. His eyes narrowed to slits. “And how do you know him?”

“He wrote to all of us!?” Yennefer asked in horror. “What… why the fuck would he do that?”

They all stared at each other. Geralt chewed on his lip, his brows furrowed in distress. Radovid stared at his feet, stiff like a statue. Ciri looked from one to the other, both confused and clearly entertained by the mess she ended up in the middle of.

Yennefer turned back towards the sea and groaned. It wasn’t enough that she had to worry about what Jaskier needed of her after all this time, now she had to face the fact that her ex, and a random guy was also here, and they all got the same letter, apparently.

She really should have thrown that letter away.

--

Probably everyone thought Amaryllis was insane, what with the way she was pacing up and down on the docks, muttering to herself to calm her nerves. She couldn’t possibly know if her plan worked at all. There was a chance their address changed, and none of them received her letter, or if they did, they could have just ignored it. After all, twenty years have passed since then, what were the odds they would leave their homes so abruptly to come see Jaskier?

Amaryllis could only hope that her Papa left a mark on them deep enough that they would want to find out what he (well, Amaryllis) wanted. She knew her father was a remarkable and loveable guy, but she didn’t know how the other three were. She could only go off on the descriptions in the diary, hence why she was nervous if she would recognize them at all.

By the time the ferry arrived, Amaryllis was a hair’s breadth away from passing out. She watched the cars roll down, then the people walk off, her heart beating at an abnormal speed all the while. What was the chance she would get a heart attack right now? She pressed her fingers against her neck to feel her pulse. Oh, God, she was going to explode from anxiety.

Amaryllis craned her neck to see over the crowd that milled around the docks, trying to find faces similar to the descriptions. She really did hope no one went through a drastic style change that made them look entirely different.

The crowd cleared a little, and Amaryllis noticed a shiny white car- a Bentley.

He is literally blonde Prince Charming, not on a white horse, but in a white Bentley.

Amaryllis’s breath hitched in her throat as she approached the car slowly, her palms growing clammy with sweat. What were the chances the car was the same, that it was Radovid’s?

Once she reached the car, she was greeted with a girl somewhat younger than her, who grinned at her brightly.

“Nice car, isn’t it?” She asked proudly. “It’s mine!”

“No, it isn’t… whatever. Let the kids have fun.”

Amaryllis turned towards the voice. She gasped at the sight of a tall, lean man, with blond hair, dressed in expensive clothes there were only somewhat dulled by the smear that suspiciously looked like bird poop. It had to be him.

“Radovid,” Amaryllis breathed out. The man’s eyes widened comically.

“Do we know each other?”

“It’s you…”

“I’m sorry, how do you…?”

Amaryllis wobbled on her feet when a broad, white-haired man stood next to the teenage girl who declared Radovid’s car her own.

“Geralt…?”

“What? How do you know my name?”

“Okay, I genuinely don’t know what’s going on, but…”

Amaryllis turned towards the female voice, and yes, indeed, there was Yennefer. She couldn’t believe her luck.

“Yennefer,” she whispered, causing the woman to stare at her like she just massacred her entire family.

“Do you know my name too?” The young girl laughed. Amaryllis sent her an apologetic smile.

“Alright, this is strange,” Geralt noted, “how do you know us?”

“I… huh. Lord. This is weird, I know. Bear with me, okay?” Amaryllis bit her lip, trying to hold back an excited squeal. “My name is Amaryllis Pankratz.”

“Pankratz!?” They all yelled in unison. Amaryllis grinned. They remembered her Papa.

“Yes. I’m Jaskier’s daughter.”

She had never seen faces turn so white all at once. Geralt practically wasn’t even breathing. Radovid closed his eyes. Yennefer’s jaw literally dropped. The teenage girl grinned in delight.

“Jaskier has a daughter,” Yennefer whispered. She looked Amaryllis up and down, recognition lighting up in her eyes. “Shit. You look just like him. I should have known.”

“Yeah, do you know how many times I got the ‘oh, did Jaskier went back in time and turned into a girl’ joke?” Amaryllis chuckled. She swallowed in embarrassment when no one laughed. “Erm…so, yeah, Jaskier is my father. And I know you guys all know him, and I know you don’t know me, but… ugh, this is difficult! We gotta get to know each other a little better before my wedding.”

“Before the what?” Geralt asked. Amaryllis chuckled nervously.

“Yeah, so I’m getting married and I kinda need one of you to be at the wedding, but first I need to figure out which one of you should be there, because I think one of you is… shit!”

Amaryllis turned pale when she spotted Jaskier in the distance. He was luckily not facing them as he was walking towards the market, but she couldn’t risk him seeing his old lovers there before Amaryllis had a chance to talk to them.

“Trust me,” she practically begged the bewildered group, “and follow me, okay?”

Before any of them could protest, Amaryllis practically shoved them all towards the cars, away from Jaskier. The teenage girl went with them, and while Amaryllis wasn’t sure who she was, she kind of liked her already.

They would all have plenty of time to get to know each other, if everything went well.

--

Jaskier was contemplating which watermelon to pick when he felt a hand brush his side gently. He jumped, dropping both melons on the ground. They smashed on the asphalt, coating his new shoes in juice.

“Thanks for this,” Jaskier groaned as he stared at the mess on the ground, “I will not be paying for these, but you will!”

He looked up to see who touched him. The breath caught in his throat, and his head started swimming right away. He wobbled on his feet for a second, before he let out a mighty “what the fuck are you doing here, you ghoul!?”

“Oh, Jaskier,” came the snarky laugh in response, “you did not change one bit.”

What terrible sin Jaskier must have committed against the gods that they brought Valdo Marx, the bane of his existence, his formal rival, his archnemesis, the curse of his life, to the peaceful little island he lived on!?

“What are you doing here,” Jaskier huffed, hands on his hips, “I thought you were in jail for being a sex offender or something.”

“You wish,” Valdo grinned. He raked his eyes over Jaskier with an appreciative hum. “Look at you. You look lovely, still. Gained some weight, but that’s par for the course after having a child, isn’t it?”

“It takes me approximately one second to grab one more melon and bash your head in with it,” Jaskier warned him. Valdo laughed heartily.

“Oh, come on, now, Jaskier, don’t be so hostile! It looks good on you. You look gorgeous, was what I was trying to say, and yet, here you are, threatening me with assault.”

“Stop with the fake compliments,” Jaskier spat, “what the hell are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be playing shit music with your band of disgraced theater kids?”

“Another thing that didn’t change: your deaf ears. We’re playing plenty, don’t worry. That’s actually why I’m here.”

“What?”

“Oh, haven’t you heard?” Valdo grinned mischievously. “A certain Mrs. Cooper is best friends with our manager. And he offered her a lovely band, ours, to play at her daughter’s wedding.”

“No,” was all Jaskier was able to say when he realized Valdo was talking about the mother of Amaryllis’s fiancée. Valdo laughed again, enjoying the horrified look on Jaskier’s face.

“Congratulations! I’ve heard Sara is marrying your daughter! Can’t wait to meet the lovely brides.”

“You. Are. Not. Playing. At. My. Daughter’s. Wedding!” Jaskier growled, emphasizing every single word. Valdo tutted at him condescendingly.

“Oh, don’t be like that! It’s going to be lovely! You can give your daughter away to the sound of my beautiful singing, doesn’t that sound good? You’ll get to watch me bask in the glory while you cry in the background. Just like old times.”

Jaskier let out a scream as he grabbed another watermelon off the stand. Valdo ducked away just in time before his head collided with the large fruit.

“See you around, Jaskier,” Valdo chuckled. The bastard had the audacity to grab his hand and kiss his knuckles, making Jaskier let out a sound that he didn’t realize he was able to make. He rushed away before Jaskier could attempt to murder him one more time.

“You’re gonna pay for all the melons you smashed, I hope you know that!” The clerk yelled at him. Jaskier nodded with a sigh of defeat.

His hands shook as he fished his money out of his wallet. This couldn’t be real. He must have been experiencing a terrible nightmare, and he would wake up soon.

He would have to come up with a plan to make sure Valdo wouldn’t get to make a mess at Amaryllis’s wedding. Jaskier won’t let that happen, that was for sure.

At least things couldn’t get worse in the meantime, he reassured himself as he walked home.

[lewis-the-quack]

That's just what I was thinking about doing. Ken, I let Barry borrow your razor for his fuzz. I hope that was all right. I'm going to drain the old stinger. Yeah, you do that. Look at that. You know, I've just about had it with your little mind games. - What's that? - Italian Vogue. Mamma mia, that's a lot of pages. A lot of ads. Remember what Van said, why is your life more valuable than mine? Funny, I just can't seem to recall that! I think something stinks in here! I love the smell of flowers. How do you like the smell of flames?! Not as much. Water bug! Not taking sides! Ken, I'm wearing a Ohapstick hat! This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Kenneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like honey! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little bee! And he happens to be the nicest bee I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking bees, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Ken. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it! I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Ken and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Barry Benson Bee to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about bees. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. Benson Bee, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a bee documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the bee children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Barry... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate bee, aren't you, Benson? He's denouncing bees! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Adam, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Adam, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the honeybees versus the human race took a pointed turn against the bees yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to sting someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the humans do to us if they win? I don't know.

been a bit @you-need-not-apply

[bunathebunny]

2023 End of Year (AO3 edition)

Remember to look at the tags before reading! :3c

January

xiao's no good horrible heat (E-rated, 1.5k)

Omegaverse

Noncon elements

Bestiality

"He has a lot of adepti, you see. Perhaps one of them would make a good mate for you." "But we can't let you get defiled by an unworthy alpha before that now, can we?" She is smiling, graceful and gentle even as she calls for the hounds she keeps.

February

the heart is a wild thing (Not Rated, 314)

Implied/Referenced Noncon

Freestyle

"I have no idea what I wrote" the fic

love is painful and to love is to suffer

March

reunion (E-rated, 1.3k)

Implied Anal

Spitting into mouth

Coming in pants

it has been a long time since ganyu and yae miko saw each other

April

mamma mia (M-rated, 1.8k)

Implied/Referenced Noncon

Non-consensual Body Modification

"man I have mommy issues" the fic

"You," she calls, because they knows not of his name and does not care to find out when their own lives are precarious as they are. "The Lady has summoned you," and with a look from top to toes, she adds with a wrinkle of her nose: "You are to come to her Ladyship, posthaste."

May

ting! ting! (pom-pom is coming) (M-rated, 1.2k)

Fluff without Plot

Implied Sexual Content

Implications of public sex

semi-public cuddling

June

every night in my dream (i see you, i feel you) (E-rated, 5k)

Dream Sex

Size Difference

Monsterfucking

He is dressed exactly as he had been when he was ushered to bed.

July

to hold (M-rated, 1k)

Omegaverse

Ruts

Alpha nesting

Still, he drinks in the warmth of Jing Yuan’s hands on his body like a starving man. Hoards each and every bit of affections that Jing Yuan shows him like collecting the most priceless treasures known to men.

August

(un)change (E-rated, 5.4k)

Omegaverse

Bitching

A bit of piss

Yanqing presented as an alpha :3c

September

flush it out (E-rated, 2.6k)

Dream Sex

Blowjobs

"Jing Yuan is a bicycle" the fic

Lan is not one prone for possessiveness. However, they do not cede what is theirs.

October

first snow flowers of the year (T-rated, 1k)

Role Reversal

Euthanasia

Hurt No Comfort

The only thing he voluntarily chose, even though he could have not chosen anything, was to be Jing Yuan's: master and caretaker and beloved, all in one.

November

lion dance (E-rated, 2.1k)

Animal Transformation

Monsterfucking

Implied Bestiality

It is well-known that General Jing Yuan enjoys breeding lions.

December

counting sheeps (Not Rated, 305)

Dying and coming back to life

Character death (implied)

No Comfort

YQY Week Day 1+2: Sleep + Fake

[vaicomcas]

Cas-centric, Dean negative fic rec!

Our Last Summer (16150 words) by Lerry_Hazel Chapters: 14/14 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Castiel & Jack Kline, Castiel & Kelly Kline (Supernatural), Castiel & Dean Winchester, Castiel & Crowley (Supernatural), Balthazar & Castiel (Supernatural), Balthazar & Jack Kline, Crowley & Jack Kline, Jack Kline & Dean Winchester, Unrequited - Relationship, Castiel/Dean Winchester, past - Relationship, Castiel/Crowley (Supernatural), Kelly Kline/Lucifer (Supernatural) Characters: Jack Kline, Castiel (Supernatural), Kelly Kline (Supernatural), Dean Winchester, Crowley (Supernatural), Balthazar (Supernatural), Claire Novak, Lucifer (Supernatural), Dagon (Supernatural) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Alternate Universe - Mamma Mia! Fusion, Confusion, Family Dynamics, Family Drama, Family Issues, Reunions, Coincidences, Suspension Of Disbelief, Lucifer is Called Nick (Supernatural), Canon-Typical Violence, give Castiel other friends, made up legislation, made up medicine, Character Death, don't worry - it's lucifer, Dean Winchester Being an Asshole, Blood and Injury, No Destiel, not for destiel fans, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, Parenthood, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean Winchester is Not Jack Kline's Parent Summary: 'How did you figure out which of the three to invite? Who is your dad? Dean, Crowley or Balthazar?’ Jack’s delight visibly dims, and Claire facepalms: ‘You didn’t write to three total strangers “Please come to my birthday party, you might be my father”, did you?’ ‘Technically, I didn’t,’ Jack mumbles, ‘they think Mom (Kelly) invited them.’   Yes, it’s “Mamma Mia” fusion with a darker twist – so probably even more weird than it sounds.

[ohsolovingsouls]

Some Charlie Headcanons for y'all;

Charlie was engaged to an agent who died in the line of duty.

Charlie then had a relationship with another agent who used the amnesia darts on her during their time together and manipulated her into doing some pretty shady things - so she has trust issues.

Charlie's codename is Kilgharrah because of her reputation for being a dragon and keeping things in order.

Charlie's dog is scrappy Lab/Schnauzer mix called Max that was bought for her by her, now deceased, fiance.

Charlie loves karaoke, Abba, Mamma Mia and Bridget Jones. She loves winding down with a glass of wine and one of her many 'stupid' TV shows.

Charlie's crush on Merlin is a long running joke at Kingsman, Merlin is, or at least acts, oblivious.

When Kingsman headquarters, it's agents and a number or it's staff were targeted and blown up Charlie was, fortunately, out at a pub with Max and her parents.