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#i am still in the middle of book 3 and when i tell you i am in DIRE NEED OF SOME LAURENT POV DECRIPTIONS OF DAMEN
orbleglorb · 2 days
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blaseball in the tumblr universe, part 3
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🦆 peripheral-duck
i vant fucking fo this anymore i need to peave thr hellmputh. i hate moab i hate this state i need OUT i can't keep doijg this. im moving 6o fucking tennessee
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🦆 peripheral-duck
thank you to everyone asking if i am okay. i woke up from a nightmare in the middle of the night to see a lost soul from the hellmouth looking in my window.
#im not moving to tennessee #that was just the only place without a blaseball team i could think of #vent
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☎️ official-jessica-telephone
for the last time. i am not the real jessica telephone! this is just a funny name!!! please stop asking me about layna i do not know her!!!
#blaseball #and tbh some of y'all are weird about celebrity relationships! #i feel so bad for the real jessphone omg #you guys need to learn what boundaries are #blaseball players are still real fucking people and no one should have to tell you this
435 notes
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🦆 peripheral-duck 🔁
📖 book-terrarium Follow
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📖 book-terrarium
The most recent BLASEBALL election. Not federal election. Sorry lmaooo
2,012 notes
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🦞 marketplace-shellfish
Sometimes i remember blaseball first started when Ronald Reagan was president and it all makes sense for about ten seconds.
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⚾️ blaseball
oh fr?
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🦞 marketplace-shellfish
???? Yes????
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🕑 mrclockman Follow
and it restarted when trump was president and the majority of players are queer. anyone who says that's just a coincidence is willingly being dense. blaseball is so obviously a right wing psyop to eliminate the undesirables
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🦞 marketplace-shellfish
Now I'm not sure about all that.
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laurents-secret-diary · 4 months
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oh damen we're really in it now.mp4
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buckyysdoll · 10 months
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— 𝐝𝐚𝐝!𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐡𝐜𝐬 —
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જ⁀➴ — summary: self explanatory; a/n: i’m down SO bad for him <3 -> @bakersbucky + @jvanilly — tagged for ur comments on the dating bucky hcs! <3; cw: light allusions to smut, canon-typical ref to bucky’s nightmares/trauma; pairing: bucky x f!reader
MAIN MASTERLIST
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• of course he cried when you told him — he never thought he’d have OR deserve a happy ending :’)
• he secretly wants a daughter so he can spoil both his girls, and he’s privately dreamt for years about the family you’d one day have
• but there’s just something about him seeing your face reflected in his little girl’s 😭 and knowing she’d have your eyes, your smile, and all those parts he adored
• “she’s gonna have your eyes, and your laugh. and i’m gonna love the two of you until i take my last breath on this earth” *😭*
• and so as your baby grows within you, you two stay up late at night in bed talking — he’s tracing the curve of your stomach so softly with his ordinary hand as he’s saying, oh she’s definitely a girl.
• or the conversation goes something like this:
— b: [whispers] i just can’t wait to meet her
— you: [smiling like a lovesick idiot] her? you think she’s a girl?
— b: of course she is, doll, i can feel it.
— you: [smiling even wider] yeah? and how could you possibly know?
— b: i’m a super soldier sweetheart. call it instinct😌
• talks to the bump, sleeps with a hand on your stomach, mother hens you so much
• bucky’d be very precious with you when it came to sex because of his strength - saying “what if i hurt our little bump?” - when meanwhile you’re laying there horny as fuck
• and so you say, “sweetheart, as much as i love you for this i am begging you to take off your shirt”
• at first, he also won’t touch you with his vibranium arm when you’re pregnant
• and with you being you — his wife — of course you notice
• and so you gently take that hand in yours and lay it on your bump and he just weeps that he can have this after all he’s seen and done
• bucky also definitely tries to make up random diy baby bits in the middle of the night
• and you tease him for how frustrated he gets with this furniture from “fucking ikea”
• especially when he then accidentally underestimates his strength and snaps the damn thing in half
• he carries you everywhere — “bucky i’m pregnant, i still have legs” // “and you also have a husband that can do the walking for you”
• gives you massages every night, wherever u want them [;) <3]
• reads literally all the baby books he can get his hands on and gets in a panic at the slightest pain or cramp — frets, “it didn’t say this in the book” or otherwise, “just breathe, doll, alright? i’ll hold you through it”
• the darker, more possessive side of him that he never quite lost (and that you loved) absolutely thrills that you’re pregnant with his child, but he tries hard to bury that part of him — though you absolutely fold at that look on his face
• in truth, he went so quiet and inward when he found out the news and u thought he wasn’t happy
• when really he’s just so fucking scared cos after all this time he still doesn’t see himself as safe
• he’ll stay up hours refusing to sleep so he can just count your breaths, and protect you. his Winter Soldier past came back full force, and hence so did that protective, defensive side. he would’ve killed for his girls.
• “what if something happens? *his voice cracks* what if i hurt our child?” 😭 and his nightmares now reflect this new fear — night terrors have him up at night, eyes wide and skin slick with sweat.
• so when he has them and you need your sleep the further along you get, he sneaks off into the living room to sleep on the couch instead
• and you’d wake up every time and seem to sense that he’s not there — or your baby kicks as if she wants to tell you bucky’s gone
• cos you know he’s not the only one that’s protective of the love of his life <3 — n you say “who’s the super soldier now, huh? you can’t get away from me that easy <3”
• because the morning then finds him with your arms around his middle as you’d scooted to lay behind him on the sofa, your bump to his back.
• your marriage was a two way street and you’d be damned if he didn’t let you comfort him, too. and it’s only when your baby kicks hard at your stomach at the moment that his metal hand was on it, that he’s convinced at last — even if only a little bit, yet — that before she’s even born, his daughter trusts him
• cos it turns out he was right that she’s a girl, his babygirl <3
• bucky’ll come home from a mission and drop his bag straight to the hardwood floor, asking “how are my girls?” with tears in his voice, before kissing your lips, then your bump*
• he gets incredibly soft and clingy — even more so than normal — every time he gets home. He’ll bury his head in your neck and just listen to your heart, hear the proof that you’re with him
• he loves her to bits even before she’s born, and he’s such a total girl dad already. he even loves her more than life when you’ve almost hit full term, and while kissing his way down your body she deliberately kicks — cockblocking her daddy.
• you laugh and you’re so so in love when he leans down and whispers, “excuse me, little one. this is a moment between me and your mother.” but it’s just no good cos every time you get closer to that point, you’re interrupted.
• he always gives in to your weird cravings, and will run to the store no matter what the time is. and if he ever gives you that look because you’re eating pickles straight from the jar, you’ll fix him with a look of your own and say, “honey you lived through world war two, i know you ate weirder shit than this”
• you always wear his shirts around the house with just your undies, and dear god it makes him so. fucking. horny
• it gets him so so proud, so protective and possessive
• speaking of, those aforementioned missions he goes on from now on? he’s absolutely insufferable
• sam teases him no end for it, but really his heart warms for his friend. especially when he’s on the phone mid-fight asking you to put the phone to your bump so he can talk to his little girl
• it’ll either be, “i just needed to hear your voice, doll”// or conversely, “i want her to know my voice” -> the two of you are his whole entire world
• so within no time at all, he flat out refuses to do them at all — he semi-retires and sam understands; he’s secretly proud of him too, just like you.
• bucky is genuinely the world’s most amazing father and you’re so, so honoured to call him the dad to your little girl
• you’re always walking in on tea parties between the two of them, and you’d be jealous at how close they are if you didn’t adore it so fucking much. she’s a daddy’s girl through n through, and who could ever blame her? you were bucky’s girl too <3
• in fact, you once walked in (it’s happened often) on her fully doing her daddy’s makeup, sat cross-legged on her bedroom floor when you come home after a shift. you couldn’t help but just stand there in the doorway crying happy, happy tears at this new life that you’d made
• it was such a far cry from the darkness you know that he’d felt for so much of his life
• and if he still takes on some missions when he has little choice, once his daughter is born? he proudly goes off to fight fascists with the remnants of pink nail polish on his fingers
• or better still, sometimes there’s glitter still left on his cheeks from the makeover he’d gotten the night before
• calls your baby “sweetheart” n has nicknames just for her — “babygirl”
• he lets you sleep with a soft “i’ll get her, love” when your daughter can’t yet sleep through the night. and you see him, the White Wolf, the ex-Winter Soldier with that smile on his face, rocking his daughter in his arms and you just think — who ever would’ve known?
• your love, your beautiful husband, had come so far from the person he’d been. bucky had healed, day by day and step by step with you walking beside him
• idea from that post i saw yrs ago on pinterest — she grows up thinking her mom’s name is “doll” because that’s what she hears her daddy call you. and it’s hilarious the first time it happens, cos she’d only just really begun to talk — and what does she say when you fill up her bottle of juice? “thank you, doll” in that little baby voice.
• bucky just burst out laughing, and you joined him. that absolute smartass <3
• your daughter grows up to you two being those parents that are embarrassingly, sickeningly in love, but that are a safe space in the home that they’ve made for her friends, if they need somewhere to stay.
• and being an ex-avenger who looks the way he does 👀 you’d be lying if you said he hadn’t become a well-renowned dilf to her friends
• his arc with you is exactly just like bucky by the end of tfatws🥲 he goes through so much growth and it’s so, so beautiful. he’s so beautiful
• and he does the arm thing, where your little girl just clings to him like a koala. she’ll giggle like hell and that’s just why he does it — so he can see the smile she inherited from you in his beautiful girl.
• even if the first time you walked in on it happening, you just were a little like 😵‍💫 honey, why are you swinging our daughter around?
• he carries her on his shoulders around the house just because she loves it <3
• and he loves you both enough that he soon starts to love himself <3
✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪
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wosoamazing · 2 months
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Nursery & Sickness
Summary: You don't want to go to nursery. You also get sick from Nursery, making your Mum sick too. Based off this request.
Warnings: Sickness (Vomiting)
A/N: I was kind of stumped on what to write so of course I turned it into a sickfic - I hope that is okay. I promise I am trying to write things other than sickfics, some of your requests are definitely helping with that.
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You didn't want to go to Nursery, you wanted to go to training as you always did, but you didn't understand why you couldn’t. Once you realised your Mum was leading you in the direction of your nursery you planted your feet firmly on the ground, refusing to walk, she just picked you up, not budging at your actions.
As she placed you down in your room, you started to cry, you didn't want to leave her side. “I’ve got to go to training Bubba, so you’re going to spend the day here, and I’ll be back to pick you up as soon as training is over”
“No, I come training with you”
“But Bubba you can’t, it's better for you to go to Nursery, and you can still come to games, I promise I will be back to pick you up.”
“No go,” you sobbed.
“I have to, what if we read a book together before I go?” You sadly nodded your head and went over to pick a book, while you Mum sat crossed legged on the floor. You chose a book and walked over to her, before walking backwards into her lap and sitting down, she read you the book and you calmed down, enough so that she didn’t feel guilty to leave you. 
_
When she came back to pick you up, you had a huge grin on your face and you were in the middle of a painting activity, you didn't want to leave. So she helped you finish your painting before you both went home, in the car you told her about your amazing day. She was relieved that you had enjoyed, so much so that you asked when you were getting to go back
_____
Leah expected you to be sad and upset the first time she took you to Nursery, but what she didn’t expect was that you would have a new illness every week, the experienced nursery parents told her that this was normal, and would happen for roughly 2 or 3 months than you would just get like the seasonal flu, and if you moved Nurseries it would happen all over again, Leah took a mental note of that and promised herself she would not move you to a different Nursery. Heaps of the more experienced parents told her that this would happen for the first 2 or 3 months than you would be fine, so she just had to get through it.
_____
Today was game day, which you were excited for, it meant you didn’t have to go to Nursery, however you felt funny, your head kind of hurt and your tummy felt icky, but you didn’t tell your Mum, you didn’t want her to make you stay home.
You slept in the car on the way to the game, which wasn’t a rare occurrence, considering it was a late game. When you were offered your snacks to eat before the game started you shook your head, which your Mum found odd as it was an offer you would always jump at. You fell asleep very quickly into the first half and slept the whole way through the game. Only waking up when Katie turned on the TV to see the men play as she waited for Caitlin to finish getting ready. The loud noise of the fans cheering through the TV radiated through your head and you started crying.
“What’s wrong Bubba?” Your Mum asked, snapping her fingers in Katie’s direction, who quickly turned down the volume.
“Icky,” you cried out.
“Oh Bubba, do you feel sick?” she asked as she felt your forehead, which was quite warm. You nodded in reply.
“Okay, well I’ll just get our stuff all packed up and then we can go okay, I love you,” she said, placing a kiss on your forehead. She was walking around the locker room, gathering all your things when the sound of liquid spilling onto the floor echoed around the locker room. She quickly spun around to see you covered in vomit, with a puddle of vomit in front of you. She quickly moved over to you and moved you out of the way of your puddle of vomit, tears started to roll down your cheeks, as she went to look over to Katie to ask something, but Katie had already left the room and there is no one else in the room, they all have already left or the ones that remain are in the showers.
Your Mum takes off your Shirt and Shorts, and uses a wet wipe to wipe your hands and face, before she starts getting you changed into your spare clothes. As she is smoothing down your hair that was messed up by your shirt, you gag, she looks around the room panicked trying to figure out what she can grab, when she sees Katie walk in who quickly chucks her a sick bowl. She places the sick bowl under your chin just in time as you start throwing up again. Caitlin, Steph, Lia and Kim have all now finished their showers and walk into the room, to see the absolute scene in front of them. Your Mum is kneeling beside you rubbing your back as you throw up into the sick bowl she is holding for you, there is a puddle of vomit nearby and a bag with your vomit cover clothes in it, sitting near you, that has yet to be tied up. 
“Do you need any help Leah?” Kim asks.
“No, no it’s all good, you guys just go, have a good night,” Leah responds, they all quickly gather their things and head out, except for one, who is rushing around behind your Mum, gathering all your belongings. She has finished packing all three of your bags and walks over to where the bag with your dirty clothes sits, your Mum jumps slightly not realising there was still someone in the room with her, she looks up to find it is Lia, her heart melting slightly at the kindness of her best friend.
“Lia, you really didn't need to stay behind,” she looks behind her, “Or pack up any of our stuff.”
“Don’t be silly Leah, I’ll just take these things out to the car and then I’ll come back for you and Y/N/N, and before you say you are fine to drive home, we drove here together.” Your Mum’s face cringed, she had totally forgotten that.
When Lia came back in you were sitting in your Mum’s lap, as she held you close, rocking you backwards and forwards.
“Le,” Lia said softly, your Mum looked up, “I’m ready when you are.” Your Mum got up and headed to the car, you threw up a lot more that night. The worst being when you had just gotten home, you were in your Mum’s arms, meaning it was all over you and her.
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It had been a day since you last threw up, but you still felt icky so you were sleeping in your Mum’s bed, between her and Lia. Lia had insisted she stayed to help look after you.
“Fuck, Lia, can you hand me a sick bowl?” Your Mum asked.
“Yeah, but why, Y/N/N is asleep. Or have your Mum senses started tingling,” Lia joked as she handed the sick bowl to your Mum, who lent her head back against the headboard and closed her eyes, taking some deep breaths, Lia quickly clicked on to what was happening. She carefully and gently picked you up and quickly walked to your room, knowing Leah would be more comfortable if you weren’t there, she placed you on your bed before returning to the room. She climbed into the bed and sat next to your Mum, placing her hand on your Mum’s thigh, gently reassuring her, knowing that your Mum wouldn't want much physical touch currently. They remained like that for a few minutes before your Mum’s upper body jerked forward and she lost the contents of her stomach into the sick bowl, Lia rubbed her back whilst she softly spoke reassuring words to her.
____
You awoke in your bed feeling much better, but you wanted your Mum so you decided to toddle off down the hall and into her room, you saw her with Lia in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet as Lia rubbed her back, you walked into the bathroom.
“Mummy?” You questioned, slightly worried.
“Mummy is sick, I think she got your sick. Are you feeling better?" you nodded your head, "Thats good," Lia said before she moved her free hand to your Mums shoulder and gently squeezed it, your Mum shook her head slightly and Lia murmured a quiet 'okay' before she turned her gaze back to you. "Why don’t you go out to the living room and I’ll join you in a sec,” you nodded and toddled off.
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bangtanflirt · 7 months
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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 9)
*Series taglist is closed.
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angst, fluff, smut
Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.
Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.
Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10
General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)
Specific Warnings: injury involving blood, toxic workplace conversations, one nonsexual bathing scene, very brief conversation around Hoseok's eating habits
____
Jungkook wakes up in the middle of the night, jolted out of sleep by the figure trembling against his body. He looks down at Taehyung, whose face is etched in terror. Distressed whimpers spill from his lips, quiet pleas of “please no” as his nightmares get more and more intense. The wolf tries to pull his packmate closer, tightening his grip to stop the shaking, but it doesn’t do much. He switches tactics, opting to whisper calming words in the man’s ear instead.
“You’re alright hyung. I’m here.”
He keeps repeating the last part, feeling powerless as his hyung’s whimpers turn into full-on sobbing. It’s Jimin who wakes up next, followed soon by the other two. All of them stare with wide, worry-filled eyes as Taehyung struggles against Jungkook’s chest.
Namjoon turns on the lamp, looking around when he sees one less person in bed.
The oldest wolf is nowhere in sight, and the bathroom light isn’t on either.
But there’s no time to wonder about Jin—not when Taehyung’s claws shoot out of from his fingertips, scratching frantically until he’s fully out of Jungkook’s grasp. The feeling of real skin underneath his nails is enough to drag him back to consciousness, eyes now open and processing his surroundings.
Blood.
Claw marks.
His Koo with a pained expression.
It all comes into focus one by one.
“Koo…I’m so sorry…I-I didn’t mean—”
“Shh, it’s okay hyung, it’s alright.” He’s flinching as the wounds sting against his skin.
Jimin swiftly acts, digging through the bedside drawers until he finds the first-aid kit. He carefully peels the bloody shirt off of Jungkook before working on the wounds, holding the pup’s hands as the iodine burns hot against broken flesh.
Namjoon and Hoseok focus on calming Taehyung down, turning him away from the stressful scene to look at them instead.
“Bad dream, huh pup?”
Taehyung nods, tears still pooling around his eyes, “Yes Alpha.”
Hoseok pulls him in close, “You don’t need to tell us about it if you don’t want to.”
Taehyung nods meekly.
Most of the nightmare is a blur, but there are parts he remembers clear as day: the researchers laughing with each strike on his heels…Jimin on the side laughing with them, delighted to see him mess up his duties once again.
Hit him harder. He’s just slowing the pack down. Useless mutt.
Taehyung cringes as Jimin’s voice rings in his ear, so crisp as if it happened in real life.
“I’m so sorry Koo.” He still doesn’t look back, facing Hoseok while apologizing.
“It’s okay hyung, it happens.”
“Are you okay? Should I help?”
Jimin interjects, “I’ve got this Tae, just focus on calming down for now.”
It’s an innocent statement, but anything out of the other caretaker’s mouth is enough to irk Taehyung at the moment.
“I am calm.” He snaps.
The cold front between the two wolves is still as icy as ever, and only Namjoon has it in him to say something.
“That’s not the tone we use to talk to our packmates, Tae.”
“Sorry Alpha.”
“Apologize to Jimin too.”
The wolf bites the inside of his cheek, reluctantly looking back and forcing an apology through gritted teeth.
“Sorry Jimin hyung.”
“It’s okay. You’re just tired.”
Everyone knows that’s a lie.
___
The wolves finally find their oldest the next morning, curled up on the living room sofa with an open book as his pillow. He stirs awake at the sound of feet shuffling in, looking up and realizing he fell asleep while reading.
“You look adorable” Hoseok smiles, “Did you come out here because you couldn’t sleep again?”
Jin nods, getting up and stretching out, body a little stiff after being contorted on the sofa.
“Came out to read, didn’t realize I fell asleep.”
“Looks like it worked, you look cozy snuggled up in that blanket.”
The remark brings the blanket to Jin’s attention. He doesn’t remember ever grabbing it last night, but here he is, wrapped around in the dark blue fabric.
“Don’t freak out, but there was a little accident.” Namjoon recounts what happened, watching Jin’s worried gaze go back and forth between Taehyung and Jungkook.
“I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve helped take care of them.” He groans in frustration.
“It’s okay hyung. We got it handled, and I’m sure we’re all glad you got some sleep.”
The rest nod in agreement, but Jin still holds a bit of guilt in his eyes.
“Is the wound really deep?”
Jungkook shakes his head, “No, it wasn’t even a lot of blood. It was my fault, I should’ve given him space instead of holding him closer.”
“It’s not your fault Koo, I lost control. It’s all me.”
“It’s no one’s fault. Now we know to give Tae his space if it ever happens again.”
“Exactly, thank you Jinnie” Namjoon holds out his hand to ruffle the older wolf’s head, glad to have someone like Jin help lead the pack. Jin tilts his head back, leaning into the touch. It’s instinctive when the Alpha dips down, meeting his packmate’s lips for a chaste peck on the lips.
The moment isn’t lost on anyone in the room. Such a simple, domestic peck that screams “I love you.” It’s a gesture that the two haven’t shared in over three months, but still feels as natural as ever now.
The sight has hope wriggling its way into Jimin’s heart.
Things are slowly going back to normal. Taehyung and I will go back too. Everything will be alright.
It’s the first time since they’ve entered the house that the hybrids slept in late, and the first time breakfast is already waiting for them. The caretaker hybrids can’t help but profusely apologize, which you dismiss immediately, telling them you’re glad they’re getting more rest. Namjoon almost tells you about how little they actually slept, but decides it better to keep your good mood intact.
Jin can’t help but glance over at Yoongi throughout breakfast, but thankfully no one, not even Yoongi, notices. No matter how hard he tries, he just can’t understand why the man would bring him a blanket. He’s not his packmate, and he’s not someone Jin’s on the best terms with, so why?
It’s even more puzzling when the two of them reach for the last rolled omelet at the same time, and Yoongi retracts his chopsticks immediately.
“No please, take it. Humans first.” Jin says, pushing the plate towards the man.
The phrase causes a stare from both you and Yoongi, making Jin feel small.
“That’s not a thing here Jin.” You speak up.
“S-sorry.” He timidly takes the piece, watching to make sure Yoongi isn’t pissed off.
Yoongi’s response isn’t one Jin is prepared for,
“Do you like it?”
The hybrid nods.
Yoongi flashes the smallest smile, “It’s one of the few things I make well.”
Jin doesn’t know why, but his cheeks heat up as he bites into the omelet under Yoongi’s gaze.
___
“I’m really okay hyung.” Jungkook assures, holding his hands above his head as his packmate lifts his shirt off, stripping each piece of clothing until the youngest is fully bare.
“But I still feel bad, so let me take care of you pup.”
Jungkook doesn’t protest any further, getting into the bath and watching fondly as his packmate shakes off his clothes to do the same. He makes room as Taehyung sinks into the water behind him, pulling the younger one’s back flush against his chest.
Jungkook’s eyes flutter as Taehyung runs his fingers through his hair, carefully massaging his scalp with a decent amount of shampoo.
“Feel good Koo?”
“Mhmm, really good.”
Taehyung smiles at the way Jungkook gets lost in his touch, letting out low hums of contentment on occasion.
“Hyung”
“Yes Koo?”
“Was the nightmare really scary?”
Taehyung stiffens at the memory,
“It was.”
“Was it about the lab?”
“Yeah.”
“Well then no one in that nightmare can hurt you anymore. We’re far away from them, so don’t worry.”
Taehyung doesn’t answer, giving Jungkook’s hair a slight tug to get the boy lost back into the sensation—desperate to escape the conversation. It works, as Jungkook all but dozes off.
___
“You’ve been doing really well with eating Hobi, looking a lot healthier” you smile, curling up on the opposite side of the couch as him.
His face beams at the compliment, “Thank you!”
“I’m sure it’s been hard.”
“Sometimes,” he chuckles nervously, “it feels wrong to eat as much as everyone else. But I’m learning it’s not.”
“I’m really glad. Is there anything you need from me? I’m happy to help with anything.”
“Um…there is one thing…do you think you could take me out somewhere? I know you and Namjoon went for a walk, and he said it was really nice. But it’s okay if you’re too busy!” Your heart swells at the nervous request. If there’s one thing you’ve learned, it’s that Hoseok is the worst when it comes to asking you for things, so this is a big win in your book. You’re finally getting somewhere with him.
“I’m actually taking Taehyung to an art store after he washes up. If you want to tag along, we’d be more than happy to have you.”
“Yes yes yes!”
His enthusiasm has you almost laughing, but you catch yourself, not wanting him to think he’s being laughed at for saying something wrong.
“Can everyone go? It can be a group trip!”
You’re smile falters for a second, “As much as I’d like that, I don’t think I can take all six of you there at the same time.”
Hoseok understands, people wouldn’t exactly be happy at the sight of six wolf hybrids out and about—even if leashed.
“I get it.”
“Sorry sweetheart.”
“No no, it’s okay. Thank you for inviting me. Are you sure it’s okay, though? Even two wolves are enough to scare people.”
“Two should be fine, you leave worrying about all of that to me.”
As if on cue, Taehyung walks in, all giddy and ready to go out.
“Hobi’s joining us.”
Taehyung jumps in excitement, urging his hyung to go get ready quick so they can get there sooner.
The store is everything Taehyung could dream of and more, with every type of paint in every color imaginable lining the shelves. He’s like a kid in a candy store with the way he bounces around from aisle to aisle, and you’re sure that you would’ve lost him three seconds in if not for the leash.
“He’s really in his element” you laugh.
“Painting used to be his favorite thing in the world. There weren’t a lot of places that sold paint to us though, so we couldn’t indulge him like this. He’s in paradise right now.”
The statement makes you wonder how exactly they lived before all of this. You’ve seen news segments on hybrid communities, how they had their own currencies and hierarchies. Lower percentage hybrids were captured by humans and sold off pretty quickly, but the higher percentage ones found a way to create their own society.
Hoseok thinks back to those days too, reminiscing how good everything used to be. They were thankful everyday for the genetic lottery they had won—being not only wolf hybrids, but a high enough percentage for no human to ever try to capture them. His pack was truly the apex of their society, until humanity’s greed ripped it all from their hands. Now he’s here, on a leash with a head full of trauma that he can’t escape.
The cart fills up quick, partly because you tell him “get both” every time Taehyung asks you to choose between art supplies.
Everything’s going well until Taehyung’s excitement gets the better of him, accidentally knocking over a little boy in the canvas aisle. It’s a soft bump, but it does cause the boy, looking no older than twelve, to fall back. He’s shaking in fear as the wolf reaches out to give him a hand. Taehyung quickly realizes he’s not making the situation better and steps back, making himself small as he interlocks fingers with Hoseok. You step up to the front and offer your hand instead, pulling the boy up while making sure there’s no bruises or scrapes anywhere.
“So sorry about that, he’s just excited. Are you hurt?”
“It’s o-okay. I’m not h-hurt.”
“Excuse me, what the hell is going on?” A shrill voice asks, new figure emerging from the aisle over and yanking you away from the boy instantly.
It’s obvious she’s his mother, and you’re quick to explain the situation.
“If you can’t control your hybrids in public then you should leave them at home. My kid got hurt because of you.”
You put on your fake smile once again, trying to resolve this as quickly and quietly as to not make the hybrids anxious.
“He doesn’t look hurt anywhere Ma’am. I’ve apologized to him already, so I think it’s best we all continue with our shopping.”
She eyes you up and down, gaze lingering on your Prada purse and Gucci belt.
“Nonsense, your unruly wolf pushed my baby down. It’s only fair you compensate us.”
 Taehyung grips Hoseok’s hand tighter, unable to believe he messed up again.
You scoff, understanding exactly what kind of person this mother was.
“Compensate? For a small incident where no one got hurt? You’re not making sense Ma’am.”
“If I say my kid is hurt, then he is. Unless you want a complaint sent to Hybrid Control, I would find a good amount to make it up to us.”
Both the hybrids lose color at the mention of Hybrid Control…Hybrid Control complaints gave the government authority to take away hybrids deemed “dangerous to society.” It’s a case by case situation, but a complaint against a 40% wolf would no doubt lead Taehyung to being caged up.
You’re aware of this too, as you quickly open your banking app at the mention of the authorities. It takes a second after the woman puts her information in your phone for you to recognize it.
“Gong Hye Sun…you’re not, by chance, wife of Ha-jun, are you?”
She raises a brow, “You know my husband?”
Your mouth twists into a different smile this time, going from fake nice to condescending in a second.
“I’m his boss. Shin Y/N, nice to meet you.”
That changes the conversation entirely. Hye Sun steps back, heart racing at realizing who she’s talking to. Shin Y/N. The name she’s heard a thousand times from her husband’s lips—the name that determined when his next bonus was, if he was on the newest projects, if he had a promotion lined up, and everything else that their family aspired for. She takes back her words at the speed of light.
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Sure you didn’t,” you roll your eyes “I hope you don’t carelessly threaten Hybrid Control in the future. It’s not cute. Transferred some pocket money because I’m feeling nice. Get the boy some ice cream or something. Now, if you’ll excuse us.”
You brush past her, Taehyung and Hoseok trailing with relieved expressions.
“Why do I always mess things up?” Taehyung sighs, locking his seatbelt in as you start the car.
“It was just an accident, Tae.” Hoseok assures, giving his hand a squeeze.
“It doesn’t matter if it’s an accident or not. I’m always the one causing trouble.”
“Relax darling, you’re a lot better than I was at twenty-three.”
“You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”
“I’m not! You can google it once you get home. I was a real piece of work before I inherited the company. There’s probably five hundred articles of me embarrassing myself at parties or events. If you ever feel like a fuck-up, read those and you’ll feel better in no time.”
You spend the rest of the ride telling them about your past, prompting the youngest into bouts of laughter every time you mention a drunk partying fiasco. Taehyung doesn’t even realize that he’s too busy laughing to do his usual routine of mental degradation after a mistake.
___
The day goes by with everyone shuffling in and out of the study, watching in awe as Taehyung works in his element. He’s got all the reference pictures of your grandmother in front of him, doing rough sketches and beginning the underpainting process. It’s mesmerizing, seeing a new layer on the canvas every time you peek your head in. You do drag him out for lunch and dinner this time, telling him he can’t eat while painting.
It's when Jin is wiping down the dining table does Yoongi speak to him again.
“Hope you weren’t too cold last night. It was the only blanket I could find.”
Jin looks around paranoid, making sure his pack is too preoccupied to overhear Yoongi’s words. The man catches on quickly.
“You don’t want them to know?”
Jin keeps his eyes at the table, avoiding eye contact. All the hybrids had agreed to keep a united front, making sure to let you know that they’re on your side when it comes to you and Yoongi. It’s not much, but just keeping him company made Jin feel guilty…maybe because of just how much he liked it. It was nice to have a reading buddy. The only other packmate who likes to read is Namjoon, and he prefers to do it alone. It’s a simple thing, reading with someone else present, knowing you’re both immersed in your own worlds while sitting next to each other—simple yet so nice.
Yoongi leans in, “It can be our secret, don’t worry.”
He walks away nonchalantly, not knowing that it’s the second time he’s made Jin’s cheeks burn today.
It’s 11pm when all the hybrids in their room—even Taehyung, who Namjoon had to pry away from his paints. The wolves are getting ready to tuck themselves in for the night, leaving you and Yoongi alone in the living room. You watch as he sets up his laptop in a corner, getting ready for an emergency meeting. He’d asked you to stay and listen in from the side, making it one less thing he has to write in a recap email. It feels odd, though, being alone with him for this amount of time. The awkwardness weighs heavily on both of you.
The meeting starts in a frenzy, as much as any other emergency meeting. It’s not uncommon in the field you’re in, not even when it’s 11pm on a Sunday. In the world of venture capitalism, the work doesn’t sleep, and neither do the workers. You listen in closely as your COO, Minhyun talks through the screen, calmly addressing everyone’s concerns and weighing in on the best course of action. It makes you more jealous than you care to admit, the way he commands a room with such a level-headed demeanor. Yoongi’s words creep back into your brain, reminding you of how much better the office is without your presence. You wonder if Shin Investments would perform better under someone like Minhyun—if you’re just not competent enough.
It’s 2am when a course of action is determined, the call full of tired businessmen all ready to hang up. All except one of the board members, whose voice you recognize as Mr. Yoo, who’s still somehow in the mood to gossip after a three hour meeting.
“It must be nice to be Miss Shin right now, going on vacation with six hybrids while the rest of us are here working long nights on a weekend.”
Yoongi looks over, telling you to be calm with his gaze alone. He knows you’re itching to give some biting remark and put Yoo back in his place, but the last thing either you or him need right now is people finding out you’re living together. Thankfully, you’re on the same page, biting back your tongue and remaining silent off-screen.
“Miss Shin hasn’t taken a vacation day off since she started here. I’m sure she’s earned to sleep through a couple more nights.”
Yoongi watches as Yoo’s facial expressions change, clearly not expecting anyone to defend you.
“Sure, sure. Just a little obnoxious to use it this way, isn’t it? I mean, it’s not like she has a family trip or emergency. Three whole weeks to have an orgy with wolf hybrids…” His smirk is especially sleazy at that part, causing other bursts of laughter to erupt from the meeting, “it’s just not very ladylike.”
Your knuckles are paper-white as you clutch the side of your chair, using every ounce of restraint in your body to not berate the man through the camera. Yoongi seems equally upset, as his response comes across even more annoyed than before.
“If I recall, Mr. Yoo, you’ve taken three vacations for honeymoons in the past two years alone. Three honeymoons in two years…I wonder how long the newest marriage will last. Why don’t we bet on it?”
“Mr. Min! Watch it.”
“My bad, I thought it was open floor to comment on our coworkers’ personal lives today.”
That one gets a laugh out of Minhyun.
“Alright alright, that’s enough. Mr. Yoo, just because Y/N isn’t here doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate such remarks towards her. I’ll give you a warning this time, but any further instances will land you straight to HR. And Mr. Min, let’s refrain from personal comments as well. Now, it’s been a long day and we should all get some sleep. Goodnight everyone.”
It’s only when Yoongi closes his laptop do you talk again,
“Thank you…for speaking up for me.”
“Always.”
It’s silent as he packs up his bag. Your expression is sour, and it’s clear you’re still bothered. He almost doesn’t say anything—fearing you’re not in a place to have proper conversations with him yet—but he can’t let you spiral in your thoughts alone.
“You can’t let sleazy comments like that get to you, Y/N.”
“It’s not Yoo’s comment that I’m thinking about.”
“Then what is it?”
You hang your head in resignation. “Minhyun would make a better CEO than me.”
“That’s not true.”
“Yes it is. He’s excellent.”
It’s reflexive the way Yoongi’s at your side at the first sign of you doubting yourself.
“Shin Y/N, ever since you’ve taken over the company, profit margin has increased by 15% and stock value by 6%. There is no reason for you to be doubting or comparing your abilities.”
“It’s not just about numbers, though, is it? He’s also kind and everyone seems to like and respect him.”
“And who says you can’t be kind?”
You look at him with a questioning brow raise, “You did. Very clearly when you told me how much happier the office is without me.”
He takes one of your hands, clasping it between his own to pull you face-to-face. You expect him to let go, but he doesn’t, and you don’t try to get away either.
“I never said you can’t be. I just said you need to try harder, and I’m standing by that statement.”
You scoff, “That’s easier said than done, you know?”
“Since when has something being too hard ever stopped you from trying?”
You hold his gaze, realizing he does have a point. It’s the first time you’re not getting fully defensive about the subject, and Yoongi takes that as a win in itself.
“They’ll call me a weak little girl the second I start, Yoongi.” The vulnerability is clear in your voice.
“Maybe they will, but we both know you’re not. There’s not one thing those men can do or say to take away from how competent you are—but, as long as they can make you insecure like this, they’ll be the ones who have all the power.”
You look down, words taking a moment to soak into your brain. The way he’s holding your hand feels strange…intimate in a way it’s never felt before.
“Will you really stay by my side through everything?”
“I will. I promise.”
____
A/N: Do you guys like the way things are progressing? Let me know! Comments and reblogs make me happy :)
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bluecollarmcandtf · 7 days
Text
"Dude, I took over your dad's body.."
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"...and goddamn is there a lot of him to work with! I've been a ghost for years now, but I've never been inside a 6' 3" ex-linebacker! I've been checking him out all afternoon, and let me tell you that this man is big and hairy all over," he punctuates his comment with a wink.
Your dad, the man you've looked up to your entire life, is saying things you don't want to think about while casually laying on the couch in nothing but a robe and booty shorts. The urge to puke is suppressed, but you know that Jimmy has crossed a line here. Your deceased friend has possessed bullies, professors, and more, but he's never had the balls to take over your own family. What was he thinking?
"I jumped into him while he was at work. I think his coworkers probably found it strange when I picked up his briefcase and waddled his ass out the door," Jimmy chuckles at the memory, "But don't worry. Your old man had plenty of sick days he wasn't gonna use."
It doesn't take long for you to burst out in anger at the spirit controlling your father. Your face is hot, and you can't stand to watch your dad get puppetted around like a fool!
"Calm the fuck down!" he swears uncharacteristically, "Give this big guy a hug. Come here. Daddy needs some love..."
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The thought of hugging your father while he's being forced to act like this feels wrong, but you relent. A part of you is glad for the embrace. It might not actually be your dad, but paternal comfort is exactly what you need right now, and your real dad isn't the type to give his child a hug.
"That's it, son," Jimmy pets your head with your father's thick hands, "Let daddy take care of you. Let your dumb old fart-of-a-father give you some much-needed attention."
You can't help but chuckle at the self-deprecating joke. Your real dad was too proud to laugh at himself, and he'd never made an effort to be anything other than distant and formal with you. In fact, there was a lot your real dad would never do; he'd never leave the office in the middle of the day, he'd never lay around the house like a lazy bum, and he'd certainly never let his hairy chest and thick legs be on full display in front of his disappointing gay son.
Suddenly, while still embraced, you realize there's something poking into your waist.
"Sorry, dude," your father whispers in your ear, "I guess your dad is just happy to see you."
You push him away, insisting that Jimmy needs to stay out of family members' bodies because this just feels so wrong! You search the pair of unnaturally blank eyes for any sign that Jimmy might be listening to you.
"You need to relax, bro," your dad (Jimmy) groans in annoyance. He looks disappointed, but then he sparks up and gives you a new look of excitement. "Son," he says with exaggerated machismo, "Take a page from my book and learn to chill out. It doesn't matter what the world thinks about you or me. I'll prove it to you..."
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With a placid grin and blank gaze, your father lumbers past and marches straight out the front door of the house. You're almost too stunned to follow. Was Jimmy really going to parade your dad's body around the neighborhood in nothing but his robe?
"Afternoon, neighbor," your father's rumbling tone bellows across the street, "Lovely weather, today. My son thought I should take my fat hairy gut for a little stroll in the sun. You know us dads have got to keep our boys happy. Am I right?"
Mr. Jones stares at your father from his porch, just as shocked as you are. He often drank beers with this man and every other neighborhood dad at backyard barbecues and living room game watches. This was not how he normally interacted with the man, and it obviously struck him as weird.
"You alright, Bob?" he asks hesitantly.
"Right as rain, neighbor!" Jimmy answers with a tone that's too goofy to pass as my dad's, "If that's how you're staring at me now, I wonder what'll happen if I take this robe off..."
Before Mr. Jones can process the flirtation in your father's voice, you shuffle your dad further down the street and away from the whole interaction. That may have been hilarious, but Jimmy was going to destroy any reputation and respect your father had around here!
You demand to know where Jimmy is going with this body. It's not like you have any ability to even slow the ghost down when he's got the weight and strength of your 200 lb father.
"I'm thinking the park. Your dad could use some cardio," he smirks, an unfamiliar expression on the grown man's face, "Or maybe the public bathroom on the north end. You know, it has that hole in the stall..."
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No amount of reasoning or arguments can change Jimmy's mind. Apparently he's set on wearing your father to the city's most notorious gay hookup spot.
"Don't look at me like that," his gravelly voice sounds amused by your frustration, "With me in charge, your dad will be the dirtiest slut that bathroom's ever seen. Don't you think it'll be funny to see such a massive, manly bear serving man after man in there?"
You sigh in disbelief.
"Or...maybe I don't have to rent out your dad's body to a bunch of strangers..."
You wonder where he's going with this. It sounds like an ultimatum is coming, and you don't like the idea of your crazy dead friend giving you an ultimatum.
"...your dad could hold off on bottoming for strangers...if...you let him be your submissive little bitch."
The choice is an annoying one, but you're pretty sure you can't let your dad have unprotected sex with strangers in a public place. This is what he'd want right?
"That's what I thought," the grin on your father's face twists maniacally. He tussles your hair like he's the proudest dad in the world, "Let's head on back home, buddy. Daddy's gonna lick every inch of sweat off that body of yours. He's got years of emotional absence to make up for."
One of his beefy arms cradles your back and turns you around. You're relieved to no longer be headed towards the public bathroom, but you're still a little nervous about what awaits you at home. How does Jimmy expect you to enjoy any of this when it's your dad doing all these things to you?
"Daddy's gonna treat you to a night that's all about you," he goes on, "Cooking you dinner, rubbing your feet, cuddling on the couch, and so much more. I want you to think of some humiliating things daddy can do for you while we walk back. Make sure they're extra degrading or your dad will just have to step out of the house and degrade himself where the entire city can see..."
The last comment gives you butterflies in your stomach, but it also gives you a bit of a hard-on. Maybe Jimmy playing with your dad wasn't so scary of an idea after all. With him possessed, anything was on the table: personal affirmations, some much needed bonding, roleplay, revenge, humiliation. Heck, you could even give your father a golden shower and Jimmy would have him smiling through it!
Walking home, you steal glances at your dad, towering over you as his rotund gut leads the way. Home can't come fast enough!
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dduane · 1 month
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Salutations and good wishes to you. I am an Indie Author seeking to go Pro. Some good advice and guidance might help minimise the mountain of my anxiety about doing this. I know you got your start with fanfiction, but did you find a publisher/agent through that door? [lots sneer at these days. Still] How many rejections did you suffer before you found your place in the literary world? Thanks for your time and sorry for bothering you <3
Hi there! And don't sweat it: this is no bother.
I have to apologize in advance, because my own career arc isn't likely to serve as much of a good example. In terms of how I got into this business, I'm a serious outlier.
Quickest and easiest to discuss: my agent and I got together after my first book was already bought and published. (Which back in the day was seen as a good enough way to go forward, and then still entirely possible.) He was recommended to me by one of my editors, as—like me—he was just getting started in the business: a likely-looking newcomer then scouting new talent. We met up and chatted, and it seemed to both of us that we'd be a good fit for each other. After forty-odd years of working together, we still are.
About the fanfic: (Adding a cut here so as not to carpet people's dashes with wall-to-wall text...)
What writing all that fic did for me—from about age sixteen onwards—was give me a whole lot of practice in getting the initial garbage associated with a story written and out of the way. Best to admit it here: we all have plenty of crap writing in us. And yeah, even long-term professional writers do. Whether you're at the beginning of your career or right in the middle of it, this is what "zero drafts" are for. You tell yourself the story, first time out... and routinely at this stage a lot of what proves to be unusable stuff emerges, and can be discarded in rewrite. (Of course crap writing can also emerge without warning in the later stages of a project, but there are many reasons for that, all beyond the scope of this discussion.) And you learn even more from reworking the material after you've gotten rid of the dross.
During the period when I was executing what might have been, oh, half a million words of fanfic—Trek originally, and then LoTR—and while reading a whole lot of everything, as I'd been doing since I was first allowed to go raid the town library by myself at age eight—I learned a fair amount about writing without realizing it. Some of it was simply about writing inside a set of rules. (Which I hadn't been doing previously: between eight and sixteen I was writing original fiction, mostly fairy tales.) Naturally in fanfic you have to obey the laws of whatever universe you're working in... or even if you wind up flouting them consciously, you do have to be conscious of them. But this work also led me to something that I hadn't really spent a lot of time thinking about: the concept that fiction writing as a whole had rules. I realized I'd better find out what those were.
The best stuff I found out during this period was what I picked up by direct example from other writers, whom I'd immediately start imitating and then sort of leave by the wayside when I found others I liked better; at which point I'd start imitating them. (This being a great way to learn and hone new skills, and to start getting a sense of what a writer's "voice" is and can come to mean. I think every writer does this, to some extent: because it's really, really tough to learn how to write without reading. And the more extensively the better.)
I have to emphasize here, BTW, that the fanfic that came out of me as I started slogging up this learning curve was all almost uniformly terrible. All of it, mercifully, along with my earliest original fiction, is gone now: long since burnt, shredded, composted under many layers of time. Trust me, it's just as well. Gah was it awful! Nobody else ever saw the stuff, for which I thank great Thoth every time I think about it. ...What's interesting, too, in its way, was that I didn't even know that what I was doing was fan fiction. I had as yet no contact with any kind of organized fandom, and it would be a long time yet before "online" was invented. I was working in utter isolation, unaware that anybody else might have been doing the same thing. (And it's difficult to describe the sense of astonishment and joy that hit me the first time I went to an SF convention, saw fanzines for the first time, and found out that I was not alone. All unsuspecting, I'd stumbled onto one of my tribes.)
But somewhere along the line, as the years went by—as I finished high school and went to college, and then from there to nursing school, and graduated and started working as a psychiatric nurse, and kept on writing—at some point, as I started writing original fiction again, as well as fanfic, the quality of the output began to improve. The combination of constant practice and voracious reading of better writers outside my chosen genre was slowly having an effect. Trusted friends who saw this later material started saying, "This isn't bad, you should try to get it published!" But since none of these folks were writers, I didn't pay too much attention to their opinions.
I did pay attention, though, when my good friend and mentor David Gerrold said something similar on reading my first novel in 1976. And when that was bought by the first publisher who read it, I had to admit he might have had something there.
This too, though, is unfortunately also a way I'm an outlier: I haven't had a lot of rejection. (Even in my TV work, where rejection is pretty much the rule rather than the exception.) Speaking very generally, just about anyone I've pitched something to in the prose market has bought it—or if they didn't like the idea I came in with, they've immediately said "But would you like to do this instead?" And often enough, what they've offered or suggested has been something that sounded like fun. That's how I wound up doing the Star Trek: Rihannsu books, for example: they were "instead of" a Romulan dictionary. Paramount essentially ringfenced an entire AU-area of Trek and gave it to me to play in, which struck me at the time as amazing. And continues to do so.
Now all this may make me sound almost unfairly lucky. But things do tend, slowly or quickly, to balance out. Over time the universe has made up for its relative kindness at the rejection end of things by making sure I knew plenty about the non-rejection forms of writer-career pain: projects from which I was not rejected but which went terribly wrong (wheels come off a huge deal just before signing, promised actors or directors fail to materialize...), projects where I did the work but didn’t get paid, or where I was brought on board and then got fired/ghosted unreasonably or for no reason at all, or sometimes (mortifyingly) for quite good reason. And let's not forget how, as what could seem a very pointed shot across my bow when my career-vessel was just pulling out of port, half the print run of that very-much-buzzed-about debut novel wound up being pulped in the warehouse because another, far better-established writer's new book needed the pallet space that mine had been taking up. (insert rueful smile here) Believe me, entropy is running, and will catch up with you one way or another. So make yourself as ready for it as you can.
I don't mean to increase your anxiety. Yet that said: you're preparing to enter a business in which, for a freelancer, at least some level of anxiety is more or less part of the basic ground of being. You are going to have to develop ways of dealing with the everyday forms of that to keep it from routinely derailing your work.
I find it helps a little if you can come to consider this as a modern form of Going On An Adventure. Good things will happen; bad things will happen; and all of these will be in service of building your career. Think of yourself as being on a quest.
Your job now becomes the business of suiting up with the best equipment and advice you can find (ideally not from outliers like me). The web is full of useful pages on subjects such as how to query and how to find an agent.
Here are links to some.
Compare these resources one against another to see how their different kinds of advice seem to stack up, and which ones are the most congenial for you.
Then use this data to start drawing your personal roadmap across the terrain. Get as clear as you can in your own mind about what you're trying to get out of being in this business: what kind of writing you want to do and what results you want to produce. Then set out, redrawing your road map as necessary as you keep moving forward through the new terrain.
And I wish you good fortune on the journey! (Because luck, as you can see from the above, can definitely be part of this... but fortune favors the prepared.)
Meanwhile, get out there and have a blast. :)
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lovebugism · 1 year
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how about "are you comfortable?" with stevie and he's just being really needy with reader
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✶ ┄ PUPPY !
summary: steve isn't just needy, he's downright insatiable, and he'll take you any way you’ll let him. pairing: sub!steve harrington / f!reader word count: 1.5k warnings: sub steve always needs his own warning, dry humping, r calls steve "puppy" once (spoiler alert: he likes it), smut 18+ a/n: thanks for your request, anon, and for giving me more oppurtunities to write sub!stevie <3
( BLURB SLEEPOVER ) | ( MASTERLIST )
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Steve Harrington was a sweetheart — the sweetest of sweethearts.
All boyfriends were supposed to be nice, but he was perfect and then some. He’s made of marshmallow fluff, all gooey and saccharine. He loves you so much that it’s got him dripping honey.
It’s sweet. He’s sweet. But sometimes all of his mushy goodness is suffocating.
He’s always needing you. It’s like if he’s not touching you, he might die. Most of the time, it’s purely innocent — a hand on your back to keep you close, an arm around your shoulder to press you into him, fingers spread on your thigh to keep you tethered to him. 
But there’s always another side of that coin, a far dirtier side, that has him rutting up against you like a damn dog.
Freshly showered and winding down for the night, you lie in the middle of your shared bed on your stomach while you flip through a too big novel.
Steve watches you from the doorway. His step stutters when he catches sight of you. It leaves him frozen where he stands. 
Your underwear isn’t anything special, a cotton number he’s seen about a thousand times before, that leaves more of your ass covered than not. Your tank top is possibly older and decorated with a number of dubious stains you've never been able to get out.
And it's not like you’re in the sexiest of positions either, posed in wait for his arrival. It's quite the opposite really. You’re lazing and in your own world, totally sucked into the book you’re reading.
He might've been offended that you didn’t wait for him to come around so you could read to him like you always do, if he weren’t so incredibly hard at the sight of you.
Steve isn’t quite sure how someone could be doing something so mundane, at their most comfortable and more at peace than he’d ever seen, and still be so goddamn beautiful.
It’s just not fair.
He clamors on top of you without saying a word. He presses his nose to your neck, sprinkling tiny kisses onto your skin, while he grinds his hard cock into your ass.
His sweatpants-covered hips drag into you all slow — the feeling makes him exhale sharply in the place of a low moan. Chill bumps erupt at your skin, at the feeling of his warm breath fanning across your shoulder, and the gratification of your boy finding you so irresistible.
It’d be too easy, to roll over and let him take you like he wants. You don’t give in so freely. You rarely ever do. Instead, you take to teasing him, mocking him, because you know he likes that just as much as you simply giving yourself to him. 
“Are you comfortable?” you monotone as he rests the bulk of his weight on you.
“C’mon, baby, please,” he all but begs. “I’ll even take a handjob, I just— fuck, you don’t know how hard I am right now.”
“I think I have an idea,” you scoff out a laugh and flip the page, trying your best to ignore the throbbing cock he presses against your ass. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”
“I just love you,” he mumbles into your neck, punctuating his admission with a kiss.
“Yeah?”
“Mm-hmm…”
You laugh softly to yourself, several exhales through your nose, at the way he ruts into you all needy.
His cock is still prevalent through the thin layers both of you wear, warm and so incredibly hard. You still feel so much of him despite the fabric that separates you. You can tell he went without underwear for the night. It makes the raging hard-on he has for you, that much more prevalent.
It makes you wonder if it hurts. If the stiffness brings about a throbbing and ravenous ache.
“Flattery goes a long way with me, Harrington,” you purr.
You feel his smile contort against the skin of your neck, all proud of himself because he thinks he’s gotten you to concede. “Yeah?” he mumbles before pressing another wet kiss to your shoulder.
“Yep,” you assure. You turn your neck to look at him over your shoulder and it forces him to leave the refuge of you. He’s lit up with anticipation. You’ve got a playful glint in your eye that excites him. “So you can do whatever you want—”
“I like the sound of that.”
“—But you have to keep your pants on.”
His hips still. The smirk on his face washes away like an ebbing tide. His face contorts into a look of confusion — bushy brows furrowed, nose scrunched, and lips quirked. “…What?”
“I’m gonna let you come,” you shrug.
“But I have to… keep my pants on?”
“Yes, Stevie,” you affirm, almost stern as you arch a brow at him. “Do you understand?”
He swallows thickly, adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, then nods with wide, twinkling eyes. “Yeah,” he mumbles before clearing his throat. “I understand.” 
When he humps his cock into your ass again, it takes little time for him to pick up the pace. He was needy before, heavy with his want for you, but now he’s downright desperate. He grinds his hips into you, holding himself up on his forearm — next to the elbow that props up your chin — while he lets out pitiful little whines into your skin. 
He might not be pleasuring you just now, but a similar feeling swirls in the pit of your stomach. You’ll always feel satisfied when he begs for you.
“Fuck, honey, you feel so good,” he murmurs, breathless. “Love you so fuckin’ much.”
“I’m almost done with this chapter. If you’re not finished by the time I’m done, you’ll have to get yourself off, ‘kay?” you warn with a voice that’s far too sweet. You know he’ll be done by the time you’re finished reading. Besides, it’s not like any of the words are sticking in your head, anyway.
But Steve likes a challenge. Give him a time constraint and an obstacle he has to get over, and he’s golden. Your subtle threat, the way you act like you’re not as into it all as he is — like your panties aren’t soaking wet — just makes him need to come more.
“I’m almost there, baby,” he promises under his breath. “I’m almost there— almost there—”
He mumbles it to himself over and over again as pleasure takes over every fucking lobe of his brain. His free hand tightens its grip on your clothed hip, keeping you nice and still for him while he pathetically ruts his weeping, throbbing cock into you.
His wet, pink lips part to let out every heavy breath and low moan. You wish you could see him right now — the glazed look in his honey-tinted eyes before they squeeze shut tight as his orgasm so quickly approaches.
You know that he’s close by the way his hips stutter against you, like he’s fighting to keep his rhythm as his impending orgasm threatens to take control of his body. His sweats go damp and sticky when several loads of come spit from his cock without much warning.
A whine escapes from the depths of his throat and he leans more of his weight against you, still warm and comforting as heavy as he is. His heaving moans are heaven in your ears and stars against your skin.
Steve stays like that, pressed so fully against you, while pathetic whines spill from his mouth. Even on the comedown of his orgasm, just having you so close makes him feel high.
His head is stuck in the clouds until he hears you laughing. Soft, hearty little giggles spill from your mouths — muffled at first like he’s stuck underwater, until he comes back to reality.
Then he’s laughing right along with you, lazy exhales at how good he feels just now.
You shift under him, silently asking for him to roll off of you, and he abides — still so obedient for you. You sit up on your side as he flops onto his back. Your eyes have a hard time leaving his fucked out face, all flushed and glowing red, to catch that darker gray stain at his crotch. Both sights are equally as beautiful. You don’t know which to gape at.
“Was it worth it?” you ask him with an arched brow.
“Every damn second,” he pants with a sloppy grin.
“Good,” you smile back at him, pressing a too innocent peck to his warmed, freckled cheek. “Now go get cleaned up. You’re a fucking mess, babe.”
Steve eyes flit from your face to the wet spot spreading on his gray sweatpants. He’s embarrassed, almost, feeling like a teenager who’s got the stamina of a goldfish. But he’s more so terrified of leaving this room.
To get to the bathroom, he’ll have to walk by Robin and Eddie’s rooms, and he’d rather die than run into them in a pair of come-stained pants.
“How am I supposed to walk out like this?” he wonders, bewildered.
You shrug in response. “You’re the one who made the mess. You figure it out, puppy,” you tease innocently, though you don’t miss the way Steve briefly perks up at the use of the pet name. The feeling of anticipation swims in your stomach all over again.
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itsmoonpeaches · 4 months
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On Medusa from the PJO TV Show: A Survivor and complicated antagonist
I'm not the only one obsessed with the version of Medusa and I know it.
She's beautiful, she's eerily calm, she says, "I am a survivor," and you feel that. She is the symbol for women out there who don't want to be bullied anymore, and more recently Medusa's head has become a symbol of women fighting back with the #MeToo movement.
But I'm not writing this to talk about Medusa as the Gorgon from the Greek mythos. I'm here to talk about how she was written in the PJO TV Show. So let's get into it, shall we?
Note that some ideas from this meta are expanded on from this Variety article where the writers of the show and Rick and Rebecca Riordan, speak about the changes they made from the book to show adaptation.
A victim of an abuse of power
In the Variety article, Rick says, “There are many versions from ancient times of what happened in that temple with Medusa and Poseidon and Athena. Who’s to blame? Who’s the abuser? What’s the real story? It’s fiction, but it certainly is important to acknowledge that there is abuse involved here. Abuse of power.”
Like in all Greek myths, there is never exactly one "correct" version of a story. In many, Medusa and Poseidon basically have a one-night stand. In some, they have a mutual affair. In others, it's Poseidon who seduces Medusa into Athena's temple, and in others still, Medusa is a victim of assault.
What most versions of the myths do have in common is the fact that Medusa and Poseidon had some sort of relationship that produced at least two children (Pegasus and Chrysaor). Most versions (both Greek and Roman) also depict her as a tragic figure and a beautiful maiden.
Athena is involved in earlier myths as the goddess who put her head onto the shield that averts the gaze of enemies. In later myths, she is the one who curses Medusa to transform into what we know of her today after Athena discovers her relationship with Poseidon on her sacred ground. Poseidon, of course, gets let off scot-free.
Depending on how you read into the myths, there could be a variety of different things happening here. So, I like what the show did. They made it vague enough that this is still middle-grade level like the books, but they also expanded on what the books couldn't because they are originally written from 12-year-old Percy's POV.
They basically keep nearly all aspects of the story and original myth possible. But in the end, Medusa is indeed a victim of abuse.
Her real curse is not that she is hideous and turns people who look into her eyes into stone, but that she is made invisible by the curse and she is not heard. Not one person can look her in the eye and live to tell the tale. She can't show her beauty, so she chooses to live with what she has. Even with a slanted hat covering half her face and eyes, you can tell she's statuesque (see what I did there?) and a beauty.
She chooses elegant clothes, pretty jewelry, a neat hairstyle, a hat that accents what you can see of her features, and red lipstick that makes you think she could be desirable.
But it doesn't change the fact that Poseidon had his way with her, told her he loved her, and then she was the only one left with the punishment for what happened between them. Athena cursed her out of anger.
Medusa revered Athena who is a virgin goddess, and of course, Athena would be upset when one of her devout followers is suddenly not a virgin too. Yet, Medusa mentioned earlier in her narrative in episode 3 that Athena never answered her prayers at all and never gave an indication that she was listening. So out of all the times she pays attention, it's to curse her for something she doesn't like?
Athena paid attention to Medusa when it was convenient to her and Poseidon left her when Medusa was no longer useful to him after she was cursed.
This version of Medusa is left to the wolves to defend herself and live with herself, a victim of abuse of power from multiple ends and from gods she thought she could trust.
Medusa and Sally Jackson
What I found the most interesting in episode 3 was the fact that Medusa sprinkles the seeds of doubt into Percy's mind that maybe the loving relationship he thought his mother had with Poseidon was not what actually happened.
In the Variety article, Rebecca Riordan says, that Percy has to think ‘What has my father done? Has he changed? How do I see myself in relationship to that?' while Rick says that “Percy can only judge his father by the wreckage he has left behind."
The fact of the matter is, Percy is 12. The book series is for a middle-grade audience, and the show is too. So people out there thinking "This could've been darker!" need to calm down and take a back seat. The books always did a good job of introducing deeper, darker topics to children. The show should stick to the same strategy to keep what made the original story so good.
But, what the show does here is make you think. If Poseidon could abandon Medusa like that, use her like that, then maybe Sally Jackson was abandoned and used too.
Her show story does a good job of connecting two women who had a relationship with the same god, connecting women who thought they could trust someone but were left to fend for themselves.
Look at where Sally Jackson is now at this point in the story. Not only was she forced to marry Gabe Ugliano to use his stench to protect her son who attracts monsters, but he is an abusive man both to her and to her son at least verbally. In the books, it's not suggested until the very end of The Lightning Thief that Gabe has been hitting her outside of Percy's POV. I've seen people forget that and immediately write off that Gabe wasn't "abusive enough". C'mon people. Just because Sally fights back verbally doesn't mean he wasn't still abusive in his actions in the first two episodes. Even if they decide not to suggest that he was also physically abusive to Sally, doesn't make him sneakily using her phone, demanding to ask why she has to use his car, and demanding for her to make food for him any less abusive.
Sally chose that life because the most important person in the world to her is her son, and even though Gabe is a total jerk, she convinced herself that she could take what he gave her because what he did to her was better than having her son being hunted and maimed by a bunch of Greek monsters because of who he is. To top it all off, now Hades stole her away into the Underworld.
Medusa, in a similar way, was left to fend for herself. She chose what was best for her, and lived in her new form because she could not change what had happened. She wants to save Sally too because she sees Percy as a boy whose mom was abused the same way she was.
Medusa's brilliant role as an antagonist
Now we're here, the main reason I wanted to write this giant thing. I saw a weird take on Twitter saying that Medusa in the show should not have been beheaded like she was in the books because then that negates her whole story and what she stood for.
Well, in my opinion, that is a shallow take on what the show's Medusa is trying to portray.
Medusa is an antagonist. In the myths, she is an antagonist. In the books, she is an antagonist. In the show, she is an antagonist. She gets in the way of Percy's path for his quest, she suggests that he doesn't need Annabeth and Grover, and that only she can save his mom with him.
In both the books and the show, there are hundreds of statues of people she had turned. Sure, some of them could've been attacking her, but there were a lot of people there who were victims too. I'm sure that screaming lady didn't mean to do something to Medusa, and Grover's Uncle Ferdinand? He was the only statue who appeared calm and collected and there was nothing to suggest that he was out to get her. He was only on his journey to find Pan.
Medusa has killed people, and innocent people at that. For thousands of years. And not just people she had to, and not a small amount. Then, she suggests that Percy let her kill his two friends who are children.
To her, Annabeth and Grover are dead weight because of their loyalty to the gods. Annabeth wants to be noticed by her mother. Grover wants to make sure the world doesn't end. I mean, they all don't want the world to end but I digress.
Medusa hates the gods. She wants to save a woman who is like her. She will protect that woman's child. But she will do anything and destroy anyone to get that end result.
A victim is still a victim even if they are a villain or an antagonist. Her methods don't make her any less of a victim of abuse. But that doesn't mean they are right.
So yes, when Percy runs away from her to keep his friends alive and she takes off her hat to stalk them around the room to turn them into stone, she does indeed need to be beheaded. There is literally no other way to defeat her. They can't look at her or they die. So they have to make her stop moving.
Unfortunately, a person like her with deep and complicated motivations would never change their mind when they feel they are betrayed. So, Percy did what he could to protect himself and his friends from dying.
Still, it's a poetic death as it is in the books. He mails her head to the gods and mentions Athena specifically for her punishment of Medusa. He's impertinent.
Medusa didn't deserve to be punished. But it's been millennia and she made her choices. The abusers did not get the punishment they deserved, but maybe now they will. Medusa's head in her (temporary) death, will be a testament to her victory, but also a testament to her downfall.
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cherrygukkie · 7 months
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Late Night Encounters| jjk
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Summary: A student-athlete like you, who flies under the radar, never expected to become enemies with someone like Jeon Jungkook, an annoying talkative senior who goes out of his way to make your life a living hell. But what happens when your rivalry takes some twists and turns, and your hate turns into something else? Will getting too close to Jungkook reveal a side of him that you’ve never seen before?
Word Count: 5,2k
AN: Hey folks! This is something I came up with in the middle of the night, so I hope that you all enjoy this as much as I am currently planning all of this out! :) But yeah, I don't have anything else to say, but to enjoy this first snippet of Jk and OC's relationship. Love yah mwahh!!
Props to @dollfaceksj for beta-reading thank you <3
READ: (Pls comment and give feedback it's all welcomed. It'll help me stay motivated.)
Lmk if there are any errors please and thank you.
••••••••
Thursday, 7:03 a.m.
It’s early in the morning, and you know what that means…. School time!!!
Yay… school.
You’re currently at school, exhausted. That wasn’t out of the ordinary though. No matter how much sleep your body gets you still end up tired. At this point, you've accepted the fact that you’re a sleepy girl.
Putting on your beats, you turn the music volume to the max. Hopefully, music can give you a little energy and help you get through the day because you need it.
Surprisingly Yoongi or Taehyung weren't at school around this time. Usually, the three of you arrived at the same time, if something came up you’d receive a message from either one of them. They didn’t tell you yesterday or text you, so you check their location.
When you do it shows that they are on the road, moving in the same area. 
They were driving somewhere…
The direction they are going is further away from the school. You being curious, you took it upon yourself to see what’s up with them.
Letting out a yawn, you call Yoongi, and not even a second later, he declines.
What the fuck?
You decide to shoot Taehyung a message since they’re together and he responds…
You: um why aren’t you or Yoongi at school?
You: I see that you guys are driving and I feel left out.
Taehyung : Sorry Y/N. I was supposed to tell you, but It slipped my mind.
Yeah, just like how my foot is gonna slip up both their asses.
Taehyung: We got caught up in some last-minute shit.
•okay, but my question is still unanswered.
You: where are you guys going though???
Read.
Taehyung left you on read along with him being secretive about his location… that’s unusual and weird.
Extremely weird…
“Such shitheads for ditching me,” you mutter, shoving your phone in your pocket. Great… Now today is going to be the definition of boring without dumber and dumbest.
You open your locker, replacing your books with your skateboard. The bell is going to ring shortly, so you start walking to class. You slam your locker shut, striding down the halls with the volume of your headphones sounding out everything and everyone, just how you liked it.
Your face was frowned up until ETA by NewJeans came on. A smile creeps onto the corner of your mouth as angelic voices enter your ears and a flicker of amusement manages to lighten your mood.
“what’s your ETA!” “what’s your ETA!”
Just when your grumpy spirit is starting to lift, someone swoops in from the right, snatching your headphones off your ears. The music is gone and the little smile you grew shattered into a million pieces.
You freeze, taken back by his audacity. “You did not… just take my headphones.” 
You turn around to see the one and only, Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook who surprisingly wasn’t wearing his usual Calvin Klein attire. Instead, he had on a pair of distressed jeans with a soft blue zip-up jacket.
The way he has his jacket off his shoulder is so baby girl of him
Jungkook smirks, holding the headphones out of reach. “New Jeans? Really?” He could hear even while they were hanging above your head. That’s how loud the music was.
“Give it back!” you demand, through a big jump to retrieve your headphones. Each time you jumped, his hand went higher and higher. Jungkook enjoyed watching you struggle, especially if it’s because of him.
“You don’t seem like the type to listen to New Jeans,” he says, ignoring the fact that he’s holding your property. “They’re so uplifting and joyful… and you-” Jungkook pauses, eyeing you down. You could sense the insult coming.
You talk over him, not letting him finish. “Why are you doing this?”
It’s too early to play his stupid games. He couldn’t wait until Chemistry class? 
“Just doing my daily dose of annoying you.” He clicks his tongue, dangling the headphones with his index finger. 
“Well, congratulations, Jungkook. You’ve succeeded once again. Now give me back my headphones and leave me alone,” you demand again, reaching up only for him to hold them higher.
At this damn point, your arms are moving in the air desperately like a lunatic. This is taking place in the middle of the halls… in front of people. 
How fucking embarrassing is that?
ugh, I hope that people don’t think I’m a pushover now…
You raise your voice, walking up to Jungkook. “Give me my shit back!” 
The anger in your voice draws attention in the halls. Right after you speak, multiple eyes burn into your soul. You look around and people are staring at the both of you with concerned faces. Part of you wanted to tell them to mind their shit and keep it pushing, but you take a breath, taking a chill pill.
 “Jungkook,” you say through gritted teeth, bringing your hands together. “Can I have my beats back? They’re too expensive to be played around with.” You swallow all the bass in your tone.
“What’s the magic word?” Jungkook teases, exposing the dimple on his right cheek. Beasty, huh? you've never understood why he gave you such a nickname in the first place. Assuming it was an insult, you always ignored it.
Today wasn’t the day for his stupid games, he for sure wasn’t getting a please out of you.
You blink constantly, accepting your defeat. “You know what… I’m not doing this shit today. You can keep them, you jerk.” Walking away from Jungkook, you try to speed walk to class in need to get away from him. You’re already dealing with limbs that could barely function and heavy eyelids, you aren't in the mood to play.
Searching for peace didn't last how you wanted. Jungkook catches up with you, refusing to leave you alone. 
"Careful there or you'll drop your books."
You look over at Jungkook who was keeping up with your speed. “I hate you.”
A little laugh sneaks past his lips before speaking, “No, you don’t.”
He had the presence of a fly, no matter how much you shoo him away he always finds his way back.
Why do you despise him with a passion?
Why is Jeon Jungkook your nemesis?
The reason behind it is a story. It started when you ran into him on a chaotic evening at the worst moment possible, just when you thought the hole you were in couldn't get any deeper...it did.
*Flashback!*
4 months ago...
Friday evening, 7:37 p.m.
Stuck in the middle of traffic, you’re repeatedly hitting crazy turns, left, right, left, left, right, right, nonstop. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for missing the bus and being an irresponsible dumbass.
Yeah, it's true...you were late to a game. It's not all your fault, though. To be fair it was a last-minute one that the coach signed everyone up for. Earlier today, you had to stay after school to figure out some arrangements with your teachers for your grades. It was either that or nothing because bad grades equal no volleyball.
All work was uncompleted, besides Mrs. Parker's class. That was your favorite class and you had an A+, so you didn't have to visit her. You had to visit everyone else and it didn’t go as planned. Besides giving you an extension on the work, you were assigned a tutor for the next 2 months.
Your schedule was dedicated to volleyball, therefore you had no free days unless it was the weekend, and as much as you didn't want to sacrifice it, you had to.
Girl, your grades were crying.
You need to maintain them to keep volleyball in your life. Today was Saturday and you decided to start. It wasn't a problem because you had no plans at all… well that’s what you thought. 
You put your phone on do not disturb, just to concentrate, not to ignore anybody.
You just needed your mind to be fixated on school for once, not a ball, not a net, or a gym.
🏐🥊
During those long hours of catching up and studying you weren't aware of the messages in your group chat. You packed up all your things and you went directly to your messages to see 100+ texts from the group chat.
You open it thinking it's about the next practice or probably not expecting a message like this.
Coach [: "I'm sorry to spring this on you girls on such short notice, but I received an email from a coach from another district about playing against his team because apparently, the other team forfeited before the game.
Coach [: I agreed to it thinking maybe you girls could use the extra practice, you know? explore other teams and their ways of playing."
Coach [: "The school is far, so I recommend you gear up and be at the gym by school at 6:20 because the drive is longer than 30 minutes and we all need to ride the bus together, as a team."
Coach [: "There's no reason why any of you should be late because I'm texting you a couple of hours before, so please be on time okay you all know how I am about tardiness."
The more we are late the more we condition....
Coach [: "Okay, but that's all. I'll see you all in a bit, be ready!"
You take your phone off Do not disturb, then you exit the building, phone, and bag in hand checking your missed calls,
Reading that you had numerous missed calls from the coach, you call her and she answers immediately. The phone barely got through the first ring. You opened your mouth to speak, but her lecture overpowered you. "Y/N where the hell are you? the game is about to start!"
You're so stuck you couldn't give a proper answer so all you say is, "Huh?" the confusion in your response made her angrier.
"You are late Y/N! You were supposed to be on the bus an hour ago!"
Coach sent that message at 3:36 and when you checked the time it was 7:15 p.m. It was like glass shattering when your heart sank realizing you lost track of time. Your phone shook in your trembling hands, too stunned to speak.
It's been that long?!?
She tells you that the game has already started and that you need to be on your way now, especially with you being one of the main players you were needed no matter what, or the rotation would be switched.
It was still the beginning of the season, so people were only familiar with their positions. Having rotations changed and adjusted to something last minute during a game is a total mess. A rule in volleyball is if you were out of rotation they deduct points, and that was unacceptable.
"C-coach, I'm sorry-" you tried to sound sincere with a pounding heart and unsteady voice. "I'll get there as fast as possible." She ends the conversation by hanging up the phone.
Well goddamn.
Then and there you knew you were "Fucked." you muffled, in your hand. "I am so fucked...."
You start running as fast as you can and thankfully the dorms aren't too far from the school, so you arrive shortly. You swung the door open and rushed to your room not greeting your roommate, but that didn't matter.
She wasn't the nicest...
When you get in your room you start tossing things everywhere trying to find your jersey. That's what you get for misplacing important shit, that's what your mom would tell you after you'd lost something and it played in your mind on a loop.
At some point, you found everything and shoved it in your bag racing out the door to the parking lot. And there you are speeding recklessly in your car, slamming your fist on the horn honking at cars, cutting them off doing all you can to escape from this major traffic jam.
You weave through traffic pressing on the gas pedal, “Come the fuck on…” you yell, feeling your frustration build up. “Can these cars go any slower?!? I’m almost there!”
Why does everything go wrong on inconvenient days…?
Finally, you arrive at the stadium, and you pull into the parking lot and your eyes dart immediately to a good spot in between two cars surprisingly in front of the entrance. There were a shit ton of people here...
You turn the wheel parking your car thinking none of it, then suddenly there is this noise you heard. In the mise of hearing that sound, your whole car jolted back from the impact, even though it was the slightest tap.
Leaning forward a bit, you see the space you have in front of you and your jaw drops in disbelief. "Please no...." This could not be happening right now.... you're already in trouble for being an hour late and now you have to deal with this.
To fix your parking, you back out and properly pull in between the two cars. After, you take a moment to close your eyes and cross your fingers hoping that the damage wasn't too severe. Your pockets had flies coming out of them…. you couldn't afford to fix a damn car.
Let's pray that there was nothing there and you could move on with life, peacefully. You got out of the car to check yours first. It was in perfect condition and not a single mark was on it, maybe that was a sign of something good.
You rushed to the back of the black car to confirm that the crunching noise you heard was in fact the bumper that was dented up, terribly. The back of the vehicle even had scratches and the black paint was scraped off.
It was bad...
"Oh my god..." you mouthed nervously. The car did look fancy and highly expensive. It didn't take long for you to realize that the car you hit was a Mercedes-Benz, but not only that it was the newest version. "You've got to be fucking kidding me...." you screamed, burying your face in your palms.
How the hell were you going to pay for the damages on this car, a damn Mercedes?!? To be fair, you weren't poor, you just didn't have money like that, or you didn't have any on you. And bothering your parents with this rough situation was the last you wanted to do. They were already helping you pay for volleyball camp, so there was no need to shake them for more money.
Your hands found their way to your head gripping your hair, stressfully. "Ugh, I should've been on the damn bus!" you yell again, feeling stupid. You wanted to punch yourself in the face for the rookie mistake.
Too busy pacing back and forth and complaining you didn't notice that there wasn't a single soul in the car. By now someone would've come out to give you shit for hitting their vehicle.
You instantly got an idea.
And that idea was to walk away and pretend nothing happened.
Why not? nobody was outside, nobody saw you and nobody was inside the car meaning there's no proof of you hitting their car attempting to park.
That intense feeling wore off and your body relaxed a little. You look both ways before crossing the street.
Thank god, you didn't have to deal with a rich bitch or asshole who'd exaggerate the problem like the car was their child and make you pay more than you have to. You sigh, walking away, ready to enter the school and deal with the coach because that was next on the checklist.
You stuff your hands in your pockets, making your way towards the entrance, until you hear something. That something was the sound of a car door getting slammed violently.
"What the hell? are you fucking kidding me?!?" the mysterious man shouted. He sounded upset—a more fitting word, enraged. "Hey, you! black sweatshirt."
Yep, that was you. A girl in a black sweatshirt who was trying to ditch the situation.
"Hm?" you slowly turned around as if you were innocent.
Your guilty eyes met his deep brown cold ones. He looked very pissed right now. "Hm?" the mysterious boy mocked your act. "You fucked up my shit!" he pointed to the poor bumper.
You nibble on your lip, caught up and no he wasn't wrong that's exactly what you were going to do.
"What?” You fix your thick frames. "Dude, what are you talking about? I didn't fuck up anything. I was only walking out here getting fresh air, that's all..."
"Oh really?" He took a step closer moving under the moon. It was easier to make out the details. Soft dark curly long hair, muscular figure, piercings, tattoos.... a dangerous combination a guy could have.
Damn.
He wore a Calvin Klein denim jacket with a matching shirt and bold thick platformed boots. He looked like your typical bad boy or fuck boy, you choose. You’d never seen him before, ever.
You reacted, backing away from his unnecessary step. "Yes?"
"You are lying and you fucking suck at it.”
You tried flipping the script. “That’s what you think.”
“It’s what I know and now you’re starting to piss me off.”
"Okay, shit!" Your arms slap your sides, defeated. "I hit your car, okay? But it was a mistake. I was rushing to get to my game and I was going to leave because I needed to avoid this. After all, I'm already late and my coach is upset with me." Listening to you, his eyes were rolled to the back of his head, tired of hearing your sob story. "It was seriously an accident, I misjudged the distance between the cars," you continued. "I'm fucking sorry, okay?"
He was able to see that you were going through a tough time, but did he care? Hell no. He wasn't having any of that. For fucks sake, you hit his car and that's all he cared about, not some girl who's using being late as an excuse to recklessly drive.
“Do you know how much it’s going to cost me to get fixed?”
"No, I don't, but I do know that it's going to be pricey and trust me if I had the money I would pay for the expenses, but I don't have much money right now..."
"Oh, great. Miss careless driver not only hits my car, but she can't afford to fix it. Just what I fucking needed today."
You continued to apologize and reason with him, but he cut you off. "You expect me to accept your apology? That doesn't change the fact you hit my car. I could care less about a fucking apology right now.”
Now... it was bothering you a little. Despite the situation, this guy was being a dickhead.
Did you hit his car? Yes, you did and he has every right to be angry, but there should be some way that this can be resolved respectfully without being an asshole. And that's what he was doing, he's raising his voice, expecting you to stand there like a fool.
He had no idea who he was talking to. You frowned, no longer feeling ashamed or apologetic for hitting his car.
"No, it isn't but I'm sure that if you can afford a Mercedes then I'm sure you have the money to fix the damn bumper yourself," you argued.
"You're right," he chuckled, rubbing his forehead. "I can afford to get it fixed. I don't know why I thought that someone...." His voice trailed off as he faced your car. ".... someone who drives a 2010 Ford Taurus could even pay for a single scratch on my car."
broke bitch alert!!!
He turned around, lifting his brows, waiting for a response from you. The disrespect was too real and you blurted out an aggressive, “Fuck you.”
He was seriously calling you broke…
“And fuck you for hitting my car.” The guy got closer, narrowing his eyes at you as if you were familiar somehow. “You...” His voice trailed off from looking at your sweatshirt.
He got distracted from the words on it. It had your team and university labeled on it.
“You don’t even go to this school, do you?” he asks.
The mysterious boy’s question threw you off. Your eyes darted everywhere before talking. "No...?" you replied lost. "Why the hell does it even matter?"
“I knew you seemed familiar.” He nodded, getting struck by a moment of realization. "You're that one volleyball player who plays at ____ university?" He asked, reading your shirt. "And you're Y/N, right?"
“Yeah, why?”
"You know what-" he smacked his lips. "I'll let this slide this time one time.” You wanted to say thanks, too bad part of you was still heated from the argument, but how did he know your name?
You watched him walk to his car, and then he opened the door. “Just stay the hell out of my way, got it?"
He didn’t have to tell you twice.
"More than happy too,” you shout.
Once he got into his car, you turned around and ran inside the school. heading straight to the gym. You saw your team on the court, playing hard in an intense rally as you walked in. There was a shit ton of people cheering, yelling and screaming.
The noise was a mixture of good and bad…
You glanced at the score and thankfully, it was a tie. Coach gave you a deadpan as you walked towards her with guilt. Like you were expecting, she scolded you or whatever, and then she called a time-out.
All the girls left the court to get water and catch their breaths. Coach like usual, went over everyone's positions and dos and don'ts. While she did so, you slid out of your hoodie and sweatpants, revealing your jersey and shorts under.
You were prepared.
You scanned the crowds on your school's side and damn near everyone showed up to support the team. Some classmates waved at you and of course, you returned the kind gesture, glad to see them here to support the team.
Then randomly out of nowhere, you saw the same guy enter the gymnasium. He walks up a few flights of bleachers to sit with Jimin, Seokjin, and some other guy you don't know.
You assumed they were his friends.
When he's done greeting them... his attention landed on you, only you. It was weird after that interaction you had with him.
Looking away from him, you tried to regain your focus on the girls and coach.
"You all are doing great; except I need you all to make it harder for them. Let's stop fooling around and get in the lead and let it stay that way. Now that Y/N is here there's no more confusion now, the lineup is back to normal. Everyone with me?" Coach looked at everyone and they responded with nodding heads or a yes ma'am.
"Go out there and make them work, make them sweat."
The girls, including you, did your signature hand-stack a second after the buzzer went off. Girls that were benched sat down and girls that were on the court returned to the floor.
You simply do you and you get on the court to do what you're best at.
Play volleyball.
Things went back to normal, everyone played their hearts out, and in the end. You won the game.
But throughout the process, you couldn't help but notice his stares during the whole game. Anytime you'd look in his direction his focus was already on you.
The more you looked at him the more you remembered his identity. Now him knowing your name made sense because he attends your school along with him being in your 5th period.
Chemistry.
His name is Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook. He was a new exchange student from Seoul, but you couldn’t remember his major, although you did remember that he’s in a relationship with a girl named Alex who was well known at your school. Which is also how Jungkook was known in the first place.
It’s surprising because you hardly recognized him due to your head being on such a swivel.
It’s crazy that you've never even crossed paths before.
Ever since your first impression of Jungkook, the universe did its thing where he appeared everywhere now and you couldn’t escape him…
For some odd reason, he stood out even more because every day he went out of his way to bother you and piss you off, constantly. You haven't liked him since then and now you don't like him even more and couldn’t avoid him.
He didn't keep his word when you ran into him and he told you this exactly: "Stay the hell out of my way."
You’ve been stuck with this idiot ever since then.
*Present*
“Should I have taken your glasses instead?” he jokes, knowing damn well you are practically blind. You could see, but not too well.
You bark, “Why are you bothering me?”
“You should’ve never hit my car,” he says, words rolling off his tongue with a shrug.
“Oh, fuck off,” you aggressively tell him, wishing he’d disappear like dust into the air. 
How long was he going to hold you accountable for that? It’s been months.
“I’ll fuck off when you tell me what’s up with you. You seem more feisty than usual….” You immediately stop walking to glare at Jungkook who places his finger on his chin.  “Did one of your little boyfriends piss you off?”
He’s referring to Taehyung and Yoongi…
 “Wow… your detective skills are impressive,” you sarcastically praise him, dramatically rolling your eyes. “Is that all you got?”
Jungkook strokes his chin. “Am I right?”
“Those aren’t my boyfriends and you are wrong, but why do you even care about what’s going on with me?”
“I don't, I'm just curious,” He replies, sounding interested in the reason for your attitude. “And you look like shit and it’s not because of me… so I want to know.”
“Yeah, and I feel like it too,” You admit, feeling the sleepiness weigh you down. “Like always…” an exhausted sigh leaves your lips.
“Why?” he asks, headphones still in his possession.
Jungkook's questions make you rub your temples. “I’m exhausted and later today I’m gonna be busy. I have to attend the sports event. You know where all athletes are required to go?”
“I’m familiar.” Jungkook places the headphones around his neck. “They announced the dumb thing yesterday.”
“It’s not dumb, Jungkook,” you declare, folding your arms, giving him a deadpan. “It's an important and great opportunity for all college athletes. It only happens once a year.”
The sports event in the evening that you are attending is an event for all athletes. It allows students to meet other teams including school teams, professional teams and club teams.
It’s a chance to ask professional coaches and players for advice for future reference. Sometimes, people who are that good get recruited to play on a team outside of school with the professionals.
That happens to maybe a couple of students out of the multitude of schools put together. Being chosen is such an amazing opportunity, you get to be on national television, by any chance make history, and get paid tons and other good things, but you weren’t banking on it this year.  The odds of you getting scouted out were more than average, however, there are still things you’re insecure about when it comes to playing.
If anything, you need to secure those first before putting yourself out there, on national television.
“Beasty…” he says as if he had a question.
“Yes...?” you lazily nod slowly, watching his tongue glide over his teeth while smirking. 
He better not ask to be my additional person
Was he going to ask you if he could be your extra guest this evening? You’re currently figuring out who’s that going to be, but it damn sure wasn’t going to him.
“Will-”
You squint your eyes, hoping this isn’t leading to a proposal. “Wait… you aren’t suggesting that I should take you-”
 “No, I’m already going,” he claims, shaking his head. “And I have my date for this evening. I was just wondering about yours.”
Date, hm?
“So, who is it?” he asks, intrigued. 
It's purely silent for a moment, but you think of something quickly to save yourself from the embarrassment-
You quickly speak up. "I have a date,” you throw in proudly, ignoring how big of a lie that is. 
All you care about is covering your ass at the moment, not the backlash.
you’re such a fucking liar.
"Right, so who is it?"
You dodge his question. “Who's your date, Jungkook?” you ponder, pretending that your curiosity isn’t bouncing off the walls. You could feel it in your bones.
Jungkook isn't an athlete for the school, so that means the person he will be attending the event with is someone who goes to this school or someone else.
His face twitches with amusement. Seeing you in his business is a sight for him. “A very good friend of mine…”
“Is she on my team?” 
“I can assure you she isn’t.” Jungkook cackles before confirming, “Volleyball players aren’t my type.”
Then what is?
•that’s a relief
“She goes to another school anyway. I can guarantee that you don’t know her.” Jungkook watches your eyes drop from his face to his neck, then grips the headphones firmly.
“Enough about mine,” he says as he changes the subject unexpectedly. “Who’s your…” A smile plastered on his face. “Date. And don't answer my question with another question."
Hm, who is your date??
"It's a secret," you whisper, motioning sealed lips. "I'll reveal mine once I see yours.”
He gives a subtle shrug. "Fair enough," Jungkook says, nodding his head, acknowledging your agreement.
*Bell rings!* 
“Oh, won’t you look at that?” Placing your hands on your hips, you point out, “It's time to go class…so-” you stare at the headphones again. “Are you going to hand them over or what?” 
Jungkook looks down at your hand and laughs when you extend it out. “Should I?” He calmly asks, pushing your buttons. You start to tap your foot impatiently, exaggerating your irritation.
He thinks to himself for a moment, before his eyes drop to the beats around his neck, then shortly locks eyes with your frustrated ones. “Actually… I want to hang onto these for a little while. These will come in handy during my workout.”
“Fine! Keep them,” you express with a dramatic slap to the side of your thighs. “But don’t think that I won’t get them back.”
As the warning bell rings, you shoot him a withering glare and without wasting a single second, you storm off to class with only one particular thing on your mind… and it wasn’t the headphones…
Who is Jungkook's date?
To be continued…
♡︎Taglist is here, lovelies
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fourmoony · 5 months
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I had an idea that is a little specific and it's okay if you don't want to write it. English is not my first language and I come from a big family that likes to talk loudly/likes to party, but I am introverted. I imagined what it would be like for the reader to date James and they are going to spend time with her family, and he sees the reader in her comfort zone (speaking in her first language and with her family) and just discussing silly things (like rules of some game) and it's all very loud and funny. He sees how you make people laugh and even though he doesn't understand anything he has a smile on his face and admires you for getting to know this new side of you even though you’ve been dating for a while
I love your writing and your work is amazing ❤️
thank you for requesting lovely! and thank you so much for your kind words <3
james x f!reader | 720 | masterlist
You're in your element, James thinks.
He's seen you at your happiest, sure. He's seen you necking pints with Sirius and discussing books with Remus, he's seen the aftermath of girl's night with Lily, Marlene, Mary, and Dorcas. He's seen you laugh until your ribs hurt, commandeer your friends into playing your silly drinking games, dancing on tables, singing your heart out. You're a bubbly person, so obviously he's seen a handful of your happiest moments. But James doesn't think he's ever seen you in your element, at your most comfortable, your safest.
There's no hesitation in the way you speak to the group of your family members who are placed haphazardly around your mother's small kitchen. Even though he doesn't understand a lot of what you're saying, James can tell there's humour and wit, love and chagrin, and a little bit of sass to whatever it is you're saying. The conversation is moving too fast for him to pick up anything, because he's been learning small phrases here and there - it's important to him, and it makes you go all soft and gooey when he surprises you with a new phrase or loving comment. You're standing in the middle of the room, pointing at an older cousin of yours, an accusing look in your eye, but you're trying not to laugh.
It doesn't help that there seems to be eight other conversations happening at once, and James wonders how on earth your family ever get anything accomplished. You've been trying to organise a game of drunk UNO for the last fifteen minutes, but from what James has picked up on, no one can agree on house rules or game rules.
Your mother seems to be talking at you, fast and filled with love and humour and you're listening, but you're still talking at your older cousin, pointing at various people as you go, none of whom are listening, but are involved in their own, loud conversations.
If you weren't in the centre of all this, James would feel overwhelmed. Your family is loud and big and they don't seem to know what inside voices are. But it makes the final puzzle piece of you make sense. James understands, now, why you're always so willing to spend time with his overly large friend group, why you never hesitated or got nervous when you met him. You were born into this, and you handle it well.
He thinks you're beautiful every day, but right now you're ethereal. You're happy and comfortable and loud and obnoxious and James is pretty sure he's in love with you. The way you hold yourself, the way your words come from your mouth, fast and practiced and so fucking hot, it's all too much for James. He feels entranced by you, like you're some sort of sorcerer.
You return a few moments later, to his side, a happy smile on your face as everyone also collectively joins the table. James smiles bright when you press your lips to his cheek, rubbing your lipstick with your thumb. For a family who pick up on everything, James is surprised no one comments on your affection.
"Sorry," You murmur as you deal James his hand of UNO cards, "They can be a lot sometimes."
Your aunt - James thinks it's your aunt, anyway - yells at your youngest cousin, pointing here and there but he really cannot make out what he might be getting into trouble for. Eight conversations are happening around James as you deal the rest of the cards, there's people everywhere, but James wouldn't want to be anywhere else.
"Not at all," He assures you, a gentle hand on your thigh, "Seeing you in your comfort zone, so happy - I think? You were yelling a lot - makes me happy."
You huff a laugh, "He wouldn't admit that he cheats at UNO."
You give a disdainful look to your older cousin, who gives you a finger in return. You share a laugh with him after.
"You cheat at UNO." James reminds you, and while he wasn't aware the entire table was capable of having their own conversations and listening to his at the same time, he shouldn't be surprised.
Everyone erupts into chaos, and James knows he's in for it when he gets home.
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Key terms necessary for understanding the Israeli-Palestinian conflict : Part 1- Ancient Israel to the founding of modern Israel, Jewish terms
A/N: Hey! The results are in, and this is the topic my followers chose🫶 Writing this felt very much like retaking my high school history finals lol. Enjoy reading.
*These terms and definitions will be organized by topics, in chronological order. **If I have made a mistake or if you feel like I forgot something important- don’t hesitate to tell me in the comments. It is very hard to summarize thousands of years. *** Be respectful, I am human.
1. Key terms in Judaism and the connection to the land of Israel :
Israel and Judea- Were the two ancient Jewish kingdoms.
Zion ציון- Is one of the 70 biblical names for the city of Jerusalem. In fact, Jerusalem is referenced by this name in the bible over 150 times.
The word Zion is very much embedded into our culture: it is used in many prayers and Jewish texts written throughout Jewish history, songs etc.
Zion and the exile from it:
It is especially used when describing longing and the wanting of return to the land of Israel:
The most famous example that uses the word Zion is the biblical prayer from the book of Psalms, 137:
1 By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.
תהילים פרק קלז א עַל נַהֲרוֹת, בָּבֶל--שָׁם יָשַׁבְנוּ, גַּם-בָּכִינוּ: בְּזָכְרֵנוּ, אֶת-צִיּוֹן.
This verse is an example of the longing for Israel: as it was written after the exile to Babylon.
*Yes, the funky Boney M song is based on this Psalms verse :) Coming full circle- It is also used in the official hymn of the modern state of Israel, Ha'Tikva. התקווה, written by Naftali Herz Imber. This word might sound familiar to you, as it is also the origin of the word "Zionism".
Zionism- is the notion that the Jewish people deserve to have a state of their own.
Semite- is a term for people relating to, or constituting a subfamily of the Afro-Asiatic language family:
Semite languages- are a group of ancient languages, that originated around the same time, in Africa and the Middle East- aka the neighboring countries of Israel.
The Semitic languages are: Hebrew and its other ancient dialects , Arabic, Amharic, Aramaic and more. Unfortunately , most of these are extinct and no longer spoken.
The languages that are still spoken to this very day are : Arabic, Amharic and Hebrew.
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Some Hebrew Fun facts :
-While there are only estimated 8 million Hebrew speakers nowadays( most of them Israeli), Hebrew is considered a holy language in is spoken during prayer.
-Ancient Hebrew and modern Hebrew are very similar. So much so that if I were to time travel, I could have a decent conversation with my ancestors😊 (some pronunciations, grammar and words have changed, but it’s essential the same).
-Which cannot be done with Romanic languages or Celtic languages..
Antisemitism A\N: This word is getting its whole section because it simply deserves it. Nowadays, every time a Jewish person says something is antisemitic, they will usually be bombarded with mocking comments about how Jews like to call everything antisemitic. If had a nickel for every time I got those comments or an Arab person tried to troll me in the comment section by saying "I can't be antisemitic if I'm a Semite myself"... Let's make it clear (once again).
As I have explained before, the word Semite refers to a group of ethnicities. However, the word Antisemitic refers to Jewish hatred: "Antisemitism is hostility to, prejudice towards, or discrimination against Jews.[2][3][4] This sentiment is a form of racism,[5][6] and a person who harbors it is called an antisemite. Though antisemitism is overwhelmingly perpetrated by non-Jews, it may occasionally be perpetrated by Jews in a phenomenon known as auto-antisemitism ".
TLDR: Don't be a Jerk and use antisemitic rhetoric, blood libels, and stereotypes... You don't get to choose if something is antisemitic or not, Jews do.
2. Modern Israel and its founding
The Knesset- Is the Israeli parliament consisting of 120 members, elected democratically every 4 years. Usually- there have been 5 elections in the last 5 years. It also currently has 36 ministers. Yes, that _IS_ a lot.
Kibbutz- "Kibbutz is a community where people voluntarily live and work together on a noncompetitive basis. The first kibbutzim were organized by idealistic young Zionists in the beginning of the 20th century."
As time moved on, starting in the 80s, many Kibbutzim struggled financially and closed down. Today, there are 265 Kibbutzim left, with approximately 200,000 residents. Less than 20% of them are communal.
Unfortunately today, the word Kibbutz has a different connotation:
British mandate- Yep, they colonized us too lol. After the first world war, Between 1917 and May 1948 (Israel was founded literally as soon as the mandate ended).
Fun fact- Today, there are still a few rules left from the British mandate In Israel (Most of them were updated or changed by Israeli law makers after it's founding, usually by the Knesset and the Supreme court of justice).
“Homa U’migdal” (חומה ומגדל Tower and stockade)- During the British mandate, Jewish settlements were built overnight due to a legal loophole still valid from the Ottoman rule. The loophole prevented the British from destroying the new settlement: "Homa U'Migdal is the name of an operation that the leaders of the Yishuv initiated in Palestine, during which 52 new settlements were founded. This operation was a response of the Yishuv to the 1936-1939 Arab Revolt and the restrictions the Mandatory authorities placed, both on the building of new Jewish settlements, and on the amount of Jewish immigrants allowed into Palestine. The building of each settlement began at night. First, the guard tower and the defense stockade were set up, so the operation was named “Tower and Stockade”. According to an old Ottoman law that was still valid during the Mandate period, the destroying of a building was not allowed after the roof had been erected. For this reason the British did not destroy the "Tower and Stockade" settlements which had not received building permits. "
The 2-state solution - The notion that the solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict should be two states for two people- one for Arabs and one for Jews.
Balfour's declaration- is the famous letter sent by then-British foreign secretary Lord Balfour to Lord Rothschild in 1917. In the letter, Lord Balfour stated that the British Empire would support the forming of a Jewish Zionist state in the land of Israel.
Peel Commission- was a community created in 1936 by the British rule during their Mandate over Israel. As the name suggests, the head of the Commity was Lord Peel. A suggestion for a Two-state solution was suggested to representatives of both Jews and Arabs. Unfortunately, the Arabs have refused it.
1947 Partition Plan- A partition plan suggested by the UN, that included another draft of the two-state solution, with different borders. The Arabs have refused it once more.
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Declaration of Israel's Independence from Britain:
And so, as the British mandate ended on May 14th, 1948, the people's Council (that later served as the initial government of Israel) declared the formation of the modern state of Israel.
The day following the declaration, the Arabs in Israel revolted and with the help of 5 foreign armies that invaded Israel, tried to stop the formation of Israel: Iraq, Jordan, Egypt, Syria, and Lebanon.
They failed and Israel was formed.
You can watch David Ben Gurion, head of the council (and Israel's future first prime minister) declare its formation/independence here.
PS- this was the flag of Palestine before the current one:
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Sources:
-Semite languages pic: https://www.britannica.com/topic/Semitic-languages
-Kibbutz: * https://kibbutzulpan.org/about_kibbutz/ *https://www.hamichlol.org.il/%D7%A7%D7%99%D7%91%D7%95%D7%A6%D7%99%D7%9D_%D7%91%D7%99%D7%A9%D7%A8%D7%90%D7%9C (Hebrew)
-Homa U'Migdal" : http://www.zionistarchives.org.il/en/Pages/TowerStockade.aspx
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hellfirenacht · 3 months
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Wing Man Part 7
Fic Summary: Steve 'the Hair' Harrington is your best friend, and is constantly striking out. Sick of this, you two make a deal; you'll wing man for each other. Hooking Steve up with dates is easy, but he finds himself struggling to find you a date. At least, until Dustin starts talking about his new cool friend Eddie.
(1 2 3 4 5 6)
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Chapter Summary: Dustin spills the beans, and Wayne gives some advice.
A/N: Happy New Year! I ran out of steam there for a while but I am bursting with new inspiration and have a billion ideas for new and old fics! Thank you for your patience and support 💜
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The next night after dropping you off at home, there was a storm the likes of which Hawkins had never seen. Lightning lit up the sky through the night like a shitty rave, knocking out the power for Forest Hills Trailer Park for the better part of two days. It wasn’t until Saturday, when Eddie attempted to check in on Ronnie again, that he realized that their worn out phone had been completely fried. Shit.
Getting a new one was easier said than done, Eddie and Wayne had to pinch pennies this week after his uncle had been out of work a few days because of a cold, and having to replace a good chunk of groceries that had gone bad sitting in the dead fridge.
Sure, Bev had been nice enough to give Eddie a few extra shifts at the Hideout to help cover but that was a paycheck that wasn’t going to be in for another week. There was always his dealings, but he’d been keeping his head down after nearly having his stash blown by an over enthusiastic K-9 unit that, thankfully, was more interested in the jerky that Eddie had in his jacket.
For a week, he’d been without a phone now. Normally it wasn’t a huge loss, not many people actually bothered trying to call him anyway, and Wayne didn’t really socialize much working the night shift. But he missed Ronnie, and he really was stressing each day that went by that he didn’t call you. Eddie knew that whatever this was, he was probably already blowing it.
Tuesday rolled around again, and he hoped that you’d show back up to the Hideout. Jeff had even agreed to give most of the band a ride if Eddie agreed to haul their equipment and do all of the breakdown in case you needed another ride home. No such luck though, unbeknownst to him Keith had come down with the same cold that his Uncle Wayne had the week before, meaning you had to work a double.
It was now Friday, over a week since you’d written your name in the most stubborn permanent marker he’d ever come across. Your name still stained his skin in a faint and ugly shade of pea green. Eddie could now say your number by memory, despite never having punched in the digits once. If anyone at school had noticed that Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson had a girl's name on his arm, they didn’t say anything.
“Whose number is that?” Mike asked in the middle of a time out while Zach and Gareth were pouring over the rule book over the legality of a move that Eddie was sure was bullshit. So much for that.
Eddie’s head snapped over to the freshman while those in Corroded Coffin snickered and suddenly lost interest in the rules for the moment. With the candles and stage lights on, it was always warm in the Hellfire room, and Eddie had stripped his jacket giving his arms a chance to breathe while he guided the party on their next adventure.
It had also meant that the faded remains of your number was still visible, which he hadn’t thought much of until Mike had pointed it out.
“Yeah, Eddie, whose number is it?” Jeff snickered, which earned a hard look from Eddie that under any other circumstances would have shut Jeff up but in this case only made him laugh harder.
For a moment he debated internally about putting his jacket on, and telling them all to shove it. It was tempting, very tempting, but Eddie wasn’t a teen anymore. Hell, he had a good two to three years on most of the members in this club. Why should he be embarrassed because a cute girl had some sort of interest in him?
Because you’re blowing it by not being able to call her. He told himself.
Eddie then told the table about how you’d given him your number right before he dropped you off. How you’d been a perfect gentleman and hadn’t taken advantage of him or made any untowards moves to him. (Even if he had thought you almost did, but he kept that part to himself).
To his surprise, the ribbing was kept to a minimal. Without Eddie fighting against it, the group became less interested. Eddie’s love life was only of interest when it meant that the sheep could finally have some fun with the shepard.
That was going to be the end of it. Jeff had conceded that the rule they were looking up had been an old house rule from his middle school group that he had never questioned as not actually being accurate, and they were ready to move on. Eddie opened his mouth to guide the party to the next encounter-
“I thought you said you weren’t interested in her.” Dustin suddenly said. Eddie had thought that the shrimp had been suspiciously quiet for the past few minutes.
“If that was him not interested then I’m quitting Hellfire to be a cheerleader.” laughed Gareth.
“No one wants to see you in a miniskirt, man.” said Mike.
“They have guy cheerleaders!” protested Gareth. “I’d wear the pants.”
“That’d be a first.” ribbed Zack.
“Don’t you have to be crazy strong to be a cheerleader? Gareth, your strength stat sucks.”
“I haul my own drumset every week!”
“Can we get back to the game?”
“Eddie,” Dustin spoke up again. His brows were furrowed and he was messing with his pencil, the same way he did when someone in the party was about to do something that didn’t make any sense. “You did say you weren’t interested.”
So much for Eddie’s love life being of no interest, he now had a herd of sheep looking at him expectantly, no longer talking about Gareth possibly changing after school activities. He should ignore it, get everyone back on track, and lead them back into the Forbidden Caves where he was not tempted to throw a mimic in for messing with the flow of the game.
He should... but Dustin’s comment bugged him for some reason.
“I never said that.” Eddie said, looking at the kid.
“What? Yeah you did!” Dustin looked as shocked as Eddie felt. When had he ever said he wasn’t interested in you?
“Oh yeah, when?” Eddie crossed his arms and leaned back in his throne, his eyes narrowing.
“At the arcade!” Dustin sounded frustrated. “You told me that you didn’t want me introducing you to anyone when we were doing Hellfire related shit, and that you weren’t interested anyway.”
The warmth from the candles and stage lights were nothing compared to the heat of everyone’s eyes on him. What the fuck was Henderson even talking about?
Oh. Oh what the fuck?!
“Excuse me?” Eddie said slowly as that thirty second conversation started to play in his mind.
“Yeah, I remember that.” Mike added, in an attempt to back up his friend. “We just assumed she wasn’t your type.”
Eddie hadn’t been looking to be anyone’s boyfriend. He was never looking to be dating anyone, the few times he’d found himself in the good graces of a girl who’d shown interest in him it had always blown up in his face.
That had never stopped him from trying though.
“Are- wait. Back up.” Eddie stood up and made his way over to the opposite end of the table where the freshmen were suddenly looking very nervous. He grabbed them by the shoulders, as he’d done so many times in the past and hauled them up while the rest of the table watched on in amusement. Normally, Eddie would never pause the game but, fuck it. This kid had something to do with you, and he was going to figure out what.
“Jesus, Eddie-” Mike said, wincing at the grip. “I don’t have anything to do with this, it was all Dustin and Steve!”
This was getting more and more confusing by the moment. Eddie shoved the two boys to face them, leaning over them. Even with Mike’s growth spurt over the past few months, somehow Eddie still seemed to tower over them.
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice was slow, trying to understand why that name was even being spoken in the private sanctuary away from jocks.
“Yes, Steve! They’re like, best friends or something! Ask Dustin!” Mike said, throwing his friend under the bus.
“What’s the big deal?!” Dustin asked, looking between Mike and Eddie with a look of bewilderment.
“Henderson, you have thirty seconds to explain what the actual Hell is going on before your character becomes Quasit food.” Eddie said, releasing his grip on both of the freshmen.
“Okay, okay!” Dustin held his hand up in surrender, looking nervous as everyone watched the scene unfold. “So, you know how her and Steve work together? Well, they had a deal going on where they’d help get each other dates.”
Eddie’s head tilted down slightly, but his eyes stayed firmly focused on Dustin. This was making less and less sense by the minute. Steve needed help getting dates? King Steve of Hawkins High who had the pick of any girl in school before he graduated? That Steve Harrington couldn’t get a date and so had recruited you into helping him?
And you, you with the everything about you couldn’t get a date either? Hadn’t you mentioned something about that before, at the Hideout?
“I help him and he uh... he helps me get out of the house.”
You’d said that, and he hadn’t thought much of it until now. All this time, Eddie had thought the arcade incident had been Dustin trying to have his two older male friends meet and be friends, but it had been you that he was supposed to meet?
“So you’re telling me that you, Dustin Henderson and Steve Harrington were trying to set me up on a date?” Eddie looked over at the rest of the table that looked just as bewildered as he did. This was a prank, right? He’d been tossed into some sort of alternate dimension where a freshman and a jock had any sort of interest in his love life, in any part of his life. He’d sooner believe that he’d run a drug deal with Chrissy Cunningham than this.
“Well, technically we were trying to set her up on a date and you seemed like a good fit?” Dustin’s answer came out as more of a question, leaving Eddie’s mind reeling. Behind him, he could hear the growing snickers of the party.
Eddie was ready for this to start making sense any time now.
“So she was helping Steve get dates and he wanted to set her up with me?” Nope, even after thinking it a half dozen times it still wasn’t clicking.
“That part was my idea actually!” Dustin said, showing off a smile filled with metal. “She’s pretty weird and Steve said she was picky-”
“Can’t be that picky if she was interested in Eddie.” muttered Gareth, earning another round of laughter at the table.
Eddie didn’t even have it in him to shoot another look at the table as he continued to try and piece together what was going on.
You and Steve had a deal to try and get each other dates. You were picky and so Dustin suggested Eddie. Steve then brought you to the arcade to force a meeting and-
“Wait, did she know that she was supposed to meet me?” Eddie asked suddenly.
“Oh yeah, she knew the whole time in the arcade.” Dustin nodded, hoping that Eddie wasn’t about to blow a fuse over this. “Well, she figured it out at least. See she was just supposed to be tagging along with Steve to find guys to flirt with but then uh... she realized she was supposed to meet you.”
“And she didn’t know who I was?” Eddie clarified, thinking back to the way you’d tried to talk to him about Hellfire, Chris Morrison, anything to try and start a conversation. How the hell was it that he could remember every time you two met so clearly, but you didn’t know who he actually was?
Because it wasn’t about you, Eddie. He had to remind himself.
Dustin shrugged. “I guess not? She’s never mentioned you before that night.”
Guess not everyone paid attention to the Freak. He hated that it bugged him that you didn’t remember him but could he blame you? He probably wouldn’t remember him either, just a Munson fuck up who everyone was waiting to end up dead in a ditch somewhere.
Eddie pushed Dustin back down into his seat, done interrogating the poor freshman. Everyone watched as he made his way back to his side of the table, behind the DM screen. He had a lot to think about, but he wasn’t about to start processing that in front of the rest of Hellfire.
“You all wander deeper into the cave, the only light coming from the torch carried by-”
“I have dark vision!”
Broke and bored, Eddie haunted the trailer for the rest of the weekend. He did have practice with Corroded Coffin for a generous two hours on Saturday, and then a long shift that night at the Hideout where one old drunk had slipped him a $10 tip for making sure he always had a cold beer in hand. But those few hours were just a minor reprieve from the information that Dustin had given him the previous day.
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When he wasn’t distracted by work or practice he was practicing guitar, working on lyrics, prepping for the next Hellfire session.
He tried to think about you, but ended up feeling confused. When he was trying to think about anything else, all he could see was the way you had flirted with him at the Hideout.
Despite popular opinion, Eddie wasn’t stupid when it came to girls. He could tell when a girl was interested in him, and you had made it clear that you had at least some interest in him. You had told him point blank that you were not with Harrington, and had no interest as well. He’d seen the way you looked at him while watching them play, that excitement in your eyes. Your head had bobbed to the rhythm of their songs watching them with as much enthusiasm as if you’d been a fan for years.
Paige had watched with similar eyes, right? She’d seen something in them that no one else had before-
No. Not them. Not Corroded Coffin. Just Eddie.
It felt pathetic that he kept comparing you to Paige. He didn’t want to, he really didn’t want to. It wasn’t like he was still hung up on Paige, not really. She’d just been a turning point in who he was as a person. She’d been the first (and last) girl to really look at him as a person. If his dating prospects had been small before, they had completely dried up over the past two years.
Date the freak? Yeah, right. There had been the odd girl who’d hit on him as if daring themselves to get with him but he was done with that. A few mediocre dates that he’d agreed to out of boredom or loneliness had only added to the idea in Hawkins High that he was undesirable. Adding to that, the older he got, the younger his underclassmen became and the idea of dating someone younger was... well he didn’t need to add ‘creep’ to the long list of rumors about him. It didn’t matter to him most of the time, instead focusing on his friends, his band, his club, his business, himself. God knows he’d never be able to hold down a relationship unless he got his shit together and earned everyone’s trust again.
“Graduate and get laid, Munson.” Ronnie’s voice echoed in the back of his mind and he groaned as his face warmed. It was the middle of the week, just over two weeks since the night at the Hideout. Eddie was laying on the old couch face down, his homework on the counter half finished and the blue glow of the tv doing little to distract him.
The sound of the door opening didn’t even phase him enough to look up, even as Wayne grunted out a hello before setting something down on the counter next to his forgotten schoolbooks.
“Did you eat?” Wayne asked, which earned a shrug from Eddie. How could he think about eating when he was stuck thinking about everything else?
“Are you gonna tell me why you’ve been moping around for the past few weeks?” Wayne tried again in an attempt to be a good guardian. When that didn’t work either he sighed and said “Might as well step outside with me and have a smoke.”
It was better than doing whatever the hell else Eddie was doing now, and so he rolled off the couch less than gracefully and followed his uncle out onto the porch to sit on the outdoor couch. Wayne offered him the smoke and for a moment it was peaceful. Wayne wasn’t one to push Eddie to talk about anything, but he did have a way to make him think even if it did piss him off occasionally.
Eddie took a long drag of the cigarette and released it slowly as he stared up at the sky. It was a dark night, a million tiny dots illuminating the trailer park, even if the moon wasn’t out. He scanned the stars, looking for the three that he knew were Orion’s belt. That’s about where his astrology knowledge began and ended, but it was something to look for at least.
“I think a girl likes me.” He finally said as he spotted what he assumed was the constellation he was looking for.
“Yeah?” Wayne asked, his own eyes gazing upwards as well, giving Eddie the space to talk more.
“Yeah.”
It was silent again for a few minutes as they smoked, the only other sound for a while was that of Wayne cracking open a beer. That’s what Eddie appreciated about Wayne, he didn’t need to fill the silence like his dad did, and Eddie didn’t need to either. He could just... exist.
“I don’t know what to do about it.” Eddie finally said a while later. “She only has an interest because her and some jock are trying to get each other dates.”
“Is that right?” Coming from anyone else that question would have been dismissive, a filler phrase to show that they were paying minimal attention. Eddie knew better though, which caused a knot of frustration in his gut.
“I guess.” he shrugged.
“How many dates has she gone on?” Wayne passed the beer to Eddie, who took a grateful sip.
“Don’t know. It didn’t sound like she’d been on many. Henderson said she’s picky.”
“But she likes you.”
“Yeah.”
Another long stretch of silence as Eddie stewed over the question. He hated how Wayne could break down his problems into simple questions.
“Don’t see why you’re moping around if she likes you.” Wayne glanced over at Eddie. “Are you sweet on her?”
Eddie snorted at the term, taking another drag from the cigarette and flicking the ashes off the porch. “She’s cute.” he said, thinking about how you’d looked the last few times he’d seen you. He might have been distracted that first night at the arcade, but not so distracted that he didn’t notice that at least. “Smart too. She got the guys to listen to her last time we hung out.”
Wayne raised an eyebrow. “She got Gareth to pay attention? That’s a damn miracle.”
“They liked her too.”
“More than the California girl?”
The question caught Eddie off guard and he looked up at Wayne who was still looking off in the distance. Eddie had never explained exactly to Wayne what had happened that first senior year, most of the details going to what happened with Al when Officer Morris was shot. They never talked about how Eddie was so damn close to packing everything up and running away to California.
Thinking about everything that happened that year still stung. Eddie had tried hard not to think about what could have been if CJ and Toby had just shown up one or two days later. Would Eddie have made it to the audition? Would they have really liked him? Maybe in another life he’d be signed and he’d be working on an album or on tour and him and Paige...
It didn’t matter, that ship had long since sailed. Eddie was no rock hero, and never would be. He tried to tell himself it was better this way, if anything it meant that his relationship with Al was over and done with which was a hollow victory if he was being honest.
“Definitely more than her.” Eddie finally agreed. You weren’t asking him to ditch the band and run away with you, so that had to give you some points for them, and for him. Dustin vouched for you, and even Mike, but he wasn’t sure how much that counted for yet. After all Dustin still seemed to worship Steve, and you were friends with Steve-
But did that actually matter? If you and Steve were close enough friends to help each other like this, and Steve was willing to vouch for Eddie, despite never having any real conversation just because Dustin said something-
“She gonna ask you to run away?” Wayne was now looking at Eddie again.
Sometimes he wondered if his uncle could secretly read minds.
“Doubt it.” Eddie said, “She works at the video store. I don’t know much about her, honestly.”
“So ask her on a date.”
“What?”
“She likes you, you want to get to know her. Ask her on a date. It’s not that complicated, Eddie.” Wayne dropped the cigarette on the porch and crushed it under his boot. “You always did think too much, always sucked up in your own world. You’ll be happier in the long run if you open up a bit.”
Easier said than done for a 20 year old still in high school that the whole town considered a satanic cult leader. Then again, when was the last time he’d really opened up to anyone other than Ronnie or Wayne? Right, his dad in the weeks before the heist.
“I think I fucked this up before I could even start.” Eddie sighed, snuffing out his own half finished cigarette. “She gave me her number and I never called.”
“Could’a grabbed a quarter from the change jar and used a pay phone.”
Eddie pressed his hands against his face and dragged them down slowly. Why did good advice always come too late for him?
“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I brought back a new phone for the kitchen today.”
Eddie’s head snapped up so fast he should have snapped something, his eyes widening.
“Don’t get too excited. It’s a new used phone. Guy down the line from me offered it up and it’s better than nothing.”
Eddie didn’t care if it was a rotary phone, he’d take anything at this point if it meant that he could try to call you.
He wanted to call you.
He wanted to call you. Eddie didn’t care if you remembered that first time you met, did it even really matter? You had an interest in him, Eddie Munson, now.
“Thanks, Wayne.” Eddie stood up and hurried inside, seeing the new old phone that was sitting on the counter. It took a few minutes of making sure it wouldn’t fall off the wall before he plugged it in and heard that sweet dial tone sound.
Eddie grabbed his copy of Lord of the Rings from his bedside table and pulled out the paper flower, looking at the number scribbled in his own chicken scratch. He didn’t trust himself to punch in the number without checking, no matter how many times he read the ten digits over the past two weeks.
It rang once.
Twice.
Six times.
No response.
“It’s late, she might be asleep.” Wayne said, grabbing a box of pasta from the cabinet.
It wasn’t that late, not even 8:30 yet. Eddie sighed and hung up the phone, crossing his arms as he thought about his next move. He’d always had tunnel vision when he got an idea into his head, from Corroded Coffin, to his campaigns, to a book that he wanted to read, it was hard to shake the urge when he got one.
Grabbing the keys from the counter he called over to Wayne “I’ll be back later.” which was responded to with a confirmation that he’d save some pasta for Eddie in the fridge.
There weren’t many places he could think of where you could be tonight. You hadn’t shown back up at the Hideout, and the arcade was closed this late on a weeknight. You could be at home, but Eddie didn’t remember where you lived and showing up to your place after two weeks of radio silence would definitely get him in trouble.
So he drove to Family Video.
If you were there he’d do.. something. If you weren’t he’d call you after school tomorrow. Eddie winced internally at the thought. He’d been trudging through school and dragging his feet for the past six years to graduate, and now was the time he felt childish about it. You could legally buy him a beer, and he could illegally sneak you a drink in the Hideout.
At a stoplight he swapped out the Black Sabbath tape for W.A.S.P., remembering that you had mentioned liking them. How did he continue to remember these small details about you?
Because she’s treated you like a human each time you’ve talked. It was startling how something so basic was such a big deal to him.
The lights were still on at Family Video, and the open sign was still lit up. He could see movement inside the store, and he caught sight of someone wearing the signature green vest that the employees wore.
He’d walk in, and if you were there he’d- fuck what the hell was he supposed to do? Eddie stared at the door from inside his van for a few minutes. It was past nine now, and he could have sworn that they should be closed now but that stupid sign was still on. That had to be a good sign right? Eddie wasn’t one to believe in stuff like that but maybe he’d be stupid to ignore a literal neon sign hanging in the door.
Okay, now or never. Eddie had never really been one to hesitate before and he wasn’t about to start now.
He made his way to the entrance and opened the door before he could think about what he was actually wanting to do. Eddie could improvise, it was one of the more useful skills that came from years of running Hellfire.
“Who didn’t lock the door?!” Your voice was a welcome sound, sealing the determination inside of him. No going back now.
“It was Steve’s job to-” your co-worker said. She looked familiar, but he couldn’t place a name to the face.
“Oh, shit. Hi.” Steve was the first to actually notice Eddie as he walked in, looking as if he was expecting literally anyone else.
Turning on the Freak, Eddie smirked at Steve. “Cursing in front of customers, Harrington? Now that’s not very professional of you.”
“Well, we’re closed. You can’t be a customer if you can’t pay.” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips in a way that reminded Eddie of a mother hen. Steve did have a point, and so he decided to cut through any bullshit and looked over at you. You looked like you’d had a long shift, but the way you were looking at him... there was still the same shock that was on Steve’s face, but while his shock was laced with confusion yours was excited. As if you couldn’t believe that The Freak was here and that was a good thing.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Eddie blurted out the request before he could think. He had no idea where you two would go or what you would do but he had to do something.
Your coworker nudged you in the ribs, and your expression changed to a more professional one.
“I- uh. I have to finish closing.” you said, looking at Steve for a split second.
“Steve and I can handle the rest of closing!” Eddie made a mental note to learn this girls name and send her a fucking gift basket one day.
“Guys, I’m literally in charge of you both. I can’t leave before you.” You said, reaching down to grab something from below the counter- your bag. Eddie felt himself growing more excited, his heart pounding as you tossed your work vest and keys over to them. They were basically shoving you out the door to spend time with him.
“We can handle it!” Steve said.
“And I can handle Steve!” Robin added. “We close without you and Keith all the time, remember?”
You stepped out from behind the counter, looking up at him. The color of your eyes under the fluorescent lights reminded him of the stars he had been looking at earlier this evening. Eddie found himself smiling at you as you opened the door for him.
Someone was quick to lock the door and turn the OPEN sign off.
Eddie opens his van door for you, trying his best to make a good impression for whatever was about to happen. You hopped into the passenger seat and he thought that he might enjoy seeing you sitting next to him like this in his van more often.
---
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stinkyme · 8 months
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Hello! This is an Atsushi fic I had in mind, he has been...fine lately, so I figured to write something about him since I never did :D 
I hope you like it and enjoy it! :)
CW/TW: NSFW, fem!reader (no usage of pronouns or specifics in general), first time with Atsushi, Atsushi is a virgin, switch!Atsushi, switch!reader, established relationship, Atsushi humps bed a little bit, handjob, reader spits on Atsushi's cock once, Atsushi tastes his own cum and kisses the reader, Atsushi uses a bit of claws and fangs :3, needy!Atsushi, creampie, Atsushi could be a bit OOC since I never wrote for him, if I forgot anything please let me know! :)
I apologize for any mistakes in advance! :)
I need more of you || Atsushi Nakajima x Reader
You never expected this from Atsushi. When you first met him, you kind of labeled him as a shy and not very initiative person which you were okay with, really. You made a first move on him, initiated a first date and a first kiss. In general, you were the one who was mostly navigating the relationship in a physical sense. Of course, Atsushi isn't a fool, he would always show his love for you in his own ways by taking you to your favorite places, reading you books he got from library before sleep, he had a special liking to kiss your forehead as a form of silently telling you that he loves you. 
Naturally, the more comfortable he got - he would get more expressive. He would get more touchy with you, kissing you all over your pretty face, complimenting every feature of yours he could. It was rather sweet seeing him open up and unapologetically let himself be who he is around you. However, neither of you initiated sexual intimacy yet. Surely, there was a lot of touching, neck kissing, sometimes even dry humping and similar, but you never went further than that. You knew he was a virgin so you didn't want to push over his boundary or make him feel unsafe in any way. You truly didn't mind waiting for him, but it appears that he was the one who had enough of waiting.
In the middle of the night, you hear his soft voice calling for you as he lays behind you. You open your eyes slowly, blinking a few times, still fairly sleepy as you feel Atsushi move behind you. Slowly turning around, your eyes quickly widen as you see him practically naked, moving his hips into the mattress. His eyes are half-lidded, pale skin of his face and back shining from a tiny amount of sweat. He looks at you, oddly shameless, as he keeps moving his hips.
You definitely didn't expect this from Atsushi.
You remain silent, but you can feel your cunt slightly clenching at the desperate sight in front of you.
"I am sorry for waking you, I am sorry, I knew we said we would wait, but-" he whispers his apology, slowly lifting himself up with his arms and moving himself towards you. 
"I was only waiting because of you." you whisper back as he adjusts himself on top of you, towering over. He looks at you for a moment, his face revealing painful desire.
"Yeah?" he whispers, slightly insecure as he leans his face closer to your body and places a kiss on your shoulder. 
"Mhm, I thought you wanted us to wait." you whisper and place your hands on his cheeks, giving him a lustful look.
"I did, but I don't want to wait anymore. Do you?" he asks in a soft voice that has a hint of desperation before he places another kiss on the side of your neck.
"Nuh-uh. You are a pathetic little man, aren't you?" you give him a playful smile and he gets a bit shy knowing the state he was in just a second ago. He remains silent, hiding away and gently kissing your neck. You let a satisfied sigh out.
"I think it was rather cute to see you like that, you know?" you whisper, a light chuckle escaping your throat. Atsushi trembles as he hesitantly licks your neck from the base up to behind your ear. You let out another satisfied sigh, bringing his face closer to yours and giving him a soft, long kiss on the lips. His lips tremble as you slowly pull away, resting your head on the pillow and looking at him, waiting for his response.
"Cute, huh?" he asks, raising his eyebrow at you. You slowly let go of his cheek, resting your arms next to your body.
"Mhm, it's cute when somebody is as desperate as you are." you chuckle again, bringing one of your fingertips to brush over his nose. He remains silent, he wasn't very experienced at conversing in this setting, but you could feel his cock twitch where it was between your legs. It would gently tap your lower tummy making you needier.
"It's a really lovely sight to experience, you know?" you continue poking him in a soft tone and you can see him freeze as he is unsure about what to say. His cock twitches once more, tapping your lower tummy, as he keeps looking at you with hesitant, yet lickerish gaze.
"You know…" you slowly get up and his body naturally moves away from yours. You bring your hands underneath your shirt, taking it off quickly and exposing your nude chest to him.
"I was thinking of you a lot.." you whisper, evidently teasing him more as you drop the shirt on the floor. He gulps, his hands falling between his legs as he was kneeling on the bed. Atsushi's cock was painfully hard, completely exposed to you. It was so pretty too, average length but nicely thin, a layer of precum coating his pink tip.
"About this, I mean. I would.." you trail off as you slowly get up, taking off your shorts and underwear at one go, letting them drop on your ankles. You slowly move, now completely naked in front of him and slowly position yourself in front of him on the bed. You lay down on your back, keeping your thighs together just to tease him more by not showing him how wet you are for him. Atsushi gulps in anticipation, playing with his fingers as he awaits the rest of your sentence.
"..I would touch myself while thinking of you." you whisper, looking straight into his eyes and you notice his eyes slightly widening at revelation. You chuckle as he remains silent, his cock throbbing at the image you just so casually put inside his head. You move your hands over your chest, gently squeezing your boobs and he lets out a whimper at the sight in front of him. You slowly move up, kneeling in front of him, your eyes at the same length with his. You bring your hands on his thighs, slowly dragging them up, closer to his aching cock. He moves his own hands behind his back, balancing himself as he needily brings his hips forward, desperate for you to touch him.
"Have you?" you ask as you gaze over his even more precum coated cock, resting your hands comfortably on his groins, nails of your thumbs barely touching his balls. He shivers, unsure of what to say.
"Once or twice." he responds, evidently hesitant as his gaze pathetically fixates on your hands, in lustful need for you to move them where he needs them. 
"Mm? Is it okay then, if I..do this?" your gaze moves up, observing his face as both of your hands gently wrap around his cock. He dimly gasps in, nodding as a small 'yes' comes out of his parted lips. You nod back and slowly start moving your hands up and down while slightly circling your wrists. Atsushi lets a gasp out, his hands already gripping the sheets behind him as he feels your hands for the very first time. His cock is already throbbing inside your palms making you want to let out a pitiful chuckle at his deprivation and desperation. You align your lips above his cock, letting a thicker string of saliva fall on his pink tip.
You bring your hands up, coating his whole length and making it nicely wet. He whimpers as you slowly pick up your pace, moving your hands up and down in a medium rhythm. Atsushi's cock throbs as his hips jerk forward, a few faint whimpers escaping his throat. Your gaze shifts up, observing his face once again. His own gaze is fixated on your hands skillfully pleasuring his needy dick as he spreads his thighs a little bit, making himself more sensitive under your touch. Atsushi's eyes are half-lidded, he is barely keeping them open as his lips keep parting more and more as his whimpers grow more constant.
You speed up your movement, putting more pressure around his cock and he lets out a sharp moan, gripping the sheets behind himself tightly. Bottom of his slim stomach keeps twitching, each twitch revealing a tiny amount of abs he has. Tiny amounts of precum bubbles out of his tip as his whimpers grow into deeper moans, his eyebrows twitching upwards as he slowly moves his hips up and down, matching your rythym and fucking himself into your hands.
Your lips slightly part as you speed up your movement and lean closer to Atsushi's neck, placing slow and sensual kisses all over his skin. He lets out a mixture of a gasp and moan, his breath shaky as he hesitantly moves his hands towards you, resting them on your shoulders. You kiss him behind his ear and he shivers, his cock throbbing between your palms once more. He keeps moving his hips and matching your movement, panting in your ear as you lick his neck. You speed up your movement once more, pressuring his cock more and he lets out a shaky, sharp moan and quickly pushes you down on the bed, making you widen your eyes for a quick moment. Atsushi rests his hands on top of your shoulders, panting more heavily as he swallows and you unwrap your hands, bringing them next to your body.
"Did I do something wrong?" you are slightly concerned and he shakes his head, evidently trying to console himself. You feel a few wet drops falling on top of your lower tummy, your body slightly twitching from the wet and cold sensation. You notice his tip leaking cum, each drop that falls on your body making you shiver.
"I just-" he swallows, still panting, but less heavy than before.
"I am sorry, I am so sorry." he lets out in a shaky voice, obviously embarrassed from the fact he came so quickly. His eyes grow even more lustful, certain determination of his sparkling through. 
"That's okay, we can just-" you start comforting him in a softer tone, bringing your fingertips to his biceps and gently brushing over his skin.
"No, no." he shakes his head, swallowing as he lets go of your shoulders, resting his hands on each side of you.
"I need more of you, that's all." he whispers, leaning in and begins kissing your neck from where he left last time. You spread your legs around him, a soft whimper slipping past your lips as his little fangs dig into your sensitive skin. He starts sucking on your neck, making you roll your eyes as his tongue brushes over it to soothe the bittersweet sensation. He slowly lets go, moving down with kisses. He trails over your collarbone, moving down to your chest area. He greedily kisses all over your breasts, mixing in a few bites in between the kisses.
You let out a soft whimper and you feel his cock tapping on your lower tummy once again, twitching from your body and sounds. He slowly moves down, kissing all over your tummy, reaching every single part of it he possibly could. Atsushi sneaks in a few bites and you let out louder, more clear gasps and whimpers. He messily licks the areas he was biting, providing a comforting sensation with his soft, smooth and wet tongue. He reaches your lower tummy where the pool of his embarrassment was and he looks at it with uncertainty, but also, with a sprinkle of curiosity.
He lets the tip of his tongue touch his cum as he slowly slides it upwards, tasting himself. You let a shaky breath out as you leak more precum yourself. He slowly keeps licking away his own cum before he towers over you once again, bringing his lips closer to yours.
You part your lips and let him slide his tongue between.
You feel the wet texture on your lips as you taste his cum with your own tongue. You put your hands on his waist, gently moving them up and down, especially careful around his scars. Your tongues match each other's rhythm and his cum tastes neutral, leaning more towards sweet flavor. He slowly pulls away, his lips practically gluing away from yours, a small string of saliva between the two of you. He looks at you with filthy eyes, almost begging to be praised and it makes your stomach twirl, seeing him like this.
"Cleaning up your own mess, what a good boy you are." you whisper, giving into his desire as your fingertips barely brush over the rough texture of his scars. Atsushi shivers, looking at you for a moment, finally growing more confidence.
"Turn around." he says in a more orderly tone and you tilt your head slightly.
"Ordering me around? Unlike you, I have to say." you note in a flat, yet teasing tone, but his gaze remains serious, making heat spread inside your body.
"I said I need more of you, so turn around." he continues speaking with confidence and you gulp, slowly turning around and laying flat on your tummy. Your legs are squeezed between his legs and he brings his hands on your hips, urging you to move them up. You obey, arching your back for him and he gently squeezes your ass cheeks. 
He brings his thumbs to your outer lips, spreading them apart as he lifts his hips, aligning his cock with your entrance. You slowly move your legs, squeezing them out of where they were between his own legs and spread them next to him. He keeps spreading your outer lips and you feel a heavy gaze on your back, almost burning into your skin. He whimpers as he feels how wet you are, his cock twitching again. He gasps out, slightly irritated at his own sensitivity and aligns his cock with your inner lips again.
Atsushi takes a breath in and slowly, steadily pushes the tip of his cock inside, gasping at the sensation. You let out a whimper, muscles of your thighs flexing as you need him to go deeper. He slowly moves deeper inside, half of his cock stretching you out nicely as both of you let out dim whimpers in union. You grip the sheets in front of you as Atsushi squeezes your hips. You move your hips back, wanting to slide further down on his cock and he matches you desire, moving his hips forward. Finally, the base of his cock touches your cunt, the tip of his cock reaching deep inside of you. Both of you continue letting out moans as he starts thrusting inside of you, his cock perfectly sliding over your g-spot and filling you nicely.
His grip on your hips tightens as his thrusts grow from slower and medium paced to more greedy and fast. You arch your back a bit more and his tip reaches even deeper inside of you, making you let out a shamelessly sharp whine and he keeps his fast pace, relentlessly slamming his hips into your skin, constantly rubbing your g-spot. You feel your cunt aching and clenching around him as moans get fucked out of your throat. Atsushi lets out a quick chain of breathless whines, choking them out as he rapidly gets lost in pleasure. His fingers twitch on your hips as his skin keeps slapping yours, his cold balls touching your clit every time he fully inserts his cock inside of you, making your thighs grow weak.
He throws his head back, choking on his own filthy sounds as he grows more desperate, letting his claws out and digging them in your skin, trying to keep you steady and balanced. He leans over you and one of his hands moves on the back of your neck and he squeezes it tightly, his claws brushing over the sides of your neck. You let out a muffled moan as he quickly pushes your hips down with his one hand, unaware of his own strength at the moment, vigorously thrusting his hips and reaching even deeper inside of your needy cunt. He uses his pelvic area to push your ass even lower, making you lay flat down on the bed. Atsushi keeps one of his hands on your hip, still sliding easily in and out of your leaking pussy, as his other hand moves away from your neck, his claws digging into your shoulder blade.
You let out a loud whine as he drags his claws slightly down, unable to contain himself. Each thrust pushes your own pelvic area deep into the bed, making his cock put more pressure on your g-spot. He slowly raises his knee and pushes one of your legs between his, closing the distance between your own legs. You bend the knee of your other leg, adjusting yourself. This makes the sensation even more pleasurable and unbearable, almost bringing tears to your eyes. He leans his face closer to your back, shakily kissing in between your shoulder blades and he notices how much pressure his claws have been putting on your back and he quickly draws them back in. He kisses the area he was scratching, panting heavily into your skin as he keeps the speed of his thrusts, relentlessly stimulating all sensitive spots inside of you.
"I'm sorry, I got carried away." he whispers into your skin, his voice comforting, but his shaky, warm breath sends shivers down your spine. You can feel one of your hips also stinging from the little marks his claws left behind and he as gently as possible brushes his fingertips over it, trying to soothe the sensation as he keeps fucking you greedily.
Your throat feels sore, unable to produce any more sounds properly, so you barely let out small words of affirmation how it's okay in response to him.
He moves his other hand away from your back and slides it under where your hip was lifted away from the bed and further down, his shaky fingertips reaching your overly needy clit. He places two fingers on your clit, fully covering it and starts moving them in steady circle motion, squeezing another moan out of your throat. He slows down his thrusts, making you let a deep breath out as your cunt tightens around his cock.
"Is this how you did it?" he whispers behind your ear, trying not to put his full weight on your back. He was referring to your confession and you nod, your legs growing weaker as pleasure grows bigger.
"Good to know." he whispers and kisses your earlobe from behind, following with a small lick. It makes you shiver as you leak more precum around his cock that was so steadily and nicely stimulating all sweet spots inside.
You feel the heat spreading inside your body, burning under your skin as he speeds up his thrusts again, greedy for more. He messily kisses parts of your upper back that he can reach, lost in pleasure as he keeps his movement on your clit at a perfect pace, each thrust and each circle he makes bringing you closer to your own orgasm. You grip the sheets, weakness evident in your hands as he keeps milking out moans out of your throat. You close your eyes, completely taking in the pleasure he was providing and that was so long awaited. You feel his cock twitch, sudden movement putting intense pressure on your g-spot and you can feel your orgasm building up quickly. He feels your precum leaking even more on his cock, making him unable to take it, almost bringing his own orgasm too early.
He swiftly bites into the skin between your neck and shoulder from behind, his sharp fangs sending jolting sensation down your body. You let out a sharp whine, squirming underneath him as he keeps moving his hips at a fast pace, relentlessly pleasuring you. His fingers keep their pace as well and you can feel your own orgasm approaching quickly, breathy whimpers escaping your lungs as your release bubbles up. He keeps biting into your skin, but you can't even feel it anymore, too focused on your own pleasure. Heat spreads all over your body and your orgasm finally bursts inside of you, your hips barely twitching underneath Atsushi and making you take it fully.
Atsushi pants on your skin in between his teeth, letting out a muffled whimper, his fingers messing up their pace on your clit but it didn't matter. Your orgasm reaches its peak and you feel Atsushi biting harder into your skin as he releases a whip of warm cum inside of you, reaching his own climax.
Your whimpers and moans mix and he lets go of your skin, gulping and panting as his thrusts grow slower and messier. Your orgasm slowly melts away and your breathing keeps on being incoherent as Atsushi quickly pulls out, his orgasm still on-going and his cum leaking all over your pussy as well. You tremble from the sensitivity of your cunt, slowly turning around and laying on your back to watch his face. He is sweaty and he is trembling, gulping for air as his orgasm finally stops. You feel slightly tired, but in a good way. Atsushi looks at you and regardless of his messed up state, his eyes are evidently needy for more or you. 
And why would you deny him when there are so many things you wish to do with him...or do to him?
The End :) <3
Tag: @maislovebot :D <3
I hope you liked and enjoyed this! Thank you so much for all the love and support, it really means a lot to me :) <3
Forehead kisses for everyone :3 <3
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lunargrapejuice · 1 year
Text
nothing between us
aka skin to skin cuddling <3 ayatos kinda got away from me so sorry that it's longer than kaeyas glkshdl
kaeya alberich + kamisato ayato (seperate) x reader with no pronouns used
warnings: hurt/comfort themes, skinship, nudity but nothing sexual, needy kaeya, reader being injured (ayato), i don't think anything else but please let me know if i missed something!
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kaeya
a hard knock followed by many softer ones against your apartment door pulls your attention away from the pages of your book. you might have been upset at the hour this visitor decided to stop by, late into the night long after the sun had set when only silver moonlight and golden flickers of flames are left to light your room, but if it was who you thought and wished it to be you could hardly find it in yourself to be angry. not when your heart longed to see him on his way home from the tavern and you wonder if somehow, in the tangle of your souls, he had heard your call for him.
the story you had been reading was once again hidden within the bound parchment as you lay it closed on your nightstand with the bookmark your knight had gifted you holding your place. sliding from the warm sheets of your bed and into the cooling evening air you don’t waste a moment hurrying to the door and can’t help but chuckle at his cute drunken pleas for you to let him in. 
“snowdrop, have you gone off without me?” he pouts while you unlock the door, a hint of.. actual sadness in his tone that you hadn’t expected to hear and question if you had imagined it in the first place.
“my sleuthing knight says as if he wouldn’t have already known had i ‘gone off,’” you smile and tease, opening the door to your beloved bathed in moonlight and resting against the doorframe looking as beautiful as an archon; hand crafted by celestia itself and smelling of sweet wine but still you felt that melancholy in the air around him. even through his soft skin and deep azure eyes he couldn’t hide what he normally kept so tucked away from others, not from you.  “and there is nowhere i am going without you my love.” 
without thinking your hand reaches for him, the pads of your fingers brushing along the tanned and heated skin of his cheek, his uncovered eye softening under your touch. even intoxicated he’s quick to react, his hand grabbing yours and skilled fingers curling into your palm before using his strength to pull you close, your cheek resting against his exposed chest, his other arm wrapped around your middle to keep you pressed so tightly against him. the suddenness of it steals your breath and has you clinging to him for stability.
“you also said you wouldn’t keep me waiting but here i was all alone in the cold,” he whispers quietly; almost as if you weren’t meant to hear it, like he had wanted to say more or perhaps something he couldn’t quite voice. he squeezes you hard, letting go of your hand and resting it against his chest so he can pull you closer into him, not even letting the wind between you.
you can feel the hard thumping of a heart, can hear it in your ears but there was no telling if it belonged to you or him.
“kae..”
with his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck that familiar flirty tone returns to him but his grip on you doesn’t lessen even a little. “aren’t you going to invite me in, dove?”
even though it’s only for a few moments you hate to part from him and he seems just as reluctant to let you go but with a loving smile that has his chest skipping far too many beats, melting the worries that he draped around his heart like frozen rain, you lead him by the hand through the door, down the hall and into the place kaeya had found himself constantly wanting to be; the room that held your trinkets, your favorite books, the blanket thats fibers lingered with your familiar scent and reminded of him of home.
he doesn’t speak a word as he follows at your heels, nor as he sits on the edge of your bed and begins to take off his boots. you watch with soft eyes, taking in your every inch of handsome knight, thinking about how he looks and smells like the normal kaeya you saw everyday, the kaeya he showed most people but still you couldn’t help that feeling that tugged at your soul and told you something was wrong or how badly you ached to take away every bit of his worries, his uncertainties.
resting on your shins you take a place next to him and stop his movements with a light tug to his sleeve, your fingers barely holding onto the fabric but he was always so focused on you the lightest of touches from you would have been enough to have his full attention.
“is everything okay?” you ask, your tender eyes full of love, your tone unwavering even though you’re unsure if he will let you in and allow you to share his burdens. you know it wasn’t like him to speak out his weakness, though you wouldn’t call them that but it would never stop you from offering to help in any way you can.
“now, now, you don’t need to worry about me doll,” he avoids your question with a smile and a bat of thick dark lashes that might have worked as they intended had you not been so determined to remind him that he was not alone in this world and never would be again.
“that doesn’t answer my question, you know.”
he gazes into your eyes and you swear you see the unease within him vanish the longer he looks at you, the closer it becomes to nothing being between you as he closes the distance. chilled fingers half goved reach out for you and still without answering your question he guides you into his lap with a quiet ‘come here’, your legs straddling his, his arms around your waist. once again he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he hesitates to speak.  
“.. everything is fine now,” he whispers and you can hear the truth behind his words, feel the way his body untenses under your touch. you feel his hands slide under your shirt to feel your bare skin against his hands and you lean into him to provide him with every bit of you. “can i.. just hold you for a while?”
“of course you can. you never need to ask,” you reply, your heart feeling as though it might burst right out of your chest at the shyness he hardly showed to anyone. you held him tighter then, the smell of his shampoo filling your senses, your nose tickling against his soft blue locks.
your chest immediately blossoms with heat when you feel the upward tug of your shirt and even though you aren’t entirely sure why he was undressing you when he asked such an innocent request, you easily follow his movements and lift your arms to let him take your oversized shirt off of you. 
“what ar-”
before you can say anything more his face is pressed against your exposed chest, the intoxicated heat of his cheeks making you feel like you might be seconds away from melting but his cold fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your back keep you from slipping from his grasp, freezing you in this moment and his next words, muffled against your skin like a child trying to subtly ask for help even though it is desperately needed, bends you to his will.
“.. want to be closer to you..” 
without asking or saying anything more, with loving and chaste touches, sweet kisses and fluttering eyes, you help each other out of your remaining clothes. your hands gently mapping out the scars on his skin as you unfasten the belts of his outfit, let your fingers slide against him when guiding off his shirt. his lips place the evidence of his love, his need, for you onto each place he uncovers, his skilled and calloused hands running over every dip and curve of your body until you’re both bare and your bodies are pressed impossible close under your duvet.
skin to skin. heart to heart. breaths as one.
his hands and lips never wander or ask for more than the feeling of your skin and they never once leave you. he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to share what weighed so heavily on him tonight but you didn’t need to know to give him every ounce of your deviation or truth of your feeling for him and you do just that, as you wanted to for the rest of your life. 
each moment that passes, the night growing darker, he returned to his smiling, teasing, slightly tipsy self and it isn’t long before you’re sharing giggles, deep kisses filled with the taste of the wine he drank at the tavern tonight and reminders of your love for one another until your words become slow, your breath fanning against him becomes deep and you drift to sleep in his arms. 
the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your skin against his without a single barrier between you. the way you hold him, the smile on your sleeping lips. all of it solidifies in his weary mind that it truly wasn’t a lie when he told you everything was okay and without warning your sleeping visage begins to pull him into a sweet dreamland of a future filled with your boundless love for one another, a love that tonight he so deeply felt he didn’t deserve and nearly convinced himself it was slipping right through his fingers until he saw you smile at him, heard you call him yours.
in a tired voice he whispers against the crown of your head and closes his eyes, letting the last of his anxieties go, “as long as you are by my side it will always be okay..” 
ayato
the yashiro commissioner usually didn’t pay much mind to the late hour of the evening. it was pointless to watch the clock tick by slowly when there was so much paperwork to be done and he would be up late doing it regardless of how far the night drew on but today he could hardly keep his eyes off of the clock arms slowly moving to later and later hours without your return.
he wasn’t particularly fond of your plans today, going on a commission that would likely require you to fight simply because the requester asked for you by name. there was no need for you to work, not with ayato as your fiance and the thriving kamisato estate as your home but, in your spirit to explore and use your skills to help others, your thoughtfulness and splendor - which he loved so dearly about you - of course you agreed to take the commission. 
with his own duties it was near impossible for him to join you but that didn’t stop him from dispatching a top member of the shuumatsuban to go with you in his absence, even though you had argued that it was unnecessary. in the end you had wiggled your way from what you called ‘far too many ninjas’ following in your shadows to just the one, one ayato trusted very much but still, the longer time went by without word of your return, the more the unease began to bubble within him and eventually, as the sun began to set behind the waters that surrounded narukami island, he decided to take matters into his own hands. 
he was in the courtyard adjusting the strap on his shoulder plate, telling thoma and another retainer of his plans to head to the place you were commissioned to go when he heard a guard yell your name and saw a flurry of purple armor run towards the gates of the estate. the commissioner was quick to follow after them, looking so elegant and collected in each step he took as the guards parted for him but inside it felt as though he was moments from losing himself to the way his heart pounded so hard against his rib cage and his wandering mind bringing him to scenarios that were normally reserved for his dreams and yet were still so familiarly apart of his reality; where everyone he loves has and would be taken from him. where his power, his honed strength, his unmatched cunning, everything he ever has been and ever would be, would not be enough to save any of you.
you finally come into view, the dark armor of the shuumatsuban on your back nearly engulfing you as your tired legs struggled to keep you both upright, the ninjas larger motionless body weighing you down, his arms slung over your shoulders and ayato runs faster than any of the guards. if they had gotten a glimpse of his visage as he ran past they just might have seen his agony turning his violet eyes a deep royal purple.
he catches you both against his chest just as your legs give away, a mumble of his name falling from your chapped lips as your head meets his chest, relief and happiness behind your heavy breathes. his black dress shoes scrape against the carved path under the weight of you both against him but it’s only a split moment before the hands of the other guards are lifting the seemingly lifeless ninja off of your back and your beloved scoops you into his arms.
confirming words that the ninja was alive, that healers were on their way and that you had been secured by the commissioner all rattle loudly in front of ayato but he hardly hears any of it as he looks down at you, eyes hidden from the rest of the world by light blue bangs. they scan over every inch of you, noting every bruise, every cut, every patch of dirt on your sweat beaded skin. all while he lets his muscles still pulsing with adrenaline guide you both back to the safety of the estate.
“it’s okay, i’m okay,” you reassure him with a smile that meets your eyes, even though the constraint of speaking on your burning lungs makes it hurt to get the words out. ayatos tight and trembling grip on you isn’t helping the pressure against your aching body but you don’t ask him to stop, not when he’s looking at you like you might be leaving him behind in this world when in fact you were just exhausted beyond all belief. it hurts to lift your arm but you use the last bit of strength you have to do so and let your shaking fingers caress his cheek, finally bringing the violet eyes you love so much to look into your own. “i’m okay.”
“it appears our definitions of ‘okay’ are not quite the same my dear.” it’s the first words he’s spoken since he caught you; the only words he could find at your ridiculous notion of what ‘okay’ meant, at the relief within his own being at hearing the words despite not totally agreeing with them.
“alive and not seriously injured sounds pretty okay to me,” you say with a chuckle, trying to hide the way you wince at the pain of it. but you meant it, you really did, even if he didn’t believe you yet. 
with your head resting against his chest, his strong arms under your legs and at your back keeping you safe, the sleeves of his coat fluttering behind him, he makes his way through the doors of your home and down the hall to your shared bedroom with attendants at his heels awaiting orders.  
thoma disperse them the deeper into the estate you go, the man holding you never once taking his eyes off of you as the housekeeper delegating tasks to keep the estate running smoothly and soon, when the door to your bedroom closes quietly and thoma leads the remaining worried attendants away, you’re left in the care of your beloved.
he doesn’t miss a moment of your recount of the events that you tell while waiting for the healer, how everything had ended well but the fight to get home was overwhelming. you swore the amount of enemies was never ending and told him of how it had resulted in your ninja companion being knocked out cold. ayato holds you the entire time, piecing together every bit of information you provide him to ensure that one, this does not happen again and two, that those who laid their hands on you would be paid back tenfold.
he only lets you go, albeit reluctantly, once the trusted doctor of the kamisato estate arrives and begins to look you over. while the doctor does her work you watch ayato shed his gloves and see how his hands no longer shake but behind his eyes each time he glances back at you, you can still see his worry. you watched as he took off his coat that was now sullied with the same dirt on your own clothes. slowly, meticulously, he takes off the other many layers he wears until only his light purple undershirt remains and he rolls the expensive fabric up to his elbow before disappearing into the bathroom.
the doctor chuckles low hearing the noises coming from the other room; running water, the opening and closing of many drawers and different boxes, the tapping of ayatos shoes as he makes his way from place to place.
“lady kayo would fuss over their father just the same whenever he got hurt,” she says with a nostalgic smile but doesn’t make any further comments as the current lord of the estate returns to the room to hear confirmation of what you’ve been trying to tell him; you’re okay, just a bit, okay maybe more than a bit, beat up and in need of rest. 
you feel your chest warm at her words as she talks to ayato about your condition and for a moment you forget about your aching bones or dirt covered skin, all that lingers within you is your fluttering heart at the thought of the love he holds for you. 
ayato is attentive to every word the doctor says, every recommendation to help ease your discomfort, the information about the medicine she’ll prepare and have sent to your room, all the while his eyes are focused on you and you alone. eventually you have to look away from him, feeling your entire body grow weaker under his gaze and your breath become harder to catch. you swear you see a smirk on his lips the last moment before your eyes focus on other familiar fixtures and trinkets in your room.
when it’s just the two of you once more, he returns you to the place within his arms, strong muscles flexing underneath you as he effortlessly lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom that was steaming with hot water from the shower and smelling of sakura blossoms and a hint of tea tree coming from the open medical container. he sets up down on the counter next to the many supplies he had laid out and even though you swear your body aches in a different way than fro your wounds when he lets you go, you know he has important duties to return to.
“thank you ayato, i’ve got it from h-  oh -,” you try to tell him you’ve got it but you are cut off when his pale gloveless fingers reach for your shirt and somehow he feels closer than he did when he was bringing you in here, his deep breaths fanning against your skin, the rise and fall of his chest almost deep enough to touch you, the heat of his entire body mixed with the steam from the shower making your mind fuzzy.
“am i not allowed to care for you now, hm?” you can hear the smile he wears even though there’s evidence of his unease behind his words.
“no! no, it's not that!” you protest all too quickly and imagine it likely made him smile. it did. and you get to see his pink lips and pearly whites showing in a tender yet teasing smirk when his index finger touches your jaw and pulls your gaze to meet his. you stutter under his unbridled, undivided attention, focusing on the mark resting below his lips rather than his eyes. “it’s just.. i.. you have more important things to attend to and i- i’ll be f-”
he interrupts you again but this time with his words and your heart stalls at the conviction behind them. “there is nothing in this world that is more important to me than you, my darling.” he thumb ghosts along your bottom lip and brings your eyes back to his, leaving you on bated breath, your hands reaching out to him to help keep you upright. “so i will not be going anywhere.”
it makes you want to cry, his words, the way he so tenderly removes every bit of your clothes and then his own before carrying you into the awaiting shower. its as if the events of the day were finally catching up to you and now that you were here, safely with the arms of ayato, warm water running through your dirty hair and over your bruised skin, his thoughtful hands cleaning every bit of you with the utmost care, you could finally let it all out.
“i’ve got you,” he hushes you sweetly when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, pressing your body closer to his so that not even the smallest droplets of water could get through, in a grasp that told you he needed it just as badly as you did.
you hold onto him, your arms painfully protesting from the force you put behind it but the pain is dull compared to the love that flows between you, like rain filling a once bare lake that held your two beating hearts within its now overflowing depths. 
and like the purest of rain water that he himself had created just for you, his love continued to pour over you, keep you cradled within its waters. he carried you from the shower and dried your body with such gentleness and the softest towel he could find, not letting you lift a muscle. his fingertips ran soothing ointment over every scratch and cut before wrapping them in soft cotton and placing loving kisses to every single injury.
your entire being was filled with comfort and rupture by the time he was finished and as he yet again scooped you into his arms, you melted into his exposed chest and traced the lines of ink on his skin with tired fingers, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your touch. 
“thank you ayato,” you whisper, feeling the sands of sleep lulling you in a welcoming embrace, the familiar scent of your beloved lingering within the threads of the bed sheets filling your nose. he might not have said it but you know how important the work he needed to attend to was and how much more work he would need to put in to catch up. all just so he could look after you.
“i was simply doing what i would alway do for you, my love. there’s no need to thank me,” he says earnestly, setting you into the plush sheets and following after you not a moment later, his touch unable to leave you and you’re thankful for that too. 
“no clothes?” you question when he pulls the covers over your both still naked bodies and presses himself flush against you, mindful of your injuries but still so incredibly close, like he knew it was exactly what you needed and craved. you didn’t mind of course, but it wasn’t what you had expected.
the smell of fresh sheets and your shampoo fill the space, warm and soft skin melting against your own, familiar but not something you get to feel nearly as much as either of you wanted, cradling you in the embrace of your beloved.
“not tonight,” not when i need to feel you against me. and though it wasn’t what he voiced, the emotions behind his words, the way his arms wrapped around you and held you against him, feeling every last bit of you, proof that you were okay and still beside him, said it all. 
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genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
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lucrativesoul · 6 months
Text
i love soft husband leon. who doesn't? what about soft leon who loves that you are a bookworm and dedicates himself to being your biggest fan? i am on board for this.
Ever since you had met, Leon knew how much of a reader you were. So much so, that before anything serious had even transpired between you two, he vowed to be the reason for your eventually massive book collection.
He had never said it out loud, but he loved your dedication to your reading space and how you cared for your growing library. You treated it like an entity, and he couldn’t help but always admire your effort that you put into it. He never thought that he was a second choice to your affection, rather, he preferred seeing you in the state of caring for your passion. It only made him fall more.
Every anniversary, birthday, holiday that required gifts possible, he was buying you a book or something to put in the room. Leon was always paying attention to what you say you need to add, or what you want to read, or something that would make the room look brighter.
Some of his favorite moments with you are the silent nights where he was sitting at one end of the couch, either on his phone or mirroring you and (giving it his best attempt) reading, and you were always right next to him with your own book. If you were close enough to the table, a mug with that night’s choice of drink not far from your reach, and one body part always in contact with him. The peace of the air calmed him after a day at work, or when something insignificant in his life went wrong, and even just looking over at you in your blissful state was enough to soothe him.
Leon, truthfully, loved nothing more than seeing you absorbed in your own worlds. Before he had met you, he thought it impossible that he could live a life where he even had a few moments of a quiet mind. He had no idea that one person could flip that all on its head. You became that for him. And when you are in your own little world, happy as can be (or sad, Leon has seen your many moods with the books you choose), he is reminded of the day that altered his life path forever.
Leon shows up with random plants sometimes. Nothing compliments a warm library space like a good plant, and eventually you had to tell him to slow down, as you were running out of room. (That really wasn’t true, you had a whole shelf and the both of you knew it. You would happily fill it with any plant he brought in, but he stayed conscious to keep it open in order to leave space for all the books he was planning on giving you).
Coming home from work, if you weren’t in the kitchen pouring yourself another mug of whatever it was that you chose for the night, you were in your reading room. The huge chair (that Leon supplied) held you snuggly against the thick knit blanket (from Leon) with your signature mug placed on the side table (...Leon) was exactly how he liked to find you. As much as it pained him to interrupt your reading, he always comes in to greet you, heart lightening at your expression at seeing him home, even if it was in the middle of a sentence.
Basically, Leon knew he made the right choice in choosing you to marry. He thought it would never happen to find someone who was his light even when you weren't paying attention to him. Just the mere sight of you had his heart racing. His safe space was with you, and with you always came the books and the comfort, so for the rest of his life, he knew he was bound to think of you every time he looked at a leather bound hardcover, already being able to picture you flipping through it.
a/n: i'm sorry for being silent! as i said before, the semester is in swing and i only have a month left now! i'm still thinking up ideas for my next full length, but i have not disappeared yet. please check out my others in the meantime if you haven’t already, and i will continue to work hard to make sure i deliver to my utmost quality. thank you for reading <3
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