#i can sit and wallow all i want but at some point im gonna have to get off my ass

[s0urte3th]

man this is why i let twoey do the comforting shit 😭😭😭

[silly-lil-scribbles]

vent of sorts under the cut

i miss being able to be awake at late hours of the night after everyone is asleep, because then i had some time to catch my breath, to try and feel something without the fear of being exposed. i could just wallow in my grief and guilt and pain and anger for a few hours. i mean when else can i do that? wakig up early cant fill that space because having a mental breakdown the moment you wake up is an insane fucking idea, thats too exhausting with a whole day ahead of you. cant in the middle of the day because everyone is there. everyone is always there. and now i cant at night because i go to bed before everyone. theyll catch me. theyll know. i dont even fucking know what theyre gonna know but they will. i sit through every day numb and mindless as the ticking of the clock showing how many hours im wasting peirces my skull but i cant move. i dont know why, i try to grasp for more time but its gone before i can even hope. theres always something wrong with me but its not wrong enough because nobody can see it. im desperately clawing along because i cant stop, they wont ket me. i dont even know who but it doesnt matter, does it? the point is, im trapped in a race against everyone else but im the onlyone still stuck on a never tiring treadmill. im so tired im so fucking tired but i have to keep going because i said i would. i cant stop because id let too many people down. i gotta keep crawling, keep dragging this wretched body though it. being up in the late hours of the night gave me a moment of rest. i could weep all i wanted as long as i was quiet enough. i had the privacy to be in pain when nobody was there to hear it. im always in so much pain but its still not enough, its never enough never fucking enough. and so many horrid little shards of myself still want more. maybe if im dropped enough times then i can excuse being shattered. something keeps battering me til im broken and bruised but its never enough because i can still keep going. and as long as i can keep going im fine in their eyes. but they cant see me when im broken either, because now theyll know im bad. theyll know im lying ive lied i keep making empty promises to tell her when i get worse but i cant. i know how they look at me when im broken. i feel like some sort of pathetic diseased dog. i need fixing. i always need fixing. nobody ever lets me just be not ok for a while, nobody wants to have to look at me while im like this and i dont blame them. i have to be better before they blame themselves, and i know they will. and the worst part is that they probably deserve the blame, i know that, but i still dont want them to hurt. if i just do better then theyll see that it wasnt that bad and they dont need to feel guilty. maybe then we can just forget everything thats happened. but im just so tired. so fucking exhausted from doing the bare minimum. just surviving hurts too much, but i know i will because i always do. because if i dont survive then thats letting down the people i love and care about and that i need to be there for. but god its so hard. and thats so small in comparison to everything i need to do, theres so many things and never enough time, it hurts so bad to even try. i just need to be worse until i cant do it anymore. maybe then theyll let me recover.

i dont want to hurt because i deserve it, but because thats all i know. what even am i if not suffering. ive lost so much of myself trying to ignore the hurt, not let it show. if i pretend i cant feel it then maybe i wont anymore. but ive learned now that feeling something that hurts is so much better than feeling nothing at all. i want to be happy, but how could i even do that now, im too tired. im tired because i dont even know who i am or what i feel but nobody can know that or theyll think im lying. im not lying i promise im not lying. i still know when i should be feeling something. not in the way that im expected to feel that way, but i can tell that if i wasnt like this then i would be feeling that. maybe that doesn’t make sense. none of this probably makes any sense, im sorry. everything is jumbled and and repeating and im saying so many words and i fel kinda dizzy rn. if anyone is reading this dont worry too much about me, im always fine eventually. just gotta get this out, yk? if you reply to this post then i probably wont respond but ill still read it and i love and appreciate you very much, thanks for wasting your time listening to me shout my incoherent complaints into the void of tumblr lol

[consistently-awful]

sneak peak of the story im writing for fun. not related to any books

authors note: just the first bit from a story im writing. lmk if I should post the rest of the chapter 😅

warnings: swearing, drinking/alcohol

word count: 480

CHAPTER 1

It was the night of January 22nd, and I, Leo Auden, had been sitting at the bar in my favorite tavern, in my favorite chair. All while drinking my favorite scotch and thinking about how shit my life had become.

I was still living in the same place I had since forever, well all my siblings had, but still. My oldest brother, Alexious and his wife were expecting their 2nd child, and I’m still not married. And to top it all off, my favorite and only sister, Ruena, had recently gotten into an arranged engagement. The wedding wasn’t for 2 years, but I still couldn’t believe it. Out of 9 kids, I was the only one not married or engaged.

And nevermind the fact that I scared away half the girls I met. Which didn't exactly help my situation. But there had to be someone out there who was a total badass, and who I would be afraid of. Right?

After wallowing in self-pity for a few hours, and after 2 scotches, I called for my carriage, and returned to the castle.

------᯽------

Little did I expect, my sister, Ruena, was waiting for me in the Great Hall.

“Hey Rue-Rue, what kept you waiting for little old me?” I had asked. I had a low, almost growling voice.

“I was wondering where you went. You just left, told nobody. Leo, you’re better than this” Ruena explained.

Ahhh, all that ‘You’re better than this’ shit was really pissing me off. I’m not gonna lie. Well, that’s not true. I lie all the time.

“I was at the tavern, calm down,” I said with an eye roll. Ruena, although my favorite sibling, did want to know where you were, what you were doing, at every point in time. So, when we didn’t tell her, she freaked out. So, really, I shouldn't've been surprised.

“If you really must know my every move, I’m going back out to visit some buddies downtown.” I lied, sort of sarcastically.

And so I left. No one stopped me. Not that I gave a shit. But it almost would’ve been nice for someone to stop me from going “downtown” at 3 in the morning, the day my life was gonna have a huge twist. Almost.Although, I didn’t know that. No one really ever does. When something big in your life happens, you can do three things. Except it, fight it, or find common ground between the two. And sometimes, that’s all you can do. As I went outside, I jogged over to the stables to find my mean-ass horse. She was the definition of take no shit give no shit. And I like that about her. In case you were wondering, her name is Seraphina. It means fiery spirit, and boy, that she was. I saddled her up, mounted, and we ran off into the moonlit night.

@somanydreams if u want 😭

[euphoricsunflowers]

sub drop — monsta x

request: Hey so I'm not entirely sure if you accept reaction requests if not then a headcanon is fine I was wondering how a male reader would take care of sub monsta x during a sub drop possibly a mix of for some it's their first ever sub drop and for others it's not, tysm n ily!!

a/n: sorry this took forever 😭😭 i hope you like it :,)

word count: 1.8k

content: sub!monsta x, none are smutty :), sub drop obviously, use of a safeword (minhyuk’s part), aftercare, just general sub/dom things,

—

son hyunwoo/shownu:

he can’t shake the feeling. he tries to just get over it, because while he obviously knows you care about him, he’s doesn’t want to let you know that anything is wrong. and he doesn’t even know what’s wrong with him.

it’s just that every time you’ve been holding him close, objectifying him in a way that he adores, making him feel like all he has to be is pretty to be worthy of praise, it doesn’t feel like it should. he’s so used to pressure, pressure, pressure. he’s used to high expectations, and he’s used to working hard because he can’t let people down. he’s always been adored, but with you, he doesn’t have to work for it.

and yet, it doesn’t have the same kick that it used to. he doesn’t get the high, airy, “in the clouds” feeling, at least not recently. he knows you can sense it, he’s a good actor but he’s not that good of an actor, and you can see it in his eyes. he’s getting uncomfortable and nervous.

“sweet bear,” you murmur as you wrap your arms around him, “what’s been going on with you? is everything alright?”

“i’m okay,” he responds blankly, but he holds you tightly like he doesn’t ever want to let you go, “i just haven’t been feeling great about… you know what recently.”

“ah, then that could be my fault. i need to take care of you better afterward. how about tonight we just relax, not as dominant and submissive, but just as lovers?”

“okay.”

lee hoseok/wonho:

you find him with tears on his cheeks as he cries silently. he either sobs unimaginably loud and buries himself into your arms for hours on end, or he’s quiet in your room with soft sniffles and hiccups heard from the other side of the door.

but he just lies there, crying. he looks so out of it, but in the worst way possible. he looks miserable, wallowing in the feelings that he’s silently submerged himself in hopes that you wouldn’t have to see him like this.

“hoseok, darling,” your words fill the room, and he’s suddenly so suffocated by all the darkness.

“please- i- please make it stop.”

you’re by his side in a second, “make what stop, baby?” he shakes his head, pulling you by your wrist onto the bed so you’re as close to him as possible as he cuddles and wraps himself around you like you’re a teddy bear, “sweetheart,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. he sighs comfortably with you close to him and playing with his hair always made him feel sleepy.

as the tears begin to stop, you lull him to sleep with little whispered nothings, “i love you, sweetheart. please let me know whenever you start to feel bad, okay? i want to be here for you.”

lee minhyuk:

it’s not like it never happens, but it’s still so unusual that it confuses him every time. it creeps up on him slowly until he’s lying beneath you, all dazed and under your control, with a sudden ache in his stomach. it’s anxiety and nervousness that he has no reason to be feeling, but he does.

he knows you wouldn’t want him to hide it, so he calls the safeword immediately, and the change in your expression and demeanor makes his heart swoon just a little bit. suddenly he’s free from the restraints and in your arms and you’re whispering sweet things to him, rubbing his chest to soothe the marks you’d left earlier.

“it's happening again,” he groans, “the thing we had talked about a while ago. when i started feeling bad all of a sudden.”

“ahh, okay. thanks for telling me, sweetheart,” you press a kiss to his forehead, “what i can do right now to help, besides the obvious aftercare stuff?”

“please just- tell me you didn’t mean the things you said to me.”

his plea makes your heart shatter just a bit, but you keep it together for his sake, “i meant none of it. you’re the most important and sweetest angel in my life, my darling sun. i could never mean it. you’re such a sweet soul, my perfect little vita-min,” he smiles softly, feeling so high and light, “i love you, min. don’t forget it.”

he's not mentally there enough to say it back, but you can feel it in the way he moves to hold your hand. you take it, and never let him go.

yoo kihyun:

kihyun is a good communicator… most of the time. he’s mostly gotten past the instinct to bury his feelings down and just deal with whatever’s happening because that had upset you in the past and he doesn’t like making you upset.

but he didn’t know how to verbalize these feelings that had slowly overtaken him. he’s never felt these paralyzing and hellish feelings before, they crept upon him, and the moment you were out that door, they hit him like a ton of bricks.

he wants to call out your name, he wants to cry, but he doesn’t. he can’t. he just lies there, swallowed up by the sheets as he suffocates on his own feelings.

“hey,” you whisper, catching his attention. he’s startled by your call, and you can see in his reaction and nervousness that he isn’t alright.

but he’s still kihyun, and this vulnerability he didn’t get to allow himself to show leaves him anxious, he doesn’t have a sense of control over his lack of control and it makes him uncomfortable.

“kihyun, baby, you’re alright,” you murmur as you kiss his forehead, “you’re okay. you don’t need to talk about it if you don’t want to, just tell me what you need. do you want me here with you? or would you rather me go sit in the other room?”

“with me,” he groans, offering up a spot on the bed next to him, “i want to hold you,” he says. he looks so small right now, especially because his fiery, intense, yet loving personality is just so big that you forget that he’s this fragile little thing sometimes. in that moment, all you felt like doing was holding him tightly and never letting go, protecting him from all the bad things and bad feelings.

but that wasn’t what he wanted. he’s still your kihyun, and this is his way of feeling better, “okay,” you say, “hold me close, will you?”

chae hyungwon:

hyungwon is naturally kind of embarrassed that he’s submissive to you. he hides it well, but he still asks that it not be brought up to any extent in conversation that involves other people. to the world, hyungwon is the one in control, and only behind closed doors does he fall to his knees for you.

but, still, that nervousness and shyness and anxiety eats away at him, makes him feel small and unconfident, and he starts to distance himself emotionally whenever he’s unhappy for any reason. you had done nothing wrong, but hyungwon still hasn’t found peace with the nature of your relationship.

it’s not that he’s deprived of what he wants, but being yours is what he wants, he just can’t stand for anyone else to know that.

and so these bad feelings manifest every now and then, but you and him are used to them. he gives himself a few hours to wallow in them, to truly feel them, and then he asks for a cute little date night as a reminder that your relationship is built off of love and not just dominance over him.

and of course, he requests that you sweet talk him the whole night, “i love you, wonnie. don’t ever believe otherwise, you hear me? you’re my perfect little butterfly, so tall and gorgeous and sweet and kind and loving and absolutely perfect. there’s nothing i don’t adore about you.”

it seems to do the trick.

lee jooheon:

he can’t tell when it happens, but you spot it every time. he becomes somewhat hostile towards you, of course, the feelings aren’t exactly what he wants to feel but he can’t help the amount to which he just becomes harsh and closed off.

but he still listens, still smiles faintly when you hold his hand, “jooheon, sweetheart, im sorry we’ve been neglecting your needs to the point where you feel this way, can you please just talk to me? can you tell me how you feel?”

“i- i don’t feel good. i don’t feel good about anything we do usually, and i’m stuck on why. i’m not hurt, you took care of me well after every session. and i’m just-”

he doesn’t finish his sentence, but you find the right words for him, “frustrated that you don’t understand your feelings?”

“yeah… yeah that’s about right. i’m not mad at you, i just- im mad that i don’t understand why i feel so bad right now.”

“joo, baby, this isn’t irrational or not normal. it’s completely fine to feel like this, and in fact, i’m glad you’re so in tune with your feelings that you’re really trying to understand and feel them completely. hiding them won’t do anything.”

“so- what do we do now?” he asks.

“whatever you want, my sweet bee. you come first tonight.”

im changkyun/i.m:

it had been days since the session, and yet the bad feelings wait to hit him when he’s making breakfast for himself, without you there. he’s not at home and won’t be for a while, and subsequently doesn’t have you there with him.

with the time difference that he forgot to take into account, you’re asleep when he calls. he tries to apologize heavily for waking you up, but since he woke you up, you’re not letting him hang up unless he tells you why he called.

“i didn’t feel well emotionally all of a sudden, and i just wanted to be with you,” he murmurs, and it shatters all of your tired little heart, “and this is the best i’ve got right now. i’m sorry for bothering you while you were asleep, my love.”

“don’t apologize for prioritizing your needs, kyun. do you want to talk?”

“not… really??”

“alright, then i’ll stay on the call with you. im gonna try to go back to sleep, but please let me know if you want to talk. no sleep is more important than my angel.”

—

taglist: @lovingonrepeat @neosincity @sub-hoshi-enthusiast @multidreams-and-desires @hobilluvvr @vanillaknj @yr-domxfantasies @treasure-hwa @fleurshopsub @rubyscloud9 @silencefavarchive @nct99 @bigkpopstan @monstaxdirtywonk @domreaderrecs @mochi-ficz and always feel free to ask to be added to/removed from the taglist <3

[angelguk]

ttinty oc is so DUMB, she’s just like me & maybe that’s why she’s irritating me so much bc it’s like GIRL….JUST TALK TO HIM ?? she deflects so so much it hurts, whole time i’m reading i’m like “YES TALK TO HIM GO GO” but in reality if i was in this situation i’d be the same way…but it gets to a certain point where you gotta say fuck it bc why are you sitting at home wallowing, he’s not gonna kill you if you say you like him, i promise (unless…nah) ! but at the same time don’t because i want him to kind of beg for her but he’s not doing that so it’s like……tf is she supposed to do :/ jk is dumb too, i guess he can have other girl friends but use context clues, when did oc start acting different….when you met homegirl, right exactly !! i guess that’s the whole point of the “requited love but miscommunication is a bitch” plot, but damn ! i need them to step it up.. atp tae is my favorite, that’s my guyyy fr fr he’s annoying but i can handle it, oh wait & chaeyoung too !! my favs are the people that don’t like each other i guess, actually everyone besides the main two characters right now..maybe nayoung too, though i don’t want to dislike her over HIM but nevertheless i can’t help myself bc why are you all up on him 24/7, can he BREATHE ?? ughhh i’m sorry i just have no one else to rant to & i really like this story which is why i am so frustrated, i just want them to work things out & stop being so scary..STAND UP ! as for requests on what happens next, i’ll have to think some more, idk i kind of want it to be messy but not toooo messy that it goes beyond recovery…maybe i just want jk to pine really really bad, i need him to suffer too just so i know oc isn’t the only one having inner turmoil…idk idk, but just know i loveee your writing & this story so thank you sm 💞 if you actually read this i’ll give you the biggest hug, even if you don’t i still will bc getting this off my chest feels good so it’s a win win. (also please i hope me calling them dumb doesn’t sound harsh or anything, it just feels like the best word to use for their actions ig ? yeah sorry) okay, byeee :)

no because even as i was writing i was like this girl is so STEWPID but then again u dont have to like everything ur character does... oh but i disagree about the whole its not gonna kill you to tell him.... considering jungkook and ocs history it really just might. taehyung having fans is crazy cause all i wanna do is punch him if im being honest and also thank u for reading!!! this is such a sweet message to receive honestly i appreciate the way u care about this story!! dont worry i think the characters are being dumb too but this is how angst is created no?

[starsstruck]

shampoo bottles

a friends with benefits gone wrong. harry can’t bring himself to get rid of everything you’ve left at his place after things fall apart. beat up red cars, crumpled sweatshirts and of course, shampoo bottles.

based off the song “shampoo bottles” by peach pit.

pairing: harry x reader words: 6.9k rating: M

a/n: this is just a little something i had inspiration for ! like i said its based off the song “shampoo bottles” by peach pit (great song great band). its an OU but im not regarding tour dates or quarantine or wtv, i just have dates so its easier to follow since i go back and forth a lot ! its a bit of a different writing style than ive done before so hopefully everyone likes it ! would love to hear what you think, and enjoy !

                                                            ***

November 20th

The shampoo bottles taunted him.

The worst part was Harry wished they weren’t empty. He wished that there was still even a drop left in them so that he could rub it through his own hair. Although having milked them of their last contents weeks ago, they still sat in the corner of his shower.

The smell lingered on them. The sweet smell of some flower, maybe some orange blossom, he didn’t ever really know. All he knew is that he was addicted to the smell, and seeing the bottles sit in the corner as he showered made him feel like he could smell them, like he could smell you.

He remembered the day you brought the bottles over, claiming to be annoyed with the way his shampoo just wasn’t the same. The idea of you smelling like him brought a heat to his stomach, he liked the smell of your shampoo even better. And now the bottles sat there. Taunting him.

October 15th

“What’s with the bag?” Laughing as he pointed at the bag in your hand, he wondered what you could possibly be bringing with you to the washroom.

“Brought my own shampoo,” you pulled a bottle out of the canvas tote bag around you were holding, smile wide on your lips. “And some other things. Hope you don’t mind.”

He jutted his lips out in a mock pout. “What’s wrong with my things?”

“Don’t like your shampoo.” You hummed, disappearing behind the still open door frame that led to the washroom. “Don’t worry! I still like your nice moisturizer, does wonders for my skin.”

He scrambled up in his sheets at the sound of the shower turning on. Standing in the door frame of the washroom, he watched as you pulled off your underwear and dropped them aside. He knew that you could feel him watching you, and that you were pretending not to notice or care.

Stepping into the shower, shutting the glass door behind you as you let the water hit your back. He stayed where he was for a minute, until steam was beginning to fog the glass door that separated you two and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Let me do that,” humming as he stepped into the shower next to you, just as you were reaching for the shampoo bottle that you brought.

“Awfully nice of you,” moving aside slightly, you passed him the shampoo bottle. Moving around so that he stood directly in front of, you letting you stand under the stream of water. Squeezing some shampoo out onto his hand, he put the bottle down and rubbed his hand through your hair.

“Feels nice,” you shut your eyes, Harry watched water droplets fall down your forehead that end up getting caught in your eyelashes. He brough both hands to your head, massaging the shampoo in. Taking extra time to rub his fingertips into your scalp, enjoying the content smile on your lips as you leaned into his touch.

He knew you, he knew you well. In this moment he knew that you were doing it on purpose: the small moans in the back of your throat as he rubbed his hands against your head, the way you arched your back slightly, and the way you titled your head back in the same way you did when his head was between your thighs.

Tilting your head in his hands so that the stream of water hit your scalp, rinsing out the suds. The smell around him was only of the sweet orange blossom mixed with something else, he could never put his finger on it.

“All done,” he grinned, tapping your eyelid gently. He watched as you rubbed the water from your eyes, blinking them open to gaze into his.

He kept his hands around you, dropping to your shoulder as he pulled himself closer to you. Semi hard length pressing into your thigh, your eyes dropped down and were soon followed by your hands. Jolt sent through his abdomen as your warm hands wrapped around him, lightly tugging and pulling.

“’s nice,” he mumbled, feeling the blood leave his brain and relocate between his legs. Your grip tightened around him, thumb rubbing over his tip in a way that made his hips buck into your hand. His grip around you tightened when your eyes met his again, tongue darting out to lick water from your lips.

His legs nearly buckled when you dropped down to your knees, remaining under the shower stream. He didn’t mind being in the colder side of the shower, especially if you were going to be on your knees in front of him.

“Want to get me in your mouth?” His voice nearly surprised him at its hoarseness. It wasn’t like he hadn’t had you like this before, it was just that every time you had your hands on him it drove him completely crazy.

Watching your slow nod, Harry wrapped a hand over your head, tugging on the recently washed strands as he encouraged you. Not able to take his eyes off of you as you wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, slowly easing him into your mouth until your lips met where your hand was still wrapped around him.

“Look so good like this.”

November 20th

His hand didn’t do you justice, but it was all he had. It was like the smell of your shampoo filled his senses every time he stepped foot in his shower, no every time he stepped foot in his washroom. Every time he saw those goddamn shampoo bottles sitting. Untouched.

He just couldn’t bring himself to throw them out.

Nothing could clear his mind. It had been weeks, and nothing he did could get his mind off of you. Maybe that was his own fault. He knew it was his own fault. His place was littered with traces of you.

Part of him probably got something out of his pain, but he didn’t care.

Not when he couldn’t bring himself to clean out his bathroom, because of the way your toothbrush sat so nicely next to his. Or the way you had brought him some organic soaps, claiming they smelt really good and were made out of all kind of nice essential oils.

He couldn’t even bring himself to use that bar of soap, knowing the more he used it the smaller it would get, and soon it’d be gone.

But his wallowing really hit an all time high when he found your sweatshirt.

He really thought you had taken all your clothes with you. You didn’t leave a lot of them at his place to begin with. Clothes being the one thing you claimed you didn’t need as you helped yourself freely to his closet.

But when he was going through said closet, he found a bunched up blue sweatshirt he had forgotten he kept.

September 2nd

It was an odd rainy night, and Harry didn’t feel like going out. He was no stranger to poor weather, but the rain seemed to be the last thing he needed to decided that he would rather stay in. Relieved when you had shared his opinion, agreeing to come over with a bottle of margarita mix. It was just the two of you, Harry just wanted a calm night in with his friend and maybe a couple drinks, ones they could make themselves.

Soon you were seated on his couch, leaning against the armrest with your feet pointed towards him. Cozy in your sweatshirt, gripping your drink tight between your fingers.  

“Would you let me draw one for you?”

You spluttered out a laugh at his request. “God no!” Your laugh deepened when you glanced up at him. “Nothing against you, Harry. Just want a professional to do it.”

The movie put in was long forgotten, now facing each other and talking about where you should get your first tattoo. You had told him what you wanted to get, you just had no idea where it should go.

“Fine,” he huffed, playfully of course. His head felt hazy, couple of drinks have come and gone and he was still nursing another strong cocktail in his hands. “So, where are you gonna get it?”

“That’s the problem,” you muttered, taking a big sip of your drink. “I don’t think I want it really visible, like not on my arms or anything.”

Harry nodded, knowing that you were nervous about regretting a tattoo. “You thinking maybe around your ribs?”

He watched as you lifted your sweatshirt a bit, finger tips brushing over your ribcage. “I don’t know – heard it hurts really bad there.”

“Not too much,” Harry thought over his own experience, although knowing you were a bit more uneasy with needles.

“I was thinking like,” you patted the spot where you hipbone was. “My hip. Kind of cute, no?”

He bit back a smile. “Very cute.” The alcohol spoke before he could. He thought it was much more than cute, he thought that a tattoo on your hip was the best idea you’d had in years.

“Plus it’s kind of,” you paused, licking your lips. “Intimate.”

He sucked in a breath. He didn’t like the idea of someone else finding your tattoo. A tattoo that he was helping you figure out. He didn’t like the idea of someone kissing it, of someone peeling off your pants and being delighted to see a little tattoo there, just for them.

It was selfish of him, and he knew it wasn’t right. The two of you had both been single for a while and he had gotten so used to having you around, he was getting jealous at the thought of someone taking you away from him.

“You’re out of it,” you giggled, after a moment too long in silence.

Harry broke himself out of his daze. “’m not drunk,” he muttered into his glass, although he was. And the alcohol was clouding his mind, and he didn’t know what to do about it. “Hip is a really good idea.”

Mentally wincing at how eager he sounded, he watched as you nodded, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. “Think it’ll hurt a lot?”

He chuckled to himself. “It’s a tattoo darling, course it’ll hurt a bit. I can come wit’ you if you want, hold your hand and all.”

Smile broke out on your face, teeth no longer gnawing on your lip. “That’d be nice,” humming as you placed your drink on the table in front of you. “Did yours hurt a lot?”

“Couple of them were a bit more painful, yeah.” He nodded, honestly not really remembering. “Get used to it after a while. One’s on my chest were probably the worst.”

“I like your butterfly,” you moved a foot out, nudging his thigh with it. “I would be too scared to get something that big though.”

“You’ll see,” he laughed. “Once you get one you won’t be able to stop.” He mindlessly trailed his hand over his shirt, where his tattoo rested.

“Don’t know about that. I don’t know if I would want a too many,” you hummed into your cup. “I do like all of yours though.”

“Yeah?” He sat up straighter. “Which ones your favourite?”

You sit up straighter as well, shuffling towards him a bit on the couch. “Can’t choose just one.” He tried not to jolt when your fingertips met his forearm, gently trailing up and following the lines of his tattoos. “What about you?”

He was silent for another moment too long, watching your fingers move up his arm. Finally glancing up at you, meeting your eyes with a lazy smile. “Don’t know either.”

“You’re completely pissed,” you laughed at his slow response, his hand moved without thinking, and pinched your cheek.

“Maybe,” his mouth and hands were working without his mind. “Skin is burning hot darling.” Hand smoothing around your face, he moved away for a second to place his drink next to yours on the table before tapping your forehead with a cool fingertip.

“’s cold,” you laughed, eyes shutting in a slow blink. “I heard,” you paused for another moment, as Harry brought his hand away from your face. “Heard tattoos feel like a bunch of little scratches.”

“Something like that,” he hummed, not being able to recall any tattoos he’s ever gotten in this moment.

“It’s like,” he moved his hand to your waist, lightly pushing under your sweatshirt. If he weren’t so close to you, he would’ve missed the little gasp that left your lips. “Like this.”

His nails weren’t nearly long enough to properly scratch at your skin, but he slowly dragged them along your ribs. “But faster, and it’s a needle.”

“Doesn’t really sound like the same thing,” your laugh sounded nervous, nearly breathless.

“Not really no,” he laughed lightly. Shuffling even closer to you, leg pressing against your knee. The smell of your shampoo overwhelmed him, he had always loved it and in his intoxication, it was the most potent smell ever.

“What are you doing,” your voice dropped down to a whisper. Where his hand had earlier been on your cheek, he pressed a little kiss.

“I’m just,” Harry didn’t know what he was doing. He just wanted to feel your skin under his lips, he just wanted to be close to you. “Helping ya’ out with tattoo ideas.”

He pressed another series of kisses to your cheek, eliciting a sigh from your lips. You didn’t push him away, and his hand that had been scratching at your waist gripped onto your skin.

“’s just me,” he babbled. “Skin’s so warm, can’t help –” he breathed in deeply, hand on your waist moving to your knee. He gently pushed your leg aside as he settled himself in closer to you. His lips were by your jaw, and he wanted so badly to feel your own mouth under his. “– can’t help m’self.”

You didn’t move under him, except for a single hand coming up to grip the neckline of his shirt. “Le’ me,” he pleaded, voice low. “Please, let me.”

You tilted your head up a bit towards him, lips ever so lightly parted. “Go ahead.”

He took that as all the invitation he needed, mouth sliding from your chin to cover yours. He sighed into your mouth, knee coming up to the couch as he repositioned himself.

He kissed you deep, tasting you for the first time and not able to get enough of it. Your hand on his shirt slid around his neck, gripping tightly onto his skin as you pulled him closer. His hand gripped your leg, thumb rubbing small circles through the loose materials of your sweats.

“’s good, you’re so –” Harry couldn’t form one coherent sentence. He wanted to feel you everywhere, he wanted to cross this uncharted territory and feel your skin on his. A part of him, a tiny part of him in the back of his head was telling him this wasn’t right but he was pissed and he wanted you. Badly.

“Harry,” your voice was a dream. He had moved his mouth down your jaw again, this time biting and licking as he moved down your neck.

“Jus’ wanna kiss – want a taste.”

He lifted himself from you for a moment, helping you reposition yourself so that you could lay on your back, Harry hovering nearly awkwardly over you but he didn’t care. It was a flurry of lips on skin and quick moving hands. He pushed a hand under your sweatshirt, delighted in finding you not wearing a bra, while you shared lime flavoured kisses.

You were pushing your hips against his, rubbing against him in a way that made his breath catch in the back of his throat. He was hard and heavy in his sweatpants, drunk enough that he if he kept grinding against your hip in the way he was now, he wouldn’t last very long.

“Fuck,” you whimpered from under him, his fingers pinching and pulling at your nipple under your sweatshirt while his mouth met yours again.

He snaked his hand down your tummy, only hesitating when he met the band of your sweatpants. “Want to,” he panted, “wanna feel you.”

“Yes.” The single word was a moan from your lips, as his hand pushed past your pants. Fingers snaking under your underwear, he nearly choked when he pushed through your folds.

“Fuck me,” he never wanted to leave you. “You always get this wet?”

You only whimpered from under him again, head pushing into the cushion of the couch as he circled your clit. He focused on the way you whined and pleaded under him; the way you jolted when he pushed a finger inside of you, and then two.

You were warm, he couldn’t get over how hot your skin was all over and how much it made him melt. His lips were gliding all over your skin, sucking sweetly on your neck and moving roughly over your mouth. Catching your moans into his open mouth as if he could keep them forever.

“I – Harry please don’t stop,” you were squirming underneath of him. Arching yourself off the couch, pushing yourself against him.

Rush through his body at how desperate you sounded, at the way his name was moaned from your lips. “Cum fo’ me darling,” he curled his fingers inside of you, pushing every spot that made you gasp.

He worked you over the edge, eyes narrowing on every move you made. And when you clenched around his fingers, thighs clamping together and back rising from the bed, he wished he could stay in this moment forever.

After a moment you peaked your eyes open, lazy smile on your lips as he pulled you in for a deep kiss. Wet fingers slipping out from under your sweats, gripping your skin.

“So gorgeous, you – fuck –” he bucked into your hand as he felt you palm over his bulge. Your lips pressed into this straining neck, your turn to lick and bite at his skin while you grabbed at his cock over his pants.

“That’s it,” he praises, hips bucking against your hand. Your fingers trickled under the band of his sweatpants, gripping him blindly. Your other hand was patting his shoulder, nudging him with a muffled voice. “Harry, move up a bit.”

He scrambled up to his knees, pulling you up with him until he sat with his back against the couch with you on his lap. You were pushing up his shirt, kissing at his neck while your hand gently jerked him off.

“Jesus you’re –” he fell into your touch, leaning against you. The whine that left his throat as your hand left his cock came from deep in his chest. Watching closely as you spat into your hand before shifting over him again.

He couldn’t help the way he gripped your thighs as you worked your hand over him, until he was bucking his hips into your hand. A whining mess, begging you over and over again to keep going, to not stop and to never leave him.

“You are – fuck,” he held you tight as he dropped is head in the crook of your neck, breathing uneven as he came on your hand. After a moment he pulled you in for a sloppy kiss, helping you off the couch with wobbly legs to get the both of you cleaned up.

November 20th

He remembers that day like it was yesterday. The way you whined and whimpered under him for the first time, the way he found himself intoxicated (and not just by the alcohol).

Shy smiles were shared as he offered you stay the night, too late and both still too intoxicated to drive. You had decided you were too hot in your sweatshirt and grabbed one of his shirts instead. He pulled you in close under his sheets, kissing over your exposed skin and wanting to melt in the warmth coming off your body.

And apparently, you had completely forgotten about your sweatshirt.

The next morning neither of you said anything. Nothing of the sorts was even brought up again until a week later when you guys were out for a drink and he suddenly ached to have you under him. He had kissed you outside the bar, pulling you home with him until you were sat on his thigh grinding and moaning against him.

It had continued that way for a couple more weeks, neither of you really making any mention of it except for slipping hands under clothing and stealing kisses after a couple drinks.

That was, until you had sex for the first time. He was barely drunk, only needing one drink as an excuse to call you. Bugging you nonstop from outside the bar, wanting you to be there with him. He had managed to get you to drive over and pick him up, in your sweats and his shirt because you had been just about to go to bed.

You had walked him into his place, making sure he drank two glasses of water before he pulled you into bed with him, saying that since you were already ready for bed you may as well just stay the night there with him.

Cuddling into you, he couldn’t help kissing his way down until soon he had you on your back with his head between your thighs. Telling you over and over again that it was a ‘thank you’ for coming to pick him up.

But it wasn’t enough for him to grind against the mattress, while he pulled an orgasm out of you. He was greedy, he wanted another one, he wanted to feel you everywhere.

He eased you up to your knees, bending you over on the mattress with your ass in the air while he fumbled with the condom. It was everything he could’ve dreamt of and more, so much more. He couldn’t get enough, and didn’t think he ever would.  Holding your close against him, chest pressed to your back as he praised you endlessly. You were just as warm around him as you were his fingers, and he had to grip you so tight to make sure it was real.

Both ending the night passed out side by side, he knew the next morning he needed to say something.

September 19th

“Bit sore,” you laughed, following him around the corner from the washroom. He was getting some breakfast ready, and the sight of you standing in his shirt and nothing else made him want to take you over the counter again.

“Sorry about that,” he smiled, mind worrying over what to say next. “I – last night was fun, yeah?”

Leaning against the counter next to him, grabbing a handful of grapes from the bowl in front of you. “It was,” you voice was quiet, nearly timid.

“I –,” he paused again, unable to form the sentences he wanted to. ‘I like fooling around with you’ or ‘I like fucking you’ didn’t sound nice rolling off the tongue. “I like doing… what we’re doing. And I want to keep doing what we’re doing. If you do too.” He bit his lips together, mentally cringing at how awkward he sounded.

“I do too,” you said, averting your eyes from his as you nodded. “Both single, and it’s been a while, and…” Harry was relieved to see you also didn’t seem to know how to voice your feelings. “We’re friends.”

He nodded slowly, watching your every move. “Then, we’re doing this? Don’t need to wait for an excuse to have you come over anymore?”

Laughing lightly, you finally met his eyes. “Yeah,” you voice was airy. “But if either of us meet someone or need to end it, we do. Right?”

“Right,” he nodded, almost too eagerly and the new agreement. “What do you want for breakfast?”

November 23rd

Apparently, he couldn’t escape you outside of his house either. Deciding that wallowing by himself wasn’t going to get him anywhere, he thought that maybe a run would help clear his mind. It worked, for a good ten minutes before he stopped dead in his tracks.

Blocks away from his place he saw a red car parked. The same make and model of your red car.

Was it you? Could it be you? What are you doing so close to his house? He hadn’t spoken to you in weeks, not since the fight that made you leave in such a rush that you left your shampoo bottles in his shower.

Tentatively walking towards the parked car, not seeing the pendant that you kept hanging off the review mirror. He decided it was too risky, that if it was your car, he wasn’t ready to see you, especially if he was snooping around your car.

But the car was still there the next day. Deciding fuck it, and walked towards it, hoping he didn’t look suspicious for whatever reason. As he got closer, he saw for a fact that there was no pendant hanging from the review mirror, and that those dents by the door were not there.

It wasn’t you.

He didn’t know if he was upset or relieved. He almost missed those dents on the door, always telling you to get it fixed. Stubborn as always, constantly telling him that “I don’t need to get it fixed if it doesn’t affect how it drives.”

That car was the last thing he saw before you left his house the last time he saw you.  

November 5th

“What are you feeling for dinner?”

You hummed, opening up his fridge to stare at the contents. “We can make…” you were mumbling to yourself, examining the contents. “Do you have rice? We can make a stir fry,” you squinted in the fridge.

“Sounds good,” reaching through his cupboards for a pan, as you grabbed a cutting board and a knife, always preferring to chop the vegetables. “How’s your week?”

“Fine,” mumbling from where you stood across from him in the kitchen. “Work was the same, not to stressful right now which is nice. I, uh –”

He looked up at the hesitation in your voice. “I had a date.”

He nearly let go of the pot in his hand. He felt his stomach dropping, happy to be occupied with turning on the stove as he didn’t have to face you. “Yeah?” trying to keep his face calm before turning around to you again. “With who?”

“A guy from work,” you were averting your eyes, twisting the ring around your middle finger. You were nervous, he realized.

“How’d it go?”

“Okay,” you shrugged, looking down at your hands as they worked chopping the onion on the board in front of you. “We um –”

Finally you looked up at him. “We didn’t do anything.”

He didn’t know what to say. “Didn’t do it for you?” He tried to joke, but based off your expression he realized that really wasn’t what he should’ve said.

“Just thought you should know,” you looked away from him again, voice quiet. “Since y’know, we’re…”

Condoms had been long forgotten between the two of you. It was a silent agreement, that one should tell the other if they were going to be having sex with someone else. But for some reason, Harry had never imagined that conversation happening.

“Are you,” he tried to not let his voice shake. “Are you telling me you want to sleep with him?”

“No,” you shrugged slightly, pushing the onion around with the knife. “Don’t think that’ll happen. Just thought you should know.”

He willed himself to seem unbothered. “Okay.”

Back towards you again, pouring some oil into the pan on the burner. He could feel you watching him. Spinning back around, he saw you with your lips pressed to a thin line.

“What if I did want to sleep with him though?”

“You said you didn’t.” He desperately needed to change the subject.

“But what if?” For the first time, he realized he couldn’t read what you were thinking.

“Are you saying you want to end this?” Avoiding the question once again, he hated himself for the way he did it.

You blinked quickly, as if physically affected by his words. “I mean no, but,” you paused, and he panicked over what the end of that sentence would be. “What we’re doing its not – I mean what are we doing?”

He hated the tone of your voice, he hated how anxious you sounded. But instead of wrapping you into his arms like he wanted – and should have – he tried to swallow back any feelings he thought he might have for you. “We – we’re both taking advantage of the situation, no? Both being single and all.”

Your eyes narrowed on him. “So that’s it then? Call me over when you’ve had a few drinks and your hand isn’t enough to get you off?”

Fuck. “Darling that’s not –”

“Don’t. I practically live here, Harry. It’s not just ‘taking advantage of the situation’.”

The oil popped on the pan behind him, burner getting too hot. Swearing under his breath, turning back around to shove the pan off the heat. “I have half my things here. Wasn’t like this when we were just friends.”

Facing you again, he breathed out a sigh trying to calm himself down. “You didn’t have to bring your things over.”

You snapped your head up at his words. “That’s a low fucking blow.”

Suddenly you were moving away from him, away from the kitchen. He swore to himself again, hating himself for the way he handled the conversation. He hated himself for the way he avoided where the conversation seemed to be heading, to having him admit he wanted more from your relationship.

Calling your name behind you, watching with wide eyes as you grabbed your bag form the table, throwing it over your shoulder. “What are you…?”

“’m leaving.” Muttering as you brushed past him, heading towards the door.

Fuck. “Wait no,” he reached for your shoulder, hating the way you shrugged him off although you still spun around to him. “I – I didn’t mean it like that. I just,” he needed to say something, anything to get you to stay. “What are you saying?”

You sighed, dipping down to tug on your shoes. “I don’t know what I’m saying Harry. Maybe,” you sighed, gazing up at him. You looked tired, and sad. He hated it. “Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe we should stop.”

All his blood left his body. No. “You want to stop?” This time he wasn’t able to hide the shake in his voice.

“I gotta go Harry.” You turned away from him, reaching for the doorknob.

“Wait,” he repeated your name over and over. “Don’t leave please –”

You refused to look at him, spinning away from him. He continued calling after you, pleading you to come back but soon you were backing out of his driveway and turning around the corner.

November 24th

In hindsight, he realized he should’ve just told you he wanted you all to himself. He didn’t handle it well; he knew that then and he knows it now.

What he didn’t know at the time, what he refused to let himself think was that he wanted more with you and probably always had.

Recalling the first-time boundaries were crossed when he kissed you; the jealousy he felt when he thought about someone else being able to see the tattoo on your hip.

He remembered when you had gotten that tattoo, the skin still sensitive and wrapped in protective plastic. He still kissed at it, pulling small whimpers from the back of your throat.

He supposes that boundaries were disappearing when you started bringing over and leaving your things at his place, including those goddamn shampoo bottles. You were right to question him over the nature of your relationship, but he was too stupid and stubborn in the moment that he chose to push you away instead of admitting his feelings.

Fiddling with his phone in his hand, opening and closing your contact in his texts. He had drafted countless unsent messages, but had ultimately left you in radio silence.

And how fucked was that?

He didn’t care if it had been three weeks, or two weeks and five days to be exact. He pressed his phone to his ear, holding his breath as the phone on the other end rang.

After the second ringer, he was sure you wouldn’t pick up. He was about to end the call altogether, not having the heart to face your voicemail when a quiet “hello” spoke through the line.

“Hi,” he couldn’t breath. “It’s me – it’s Harry.”

“I know,” your voice sent a jolt through his chest.

“Didn’t think you would pick up.” He laughed humourlessly, realizing in all the fake conversations he had with you in his head he never really was prepared.

“I can hang up if you wan –”

“No,” he spoke quickly. “Sorry I just…” I love you. “I just want to talk to you, need to talk to you.”

You remained silent on the other end. “Can we meet? I can come over are we can get coffee or anything, up to you, I just need to see you.”

You were silent again, and he needed to check his phone to make sure the call was still ongoing. “I can be at yours in 15.”

His heart flipped. “Yes, that’s perfect. I – yes, see you soon.”

It was probably the longest fifteen minutes of his life. He spent it pacing around his place, trying to tidy up but ultimately not getting anything done. By the ten minute mark he was sure you weren’t coming, but right on time you were pulling that beat up red car into his driveway.

The sight of you was making him flush. Seeing you in his space, in his company like nothing had ever changed.

“How are you?” He could hear the nerves in his own voice.

“Fine,” the word was muttered, as you tentatively sat down on his couch. The very spot he had first kissed you, he realized.

“Can I get you anything?”

“No, Harry, I’m not here to chit chat.”

He nodded, knowing you were right and sat far across from you on the couch, watching as you hugged your knees to your chest.

“I know, I –” he looked down at his hands, fiddling with his rings. “I miss you. And I’m really sorry for everything, for the way I handled everything.”

You looked up at him at his words, fidgeting with your sleeves. “I miss you too.”

“I really… I really fucked up and losing you was the last thing I wanted.” He needed to look away from you. “You were right, about us. We shouldn’t – I shouldn’t have let things get to be the way they did.”

“What do you mean?” Your voice was small, calculated.

“I mean… I was being selfish. I – fuck I wanted more and I was being selfish with you.”

He tried to gage your reaction, but just like last time he wasn’t able to read your expression. “When you asked me what we were doing, when you said all that I panicked. Thought you might try and end things, I was too in my ass about my feelings I just… fucked up.”

“You wanted more?”

“I did – I do.”

You were quiet, too quiet. After a moment in silence, you suddenly stood. “I have to go to the washroom.”

He could only nod, standing as well as he watched you disappear behind the door. Grabbing himself a glass of water, having no idea what you were thinking in this moment. He was wrong before, when he thought that those fifteen minutes were the longest of his life. This moment right now seemed to last so much longer.

You finally reappeared a couple minutes later, joining him in the kitchen but still standing at a distance. He had no idea what to say, he wished for you to say something, anything.

“You kept all my things.”

“What?”

You pointed to the bathroom behind you. “All my things, my toothbrush my shampoo… figured you’d throw them out.”

He smiled a weak smile. “Would never. Can’t bring myself to. Plus, you know I love the smell of your shampoo.”

“I’m sorry I left that day.” You were fiddling with the sleeves of your shirt again.

“Don’t be, I was a dick. I didn’t know … I didn’t know how to deal with my feelings. Couldn’t get my shit together. I just didn’t want to lose you.”

As you nodded, he was relieved to see your expression start softening a bit.

“I need you in my life, in any capacity. If you need time I get it, but I just can’t… I need to know you’ll be in my life.”

You were worrying your lip, slowly nodding as you took in his words. “I shouldn’t have pushed you that day. I was trying to… it wasn’t fair of me.”

“Stop apologizing darling,” he liked the way the pet name rolled off his tongue again. The two of you stood in silence for a moment again.

“I wanted more too.” Nearly giving himself whiplash for how quickly he snapped his head towards you at your words. You weren’t looking at him, eyes dropped down to where your hands tapped nervously against the counter.

“I – you did?”

You only nodded, watching as you twirled your ring around your finger.

“Never said anything…”

Glancing up at him finally, crossing your arms over your chest. ���Well…neither did you. Plus, I thought I was, I don’t know, making it obvious. Spending nearly every night here and all… I was sort of trying to bring it up that day we fought.”

“Truly fucked that up, didn’t I?” He rubbed his hand over his forehead, pushing his hair up. You only hummed, and his heart nearly soared when you saw the corner of your lips twitch in a smile.

He couldn’t help the smile starting to build on his lips either, trying to swallow down his anxiety before asking you what he wanted to. “Do you still?”

“Do I still what?” You were really making him say it.

“Do you still… want more. With me.” He watched you intently, watched your eyes flick away from his; to your hands to the counter and around the room, before meeting his own again.

“Well… came over, didn’t I?”

Heat rushed through his body as he processed your words. “Is that a yes?” His words were a rush of a breath. He found himself walking across the kitchen towards you until he was standing in front of you, keeping a gap but still being the closest he’d been to you all night.

“Yes.” Every nerve in his body urged to jump forward towards you at your whispered word, but he held himself back.

“Good,” his voice matched yours: quiet, breathless.

He wanted to pull you in his arms, to push you against the counter leaving no room between the two of you but he also didn’t want to assume you’d jump right into it; maybe you’d want a bit of time, maybe you were still mad –

Any second thought flew out of his mind when the light touch of your fingertips met his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. His own hand instinctively wrapped around your waist, other hand sliding to your cheek, fitting with you like nothing ever changed.

Mouth quickly met his, and it was like kissing you for the first time all over again. You were still just as warm against him, still smelt like the shampoo that you left in his shower.

Your lips were light against his at first, a ghost of a touch as you pressed yourself against him and bunched the collar of his shirt in a fist. His hand on your cheek moved to tilt your head up to him slightly, as he held you tight against him not wanting you to ever leave.

A small sigh left your lips as he took a step forward, pushing lightly back to trap you between the counter and himself. Kiss quickly deepening as you let him taste deeper into your mouth, wandering hands pushing up under your shirt.

You were tugging at his hair as he pulled small whines from the back of your throat, gripping your thigh tightly as he helped you sit up on the counter. Mouth leaving yours with a pant, he reveled in the way you hooked your legs around him to keep him against you.

“Missed you,” he kissed the corner of your mouth. “So,” lips moved down your jaw. “Fucking much.”

He loved the sigh you made at his words; he loved every sound you made. Resting his forehead on yours for a moment, lips barely brushing. “You’re so warm darling. Missed kissing you, missed being with you.”

“Me too,” you whispered, pecking a small kiss to his mouth.

“I get to be with you, right?”

“Yes,” his heart soared at the single word. He was enamoured with the smile that took over your face. “Might still be a bit mad a you though.”

His smile matched yours, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Sounds like I have some making up to do.”

[levi-ish]

Little Talks | 3

Pairing: Bartender!Levi X Reader

Genre: [+18] Slice of life, drama, romance, fluff, smut

Words: 4k

Warnings: Alcohol, cheating mentions, drugs, cussing

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Masterlist

You [18:21PM]: idk what to wear, help!!!

Mikasa-tu-casa [18:21PM]: u dont need to go all fancy, its just us.

Sash [18:22PM]: wdym??? Its my bday bitch, fuck yea go all out. i am wearing my best dress.

Annes [18:23PM]: whats the point if ur gonna throw up all over it

Sash [18:23PM]: im gonna be hot, that’s the point.

Mikasa-tu-casa [18:24PM]: where are we going again?

Sash [18:24PM]: that same bar from ur bday, (y/n) suggested it

Annes [18:24PM]: my friend works there

You [18:25PM]: ur friend? Jean?

Annes [18:25PM]: yea, we had chem together last semester. hes rich.

Sash [18:26PM]: ohhh I remember him hes the hot bartender. didnt (y/n) make out w him?

You [18:26PM]: wtf i did not

Mikasa-tu-casa [18:26PM]: he was kinda cute

Sash [18:27PM]: ok im gonna shower

Annes [18:27PM]: aren’t we gonna meet at 9?

Sash [18:28PM]: it takes long to look this good also nic is bringing my present and I wanna look good for him

You [18:29PM]: aww cute

Mikasa-tu-casa [18:29PM]: just finishing up some work then im getting ready

You [18:30PM]: are we meeting in the front or are we carpooling?

Mikasa-tu-casa [18:30PM]: annie said armin was going to pick us up

Annes [18:31PM]: he is

You [18:31PM]: see you there then

You took a last glance at the mirror, adjusting your hair so not one strand would be out of place. Two sprays of perfume on your neck and inside your tan sweater and you were ready, running your hands through your skirt to eliminate any wrinkles as you sat on the sofa and scrolled through your phone as you waited for your friends to pick you up.

It took longer than usual to get dressed tonight; you wanted to look good. After the drunken rendezvous with Jean and Levi, you felt too ashamed to come back to the bar, but something inside you bubbled in warmth when you thought about how those strong arms held your hazy frame, holding you close and breaths mingling together…

A honk from outside took you away from your thoughts and you shook your head, grabbing your keys and leaving the apartment.

You entered the white car and found Annie and Armin on the front seats, saluting you as you hugged Mikasa that was sitting in the back.

“Where’s Sasha?” you asked and Annie looked over her shoulder.

“She said something about her present taking a little longer, but she’s joining us later” you nodded and hugged your body as you watched the outside run by while Armin drove carefully.

The drive to the bar wasn’t long, but every little second seemed to last ages; heart pounding inside your chest and hands slightly shaking as they hugged your body. Armin and Mikasa were making small talk as you kept on thinking about Levi, and how everything changed the second he touched you. He surely was a handsome man, and you liked how he seemed to care even if it was in his own weird way.

As you arrived, Sasha was already waiting in the front and with her arms open to hug you three. Armin gave the girl a small hug and kissed Annie’s cheek before leaving you girls to enjoy your night. It was Friday, so the place was bubbling with people from the inside out, some smoking outside and some were at the door, drinking from their bottles as they talked about stuff and laughed loudly.

You were fading away slowly from the conversation as the girls talked about multiple stuff, you didn’t want to be like that, but your whole head was full of anxiety and thoughts about the short man, hoping to see those grey eyes and enjoy his presence from afar. Maybe you would even have the chance to apologize for giving him trouble.

Sasha led the way and found you guys an empty booth, sitting by your side as Annie and Mikasa sat in front of you, and your eyes kept wandering around, trying to spot him. You saw Jean, mixing drinks without any skill and the other person behind the counter, hair up in a ponytail and talking using a lot of hand gestures. You didn’t remember their name though; it was something like Zoey?

You offered to get their drinks and excused yourself to the counter, walking slowly as you kept looking around for just a sight of the man, unsuccessfully. Jean seemed to be busy so the other bartender found you and introduced themselves as Hange, getting excited over how the night was buzzing. You noticed how they exchanged some looks with the busy man, but didn’t make too much of it, ordering the first round of shots and beer for you and Mikasa — plus some hot wings for Sasha because you knew she would be hungry.

Hange handed you the beers and said they would get the other things ready for you at the table, so you went back to your friends.

“Hey, (y/n)” Sasha snapped her fingers in front of you and let out a small chuckle. “What’s up with you?”

“Huh?” You shook your head slightly, gripping the sleeves of your top in your palms. “Uh, nothing, just looking around.”

“More like looking for someone” Annie observed, keeping her hands in front of her mouth as she talked.

“Ohh, is it the hot bartender?” Sasha leaned on the table, watching your face closely.

“Jean or Levi?” Mikasa asked, letting out a small yawn.

Wait, what?

“How do you know Levi?” you frowned as Annie excused herself to go to the bathroom.

“You mean my cousin, Levi?” she crossed her arms over her chest and gave you a curious look. “The one who owns this place?”

Fuck, what?

Levi owns the bar?

Well, he was always the one to close the place.

Wait, fuck.

He’s Mikasa’s cousin?

That kinda made sense, at some point. He looked like Mikasa to some extent, same cheekbones and the same cold stare. God, now that you learned that new piece of information, things started to fit together more and more.

But the real question was, where is Levi?

“So it’s Levi then” Sasha pointed out, seeping on her beer while Hange came with the shots and placed them on the table with an excited screech.

“What are we celebrating?” They clapped happily, looking between you.

[…]

It started playing some Akon song when you guys downed your fifth shot for the night. Sasha was on her third plate of hot wings, stuffing her face while sauce accumulated on the sides of her mouth. Annie had that blush around her cheeks and was playing with a straw she put on her beer mug, twirling it around her fingers and humming to the rhythm of the music. Mikasa didn’t seem drunk at all to the naked eye, but the way she giggled from time to time was a signal that the alcohol was getting through.

You stopped looking a long time ago, knowing that Levi wasn’t around and wallowing in your misery wouldn’t do you any favors — you just hated that you had dressed at the thought of him being there.

The bar was already emptying, the buzz of conversations dissipating as you gulped the rest of your mug, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Ah, there is my favorite client” you heard a voice approaching, turning right away to see where it was coming from only to find Jean already folding his black apron. “Ohh, Annie, you’re also here. Haven’t seen you since… chem? Still mad I cheated from you?”

The blonde rolled her eyes and sipped on her beer. “You’re lucky I didn’t snitch.”

“Don’t be like that” he smiled as he scooped closer to you, resting an arm around your shoulders. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your other friends, (y/n)?”

“That’s Mikasa and that’s Sasha” you pointed at them and they gave small waves.

“It’s my birthday!” The ponytail girl exclaimed, giving him a small full of sauce. “Put some wings on the house!”

“That’s not how it works” Jean smiled shyly, turning his attention on you. “Unless…”

The girls did the same, all staring between you two in confusion.

“Unless what?!” You frowned, pushing the empty mug forward.

“We can put it on lover boy’s tab. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind” the ash blond man gave you a little jab with his elbow and a shake of brows.

You blushed profusely. What?

“Oh! You mean Mikasa’s cousin?” Sasha put a finger under her chin, looking as if she was thinking hard. “What’s his name again?”

“ARE WE TALKING ABOUT LEVI?” you heard a scream coming from the counters and all your heads turned at once.

Hange jumped over the wooden surface and rushed to your table, putting both their hands in front of your group.

“I heard… oof” putting a hand to their chest, they exhaled loudly, rubbing a droplet of sweat from their forehead as they scooted closer to Mikasa’s side, earning a confused look from the girl, “I heard we were talking about Levi.”

“Hey! It’s my birthday!” Sasha cleaned her hands with some napkins and pushed the small, stained bowl in front of the new bartender. “What about some wings on the house?”

Everyone gave the girl a quick glance.

“Oh, oh, oh! Jean!” Hange threw their hands in the air. “Is she the girl?”

“Huh?” You frowned, feeling blush creep onto your cheeks as small chills ran over your body.

“Shouldn’t you guys be working?” Annie asked and they shuddered their shoulders at the same moment it was almost comical. “Hm.”

“What do you mean ‘the girl’”? Mikasa played with the rim of her mug, biting her lip as she seemed to try to understand the situation.

“Jean’s been telling me things” the other bartender wiggled their brows at you teasingly.

“What’s even there to tell?” You now shifted in place, feeling annoyed. “God, he’s been a friend to me lately, what else?”

The ash blond licked his teeth and leaned over you, arm grabbing you closer to his body as he pointed at your nose.

“Makes sense, but at the same time, you’re the only girl Levi has been hanging around since he—”

With a hard slap on the mouth, Hange shut Jean before he could say anything else.

“JEAN!” they screeched, looking distressed. “Not your story to tell.”

With that, they stood from the booth and grabbed the boy by the collar of his shirt, giving you girls a big smile.

“We are closing in 20, I’ll bring another round of beer for you.”

“Wait!” Sasha stopped them and stood from the table; eyes desperate as the remaining people hanging around the bar. “What about the wings on the house?!”

Soon, you were finished celebrating, going over gossip and laughing about nostalgic moments you had spent together earlier in life, and cringing over some other memories, like when you hooked up with Reiner once, or how Mikasa used to fawn over Eren to the point she would even do his homework without asking twice.

After the last round, you split the bill and sang a short ‘happy birthday’ to the brunette that was kind of bummed because she didn’t get her so desired hot wings, and then everyone started to call their rides. Mikasa was sharing an uber with Annie since Armin must’ve been sleeping at the time and Sasha called Niccolo, since they still had to celebrate, she said — you had a feeling that he would have to cook another dish for her to compensate for the wings.

“Are you coming?” Mikasa asked you, tugging on her red scarf as she gathered her stuff from the table.

“No, I gotta go through my tab with Jean” you told them as they were standing, clearly flushed from the drinks. “You guys go, I’ll see you back on Sunday for brunch.”

Annie and Mikasa gave you another look to confirm if you were really staying behind and you just nodded with a small smile while Sasha ran to her boyfriend as he entered the bar, almost dropping him to the floor.

You were sure to stay, now feeling more sober since you didn’t drink as much as usual, still not over the hangover from last time — you became too intimate with your toilet.

“Take care” Annie pointed her chin at you, turning to leave.

Now there were only you and the last two bartenders present. Hange was cleaning some things while Jean yawned, looking half-dead as he threw some old peanuts in the trash. You walked there and sat on the small stool, giving them both a short grin.

“You’re still here? Jesus, woman, just go home” Jean snapped and Hange threw a rag at him.

“Don’t talk to her like that” they grabbed the rag from the floor and washed it on the sink before returning to their chores. “(y/n), is it?”

You nodded and they leaned back on the counter, too close to comfort.

“So, tell me. What’s your secret?” They whispered the last part, covering their mouth with the back of their hand as Jean rolled his eyes.

Leaning back from the fixated stare, you gave them an awkward smile, knowing exactly where the conversation would lead once more. The jukebox now played Bennie and The Jets as you tried to think of something to run away from the interrogatory.

“Are you being paid to work or to harass clients?” A familiar voice came from behind you, making you thank whatever god was above.

Hange and Jean rose their eyes and exchanged the same looks from the beginning of the night, making your whole body flush with the sudden heat. You tried to focus on anything else, too scared to turn away and find those grey eyes that you wanted so much to get lost inside; the same skin you once touched and felt under fingertips; the same hair that would tickle those thin eyebrows and complement the intense stare he always had stamped on his face, the—

“It’s 4AM, why are you still here?” He asked, now you felt the presence of his body behind yours and you were trapped. There was nowhere else to run.

Slowly turning on the stool, you licked your lips and rose your eyes, now gazing back at him, trying hard not to focus too much, knowing there was a possibility of a blush sneaking if you ever so slightly let your guard down.

Levi’s figure always surprised you. He had this big and strong aura going for him, even though he was about the same height as you; still, he was nothing short of muscles. The white shirt he was wearing hugged every inch of his skin so nicely it made your eyes wander around, trying to map out each of his muscles. His hair looked kind of wet, as if he had just gotten out of the shower and the slight scent of his cologne lingered around, and you took in every second of it to enjoy.

“Don’t you get tired of getting drunk?” He asked, raising a brow.

You felt a wave of heat running through your veins, but now with anger. Sure, you were buzzed, but not enough to be considered drunk anymore. You drank enough water for the past hours to be almost completely sober.

“I’m not even drunk right now” you snapped, turning back to the counter as the man scoffed behind you.

Jean threw a rag to the sink right in front of you and leaned between his arms, letting out a big yawn. “Ah! Finally done”

“Same here” Hange noted, taking off their apron and folding it, going to the backroom, Jean following right after.

It became deadly silent after the heavy door closed behind the bartenders. You could only hear yours and Levi’s breaths as he walked to the bar, crossing the counter and you did your best to avoid looking too much.

“You are dressed up” the man made a remark and you looked down at your clothes, adjusting your skirt as you sat.

“It was my friend’s birthday” you replied, tilting your head up just so you could be on eye level.

“What made you want to celebrate it in this shithole?” He furrowed his brows, leaning back onto the liquor shelves.

Levi never hid the fact that he didn’t seem to like the place. It made sense before, since you thought he was only an employee, but now that you learned that he owned the bar, things didn’t quite fit in.

“It’s a nice shithole” you said as you crossed your arms over the counter.

He kept his arms crossed for a while; eyes focused on your figure as if he were challenging you. Without any new expression, the man leaned down to the lower cabinets and grabbed an electric kettle, filling it with the sink water as you watched.

“You never told me you owned the place” you licked your lips as he started to heat the water.

Levi’s hands worked in the cabinet once more, grabbing a tea box and putting it right in front of you, and then searched for two porcelain cups that were just a little chipped around the rim, placing them next to each other and a teabag inside.

“You never asked.”

You watched as he grabbed two silver spoons and filled the cups with the now heated water.

“It’s usually something you don’t miss, you know?” Rolling your sweater sleeves up your elbows, you crossed your arms in front of your chest as the man put the small spoon inside a cup, pushing it towards you. “Normally, people would go like ‘hey, I own the place, drinks on the house.”

“You almost always drink for free” he furrowed his brows as he dabbed the teabag inside the cup a few times.

“That’s not the point.”

Hange’s face appeared from the creek of the backdoor, looking at you both who were now alarmed by the sound of the heavy metal.

“Leviiiii, just letting you know we are leaving” they said and the man just flicked his wrist as a goodbye, shooing them.

The man didn’t turn around, and you thanked profusely, because the look Hange were giving you was too creepy for him to see. They held both thumbs up and smiled before leaving.

Now that you were sure that you two were the only ones present in the whole establishment, you could feel your stomach turn inwards, anxiety taking over and nerves flowing through your bloodline. The man in front of you brought the teacup to his lips, sipping slowly and you noticed the way he held it by the rim. Funny.

“Why are we drinking tea?” You asked, looking at the clock only to see it was 4:43AM, and Levi didn’t look like he had any sleep.

He just stared at you through his hand, lowering the cup just a little for him to speak: “Because I felt like drinking tea.”

The commanding tone of his made chills run down your spine. You knew for sure you were blushing now, so you decided to grab the teacup to hide your face behind it, sipping slowly on the minty taste.

“You look nice” he said, taking you by surprise.

Your fingers suddenly felt numb. Fuck. Before you knew it, it was too late, and the cup was now a splatter of pieces on the counter. The liquid now stained your sweater in a wet spot, the hot tea burning the places where it hit your naked skin.

“Fuck” you let out a hiss. “Fuck, fuck, fuck”

Levi put down his own cup and a little panic showed on his face.

“Take the sweater off” he ordered, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and putting it under the sink, drenching it in cold water.

“W-What?” You looked up, skin still aching from the burn and now his choice of words added extra heat to your whole body.

“Jesus, you just fucking burned yourself” he said, jumping to the other side of the counter and showing you the handkerchief.

Not the time to think, you sighed as you took your sweater off, placing it on your side, leaving your dark bra exposed.

You tried covering yourself, knowing the situation was awkward enough already for you to care too much about it. You are an adult, he’s an adult, stop acting like a horny teenager, you thought to yourself as he offered you one of his hands.

Staring for a little longer, he let out a ‘tch’ and rolled his eyes. “Give me your hand.”

You followed his command and slid your fingers into his palm, feeling the warmth envelop you, even if the source was from a small part of your body. He held your hand and brought you closer, analyzing the positions before he could start working on your burns.

“Sit on the counter” he ordered again and once more, you followed.

Adjusting yourself on the cold surface, you gave your arm to him and felt his fingers slide along your skin, warm fingertips touching where the droplets of boiling water hit before, and a little flinch escaped from you whenever he found a new spot. He looked up, as if to see if everything was alright and you gave him a small smile, shaking your head.

“It’s not that bad” you affirmed and he furrowed his brows, lowering his gaze once more.

“That’s because of the alcohol” the man started dabbing the cold fabric carefully, watching every little movement of yours as he did. “Tomorrow, this thing is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

You chuckled at his remark as he held your hand closer to his chest, putting it above your knees in a position where it wouldn’t hurt to stay still. You took a moment to admire his marked features, watching every little move of his and wondering about those eyes, glad that they were focused on you.

Although Levi held this harsh front, he really seemed to care behind those big walls, and that was enough for you to fall.

“Sorry about your cup” you apologized, almost in a mutter, feeling shame crawl under your skin once more.

“It’s a stupid cup” he said, still working on your skin. “I can just get another one.”

“Still, let me pay for it” pursing your lips, you felt his grip on your wrist tighten just a little.

“That’s dumb.”

You sighed, “I keep giving you trouble, I want to make it up for you.”

He stopped the dabbing, looking up to find your piercing gaze already on his. Eyes shining under the dim lighting and silent surrounding you two.

“You’re not paying for the fucking cup” he rose his brow, staring deep into your soul, and now you were scared that he would learn all your secrets.

“I’m serious, Levi” you persisted. “I didn’t even thank you for taking me home the other day.”

“It’s fine” he stuck to his argument, but you also did the same to yours.

“No, it’s not. Must’ve been really annoying.”

“You were annoying, indeed” he let out and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Sure… but thank you, for… you know—taking me back to my apartment.”

You remember waking up the next morning to a box of Advil sitting on your bedside table, next to a big bottle of water and how warm your chest felt to feel like someone was caringly enough to do that for you. Even for someone who you’d recently just met.

“Stop with this sappy shit and let me work” he rolled his eyes and went back to dabbing the wet cloth on your skin, “you’re gonna get nasty scars if I don’t take care of them.”

Smiling to yourself, you straightened your arm again allowing him the full access to your skin and the man went back to his previous actions. The dawn was beginning to clear and sneak between the blinds, filling the whole place with clarity, and none of you felt tired, engulfing in each other’s company.

TAGLIST 

@zeickv @thirstyforsometea​

[wornoutmouse]

Bakugou does your hair

In this I'll be using my hair products cause i don't know any other. Blue magic, cantu, and Shea Moisture don't work for me. My hair hates it and breaks off🤷🏿‍♀️

I used to use Grandma's Recipe but its not moisturizing my hair anymore since i moved to Vegas so i have been using ™WonderGro (Jamaican Black Castro Oil) for grease and ™Elite (total body care) for both shampoo, conditioner, and face oil. I gots me some vitamin c serum for dark spots cause i don't use make-up.

I have super sensitive skin that switches 25/40 (i cant use suave anymore cause now im alergic to it.) And i break out easy so trust me if i recommend any products in regards to skin care😂

Sorry this is getting long, enjoy the fluff

The day was here. The day you’ve dreaded since you and Katsuki started living together. Wash day.

Up until now, all Katsuki had seen you wearing were different variations of braids. He had a vague idea that not all your hair was real but he has never seen your hair free and in the wild.

“Hey Bakugou, do you have anything to do today?” you ask nonchalantly as your boyfriend walks through the door. “No.” was his only response as he sat next to you. You cringe as he buries his face into your braids and you  imagine the dust and dirt falling on his eyelashes. 

(I’ve only let it get that bad twice in my life)

“Well, could you please find something to do?” That got his attention as he sits up and glares at you. “Why are you trying to get rid of me all of a sudden?” You close your eyes regretting even starting the conversation. “Look today I need to wash my hair so I really need to focus, Baku.” 

Bakugou is, of course, confused as he looks at your hair to see if something was wrong with it. “So why don’t you wash it, I won’t bother you?” You scream inside your head at his persistence but press on. “Because Bakugou, you’ve never seen my natural hair and I’m not sure if I want you to yet.”

You peek your eyes open to see Bakugou’s reaction and to your horror, absolute boredom was present on his face. “That sounds like a personal problem because now I’m not leaving, in fact, let's go do it now.” 

“Bakugou! Please!” you wail as he drags you to your shared bathroom. You try to dodge and weave but consequently get your hair caught in his steel grip as he held onto a group of your braids. “Stop struggling and sit your pretty ass down.”

You pout as you plop down on the toilet seat but watch with curious eyes as Bakugou grabs your rat tail comb and stabs a spot in-between your braids. “What are you doing?’ He scoffs as he elegantly unbraids your hair. “I doubt you wash your hair while it’s still braided idiot.”

With calm accuracy, Bakugou takes down your hair from left to right, smacking your hands when you try to help. "You didn't want to do your hair with me around so I don't want you raising a hand to help!"

When Bakugou finishes, he grabs the mountain of hair and looks at you with wide eyes as he takes in your real hair. "Why are you looking at me like that?" You groan hiding your face in embarrassment. Bakugou shrugs, "I didn't expect it to be that short." He bags the rest of your hair and leaves to throw it out as you wallow in self pity.

With frustrated tears you turn away from him with your arms crossed. A hand hits you on the back of your head, "What's that face for!?" You turn towards him with your lip jutted out, "You said my hair is short!"

Bakugou looked at you dumbly as he watched you glare at your toes. With a sigh Bakgou turns on the shower as he speaks, "I never said it was a bad thing. Hell, i wouldn't care if you were bald." You study his face and feel your heart flutter. It wasn't often you got to see the side of him.

Your suddenly hit with a face full of pressurized water as Bakugou points the shower head at you, "Get that dumb look off your face and get in the shower!"

After you recover from your drowning, you get into the shower and put shampoo on your hair. Humming your favorite song, you massage the liquid into your scalp, completely missing the sound of the curtain opening.

It wasn't until you felt a warm presence behind you and breath tickling your ear. "Why do you have the water at 100 gotdamn degrees in here!?" In your haste, you nearly slip and bang your face against the shower wall. "I'm not even gonna ask." Katsuki muttered as he adjusted the knob.

"Why are you in the shower with me?" Bakugou rolls his eyes and turns you back around, and for a moment you thought he wanted to get ✨freaky deaky✨ in the shower. That of course was until you felt fingers rub your scalp in soothing circles.

"Ah~" Bakugou smirked as he heard your sound of pleasure. In reality, he was taking the time to get used to touching your hair. Because it was in braids, he never got to fully feel your hair texture. But now he could not only feel it dry but wet and he must say it's a strange feeling.

Side note: am i the only one that thinks straight hair feels slimy when wet? Like i can't stand touching non black hair when it's wet it feels so icky.🤢

When washing is said and done (of course with a loving make out session: details not included) You somehow find yourself in between Bakugou's legs as he parts your hair. "Wait a damn minute, you don't know how to do my hair!?" You say reaching back to grab the comb only to get your hands popped. 

"Your mom taught me that trap card." Bakugou smirked as you rub your battle wound. "That's it, I ain't letting you hang with my momma no moe." Bakugou applies your repair oil in the parts, and massages it into your scalp once again, soon making your eyes roll back from the feeling.

"Do you want to use Grandma's Recipe' or "WonderGro Jamaican Black Castro oil"?" Bakugou asks, reading your grease labels. You sit there and shrug, "Jamaican." Bakugou nods and opens it gasping when he smells it. 

(It smells like blue slurpee on gawd)

"Can I eat it?" He asked scooping some of the dark purple solid onto his finger. "You can, but I can't guarantee you'll live afterwards though." You joke earning yourself another pop.

In the end Bakugou puts your hair in twisties for you to blow dry tomorrow. It looked better than you expected and you thanked him for it.

Anyone notice that when you look up short hairstyles it be shoulder length like, "sorry but im bald ma'am😃"

[midasinc]

do you by chance have any canon era courfius hcs

i do but i might bum you out in the process (this is also more of a timeline than hcs, sort of like with montparnasse/courfeyrac)

canon era courfius:

-i think in canon era courfeyrac is a closeted bisexual and he dabbles with men on the side, but he really overcompensates in public with women so people don't think he's of a certain persuasion. he's incredibly paranoid about it and he has reason to be

-marius pops into his life and it really fucks with him because this dude migrates into his own lodgings and confides in him and courfeyrac thinks he's incredibly handsome and yes he dresses oddly and is easy to tease and all of his friends despise him, but there's something earnestly endearing about marius

-when marius comes round saying this and that about an "ursula" that he's in love with, courfeyrac is admittedly distraught that somebody else has caught marius's attention and that it wasn't him. it was something that he often dreamt about in classes and even at night, but now this dream was being shattered right in front of him

-still, courfeyrac has appearances to keep up so he helps his friend. he instills hope in marius as much as he teases and he takes him out and about paris to find other things to do than mope around because he can't find this woman of his dreams and it hurts.

-they do share the same bed. it makes things difficult sometimes. courfeyrac won't be able to sleep and he turns and sees marius's cheek squished against the pillow and it makes his heart ache

-sometimes marius borrows his hats or cravats or even a blouse and courfeyrac is just vibrating at this point. it's a miracle that he hasn't punched a wall. he has it so bad and it's killing him

-the increasingly close revolution enjolras is determined to have keeps him busy, at least. he does his tasks and helps enj and combeferre and it keeps him from wallowing. wallowing is his last resort because courfeyrac is not a wallower

-if we're going by brick timeline im just gonna switch some stuff up because after marius's grandfather says absolutely not to his possible marriage with cosette, he goes to courfeyrac's apartment and wallows (lol) on the bed and when he wakes up courfeyrac is there with the others about to leave and asking if he's going to the funeral. we can edit this a little and have the funeral at a somewhat later date and courfeyrac is there to try and mend marius's broken heart

-"she's going to be gone forever" / "maybe it wasn't meant to be" / "it was"

-marius is just very huffy and upset and his head lays against courfeyrac's shoulder. courfeyrac just plays with his hair and lets things be quiet for a moment. marius doesn't pomade his hair the way courfeyrac does- it's soft and dark and unstyled. he threads his fingers through the front of his hair to reveal marius's face. the pad of his thumb brushes against his cheek, just gently tracing the line of marius's face

-marius glances over at him with his big ol dark eyes and lashes and courfeyrac has never been good at hiding secrets anyway. his head softly bumps against marius and he tilts his forehead to see him better

-"you still have me, you know"

-marius is frozen when courfeyrac first kisses him, mostly in shock, but after a moment he relaxes into the touch. they kiss and it's good and it gains momentum and marius is the one to push open courfeyrac's lips and courfeyrac brings a hand to marius's waist and hoists himself onto marius's lap and there are hands on his waist now and courfeyrac breaks their kiss so he can move onto the side of marius's mouth, then his jaw, and then trail down his neck but-

-courfeyrac gets pushed off as marius scrambles to get off the bed

-"i don't- you're-" marius isn't sure what else he can stammer out, but he's beet red and instead just takes his hat and leaves the apartment

-courfeyrac wallows.

-courfeyrac goes to the barricades with the rest of his compatriots.

-he's disappointed in himself most of all, truly. he shouldn't have done it, he shouldn't have been so forward. marius might be here if he hadn't. marius was in love with a woman and not courfeyrac and he might as well accept that

-marius is confused. he loves cosette, he knows that much, but he had never thought courfeyrac was... it didn't make sense to him. i also think he's a closet bisexual but perhaps a bit too closeted in canon. it happens to the best of us. he's chosen cosette this time but when she's gone he sees no reason to live. when he goes to the barricades, it's because of that. he doesn't expect himself to threaten to blow them all to hell, but it happens. he's confused, he's angry, and he's willing to make a stand after all

-courfeyrac sort of gets the wrong idea and thinks that maybe marius is back for him. marius saved his life, marius is here to save his life and be here with him. that's why he greets him so enthusiastically. marius is rigid, though, and courfeyrac begins to get the hint

-it's in the night when he sits alone on what used to be a rather nice table. the sky is turning an inky black and feuilly is humming and prouvaire is reciting poetry and courfeyrac feels irrevocably empty

-marius comes and sits with him, and things are quiet for a moment. courfeyrac doesn't want him to speak, but marius had never been able to pick up on others' desires

-"i'm sorry" / "you have nothing to be sorry for" / "i cannot betray cosette" / "i figured as much"

-marius is unsure of how to make courfeyrac feel better

-"in another lifetime," courfeyrac says with his chin rested on his palm, "do you believe that you might love me in return?"

-perhaps. courfeyrac is kind and amusing and generous. marius had saved his life because he cares for courfeyrac and wouldn't want to be in a world where he'd have to see him die. courfeyrac has been his kindest and most loyal and, truly, his only friend. perhaps in another lifetime, things would be different. perhaps in another lifetime, marius wouldn't be spoken for

-he leans over and kisses courfeyrac's cheek before leaving and finding eponine in the alley

-at the final battle, marius is hit and comes to terms with the fact that he is dying. he is frightened, he is terrified, but he can see courfeyrac fighting on. he hasn't noticed yet that marius has fallen. he thinks that it might be okay. he's sorry that cosette will never have gotten to be with him in this lifetime, but perhaps in the next, he will see courfeyrac again

-marius wakes up in the real world, however, and courfeyrac does not

[lassieposting]

Hi i havent read the books post-resurrection so im kinda lost on why you dont like phase 2 val? She was easily one of my favourite characters ever, she was flawed (and the books took time to acknowledge them) and relatable and still really admirable (intelligent, brave, loyal) and i really liked her and really appreciated that she wasn’t perfect unlike every other young adult heroines. What went wrong😢😢😢😢

Okay I'm gonna put this under a cut because I very strongly dislike phase 2 val and I know it bugs people who don't feel the same, so. Dead dove dont eat

Okay so first off, phase 1 val and phase 2 val are completely different people. literally. phase 1 val was based on an ex-friend of lardo's who used to apparently be involved pretty heavily in like, editing the books and "she'd react like this" or "val wouldn't say that", and that val she was one of my favourite fictional characters from when book one came out to the release of resurrection. phase 2 val is based on his whiny little girlfriend who likes to start shit with 14yos on twitter, and you can absolutely tell she is no longer the same person. so the long story short of "what went wrong" is "the original irl val's friendship with dirty laundry ended for whatever reason and he decided to retcon her entire personality to suit his gf"

Phase 2 Val, in my opinion:

Weak, like won't even fight back when she gets jumped bc boo fucking hoo she's so awful, bitch get up already, nobody signed up for ur pity party

Whiny. So fucking whiny. All the time. And she's the POV character so it's inescapable.

"Pacifist" but in a really pathetic virtue-signalling kind of way like "Oh, I've done such terrible thiiiiiiiiiiings I'm so awfulllllllllllll look how good I'm trying to be nowwwwwwww pay attention to meeeeeeee" kind of way, it was both boring and a massive eye roll. It's a book about magic and asskicking. Kick some ass. We're here for escapism not "realistic" whining. Yes, irl she'd be a mess. As an author it's his job to strike a balance between the "realism" he wants to portray and making his readers so depressed and done with his heroine that they quit reading, and in my case, he absolutely failed.

Everything must be about her at all times. Skug is having personal problems? Fuck him, they're about her now. Everything is about how it affects her, and her feelings, and be damned to the person actually having the problem. Fucks phase 2 val cain gives about anyone except herself: 0

Bitter and jaded. Which yeah I get why but it's like jesus christ what do we get out of reading about this? It's not even good bitter and jaded where it makes you empathise or admire her strength in adversity or whatever, she's just become a really nasty person with no redeeming features that I could see. Which? Landy outright said she's based on his gf? If your boyfriend is gonna drag ur entire personality through the dirt like that and write "you" as just a collection of incredibly negative traits...yikes.

Really ungrateful about the awesome life she leads? Which bugs me bc I fucking hate mundanity and knowing that all there is to life is fucking working and bad mental health. I would kill to live her life. All she does is moan about it. Like? Quit then. Fuck off back to being a mortal if it's that bad and live the shitty life you wanted to get away from in the first place. That way we'd get no more books, and quite honestly, thank fuck for that. But anyway, she needs to pick one, stick with it, and stop complaining about whatever she chose.

The girl wallows in self pity. And if someone else isn't indulging her enough, she'll wallow harder and louder and more obviously. Yawn.

Her POV is now so depressing to read that Resurrection literally tanked my mental health. I'm not kidding. I fell off the self-harm wagon, the suicidal thoughts came back, reading her dissociating would make me dissociate, I just did not cope whatsoever. Being in her head was just like being in my head during my worst points, and I hate myself, so naturally, I hate her too. Like I get why some people like phase two val. I get that her depression is "realistic" and that trauma does just make some people completely dislikeable and self-pitying, and if people want to read about that, then...sure. you do you, my dudes. But I live that reality, I am that person whose trauma made her a dysfunctional, isolated bitch, and I hate, passionately, having it infest the media I consume to escape.

Essentially if I wanted to engage with a bitter, spiteful, depressed piece of shit in her 20s who pushes everyone away and sucks at everything, I'd live my gd life. Yall see me tryna engage with my real life? Hell nah I'm on tumblr dot com burying my head up the ass of whatever fandom will force my brain to produce some s e r o t o n i n and that is what I need this series for

Also? The dynamic she had with skug in phase one? "Until the end"? "You save me, I save you, that's how we work"? Forget that, it doesn't exist anymore. I stopped reading after Midnight, because she was written like he was a coworker she could barely tolerate. They went from "Lardo confirms on twitter that they talked on the phone a bunch while she was in america and he'd always ask her to come home" to "she comes home and proceeds to blank him for five months while she sits in her fuckin multimillionaire's mansion feeling sorry for herself". Their friendship completely disintegrated, they were totally separated for most of the book, she's written as not giving a single shit about him. She treated him like dirt, and their dynamic basically felt like it was becoming "Local Man With History Of Gravitating Towards Abusive Women Makes Same Terrible Choices For Fifth Time" and? that was the point of no return to me. he supports her unconditionally, no matter what he's going through at the time, he's walked on broken bones to try and get to her when she was in danger, she can tell him anything and he'd never use it against her. I did not, for one second in phase two, believe she felt the same about him. tbh it felt like she could - and wanted to - drop him at the first opportunity and not even feel bad about it, and that's not the dynamic that made me so emotionally attached to phase one. i signed up for "until the end", not whatever bullshit phase two has going on.

Apparently she's "less depressed" now and their relationship is "better" in the books published since midnight, which! might well be true. but I haven't read them and don't intend to, and she's gone from one of my favourite fictional characters ever (which! was impressive! because i almost never bond with the female lead - i normally get attached exclusively to the character i crush on, which would be skug here. val was the first female lead i actually cared about since xena! so im deeply salty about losing her!) to a character i? honestly prefer to pretend doesn't exist. i live in war era dead men/generals crackship land because that way, i don't have to acknowledge her or the fuckin character assassination phase 2 pulled on her.

so yeah, no hate towards phase one val at all. phase one val was awesome and flawed and gave me something to aspire to despite my shitty mental health and trauma, and if she'd kept her original personality she might still have been those things. but the original "real life" val is no longer involved (and doesn't talk to landy at all anymore, apparently), and the val based on landy's insufferable gf? i cannot get behind her at all ever, four for skug and none for phase two val cain bye

(tldr; you're not missing anything by quitting after spx)

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [08]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–mentions of sex, a panic attack w.c; 4.5k a/n; can’t believe there’s one more chapter after this! (+the bonus chapter!) its such a bittersweet feeling to close this all up so i hope u all join me in my w2!jk sobbing party im making matcha cookies rn so i can wallow

[07] [08] [final] -> masterpost

Jungkook’s worried. 

After he left your apartment, he dove himself into his work and tried to get you out of his head. Somehow he ended up from his living room table to his bed, bleary and with a pen jabbing him in the cheek. He doesn’t know how he feels right now, and has micro analyzed every bit of your relationship in between breaks.

He fell fast, and loving you (as much as it scares himself to admit) was so easy it hurt. It’s why it’s so hard for him to accept that you would betray him like that. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? If you had just admitted your issues from day one, this crisis could have easily been averted and you would be with him right now. 

But that’s not why he’s worried. Jungkook wakes up the following day around 10AM, noting the dozens of messages and unanswered phone calls from Jimin and Taehyung. 

According to Taehyung, you’ve been missing for three days. Off-the-grid type of missing, to the point that Taehyung is debating on whether or not he should call the police. 

The first day you didn’t come home, Taehyung chalked it up as you spending the night at Jungkook’s. The second day however, he visits the library where your office hours are held only to find your usual table empty and your students upset over your lack of contact. 

“Here,” Doyeon had said, pointing to the vague email you sent. Taehyung skimmed through the barebones message, mentioning that you had to take an indefinite leave and that the students can email Professor Kim Namjoon if they still had lingering questions. 

Taehyung notes the sincere apology at the bottom, and how you tack on that “you are a wonderful group of students and I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.” 

Almost as if you aren’t planning to come back. 

He could hear Taehyung deflate on the line, knowing that Jungkook has no idea where you are either. 

“Did you…” Jungkook scratches his head, sitting at his kitchen table, “did you check her room for a yellow notebook?” 

“What?” Taehyung asks, “I checked her room yesterday. Y’know the weird thing is? Her room is clean, like clinically clean. There’s nothing on her desk, the sheets are washed, and her clothes are all folded and put away. Usually it’s like a whirlwind in here.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, remembering how your room is usually quite lived in, with warm sheets and a candle glowing. 

“Why aren’t you more stressed out, dude?” Taehyung says, and Jungkook instantly feels guilty. “Your girlfriend’s fucking missing, are you gonna get up and help or not?” 

“Y-yeah, I’m just a little shaken,” he manages to reply, thinking about how you tried to explain to him the other night. He pinches the bridge between his brows, regretting not letting you have your word when refusing to listen to you. Maybe if he heard it, things would have turned out differently.

Taehyung sighs, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shock. She really isn’t like this normally, but I trust her. If you can, maybe contact Jung Hoseok? I already visited Kim Namjoon and he doesn’t know anything, but he’s the only friend I know that could have any idea.” 

Jung Hoseok. He remembers that name frequently in your notebook. Not as frequently as his, but enough to have a good idea he could be involved in your sudden departure. 

“Okay, I’ll visit him today.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The tables that you usually occupy for study groups are painfully absent of your presence, noted by your stressed out students that are hoping you’ll show up unexpectedly. 

Thankfully, Hoseok is working today. Jungkook eyes him from the doorway of the playroom, seeing Hoseok carefully distribute plates of snacks as a movie plays on the flatscreen. He looks like a preschooler himself, decked out in a sunflower yellow bucket hat and denim suspenders. Jungkook tries to see if there’s anything strange emanating from Hoseok, like if he also has secrets to hide, but feels nothing of the sort.  

“You’re really creepy, Mister,” the door swings open to reveal a little girl, tugging impatiently at his cargos. 

Hoseok makes a face at Jungkook, rolling his eyes. “God, just come in. You’re scaring my children.” 

The little girl practically shoves him inside, forcing him to sit at the playtable on the very end. She then hands him a plate of cheddar Goldfish and strawberry fruit snacks, a toddler’s delicacy. Hoseok makes a show of telling the children to be quiet, focusing on the movie’s “historical elements” and “symbolic imagery” but they don’t understand any of that and just want Hoseok to move so they can watch Mulan. 

Jungkook feels like he’s being crushed in the too-small chair and Fisher-Price table, munching absentmindedly on his Goldfish. Hoseok is playing on his phone, not sparing him a glance as he texts someone. 

Jungkook swallows, wishing he had some milk to down the snack. “Uh, are you texting y/n?” 

“No,” Hoseok replies coolly. 

“Well, do you know where she is?” 

“I can tell you where she went,” Hoseok replies eerily, plucking a fruit snack from Jungkook’s place, “as to whether she’s still there or not, I’m not sure.” 

“I’m sorry, but are you mad at me?” he whisper-hisses, not wanting to disturb the children enamoured at the front of the room. He’s tired of the secrecy and blurry answers. 

“Yes, I am,” Hoseok snaps just as quietly, leaning in to get into his face, “I’m mad because I believed in you.” 

“Believed in me?” he gapes, “you don’t even know me!” 

“I may not, but I believed you’d trust y/n at least. She’s a victim too, y’know.” 

A victim? 

“Look,” Jungkook puts some space between them, afraid he would get too heated, “just tell me what’s going on so I can understand. I know I messed up, but I feel like I’ve been in the dark for God knows how long.”

Hoseok bites his lip, “It’s really not my story to tell. Y/n didn’t want to tell you right away because she wasn’t sure of the circumstances. She wasn’t sure even if she was supposed to tell you.” 

Jungkook watches the expressions morph on Hoseok’s face. He sees the faith in his gaze, as he holds his phone expectantly, as if he’s also waiting for a sign that you’re okay. Jungkook suppresses a sigh, looking at his own blank screen. Shaking his head, he manages to smile knowing that so many people believe in you.

So why can’t he? 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You hate this. Three days ago you felt peachy keen, ready to transcend into your own universe and live your life to the fullest. 

Now three days later you’re sitting at the wine lady’s cottage, waiting for the past two days for her to show up. 

“How long does she need to go on this ‘spiritual retreat’?” you admonish, looking on angrily at the same waitress that has served you for the past two days. 

“I don’t know,” the waitress has grown tired of your presence, waiting all day in the little restaurant for the owner’s presence, “until she feels more spiritual, I guess?” 

It annoys you further that this waitress has the spitting image of Sehlyung. It’s weird to see her with natural pin straight black hair, always loving the pretty blond-white color and sacrificing her hair health for the bright hue. Every time she sees you still in the same spot, she makes it a point to roll her eyes and walk a little louder. This version of her is just as temperamental, unwilling to budge. 

You groan, shamelessly annoyed as you drop your head on your arm. “And are you sure there’s no angel’s wine in the bar? I’m willing to take the risk of switching lives with my third dimension-self at this rate.” 

The waitress eyes the one empty bottle of soju that decorate your side of the bar, chalking it up as a drunk episode. “No,” she says flatly, jerking her hand out. “Now, please pay and leave. We’re closing up, but I’ll give you a call if she decides to show up late. Since y’know, you’ve left your number here despite our protests.” 

“Can I stay until you’re at least done cleaning—” 

“No.” 

You narrow your eyes, snatching up your half-finished bottle of soju before tucking it in your purse and offering up your credit card in exchange. You know you’re not in the right mind, but you’re pulling at strings at this point and you don’t know what to do. 

After a couple paces of shaky walking and trying very hard not to appear tipsy in public, you plop yourself onto the beach, overlooking the shore. You place your backpack next to you, taking off your shoes and dipping your toes in the sand. 

You glare hard at the moon, despite the distance the big ball of extraterrestrial rock is bright and full. It reflects in the ocean and bathes you in it’s grace. 

Sighing at its beauty, you take a swig of your soju as your feet wade in the water. The touch of the ocean is glaringly cold, but your body feels warm and the contrast is appropriately jarring. You feel stuck between two worlds, your body in one while your heart is in the other, desperate to find the bridge to bring you home. 

What exactly was the goal in bringing you here? Did you need a break from your real life? Did fate want you to remedy your relationship with Jungkook? Were you supposed to rewrite the wrongs you committed in your other life? 

You snort, taking a long swig. It's easy to see how well that went. 

You miss your life back home. As much as you love the one your alternate self has made here, nothing compares to Sehlyung’s humor and dirty jokes. Nothing compares to the look on Beomgyu’s face after getting a sentence translation correct. Nothing compares to the way Jungkook looks for only you after a concert, desperate to give you a hug and an affirmation that he did well. 

Just as you are about to sing to the moon and beg for a reprieve, a body plops themselves next to you, snatching the bottle from your hands. 

“Y’know, normally when people run away, they leave a mysterious note.” 

You frown at Jungkook, who looks absolutely ethereal as he stares at the moon. He’s glittering in his denim jacket and black jeans, as if he’s part of an intimate moment in a slice-of-life film. You have half a mind to grab your phone and yell at Hoseok, but it’s far too late since your location has already been revealed. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying not to snap when Jungkook pours the contents of your drink into the ocean. “Hey, I paid for that.” 

Ignoring you he says, “I’m here to take you home.” 

“I don’t have a home here,” you snap, and you mean it. 

Jungkook digs a hole for your bottle, letting the sea green grass sit in the sandhole. He turns to you, looking weary and worried. You try not to feel worried over the slump in his chest, or the way he looks like he ran a marathon to find you. 

“Then where is your home?” he asks gently, resting an arm over his knee and turning to face you. 

You curl up further into your body, hoping you’ll shrink if you press your legs close enough to your chest. “It’s not here,” you mumble into your knees. 

“Tell me where,” and you don’t shove him away when he puts his palm on your thigh, coaxing you out of your shell. “I’ll listen this time.” Deathly slow, you lift your head up, letting him catch your stray tears and spread your body with warmth. He scoots over to you, the rough sand making it difficult as he tries to wrap his arm around you. The both of you let out a breath, missing each other’s touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, the apologies melting into your temple, “I should’ve listened from the beginning, and been more patient. It’s my fault you’re all the way out here.” 

The oceans crash against both of your feet, the water eager to swallow you whole. 

“Two months ago I got into a fight with you, the other you,” you start, and Jungkook doesn’t budge, and you’re thankful he doesn’t attempt to bombard you with questions, “it wasn’t a stupid fight. It was something building for a long, long time. And I came home drunk. One second, I was two seconds away from being sideswept by an incoming truck, and the next second it’s daytime and it’s you that nearly runs me over.” 

He rubs small circles into your shoulder, and you almost hum at his touch. You miss Jungkook so much. 

“The Jungkook I’ve told you about isn’t dead,” you explain, “he’s—and I’m, we’re from another universe.” 

And between you, Jungkook, and the moon you profess your journey. Starting from the anxiety you felt from the first week, how you holed yourself in your apartment until Namjoon had to whisk you out, to your relief when Hoseok believed your crazy ideas. Halfway through you decide to piece your theories within the story, your last conversation with Jungkook, coupled with the angel’s wine and explaining how scary it was to see your matching tattoos and the meaning behind them. 

“But, I wasn’t trying to fall in love with you so I could go home,” you admit tearfully, feeling the weight of the night on your shoulders, “it, it just happened naturally. It made me believe that in another world, we would’ve worked out. Just like he said.”  

“I believe you,” he says firmly, exhaling. The whole explanation, understatedly, is a lot to take in. But he isn’t going to reject it, in fact as absurd as it is it makes far more sense than you planning out a Jungkook-inspired sci-fi novel or questioning your sanity. “I—I didn’t want to at first. It was easier to say you were crazy but, it doesn’t seem like the case. The way you saw me that morning we met, I could see how much you cared for me—him—us?” he scratches his head, unsure of how he should refer to himself in the situation.  

“I don’t blame you,” you shake your head, “Namjoon wanted me to see a doctor.” 

“It must’ve been hard,” he states, “seeing so much of him in me.” 

“You are him,” you retort, looking up so that your noses are touching. There’s pain in both your gazes, equally upset at the circumstances. “I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick. I wish you could’ve met me, the other me, under normal circumstances.” 

“Remember what I said before?” he asks, lifting a hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I said that our meeting was fate. And now I believe it more than ever.” 

You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Y’know, Jungkook believes in fate too. He used to joke about hearing the bell when he found ‘the one’ like in Kimi No Na Wa.” 

Jungkook grins, “That guy of yours seems pretty cool,” he jokes, “let him know that in our case, the bell was my horn because I didn’t wanna run you over.” 

The whole situation is confusing, but you’re thankful that Jungkook seems to be at ease now that all your cards are laid out. 

“So does your Jungkook do film too?” 

“Uh,” you choke out a cough, “he’s actually a singer, dancer, producer, and films when he has the time. Mostly singer, the main one in a K-pop group. With Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin.” 

He gapes, “Kim Seokjin? The actor Seokjin? Damn he’s like, super fine—” 

“God this is so weird.” 

“So how many figures are they making a year? In the hundred-thousands, like six-figures?” 

“Er, more like eight,” you squeak, “and then some. But you put a lot of your money into donations.” 

“Damn babe, you downgraded,” Jungkook jokes, and you smack him playfully on the arm. “So that’s how you got the song, huh?” 

“Still With You? Yeah,” you say, running your hands through the soft sand, “it’s weird to live in a world without your music, byproduct of my job. It happens to be a big part of my life,” your eyes glaze over the ocean, “I missed hearing your voice.” 

“Y/n,” Jungkook threads his fingers through the sand to find your hands, “I’m really, really sorry I doubted you.” 

You disagree, “It’s a crazy situation. I don’t even know if I’m really sane at this moment,” you chuckle, “I mean, the time went by so fast. I would be paranoid because for you, it’s like being in a new relationship. I didn’t think it would be so easy to love you all over again like that.” 

“Neither did I.” Jungkook replies warmly, and he smiles when he sees you gaping. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, a feeling long-missed. “And a little part of me knows he feels the same way, too.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s almost 12AM before you return to your apartment, dripping wet because neither of you anticipated the sudden spring shower. You tumble in like wet noodles, giggling like children in hushed whispers as you struggle to find the lightswitch. 

The lights blare on for you, Taehyung’s fingers hanging by the toggle. His hair is wet from the shower, and he looks like he sees a Christmas miracle when he wraps you up in his arms, despite the protest of you being dirty with sand and salt. 

“You dummy, don’t ever scare me like that ever again!” he sobs into your shoulder, and you return the embrace as you pat his head comfortingly. 

“Sorry Tae,” you say, “had to do a little soul-searching.” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, more like world-searching if anyone were to ask his honest opinion. But Taehyung is looking past your body to mumble a teary ‘thank you’ to Jungkook, and he nods his head politely. 

“Well next time you soul search, you better call.” 

“Done and done.” 

Satisfied that you are going to stay the night and not budge, Taehyung returns to his room. He gives you a good scolding however, and he makes you promise that you’ll give him the full story over breakfast. 

After that bump, Jungkook and you can’t keep your hands off each other. You two shower the grime off your bodies, taking turns shampooing and scrubbing. Even after you’re clean and towel-dried, Jungkook’s fingers fail to untack from your skin, pushing you eagerly to your mattress as he presses kisses along your clothed body. He’s singing against your skin, waxing poetics about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. 

“Jung—koo, Jungkook,” you say breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp locks, “Taehyung’s in the other room, we can’t be loud.” 

“Don’t,” kiss, “give,” kiss, “a fuck,” Jungkook pants, large hands trailing over your soft skin, memorizing every inch of you, He presses his length against your thigh, insistent, “if this is the last time, we’re going off with fireworks, baby.” 

And with that, you relent. It’s nothing short of electric, the way he takes great care but great power into your pleasure. He takes his time, as if it isn’t the first and last night, tracing every inch of your body because he doesn’t know what the future entails for the both of you. 

You’re equally stung like live-wire, wracking with pleasure as he seals his affirmation to you with sweet nothings, bodies pressed against each other feverently like they’ve always meant to be. Every bit of contact is purposeful, unbridled and overflowing with affection. 

When you’re done you’re both sweaty and almost painfully content, acceptant of the ambiguity of your futures. 

“Jungkook?” you ask, holding his hand tightly.

“Yes, pretty girl?” 

“Will you… fall in love with me again?” 

“Is that even a question?” he balks, leaning forward to peck your nose. He smiles at the way you scrunch your face. “Your office hours are 1-3PM, Mondays and Thursdays in the general library. If you’re not there, you’re teaching the History of Neuroscience in the ARC building on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:20 to 12:10. I also know where you live, so.”  

You don’t care how sweaty you are, and tuck your head underneath his chin, needing to be closer. 

“I will find you,” he promises, “hopefully not under my bike the second time around, but I’ll take what I can get.” 

“You’ll have a lot of explaining to do, y’know,” you sigh into his chest, feeling it rumble as your hair dampens. Your hair has dried long ago from the shower, but you know Jungkook’s trying hard to be strong as he cries into your crown, “you should leave before I wake up, just in case.” 

“Hoseok and I will handle it,” Jungkook assures you, “we’re like the Power Rangers, defenders of space and time.” 

“Alright Red Ranger, make sure you’re at least clothed before I wake up, then.” 

He pulls away lightly, seeing your equally red-rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. Both of you bump arms as you try to wipe away each other’s tears. The moon continues its power over your bodies, the only source of light in the room. Despite its movement since your time at the beach, it continues to illuminate the room and make the moment glisten with the rhythm of time. 

“You really think this is the end for us, huh?” his voice cracks, his hands cradling your face. 

Stretching to reach him, you press a kiss on every available centimeter of skin on his face. His forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. You take care to kiss the tears away, silently wishing nothing but the best for him. He immediately melts into your touch, and he gives you a teary smile. 

“It’s not the end,” you assure, “it’s our beginning. Thank you, for loving me.” 

Jungkook nods, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you again.” 

The two of you sleep like that, not with a goodbye, but with a promise. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1. 

When you wake up, it’s loud. 

The transition is jarring, painfully so. Gone are your soft flannel comforter, replaced with dry, scratchy sheets that are a poor excuse for bedwear. Your hands are heavy, bounded by the fluids snaking into your bloodstream. Your eyes are crusty and bleary, taking in the plain white and wood room. The sharp sound of the monitor reverberates in your ears, a high-pitched reminder of your slow vitals. 

Everything is painful, confirming that in fact you did get hit by that truck. You give props to your alternate self for dealing with this for the past two months. 

Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the night sky and the full moon looming above you. The only other person in the room is your baby niece, who is just short of five years old. She has since ceased coloring at her little table, her little mouth gaping open like a pufferfish. You make eye contact with her, and she nearly spills over her 64-count Crayola pack as she throws herself off the chair, running over to reach for your hand. 

“Auntie!” she cheers, the biggest smile on her face, “you’re awake! Mama said you were hibernating like bears do, and that you would probably wake up by spring time. She was right!” 

Although it pains you to smile, you manage to squeeze her hand in return. You open your mouth, the inside feeling tacky and gross. “Ah-ah,” you grimace when no sound comes out, just rasps and ghosts of what once was your voice. 

Your niece’s face crumples, and she lets go of you. “Imma go get mama, she’ll bring help!” 

She leaves you alone to succumb to the beeps of your monitors and the pain in your bones. Your fingers grapple the paper-thin sheets, and your gaze drifts to the moon. You think of Jungkook, sleeping blissfully in bed, holding you with so much tenderness and care. In a matter of what felt like minutes since you fell asleep in his arms, disappears just like that. 

The doctors and your family find you hysterically crying, the monitors going crazy as you hyperventilate yourself into a stupor. You feel like you’re choking on air, whatever little tubes in your body restricting access to fully express how torn and conflicted you’re feeling all over again. The medical expertise does work to evacuate your family, chalking your reactions up as your trauma catching up to you and the shock of the past two months hitting you full force. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s nearly 3AM when the music cuts out with no explanation, and Jungkook is annoyed. He just got that set down and he finally felt confident in adding facial expressions, but the manager killed the music and now his head is spinning. 

He’s heaving, hands on his head as he tries to get his body back to equilibrium. He watches intently as Namjoon immediately takes the call, not even bothering to leave the studio to answer it. The rest of the members watch as Namjoon’s expressions morph into happiness, combined with short “yes”es and “I understands.” 

Namjoon makes eye contact with Jungkook first and beams, “She’s awake!” 

What originally felt like a hot and stifling room, immediately dissipates into an air of relief. While not all the members may not know you personally, the thought of a fellow co-worker on the road to recovery is enough to ease their exhaustion. 

“What?” Jungkook doesn’t hide it, and collapses on the floor, thoroughly spent for today. “Is she okay?” 

“Well, she actually just passed out. But she’s conscious.” 

“What, why?” Jimin asks, rolling a water bottle over to Jungkook. 

“Doctors say she woke up in a panic, started freaking out when it sunk in that she’s been in a coma since winter.” Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully of the thought of you scared and feeling trapped in that small hospital bed. 

“Well, can we go see her in the morning?” Jungkook says hopefully, biting his lip. 

“We can’t,” Namjoon confesses, looking down at his shoes in disappointment, “at least not right now. y/n was apparently terrified. The doctors think she’s suffering from some form of PTSD, because she can’t recall anything that happened after she got hit. Her guardians are sending her to a facility for her to process her trauma. It’s in the countryside, and she’s not allowed visitors until she’s fully recovered.” 

Just when Jungkook thinks he has you back, you’re already far from his reach. He should be happy, knowing that you are well on your way to get better. He’s thankful enough that you’re finally awake. But the small, selfish part of him wants to visit you, and comfort you. 

Whether you’ll let him or not is your choice, but this time, he decides he’s going to fight for you. 

[maggotmouth]

          hillo sexthy legends !!   i’m nora and i’ll be writing margo colby n probs sm1 else bcos lets be real, i lack self-control. u can find her pinterest here n some info abt her sexy self below the cut. plot with me on discord ( hot girl midsommar#8664 ) or in my ims !!  x o x

     * CAMILA MORRONE, CIS WOMAN + SHE / HER  | you know MARGO COLBY, right? they’re TWENTY-THREE, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, ELEVEN YEARS? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to SCRAWNY BY WALLOWS  like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole BLEACH WHITE SNEAKERS POUNDING ON A GYMNASIUM FLOOR, USING THE SAME BLUNT SCISSORS TO HACK THE SLEEVES OFF AN EXES T-SHIRT THAT YOU USE TO CUT YOUR 3AM FRINGE, A WALNUT-SHAPED ACHE IN THE PIT OF YOUR STOMACH FOR THE PERSON YOU COULD HAVE BEEN thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is AUGUST 8TH, so they’re a LEO, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nora, 25, gmt, she/her )

CLICK ANYWHERE ON THIS SENTENCE FOR SEXII GOOGLE DOC!!

bullet point summary of margo.

—   born margaret but NOBODY calls her that. its colby, coach or margo, and go to the privileged few. margo grew up in the creek commune n then dropped out of school cos of a teenage pregnancy so she was a bit of a cautionary tale back in’t’day (said tht in my yorkshire accent). she now works for summer camps coaching pee wee soccer and pee wee cheer, as well as helping out her beekeeper dad on his honey farm, which is jst north of abernathy creek, and working at scuba on the off seasons.

—  its just her and her dad, and has been for as long as she can recall !! everything she knows about her mum could fit on the back of the weathered passport photo she keeps in her wallet of a stranger who shares her face - her name’s melody, or at least tht was name she used when working as a dancer, she’s from argentina and dropped mag’s dad as soon as someone w more money came along.

—  margo’s father is a beekeeper with his own organic honey company. margo and her dad moved to irving in the early 00s, the summer between grade school and middle school, because her dad had heard about the communal living in abernathy creek and wanted to lend his skills there and live off the fatta the land in a very lenny from of mice and men kinda way.

—  for a few years of middle school margo was bullied for living with the ‘freaks from the creek’, but when they realised how chill her dad was with underage drinking, margo ‘keg-bringer’ colby soon gained popularity among the more renegade students. every so often, the high school parties would happen at her end of town, occasionally with members of the commune even offering the high schoolers a spiritual experience they’d never forget (often in the form of mushrooms) which meant people tried to stay on her good side. to get an invite to a margo colby party handed you a free pass to make up the most ridiculous shit about the commune you liked and nobody else could say anything, because they’d never been to the creek.

—  at school, margo had a lot of ‘behvioural issues’ bcos of undiagnosed adhd, she found it difficult to sit still for hours n write down huge chunks of information n her restlessness was seen as laziness. she was encouraged to do sports, as were most of the kids who weren’t that academically inclined, but she turned out to be pretty hot shit at sprinting, because she grew up surrounded by bee houses and he who runs slowest gets stung, baybeyy!! so yea, in school sports became her LIFE. she was gonna get a sports scholarship to college but ended up dropping out of school in senior year n becoming one of those kids who could have had it all but lost it.

—  she had sex with sutter at a house party when she wasnt really ready because it felt like the right thing to do at the time and everybody else was doing it. she’d attended health class, she’d seen the corny videos. she knew about all the statistics, but she also knew that it had never happened to anyone she knew and the pull out method was basically safer than the morning after pill and way less expensive.

—  a teenage pregnancy knocked her out of the runnings for prom queen and meant she had to leave school early. she didn’t go to college when her friends did, instead she spent the time interviewing potential foster candidates and eating her weight in lindt chocolate while marathoning love island in her room.  

—  she had a son, who she passed off to someone else a couple of towns away.  it was a closed adoption which seemed like the best idea at the time, but she now wishes she had access to his life.

—  after peaking in high school and jumping between jobs for a few years, she got a more permanent role at scuba which she loves with all of her heart and soul, but unfortunately a bar job doesn’t pay the rent.  

—  she works at summer camps coaching  junior soccer and netball on the side. she’s extremely competitive and takes it very personally if her team lose. the kids all call her, coach colby n write her longwinded letters about how they’ll never forget this summer camp before they go back to their suburban picket fence houses n she keeps all the letters in a drawer n takes them out to read when she’s feelin depressed.

—  enjoys surfing and worked for a number of years on resorts like mila kunis’ job in forgetting sarah marshall. she went on to work 18-hour days as a stewardess on luxury yachts which is a part of her backstory i added after watching season one of below deck because i guess i really am that fucking impressionable. met most of her surf friends doing tht but said she’d never in her life do it again bcos it was mostly just picking up after rich white ppl for shit pay. she came back to irving n thats when she started doing the summer camp jobs so she could move out of the creek n get her own apartment. 

—  she never actually finished senior year so she’s currently going to night school at the community college to get through her exams and is trying to save to go to college or open university. she wants to major in criminology. she’s super ambitious but also super adhd so she fluctuates between thinking she can achieve anything to just feeling like a failure n thinkin whats the point

—  used to shoplift to feel joy and as an act of resistance to her hippy commune routes, but now sees herself as a reformed, bin-diving freegan (sims 4 eco living can i get a hell yaaaa). also she thinks it’s totally wrong to steal when you have enough money and clearly don’t need to steal to survive, ppl risk imprisonment for basic necessities, so for her to do it for a brief thrill and some new shades felt a bit derogatory

—  was raised jewish. became a vegetarian as a child because it seemed, at the time, easier than having to explain which foods she was and wasn’t allowed to eat together, so she just cut out meat entirely. still a vegetarian now and dabbles in veganism, although its become less about not eating certain meats in the milk of their mother and more about her global impact / carbon footprint

—  nurses little animals to health in her garden. has a hedgehog name OJ short for orange juice not the other one filthy pig. her and her dad have always been huge animal rights activists and existed on a vegetarian diet. the only one in their house who isn’t vegetarian is their cat, auggie. (short 4 augustus gloop)

—  has a lot of stupid ass stick and poke tattoos. there was a phase during her years as a barmaid where she wanted to train as a tattoo artist n would mostly practice on herself or any friends who would let her

—  she doesn’t form many long lasting friendships cos she tends to be super excited when she makes a new friend and just see them all the time but then it wears off and she can ghost a bit. she’ll always coming pinging back but she’s not the most predictable or loyal friend, sometimes she’ll sleep in your house every night for a week and then you won’t even get a text from her for a month. her best friends are elderly neighbours and houseless people she meets when volunteering at the foodbank. she thinks they’re more authentic than most of the ‘fake posers’ she meets down the vela pier

—  calls herself a butch lesbian but still has sex with men when she wants validation. sexually attracted to some men, especially effeminate men, but only romantically attracted to women. very possessive of the gals in her life.

—  stopped giving a shit about getting older or adhering to anyone elses bullshit standards, realised it was all fake p much as soon as she dropped out of school and one by one her friends just stopped texting her

—  lives in one of the lofts in port apartments. it’s open plan with rugs and lava lamps everywhere. she has a palette bed. its all very ‘sustainable chic’. like, oh wow, a pallet bed that im supposed to think you made from scratch but i KNOW you got it  off ebay because you thought it looked trendy

—  constantly says shes poor but still buys clothes from urban outfitters. sus.

—  frequently found at fannies flirting with the cute bisexual bartender with a choppy black bob.

general vibe / personality

vibrant, vulgar, self-absorbed, tenacious, veers bewteen apathetic and dogmatic, temperamental, flighty, unreliable, magnetic, charismatic, passive aggressive, likes to play devil’s advocate, takes the moral high ground. estp and a leo

likes: 70s music, john wayne movies, black mirror, philosophy, cowboy chic culture, dc comics, the smell of locker rooms,, deep red lipstick, lacrosse sticks, smoking weed from a bong, dogs, karaoke, pet rats, kate moss, late-night strolls, hawaaiian shirts worn open over a bralette, skinned knees, thai food, picking the apples at the very top of the trees, zip-lining, cigarettes, the idea of pegging but not the practical application of it, decorative lamps, LGBTQ+ pin badges, worn-out furniture, twangy electric guitars.

dislikes: girls who call other girls ‘pick me’ girls, woody allen movies, mental mathematics, wealthy children, quentin tarantino, ironing, institutionalised misogyny, the imaginary future, french literature, ‘dump him’ feminism, wes anderson films, spoken word poetry nights, college-educated bar staff who act like they’re better than you,  indie softbois, the general mentality of cheerleading squads.

aesthetics

orange peel, the smell of bleach, skeleton drawings in the margins of a journal, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, bleach white sneakers pounding on a gymnasium floor, setting dumpsters on fire for the hell of it. a hit flask of vodka decorated with hello kitty stickers, split knuckles, alien conspiracy theories and sci-fi paperbacks, doc martens with fraying laces, a child in an oversize bee keepers suit, scabbed knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you,  a tennis racket you punched through in a fit of temper, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

hoo boy this is getting LONG AS FUCK but here are my wanted plots

wanted plots

ok margo’s been in irving since she was like 10. she’s quite a vivacious person?? she dresses completely instinctively without any sense of cohesion so she stands out. a guy once told her she was wearing the ugliest outfit he’d ever seen and he thought that was so cool and brave of her. but anyway where was i going.. she grew up in the abernathy creek so stuck out like a sore thumb,,,, maybe ppl who were super interested in the creek or maybe poked fun at her bcos of it idk.....

b4 she dropped out, margo used 2 b in with the cool kids at school bcos her dad would buy them booze and rarely ask for the money. maybe a fun plot cld b with some of the ‘it girls’ she used to hang around with b4 she got pregnant n dropped out and they all went off to college n stopped texting her.

frinds !! unlikely friends !! toxic friends !! some1 she feels like she knew before irving ???

since margo literally can’t differentiate between romantic and platonic love, she’s got off with so many of her mates, so i want awkward friendships where they nearly dated, or exes that have now just turned into weird friendships. fwbs. enemies with benefits. all the angst. all the slow burn mutual pining we hate each other narratives

locals who play sports. margo wld be all over community soccer n take it way too seriously. maybe ppl she plays hockey with. girls who she’s like, weirdly intimate with but its not a thing cos the other girls straight !!! what do u mean !! aha just fun !

she works part time at scuba. i want a mate that just goes and sits in there talking to her until her manager gets angry.

she's also a surf instructor and occasionally works as a lifeguard!! gal has like 7 jobs ik but regular swimmers hmu

ppl she coaches at the gym !! she wants to be a personal trainer

i reckon she might have recently started meditating to try and calm down her mind cos its always bustling with thoughts, n i think she’s p interested in buddhism so if anyone’s a buddhist hmu

someone she’s trying to make a zine with on female empowerment and women in film and art, etc. just a very feminist zine. 

TLDR:  angry sports gay, former high school track prodigy turned drop out, who likes feminist literature, wearing leather jackets over slip dresses, and smudged red lipstick.

this was so long !!! im sorry !! if you’ve read this far have a biscuit, love x

[mrs-mikko-rantanen]

Uhm, my day was decent? I mean aside from the fact that mornings exist and I did not want to wake up in time for my shift at work. But. And the end of the day when I have literal hours to do stuff after.. it works out cuz. Usually I get off and its oh shit I have enough time to halfway emotionally recharge and then its time for bed.

But. I got in and E^2 had put like. My name down on the schedule, and. That was great really. And we had this sheet for sign up of, basically what areas you want to be personally responsible for. And I signed light and it was great. And I dont think anyone really noticed cuz the manager wasn't there and no one else really looked at the schedule or anything else. But. It made me happy.

Still haven't gotten my name tag changed and honestly I dont think I'm going to. Cuz. I feel like I'm just being a bother asking again. But. It is what it is I guess.

I got off at five and its now nine and ive just been vibing in the car listening and singing to Spotify since I got off just trying to keep the sad at bay. And I should probably go home but. I dont want to. Cuz I know I'm just gonna wallow in the sad and self destructive tendencies if i go home.. If I ask nicely will the fae take me in as one of their own and I can become a cryptid in the woods?????

I have a three day weekend coming up and im considering doing a touch up on my hair since its really washed out. But I cant decide if I wanna keep it fully red or try and do like an ombre double tone thingy.. but I'm not sure what other color I'd try to do to the tips? Idk

I kinda wish my hair was longer so I could do like. The galaxy hair thing? Where its various shades of purple and blue and some pink and it looks different depending on how you style it. But I also know attempting to grow my hair out longer than I already plan to is a bad idea, cuz the sides and back are already getting too long and I hate it. But I wish I could do fun stuff with it too

Oh well. The duality of man i guess..

Uhm. I bought a giant plastic egg the other day, that reminds me of a dragons egg kinda. And I'm trying to decide if I should keep a hoard of dice in there or a hoard of crystals. Cuz. Dice and the clacky math rocks. But. Also shiny crystally gems

Speaking of dice I also really kinda want to try and get into a dnd group, but social anxiety and I have zero idea where to start with that so. That's fun.

Im currently resisting the urge to go and get more holes and metal in my head too. I just. The red hair makes me feel cool and powerful and I wanna look punk and

Sorry I've been rambling for like half a novel. I'll stop now before I get annoying. I mean I definitely already am. But you asked for asks and distractions and 👉👈 I love you

Id ask about your day but you seem to want a distraction from that sooo. How about, got any fun headcanons to share??

Thats awesome on the name front!!! I saw that and I got really excited for you when you posted the picture this morning, honestly I think you should bring up the nametag again, esspecially if its showing up on the schedule too. (Oddly enough I kicked around the idea of using a new name with friends and sruff today which is weird mostly bc like i like my name irl, its fairly androgynous and it makes me happy and i love my online name bc it means me :))

My vote is two tone!! I almost did a pink/purple ombre with my hair this round so I say do ittttt (that's also what I say about the extra holes and metal. Do itttttrrr)

That would be a hard choice but u do really like the idea of a giant dragons egg full of dice ngl. I need to find some people to play with too. I'm trying to get b and c in on something but idk if its ever really gonna pan out the way I want it too. My town actually has a pretty active dnd community but I am way too new and way too socially anxious to ever join something like that so I feel you there.

100% not annoying, each paragraph made me smile more. :)

My day was actually mostly ok, i just sorta ruined it with Danny at home. I just pointed out that the idealized dream band life that I wanted and thought I had was what she got and that it made me kinda jealous and she pointed out (correctly) that I'm jealous of so many aspects of her life that she now has a list of things she can't talk to me about for fear of setting me into a spiral and just. Yeah. That wasnt fun.

But work was ok. The kids all were really tierd so there was a fair bit of crying going on, but the weather was really nice so we got to go outside with them for a long time and that was very nice. I also got some really sweet cuddles from a few of them that made me very happy.

Oh! I also have a funny story about them!! So I was squatting (my main position is almost like Spiderman bc I'm down on the kids' level but i can also get up and move if I need to pretty quick) and one of the girls goes and gets a book, then stands right in front of me and points at the floor and says "sit" in the most authoritative voice I have ever hear from a 1 1/2 year old 😂 as soon as I sat down she was in my lap and opening the book so I could read to her.

As far as headcanons.... Sadly my brain is bouncimg mostly art ideas for the Tamgled au and not anything of substance so I may take a crack at that later. Otherwise I keep thinking about whumped up Will crying on the floor and Maurie finding him. Really I'm just thinking about Maurie and Will being bros. A lot. So much. God I love them.

[muhgie]

post op day 4

i have dry socket. i did everything i could to avoid it, but i got it anyway. im in so much pain. i feel gross. i just wanna give up on this

i called my oral surgeons emergency line and they didnt answer. idk if i will even go if they ask me to come in, bc they might put gauze on it or flush it out and its just gonna hurt so bad. im scared about my oral health now because of it. i have an irrational fear of all my teeth falling out

i just feel terrible. all i want to do is sit around and cry. i cant eat any of the foods i enjoy, and even then, all the food can i eat tastes horrible regardless bc of the dry socket. it feels like i have perpetual cottonmouth. i feel like doing nothing but wallowing in my own self pity rn. it’s frustrating bc i wish i could just be living normally

the majority of today consisted of me laying in bed and crying. at one point gizmo came over n made biscuits on me while i was crying, it was sweet. she fell asleep on my chest and we took a nap together.

i had therapy this morning n it went well. today i ate mac n cheese, ice cream, and jello. im sick of it. i just wanna eat some vegetables

marc has been so sweet and patient taking care of me. he keeps making me laugh tho which is nice and helps me feel better but it physically hurts to smile. lol

[chezforshire]

AU where marceline is the school's local harana for hire she writes quick songs for anyone who wants to have a song sung for anyone for whatever reason they want

It's usually a lot of love songs (she's gotten tired of this really fast) but sometimes she gets requests for songs for friends

Anyway, Lady and Jake help her out with this business by making bouquets and playing along with her respectively. And Bon is usually just someone she bounces ideas with cause Marce may know so many people, but there's still a number of rich prissy losers that Bon knows and that's usually her clients. Also, Bon loves getting to stretch her writing skills.

(Though she's also pretty tired of love songs)

Marce gets a commission one day to make a song for Bon and she just kinda. Stares at it. Her clients aren't anonymous. Well, not usually. A lot of her songs are made from shared memories and the small percent made from flowery words are usually douchelords who are too confident about their place to think they'd need anonymity in case of rejection.

So when she sees that this one didn't have a name she was a little... confused. There was also the fact that Bon is notorious for saying no to everyone who tries to ask her out. And not in a way where friends tell friends this, but more of she said no to a guy who payed the whole school to get in on his grand plan to ask her out

(Even Marce tho it wasn't for a song. It was more of he asked her to drive Bon to school at a specific time. She obviously told Bon this but they didn't have a lot of time to talk about it bc the guy texted everyone their roles literally on midnight and wired the cash after sending the message.

A little worrying how he not only got everyone's number but also everyone's bank account. She and most of her friends changed phones then bc that was creepy as all hell)

She doesn't tell Bon. Not because of some customer confidentiality or whatever but because... Well she doesn't really know. It just made her irrationally irritated and sad. Odd.

She takes far longer than usual to reply to this. She doesn't understand the hesitation. Or maybe she does? Bon has called her a bleeding heart a million times and she guesses thats the reason. She feels bad for them and doesn't want to watch another person who put in effort be rejected. Yeah that's it. She should tell him that. Maybe they were new or something. It'll be fine, plus they didn't want a full song so they werent paying much. Yeah, that sounds like a game plan.

The next day she says yes and wonders all day why she did that

For about a month she keeps this commission to herself. She spaces out more than usual during this time. Not quite disassociating, just staring into space and thinking.

Bon isn't worried bc this is usually how she gets when she's got a song in the works. She needles her about what it is and who it's for, but she generally deflects and at some point just straight up lies and says some random names.

She also learns more about her client. They're not new, they've actually known Bon for about 3 to 5 years. They're pretty close apparently and actually knows Marce personally. Theyve talked several times and have hung out here and there too. (That sure didn't make her anxiety and paranoia skyrocket)

She feels a lot of anxiety and worry and trepidation and god other irrational shit about this commission. She doesn't really tell anyone (something her therapist, or Bon more importanly Bon, would frown at) so she's just left to wallow about it on her own. She tries working on it as much as she can but it just feels... wrong somehow. She doesn't really get it but she feels like she'll lose something because of this. She doesn't get it. She knows they'll be rejected and they'll all laugh at it in the end and just.

What is it. What's wrong.

She feels a tap on her shoulder and she almost falls off her bed. Jake's apparently been trying to talk to her for a solid minute and oh jeez now he's got that Worried Big Brother look.

He peers at her and asks what's wrong and not-so-subtly threatens that he'll stay and use his Big Brother mode on her if she tries to lie to him

She just sighs heavily and curls up

"Someone commissioned a suicide mission"

Jake makes an 'o' with his mouth. Theyve always called anyone who tried to flirt with Bon a suicide mission and laughed pretty hard at it. Even Bon calls the poors souls who try suicide missions.

She uncurls a bit and faces Jake with a small smile, ready to laugh with him about it as she should. But for some reason Jake just... Looks at her with this worried look. Not his patented Im-Worried-For-You-Little-Sibling but more of one would give to a friend when they know something they don't.

Marce laughs, shakey and unsure. "What? S'not like this doesn't happen. It's Bon, ya know? The sweatheart of the school." With a mean streak that rivals the devil, she adds quietly- fondly- in her head.

Jake just nods slowly. He drags his eyes away from her and stares at her wall, eyes unfocused.

Marce starts having a bit of a panic because what is that face, why is Jake acting like this, is there somethin on her wall, wait does he know the client, is he friends with the client, is he the client, w-

Jake flops his short, chunky body on her bed and pulls her to lay down too. Roughly, might she add. And not to mention absolutely unexpected.

He's smiling again, big and all teeth. It twitches for a second when he makes eye contact but bounces back so quick she thinks she might have imagined it.

"Ha! You're gonna write for a suicide mission this is hilarious!" He makes a move to ruffle her hair and she just starts flailing to avoid this. "Man! I haven't seen one in a while so this'll be fun at least. Something else to keep us busy other than those stupid douchefucks who thinks a song is a sure fire way to get laid."

Marce is confused but doesn't question this sudden change. Plus it actually helps? She snickers -because no, she doesnt giggle she is cooler than that- at the thought of watching the client be rejected before Marce can even pull out her guitar.

"Yeah, threw me off like hell cause Bon is practically legendary but hey apparently there are still some brave souls out there."

"Oh dude, I've got a great ass idea," Jake sits up and leans on his elbows, "Let's keep this a secret from princess. Oh and Lady cause you know she cant keep anything from her."

Marce kinda laughs at this in confusion. "Uh what? Why? If you haven't noticed my services include a bouquet and unless you've learned flower language I dont think we can take Lady outta the equation."

He snorts "I may not know flowers, but I know my girlfriend. I can just be vague and she'll take it as a challenge and try to make the perfect bouquet. S'no problem on that front.

"I figured we could keep it a secret so we can see Bon's pure and raw reaction. Like I said, there hasn't been a suicide mission in a looooong while so she probably doesn't expect this. And it'll be way more funny cause someone commissioned you for it. Where it is no secret that a) you do this and b) you get help from the three of us."

"You got a point there detective. Bur fair warning, Bon will be giving us the stink eye for days if we do this. Especially me because she's my thesaurus and metaphor maker. You know how she loves taking credit for making them sound like a stupid romance novel."

"Psh, she loves you to hell and back. She'll just pout at you for a while and when you buy her her favourite candy it'll be right as rain."

Okay, that sounded valid but at the same time Marceline kind of shut down after Jake said Bon loves her so uh she guesses she'll just trust that it'll be fine?

" 'nother idea," Jake says softly. He's looking at he- actually. No he's not looking at her, hes just looking her way but his eyes are just. Not there.

"Uh, shoot"

"Make this song the best you've ever made."

Marceline laughs for a second before she realizes okay wait Jake is serious about that. What. Why the fuck would she do that.

He shrugs and smiles again. Soft and pitying -what why why is Jake acting like this what the fuck- and he gestures around a bit before speaking.

"Well, first off it'll be good practice for you. You've been workin with Bon for about as log as you've been doing this so think of this as a test to see how you are now on your own.

"Second, well ya gotta admit if you pull out a banger and Bon actually likes it it'll be way funnier cause you can sing it and she'll look all annoyed but you can see that her tapping her foot and bobbing her head. It'll be funny for everyone involved.

"And lastly," Jake takes a deep breath before speaking, as if this is one of the toughest things he's done in a while. "Call it a father's intuition."

She stares at him. She- she doesn't know hwo to react to that.

After a second, Jake cracks a soft smile and "Did you get Lady pregnant, you fucking askal" just slips out of her mouth.

Jake laughs loud and boisterous at this and Marce just follows.

Yeah, she might as well make this the best one she's ever made. The client won't get the girl, but at least she can make her like it

[lesbianmonsterlover]

Female Werewolf x Female Reader (part 1)(SFW)

Hey, so, basically this was in my head and I had it get it out.  When I made it to page six with no end in sight, but at a good stopping point for now, I wanted to get out a post.  So I guess this is going to be a two-parter!

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Your walk home from work always consisted of a trek through a dark alley between the back of two restaurants.  Most people were scared of the thought of walking down such a street at that hour of the night, but you knew that the presence of security cameras behind the two establishments meant that no one was dumb enough to stake out there in hopes of catching someone unawares.  You so rarely encountered anyone or anything else in that stretch of your walk - save for the occasional worker coming out the backdoor of their place of work with the trash - that when you began seeing the same battered looking dog regarding you warily night after night you started bringing it treats.  

The first time you stopped it was because you were carrying home some leftovers from a work lunch, your team had gone to a steakhouse and you couldn’t finish your strip steak, so you took it home to maybe have for dinner or over a salad for lunch tomorrow.  The thought went through your mind, though, as you approached the alley to maybe offer the meat to the sweet, sad looking pup.  Well, pup was probably the wrong term, but aren’t all dogs puppies really?  The creature was huge, you’d have guessed nearly waist height while standing on all fours, and a pure midnight black with one startlingly clear crystal blue eye.  They’d always eye you warily as you walked through the alley, although they never once raised a hackle or a growl your way even when you’d coo hello on your way past.

Before you can stop yourself you pull the little cardboard takeout box of steak out of your bag and pop open the lid, revealing half of a steak sliced into strips laid out along with some of those roasted potatoes.  You double checked to make sure nothing had any garlic (bad for a pupper’s stomach) and after being sure this was all safe for the big dog you walked into the alley intent on offering it to them.  

The huge canine was curled up in a ball where they usually were, deep in the shadows of a little alcove set into the building where their fire hookup was.  “Hey gorgeous.”  You croon down at the dog, but instead of continuing your walk, for the first time ever you squat lightly in front of the big creature and give it a tentative, closed mouth smile.  “My eyes were bigger than my stomach at lunch I guess, and I think you’d enjoy this more than I would tonight.”  You set the cardboard takeout box down, open, on the ground and shuffle it towards the dog, who meanwhile had perked up and began regarding you with a sort of aloof wariness.  You just sit there, looking happily and quietly at the dog as it sniffed first at the cardboard box and then at its contents before picking up a piece of steak and snapping it into their mouth with a satisfied rumble.  Content that the dog is happy and eating you stand and coo out a goodbye to the beautiful creature who doesn’t even look twice at you as you walk back home.  You’re maybe a little sad that you won’t have your leftovers tonight, but you happily pop in some of your frozen lasagna and can’t find it in you anywhere to regret feeding that dog.  

You had more than enough padding in your income, considering you’re single and don’t really do a whole lot other than work and hang out at home watching Netflix and partaking in your hobbies, that you didn’t think twice about starting to bring a little something for the dog every day.  Maybe you’d earn its trust, and you could bring them home!  And be friends!  You’d wanted a dog for a while, a furry cuddler who would want to hang out half on your lap while you pet its fluffy ears, but also a dog who would help make sure you get out of the house a few times a day and actually walk, do something.  The next day you stop in to the diner around the corner from your office to get a side of bacon, presenting it to the confused but happy dog with another smile.  You sit a little longer, talking lightly about your day and how excited you were to see them that evening.  “You know, seeing you is starting to be the best part of my day.  So I thought maybe I’d bring you some treats to let you know I appreciate it.”  You give another sweet, closed lip smile to the dog before standing and continuing on home.  You really, really want to pet the dog.  Their ears looked so soft!  But you didn’t want to invade their personal space, especially as a stray.  You didn’t want to get your hand bitten off, of course, but you also wanted to make sure that the dog continued to trust you.  

You brought something every day after work, five days a week.  The dog still didn’t let you touch them, but you started to notice them perking up before you came into the alley, and their tail had even started to thump a little against the ground when they sighted you.  You were three months into this arrangement when you were fired.  You knew why, you had denied the advances of a superior and they began making your life a living hell at work, writing you up over every infraction.  You were consulting with a lawyer but that didn’t stop it from scaring you.  You had to get your resume in order now and start a job search, could you use this place as a reference?  Probably not, well shit.  You’re empty handed today, and this time instead of squatting you kneel down heavily on the pavement in front of the dog.  You give them a sad smile.  “Sorry sweetheart, I’m empty handed today.  I know, I’m disappointing you, I’m sorry.  I got fired today, so money’s gonna be a little tight, and I don’t think I’m going to have an excuse to walk through this neighborhood anymore.”  

You’re crying now, fat tears running down your cheeks, and before you can lift a hand to wipe them away the dog licks one off of your cheek and whines at you.  “I’m gonna miss you sweetheart, I wish you’d come with me.”  With a shaking hand you hesitantly stroke up the dog’s neck and over the top of their head.  They let out a chuff that sounds like a resigned sigh before licking over your cheek again and pressing their cold nose into your neck.  It makes you giggle and scratch behind their ears.  When you eventually stand after calming down the dog also stands up.  It’s missing one foreleg, something you never noticed, although it doesn’t seem to impede their movement in the least.  You were right to think they were huge too, their back reaching up to the bottom of your rib cage.  You aren’t sure what to expect, you’re hoping they’ll follow you home you guess, but instead of doing that they just stand there watching you as you walk away.  You pause at the end of the alley and glance back, waiting a beat to see if they’ll join you.  When they don’t you deflate a little but continue your walk back to your little one story house.  

It’s in a neighborhood that isn’t great, but you’re quiet and keep to yourself and keep your head down.  People leave you alone, you don’t get in anyone’s business, and everyone’s happy.  You have a little yard surrounded by a short brick fence with an old wrought iron gate.  The gate had been in terrible condition when you bought the house, but a little elbow grease and some fresh paint had it looking good as new.  The whole house was a little dingy looking, but homey and put together.  The tiny front yard was full to bursting with flowers and plants, other than a little concrete path from the road to the front door.  The inside is cozy, thrifted furniture and handmade decorations.  You may not be rich, but you live quite happily within your means with enough leftover for some of your wants.  

You take the weekend to wallow.  You drink wine and eat ice cream and cry, binge watching shows and lying on the couch.  When you wake up on Monday though you feel a little better if slightly hungover, and you spend the day going over your resume and figuring out how to go about your job search.  When evening comes you’re interrupted by a sound out your back door that’s unfamiliar to you.  It’s almost like a knock, but not quite, and it’s followed by a thud and whine.  

The being standing at your backdoor, under the flickering warm light above the entryway, is huge.  Towering over you is a pitch black void of light standing on two powerful hind legs, holding a man in a ski mask up by his throat while he hangs limply from its clawed grip.  The creature is missing an arm and one of its eyes, and after a beat you recognize that whatever this thing is...it’s also the dog from behind the restaurant.  You faint. 

When you wake up you’re back on your couch, and as you blink up at the ceiling you recall your weird dream from earlier where the dog from the restaurant alley was standing outside your house.  But it wasn’t the dog, it was a werewolf.  Or it looked like a werewolf.  You chuckle to yourself before turning onto your side and promptly startling off the couch at the sight in front of you.  

The creature from what you were sure is a dream is sitting back on its haunches like a large dog, staring at you from its one intelligent blue eye.  It’s impossibly big, even sitting you think their head would reach the middle of your chest.  “Holy shit!”  You pop up from behind your coffee table to see the big creature cowering slightly and looking at you with their ears pinned back. 

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”  The rough voice of the creature hits your ears and you’re startled back into silent contemplation.  Okay, so, it can talk.  “Figured since you took care’a me, I’d keep watch over ya.  Found some guy sniffin’ ‘round your place so I took care of ‘im.”  

“Thank you.”  Your reply is a little quiet, and you’re staring slack-jawed at a creature that really, truly isn’t supposed to exist.  They huff out something that sounds like a laugh, although there’s a sort of self deprecating edge to it that you don’t like.  

“Yeah, this’s why I didn’t take ‘ya up on yer offer.”  They grimace, frowning as best as they can with their muzzle and sinking into themselves to make themselves smaller.  Immediately you try to perk up and break out of whatever your trance is.  

“No, no!  Please, don’t leave, I’m just surprised.  I didn’t think...I mean, I thought you were just a big...dog?  Obviously you’re not!  But I mean, you can’t blame me for being surprised can you?  Up until a few minutes ago werewolves were a fictional concept for me.”  They look a little sheepish at that, but settle down onto the rug in your living room and look at you curiously. 

“Keep fergettin’ humans ain’t connected with the super-nat’ral world no more really.”  They pin you with that icy blue gaze.  “You can feel our connection though, can’tcha?”  Your heart is racing, thrumming in your throat as you listen to the implication in that voice.  It’s true you’d felt drawn to that dog, but your heart always broke for poor strays out in the world.  You didn’t think it was any different to the feeling you’d get for any dog you saw regularly enough to get to know.  But sitting in front of you in this form there’s something about the pull that’s a little bit deeper, more intense.  “Can hear yer heart racing, pretty ‘lil rabbit.  Y’know, yer the reason I’m in this town in’the first place.”  You give a confused look and they chuckle raspily.  “S’the connection, ‘lil rabbit, we know to look for it when we start to feel it.  Was jes’ passin’ through to get back ta my pack, but I couldn’t leave without my mate.”  

“M-Mate?”  You can only ask that question in a small, soft voice as they chuckle at you again, languidly flowing up and stalking around the coffee table to tower over you from where you’re still sitting on the floor.  Their cold nose on your pulse point makes you shriek, but you bare your neck up rather submissively instead of pull away. 

“I was serprised too ‘lil rabbit, human mates’re rare shit.  ‘Specially for animals like me.”  They inhale deeply at your neck before licking up the column of your throat to your jaw.  “‘M a lucky woman, my ‘lil mate is cute as shit, ‘n you smell so fucking good.”  Your answering whimper prompts another low growl from her chest, and her jaw locks around your throat just enough to leave the imprint of her teeth on your neck.  When she sits back on her haunches and towers over you again her eye is sparking heat as she gazes at you.  “Was tryin’ ta figger out how ‘ta meetcha all natural like, but then ya stopped comin’ round ‘n tonight happened an’ I had’ta protect ya, rabbit, and when ya saw me and ya fainted I panicked.”  

Your laugh is loud and powerful, and you startle the werewolf into silence as she word vomits out at you.  Before she can look too upset though you lean forward and hug her, resting your head on her chest.  Her hand are is more like a human hand than a paw, although each finger is still tipped with harsh claws that make you shiver as they rake through your hair to scratch your scalp pleasantly.  You nuzzle your face into the fluffy fur of her chest, pleased to feel the give of small breasts beneath the dark fuzz.  Your content sigh has her let out a low rumble, laving her tongue across your ear in an affectionate swipe. 

“Well, I think you did just fine.  Protected me from a burglar and everything.  Thank you for that, by the way.”  You smile up at her, cupping her jaw with one hand as you tug her down to your level in order to place a chase human kiss on her snout.  She lets out a content little whine that makes you giggle, and settles her big head in your lap so you can card your fingers through her fur around her ears and down the back of her skull.  “What’s my mate’s name?” 

Her tail thumps wildly against the floor for a moment as she stares up from your lap with her eye wide and sparkling.  “Kara, ‘lil rabbit.  An’ don’t go ‘round callin’ me yer mate if you aren’t gonna accept the claim, sweets.”  Her growl has a low, seductive timbre to it in the end, and you swallow thickly before nodding.  “Already in dangerous territory rabbit, betcha didn’t know all’a those times ya fed me was you courtin’ me.”  Her smile is appropriately wolfish.  “Now how ‘bout your name?”  You stumble over introducing yourself, and the way Kara purrs your name back to you makes your insides flip pleasantly.  

“If I...I mean, if I were to accept the claim, what would that mean?  Remember, I’m a human, I’m kinda ignorant about all of this.”  You continue petting over her skull as she settles back into your lap, humming thoughtfully, her one arm moving to encircle you slightly, toying with the hem of your shirt where it lays against the floor at your hip.  

“Means yer mine, forever.  Kinda like marriage, but no divorce, not like yer gonna wanna leave me anyway rabbit.”  She gives you a one-eyed wink that still manages to make you blush.  “Means I take care’a ya, keep ya fed, housed, protected, warm, satisfied.”  The way she gazes up at you with promise at the last word makes you swallow thickly, trying not to shift your hips at the implication.  “Bring ya into my pack, you’d be parta the family.  I gotta ‘lil cabin out in the woods, most’ve us do since they mostly spend time in a human form, but it’s a place’a my own.  Feels awful lonely without my mate.”  

The two of you talk through the night, and fall asleep together in a pile on your living room floor.  Her story breaks your heart.  She wasn’t born into the pack she’s currently a part of.  Her original family couldn’t believe that their daughter had inherited their dominant gene while their son preferred to be much more passive.  But her parents took advantage of her need to be accepted and love, and forced her to spend so much time shifted that she gradually forgot how to shift back.  Her human form had been lost to her since she was a child, and while her new packmates were working on it - that’s actually the reason she’d been passing through your city in the first place, to visit a physician who was sympathetic to werewolves, and who thought they  might be able to help her reclaim her human form and therefore some semblance of normalcy and a place in broader society.

You’re surprisingly comfortable when you wake for someone who slept on the ground, but when you come to full consciousness you to find yourself draped fully over the big fuzzy woman you realize why.  You didn’t really sleep on the ground, you slept on a big fluffy cushion in effect.  You want to accept the claim.  It’s not like you had anything tying you here any longer.  Your family wasn’t here, your job was gone, you can lighten up your load, break the lease, and just...go with this.  This is the adventure you used to spend nights wishing for, really.  Less “knight-in-shining-armor” and more “fuzzy-mercenary-who-would-kill-for-you” but still, someone who said they were destined for you, swept you off your feet and made you feel special, beautiful, perfect just as you are.  

“Thinkin’ hard there, rabbit.”  You squeak a little and jump as you’re broken out of your thoughts by the rough sleepy voice of Kara.  She chuckles at your reaction and then laughs when you pout up at her in return.  “Oh no, not that look rabbit, ‘s too cute.”  She nuzzles into the crown of your head, still chuckling.  Rubbing her scent all over you and yours on her in return.  

“Well, if you have to ask, I was thinking about the fact that I want to accept your claim.”  That stills the woman beneath you, and you let you a little shriek when she abruptly sits up, taking you with her until you’re sitting astride her lap as she gazes down at you, your face caged in her big hand. 

“What did’ja say?”  Her voice is hushed and almost reverent, her thumb stroking over your cheek with an impressive amount of gentleness.  You smile up at her and place your hand over hers on your cheek, your eyes sparkling happily. 

“I said I want to accept your claim, Kara.  I feel it too, and the thought of staying in this shitty city without you here with me causes me physical pain.  Wherever you go, I want to go with you.”  She growls pressing her muzzle to your lips and pushing her tongue into your mouth in one swift motion.  She hums at your taste, angling your head to her liking so she can take her time mapping out all of the spots that make you writhe against her.  When she pulls away, panting heavily, you can see her one pupil is blown with arousal.  

“Not here, rabbit, when I claim ya it’s gonna be in my house on my bed so we can make it all ours.”