#i spent nearly an hour making this. which. tells you how many opinions I have I guess.

[umbrify]

Making my own post so I don’t write a whole essay in the tags of mcytblr confessions. Re: this post about how shipping culture in the Hermitcraft fandom is so wildly different to how it is in the Dream SMP fandom. Under a read more for if you don’t care lmao

Honestly I do think it’s quite interesting, just how different the two fandoms are. For Hermitcraft, I think it’s just that like, they’ve already fought that war. I’ve seen the great hermitshipping discourse of 2019. They’ve had enough, gone over this. They’ve fought this war already. Nowadays for HC, it’s just “make sure you tag your posts correctly and you’re all good. If you don’t like it please just don’t interact.” Plus, the general consensus for the hermits is that like, they’re all adults, and they can just not look. And they’re all fine with that arrangement as well, as far as I can tell. The hermits leave us to it, and we be respectful and not post it where they’re gonna see it. Mutual respect and a good tagging system, and we’re all good. No more discourse.

For DSMP, it’s wildly different. The culture that the DSMP fandom established very quickly was that boundaries were the highest level of importance, and they wanted to make sure they weren’t disrespecting their CC’s. With that, it became commonplace to actively seek out a CC’s boundaries regarding all sorts of things. Because of that, there’s a lot of CC’s who have actively said no to stuff like shipping, and the fandom does their best to respect that, but sometimes it gets real messy.

As someone who’s been in the DSMP fandom for like, a year and a half at this point, I’ve seen plenty of shipping discourse about it. Of course there’s the beeduo discourse, with their characters being canonically married but the CC’s playing them saying no to shipping, and then there’s stuff like the whole hellfire that was the emerald duo QPR discourse. And honestly, there’s been no conclusion, really. Eventually it just kinda passes and we don’t talk about it anymore. I think that, if the DSMP fandom sticks around long enough, we’ll probably eventually have our shipping wars and eventually settle on something? But this fandoms ability to come to any consensus doesn’t leave me hopeful for that. (We’ve got what, like, three different names for the Wilbur and Ranboo duo at this point? That still pisses me off to this day.)

Honestly, I wonder if a lot of it doesn’t come down to the simple fact that the HC fandom has been around for a long time at this point. They’ve just had their ten year anniversary, and I’m sure they’ve seen it all at this point. Like I only recently joined the HC fandom, but it is SO refreshing being here. There’s like, no discourse about anything really, everyone is chill. They’ve probably already had every discourse you could possibly have, and they’ve settled it. Like I think the most I’ve seen in my time here was the Cleo swearing thing? And honestly, as a DSMP fan, I was just laughing about the concept of THAT being what’s considered a big deal.

Over in the DSMP fandom, I swear we can’t go one week without some new thing going wrong. You can be offline for a few hours and come back and it seems like your whole fandom is on fire. I’ve been told that the DSMP fandom has the kind of energy where it seems like it’s a lot of peoples first “big” fandom? And that makes sense honestly, with all the stuff I’ve seen. I still remember when people on Twitter were being canceled by other fans for the crime of uh… livetweeting? And everyone was like “you have to censor the names so they don’t trend!!” And then we fucking trended a censored version of “Karl” and it’s just. Guys. What are you trying to prove? Like you realize that your trending page is catered to what you personally interact with right? You realize it’s Twitter..? It’s not that deep?

I dunno. I could go on and on and on, and this post is already way longer than I thought it would be tbh. I’m just rambling at this point. There’s plenty of other random stuff I could say about the differences in these fandoms, I’m sure. I guess if any of you actually read this and want me to keep rambling abt it, let me know?

Thanks for coming to my fuckin Ted talk, I guess.

[genshinemblem564]

Sagau headcanons

Some of these may be important to future stories and story chapters

_______________________________________________

• The Creator of Teyvat has a divine presence so powerful that those who suffer from a curse need only stand in their presence for the curse to be lifted, this also affects spiritual contracts with steep prices, however, this dissolves the contract completely, both positive and negative effects.

• The immortals (archons, familiars, adepti) are all extremely bothered by how often you talk about "When I'm gone..." You apologize profusely telling them you haven't fully processed this information yet.

• Kaveh was the one to design your temple, and he's quite proud of this. You made the request to add a few extra rooms and he obliged, not knowing what you'd do with this space but not daring to ask. To his, and many others', surprise you had invited some of your loyal followers to live with you, these extra rooms were to provide proper work space for everyone.

• Unfortunately for your followers, the more important they were, the less time you could spend with them, as they are almost always busy with something. The only exception to this is Ei, with her Plane of Euthymia and the Shogun bearing the responsibilities, she could spend hours with you. She'd like to spend more time with you, but you also have your role to play.

• After being revealed as the creator, you spend a lot of time talking with Ayaka, as you begin to worry that some people are only being nice to you because of your title, just like her, so you know she's the right person to talk to about this. She can't help but feel a little guilty with how happy this makes her, she hates seeing you suffer, but she loves not only that you're relying on her, but that she's able to relate to you in some way as well.

• Venti is not happy with how he found out your identity. One night the two of you had a chance meeting, you spent a good few hours trading stories and ballads, the ones you shared were from or about other game worlds, and eventually the traveler and Paimon came by. As you spoke, the phrase "Tone-deaf Bard" left your lips, upon realizing what you said everyone there nearly screamed, you included. The only one to use Paimon's ugly nicknames other than Paimon, is the creator.

• Not really a self aware headcanon, but the traveler will always be Aether and the abyss ruler will always be Lumine in my writings,for two reasons, one, this is the choice I made on my account, and two, that is how it is in every trailer and ad I've seen.

• Aether once asked you your opinion on the Abyss Order, hoping to indirectly ask about Lumine. Everyone was shocked and annoyed by this "Why bother their grace with such a pointless question? The Abyss is the enemy of Teyvat so obliviously they despise them just as we do." That's what everyone said. You told them that the Abyss is one of the biggest bunch of hypocrites you've met. Everyone but Aether was confused by this, what made them hypocrites? That's when you revealed the Abyss Order's motives, needless to say everyone was shocked by this.

•More of a theory but I felt like sharing it in this format. It was only a matter of time before this happened. Abyss mages had surrounded you and Aether, not trying to harm you, more forcefully recruit you, and the Abyss princess herself was present. As expected, she "requested" you join her cause, to which you replied " I'm not siding with anyone who can't get their facts straight." Even Aether was confused this time, before Lumine could speak, you asked what she remembers of Khaenri'ah's destruction, she described it exactly as you remembered it except for one thing. You inquired about the strange power used to destroy the nation, because that power was eerily similar to the powers of the unknown god Aether is tracking, the fact that the Irminsul was tampered with only furthered your suspicions. Needless to say Lumine, as well as the present abyss soldiers were absolutely livid.

• The Abyss Order, upon gaining the knowledge you possessed, were quick to apologize and turn over a new lead, leaving everyone shocked and confused, even more so when you told them that a simple heart to heart was all it took. Now the siblings are reunited, hopefully for good this time, and Teyvat has one less major threat to deal with.

• You practically demanded that the anemo gnosis be returned by the Fatui, they thought you wanted all of them returned so they brought all of them to you, which prompted the response "Why did you bring all of them? I only wanted the anemo gnosis returned because it was stolen, the rest were obtained through fair deals and trade, you can keep them." The Fatui soldiers and harbingers were confused, but they weren't going to argue if you're letting them keep the rest of the gnoses.

• When you were first revealed to be the creator, Venti had asked why you drink so little, about one glass of wine a day. You thought you'd be funny and mess with your acolytes a little, leading you to say "Because, last time I got wasted tarantula hawks became a thing." You then proceeded to describe these nightmarish creatures in great detail. You come to regret this sudden outburst of mischief when you noticed Diluc hiding a wine bottle from you.

• If you're like me, then you tend to ramble about the games you enjoy, leading the younger followers to gather as you tell other worldly tales of heroism.

• Yanfei was impressed with you before you even arrived in Teyvat. In fact, you had her respect soon after you first met, looking for the smaragdus jadeite, the moment you learned that the jadeite was made into earrings you immediately guessed that either they were fake or that the man who rented them out didn't care about customer safety. While she had deduced as such just as fast, the same can't be true of other people, the traveler and Paimon are proof of this, so the fact that you can so easily keep up with her is rather impressive.

_______________________________________________

I'm sorry about the two exceptions to the headcanon topic, I just really felt like this format fit them and I couldn't think of enough details for them to warrant their own post, but I hope you enjoyed this. Also, feel free to use any of these, generally make posts like these when I can't flesh an idea out properly, so these are free game.

[riversofmars]

Another little Sunday treat, for the prompt "Rainy Day" <3

Sunshine After The Rain

Summary: Liv has been summoning her courage to tell Helen about her romantic feelings for her. With the help of their neighbours Ron and Tony, she had made plans for a picnic in Hyde Park, going to great lengths with preparations. When the day finally comes, she finds that fickle April weather has turned on her. Gone is the sunshine form the past few days and it is pouring, leaving the med-tech disappointed and disheartened.

“Ughhh why is it like this?” Liv leaned onto the windowsill in the living room of 107 Bakerstreet, craning her neck to assess the weather outside. It was horribly dark even though it was nearly 9am, and it was pouring. There was no break in the clouds in sight, no trace of the sunshine they had been enjoying the previous few days. The weather had turned and with it, the med-tech's enthusiasm and high expectations for the day. This would never work. Her heart sank.

“Because it's spring in London,” Helen chuckled, making her way into the room carrying two cups of tea. She seemed bemused with her best friend's observation as Liv kept her eyes fixed outside, willing the clouds to blow over.

“Isn't spring meant to be the time where everything starts blooming, people are happy, the long winter is over-” she huffed, disappointment slowly tipping over into annoyance.

“Have you never heard of April showers? The weather is unpredictable this time of year,” the linguist gave a mild-mannered, appeasing response as she blew onto her tea to cool it.

“So frustrating,” Liv groaned, finding herself at a complete loss. What was she to do now?

“Did you have any particular plans for today?” Helen asked, raising her eyebrows curiously and inwardly her best friend winced.

“Well, no but-” That was a lie. She did. She had made wonderful plans that involved the picnic basket she had hidden away in her room and the woman beside her. It had taken a lot of organising and sneaking around too. She’d had the help of Ron and Tony who had been brilliant, not only giving her the basket which included plates, cutlery and everything one might need, but also offering her friendly, if firm, advice.

“You have to tell her!” they had insisted. “She is smitten with you but she doesn't know what to do about it. I think her family were quite difficult about the whole subject so... It's up to you to woo her.”

“But how do I do that?” Liv had been nonplussed. While it was wonderful to hear their neighbours encourage her, get their objective opinion and dream that they might be right, she was at a loss too. And scared. “What if I get it wrong? What if I lose her…”

“You won't, silly,” Ron had told her kindly. “Fortune favours the bold.” And Tony had carried on: “How about you start small if you need to gather your confidence? How about a picnic in the park? The weather is turning brighter!”

“Now that's a lovely idea. Picnic in Hyde Park among the flowerbeds, it will be lovely.”

And it surely would have been lovely had it not been for the rain. It presented a problem in many ways. She had ordered pastries at a bakery, she had spent hours in the kitchen last night after Helen had gone to bed, chopping up fruit and even gone to a 24h supermarket for fresh cheese, orange juice, clotted cream… and all the other lovely things she could think of that she knew her best friend liked. Now, it was all sitting in the basket in her room, sure to perish if they weren't eaten soon. She had hardly slept thanks to her preparations and excitement alike, but when she had woken to pouring rain all her optimism had evaporated.

Miserably she stared out of the window, wondering if this was the universe telling her she needn't bother, trying to spare her embarrassment as Helen surely wouldn't feel those things for her…

“Liv?” The linguist’s voice broke into her gloomy, miserable thoughts.

“Hm?” Liv looked around at last and Helen offered her a warm smile that was almost enough to cheer her up. Almost.

“Off with the fairies?” she hummed, with just a trace of teasing to her tone as she took another sip of her tea. She held the other mug out to her in a gesture of conciliation and affection.

“Well, regardless of the weather, I'm gonna have to go out,” Liv huffed, ducking her head as she made for the door. She didn't want to have to explain where she was going, but she knew she was due to pick up her order in half an hour.

“What?” Helen blinked, confused, turning around to follow.

“Just something I need to sort out,” Liv muttered, pulling her coat off the hook in the corridor. She could hardly leave the pastries to sit in the bakery. She had paid for them now and it would be plain rude not to pick them up. Perhaps a butter croissant would somehow lessen her disappointment.

“Don't you at least want your cup of tea?” the linguist expression turned from confused to almost sad. She cradled both mugs to her chest, looking a little lost. It made Liv's heart ache, she hated to disappoint her in any way, but she couldn't very well tell her about her ill-fated plans. That would invite too many questions and she wasn’t sure she was ready to face them.

“No. Rather just get it over with. Rain doesn't look like it'll let up either,” she huffed, flipping her hood up in the hopes that it might go some way to protecting her. She wasn't hopeful, but also found she didn't really care. It would be a perfect reflection on her emotional state.

“Liv, is something wrong?” Helen pressed on, clearly concerned, but Liv just shook her head as she ducked out the door.

“No. Just don't like the rain.”

—

Picking up her pastry order did very little to improve Liv’s mood. While the baked goods themselves looked and smelled amazing, the med-tech herself was soaked through to the bone as she turned back into Bakerstreet. It hadn’t been all that far but the rain was unrelenting and her coat was just not up to the constant assault. Her hair stuck to her face, her legs were freezing in her soaked jeans and even the croissant she had selected to munch on soon turned sodden and inedible, which was a terrible waste as it tasted delicious.

By the time she reached number 107, she felt about as low as could. Her date idea was ruined and all her effort for nothing, she felt dreadful physically from the wet and cold, and was beating herself up mentally for having been so short with Helen when she had left. Adding all that to the fact they were still stranded in 21st century London, all she wanted to do was curl up in bed and hide under the duvet with her pastries until things started looking up.

She opened the door to flat 4 with little enthusiasm, but as she stepped inside, she was greeted by a lovely smell in the air. If she hadn’t known any better, she would have assumed someone was making pancakes. It surely wouldn’t be the Doctor, the place would soon be on fire if it was. No, there was only one person around here that knew how to make pancakes, and lovely they were too…

After kicking off her boots at the door, the med-tech stuck her head into the kitchen and found what she had already suspected: Helen was making pancakes. Or rather, she had. They were already plated up, two plates stacked high on the kitchen table, and now, the blonde appeared to be busying herself with making hot chocolate.

Having noticed her presence in the door frame, though silently stunned as she was, the linguist looked up and offered her a welcoming smile.

“What's all this?” Liv asked cautiously.

“You seemed so down so… I thought I'd make your favourite,” Helen answered slowly, with a slight wobble of insecurity in her voice. As she gave her a quick once over, her expression turning concerned over how soaked she was, her eyes finished on the bag she was carrying, indicating that she had been busy. Her shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were going to-” She gave an awkward gesture at the bag and the fact that her friend hadn’t yet stepped out of the doorway seemed to only increase her insecurity. She dropped her eyes, fiddling with the two mugs on the kitchen side. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep… If you're not in the mood for it, of course I-”

And just like that, Liv’s frustration was wiped away and overpowered by her guilt over how she had acted before, and how she was acting right now. Helen had made a wonderful gesture and she couldn’t allow her to think it was unwelcome.

“Oh Helen… you're just too good to be true, aren't you…” the med-tech observed with an awkward smile as she finally crossed the threshold and went to place her bag on the counter.

“I don't know about that…” the linguist smiled weakly, but her shoulders relaxed with relief.

“I do,” Liv confirmed, as she wouldn’t have her thinking otherwise.

“Yeah, well…” A hue of pink appeared on the blonde’s cheeks. She was terribly modest, not accustomed to taking compliments as the med-tech always found, and she seemed eager to move the conversation along. “Gosh, you're soaking wet… You ought to dry off,” she observed, reaching out to the collar of her coat.

“Yeah…” the brunette mumbled, momentarily overcome by her gentle gesture. As her friend peeled the collar away from her sticky skin, she ran her index finger along her chin to catch the droplets that had gathered her. Liv could have melted into the ground where she stood. The wonderful moment passed as Helen snatched her hand away, seemingly becoming self-conscious, and she turned her attention to the bag.

“What was so important that you had to go out in that weather?” she asked curiously and really, there was only one answer Liv could give.

“You,” she blurted out and her best friend looked back to her confused.

“Sorry?” She seemed sure she had misheard her but now that the med-tech had started, she felt she couldn’t stop. She had to explain herself so Helen at the very least understood how important she was to her.

“I… I had a surprise planned for you but the weather just…” Liv gave a defeated shrug as she mumbled her answer. “Guess it wasn't meant to be…” She dropped her eyes awkwardly.

“What sort of surprise?” the linguist asked, visibly surprised and the brunette gave a little huff.

“Well, you've made pancakes now…”

“Liv, tell me,” Helen insisted, growing more curious and firm. “Come on, stop sulking.”

“I'm not sulking,” Liv shot back, her mouth gaping in affront.

“Yes you are,” the blonde broke into a grin and reached out to nudge her nose. “You can be so moody, like a toddler having a strop.”

“I'm not-” the med-tech flushed, embarrassed. She couldn’t deny that she had a bit of a point. She could be rather moody… but she wasn’t about to acknowledge that.

“What's in the bag?” the linguist repeated. She could easily have reached across to check for herself but she didn’t, leaving the choice up to her best friend. “Come on, I want to know. What am I missing out on? Then maybe I'll be in a bad mood too,” she joked to try and encourage her. Her ploy was certainly working as Liv couldn’t help a little smile of her own.

“You could never be. You're such a ray of sunshine…” she observed affectionately.

“Am I?” Helen’s surprise at that was genuine and made the med-tech’s heart twinge. Her best friend’s self-esteem was not what it ought to be, and it saddened her.

“Yes,” she reaffirmed, allowing no space for debate on the matter.

The linguist’s response was both surprising and endearing as she posed cautiously:

“Then maybe the rain shouldn't matter quite so much?”

Did the rain really matter? When Liv was with Helen nothing much seemed to matter at all. The pleasure of her company was all she desired.

“I… I wanted to have a picnic in Hyde Park,” she revealed at last and pulled over the bag to present to her. “I'd gotten everything ready, I even ordered pastries at that fancy bakery but…” She gave a little sigh, even as Helen gaped at the lovely baked goods. “We can't really be doing that now… but I had to pick them up anyway…”

“A-a picnic?” The linguist’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Yeah… thought it would be nice… the weather was so nice the last couple of days…” Liv continued, trying her best not to let her annoyance get the best of her again. There was nothing to be done about it now.

“Oh Liv…” Helen smiled an emotional smile, she seemed visibly touched which offered the brunette a small measure of hope.

“Sorry…” she sighed and Helen tilted her head a little.

“What are you apologising for?” she asked and her friend gave a little shrug.

“Dunno. Just…”

Silence fell between them and in the end it was Helen who broke it.

“Well we could… you've got them now… no reason not to eat them,” she suggested cautiously, with a hopeful smile. “And the pancakes.”

“Suppose so…” Liv chuckled, giving up the last of her defences. What was she delaying for anyway? If she was perfectly honest, she was getting quite hungry too. She had been looking forward to the food so much and this wasn’t helped by the lovely smell of Helen’s cooking.

“What else did you prepare?” the blonde questioned, growing in confidence following her agreement. Her smile widened into a grin of excitement and Liv softened even more. Her excitement was simply infectious.

“It'll all go off anyway…” she admitted. “It’s just in my room.”

Peeling off her coat on the way, the med-tech went to her bedroom to fetch the picnic basket at her friend’s gentle insistence. When she returned with it, the linguist called to her from the living room where she found her spreading out a blanket on the floor.

“What are you doing?” Liv asked bewildered as she set down the basket. While the ‘what’ was actually pretty obvious, it was more the ‘why’ she was concerned with. Did she really want to sit on the floor when they could be at a table?

“We're having a picnic,” the blonde gave back, sounding utterly sure of herself as she pushed the sofa back a little for more room.

“In the middle of the living room?” the med-tech continued, a smile tugging at the edges of her mouth. There was something utterly endearing about watching her best friend at work. She was adding pillows and blankets too before turning to examine the basket.

“We can put the fire on too, it'll be cosy,” she commented. Rain continued to pound against the window panes as she looked up to her, realising that she was still in her sodden clothes. “Get changed and I'll set this up?” she suggested, as she knelt down on the blanket and pulled the basket towards herself. “I don’t want you to catch your death.”

“Alright…” Liv agreed, knowing she had a point. She didn’t have the mind to argue as excitement grabbed hold of her. They were having their date after all. While she wasn’t sure she would be brave enough to tell her of the feelings she harboured for her, she would most certainly enjoy the alone time with her. Good food and good company… She couldn’t wait and hurried her steps.

In the end the med-tech required very little time. Back in dry jeans, t-shirt and jumper, she felt more like herself. It wasn’t exactly her Sunday best but her best friend had seen her wearing all sorts so she didn’t think it mattered. If she wasn’t attracted to her now a more flattering outfit wouldn’t change that.

After a quick stop in the bathroom to towel-dry her hair a little, she returned to the living room, finding Helen and the blanket with various bits of food and drink spread around her. Liv’s heart jumped into her throat. She could only hope she would like the things she had picked out. She had taken such care to select things that she knew she liked. She was just about to announce her return when she reached the doorway but stalled. Immediately she could tell that something wasn’t right. While she couldn’t see her friend’s face, not while she was facing away from the door, she caught the sound of a soft sob.

A wave of dread crashed over Liv. What had she gotten wrong? She hadn’t even been there, she hadn’t had an opportunity to mess things up, had she? And yet, her friend’s body looked to be shaking, a hand raised to cover her mouth and muffle any sound that would pass her lips. What remained was sniffling in the silence.

“Helen… what's wrong?” Liv spoke softly, as she couldn’t watch. She had to find out what was going on and she took a tentative step inside the room as Helen jumped.

“What? Oh nothing, I-” The linguist looked around quickly, offering a weak smile, tears unmistakable in her eyes and she turned away again to wipe them. She cleared her throat, quickly carrying on: “This is just so lovely.” Her words sounded sincere and yet didn’t match up with what the med-tech was seeing.

“Then why are you upset?” she asked gently, slowly making her way over.

“I… You went to such effort…” Helen mumbled in return, letting her eyes wander across the display of food in front of her. She had found the red rose too… It had been Ron and Tony’s idea really, a hint should she chicken out of saying anything, so the blonde might at least suspect. Liv’s stomach turned but she knelt down as well. She knew she had to face the music if she wanted to get to the bottom of why the linguist was so upset.

“I'm sorry if I overstepped…” the brunette offered with a sad smile. “I just thought it would be nice… for the both of us… spend some time together that's not running away from monsters or dealing with the Doctor… I know it's a bit silly but…” She turned self-conscious, her eyes falling to her hands that fumbled with the edge of her sleeve.

“It's not silly…” Helen gave back, looking up to her at last. Her eyes were swimming with tears, a couple of stray ones making their way down her cheeks, but she didn’t look sad, that wasn’t it. Her expression was wistful more than sorrowful. A smile came to her lips and she looked happy despite her tears. “It's the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”

“It can't be,” Liv countered, feeling herself flushing. “This is nothing.” The picnic was but a small start. If she had the privilege of dating her properly, there were all manner of things she would do for her, things they could do together and places she could take her. Particularly once the TARDIS was fixed…

“It's not nothing,” Helen interjected with a little sniffle. “You got all my favourite things-”

“Well of course, this was meant for you.” The med-tech frowned, confused as to why she seemed so surprised by that fact. She had made it quite clear that this had been all about her, hadn’t she?

“No-one ever took the time to get to know me well enough to learn what those were…” the blonde whispered, visibly overcome and the penny dropped for Liv too. It was just another example of how the linguist’s past experiences had mistreated her. To think nobody had ever taken the time to treat her in such a manner… the very thought made the med-tech’s blood boil. Her friend was the most wonderful person she had ever met. She worshipped the ground she walked on and would do whatever she could to make her happy.

“I know you. Of course I pay attention,” Liv said, reaching across for her hand. “You're my best friend.” That was not all she wanted to be to her, but now seemed hardly the right time. Not when Helen was upset and all she wanted to do was make up for the failings of her life.

At that, Helen instantly retreated, pulling her hand away.

“Yeah… I guess I am,” she mumbled, sounding sadder now than she had for the entirety of the conversation, leaving Liv all the more confused and concerned. “Sorry, I- Let me get you that hot chocolate. I’m sure you’re cold still…” She made to get up but quickly the med-tech grabbed her arm to stop her.

“I’m sorry, I didn't mean to upset you,” she said quickly, colour draining from her face. She wasn’t sure where she had gone wrong but she would try to make up for it anyway.

“You haven't,” Helen mumbled, relaxing a little. “You're just… too good to be true too,” she gave her another sad smile, a couple of stray tears dripping onto her cheeks. Instinctively Liv reached out and cradled her face in her hands, catching her tears and brushing them away with unending care. Her eyes fell to her lips, even as the blonde leaned into her touch, exhaling a breath, all too grateful for her gentle attention. It felt so wonderful to caress her cheeks like this, feel the softness of her skin underneath her fingertips…

Impulsively, stupidly, Liv leaned in and kissed her with gentle yet firm pressure, tasting the salt of her tears. It was only Helen’s sharp gasp of surprise that brought back the reality of what she was doing.

Quickly the med-tech pulled back, mortified with herself.

“I- I'm sorry. I- Oh God-” she stuttered, flushing bright red. That was the last thing she should have done under the circumstances. What had possessed her?! She started rambling, anything to cover the awkwardness of the moment- “I knew I shouldn’t have listened to Ron and Tony when they insisted you- Of course you wouldn't want me to-”

Helen brought an abrupt, explosive end to her explanations, as she pulled her back towards her by the back of her head and captured her lips with her own. It was a slow, intense kiss as her fingers threaded through Liv’s damp hair and the brunette’s head started spinning. Her mind was screaming with excitement but none of that would cross her lips, not when she longed to carry on kissing her.

It was Helen who pulled back at last, seemingly shocked by her own actions. Quickly she pulled her hands away from her and clasped them against her chest.

“Sorry… I-” she stuttered, going very pale, but Liv just shook her head, her heart doing somersaults.

“Don't apologise. Please. Don't take it back. I-” she pleaded, swiftly reaching for her hands again, squeezing tightly. “Let me explain how I-”

But Helen was quicker.

“I love you,” she blurted out, then - seemingly thinking it wasn’t enough - clarified: “I'm in love with you. Oh Liv-” Tears overwhelmed her once more, as though a long carried burden was lifted, leaving her relieved but fragile. Liv pulled her into her arms without delay.

“Please stop crying. I feel exactly the same way…” she mumbled, pressing kiss after kiss into her hair. “And I was going to tell you, today… if the weather had played along,” she offered a sheepish smile, casting a quick glance to the window where the weather seemed to only be getting worse. A bolt of lightning flashed across the sky. No, they were best off staying right where they were.

“I don't need a picnic in the sun,” Helen answered once she had gathered herself a little. “Any moment, anywhere with you I-”

“Same…” Liv admitted, gently stroking her cheek. “I shouldn't have been so caught up on the weather… it was just a disappointment after bigging it all up in my head…” She ran her eyes across the picnic which, while it looked lovely, seemed utterly insignificant now. She focused on Helen once more, bringing her hands to her lips to kiss. “Really…You're the sunshine of my life…”

“Likewise.”

[comradekatara]

what’s in the gaang’s youtube history 📺

aang likes videos of people doing impressive skateboard tricks, video game speedruns, heartwarming videos titled smth like "WATCH THIS TO HAVE YOUR FAITH IN HUMANITY RESTORED", unlikely animal friends, cats being silly, puppies running around, comedy sketches with high production value, and whatever else 12 year old boys watch on youtube (lego??? minecraft??? pokemon??? i .... don't actually know)

katara is addicted to youtube almost as much as she is addicted to twitter. she watches so many longass videos on social/political issues and then tweets the creators about how one hour and forty three minutes into the video they stated an opinion that she personally disagreed with, and she demands an apology. she also loves elaborate makeup tutorials that she would never even bother to attempt to replicate (but she likes to think that maybe one day if she gets invited to the met gala, she now has some looks to choose from)

sokka's youtube library is extremely eclectic. he can't stop clicking on videos titled shit like "intro to particle physics" just to watch the entire thing and be like "why did i watch this i knew all that already." but yknow. he just had to make sure. he's a big fan of chris fleming, and he's made all his friends watch "gigi the christmas snake" multiple times. he's gone down a lot of rabbitholes in his day, but his personal favorite side of youtube is the videos of chemical reactions, especially the ones that end in an explosion.

toph occasionally enjoys listening to longass video essays about obscure topics, but mostly she just listens to podcasts. she’s also partial to this one video that’s just the sound of a chainsaw revving on a 10 hour loop, and she plays it at just the right volume that her parents will be like “what’s that awful noise?” to which she innocently responds “i don’t hear anything” and they’re like “oh no you must be able to hear it, it’s so annoying” and toph’s like “are you sure? it sounds normal to me.” she tries this on katara once, but katara gets so frustrated that she just yells “oh wow didn’t realize you were blind AND deaf” and that leads them to get in a very violent brawl in which toph’s nose is nearly broken, so she decides to limit this particular gambit to the company of her parents only. 

zuko exclusively uses youtube to watch cute animal videos. otherwise, he's terrified he'll accidentally click on something that might potentially radicalize him, since he read somewhere that the algorithm was designed to do that, or worse, direct him to one of those content farm generated animations of elsa getting a c section, which is apparently also a concern. frankly, the internet scares him, and he tries to avoid it as much as possible.

suki watches npr tiny desks, kexp live, lofi hip hop anime beats to relax/study to, and best of vine compilations. anything on youtube that isn't music or shortform comedy simply does not interest her.

to boost her platform, ty lee decides to go on a reality show. she pretends to be a vapid airhead, but is actually very subtly manipulating not only the other contestants, but also the crew. she walks away from the whole experience with double the number of instagram followers (she already had a sizable amount) and a huge bag. anyway, azula goes through a phase of obsessively watching a lot of clips from. that

mai is indebted to the guy who reuploaded all the “patti reviews exotic animals” videos after they got taken down from the original channel. her favorite youtube video of all time though is nathan fielder thin watermelon. she rewatches it at least once a week

ty lee’s youtube history is just meditation playlists and also the goriest true crime stories she can find #justgirlythings <3

yue loves the artful simplicity of those animated tedx videos. they’ve led her down a lot of really interesting research rabbitholes. she promised katara she’d stop sending them to sokka though after he spent the next month telling her about nothing but eel mating habits and lesser known facts about genghis khan

iroh only uses youtube to watch recordings of tea ceremonies and isn’t even aware that there are other types of videos on the platform. ignorance is truly bliss 

jet exclusively watches videos with the word “callout” in the title. the longer and more contrived, the better

[mariacallous]

On Sept. 12, 2001, 24 hours after the 9/11 attacks, representatives of the then-19-member NATO convened to invoke Article 5 of the organization’s charter, which holds that an “armed attack” on one member “shall be considered an attack against them all.” This was the first and only time Article 5 has been put into effect. For the following two decades, NATO forces fought alongside us in Afghanistan and elsewhere.

On Saturday, former President Trump ranted against the North Atlantic Treaty Organization at a rally in Las Vegas.

“We’re paying for NATO, and we don’t get so much out of it,” he lied. “And you know, I hate to tell you this about NATO: If we ever needed their help — let’s say we were attacked — I don’t believe they’d be there. I don’t believe. I know the people. I know them. … I don’t believe they’d be there.”

Trump has long talked about NATO as if it’s some sort of obsolete club where everyone is supposed to pay dues into a common kitty, but the U.S. has been left picking up everyone’s tab. That’s not how it works. NATO’s standalone budget is about $3.5 billion, of which we pay 16%, roughly $560 million. A new aircraft carrier costs about 20 times that. All other “NATO spending” takes the form of domestic defense expenditures by individual member states. When he was president, Trump was right to pressure other countries to spend more, but now that they are spending more, he doesn’t care or credit the change.

Trump’s calumnies against NATO are offered to bolster his distortions about supporting Ukraine. In his telling, both are examples of how the United States gets ripped off by its alliances and foreign engagements. He claimed we’ve spent “$200 billion-plus” on Ukraine, while the Europeans “are in for $20 billion.”

This, too, is false. According to the Ukraine Support Tracker, the European Union has contributed more to Ukraine than the United States. We’ve committed not $200 billion-plus but about $75 billion, about half of that in military assistance. The EU total is roughly 77 billion euros, or $83 billion. In terms of share of gross domestic product, the U.S. ranks 30th for Ukraine support, just behind Ireland and Malta.

We look better if you count only military aid, for the simple reason that we have the hardware Ukraine needs; Malta, not so much. Indeed, as my American Enterprise Institute colleague Marc Thiessen notes, the important thing about our military aid — at least for domestic political purposes — is that it doesn’t take the form of giving Ukraine a blank check, as many Republicans claim. Nearly 90% of military aid dollars stay in America, disproportionately in Republican districts and states, because they’re used to purchase the weapons that go to Ukraine.

If you care about U.S. relative military superiority, supporting Ukraine has been a huge bargain — degrading Russia’s military, helping to update ours and bolstering the security of our biggest trading partner without putting American troops at risk.

While it’s always useful to point out Trump’s thumbless grasp of the facts, none of this is exactly new information for people who actually care about the facts. The problem is how little facts seem to matter these days.

Prior to Russia’s lawless invasion of Ukraine, the argument that NATO was obsolete had some superficial plausibility. But now that Russia has repeatedly signaled that it has aims beyond Ukraine, toward NATO members, those weak arguments have evaporated. Certainly, our allies believe the threat is very real.

And those aren’t the only threats on the world stage. Proxies for Iran killed three U.S. servicemen over the weekend in a drone attack in Jordan. Russia, China and Iran have grown quite chummy. Our ally Israel is in a bloody war with Hamas, an Iranian proxy that ignited the conflict on Oct. 7. In short, this is the dumbest possible time to be talking about how America shouldn’t honor its alliances and commitments.

President Biden’s critics love to argue that when it comes to Iran and China, “weakness is provocative.” They’re right. But it’s also true with Russia.

And tough talk can signal weakness, too. Trump’s denigration of NATO might sound like political “toughness” to his fans. But what Vladimir Putin and Xi Jinping hear is evidence of NATO’s weakness.

NATO, and our alliances generally, make America stronger. They allow us to project power globally at a fraction of the cost of doing so in other ways. For those who disagree, it’s worth considering why the case against NATO made by the former president has to rest on so many lies. If the facts were on Trump’s side, he’d offer some.

[logarithmicpanda]

I rarely do negative reviews, especially of books I did not finish, but @smalltownfae​ asked me for my opinion on The First Binding as a KKC fan, and I think it can be useful for other people so here it is.

TL;DR: if you loved or hated KKC, this book will probably piss you off. If you have never read KKC but love high fantasy and storytelling, it might be your next favorite book!

I stopped at the hundred pages mark (out of eight hundred) because the similarities kept jolting me out of the story. Here’s a selection of quotes that particularly gave me pause, with their KKC counterparts

“ The Waystone Inn lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts. The most obvious part was a hollow, echoing quiet, made by things that were lacking. If there had been a wind it would have sighed trough the trees, set the inn’s sign creaking on its hooks, and brushed the silence down the road like trailing autumn leaves. If there had been a crowd, even a handful of men inside the inn, they would have filled the silence with coversation and laughter, the clatter and clamour one expects from a drinking house during the dark hours of the night. If there had been music…but no, of curse there was no music. In fact there were none of these things, and so the silence remained. “

From the first chapter and the prologue, respectively. The parallel of stillness and silence and the general feel of the writing are very similar already.

"Kvothe here played the simplest song in the world and made it look like he was spinning gold out of flax," Marie said. "Then he took a real piece of music, something only a handful of folk in the whole place could play, and made it look so easy you'd think a child could blow it on a tin whistle." 

So literally the same plot device...

“They say the Lethani is a secret power. Adem keep their words inside." I made a gesture as if gathering things close to my body and hoarding them. "Then those words are like wood in a fire. This word fire makes the Adem very strong. Very fast. Skin like iron. This is why you can fight many men and win.”

Not exactly to the same effect, but magic focused on hoarding words and burning them like wood...

Do not dare hold hope that any woman could burn as brightly as the voice that sang the part of Aloine. 

Girl sings. Hero gives her a name. Eloine - Aloine.

My name is Kvothe, pronounced nearly the same as "quothe." Names are important as they tell you a great deal about a person. I've had more names than anyone has a right to. The Adem call me Maedre. Which, depending on how it's spoken, can mean The Flame, The Thunder, or The Broken Tree. "The Flame" is obvious if you've ever seen me. I have red hair, bright. If I had been born a couple of hundred years ago I would probably have been burned as a demon. I keep it short but it's unruly. When left to its own devices, it sticks up and makes me look as if I have been set afire. "The Thunder" I attribute to a strong baritone and a great deal of stage training at an early age. I've never thought of "The Broken Tree" as very significant. Although in retrospect, I suppose it could be considered at least partially prophetic. My first mentor called me E'lir because I was clever and I knew it. My first real lover called me Dulator because she liked the sound of it. I have been called Shadicar, Lightfinger, and Six-String. I have been called Kvothe the Bloodless, Kvothe the Arcane, and Kvothe Kingkiller. I have earned those names. Bought and paid for them. But I was brought up as Kvothe. My father once told me it meant "to know." I have, of course, been called many other things. Most of them uncouth, although very few were unearned. I have stolen princesses back from sleeping barrow kings. I burned down the town of Trebon. I have spent the night with Felurian and left with both my sanity and my life. I was expelled from the University at a younger age than most people are allowed in. I tread paths by moonlight that others fear to speak of during day. I have talked to Gods, loved women, and written songs that make the minstrels weep. You may have heard of me.

That whole introduction of the hero, down to the events themselves, is extremely similar

Ravel is a term my people find particularly offensive. Its use makes light of the systematic slaughter of thousands of Ruh. 

Race of storytellers treated like shit and called ravels.

IN CONCLUSION:

None of these things on its own would have bothered me too much, to be honest. But side by side, every couple pages? Add to that the mythology dump early on, and I felt past caring already.

The worst part is, when it is doing its own thing, it feels like a good book, with some excellent quotes and fresh concepts. But it keeps hammering me over the head with KKC things that feel too close to references to be coincidences, and I’m over it lol

[tteokggukk]

golden hour → jjk

» pairing: photographer! jungkook x reader

» genre: smut, established relationship, pwp

» words: 3.4k

» warnings: explicit sexual content, explicit language, some dirty talk, fingering, oral (m/f receiving), deepthroating, cunnilingus, penetration, teasing, edging-ish, jungkook is kind of??? a dom, jungkook loves kissing, use of ‘babe’ and ‘baby’ as pet names, tattooed and long haired jungkook (which isn’t rlly a warning but just in case??), and a boudoir shoot.

» summary: when your boyfriend jungkook is stressed out over a certain project, you decide to comfort him and help him de-stress by taking a mini-photoshoot during golden hour. what you don’t expect is how he turns your innocent suggestion into a boudoir shoot.

» a/n: hello omg this is the first time i’m ever posting smut and all i wanna say is i tried. this is like a practice shot or smth but i swear i’ll learn askldlaskdjl feel free to leave comments and suggestions :’> AhAHAGSGHA

permanent taglist: this is the first time i’m posting with a permanent taglist and i’m tagging just in case but since this is a smut please let me know if you’re not comfortable with smut works so i can only tag you in non-smut ones, thank you! @mochisjoon​ @boraength @rageyoudamnednerd

Sundays were one of your favorite days of the week. It was your chance to unwind and ease yourself before preparing for work again the next day. It was also one of the days where you could spend your time just lying down on your bed with your longtime boyfriend, Jungkook, where you felt the safest in his arms. Today though, Jungkook was focused on his desk retouching pictures he took for a client.

It was a quiet and peaceful day in your apartment. You didn’t have much to do, so you decided to catch up on some reading while lying in bed partnered with a cup of tea on the side table. You loved how you respected each other enough in your relationship that neither of you minded or intervened the other when working on your separate interests. You could do your own thing while he would do his, so it was nice to still have that sense of freedom and independence. The two of you spent the whole day focused on your separate agendas.

Neither of you realized how the sun was beginning set, slowly dimming the room into a warm tint of orange.

From time to time, Jungkook would ask for your opinion on the shots he was fixing and you’d give him your honest opinion (you’ve picked up photography terms and technicalities that you learned from him when you first started dating). He was glad that you were of help, kissing your hand every time he heard your input, but you couldn’t help but notice how stressed he was over this one project. He’d make a low, grunting sound every hour and run his hands through his hair in frustration. Occasional clicking noises and sighs would slip from his mouth and it bothered you to see him like this. He was normally excited and quick when working on projects, but this one in particular was putting him at his wit’s end.

Getting up from bed, you decide to give your boyfriend some comfort in a way that you could. Placing your book aside, you walked over to him. You positioned your hands on his shoulders before applying soft, circular motions just below his nape, causing him to hum in pleasure and tilt his head back. He lets you massage him for a moment until he takes both your hands and rests them on his chest.

“I’m sorry I haven’t spent much time with you today,” he apologizes.

“Don’t be,” you tell him, “I know how important this is to you—but you seem really stressed about it.”

“The client has so many requests and they keep making changes at the last minute, I can’t really figure out what they want,” He sighs, obviously exasperated at the client he was currently handling.

“How urgent is this?” You ask.

“Not very?” He turns his ergonomic chair around to face you, pulling you close to make you sit on his lap, “I just wanted to get it done as fast as I could to leave some days for readjustments.” Of course, he was always such a perfectionist and you admired that about him.

“So why don’t you take a break? Watch some shows, lie down, or take new pictures as a “palette cleanser”,” You suggest, noticing how his eyebrows raise at the suggestion of taking pictures. Jungkook looks out the window before looking back at you, “Well it is golden hour,” he grins.

“Can I take pictures of you?” He asks with his doe eyes beaming brightly, making it impossible for you to say no to him.

“Sure, why not?” You agreed and got up while he followed after you with his personal camera.

Thanks to the huge window in your apartment, the warm color of the setting sun hit all the right spots in your room. The bed was well lit, so you two decided to hold the mini-shoot on it. You knew exactly what kind of poses Jungkook liked in pictures, it made your heart flutter every time he praised you for doing so well. His favorite shots were always the ones where you modeled in them—you were his muse, after all, and there hasn’t been a single shot of you that left him dissatisfied.

It didn’t take long before you were fully immersed in switching to different poses for him, you hadn’t noticed how the strap of your silk camisole began sliding off your left shoulder. Jungkook, however, took a clear notice on the simple slip of your clothing, rousing an interesting idea in his head.

You watched as Jungkook scanned the pictures, not quite expecting him to ask, “Do you wanna try a boudoir shoot?”

Your eyes grow wide at the question, unsure with what kindled the suggestion. His eyes meet yours and he mistakenly reads the expression on your face for hesitance, “It’s okay if you don’t want to, babe. It was just an idea.”

“No, I do,” You said quickly. You weren’t nervous at all, and honestly you were determined to help him get his mind off the stress he’s been through the whole day—you thought you’d do just about anything, “I was just wondering why you suddenly thought of doing that kind of shoot,” you laughed.

“So should I take these off then?” you held onto the hem of your camisole, making Jungkook smile and nod in response.

As you slowly began to undress, Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at you while you disposed of the clothes that covered every outline of your body. After all these years, seeing your body always felt like the first time for him—it was something he never got tired of, his amazement at your figure never faded.

“Maybe I should change into lingerie,” You muttered, realizing you were only wearing your plain, nude-colored underwear. Jungkook stopped you before you got out of bed.

“I think you look perfect in those,” He says, a fond look in his eyes. You slowly moved back and sat down again, a blush creeping on your cheeks. “Psh,” was all you could say, making him chuckle at how you were flustered by the comment.

Taking boudoir shoots wasn’t exactly your forte, so Jungkook had to guide and direct you on what you had to do with your body. He’d gently move your arms and feet to his desired angle, and though it was awkward at first, you eventually got the hang of it.

You were definitely a quick learner, and Jungkook noticed that. Through the lens, he started seeing how you got comfortable with the intimate poses and how your facial expressions could easily capture the mood. He couldn’t help but take a moment to stare at your eyes before his gaze trailed down to your pink lips, where you lasciviously bit on your finger. He had to clear his throat before he finally took the picture.

The light coming from the windows did more than just reflect the golden hour in his shots. From your perspective, the lighting made it impossible not to notice the bulge forming in his grey sweatpants, which cast a shadow near his upper thigh. You bite your lip at the sight, your heart beginning to thump rapidly at the thoughts racing in your head.

A coy smile tugs upon your lips as you position yourself in a new pose, bringing yourself to your knees. Jungkook watches as you slowly remove the straps of your bra from your shoulders, leaving yourself to hold the cups in place. He gulps nervously and tries to hide it with a cough, but this only urges you to do more.

You continue teasing him by curving your back and gripping on the sheets, causing him to let out a frustratingly deep breath. This goes on for a couple more minutes with several other poses until he couldn’t take it anymore—with the simple movement of holding your hair up and exposing your nape, which you knew drove him wild, he brings the camera down from his face.

“You’re getting too good at this, aren’t you?”

His voice was much deeper now than it was previously as he begins to walk over to the bed. “Am I?” You ask, pretending not to notice his eyes that were now a shade darker along with the outline of his length protruding from his sweats, “Are we done? Did the pictures come out good?”

“Mhm,” he hums, sitting down on the edge of the bed to face you, leaning into your neck to whisper into your ear, “Really good.”

“Then I take it you’ll probably get back to work now?” You asked, leaning backwards to look at him, “You seem de-stressed enough. Good luck, babe!” You playfully peck his cheek before turning away from him as a joke, bringing the straps of your bra back to your shoulders.

“Not quite,” He says sternly, “Let me help you with that.”

With one swift movement, Jungkook immediately unhooks your bra as a gasp leaves your lips. He watches you clutch onto it, trying to cover your nearly exposed chest. You turn back to face him only to be met by Jungkook’s soft lips crashing into yours. He starts leaning into you, leaving you lying down on the bed with your bra still (but only barely) covering your chest. He was towering over you now, a smirk forming on his lips as he notices your cheeks turning into a darker shade of red.

“Nice try, you think I don’t know what you’re doing?” he says darkly while raising a brow. You bit your lip and felt the urge to start kissing him, but the way he leaned back clearly meant he had other plans.

“Such a good model, aren’t you?” He moves back and takes your right leg, peppering your inner thigh with kisses as he steadily moves up towards your stomach while his long hair tickled your skin. He then moves up to your chest until finally reaching your collarbone, “Is this what you had in mind to relieve my stress?”

He starts planting soft kisses on your neck, gradually turning them into harsh sucking and leaving several marks on your skin. A small moan escapes your lips as he finds that sweet spot on your neck, the sound making him smirk in confidence. His left hand is pressed onto the mattress for support while the other cupped your face.

When his mouth leaves your neck, he looks into your eyes for a brief moment and gently takes your chin to pull you in for a kiss. His soft lips that move against yours so perfectly partnered with the musky scent of his perfume were enough for your mind to go in a haze. Your hands move up to his neck before slowly moving up to gently tug on his hair, making him hum in pleasure. Jungkook’s tongue begins to glide over your lips, and you take this as a cue to open your mouth and give him access to your tongue.

He breaks away for a moment to take his shirt off, the sight of his bare torso making you crave him even more. The way his muscles flexed certainly did things to you, you wished you had the ability to see his gorgeous back while simultaneously looking at his toned abdomen.

He notices the small tug on your lips after removing his shirt and sends you a teasing smile, “Well aren’t you enjoying this?”

“Always,” you sighed, making him giggle. He leans forward once again for your lips to meet. Softly, you bite on his lower lip before he makes his way towards your cheek, then down towards your neck, and finally to your chest where your bra laid atop your breasts. He takes the garment between his teeth and takes it with his hand, tossing it over to a nearby chair where it perfectly hung over the backrest. You don’t know why, but that act alone caused your arousal pool even more—you had to resist gasping out loud in amazement.

His tongue begins to skillfully swirl over your nipple and your breath hitches at the action. His tattooed hand takes your other breast and cups it, lightly kneading and squeezing it.

“Mmmh, that feels good,” You moan softly while your fingers run through the strands of his hair. Once his lips leave your breast, he gives you a quick kiss before moving down to your thighs where he slightly spreads them apart.

“Oh, babe,” he purrs while playing with the waistband of your underwear, “This wet already?” He continues to lightly peck your inner thighs while his hand rubs on your pussy that was still covered by your undergarment. Your breathing had turned heavy as you waited for his next move, but he seemed to enjoy teasing you like this.

“Jungkook, please...” Your voice almost came out as whisper.

His eyes look up to meet yours, a “Please what, baby?”

“Please me,” you whined.

“Please you? And what do you want me to do?” He smirks, rubbing the garter of your underwear between his fingers as if he were about to pull them down any second.

“Take it off,” you begged.

“These?” Slowly, he begins to pull them down and slides them off your thighs. You push yourself up to watch as he takes your underwear in his hands, tossing them to the same chair where he threw your bra. The outline of his cock appeared to be even more protrusive now, and you couldn’t help but slightly salivate at the sight.

He slips his fingers into your folds and brushes them past your clit while quiet whimpers begin to fall from your mouth. Jungkook leans forward as he starts to gradually rub in circles, his eyes focused on yours as he watches the expressions on your face with amusement.

“Ah—fuck,” You fail to bite back a moan as Jungkook begins to pick up the pace, stroking his fingers up and down exactly the way you wanted him to. “Just like that,” you pant.

“Is this what you want?” He whispers into your ear before pulling his hand away, “Or should I get back to work and stop?”

“God, Jungkook, no—!” You cried.

“No, what?” He growls, “Use your words, ___.”

“No, don’t get back to work,” You whined.

“Then what should I do?” His hands continue to slide through your arousal while waiting for your answer.

“Touch me, please.”

He chuckles darkly at your impatience.

“So needy.”

He begins to run his digits along your clit causing your breathing to become unsteady as louder pants escaped your lips. Seeing the veins on his arm while his tattooed fingers worked their way onto your sweet spot turned you on greatly, you found yourself moaning out every profanity you knew. Jungkook slips two of his long fingers into your pussy, causing you to cry his name out loud followed by another curse. He licks his lips at the arousing sound of you blurting out vulgar words while his fingers curled inside you.

“This is what you wanted, babe? For me to fuck you with my fingers, huh?” He inserts a third finger in and you feel the burn from the stretch, hissing at the slight pain. He quickly moves down and positions himself to face your arousal, using his free hand to further spread your legs apart.

“Such a pretty little cunt,” He stares hungrily and runs his tongue across your folds, “Tastes so good.”

Your hands grab onto Jungkook’s soft hair while he continues lapping you up, his tongue skillfully flicking over and sucking on your clit. The motion of his fingers slipping in and out of you paired with the movement of his tongue sent your mind in a frenzy—you could hear just how wet you were and felt your pussy pulsating at his touch.

He continues to delve his tongue into you, humming in delight as he takes in every bit of your arousal. The vibrations from his mouth felt even more stimulating, and though you wanted to feel much more of him than just his mouth, the high you felt was too much for you to be able to push him off.

“W-want you,” You stuttered. Jungkook looks up at you and breathes out a deep laugh, another smirk forming on his lips.

“Me? Where do you want me, babe?” He positions himself above you to plant kisses along your neck which made you smile. Your hands trail all over his torso before sliding down underneath his sweatpants, feeling the length of his cock in your hands. Jungkook lets out a low grunt and crashes his lips back into your neck.

“Want you inside me,” You hum, rubbing his cock underneath his sweats. Jungkook’s breathing begins to turn ragged at your touch, but he manages to pull himself back and take his pants off.

“Kneel, baby,” He instructs, holding your hands to pull you up. You kneel in front of him and watch as he begins to stroke himself, biting your lip at the sight. “Show me how much you want me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Pushing his hand off himself, you wrap your lips around the red tip of his cock. His hand grabs a fistful of your hair as you bob your head up and down his length, your hand pumping the rest of his size. Low groans begin to emit from his mouth while your tongue swirled around the head, and to show him just how much you wanted him to be inside you, you dared yourself to take him deep inside your throat.

“F-fuck, ___, you’re so good,” He breathes out in shock at how much of him you’re taking in. Slight tears form in your eyes as his grip on your hair tightens, momentarily gagging you.

Jungkook’s hands finally frees the strands of your hair as he leans forward into you, pushing you back onto the mattress. Prying your legs apart, he takes his cock in his hand and teases your entrance, brushing the tip up on your clit and causing heat to form in your stomach.

“Please, Jungkook,” you whined, unable to wait any longer. Another smile tugs on his lips at your eagerness and before you knew it, you were gripping on the sheets while Jungkook sank deep into you. The movement of his hips thrusting into you has your back arching and your toes curling while you moaned his name in pleasure.

Jungkook continues to pick up the pace. You could feel the way his cock moved against your walls, hitting the exact spot that sent lightning through your veins while your fingernails dug deeper into his shoulders—the groans and heavy breathing coming from your boyfriend turning you on even more. His eyes meet yours for a quick second and for a moment he thinks about wanting to capture you just like this.

“So beautiful,” he pants, “And so, so needy.”

It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself reaching your climax, and it’s brought even closer by the sudden circular motion of Jungkook’s digits rubbing against your clit. A strangled moan comes out of you as he continues to thrust even deeper while his fingers added pressure on your bud. Your body starts to shake as your orgasm ripples through you, causing you to scream his name out for who knows how loud. Your walls clench around him as he continues to fuck you through your high and fills you up, followed by the sound of his own moans. His hips begin to slow down and he eventually pulls out of you.

Jungkook’s lips crash into yours before lying down next to you, pulling you in so you were lying down on his arm while covering the two of you with a blanket. Neither of you noticed how dark the sky had turned and how the only light coming into the apartment were from the streetlights outside. The only sound in the apartment came from the cars outside and you two catching your breaths.

“You’re amazing,” he sighs, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” You grin and curl your legs with his, “Are you good, now? Feeling better enough to retouch pictures?”

“Oh, definitely,” Jungkook chuckles, “But those aren’t urgent.”

“I thought you wanted to get it done as fast as you could?” You laughed.

“I know, but it’s already dark out, so I should be spending time with you,” he says and plants a kiss on your temple. From underneath the sheets, you could feel his hands travelling to squeeze your inner thigh just as he moves closer into your ear before whispering in a low, inviting tone.

“…and one round isn’t enough, don’t you think?”

↣ all rights reserved © 2020 tteokggukk. please do not repost. translations/modifications are not allowed.

[reidjumpers]

Here Comes the Sun: Blue and Pink

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warning/Includes: mention of eating, foods.

Series Summary: A journey of going through parenthood with Spencer.

Chapter Summary: In which you find the gender of your baby

Note: dad!spencer is a dear concept to me. I try to make sure all of the chapter could be read as a stand alone, but if you squint you can tell there's a string of connections to previous chapters. Enjoy!

previous chapter, next chapter, series masterlist

“What do you think about a gender reveal party?”

You stopped in your tracks as Penelope thought out loud. You rolled your chair to face her, and immediately your face scrunched up as you noticed the content displayed on her screen. It wasn’t work, or anything tech related that sometimes made your head a little fuzzy, it was a mood board filled with gender reveal party ideas.

Throughout your pregnancy, you have found yourself burrowed in Penelope’s lair more often than not. She was more than welcoming, all happy to have someone accompany her in her safe space. She even made an effort to make you feel comfortable, go all board to put all soft and fuzzy things to soothe your aching back and swollen feet. You had been crying for thirty minutes straight when she first presented it to you.

You liked it here a lot. The room is always at the right temperature that didn’t leave you shivering or grumpy with heat. But most of all, it smells really nice, and as much as you’d love to be in your desk and your own element, you couldn’t handle the wafting smell of everyone’s perfume in the air. You once lashed out at Morgan for having the audacity to wear his perfume that he had been wearing for years, and then proceed to cry for an hour profusely apologizing while he laughed his ass off.

“Gender reveal?” you hummed, not knowing what you feel with the idea. Your hand absentmindedly made its way to your bump, now more visible than ever, and you’re both delighted and terrified about it.

“Look at this!” Penelope eagerly made a gesture towards her computer screen. She scrolled slowly through all the well-put mood boards. You cocked an eyebrow at it, knowing fully she probably had spent weeks planning before even asking your opinion. “It’s cute, isn’t it? All fuzzy, blue and pink! So many cakes and happiness radiating from it all.”

“How long have you been planning for all of these, Pen?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she muttered, uncharacteristically quiet.

“Three weeks? Four weeks?”

“Ugh!” she grunted, a pout appearing on her lips as she sent you a heatless glare. You pressed your lips together to bit back a triumph smile, proud of your achievement to be able to crack her up. “Fine! Three weeks.”

You snorted a laugh, “Thought so.”

“I hate profilers,” Penelope huffed. She pressed a key on her keyboard to reveal more pictures of her mood board. “So? What do you think?”

“I don’t know, I have to talk about it with Spencer.”

“Talk about what?” a voice appeared behind you nearly startled you to death. You whipped your head towards the source of sound, smiling when you caught the sight of your husband standing in the doorway.

Spencer quietly made his way to you, pressing a chaste kiss on your hairline as he gently placed your lunch on the desk. It had been a routine in the past four months that he would make his way to Penelope’s office during lunchtime, bringing food for three of you and he joined you and Penelope devouring lunch in her office.

“Lovely Boy Wonder! You always have the most perfect timing,” Penelope basically beamed at the sight of Spencer. He furrowed his eyebrows confusedly, but from years of befriending her, Spencer had learned not to question too many things about her. “What do you think about a gender reveal party?”

“Gender reveal party?” Spencer pulled his designated chair, the one that Penelope provided just for him to eat lunches. He scooted his chair close to you, hand absentmindedly finding its way to yours.

“You heard me.”

“I don’t know…” Spencer muttered, his thumb gently stroking your knuckles. He eyed the mood board displayed proudly on Penelope’s screen carefully, examining each picture. “Sounds like a lot of work.”

Penelope gasped, “Dr. Reid! I am honestly offended that you didn’t consider Penelope Garcia will handle everything and you and Lady Reid don’t have to lift a single finger!”

Now that caught your attention. “We don’t have to lift a single finger?”

“All you have to do is sit down and the next thing you know, we’re all huddled together in a happy space full of love.”

You glanced towards Spencer who shared the same look with yours. He shrugged and a small smile settled on his face, entrusting the decision fully into your hand. You pucker your lips, weighing all the pros and cons about throwing a party.

“Come on!” Penelope whined. “We see horror and gore almost every day. We need a sweet reminder of everything good in the world. It’s nice to have something good to look forward to.”

You glanced at Spencer once again who subtly nodded. “Okay. Make it small and private.”

“Yes!” Penelope squealed, startled both you and Spencer. “I love you both so much.”

***

The whole idea of preparing a gender reveal party alone made you tired, but one trip for your check up changed everything. Penelope joined you and Spencer for your routine check up, tearing up when the sound of your baby’s heartbeat echoed. At this point you would have thought you’d get used to hearing their heartbeat, but it had never lost its magic.

Penelope practically vibrated with excitement and squealing when the doctor slyly slid your ultrasound photo and the gender of the baby to her, wrapped in a cute envelope. Spencer tried to take a peek, but Penelope was quick to swat him away.

“Do you think we’re having a boy or a girl?” Spencer thought out loud. You glanced up from your book to meet him staring at you, a solemn expression painted on his face.

“Can’t wait until the weekend, can you?” you teased, eyes fell back into the string of words in your book again.

You felt his hand rubbing your feet, his fingers dutifully untangle all the tangled knots that made you sore. You let out a satisfied sigh, shifting slightly on your seat to positioned your feet better on his lap. You really started to think you were probably the luckiest pregnant wife in the whole wide world with a husband like him.

Spencer sighed. “I think we’re having a boy.”

“You think?” you turned the page on your book, already feeling your focus shifting fully into the conversation now. “I’d say we’re having a girl.”

“I’ll tell you what, if we turn out to have a girl, I’ll buy you that handbag you’ve been eyeing on in the past two weeks. And if we turn out to have a boy, you’ll tell me how you cheat on every single UNO game we have.”

You snorted a laugh. Spencer must have noticed you stopped reading minutes ago, for the way he wasn’t unfazed when you lowered down your book and stared at him with a questioning look. He shot you a challenging smirk, with one eyebrow shot up into his hairline.

“Spencer Reid, are you really betting on our children?” you hit his arm playfully with your book. He feigned a pain, frowning as he rubbed the sore spot where you hit him. “I love you, but there is no way in hell I’ll tell you how I play UNO.”

“Ha! So you admit you do cheat!”

“No I didn’t! I never said that!”

“Your words do imply otherwise. So you do cheat!”

“I don’t cheat! I am just really good at what I do!”

Spencer scrunched his nose, not exactly buying your words. “Morgan and Emily also think you do cheat, hon.”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of their name. Of course they would conspire with your husband about your amazing ability of kicking everyone’s asses in UNO. You pulled your book back into your line of sight, tried your best to pick up where you left off. “Just accept the fact that UNO and Mario Kart is my expertise, babe. And a magician never reveals their secret.”

Spencer squinted his eyes at you for using his words against him. You lifted your book up slightly to conceal your growing smile, doing your best to ignore his burning stares. Spencer shifted slightly on his seat, his hand ghosted just above your ankle.

“I beat you in Mario Kart already,” Spencer said smugly. His voice was soft, and if it wasn’t so quiet, you were sure you would miss it.

“It was one time!” you groaned. “Once, babe, once.”

Spencer laughed. “You’re just bitter I beat you up with Baby Peach in Rainbow Road.”

You sighed through your nose, pouting as he rubbed about your defeat a year ago that you were still slightly bitter about to your face. You had no idea how he managed to beat you in Mario Kart using Baby Peach out of all things, in Rainbow Road out of any places.

“Honestly, how did you do that?”

Spencer beamed up at the question. You regret asking once your eyes caught the look on his face almost immediately, already knowing the answer he was about to say before it left his mouth. He leaned closer, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “A magician never reveals their secret, sweetheart.”

***

“Garcia is one amazing crazy bitch, isn’t she?” Emily nudged your shoulder. She took a sip towards her drink, her eyes scanning through the room. “How the hell she managed to take care of this party alone, I have no idea.”

Penelope had outdone herself. But then again, she always managed to break her own records after records breezly like it was nothing. Rossi was more than happy to provide his backyard to host the small party. Penelope managed to turn it into the most colorful and cutest gender reveal venue you’ve ever seen.

You just snorted, turned around to steal a slice of cake from Emily’s hand. She groaned at you, but didn’t do a thing as you shove it into your mouth. “Once she has a goal, she’ll do everything in her power to achieve that one goal, Em. You know that.”

Emily grinned, raising her glass slightly. “Do you think it’s a girl or a boy?”

You hummed. “Honestly? I don’t know. But something tells me it’s a girl.”

“Good,” Emily grinned. She jerked her chin towards the direction where Spencer was sitting together with Jack and Henry, a big amused smile on his face as he showcased his newest magic trick. “JJ already has two boys, Hotch has Jack, I think it’ll be nice to have a cute little girl into our family.”

Your eyes settled on Spencer once again. A loud squeal and delighted laughter rang throughout the walls as Spencer pulled a string of cards from Jack’s ear. “We’ll see.”

The party had been, much to your delight, a beautiful one. It was a spur moment of excitement and laughter, Penelope had made sure to make everyone comfortable and happy. The small game she had creatively come out with had been nothing but fun. You nearly fell from your chair laughing as you watch Morgan and Hotch doing their best to put a pen into a bottle blindfolded.

Everyone was here for one thing, and you watched the atmosphere shift from excitement to anticipation and suspense as JJ placed the cake into the table almost immediately. You bite your lip, somehow nervous at the prospect of knowing the gender of your unborn baby and reveal it in front of your friends and families.

Spencer wasn’t doing any better either, he was visibly jittery. You squeezed his hand gently once. Two times. Three times. Sending him all the wordless immense love you hoard for him, and a reminder that you were there with him. A small smile appeared on his face and he squeezed your hand a little firmer than you did, before he lifted it up to plant a soft kiss against your knuckle.

“Okay! When I reach three, you’ll cut the cake!” Penelope instructed. “If anyone would love to record this very magical moment, I advise your camera is ready by now.”

You chuckled, glancing up from the blue and pink cake in front of you. You saw Rossi already recorded the whole thing.

“One!”

You gently gripped the knife, feeling Spencer’s hand covered your hand warmly. He sent you a nervous smile as he adjusted his hands, his fingers settled in between yours seamlessly.

“Two!”

Spencer gently guided your hand to place the knife just right above the cake. You held your breath, feeling your heart trumped inside your chest loudly.

“Three!”

Spencer a little too eagerly cut the cake, almost forgot that he squeezed your hand underneath his a little too tight. A soft gasp escaped your lips as you finally saw the inside of the cake, and Spencer was stopped in his track as he gawked at the cake.

“It’s a girl…” Spencer whispered, like he couldn’t believe what he saw. He blinked and took a sharp inhale, feeling the reality settling in a lot better. “It’s a girl!” He then pulled you into a chaste kiss, his lips pressing into yours raked with love and happiness that you couldn’t help but to smile.

“A girl!” Derek hollered from his spot, already made his way to steal Spencer away from your embrace and pulled him into a hug. Everyone followed not so long after, and you could feel Emily pulled you into a hug, followed by JJ, and then Penelope trapped you in the middle.

“Aw,” you heard Penelope cooed. You didn’t realize there were tears streaming down your face until you could feel her thumb gently wiped it away from your face. “Don’t cry!”

You just laugh, pulling your girl friends into another round of hug. Emily let out a soft chuckle, and muttered something about having a new member to your sacred girl’s night out. You didn’t say anything, but feeling a smile growing on your lips at the thought of having a little girl following you in tow during your night out.

=======================================

series tag list:

@measure-in-pain @wooya1224 @reidemandweep @manuosorioh @jswessie187 @starrfruit

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

not allowed, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader; established relationship yoongi x reader

summary: The love of your life, BTS’s very own Min Yoongi, tells you he has a gift for you. But he also says you’re not allowed to refuse. What’s that supposed to mean, hm? Surely not... wild hot sex with the Golden Maknae himself?

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship with Yoongi (takes place after his surgery); smut (fem reader, m-receiving oral, dirty talk, penetrative sex, doggy, spanking); idol!BTS; it’s self-indulgent and I’m a little ashamed but it’s too late now, whoops

--

Just... just looking through the Twitter tag couldn't hurt, right?

You scrolled through the pictures slowly. They performed really well these past two days. Received all the awards they deserved, because BTS were the best. Still, it depressed you seeing the empty space where Min Yoongi was supposed to be. 

But that was because Yoongi was beside you, propped up in the bed with pillows, scrolling on his phone with his right hand. Occasionally, he would lower it to use both hands, since his left arm was still in the sling. You two had watched the MMA and MAMA 2020 performances together. You knew he wanted to be there. You could hear it in his voice when he called in. 

Oh, that’s right, were you supposed to be in his apartment?

No. 

But you didn't care about rules and neither did Yoongi. 

Were you dating? Well, as much as dating could be when it came to a relationship with the most loved 'lil meow meow' in the whole world. 

Yoongi always gave you this look of disapproval when you called him that, but you would always just smile and say it again, slower. 

It was the kind of thing that simply fell into place and neither of you wanted to convolute it with too many other opinions or thoughts. What happened, happened. You weren't going to make yourself known or ask for impossible things. When he told you that he was getting surgery for his left shoulder and wouldn’t have schedules for a long while, you cashed in on all those sick hours you accumulated at work, stating you had to take care of a loved one. 

No one knew your loved one was Min Yoongi. And that's way you two liked it. 

Yoongi leaned over to the long straw of the water bottle tucked in the crook of your arm. 

"Staring at our maknae again?"

You stiffened. "I'm looking at all their pictures, Yoongi. Just happened to stop on Jungkook."

He took a short sip.

"Mmm-hmm."

A few seconds past. You stared at Jungkook’s intense dark eyes, his long hair flying about from dancing, his clenched jaw as he focused. Looking sinful in all white, tempting you to save the photos.

"You're not changing the screen."

"I'm admiring the stylists' hard work."

Yoongi hummed. "You're a bad liar."

You would have thrown your phone at him if it wasn't the special edition BTS S20+, complete with a Shooky phone case. You swiped past, seeing the image of Jungkook lifting Jimin in the Black Swan performance.

"I should tell him."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Sick of me?"

"No." He pointed to his left arm. "Can't take care of you either."

"I don't want to be the reason you need more months of physical therapy. I'm fine."

Yoongi placed his phone in his lap and placed his right arm around your shoulders. "We could risk it," he purred. 

You chuckled. "I don't think that's a good idea." You leaned your head against his shoulder. "I want to see you preform again."

"But you still want to bang Jungkookie."

A muscle in your eyebrow twitched. "I'm only looking at the pictures, Yoongi. You know you're the only one for me."

"You wouldn't try? Even if he begged you?"

You turned to Yoongi and his crafty smirk. "No." You stared at his lips and leaned in, kissing him lightly. You smiled against them. "I love you, Yoongi." Your smile turned into a smirk. "I worked too hard to sneak in here. Even outsmarted Dispatch. You can't get rid of me so easily."

Yoongi smiled back. He leaned against the headboard.

"What if I was okay with it?”

You blinked at him. "Why would you be okay with it?”

Yoongi shrugged. "You're mine, no matter what, no? Not even Jungkook's dick is going to change that."

"... Hah?"

Yoongi held up his hand, long fingers spread out. He ticked them down as he spoke. "Pros: my woman gets to satisfy her little crush, gets the fucking she wants, and will be happy."

You felt your ears burn. "Yoongi..."

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, wicked smile on his lips. "Cons... none."

You rolled your eyes. "You'd be pissed off."

He tilted his head. "What do I have to be pissed off for? Are you saying there's a reason I should be worried?"

You frowned. "No. Even if it did happen, which it won't, you will always be number one."

Yoongi nodded. "There you go."

You let out a puff of air. "I don't think Jungkook would agree anyway. And I wouldn't do it, because it's not the right thing to do."

"Who decided it's wrong?"

You made a face. "I don't know... society?"

"And we trust that societal rules are just and moral?"

"I mean, no..."

-

Washing your hair was always a pain in the ass.

You had to blow-dry it upside down, add five products at different stages, brush it super carefully with a special brush to avoid breakage, collect the fallen hair and throw it out, blah blah blah.

You shrugged on one of Yoongi's shirts after the shower – the black-and-white checkered one he wore during his VLive. Running your hand through your hair, you finally picked up your phone. Yoongi was at physical therapy, so he wouldn't be back for a while. You had some messages from him, probably before he had to put his phone away.

I sent you a gift. It will arrive today. You are not allowed to refuse.

You raised your eyebrows at that. 

P.S. Merry early Christmas. 

Was it jewelry? You pursed your lips. You always told Yoongi not to buy you things. Firstly, because you felt bad you could never reciprocate the amount he spent. You didn't make the money he made, after all. And secondly, you weren't that interested in owning expensive things. The only expensive items you loved were technology-based. Yoongi and you bonded over the newest Samsung products and always kept an eye on the latest tech. 

Maybe that was it? Maybe you had to collect a package. You mused, brushing your teeth. You were going to borrow Yoongi's pants, but you had to go hunt for some. After the teeth brushing. 

You spat and gargled some water.

The front door opened. 

You frowned. Was physical therapy canceled? Yoongi didn't have people come in and clean the apartment, because he didn't want anyone to find you. You weren't supposed to be here and no one knew you were here – except for his members, of course. But they didn't have the key, so it had to be Yoongi. You waited, in case there was someone outside. You didn't want them to hear your voice. The door closed and relocked.

You spat and rinsed out your mouth before turning off the light and going to the hallway.

"Yoongi, was physical therapy can–"

The head of long black hair lifted and turned around. He was in the middle of taking off his black sneakers. He pulled down his black face mask.

It was not Yoongi. 

"Hey, noona."

Abort.

You backed up. 

"J-J-Jungkook?"

The mischievous maknae grinned. 

"I'm the gift."

Your eyes widened. You whipped your phone to your face, nearly dropping it, juggling it for two seconds before slapping it between your palms and rereading Yoongi's messages. Rereading them way too many times because what? What, what, WHAT?

"D-don't you have p-practice?" Why were you stuttering? You never stuttered. But you never had that conversation with Yoongi until a couple days ago either. 

"I have some time, but I have to go back, yeah," Jungkook replied, far too cheerfully for how flustered you were. He was probably trying not to laugh at you. 

"How did you get in? And what do you mean, y-you're the...?"

You felt like your world was spinning. Did Jeon Jungkook just announce he was the gift? What? You're not allowed to refuse. Of course, you were going to refuse! This was Min Yoongi you were in love with! The cutest in the entire world! 

Jungkook brushed back part of his long hair and tucked it behind his ear, revealing half of his forehead and his silver hoops. Smirk on his pink lips, the mole underneath his lower lip winking at you. Skin tan and glowing in the hallway light.

...

Okay, yes, Jeon Jungkook was very handsome, but it didn't matter because–

"Hyung and I had a talk. He gave me the key," Jungkook said, dangling it. 

"Hahaha, why would be do that?" you laughed nervously, still crab-walking backwards because maybe if you just fused with the wall then you were be spared from those penetrating dark brown eyes.

Jungkook stepped into the apartment, following you. “I was surprised too.” He smiled somewhat apologetically. “I guess he overheard me telling Taehyung that I would totally fuck you if you weren’t hyung’s girlfriend.”

You blinked rapidly. “P-pardon?”

Jungkook held up his hands. Oh dear. His pretty, large hands that reminded you of Yoongi’s, but his right hand was tattooed. “But I wasn’t going to do anything though. Promise.” His eyes shifted upwards and then he looked back at you, his rueful expression turning into one of slyness. Shit. “Well, until Yoongi-hyung asked me to, that is.”

You stumbled in the doorframe of the bedroom. To be honest, you kept backing up because Jungkook advancing on you was making you uneasy, hot, and bothered. With emphasis on the latter two. You still couldn’t believe Yoongi would do this to you. This was Yoongi! Mild-mannered, sweetie with swagger, SUGA of BTS!

Then you had a thought.

You were always very good at teasing Yoongi. Either to annoy him or sexually in public situations. You could imagine Yoongi’s smirking face now. Knowing he got the one-up on you. Knowing he’d finally shocked you.

You’re not allowed to refuse.

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. A hot shiver went up your spine. Jungkook was right in front of you. Black parka, black jeans. Jungkook unzipped the parka, shrugging out of it. Black dress shirt. You knew Jungkook did not like wearing button-ups. Why was he wearing it? He unbuttoned the first one, revealing his collarbone. Then the second one. Open-mouthed smirk completed with his tongue between his teeth, dark eyes on your shaking form.

The maknae was going to fucking striptease you?

You held a hand up. “Hold on a second.”

Jungkook’s fingertips paused above the next button.

“You’re doing this… for fun?”

Jungkook tilted his head. “No. Not really for fun.” His voice was low, deep. His eyes trailed down your body, then back up to your face, lingering all over you. You swallowed. “I’m doing this because this is the only chance I’ll get.”

“What if I say no?”

Jungkook lowered his hand. “Hyung said you weren’t allowed to refuse.” His voice was softer now, almost pouting. Ouch. It actually pained you. You wanted to give in to him just like that. You loved Yoongi with all your heart, but the maknae’s charms definitely worked on you. They worked on everyone. Everyone loved Jungkook and wanted to give him everything.

“Jungkook,” you breathed, trying to reorient yourself, trying to find the right words. “I’m not saying I’m not interested. I definitely am.” He observed you carefully as you groped for the right words. “But this is a little crazy. And… you could get anyone.”

“I couldn’t get you.”

You slowly, slowly made eye contact with him. Jungkook took a step towards you. You didn’t move, transfixed by his chocolate eyes.

“The way you slowly fell in love with Yoongi-hyung,” he whispered, getting closer and closer. “You didn’t even notice. You still don’t notice. The way I stare at you, you and the beautiful shape of your eyes.” His finger came up and traced your eyes, rooting you in place. “Your cute nose. The shape of your lips.” His fingertip brushed against your lower lip. “So full. I watch you kiss him, wishing it was me.” He caressed your cheek. “The dimples that appear when you smile. So cruel.”

Jungkook’s breathing shallowed. His eyes flickered downwards to your hands, still clutching your phone. He reached for it and took it from you. Threw it onto the bed. Then his hands wrapped around yours, clutching them tight. You stopped breathing. Jungkook’s voice dropped several octaves.

“I watch your hands. Touching him, resting on his thigh, tracing up, palming him right in front of us.”

“I didn’t… think anyone would notice.”

Jungkook leaned in even more, still holding your hands tightly, as if they were going to disappear. You could smell his clean scent, like fresh laundry.

“I always notice,” he murmured. “Whenever you’re there, I can’t help but have my eyes on you. I couldn’t touch, but I could look. I thought that was all I could have.”

Jungkook let go of you. Hand dancing up your neck, cupping your cheek. Tilted his head, eyelashes lowering. Breath against your lips. Eyes pleading you, waiting for the heartbreak.

“Please let me kiss you.”

You’re not allowed to refuse.

You pressed your lips against Jungkook’s, eyes closing. It was impossible to say no. He was sweet and soft. You could feel his nerves and his fear in his kiss, not trying to ask for more, not wanting to ask for too much. It was you who hooked an arm around his neck, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. Right, wrong? That didn’t matter right now. The only thing you cared about right now was taking Jungkook’s fear away.

You pulled him onto the bed, arms around his neck, mumbling his name against his lips. His breathing hitched, hands circling your waist, holding onto you.

“Noona…”

“Call me by name, Jungkook.”

He gulped, shaking his head. “I can’t.” He gnawed on his lip anxiously. You smiled, and took his hands, placing them by the buttons of his shirt.

“Weren’t you in the middle of giving me a show?” you teased. “You’re great at putting on a show.”

Jungkook’s lips curved into a smile. “Oh yeah?”

You settled down into the bed, looking up at him from in between his thighs. You could tell Jungkook was still nervous, but there was something else too. His mischief was creeping back into his sparkling eyes. You cocked an eyebrow, smirking. He undid another button. And another. Carefully, playfully pulling the fabric apart, revealing a little of his skin at a time.

“Hyung told me you like staring at my pictures.”

You shrugged, licking your lips. “They’re nice photos.”

“Were you satisfied by just looking at pictures?” he purred, already reaching lower, lower. You could see the contours of his muscular torso, the top of his abs. Ugh, Jungkook was so attractive. Scratch that, so fucking hot. He reached the bottom of his shirt and placed two fingers under your chin, pushing it back up to his face.

“My eyes are up here.”

His fingers under your chin made you realize how hard you were breathing.

“Jungkook.”

He tilted his head at you, long hair covering part of his face.

Yoongi’s words came back to you. My woman gets to satisfy her little crush. At the time, you thought those words were referring to your crush in Jungkook. But perhaps it was the other way around. Maybe Yoongi was referring to you satisfying Jungkook.

“Don’t hold back.”

And then you got up from the bed, grabbing the collar of his dress shirt and yanking them down Jungkook’s shoulders, kissing him again, but harder this time, tongue sliding into his mouth and thrusting into it, taking his breath away. Jungkook’s eyes went wide, gasping against your tongue, struggling to get out of his sleeves before he scrambled for the buttons on your shirt, moaning as you sucked on his tongue, gripping his upper arms.

“N-noona…”

“Call me by name or nothing at all,” you growled dangerously.

His dark eyes bored into you, daring you. You nipped at his lower lip, grinning.

“You think you’re the only one who’s horny here?”

Your hands danced around his arms, reaching around him, and your nails scratched him down his broad back, hissing as he moaned, tipping his head back, Adam’s apple shaking. Fuck, it felt so good. It felt so fucking good to drag your nails down that back, seeing Jungkook lose some control, falling more and more into the moment. You leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him, shuddering as his hard body was pressed against you and your half-open shirt.

“I want it all,” you breathed. “I’m so greedy, but I want it all, Jungkook. Give it to me.” Voice dropping, inhaling his delicious scent. “Please.”

He growled deep in his chest and grabbed the bottom of your shirt, yanking up and revealing your bra clasp, undoing it easily. Pushed you back, swiftly pulling your shirt and bra off together, tossing it aside to the floor.

“Fuck, your tits are as pretty as I thought they would be.”

And then Jungkook’s mouth was on you, furiously kissing down your neck, licking your collarbones, biting your shoulder, his hands roughly squeezing your breasts. You moaned, your nipples pressed against his thumbs, pinching them against the side of his hand. His lips travelled down, down and then they latched around your nipple, flicking it with his tongue. Your hands flew up into his hair, gripping it tightly.

“Fuck, they even taste good,” he whined. “You taste so fucking good.”

Your back arched as he began to suck, running your hands through his hair, whimpering his name, telling him how good he was, how nice it felt, lost in the feeling of his tongue and his strong arms around your waist. He switched to the other nipple, saliva dripping. Licking it all over and then breathing on it with his hot breath. Your entire body trembled in his arms from the sensation.

“I’m drooling; that’s how fucking good you taste,” Jungkook mumbled, sucking hard and tight, dark eyes on you as you cried out softly, holding onto his head. Your fingers curled into his long locks, grasping them tightly. He raised his eyebrow, but you began to rock back and forth into his mouth, tugging your nipple with his lips. Jungkook’s fingers dug into you, erotic groans vibrating in his throat as you fucked his face with your tits.

Wetness soaked your panties, the scent of your sex getting stronger and stronger.

Jungkook removed his lips, sucking in a tight breath. Your name slid out of his mouth in a tight hiss, no honorifics. You felt your pussy throb hearing your name come from his lips, saturated with desire. You grinned.

“Took you long enough, Jungkookie.”

He chuckled, grabbing your hips and shoving them up into his jean-covered crotch. You gasped. You could feel his erection straining against the thick fabric, grinding against your soaked panties. Fuck, you couldn’t stop staring at Jungkook, him and his sharp jawline and his beautiful eyes and his playful smirk on his damn lips, infuriating and arousing you.

“You’re so fucking irresistible,” you whispered, rolling your hips into him hard. It was his turn to gasp, his turn to shudder at your movements. The way you could turn him from smug confidence to those submissive doe eyes was turning you on way too much.

You wanted to ruin him and be ruined by him.

You grabbed him by the shoulders and pushed him onto the bed. He yelped as you slid down, nails racking down his torso, whimpering in your wake. The front of his jeans was wet with your juices. You undid the button, zipping them down.

“How are you going to explain this?” you smirked, gesturing down to the giant wet sport at the front of his pants.

“They’re black,” Jungkook panted. “It’ll be fine.”

You laughed, pulling them down his legs. Jungkook’s hand flew down, reaching into his back pocket, pulling out a condom. You tilted your head.

“Only one?”

He looked down at you, startled. “W-well… I don’t know if you want more….”

You raised an eyebrow and reached over to the nightstand, opening it and taking out the whole damn box.

“Er… I cannot cum that many times. In one sitting, anyway.”

“Ah, well, let’s just see then.”

You peeled his jeans and boxer briefs off, licking your lips as your hungry eyes landed on his cock. Half-hard, pre-cum glistening at the tip. Jungkook swallowed nervously, but you crawled on top of him, immediately licking a fat stripe down his entire length. You moaned with him, feeling the blood rushing to his cock, pulsing against your lips. You hadn’t had sex in a while, trying not to tempt Yoongi or aggravate his injury. His recovery was too important to not only you, but the nation and the world. So, you kept your need to yourself, but now Jungkook’s cock was right on front of you.

And there was nothing to stop you.

You pressed your lips against his balls, licking them all over, playing with them with your tongue. Jungkook groaned above you, grabbing fistfuls of sheets as you began to suck on them, bobbing your head up and down. He was panting your name breathlessly, helpless as you pulled your head back, his balls slowly slipping out from between your lips.

You kissed up his length, tongue swirling around the head before taking him in, all the way, softly but firmly. If there was anything Yoongi’s tongue technology taught you, it was how to apply his technique to giving head, much to his surprise. You were good at extrapolation. You pressed the head into the roof of your mouth, raking it all the way to the upper part of your throat and tightening. Jungkook gasped, eyelids fluttering as your tongue assaulted the bottom of his cock, from the bottom of the head to the base.

You heard something between the lines of, “Holy fuck”, “What the hell”, and “Oh my fucking God.”

You retreated for a second, wrapped your tongue all the way around the head and teased the thin skin right where the head and length connected, repeatedly rubbing your lips over it before going all the way down again.

Now Jungkook was absolutely incomprehensible as you began to suck him off, fast and tight, lips soft compared to the vacuum of your mouth. Was it unfair? Yes, it was, giving him soft and hard, rough and wet, scraping the head against the back of your throat and choking it with your muscles. Jungkook was whimpering and cursing, his thighs flexing under you, tasting so fucking good that you were dripping between your own thighs.

You didn’t stop.

Faster and faster, holding his hips down, watching Jungkook unravel under you, hands in his long hair and slamming his head back into the pillows, covering his mouth as he screamed your name into his palm. You felt his cock spurt his cum into the back of your throat, your muscles constricting as you drank him up, your moans added vibration along his length.

The first orgasm was always the most and tasted the best. So much, coating the entire inside of your mouth, your tongue swiping around his cock to collect it all. You lapped it all up, encouraging his cock to get hard again. Smirking as you succeeded, popping your mouth off gently.

“What position do you want me in, Jungkook?” you murmured, throat a little hoarse, taking the condom and opening it, rolling it onto his cock.

He moved his palm from his mouth, panting hard, hair all over his face. His intense brown eyes locked with yours and you knew the dynamic was switched.

“On your back. Want to watch your face when I fuck you.”

You could relent, rolling onto your back, removing your soaked panties, chest heaving in anticipation as Jungkook got up, towering over you. His hands gripped your hips, adjusting you to the correct angle. You could play the other part, with one small caveat. His eyes found yours, glaring at you.

“Wipe that smirk off your face.”

“Make me.”

Jungkook thrust into you, hard, and you kept the smirk on your face as he forcefully stretched you out, pushing your limits.

“Hurts?” he taunted.

You licked your lips. “It’s not good unless it hurts.”

The slight irritation that flashed in his eyes spurred you on. You tightened around his cock, exhaling with a hiss. Fitting him to you, bringing out the dominance in him. Jungkook gritted his teeth and slammed his hips into yours. You had the audacity to chuckle.

“Did you really want me that bad, Jungkook?” you teased. “Or were they only pretty words? Are you a tiger or just a cute little bunny?”

Jungkook snarled low in his chest.

Then he began to fuck you, lifting your legs onto his shoulders and pressing down, smacking your ass with his hips. The position made you tighter, gravity making him pound you harder, forcing you to feel all of him as drove his rock-hard cock into you. Your hands flew up, one pressed against the headboard, the other clutching a pillow for dear life, eyes squeezing shut at the fullness and harshness.

“A-ah, fuck, yes,” you gasped. “So fucking good…”

Jungkook brought his face close to yours, hitting you deeper and just as hard. “Where’s your smirk now? Can’t give me one when you’re being punished by this cock?”

Your heart jerked in your chest at his dirty words, becoming even wetter with the dangerous edge to his voice.

“Listen to you, fucking dripping down my thighs with how wet you are for me,” Jungkook hissed, inhaling sharply as you throbbed hard around him. He groaned, clenching his jaw. “Fuck, I can’t help myself, I just have to fuck you like an animal.”

You snickered dryly, jerking your hips up to meet his. Not saying anything, letting your pussy do the talking because you were so close to orgasm that you roughly massaged his entire length, throwing your head back and moaning as you came around him. The squelching sounds between your connected hips got louder, drenching the air with the scent of sex and lust.

Jungkook sank his teeth into his lower lip, grimacing. “Fucking unfair how good you feel,” he ground out, squeezing his eyes shut, ramming his hips into you, muscles in his arms and shoulders tense. “Can’t even last, fuck.”

He crashed his hips into yours and growled your name in his throat, cock smacking against your walls as he came, swelling the condom full. You whimpered in ecstasy, back arching, clenching around his cock.

“Yes, Jungkook, oh, yeeees…”

It wasn’t enough.

Neither of you had had enough.

Jungkook gripped the end of the condom and pulled out, hissing at the sensitivity as he took it off. You tossed him a spare towel from the nightstand drawer and he cleaned himself, gasping.

“Hands and knees.”

You rolled over, flinging the box of condoms at him, and he caught it, dark eyes glinting.

“Spread that pussy for me.”

You reached back and planted your hands on each ass cheek pulling your wet slit open. Jungkook hissed and you could hear skin on skin of him jacking himself off to get hard again. An idea popped into your head.

You flexed your vaginal muscles, opening and closing your hole for him.

“Fuck,” he breathed. “You’re so damn sexy it’s illegal.”

You heard him get onto his knees. The sound of a condom being ripped open. His groan as he fitted the condom over his aching cock. His strong hands gripped your hips, the head rubbing against your entrance.

“Don’t know how long I can last,” he murmured. “I’m just going to go as hard and as fast as I can.”

“Do it, Jungkook,” you panted. “Make me feel you for days.”

He whimpered at your words and sank into you. Both of you moaning, your hands clutching the sheets, his fingertips bruising your skin, imprints of lust. Jungkook was pure, glorious power that threatened to overtake you, his cock throbbing and digging into your walls as he fucked you hard, muscular thighs slapping into yours. The poor bed could barely take it, but neither of you noticed, lost in the feeling of being filled and doing the filling.

His hand came down on your ass, a sharp, harsh sound that echoed off the walls and made your pussy clench. It barely hurt. You had felt worse before.

“You like that?” he panted.

“Fuck yes I do,” you gasped hotly. “Spank my ass, Jungkook.”

He did, thrusting into you and slapping you repeatedly, making your ass jiggle. You squeezed him each time, now rolling your hips back into him, arching your back as you came with a satisfied sigh. Your skin stung, your pussy was pulsating with abuse, and Jungkook’s cock hit all your deepest spots.

“Fuck, Jungkook, you’re so fucking good at fucking me,” you breathed, feeling him wind you up again.

He couldn’t even reply, only loudly moaning through the convulsions of your pussy radiating up and down his length. Good thing the walls were pretty soundproof, because it was a goddamn porno in the bedroom at the moment. It was obscenely lewd with the wet slapping of his hips into yours.

“So close, so close, squeeze me, fuck, choke my damn dick,” Jungkook rambled in between breaths, hissing as you did as you were told, gripping him every time he slammed into you. He came with a half-scream, half-moan of your name, whining at the sensitivity as you pulsed around him, leaking down his thighs and yours. It smelled so strongly of sex that you weren’t sure how you were supposed to clean this up before Yoongi came home.

Your phone buzzed loudly on the bed.

You grunted, clawing for it as Jungkook remained inside you, softening but refusing to leave your warmth. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his face into your back.

You checked your messages. From Yoongi.

Your gift needs to get his ass to practice before he gets yelled at.

“Jungkook, you’re gonna be late.”

He groaned in annoyance, squeezing you tighter. Another message popped up.

Tell him there’s plenty of time before I fully recover. If he works hard and does a good job, maybe after I recover too.

You poked Jungkook. He lifted his head, pouting, eyes changing to excitement when he read the message.

-

part ii “You’re not allowed to leave until your noona is satisfied.”

--

masterpost

[deniigi]

Please have some Skywalker Babies + Uncle Rex.

----

Title: skittles

Summary: Padme dies, but Anakin doesn't turn and as a result ends up with two little ones who are, naturally, adopted by the 501st--well, Leia is. Luke keeps getting stolen by a filthy thief.

------

Rex has the twins for now. He has never felt terror like this before. He can’t stop checking over his shoulders for threats to their teeny tiny persons.

In his humble opinion, it should be illegal for humans to be born this small. He ran it past Ahsoka recently and she agreed, but she also provided intelligence that the twins’ size was not necessarily average for their species, either.

The other brothers helped him investigate this. They all gathered round and put the holonet searches on the projector so that they didn’t have to smash buckets over a datapad screen to be educated. Their search for ‘newborn natborn human baby’ was rewarded with images upon images of reddened tubies with big, round bellies and curled up limbs.

They did a new search for ‘2 weeks, natborn human baby’ and were rewarded with even more pictures, to which they held the twins up next to and found them wanting. The twins’ proportions were all wrong, their limbs were too skinny, their faces pinched. The babies on the holonet didn’t have hair, but their baby girl did.

The conclusion was that the research was inconclusive. Further, it was interrupted by the resident thief coming in to take his chances. Cody told them later, upon returning their baby boy, that they were better than this. Kenobi wasn’t slick. They needed to stop letting their guards now.

He said all this while ignoring the way the baby boy burrowed into the side of his throat and made smacking noises.

Such a strong man, that Cody. He is, unfortunately, not available now even though Rex has both twins and a heart attack waiting to happen.

The Thief is nearby. Rex can sense him. He heads back the way he came.

 --

The baby girl, who has a name, but Anakin is too heartbroken to speak it, fists her hands at Rex and shakes them as if to threaten him into compliance. He does not know how to help her understand that he has not taken the blanket off her face out of malice, but rather to keep her from suffocating. She is angry with him regardless. She is often angry with him and endlessly crying when he does not put her exactly where she wants to be exactly when she wants it.

The thief calls her a princess, and so everyone else has started doing the same in lieu of her name. The child is bound to grow up thinking her name itself is ‘Princess’ at this rate. Ahsoka has been trying out different titles for her, but she doesn’t respond to them in the same way.

For all that the princess is royalty through and through, the baby boy is thoroughly a commoner. Catching him awake is a miracle. Part of that is because his waking hours are spent with the Thief, since Kenobi has decided, for some mysterious reason, that this child is his favorite of all in existence. He will not be separated from this child and when he is, he gets crafty in his attempts to get him back.

The princess does not like Kenobi. At all, period. He touches her and she screams and reaches her stubby hands for Rex. If Rex is not available to be screamed for, she will wail until her father comes to stuff her in his tunic.

Anakin is fine to hold the princess, but he cannot look upon the baby boy, even to feed him. He looks so much like his mother. It is a struggle for everyone—except Kenobi. Rex wonders aloud to Ahsoka if Kenobi will raise the boy on his own and a moment of silence fills the canteen.

Ahsoka throws herself from the room and goes sprinting for the masters’ quarters.

 --

 The twins are tested for Force Sensitivity and it becomes abundantly clear why Kenobi continues hoard the baby boy against all sense and wisdom. He is described by the jedi as a ‘sun’ in the Force. The princess too, but her presence in the Force blends in with her father’s until she is gazed upon in Rex’s Force-empty grip.

Only then is she, too, declared a star.

Twin stars, they are called.

‘Kenobi, put that down,’ the boy is named. ‘Kenobi, give that back,’ is his middle one.

The first time Rex sees the baby boy awake, he is startled by how blue his eyes are. His sister’s are dark, but his are light like water at the base of a waterfall. He makes a little sound and turns his heavy head to the side to blink at Rex’s forearm.

He is the older of the two, but the Princess is already overtaking him in weight. Kenobi has been scolded for this. In return, he locks everyone out of his quarters.

 --

 The twins are two months old when they stop being blinky-maggots and turn into smiley ones. Anakin cannot put the princess down or she will scream until she is blue in the face. As such their dedicated General can be found with his arms full, slowly banging his head against the nearest hard object.

He calls her ‘Leia.’ Princess Leia.

The baby boy is ‘Luke.’ Just Luke.

Anakin spends his time these days bouncing Leia and on the hunt for his son. He walks like a zombie towards Kenobi’s door and plasters his back against it. He slides down and tries desperately not to fall asleep at the bottom.

He will not let Rex take the princess when he’s in this state. He wants only for Kenobi to open the door so that he can fall back onto his floor and demand his son. Kenobi never gives him his son back. There is no longer any question that baby Luke is Kenobi’s child. The fact that he’s been produced by Anakin and Padme is a footnote in the broader history being made here.

Kenobi will, however, take Princess Leia, too, if left unsupervised. She still hates him—more than ever, really, but he doesn’t mind. He likes to lay the twins out together so that Leia’s jerky fussing will ruin Luke’s sleep cycles.

Kenobi is a man with no respect for the law in these parts. More jedi masters have to step in to get him under control. Master Koon takes the most pity on Anakin and gives him both of his children. The masters and the clones watch him stagger up with both babies and drunkenly return to their quarters.

A note is made to check on all three of them in fifteen minutes.

 --

 The twins, at 6 months old, have developed even more distinct personalities and hair. So much hair. Ahsoka puts Leia’s hair in pigtails and Leia will scream if anyone tries to adjust them or if she feels that they are falling out of shape.

Rex’s hands were once clumsy around ring-sized rubber bands. He is now an expert. He is such an expert that he can even make the occasional one stay in Luke’s slippery hair, which, of course, invokes an expression of betrayal in Luke that is so comical, Rex can’t see it without being brought to tears.

Luke hates him for this. He whimpers for his father—no, not that one. The good one.

These days, Kenobi is a cat who has gotten the cream.

The boy called him ‘dada’ before he gave the name to Anakin, and Kenobi nearly lost his life for it. He regrets nothing. He is technically barred from being around Luke, both by the other jedi and by Anakin specifically, but rules are things for other people in Kenobi’s world.

Anakin threatens him with bodily harm at every opportunity that he is not holding his daughter upside down.

She enjoys this. This is not just a daddy-thing to her either; she expects everyone to carry her like this. If not feet-to-the-sky, then at least draped over an arm, face-down like a sack of flour. She hums the way a cat would purr.

 --

 At nine months the babes are mobile and it is the worst thing that has happened to Anakin besides Padme’s death. They are not effectively mobile, but they are professionals at grabbing things and hauling themselves up to their chubby feet. Leia holds onto the fingers of anyone she can get and makes every brother who passes her walk her on their feet to her chosen destination.

Luke is a little slower.

He can get to his feet, but what he wants is to bounce there. If anyone tries to hold his hands, he clams up and falls down and doesn’t get up.

Anakin has begun negotiating with Leia to be more like her brother. She laughs at his face in great peels when he does this. She finds his serious expressions hilarious and wants to cuddle him anytime they appear which is great for domestic time and not so great for council or state meetings. Anakin has taken to appearing before these people with Leia latched around his ankle. Only her, though. Luke can’t bear being in the presence of so many bodies at once. He becomes overwhelmed and handles the pressure by going to sleep. Or crying.

For Kenobi, of course.

And when Kenobi is not around, they all may as well go start digging their own graves before the guilt propels them to do it anyways.

Luke is not a big crier. Anakin can’t understand him. They’ve had many conversations about telling adults when he needs things, all of which Luke elects to ignore in favor of trying to eat bugs and dig in sand.

The latter is the greatest sin that Anakin can dream of.

--

I just think that, given the opportunity, Obi-Wan would be the best grandpa ever and by best, I mean he would see his chance to have a baby and Anakin would end up chasing him around going ‘he’s MY mistake and MY responsibility, you crusty old fucker, give him back’ while Obi-Wan talks to Ahsoka about how nice the weather is.

[blu-joons]

DATING NCT A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Mark Lee

A ⇴ AFFECTION 

His favourite kind of affection was when you’d have your hands in his hair. He loved to feel your hands brush though his soft locks and pull him a little bit closer whenever you needed him to be right there for you.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING 

When the two of you first met, Mark was very awkward, he didn’t have the slightest clue of what he wanted to say to you. He could barely string a sentence together until one of the members called him out to start with at least a hello and introduce himself, and from there, you loved to tease him about it ever since.  

C ⇴ CONFESSION 

It didn’t take Mark long at all to know that you were the one that he wanted. He was far too shy to confess in person, so he sent you a demo of a song that he would have written just for you, leaving it until the very last minute to let you know how he felt. When he saw your name flash up on his phone he panicked, only to see that you’d text him and begged him to let you in and get you out of the cold to be with him.

D ⇴ DATES 

You knew just how dedicated Mark was to his work, so you’d often end up surprising him on those late nights with dates set up in the studio for you. You also knew that Mark was a terrible cook, so as long as you showed up with a bag of takeout in hand, then you were going to be safe for the night. He’d spend all night long telling you about his projects, whilst he always worried that you’d think he was bragging, all you see was a hard working and passionate guy who loved his job, and you.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE 

Mark had seen plenty of other people in love, but never himself before. He always had an idea of the type of boyfriend he’d be, and whilst he was the first to admit that he wasn’t perfect, he was determined in making his first experience of love his last too. He wanted to always be the one that would be there for you from the moment that he met you, just as long as you were willing to help him learn along the way. Day by day, he knew he was getting better at being a boyfriend, and that was all that mattered to him.

F ⇴ FIGHTING 

Neither of you were fond of arguments, but you were human too, and appreciated that they were just a part of being in a relationship. Whenever the two of you argued, one of you would always walk away before things got too bad, you were both very good at minding your tempers. Usually, after an hour or two the person who walked out would return so that the two of you could talk things through with each other and nip the problem in the bud before it became too big a hurdle for you to jump over. Major arguments were definitely a problem when the two of you were already so shy.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY 

He often joked about his family got in contact with him a lot more since you’d came into his life. He loved to tease you and let you know that you were the favourite in his family’s eyes because they got in with you so well and always asked after you whenever Mark was on a call by himself.

H ⇴ HOME 

Rooming with a manager definitely had its perks for Mark, he always gave the two of you space you needed in the dorm. Therefore he was a little reluctant to move out of the dorms and in with you, he wanted to wait a little while and see the direction his career took first, and also make sure his other members were alright.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU” 

He was the first one to say, “I love you,” when you surprised him with a Canadian Day after you heard him talking about how much he missed home. Seeing the effort that you went to in order to put a smile back on his face meant the absolute world to him, and he couldn’t repay the favour in any other way then finally letting you know that he loved you.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY 

Mark tended to doubt himself a lot, which would lead to a bit of jealousy at times. You’d often have to reassure him not to get jealous of anyone, you loved talking to people, but if you ever left his side at an event then he’d definitely begin to worry. No matter how many times you told him not to get jealous, you knew that he’d never a listen. It was a feeling that he just couldn’t get rid of, no matter how hard he wanted to. He knew he never really had a reason to get jealous, but that didn’t stop him feeling the way that he did.

K ⇴ KIDS 

If there was one thing Mark definitely saw in his future, it was kids. He very much had an ideal plan of what his life would like in years to come, he’d even picked out the perfect age to start a family. Whilst he never told you about his future plans, just in case he pressurised you, you were very much aware of just how valuable and important having a family was to him and how keen he was to start one in the future with you.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER 

One of the biggest things that Mark worried about was whether he could make you laugh or not. Any time that he didn’t see you at least with a small smile on your face would worry him. He worked hard at everything that he did, and that included making you happy. To cheer you up, he’d often search up things to do that would put the smile back on your face, and do a lot of research into your favourite cheesy jokes that he knew would get a reaction out of you each and every time. It was one thing he always made sure to do every day, knowing that if you ever had a bad day when you were around him then he’d never forgive himself.

M ⇴ MISSING 

Having spent so many years away from home, Mark never thought he’d experience the feeling of homesickness again, until you came along. He was never afraid to admit when he was struggling, but sometimes he’d forget about you in it all. There would be days sometimes when you just wouldn’t here from him because Mark didn’t know the right things to say to feel better. It’d only be when you’d message one of his members and ask them what was going on that he’d get the kick he needed to message you and sort himself out too. He still never knew the right things to say, but his members wouldn’t let him go until he said something.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES 

He often called you “sweet,” because you reminded him like the maple syrup at. You were adorable and cute, and reminded him exactly of the sweet tooth he had whenever he had maple syrup from back home.

O ⇴ OBSESSION 

Mark was obsessed with your hair, he loved to have his hands in it almost as much as he loved to feel yours messed in with his. Playing with your hair was always comforting for him.

P ⇴ PDA 

Subtle gestures were how Mark would often be affectionate in public with you. When he walked past you, he would usually kiss your cheek, or if you appeared beside him suddenly his hand would rest against your shoulder or arm just to remind himself that you were back by his side and safe.  

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS 

He would love to ask your opinion on nearly anything he did. Having your approval on anything was a huge bonus to him, but if something didn’t quite hit the spot for you, he’d refuse to let it go until you’d told him exactly where you thought he could improve or do better next time.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS 

For any occasion that the two of you celebrated, Mark would write a song for you. You knew that he loved to compose anyway, and anything that he came up with was something that you adored, but it was the pieces he wrote just for the two of you that held the biggest place in your heart. To see the effort he went to in order to find the perfect lyrics meant the world to you, and of course, he delivered each and every time.

S ⇴ SEX 

There were definitely times when things would get awkward for you both, and neither of you could do nothing more than laugh. For the best part, he would be a complete romantic, but then that shy side of Mark that you’d grown to adore would often make an appearance. You loved how caring he was during intimacy, even if he did end up making a bit of a fool of himself, just knowing you were happy was more than enough for him.

T ⇴ TEXTS 

He was definitely someone who would text, usually to let you know if something was up. You’d often end a shift to see a text from Mark to let you know that he’d be working late that night and to make sure you didn’t wait up for him.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE 

The two of you complimented each other very well, you shared a lot of traits which meant that you were able to be incredibly understanding and supportive of each other which was all that Mark ever really wanted.  

V ⇴ VACATION 

As the two of you didn’t end up finding the time to travel often, Mark would always fly your family, or his, maybe sometimes even both, in to visit the two of you instead. He knew your breaks were to spent with your families, regardless of where the two of you were in the world, just having them there with you is enough.

W ⇴ WHINING 

Mark wanted to be the perfect boyfriend, so if something didn’t quite go his way then he’d definitely whine and make his frustrations clear.

X ⇴ XXXXX 

He’d often find himself planting kisses against your skin, especially when you were nice and close. With your hands in his hair, there was no greater feeling for Mark then when you’d tug at him gently and pull him closer towards you so that you could press a soft kiss to his lips. A nervous giggle would always come after it, your kisses often left him feeling shy, but it was by far one of the things that you loved the most about him.

Y ⇴ YOU 

You were his biggest fan who supported him no matter what.

Z ⇴ ZZZ 

The two of you would always fall asleep close together. You’d often feel Mark’s hand tap against your skin as he came up with little melodies or ditties whilst he drifted off to sleep, using you as his instrument.

---

Masterlist

[teklarn]

𝔂𝓸𝓾'𝓻𝓮 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓫𝓸𝔂𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭 - 𝓴. 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾 (𝓹𝓽. 2)

 character(s): katsuki bakugou x gn!reader 

a/n: ok so i just started writing on tumblr and honestly in my opinion for my first time posting smth on this the first part did really well thank u for all the likes :) (told from second pov; e.g you, your) reblogs are greatly appreciated :))

summary: bakugou x gn!reader. they have feelings for one another but have no idea how to express them, however y/n has someone pining for their attention. 

genre: a lil bit angsty 

warnings: cursing, jealousy, mutual pining, slow burn romance, aged-up to third year, love triangle (square?), physical injuries, kirishima gets a little toxic, also shirtless bakugou (awooga), a crap ton of time skips bc i can’t write action scenes for shit, bakugou is a flirt (lowkey but yeah), mentions of blood 

word count: 2112

pt 1 , pt 3

- - - 

kirishima had broken the skin on his lower lip with how hard he was biting it. he stood in the bathroom, rinsing his mouth, ignoring the slight sting the water brought. 

y/n was currently being blasted by bakugou, and they were fighting back. 

jealousy panged in his chest. 

bakugou had never let him know about how he felt about you, however kirishima was sure he felt something for them. you and bakugou were both a jumble of prideful and longing stares towards each other from across every room. the tension was thick enough to slice through. and while kirishima would never make a move in fear of ruining the friendship between him and bakugou, as well as him and y/n, gosh it didn’t stop him from wanting to. 

he’d stood on the side, cheering you on to no end. the sports festival last year, the year before that, training exercises, he was always there. kirishima was always there. 

whenever you needed him, whenever you wanted his company. so what did bakugou have over him? sure, the blond was strong and had bigger goals than kirishima, but why should that matter? 

what did bakugou have? why would you want him more when he was never near you? never made an effort to see you to be there when you asked for help. 

it was popular belief that bakugou was a noisy idiot, but he was actually quite a quiet boy. he didn’t bother to raise his hand in class, however he always knew the answer. he spoke rarely and only made conversation with those he was close with if they were the ones to make the effort to converse with him first. 

jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. kirishima despised it. 

whenever did he begin wanting to beat bakugou at something? 

the cloud of guilt welling up in his chest was going to become unbearable, and soon everything he ever wanted to say was going to come up like word vomit at the worst possible time. 

- 

you swiped at your cheek, brushing off the crumbling dirt. your timing had been off, and their flip backwards had landed you in an awkward position. a vulnerable one. 

honestly, though, it wasn’t like it really mattered. bakugou was a bit transparent himself. he wore a smug look like a golden medal, and held back his power just enough to keep you on your feet. 

his cocky attitude was irritating and it drew you in like a moth drawn to a lamp. 

sweat was beading down your temple. the day was exceptionally hot, the sun beaming down on your back like a proud child. 

you and bakugou had been at it for a while. with anyone else, you would have quit by now. it’s not that you gave up easily. no, not ever. but fights could get boring, especially if you were just smashing away at them with your quirk and they were acting like they could take it. 

perhaps you were being cocky. 

this fight, though. this was interesting. not only because it was bakugou; also because you knew so little about him. 

it was likely he never shared anything important to anyone. he was quite introverted. 

it was interesting for another reason. 

it was hot, bakugou sweats a lot. gosh, he looked delicious without a shirt on. he had a built figure accompanied by strong arms and a broad chest. 

he’d filled out quite nicely the past few years. you hadn’t noticed until now how much he’d grown. 

“don’t get distracted.” 

your eyes snapped up from his chest to his eyes. bakugou became a blur, shooting himself off the ground and flipping once in the air before propelling himself back down. 

before you could do anything, bakugou had you pinned, one leg pinning yours, both his hands wrapped around your wrists. he’d ditched his gauntlets, leaving the metal assistants in the sweltering heat, claiming he wanted to give you an equal fight. 

he panted atop you, hands tightening. 

tokage didn’t bother to leave her dorm today, thank goodness. it had just been the three of you. you, bakugou, and kirishima. 

the red head had suspiciously vanished halfway through the fight, though.

bakugou’s crimson eyes bored into yours. neither of you blinked for a moment. perhaps just a small eternity each of you silently reveled in. 

his erratic breaths slowed, and so did yours, although you stayed the same. unmoving, faces neutral but eyes giving away long-held secrets. 

your ears flushed, and butterflies came rising up uncontrollably. you should have pushed him off. instead you gave him a wicked grin, which earned a look from him and you couldn’t tell if he was confused or annoyed. 

“your big ass forehead is blocking the bright-as-hell sun. stay like this,” you mocked, wrenching your wrists from his grasp and snaking your arms around his neck. 

his cheeks burned red. “w-what?” 

“you heard me.” 

he scoffed, tugging you off his neck and standing. “shut up, shitface. we aren’t even done yet.” he readied himself in a fighting stance once more. 

“i thought you said you wanted to stop when you won?” you brushed yourself off as you stood. 

“i know what i said. you probably weren’t even giving it your all.” 

“’course i was.” you cocked your head. “why wouldn’t i?” 

“you’re strong, damn idiot.” 

you feigned surprise, pressed a hand to your fluttering chest. “the bakugou, dynamight himself, complimenting a humble soul like me? oh, i really must be good, then.” 

“not as good as me.” his face dropped from a smile. bakugou never got enough training no matter how early or late he stayed up, or how many hours on the weekends were spent kicking a bag or sparring with friends. hard workers did all of the work there was a still wondered if they were doing enough. the number one spot wasn’t empty, but it was still reserved for dynamight. 

- 

y/n had collapsed on their bed. kirishima was itching to tell them how he felt, however he was stuck at the doorway. 

they weren’t even dressed for bed, nor were they showered. 

he settled with leaving his friend alone, and shut the door softly to find bakugou standing right behind him. 

kirishima jumped back, closing his eyes in relief. “bakugou. what the heck man?” 

“you’re creepy as shit.” 

“i- what? you were the one staring at me while i-” 

“while you peeped in on y/n?” 

“i wasn’t peeping. i walked them back after the fight and they just collapsed. you were off doing something else and you worked them too hard.” 

it wasn’t a shock that bakugou was still riled up from the duel. this boy had the energy of a mad man. 

when bakugou didn’t say anything, kirishima said once again, “you overworked them.” 

bakugou swat away the comment. “only because they’re not working hard enough.” 

kirishima raised an eyebrow. “they work hard. they’re perfectly fine.” 

“fine?” 

“they’re amazing.”

“i know that, shitty hair. you think i’m blind?” 

“everyone can make improvements at their own pace.” kirishima’s voice dropped. 

“you train with me.” 

“it’s an hour before curfew.” 

bakugou jut a thumb in the direction of the door. “so? maybe you need some more practice, too,” he joked. 

“you’re an ass, bakugou,” kirishima released a breathy chuckle. 

the two wandered off to one of the training grounds. it was open, a wide court where they’d both kicked someone else’s ass. 

the sun was just setting, a new cool breeze coming to fill the spot of the violent sun rays. 

it was routine to fight each other out of nowhere. kirishima was usually quite playful, spewing jokes once in a while and taunting his friend. 

this fight was different. his face was stone-cold. kirishima often took the defensive role, as his quirk didn’t allow him to project any direct attacks to bakugou.

it wasn’t like kirishima was angry at bakugou, but as soon as they started charging towards one another, he couldn’t hold back. his chest tightened, arms hardening and joints becoming strong and stiff. 

with one clean sweep of his arm, bakugou was backing away from kirishima, propelling himself to the edge of the arena with a small blast. he’d always been up for a challenge. kirishima was willing to give him one. 

his sudden competitive demeanor seemed to be egging on bakugou’s. the blond tongued the inside of his cheek, grunting as he shot forth, hair flying wildly. 

swiftly, kirishima dodged, just barely missing a blast. his torso wasn’t hardened, so if he’d dodged any later, his stomach would have been scorched. 

bakugou always took their fights seriously. he knew better than to underestimate the boy who had put together his very own rescue mission. 

kirishima’s opponent stumbled from the momentum. he took his chance and brought a hardened elbow down on bakugou’s back, hearing a satisfying crack. 

bakugou was crushed to the ground with the hit. his face smashed into the sandy ground. he coughed, turning over and spitting dirt to the side. 

it took a moment for him to register what he did, but kirishima was at bakugou’s side within seconds. the sun was nearly gone, a pale blue sky flickering with the first sights of stars. 

it was hard to make it out at first, but not impossible. kirishima saw the blood dripping and smeared just above bakugou’s lip. he groaned, cupping his face in both hands as he sat upright. 

“argh” bakugou gasped. “shit, kirishima. what the hell?” 

“i...i’m sorry dude, i didn’t mean to.” i wanted to, but i didn’t mean to. 

bakugou raised an eyebrow and let a smile seep through his pain. “you’re improving, though.” 

“are you alright?” kirishima traced the small cut on his lip from earlier with the tip of his tongue. 

“i’m fine, i’m fine.” bakugou swatted his hand away. he struggled to get up, refusing kirishima’s help. 

“we should head back before this gets any worse.” 

bakugou kept his large hands hovering under his chin to catch the dripping and occasional chunks of blood.  

although he wanted the duel to continue (it was finally interesting) bakugou wasn’t stubborn enough to keep going. so he nodded, once again denying kirishima’s efforts to help him out. 

- 

you were in the common area, fiddling with a rubik’s cube. it was just you, as everyone else was spending the night among each other. ashido had invited you to her dorm a while ago, but you’d denied, wanting to spend a few more giddy moments to yourself. 

the door rattled, and in came your two friends, one with furrowed brows and the other with blood drenching the front of his shirt. 

bakugou’s head was tilted up in an attempt to stop the blood from flowing down. his adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the blood trailing down the back of his throat. 

“oh my gosh,” you gasped out, racing to the bathroom. you came back with sanitary wipes in one hand and tissue in the other. “what happened?” 

“we were training,” kirishima started, taking a few tissues from the box and handing them to his friend, “and i accidentally hit him too hard.” 

“you didn’t hit me that hard. you barely did any damage!” bakugou objected. you approached him, and through his fingers, bakugou peered down at you. 

you asked him with your eyes, and he gave you silent permission to pry his arms away from his face. “are you okay?” 

“i’m just dandy,” he scoffed. 

“dude, i’m really sorry—” 

“shut the hell up kirishima. i don’t want your pity. i swear this is the only time i’ll surrender to you, you asswipe.”

you didn’t laugh, not even a chuckle. “bakugou, you need to see recovery girl.” 

“what the hell? no way. all she’s gonna do is give me one of those shitty slobbery kisses and scold me for being careless.” 

“your nose is broken,” you said gently. 

“so? can’t you fix it?” 

you raised a questioning brow. “you want me to help you?” 

“can you or can you not?” 

“i can try to set it but you’re better off going to recovery girl instead of settling with―” 

“all i need is possible. i don’t want to deal with that old lady’s shit right now.” using the tissues kirishima had stuffed into his hand, he caught the remaining blood dripping down his nose. “let’s go.” 

you were more than unsure. he would end up with a crooked nose if you made any small mistake, but he didn’t think twice as he grabbed your shoulder and led you in the direction of your dorm. 

- 

kirishima wished he hadn’t broken bakugou’s nose. not because he felt bad, though. 

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Touch it for Real, Part 9

Genre: Humor / Fluff / Angst / (Eventual) Smut 18+

Warnings: OMG they were roommates / slice of life / slow burn / mutual pining / crude humor / cursing / virgin!baek / idiots to lovers / unresolved sexual tension

Characters: Baekhyun X You/Female Reader

Description: You teach Baekhyun how to date. (Basically the Get You Alone M/V)

A/N: DO NOT YELL AT ME! It is going to be okay. 

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8  , Part 9 , Part 10

You had a secret.

For such an abstract and shapeless thing you could sure feel it sitting in there.

It was pulsing.

Your secret felt like a splinter lodged just under a single taste bud that sat in the center of your tongue. You could feel your white blood cells attacking it, trying their best to push it up and push it out, but still it clung tight with its sharp barbs lodged within your cell walls. You brushed your tongue against your teeth.

The secret did not budge.

What you knew about them though, was that secrets did not like to stay hidden forever.

Your fork slipped and clanked noisily against the ceramic plate and the bright orange carrot ball rolled across the smooth white surface nearly sliding over the edge onto the white linen. Whoever decided that your steamed vegetables needed to be shaped into spheres simply for aesthetics should be forced to come out here and explain how you were supposed to spear one of these things while also avoiding the risk of it shooting across the table and hitting your date in the face.

Ben turned out to be very nice. If you were into tall, handsome, clean-looking, and responsible guys who drove their own cars and also had things like health insurance and retirement plans. When you first saw him, you were struck by the firmness you felt when he shook your hand and smiled brightly at you. He had all of his teeth and a head full of hair. He was definitely walking around on his real legs too. He looked like the kind of guy who didn’t let the clean laundry sit in the dryer for longer than a day and changed out his toothbrush every three months. You couldn't see a single fault.

You were trying your best to make a good first impression.

Really, you were.

Well, while also keeping an eye on Baekhyun who sat beside you with his focus down on his plate as he sliced his food into bite sized bits. His control of the fork and knife felt so careful and so exacting, it neared obsession. He had not ordered the steamed vegetables. None of his food rolled.

Across from him, looking just as cute in person as her online dating profile pictures conveyed, was Mia.

Mia was fine.

She was fine.

You didn't want to get into it.

Her clothes were fine. They were exactly the kinds of clothes you had expected she would wear.

Her hair was fine.

She actually had a hairstyle that reminded you of one of the characters in an anime you watched with Baekhyun once and you wondered about the upkeep costs of that particular shade of blue that streaked through her hair. You wondered if she had to switch to blue towels and blue pillow cases or if everything in her house was just stained forever.

Baekhyun’s cheeks blushed when he shook her hand and his smile was bashful, if not a bit tight when she complimented his glasses. Your mind briefly considered the plush, expensive white towels you both owned at home and a flash of horror overcame you for a split second when you imagined those towels streaked with a blue stain from the shower.

He bought those glasses at a store. Anyone can go to the store and buy glasses. Did such a superficial compliment really warrant such a deep shade of pink on his cheeks?

You took a sip of your glass of wine and the sweet, cool liquid had a tart aftertaste that lingered on your taste buds long after you swallowed and you stabbed roughly at the runaway carrot again, impaling it with the prongs of your fork.

Finally.

“I got it,” you said out loud to yourself with a wide smile and you held your prize up in front of your face for a second. Long enough for your eyes to drift across your table to meet Ben’s and you caught the soft amused chuckle that puffed from his nose.

You’d already gotten through the backstory. Starting with the curious question from Mia about how you and Baekhyun got to know each other and you took a quick glance toward Ben as Baekhyun explained that you and he had been roommates for a couple of years. You caught the slight smile on Ben’s lips as he looked down into his water glass and you wondered if he was pleased that he already knew the answer to this question as you had been quick to tell him this important detail about your life as you chatted with him during the last week or so.

Mia on the other hand simply let her eyes drift over from Baekhyun’s face to land on yours for a moment and you offered a disarming smile by way of explanation. Not that either of you had any explaining to do. You could live with whoever you wanted to live with. It took her ten seconds to return your smile, although you didn't quite believe it, or believe that she was done with her curiosities about this topic.

You couldn't really blame her although you’d given her nothing to be suspicious about. Not in the last 20 minutes since you’d all arrived and nibbled on shared appetizers, at least.

Hell, you hadn’t even touched him all day. From before you both arrived at this fancy restaurant and just relinquished your coats to some stranger simply because she held a hand out and sported a severe enough hairdo and manic look in her eyes that was too frightening to question. From the morning when you woke up and wandered into your kitchen to make toast for one and you ignored the sound of his feet shuffling in, half-asleep to grab a yogurt from the fridge. You hadn’t even helped him style his hair; which looked stunning, by the way, with the waves and the faded brown color that absolutely looked like something the perfect boyfriend would let you play with as he laid on your lap. He hadn’t even asked for your help picking out his outfit. He’d simply done it all on his own and waited for you by the front door wearing those jeans and smelling like that familiar scent that he bought for your date with him weeks back.

When had this all become so awkward? You’d never been afraid to touch Baekhyun before but now, well, the touches hadn’t ever concealed quite so much meaning before.

By the time the entrees arrived the conversations had moved on to hobbies and interests.

Ben was a movie buff, and his favorites were mostly mainstream blockbusters of the Marvel Superhero variety. He enjoyed many of the genres of films you’d mostly seen just the previews of. His top ten contained a bit more horror than you were comfortable with. One in particular, a prolific film based on a Steven King novel, had been the kind of psychologically terrifying film that made your chest rattle and you had spent most of the second half of that movie with your face buried in Baekhyun’s arm begging him to just describe to you what was happening and to tell you when the scary parts were over.

When he asked you what your favorite movie was you hesitated for a moment before pulling the movie Forrest Gump out of basically thin air. Yes you had enjoyed the movie. Yes it was something you’d seen more than once and if it was on television right now you would sit down and watch it from start to finish and you would enjoy it. It was a respectable favorite to have. It was the kind of favorite movie you would not be embarrassed to show to your grandmother.

But it wasn’t actually your favorite and you could feel the burden of Baekhyun’s eyes as he turned his head to look at your face when you said it.

Something about naming, out loud with your own lips — the light and fun, mindless guilty pleasure of the film that was actually your favorite movie that you’d watched hundreds of times and returned to watch again and again every time you felt even a little bit upset; something about saying it out loud to this table of people with countless of hours of media consumption under their belts and opinions about things like prolific directors, production companies, hefty CGI budgets, and overused, tired tropes that absolutely should be dropped in 2021, well it just felt too vulnerable for you to say out loud.

You swallowed a sip of your wine and refused to turn your head to look at Baekhyun until you heard the sound of his throat swallowing the ice water he sipped.

When Mia changed the topic to Anime you felt Baekhyun come alive beside you and Ben slinked back in his seat a little as the two of them got to talking about something that was highly anticipated and was slated to be released next year. Rumors about artists and directors with names you could not know flew easily from their lips and Mia mentioned the name of one previous work that you recognized.

In fact you had watched the entire thing last year with Baekhyun and you remembered talking excitedly about it with Mia during one of your early text conversations.

Your face lit up and you happily joined in, excited to finally know what in the world they were talking about when you accidentally let something slip when you reminded her of what she had said about the anime before. Luckily you stopped yourself before you could admit that you had actually been the one she had been chatting with at the time.

Still, she caught it. She was very quick and sharp and you watched her face as she registered that you’d referenced something that only Baekhyun should know about. Had you just fucked up?

“Ahh, we,” you raised your index finger and waved it lightly toward where Baekhyun had stiffened up in his seat beside you, “he told me about what you said.”

There was a moment when her eyes widened and she looked at Baekhyun briefly before returning her focus to you.

“He...told you about me?” She lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, straightened her back and leaned forward with her forearms rested in front of her plate on the table. Her off-the-shoulders number dipped when she leaned in and you caught a bit of black lace and the bunch up of her impressive bosom.

She smiled a coy smile aimed across the table.

You followed the smile and your eyes reached Baekhyun. He’d been hit with the smile and had been too stunned to return it. Instead, he lifted a hand and rubbed it over the back of his neck twice before reaching the same hand forward to grab the ice water he’d been sipping all night as he pulled in a mouthful and puffed his cheeks before covering his lips with his flattened palm and swallowing noisily.

“I also mentioned you to my friend,” Mia said not quietly enough for it to be just for him and you dropped your eyes down to the half finished chicken on your plate.

She was fine. Mia was fine. She’d done absolutely nothing wrong. She was nice and she was probably a good person, but you kind of wanted her to die.

“So,” Ben interjected suddenly and you looked across the table at him as you tried to conceal the surprise on your face to find him sitting there.

You noticed he was done with his food and his plate had already been cleared away by the super attentive waitstaff.

The negligence of your own date weighed heavily on you and you angled your chest forward to face him directly for whatever questions he had for you.

He was pointing toward Baekhyun and Mia with his extended finger and raised eyebrows.

“You two work in computers?” It was a work question. He’d gathered this much from the brief introductions everyone had given and while you had failed to offer any insight as to what you did for a living, Baekhyun and Mia had both mentioned computers.

“He’s a software engineer, and I’m a programmer. Similar but not the same,” Mia explained. You weren't sure of any of the details or of how they were different. You hadn’t really put much thought into it. You knew Baekhyun worked the magic with the keyboard and could fix anything that you happened to break.

“I’m in advertising. Just got scouted by Comma Entertainment and I’ve accepted.” Ben had a hand raised to his chest and his eyebrows were up. This seemed important to him and you let your lips form into an impressed O shape as you raised your eyebrows. His tone and the way he said the name of his new employer seemed to warrant the excited reaction.

You weren't familiar at all with his industry but you knew how to react like you knew what he was talking about. He certainly seemed impressed by himself. Who were you to discourage his enthusiasm.

“You’ve heard of it?” You sold it too well. Baekhyun had leaned close to you and whispered an aside question and you shot him a tense look with your eyes as a warning, but you quickly pushed your smile wide for Ben who was, deservedly, very excited about his new position.

“Of course, who doesn’t know Comma for advertising. That’s a very big deal. Is that why you were so busy last week? We hardly got to talk.”

Your subject change was so slick. If you hadn’t been the one to do it, you’d have been impressed by it. The disappointed pout on your face sold it well.

“Actually I was at the bank a lot last week. It was so weird. I had a few accounts that seemed to be hacked but then it turned out to be nothing. Had to change all my passwords though, so that was annoying.”

“That sucks. They didn't take anything did they?” Mia spoke up from beside Ben; concern written all over her face.

“No. Whoever did it just seemed to access purchase histories mostly. Some loser of a hacker. Didn't even get any money.” Ben’s lips pulled wide and he was laughing with his head thrown back at his perceived victory over the hacker that had been messing around in his bank records.

“You can learn a remarkable amount of information about a person’s bad habits from their bank history, Ben. Sure utilities and rent; that’s boring. You can find out how often someone gets hammered at bars. How many of those bars are also strip clubs. How many maxed out credit cards they make minimum payments on each month just to keep their head above water. Their gambling losses and the motel rooms they book in the bad part of town…”

Baekhyun was speaking up beside you. You turned and you looked at his profile as he spoke so candidly and with what you could only describe as a certain smugness on his voice.

The only reason he’d stopped talking was to catch his breath. It was the most he had spoken all night and you honestly felt taken aback by the suddenness of his words and more, the topic he spoke on. It felt weirdly pointed. It just felt so detailed; almost accusatory.

“What?” You hissed the question; focused it hard and as under your breath as possible to the man seated beside you.

His lips closed up before his eyes turned to look at you and you caught a quick blink of his eyes that preceded a softening of his features that had no business looking that confrontational in the first place.

“I’m not saying any of that stuff applies to Ben.” Baekhyun lifted a slim dismissive hand to wave toward your date. “It’s just an example. For all we know Ben’s only weakness is eating fried chicken every day.”

Ben’s lips were pulled into a thin line on his face and his jaw unclenched when you looked back at him. Then he was smiling at you and it was bright and convincing. You smiled back at him and shook your head at your wacky roommate’s antics.

“Actually it’s pizza. You caught me buddy, I’m a hardcore pizza addict. Every night.”

“Well, not tonight.” Baekhyun shrugged with an odd smile landing on his lips.

Ben’s tight smile flattened and the two men seemed to be staring at each other for longer than you thought was polite for a shared first double-date.

“So what is it that you do?” It was Mia who ultimately broke the tension and you looked across the table into her eyes. She had a pleasant smile on her face and was still chewing on a piece of bread, clearly unbothered by the strange standoff that had just been going on between the two men at this table.

Surely you weren't the only one to notice how odd it had been. Had you just imagined the tightness in Baekhyun’s fist that laid over his thigh and the hard glare in Ben’s eyes?

With Mia’s question though, you felt your own lips pull closed and your eyes danced around the table to the other curious parties who also were now looking at you to answer the question.

You’d prepared well for this date. You’d made sure Baekhyun had the detailed first date topics, questions and answers for perfect small talk, even the section on table etiquette. You’d made sure he knew you’d be here to steer the conversations toward topics he was comfortable discussing and you’d even set up a safety signal he would use if he wanted to bail and just go home.

You’d planned it all out, down to the detailed progression of the evening and how at the end someone might even suggest going together for drinks. And should one of the dates wish to split off, it would be completely okay as long as the corresponding person felt comfortable. You’d even promised that under no circumstances would you abandon Baekhyun to do this on his own if he didn't want to. Not even at the behest of Ben, your date.

They were looking at you and you'd gone quiet. You’d been so busy preparing for this date that it never occurred to you that you were also actively involved and that someone might possibly ask a question about you and your work.

Your work. Well…

“Uhh...I don't really do anything worth mentioning.”

You felt it. It was a warmth that had pooled in the skin around your nose. Your cheeks felt warm and you felt just insignificant enough for it to take your undeserved confidence and throw it out the window.

Ben and Mia were watching you. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth and bit down on the dry chapped skin on the surface.

“Nothing?” Ben said and his eyes were wide with a look of confusion on his face.

“Well, not nothing.” You were not completely unemployed. You had been quite impressive before. You’d been working with the best publicists of an entertainment company and had been in charge of crafting and perfecting the asset sheets of many of your company's highest profile artists. You’d been the best at it and at one time had been highly sought out for your expertise. You had a way with it. You could work some real magic. You could make a dud of a raw potato sound like a five star course in a Michelin star restaurant. Losing your position in the spring of 2020 had really been a huge blow to your confidence. You looked back at how far you had fallen. Boring data entry jobs to make ends meet. Taking on weird side gigs so you could afford tiny luxuries like your favorite scented lotion or the name brand tampons instead of the store brand.

“I do have a job.” You added lamely. “It’s just not at all interesting.”

Ben dropped his eyes from yours and Mia shrugged her shoulders and stabbed a carrot ball expertly on the first try.

“Yeah but what is it?” Mia said as she chewed daintily. The heat in your cheeks spread and you let your eyes wander away from hers over the various dinner items that covered this table.

Beside you, Baekhyun’s movement caught your eye and you turned to see him place an elbow on the table in front of him and he leaned forward.

“She’s a dating coach. She’s really good at it, but much too modest when she talks about herself.”

Oh no. He wasn't about to spill the beans was he? This was definitely not something in the approved list of first date dinner topics. Wasn't this topic too incriminating? Wouldn't Mia put two and two together and figure out that you had been coaching Baekhyun all along? Also, wasn't this new profession of yours too brand new to start talking about so freely like this? What the hell was he doing?

“A dating coach? What’s that?”

Strangely, Mia didn't seem to be looking at Baekhyun with wheels turning and sirens blaring. She was looking at you with her mouth empty and hung open with a look of genuine interest in her eyes.

“Do you like, feed them what to say in an earpiece?” Ben was speaking up from the other side of Mia and you laughed at the absurdity of such a silly rom-com movie cliche.

“Well no. I’m not a pickup artist. I am a dating coach. Think about it like a sports coach. I am teaching my clients the skills to play the game. Skills to overcome dating anxiety, or I’m teaching them to identity and move away from self-sabotaging behaviors, limiting beliefs, or preconceptions that are detrimental to a healthy relationship.

I have clients that don't even know where to begin. My goal is to strategize with them and place them effectively within the dating scene so they stand the best chance. It’s incredibly hard to be objective about your own love life, but I provide an outside viewpoint. I step in and intervene when I see something that isn't in line with their relationship goals or the vision they have for dating.

I’m not teaching manipulation or just telling them what to say. There are no love spells to make someone fall in love with you. I’m changing the way they believe in themselves so they can present themselves to someone else in the absolute best way to begin a real relationship with someone.”

You’d been leaning in as you spoke animatedly with your hands. You felt the genuine excitement building with your words. You were surprised at how much of your previous profession’s language applied to this new exciting endeavor you were embarking on, but there really were tons of overlapping similarities between the two fields. The explanations just poured out of you.

You hadn’t said any of this out loud before to anyone but the more you talked about it, the more elated you felt about what you were doing with your life. With how much you had been helping Baekhyun and how much progress you had seen in just one day of helping your clients — Baekhyun’s friends Minseok and Sehun. Sehun had finally, finally sent you his first selfie that wasn’t taken from his lap after you’d sent him many examples of good selfies taken from different angles. Minseok was already halfway through the materials you’d sent him to study and had been working hard on identifying and changing the self-defeating language he’d used in his rough draft dating profile.

“She has an app.” Baekhyun piped up from beside you. He’d leaned back in his chair as you spoke.

Both Ben and Mia’s faces mirrored each other’s. Their eyes were wide and their mouths hung in amazement and you quickly closed up your own mouth and grabbed anxiously at your wine glass, feeling a little bit embarrassed about having talked so much. You couldn't resist the chance to smash their misconceptions about what your goals actually were with helping your clients. None of these people were unlovable. They were all worthy of finding someone and you were going to give it your all to help them see their own value.

“Not at all interesting?” Mia spoke up, “that’s super interesting. That’s really, really cool. Can—Can I have your contact info? I have a friend that would be interested in your services.”

“You have an app too? This is something we could advertise online. It would do extremely well on certain kinds of reddit forums and definitely in most online gaming communities.” Even Ben sounded excited, if not a bit overly judgmental, and you heard a quiet, but hostile scoff next to you.

You ticked your head toward the sound but did not turn to look at him. You knew that scoff well enough to hear the annoyance in his voice at whatever he thought Ben might be insinuating about online gamers and the connection to the incels that haunted the forums of reddit.

“I think it’s a bit premature to think about online advertising. I’m still only one person.”

Ben smiled and shrugged off your quick dismissal of his idea to partner up and advertise your business to the desperately lonely and pathetic gamers of the world. Hell, the more you thought about it, the less inappropriate Baekhyun’s annoyance was. Ben could use some coaching on choosing less insulting words.

Thankfully the dinner was over and the check had been taken care of. You looked away from the palpable awkwardness that slapped you across the face when Baekhyun waved away Ben’s card and paid for the entire bill with his own.

“You can get me next time, buddy.” He definitely said this word sarcastically. It was out of line and you simply could not find the right moment to pinch his leg under the table to get him to behave himself in a discrete enough way that would not get you caught by the other two people at this table.

You let it slide simply because you had no way to stop it. He was ignoring the way you waved your finger frantically at him down by your calf. You knew he could see you in his peripherals.

No, Baekhyun. Stop that. Be nice. Your hand was saying. He wouldn't even look at it.

The dinner was over and the movie was starting soon. You’d picked a restaurant that was close enough to the theatre that you could walk.

You paired off. It was far from natural. You actually caught Baekhyun’s eyes as you stepped quickly and walked ahead of him, falling into step beside Ben and you left behind Baekhyun and Mia to bring up the rear. It took every ounce of self control not to turn around and look behind you to see how closely they walked to each other. To see if Baekhyun kept his hands shoved securely in his pockets or if he swung his arms at his side as he walked, inching a hand closer and closer to Mia’s swinging hand in the hopes of a back of the hand brush of his warm skin against hers.

Your steps must have stalled. You’d reached the theatre and you looked up to locate Ben, only to find him at the box office purchasing four tickets for the movie you’d all agreed to watch days ago. For the life of you, you couldn't remember what you were seeing. You merely followed where you were led and found yourself seated in a center row of a movie house sandwiched between Ben and Baekhyun. You noticed the center armrests had been lifted when you arrived and simply did not bother to lower them since everyone was too full from dinner for any movie snacks or drinks.

The house was mostly empty and then lights dimmed as the movie began. You searched your brain and nearly pulled out your phone to check your chat logs for the name of the film but decided against shining a tiny bright light in a dark room.

The movie began and you were quickly drawn into the narrative. It was a dark film and as the soundtrack began to take on more sinister sounding tones you recognized that your heart was racing and you were feeling the tension all over your body. It was not a gorey horror film, but it was leaning more toward the psychological suspense thriller genre. Not really something you watched much of.

To your left, Ben sat completely still; focused only on the movie screen. He looked so calm and nearly unaffected by the terrifying things happening on the screen. He occasionally shifted in his seat but did not react to the jump scare that flashed before your eyes and made you flinch hard in your seat. You’d reached the point in the film when the main characters were in genuine danger and you began to wonder if anyone would make it out of this movie alive. Was this one of those films where everyone was doomed?

It happened again, another jump, another loud shocking sound and another noise startled you and you dove to your right, hiding your face in the warm shoulder of the man sitting beside you.

The realization was instantaneous. The second you felt the warmth of his arm, and the smell of him hit your nose, you pulled your head up and you straightened out your spine, mumbling a quiet apology to Baekhyun for using his arm to hide behind as you removed any and all contact points you had with his body. You angled your hips and your knees away from him and even went so far as to stick your hands well under your own thighs and keep them there so you didn't grab for him again. You had been doing so well by not touching him at all today. Why did it have to be a scary movie?

Things grew more frantic on the screen. You held your breath and tried your best to keep from reacting as much as you could. How long was this movie? How much longer did you have to endure this? You should have paid more attention to the details of this part of the date. This was your own fault. You were acting like a big baby because you couldn't handle a little frightening scenes in a movie.

It was coming again. You could feel it building. You closed your eyes and terrible sounds were erupting all over. You would just not look. You could make it through if you just didn't look. With your eyes closed the sounds felt louder than ever and when you thought you couldn't take it anymore you considered committing the enormous sin of getting up during the climax of the movie to use the bathroom just so you didn't have to sit through this anymore.

There was a shift beside you then. You felt warm fingers inching down your forearm, traveling the path your hand took that led below your thigh and someone was reaching for your hand and pulling it out from where you’d been sitting on it. Someone to your right was gripping your hand with his own warm hand and you opened your eyes to look down between the hidden space between your hip and Baekhyun’s hip. There, you saw the grip of his hand that wrapped securely around yours.

He squeezed down once and you followed the length of him up to catch a glimpse of the side of his face. He was looking up at the screen. His eyes were open and he did not flinch at all. He was so still aside from the occasional movement of his lips when he moistened them with his tongue.

You could handle this if he lent you a little bit of his strength like this. Your eyes returned to the screen but your mind wandered back down to the secure comfort you felt in his hand.

You felt your own secret throb.

It made you flinch just a little bit and Baekhyun’s hand shifted then. He moved, lifting the tight grip for a moment and you wondered if he was done, would he take his hand back and leave you cold and afraid again? The lift was for the shift of his fingers and you felt the push of each digit between yours. He pushed his fingers between yours; interlocking your hands together with his and his thumb moved lightly over your own thumb, brushing comforting strokes again and again through the loud and scary and shocking scenes that played over that screen.

This time the racing you felt in your chest had nothing to do with the scary movie. He was touching you. He was holding your hand in secret. It felt forbidden with his date sitting right beside him like she was and with your date seated right beside you like he was. All of your attention was down on the slow pressure you felt from his thumb as it traced the shape of your own thumb down from the very bottom up to the tip, around again. The simple up and down had a slow and sensual rhythm to it. When he lifted his hand his thumb moved and you held your breath to feel that same very slow touching trace the outline of the palm of your hand again and again. He drew absentminded shapes into your skin with the pointed tip of his thumb and your eyes drifted closed as the longing grew within you. He followed the paths of the creases in your skin like a palm reader. He did not even need light to see them, he simply felt them and traced along the paths.

You let him.

You felt bewitched.

You loved him.

The credits rolled on the screen and the lights switched on. The change was abrupt. You were taken by surprise and shocked by it like you were from the jump scares in the film.

His warmth left you. His wandering light touch, his deliberate and careful exploration of the lines that made up the palm of your hand vanished.

Everyone was standing and everyone was walking out of the theatre house and your mind felt clouded and dazed but you followed where their steps led and you found yourself standing outside of the exit doors with the three other people who you entered with.

Baekhyun stood beside Mia and Ben occupied the space of the sidewalk square that you also stood inside.

It was the end of a night. You felt an overwhelming urge for this evening to be done so you could go home and shower and maybe eat something sweet and distracting and maybe made out of chocolate.

“Well this was fun,” it was your own voice that ultimately called it.

Mia had been looking at Baekhyun who had been looking down at his own feet as he lightly tapped his foot on the concrete below. Three taps.

Tap, tap, tap.

You felt a jolt of realization. Baekhyun had just tapped his foot thrice on the floor below him well within your sight and you recognized what that meant. He was feeling done. He was done with all of this exhausting socializing and being out in public with so many people around and he wanted to go home now. This was him asking you for help now as he wasn't sure how to end the date but wanted it to be over.

“What about...grabbing some drinks, maybe...” Mia was talking only to Baekhyun as she looked at him, “if you aren't too tired.”

“Hey Baek, isn’t your grandmother coming over early tomorrow? Do you still have to get ready for that?” You interjected suddenly and Baekhyun looked up into your face with his mouth open and you watched his eyes move slowly over your face as he recognized what you were doing. You were giving him an out. Mia had asked him to go for drinks and you were giving him an excuse, should he need it.

You both knew his grandma came every other Sunday. You both vividly remembered the wonderful visit you had at the beginning of the week with her and she wasn’t due to arrive again until next Sunday.

He could simply correct you if he really did want to go with her. He could call you a dummy and tell you that you had the wrong week again and playfully tap you on the head to jog your brain back into functioning the right way as he often did when you got something mixed up.

“Oh, yeah she is,” Baekhyun grabbed your convenient reminder from the air and smiled a rueful smile directed at Mia. His smile widened with the wince on his face, “that’s too bad.” He added and Mia took it well.

She smiled and nodded her head and there were well wishes for a safe trip home all around as you all parted ways.

Ben said he would text you later. Baekhyun told Mia the same and you waited until they both walked away to follow Baekhyun back to his car for the quiet ride home.

The silence was heavy, but it was comfortable.

Baekhyun didn't speak at all and you could tell by the way he carried himself that he was tired. He wasn’t normally an extroverted person and found it very draining to carry on a full conversation with friends he knew well. Strangers like he had been with tonight, well, you could see the fatigue in his movements and you knew he needed something warm to drink and maybe some comfort with a familiar favorite tv show to zone out in front of.

You handled it better. You were used to having to go out of your home occasionally and you even enjoyed socializing with your coworkers on the few days you went in to the office for work. You felt a bit drained but mostly you were preoccupied with watching how he was handling it and you were also burning with curiosity to know how Baekhyun felt about the whole thing.

He’d wandered into the living room and he found the sofa. You followed him close behind and grabbed the remote, flipping to a familiar and funny cartoon that you often saw him playing in the background as he worked on things. He didn't usually watch it that closely but it was comforting enough to stay on and keep his mind occupied for a while.

You didn't speak. Everything you had to ask him could wait. Even the scolding you had for him about how he acted toward Ben could also wait. You’d let the man breathe a little first.

You busied yourself in the kitchen making two cups of hot tea and when you returned you found his head leaning against the back of the couch with his eyes still glued to the screen. He had a passive smile on his face and he reacted positively to the wacky scenarios the characters found themselves in. He would occasionally speak out loud, speaking along with a funny line he knew by heart and you found it impossible to resist saying the follow up joke. You knew this show as well as he did.

He accepted the tea with a smile and had a few sips and you set your mug on the coffee table in favorable of the comfortable side of the sofa, the side with the pillows that allowed you to rest your head comfortably as you watched the big tv.

You were feeling pretty good. Baekhyun had now officially gone on his first date with a real girl who wasn’t you and he’d had a nice time. You could see from where you laid your head down how relaxed his face was as he giggled at the show.

You stretched and you felt his warm thigh with your foot. This sofa was long enough for you to stretch out completely and you only barely reached where he sat at the other side. You wiggled your toes, unable to resist the light messing with him that you often gave in to and his hand reached down to grab ahold of your foot, which he held in place as he paid attention to the tv.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket and you sat up a little bit to pull it out.

You saw a text message from Ben.

From the preview you got the idea of what kind of text message the man would be sending you an hour after your first, and apparently your last date with him.

-Hey you seem like a super cool girl, but...

The preview showed you enough to know that he was dumping you before you’d even gotten anything started with him.

You opened the text. Your curiosity outweighed your sense of self preservation.

-...but whatever’s going on between you and your roommate, well it doesn’t really seem like there’s much room for me. I just don't think I can start something knowing I’ve already lost. Thanks for inviting me tonight. The movie was fun. Good luck with everything. - Ben

You felt the sting.

You couldn't help it. You’d spent all evening watching Baekhyun interact with Mia with every ounce of your self control devoted to not letting your jealousy show at all. At one point you’d been so damn engrossed in them that you forgot Ben was even there. What an unfair and shitty situation to have put him in. You quickly keyed out an apology for your crappy date etiquette and thanked him for going out with you tonight.

You couldn't even blame him for anything. He had been sweet and he had tried his best to be the perfect gentleman. What had you expected?

You sent the last message you would ever send to Ben and tossed your phone roughly toward the coffee table. It bounced but landed in the middle.

The racket called Baekhyun’s attention and he turned to look at you with his eyebrows raised in question.

“Ben just rejected me.”

Somehow saying this out loud to Baekhyun felt better than hiding it from him. It felt less miserable than keeping it inside of yourself and letting yourself suffer the sting of the rejection alone.

Baekhyun’s lips pulled into a small frown and he took out his cell phone from his pocket and tossed it roughly on the coffee table beside yours. It took a similar bounce and your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gesture.

“No way, not Mia too,” you said in genuine fear and Baekhyun shook his head with his shrug still well in place.

“Nah, I just can't lay down with my phone in my pocket,” he said as he wiggled on the sofa trying to get comfortable, “though in hindsight I can see how you would think that, sorry. Mia hasn’t texted yet.”

He was wiggling, finding no comfort in all the positions he tried and you caught his wandering eyes for a second as you lightly tapped a hand over your belly.

This…

This would be fine. This was something you both did sometimes. Baekhyun said your belly was warm and comfy and made the best noises and he liked to use you as a pillow when he was just too tired to go to his own bed.

He moved right away at your invitation and you let your legs part around his chest as he laid his head down right on top of you. He turned his head to face the tv and didn't even squirm too much before he sighed out loud. His arms laid on either side of your waist and you felt the constriction as he lightly squeezed around you.

You really hadn’t gotten to touch him all day. Your fingers found their way into his hair and you felt a low moan from the back of his throat travel though your body as you raked your nails down the back of his head to his nape.

“Peanut,” you said softly, feeling every little bit of the annoying little tickle of that stupid secret sitting inside of you.

You could feel the heaviness of his body as he gave in and relaxed his muscles on you. You felt every breath he took and they seemed to be changing as you played with his hair and he gave in to the relaxing comfort you offered him.

“Hmm?” He replied after a long while. You angled your face and could see that his eyes were closed.

“How was the date? Was it nice?”

You had so many hopes for him. You were trying your best to ignore the pangs of your own selfish jealousy and get past it all to get to something good for him. Something that would make him understand how incredible he was. How beautiful he was inside and out and how precious of a human being he was.

“Mhmm, I liked it.” He said softly and he shifted and you felt him tighten his hold around your waist briefly before he relaxed again.

“Did you really? Do you think you liked Mia?” You kept your voice strong. You did not allow your fears to overcome your voice. You were okay with this if he was okay.

He did not answer right away. You’d stopped playing with his hair and you kept your hand rested over his head. He was so warm. He was so lovely.

“Do you want me to like Mia?”

No.

Mia would be so good to him.

You did not answer. Your answer would have been no. It would have been selfish. You’d just been dumped by your date, how dare his date have gone so well. You’d both been on the same date. You could still see the way she looked at him. She found him just as lovely as you did.

You felt a thickness at the back of your throat and you swallowed it down.

“I’m trying, Bug. She’s very nice to talk to. Do you think I should like her?”

Was this because of his mistrust of people? Was this his shyness about letting someone he didn't know very well in close?

You couldn't respond. You did not trust yourself to do the right thing.

“You should go rest if you’re sleepy,” you said, you know, like a coward.

It took him a few minutes of laying on top of you before he realized that you were right and he would be much more comfortable in his own bed. He nodded and pushed up with his arms, and his eyes stayed closed and his head stayed hung down as his feet shuffled and he made his way into his bedroom, leaving his door open you merely heard the loud sound of him plopping down on his bed.

You were stuck where he left you.

Stuck in about as crappy a mood as you’d ever found yourself.

You hated everything about this. You hated how much you loved him and you hated how receptive he was to the idea of dating Mia. You hated how she looked at him and giggled at his small jokes and you hated HATED the way his cheeks blushed and the shy smiles he gave her when she talked to him.

You laid there and you stewed in your mood for longer than was good for you and the only thing that made your it up was the simultaneous buzzing that brought both of your cell phones to life on the coffee table.

You reached for yours. It’s as your dating coach app. Baekhyun had received a new message from Mia. The feelings that surged through you were taking over your sense of what was good and what was right and what was proper behavior for someone like you to participate in.

You swiped to read the message.

-Hi Baekhyun. Sorry I couldn't wait until tomorrow to text you. I had an amazing time tonight and I was wondering if you would like to meet up tomorrow after your Grandmother’s visit for coffee? I have something I’d like to ask you.

You felt as if your body was on fire.

You could feel it deep inside your chest, deeper still inside your belly where his head had been resting moments before. You felt it in the palm of your hand where his thumb had traced the patterns of lines there. You felt it in your lips that he had kissed and in your tongue ached inside of your mouth from your stupid secret.

You reached for your phone. You opened the app for the power he’d given only to you and you responded to her message as if you were Baekhyun.

-Hi, Yeah, that sounds fine. I’ll meet you at 1pm.

Your hands moved on their own. You moved to the internal commands of your app and you deleted both of the messages from the chat history. When you picked up his phone you saw the notification for Mia’s message vanish before your eyes and when you unlocked it and accessed his chat log, there was no sign of the unimaginable and unforgivable sin you had just committed against him.

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5 , Part 6 , Part 7 , Part 8  , Part 9 , Part 10

Tag list: @j-pping  @blahblahblah-boo  @his-mochi-cheeks  @amyeonzing@littleflowercrown13  @baekinmylife  @insta1010  @nana-banana  @f4ncyvelvet@bbhbeth  @totallynerdstuff  @byunbabybaek @maijinki @bbyunz@theclawofaraven @kingkushdealer  @uhobob @baekswifey​ @punchmebaekhyun @xlxbaekhyuneex

[barry-j-blupjeans]

Blupjeans and 5!!!

5. “are you flirting with me?”

(general/fluff prompt list - accepting!!)

((sometimes u just wrote 1k+ of blupjeans and their mental illnesses and that's ok))

--

If Barry was being honest, he had never been the best at keeping his thoughts to himself at inopportune times. It got better, with the ADHD pills. Today, unfortunately, he had forgotten to take them. Along with the rest of his meds. Today was a mess. He had been staring at his lab work for the last fifteen minutes, while Lup worked on something next to him. His mind was- wondering, at best, focusing on Lup, at worse.

Lup was so- gods, she was the best. Barry didn't have many friends before Lup and her brother showed up. To be honest, he didn't have many friends after they showed up, either, but once they had gotten past their differences, Barry had never met someone he liked more. Friendship-wise and, well, romantically.

Barry was- he was a walking disaster, in his humble opinion. Half the time he was running late to school, the other half he was there so early that school didn't start for at least a few hours. He was a good student, he had decent grades and he could function pretty well by himself most of the time. He liked to stay after school because getting work done at home just wasn't the same. He couldn't motivate himself there.

Most of his friends opted to go home. Lup liked to stay sometimes. Barry liked Lup. It all worked out.

He had thought... okay, well, he had thought he was being subtle about it. He thought he had been able to keep his act together pretty well, despite the fact he had had a crush on Lup for the last five years. Or more. Probably more.

His friends had broken the news... not so gently to him a few months ago. Meaning that Taako had literally hit him in the head with a book when he tried to bluff his way through "not liking Lup" and Magnus hadn't stopped laughing for a whole thirty minutes when he had insisted Lup "didn't like him back".

She did. Apparently. According to Lucretia and Magnus and Taako, who probably knew her the best out of all of them. Then he spent another thirty minutes listening to Taako bemoaning about having to put up with Lup's crush on Barry. Their little meeting had ended with them insisting that he make some kind of move with her because she probably wouldn't reject him.

He got word from Magnus that they had had the same exact conversation with Lup, too. They were both "too fucking stupid" to make a move on each other, though. Barry assured him that they would talk.

It had been... nearly six months.

And he forgot his ADHD pills today.

"Are you flirting with me?" Barry asked, breaking the silence of the otherwise empty lab room. Lup looked up from her work (AP physics, maybe-?) and stared at him. It took Barry's brain a second to catch up with what he had just said.

"Not right now!" he rushed on. "I- fuck, uh, I- okay, so. Taako and- they talked to me. A while ago and were like, "Hey, Barry, stop being so fucking dumb about liking Lup!" and I was like, "hey, that's none of your business!" and then Taako said you liked me too, but I was just like, y'know, that's Taako just trying to get me to do something stupid for- for a joke.

But they've all been like- weirdly insistent on it? Even Lucretia, who, uh- I don't think she or Magnus would do anything mean-spirited like this, most of the time, which makes me think they're being serious- not that Taako is mean spirited, he's just more-" Lup was staring at him. "...eccentric. With how he shows affection. Sorry."

Lup... wasn't staying anything. The grip she had on her pencil had loosened considerably and he watched as it fell onto her paper. He swallowed tight, panic seizing up in his chest. This was maybe- okay, this wasn't the best way to talk about it, yeah. She was- Fuck, okay, he-

"Sorry," Barry said, looking away finally, even though it still feel like her eyes were burning through him. "Right, sorry, I, uh, I should go, and-"

"Barry, wait," she said and he squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to cry. He also didn't take his anxiety meds this morning. What was the point of his fucking pill caddy if he didn't remember to take his pills-

"You're not fucking with me, are you?" she asked. "You really- uhm. You like me too?"

"Yeah," Barry choked out, eyes still shut. Was his heart pounding because of anxiety, or the tension, or- "I should go," he said again, standing up. He stood up, eyes trained to the ground, and Lup caught his arm.

"Deep breaths," she said and Barry sucked in a one that maybe was too deep. She let him sit back down, hand going from holding his wrist to holding his hand. He was sweating. Was that gross? That was probably gross.

"I forgot my pills this morning," Barry said, trying to make it sound like a joke.

"I know," Lup said. "You said during lunch. Babe- Barry, just focus on your breathing, okay?"

"Okay," Barry said, doing that. He shut his eyes again, but his mind was still jumping up and down at the fact that Lup was holding his hand. He didn't know why, she had held his hand many times before, especially when he was anxious. It was just- it was different now after he had actually confessed to her. Did she feel required to do this? He didn't want to make her uncomfortable.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Barry asked, finally, finally looking at her. She was looking at him, too, carefully. That was her Thinking Face. Barry swallowed.

"No," she said. "I'm processing some things."

"Sorry," Barry started.

"No because of you," she assured him. "Well, I mean- it has to do with you, but in a good way. Taako told me that I was being stupid about... not telling you that I liked you. Because you liked me too? And I was being dumb?"

"You like me too?" Barry repeated. Lup let out a little breathless laugh, nodding.

"Yeah," she said, squeezing his hands.

"You're not fucking with me?" Barry asked, just to make sure. She smiled at him like the sun.

"Never with something like this, babe, I promise," Lup said. "I was... nervous. About telling you. Like I'm confident and badass and stuff-"

"Yeah," Barry agreed.

"But still got this little friend called abandonment issues, so, y'know- it's- it's hard to like... talk about feelings with people. Even if I know they probably won't, uh. Do anything bad, on purpose."

"I- I might screw up sometimes," Barry said honestly because it was true. "I'm trying my best to not fuck things up, I promise, but I... really like you, Lup."

"I really like you too, Barry," Lup said. "Can I- I don't know if I wanna, uhm. Y'know. Kiss you yet. But can we... try a date. Maybe?"

"If you want!" Barry said. "I- whenever's good with me, I just- I mean, preferably on a day when I remember to take my meds, but-"

"Yeah," Lup said. "Yeah, of course, babe, just- I'll text you the dets, later. Is that okay?"

"Yeah," Barry said. "That's- that's great, yeah!"

"And can we... not tell anyone yet," Lup said, finally looking away from him. "I mean, like- I don't want to fuck things up and then have to tell everyone everything went badly. Not that I think it'll go badly."

"No, I- I get that," Barry said, nodding. He squeezed her hand. His heart was doing a little dance in his chest. "I really do, Lup, I understand. We can talk about like... conditions and stuff now, or-?"

"On the date," Lup said, "would be better, I think. I've still got math shit to figure out."

She looked over at her homework with disdain. Barry's brain kicked back into gear.

"Oh yeah," he said, looking down at the genetics worksheet he had. "I- this slipped my mind, my bad."

[shyestofhearts]

Hi Shy~

Sooo, I have this headcanon that Damian is like this wonderful child prodigy genius. Like, super smart. So smart, that when Bruce tries to enroll him in Gotham academy, they tell him that Damian has tests for college level. Which, Damian just rolls his eyes at, because duh. After discussing it with professionals and yada yada, Damian gets enrolled into college. He’s like, twelve-ish. He is STILL bored in class, and knows most of the information they are trying to teach. His advisor is so sweet and invested into Damian though. And observant. After noticing Damian lack of enthusiasm, he asks Damian what the problem. Nothing interests him, none of his classes.this advisor is an old timer, in my opinion, and has seen so many kids pushed to do things they never wanted to do, and decides he can’t let that happen with Damian. So the Advisor pulls out every department, every major, and goes through it with Damian. After a few hours, because it takes a while to convince Damian that it is alright to do anything he wants, Damian has his majors narrowed down to a few things. Art and pre-med. Damian’s advisor suggests he visit a few of the clubs on campus to really get a feel of what he wants. Thing is, even after going to the students’ art club gallery and one of the pre-med club meetings, neither really speak to him. It’s a Saturday night, and he’s alone on campus. Damian is about to call Alfred, when a student from Damian’s organic chemistry class spots him.

“Damian!” Jace, a slightly round student with soft curly hair smiles at Damian. “Are you here for the show?”

“Show?” Damian scowls?

“Yeah, the fashion show. This year’s theme is sustainability,” Jace smiles. They one of the few people who never ogled at Damian for being a Wayne or looked down on him for his age. They are just genuinely nice, and Damian knows that.

“I didn’t know we had a fashion show,”

“Really? I swear I thought I mentioned it,” Jace says, surprised. Jace may have mentioned that, but Damian probably was zoned out during the time.“Tickets are $15, if you wanna come”

“Oh,” Damian frowns, “I used all the money I brought with me for the art gallery and lunch earlier,” He says, cursing internally for not bringing more cash with him.

“If you want to go, I’ll cover you.” Jace smiles, “Think of it as payment for help on our last exam” Damian would usually say no, but Jace is just so nice,

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Besides,” Jace smiles, turning towards the stadium, “I have a feeling you’re going to love it”

And Damian did love it. The designs were amazing, some more haute couture while others were casual, and each designer explained how their designs involved sustainability. Some were statement pieces, designed to address political issues, others were just to demonstrate that sustainability could still be cute, and while others highlighted affordability and sustainability.

Damian wanted to do this. Running through his head were endless possibilities. Perhaps he can enlist the help of Poison Ivy to create a vegan leather that was also bullet resistant, or…

The next Monday he is waiting for his advisor at 7 in the morning, because he spent the rest of the weekend coming up with ideas, sketches, creating a portfolio, and practicing hypothetical arguments as to why Damian should go into fashion. At 7:15 his advisor sees him, and can tell by the light in Damian’s eyes, determination on his face, and the way he’s clutching his sketchbook, Damian has found it.

“I want into the fashion program!” Damian all but bursts, unconsciously on his tippy toes in excitement.

“Okay,” His advisor smiles, ushering him into his office. “Let’s make it happen”

“Just like that?” Damian asks, eyes wide, voice surprisingly small. His advisor smiles at him kindly.

“I’ll do whatever I can to make it happen.”

It takes a bit before Damian can actually get into the program, he has to work on some prerequisites, and also create a better portfolio with samples, but Damian is determined. By the end of the school year, he has been accepted.

Damian doesn’t tell his family, not in the beginning. He actually doesn’t want to tell his friends either, unsure of how they’d react. He is still insecure, and just entering his teen years. He worries about what any or everyone will say. Eventually, though he tells Jon and Colin, swearing them to secrecy. They both are excited for him, asking if he’d design their costumes for them. Damian blushes but says,

“Tt, like you can afford me”

He eventually tells Alfred as well, because he needs help learning how to use a sewing machine, and fast. Sure, he can stitch someone up flawlessly, but sewing machines weren’t part of the League’s lessons. Alfred is in charge of the one at the Manor, so it only makes sense to ask him. Even so, Damian is reluctant. When he does finally ask, he nearly gives himself an attack, worrying about being scolded for not using his “full potential”. Alfred simply squeezes Damian’s shoulder, and agrees with a kind smile. The young Master finally seemed passionate about something besides vigilante work and violence. Alfred would do everything in his power to foster that.

“Just,” Damian looks down, hands clenching into fists at his side, “Do not tell the others. I would prefer this between us,” He looks at Alfred, unsuccessfully trying to hide the vulnerability in his wide emerald eyes. Alfred agrees, for now. On the conditions that Damian would have to tell his father and siblings himself, and not to far in the future either.

Damian impresses everyone with his designs, and people learn he is actually quite adorable when he’s doing something he enjoys. His classmates and professors encourage him to join the fall fashion show, which is covering “multiculturalism and the media”. Damian hesitantly agrees, though he has been making designs since the theme was announced. His room is full of crumbled paper on his floor, designs he deigned not good enough. Many of his designs are heavily influenced by his Arab culture, but he also has some Chinese-influenced designs as well. His statement piece is the hardest to get right. It involves a hijab and beautiful colors, but he just can’t get the right patter. Ripping another page and crumpling it,Damian is too concentrated to realized Tim and Dick have been creeping into his room.

“What’s this Dames?” Dick asks, startling Damian, as he looks at some of the rejected designs. Panic makes Damian defensive as he yells at them to get out, frustration fueling the dread of his family seeing such unsatisfactory work. Tim flinches, shocked by the emotion coming off of Damian, rushing out with a few crumpled papers he snuck from the floor. Damian is literally trying to shove Dick out the door. Dick turns around, because he can hear the panic in his little brother’s voice. In his Robin’ voice. “Damian,” he says softly, easily deflecting Damian. “It’s okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around Damian, reversing the situation. “What’s wrong, why are you reacting like this?” After a few minutes of struggling, Damian gives up. Slowly,he explains the situation, how he’s in the fashion program and the fashion show coming up, all the pressure to do well, the frustration of not having his statement piece yet. Dick listens, his hold turning into a hug. “From what I’ve seen,” Dick says softly, “these are all wonderful designs,Dami. Whatever you end up making will look amazing, if they look anything like your sketches.”

“It’s not enough!” Damian complains, eyes burning, but he refuses to cry. “You don’t understand!” He says, frustrated.

“Then explain it to me, why is this so important?”

“Because it is about me!” Damian’s voice cracks ask he turns away rosiness his eyes harshly. “When I was introduced to the public, as “Bruce Wayne’s biological son”, do you not remember how the newspapers reacted? They didn’t know me, or my mother, but because—because of my skin, the country I was born, I was mistrusted. Scorned. Yeah, maybe I’ve killed people, but that isn’t because of my skin color or my culture or the language I speak. I have this opportunity to speak out against that!” Damian turns to look at Dick, “I’ve tried to become better, to do better. It’s hard and unfair that none of that matters, because guests are invited to galas hosted in the house that I live in, only to make snide racist comments about “nukes” or the desert or bombs whenever Father and you all aren’t around me. How can I be better, when I’m not given the chance because people can’t see past my skin?” Dick wraps Damian into a tight hug, as wetness drips down Damian’s cheeks. “I’ve been here nearly four years—and it still happens” Damian whispers.

“Why didn’t you say anything Dami?”

“What could I say?” Damian whispers back,

“Bruce—”

“Invites these people because they are important to Wayne Enterprise.” He scoffs. “What could you do, especially if I have no proof?”

“Believe me, Damian,” Dick says seriously, pulling back to look into Damian’s eyes. “Bruce won’t invite anyone who’s racist or derogatory towards his children, back to a gala, let alone do business with him again.” He smiles a hard somewhat vicious smile. “I know because when I was first adopted, he did that for me” Damian’s eyes widen. “And if Bruce can’t defend you, you can bet your brothers will,” Damian looks unsure, but nods. “But I get it now. You’ve always used art to vent and express yourself. This design is something that would allow you to address what the media has done to and said about you.”

“It’s been,” Damian shrugs, looking down, “therapeutic. In a way I never imagined it would be.”

“Well, I think, whatever you end up designing will be amazing,” Dick smiles, and Damian looks up at the sincerity, giving his own smile smile in response. “And I expect an invitation to the fashion show!” He chuckles, causing Damian to blush. “And I bet the whole family would want to come as well,” Damian blushes, looking away once more.

“Tickets are $15 each, and available online,” Damian replies, making Dick belly laugh. “You can invite the others, if you’d like” Damian mumbles.

“Hmm,how ‘bout I invite the siblings while you invite your dad,” Damian grumbles, but agrees. “Great! Now, take a break. One night not designing won’t hurt you.” Dick says, wrapping his arm around Damian’s shoulder. ‘Might do you some good, in fact.”

Things get better after that, because after his talk with Dick, Damian gets an idea for his design. Ziba, a Persian student Damian met in his Literature class, agreed to be his model for his statement piece. She wore her hijab proudly, a solid black color, which helped with the down-to-business look the rest of the outfit screamed. Ziba’s makeup was beautiful, as Damian was putting the last touches on her. They both were quiet, nervous excitement pulsing through them both. Ziba had on white trousers that flared out a bit, to give an almost flowy feel, with black basic vegan leather square pointed toe mule flat accented by a silver buckle. Damian had made the top a cross between a tunic, a blazer, and a cape. It is white, and goes over a plain solid black turtleneck. Printed on both the buttoned blazer tunic top and the trousers are past racist articles written about Damian. In red graffiti styled letters sprayed across the news paper articles are phrases like “Lies” “Warped Perception” “Western POV” “Racist” “I was only 10”. The red paint matches the red lipstick Ziba is wearing.

Damian was nervous with his family in the audience, everyone including Alfred was there. Apparently Superman and Superboy were in attendance too, as civilians of course. Colin was there too. Damian had told his father about the fashion show, and was surprised to see how supportive he was about it. Of course that may have been the shock, as Damian had told him that morning before leaving for school. Bruce blinked, stood up and hugged Damian, before saying he couldn’t wait for the show.

Damian’s set is the last, ask the show is in alphabetical order according to last names. When it’s his turn, all of his model’s line up, and Damian is running around making sure everything is perfect. He hears the speaker introduce his collection, inviting Damian to join him on stage. Damian rushes out, brown cheeks turn red. Together they introduce all seven outfits of the collection one by one, as Damian describes his designs, the material, and the inspiration behind each one. When it get’s to Ziba’s turn, Damian’s nearly choked up. He manages to discuss this piece and it’s significance to him. At the end, Damian received a standing ovation from nearly everyone. Looking over at his family, he has to duck from hiding his flamed cheeks. All his siblings were cheering for him, while Bruce and Dick dab their eyes. Alfred has a proud look on his face, and Damian couldn’t have been happier.

He ends up getting second place, but also his own work room at the Manor. Damian begins selling his work after getting it patented (Tim demanded it), and is surprised when a number of orders are for the galas around Gotham. Dick told Bruce and the others about all the things Damian has been hearing at Galas, and they are justifiably angry. Duke begins chants of “Eat the Rich” every time he hears someone says something problematic about Damian, and that because Tim’s signal on who to take down next.

Damian’s designs become more widely popular as his family starts wearing them, as they love talking about it and how he uses sustainable methods and materials. This earns him big named clients, who start wearing Damian’s designs on the Red Carpet and premiers . Damian also likes to do work for charity, often donating dresses to high schoolers who cannot afford prom dresses or making clothes out of extra material to donate to shelters so people have clothes for job interviews and such.

(He also makes his pets clothes when he’s bored, so it’s normal to see Titus wearing a doggy hoodie with slits in it for his ears)

ANYWAYS, this is my headcanon lol

What do think about it?

—🧵🪡

Headcanon?? Bestie this a whole ass au!

As for my thoughts-

💳 💥💥 💳 💥💥💥 💳 💥💥💥💥

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 12 - ao3 -

The dinner lasted until late, late enough that Lan Qiren had to make his excuses and even then only just barely got back to his room in time to fall asleep at the appropriate hour; he didn’t even have enough time to do more than remove his shoes and outer layer before his eyes had closed.

Surprisingly, unlike most social dinners in Lan Qiren’s memory, it hadn’t been awful. Most of that had been thanks to Lao Nie, whose exuberance, as he’d suspected, could carry just about any social interaction to victory. After exhausting himself in thinking of ever more increasingly ridiculous toasts and forcing Wen Ruohan to drink them – they’d switched to wine at some point, although to Lan Qiren’s relief neither offered him any – Lao Nie had turned the subject to the type of music appropriate to be played at a wedding feast, and his opinions on music were, as always, so horrifically wrong that even Lan Qiren had been lured into arguing with him.

At some point, the conversation had shifted to the subject of marriage and weddings more generally, though to Lan Qiren’s relief both men clearly considered him too young to have thoughts about his own future in that regard the way his teachers might have. Instead, they’d spoken about the origins of various wedding traditions – there were some that Lan Qiren had thought were set in stone and handed down from ancient times which Wen Ruohan could recall having seen invented within his lifetime, which was a fascinating advantage of age that Lan Qiren had not previously considered.

It was equally interesting to see Wen Ruohan at his most charming. It was not a mask that the sect leader bothered putting on very often, as far as Lan Qiren knew, and it was a mask, one that was a little loose around the edges – even Lan Qiren could tell. Wen Ruohan would say the right words a beat too late, with his eyes a little too focused and his smile a little too sharp to be believed; his quips were a little too cutting and his suggestions just a little beyond the boundaries of common decency, his cruelty and indifference leaking out around the edges of even a casual chat with people he considered friends.

But at the same time, it was difficult to deny that he was brilliant. Regardless of whether he’d obtained his superior cultivation through dark and dirty means or not, he’d been the master of his sect and about a third of the cultivation world for at least a generation already, and no one managed that without being extremely clever and more than a little ruthless.

It made for interesting conversation, if one beset with a constant feeling of danger…

“I hope you enjoyed the bed.”

Lan Qiren nearly jumped out of his skin in fright, spinning around to stare at Wen Ruohan standing just within the doorway to Lan Qiren's room – he hadn’t heard him open the door, nor close it behind him. The other man was in his wedding finery, the brilliant fiery red of his sect turned to joyous purpose, and yet there was something sinister in his self-assured smile.

“The – bed?” Lan Qiren repeated blankly, and glanced at it. “It was…fine?”

“You complained, last time,” Wen Ruohan said, continuing to stroll into the room with his hands clasped behind his back. “Too hard, I believe you said…I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

Lan Qiren vaguely recalled having said something along those lines and blushed in shame. “It’s fine,” he said. “I slept deeply and well. Thank you for your concern.”

“It’s the least I can do,” Wen Ruohan said. “You and I are brothers, are we not? My every thought should be of you.”

That didn’t sound quite right.

Before he could say anything, though, Wen Ruohan clicked his tongue lightly and stood in front of him, looking him up and down. “Your Lan sect’s formal clothing is truly a masterpiece of the embroidered arts,” he said. “A brilliant sight – especially all in white.”

Lan Qiren lowered his head, embarrassed again. If pressed, he would argue that his clothing was a little more silver than pure white, so he wasn’t actually dressed in mourning colors, but it couldn’t be denied that he was much closer than most, making it a little inappropriate for a wedding. Unfortunately, he only owned the one set of formal clothes, and there hadn’t been time to commission another; there was nothing for it.

“I like it,” Wen Ruohan said unexpectedly, his hands settling on Lan Qiren’s shoulders, smoothing out the fabric. Lan Qiren looked up and was caught by that intense red gaze. “My sect colors are red and white, after all – just like the two of us. A matched set.”

His hands burned too hot on Lan Qiren’s shoulders.

“White is a traditional color for the Lan sect as well,” Lan Qiren said, and his voice only quavered a little bit. “Anyway, it’s…mostly grey.”

“White,” Wen Ruohan disagreed. “As pristine as a pearl resting in the palm of your hand.”

His thumbs pressed lightly just by Lan Qiren’s collarbone. There were acupoints there, he thought, although he was having trouble recalling which ones or what they did.

“Yes, a pearl is truly the most apt comparison,” Wen Ruohan mused. “Simple and natural, yet shining with its own luster – I’d thought rubies, to make you fit to my taste, but perhaps pearls will suit you better.”

“I have no need for jewels,” Lan Qiren said, a little alarmed. Had Wen Ruohan really drunk so much the night before that he was still intoxicated, confusing his new sworn brother and his new bride?

“And yet I may wish to give them to you,” Wen Ruohan said. “Surely you won’t deny me – after all, I need to repay you for the charming gift you gave to me.”

Lan Qiren had a sinking feeling.

“Uh,” he said. “You saw it? Already?”

He’d searched the room briefly earlier that morning for the personal gift he’d bought for Wen Ruohan, intending on packaging the bowls away in his return clothing – why hadn’t it occurred to him to simply give it away to one of his fellow disciples, or even to trade or sell it? That way he wouldn’t have embarrassed himself by giving such a simple gift amidst all the opulent luxury of the Nightless City.

It seemed, however, that it was too late for that.

“Oh yes,” Wen Ruohan said, looking amused. “A set of drinking bowls, painted with a flowing border reminiscent of vermilion birds – made by your own hand?”

“I only applied the glaze,” Lan Qiren said hastily. “There was another gift, too –”

“I have dozens of golden crowns of better make and greater utility,” Wen Ruohan said dismissively. “Such a heavy thing. If you told me that you’d picked it yourself, I wouldn’t believe you.”

“No, I did pick –”

“Without constraint? Or from a selection of predetermined choices, each one deemed ‘appropriate’?”

Lan Qiren fell silent.

“Do not tell lies,” Wen Ruohan said, rolling the familiar rule in his mouth as if tasting a wine of fine vintage. “Yes, the guan is a very appropriate gift, neither too distant nor too familiar, too rich or too restrained, perfectly reasonable yet conveying nothing, giving nothing away...I’m quite certain your brother picked it out. But you were the one who picked the bowls, weren’t you? Did you pay for them yourself?”

Lan Qiren felt certain that the conversation was leading to some sort of trap, but he didn’t know what, or how, or how to evade it. “I did,” he admitted. “With my sect allowance.”

“How many months’ worth did it cost you?”

Lan Qiren thought back, calculating. “About three?”

He’d thought to get something nice enough that he wouldn’t lose face in giving it, though naturally he’d underestimated the luxury of the Nightless City. Still, it wasn’t as though he needed the money for much, anyway. The sect supplied him with basic clothing and gear, equipment to tend to his sword and musical instruments, and even access to books; he did not buy himself too many luxuries beyond that. Other than the fees he paid for various sect purposes, it was really only the occasional trinket that caught his eye or rare books on foreign musical techniques that he purchased with his own money.

It wasn’t anything like a sacrifice, not really, but Wen Ruohan still looked pleased about it, smug and satisfied as a cat right after the hunt.

“Three months’ worth,” he murmured, and his hands which were somehow still on Lan Qiren’s shoulders slid inexorably inwards to rest on the sides of his throat. “Even assuming you were extraordinarily parsimonious, little Lan, you could only save a third at a time; that’s nine months of your life that you spent for me. Nearly a twentieth of all the months you’ve lived so far.”

What a strange way to calculate time.

It wasn’t even right, since Lan Qiren had turned seventeen in the interval and that made the interval closer to a twenty-fifth than a twentieth, but also – who thought like that, treating time like a percentage, as if it could be measured and spent like coin? Perhaps it was simply that Wen Ruohan was so old already…and perhaps that, in turn, was why he looked at him so strangely, so unnervingly –

Lan Qiren swallowed, decided he didn’t need his pride more than he needed to get away, and ducked out of Wen Ruohan’s loose grip.

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready or something?” he asked, turning and pretending to fuss with his robes to avoid making eye contact. “It’s the morning of your wedding.”

“Indeed it is,” Wen Ruohan said from behind him. He was standing too close: Lan Qiren could feel his breath on the back of his head. “Tell me, little Lan – little brother. What do you think of my marriage?”

Lan Qiren hesitated.

“The truth, if you will,” Wen Ruohan added. “I would hate for the purity of our relationship to be tainted by misdirection, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to lie.”

His voice was mild and even, almost sweet, and Lan Qiren was abruptly convinced that it was far more threatening than any of Lao Nie’s rages or his brother’s ice-cold sarcasms.

“I think you made it up to distract people from swearing brotherhood with me,” he said, turning back to face his fears and sworn brother, and felt his face go red as he realized how self-involved that made him sound. But it was what he thought, and Wen Ruohan had asked him not to lie. “You made a mistake, underestimated people’s reactions, and Lao Nie yelled at you because it was affecting your reputation and mine, so you came up with a better story and made everyone else believe it.”

Wen Ruohan hummed. “What an interesting theory. You don’t think the engagement was merely kept private before being revealed at an appropriate time?”

“No.” Lan Qiren shrugged. “If I’m wrong, of course, I’m wrong. But you asked what I thought.”

“Is that why you got me a gift?” Lan Qiren, surprised, glanced at Wen Ruohan, who was still smiling. “To thank me for clearing up the mess I made of your reputation?”

“I got you a gift because you’re my sworn brother, and you’re getting married,” Lan Qiren said, bemused. “What does my reputation have to do with anything? You’re not the one making everyone gossip, and even if you were, you cleaning up something you did is only what you should do. I don’t see what one has to do with the other.”

This time, Wen Ruohan gave a little huff of amusement, and he sounded almost surprised. “Charmingly blunt.”

“You told me not to lie or misdirect!” Lan Qiren exclaimed, feeling betrayed.

Now Wen Ruohan was chuckling in earnest. “Ah, little Lan,” he said. “Someone is going to get you into trouble one day, and it may very well be me…you’re right, you know.”

“What?”

“About the wedding,” he said lazily, and put a hand on top of Lan Qiren’s head. “Both in terms of motivation and timing. You’re entirely right, except for one part.”

“What part?”

His fingers tightened, the too-sharp nails digging into Lan Qiren’s scalp and pulling at his hair until his head was forced back to look up at Wen Ruohan.

“I didn’t make a mistake,” Wen Ruohan said. His eyes were boring into Lan Qiren’s own, the pressure of his will strong, as insistent as his voice. “You were not a mistake, little Lan. You’re mine.”

“Of course I am,” Lan Qiren said, suddenly irritated for no reason he could tell. “Your sworn brother. Doesn’t the whole world know it by now?”

“Mm. I suppose they do.”

“And on that note,” Lan Qiren said, “what are the terms, anyway? I never got to see them.”

“The – terms?”

“Of our brotherhood! My brother confiscated the paper you gave me before I could look it over, and naturally I don’t remember, so you have to give me another copy. I think I’m entitled to one, since I’m a part of it, and presumably you did the drafting. Was it one of the classical oaths? Which clauses were included? Provisions? Curses? Was there any consideration of – stop laughing!”

Wen Ruohan had released Lan Qiren’s hair in order to brace himself on the wall, he was laughing so hard. Laughing with big laughs that came up from his belly and stuck in his throat, and no matter what Lan Qiren said he didn’t say one single thing in response. Lan Qiren eventually gave up with a huff and stormed out.

Let the irritating bastard be late to his own wedding, for all he cared.