#if i lived alone i dont even think i could afford food right now

[gl1tzh]

im not a business major, heck im barely an adult and dont even know how to pay taxes, but one thing i know for sure: watcher is NOT gonna profit from this decision. it's bound to just make them all lose money.

i understand all their reasons but this idea is bad, like, bad awful. who even approved it???

[friendlovermother1980]

Grat Journal

Today I feel grateful that we began couples counseling this week. I have been wanting to do this for awhile and I really needed something that I could feel like as a positive direction for our relationship. I know things are tough, but I need something that says they are moving forward and effort is being made, so Devin just being in the counseling with me made me feel like that. I am also feeling very appreciative for many things, my presidents scholar award, Devin being kinder this week, the housing looking ok right now even though I still have worries, my next counseling scheduled with Devin next week, the trip to Sacremento for the CSU conference, possibly seeing and hanging out with Alisha and others from school, and for talking more with my mother lately. 

If I was to use a couple of gratitude prompts I will start from the beginning. 

What is my happiest childhood memory? 

Some of my happiest were just spending time with my Grandpa. Whether it be at the grocery store getting a color book and going to rent a movie, or holiday days in his house, I don’t think I ever felt more loved and just able to be a child, than when I lived with him. 

What is one of your favorite songs from childhood? 

It could be like Crazy by Patsy Cline since it reminds me of my grandmother and good memories at Easter, or it would be My mother from Alvin and the Chipmunks Chipmunk adventure, because it made me feel like I wasn’t alone in missing my mothers so it emphasized with me, or Journey Dont stop believing or wheels in the sky, because it was songs that my father recorded from prison and sent to me, or Dirty dancing sountrack hey baby.. because it reminds me of childhood with my grandpa in Missouri spending time with my cousins, fireflys and the movie just came out

Things I am grateful for:

My wife, my kids, my family members, my animals, shelter, food in my belly, villasport, going to SJSU, the ability to pay bills, good friends, the ability to afford to go experience new things, and many past wonderful memories. 

[morgana-ren]

SUBMISSION: How about a nasty sweaty incel shiggy waiting everyday for his dad to go to work so that he could have his relief with stepmom? 

Excellent submission! Love that. Love that a lot! I find it only fair to warn you, however, that I won’t be doing mommy kink for it. Mommy kink is one of my squicks, and one of the very, very few I have. I’ll do the closest thing to it though: Daddy kink. Also I find the irony of him making his little stepmom call him daddy to be absolutely hilarious.

Also this one is a great concept and I love it but it’s going to have to be a multi-parter cause it got a little bit long. Lemme know if you like the concept and I’ll continue it. Also this posted under anonymous for some reason so cheers to tumblr and its endless fucking glitches that it never fixes or seems to make any better.

Warnings: Noncon, dubcon, sexism, really gross incel behavior, nsfl things, masturbation, violent sexual fantasies, nefarious planning, horrible suggestions from even more horrible friends, absolute LOATHING of family, and entitled bastard.

There is only one thing on this planet that Tomura hates more than his father.

Only one thing can even compare to the level of abject disgust he has for his dad. Everything about the man is abhorrent and degenerate, only tolerated because Tomura is, admittedly, a NEET, and had no where else to go after graduation. But if anything- anything- could hold a candle, it would be his taste in women.

All women are trashy on some level, but his dad really manages to find ones that pretend so hard that they aren’t. Vipers behind the veneer of smiling faces clad in red lipstick and smart skirts. Always “kind”, always “thoughtful”, and always fleeting. Fickle, stupid bimbos charmed by his dads surface level charisma to quickly realize just how shallow the pool became.

Even his own mom was like that: She fucked off once she realized staying with him meant staying with his dad, and that was a sacrifice she wasn’t willing to make. So she left him to rot in this cesspit with his worthless father and no other way out.

He figures he can’t hold it against her, not as much as he’d like. A few weeks with his shriveled up paternal figure and most women quickly figure out they can do so much better. It’s in their nature to seek out the best, and that certainly isn’t Kotaro; A bumbling idiot with nothing to offer on the best of days. They don’t know any better, so they never last long after being brought home to meet his son, and those are the ones that even make it that far.

So when he starts yammering on about meeting yet another skank and how ‘in love’ he already is, Tomura’s eyes roll so far back in his head that he swears his retinas will detach. He makes a point to be around as little as possible, but somehow still manages to catch an earful about his latest fling and how excited he is for Tomura to meet her.

Great.

True to his word, Kotaro brings you home one evening, eager to impress his son with his latest catch.

His father had a lot of nerve dragging him from his room to meet you- his latest glorified slut. Adding insult to injury, you had the unmitigated gall to talk down to him like you were an adult and he wasn’t. Even though you had to crane your neck to look up and greet him, you still talked at him like he was some child. So different from you even though you were so much smaller than he was- barely even a few years older than he is, if even that. 

So polite, introducing yourself and gently shaking his reluctant hand, making a point to smile at him and telling him how happy were to finally meet him and that you’d heard so much about him. Your hands were so soft, so little in comparison to his own. He dwarfs his pathetic father, practically towers over you, yet you still talk to him like you’re the adult in the equation.

So young, so pretty, though. Far better than anything his father had a right to pull. They weren’t exactly swimming in cash, the house was nothing in particular to gloat about, and he’d done enough eavesdropping around late at night to know his father suffered a particular… ailment, so it certainly wasn’t sexual satisfaction keeping you around. What was it then? 

Probably nothing. You’d probably run off in a few weeks like they all do.

Kotaro is a worthless sack of drooping skin and aging bones; A ghost of a man not worthy of the phantoms he’s seen pass in his years. No longer the dominant male even in his own home: not with a stronger, more virile son coming into his prime under the roof as well. A beta male at best, withering away while his own son eclipses him in strength and intellect and physique. Tomura is in his mid twenties and blooming- His father… who even knows. He doesn’t care- he doesn’t bother to keep track. 

So, maybe you really are just a dumb little whore. It would make sense. Father dearest always had been a dirty old man; A raging pervert with wandering hands and lingering eyes. Always sets his predatory sights on some cute thing too good for him. 

Then again, the poisoned apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, now does it?

You’re cute enough you could have gotten some alpha at your beck and call, yet you’ve attached yourself to his worthless father who, in turn, parades you around like his most beloved trophy. Taking you to dinners he can’t afford despite your ‘insistence’ that you be allowed to pay, buying you things you claim you don’t need. Oh, how the moron dotes on his whores as if it’s enough to keep them anchored to him.

Strangely though, you don’t run off.

If anything, you sink your claws in even further, getting more and more comfortable and showing up more and more. Every time Tomura leaves his fucking room- which isn’t often- you’re there around the corner, smiling dumb and pretty and greeting him politely.

Fuck, he hates you. Hates your stupid voice, your shitty dresses, hates hearing his father happy for once.

It’s no surprise- but unwelcome no less- that he’d move you in sooner rather than later. Terrified to let you out of his sight for even a second lest you come to what little senses you have in your tiny brain and dump him. Of course, he’s quick to take on all of your burdens as his own, even if it means working overtime to support you. He’s always wanted another little housewife, and now he’s so close.

Tomura listens in on the whole conversation feeling sick to his gut.

You beg him not to- offering to pay your own way just like a good girl, but of course his dumbass dad will hear none of it. He’s more than happy to spend a couple of extra hours at work. His dad is so idiotic, so fucking blind. He’s playing right into it. He’s willing to be your workhorse if it means keeping you all to himself.

He’ll hear none of it. None of the fussing or the questions. You’re welcome in his home, he wants you there. It’s no imposition at all, he knows the house will be better with you around.

Except he forgets one crucial detail-

The son he leaves home alone with you every single day when he leaves. 

You’re nothing but a nuisance, something infringing on his private space. The time he used to get home alone to spend to his own devices is now split with you flittering around the house doing whatever it is bimbos like you do. Cleaning, cooking, pretending to read, whatever. He doesn’t have to see you if he doesn’t want, sure, but he still knows you’re there and that’s more than enough to annoy him.

It’s almost like you catch on to his animosity after a while. The way he won’t greet you back, the way he utterly ignores your existence. It bugs you, and as far as he’s concerned, good.

You try to slip him up, try to get close to him and make him like you. You always set a place for him at the table even after Kotaro repeatedly insists- truthfully- that he’ll never join for dinner. Even then, you always bring the plate to his door. He never bothers to answer- not after the first few times when he only opened it a sliver to see your stupid smiling face. After that, he didn’t bother answering. He’ll eat it of course- won’t pass up free food he doesn’t have to leave his room for- and then leave the dirty dish back outside where you left it. You brought it, after all. You can clean it up. 

All your efforts only get you mocked, and boy do you try so hard to get his affection. He even overhears you whining to his dad once or twice, not understanding why he doesn’t like you.

It makes him smile.

His friends- online of course, but still friends or comrades or kindred spirits or whatever- have more opportunistic ideas about it. His first post to the forum complaining about the new living situation was met with envy and awe- not necessarily the response he was expecting, though looking back on it, he supposes they were right. 

lmpwrst: Why u bitchin’? Ur living with a girl ur not related to and that’s closer than any of us have gotten u ungrateful ass

KingKockRool: Go jerk off on her pillow.

Stacystabber91: take a video hold her down and fuck her then idiot

KingKockRool: No wait till she’s sleeping and jerk it on her face

st8lker: Bet she’s ugly tho if she’s dating your dad lol

Oddly enough, he doesn’t agree. That’s one thing he understands about you, loathe as he is to admit it. His new ‘stepmom’, for all her annoyances, is pretty easy on the eyes. The kinda girl that would have caught his eye in an unrelated situation and earned a permanent spot in his spank bank. Thinking about it, the whole ‘dating his dad’ situation maybe threw off his judgement more than he realized.

He’ll let the jury decide: He finds a photo on your social media, crops everyone else out of it, and hits enter. Easy peasy. He saves it to his hard drive for later too. Might as well.

‘Here, you decide then.’

Thus the shitstorm begins. 

st8lker: Oh fuckkk fuck me mommy lmao

lmpwrst: Opportunity is wasted on u

Stacystabber91: you pussy punk bitch, i stand by what I said earlier. dont be a bitch and fuck the little cunt already

VolceliSwear: Whos the bitch

lmpwrst: Scratchy’s new stepmommy lol 

VolceliSwear: Nice. Hit it yet?

Stacystabber91: he hasn’t cause he’s a gigantic fuckin pussy like i told you all

VolceliSwear: Come on dude you actually have that gash sleeping in your house and you haven’t made a move? 

Stacystabber91: it’s not like she could say no cause you’re a big lanky bastard aren’t you? that’s one thing we got over the shortcels and you’re bigger and stronger than her so take what’s yours idiot or I will 

lmpwrst: I agree with SS lol U complain all the time about not having a hole to fuck and now u do

VolceliSwear: ^^ Isn’t your dad a limp-dicked prick who can’t get it up? Someone’s gotta do it so it might as well be you. Hit the bitch so hard and fast she doesn’t know what way is up

Stacystabber91: and send pics moron I want to see tits or I’m coming over there to do it myself

It’s an… intriguing thought. To be honest, he’s never actually considered fucking you before. Had the passive thought like he does with most girls he sees, but never stopped to think on actually doing it. For some reason, there was a mental wall between him and his father’s girlfriends. But why should there be?

Depraved little bastard that he is, he’s not above cornering a girl and forcing himself on her but he’s not keen on going to jail, so he’s never escalated past creepy photos and following the occasional broad a little too closely. Maybe a couple gropes in passing… okay, maybe a lot. But he’s never gotten caught- maybe the girls don’t report it or just couldn’t find him afterward. Either way, it’s all worked out so far because he doesn’t cross certain boundaries.

Most girls are repulsed by him and his repugnant behavior, so they stay far, far away. It’s like he’s a giant blaring warning sign that they tend to heed instinctively.

But you don’t. 

This is different. You live here, so close to him, so within reach. Just how close you are. How easy it would be for him to force you down and make you take it. Just how much time alone he really has with you since his father leaves and returns like clockwork. He’s got the entire day once his father leaves for work. And all night once he takes his sleeping medication. An easy, pretty little catch already wiggling in his web.

 ‘Maybe I will.’ 

That’s how it starts. 

Snowball into snowstorm.

With an idea and a lot of goading from his online buddies, a monster is born and weaned on his own depravity and escalates into something very real, and very dangerous.

Tomura is achingly familiar with the scene- he’s seen enough porn to give him ample ideas. But he’s got all the time in the world. It’s hard not to rush things considering how eager he is, but it’s safer to test the waters first. Get you nice and scared so you’ll keep your pretty mouth shut unless he tells you to open it for him. See how far he can get, how much he can toy with you before you finally catch on.

Who knows? Maybe you’ll fuck him willingly. You are a stupid little slut, after all. Most of you females are deep down beneath that holier-than-thou, stuck up bitchiness you hide behind.

So he starts with a time honored tradition. He steals your panties. 

The bathroom is cluttered with your shit. Your fruity shampoos and conditioners, your makeup, your perfumes. Tomura has a toothbrush and a comb he doesn’t use, a bottle of 3-1 for when he forces himself into a shower, and a singular gray towel, but the rest is between you and his father. Your body washes, your scrubs, your clothes in the hamper. 

It’s easy enough to fish out a fresh pair- only a couple of hours old. Some lacy contraption you must’ve been wearing beneath your clothes and carelessly left in the bin when you showered. It’s easy to pocket them before you hear him rummaging around, and maybe you’ll miss them, but that’s not his problem. Washer eats things all the time, doesn’t it?

He’s hidden back in his room, safely dodging you before he allows himself to indulge- Bringing them to his nose and inhaling the doubled fabric of the crotch so hard that it catches on the edge of his nostrils. 

Fuck, your cunt smell good- tangy and sweet but the tiniest hint of bitter. A couple of whiffs is enough to get his cock twitching, inflating into a painful hardness as he hears you walking around outside in the hallway. Shit, you’re so fuckin’ airheaded, walking around so oblivious as he tongues at the cloth that was nestled right up against your pussy until a few hours ago. He can taste you, sucking your left over essence through his teeth and he swears he’s going to cream all over the inside of his jeans if he doesn’t jerk off right now. 

He’s quick to drop his sweats and sprawl on his bed, thumbing the tip of his prick and licking gratuitous stripes up the slim of your discarded panties with his tongue. You’d look so good sucking his cock; On your bruised knees, face a slathered mess of cum and saliva and running makeup. Bulge in your throat from taking him so deep and trying so hard to please him like you always do- or maybe avoid a painful punishment because he isn’t above using his hands on you and you learned that the hard way.

The thought of your ruddy, soppy face makes him throb- fucking your wet little throat until you’re suffocating, pulling out to let you breathe only to cum on your face. Yanking you up to bend you over the stove and force you to make his worthless father’s dinner with his spend tacking across your face and his cock lodged deep in your cunt. Worthless fucking sack of shit that his father is, he’d spit in it too and make you serve it to him with a smile while your actual daddy watches you do it and rewards you later with his dick fucking you between your tits.

Fuck yes, that’s what he’ll make you do. He’ll make you call him daddy when he creampies you- the opportunity is too perfect to pass. He’ll fuck his father’s pretty whore as she screams and moans for daddy’s cock while his father is away at work to pay all her frivolous bills like the beta-cuck he is. None of the work and all of the reward- as it should be.

It’s not like Kotaro can fuck you, and his friends are right. Someone should. So why not him? Why not spread your legs for your boyfriend’s younger, more powerful son? Oh, sorry, did he give you the illusion that you had a choice? He’ll take what is rightfully his and there’s not a fucking thing you or his pathetic fucking father can ever do about it.

He plucks your panties from his face, moving them instead to work over his cock. It would feel so much better if you were wearing them- grinding your sweet little cunt against his dick, begging him not to fuck you but getting so wet all the same. The silky fabric feels so good against his hypersensitive skin, coupled with the clenched pumping of his fist as he daydreams about railing you into his filthy mattress until you’re too weak to even move on your own, his cum dripping from every one of your used holes. Limp, useless little whore too fucked out to even fight him as he fucks her in the ass again-

Fantasies swirl in his head, flashes of scenarios that tease him and work him into a frenzy. He’s going to cum hard to the thought filling you, your agonized face as the tip of him knocks against the opening of your womb, buried so deep in your cute pussy that he can feel the wall that keeps him firmly locked out of your guts. So close, so tight, so warm. He’s going to pump you full to the brim like the skank you are, fill you nice and thick full of his seed and then use you again and again and again-

He feels it in his spine, waves of pleasure furling at the base and congealing together impossibly tight, so ready to burst. His thighs flex, muscles in his stomach tightening and breath staggering. Searing white behind dry, clenched eyes and his cock twitches in his palm, knot bursting deep between his legs as his hand stills momentarily. His hands twitch, cock throbbing as thick ropes of cum spill over the slats of his fingers, splattering his stomach and the waist of his sweatpants and all over your adorable little panties. 

“Shit-” 

Shallow, shaky breaths, still seeing stars popping behind his eyelids. Fuck, he hasn’t cum that hard in- well, a very long time. Is it the thought of having something tangible soon? His very own cunt to abuse? Grinning, he looks down at the absolutely drenched pair in his hand, sticky with fresh seed.

He thinks so.

Instinctively, he wipes the excess off his fingers and onto his dirty, rumpled black sheets, swiping across his shirt and his skin. Just another ‘mystery spot’ among the rest, soon to become a crusty, flaked white stain on the fabric among all the preexisting ones.

With some effort on his part, he sits up, still trying to catch his breath. He thought post orgasm clarity might deter him from this path, but if anything, he’s even more determined now. Why should he sit and touch himself in a dark room when there’s a perfectly good set of holes to fuck wandering around freely outside?

Oh yeah, this should work out just fine.

There’s a knock on the door while he’s still wading through his gross thoughts, softly at first but then slightly more insistent. It jolts him alert, irritating him that he’s being bothered when he’s scheming. He’s already finished the dirty dead, all ready to put himself away for now but it’s still jarring none the less when someone comes around so closely to him wanking. A quick dash at the clock tells him it’s not dinner time yet, so what gives? Why are you bothering him now? Nothing is ready yet.

He tucks himself away and quickly buries your soiled underwear in the pocket of his sweats. Quickly wiping any remnants on the knees of his pants before swinging his door open, agitation palpable as he greets your stupid, sunny face.

Speak of the she-devil.

“Hi, Tomura! Just wondering if you have any laundry or anything you want me to take!” “N-”  He’s about to slam the door. About to. But you know what? You want his laundry? Sure. He’s got some for you.  “Yeah- yeah, sure.” 

He steps back from behind the door, letting it creak open a little as he rips off his freshly re-soiled sheets.

“Oh, good! Yeah, I’m throwing in my own so I’ll take your load too-“

Yeah you will.

Balling it up, he chucks it at you as you curiously peek your head in. You’ve never seen the inside of his room, but soon you’ll see plenty. He doesn’t know if you can feel the fresh cum on the sheets, but he’s willing to bet you can probably smell it. To your credit, you barely falter, even with the sheet cradled in your bare arms.

You’re probably having a moment of “understanding.” ‘He’s a young man with no girlfriend and no other outlet. Of course he’s going to wack off’ and all that. It’s cute, the way you pretend not to notice. That’s okay, he’ll give you something you can’t ignore.

He steps up to the door again, yanking his black shirt over his head and dropping it in your arms with a shit eating grin.

“Oh- okay, yeah-“

Your sentence halts completely as he starts to strip off his pants and you’re left staring in slight horror as your stepson strips down to his boxers in front of you before placing his sweats on the top of the pile you’re carrying- right by your face.

“I’ve got some more dirty boxers if you think you can handle anymore.” He’s grinning like a fiend, reveling in your poorly concealed discomfort as he leans against the doorframe, swinging out towards you. You’re backing away from him, desperately trying to keep your eyes up and away from his very exposed body, and especially the half hard cock tenting the front of his boxers. Your face is turning a viciously dark shade, stifling your breathing because he just knows what you’re refusing to see, you can almost certainly smell.

“Um- nope! This should be a full one! I’ll get them back to you soon!”

“Oh, take your time. No rush.” 

You scurry off down the hall much quicker than your usual casual walk, probably to scrub your arms clean with iron wool. Poor little thing, just trying to be nice and this is what it gets you.

He cackles something fierce as he shuts his door again, going to look for your ruined panties to post a pic but remembering they’re still in the pocket of his sweatpants, covered in his cum and saliva. A fun little surprise for you to find when you go through pockets to ensure nothing gets stuck in the washer.

And he notices, in the coming days, you stop leaving your clothes in the hamper- or even being able to meet his eyes.

Oh, this should be fun.

[manonblaqkbeak]

Motel Living

this idea would not leave me alone, despite me having like three other fics barely done. it is very random. i dont even know what to say lol.

2554 words

enjoy!

Today was officially the one month anniversary of Aelin moving into a three-star motel. She did not think she'd be here for long, a couple of weeks at most, but here she was a month later, and on a Friday night no less. She should have been out with her friends, but she opted to stay inside.

She had to tell herself that she shouldn't complain. That there were people that were worse off than her. Living in a motel was fine.

But it still didn't change the fact that Aelin wished she wasn't living in a motel room. Especially one that was popular with long haul truckers whose snores sounded like chain saws and blenders on the highest level. That right now, down in the restaurant/pub that was only six doors down, an important football game was playing and the patrons inside were cheering wildly.

Aelin missed the house that she had been renting the last three years. Last year she had decided to start saving so that she could purchase the house itself, since it was still on the market since the day she moved in. It was hard, but Aelin was a determined woman and she set her sights on purchasing the house—she felt like she practically owned it anyway—up until the day she received a call from the real estate agency telling her that the house had been purchased and she had to move out.

Aelin disliked crying, but the waterworks started the minute she hung up. She really did love that house. Had created a small vegetable and herb garden to make it feel more homely. Made it hers in the three years she had occupied it.

There was a tiny silver-lining, however, since the new owners were coming from the other side of the continent, she had plenty of time to pack and move out.

But that silver-lining quickly disappeared once she started her search for a new home in-between packing and work. Every apartment, every house, every unit she looked out at was taken by the time she handed in her application. Every inspection starting to become fruitless when she knew that she wouldn't be the one to live in it.

Aelin hadn't realised that the market had become so cut-throat. She knew she was the perfect applicant because in all her years renting she never missed a single day, never received a complaint. Even when the landlord dragged his ass to fix something, Aelin kept her temper in its leash and did not throttle him the way she wanted too.

And as her luck ran out and Aelin had started to truly worry about where she was going to live because while she had multiple people in her life, she quickly realised that she couldn't ask any of them if she could move in for multiple reasons:

Aedion and Lysandra were recently married, and Aelin hadn't wanted to burst their newlywed bubble.

Chaol and Yrene were brand new parents, their baby girl born the day Aelin moved out, and she knew the last thing they wanted was someone else in the way.

Nehemia was in the same position as her, but her parents had invited her back home while Nehemia looked for somewhere else. Aelin's parents were dead, and her childhood home had been destroyed in a wildfire a five years ago, and Aelin had used the insurance money to pay off her debts. She cursed herself now for doing that, but Aelin hated being in debt and she did what she had too.

Fenrys lived in a one bedroom unit and had the worlds most uncomfortable couch, so he was out. And while Fenrys was one of her best friends, she didn't really talk with Connall, his twin. Nor did she often talk with Vaughn.

Dorian and Manon were travelling all over Erilea and Dorian's younger brother Hollin was house-sitting. Aelin couldn't stand Hollin for more than a few minutes at a time and she would rather live in the motel for a year than live in with him.

And then there was Rowan. He had been a close friend for years, until five months ago they decided that they had liked each other too much to keep being friends and officially started dating (at Lysandra and Aedion's wedding, of all places). If they had been together for longer, she would have asked him—but she didn't want to rush anything, because Aelin could so clearly see a future with him and she didn't want to hurt that future by moving in far too early in their relationship.

So that left Elide, her lifelong friend that was more like a sister. Elide was purely on the bottom of the list since she knew her friend cherished living alone after living in a shit-hole with her even shittier uncle—but Aelin knew Elide and if Aelin needed a place to stay, then Elide's door would be wide open. The two had gone to lunch and Aelin had been just moments away from telling Elide everything and asking for a world changing favour.

Until Elide had excitedly announced that Lorcan was going to move in.

And Aelin's plan had deflated. Again, Aelin knew that if Elide was aware of how desperate she was, Elide would invite Aelin to stay, but since Lorcan and Aelin didn't particularly get along, Aelin kept her mouth shut and congratulated her friend for the new milestone in their relationship.

So, all her options completely exhausted, Aelin looked for vacant motels, found that this was the best out of all the options and became a long-standing tenant.

Aelin had managed to keep everyone away from her new apartment by claiming that it wasn't ready for visitors. Most knew that Aelin was house-proud, a trait that she had inherited from her late mother, so they knew that when Aelin was ready, she would invite them.

It was getting hard, however, to keep Rowan away. Each date night and hang out ended up at his apartment and Rowan was becoming curious as to how her new place was looking.

Rowan wasn't judgemental, and he wouldn't look down at her for living in a motel room, but Aelin was the problem; she was too proud to show him her new place. Even when she was at her lunch with Elide, she had to beat down her pride at just the mere thought of asking Elide if she could move in.

Tonight, however, Aelin knew in her bones that Rowan would ask to come over. He had a completely shitty day at work—one that ended up in the hospital because for the first time in his career as a carpenter, Rowan had somehow gotten his hand in the way of his nail gun and shot right through the middle of his palm and was off work until it healed, which Rowan hated the most out of the whole ordeal, since Rowan was the type of person that always had to be doing something.

So when his face finally popped up on her phone screen, Aelin muffled a groan into her pillow (because there was no way in hell she was using the standard sheets the motel provided, she needed her bedding or she wouldn't get any sleep), took a deep breath and plastered a smile onto her face.

“How's the hand?” she asked by way of greeting.

“It'd be a lot better if there wasn't a hole in it,” was his groggy reply. “I just woke up from the longest nap and thought of you.”

“That's sweet of you to say,” Aelin said, “do you want me to come over? I could cook you my world famous grilled cheese.” Please say yes, she thought, please.

“As much as I love the sound of that, I just need to get out of my house,” Rowan said, “I know that you're house-proud and if you don't want me to see it, I understand, I'll even wear a blind fold if that'll make you happy, but I just...” he trailed off and Aelin could see his pained expression even though they were miles apart.

“Seeing all your work tools is making you miserable,” she supplied. Rowan grunted in confirmation. Taking a deep breath, Aelin said, “You can come over, I don't mind. I'd be happy to see you.” And she would be. She'd just have to kick her pride in the corner. “There's a pub right around the corner from mine and the cheeseburgers they have are really fucking good, and I mean that sincerely. Do you want me to get you one? Because I only have snacks and canned food at the moment.”

“A burger sounds good, with extra tomato, please.”

Aelin smiled. “Of course, I'll text you the address, and I'll see you soon.”

After ordering their dinner, Aelin tidied up (even though the space was immaculate) and waited, and waited. When a gentle knock sounded at her door, Aelin took the food from the restaurant worker and was just about to go back in when Rowan's truck pulled up.

Even ten car spots away, Aelin could see his puzzled expression from where she stood. Placing the food on the small, round dining table, Aelin waited by the door and gave Rowan her best smile when he stood in front of her.

His puzzled expression melted away momentarily when she kissed him hello, but it was back in full force when they pulled away.

“Fireheart,” was all he said, and it said everything that he didn't say.

“I know.”

“You're living in a motel room.” There was no judgement in his voice, like she knew there wouldn't be, but it was clear that he was confused about the whole thing. She should have just told him. She loved her late mother, but really hated the fact that she had passed her pride to Aelin. She hated the fact that, deep down, she was embarrassed, even if Aelin told herself that she had no reason to. The housing market was insane, there was no where else for her to go, and that she hated herself for not saving more money to buy her home of three years.

“I am,” Aelin said, “but it's not so bad. It's affordable and clean.” Aelin invited him inside and sat him down the small dining table.

From his spot, he took in the space. Saw the bar fridge that could barely hold a bags worth of cold food, her toaster oven and the dual butane stove she had to purchase because she didn't want to have to use the toaster oven all the time. The tiny closet that held a decent amount of clothes, but didn't make a dent in her considerable mountain of clothes that she had put away in the storage unit she was renting.

None of her candles were in sight and no books either. Aelin was taking full advantage of her library apps, but it wasn't the same. Aelin loved the feeling of a book in her hands, but there was no space and it would have been silly to bring in her bookcases.

“Where's all your stuff?”

“In a storage unit. I considered living in there, but it doesn't have an air-conditioner and this place does.”

Before Rowan could say anything, Aelin turned on the TV, put on whatever movie sounded dumb enough and ate her dinner.

Aelin could see the question burning in his eyes as she stuffed her mouth to avoid answering that very question.

Why didn't Aelin ask if she could stay with him?

Aelin wanted to tell him, she really did, but was afraid that if she showed how serious she was, Rowan might admit that he wasn't as serious as her.

But Aelin knew herself, knew that she was going to tell him at one point or another. She could tell Rowan anything and he wouldn't flinch. It was her own doubt stopping her.

“That really is the best burger I've ever had,” Rowan said when he was finished.

“It really is,” was all Aelin could think of to say. Gods, she felt so damned awkward. The question was still in Rowan's eyes, even as he laughed at the movie and its stupidity. So to avoid it for a bit longer, Aelin took the take-away boxes into the dumpster outback and immediately went for a shower afterwards.

When she came out, Rowan was lounging on her bed, his injured hand laying across his chest, the other arm fiddling with her comforter. Aelin dressed in a shirt that she may have borrowed without asking from Rowan and a pair of sleep shorts.

Borrowing underneath her comforter, Aelin rested her head on Rowan's chest and the awkwardness she felt deflated a bit as he pressed a kiss on her head.

Aelin told him how she ended up here. Including her embarrassment and annoyance at herself. Rowan listened attentively, as he always did. That was one of the biggest things she loved about him, that he listened. And Aelin was in love with him, she knew without a doubt. She was certain she fell in love with him when he danced with her at Aedion and Lysandra's wedding.

When the credits started to roll, Aelin took a deep breath and decided to plunge into uncharted territories. She kept her eyes glued onto the screen.

Aelin decided to bite the bullet. If it all went to hell, she would beat herself up later.

“I don't want to fuck things up with you.” Well, that wasn't how she wanted to start this conversation, but she supposed it was the best way to start off. “I wanted to ask you if I could move in, but our relationship is just so new, and I didn't want to ruin our future, because I can see a future with you, Rowan.” Moving so that she could look Rowan in the eye, Aelin took the deepest plunge imaginable and told him, “I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.”

The smile he gave her was the most beautiful she'd ever seen. “I love you, too, Aelin.” Reaching down to kiss her, all of Aelin's doubts melted away. When he pulled back, Rowan said softly, “If you wish to ask, I'll say yes. Because I see a future with you too. You're the one for me.”

“Rowan, can I move in with you?”

He kissed her again. “Yes, you can.”

Aelin's cheeks were started to become sore from all her smiling. Maybe it was a good thing after all that she ended up living here.

Hours later, after another bad movie and celebrating the new milestone in their relationship (which was mainly Aelin laughing as she rode Rowan because he kept forgetting about his injured hand), Aelin and Rowan got ready for bed, and as Aelin rested her head on his chest again, she said, “Just to let you know, I'm going to replace your mattress for mine, because yours is hard as stone.”

“That's exactly why I'm letting you move in, I'm in the market for a new mattress.”

Aelin playfully whacked his chest and muttered what a buzzard he was, but soon fell asleep with a smile on her face, ready for her future with Rowan.

[jack-o-cel]

I would like to officially introduce one of my OC's that live rent-free in my brain. He's a Resident Evil 8 OC. Even tho he's a fandom OC, he means a lot to me and has grown on me a lot. He's special to me :]

Also please spare me, Resi 8 is my first game in the Resident Evil series.

Forester Vein

Nickname: Ester

Biological Age: 138

Age Appearance: Early 20s

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Gay Demisexual

Place of birth: Norway

Occupation: Miranda's right-hand man. He essentially does her bidding and only takes orders from her. He also has power over the lords but is usually tasked with helping them. Besides that, he's a Botanist.

Family: Both his parents are dead. All he has is his little brother Foxglove, who looks around 7 years old.

Appearance: Forester is about 5'9". He's a twig. He's pretty pale with long white hair (It was originally brown before being implanted with his Cadou). He has light blue faded sharp eyes. He has sharp teeth (an effect of his Cadou). He also wears glasses.

When carrying out his duties for Miranda he wears a white tailcoat with gold accents, a black and white striped vest, a black dress shirt, a white and gold cross tie, black slacks, and black dress shoes with gold accents.

On his own time, he wears a white t-shirt, a beige knitted jacket, black sweatpants, and socks with sandals.

Personality: On duty, he's in what I affectionately call, customer service mode. He's very formal and helpful. He'll hold his tongue. He's Miranda's most loyal servant and does his very best to meet her expectations. On his own time, however, he more casual and sassy. He speaks his mind. Oh, and he hates Miranda with every fiber of his being (which is a lot :3).

In general, he's manipulative, obsessive, and smug. But also caring to those he loves. Would go above and beyond for them. He's a pretty serious and quiet person. Only when he's alone or with his little brother does his playful and goofy side come out. Despite his usual serious attitude, he's very expressive. His most common expression is a mocking smile.

He's very clumsy, especially when thinking about his obsession, whoever that may be. He's borderline yandere (His yandere behavior is a combination of Yuno from Future Diary, and Tsukiyama from Tokyo Ghoul).

Powers/Abilities: Enhanced strength, and regeneration.

Forester can control large thick vines (which look like large tendrils) and all plant life. He can release special pollen that allows him to control plant life (similar to Donna). The vines are different tho. He can control them without his pollen. To understand why first you have to understand how Ester's body works.

His body underneath his skin is made of vines. He also can easily regrow his limbs and regenerate his skin and hair. His vines are an extension of himself. Although his body is his main body, it isn't his core. His core is located underground surrounded by vines and impossible to get to. Vines from the core spread across the village underground. Forester can only go a few miles away from the edge of the underground vines.

The only time his core would be possible to access is when Forester transforms. His transformed state is a 50-foot tall behemoth made of vines. In this state, he's stuck where he transformed. The core is moved to just below the neck area of the vine monster. Fighting Forester is suicide in most cases. He attacks with huge vine tendrils from his arms and the base of the beast. He doesn't tire and his vines regenerate.

There are only two ways to beat him. The first way would involve killing him. You would need large amounts of fire-spreading explosives to slow him down. It makes getting to his core easier, you'll still be getting attacked tho. You'll need to be able to fly (or just about anything that's not climbing) to his core, climbing would take too long. You'll need to plant explosives where the core is sealed away. Once opened, jump in as fast as you can, the vines will close shut rather quickly.

The core is a large amber sphere. it's soft and gooey when touched gently, but if you were to attack it, it would harden. Inside the core is the shape of a man in the form of vines. That's where Forester's brain and Cadou is. Destroying that kills him.

The second method requires cooperation with Forester's brother, Foxglove. This method is to non-lethally beat him. In this method you cant use explosives, Fox won't agree to help you otherwise. You'll need a team to pull this off. You need someone, or a group, to distract the majority of the vines. You'll need a way to get to the core and something strong enough to pry open the vines long enough for Foxglove to enter where he'll take care of the rest. This method saves Forester, but kills Foxglove.

His Area: Just like the four lords he has his own area. You'll need the six-winged unborn vine key to unlock the gate that leads to his garden lab. The lab is outside with a greenhouse nearby. It's a small area. Most, if not all, would miss the entrance to his underground lair.

The underground area is seven floors down with an arena to the right of all the floors. You can peek inside the arena through 5 of the sub levels. sublevel 1 is above the arena, while level 7 is where the entrance to the arena is. The arena's ceiling is about 60 feet tall. It's used for testing Miranda's experiments abilities among other things. Forester uses it to test and train his own abilities (which is why the ceiling is so high :3).

From the main entrance to the bottom level is a spiral staircase. Each sublevel has a floor gate on the steps with a unique lock. To continue you have to find the key somewhere in the sublevel. Each level has its own tactics and enemies. They're all based on the five senses. Also, before entering you will be disarmed, one way or another.

Sublevel 1 - normal. There's an elevator on this floor locked behind a door that requires the vine key, that only Forester, and his little brother (who i'll talk about later in the post) have. The elevator goes to each level by going through hallways behind the arena walls.

Sublevel 2 - enemies that rely on sight. It'll be essentially hide and sneak kinda gameplay. If you get spotted you have to run out of sight and into a hiding place. You cant be seen going into a hiding spot.

Sublevel 3 - enemies that rely on hearing. You have to explore as quietly as possible. If a chase scene happens you have to hide in a special safe room.

Sublevel 4 - enemies that rely on smell. You'll have to regularly step into ponds that have a special substance inside that masks your scent into smelling like the enemy. But you can't get too close to the enemies there. They'll be able to identify you if you're too close. There are special rooms filled with an overwhelming amount of scents that the enemies wont enter.

Sublevel 5 - the enemies there rely on touch. They have long arms and hands that sweep across the floors. All you gotta do is avoid them. Harder said than done tho. The enemies can sense vibrations =). Dont move too erratically. Simple fast movements are best. Since they're rather big, they cant fit inside some rooms.

Sublevel 6 - The enemies here rely on taste. The key in this level is at the end of a large room that's packed with enemies with long tongues. They interact with their tongues. If they taste a human they'll attack. You have to explore the rest of the level for a vine suit to disguise as one of them. A few enemies roam outside the crowded room tho. They whip their tongues around them. It's a pretty wide radius, but it's not fast. To get past them you gave to see the whip pattern. There are no safe rooms or hide spots, besides the merchant room, in this level.

Sublevel 7 - All the above (with Forester roaming around as a treat =3)~

Arena - Boss Battle =))))))

Story: Forester was born in one of the poorest areas in Norway. His parents barely had enough to feed him, and themselves. When Ester was 10 he found a job at a garden owned by an old wealthy woman. To get the job he had to pretend to be rich. He did a lot of stalking to learn the behavior of rich kids his age; he got very good and stalking and slipping on a mask. He also stole clothes and food to look the part. The old lady was none the wiser. For 6 years she believed in his carefully constructed lie.

The old lady happened to have no living relatives, with no one else to give her wealth and belongings to, she gave it all to Forester when she died; He was 16. With his newly acquired wealth, he gave his family a comfortable home, with everything they could need and want.

Forester had always wanted to attend school, but could never afford or have time for it. Now that he could, he immediately enrolled. It was incredibly difficult. He was somewhat educated, he'd stolen books in the past and taught himself, but he was still incredibly behind. Regardless he tried his best and spent countless nights up studying. Eventually, he was able to do more than catch up, but surpass many of his peers.

After graduation, he went to college out of his country where he majored in botany and aimed for a PhD. He met Miranda in college. They had a few similar classes and got along well. Eventually, they became close friends.

After graduating from college they both went out to do their own thing, but kept in touch and traveled often together. Eventually, Forester decided to work as her assistant and learn from her.

In his early 30s, he took in his little brother, Foxglove, after their parents died. Foxglove was around a year or two years old at the time. While raising his brother, Forester felt a void in him filled. He had someone to love and take care of. Someone he could trust and love unconditionally. Both Foxglove and Eva got along well and played often together.

When Eva died, Forester was there to support his closest most trusted friend. When Miranda found the megamycete she went to her friend and explained what happened and her new plan. Forester, although wary, supported her in any way he could. He refused to go near the megamycete tho.

When he got close to it, Miranda pushed him into it. The megamycete grabbed Forester with tendrils and seemed to absorb him into it.

A few months after Eva died. Foxglove wandered into the forest nearby and found beautiful flowers. Ones that shared his name. Curious the boy ate a few of the flowers. Not too long afterward he came to his brother as fast as he could. He felt sick. Very sick. Fox explained what happened to Forester. Panicked he quickly tried his best to make a remedy, a cure, anything with what he had. But with no time or sufficient supplies on hand, Foxglove died in his arms.

It broke Forester. The void from before returned, larger than before. He desperately turned to Miranda for help. Miranda smiled, with something malicious behind her smile, and told him to go to the megamycete.

Inside the megamycete was an indescribable experience. While inside Ester could feel his body painfully changing. It also awoke something hiding deep in his mind. Something he was forced to forget. Miranda had been brainwashing him for years as an experiment in creating a truly loyal servant. He could feel his anger overwhelm him. He thought they were friends. He thought he could trust her. She knows things about him that he never said out loud before. He was hurt, betrayed, and pissed. Forester was determined to confront her, make her pay.

With his mind quieter, Forester remembered his brother. He found Miranda and approached her carefully and asked where his brother is. Miranda took him to an unmarked grave in the forest. He broke down. Miranda interrupted him, and asked him what he was going to do. Was he going to continue to wallow in despair or try to bring Foxglove back?

He clawed his way out of the megamycete. He felt heavy, but he continued. Eventually, he broke through after weeks of being trapped. With him a giant sphere like object covered in vines emerged. Upon inspecting it, he quickly realized what it was. He could believe what he saw. He had to hide it, and fast. He had looked down and had an idea.

He felt a newfound power within him, and with it, he sent his core deep underground where its vines would grow and spread. With his core safe he confronted Miranda. She initially tried to kill him, but found the effort futile. Instead, she spoke a series of words. Forester blacked out.

When he awoke he was sitting in a chair in Miranda's lab. Miranda was nowhere in sight. Desperate to find answers he returned to the megamycete. Touching it revealed the truth. When he blacked out, he was still awake, but he wasn't himself. He saw as he answered every question Miranda asked and did exactly as he was told. He calmed his growing anger and thought carefully. He needed a plan to bypass her brainwash effect.

Soon he began working on his lab and lair. He worked tirelessly on ways to bring back his brother. After years of research and testing, he was able to make an exact copy made of foxglove flowers. Forester not caring that what he created was a copy, embraced the boy and accepted him. Ester explained to the new Foxglove who he was.

Forester was content. He had his brother back. Still, the void remained. Regardless he could now focus on getting rid of Miranda. By then he had learned how to pass messages and take notes unconsciously. He informed his brother about his situation.

As the years passed, Foxglove stayed physically the same, but his mind grew.

Eventually, during the time that Heisenberg began preparing his army, Forester had Fox give him a letter explaining everything he knew. In secret, the two conspired against Miranda.

Currently: So Forester was created for an rp with one of my closest friends (@plague-doctorz). So what happened with Forester is that a war had started with three forces. Heisenberg's army, William's (Plagues' OC) army, Miranda's one-man brainwashed army, Forester. Will provoked Forester into transforming, according to Foxglove's plan. After dealing with many attack from Forester, the pair, with Lady Dimitrescu's help, formed a plan.

William acted as the distraction. With most of the vines focused on him, Alcina, transformed, swooped in through the middle, while dealing with stray vines, and brought Fox to where the core is. She pryed open the vines. Foxglove stepped inside and forced Alcina to let go. The vines shut closed. Inside Fox opened up the amber easily. Even in a brainwashed state, Forester trusted his brother no matter what.

Foxglove began flaking into leaves and flowers and flew into the crevices of the vines that made up Forester. He was able to snap Ester back to his senses at the cost of his life.

Forester had lost consciousness, and when he awoke, Miranda was already dead. He felt even emptier than before. The hole in his heart got wider when he found out what happened.

Right now, a few months later, Forester is at a state where he's on the brink of snapping. What he needs is closure, and something to fill the void in his heart. But can he have both? Will he even get either?

=)

So this is Forester! Please send me any questions and stuff if youre interested. I love to talk about him! Seriously, he lives rent free in my head.

Oh also, here's a picrew of him while I'm still working on his sketches~

His hair down too, cause im a simp,,,

Also here's Foxglove!

Also here's the link to a playlist on spotify based on Forester: here

one last thing

👉👈 @roxyourworld look what i did~

[i-like-plan-m]

Something I've been thinking about is what if Madame Yu was just a bit more obvious in how much she hates wwx, and wwx ran away from Lotus Pier? It's clear his siblings matter more to him than anything else and he hates causing them strife. If he believes that he's the cause, he'd take steps to make them happy, right? I want to write story about that but I dont think I have the ability. If you ever wanted to write something like that I would be overjoyed to read it! - an0n

[Ao3] [Chapter 1/3]

I love this, thank you!! _____________________

“What are you doing?” 

It was the fear in Jiang Cheng’s voice that stopped him. 

Madam Yu’s last words to him still ringing in his ears, Wei Wuxian pasted on a cheery smile and spun on his heel to face his... to face Jiang Cheng. 

“Ah,” he said on a little laugh. “Jiang Cheng…”

“She didn’t mean it,” Jiang Cheng said desperately, stumbling towards him with a panicked edge to his words. “You know that. She wasn’t serious, it’s just the same stuff as always.” 

“I know,” Wei Wuxian said gently. That was exactly the problem. Madam Yu’s hurled abuse at her children hurt them, and Wei Wuxian was too convenient of an excuse for her to ever pass up. She would never stop, not while he was there to set her off again. 

“You can’t leave,” Jiang Cheng said, curling a fist in the front of his robes and holding tight like he could keep Wei Wuxian in Lotus Pier if he just held on tight enough. 

“Madam Yu is right,” Wei Wuxian said with a sad smile, reaching up to cover Jiang Cheng’s hand with his own. “I’ve spent too long causing trouble for her and the sect to stay any longer. I shouldn’t be a burden for you all anymore.” 

“You’re not a-- did you even tell jiejie? Does she know you’re leaving?” He seized on Jiang Yanli, knowing that she was his weak point. “She doesn't know, does she? Were you just going to disappear?” 

Wei Wuxian ached at the thought of Jiang Yanli, of never seeing her again or having her hate him for leaving. But Madam Yu had been clear-- she no longer wanted him at Lotus Pier. He’d heard such things from her before, basically ever since he’d been brought back by Jiang Fengmian, but Madam Yu’s use of Wei Wuxian as a way to torment and ridicule Jiang Cheng had only escalated since their return from the lecture at Cloud Recesses. 

Without him, she would have fewer things to be angry about, and less anger to take out on her children and husband. 

“I left shijie a letter,” Wei Wuxian said, swallowing roughly. He reached down to pick up his bag, Jiang Cheng still clinging to him, and took one last look around his room. He hoped whoever got it next appreciated the art carvings, the hidden stash of snacks and alcohol under the floorboard, the small, colorful trinkets he’d collected over the years. 

Or maybe they would get rid of it all, erasing the signs that he’d ever existed here. 

“Then go give it to her yourself,” Jiang Cheng snapped. 

“I can’t,” Wei Wuxian said truthfully. He tried to smile, felt it waver in the face of Jiang Cheng’s betrayed expression. “It’s time for me to go, shidi. Ah, and think of it this way! Now you can have dogs again.” 

“I don’t want the fucking dogs,” Jiang Cheng choked out. “I want you to stay here. You promised we would be brothers, in this life and the next. You promised.”

Yes, he had. But Madam Yu had told him she’d had enough of him taking advantage of their family, of him thinking himself a part of it when in fact he was nothing but a burden. When he did nothing but make Jiang Cheng and by extension their sect look bad. 

So. Better to leave now under his own power before the rest of them started to feel the same, or Madam Yu made Jiang Cheng hate himself and resent Wei Wuxian even more than he already did. 

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say. A thousand words between them and not a single one spoken, their relationship permanently fractured by the competition neither of them had signed up for, that neither of them had ever wanted. 

Wei Wuxian’s presence at Lotus Pier made Jiang Cheng’s life harder. There was no way around the truth of it. 

Jiang Cheng’s grip went slack, as though he realized that this was really happening, that his brother was leaving him behind. Wei Wuxian saw stark pain in his eyes before they shuttered, anger becoming his armor against such hurt. 

“Fine,” he spat, but the hitch in his breath betrayed him. “If you want to leave so bad, then just go.” 

“Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian said, torn to pieces at the anguish in his brother’s voice. “I don’t want to leave you or shijie. But…” 

Jiang Cheng looked away. They both knew the real reason he was leaving. Coming to terms with it would be hard for both of them. 

“I’ll write,” Wei Wuxian offered quietly. “If… if you want.” 

“You’d fucking better write,” Jiang Cheng said, swiping impatiently at his damp cheeks. There was a brief pause, the tension softening into a quiet, shared grief. “Where will you go?” 

“Who knows!” Wei Wuxian said, trying for cheerful and sounding uncertain instead. “There’s a whole world out there, you know. Plenty of trouble to find.” 

Jiang Cheng made a familiar exasperated sound that made him want to laugh. “Weekly letters,” he threatened. “Or I’m coming to find you.” 

Wei Wuxian’s smile was a little more genuine this time. “I can do that.” He hesitated, then added, “Can you…” 

“I’ll tell jiejie,” Jiang Cheng said quietly. 

“Thank you.” Wei Wuxian enveloped him in a hug, squeezing his eyes shut against the tears that threatened when Jiang Cheng gripped him back hard enough to bruise. 

“I will see you again,” he promised, and felt the eyes of his brother watch him leave. 

~*~ 

His new mantle of rogue cultivator hurt a little less when he thought of his parents. They hadn’t belonged to a sect after they married, and he wondered if they’d been happy to freely wander the world. 

His one clear memory of them made him think so. There’d been laughter, and warmth, and a sense of safety and security that Wei Wuxian found himself wishing for during those first few weeks after leaving Lotus Pier. 

Too much freedom, he’d discovered, was a hard adjustment to make. He had no responsibilities other than finding food and water, no duties or chores around a sect, and no sect leader to answer to. 

He’d considered, briefly, going to Gusu. The lecture would be over by now, the guest disciples returned home. He wondered if Lan Zhan was happier now that the Cloud Recesses was quiet again. He wondered if Lan Zhan would even want to see him. 

But after losing his home so abruptly, Wei Wuxian found that he did not want to go where he was not wanted. Usually he wouldn’t pay any attention to it, would not care what others thought of him or his presence, but now… 

Well. He’d been kicked out of Cloud Recesses. Out of Lotus Pier. Neither would welcome him now. Maybe he could go to Qinghe and accomplish the trifecta of banishment. 

The thought would be funnier if he weren’t so cold and hungry. 

There was a trick to surviving as a rogue cultivator, and that was bartering. Larger towns were typically protected by sect cultivators who could banish spirits or ghosts. Smaller villages usually could not afford such services, so they would trade shelter and a hot meal for a cultivator’s help. 

Wei Wuxian hadn’t yet made it far enough away from Yunmeng territory to find these villages. Mostly he hunted or fished to feed himself, and slept out in the open since he couldn’t afford to stay at an inn. It was a far stretch from his days in Yunmeng, never wondering where he would sleep or when his next meal would come. 

He was lost in a way he hadn’t been since a recently orphaned child living on the streets and eating trash to survive. Funny, how these things came back full circle. 

Wei Wuxian poked at his miserable little fire, hunched over it in the fading light within the forest to soak in the weak warmth it emitted. The wood was too wet to truly burn, still damp from the downpour earlier. 

So was he, as a matter of fact. His wet robes clung to him uncomfortably, and he would take them off to let them dry if the descending night weren’t so cold. 

Quiet voices had him lurching to his feet, Suibian in hand as he warily scanned the heavy shadows thrown by the trees. They were coming closer, light footsteps that echoed through the forest and hid the direction of their approach. 

And then white robes bled out of the darkness, his heart skipped a beat in breathless, astonished hope… and then fell at the sight of a stranger’s face. The man’s companion wore dark robes like his own, a curious pair that moved in sync and spoke without words. 

“Our apologies, Young Master. We did not realize there were others so deep into the forest,” the white-robed man said with a polite bow. 

Wei Wuxian returned it, noting with a spark of interest that they carried swords that marked them as cultivators. “No apology necessary. I am Wei Wuxian,” he said, rising from the bow. “I was hunting for dinner and didn’t realize how far I’d walked before the sun set.” More like he’d had nothing to turn back for.

“My name is Xiao Xingchen, and my companion is Song Lan.” Xiao Xingchen looked around his campsite with a mild look of curiosity. “Are you traveling alone?”

“I am,” he said, his smile dimming despite his best efforts. 

Song Lan studied him for a moment, then shared another brief, wordless conversation with Xiao Xingchen. “Do you have a destination in mind, Master Wei?” 

“Ah… no? I’m just wandering,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“You are welcome to travel with us, if you wish,” Song Lan offered. “Rogue cultivating can be dangerous and challenging on your own.”

Wei Wuxian looked uncertainly between them, remembering his recent vow to stop going where he wasn’t wanted. These two were obviously close, and he wondered if he would be intruding. 

“As Song Lan said,” Xiao Xingchen added at Wei Wuxian’s hesitation. “You are welcome to join us.”

“Yes,” Wei Wuxian decided, spirits lifting. “I would appreciate your company.” 

“We are headed for a nearby town,” Song Lan said. “Do you need to rest, or can you make it through the rest of the forest tonight?” 

Wei Wuxian stomped the dying fire out and eagerly grabbed his bag. “No need to wait!” He followed them through the forest, grateful to have their company. The world seemed less lonely all of a sudden, and the companionship was a buoy for his spirits. 

“Have you two been traveling together long?” He asked. 

“We met a few years ago. I was raised in Baixue Temple,” Song Lan said, drifting gracefully over the uneven ground. “And Xiao Xingchen was a disciple of Baoshan Sanren.” 

Wei Wuxian made a startled sound and nearly tripped over his own feet. Song Lan steadied him and traded a look with Xiao Xingchen over his head. 

“Baoshan Sanren?” Wei Wuxian asked, stunned by the reminder that he had family left in the world. 

“Yes,” Xiao Xingchen said, eyeing him with some concern. “Are you familiar with her?” 

“She is my grandmother,” Wei Wuxian said distantly. 

Xiao Xingchen’s eyes widened. “You are the son of Cangse Sanren? Adopted into the Jiang Sect as a child?” Wei Wuxian nodded, and Xiao Xingchen’s surprise morphed into a smile. “Your grandmother wishes to meet you, Wei Wuxian.”

Wei Wuxian was a little surprised she even knew he existed. “She does?” 

“Yes, she does,” Xiao Xingchen said, smile lines crinkling at the corner of his eyes. “I can tell you where to find her, if you wish.” 

What else did he have? No place to call home, no family left other than the immortal cultivator secluded on her celestial mountain-- and the part of his heart that urged him to find her, the only ones left in their line. 

“There is no hurry,” Xiao Xingchen said gently when the silence stretched too long. “You are still welcome to travel with us as long as you wish. Your grandmother is a patient woman; you can take as long as you need.” 

Wei Wuxian swallowed hard and paused to bow to him. “Thank you, Master Xiao. I… I think one day soon I would like to know how to find her.” 

Xiao Xingchen nodded. “You need only ask.” 

Wei Wuxian let the pair lead him out of the dark, unknown forest, with something like hope burning in his chest. 

[wherearemyglassesbro]

If you could put any character into Hetalia what country would they be

Oooo!!

Mexico: OH BOY!! If Mexico isn’t introduced as a woman I will 1000% go bonkers. She has so much potential! Here we go. Mexico is a strong willed woman with curly hair and a confident air around her 24/7. She doesn’t like to speak English so she will only speak Spanish, especially with America, she won’t speak English with him just because. She is very passionate about her country’s rich history and will educate anyone who is interested, she doesn’t discriminate, she’s excited to share her culture with others :) She is very involved with children. She visits orphanages and hospitals to see them and tell them stories! She takes Mexican holidays very seriously and she puts photos of old friends on her alter during Dia de los Muertos to keep their memories alive long after their families are gone, she believes she owes it to them :’) She also has a HUGE passion for quinceneras ooooh my gosh!! She throws about six every year for families who can’t afford big parties, she throws them herself with her own government allowance! She makes the dress, books a nice venue and buys tons of flowers ‘every girl deserves to have her own special moment’ and you can bet that when the girls dance with their dads she has to excuse herself to cry happy tears in the bathroom. She often goes to church and she has crosses and statues of Jesus adorning her house because it makes her feel safe and comforted to have Him there to watch over her. Lastly, she knows she shouldn’t feed stray dogs. She’s been told not to....But she leaves seven dog bowls out at night for hungryc homeless doggies :’)

Azerbaijan: Azerbaijan would be a tall, slender woman with with deep brown eyes. She’s very stylish and has three closets worth of beautiful dresses, especially dresses that are yellow, orange and peach since she thinks they suit her best. She’s a Muslim woman but she doesn’t wear hijabs, they are not very common in her country at all so she doesn’t wear them. However, she has a collection of hijabs in every color just in case she may want to wear one. She’s kind but if she sees people littering or graffiti-ing buildings she will stomp over there and tell them off, she fears no man!! She loves children and goes out of her way to greet them and compliment their clothes or something like that. She’s fluent in many languages and often pretends she doesn’t speak English because she prefers her own language, Russian and French. She is very traditional when it comes to tea culture and hospitality. She’s a wonderful woman who loves her people very much!! :)

Ethiopia: Miss Ethiopia is so strong dude, she can easily toss a man in a river if she wanted to. She says she doesn’t like violence but she does get a kick out of putting men in their place if she has to. She does NOT mess around!!! She can’t stand liars, she refuses to associate with them. She almost always tells the truth, it is very important to her. If the government wants her to lie to her people, she will not. She does not enjoy living in her capital, it’s too stuffy and crowded for her!! And she doesn’t really like modern clothing so she sticks to her traditional clothes, which she mostly makes herself. Her hair is usually very intricate, she spends a long time braiding it. She loves her natural hair and does everything she can to keep it healthy :) She travels all over her country constantly she’s never in one place for too long. She rarely goes to world meetings just because she doesn’t...like to go. She sees them as a waste of time since she could be back at home with her people. She’s very involved with them!! She has a medical license so she helps sick men, women and children who may not have access to medical help. She loves her people so much and has dedicated most of her life to them, she’s selfless and a role model :’)

Greenland: He’s a strong boy who’s about 17-18 physically. He lives close with his citizens and is very social! He’s very involved in the community, more than happy to help whoever needs it! A woman needs help with her baby? He’s there to help! Someone’s stuck out on the water? No worries, he’s gonna go get his boat and help them back to shore! He sticks to where his people are and will move with them. If a city becomes less popular he’ll move to be close to others. When he was young he was alone a lot so staying close to his people is very very important to him! He doesn’t get invited to as many of Nordic events like Iceland does so he’s a bit bitter about that though he’d never admit it.

Jamaica: Miss Jamaica is a very strong woman. She is proud to be Jamaican and will let everybody know it! She goes to church every Sunday and helps out within the church community. Helping the elderly is very important to her, she sees people disregard the elderly a lot in the world so she sees it as her duty to help them! She dedicates Monday and Wednesday afternoons to helping out her elderly friends by cooking, cleaning and just socializing with them especially if they have no other family. It’s stereotypical but she loves when tourists come to Jamaica for Bob Marley’s birthday concert because seeing everyone bond over music and food like that makes her incredibly happy!! She’ll even set up a tent to make food for people too! And speaking of food, she knows how to cook, man!!! She can cook circles around most nations! She puts in a ton of spices and sings while cooking and she invites all of her neighbors over for cook outs as often as she can cause she just!! Loves to cook! And now she gets to share with her neighbors :) She’s a very kind woman but Dont underestimate her cause she can and will beat your ass u_u

Hawaii: I’m not really into statetalia at all but I imagine that Hawaii still has a representation around despite being part of the US. We’ve got another beautiful woman!! She’s about 5’6 with waist length hair that she’s been growing out for years. She is very passionate about conserving Hawaiian traditions so she teaches children the art of hula and passes down legends and stories of the spirits. Her arms and legs are decorated with tribal tattoos that she updates every decade or so since nation bodies reject ink over time. She often attends protests because she doesn’t want her land to be taken over by pipes or buildings. She gladly welcomes tourists, she loves showing off her culture to those who are curious about it because it’s so fun to see their eyes light up when they see traditional dances or fire stunts!

Most of these are women but there are like 4 female nations rn theyre all men which isn’t bad but female nations are even more interesting to me since women are constantly underestimated y’know. I hope I got this right, I did a lot of research first about these places. I think they’re all very beautiful places!!

[ddaengyoonmin]

BTS Friends to lovers series - Jimin

Pairing: Next door neighbor!Jimin x Reader

Genre : Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Tiny bit of dom!Jimin, oral (female receiving) unprotected sex, spanking,

It wasn’t easy moving out on your own.  Figuring out how to adjust to apartment life was rough.  No one had really taught you how to live on your own, and as much as you hated to admit it you had been pretty spoiled your whole life.  Your parents never had you do many chores and always cooked for you even throughout highschool and your first couple years of college.  So here you were moved into your first place, and clueless, standing with all the ingredients to the cupcakes you were about to attempt to make already mixed together realizing you had no sugar.  

You groaned and slapped your face in disappointment at yourself.  Not wanting to waste the food you’d already mixed together you decided to be that cliche neighbor that goes around asking for a cup of sugar.

You laughed slightly at yourself for that, but figured that it couldn’t hurt.  You decided to first ask your next door neighbor, you had never met him but the landlady had mentioned that he was a nice guy who had lived there a few years and that if you needed anything he’d be the one to go to.  So it was a perfect moment to put that suggestion to the test.

You threw on a baggy gray sweater and leggings, since you had been just in your underwear the whole time (Your favorite part about living alone, getting to run around naked!)

With a silent ‘you can do this!’ to yourself you went out the front door of your apartment and turned to your left to the door just a few feet from your own.

You knocked three times, not wanting to go crazy with it, you figured three was a good number.

There was some rustling around and the door swung open and standing in front of you was a young man that actually seemed to be pretty close to your age.  For some reason you had pictured someone much more older but that wasn’t the case. He was wearing a bright yellow shirt and black sweatpants, his hair was a soft pink, his bangs sweeping across his forehead.

He smiled widely at you and casually relaxed his shoulder against the door frame as he looked you over.

“22B?” he asked, and pointed to where your apartment was.

You nodded in return.

“What can I do for ya 22B?” he spoke in a breezy manner.

“Ah, yes.” you had almost forgotten why you even came over to his apartment for a moment “I know this sounds cliche but I was wondering if you had a cup of sugar I could borrow?”

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling in amusement at you, “Very cliche, but yes, come on in” he stepped back from the door and motioned for you to follow him.

His apartment was exactly the same layout as yours, but the way that he had decorated it made it look much more extravagant than your own.

A black leather couch and matching chair sat in his living room around an oval glass coffee table all facing a big flat screen TV.  Black and white paintings and photographs all decorating the walls, matching the quite the sophisticated feel to it all.  It made you wonder what he did for a living to be able to afford all of these things.  You made a mental note not to invite him back to your apartment in fear of embarrassment.

“You have a really nice place” you muttered

“Ah Thank you” he said cheerfully.  You followed him to the kitchen, he pulled out a full container of sugar and handed it to you.  “You can just take it, I’m going to the store tomorrow anyways”

“Are you sure?” your eyes widened at his generosity.

“It's just sugar” he laughed

“Right” you laughed nervously “Well, thank you”

He walked you to the door and you gave him one more thank you with a smile.

“You know you gotta bring me over some of whatever you’re making now right?” he smirked.

“Do you like vanilla cupcakes?”

“What kind of frosting?” he raised his eyebrows.

You gasped “Oh my god, I dont have frosting” you shook your head, upset at your lack of preparedness for your late night baking decision.

21B Let out a loud laugh and rolled his eyes.  “Okay, bring what you’ve started so far over to my place, And we’ll figure this out” the way he spoke was more of a command than a question, but you wouldn’t have said no anyways. You needed all the help you could get.

So you did just that, and the two of you chatted while making cupcakes in his kitchen.  He showed you how to make your own frosting, which turned out to be so amazing that you let out an involuntary moan when you tried it.  Causing him to tease you and joke with you about you having a food fetish.  You learned that his name was Jimin, and he was a part time model who made pretty good money doing that.  You could totally see it, he was the most gorgeous man you’d ever laid eyes on, handsome and beautiful all at the same time.  

You now sat on his couch, stuffing your face with your fourth cupcake as he did the same.

“I’m so full”  you sighed, relaxing back into the couch.  

“Same” he held his stomach and turned onto his side.

“Let's do this again” you suggested excited that you had hopefully made a new friend.

“Ah too soon to talk about more sweets, you’re gonna make me sick” he chuckled

“No I mean just hanging out” you giggled.

He suddenly sat up straight and serious and brushed his hand through his hair, “I-I uh have a girlfriend just so you know y/n”

“Oh, I wasn’t meaning it like-”  you started to backtrack, realizing that it might’ve sounded like you were asking him on a date.

You saw the corners of his mouth start to turn up and his eyes lit up with amusement,

“I was so kidding,” he laughed “But good to know,”

“You ass” you shook your head as he continued to be entertained by the nervousness he’d caused for you. “I really did just mean as friends though” you informed him.

He put his hands up signaling he was done teasing “I know,” he winked “sounds good y/n”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

For the next few months at least twice a week you’d be over at Jimin's apartment, cooking, watching TV, playing games.  It was nice to have him so close and he seemed to almost always be available whenever you were bored.

You were over at his house this night to watch a new movie he rented that he had been wanting to watch and invited you to join him.

The two of you sat with popcorn in your laps enjoying the movie together.  Currently a sex scene was happening, and part of you felt a bit awkward at being alone with Jimin watching this part of the movie, but Jimin didn’t seemed to be bothered by it.

“She’s so quiet, he must not being doing a great job” Jimin chuckled at the TV.

“Maybe that’s just how she is?” you suggested, you’d always been pretty quiet, and though Jimin was only your friend you felt slightly embaressed that he might think you were weird for being a quiet sex partner.

“Nah, no one is that quiet if they’re getting dicked good” he retorted.

“Maybe you've just only been with loud women”

“I’m sensing some slight hostility here” his eyes widened as he faked being afraid of you.  He suddenly slid closer to you on the couch and leaned in close.  “Are you usually quiet?” he raised his eyebrows.

“Ah” you punched him in the shoulder lightly and leaned away from his closeness. “So what if I am!”

“Y/n noo! You’ve never had a good fuck?” he dramatically held his heart and sighed.  

You were getting slightly annoyed at his teasing you, but he seemed to find it funny.

“I’ve had good sex.” you grumbled quietly “Can we get back to the movie”

“You’ve never had good sex.” he shook his head.

“Ahh and how would you know that!” you spoke frustrated.

He moved even closer and leaned into you again.  This time you didn’t move back, trying to show him that you weren’t putting up with his teasing, but instead his closeness made your heart skip a beat and you felt yourself growing slightly nervous at the way he was acting.

His voice dropped to a low and serious octave,

“If you’d had good sex, you’d have been screaming, I promise” he smirked than moved back to relaxing on the couch, and shrugged his shoulders “Its just facts y/n”

“Bet.” you teased, rolling your eyes.

“Bet?” his eyes widened in shock and his jaw dropped slightly, “You mean like…” he pointed to himself and then to you, raising his eyebrows up and down.

You suddenly realized what you’d just implied.

“I-I mean, I was kidding, thats-” you stopped yourself and shook your head. “We’re just friends Jimin”

“Ah but it doesn’t have to be as anything more than friends.  We’d just be two friends settling a dispute, proving a point.  We can even make it a real bet?” he suggested.

You were quiet for some time, focusing just on the movie and wondering if you could pretend that he hadn’t just said that.  Your mind knew that it was a dumb idea, your heart knew you didn’t have feeling that way for Jimin.  But your pussy seemed to be weak due to the fact it’d been so long since you’d had sex, and you found your mouth opening and “Sure” flew out before you could stop it.

“Yeah?” Jimin excitedly grinned “Okay, If I can make you be loud, let's say even scream...then I win and I can ask you to do any one for me.  If you stay quiet the whole time, as you say is just how you are, then you win and you can ask anything of me?”

You sighed, still unsure whether you were making a bad decision but too far deep into the moment to go back on it now.  “Sure” you repeated.

Jimin paused the movie quickly.  “Starting now?” he asked

You nodded shyly, realizing this was really happening.

He let out a low growl and his face suddenly turned serious.  “Get into my bedroom”

You were shocked by his sudden change in demeanor but you complied and walked slowly and nervously into his room with him right behind you.

You went to lay on the bed, starting to take your clothes off.

“Ah ah” he shook his head. “Don’t get undressed quite yet”

You cocked your head to the side in confusion. Jimin motioned for you to come over to where he stood.  You walked nervously towards him.  His face was so serious compared to the Jimin you were used to, and his eyes seemed to have darkened.  He bit his lip and looked you up and down.  Reaching one hand out and sliding it up under the T-shirt you were wearing, pressing a palm flat on your stomach.  He let out a small moan.

“You have such soft skin” he muttered

“Thank you?” you giggled. Then decided if he could do it why not you.

You’d seen Jimin shirtless before, you knew that he was quite toned but you’d never really thought about touching him like this until now.  Until here in his bedroom with his hands caressing your sides softly the way they were now.

You ran your fingers up and down his chest under his shirt.  

He tilted his head back slightly and moaned breathily again.

His head then snapped down and he was suddenly pulling you fully against his body, pressing you to himself with one hand wrapped around your waist and the other now gripping your hair behind your head.

His pupils were blown out and full of want, he was biting his lip and then he shook his head slightly.  “You really want this?” he whispered.

You slightly nodded your head as much as you could with the hand he had on your hair holding your head in place pretty well.

Jimin let out a low growl and instantly was pressing his lips into yours.  His movements were hungry and desperate, you thought maybe he hadn’t been intimate with anyone for a long time the same as you.

He continued locking his lips with yours for some time, only stopping every so often to take a deep breath and look at the fucked out expression you now had on your face.

He started pushing against you, forcing you to take steps walking back towards the bed until you felt the back of your legs hit the mattress.

He pulled back from kissing you and quickly took his shirt off, putting a thumb to his lips as he looked you over, like he was deciding what to do next with you.

“Take your shirt off” he ordered sternly.  You did as he said and grabbed the bottom hem of your t-shirt, pulling it over your head and tossing it aside.

Jimin was smiling and nodding with approval. “Wow.  Yeah. Fuck.” he muttered.

He then wrapped his arms behind you, fiddling with the clasps of your bra then sliding it off and tossing it to the corner of the room.

“Damn” he hissed out, staring at your breasts with wide eyes. “Y/N I’m going to be honest with you.  You have the ideal body type that I’m into.  I’d always thought you might, but I couldn’t really tell with the baggy t-shirts you always wore, but.  Wow”  he continued his wide eyed stare as he brought his hands to cup each of your breasts.

He then pushed you back onto the bed, catching you by surprise, you let out a small yelp, eliciting a chuckle from him.

“Close your eyes” he whispered as he pulled you so your hips were right on the edge of the mattress.  He started to unbutton your pants and slide them slowly down your legs, then moved back up for your panties and taking them off as well.

You heard him drop to his knees and then felt him put his hands on your knees, pulling them apart to give himself access to your dripping center.  A finger slowly started to slide up your slit.  You let out a small whimper and when he reached your clit he started to circle his finger around in a circle, causing you to buck your hips up slightly.  Much to your pleasure his fingers followed your movements, never leaving your sensitive clit.

“I’m gonna make you scream my name” he growled, then suddenly had his head between your legs. His tongue took the place where his fingers were.  Jimin was alternating between flicking quickly and pressing down firmly, his fingers moved to your hole, “So fucking wet for me” you felt him mutter into you as he pushed a finger in, curling it and moving it in and out at a slow speed.  He then pushed in a second finger, and started to pump in and out quickly.

It was almost too much to handle, you’d never felt anything so heavenly.  He really knew what he was doing and you didn’t want to admit it, but no one had ever made you feel this good.  For the sake of the bet you were biting down hard on your lower lip, your eyes squeezed shut trying to stop yourself from making the exact noising that you thought would have been impossible.  But now you were forcing yourself to be quiet instead.

“C’mon y/n” you felt Jimin smile against you “I can tell you’re holding it back.  You don’t have to be ashamed to admit defeat this early”

You shook your head slightly, no, you wouldn’t give in.  As good as it felt, your competitive nature had kicked in.

You could tell Jimin was doing everything in his playbook to make you feel good, to try and make you scream.  It was almost unbearable holding it all in.  

You felt your orgasm building quickly, your hips were bucking up into his mouth faster and more frantic.

“Fuck.” you whispered.

“Can’t hear you” Jimin teased “What was that?”

His fingers had found the perfect spot inside and he knew it, he continued moving that way and returned his tongue to your clit with slow but well placed licks, and that was it.  You felt yourself coming undone under him.  He held your hips down with his free hand and speed up his tongue as you felt the waves of your orgasm flow through your body like a warm light reaching every corner of you.

“Fuck Jimin!” you screamed out.

He instantly pulled his head back, keeping his fingers moving inside of you carrying you through until you were finished.  

“That's what I thought” he chuckled, you opened your eyes and looked down at him, grinning at you and basking in his victory.

“Ah that was just one noise.” you shrugged.

“Oh? So I have to make you yell out my name some more huh?” he smirked.

He quickly stood up and dropped his pants and boxers to the floor.  His cock wasn’t larger than average in length but in girth... well, you were glad that he had warmed you up with his fingers first.

Jimin excitedly jumped to where you were on the bed, hovering over top of you, and planted his soft lips on yours for a few moments before motioning you to move to a better spot on the bed.

“Turn onto your stomach” he ordered.  

You started to get up on your hands and knees, facing your ass to him.  You felt a sting on your backside, “down on your stomach” he growled and smacked your ass cheek again in the same spot.  

You did what he said and you felt him positioning himself behind you as he squeezed your ass with both hands.

You spread your legs apart for him only slightly, giving him access to you.  

The anticipation of having him inside of you was too much, and you found yourself excitedly whimpering out “Fuck me Jimin”

A loud moan fell from his lips at your begging “Yeah baby? You need my cock?”

He started to tease your entrance with his tip.

You nodded.

“Say it” he growled

“Jimin, I need your cock” you moaned

“Good Girl” he praised, and rewarded you with his hard length now pressing into you.  

You let out a gasp at the fullness.

“Fuck you feel so good” he hissed out, then bit his lip as he started to move himself in and out of you.

You felt his hands gripping your ass so hard that you were sure it’d leave bruises, but you didn’t mind.  Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to have a memory of this time with Jimin.

He started to speed up, rolling his hips back and forth in graceful but powerful motions into you.

Your hands gripped the sheets hard and you found yourself fighting back to urge to scream out in pleasure again.

“Fuck y/n.  Just fucking let go. Forget the bet.  Let me hear you” he groaned out loudly “I want to hear you”

At that you realized that the bet should be the last thing on your mind.  This was the best sex you’d ever had and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to enjoy it to the fullest.

“Jimin!” you screamed out, finaly letting go “Fuck, please don’t stop”

You heard him growl and felt his fingers dig deeper into where they gripped your skin.  “Damn, I love hearing you say my name like that.  Do you know how many times I’ve fucking wanted to hear you scream out my name” he grunted out as he continued his thrusts.

“Jimin I’m gonna cum!” you yelled out loudly, not holding anything back.

“Yeah baby? Fuck. Cum on my cock y/n.  I’m gonna cum with you, I’m so fucking close too” he hissed out breathily.

You felt yourself reach your second orgasm of the night, better than your first one, the warm waves more like lightning bolts of pleasure shooting through every part of your body.  Your walls throbbing around him as you came.

Jimin’s thrusts became shaky and he stiffened for a moment, before pumping himself in and out of you faster than he had before. “Holy s-shit y/n, I’m cumming” he moaned out.  From the corner of your eye you could see him tilting his head back, eyes rolling into the back of his head as he came. Kneading his fingers into your ass cheeks as he released inside of you.

“Damn” he chuckled, giving your ass one last playful smack before pulling out of you and rolling onto his back next to you on the bed.

You took in the beautiful sight of his post orgasm glow, his chest moving up and down as he breathed heavily, eyes closed with a grin on his face.

“So...you win” you giggled.

With his eyes still closed Jimin's smile grew wider “I win” he chuckled.

“So you get to ask me to do anything that you want.”

His eyes shot open and he had a playful look on his face “Ooh. I do, don't I.” he winked. “Hmm.  How about you don’t let that be the last time you scream my name out that way, that's what I want” he smiled and closed his eyes again.

“Deal.” you grinned in return, cuddling into him and closing your eyes as an arm wrapped around you.  

How could you have said no to that?

[snow-whiteandred-rose]

How You Met- Jin

A/N: How are you Sunshines? I hope everyone enjoyed MOTS 7. And I hope some of you also checked out Monsta X's first English Album All About Luv. So have reading while reading- Eve

Pairing: Jin x Reader word count:  1,1K

The clock striked 5pm and you were finally ready for leaving work. Quickly you put all your stuff away in the locker and made your way to the bus stop. Your groceries became dangerously low and you had to touch your emergency reserve. Meaning wheat flakes with a hint of milk and a dry toast for breakfast. So you took one stop earlier to get your food restocked. You almost sprinted through the supermarket aisles, knowing exactly what you needed. You couldn't waste any time, because today's evening the long awaited finale of your favourite show would air. So it didn't came in handy that presuming all of your nabourhoud had to go grocery shopping today. Long story short. You waited twice as long at the check out.

,,Huh, it's more than I expected. Wonderful" you innerly eye-rolled. So you hung one back over left and one over your right shoulder. "Its workout. It's a good workout" you thought and made your way to your apartment complex. Huffing and puffing you arrived at the front door and spotted two huge trucks parking right in front of it. "No no no. I dont want any human interaction." you whined as you heard voices coming from the hallway.

"Excuse me, young lady." A middle aged man suddenly said. He was caring a giant statue of a giraffe. A golden giraffe. You couldn't believe your eyes and your gaze followed him as he made his way to the elevator. "What the hell?" you thought. And then you were slightly pushed forward by a box with legs. "Sorry didn't saw you there." Another mover spoke up. "Ehmm sorry. I'm going to leave." The elevator seemed to be permanently occupied by the movers and their boxes and other weird stuff. You catched a glimpse of an artsy lamp and a mixing console. "My gosh, why is it always crazy people, who are moving in here? I guess I'll have to take the stairs then." Re-adjusting your bags you climbed the steps, slowly but steady. On your way to your floor, more and more movers passed your way. Running up and down the stairs like ants. The voices you heard previously became louder and clearer. "How many people are they?" To be fair, you lived in a well established nabourhoud and your apartment was one of the more expensive kind. So you wondered what family could afford such a huge flat, where all of this stuff fits in. "Hyung, have you seen my neck pillow?" Another voice appeared. "Namjoon, please don't put there. It will fall down!" Followed by a loud crash. "Who wants some ramyeon?" a third voice asked. All of them belong to men obviously. You finally arrived in your floor. And not much to your surprise the chaos was taking place there. Boxes over boxes, clothing racks, electronic devices, kitchen utensils and all kind of odds and ends stacked up in the hallway. Between the clutter you spotted three young guys who must be your age. "Where did I put it?" one of them spoke to himself as he searched through a box. "What are you missing Taehyungi?" a blonde haired, smaller guy asked and leaned over his shoulder. "My camera. I put it in here. I wanted to capture a few moments of today." "We'll find it. Let me help you." The blonde one tried to calm him down. He seemed so sweet and caring towards his friend. "Excuse me." A high pitched voice appeared left to you. "Can you pass me the recorder over there?" As you turned your head you thought you saw the sun. A tall slender guy with the brightest and warmest smile looked at you. "The blue one with the silver buttons. I'm nearly done with arranging and that one is missing." he continued. "Oh yes. Sure. Hold on." you answered friendly but also bit dumbfounded. "Yah, Hoseok. She is already carrying enough." you heard a fifth voice. Someone with black hair appeared on the stairs. He must have been helping outside. As he came closer, you were mesmerized. "What in the world?" Was all you could think. He had broad shoulders, was tall, and had the most perfect face structure you have ever seen. "Here you go." he reached behind you and gave the recorder to his roommate. "Thanks Jin." You watched the sun disappear in their apartment. "I'm sorry. Everyone is so excited and also a bit stressed because of the moving. I hope they didn't bothered you too much?" Error 503. Website not found. Refresh page. For you it felt like minutes until you were able to speak. You swallowed the lump in your throat and answered "Oh no. Dont worry. Moving is stressful. And it seems like you have a lot of stuff." "Yeah, our old apartment was stuffed under the ceiling. We are seven you know. A lot of unnecessary stuff." he chuckled and offered you his hand. "I'm Seok Jin by the way. I assume we are neighbours now?" You rearranged your bags once again to return his handshake. "I'm Y/N. Nice to meet you. And yes, my apartment is the second from the right. Over there." You pointed to your door. "Let me help you with that." He reached out to take you groceries. He must have noticed your surprised face because he continued "I am absolutely sure you can handle it yourself. But you had to walk up here because of us. Let me return a favour, will you? Besides. My astonishing world wide handsome shoulders are made for that. " he smiled at you sweetly and you couldn't resist.

"Uff, what have you bought? The whole supermarket?" Jin said as he lifted the two bags. "I ran out of food completely. Nothing was left." you chuckled at his strained face."Not as strong as you promised, Mr. Handsome?" you chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "It's Worlwide Handsome, sweetheart." He made his way through the boxes and you followed. What you couldn't see was, that Jin couldn't resist a smile the whole way."Your luck that we are neighbours now. We never run out of food. Let alone because of Jungkook." He put down your groceries in front of your door as you searched for the keys. "So you are very welcome to join us anytime Y/N." You opened the door and turned around to face him. "Thank you very much for your help. And thanks for inviting me. I'm looking forward to meet your roommate the giraffe." you smiled at him and stretched out your hand. Jin quickly took it and said "Maybe we can hang out without Mr. Giraffe before? Just us two handsome people."

[mysaldate]

(UM seduction methods anon here) Im in awe over how much you write for so many character, every day! Do you have any hc on how they live? (where they live? living conditions?) BUT please dont push yourself or anything either!

Thank you so much for worrying about me! I’m simply trying to do my very best for all of you! And thank you also for such wonderful and original requests!

The living conditions of the Upper Moons headcanons

Daki&Gyuutaro

This one will be short since we know quite a lot about them. They’ve lived in the red lights district for their whole lives. In the streets and usually with little more than just their clothes on but they had each other.

They stayed in even after they became a demons. No surprise, there’s plenty of food and nobody will really care if a couple girls disappears.

They don’t have separate rooms of course. These two are literally inseparable so of course they wouldn’t bother with something like that. There’s nobody to tease them about it either since people are not aware of there even being two of them and as for their fellow demons, those just don’t care. Except maybe for Douma but he wouldn’t tease them about it.

We got to see their room so there’s not much to be said about the decorations either. Daki is a stylish girl and she likes to show it off even in the way she sets up their room – even if nobody much gets to see it.

Kaigaku

He never really had much of a home per say. He became an orphan at a young age (if he wasn’t abandoned as a baby already) and then was chased out of Gyomei’s temple as well. Jigoro took him in but unfortunately enough, that relationship didn’t really work out either. Strangely enough, he felt most at home when he was outside, travelling from one mission to another.

After he became a demon, he stayed with Kokushibou for a short period of time but that was just before Muzan approved of his existence. After that, he had to find his own territory – which wasn’t really too hard anyway. He picked a run-down old house as his shelter from the sun for the day but he didn’t really care much how it looked, at least not at first.

It’s not that he wouldn’t like company but there’s not really anyone to share his place with. Humans wouldn’t hang out with him, other demons literally can’t. Other Upper Moons won’t.

He first didn’t care at all how the place looked but after some time, he decided that since he didn’t have anything to do during the day anyway, he could at least try to decorate the place a bit. So while the sun is up, he does little things inside, like sweeping the floors or painting the walls. He even learnt to sew to make curtains. And at night, when he’s not out hunting, he does other reparations. Even he is surprised by how much fun he can have, giving the place a personal touch.

Gyokko

Being an artist, it’s not unlikely that he lived in an open, arid room before he became a demon. Lots of sunlight too. And occassionally, a companion or two but those never really stuck around for long. His place was filled with various unfinished art pieces.

Now that he’s a demon, he can’t have the luxury of a sunny appartment. His pots, however, work as a little pocket dimension so that’s an upgrade? Of sorts? It doesn’t really have a set shape either, it’s a little bit like Nakime’s Infinity Fortress but shapeless, like the walls are made of water or another liquid and constantly change form.

He lives with plenty of goldfish. The entire place is nearly filled with aquariums of various shapes and forms. You know how people make mazes for hamsters, guinea pigs or even cats? Well, those are nothing when compared to the lengths Gyokko goes to for his fishies. It’s not just glass, coloured or plain, either. Sometimes he would use the nichirin blades or pretty hairpieces of his victims’ to decorate the elaborate fishtanks as well. If a human ever strays in, it’s the last thing they say.

Gyokko LOVES decoration. Aside from his fishtanks, he has numerous statues, paintings and just about everything else you can think of. Both handmade and stolen. For his handmade art, he usually uses bodies or bodyparts of his victims, possibly their blood too. It serves both as an artpiece and a food reserve just in case he ever gets to a position where he’s forced to starve. Surprisingly enough, his pots are great at preserving things. Oh, and let’s not forget about the amount of detail he puts to the exterior of his pots! 

Hantengu

Back when he was a human, he didn’t really have a home, naturally. He couldn’t afford it. And most people wouldn’t let him stay more than one night, chasing him out often with sticks and stones. He had to travel all the time and preferably somewhere far away where the rumors about him didn’t reach yet. Due to this, he becomes restless when he has to spend a long time in one place.

Now, as a demon, he also doesn’t stay in one place all the time. He usually sneaks in a house, kills the family and stays there for a few days before moving on to the next one. Some of his other personalities, namely Sekido and Karaku, find this a little useless and bothersome but they wouldn’t really fight him on it.

Speaking of whom, his other personalities split when they have time to be alone as well, taking care of him and the house. It’s a great way to keep him safe as well since at least one of them is always on guard for possible intruders. They get along... somewhat well. There are the usual conflicts between Sekido and the others. Karaku is careless about their cover, Yoroko likes to make pranks on them and Aizetsu tends to lock himself in his room for hours on end. Poor Sekido is left with the task of housework, making sure they don’t get discovered too soon, acting as the voice of reason... and he still has to go out hunting and stay on guard when it’s his turn.

Yoroko likes decorating stuff and Karaku loves to watch him but their taste is strange to everyone but them. Surprisingly enough, Hantengu as well as Aizetsu both can actually create rather beautiful tapestries and Zohakuten sometimes paints when Sekido is just too done with the three useless dorks.

Nakime

She used to be your typical hikikomori. Nakime spent all her time in her room, with nothing but a pile of books and her biwa. It wasn’t a big room either. While her room did have windows, she prefered them covered and read in the light of an oil lamp. As expected, it wasn’t too good for her eyes...

She lives in the Dimensional Infinity Fortress now. A place she can fully control and knows everything about, one that bends to her will and where she can transport anyone anywhere at any time, just as she wants. The only exception seems to be Muzan who comes and goes as he sees fit (at least until the current arc but y’all already know how I feel about that). It’s not that she minds it, she still knows where and when he enters and leaves and even if she didn’t, it’s not like he would ambush and kill her for no reason (right?).

Despite providing rooms specifically suited for the Upper Moons, she much enjoys her solitude. Even when they’re in and she has to keep an eye on them (I’m sorry, I’ll stop with the puns now), she keeps her distance. Try to annoy her, or even just seek her company, and you will mercilessly get thrown out. An exception, again, is Muzan. He doesn’t live there with  her though and only seeks her out when he has work for her to do.

Decoration of the rooms varies greatly, mostly based on what are they used for. Most of the Fortress is not decorated since Nakime sees no reason to waste time and effort on that. However, there are special parts that deserve special attention. Just as an example, there’s Muzan’s upside-down lab, Douma’s lotus pond, that traditional japanese area Kokushibou first appeared in... And of course, the execution platform that’s now decorated with the red of the Lower Moons’ blood.

Akaza

Again, we have a very good canon idea about his life as a human. First living with his father and then spending some time in the streets, he eventually ended up staying at Keizo’s house, taking care of Koyuki. He had his own room there too but it didn’t really matter because he spent most of his time by Koyuki’s side anyway. Rumor has it he dragged his futon to her once when she was having a nightmare and never moved out until she got all better.

He’s pretty much a street rat as of now, looking for challenges and new foes to fight for the most part. During the days, he usually stays still outside, in dense forests or deep caves. He’s not particularly picky. Sometimes he stays there during the night too, setting up a campfire and waiting for someone to wander close. For some reason, he doesn’t really like cities, especially during the festival season.

So yeah, he lives alone. At least usually he does. It’s not all that rare for Douma to find and bother visit him. He doesn’t want company. Getting attached would make him weak. The more people you care about, the easier it is to take advantage of you.

The only thing he cultivates in his surroundings is his own body. No, I’m not talking about the tattoos, though those certainly are a decoration as well. Rather, it’s his muscles and strength. However, he still prefers to have some manners over raw power, hence why he keeps refusing Douma’s more than generous offers to hunt down some girls together even if that could make him stronger.

Douma

Grew up in the temple in the forest. High up on a mountain overlooking a small town, it’s not a place with the most access to society. But cults are usually like that. When he was about three years old, his father planted two magnolia trees in the courtyard so that the place is a little more lively and the trees can grow tall to provide lots of shade in summer since the sun could be quite annoying. If only he knew...

Loyal as he is, Douma stays at the temple even now. He had it expanded a little and even had a lotus pond build right behind his room so he can calm his thoughts at least a bit after every session. He used to need it more than he does now, especially since he now also has the one made by Nakime that is way better and more spacious.

Canonically, there is at least one temple servant staying with Douma at the temple. But honestly, it wouldn’t be quite like him to satisfy himself with a single person. There’s probably a number of people taking care of the place, both temple servants and maidens. They also serve as a source of entertainment and possibly even as a last-resort snack just in case. There also used to be Kotoha and Inosuke for a short period of time but well...

While he is quite childish and it might sound just like him to go overboard with decorating stuff, that’s not entirely true. Really, the most he has is the skull closet with engraved golden door. That and the pot in which he planted Kotoha’s head but that one is a gift from Gyokko so it doesn’t really count.

Kokushibou

As with most of them, we were blessed with enough info on Kokushibou’s, or rather Michikatsu’s, homes. Growing up a samurai, he never had time to spare, little to no friends and a bride who was most likely found for him without him having any say in it, it’s really not that much of a surprise he would elect to leave it all behind and become a demon slayer since it gave him significantly more freedom.

Even as a demon, not much have changed. During the day, he stays at a mansion like the samurai lord he is, and at night, he goes out to hunt down the pests in the area, more often than not treating himself with a bountiful feast while he’s at it. He also has a room in the Infinity Fortress but like the majority of the Upper Moon demons (actually everyone but Douma), he enjoys his solitude way more.

He has a few servants at the mansion. Ones that get replaced every once in a while when they mysteriously disappear. But the salary is high enough to let any major rumors die out in a blink (I know, I promised, I’m sorry) so the most he has to deal with are whispers about him overworking his servants to the point where they rather abandon the money and run away under the cloak of the night.

You would probably find the house eerily plain but he’s used to it. The backyard is where he spends most of his time aside from his room and those two are the only actually decorated places in the house. And they’re still kept neat and practical for the most part. He rarely has anything that wouldn’t serve a purpose, both when it comes to items and people.

[monicalorandavis]

“Queen & Slim“ is, for the most part, excellent

“Queen & Slim” ends how you expect it to. No, Bonnie and Clyde won’t get away this time. Its soundtrack features no mind-blowing cello renditions of “Bitch Better Have My Money” or other mash-ups of strings in an unexpected way. Which is not to say that the soundtrack is not exactly what you want it to be. It is. (Dev Hynes gifts the world with his rendition of ‘Runnin Away’ that is so good all is forgiven.) Even the performances haunt you with a sense of deja-vu lived-in realness. These are people you might’ve seen across from you at a restaurant and never thought about again.

This is a movie, by and large, that feels like a warm blanket but for whatever reason the metaphoric window was left open, letting the cool air in. An imperfect, near perfect, film. And the more I think about it, the more I wonder if that was intentional. But more on that later.

First, the acting. The lead actors are grounded and complicated in the way that good performances make your heart feel all those wonderful pangs. Daniel Kaluuya perhaps has the most impeccable taste in Hollywood and Jodie Turner-Smith breaks out in the lead role with an aloofness that feels like a defense mechanism and totally justified.

Next, the directing. Melina Matsoukas delivers on her reputation as one of the most aesthetic young directors in the biz. The film is beautiful and balanced, navigating the grit of deep south dive bars and trap houses with the same attention given to stately mansions and wide open fields. “Queen & Slim” is familiar, and original, so why is the film not wholly and entirely excellent? The answer is complicated.

We have a breakdown in the final link of the holy trinity (of film-making, that is), the writing. The writing is where this thing falters ever so slightly. And, believe me, it doesn’t feel awesome to criticize the very talented Lena Waithe. But a perfect script this is not. So here it goes...

The story suffers, as most things do, from editing - or lack thereof. Now, I will say, the first 10 minutes of the film are a master class in pacing. The action kicks off almost immediately and at times I felt like I was somehow watching a hidden camera show. Everything felt natural and right and weighted and awkward in all the right places.

We open on a diner where our protagonists are on a first date. Neither of them are in a rush to speak. You wonder, is this going poorly...or are these people already relaxed enough to lean into those silences? The answer is both. (While we don’t know either protagonist’s name until the final scene, I’ll refer to our leads for now as ‘He’ and ‘She’.) He is overly familiar and she’s judgmental. An attorney, she’s reached out to him after several weeks because her client has been executed. His feelings are hurt and he seems to be acting out on purpose, smacking his lips and chewing loudly, even eating her food off her plate (although invited to this is a very bold move) and, moreover, behaving a little too cavalier. These are two people who are not on the same page. And yet as soon as they leave said diner, their lives are turned upside down, together. A traffic stop turns into a self-defense killing. She’s even shot in the melee (though this is somehow not taken very seriously). In spite of the large wound across her leg, she insists they must flee and they’ve got to do it right now.

They know (and we know) this story doesn’t end well for them. What’s done is done. This is America. So, Instead of turning on each other, these near perfect strangers, band together and run. We watch a love story in reverse. They protect each other first then learn to love each other later. Now that premise alone is entirely delightful. It taps into my romantic notions of emotionally complicated people learning to love the crazy in someone else. Plus, it is so anti-authority and overdue to have some retributive justice paid to the police. Why not watch these gorgeous black people inflict some hurt onto the failed institution that is policing in our country?

And, again, this film starts so strong. This all happens in the first 7-10 minutes. We are on their side right away. Yes, he killed someone but this cop certainly would’ve killed him. You can judge their decision to skip town as harshly as you choose to, but I got it. Inertia would mean certain death. So in place of a firm plan, they go. And on their journey we encounter a cast of characters that doesn’t always push the story forward. In fact, I don’t know if I loved any of the characters they come across. The first person who offers help to our protagonists winds up in the trunk of a car which was too bad because I rather liked what he contributed to the story. After that, a greasy-haired white gas station attendant successfully gets Daniel Kaluuya’s charcter’s gun in his hands and playfully (I guess) points it at his head. It’s an unnecessary tension. We know he won’t kill him (we have another 90 minutes of movie left!). And, it makes Daniel Kaluuya‘s character seem stupid in a way that isn’t supported by any other information we know about him. He’s a little naive, you could argue, but he’s not dumb. And I would be willing to let those things slide if it didn’t seem to be such a pattern with the introduction of characters. That leads us to my largest issue with the whole film, the protest scene.

Now, with all due respect, what in the world was that protest scene about? It is, for whatever reason, spliced together with the first (and only) love scene of the film. We’ve been waiting patiently for some tenderness, more specifically, for something romantic to finally happen for our main characters. We’ve endured their constant running for their lives and it feels only fair that they get to enjoy their lives, and each other, before the cops eventually pay them back for killing their brother in blue. So, it made absolutely no narrative sense nor, if the filmmakers were going for a larger political theme here, thematic sense to put that love making scene together with aforementioned protest scene. Up until then, I was on board with all editing decisions. But this one simply won’t stand! Their sex scene is passionate and a little dirty (read: fun!). And the whole thing goes down in a baby blue Pontiac Catalina that is absolutely stunning (read: even better). The car alone makes the colors in the frame mesmerizing. Plus, these actors are so nice to look at I simply could not complain. Plus, I appreciated that there were no rose petals or champagne. This was not a pretty, or safe, or delicate love scene. These are two people who have been growing closer and closer to each other and have been so afraid to let their guards down. So when they finally get intimate you can feel their longing. Clothes are flying. The kisses are sloppy. Basically, this is a good old-fashioned good time. So, with all of that being said, why, oh why, would you interject the murdering of a cop in this one moment of romantic passion? The film has been building to our leads getting together. They deserved their moment. Uninterrupted.

Now that was a lot of criticism for a movie that I said was nearly excellent. And that’s fair. So allow me to now herald the film’s strengths because they overshadow the weaknesses that, while few, are distracting.

What this film does well, very well in fact, is depict a complicated circumstance compounded by the complicated reality of being black in America. We don’t see these stories often (or ever). We’ve seen stories about the trauma of slavery, the Civil Rights era, shootings. But we don’t see the subtle stories of racial violence and we rarely see the capacity black people have to love in spite of it all. So “Queen & Slim” is the first of its kind. The police brutality love story. That sounds like a crude oversimplification but this is a story worth watching. And because it is such a new storyform, we are bearing witness to a truly original film. So, naturally, as is the case with all new things, there are some wrinkles to iron out (which I’ve already gone on and on about, dont @ me). But the larger message is one to pay attention to. Black people are being allowed the space here to screw up and still fall in love. Perhaps not a revolutionary concept for you. But to me, this marks this movie as an instant classic. There will be copycats. Remember that this was the first.

Black people in film are rarely afforded the same frivolity and silliness as white characters are. There’s no black version of Ross and Rachel getting married in Vegas. There’s no black “What Happens in Vegas”. I realize now that all of my examples happen in Las Vegas... But let’s go with it. Las Vegas, the hotbed of bad decisions and overindulgence, has largely been depicted as the white person’s playground. That’s not true in real life. Vegas, if nothing else, caters to everybody’s bad decisions. So why don’t we see that on screen? I don’t know. White executives are simply out of touch comes to mind. But what also comes to mind is the larger responsibility black people carry from childhood on. Black kids are punished harsher. They’re given less strikes. So, their lives and, thus, their art don’t often get to be as free from the weight of the world. They don’t get the reckless Crazy Beautiful moment. What a delight it was to see the lead characters be free in this film. It struck me that they were totally free in light (and perhaps because) of the murder of that cop. Somewhere in the back of their mind they were unburdened by responsibility because they were already dead. How tragically beautiful.

So, in spite of my criticism of the plot and editing, know that this film already occupies a special place in my heart. I’m a grown-up. I can love something and see its faults. Isn’t love about accepting something (someone) in spite of their faults? Isn’t that what we witness with Kaluuya and Turner-Smith’s characters in the end? 

And that leads me to the final reason the film is not entirely excellent and the most controversial reason of all: it doesn’t have to be.

Nope. It doesn’t owe you excellence. Just like black people do not have to be excellent to exist in this country. It is not my own idea. It’s an idea thrown out in the first act of the film. Kaluuya’s character retorts to Turner-Smith, “Why do black people feel the need to be excellent...[why can’t they just] be themselves?” And with that, I rest my case.

This film is not entirely excellent because excellent is just another standard, another loop to jump through. Black art doesn’t have to prove anything. This film just is. It is important and honest and deserves to exist.

[thehopefuldandelion]

Birds, Dreams, and other Happy Things

A/N: Hey everyone! This is my first fic EVER( I’ve read a ton but have never written one). I have been really loving the song Dream a Little Dream of Me specifically by Doris Day and I wanted to create a little fic about it. All grammar mistakes and errors are mine. :)

One shot, everlark...

And I do not own the hunger games...

FanFiction.net : 

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13456901/1/

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“You ready Katniss?” my roommate and singing partner, Johanna, asks me.

 “I guess,” I reply, “what if they hate the song?” 

“They won’t, otherwise I’ll beat them to bits.” That’s Johanna for you. Always telling me the God honest truth. Ever since I started working at this crusty, dilapidated bar a couple years ago, my life has changed. For the better, I guess. Life as an Everdeen has never been easy. Low paying jobs and Ramen have become the highlights of my shitty existence ever since my father died, leaving my mother to check out. My sister, Primrose, has had the happy childhood I never knew because of my efforts. At 16, I became a parent to her after my mother abandoned us, taking my dad’s life insurance money with her. Hell, I don’t know where she is but I hope I never see her greedy face again. Regardless, bills still have to be payed including Prim’s pricey college tuition. My rent is already 2 days late and I can’t afford- 

“Katniss,” someone calls in a gruff voice waking me out of my trance. I recognize it immediately as the bar owner, Haymitch Abernathy’s, voice. "You're on in 2.”

 I reply with a simple, 

“Thanks Haymitch.”

 Here goes nothing. 

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“Peet, pleaseeeeeeee. I really need a wingman tonight. You are the best man for the job,” I can almost hear the pout in my best friend Finnick’s voice over the phone as he says this. 

“Finnick, you know I can’t. I have an important meeting tomorrow I need to be well rested for. This is my final opportunity to expand the bakery throughout the country,” I tell him in reply.

 I've known Finnick since we were in diapers, running around, eating baby food. He’s always been a great friend, especially in college, but can be a real douche when it comes to any and all responsibilities. 

“I’ll have you home by 1 at the latest. C’mon Peeta. You need the distraction after Delly-” 

“DONT TALK ABOUT HER,” I cut him off and then take a deep breath, “Ok, I'm sorry I yelled but you know it's still a sensitive topic for me.” 

He’s not wrong about me needing a distraction. I had just walked into our apartment, excited to tell Delly the news about the bakery, when I see her butt naked on another man. His name was Thom or something like that. What an asshole.  

“Fine,” I grumble, "I'll come BUT only if I get to leave when I want.” 

“YESSSSSSSSSS!” Finnick squeals like a schoolgirl causing me to roll my eyes. And that’s that. 

——————————————————————————

I place a kiss on my father’s picture with my index and middle fingers, a ritual I do before every performance no matter where it is. James Everdeen was a man with both spunk and spirit and sang with the most beautiful voice. If you listened closely enough, you could hear the silence of the birds as if to hear his melodious singing. It wasn't the same since after he died and I am still grieving his death. My mind strays to the thought of Prim hearing me sing tonight. Her college is out of state preventing us to see each other more than 4 times a year. I cherish every second of her company when she visits. 

As I step onto the worn stage and in front of the 1950’s style microphone, I remember how exhilarated I become whenever that spotlight focuses on me. On my left are the backup singers, Johanna and Annie, while on my right I can hear Thresh drop a beat as Gale plays the keyboard. My body and voice are one as the words seem to flow out of my mouth in tandem with the moving of my body. “This is for you dad,” I think to myself. 

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The bar Finnick drags me to is called Abernathy’s, a small but welcoming place, near his apartment. Once inside, we both grab drinks and head over to a rectangular table. I notice Finnick winking at a stereotypical busty blond with fake eyelashes and large boobs. I roll my eyes exaggeratingly while I turn my attention to the stage (more of an elevated platform only 2 or 3 feet off the ground) as someone announces the next singer. I don’t catch her name because of Finnick’s obnoxious flirting.  

The girl, no, woman who walks out takes my breath away. From her toned, olive legs to her enticing grey eyes and dark hair, she is the most beautiful human being I've ever laid eyes on. The moment she opens her mouth I am captivated by her melodic voice. It is both sultry and sweet with a touch of harmony. I’m hooked like a fish on a line. It’s official, I’m a goner and I don’t even know her name.

 -----------------------------------------------------------

Stars shining bright above you   

Night breezes seem to whisper I love you

Birds singing in the sycamore trees

Dream a little dream of me 

As my eyes wander over the surprisingly filled bar, I notice a pair of crystal blue orbs that seem to stand out from the rest of the crowd. His orbs are locked onto mine in a comfortable gaze. Who is this man? Why is he here? And why, oh why, do I want to sing this song for him?

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Say night-ie night and kiss me 

Just hold me tight and tell me you'll miss me

 When I'm alone as blue as can be 

Dream a little dream of me 

The attraction between the singer and I is heated and I can't seem to tear my eyes away from hers. It seems as if time has stopped and it’s just the two of us. She seems to be singing the song directly at me until she continues searching the large crowd. Who is this woman who has captured my heart in a matter of minutes? 

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Stars fading but I linger on dear  

Just craving your kiss 

I’m longing to linger till dawn dear 

Just saying this 

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you  

Sweet dreams to leave all worries behind you

But in your dreams whatever they be 

Dream a little dream of me 

I tear my eyes away from his muscular body and slightly curled blond hair and focus on finding my sister in the crowd. Her small, slender frame and long blonde hair aren't hard to miss so I spot her right as the musical interlude ends. She gives me a smile filled with an emotion that reminds me of the day she convinced me to sing again. It was a deathly cold winter morning only a couple days after my father’s accident. I shut out the world and anything that made me feel happy including singing. I felt guilty, like I shouldn't sing because my dad is dead and I'm dishonoring him. Prim, darling, Prim dragged me out of bed, made me eat a hearty breakfast, and said she had signed me up for the Christmas caroling competition in town. No matter how much I bitched she would not have it. I did sing and I realized that my dad is still with me, both in my heart and voice. Humming and singing around the apartment has become a habit of mine ever since. Hey, singing pays the bills so how can I complain?

------------------------------------------------------------

Stars fading but I linger on dear 

Just craving your kiss 

I’m longing to linger till dawn dear 

Just saying this 

Sweet dreams till sunbeams find you  

Sweet dreams to leave all worries behind you 

But in your dreams whatever they be 

Dream a little dream of me 

Dream a little dream of me 

Dream a little dream.... of me 

When the song concludes, the singer turns her back to the audience and says goodnight seductively over her shoulder causing me to drool. I must have really zoned out with thoughts of her because Finnick shakes my shoulder several times before I respond. 

“You ok, dude?” he asks concerned, “What were you thinking about?”

 I nod my head, anxious to go talk to the dark-haired goddess who just walked out of her dressing room. I jump out of my seat, startling people around me and walk (ok, run) towards my future.

------------------------------------------------------------

As soon as I sing the last note, a wave of contentment envelops me like a blanket. This is where I belong, on a stage, honoring my father through song. 

Annie drags me off stage and leaves to get drinks for all of us. Thresh, the gentle giant he is, just pats my back and smiles. He has never been much of a talker but I appreciate his calming demeanor when I have a shitty day. I feel an arm wrap around my shoulder and see a familiar face, Gale. My best friend since we could hunt. Gale has been Prim and my life support for since my father died and would lug me out of bed on days my depression got the best of me. I can’t imagine life without his ugly face.

“Great job out there Catnip. You always do great,” he tells me. 

I scrunch my nose in response to the nickname he gave me when I was 11. 

“Not too bad yourself. Is Madge here or...?” 

“No, she’s complaining that everyone would laugh at her swollen feet.” He then looks at me with a humorous glint in his eye and says, “Pregnant women. Am I right?”

 Madge and Gale have been dating since high school and are now married with a baby on the way. I often find myself daydreaming about having what they have but I snap out of it. The chances of me having someone who cares for me and would want a family with me are slim. Some would say I’m picky but its more that I’m cautious. I saw what happened to my mother after my dad died. Love destroyed her in the end and I don't know if I could live like that.

 “I wouldn’t know,” I huff, “I will be in my dressing room”.

——————————————————————————

I bump into Johanna on my way back to the dressing room. She notices the scowl on my face.

 “What’s got your panties in a twist?” she asks mockingly. 

“It’s none of your concern, Johanna.” How am I supposed to explain to someone that what I want most of all, I can and will never have.

 A couple minutes later, after I’ve changed into more comfortable clothing, I hear a knock on the door. 

Johanna, in a screeching voice, says, “Brainless, you better get out here. Haymitch wants you to mingle with people.”

I gag. I don’t “mingle”. I avoid people at all cost. My sister is out there waiting for me, though, so I grudgingly walk into the main bar area.

------------------------------------------------------------

There she is. The closer I get, the faster my heart starts beating. She’s even more beautiful up close than I could see from afar. The singer is wearing skinny jeans (which make her ass look divine), a flowy green blouse with a hint of cleavage, and not a trace of makeup can be found. Her hair is in an intricate but effortlessly messy braid. My fingers itched to unbraid it and run my hands through her luscious long locks.  

The woman is hugging a shorter blond headed girl who I assume is a friend or, possibly, sister. This intense urge to grab her by the waist and kiss her senseless bubbles up within me. I push it back down knowing I need to be of sound mind when I confront her. 

As I get closer, the blond girl says something about a cat to which the singer responds with a scowl. I’m about to tap her on the shoulder when a drunken man, about a head taller than me, with bleached hair steps in front of me and asks if the singer wants a drink. She tries to refuse but he doesn’t take no for an answer. On an impulse, I go up to her which shocks the man. 

“Hey honey,” I say while putting an arm around her waist and kissing the side of her head, “I’m sorry, I had to go to the bathroom.” 

My mind gets lost in her forest scented shampoo. She smells like evergreen trees during Christmas and her sweet perfume mixes nicely with the smell.  

The beautiful singer looks at me with wide eyes and a shocking expression on her face.Just when I thought this was a stupid idea, she continues the act by saying, “It’s ok, dear.” She then takes it a step further by laying her head on my chest as well as most of her body weight. 

The douchebag looks pissed, mumbles “whatever”, and walks away.

“Thanks for that...” She says and inquires for my name. 

------------------------------------------------------------

“Peeta,” he responds with a crooked smile, “Peeta Mellark.” 

My first reaction to Peeta saving the day was to yell at him but as I smelled his scent, cinnamon and spices, I decided to play along.

 He sticks out his hand for me to shake. 

“Katniss, Katniss Everdeen,” I tell him. When I shake his hand, I feel goosebumps rise on my skin and an electrical shock go through my arm. I pull my hand away and look at his face. It’s obvious Peeta felt it too.

“Hey, could I maybe buy you a drink?” Peeta questions me nervously. 

“That would be nice,” I say in reply excited to see where this night may go.

Peeta and I end up talking the whole night through. He tells me that he grew up in his parent's bakery and wants to open a new one in New York. His 2 older brothers, Rye and Bran, were troublemakers until they settled down. As the night continues, we seem to drift from surface level topics and dive into the darkest parts of our pasts. When I learn about his abusive childhood from his mother, I start bawling caused by the 1 too many beers I’ve had. I recount stories from Prim and I’s childhoods and my job here at Abernathy’s. When my parents were brought up, I was reluctant to tell this handsome man about my dad but as soon a s I do, I'm comforted in a way I have never felt before. Haymitch eventually yells at us to get out of the bar and I leave with a content smile on my face. 

While I’m walking to the taxi, too intoxicated to drive, Peeta calls my name. 

“Katniss, can I have your number? So, we can... you know... talk... and... stuff?” 

As I turn around, his floppy blond curls are bouncing while he runs towards me. I giggle at his hesitant tone. We exchange numbers and I give him a kiss on the cheek which puts a pink blush on his face. 

------------------------------------------------------------

Katniss and I went on our first date about 2 months later. A simple romantic picnic in the park while watching the sunset.

“Beautiful,” I said but not at the sunset. 

Without warning, she straddles my lap and gives me the shortest kiss making my body ache for more. From then on, we were inseparable. I love her and I want the whole world to know but I am not sure how to tell her. 

------------------------------------------------------------

I have fallen hopelessly and incandescently in love with Peeta Mellark. He’s been there through every painful period, strenuous performance, and temper tantrum. Without him, I’m lost; But how do you tell someone you love them when you have never been in love before?

 -----------------------------------------------------------

I hear the apartment door open and shut. Small, olive arms wrap around my waist. Katniss deeply sighs against my back.  

“Long day?” I ask. 

“Yeah. I missed you,” she tells me in return. 

I turn in her arms so I can face her and kiss the top of her head. Those beautiful silver orbs lock onto mine. A stray hair falls out of her braid, which I push behind her ear in a loving gesture. She rises on her tiptoes and brushes her lips against mine. Katniss sighs into my mouth as we tangle our tongues together.

 I can feel her tug on the hem of my gray Henley shirt which causes me to say sarcastically, "I didn’t cook us dinner just so it could burn.” 

Katniss gives off a hearty laugh and I fall in love with her even more. It seems just yesterday I was listening to her sing and admiring her beauty and now I get to call her my girlfriend. We both serve our plates and talk as we enjoy a relaxing evening at home. 

------------------------------------------------------------

The next morning, I wake up and see a handsome, naked Peeta beside me. The sunlight flooding in from the open window hits his golden curls in a way that makes it look like he is wearing a halo. His muscular arms are wrapped around my slender waist and I lean my head back against his chest. This is what I have always dreamed of but never had.  

I give Peeta a languid kiss and his eyelids slowly open revealing those crystal blue eyes I’ve come to love. 

“If that’s my wakeup call every morning, I’m never leaving this bed,” he says in a low voice. 

“Peeta, I love you.” 

I said it. That confession is finally out in the open. I close my eyes, scared of his response. 

He puts a finger under my chin, causing my eyes to open. 

“Katniss, my love, I love you as well,” he says with a crooked smile.

 In that moment, I realize that Peeta is home. And as long as I'm with him, I will never feel lost.

 We spend the rest of the day in bed, repeating our confessions of love, and kissing to our heart’s content.

 -----------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Ahhhhhh that’s it! I hope you liked it. Anyway uhhhhhhh ill check in with you all later. Bye ;)

[abthepoet]

So Id like to mention that COVID19 has put a lot of things into perspective.

My industry of experiential marketing was literally one of the first to go about a week ago when stores began banning all live demonstrations. I work in the natural and organic food industry doing live events and cooking recipes on site to sample brands to customers at grocery retailers.And because sampling tables are good places to spread germs, my demos all immediately came to a stop. I'm also an in home, private Music Teacher to kids of various ages and needless to say if schools' on hold, so is teaching. and so is income. My Venmo is :ABBlas22

Which sucks, a lot because the majority of my work is independent contractor based. . . .and there's no health care, paid leave, unemployment, or sick time. Why do I still do it? Because I love the industry, the opportunities it affords me, and the pay is solid. Except come tax season. The Government likes to fuck you if you work for yourself. . . .even tho I pay for all my own equipment and car repairs to get me from job to job. My Venmo is ABBlas22

However, amid the panic, I havent felt this calm in years. The constant anxiety and pressure of having to make money and go to work and be on time and make my schedule and drive from this city to that city for this demo and that demo, has subsided. I finally wake up and I'm not staring at the clock counting down how long before I have to leave which triggers an anxiety fest about leaving my dogs home alone because my one dog has such severe separation anxiety she destroys her crate, escapes, and then ruins the house(we are actively working on it) . . .so I'm up early and nervous about, "ok I have three hours I have to walk the dogs for at least one of those hours, feed them, get dressed, brush teeth, try to eat, clean the house, stuff their Kongs, make sure I have everything I need, and then try to sneak out before the dog starts freaking out." followed by "did I book enough demos this week, if I have to execute 16 for the month where can I put another demo, should I give myself a day off? nah, i need the money, let me check my Google calendar for the 65th time this morning and stare at all the blank dates I should be booking demos instead of doing anything else because no matter how much I work, it is never enough. So I spend an hour worrying about plunging my family into financial ruin. . . . better get online and start digging thru emails and brand Ambassador groups to make sure I've got enough work. Oh what's that? the sound of my entire family and partner telling me to get a *regular* job even though the idea of punching a clock and working for someone else makes me physically sick. . but I go and do it anyway because its a W2 position so you think well maybe I'll get health benefits at least and then come to find out that this bullshit retail job doesn't give part timers benefits of any kind, but I keep the job anyway because everyone said a normal job was best, but it pays $6 less an hour than my demo gigs and is a total waste of my skills and professional experience and eventually is cutting into my income because its taking up so many weekly hours but pays significantly less that I start calling out to go do demos instead and then the same people who were like "get a regular job" turn around and go "no, not That job, try This job."

and I'm over here ready to fucking scream because I've Been very clear about wanting to be in business for myself. I have tried many things, including testing an extremely beta version of what eventually became Uber Eats. . . I could be a millionaire but my parents thought it was a stupid idea and once I used up my resources trying to drum up business, that was it.

also, this is the worst part about being a millennial. I went to college for music because they said be anything and follow your dreams . . .but then I graduated into recession (2006) and got the first job I could,at a deli, which . . . .isn't exactly a degree holding position. For years we said,"I'm just grateful I Have a Job right now." and we got bitter, broke, and depressed as a generation. We're in our 30's now and it's just as bleak an outlook for our generational future. At least until the boomers die out and free up some of that wealth, if they don't all leave it to the cat and state first just to spite us.

So yea, people are freaked out with COVID19 but for the first time, I dont feel pressure or anxiety to rush out the house or make money because everything got cancelled. All I want to do is work super hard on my own online store via Shopify and grow from there. I love to work and I love the discipline of hard work. I would rather spend 18 hours in a day working on my own business and hustling my ass off to make it work using over a decade of marketing and sales experience to promote my brand for once.

But that's hard to invest time and money when I live paycheck to paycheck and have a partner and fur babies who depend on me. Everytime I excitedly talk about dropshipping through shopify and all my plans for it, it's met with a nervous "I believe in you but dont fuck us financially." "I believe in you but doesn't that take time." "I believe in you but why don't you just work here, they pay decent."

I love that the #Coronavirus hit and suddenly human rights are easy to hand out. I love that Coronavirus got us to halt economies on a scale so massive that will actually help us fight climate change. Capitalism has destroyed our planet and our species.

I want to always remind everyone that we are a species first. Not countrymen, not race, not religion. . . we are all dancing flesh bags, given different corporeal conduits with which to experience life and then later compare notes with one another.

"What's life like in that short skin suit?"

"Not bad but I can't reach anything."

"Good thing I got one of these tall skin suits." *grabs top shelf items*

"Thanks!"

It's to help us come together, understand similarities thru differences and use them to gain new perspectives while helping our species and our planet thrive.

This insane notion that everyone needs to have a job needs to go. Our species was Not made to do slave labor all day long for an invented wage that keeps us stuck fighting for basic survival when we have the potential to completely alter our lives.

The Earth is a hostage who's not allowed to feed her own kids. They locked up every fruit bearing tree, enslaved every animal, poisoned the soil, polluted the water and then held your life at gunpoint and demand you hand over hours of your life to work that does a disservice to your potential for greatness just for a chance to get a taste of what should be your birthright.

Basic needs of survival that all humans will die without shouldn't be prizes for who can work themselves to death the fastest.

Im using this time as an opportunity and am taking what little resources I have to work on my online store and sell off and flip what I can to make start up money on Ebay. (I dont even have WiFi and my apartment complex has locked the business center for CoronaVirus) . Using my phone for everything is really fucking tedious, especially because I've had it for 4 years and it doesn't always cooperate, but I'm grateful I even have one to use. If you want to invest in me, even just $5 I will 100% be using it to get a business off the ground. I've got most of the basic work done and market research, but with no income I cant even afford the basic Shopify plan at $30 a month, I'm hoping they pass a moratorium on evictions because how do I pay rent with no job to go to!?

My Venmo is : ABBlas22 and I do reward!

[collective-laugh]

Detective AU - Muriel x MC Chapter 6

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four  Chapter Five

Tag List: @a-zoidberg-aesthetic@lesbiancountess @fartkittyonline@yaysam@y-all-dnt-ve@countgoatman-and-drleechboy @julians-chest-hair@vesuviass @caterpiller-tea @saltywerewolfrebel@obsessedwiththearcana@thatsaltyseaman@xburningwitch @i-dont-speak-wolf@missrabbitart @softarcana @ethereal—pisces @cfluffiness @lhm-2001 @dr-devorak-will-seeyounow @meanderingpoint

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

Summary: Muriel and the Detective grow closer, in spite of the awkward tension surrounding them. 

Chapter 6: Brundle and Inanna

Muriel decides that a brandy, no matter how tempting, wasn’t really appropriate to be drinking at nine in the morning.

He wanted to. God, he really wanted a drink.

Inanna rolls over on the bed and yawns, glaring up at him for waking her. He tells her that he’s sorry, in spite of the fact that it was far past her due time to wake up. The brandy taunts him, and the headache that’s coming on is bound to be terrible, but he decides that he’s going to be a functioning member of society and drink coffee instead.

Coffee tastes like shit.

But, he figures it’s a decent substitute for the breakfast he should probably be eating right now, and it’s doing its job of waking him up.

He can’t stop thinking of her.

There’s a reason for it, he’s sure, and he supposes that’s where the need for a drink comes into play. He just...doesn’t want to think, and that’s harder than it ought to be.

“You wanna go for a walk?” He asks, and, in response, Inanna rolls away from him, barely balancing on the edge of the bed, “Okay, time to get up, you lazy bum.”

She yawns in defiance and nips at his wrist when he tries to clip her leash on, but in the end, he manages to get her to stand. She commits, begrudgingly, refusing to look him in the eye.

He decides that he should probably punt the walk when he hears the knock on the door.

Inanna trots back over the bed smugly, and he only rolls his eyes, knowing damn well that whenever he got rid of whoever this was, he’d take her out.

He probably shouldn’t be surprised to see her. He knows that Asra probably told her where he lives, and that he told her that if anything went wrong or if she needed anything, to go find him.

The initial shock wears off faster than anticipated, melting away into concern. Something had to’ve gone wrong, something had to warrant her visit and -

“Hi.” She smiles at him, but he’s known her long enough to know that she’s hiding something behind it, “Oh, um, Asra had your address written on a note in…” She pulls the note card from her handbag, “in a filing cabinet.” She smiles again, looking bashful.

He looks the card over, front and back, written in Asra’s messy scrawl, his name haphazardly scratched below the address.

He’s only a little angry at the moment that she didn’t have his address at hand, but he doesn’t want to make her think he’s angry at him, so he only hands the card back to her and asks, “Is everything alright?”

“I was going to call ahead.” She says, as if it was an explanation, “But I wasn’t sure if you’d be in, and...I suppose I should’ve checked, right?” She laughs awkwardly, wringing her hands together, and sighs, “I’ve an appointment with Consul Valerius this afternoon, and I was...hoping you’d come with me?”

“No.” He says before he has a chance to think about it.

A great big mansion with people looking at him, and some stuffy rich guy looking down at him? He wasn’t too keen on the idea, but it was bound to be inevitable if the guy called himself a ‘consul’.

“Oh! Okay, well...sorry for bothering you, and,” She bites the inside of her cheek, taking a step back.

“Wait.” He panics on the inside and sighs on the outside, “Do you want to come in for coffee?” He hopes she doesn’t notice how he tenses his jaw.

She does, but she smiles kindly anyway and nods, “Coffee sounds perfect.”

He pours her a cup, vaguely remembering how she takes it, and she smiles at him gratefully, looking around the small apartment he called his own. The bed was pushed against the far wall, next to the door to the bathroom. The far wall passed for a kitchen, and she assumed that his bed had to double as a sofa.

She was used to cramped spaces, but this one was Muriel’s. She didn’t want to disrespect.

He clears his throat and grabs his own mug from the end table and asks, “Why’re you going to Valerius’?”

“Nadia thinks he might know something.” She blows on the lukewarm coffee, “I called ahead, and I’m heading up around noon.” He opens his mouth to respond, probably something dumb about how she could’ve just called to invite him, but they already covered that. Inanna headbutts her, panting heavily, and she immediately gives her her undivided attention.

“Oh, hello!” She says in that annoying baby voice people use with animals, kneeling before her, “What’s your name?” She’s immediately petting her with her free hand, and Muriel swears that Inanna looks at him with the intensity of a thousand suns, taunting him.

“Inanna.” He answers after a moment too long, realizing that Inanna couldn’t really answer for herself. “Her name’s Inanna.”

She turns and smiles at him, and it makes his chest flutter, and he can’t really understand why, “It’s fitting.” Inanna licks at her cheek, the traitor dog holding Muriel’s eye the whole time.

He pauses a second, finishing the last of his coffee, trying to ignore the grounds at the bottom, and sighs, “I’ll come.”

She stands, confused, “You don’t have to.” Her first concern was his comfort. Of course it was. “I can handle myself, Muriel.” She smiles, taunting him, and it’s only a little bit endearing. It’s more annoying than anything, because he knows that she can handle herself.

“Doesn’t mean you should go alone.” He shrugs, and then repeats, “I’ll come.”

She smiles, and takes another sip of coffee before saying, “You know, it’s the strangest thing. Talking to you is just…” She shrugs, “familiar, I guess.” She wipes one of her hands on her skirt and continues before he can even sputter a response, “Did...did you want me to come back or…”

He shrugs, “There’s no point. You can stay.”

Muriel didn’t think inviting her to stay through.

He was so awkward, and he wished he could channel the doctor or Asra or someone with an ounce of charm, and wished he wasn’t always on the verge of saying something that was bound to give her a headache.

He didn’t want to hurt her anymore than he already did.

But the train ride downtown isn’t that bad, and she sits a little too close to him, asking about his dog, and other assorted politely intrusive questions. She seems happier today, like things are somehow easier, and he’s almost glad to see her smile like that.

“Do you like jokes?” She asks, taking his hand as she leads him from the train station to the street. Hand holding was necessary, he decides, so she wouldn’t lose him in the sea of people, but even when the crowd thins, she persists. He doesn’t do anything to change that, either.

He shrugs, liking the way her hand fit in his, “Asra likes to tell them.”

She smiles again, and starts, “Okay, so, a drunk and his dog stumble into a bar -.”

“Dr. Devorak and Brundle?”

She laughs aloud, catching herself and cutting it short, “You’re terrible! Dr. Devorak stumbles into a bar, his dog behind him, and Jules bets the bartender that Brundle can talk.”

“He would think so.”

She shushes him through her laughter, and he notices the way her smile reaches her eyes, how light she seems to be, “So the bartender agrees, and Jules asks Brundle what the top of a house is. Brundle responds with -.”

“Roof.” Muriel rolls his eyes.

“And then,” She turns, pausing for emphasis, “Jules asks what’s on the bottom of a horse’s foot, to which Brundle replies with ‘hoof’. Finally, the drunk asks him who the greatest baseball player is, and the dog says, ‘rrrrrrruth!’.” Muriel chuckles at her animated enthusiasm of the dog’s answer, and she continues, “The bartender kicks the both of them out, and the dog said to the drunk, ‘maybe I should’ve said DiMaggio’.”

Muriel coughs out a laugh, the joke so unfunny he couldn’t help himself, and he shakes his head, “That’s awful.”

She’s laughing just as much as he is, shaking her head and wiping at nonexistent tears, “I read it in the paper this morning.”

“Sounds like something Asra would send in.”

She barks out a laugh at that, covering her mouth with her free hand like he said something controversial, and looks at him like he’s the funniest thing, “Goodness,” She fans her face, still laughing, “I haven’t laughed like that in a while.” He tries not to think about how a terrible joke is the cause of that, and definitely not how that was the first time he remembered laughing in...forever. “I’m starved...you hungry, big guy?” She squeezes his finger, and he nods, like a man under a spell.

She pulls him into a small diner that she claims she’s never been to before, but must be trustworthy because, as she puts it, “there’s people brave enough to sit and eat.”

She buys him pancakes.

The stack of pancakes is placed before him, and he practically tears into them, seemingly unaware of just how hungry he had been. The sides of eggs and bacon are sure to follow, and he wouldn’t be surprised if she pushed part of her meal to his side of the table out of pity. She probably thought he couldn’t afford food, given his living conditions.

He knew she really couldn’t.

She purses her lips, running the tip of her finger over the rim of her cup, before asking, “What do you think about all this? Really, I mean?”

He’s chewing thoughtfully, holding a fork in one hand and a knife in the other before he shrugs, trying to swallow prematurely, “I dunno what happened to the Count. Not a tragedy that he’s gone.” He finally manages to swallow, feeling embarrassed that he spoke in the first place.

“You knew him?”

He shrugs again, cutting away at his stack of pancakes, “Worked for him awhile. Fighting rings.”

She sighs, looking at him like he’s the most pitiful thing on the planet, her hand inching across the table like she was considering taking his, before she folds her hands together, resting her chin on them, and deciding to grab her coffee all in the same millisecond.

It was nice knowing she was just as awkward as he was, at least.

“What’s the, uh,” He pauses, trying to save the conversation, “what’s the plan with Valerius?”

She widens her eyes and sighs, shifting in her seat, “Hell if I know. I’m just...hoping to pick up a lead, I guess?” She shrugs, poking at her food, “I don’t really know what I’m doing, if you haven’t been able to tell.”

Muriel has half a mind to smile, to tell her that no, she’s doing fine, but the words catch on his tongue when she takes a drink of coffee, and he just wants to be able to tell her that he doesn’t think she’s a failure.

Instead, she pushes her plate of eggs toward him.

[bitch-banshee]

A Proposal and A Wedding

Part lll

Part l , part ll.

Word count: 1500 :)

Characters: Sterek

Summary: it’s the morning after the nightmare and Derek just wants to forget it. Stiles is all for glazing over the nightmare and talking about the plans of their approaching wedding.

It’s just a cute filler, full of little Sterek kisses, and domestic bliss.

THE PLAN

Derek got up first, his mind running far before he actually decided to get out of bed. Slow limbs and quiet steps, he couldn't bare to wake stiles. His fiance looked so peaceful, and stiles deserved peace after the shit derek put him through last night.

The memory washed over him and made a sick feeling slither into his stomach. Today is gonna be good, he told himself, trying to put some positive vibes into the world or whatever Stiles said to him that one time. (You have to think positive to be positive der, try it) Derek bounded for the bathroom, brushed his teeth and decided he’d shower after Stiles left for work, He really didn’t want to disturb him.

The alpha ambled downstairs slowly, the sluggishness brought about by not being caffeinated, so that's what he did first. A hot pot of coffee brewed while Derek whisked eggs and put bread in the toaster. He heard when Stiles got up and started to look for him. Heard the lurch in his heartbeat when he found that Derek was not in bed, not even in the room.

He even heard Stiles scramble up and trip out of the bed, the hurried footsteps caused him to call out “I'm in the kitchen Stiles” careful not to be too loud, he didn't want to scare him, just alert him that he hadn't left. Stiles’s hurried steps didn't falter, and he came barreling down the stairs. Hand pulling through his proper bed hair. Derek's mouth watered, this was his favorite look on Stiles, other than when he was rightly marked up.

“Morning” Derek called gently, the tone in his voice urging Stiles forward to mold against his back. All that was heard was a grumble, the soft brush of lips over the nape of his neck, flushing his face and pulling the air from his lungs. Then Stiles was pulling away, a cup in hand, and a lazy smirk on his lips.

“Morning sourwolf” the light in Stiles’s eyes was back, they glittered with happiness and it made Derek knees weak.

“That is my coffee” he goes for a snap, but it comes out dreamily, Stiles is here, and he's touching him. Stiles still wanted to be with him, even after what he pulled last night.

The younger man waved his hand dismissively, “So, I was thinking-”

Derek snorted, “that’s never a good sign” as he poured the eggs into the waiting pan. A sizzle filled the air along with the smell of bread.

“Shut up, anyways, I was thinking we should probably keep the date away from Holidays, you know how my dad gets when he doesn’t get to see us, and I don't want to get married on either of our birthdays. Can't make the anniversary date too easy for you” Stiles winks at him and derek nods thoughtfully.

Okay, not Thanksgiving or Christmas, he can work with that.

“Where do you want to have the ceremony?” Stiles’s hands are sliding over Derek's left hip. Slow, languid circles are being rubbed into his skin and it makes his blood heat.

Derek shrugs, he doesn’t care, as long as Stiles keeps touching him like this.

“Outside? Inside? On the moon, c'mon babe I need something” the fingers don't stop, and Derek keeps heating up.

“out...outside” the word is broken as he leans further into the grip. A thoughtful noise comes from behind him and the touch is gone, leaving derek freezing cold and unsatisfied.

Stiles leans over onto the island, and Derek plates the finished food. They sit next to one another on stools in the kitchen. A comfortable but charged silence between them, Derek is itching to touch Stiles and have those hands on him in return.

“We will have to keep it small. I don't have that much saved up and I've only been at the department for a few years. While I'm sure dad will dry out his savings, I don't want to do that to him ya know?” it's not a real question but still the words tumble from his lips before he can stop them. “Do you want a big wedding? Do you want all the bells and whistles and all of that?”

Derek waves his hand, not to anything in particular.

It’s Stiles’s turn to shrug, “Yeah i do, but we can't afford it, I’ll settle for something small” he taps his fingers against the thick of Derek's thigh.

“We can have a small and intimate wedding with the pack and a few extras.” a small brush of warm lips ghost over derek shirt covered shoulder.

“I’ll settle for something small” that doesn’t sit well with Derek and he shakes his head.

“No you want a big wedding you'll have one. You don't have to settle for anything. You'll have nothing but the best” there's a finality in his voice that Derek reserves for the pack when they are misbehaving. He sweeps his eyes to Stiles’s and they're weird, the mix of emotions confusing.

“And how do you suppose we pay for said ‘big wedding’ Der?”

The honey color deepens when Derek easily says “Stiles, I’m richer than you know, money isn't an issue. You want a big wedding you'll have one. Along with a big Honeymoon and anything else big you want” He smiles quickly, slanting his lips against Stiles’s in a kiss that conveys that he means it. Stiles will never have to settle for anything ever again. He doesn’t now, anything he wants he gets, he wanted a tv and Derek bought one, Stiles wanted a bookshelf in their room for when he's restless and can't sleep. Derek built one for scratch, though he doesn't have the splinters to prove it. Derek would give Stiles the moon if he could pull it off.

They're still kissing passionately when Lydia breezes in, accompanied by Isaac and Erica. “Morning love birds” the sultry chirp of Erica's voice pulls them apart. Stiles’s cheeks flushed with heat and his scent sweet with arousal and desire. If the wolves can smell it they dont comment, only swath their alpha in a quick hug and swipe of their cheek.

“You're not even dressed” Lydia squints at Stiles before turning an eye on Derek’s hands, which are placed firmly on the small of Stiles’s back, the intent clear.

“Right, I should shower, I’ll be down in twenty” a chaste kiss is pressed to Derek's lips and he's gone. Flying up the stairs the shower turning on not even a minute later.

“You smell happy, it's a good scent on you” Isaac’s deep voice resonates over the chatter of Lydia and Erica near the coffee pot. “I am happy, and so are you, it's almost suffocating” a smile ghosts Derek's lips as he rises, collecting dishes.

The pack had all started to smell insanely happy, content with the way their lives have settled. It was a testimony to the way they all stuck together through everything. Derek remembers when they all took a trip to Europe to basically drag Isaac home, where he promptly took a beating from allison then they got married 2 years later.

Erica and Boyd were never apart, but after the run in with the Alphas and Boyd almost losing his mate they didn't waste any time and got married as soon as they graduated. It was a funny experience. They didn’t even tell anyone, just disappeared one weekend to Vegas and came back with rings and matching tattoos. Derek remembers Stiles crying laughing before tossing his arms around Erica saying she'd picked the only man who’d actually put up with her being as mean as she was.

She punched him.

Scott getting engaged was interesting. He’d fumbled over his words at christmas, and his mom started crying before he even got the ring out of his pocket. Kira had all but thrown them back into the couch squealing and Scott lost the ring in the couch. But Kira never tells that part.

Lydia had promptly decided that she didn't want anything to do with the male race, or anyone for that matter, she was much too happy being that smartest in the room, and a partner would only try to outshine her. That had put Parrish in a strange place, since he was still chasing after her like a hellhound on a leash.

Derek shook his head a small smile on his face. Easily lost in his thoughts about his pack, his family. He settled up to the sink, and started washing the dishes. “You know big man, you look good doing all this domestic work” Stiles slid up next to derek, resting his head on the large shoulders. Derek growled lowly in his chest, the sound playful and brought smiles to Erica and Isaac’s faces.

“Think about what you want Stiles. Money isn't an issue, you can have everything you want.” The alpha easily tugs his lips to his lovers. A brisk, and calming kiss is given and received. Stiles is pulled away by a grumbling lydia.

“Damn mates, Sappy as hell” before derek is left alone.

——————————————————————————

Taglist: @teenwolfechoes @terminallygenius @just-jordie-things @abloomdivinity @alpha-desi @inside-alainas-mind

[fantasyfandommaiden]

ML Counsellor AU: Plagg’s session

When it seems like Mlle Carmine Regal has figured out the identity’s of Paris’s super hero’s, the ladybug and black cat kwami do what they believe is best. They don’t tell their chosen their suspensions, and decide they wait to see what the red haired woman does with the information... at least Tikki does. At first. When Plagg is impatient, and finally gets to have a conversation for once without being interrupted or told that he needs to ‘move on’.

(Inspired by an ask by @nerdasaurus1200 )

It was rare for normal humans to see through the glamour of the Miraculous, heck, even wielder had a hard time unless blatantly told who was behind the mask and given proof. But than again, in Plagg and Tikki’s option, there was little normal about Mlle Carmine Regal.

Both Kwami’s had a suspicion that the Counsellor knew Ladybug’s and Chat Noir’s identities, she left tiny hints. Like knowing both were in school, or the puns that Chat used, or that one time she caught Ladybug speaking Yueh instead of French. The normal course of action would be to wait and see what the woman does with that information, and deal with her as necessary... that was what Tikki did, but Plagg couldn’t.

She was too close to Adrien with her working in the school, AND apparently she was close friends with Adrien’s schedule maker, or whatever title Nathalie had. One word, and Adrien would lose all of what little freedom he had! Plagg maybe lazy, and like to goof around and enjoys his chaos, but what few knew is that he was extremely protective of his kittens, and sometimes his over protectiveness forgot that his entire existence needed to be kept a secret.

Which was how he found himself, at two o’clock in the morning, phasing through the woman’s apartment walls to give her th scare of her life, and threaten her to never even think to reveal what she thinks she knows because she is so wrong and Chat Noir is not Adrien Agreste, and... she wasn’t in bed.

Plagg blinked, looking around. Humans were usually asleep at this time... right? Unless she was a super hero, or Hawkmoth, possibly Mayura- nope, she was in the living room, reading a book.

Plagg frowned, well he couldn’t exactly scare her with her being awake, his whole plan was ruined! He could try another night, he glanced back and saw that the woman was looking straight at him with a curious look on her face and Plagg freezes.

“... okay, clearly I’ve been awake too long and am hallucinating.” She said rubbing her eyes as she stood up, however instead of walking to the bedroom to sleep, like Plagg thought she would, she walks to the kitchen. Plagg, curious because he is a cat, follows, floating roughly five feet away.

“How long have you been awake?” He asked, eyebrow raised as the woman begins to fill a kettle with some water.

“Now? Roughly..... 19 hours.” She said softly, seeming to not mind talking to something that is suppose to be a ‘hallucinations’. She turns back around, leaning back against to look at Plagg “... however I don’t usually start hallucinating until roughly 30 hours of no sleep, so I’m guessing your actually here.”

Plagg blinked, and than glared, remember why he was here. “Your damn right I’m here human!” He zoomed up close so he ways within inches of her face “You. Listen. Here.” He let out a hiss, trying to make himself look as intimidating as possible “I am an all powerful being of chaos and destruction, and I hear whispers that you think you know the identities of Ladybug and Chat Noir, and I am here to tell you-“

Carmine perked up slightly, smiling widely “Oh! Are you the ‘kwami’ Chat was talking about?” She looked at him slightly confused “... your a lot cuter than I thought you would be.”

“Don’t interrupt!” He growled “I maybe small, but I’m the reason the dinosaurs no longer walk this earth and Atlantis is no longer on the map! Imagine what I could do with a tiny, weak human like you!”

Carmine continued to look at the small god, an unreadable expression on her face as Plagg continued. “NOW YOU LISTEN HERE! Yes, my kitten has a lot of faults! And yes, he sometimes gets a little over zealous when it comes to his pursuits of the bug! And maybe he’s a little entitled, and self absorbed, and... and... I had a point, what was my point?”

Carmine looked at Plagg, before very slowly asking “Um... Mr. Kwami, May I offer you something to eat?” She asked “I have a meat and cheese platt3 I’ve been meaning to finish off.”

“DONT TRY TO DISTRACT ME-... does it have Camembert?” Their had been an akuma fight earlier that evening and Adrien hadn’t given him nearly enough cheese to satisfy his hunger.

~~~~~~

She did, in fact, have Camembert on her meat and cheese platter. Plagg happily sat down on the table on top of the cushion that the red haired woman provided as he all but inhaled the cheese. She sat down in a chair at the table with a hot cup of tea in hand.

“I love cheese! It’s gooey, and yummy and smells so good!”

Carmine simply smiled “I’m more of a marble cheese person myself.”

Plagg rolled his eyes “Uncultured swine! Camembert is best cheese! I would know! A lot of my previous chosen’s were cheese makers!” He said happily, bitting into another piece.

“... other chosen’s?”

Plagg looked at the woman with a raised brow “What? You don’t think Chat Noir is the first black cat do you? I’ve had many! Who would go on to do amazing things!” He insisted.

“Like what?” She asked curiously.

“Make cheese.” Plagg said smugly, swallowing a whole piece in one go.

Carmine smiled “What kind of cheese did they make?” She asked with a sincere tone.

Plagg blinked, looking at the woman cautiously. Usually whenever he said they made cheese, they would insist on knowing other things, heaven knows that Adrien did that. He liked talking about the cheese maker, she was one of his happiest chosen’s.

“All kinds! My kitten Brielle was possibly one of the best cheese makers in the WHOLE village, her name even proved it!” He said excitedly, floating up “Back in those times, it was the men’s duty to do the outside labor well the girls were inside doing the child rearing, food prep and all that junk, but my girl Brielle? Ooh she was a spit fire! She hated being indoors, hated the fact she couldn’t go out at night without one of her brothers, always tried to rebel. She loved being one of my black cat! I loved her cheese!” He said, closing his eyes as he faintly remembered the small village girl. Where Tikki remembered faces better, Plagg remembered smells and voices, Brielle always smiled like freshly made cheese and her voice was a bit high pitched, but she was a beautiful singer.

“She sounds wonderful... what happened to her?” Carmine asked innocently.

Plagg’s whole demeanour dropped, he looked down at the table as he slowly floated down. “... she got sick.” He said softly, talking over to the cheese platter “She was 42, which was old considering she survived the bubonic plague, but she still got sick with what would now be considered small pox’s.... I was the only one able to stay with her in her final days because no one else could afford to get sick, I stayed with her in her last moments... I always do with my kittens if I had the choice to.” he said softly, nibbling on another piece of cheese without much gusto. It didn’t taste as good as Brielle’s did, but than again, none of the cheese he ever had afterwards did.

“... your very old, aren’t you?” Carmine asked softly, Plagg only nodded.

“... I don’t get to talk about my past kitten’s too much... I mean, humans don’t live long, and I can’t complain, I have Ladybug’s kwami, so I’m never alone.”

“I have close friends too, but I still miss the ones that pass on.” Carmine said softly, looking at the tiny god “... Did any of your other chosen’s make cheese?

Plagg’s ear twitched slightly “... none as good as her, but I had one who was a pretty decent writer, he also didn’t understand the wonders of cheese either and could only really afford to give me mushrooms, which I hate but he was trying his best, even if he was head over heels for the Ladybug of that time too, he was a nice enough fellow, could see why Tikki would work with him.”

~~~~~

Plagg didn’t realize how late it had gotten until Carmine’s phone began to ring, the alarm clock showing that it was 6:30 AM. Plagg had spent the whole time talking about his past chosen’s, their talents, what he missed about them.

, and than how they passed.

Plagg looked at the phone as Carmine turned it off, than up at the human woman, noticing the large dark circles under her eyes “Geeze, if you were tired you should have just kicked me out instead of letting me run my yap.”

Carmine looked at him with a raised brow, an amused smirk on her face “I have a feeling I would have seventy years of bad luck if I attempted that.” She said in an amused tone.

“True.” He inhaled his last piece of cheese and floated up “So, like I said-“

“I do not know who Chat Noir or Ladybug are, and even if I did, I will not tell anyone.” The woman stated as if reading from a script, before looking at him smiling “... shouldn’t you get back to your charge? I imagine he has some sort of appointment, or such to attend to.” She said knowingly.

Plagg scowled slightly, although there was no heat behind it “Watch it. Oh, thanks for the cheese” he said smiling “... and the talk... it’s... nice, talking about my kittens.”

He glanced at the her phone again, doing some quick math to figure out how long it would take for him to get back to Adrien when he noticed the date...

‘... in two weeks huh?’ He though, thinking of his counter parts more well known Ladybug, who had possibly one of the most tragic passings, and that as saying something coming from him.

“... you doing anything two weeks from now?” He asked, looking at Carmine, who blinked.

“... are you... booking an appointment?” She asked slowly, clearly confused.

“Yeah, But not for me, and they may not come, but... just two weeks from now, try to be here, if you can.... they..., they could use someone to talk to too.” He said softly.

Carmine looked at the tiny god before nodding “... and who is the person I’ll be talking to?”

“Not a person. A Tikki.”