#it happened and no one can change that and people will inevitably make more things like it and i LOVE THAT

[bambamramfan]

Discourse knows, there have been too many articles in the UMC publications about polyamory, and I apologize for adding to the bonfire of think pieces. At least this one linked above is less obnoxious than most of them.

(The most obnoxious one is referenced in this article, the Atlantic piece saying that polyamory is bourgeois identity politics distracting from material change.)

And what gets me is that for a bunch of supposed Marxists decrying how polyamory is just cultural superficiality irrelevant to the superstructure of material conditions.... none of them can bother to write a Marxist analysis of polyamory! It's just throwing different names at each other, no discussion of material incentives.

And it's so fucking easy to write one, isn't it. Here's our starting points:

Marriage (and the relationship models that lead to it) is an economic institution.

The change in modern polyamory fads is, like most fashion, coming from the upper-class.[1]

I think we can all agree on these basic premises, and they provide a great deal of grist for economic analysis.

For instance, the middle class in America is falling apart. Especially if you are a recent college graduate. It's easy to get an internship that might be on track to a very lucrative career, especially in a big city. It's a lot harder to start a stable middle-class job somewhere between the coasts. So you can't really start planning for baby until you're 30 and after 5 different careers you maybe have one that will last more than a year, and can put a down payment on a home at maybe 35. (Housing costs rising, especially in cities, has really exacerbated that.

Does this apply to everyone? No. Does it apply to more people that in the past? Big yeah. So, what does a young educated something do in their twenties and early thirties?

But the upper class - I suppose we are supposed to say upper middle class, but c'mon programmer earning $250k you're fooling no one - is booming. It's easier to enter it, especially if you're smart, than ever (note that increasing from 1% mobility to 10% mobility is a big change, even if on the absolute scale it's still unfair.)

Polyamory - or extramarital sex - has always been popular among the rich. Because marriage isn't really an economic necessity for them. If a couple splits, well there's enough money to go around for all the kids to live in nice houses. Mormon bigamy flourishes when a male breadwinner is so ultra-successful they can support for 5 wives, and geek group poly houses flourish when one systems engineer can pay for the whole house on their own too (maybe there's one kid everyone chips in babycare for in the house, but no one is even thinking about enough children in the group house for a fertility rate close to 1:1.)

So if you cut out the ladder from the middle-class-monogamy path, and widen the highway for upper-class-laissez-faire-culture, then cultural norms are gonna flow from the former to the latter.

The thing about relationship norms that makes the change really noticeable is their NETWORK EFFECTS. Being the only polyamorous person in a monogamous community is basically irrelevant, right? Who you gonna date? Similarly if you are in an entirely polyamorous community, my sympathies if you happen to be monogamous and so everyone you want to date has incompatible norms.

But once you start getting away from the edges, they S-curve up real fast because there's finally the option to try the minority relationship style, and for the agnostics who are okay poly or mono, they start seeing people they think are cute in the other camp, and hey, why not try it out.

So combine the collapse of the middle class, the proliferation of upper class hedonism, and network effects and a poly-explosion seems almost inevitable, doesn't it?

...

Of course, I haven't presented any hard evidence, this marginal change at most applies to less than double digits percentage of the populace, and this isn't even how the story feels from inside my head (as a poly converted person.)

But it was. At least. An attempt. To do. Materialistic analysis!

Why are all published Marxists so bad at this.

--

[1] Polyamory, or extreme family/relationship/household flexibility has always flourished in the underclass. But the NYT isn't going around interviewing trailer parks in Appalachia to ask them about their exciting new lifestyle.

[scarycranegame]

a bit of a more serious post than usual so if you don't really wanna see that, i won't be upset at all if you keep scrolling.. the only reason why this is under a cut is because i myself don't really wanna look at it every time i scroll through my blog (is that a thing people do?? or am i just very self absorbed??? LMAO)

i'm a little concerned about urban himself and the direction he's taking his series.

like.. i'm all for creative expression, and i'm all for the idea of nobody policing anyone else's creative work for what can and can't be done in a certain narrative (let alone fiction in general), but i feel like the more interaction urban has had with his fanbase and the analog horror community in general, the more it's been affecting both him and his series.

i think that i should address his twitter presence and """controversy""" first, because that's the thing that's on everyone's mind when they hear "urbanspook" at this point.

i wanna preface this by saying that i fucking hate how people have been responding to all of this. what chezzkids and pastra are doing & have done is, indeed, harassment; they aren't criticizing urban's series, they're saying it shouldn't exist. both pastra and chezzkids can be quoted saying effectively the same thing: "urban should not have a platform, and by supporting him and his art, we're encouraging other people to make things similar to it, and that's bad." if you don't see the problem with that, let me spell it out for you: these are fascist, pro-censorship views that align with those of harmful far-right ideologies which call for the suppression of content made by and in support of marginalized people. if you're willing to overlook that because "icky shock horror bad!!!!", then i think you should log off of the internet and spend some time re-evaluating your perception of the world and those around you, especially those who are different than you. this man has been the victim of a targeted harassment campaign for, at most, a full year, and mocking him for lashing out as a result of said harassment is far more ableist than the phrase "autistic furry horror" will ever be.

with that being said, i greatly dislike the way urban conducts himself on twitter. yes, i know it's supposed to be ironic; yes, i know he's "trolling" and that everything he says on there is disingenuous..

...but this is the internet.

no one is going to genuinely believe it's all a big joke, no matter how many times urban says it and no matter how true it may be. they already don't see him from a very positive perspective, even if they don't have much of a justifiable reason to do so (although their reasoning is understandable to an extent), so playing up a purposefully "edgy, immature, rage-bait" persona might drive people away who may have otherwise been interested in the series. i've seen several testimonials from people who enjoy the series and have even created fan work, but are put off by urban's behavior on twitter, and some people have even gone so far as to claim that the series in of itself is objectively bad and devoid of any value solely because of the twitter situation despite not having watched a single video in the series. yeah, the whole point of the joke may be self-parody, the punchline might be that urban is playing up the analog horror community's wildly inaccurate perception of how he is as a person, but i feel like the joke's gone on a little bit too long to still be anything but harmful to urban and his presence on the internet. he's stated that after finishing his current series, he wants to step away from analog horror altogether and work on other things, but i fear that if the twitter antics continue the way they're going, that might not end up happening; either due to a lack of willingness on his part (after all, being around so much negativity for such a long time typically affects people very adversely), or due to a lack of remaining audience.

despite my concerns, however, it must be said that i don't know what any other communities he's active in are like, and if i had to guess, i would assume that his future work under the "urbanspook" name would be more in tune with his actual interests pertaining to the horror genre as opposed to anything in the orbit of the analog horror community. i could be completely wrong about the twitter business, and urban's effectiveness at creating things completely divorced from analog horror may not be compromised in the slightest. however, as a fan of his analog horror series, i still feel that it's important to suggest this possibility: even after it's finished, The Painter will still exist, and its association with this particular time in urban's online endeavors may make some people wary of giving it a chance when they otherwise may have enjoyed it.

speaking of urban's work, i think i should elaborate more on how urban's interactions with his fanbase are affecting the series itself as opposed to him and his online presence.

to put my view of where things are going in terms of urban's handling of the series, i remember reading a magazine interview with him at some point (i think it was either right before or right after PIGS was released) where he mentions that he got the idea of there being two killers from fan theories, which!! on paper it seems like a cool thing to do!! but recently with all of these new lore additions (ex., mask guy missing his face and acting like a dog, painter being female, revealing the killers' names at all, the episodes not being in chronological order, etc.), i'm starting to notice a sort of "matpat effect" (to coin a phrase) going on, where he's writing the story in such a way that canonizes fan theories just for the sake of canonizing those fan theories.. i don't find it very difficult to believe that all the people in his instagram/youtube comments asking the same exact questions over and over may have influenced his writing decisions a bit, and even though he himself has admitted he isn't the best writer, i think that the earlier episodes are the strongest of the series (sans PIGS and FAMILY, i love those two with all my heart and soul) and that urban's writing is best when it isn't influenced by the fanbase. (if anyone wants me to elaborate on this, let me know!! i might make a post at some point about what i think is different between the first few episodes and the newer episodes if anyone wants me to; i think legitimately analyzing this series is super fun and i have a lot of things to say about it!!)

all in all, i'm just really worried about urban. in the beginning, he seemed so adamant about being individual and unique with his series and his online presence; he defied so many expectations that people had regarding analog horror and those who create it and seemed so much happier to work on this series... but now it seems like he just wants to get it all over with so he can work on things he actually wants to work on, and all anyone sees him as is a caricature of someone who never even really existed in the first place outside of a moment of completely justified rage. his heart isn't in it anymore; at least, it doesn't seem like it to me, and i really hope that eventually all of this superficial, reactionary """controversy""" bullshit blows over and that maybe urban's remaining time in the analog horror community can be made at least a little bit more pleasant.

[katiexpunk]

Fuck Me, Fill Me

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader | W/C: ~4K | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI

Summary: Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break. You spent years successfully avoiding one. Except things are different now, you're ready for more. Your husband Joel is more than happy to oblige.

Warnings: Joel has one mission in this one -- knock you the fuck up (if that's not your thing, kindly move on). Heavy on the breeding kink. No age gap is mentioned (make it your own). So much dirty talk. Fingering. Dry humping/grinding. Praise kink. Size kink. Unprotected P in V. Rough sex. Semi-public sex. Sex in front of a mirror. Multiple creampies. No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. TLOU au. Reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to. Let me know if I missed anything!

A/N: I have no excuses for this one except that I have Joel brain rot and baby fever. Shoutout to the Capital One Lounge at IAD for the idea. Written on a plane.

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Accidents happen all the time — people fall, knives slip, condoms break. 

It’s inevitable, really. A known fact of life. Call it Murphy’s law, bad luck, or just plain stupidity… 

You’ve spent the majority of your teens and 20s successfully avoiding an accident. 

If it can happen, it will happen your superstitious aunt used to say, and you were a believer. 

Lord knows you've had more than enough evidence in your life to back up her words. From the tummy ache after eating way too many cherries, to the conspicuous brown stain that ruined your pristine white blouse. A blister on your heel from shoes that were supposed to be 'broken in' but never quite were, and the painful crack in your skin that followed. Proof was everywhere, and you learned to expect the unexpected.

You hold tight to that belief, while Joel does the same to your hips, fucking you within an inch of your life in the airport lounge bathroom.

But how you both ended up in this position was no accident. 

++++

It never seemed like the right time—you had so much more to explore, achieve, and experience. Becoming a mother would complicate everything; at least, that's what you convinced yourself. You were content to rely on that little orange pill each day, despite its own set of side effects, because it kept your options open. 

You weren't sure you'd make a good mom anyway. Your own mother certainly wasn't a shining example, and you had no reason to think you'd be any different. You couldn't even keep a cactus alive—how could you possibly care for a child?

But something changed not long after you and Joel got married. Maybe it was maturity slowly finding its way in, like warm honey filling the spaces you once closed off. It softened you to the idea of chubby cheeks and tiny fingers, gentle coos, and quiet lullabies sung in the deep southern drawl that had become so familiar.

Initially, you weren't sure how Joel would take the news, but when you told him you'd reconsidered, his reaction was beyond anything you'd expected. He was over the moon, filled with an urgency you'd never seen in him before. It was like you'd handed him the key to his deepest desires, and he was eager, almost desperate, to turn it and bring new life into your world, yours and his.

He made it clear just how eager he was when he took you in his arms and twirled you around the kitchen in joy. Then, without missing a beat, he bent you over the counter, yanked down your jeans, and made his intentions unmistakably clear. He fucked his cum so deep inside of you that night that you felt the warm dribble of him the next morning. 

++++ 

Good things come to those who wait.

The words seem almost lifeless as they peer back at you, the paper they're printed on showing signs of age and Scotch tape keeping it glued to the break room wall above the microwave. The optimism they once held has faded, leaving behind nothing but cynicism and wear.

Yeah. Right. 

The shrill beep of the microwave snaps you back to the present, your shoulders tensing. You shake off your irritation, clutching the warm coffee that’s been reheated three times, its heat barely reaching the chill of your underlying pessimism. It’s a small comfort, but enough to soften the ache of disappointment that nags at you every month when hope fizzles out.

Back at your desk, you bury yourself in work, flipping through emails and juggling various applications. Headphones in, you’re almost lost in your own world when a notification on your phone pulls you back. It's your cycle tracking app, reminding you that you're due to ovulate in a couple of days. But wait—

No, no, no. You quickly count the days in your head, then scramble to open your work calendar. The schedule's a blur until your eyes land on the words "Work Trip: Jackson, Wyoming." They jump off the screen, almost mocking you. Looks like timing won't be on your side this month. Unless —

Would it be too ridiculous to change an entire work trip just so you could make love to your ridiculously hot husband, and let him fill you again and again? You think not, but you know your boss might say otherwise. 

You spend the rest of your workday figuring out Plan B. The irony is not lost on you that you’re seeking out an entirely different kind than you used to. 

++++

As you settle into the couch, your legs draped across his lap, he begins to massage the soles of your feet in that soothing way that sends a ripple of warmth up your spine. You can't help but glance at his side profile—the elegant slope of his nose, the chiseled cut of his jaw, and the effortless curls of his salt-and-pepper hair that rest at the nape of his neck. He's undeniably handsome, a sight that never gets old.

His touch spreads a slow heat across your skin, your stomach fluttering in response. It's always been this way—the world could be crumbling outside, but with Joel, in your shared cocoon, you feel entirely at ease, wrapped in safety and affection.

“You're really gorgeous, you know,” you murmur, almost too quietly to be heard. You swirl the wine in your glass and meet his gaze as you take a sip.

“Nah, that's you, sweetheart,” he replies with a wink, his touch transitioning to featherlight kitten caresses as his fingers trace a path up your shin. He's not trying to seduce you, not really,  but his touch and the intent gaze he holds on you are enough to ignite a slow burn under your skin.

You relax into the cushions, your head sinking back into the pillow, reveling in this moment. When he pauses, even for a second, you squirm, and he chuckles softly. “Such a needy little thing, aren't cha?” he teases, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he resumes his gentle strokes. “Mhm, sure am,” you hum, your eyes closing as you melt into the sensation of his skin on yours.

He slowly journeys upward, callused palms gliding along the smooth skin of your thigh, alternating between soft strokes and firm squeezes. Each touch seems to awaken a deeper need within you, and you're all too aware of the growing bulge beneath your calves, a silent but potent reminder of the desire simmering between you. It's enough to make you ache for him, crave his closeness, the kind of closeness only he can provide.

You lift your head, and he's already adjusting, his broad frame looming over you. He locks eyes with you as he takes the wineglass from your hand, placing it on the coffee table with care, then shifts his full attention back to you. You push your hips upward, meeting his, and he presses down just enough to make it clear that he’s in control, his body holding you firmly but without discomfort. You know he’s got you right where he wants you.

Your eyes meet his, and the intensity in his gaze leaves no doubt—this is happening. He props himself up on one forearm, his other hand tangling through your hair, his knuckles brushing against your cheek with a tender touch. He thrusts his hips into you with more urgency, his lips descending to capture yours, drawing out a soft moan from deep within you.

“Fuck sweetheart, feel what you do to me?” he groans, pressing his lips harder against yours. He tastes the wine on you, and your tongues intertwine, each movement slow but deliberate. You work your arms free from your sides and slide your hands into his hair, tugging gently, your nails grazing his scalp. The deep groan that escapes him tells you he's feeling everything—the pull, the scrape, the heat. It rumbles from his chest, reverberating through you, and it's intoxicating.

With your lips pressed firmly to his, he captures your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it a teasing bite as he thrusts against you. The rough denim scrapes against your inner thighs, and he slots himself perfectly between your legs. His mouth leaves yours, tracing a path of soft kisses down your jawline, lingering at that sensitive spot just behind your ear before he pulls the lobe into his mouth. You moan, fingers tangled in his hair, while your other hand explores the broad expanse of his back, craving the feel of him, unable to get enough.

“Joel,” you whimper, his name almost a question on your lips. 

He doesn't pause, thrusting with just the right pressure, almost ignoring your plea. You move your lips to his shoulder and whisper, “I’m ovulating.”

That makes him stop. He props himself up on one forearm, his free hand on your ribs, his intense gaze locking onto yours. His eyes darken, pupils eclipsing the rich brown you know so well, and he groans deeply. Fuck. 

“Yeah, sweetheart? Mmm, big mistake telling me that, now I’m just going to pump you full of my cum all night, gonna fuck you again and again, keep you so full of me that it’ll have no choice but to stick this time.” 

You whimper at the thought, and his words go straight to your already wet core, your pussy fluttering around nothing, practically begging to be filled. 

You want him so bad, but right now, he wants you more — wants every part of you, wants to change you forever. His head dips back to your neck, and he's practically grinding into you, the pressure so intense it feels like he's already fucking you through your clothes. His beard rasps against your cheek, leaving a trail of red marks as he works his way down to your chest, hastily undoing buttons, uncovering your breasts, and teasing your nipples to hard, eager peaks.

It would almost be embarrassing how turned on you are right now if it were anyone but him, how easily he can fluster you, turn you into a babbling mess. 

“Well, not right now, but I am next —” you start to say, but quickly lose your train of thought as his whole hand comes down to cup your sex and the feel of his palm pressing against your dripping center. 

“Sorry darlin’, what was that?” He asks, doing little to hide the smug tone behind his voice, obviously pleased with the effect he has on you.

“I am next week, while I’m supposed to be in Jackson for work,” you manage to get out, the words coming out soft, a barely there thought, your attention mostly on the sensation of his thick finger that has now curled its way deep inside of you, your panties pushed to the side as they should never have been there in the first place, not with him in the room. 

“Come with me,” you ask, your words a tad breathless as he adds another finger to your dripping center, your slick coating them completely, and when he doesn’t answer, you’re not sure he heard you behind the haze of his arousal, the blood thrumming through his veins. Not that you can blame him, it’s so hard to fucking think, to breathe, to string together a rational thought that isn’t dirty when you’re together like this. 

“Gotta feel this pussy first,” he rasps, the words slightly muffled against the tenderness of your breast. His words sober you for a brief second, as you playfully push against him in protest. 

"That's not what I meant, and you know it," you laugh, and he can't suppress the goofy grin spreading across his face. He loves this—the playful banter, the way you bring out his lighter side, the perfect blend of passion and humor that flows between you. It's always been like this, effortlessly flirty, endlessly fun. You’re the perfect combination of sexy and cute, and better yet, you’re all his. 

“Alright baby, I’ll come with you, on one condition,” he says, adding a third finger, and the stench of him is intoxicatingly delicious, perfect, and intense in the best way. You already feel so fucked out, you’re not sure how he’s managing to find the will to set fucking conditions right now, but still, you humor him — 

“Conditions, huh?” You moan as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, the pads of his fingers grazing at the soft spongey spot inside of you that makes you see stars. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, conditions,” he says, nipping at your chin. “You’re gonna be the good girl I know you are and come all over my fingers, and then I’ll make sure that you’re full of me all week, whenever you want it baby, I’m all yours,” he rasps, his breath coming a bit more ragged now at the thought of your proposition and his. 

His fingers are still deep inside of you, he positions his wrist just right and brings the pad of his thumb to your clit. Your slick, combined with his filthy fucking mouth, and his thick cock pressed against you, creates the perfect conditions for the inevitable. He’s never not made you come, and you sure as hell know he’s not about to change that narrative now. 

If it can happen, it will happen. 

“Come on pretty girl, show me how pretty you come on your husband’s fingers,” he says, not really asking, but rather ordering in the tone that lights every nerve in your body on fire with arousal. 

The warmth in your lower belly spreads outward, wrapping you in a blanket of pleasure. Your limbs tingle, your vision blurs, and your toes curl as the intensity builds. For a split second, everything goes hazy, and you let go, surrendering to him completely. He takes control, guiding you through the waves of ecstasy, pulling you into a bliss that only he knows how to reach.

“So good for me, sweetheart. You are so perfect.” 

He makes you come once more soon after and then fucks you deep and slow. It’s all whispered praises in your ear, a firm grip on your hips, and his cock barely leaving your cunt before he’s slamming back into you, desperate to keep the tip of him as close to your cervix as possible. 

Come with me, you moan, and he knows exactly what you mean this time. 

“Shit, baby, I can feel you squeezing me, taking me so good —” his words break with a moan as you come for the third time, falling apart on his cock, before he adds “gripping me so goddamn tight.” 

His thrusts slow and he buries himself to the hilt inside of you, and paints your insides in thick ropes of cum, holding your gaze as he throbs inside, not daring to move and risk any of his spend coming out before he wants it to. 

He plants a soft kiss on your lips and tells you that you’re going to look even more gorgeous with his baby inside of you. 

++++

The delayed flight to Jackson was just another reminder of life's unpredictability.

What started as a simple 30-minute delay quickly turned into an hour, then two, and now you're both three hours past your original departure time. 

You find yourselves in one of the newer airport lounges, sitting in overly posh chairs. It's surprisingly uncrowded given the chaos that usually comes with airport delays. Your luggage is safely tucked away in the lockers, your bellies are full from the free snacks, and the irritation from earlier is fading thanks to the complimentary drinks. The ambiance is unexpectedly chic. Even the bathrooms feel upscale—private, enormous mirrors, fancy soap, and paper towels so luxurious they might as well be hand towels.

Joel is deep into a well-worn Western novel, its cover frayed and spine cracked from countless readings. You're scrolling through an article about the best positions for conceiving, smirking when you realize you and Joel have tried most of them, and then some. Just as you're in the middle of your read, your cycle tracking app sends a notification—you're at peak fertility, starting now. Have fun! ;) 

Shit. 

Who knows when you'll actually make it to your hotel room in Jackson tonight? You glance up from your phone, stealing a look at Joel. He's always handsome, but there's something about him in his glasses—the way the frames sit on the bridge of his nose, the slight furrow in his brow as he focuses on the words in his book. It's endearing how he still reads with such intensity, even though you know he's revisited these same pages countless times.

Your pussy flutters and aches at the sight, giving you a cheeky idea. He did say you could have him whenever you wanted. 

You clear your throat, hoping to pull Joel's focus from his book, but he doesn't seem to notice. You try again, this time a bit louder, and all you get is a distracted, "You okay, sweetheart?" without him even glancing up.

You know you’ll need to be more direct to capture his attention.

"I'm going to use the restroom," you say, and he nods, eyes still on the page. Once inside, you leave the door unlocked and hike up your dress, exposing your bare breasts. You pinch your nipples between your thumb and forefinger until they harden, then push out your chest, angling your smartphone for the perfect shot. The result is a provocative selfie that you know will make him put that book down.

You attach it to a message for Joel and quickly type out your request — come knock me up in the bathroom, Cowboy. 

He’s joining you in the bathroom faster than you thought he would, careful to avoid any curious eyes or draw attention to the fact that he’s about to absolutely wreck his wife.

Once inside, he locks the door behind him and grabs your waist, guiding you back until your hips hit the counter's edge. His hands roam over your body, lifting the hem of your dress until it's bunched around your waist. He kisses you with a desperate hunger, as if he hasn't had you in years.

"You sure you want to do this here, sweetheart?" he groans against your lips, shifting between playful nips, gentle kisses on your cheeks, and heated sucks at your jawline. The anticipation in his touch is palpable, but he's still checking to make sure this is what you want.

“Never been more sure of anything in my life except for the day I married you. Please fuck me, Joel, need to feel you stretch me out” you say, your words crossed between a whimper and a plea. 

God, just when he thought you couldn’t get any more perfect. 

“Yeah? My girl wants me to fill up her tight little hole,” he teases, already knowing the answer. He moves his hand to your dripping core and lets out a deep groan when he discovers you’ve already removed the barrier of your underwear for him. 

“Fuck baby, I’d do anything to taste you right now, wanna hear all those pretty noises you make and the way my name sounds when you moan it for me,” and you soften more under the heat of his words, letting your mind drift to thoughts of how good it feels when his head is between your legs, gently wringing orgasm after orgasm out of you like it’s his fucking job. 

“Gotta make this one quick, though. Can you be quiet for me, sweetheart?” He asks, and all you can do is nod. 

"Good girl—c'mere, turn around," he instructs, guiding you with his hands until you've spun around, your hips pressing into the sink. His hand travels down your spine, making you arch toward him slightly, and he bends you over even more. In the mirror, you see him behind you, his eyes locked on yours as he quickly unbuckles his belt and lowers his jeans to mid-thigh. The anticipation is electric as you watch him in the reflection, knowing exactly what's coming next.

He spits into his hand and jerks himself, all the while holding your gaze, admiring the way your breasts are pressed up against the counter, perky and perfect. His cock twitches at the thought of what they’ll look like all swollen and full of milk. 

He lines himself up against your wet and waiting hole, holds your hips steady with one hand, and gathers your hair in his fist with the other. He gently tugs it so your chin is angled up, eyes even straighter looking into the mirror. He loves watching you take it. 

“You’re gonna watch as I fuck you, sweetheart,” He rasps as he presses himself into you in one stroke. You’re so fucking wet, your greedy cunt accepts him easily, despite his size. Like it knows what it wants, and what it needs. There’s a dull delicious sting at the intrusion.

“Oh my god, Joel, you’re so bi—” You break off in a moan as he pulls out and then slams himself into you deep and hard. 

“God damn, look at you, my perfect fucking girl. Taking me so well, like this cock was made for you, huh baby?” His voice is firm, but quiet, just above a whisper. He’s not wasting time, he sets a punishing pace, and all you can do is let him use you. 

“Fuck me, fuck me, fill me, fill me” you cry out, and he brings his hand to cover your mouth. 

“What’d I say about being quiet, baby?” He holds you like that. You slip your hand between your thighs and rub your clit, a dangerous combination when he’s fucking you in this position. You come so fast that you think it might be a record. The tightening of your cunt has him on the precipice of his release.

“You’re fucking mine,” he growls, fucking his cum into you over and over, using every drop of him to give you what you want.

It might not stick this time, hell, it might not stick next time, but one thing is for certain — Joel will keep you full and fucked either way. 

Part 2

Reblog + Support Writers + Comment

A/N Continued: Thank you so much for reading! On a side note, my engagement here has been really low lately. :( As much as I'd love to say I don't care about the notes, I won't lie and tell you I don't need them for validation. If you like this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I'll love you forever.

Tagging some moots for visibility (lmk if you want to be removed if the subject matter isn't your thing. No hard feelings!) @endlessthxxghts @syd-djarin @auteurdelabre @morning-star-joy@theoasisofthings @chulopascal @morallyinept @sweetercalypso @xdaddysprincessxx @burntheedges @punkshort @pedrostories @bastardmandennis @milly-louise @ghostwritesthings @josephquinnswhore @drunk-and-capable @survivingandenduring @hotgirlbedtimescenarios @ohheypedrito @joeldjarin @nerdieforpedro @amyispxnk @paleidiot @ghostwritesthings @kulekehe @darkheartgatita @goldenhxurs @javiscigarette @ro-nahime-things @gwendibleywrites @missladym1981 @morgaussy

[triple-a-battery-aaarts]

I'm starting to lose it with my fellow pjo book fans. Specifically about the pearls.

Have we lost the ability to think critically??? First of all,this is an adaptation,things are going to be different. Secondly, Percy has already had an instance (with the pen, albeit temporarily) of losing things, AND accidentally (with the spear) breaking things???

Literally the moment I saw four my first thought was "Well, one of those isn't making it to Hades."...... Like what??? And even if it does.... So what??? This is an adaptation. It's not going to be exactly like the books. Those fuckers are old. Not ancient but hey, times change and the next gen/People who didn't catch it the first time around deserve to be able to enjoy it the way we did.

Also, about the deadline shit:

This a.) Creates more tension cause now there is a war happening (which like.... I think is a cool element), And b.) It further cements these kids desire to do good and to be better than their parents. Which..... Yk..... Is kinda a major point in this story???

(specifically: they now have no real incentive to do this. They SHOULD just go home. But they actively choose 'No, we are better than this, and we can still fix it'. Hubris may not be their fatal flaw, but my god is it what makes them human, and what cements that they are still just kids! This is a great addition imo)

There needs to be tension. This will, Inevitably create it. There is still so much to go. And Rick is notorious for monkey wrenching shit. Hold fast y'all, for fucks sake.

Anyway, I personally loved episode six. I love the change in the deadline having passed, and the four pearls.... The lighting kinda sucked ass, and there weren't any super obvious cameos of the Di'Angelos but hey. It is what it is.

But seriously guys, let's think critically and not let our nostalgia cloud our judgement of this. Kill the cop in your head. Fr.

Edit (spoiler for ep 7): They lost a pearl. Shocker. I CALLED IT!!! Also this episode had way more changes than were- eh. But hey! Uncle Rick is evil and we love him anyway so really no big complaints still.

[transmascissues]

it's silly but the biggest reason why im not into t yet is bc im so afraid of losing my hair. do you have any solutions/tips for it?

first of all, i don’t think it’s silly — it’s natural to be worried when hair loss is talked about by so many people as like…one of the worst results of aging for men. listening to my dad talk about how much he hates balding definitely did not make me feel particularly good about the knowledge that i may very well be joining him someday. i’m not saying the fear is right, because i don’t think hair loss is something awful that we should avoid at all costs, but it’s an understandable fear given the beauty standards we’re working with, and it’s one that a lot of us (myself included) feel.

one thing that’s helped me is just…paying more attention to the guys that i interact with on a daily basis. i’ve learned two things from it: 1) hair loss is super fucking common. i’d say it’s much harder to find an adult man who isn’t balding at all than it is to find one who’s completely bald. and 2) if you forget everything you’ve been told about how bad hair loss is, you’ll realize that quite frankly, every single one of those guys looks totally fucking fine. it doesn’t ruin their appearance and make them ugly, it looks totally natural and isn’t really even something you’d notice if you weren’t looking for it. we put so much weight on it but it’s really just not that big of a deal. i’ll hear my parents talk shit about men in my family who are losing their hair when i didn’t even notice a difference last time i saw them. it’s one of those things (like so many other appearance-related things) that you really only notice at all because you’ve been taught that you’re supposed to care about it.

this isn’t something i’ve done personally, but if you really want to desensitize yourself to the idea of it, embrace the time-honored queer tradition of just shaving your whole damn head! find out what you’d look like without hair, find out how you feel about it and what you can do that makes you feel good about your appearance without hair, test the waters while it’s still a temporary change and not something permanent. that way, it won’t feel like this big scary unknown, and you’ll actually have a frame of reference for your feelings about how you look without hair rather than accepting the societal assumption that you’ll inevitably hate it. if you don’t want to actually shave your head, you could also just fuck around with bald filters or photoshop and see what happens.

oh, and if you’re attracted to men, keep an eye out for guys who are bald or balding and also hot as fuck. in my experience, there’s no insecurity or potential future insecurity that being gay for other men hasn’t helped me with. just off the top of my head, i can think of a couple actors who i think are absolutely fucking gorgeous who have helped me get over my fears about losing my hair. despite what our anti-aging-obsessed world might want you to think, there is no such thing as a physical feature that automatically makes someone less attractive, and while making attractiveness less of a priority in your life is good, it can’t hurt to also give yourself some proof that actually, you might lose your hair and look hot as hell doing it.

basically, entertain the possibility that it won’t be a bad thing at all! whether that’s just because it turns out to be a neutral thing for you or because you end up actually liking it, it’s not an inherently bad thing. i’ve ended up liking a lot of things that were “supposed to” be bad effects of t — i love the weight i’ve gained and the new shape it gives my body, i get a lot of gender euphoria from the fact that my acne is now on parts of my face that i saw a lot of guys in high school get it and i’m not complaining about the scars i get from it either because i’ve always liked the added texture that acne scars give my skin, and so on. i think there’s a lot of joy to be had in the changes we’re taught to fear, once we look past that conditioning and actually explore how we feel about it.

but if it’s something you really don’t want and you just want to improve your chances of not having to deal with it, it’s not like there’s nothing you can do! products like finasteride (oral) and minoxidil (usually topical but i think there might also be oral versions) are pretty commonly used among trans guys, for the purpose of avoiding hair loss and for other reasons, and there are plenty of other anti-hair loss products out there (though i don’t know how effective any one of them might be). if it’s a big enough deal for you, you can just decide that you’ll go off of t if/when you start noticing signs of it, since no longer having higher t levels would stop the process in its tracks. and if you don’t find prevention options that work for you so it ends up happening, you can always explore different hair styles (judging by the pattern of hair loss i see in my family, i suspect that keeping my hair long would make it less obvious if i started losing mine), find your preferred method of covering it when you don’t feel good about it (personally i love a good beanie generally and would probably wear them a lot more if i didn’t have hair to worry about because my main complaint is the way they press my hair onto my neck), or just shave it all off if you don’t like the look of the partial balding but don’t mind a shaved head. the point being — you have options!

at the end of the day, whether you go on t or not, you’re going to see your body change as you age in ways that aren’t always going to be attractive to others or aesthetically pleasing to you. that’s just the reality of having a body. even if you never went on t, you’d get older and you might see your hair thin out even if you don’t bald, you’ll see your skin start to wrinkle and sag in places that used to be smooth, your metabolism might slow or your body fat might start to gather in new places; hell, you might lose your hair for a totally different reason and end up in the same place but without the benefits of having been on t that whole time. life is full of bodily changes like that. transphobes will fearmonger about the permanent changes of testosterone all day long but the truth is, there is no escaping permanent bodily changes. whether or not you go on t, your body now isn’t the same as it will be in 1 or 5 or 10 or 20 or 50 years, just like it isn’t the same as it was at any point in your life before now. our bodies are never supposed to stop growing and aging and changing throughout our lives. there’s no guaranteeing that we’ll love every single change our bodies go through, but that’s okay! there are so many things in life that are more important than the way our bodies look. even if you go on t and lose your hair and don’t like how it looks, your life won’t be ruined; plenty of other things will bring you joy and more than make up for the insecurities.

just think about the gender euphoria and relief from dysphoria that t could give you. would losing your hair be bad enough to outweigh all of that? or is it just the pressure of a society that decided balding is bad that’s making you fear one single change despite how much joy you could have if you let that fear go? only you can decide if going on t is worth the potential downsides for you, but i suspect that for most of us, the benefits of going on t far outweigh the possibility of side effects like hair loss happening down the line.

[phantomarine]

Clam's Quick Tips for Starting Your Very First Webcomic

Howdy! Here are the three bits of advice I tend to give people who ask me about getting into webcomic-making. Maybe they can help you jump into the fray with a little less fear.

1) Make Your First Chapter a Pilot Episode

You will be told by webcomic veterans to start with a short, simple comic idea first - which is wise - but if all you can think about is your big magnum opus, then you might as well hop in, right? Otherwise you'll just be glancing back at the other cooler project forever.

But if you can't start with a small simple story, start on a small, simple part of that larger story. Your first chapter should be a snapshot of the main conflict - show us a simple scene with few characters, ease us in slowly, keep things clear and focus on emotion/impact/clarity. Get the audience to care by offering something easily digested, but full of promise.

Once you're done with that 'pilot' chapter, and you're feeling more comfortable with the whole comic process, you can open the gates and show us the larger world. At that point, you'll be way more ready.

2) Simplify Your Art Style For Your Own Sanity

Always try to make your webcomic's art style as simple as possible - the standard rule is to use only 75% of your artistic skill for every comic page you make. Otherwise you will burn out quickly and terribly.

But you also need to be PROUD of your art style. If you're really feeling itchy, add a couple bells and whistles to your style so you can look at the finished page and say "Yeah, looks cool." You'll find the right balance the more you draw.

Also, don't be afraid to change your art style as you go along. Ultimate consistency is often impossible in webcomics anyway - so embrace your desire to try new things, streamline your work, whatever you feel needs to happen to be happiest. Sometimes the coolest part of reading a webcomic is noticing that style change - so don't hesitate to embrace it!

3) Resist the Reboot! RESIST!

The curse/blessing of drawing the same things over and over is that you'll inevitably get better at drawing those things. The trouble comes when you look back at old stuff and start thinking "Damn, I could draw that way better now."

You must recognize that this feeling never goes away. Not after a hundred pages. Not after three hundred. Not after a thousand.

I think everyone should be allowed one soft reboot for their first webcomic. Redraw some panels that bother you. Change up some dialogue if it doesn't make sense with your new story ideas. Do maintenance, basically. One of the beauties of webcomics is that they can be easily edited, without reprinting a whole book or remaking a whole game.

But if the ultimate purpose of a webcomic is to tell a story, then constant reboots will just be retelling the same story - slightly better each time, but the same at its core. We've heard it before. Most audiences would rather you save your strength and just keep going, rather than circling back year after year and going "Wait wait wait! I'll do it better this time."

Reboot early, not often, and only when you absolutely must! You're a storyteller, and you're constantly getting better at telling your story. Don't be ashamed of it - look back how much ground you've covered, and keep walking!

---

That's a good start. Happy webcomicking - don't be afraid to jump in, but be prepared to learn a lot very quickly. And if this advice doesn't work for you or adhere to how you did it, that's absolutely fine - webcomics are diverse by nature, and so are their creation processes. Feel out what works best for you, and good luck!

[norrizzandpia]

Gentle (LN4)

Summary: In which Y/n’s past is a little haunted, but Lando knows exactly how to make her understand she’s safe with him.

Warnings: verbal abuse, panic attack, sort of PTSD but not directly named

Note: i really like this one

Lando had always been known as a gentle soul. Whether that was with kids or animals or adults, he treated people with a certain level of mercy that was adored by many. That didn’t change with Y/n. In fact, it intensified.

She hadn’t had that much experience when it came to relationships. Only two boyfriends before meeting Lando and one of them only lasted two months while the other was abusive. Not physically, but verbally. Constantly tearing her down and stripping her of everything she deemed worthy about herself. She was so guarded, so quiet, that when Lando and her started dating he immediately assumed her last boyfriend hadn’t been the best. That idea was proven right when the two of them had their first fight and she had begged him to forgive her even though she had done nothing wrong.

Tears streaming down her face after his voice raised, she cried, “Lando, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. This is my fault. I’m sorry. I’m-” Her voice gave out as Lando stared at her. The cowering of her shoulders and the avoidance of eye contact told him everything he needed to know.

He approached her with added caution, making sure she was comfortable with his actions to take her in his arms, “It’s okay, my love. It’s okay. This isn’t your fault. I’m sorry for scaring you. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He whispered as he pushed her head into his chest, rubbing over her hair softly.

He had sat with her like that for hours, holding her and reminding her that he wouldn’t ever take advantage of her in the way she had been before. Reminding her that she was safe with him.

—

The next time her past came to taunt them was a few months later. Y/n had leapt out of bed early in the morning to make breakfast for him, wanting nothing more to surprise the man she loved. However, that plan took a turn when she looked away from the pan and toaster for too long. Burnt toast and charcoaled bacon had her staring down in defeat. She had been trying to clean up the mess when he had woken up and walked in.

“What happened here?” He asked her. His tone wasn’t accusatory, actually it had been soft and concerned, but Y/n was taken back to two years before when she had messed up the dinner and her ex-boyfriend had come in, yelling about her incompetence and inability to do anything by herself.

“Nothing,” She shook her head, determined to protect herself from, in her mind, the inevitable lashing she would get for her innocent mistake.

Lando had come over, his hands running up and down her shaking arms, and coaxed the soapy pan out of her grasp, “Love, what’s wrong?”

Still, she didn’t clock his concern for her. Her eyes darted around before she choked out, “I accidentally burnt the toast and eggs when I was trying to make you breakfast. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been looking at my phone. I could have prevented this and now your kitchen smells bad. I’m so sorry. I can-”

His soft kiss against her hairline stopped her rambling, he already knew, “It’s okay, Y/n. Thank you for thinking of me. That’s all that matters.”

Her head dropped down to study the dish water, sad and disappointed in her mistake. If he wasn’t going to beat her up for it, she had been programmed to do it herself.

Lando knew this, and was extremely familiar with it when it came to her. He was an expert in the telltale signs of her dismay and overthinking. So, when he saw the way he started to lose her, he turned her around. Pushing the hair out of her face and giving her the sweetest smile, he reminded her, “Baby, it was an innocent mistake. People burn things all the time. Most people wouldn’t even make breakfast to begin with. You always say the thought’s what counts. That applies here too.”

Her body tanged around him, her arms wrapping around his waist and head snuggling into his chest, Y/n nodded lightly.

“I know,” She mumbled, “I just could’ve done better for you.”

Chuckling and pulling her head back softly to kiss her gently, Lando whispered, “You are and will always be enough for me just by yourself.”

—

Y/n was doing better. A year after the breakfast incident, she was thriving, realizing just how much Lando loved her for her. That was until she stumbled across a video from the deep depths of her camera roll. The video had been from a time when Chris, her ex, had been so verbally abusive that she was trying to get a restraining order against him. In order to do that, however, she needed proof and the only way to do that was to record him secretly when he went off on her. The poor girl had been alone in Lando’s apartment as he went out to grab groceries for their movie night when the sound came blasting through her speakers.

One swipe had it playing, “YOU STUPID BITCH! WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE PULLING SOMETHING LIKE THAT?”

Her small voice squeaked, “I just wanted to go out with my friends. I’m sorry.”

He didn’t stop, “AND TURN OFF YOUR LOCATION? FUCKING STUPID WHORE. WHAT WERE YOU DOING THEN? I BET HOOKING UP WITH SOME GUY IN THE BACK OF AN ALLEY LIKE THE DIRTY SLUT YOU ARE.”

Y/n could hear her own tears begin both in the video and in reality, “No, we were just at Paige’s house. We didn’t go out to a bar at all. I know how you feel about me doing that.”

His voice continued to dominate hers, “HOW DO I KNOW YOU AREN’T LYING? HUH?”

She sighed, clearly exhausted, “I don’t know, Chris. I’m sorry.”

He scoffed, “Yeah, sounds about right. The whore can’t prove she wasn’t out fucking every guy she saw. God, you’re lucky to be with me. No one will ever want you.”

With that, the door was slamming shut and the video was ending, leaving a crying Y/n in its wake. Her whole body shaking, she felt the panic attack coming on as she threw her phone to the side and got up from bed. She tried to get to the kitchen, maybe grab water and physically force the rising emotions down, but she got halfway there when she fully broke down in the middle of the hallway. Gasping for air and sobbing by herself like she always had, Y/n clutched the side of the wall.

The sound of the door closing and feet coming to a halt echoed distantly through her ears. She knew it was Lando, but a part of her was still back there. In that house, in that relationship with a man that, if he had ever found her in the state she was in, would have laughed in her face and locked her away in a bedroom to figure it out herself.

Even so, Lando’s concerned face soothed her. His hands scooping her up and pulling her into his embrace, pleading with her to breathe.

“Baby, you’re okay. It’s okay. You’re here with me. Only me. Come back to me.” He whispered in her ear as he placed her hand on his heart, showing her the rhythm in which she needed to reach.

They stayed that way for a few moments as Y/n came back down to Earth. She didn’t need to tell him she had been triggered for him to know. He always knew.

His hands tangled in her hair, he smiled at his, now, calm girlfriend, “Welcome back, baby.”

Her smile was soft and weak, but there and that’s all that mattered to him.

“Thank you, Lan. I’m-” She began to say, but his kissing her interrupted her apology.

Pulling back, he drew small shapes on her cheekbones, “Remember, we don’t say that here unless you actually have something to be sorry for. Which is usually me.”

The two laughed together before he brought her back to his bed and laid with her, protecting her from the scary memories in her mind. The night went on, his hands caring for her in the way they always had, and it just reinforced the fact that Y/n was with the perfect man.

A gentle man.

[suashii]

— 𝒸𝓇𝓊𝓈𝒽 ౨ৎ

suna rintaro x reader. 1.3k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ college au

note: this is a repost! just wanted to share it again for his birthday

you like the enigma that is suna rintaro.

you aren’t sure exactly what you like about him, but you know that you like him. it’s something that your friends will never let you live down.

you don’t blame them for it—their teasing and the never-ending questions that are thrown at you every time they happen to catch you stealing a glance at him. your infatuation confuses you, too, because suna rintaro is a weird guy—certainly not someone most people would have a crush on.

he comes to class in his pajamas, pokémon pants and a plain hoodie—the hood pulled over his head, scrunched around the edges, the strings tied into a messy bow. you rarely ever see his hair but on the infrequent occasion that you do, it’s never brushed and the dark strands are either tangled or sticking up, out of place. every so often a pair of black-framed lenses are perched on the bridge of his nose, sliding down the slope with the downward tilt of his head. suna has little regard for his appearance and a clear lack of professionalism, but still, you like him.

he sits in the third of four rows in the classroom, the one in front of you. the screen of his laptop is always dimmed but not so much that you can’t see what’s on it. the device never displays the course material, rather, it often plays an episode of whatever anime suna’s currently watching. you’ve never gotten the chance to see if his eyes flit up to glance at the projector or to follow along with the professor’s written examples, but the absence of anything to write with or on gives you the impression that he doesn’t. suna’s priorities aren’t straight, but still, you like him.

he eats alone, at least whenever you see him in the dining hall. you’ve noticed that he leans toward the build-your-own-sandwich place, though you have seen him swap out the subs for a salad or whatever homestyle meal was being served. one thing holds true for whatever he chooses to eat—he stuffs as much food into his mouth as he can. it can be cute, the way his cheeks puff up and his lips pout out, but his technique leads to an inevitable mess. any sauce or crumbs left behind on his face are wiped away with the back of his hand instead of a napkin. suna doesn’t know the first thing about table manners, but still, you like him.

you like suna and you’ve yet to figure out why.

you plan to change that today—the liking him part or uncovering the reason behind your feelings, you’re not sure, but your professor has given you the perfect excuse to figure out what the hell is going on.

“what are you doing?” your friend asks, the rustling of your papers catching her attention. you don’t answer but your eyes do dart down and slightly to the right where suna’s sitting. words aren’t needed for her to know what’s running through your head. “seriously?”

the girl easily pieces together that you’re on your way to recruit suna as your partner for the upcoming assignment. so does your companion sitting beside her. he speaks up this time. “you’re going to risk your grade over a crush?”

“it might not be that bad,” you shrug, the weight of your bag making the action more difficult than it should have been. “i’ll talk to you two later.”

they share a knowing glance before waving you off. you can feel their eyes burning a hole into the back of your head as you make your way down the step and past your classmates to steal the seat next to suna. as usual, his eyes are glued to the screen ahead of him, intently following the events of the animated show playing on it.

you’ve never sat this close to him before. your proximity warrants you a closer look at him. he looks more delicate than you ever thought he was—skin that seems as though it was carved from marble and incredibly unique greyish yellow eyes. he’s pretty and you could stare at him forever but you decide that would be creepy. instead, you lightly tap his shoulder to gain his attention.

suna’s finger reaches out to click the space bar on his keyboard to pause his anime. he turns to you, countenance blank.

“suna, right?” you ask despite knowing his name. “do you want to work on the paper together?”

a short moment passes before his reply. “sure.”

“great!” you’re not so sure his agreeance is a good thing or if it’ll end with you doing the entirety of the essay, but he doesn’t need to know that you and just about everyone else doubt his work ethic. “so, we can pick any topic that falls under the umbrella of-”

“the edo period,” he finishes your sentence.

you blink and nod, surprised at suna’s correct interruption. you wouldn’t admit it to your friends, but it’s become a habit for your eyes to wander to suna during class. you were sure he spent the entire time up until now preoccupied with his anime. you look to the board—it isn’t written there. your gaze whizzes over to his laptop—he hasn’t changed tabs on the device. he must have actually been listening to the lecture.

so you do pay attention in here, you think with a breathy laugh.

“it was a filler episode so i took one of my earbuds out.” his unexpected statement makes you stiffen. did you say that out loud? right beside him? you turn to apologize for the jab but suna doesn’t look offended; he’s grinning. “i’m usually not that attentive.”

you huff out a laugh. despite the comment, suna’s unforeseen diligence—albeit short-lived—is enough to give you a little hope about the paper. it’s possible that he isn’t as unproductive as he appears—maybe his priorities aren’t askew.

the scale that is your like of suna seems to be weighing heavily on the ‘you totally like him!!’ side. you clear your throat and shake your head to rid your mind of thoughts of him. “anything specific you want to write about?”

you and suna spend the last few minutes of class discussing your project. he brings up multiple interesting topics that the two of you could explore. it’s impressive and he exceeds any expectations you had of him. you can feel your pulse quickening with every word he speaks until it jumps at your professor’s dismissal of class.

for the first time ever, you’re not rushing to get out of the building.

as you pack up your belongings, your traitorous eyes drift to suna’s figure. you didn’t notice it earlier, perhaps because you arrived later than him this once, but his usual attire is traded in for some still comfy sweatpants and an oversized crewneck today. you voice your surprise. “no pokémon pajamas today, huh?”

he shakes his head, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “sorry to disappoint.”

you’re far from disappointed. while you have no problem with his typical apparel, the simple outfit looks good on him. the sleeves hang low on his arms, hiding his hands so that he has to make an effort to grab anything. it’s cute, you think. the ensemble isn’t much of a step up from what he typically wears, but maybe he isn’t as careless about his appearance as you thought.

interacting with him closely has done nothing to shake your unexplainable feelings for the man. if anything, all it did was make you tiptoe farther and farther to the edge of the diving board. there’s one more thing you have to see before you dive into the deep end of what is suna rintaro.

“hey, do you want to work on the paper over lunch?”

hope you enjoyed this short little fic! if so, consider reblogging and telling me about your favorite part :3

[kaizokuou-ni-naru]

What's your opinion on the idea of the "chosen one" trope, and how it relates to Luffy in particular? Most of the controversy I've seen over Gear 5 seems to be about that specifically.

this is a really interesting question, and one i had to mull over for a bit! i think the idea of a 'chosen one' or 'destiny' more broadly can reasonably rub a lot of people the wrong way, especially in a story where freedom is such a strong thematic focus- the idea that luffy's actions might be preordained and not driven by his own will feels inherently wrong. (fortunately, i don't think they are.)

the short answer is that i think the use of prophecy in one piece works (at least for me) because it never feels like anyone else is making luffy's decisions for him. this is why it feels somewhat incorrect to me to call him a 'chosen one'- he very much makes all his choices himself.

there are prophecies surrounding him- about joy boy, about the dawn of the world, about nika- but luffy doesn't know about them, and if he did he wouldn't care. they don't define anything about him, how he acts, how he views himself. the world and narrative shapes itself around luffy, and not the other way around. you get the sense that even in the total absence of any prophecy surrounding luffy, he would still be doing the exact same thing he is doing because he only ever does exactly what he wants to do. he's as inevitable as the rising sun! the future changes to fit him!

one piece generally rejects the concept of unchangeable fate out of hand- if you tell luffy something can't be done he'll take it as a personal challenge- but it does have a lot to say about inherited will. i think it would be more accurate to say that all the strawhats and their allies, luffy especially, have in some way come to embody the inherited will and dreams of the people who came before them, whether they know it or not, both through their own experiences and because of who they already were as people.

like, the prophecies about luffy don't say he's destined to become the pirate king, or anything so specific as that. he decided on his own that he was going to do that, and that has always been his goal- to be completely free and have those he cares about be completely free. that's what he values. and it just so happens that that trait makes him fit the image of the liberator.

[tanadrin]

I liked this video from Jamelle Bouie a lot, and I liked it even more because he delivered it as a floating eyes and mouth over an apple.

I'm going to respond to this comment as an apple because I kind of like doing it. It's fun. And I'm gonna respond to this comment by way of a story.

So, all Americans know about the anti-slavery movement, the abolitionist movement. And the way we're taught about the abolitionist movement or the anti-slavery movement, whatever you want to call it, is kind of that this was inevitable--that obviously slavery is terrible and obviously there are people against it and it was gonna end. We teach it as a thing that was bound to happen. So the Civil War comes and slavery is ended, and it's sort of a very neat story.

But I'm gonna ask you to put yourself in the perspective of an abolitionist or an anti-slavery politician in, say, 1840 or 1848; and if you are one of these people, you have a deep-seated opposition to slavery. If you're an abolitionist, you may have spent the previous 10 or 20 years traveling the country, giving speeches, rallying people, doing everything you can to stir up moral outrage at slavery. If you're a politician, you have been working, doing a grind of politics--somewhat dangerous, because people may not like slavery, but they're not super thrilled about black people either--but you are in legislatures, you are filing petitions, you are building coalitions, you are trying to make whatever headway you can to, if not challenge slavery, then at least challenge some of the racist and anti-black laws that are on the books. Both--whether you're an anti-slavery politician or ablitionist--you do not think in 1848 that slavery is gonna be over in your lifetime. You hope that it might be; but you have no particular expectation that it will be. You are not optimistic about the end of slavery. You may not even be optimistic about the world as it exists, because you look around and you see human bondage and horrible brutality that's been there for hundreds of years, and for all you know will be there when you're long dead.

So the question to ask is, why do these things? Why did these people bother? Why did they continue struggling against slavery, despite not really having any optimism about the end of the institution? And the answer--beyond a deep-seated sense of moral commitment--is that these people didn't need to be optimistic in the ultimate outcome, they just needed to be optimistic in the ability of humans, of people to make change; they needed to be hopeful about human agency. That's what they needed, and that's what they had. And so they did not know how far they would be able to take the baton, but they worked and hoped that when the end of their lives came, they'd be able to hand it off to people who could take it even further than they could.

The abolitionists and the anti-slavery politicians were essentially living out what Antonio Gramsci called the pessimism of the intellect and the optimism of the will. I think the exact quote is, "I'm a pessimist because of my intelligence, but I am an optimist because of my will." What this is is recognizing the reality of the world around you, not looking at the world as if it's any better--or any worse--but any better than it is; but not pinning your hopes for a better world on some sort of linear change, linear move towards something better; but pinning your hopes on one of the true constants of human society, which is the ability of human beings to work their will on the world, and the ability of humans to push and persevere.

So, this is all to say that I am not asking anyone to be optimistic about the world. That's very silly; the world's a very terrible place right now--not the worst it could be, but pretty bad--and I do not contest that. But I do think that people should have a bit of this optimism of the will, and this optimism about human agency, and our ability to build a better world. And this is sort of where my very strong distaste for doomerism comes from, because the sense that it is the worst, and nothing can be better, is just fundamentally incompatible with any kind of optimism of the will, any kind of belief in human agency and belief in our ability to change the world around us. And it's also why you will find me on this account often pushing back against the most negative renderings of what is happening in our society, for example. Not because I think everything is great--I do not--but because I do think that the path towards change requires one to have clear eyes about the situation in which you find yourself; and clear eyes both means recognizing the bad, but it also means recognizing those areas where you can make gains, and where you can find success; and where you can win minor victories.

And you may say, well, what's the point of a minor victory? But I think what the anti-slavery struggle demonstrates, what the civil rights struggle demonstrates, what the labor struggle demonstrates in this country, is that minor victories become fuel for modest victories, become fuel for major victories, and major victories can be the things that fundamentally change the entire field of play. So. Pessimism of the intellect, my friend, optimism of the will.

[star-anise]

This is what the fight is like

Sooo, apparently the extremely tenuous and recent nature of the LGBTQ+ community's legal right to exist was not actually super widely known to a lot of people on Tumblr?

Which clarifies some stuff in retrospect. I have so often wanted to grab people by their lapels and shout, "Stop picking on someone for not meeting your entry requirements! We need everyone we can get, you asshole! DON'T YOU KNOW HOW MUCH THEY HATE US OUT THERE?"

Aaaapparently... no, they did not know. Or they knew and were a conservative psyop preparing the ground for our loss of legal rights. Fun times!

So: Look, it is bad. Shit is scary. They really do hate us out there. You're not wrong.

But: This is what we've always fought. This boat we're in with its antique fittings and strange markings on the floor is a battleship. Work has always been going on in the basements, and when shit gets tough, we clear away clutter and roll out the cannons.

I found this chart a couple weeks ago and hung onto it because it felt like the map to my first 25 years on this earth:

[Image description: A graph titled "Same Sex Marriage: Public Polls since 1988." It is from FiveThirtyEight's NYT column. It records the percentage of US Americans polled who would say yes or no to legalizing same-sex marriage, from 1988 to 2011.

The two lines begin with roughly 10% saying yes in 1988, and 70% saying no; the two lines gradually draw closer over the years, until by 2011, the percent saying finally dips under 50%, and the group saying yes makes a tentative reach for the majority. End of image description.]

After some great social change has happened, when everyone has admitted that gay marriage is very cute and Pride is a colourful parade, hooray, people like to pretend that it was just natural and inevitable and happened on its own. People just became less prejudiced! Courts just decided on a case! Governments just passed a law!

In reality, it was a vicious fucking fight, every fucking time. Every fucking where. There are a lot of people who deeply, sincerely believe that a hundred years ago, society had good rules about sex and gender and intercourse and marriage, and that changing those rules has made the world worse. They don't always agree on the specifics, but they can work together far enough to fight anyone with new ideas.

This is why we are a community. Even when we don't have the same experiences of attraction or identity, even when we don't do the same things, even when we have wildly different ideas of a good time. Because when these groups take aim, we're all under fire, and none of us is responsible for why they hate us.

In some ways I think it's a miracle that there seems to be a generation that did not grow up, as I grew up, constantly glued to news reports about What Percentage of Society Hates Us this month. I can't imagine who I'd be if my brain and heart and soul hadn't been tied up, that whole time, in the political question of whether I'd get to dream of a decent future.

I think that it will give us strength to have people who can imagine a world where no one hates us. Who believe in it so strongly they can taste it. That's my prediction: If you didn't know this was coming, you'll be a boon to us, because we have always needed joy so fiercely, in this fight, to keep us going on. We have needed drag queens and punk bands and "her wife" and safe space stickers. Parade floats and wedding days and little dogs with rainbow collars, badges and banners and meetups, because more than anything else we need to fight our own despair, and our fear that the world will never get any better than this.

It will. We know it will. We can taste it.

Look up to the history, organizations, and people who've got us this far for information on what forms of activism will actually advance our political goals. Look to the side to make sure the comrades within reach are keeping their heads above water, and that you're keeping enough joy going to stay alive. Look back to see who's more vulnerable than you are that you might have forgotten or been tempted to leave behind. Look after each other. Look after yourself.

We can do this.

To your battle stations.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

(Full HC)

We've had the M6 bodyswapping with their familiars, we've had the M6 bodyswapping with each other… But what kind of antics would ensue if the M6 had a bodyswapping incident with MC?

The Arcana HCs: When M6 bodyswap with MC

~ anon, you spectacular genius ~

-- to set the scene --

You know you're in a magic-infused dream as soon as you open your eyes. Off to your right, you can see your beloved standing in the open air, staring at the glowing ball of light that hovers in front of them. You're about to remind them of the cardinal magic rule - don't touch the mystery orb - but by the time you call their name, it's too late. Imagine your surprise when you wake up to your own face staring back at you from your pillow!

Julian

He's staring at you in horror because he knew his eyebags were bad but he didn't know they were that bad

You, on the other hand, are experiencing all the physical ailments of a 6'4 human that never remembers to eat and the headache of needing a daily dose of six shots of espresso to function

He's immediately concerned about physical wellbeing and checking both of you over for any signs of injury. Yeah, he doesn't hate magic anymore, but he's still not comfortable with it

Coaches you on how to speak more like him in his voice. His voice is made for DRAMA, MC, you must PROJECT! ENUNCIATE! The people at the back can't hear you!

He's also going to encourage you to wear all of his normal getup. Enjoy wearing multiple layers of leather in a Mediterranean climate, MC, it's all for the *aesthetic*

You, however, have a secret weapon, and that is basic self care

You are going to eat so much nutritious food and drink so much clean water and get so much sleep and sunlight and exercise ...

It's also payback for how much you're sweating right now, because you won't be the one dealing with all the sore muscles later

He gets unbearably flustered when he changes clothes/bathes in your body and won't stop talking about it

Asra

They know exactly what's happened as soon as they wake up and they know it's their fault and they have 0 regrets. none.

Quick to suggest taking a lazy day so you won't have to juggle the shop with this. And then suggests sleeping in immediately after

He's very curious about what it's like to enjoy all kinds of experiences in your body, but he doesn't do anything until he knows you're comfortable with it (including changing)

Gets distracted/sidetracked every time they pass a mirror/window/shiny pot/remotely reflective surface because they like your face and it keeps surprising them to see it reflected back at them

You're about to watch yourself make the weirdest faces into the mirror as they try to document what your face looks like with different expressions

Has the time of his life picking out his outfit (to wear on your body) and watching you pick out yours (to wear on his body)

Pulls out every food item in your kitchen because they want to know if you taste things differently than they do. You're going to wake up with heartburn tomorrow

Might suggest pranking a few friends, but he's generally so averse to conflict that he won't be dead set on the idea

Occasionally taps into your bond, just to ground themself

Nadia

She's going to keep lying still for a moment or two to finish processing what's just happened and decide what she's going to do about it

And then she's going to teasingly tell you that you're welcome to help yourself to her body, and ask if she can help herself to yours

Tells a trusted Palace servant that she is indisposed and that neither of you will be available today (because there's no way she's going to try to swap jobs with you)

You might be tempted to set yourself up in front of a mirror and see if there's any pose or outfit in the world that Nadia can't look elegant in. She'll have a very amusing time watching you

Portia will inevitably hear about her absence and stop by at some point, which will only ramp up the hilarity

Nadia does suggest sneaking out at some point, your body makes for a great disguise and a day on the town sounds fun!

(You still haven't figured out how to tell her that what sets her apart more than her appearance is her bearing. You've never seen your own posture look that good)

Speaking of posture, welcome to life in a body that's excellently cared for! You can stretch in every direction and nothing hurts!

Though this much thick hair is heavy and hot

Muriel

Oh, he knows before he opens his eyes that something's off, because the furs feel unusually heavy over him and he's never shared a bed with anything bigger than he is

Speaking of, he had no idea that his body radiated that much heat. It's like lying next to a furnace (and it's more comforting than he expected. maybe you're onto something with all the snuggling)

He's violently uncomfortable with being in your body, mostly because he's assuming you'd like it back, and he doesn't want to do anything with it that you don't want him to

You, on the other hand, spend a day as the pilot of a body with unusual size and strength. You're going to have to be reeeeally careful not accidentally bump your head/break and tear stuff

What you choose to do with that is entirely up to you (and up to your body's capacity to contain Muriel's embarrassed blush)

Have fun flexing and watching yourself turn beet red

He is going to request that the two of you stay in the woods and out of sight, which certainly makes things easier

He's also going to apologize to you because he knows this was his fault (you'll have to convince him that being in his body is not a miserable experience, which he may have a hard time believing)

Inanna will be wolf-laughing at both of you the whole time

Portia

She woke up first and put two and two together. By the time you open your eyes, your face is staring back at you with this specific expression: >:3

Also, your body is buzzing (and I mean, buzzing) with energy. You feel like you could climb a mountain and still have the capacity to chop down at least 20 trees. Oh, and your hands are tiny

It's going to take a second for her to get used to your body, if only because she keeps stopping at every new movement/sensation to comment on it/experiment with it/tease you about it

As soon as you've had breakfast, she's taking the day off and dragging you into town for some good old-fashioned mischief

Because yeah, she just woke up in one of the most powerful magician's bodies in the world, she fully plans on taking advantage of that. Who wouldn't??

Long story short, your day is going to consist of running after her while she comments on your "low energy levels" (they're not low, they're human) and wreaks havoc with your magical capacity

The fountain in the town square spouts glowing orange water for a week after she passes through. Even she isn't sure how she did it, so you just have to wait it out and hope it won't poison anyone

Mazelinka saw you two at one point and cried laughing

Lucio

It takes him a while to figure out what's happened

Don't misread this as him assuming that things are normal. He knows things are not normal, because he's getting human sensations from his left arm

But his first assumption is that this is because his arm magically grew back in the night, and his second assumption when he sees his own body next to him is that he's been cloned

You wake up because he's frantically calling your name, asking why his voice sounds so weird and if you had to clone him as part of getting his human arm back and where you've disappeared to

Shrieks and falls backwards off the bed when his clone's eyes open and you tell him what's happened from his own body

You, on the other hand, are going to spend all day figuring out how to function with a metal arm. It's nowhere near as easy as he makes it look, plus it makes that whole side of your body cold

Lucio insists on doing your eyeliner (on his face) because yes, he loves you, and yes, he trusts you, but that's his signature look and he needs it to be perfect

And then you're going to accidentally ruin his face anyways when you go to scratch an itch, forgetting about the claws on his hand

It's nothing compared to his attempts to use your magic

[kalki-tarot]

Your first Kiss with them 🎧🍷💕

Pick a picture, my beautiful souls ♡

Pictures are taken from Pinterest.

This may not resonate with everyone. I'll use tarot and my own intuition so take what resonates and leave the rest. Don't force anything and this is just for entertainment purposes. This reading will be very specific </3

Do not steal/copy my work. Strict action(s) would be taken against you.

More pick a pile readings !

Pile 1

Death, the devil, 7 swords, 10 pentacles, the sun, ace of swords, 9 wands, 4 pentacles, queen of swords (bottom of deck)

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️

Right off the bat, pile 1. I sense you fear intimacy or being close with anyone in general. Maybe due to past experiences? Someone maybe forced you in the past or took advantage of you. I'm really sorry if that happened to you. So, now you've developed a fear of getting so close or vulnerable with anyone.

Pile 2 also has messages for you.

Your first kiss will happen after you've let go of certain fears. You may hesitate at first, but of course, it'll happen with your consent. You may get flashes of the past but you'll stand strong and let them kiss you or vice versa. This kiss will mark a new beginning as it'll signify the fears finally leaving your soul & mind.

The kiss will feel soft and fresh, like a warm summer breeze. It'll make you both happy. You'll feel content and comfortable while it happens. You will feel as you're in your power, finally. The kiss will be smooth. It can happen during the day or under the sunlight. I'm even getting a beach for some of you. It'll be overall fantastic as per your choice.

Reblog this post to claim it!

Pile 2

Death rx, page of cups, the star, 9 wands, 2 swords, six of cups, the world, 10 swords rx (bottom of deck)

This feels like a fantasy! The kiss will happen just like the way you imagine it lol. Statight outta your dreams. It'll be wet and sloppy, can use lots of tounge play(?) Idk guys I'm not experienced in these kinda things 💀😭 but It'll definitely give you butterflies in the stomach.

This will be memorable kiss, even after some years you'll still remember every bit of the detail and be nostalgic about it. This can happen outside or even at a place that's far away from your home. Like while traveling or something?

You may be combating an inevitable change while this happens. Like there's a message for you to change, change the way you've been doing things all the time. Change the way you think. Don't resist change.

Let's come back to the moment of yours, the kiss will be very romantic and emotional . A little bit playful also. I'm getting biting the lips and teasing a lot. This feels like a long kiss. This will take place at a place where there aren't many people around.

It will help you release negative thoughts and feelings you've been holding all this time. So good luck with that!

Reblog this post to claim it!

Pile 3

10 cups, strength, 9 wands, the fool, 4 swords, 5 swords, page of pentacles, 2 of wands.

Cute! Your first kiss may take place in a garden or a forest where you went to travel or camp or smth. I feel like the kiss will be initiated by the feminine energy in the connection. The kiss will make you feel young and vibrant. Your heart will race a lot. It may happen on a risky place like in the public or where someone can watch or catch you.

But the feelings would be so intense and magical. You'll be drawn towards eachother like magnets. I see a height difference between you guys.

You may have a fight before this happens, and suddenly the overwhelming feelings take over and you guys kiss. You both will literally surrender yourselves to one another. Very intimate and passionate energy.

This moment will be shocking or unexpected but you'll definitely like it!

Reblog this post to claim it!

[pink-amethyst-tarot]

Looking for a sign?

a pick-a-card reading

Take a deep breath and let your intuition guide you. In the end, only you know what is truly best for you.

P I L E 1 P I L E 2 P I L E 3

pile 1

"You are a badass being, full of life, love & possibilities. Through this deck, may you find a path to your best self." Modern Witch Tarot Deck, Lisa Sterle

Page of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, Eight of Pentacles, Ten of Cups, The Emperor, Seven of Swords

It seems you are looking for the joy in life and you have been working really hard to find it. The thing is, you might be looking in the wrong places. You're looking right when you should be looking left. You aren't seeing your potential and how powerful, beautiful and magnificent you are. The things that you are trying to manifest want to come to you but you first have to look within.

Card from the Angel Answers Oracle Deck: Don't Stop!

I am reading this as your angels telling you that you are doing so well, even if things are uncomfortable right now. You have made amazing progress, and you should acknowledge that. If you look back on who you used to be and where you used to be, you will notice that you have made some amazing strides forward. Don't give up on you. There is a reality that you want to live in and it's calling for you, but it can get to you if you don't meet it in the middle.

I hope you enjoyed this reading, if you would like to get a more person look into your situation, see this post.

pile 2

Six of Swords, Three of Swords, Five of Wands, Death, The World, Ace of Swords

Change is inevitable. There is a change that you have been resistant to because you don't want to be uncomfortable. You're so used to one side of the river, you're afraid to even think about going to the other side. This thing you are avoiding, it's not what you think it is. Change, good or bad, can be uncomfortable. It's still going to happen, though. You will not be able to please everyone but you will be happier, in the end. It's not your problem if there are people that don't understand what you're doing or what you want. They are either along for the ride or they can stay home. You know what the right choice is.

Card from the Angel Answers Oracle Deck: YES

There's your answer. The answer is yes. I'm hearing Say Yes by Floetry; all you gotta do is say yes, don't deny what you feel. Once again you know what you need to do, what you want to do. You just wanted someone else to say it so I'm saying it. Don't think of all the reasons why you think it's a flute. Your angels/guides/the universe doesn't do flukes. If it's for you, it will find you. The answer is yes. Yes.

I hope you enjoyed this reading, if you would like to get a more person look into your situation, see this post.

Pile 3

Queen of Wands, Ace of Wands, The Devil, Temperance, King of Wands, Justice

First thing I heard was, "leave him alone." Now, this is a general reading so apply the pronouns and genders this will apply to. You are doing something that you know is wrong but it feels damn good. It makes you feel powerful. You're aware that something is off. Maybe a power imbalance. If you don't cut this out now, it will bite you in the ass very quickly and painfully. It's time for you to take control of the narrative again and do right by yourself.

Card from the Angel Answers Oracle Deck: NOT THE RIGHT TIME and NO!

This has HEEEEELL NO energy to be quite frank. Whatever you are doing or planning to do, just don't. Just avoid the mess and drama while/if you can.

I hope you enjoyed this reading, if you would like to get a more person look into your situation, see this post

LEGAL DISCLAIMER: FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY. These readings are not a substitute or replacement for any professional help or services. My readings are not a substitute for any form of professional legal, medical/psychiatric, relationship, religious/spiritual or financial/ business advice nor consultations. You should always see a professional legal/trained adviser for help in any matter. I am not responsible for any decisions/ actions you take.

[personasintro]

Mutual Help | #26

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.5k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 

Two days.

Two days of utter ignorance from Jungkook. It feels like it has become his routine to wake up earlier before you, so when you wake up there's no one but you in Jungkook's home. The same thing happens every evening, when he comes home late at night and barely mutters a single greeting before he scurries to the bathroom. After that, he buries himself in a blanket still sleeping on the couch, as he leaves his bedroom all for you. At first, there were times when you felt sorry and wanted to make things right. But that's hard to do when the person you need to talk to ignores you and gives you a cold shoulder whenever you approach him. It was only today's morning, the same routine without Jungkook's presence, that you've grown tired of it.

Your apartment still isn't fixed and you've no idea how long it's going to take. The repairman texted you, saying he's working on it but you're nowhere near moving back in. Living with Jungkook isn't that much fun, especially after your conversation that caused this but no way you regret it. It was inevitable. You're aware arguments happen, but still, you do feel sad over the fact you've had an argument with Jungkook, out of all people and it's still lasting. Whenever you got into one, in no way it lasted this long. That's what bothers you the most. Luckily, your soar mood had been a little warning for Yoongi not to tease you and surprisingly, he never brought up Jungkook. This way, you had some time to think, even during busy working days without Yoongi's unnecessary and annoying remarks.

The rustling of keys, none other than Jungkook's, is being heard before you hear him clicking his security code, causing your throat to tighten. You've no idea why you're so nervous, maybe it's the fact he came earlier than usual and you hoped you'd make your escape plan without having to see him. Now, you'll have to face him because there's no way he hasn't noticed your duffel bag right next to his shoe rack.

Now or never.

Straightening yourself, you make your way out of his bedroom with your other duffel bag, clutching it in your grasp as you ignore his presence. From the corner of your eyes, you can make out his figure as he tosses his keys onto the small cabinet in the corridor. As you're in the same room, with you mentally cursing it for being so small, you can feel his eyes burning the side of your face. You're the one who's giving him a cold shoulder for a nice change, and it does feel nice. Knowing him, he probably wonders whether he should voice his curiosity or just ignore you and let you go.

Busying yourself with trying to locate your shoes, you finally find them, unfortunately right next to his feet where he's standing. Purposely, letting out a sigh of annoyance, you're about to reach for your shoes so you can get the hell out of here. The air is starting to be too suffocating for you.

"Where the hell are you going?"

Bingo.

His curiosity won, and even though there's an attitude in his cold voice, you take this opportunity to finally look at him, just to give him a nasty glare. He doesn't seem fazed by it, probably waiting for it because he knows you after all. He knows you're not a person who should be messed around with.

"Away." you reply dryly, snatching your shoes before you toss them back onto the floor.

"Is your apartment fixed?" he asks, voice imitating yours which pisses you even more. Fuck, he knows exactly where to push your buttons.

"No." Short and simple, but still you snap at him.

"Then where are you going?" There it is. The sudden change in his voice and although his voice does seem cold and distanced, there's worry somewhere in it which makes you almost smirk.

However, your features remain neutral as you look at him. Shit. One look into his dark brown eyes and you almost feel sorry for treating him this way. Well, he's the first who started. It's childish, you know. But you also don't care.

Why the hell do you care? You want to snap, showing him the true anger that's still bubbling inside of you, hiding from him. Once you'd fully snap, you know there would be another argument on the way and you want to do this calmly as much as possible.

"Probably Jimin's." you reply, biting your lower lip once your words come out a little bit harsher than you intended them to.

The truth is, Jimin has no idea about your current plan which reminds you, you should probably text him and ask him if you could crash on his couch for a few days. Until your apartment is fixed, of course, which you don't know when it will be, but it could be tomorrow. You like to stay positive, at least about this. You should take this opportunity to thank Jimin's parents for creating and raising such a sweet human being. You know you could stay with him either way, but still you should let him know out of politeness. Of course, if you weren't aware of Jimin's personality and willingness to help as much as he can, you wouldn't just ambush him. The next option is Taehyung, but the boy is too curious and blunt for his own good. He would ambush you with tons of questions, noticing straight away something happened. Jimin would too, but at least he would leave you alone if you tell him. Taehyung is stubborn and persistent.

"Why?" Jungkook asks, mumbling the question under his breath but it's clear he knows the answer to that. There's no way he has no clue of your sudden need to leave without notice.

There are a lot of ways you want to act right now. One of them is being sarcastic, angry and just overall to show him how much he pissed you off for acting so childish. Even though you're not so different either. Instead, you settle for a much more diplomatic answer.

"I know when I'm not welcomed somewhere, Jungkook." Adding his name with a cold tone adds just a little spice to this.

"Oh, come on," he scoffs, actually scoffs which makes you fume. "You don't have to leave!" he exclaims, wanting to prove a point which doesn't make sense. Men.

"And look at your huffy face? No thanks," you bite, reaching for your shoes but before you can even put your foot in one of them, they're taken from your grasp. "Hey!" you scold Jungkook, who just glares in response and tosses your shoes behind him.

Just wait, Jeon. You'll throw those balenciaga shoes he owns out of the window.

"You can barely look at my huffy face, when I'm barely here." he scoffs, purposely using your term saying he's petty and childish.

"Exactly my point," you mutter sarcastically, "Now give me back my shoes."

"No," he says simply, cocking his brow at you in a challenge.

You fume, face getting red from all the anger and you wish you wouldn't have the last ounce of control. You'd probably jump at him for provoking you. Not sexually jumping at him, of course. You'd rip his beautiful black and long hair out of anger.

"Let's talk." he proposes, voice confident and strong, but is only met with your loud scoff.

"Now you want to talk? Y'know what? Fuck you. You should've thought about it before acting like a fucking child," Your words are sharp, loud and quick, and deep down you regret for being so mean. Just because he's pissing you off with his actions and attitude, it doesn't mean you've to do the same.

Even though, he never said straightforward 'fuck you' and cursed at you, just like you did right now. He always respected you enough not to do that. Yes, he was ignoring you and acting like a child, but still. He hasn't crossed that line of disrespect and it makes you horrible, because you let your anger overtake you. And it wouldn't hurt so much if it weren't for the hurt flashing through his doe eyes.

"And y'know what else? I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or imply something that's not true, especially if it's about you disrespecting me or using me. I know you'd never do that, but curse me out for being honest and protective about our friendship. I mean, look at us! I never meant to hurt you!" By the end of the sentence, you let your voice raise while he just stands there and lets your emotions overtake you again.

"But you did," he says simply, shrugging his shoulders as if it's not a big deal but you know it is for him. That's why he's ignoring you. He's controlling his feelings of hurt and anger, not wanting to hurt you the same way you did. But you don't get what you've done wrong. You were just honest and he completely misunderstood the purpose of your conversation and why you had brought it up. "You did hurt me."

"So, instead of us talking about it like adults and friends... you've decided to ignore me? Do you realize how awful it feels to be in your home, feeling like a burden and someone you need to avoid in your own home? Don't act so surprised that I don't want to be here!" you exclaim.

Jungkook sighs, fingers brushing through his somehow curly hair before he closes his eyes for a brief moment. It's like he's trying to decide how he should react.

"Not everything is about you, Y/N." he reminds you, voice cold and stiff.

You gape at him, ready to strangle this incredibly handsome guy who has a bitchy attitude, but all you can do is stare at him in utter disbelief.

"You know what's funny?" you ask, not waiting for his response, already opening your mouth again. "You're so butthurt over something that I talked to you about because our friendship matters to me. But you're so willing letting your cheating ex back into your life--"

"Stop right there, Y/N. Or God help me." he warns you, clenching his jaw as you see the anger in his iris burning.

That was low. You admit. You shouldn't have mentioned Kiko when you know what she means to him. You purposely tried to hurt him, he knows that and that's why he stopped you before you could've continued, even though the worst part had already been said. You aimed for the most hurtful thing that happened to him, not so long ago, and you feel like a total bitch because of it.

"Let me get my fucking shoes so I can leave." you say through clenched teeth, walking towards him while you try to push him to get your shoes. It's hard, he's standing right in front of the door with his back turned to it, your shoes laying there between him and the door.

He doesn't budge, surprising you when he grabs you by your forearms, not letting you to crouch down to get your shoes. You stare at him in shock, his eyes darkening as he holds you close. He's not putting that much pressure onto your skin, still holding you somehow soft, but tight enough not to let you twist out of his hold. You hold his gaze, not showing any weakness but it's hard when he stares at you with so much intensity while he's so close to you. You can smell his cologne perfectly, the lightning in the corridor creating a nice shine on his face. Every imperfection is visible from up close, from where you're standing, and you wonder what this man did to deserve such perfect skin.

"Don't leave me." he says firmly, making you snort.

"Stop ordering me around, I can do whatever I want." you scoff, a prominent frown settling on his face.

"I'm not letting you drive in this state late at night." he says it as if it's his call to make.

"What state? You're being ridiculous. And I'm not asking you." you purse your lips, looking away from him but not before you roll your eyes.

"You're upset," Yeah, thanks to who, you want to add but keep your mouth sealed. "I'm not risking something happening to you because of our fight."

You've to admit, his words do warm your currently cold heart but you don't let it show on your face. Showing signs of weakness is not tolerable right now.

"Let me go," you grunt, doing a poor job at pushing against his firm chest that barely budges and if it weren't for the tension in the room, Jungkook would probably laugh at you for being weak.

The truth is; if you wanted, you'd just push harder until he'd let you go because he wouldn't use any physical strength without your consent. Even he knows that, that's why your weak attempt to push him makes the corner of his lips twitch. God, so annoying...

"You won't leave?" he asks, assuring with a neutral tone which makes your eyes flicker to his. He's staring right back at you, patiently waiting for your confirmation and you scoff under your breath. Just like you said; so annoying.

"I probably will." you mutter while rolling your eyes. What is the point of staying? Yes, you're upset but you're not stupid not to dry carefully. You're not that emotionally unstable.

"Then I won't let you go." he says simply, causing you to groan as you wiggle with your body but he's having a great hold of you.

"You can shove your caring up your ass, I'm not wasting my time, mhhph--"

Your eyes widen, almost popping out of sockets, when you realize you're being shut up with Jungkook's lips. He has crushed your lips together in seconds, barely giving you any time to react as the kiss is aggressive and firm, just like the tension between you is. He's still holding your forearms, smirking into the kiss when he feels you relax under his touch. It irritates you and it causes another bubble of anger to pop as you start slapping his chest, but he doesn't let you go. The kiss is good, too good for you to want it to end but you don't let it show. It'll just boost his ego anyway. He bites your lower lip, gently of course, not cracking your thin skin with his teeth as if to show his dominance, before he detaches his mouth from yours.

"I thought you'd never shut up." he rasps out, your brows pinching together, waking up from the daze his kiss caused.

Once you're back to your senses, you glare at him and nudge his chest with more strength. Jungkook's eyes widen for a moment before a cocky grin appears on his pink shiny lips that are coated with your saliva. This is a game for him, he thinks he can kiss you and make you shut up which digs into your pride.

"How dare you?" Exclaiming, you nudge him again. This time, he lets his huge body budge underneath your palms and eyes you with the same smirk that you wish you could wipe off his face. He's enjoying this, no longer holding you as his back meets the hard wood of his front door. "Stop laughing in my face!" you yell, ready to jap at his chest again but with a quick movement, he's holding you by your wrists before that could happen.

"You done?" he chuckles, amusement and cockiness dancing in his eyes.

You don't recognize him. Of course, he's devilishly hot and can use his charms very well, but you've never been in this position. Not at him being so cocky, challenging you with a single stare and attitude. You can't quite pinpoint what it is but it's fucking pissing you off. He's doing this purposely. You're speechless before you can get some words out of your very shocked and open mouth, Jungkook is already opening his one again.

"Don't act like you didn't like it," he chuckles, thumbs caressing your wrists which he still holds in his grasp.

A lump creates in your throat and you wish you could protest, even though you know he's absolutely right and he knows that too. Of course, it irritated you that he just shut you up with a kiss – fucking amazing kiss that was – but you did like it. You missed his lips.

"Oh please," you scoff, "Don't flatter yourself." you still try, lie pushing past your lips which does nothing but amuse him.

Tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he nods along your words, cockily chuckling lowly before he grabs your wrists with one hand, the other one holding the back of your head. You can feel your heart in the throat, anticipating his next move as your stomach burns with excitement despite how distant the two of you're.

You'd yelp if you had the chance to do so, especially when your mouth is clasped with Jungkook's. Dropping his hold around your wrists, his hands are cupping your cheeks as he slowly backs you, Your hands clutch the thin material of his shirt, wrinkling the expensive button up. He's everywhere, tongue exploring your mouth, teeth biting your lower lip and tugging it before he's diving back for a kiss, barely giving you a chance to catch a breath. All of your thoughts are gone, mind empty with only one purpose and that is to kiss him back. Your own hands are over his back, nails grazing his back that's covered with his shirt and that's why you put a special pressure, causing him to groan. The kiss is aggressive, no matter how many times you've had quick sex or were making out, the atmosphere was never this aggressive and there was never this much tension. He's still backing you, your ass bumping into the back of his couch that's in the middle of the room, thanks to the spacious living room he has. When he pulls away, his forehead leaned against yours, you slowly open your eyes to be met with tongue licking his bottom lip.

"Should I still not flatter myself?" he asks confidently, cocking his brow at you as you glare at him.

"You're so fucking annoying." you remark, not having enough time to even add something as he's kissing you all over again.

The kiss is heated, you can feel every fiber in your body heating up from his lips and touch, a shameless moan escaping your lips. Your own body betrays you, the tingling feeling between your legs and in your lower stomach is hard to ignore. You grow greedy, feeling up Jungkook's chest and back while your lips move against his so quickly that you can barely keep up.

"Jungkook," you moan, his mouth on your neck as he bites you gently into the crook of it. Licking the faint mark of his teeth, he sucks your skin there while a gasp of pleasure resounds from you.

Your hand goes between his legs, feeling the hardening bulge and you give it a squeeze, his body shivers for a moment. When you give him an intentional and hard squeeze, his deep growl of irritation is pleasing for you. Jungkook doesn't waste time, growing annoyed at the fact you just grabbed his dick knowing it'll hurt, and he turns around quickly. So quickly that you almost get a whiplash, your body hovering over the couch as he bends you over it. Luckily, your arms catch you before your head can bump into it and if it weren't for the awkward position, you'd cuss him out for being so reckless. Surely, there was no real danger for you but it still caught you off guard and you really don't need to bump your head because of him.

It all happens quickly. First, you feel Jungkook's hands on your sweatpants that you've changed yourself into after you got from work. They pool around your ankles, Jungkook's fingers already tracing the hem of your cotton panties. If you knew this was about to happen, you'd wear a better pair.

"You still on your period?" he asks mindlessly, tucking his finger underneath your underwear as he plays with it.

Your eyes widen, your body straightening in a second as you slightly bump into Jungkook's chest. You're remembered that in fact, you should still be having your period. But last time you checked, there was barely any blood and it's possible that it ended.

"Wait--yeah, I mean it's ending." you answer, just in case because you don't know what will happen once he'll stick it in. Oh god.

"We good then?" he asks to be sure.

"You tell me." you tell him breathlessly, stealing a glance at him behind your shoulder.

"I don't mind," he tells you, voice low and husky as you feel his breath fan against the back of your neck. You shudder, licking your dry lips as you give him a nod.

"Me neither."

That's all it takes for him to bend you over the couch again, causing you to yelp while Jungkook's busy taking off your panties. They pool around your ankles, along with your sweatpants as Jungkook gently kicks your legs apart. Thank god you're bent over, so you don't actually stumble from Jungkook's action. You feel the tip of his fingers brushing against your heat, voice humming at the wetness that coats his fingers. You're embarrassed because now he knows you're aroused, too aroused judging by the slick noises that are heard between your legs and caused by Jungkook's slim fingers. One second he's rubbing his fingers against you, the next you hear the rustle of his belt unbuckling, following the sound of a zipper before you feel his dick poking your ass cheek. Your breath catches in your throat, thighs begging to clasp together so you can get at least some kind of friction. In your current position, it's almost impossible to get some relief.

"What did you say to me? That I should shove my caring up my ass?" he asks deeply as you suck in breath, heart racing against your chest. "What if I shoved something else up your ass?"

"What?" you breathe out, not hiding how shaky your voice is.

"You did tell me you would let me fuck your ass."

You shoot up, back bumping into Jungkook's hard chest as he catches you by your hips. If he's surprised by your sudden reaction, he doesn't react and chuckles into your ear instead. His lips hover over your earlobe before his nose pokes your temple. Jungkook's hot breath fanning your face makes you shiver, adding just the right pinch of temptation into the air.

"You're not going anywhere near my ass with your dick, Jeon." you manage to say, voice harsh and showing that despite your current position, you're not weak and there are still emotions of frustration and anger lingering between you two.

"You told me the opposite." He has the audacity to say, but there's a hint of amusement in his tone.

"I'd promise you anything in the middle of sex." you point out, not forgetting to scoff out loud.

"Good to know," he hums, causing you to frown but before you can remark something smart and sarcastic, his hands grip you harder. "Don't worry, I won't do anything you're not comfortable with."

It's weird. Even though there are so many untold emotions and thoughts between you two, he still manages to assure you that you've nothing to worry about. You've never been in this position with Jungkook, this is new but both of you can't seem to think about it too much. And you're mad, so mad because he's been acting like a child but his hands on your hips, hot breath on your skin and knowing what's about to happen is all you can focus on.

"I wouldn't let you." you still remark sassily, hearing him chuckling before you're pushed over the couch all over again. You yelp in surprise, catching yourself just at the right time while you hear him rustling behind you before his wallet is thrown next to you.

When his length makes contact with your ass, you feel him already wearing a condom before he starts pushing in. He always stretched you out, as far as you can remember, but this time he's splitting you open as you gasp at the sudden pressure of his thick length. He's not extremely quick but not slow either, just enough to surprise you with the pace he had chosen. Filling you up to the brim, you gasp as he starts pulling out before he smacks his length back into you. His thighs slap against your ass as he sets a rustless pace, as soon as he hears moans and gasps leaving your mouth.

He's quiet. There are no words, no pet names that flow out of his mouth freely and you wish he would tell you something. His dick inside of you feels fucking amazing, it really does but there's something blunt about it when there are no words coming out of him. He delivers a few slaps to your ass, something tells you it's because of his own frustration and build up feelings. Although, you can't be sure because his palm had met your ass a lot during sex.

You're gasping, moaning and desperately clutching Jungkook's blanket that has been his only source of warmth for the past couple of days. There's a faint scent of him lingering on the soft fluffy blanket and you realize how much you missed him during those sleepless nights.

Your body is pulled up, by none other than Jungkook's strong arms as you bump into him again, your bodies still connected as he stops his thrusts. You whine, wishing he'd continue as his hard length is pressing against your cervix. Jungkook's fingers tap against your lips as you open your mouth in a silent question, his husky voice carrying itself; "Put them in your mouth."

And you do, you swirl your tongue against his two fingers coating them with your saliva as he hums approvingly into your ear. Shivering, he pulls them out before you feel them circling your puckered hole. Not having the time to show your concern, your tensed muscles speak for themselves as Jungkook reacts.

"Trust me." he says, words simple and short as you give him a brief nod, his hips already working as he starts thrusting into you again.

Throwing your head back, you lean against his shoulder as pleasure shoots straight through your entire body. It feels so fucking good. You can feel him so good, your walls wrapping around his thick length while his palm is sprawled over your lower stomach. You glance down, surprised that there's evident bulge that's caused by Jungkook's length. You can see him moving inside of you, your walls clenching as you shut your eyes in pleasure. It's becoming too unbearable and he barely started.

However, Jungkook proves that he's nowhere near done and he's got much more up his sleeve as his finger slowly enters your puckered hole. Just the tip, enough for you to feel the sudden pressure he puts there. Your reaction is natural and a low moan rasps out of your throat. If it weren't for Jungkook's tight grip over your waist, and the fact you're stuck between him and the couch, you would meet his thrust but there's no space for you to move. Something tells you, you wouldn't be able to move either way. You're completely frozen as you welcome the pleasure Jungkook is delivering to you and your body. Pulling his finger out of your puckered hole, he goes between your bodies where you're connected as he gets some of your arousal onto his fingers, before he's back at your ass and enters you. He's not completely in, just putting enough pressure as he starts pumping the tip of his fingers all while he's pounding you.

"Fuck, Kook." you gasp out, his hand disappearing from your waist and just as you're about to complain, he's wrapping his hand around your throat.

Your eyes roll back, especially when he squeezes your neck softly and grunts into your ear. Oh fuck, you're going to be so sore after this. But you don't regret it and you chase your high, clutching Jungkook's tattooed arm. Your nails dig into his skin, your body barely holding up as your legs tremble.

"So good." you mewl, wishing he'd react in some way, a verbal way so you could hear him saying all those nasty stuff but he's quiet.

Not having enough time to think about it, because he's making you feel so fucking good, your whole body shudders as you approach your intense orgasm. His length, finger still pumping into your other hole, you feel so full that you just couldn't hold it up for much longer. His hand around your neck is just a huge bonus that makes everything more intense. Your legs shake as you're cumming, walls clenching repeatedly around his thick length that still thrusts into you. The orgasm lasts long, longer than you thought it would but you're not complaining. Jungkook delivers a couple of harsh thrusts that make you wince, his hips slapping against your ass for a few times before he's cumming, filling up the condom. He growls, his thrusts sloppy as he rides himself through the orgasm. Your chests move quickly, your bodies exhausted as his hold on you easens up and you no longer feel him pressed against you. His warmth is gone as soon as he pulls out of you, your walls aching and heat already swollen, but you love that feeling.

You've to clutch the back of the couch, holding yourself for balance and support while you're trying to catch a breath. Glancing at Jungkook, you stare at him with your heart painfully twisting in your chest as you watch him taking off the condom as he walks away. He walks away without uttering a single word as he makes his way to the bathroom.

Maybe he went to throw out the condom, he'll be back. But he's not. As soon as you hear the water being turned on and the faint sound of him closing the shower door, you know he's not coming back. Gulping, you pull up your panties and sweatpants, cringing when you feel your cum dripping down your thighs. Ignoring the pain in your chest, you walk into the bathroom where you see Jungkook standing naked in the shower. His face is facing the floor, as water keeps dripping down his body with black hair covering his features. Nibbling on your bottom lip, you complement what you should do. Should you just leave? Is there a point of talking when he walked away just like that? But then, you're remembered by his words and how he said you hurt him. You want to know what that was about.

Taking off your clothes, you ignore the nervosity you suddenly feel as you open the shower door and stand behind him. Completely naked, you don't let your eyes drop to his ass knowing you would be distracted. But there's something about being in here with him, in complete silence. It's intimate and of course, you were showering together before but today's situation is different.

You're surprised how cold the water is, it's almost freezing and you're thankful that Jungkook's body is covering you from the strong flow of the water. Still, some amount of it splashes onto your body and it makes you shiver, but you don't move.

"So, you fuck me and then just ignore me?" you ask, voice loud enough to echo in the bathroom as he doesn't move an inch.

There's no way he didn't hear you. He knows you're standing behind him, he probably knew that you're here as soon as you stepped into the bathroom. He's not surprised by your sudden voice that resounds behind him, his back muscles tense as he lets the freezing water coat his entire body. Just when you think he won't be answering and his next plan is to ignore you, he lifts his head up and slides his hair back to get it off his face.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" he asks, still not turning to you.

"No," you answer immediately, scoffing. "No, Jungkook. That's not what I wanted." you point out, voice harsh but somehow broken.

"Do you think I want to be fucked and ignored? And feel used and dirty? Like a slut?"

He turns around, surprising you as you almost stumble, staring at you with furrowed eyes.

"I don't understand you," he admits, "You told me I was too affectionate and now that I'm not, I make you feel used and dirty?"

You can hear the pain in his voice. Jungkook has been acting childish, but that's just your point of view because you've no idea what's going on inside his mind. But you know him long enough to know that your confession probably hurt him more than it did hurt you. Jungkook never wanted you to feel that way, that was the whole point of being affectionate because he didn't want you to feel used. That's what he told you, right? Some of it is starting to make sense.

"Kook," you breathe out, the nickname slipping out of your mouth before you can stop it. "I meant outside of sex. You weren't affectionate just during sex. And I didn't mind it, I don't mind that. It felt nice, it feels nice to have you so close," you speak, admitting your thoughts out loud.

Jungkook and you were affectionate a lot, maybe that's why everyone thought you're secretly dating and wouldn't believe you if you told them that's not true. But never to the point you'd kiss each other out of nowhere or act differently. The affection is different from what it used to be and maybe that's what scares you.

"But if we kept it going... I don't want to think about what could've happened. I care about you, I love you and I want to protect this friendship." you tell him, his doe eyes staring back at you as he nibbles on his bottom lip.

"Yet, you came here while I'm showering naked. Isn't that crossing a line too?" There's no harshness in his voice, he sounds genuinely confused and curious, maybe even skeptical.

You freeze, stuttering over your words as you grow frustrated by the sudden call out. Shit, he's right. You just came into the shower, knowing he's here completely naked and showering. Well, you did have sex just a few minutes ago but still – the deal is about sex, and intimacy and affection is a different topic. The main topic right now.

"I wanted to talk..." you mumble, knowing how stupid that sounds. You could've just waited until he's done but you came here straight away. But that's because you're that comfortable with him. "See? This just shows that I'm comfortable with you. You've never made me uncomfortable. That's not what this is about."

Silence. He just stares at you before he takes a deep breath.

"I felt like an idiot. But I was embarrassed too," he admits, voice suddenly quiet and timid as if he's telling you the darkest secret.

You've questions, you're curious but you let him talk.

"I was so fucking embarrassed because I did those things without even realizing them. I mean... of course, I knew I was about to kiss you or something. But I never dwelled onto it too much. What I mean by that is... that I wanted to feel some kind of love and affection. I was craving it, I wanted to be loved." he admits, his voice cracking as you open your mouth and hold back your tears.

The sight of him standing there so vulnerable does something to you. He's showing you the raw side of him, a complete other side and you finally realize there was so much more behind his reaction.

"Kook..." you murmur, trying to reach for him but you stop, not knowing if that's the right thing to do. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"What? That I just want to feel loved?" he scoffs, as if that's embarrassing to admit such a thing.

"There's nothing wrong with that." you tell him, wanting him to know that but he completely ignores that.

"You know what I'm ashamed about? That I didn't think about our friendship more. It should've been me, I should've stopped doing that but I kept going because I was just searching for something that I was craving for."

It all makes sense now. Part of you is still frustrated that he acted this way but everyone battles with their own emotions differently. He had never disrespected you or done something that is unforgiving. You wish you would know sooner what is the main reason behind him being so affectionate. The fact he wants to be loved makes your heart crack. You realize that Kiko really hurt him and even though he loves her and wants her back, he knows she fucked him up. But he loves her too much to let her go and that's even more painful. He's mad at himself, he wants to let her go and be angry but he can't. He told you that before.

"I'm so sorry, Kook." you tell him, eyes watering as he looks up at you as he shakes his head.

"I don't need pity, Y/N."

Y/N. It's like a slap to your face. No baby, nothing. You hate how much that affects you.

"I'm not pitying you," you deny, even though you know that's bullshit. Jungkook knows that too. "I just wish things would turn out differently. I hate when we fight, we've never fought like this ever before."

For a moment, he turns around and turns on warm water as he scoots back to give you enough space to shower as well. You thank him, your heart warming up over the fact he noticed your shivering body and goosebumps  even though his eyes never left your face. It's kind of funny, he's trying to be respectful while you're standing in front of him completely naked, as if he wasn't buried inside of you just a moment ago.

"I hate that too," he admits, "I'm sorry too, y'know. I should've communicated with you differently."

"Yes, you should," you tell him, reaching for his shower gel that he hands you as you thank him. "But I understand that there is a lot going on for you. It was just discommunication on both sides, I'm glad we're talking about it."

And for the first time in a few days, Jungkook gives you a faint smile. It's faint, but you notice it right away and it makes you mimic it too.

"Please, don't leave." he blurts out, your mouth falling open as you stare at him. "To Jimin's or anywhere."

Jungkook has always been a person who liked his own privacy, but he cherished his friendships and relationships with people. Considering how he's feeling now, it only makes sense that he doesn't want to be alone.

"Okay, I won't." you tell him as he gives you a short nod.

The air is getting better, despite the steam that's filling up the bathroom from the warm water, but there's still a weird tension in the air.

"I'm sorry." he says again, putting the shower gel back in its place as you hand it to him.

"You already said that," you chuckle, "I'm sorry too."

"You've nothing to be sorry about. All you did was look after our friendship." he tells you, slightly shaking his head as you sigh.

"I was looking after our friendship but I should've looked after you too. I never knew you felt that way, but please know that I enjoyed all those times and days with you. Kissing or not, I liked that. I just got scared because I realized that it's something we've been doing without talking about it or noticing it that much."

He nods along with your words, silently agreeing with you. "Well, there's no way you would know. I didn't talk about it and to some extent, I didn't realize that I'm the one who's looking for some affection. I just felt lost and alone, and you're always there for me. Which doesn't justify my actions because I shouldn't be kissing you or touching you without--"

"Kook, before you start guilting yourself all over again, I liked it. Okay? I liked the fact you respect me enough not to dump me after we had sex. You never made me feel used."

At this point, you feel like you're just repeating yourself but you've to because you know Jungkook. He's going to gulting himself, thinking everything is his fault when it's not.

"I'm sorry about today... after we had sex and for ignoring you all those days," he says, stopping you with raising his finger when he sees you already opening your mouth. "I just didn't know what I should do when we were... done."

You both cringe at that, laughing as he shakes his head. "I don't want to overstep any boundaries. I care about you too much, Y/N. You're always going to be one of the most important women in my life. I'd hate myself if I ruined anything between us."

Your heart swells at his confession, your eyes watering as he stares at you with big doe eyes.

"Shut up, you're gonna make me cry."

"Then cry," he shrugs, "But I need you to know that." he says, chuckling as you slap his chest.

"I know that, Kook."

"Good," he nods, tone firm but light at the same time. "That's all that matters to me right now." he mumbles, sounding as if he's saying that to himself but you hear him and still smile.

You both shower in silence, messing around when Jungkook bumps his hip into you saying you're taking up all the space. You do the same to him, causing the two of you to laugh as you come back and forth, until you're coming out of the shower together wrapped in towels. Jungkook wipes the fogged mirror with his hand while a towel is wrapped around his hips, hanging dangerously low as a prominent v-line disappears underneath the black fabric of his towel.

No, Y/N. Don't. 

You both dry yourselves, getting into your pajamas as you clutch Jungkook's hand when he's walking out of the bathroom. He stares at you with curious doe eyes as you bite your lower lip. "Sleep with me tonight?"

"Are you sure?" he asks, a worry flashing in his eyes as you nod.

"I am," you assure him, "I just want us to be like we used to be. I want my best friend."

"I never left." he whispers and you look at him with pouty lips.

"You know what I mean."

"I know, I know," he says, tugging  your arm as he pulls you closer. You're pushed onto his chest, finally feeling that warmth and comfort of your best friend as you wrap your arms around his body.

He does the same thing, hugging you as you feel his cheek pressed on the top of your head.

"I'm going to Busan next weekend. Wanna come with me?" he asks suddenly, causing you to freeze as you look up at him, both still embracing each other.

Jungkook stares down at you, patiently waiting for your response as he chuckles at your big eyes. "Why are you going there?"

"To visit my parents." he answers.

Of course, why else would he go there? Chuckling at yourself, you nibble on your bottom lip as you let his question linger in your head. He wants you there? It's been awhile since you've seen his parents and family.

"I'd love to," you answer honestly, "But what about--"

"Tomorrow," he says simply, cutting you off as he cups your face. Just as you wait for his lips to touch yours, he doesn't move an inch and all you do is stare at each other. "We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" he asks, making sure you agree with him.

There's no reason for you not to agree and you feel like it's enough for today. You're just glad you're no longer fighting.

"Tomorrow." you tell him, letting him lead you to his bedroom as he makes sure every light is turned off.

Jungkook doesn't cuddle you, he keeps a safe distance between you two but you know he's there and you're no longer alone. Just his presence is enough and even though your hands are itching to get closer to him, you stay glued to the left side of his bed. His warmth and nice scent is all that slowly lulls you to sleep, the last thing you hear is Jungkook telling you goodnight but you're too tired to say anything back.

[thoughtlessthinkythoughts]

I think the key to understanding show!Aziraphale is in some lines that are in the book but not the show. Because these lines represent a place that our show Aziraphale hasn't hit yet.

Before I get into this, let me explain why I think things that aren't in the show can be so important to understanding where the show will go.

For another example, let's look at the ending of the book/s1. In the book, Adam is not impressed with Aziraphale and Crowley. There is no pep talk. He actually has a pretty stern message to them about "not messing people around."

A lot of s2 might not have worked the same way if they had gotten that message. It would have cut off room for growth. The whole plotline with Nina and Maggie for one would have been much less likely. So by holding off the stop messing with people message to the end of s2 (and then only giving it to Crowley), it provides more room for the characters to change at a pace befitting a multi-season show.

So what else do I think will end up working this way?

Well, there's a scene I love in the book that hasn't made it into the show yet. It happens after Aziraphale is discorporated. In the show, he goes to heaven, then to Madame Tracy. In the book, he bounces around possible hosts first, including a televangelist. The televangelist is going on about the rapture and such, and Aziraphale cuts in with this:

"Well, nice try...only it won't be like that at all. Not really.

"I mean, you're right about the fire and war, all that. but that Rapture stuff well, if you could see them all in Heaven - serried ranks of them as far as the mind can follow and beyond, league after league of us, flaming swords, all that, well, what I'm trying to say is who has time to go round picking people out and popping them up in the air to sneer at the people dying of radiation sickness on the parched and burning earth below them? If that's your idea of a morally acceptable time, I might add.

"And as for that stuff about Heaven inevitably winning...Well, to be honest, if it were that cut and dried, there wouldn't be a Celestial War in the first place, would there? It's propaganda. Pure and simple. We've got no more than a fifty percent chance of coming out on top. You might as well send money to a Satanist hotline to cover your bets, although to be frank when the fire falls and the seas of blood rise you lot are all going to be civilian casualties either way. Between our war and your war, they're going to kill everyone and let God sort it out-right?

"Anyway, sorry to stand here wittering, I've just a quick question-where am I?"

Because even this more cynical version of Aziraphale is adorable, the scene ends with "Gosh," he said, "am I on television?"

We didn't get this in the show, but I can't help feeling that it might be in season 3, assuming we get a season 3. It might even fit in better there, assuming we are going with a "second coming" plot. In the show, Aziraphale hasn't reached this level of cynicism (yet). I can't picture s1 or s2 Aziraphale giving this speech. Sure, he's seen what a mess the archangels are, he was willing to go against heaven to stop them from starting the end of the world, but I'm pretty sure show Aziraphale still believes in the goodness of God if not the goodness of the way heaven is run. It makes sense that show Aziraphale sees heaven as a fixable mess, an organization that isn't living up to what it should be. Because the show is taking Aziraphale's struggle with morally complex situations and questioning God and making it a longer arc.

My guess it that, as his tenure as archangel is likely to go terribly and not give him any more answers (or at least not answers he likes), he will get to the point where he could give this speech in season 3. My guess is that he's likely to also end up in a horrendous mental state once he reaches these conclusions (a perfect opportunity for some hurt/comfort). He's likely to build himself back up after that, but with a clearer look at the world.

End conclusion: if you are telling a longer story, sometimes you need to hold some things back to give your characters room to grow. So, it isn't a sign something is wrong with a story when partway through a character hasn't hit upon an obvious point.

"