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kueble · 9 months

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I Just Need You By My Side, Cause I'm Warmer in the Winter With You

Another very self-indulgent Christmas fic.

Teen. Warnings: Mentions of torture. 5,600 words.

Ghost/Soap

---

“Shouldn’t you be packing up?” Ghost asks him from where he leans against his doorway. Soap shrugs and sets down the pencil in his hand. He’s been sketching for about an hour now, trying to wind down at the end of a hectic day. Everyone on base is giddy at the thought of going home for the holidays, and the energy is almost overwhelming..

“Sorry, but you’ll have to get used to my ugly mug around here. I know you’re one of the only ones here most Christmases, but I don’t have anywhere else to be this year,” he explains, hoping years of interrogation techniques pay off and Ghost doesn’t call him on the lie. Though it’s partially true, since there’s nowhere he’d rather be then in the barracks with him.

“Don’t you usually have a big family celebration? Remember you rambling about nieces and nephews and being forced into midnight mass by your mother,” Ghost asks, eyes narrowing behind the black balaclava he’s chosen to wear today.

“Glad to know you actually listen to me when I shoot my mouth off,” he laughs out.

“Never miss a word, Johnny,” Ghost tells him evenly.

“So any other year, yeah I'd be home, but things are out of sorts this year with my sisters traveling to their husband’s families, and me Ma and Pa planned a little trip of their own,” he says. Sure, the little trip was right down the road to his brother’s house where everyone would be gathered like every other year, but no need for Ghost to know that.

Last year it was excruciating to leave Ghost on the tarmac, saying goodbyes as everyone else went home to their families. He doesn’t know much, but it’s clear Ghost no longer has anyone waiting for him back at home. They’d all joked about him haunting the base, probably maskless with the skeleton crew left behind and any other puns they could come up with. Still, there was a bleakness in Ghost’s eyes that he never wanted to see again.

Thankfully he’s never been able to hide his feelings from his parents, especially his mother, and she didn’t even bat an eye when he told her his plans. She’d said something cheesy about the magic of the season bringing them closer together, which he’d quickly scoffed off. He wasn’t doing this with any ulterior motives in place. It was a simple fact that his best friend shouldn’t be alone over the long holiday break they were lucky enough to get two years in a row.

If he happens to be completely ass over tits in love with him, he’s smart enough to keep it to himself.

“Guess it could be nice to have some company, even yours,” Ghost teases with a snort. Soap rolls his eyes, but he’s smirking still.

“Do you cook anything for it or rely on the mess hall for Christmas dinner?” he asks, already planning how to make things nicer for him. They may be stuck on a mostly empty base, but there’s no reason why he can’t make it as comfortable as possible.

“Sometimes I make a pot of soup for the week, but nothing special for the day itself. Tend to keep to myself,” he says softly. And that just won’t do.

“Happy to help sample anything you cook, but since I burn water, I’ll order us something nice from town. It shouldn’t be too late for a small catering order. You like lasagna?” he asks, already thinking of the perfect little Italian place near here.

“Wouldn’t say no to it, but there’s no need to get fancy over me,” Ghost mumbles. It only makes Soap more determined to bring a little Christmas magic into his life this year.

“I’ll take care of dinner and you just bring the good company,” he says to settle it. He’ll place an order first thing in the morning, already planning to buy way more food than they need. Ghost deserves to be spoiled, and leftovers are a rare commodity around here.

“Not sure I’ll contribute much in that regard, but yeah, I can show up,” he agrees.

“No one else I’d rather spend the day with. Honestly,” Soap admits, but Ghost just huffs at him.

“Piss off, Johnny,” he says with a laugh. Before he can figure out a response, the man is already gone. It may just be the hardest thing he’s ever done, but he’s damned sure going to make sure Ghost knows how much Soap likes being around him, especially now. Likes, not loves, because he has a feeling that’s something he’ll take to his grave. Being around him will just have to do for now.

—

The poster fell off the wall for the three thousandth time, and Soap barely managed to keep himself in check. Price would have his head if he blew up the base, but it’s getting more and more likely. It’s a stupid thing, really, just a fake Christmas tree by a fireplace, but he bought it to cheer up their rec room. He grumbles under his breath, reciting every swear he knows and probably inventing some new ones along the way.

“Problems, Sergeant?” Ghost asks from his spot on the couch. There’s a hint of laughter on the edges of his voice, and Soap spins around to glare at him.

“There is in fact,” he spits out before taking a couple of deep breaths to calm himself down. No use in pissing off the man he’s trying to decorate for. “These walls are apparently covered in fifty some years of filth, and I can’t get the damn tape to stick. Seriously, it’s like teflon and I’m actually afraid to think about what could be coating this wall right now.”

“This that important to you?” Ghost asks, head tilted like he’s studying him.

“Aye,” Soap sighs out. “Just wanted to brighten up the room a bit. We can’t have a real tree, and I’ve been banned from open flames on base, but I thought this stupid fucking poster might work. Wanna sneak off base and burn it with me? Might raise my spirits.”

“How about I fix it instead,” Ghost says, standing up to stomp over to the wall.

“You’re more than welcome to try, but not even sure duct tape will hold the damn thing at this point,” he says, scowling at the wall. Seriously, he was going to beg Price to get the room deep cleaned as soon as he was back on base. Can’t be safe.

Ghost shrugs before bumping him out of the way with his hip. He holds the poster with one hand and reaches into the back of his jeans with the other. The knife he pulls out is on the small side, but it does the job when he stabs it through the poster and into the wall. Nodding proudly, he slides another knife out of his sleeve and buries it in the other top corner. The final blade is tucked in his boot, and he takes a few steps back before flinging it at the wall.

It lands perfectly in the bottom center of the poster, and Soap chubs up in his sweats at the display of skill.

“Guess that works, too,” he murmurs, actively avoiding Ghost’s gaze. No need to show off how fucking gone on him he is, and he knows there’s hearts in his eyes right now. He’s bound to be suspicious just based on how desperate Soap is to make things perfect, to give him a better Christmas than year past, and he should try better to keep his feelings hidden. Not looking to get his heart broken over the holidays.

“Anything for you, Johnny,” Ghost tells him as he strides back to the couch and picks up his book again. Soap can feel his cheeks heating up and blurts out some half-assed excuse before making a tactful retreat.

—

He debates waiting until morning, but Soap is too curious about the package in his hands to wait that long. His box of gifts from his family arrived today, but he didn’t bother unpacking it until after dinner. Everything was neatly labeled - or scribbled by his nieces and nephews - with his name except for one.

To Ghost, From Ma MacTavish. Open Immediately.

Not one to disobey his mother, Soap raps on Ghost’s door and hopes this isn’t something too embarrassing. Lord knows his entire family is annoying enough already over his little crush, and he doesn’t need his mother stepping in to help him. There’s a rustling from behind the door before it’s swung open by a brooding Ghost. Anyone else might not see how moody he is, but Soap can tell just by studying his eyes.

“What do ya need?” he asks, voice cracking from disuse.

“Got a special delivery for you and instructions for you to open it right away,” Soap informs him, holding up the package like the peace offering that it is. Ghost eyes it suspiciously but steps aside and lets him into the room. While he’d love a chance to look around, Soap keeps his focus on Ghost out of respect for his privacy. He knows just letting him into the room was a big step for the other man.

“Your mum sent this?” Ghost asks as he takes the parcel from him. Soap nods and smiles warmly as Ghost’s eyes widen. “Better not keep her waiting then,” Ghost mutters before sitting on the edge of his bed. The package looks huge, even in his large hands, and Soap really wonders what it could be.

He tears the paper at the seams, carefully working a finger down the edge of it. It’s gentle in a way that hints of Christmases past and perhaps being yelled at to keep the wrapping for next year. Soap’s grandma used to do that and iron out each crease to save money.

When Ghost finally removes the paper, soap breathes a sigh of relief at seeing the present isn’t anything to worry about. Trust his mother to try and take care of someone she’s never met. Ghost holds up the blanket, blinking slowly at it. Soap supposes he isn’t used to getting many gifts, especially not something handmade. The blanket itself is a mix of blank and white granny squares, no doubt crocheted with love by his mother. Everyone in their house has at least one of these piled at the foot of their bed, and his heart warms at the thought of Ghost having one on his.

“She made it?” he asks in a whisper, and Soap wants to cry about it. There’s no reason a gift should put him in such a state of awe, and he vows right then and there to spoil him as much as he’s allowed to under the guise of friendship.

“You’re looking at a Ma MacTavish special right there. Everyone in the family has one, and it looks like she thinks highly of you,” he confirms.

“Never even met me.”

“Well, I suppose I’ve entertained her with a tale of two of the man who saved my life so many times. Besides, how else do you think she’d know the perfect color scheme for an emo bastard like yourself,” He says in an attempt to lighten the mood. The corners of Ghost’s eyes crinkle up, and he knows there’s a smile beneath the mask.

“You’ll have to thank her for me. No, wait! I’ll get a thank you note together for the next time you send mail home. That alright?” he asks almost timidly, which isn’t an emotion Soap’s sure he’s ever shown before.

“She’ll love that. Sorry to barge in on you so late at night, but I’m glad I did. Should probably be heading to bed, though,” Johnny says with a pout. Dreams of being asked to stay, to tuck himself against Ghost under that very blanket flash through his mind and he has to get out of here quickly before he shows his hand.

“Me too. Night, Johnny,” Ghost says, and he understands it for the dismissal that it is. The last thing he sees as he ducks out the door is Ghost spreading the blanket across the top of his bed and smoothing it out. He’ll have to send his mother a thank you note as well.

—

There is absolutely no reason for them to be in Soap’s room instead of the rec room, but he wasn’t about to say no when Ghost suggested it. Currently they are sitting on his bed - which is way too small for two grown ass men - with their backs against the wall and his laptop propped on top of their thighs. Ghost is a constant warm presence at his side, and he’s pretty sure he would be completely lost if he hadn’t seen this movie so many times.

They each have a glass of their preferred poison in hand, and Ghost has his mask tucked up over his nose while he purses his lips at the screen in front of them. He is so fucking stunning with the light from the laptop highlighting the planes of his face, and Soap would be weak in the knees were he standing. Not that Soap is abusing his trust just to watch him more than the movie. Absolutely not. Still, the sight of Simon’s sharp jawline is a rare one and he can’t seem to stop staring. He longs to scrap his teeth over the scar that curves around it and has to hold himself back from scooting even closer to him.

“I don’t get it,” Ghost says, breaking him out of his dangerous thoughts.

“How so?” he asks, eyes already turned back to the screen to see what part of the movie they’ve reached. Nearly done at this point, but the silly plot has been a fun distraction. They don’t often get downtime, time totally free of responsibilities, and he hopes he can go without this once everything is back to normal.

“This just seems so improbable. His family forgot to bring him to the airport and they don’t have a single family friend they can call in the meantime? The police are actively searching for these two assholes and yet a child is the only one who manages to take them down? Gotta admit some of these traps are pretty awesome, though,” Ghost rambles out.

“One, I can’t believe you’ve made it this far in life without watching this. Two, this film is a masterpiece because it makes you suspend reality. Three, I’m pretty sure this is why I ended up in demolitions anyway. Do you know how many things I blew up after seeing this? I thought my Pa was going to murder me just as an example for my brothers and sisters. One time I rigged a frying pan to hit my brother in the face and it broke his fucking nose,” Soap says, unable to hold in his laughter. “Pretty sure he was about to pack me off and make me Nan deal with me, but my Ma couldn’t let her baby go.”

“You’re a real piece of work, Johnny,” Ghost tells him softly. He brings his glass up to his mouth, and Soap watches him swallow slowly, desperately trying to remind himself how they’re friends and nothing more. “Glad it brought you to me, though.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, heart pounding in his chest.

But then they fall into an easy silence, and he’s forced to turn back to the movie. They both finish their drinks as the plot winds down, and he’s about to offer another when Ghost grabs his wrist to stop him from standing up. He looks down, worried that he’s overstepped somehow, and the tightness in Ghost’s clenched jaw startles him.

“We’ve had a good week, yeah?” Ghost asks quietly.

“Loved every second of it,” Soap blurts out before he can stop himself.

“Might not love this so much,” Ghost says with a sigh. “I’ve…I’ve never been this close with anyone, barely even shared this with Price, but I’d like to give you some sort of explanation for why I keep to myself at Christmas. If you’ll listen, that is.”

“Ghost, I will always be here, no matter what you want to tell me. Thank you for trusting me so much, but are you sure you want to do this while we’re drinking?” he has to ask, needs to be sure his friend won’t regret this come morning.

“You think I just keep bourbon and scotch on hand? That’s kinda the reason why I brought it with me. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while now, but I needed a little courage to do it. Just, just don’t say anything until I’m done, ok? If you do I might not be able to finish,” he warns him, his voice barely more than a whisper.

Sensing how important this is, Soap sets both their glasses on his bedside table and closes the laptop. His desk lamp is on, so they’re not totally in the dark. He knows rumors of Ghost’s past, has heard a bunch of shit about his time in captivity, but every scrap of information is dear to him. He longs to know the man beside him better than he knows himself. He leans back against the wall and angles his body towards Ghost before saying, “Course. I got you.”

“When I was little, the only person I cared about was my mum. She kept me safe, kept my dad and brother away from me the best she could. I know now that my brother was only doing what he could to avoid my dad’s rage, but it still hurt back then. I won’t lie, I had a real shitty childhood and ran into the service as soon as I could. After that, things started improving. I came back home, kicked my sorry excuse for a father out of the house, and got my brother off of drugs. Hell, I stood beside him as he married the love of his life, and I wouldn’t give that up for anything, but the memories threaten to crush me sometimes.”

He trails off and palms the back of his head, chewing at his lower lip. Soap stays silent, unwilling to break his promise even though Ghost looked on the verge of falling apart. They sit there for a long moment while he regroups and continues his story. Soap longs to reach out, to offer some sort of physical comfort, but he knows better than to act on it. Simon doesn’t enjoy being touched on a good day, and he’d absolutely hate it while letting himself be this vulnerable.

“Things were going well until I got betrayed and snagged by Roba. Fuck, Johnny,” he breaks off, swallowing thickly before pressing his fingers to his mouth. “It was bad. I won’t go into details, but you can only be tortured for so long before you start to doubt yourself, start to go mad instead of trying to fight it. I have no fucking clue how I managed to survive after being left for dead, but I eventually made it back home.”

Ghost shifts his legs, twitching as he picks at the fabric of his sweats. He takes a few deep breaths and stares ahead at the wall, shoulders tense as he continues. “They died on Christmas, and it was all my fault. Roba still had his hooks in me, and couldn't let me go since I escaped with my life. One more betrayal led me back to my mum’s house that only hours before had been full of celebration and Christmas cheer. When I got there, the whole house was up in flames. The fire was so hot, but I had to save them. Only it was too late, because they were lying dead near the doorway. They even put a bullet through the forehead of my nephew. He was so small, so fragile, and I couldn’t even save him.”

He falls quiet, and it seems like he’s finished. Soap knew it was bad, but wasn’t expecting something so tragic. He wasn’t sure what to say, so he just lays a hand on Ghost’s shoulder and squeeze it gently, deciding to risk the touch at this point. It seems to shatter something inside of him and he slumps over to lean on Soap’s shoulder.

“The men involved?” he asks quietly.

“Killed them all. Didn’t bring back my family, though. So yeah, Christmas fucking sucks, but at least I’m not alone this year. Didn’t know it would be easier with you here, but you always manage to help me stay calm. Should have expected it,” he says. His voice is tinged with exhaustion, and Soap knows he’s worn himself out.

“Thank you for trusting me with this. I, it’s, well it’s fucked up that you had to experience that. I know nothing I say can help make it much better, and I’m honestly not sure how you managed to get through it, but I’m grateful you did. I can’t imagine being here without you,” Soap says after a long moment. He knew Ghost has a shitty past, had heard about him digging himself out of his own grave, but this is a whole new level of horrible. If it happened to him, he can’t say he would still be here to talk about it.

“Price helped a lot. Pushed me through it and then kept me around,” Ghost says, turning to stare at the wall. Soap isn’t sure what he can offer at this point, but he has the feeling Ghost might not want to be alone after unloading all of this.

“Stay with me?” he asks, watching as Ghost’s shoulders rise up. He still isn’t looking at him, so he keeps talking. “I mean, you don’t have to, but I can’t imagine wanting to be by myself after such an intense conversation. Would feel bad if I let you go back to your room, really.”

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t actually sleep with the mask on,” Ghost says with a chuckle. And ok, he can work with that.

“So let me freshen up and get myself ready for bed. You can go after me, and I’ll just sleep on my side. I can keep my eyes shut, give you your privacy,” he suggests. Ghost finally turns to look at him, and there’s a telltale hint of red around his eyes. If Soap was still religious, he’d offer up a prayer that the other man agrees. He clearly needs comforting tonight.

“Yeah, ok,” Ghost mumbles. “Gonna change into my sleep stuff, though. I’ll get ready in my room and be back in a few.”

He practically leaps out of the bed, and Soap hopes he holds true to his word. He goes through his nightly routine on autopilot, not even aware of it until he’s crawling into his bed. He leaves the side of the covers up and turns onto his side to face the wall. It’s only just catching up to him that he invited Ghost into his bed, but tonight isn’t about him. He’d be offering the same closeness to Gaz if he shared something as horrific as Ghost just did.

If anything, this only proves how amazingly strong Ghost is. He had to reinvent himself twice, the second time with no one to support him. They’ve all seen and done some really horrendous things in the name of queen and country, but he can’t fathom coming home to find the burning bodies of his family at his feet.

He’s yanked out of his spiraling thoughts by the sound of the door opening and shutting. The clunk of Ghost setting down his boots seems impossibly loud in the silence, and he holds his breath waiting for Ghost to come to bed. He hears the muffled sound of Ghost removing his mask and setting it on the bedside table and fights the urge to turn around and look at his gorgeous face. He’s here as a friend tonight, and his feelings don’t matter right now.

The bed dips behind him, and the covers shift as Ghost settles in behind him. There’s an awkward few seconds where they both shuffle around trying to figure out how two large men can fit in such a small bed, but then Ghost sighs and rolls onto his side to frame Soap from behind. He slings an arm across Soap’s hips and presses his nose against the nape of Soap’s neck. The last thing he hears as he drifts off is a soft, “Thank you, Johnny.”

—

Unsurprisingly, Ghost is gone when he wakes up. The bed is still warm, though, so he knows he spent the whole night. He wishes he could have woken him up with a Merry Christmas, but understands his need for time to himself. Chris, last night had been a lot. Hopefully he can still provide a little holiday cheer tonight, but even if they eat in silence he’ll have a great time. Every second spent at Ghost’s side is a better gift than anything he could ever fine underneath the tree.

He spends the morning in the gym, working out his frustrations. Life wasn’t fair, but it has been exceedingly rotten towards Ghost. He knows there isn’t anything he can do to change his past, but he’ll damn sure be here for his future. It feels like they crossed a line last night, but he’s not sure which one. Nothing romantic happened, but he feels closer to Ghost than anyone before. He’s willing to bet Ghost hasn’t opened up this much to many people, probably just Price, and he’s ashamed at how giddy that makes him feel.

They might not ever be together, but they’ll always be solid.

After lunch and a long, self-indulgent shower it’s easy to keep himself busy by running through last minute preparations. They hadn’t said anything about exchanging gifts, but Soap kept finding the perfect things for him.He knows Ghost will love the aged bourbon, even though it hurt his Scottish heart to buy it. There’s also a new knife that came highly recommended by their armorer and a deck of cards with holographic skulls on them. Wrapping was never his strong suit, but he managed to slap some paper onto his gifts. Sure, it looked like they were wrapped by a small child, but it’s the thought that counts, right?

He just finishes heating up the catering he picked up the day before and is about to text Ghost to hurry up and join him when his phone goes off. It’s an incoming FaceTime from his mother, and he decides there’s plenty of time to take it before Ghost swings by. He’s been missing his family all day, but they promised to call at some point.

“Ma! Happy Christmas!” he shouts, laughing as his entire family tries to crowd into the camera view.

“You’ll each get a turn, back off,” his mother says, already throwing elbows at his siblings and their kids. His dad stands next to her, silent as always but with a huge smile on his face. He lifts his glass in cheers, and Johnny waves back in response.

“We’re about to eat dinner, but It’s good to see you all. Make sure everyone gets hugs from me, even though I’m not with you this year. And pass out my presents! Make sure the kids know how much Uncle John spoils them. I want photographic evidence!” he says, laughing as one of his nieces tries to jump into the view again. His dad picks her up and wanders off, no doubt about to bribe her into behaving with cookies.

“I hope staying away is worth it,” his mother says, but she doesn’t look mad, just nosy. She’s been on him for months to bring his boy home, no matter how much he tells her they aren’t dating. Ghost is one hundred percent his boy, though, even if he hasn’t realized it yet.

“It’s worth every second away from you all,” he answers honestly, “I’ll be home as soon as we get more downtime, but you know why I have to be here. Thanks for understanding.”

“Anything for my baby,” his mom says, snorting when he scowls at her.

“You ever going to stop calling me that?” he asks, knowing full well she never will. He isn’t mad, not really, just likes to give her grief about it.

“If you didn’t want to be my baby, you’d have been born higher up the chain,” she tells him with a smirk.

“We can argue about it later. Let me get dinner on the table and then we’ll chat again later, yeah? We can pass around the phone so all the kids can show me everything they got,” he suggests, and his mom nods in response.

“Go feed your boy,” she tells him and ends the call before he can quip back at her.

“Not my boy,” he mumbles to the empty room.

But then someone clears their throat from behind him, and his heart sinks into his chest. Fuck. He spins around with a fake smile on his face to find Ghost standing there with his arms crossed.

“I’m assuming you heard all of that?” he asks with a grimace.

“You lied about your family not being together,” Ghost says, though he knows it’s a question.

“Aye, I did. And I don’t feel bad about it. I couldn’t leave you here alone again. Like it or not, I’m here for you,” he says with a sharp nod. He’s already gearing for a fight, ready to be stubborn as hell about it, but what Ghost says next throws him off his game.

“Because I’m your boy,” he asks, and Johnny can hear the fucking smirk in his voice. He has a plain balaclava on today, which is as dressed down as Ghost seems to get.

“Don’t suppose you’d be willing to let that one go? We can forget about it,” he offers quietly. Because who is he to keep dreaming, right? He’s been dropping hints for at least a year now, and Ghost hasn’t taken the bait. He teeter-totters between thinking the man returns his feelings to thinking he barely tolerates him. Regardless, he meant what he said and he’ll be standing by his side as long as Ghost lets him.

“And if I don’t want to forget it? What if I wanted to be your boy? Though I’d prefer man, if we’re being honest here,” Ghost says, and he freezes while his brain catches up.

“You fucking with me?” he asks, just because he needs to know, needs to be sure before he makes a fool of himself. Well, more of a fool than he already has.

“No, but we could fool around later if dinner goes well,” Ghost tells him, laughing as he reaches up and pulls the mask off. He tosses it onto the table, barely missing the salad bowl.

And fuck, he’s a bonnie lad. Soap can’t even speak, just stands there staring at him, eyes trailing over every exposed inch of his face, committing it to memory in case this is the last time he sees it for a while. “You’re stunning,” he whispers in awe. Then he has the pleasure of watching Ghost’s face darken, the apples of his cheeks turning pink and making the freckles dotting them stand out even more.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before stepping closer. “But yeah, I’m all in if you want this too. Want me. I’m sick of wasting time. Maybe next year we can be with your family instead of me keeping you stuck on base.”

“I want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my entire life,” he says truthfully. “And I’d rather be stuck here every single year if you prefer it. But you heard my Ma. She wants you home with me.”

“Let’s make sure we make it to next Christmas, then,” he jokes, but there’s a hint of worry in his tone.

“Never letting go of you now,” Soap warns him with a laugh. Ghost chuckles and moves in so close the toes of their boots touch.

“Hard to let go if you haven’t even touched me yet,” he points out. And fuck if his smirk isn’t as lovely as Soap had imagined. It’s crooked, a scar bisecting the left side, but it’s perfect to him.

“Better fix that. Can I kiss you, Ghost?” he asks softly.

“Simon. Call me Simon when we’re alone,” he says breathily, and Soap knows how out of his comfort zone he is right now.

“Simon, can I kiss you? Please?” he asks and Simon just nods at him.

And so he does. He cups Simon’s cheeks, brushing a thumb across the constellation of freckles there, and leans in to press their mouths together. It seems almost anticlimactic after all their flirting, but the feel of Simon’s chapped lips against his is one of the best things he’s ever experienced. He can almost feel the tension leave both their bodies as they melt into each other. He keeps things light, pulls back before thinking better and darting back for another quick kiss.

Kissing Simon isn’t a burst of fireworks, but it’s like coming home which is even more perfect.

“Would now be a good time to tell you I’m really fucking in love with you?” he asks teasingly.

“Only if I can say the same,” Simon says, chuckling as he palms the back of Johnny’s head and drags him into another kiss.

And if they stand there kissing in the middle of the rundown rec room, lost in each other long after their dinner has gone cold, it’s no one's business but their own.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #my fic

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nyxronomicon · 1 year

Text

All Mine

demon!Toji x virgin!GN reader

cw: cherry popping, talk of masturbation, Toji uses his tail, penetration (unspecified anal or vaginal), creampie, reader rides Toji, Toji's horns are sensitive, mild possessive!Toji, BITING and hickeys, spit as lube, begging, finger sucking, sex toy mentions, size (sorry i can't stop myself. toji's huge we all know it) nicknames: angel, baby, sweetheart

part of monsterfucktober!

You lay in your bed, a hum of desire coursing through you as you switched on your new vibrating sex toy. The toy immediately turned off. Strange, since you just finished charging it. You turned it on again, watching it in your hand a moment before it switched itself off again.

You frowned. The instruction manual was across the room, so you decided to try it one more time before getting up. It started up again, but instead of switching off after a few seconds like before, the toy disappeared right from your hand.

You immediately sat up. What just happened? You were sure you didn't drop it, and it was nowhere to be found on your bed. You looked around, noticing a musky, charred scent and a layer of smoke hanging near your floor.

"You rang?" You heard the voice before something appeared at the foot of your bed. The way he appeared out of thin air with those big horns and bat wings told you something was very wrong with that toy.

"Um, who are you?" You scooted backwards on your bed until you reached the headboard.

"You don't know?" The man smirked. "That's ok, sweetheart, I can take it from here."

"What?" Your eyes went wide. You felt so exposed in front of him. You wore nothing but a tight t-shirt and underwear, the lust that was just pulsing through you completely forgotten.

"That little toy is a pact." He stated, moving closer to you. "I'm the demon you summoned."

"I summoned you?" Now that you thought about it, there were some weird symbols on the toy. You didn't really consider the idea that they could be real demon summoning pact marks. You just thought it was a cool witchy design.

The demon joined you on your bed, laying next to you as he shamelessly traced a finger along your torso. "I think we both know what you summoned me for." You squirmed a little at the rake of his claw pushing up at the bottom of your shirt.

You had to admit he was hot. An actual demon showing up out of nowhere to have sex might freak a rational person out, but this was a dream come true for you. His black hair fell around the twisted horns you wanted to grip while you rode him. He looked strong, with more than enough muscle to throw you around like a rag doll. He was wearing something akin to sweats, but you could still see the outline of his cock pressed against the fabric. You only just now noticed his tail swaying behind him.

"Call me Toji." He grinned as you allowed him to push your shirt up your chest. "For when you want to scream my name later." He lightly dragged his claw around your bare nipples, sending shivers down your spine.

"Mmh, yeah." You laid back, relaxing into his touch. "Toji..." you whispered to yourself as his hand wandered, touching you everywhere except where you needed it most.

"Sounds almost angelic when you say my name, sweetheart." He tilted your chin, pressing a kiss on your neck. "You a virgin?"

"I, uh..." You stammered. "I mean, I've masturbated, but..."

"Fuck," he mumbled against your skin, "really? Say it..." His sharp teeth brushed against the sensitive skin as he sucked your neck. His hand finally rubbed over your sex, his thick fingers feeling your every contour through your underwear. You hummed, letting yourself feel good. Letting him make you feel good.

"Ok, yeah," your voice was breathy. "I'm a virgin. It's embarrassing." Your back arched when you felt his teeth bite into you, the sharp pain immediately dulled with pleasure. It felt like a dream, even with the pain.

"Nah," He pressed his hard cock against you as his tail snaked between your thighs. "It's fuckin' sexy. That means you're all mine."

You traced your hands over his bare chest as he pulled your underwear off. His tail immediately rubbed against your arousal, teasing your opening. His hand followed, rubbing you as he nipped at a new spot on your neck. You moaned, arching your back as desire pulsed through you.

Toji's tail pushed into your entrance, feeling your warmth wrapped around him. "You're tight." He whispered, landing his lips elsewhere on your neck, marking you up like his property.

"Toji-" You mumbled his name, but he shoved two fingers into your mouth before you could say anything else.

"Get those nice and wet for me, yeah?" His voice vibrated against your skin. You obediently hummed, sucking his fingers. Your mind started going hazy with pleasure as he languidly swirled his tail inside you, taking his time to decorate your neck with hickeys until you were whimpering with desire.

"Mmh," You moaned around his fingers to get his attention as you squirmed, your whole body buzzing with need.

"You wanna beg me for somethin', sweetheart?" He grinned, biting you again. You nodded, bucking your hips to his touch. "You want my cock, angel?"

You felt his tail stretching you out, preparing you for his girth. He pulled his soaked fingers out of your mouth, taking his dick out of his sweats to rub your saliva all over it. "I'm listening." He stated, paying more attention to himself than you, although his tail still wiggled inside you.

"T-toji..." You stammered, your voice hoarse as your body ached for more. "Please, please... I want your cock..."

"Yeah, angel?" He chuckled. "Maybe I'd like to torture you a little more."

"No, fuck," you gasped as he pulled his tail out of you. "I need you, please..." You pushed your thighs together, desperate for friction. Toji immediately frowned, roughly spreading your legs again. He twirled his tail around your swollen arousal, grinning at your lewd expression.

Suddenly, he pulled you on top of him, leaning against your headboard. "Ride me like that dildo of yours, angel."

"I've never, uh," your face was hot as you stammered. You couldn't compare to an actual sex demon.

"C'mon, angel." He pushed his hips against yours, his thick cock nestled tightly against your sex. He pressed his lips to your neck again, obsessed with marking every inch of your soft skin. "Show me what you can do."

You lined yourself up with Toji's help, slowly lowering yourself on his tip. He was big, so you went slowly to allow yourself to stretch around him. He grabbed your hips, helping you push yourself onto him.

"It hurts..." you murmured, knowing it probably would, even though you were no stranger to toys. He ran his hands over your thighs and ass, letting you pause for just a moment.

"'s ok, baby... keep going for me." He whispered into your ear before gripping your waist and pushing deeper into you. A possessive growl turned into a moan as he bottomed out, teeth sinking into your flesh again. You felt tight around him, but as your body adjusted, the pain disappeared.

"That's it, angel." He dragged his tongue along the marks littered along your neck. His tail found your sex, swirling around your sensitivity until he heard another moan.

You throbbed around him, riding him at a slow pace to start. It wasn't long before you sped up, eyeing his horns as he left another hickey just below your ear. One of your hands remained on his shoulder to keep you stable, but the other wrapped around the base of one of his horns.

Toji growled. "Sensitive..." his teeth grazed your skin as he fucked into you, setting a faster pace that repeatedly hit your g-spot. Your fingers wrapped around his horn more tightly as your desire spread, feeling the familiar cusp of an orgasm approaching.

"Toji..." you moaned. His tail flicked your arousal, amplifying your pleasure as you lost your mind to lust. Each thrust had you seeing stars, the white hot orgasm suddenly washing over you. "Ah, I'm-" You interrupted yourself with a moan, squirting all over Toji as he continued to pound into you.

"Fuck, angel..." he was relentless, now chasing his own high. "All mine..." he growled, your body pulsing with overstimulation. Suddenly, you felt him twitch inside you, grunting as you could feel his seed fill you.

He stopped thrusting, letting you go limp on top of him. "How was that, angel?" He grinned, tracing your back with his claws.

"Holy shit." You were still catching your breath when you responded.

"You know how to find me next time, yeah?" The demon affectionately stroked your head.

"Mm-hmm." You hummed in affirmation, drifting off in his arms. He didn't speak before vanishing from under you, leaving you to collapse and fall asleep on your bed as his cum drooled out of you.

You might have thought this was all a dream if you hadn't woken up to a neck littered with hickeys and bite marks. Just seeing them made your body throb with desire. You glanced at your enchanted toy, wondering if the now was too soon to summon him again.

#jjk smut #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #kinktober 2023 #monsterfucktober #x reader #sorry for putting every single kink under the sun in this i kinda let my pussy write it ngl.....

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thattimdrakeguy · 2 months

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What Happens When You Only USED To Care

I find it extremely hard to take any person in the fandom that does that schtick where they make fun of Tim based on made up or overly exaggerated stuff seriously.

I can't even find it within myself to give them the power of my hate, because it's more like a fly near your ear. You swat em away and bye bye bye.

Maybe it's because I know so much about how DC ended up being, that I can tell when they're bullshitting and saying stuff others put in their ear.

I mean you take a kid's favorite toy, and add modifications and paint jobs that take away the whole point of the toy, the kid's aren't going to want to play with it anymore.

Am I expected to blame the toy itself?

Especially with how the fandom has bastardized these characters that they so clearly love, but they still constantly get cancelled.

And I won't make mention of who, because someone will get sensitive, and plus then say "WELL TIM DID TOO" showing they're completely missing my point and didn't read the whole post.

I'm not sure why the fandom thinks taking complex and fascinating characters that allowed readers to escape their potentially bleak lives to jump into something more joyful (at least in an entertainment kind of way) and turning them into sitcom tropes is a great idea that OH IS SO GREAT, and EVERYONE WILL PREFER.

'Cause when the comics start copying that trend, you're actually scaring most people away.

Sure it's different from the big bad edgy we had to deal with a while, but it's still not getting these things back to were the once were.

You're replacing the bad, with a different flavor of bad. This time coated in a superficial dusting of praise that doesn't help anything get anywhere.

See, the fandom isn't as big as it may seem. It functions as an echo chamber which gives the illusion of their being way more. These comics wouldn't constantly be cancelled if they were as good or as popular as people make them out to be.

So all those posts praising the nonsense are as functional as having that one friend who praises you no matter what while the rest of the world says otherwise. Might feel good at the time, but let's face it, it gets you nowhere.

And that's just how the internet works. A bunch of little weirdos sitting around making their chamber, and thinking what they say to someone else still matters.

But it don't.

It doesn't.

They're all just so confident they mean something, when they mean as much to the greater world as a weed so far out of view, you don't bother trying to pull it.

You can make up what ever you want, and try to be as abrasive and irritating about what you made up as much of you want, go out praising when some desperate writer that settles for brownie points over critical praise and legacy puts it into a comic to find validation also as much as you want.

But the lack of genuine interest from most people still leaves it as a dud.

So many characters people think are popular, when they're tragically not, no matter if they were formerly good, is saddening. Because a lot of these characters at one point were good, and interesting, and genuinely popular beyond the small pond filled with indignity.

At best they have fan bases that once cared but now no longer do. That don't bother paying attention, because why should they after being denied the simple thing they want--good writing and characterization. The whole reason most start reading in the first place.

I might point one finger at one of these dudes, because I can comfortably say I used to love them too.

No one bothers trying to help out, and bring them back up though.

They want the instant glorification from a bunch of nobodies, who don't care about them as a person, and are only a validation machine instead of anything with a beating heart in it that will truly be there for them when times gets rough besides thoughts and prayers alone.

And as many years as I've seen this stuff, it never stops.

If I haven't been in a better place since I've almost entirely left DC behind in the dust, I would consider that depressing.

These people are online doing this so much that it is what they dedicate their lives to.

It is their life.

They made themselves so unlikable though, that a lot can't be bothered to find pity.

If you have to rewrite reality in your brain, what's the point of living there? You're just convincing yourself you're the only one not wrong, with no hint of irony. What a weirdo thing to do.

Clinging on to things with no solid backing.

In the grand scheme of things they are that insignificant unless you're also stuck in the chamber.

Hell, the only reason I made this post as long as it is, is less out of care and passion, and more because I can't help myself from being overly wordy.

If only DC could be fucked to remember what it takes to write good stories instead of ripping fandom people off. Maybe something would click in and once again take off.

And giving the illusion they now care--

As we can see with the frequent cancelations--

That only works when you have the talent and know how, to tell good stories, with great characters once again. A retro paint job and partially putting the character where they should be can only do so much, when limited talent has to take the rest of the wheel.

Otherwise all you're gonna get is a month or two of decent sells...and it's back into the dumpster again. Where the higher ups might eventually decide to blame the toy and not the manufacturers.

Unless you're Batman or Superman or that level of iconic/popular.

Disappointingly and quite obviously, it's not hard to know if not assume most characters don't have that level of icon to have their back in the dark times. Meaning most go back into the void unless the ones upstairs think this time their new failed from the start scheme will win them all back.

The secret of success in comics is simple, now it may not go back to the way it was, but they can still come back a bit, and here's the secret--

Learn how to fucking tell good stories, with good characterization, with artists that are beyond simply having good talent, but actual passion that shows them how everything's supposed to be.

If I order a nerf gun, and comes not looking anything like what it did on the box.

You know damn well the person who bought it is going to be displeased and not order from them again.

You're testing customer loyalty, and the economy not doing as grand, and prices going up--

The amount of time you have to get them back is depleting.

So get your head out of your ass and actually do something.

#Tim Drake #DC Comics #Bat-Family #Batfamily #Robin

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beesmygod · 1 month

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"A GHOST STORY" IS A WEBCOMIC I MAKE THAT I WILL BE RE-POSTING, GRADUALLY.

the top row is from 2013, the bottom row is from the 2018 re-draw. while the panel progression in the re-draw is much better (as well as the consistency in sound effects and gutters), i think it was a mistake to change the black eyed kid's sniffing posture to the one where he's not clearly trying to get a big whiff of the air. whiff whifff...like an animal in the Savannah.

posting this so far has been making me feel very, very sad. but i have a feeling that most of my really bad feelings are connected more to the generalized anxiety of having to put work i no longer stand by on display for people to judge. these posts are, ostensibly, supposed to entice you into reading the comic that has consumed my life for 10 years (and i think about near constantly). but the idea of trying to convince people that something i made is good enough to spend their time on is a really stomach-churning task. it is frightening. i do not like myself enough to ask people to make investments in me both financially and in terms of their free time.

also the world at large is very bad right now. it is hard to navigate the world and "hustle" when everyone is doing so poorly and you know it's annoying to be subjected to someone's mediocre creation that they have outsized feelings about. the question i always ask myself when i hit print on my comic is "is this something i would read?" and the answer is still no. but i'm getting closer. i feel like i've been honing a knife edge for a decade but it's nowhere close to being up to the standard i want. but it's not like the knife isn't getting sharper. it is. but is it beneficial to ask others to help me sharpen it? what are they getting out of it?

regardless, this is the comic i was capable of making at the time. both times. the top row pages reflect the best efforts of someone working a desk job and going to school and the bottom row reflects the efforts of someone who worked on these pages in between their usual 2x a week update schedule (when possible, the re-draw took several years to make)

why am i making "A Ghost Story"? first, it was because it was bursting at the seams with ideas and had the energy to execute them. even if the end result was sloppy, it was freed from my mind. now its because i can see It. i can see the arc the story and the characters are taking and i want to shepherd them there. there's something at the end there, if not for me than for them. just to get them to where they need to go and where they need to be. is that enough? these things that only exist and matter to me actually hold on that thought is way too big for this already huge post. maybe next time.

short version of that long thought, for now: i am deeply troubled by wondering why people do the things they do, and push my dolls around to understand the actions of other people and also myself. there's more to people than the surface and rudimentary opening chapters of my comic were looking to explore. i needed to go deeper. i want to know what drives people. and i want to make people laugh while doing it.

---

♥ read the comic: A Ghost Story ♥ support the comic for as little as $1 a month on Patreon ♥ pay what you want for the re-draw of the first chapter on itch.io

you can block the tag "#AGS repost" to keep this off your dash

#ags repost

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dean-a-mean-tae · 11 months

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Facts About Nicholas “Liam” | Stay Kids Extra Member AU

(@cafekitsune made the dividers)

☼Childhood☼

(Update 11/3/23 | Taken From Family post)

☾ Born in Atlanta, GA, where Nicholas lived with his parents and his older sister, Lillian. They moved to South Korea when he was nine. He speaks English and is still learning Korean.

☾ Their parents have a very dated view of life, so Nicholas and Lillian grew up in a misogynistic, toxic household ☾ He wasn't allowed to do anything they thought wasn't "masculine" ☾ His parents wouldn't let him clean after himself, but he learned in secret when they were away ☾His parents took him to the doctors because of the constant pain he was in. Nolan didn't believe Nicholas had chronic pain because in his words "I'm a doctor myself, I would know if you had it." ☾ To punish him for "acting out"(being in pain) they wouldn't allow him dinner

☾ Surprisingly, his grandmother (Tamaya's mother) was the one who taught him basic "feminine" things; cooking, cleaning, taking care of others, respect

☾ His mother was against him pursuing any entertainment career, but Nolan and Nick's grandfather (Tamaya's father) let him do it

☼Fun Facts☼

☾ He still isn't fluent in Korean

☾ He's an introvert, a gremlin introvert.

☾ Loves playing the piano

☾ HIs love of music came from his grandfather (His mother’s father | Update 10/26/23)

☾ He has a cat named Chewy, that lives with Lillian and their grandparents. (Update 10/26/23)

☾ When he speaks English, it sounds "normal". - But when he gets worked up, like angry or upset, he has a accent when speaking English that makes Hyunjin and Jeongin weak

☾ He struggles with loss of appetite, so the rest of the members always share food with him

☾ He can change the pitch of his voice like Felix, but nowhere near as deep or as high as Felix.

☾ He has an issue with his energy, so he falls asleep all the time unless he actually needs to go to bed - So the members will find him sleeping in some random spot

☾ Chan, the only one who fully knows about his childhood, will bring him places and ask him how he feels about something they did while out.

☼Idol Life☼

☾ He became a trainee at JYP Entertainment on March 20, 2015, for three years - Mainly to get away from his parents, but also because his sister encouraged him to do it.

☾ He was 17 when they debuted - Neither of his parents came to the Stray Kids debut stage but his grandfather flew in and went with his sister.

☾ His stage name, Liam, is the name his sister wanted him to have when he was born

☾ Will bring the rest of the maknae line out to eat so they don't worry about him

☾ He'll trail behind the other members with Chan so he's not alone while he's "keeping an eye on the kids"

Nicholas Ross Master list | I'll add more, or do an updated version, as the story continues. We're all learning this character together

©️DEANAMEANTAE2023

Tags list: …

#deantae nicholas ross #skz x 9th member #skz x reader #skz imagines #skz scenarios #skz 9th member #stray kids x reader #stray kids x male reader #stray kids 9th member #stray kids with the 9th member #stray kids extra member #skz x male reader

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bloggingboutburgers · 5 months

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hey! just have a quick question about getting into qprs... i have this person i've known for about 2-3 years now and i'd absolutely love to get into a qpr with them; i've tried to hint at it in the past but my autistic ass can't figure out how to say it and have them pick it up (they've never noticed any of my hints before) without explicitly asking "hey have you heard of this thing called a queer-platonic relationship before? yeah i want to do that with you", as that'd just be awkward and i have nowhere fucking near the confidence to do that with all my anxiety and whatnot. essentially i'm asking for your wisdom on how to suggest it to someone without explicitly saying that and with truckloads more anxiety than the average person. any help will be much appreciated, but keep in mind that autism bars a lot of stuff, including the ability to properly judge social situations (this is one area where i particularly struggle). thank you!!

Heya!

I've said it in the past in response to some other asks, but my partner was the one who suggested the idea of a QPR to me, not the other way around (I had no idea what QPRs were at the time), so... I'm not the best person to give advice on this TwT Of course it doesn't help that every person is different and that there's no guarantee that what works for a person will necessarily work for another...

I will say this though, in case it helps in any way: my partner had known me for a year and a half before they offered the idea, and apparently they'd wanted to offer it within just a couple months of starting to talk to me. Thing is, I'd made it clear early on that I'm not interested in romance or sex (as an aroace it's kind of something I'd built a reflex to let everyone know, at that point, so people wouldn't build expectations on me), so they might've thought even the idea of a QPR might make me wanna distance myself... But no, actually, I took it like it was a completely natural consequence with the most anticlimatic "OK sure sounds cool" imaginable.

But most importantly... "Hey have you heard of this thing called a queer-platonic relationship before? yeah i want to do that with you" IS pretty much exactly how they asked me, and that went well. If there's anything that I can offer as advice or comfort, it's that very fact. I can tell you from experience that it didn't make things awkward for me at all. The confidence part of course is another whole issue that I don't wanna downplay, though I'm not really sure what to offer as an alternative... TwT But I hope whatever you go for, it'll work out well for you in the end.

Here's pretty much word for word how it went for us, if it helps at all as well! There definitely was some tension whiplash to bear with, and some discussions that followed to see where that really left us, but in the end, we really are vibing^^ And personally, I feel there's nothing that works better than actually speaking from the heart and sincerely, as terrifying (and socially dangerous) as that can be sometimes. It can slam back in your face sometimes, I won't deny that, but it can also help a great deal other times, and in my experience, it gets easier the more you do it. Heck, I know it's easier said than done TwT But that's the most sincere thing I could say about that.

#...that said i hope it doesn't come to bite you in the future #getting whiplash from speaking from the heart can truly hurt #but yeah i definitely wish you the best of luck and all the courage nonetheless #queerplatonic #queer platonic relationship #qpr #anon #sorry this is so long btw TwT

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quirkwizard · 3 months

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What are your thoughts on the shows insistence on strengthening quirks as opposed to finding new uses or focusing on technical skill?

Both in the sense of “this is an anime” and for worldbuilding

As much as I want to talk about this and I'm really glad you asked this kind of question, I kind of found myself going on a whole tangent to explain my point. So for this, I'll focus this more on how it see it and how affects it's developed from a story perspective. If you want me to tackle it from a world building perspective, feel free to ask again.

I have a lot of mixed opinions on how Quirks developed over the course of the story. To me, Quirks are the most interesting when they are weaker and more limited, forcing the characters to be creative to master them. That being smart with your power, working around your own weaknesses, and exploiting whatever the situation gives you is what gives you the win. It's what made the fights and powers so cool to read about. Sure, there were more powerful abilities, but they were few and far between and felt more like the cap of the series. However, stuff like that has faded as the series has gone on, both with the design of the Quirks and how the fights are written. It's why I think "Rifle" was one of the last few well-designed Quirks. Cool look, simple power, neatly tied into the character's story, and felt a lot more like it was based around real skill. Quirks like "Fa Jin" and "Gearshift" could have been interesting, but they were just there to grow Izuku's power level. I believe it ultimately comes down to a disconnect between what I want the power system to be, or at least what I thought it was, and what it actually is. That the limits of Quirks aren't something to be built around and improved on, but something to be broken past to get stronger.

I think the issue came when we started getting to the end game. This is because we needed the characters to reach the levels of All For One and All Might. It worked earlier on when All For One and All Might were these mythical, far-off heights that no character could aspire to get to, and their actual level of power is far more nebulous. But as the series goes on, your main characters will have to reach and surpass these heights. Not only to work with the themes of the series of surpassing the next generation, but to up the anti from the last fight. So while I get that, it doesn't really excuse the fights and powers getting less interesting or the sheer leaps we see in the powers. While I always think this started with the MLA Arc, with Tomura suddenly gaining the power to wipe a whole city off the map, it certainly became more prevalent as the series went on. Stuff where the characters have huge leaps in capabilities or a lot of off-screen training. And with that, a lot of the powers and applications just became an excuse to slam the characters into each other. There wasn't as much diversity in the tactics or uses as there was before. Sure, you'd get stuff like Phosphor, but it's nowhere near as prevalent. And don't even get me started on Awakenings, which are some of the worst examples of this.

#My Hero Academia #Quirks #Midoriya Izuku #Deku #One For All #Tomura Shigaraki #All For One #Toshinori Yagi #All Might #Kaina Tsutsumi #Lady Nagant #Rifle #MHA Meta #MHA Theory

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artemistorm · 5 months

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Why Podfics are Important

A big part of why I like podfics so much is because to me it is an accessibility feature. There are times when I cannot look at a screen due to light sensitivity or I don't have spoons/brainpower to interact on Tumblr or or I'm too unfocused to read a fic but I still wanna be distracted and think about blorbos and podfics are perfect for that.

The problem is that there aren't very many of them.

When I first discovered them, I filtered for LU fics with no smut or MCD and there were only like 27 podfics. I listened to all of them in about 2 days. I was disappointed there weren't more, but the ones that were there were all excellent. So I asked myself why not try my hand at making them?

It took me about a week to figure out how to record audio, edit, where and how to host it, and how to link to AO3; and now that I know how to do it, I can record and post a fic in a couple of hours. You don't get alot of attention or fanfare for doing it--podfics are nowhere near as popular as ordinary fics, but it's a public service and its just plain fun. Actually its addicting. Every time I finish recording and posting a podfic my brain is like a sled dog pulling on a rope begging "More! Do more podfics!"

In an ideal world, I think every fic should have a podfic version. It would benefit everyone, not just disabled people. Not only are they good for low spoons time, they're also great for ordinary times when you're doing chores or riding the bus or something and you want something to listen to, just like you would listen to any other podcast. Not to mention the fact that by making podfics, you get to learn the valuable modern skill of recording audio and posting it.

I have a motto: "Try anything once," meaning, I'm game to try out learning any new thing and there's no commitment to do it long term or even do it more than that one time. Its just fun to learn and experiment. I've been trying a new thing every year for the past several years and have had fun gaining a bunch of oddball jack-of-all-trades skills like slacklining, longboarding, watercolor, digital art, and podfics.

I'd like to encourage everyone to try making a podfic and seeing how they like it (it does take a couple of podfics to really get your feet under you though). If you like it, or if you're willing and able to, making more podfics would be an invaluable service to provide for the fandom. And if you can't make podfics for whatever reason, why not just listen to a podfic and drop a kudos or comment or something to let the person doing them know that you appreciate it?

If anyone wants to know how to podfic, please feel free to reach out to me and I'll do what I can to help. Also, I'll be putting together a "how to make a podfic" post in the near future so keep an eye out for that.

#reposting this because something went wrong with the last time I posted it #podfic #fanfiction #linked universe

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bbyteach · 28 days

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Hi hi. I have been thinking about this good morning artwork since you posted. https://www.tumblr.com/bbyteach/757072025688866816/good-morning

It popped into my dreams last night fully animated. I just love it so much. The quiet intimacy. The shadows and colors. The softness conveyed by sharp and delicate line variations.

Getting back into drawing again after years of not and would love to know more about your process and materials. How you sketch. Do you use models? I cannot get over how real bodied these men are in your panels and illustrations.

Love following your work here and on your main blog. Appreciate your talent so much.

hey sorry i've been letting this one sit in my inbox for a bit while my life was a bit chaotic with work - but I do love this ask and talking about process! and i very much appreciate the love for the drawing, thank you for the commentary on the quiet intimacy!

For me it's a combination of starting from a reference, or, sketching out a pose and checking with a reference. I save a BUNCH of ref photos, and I'll pull up a few to look at to check on anatomy. i also have a huge camera roll of weird ref photos I take of myself. I do little checks with my own hands to see what's actually physically possible and such. I also try to keep in mind proportions and how that can be obscured by the lens in photos, so I also use guides on average human proportions:

also can't beat just good old fashioned pencil measuring to check

but outside of the basics, the general proportions of bodies are basically the same at different sizes, it's just getting used to knowing & looking at different bodies! I think this resource seems good - x

def recommend life drawing classes if you have any in person, but I think there's a lot online too. and draw your friends. draw real people you know (with permission). don't only look at people who will be on a cover of vogue or marvel heroes or whatever.

And i sketch a lot. my sketches kind of suck and normally don't look great. lol. i have an astigmatism so it takes a bit of rendering and trial and error to get it to feel like it looks... 'right'? if that makes sense. but also I did a few years only sketching in pen to get more comfortable just doing Lines. i have so many sketchbooks with very sketchy pen work that I would do between work/meetings/whenever I had any real time to do anything that wasn't those things. In recent years it's been great to really get back into drawing again. It's okay if you didn't do it as much or at all for awhile, it's always something you can do more of and refine over the years. 💖

it means so much to recieve so much love on my silly drawings and get a request on my drawing process because I still don't feel like i'm nowhere near where I want to be, and I think that's just the eternal problem for every artist. but I have a compulsion to keep drawing regardless and i just love to make stuff and I like talking with folks who also love to make stuff! I hope any of this helps or wasn't saying anything that felt too repetitive to any other advice or ideas you've heard before. 🙏

#my draws

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minisugakoobies · 2 years

Text

Into the Rush - Part One | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: angst, fluff, smut, crack, Best Friend's Brother!AU, Dodgeball!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, mentions of feeling rejected and unlovable, a little angsty but you know me, pansexual!Taehyung in the house, side VMin, Wooga Squad alert, Himbo NamKook alert, dance leader Hobi is reimagined here as a dodgeball team captain, implied sex, the smut is to come (heh) in part two

Word Count: 7.3K for part one; total wc tbd

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: When your best friend Taehyung tells you he has the perfect thing to help you get over a broken heart, you’re surprised to learn he means dodgeball, the beloved game of sociopathic gym teachers everywhere. But even more surprising is the way you find comfort in the game, and so much more, as you fall into the rush with the help of another teammate - his brother, Seokjin.

A/N: Happy belated birthday, Jin! This was written as part of the Catch of the Century collab, hosted by MVPs @raplinesmoon @joheunsaram and @kithtaehyung!

Sooooo this underwent a few rewrites and then my life blew up as the December deadline got closer and then I decided to do Kinkmas because I'm just a gal who can't say no. I knew I could either rush to get this done, be upset at how shoddily written it is, and then hate myself for putting out something I wasn't proud of just to meet the deadline, orrrrr I could be kind to myself and recognize that I am a human and not a machine and sometimes despite my best efforts I fall short, and release it as a two-parter. Et voilà! Here is part one.

Unbeta'd as usual.

Please don't be a silent reader 🥺 I'd love to know what you think! 💕

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜 Part Two

“Dodgeball. You want to play dodgeball?”

You stare at your roommate incredulously. Taehyung nods.

“Dodgeball. The kids game? The beloved sport of sociopathic PE teachers everywhere? That dodgeball?”

He can’t be serious. Neither you nor he are the athletic type. But from the solemn look on his face as you continue to sputter in surprise, you know he’s not joking. Taehyung is many things - an artist, a daydreamer, the kindest soul you’ve ever met and your best friend of five years and counting - but he’s not a liar.

Still, when he’d walked into your room five minutes ago, yanked back the curtains to let the late-morning light in, and told you to get up because he had an idea, you’d assumed he’d wanted you to go with him down to the coffee shop on the corner so he could covertly admire his latest crush, the cute barista with the pink hair. Dodgeball was nowhere near the possibilities your mind conjured up.

Taehyung sighs. “Yes. Dodgeball. There’s an adult league that plays at the rec center on Saturdays and I want to join. And I want you to join, too.” He flops down on your bed, nudging you over so he can lie next to you, ignoring your grumbles as you make room. “I think it would be good for you to get out a little. Get some fresh air.”

“I have plenty of fresh air,” you inform him, gesturing to your bedroom window, which is currently cracked about an inch. It might be spring, but the chill that clings in the air still feels like winter.

“Uh-huh. Sure you do. But out of curiosity, when’s the last time you actually left the apartment, besides for work?”

“Um.” He’s got you there. Casting your mind back, you can’t even remember the last time you left the safety of your home to do anything other than clock in at the bartending job where you both work. “Does going to the mailbox count?”

It doesn’t, and he doesn’t even need to respond, just gives you his signature exasperated look, but the warmth in his brown eyes shimmers just beneath as always. “Pumpkin,” he begins, using one of the many silly nicknames he loves to address you by, knowing how much you hate cutesy stuff like that, “you can’t hide in here forever.”

An instant rebuttal floats through your mind. You absolutely can hide in your room for the rest of your life, if you so choose. The internet brings the world to your fingertips. Everything can be delivered these days. Okay, true, you’ll still need to leave for work, but that’s only until you finish your novel and net yourself a publishing deal. Then you can quit your crappy bartending job, build yourself the perfect blanket nest, and become the hermit you were always meant to be.

Joining a dodgeball team doesn’t fit into that plan. It’s going to require you to go outside. Outside is dangerous.

Outside is where he is.

At the sharp pang that stabs your gut, you turn to your roommate with a grimace. “I don’t know. I’m not really a… sports…person - and neither are you, frankly. And it’s a team sport, which means others will be relying on you. You really think this is something you can commit to? I mean, remember the gym?”

Last year, the two of you had joined a gym together at his suggestion, which you both had visited a grand total of one time. He later confessed he’d only signed up because a hot customer at the bar had convinced him to after a long evening of flirting. That short-lived commitment ended the moment Taehyung arrived at the gym and discovered that the hot patron’s promise to give Tae a full-body workout was not, to Tae’s disappointment, a euphemism, but only a sales pitch.

Again, Taehyung doesn’t respond to your question. Instead, he uses the one weapon in his arsenal that destroys you every time the two of you argue over what to do.

With a tilt of his head, Taehyung flashes you his big sad puppy dog eyes.

You sigh. “Goddamn it. Fine. Fine. Let’s play dodgeball.”

Immediately, Taehyung’s countenance changes, a brilliant, boxy smile crossing his face as he grins at your caving. “Great! Sign-ups are actually this afternoon, sooooo… up and at ‘em, cupcake! Let’s get moving.” He jumps up, holding out his hands, and you begrudgingly let him pull you out of bed. “You’re definitely going to need a shower before we meet the other players.”

“Have I ever told you how annoying you are?” you mutter as you follow him down the hallway towards your tiny kitchen to brew some coffee, knowing you’ll need the caffeine if you’re going to be socializing with strangers this afternoon.

He beams again, tossing his dark bangs out of his eyes. “All the time.”

The rec center is only a few blocks from your apartment, but you’d never stepped foot inside before Taehyung drags you down there to sign up for the league. Still, there’s a familiar scent when you walk into the building, the smell of rubber mats and sweat mingling together, stirring up memories of PE classes from grade school. The flashbacks make you shudder.

Taehyung shakes you out of your memories as he steers you towards a folding table that’s been set up in the lobby. “Come on, we check in here.” A friendly woman in a purple tracksuit sitting at the table waves you over.

“Hiya! Are you team leaders or free agents?” She laughs at your blank stares. “Okay, I’ll take that to mean you’re not here to sign up an existing team, but you’re free agents in search of a team to join!”

“Oh, yeah, that’s us,” Taehyung nods sagely, as if he knew that.

“Great! If you’ll just fill out these forms…” she hands you both a sheet of paper, “I will process your fees, and then I can point you in the direction of some teams looking to add some new players!”

Forms? Fees? This is more complicated than you’d expected. You’d figured you’d just walk in and play, like joining a pick-up game of basketball or something similar that people who like sports might do. “So, um, how does this work?”

The smile never leaves her face as Ms. Purple Tracksuit explains that you’ll be joining a team for the next ten weeks to play against other teams in a tournament ending in a championship match between the two best teams. “And the fee covers your uniform!”

“A uniform?”

She leans forward, whispering conspiratorially. “Don’t get too excited. It’s just a t-shirt.”

After you hand in your form and make Taehyung pay your fee, Ms. Purple Tracksuit tells you to head into the main gymnasium, where the team leaders looking for new recruits are waiting. There’s another dose of déjà vu as you enter the room to find several clusters of players standing around, sizing you up as you walk in. It reminds you of being a kid, waiting on the sidelines while the other kids whisper to one another about who to pick.

“Uh, this is a little intense,” you whisper to Taehyung, clinging to his elbow as he blithely strolls between the groups. “I feel like I’m being judged.”

“Nah, this is a numbers thing,” he says. According to Ms. Purple Tracksuit, teams consist of six to ten players, so there’s a good chance you’ll be able to find a team together. If you’re picked at all, that is. “Whatever team needs two players will take us, I’m sure.”

Your roommate just wanders through life with a natural confidence that you’ve rarely seen in others. You suppose it makes sense, given how handsome and talented he is. Still irks you a bit.

“And what makes you say that?” You scan the room, taking in the other players. There are several others who wear similar expressions to your own, looking a little overwhelmed. It strangely gives you hope that you won’t be the only one here who doesn’t know what she’s doing.

And then there are those who look like they live, eat, and breathe dodgeball, like the two tall, muscle-bound gods to your left, both wearing a shirt that says “Rock the Balls.” Team leaders, you assume.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Taehyung replies distractedly, and you frown, following his gaze to see what caught his attention, since he’s clearly not listening, only to spy pink hair and a gorgeous smile that you recognize from your favorite coffee shop.

Grabbing his arm, you force your roommate to look at you as you hiss his name. “Taehyung. Tell me we’re not here because of that barista!”

“Hmm?” Tae’s starry-eyed expression is all the answer you need. Of course. Of course he dragged you here so he could flirt with his crush. How did you not see this coming? “What? Noooo, I told you, I want to play dodgeball! But isn’t it a nice coincidence that Jimin is here?”

“Right. Coincidence. You’re unbelievable.” With an exasperated sigh, you give him a push. “Well, go talk to your man. See if his team needs two new players.”

Taehyung doesn’t need telling twice, happily bouncing towards the barista. And now you’re alone in a gymnasium full of strangers, feeling left out again. As you slowly revolve in place, looking for somewhere to hide and wait for Taehyung to return, one of the muscle-bound gods approaches.

“Hey,” he says, giving you a little head nod. “You looking for a team?”

Technically, you suppose you are, but you should probably see if Taehyung will be dragging you on to Jimin’s team with him first. But as you glance at the god, with his wavy dark hair and silver lip ring nestled in the corner of a pair of rather pink lips, you’ve the urge to say yes. He and his buddy are mind-meltingly hot.

“I’m not sure. I’m here with a friend,” you finally respond. Super glad Taehyung forced you to shower today.

The god nods, eyes dragging over your frame. If you touched your cheeks right now, you’re pretty sure they’d be blazing hot under his gaze. “That’s cool. I’m Jungkook, by the way, and this is Namjoon.” He nods to the other god, whose lips quirk in a cool half-smile.

“Sup,” he rumbles, jerking his chin in your direction. He runs a hand through his short, dark hair, fingers scratching over the lines buzzed into the sides. “We run Rock the Balls. And we’re looking for two new members.”

“Actually, that’s gonna be three new members,” a familiar voice declares behind you. Your eyes widen before you spin to find yet another handsome man behind you. But this one you know well.

“Jin-ah!” Throwing your arms around his neck, you attack Seokjin with a hug, grinning as his squeaky laugh echoes through the gymnasium. It’s been nearly a year since you’ve seen Taehyung’s older brother, but he looks mostly the same - the same warm brown eyes surrounded by ever-deepening laugh lines, the same perfect cupid’s bow twitching as he smiles as you. The only difference is that his hair is a little shaggier now, a fluffy brown cloud that bounces when you finally release him.

“I could get used to a hello like that,” Seokjin grins.

“When did you get home?” you ask, vaguely aware that the gods have drifted away. “And what are you doing here?”

“Got in two days ago. I would’ve stopped by to see you and Tae-yah, but I needed to get my land legs back first.” Seokjin probably means that pretty literally, since he’s spent the last year on a research station in the middle of the ocean. As a marine biologist, he works at a local lab run by a federal agency, studying the effects of ocean pollution on various species of fish. Occasionally, he has to do field work, but this last round was his longest stint yet, taking him away from home for nearly twelve full months. “When I texted him this morning, he mentioned that he was joining a dodgeball team, and I… well, I had to check that out for myself.” You both laugh. “So I thought I’d surprise you.”

“You definitely did that!” you confirm. “I want to hear all about your research trip. Did you find anything interesting? Discover any new species?” You lean in excitedly. “Did you finally find some mermaids??”

Seokjin tuts. “Aish, how many times do I have to tell you, I’m not a deep sea diver, I’m just a guy pulling water samples off a dock?”

“Yeah, whatever, Jin Cousteau.”

He rolls his eyes. “I was really hoping that that nickname would’ve died out in the last year.”

“Oh no, that one’s for life. And listen, you can downplay your job all you want, but I know the deal. You just can’t tell me anything because the government forces you to keep those secrets locked down. But I’ll get the truth out of you someday.”

“Oh?” Seokjin cocks an eyebrow. “And just how d-”

“Hyung!!”

“Oof!” Seokjin grunts as your roommate launches himself at his brother, tackling him in a bear hug. When the affectionate embrace becomes a wrestling match in the middle of the gym, you feel a presence at your side, and turn to find Jimin and another man watching the melee with a surprised look on their faces.

“Don’t worry,” you reassure them, “they’re always like this.”

“Uh, okay,” the barista chuckles. “Um, I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Hoseok. Hoseok-ah, this is YN, Taehyung-ah’s roommate.”

“Hey.” The other man grins a smile that can only be described as a beam of pure sunshine, and you wonder if this dodgeball league is for models only, because you’re basically surrounded by nothing but gorgeous people.

“Hi. Um, and that is Seokjin, Tae-yah’s brother,” you gesture to the skirmish.

“Mmmice to meet eww!” Seokjin’s response is a little muffled by Taehyung’s armpit, but he manages to wave.

“Hyung, why didn’t you tell me you were going to be here?” Taehyung whines.

“Anted oo urprise!” Seokjin finally untangles himself from his brother’s headlock. “Wanted to surprise you,” he says again, more clearly.

“We’re starting a new team, and we could use three players, if you’d all like to join us?” Hoseok asks.

“Are you sure you want this on your team?” you reply, gesturing to Taehyung and Seokjin.

“I think we can handle them,” Jimin grins, and Taehyung’s smile turns blinding. “Besides, we could use that energy on the court!”

“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees. “Also, we’re a brand new team, so we’re desperate!”

“That’s my favorite word.” Seokjin’s shoulders shake as he cracks himself up. “We’re in!”

Hoseok smiles. “Fantastic. Welcome to the Seven Slamurai!”

Once you’ve finished signing up for Hoseok’s team, you, Taehyung, and Seokjin decide to grab some dinner together. Another thing about Seokjin that hasn’t changed during his time away is his voracious appetite, so you take him to an all-you-can-eat bbq restaurant not far from the rec center.

As the soju starts flowing and the plates start piling up, Seokjin tells you about his year on the ocean. He starts out with a disclaimer, warning you that his research isn’t interesting, and he’s not entirely wrong. Most of it goes over your head, since it’s been years since you last took a biology course. But it’s not really what he’s talking about that keeps you focused on him, it’s how he talks about it that holds your attention. You’re fascinated by his passion for his work. His dedication to studying ocean life in order to preserve and protect it. It makes you wish you had a cause of your own to defend.

And then, of course, as the liquor catches up with him, he tells you all the gossip about the other crew members on his station - the hookups, the fights, all the little scandals that brought the drama to the high seas. Seokjin’s always been a good storyteller, knowing just what to say to keep you and Taehyung laughing.

“But what about you?” you ask when Seokjin pauses to stuff some pork belly in his face. “Did you have any flings with any of the other scientists? Hmmm? Dip your fishing rod in company waters?”

“Gross,” Taehyung mumbles around a mouthful of beef bulgogi.

Seokjin shakes his head. “Nah. I didn’t click with anyone there like that. Honestly, we spent so much time together each day that by the end of it, I was dying to get away from most of them, which was really hard to do since we were basically stranded together in the middle of nowhere! So I spent a lot of my downtime hiding in my bunk, reading old research papers that I found in the station’s library.”

“You read research papers for fun?” Taehyung looks horrified.

Downing another shot of soju, you lean towards Seokjin, licking the peach-flavored drops from your lips. “Come on. You’re telling me you went an entire year without hooking up with anyone? Not even a little making out?”

“Nope.” Seokjin pops the ‘p.’ At your incredulous look, he laughs, lifting his shoulders. “What? A year’s not that long! I made it just fine.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung agrees, “it’s not that long. Besides, he was probably jerking off nonstop.”

Soju flies out of Seokjin’s nose as you and Taehyung burst into raucous laughter. Seokjin scolds his brother, who argues back as he always does, telling the elder to loosen up, while you sit quietly, chin in hand, smiling to yourself as you watch the fireworks, realizing how nice it is to have Seokjin home again.

He and Taehyung are pretty much a package deal. You’d met Taehyung first during your senior year of college. At the time, Seokjin was finishing up his graduate program at the same school, and his plans to move out of his and Taehyung’s apartment upon graduation and roll right into some field work had Taehyung feeling like he was being left high and dry. You’d ended up becoming Taehyung’s new roommate that summer, and then it had turned out that Taehyung’s worries were all for naught, because Seokjin still spent most of his free time hanging out at his (now your) place, anyway.

You didn’t mind then and you don’t mind now. Seokjin’s a good balance to all of Taehyung’s extremes. Where Taehyung has his head in the clouds, Seokjin’s feet are firmly planted in the ground. Taehyung can be mercurial, even flaky sometimes, but Seokjin’s rock-steady. They’re not complete opposites in everything, though. Just like his brother, Seokjin has a big heart.

Once Seokjin runs out of steam, Taehyung shrugs. “I’m just saying, being with someone isn’t the only way to be satisfied. Just look at me. I’m single and I’m happy.”

He looks almost smug as he states this, and something inside you snaps. The last thing you want to hear from Taehyung is another speech about loving yourself. You’ve heard plenty of those over the last few weeks. You do love yourself.

You just wanted someone else to love you, too.

Pointing your chopsticks at him, you frown. “Oh, please don’t start! One, you were just dating a guy last month, so it’s not like you’ve gone an entire year without being with someone, and two, you literally just dragged me onto a freaking dodgeball team so you could start dating another! So I don’t want to hear any platitudes about embracing your singleness or anything like that.”

Taehyung is silent for a moment after your outburst. “Sorry,” he finally says, poking at the remains of the kimchi on his plate. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Seokjin’s gaze bounces between the two of you. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

Taehyung sees you nibbling on your bottom lip and he turns to his brother. “I can explain. Buttercup here-”

“Buttercup can speak for herself,” you interject, “and don’t call me that.” With a sigh, you slug back another shot of soju and look at Seokjin. He’s waiting patiently to hear what you have to say. “I was… kinda seeing someone a few months ago. And I thought that I had something with them, and it turned out that I was wrong. They didn’t feel the same way I did, so…” You trail off, not sure how to say ‘so I spent the last few months crying in my room over a broken heart.’

Luckily, Seokjin spares you this confession, nodding sympathetically. “I gotcha,” he says simply, and you nod back, stuffing some rice into your mouth so you don’t cry at the warmth in his expression.

“I don’t know why you’re being so cryptic about who it was,” Taehyung frowns. “She’s talking about Yoongi.”

Something passes over Seokjin’s face quickly, so fast you almost miss it as you smack your roommate on his arm. He yelps in shock.

“What? He was going to find out eventually, they’re best friends!”

You know this, but it doesn’t make you feel any better. Seokjin is actually the one who introduced the two of you, at the party he threw before he left for his research trip. You remember that night very clearly, can close your eyes and picture Yoongi standing there, with silver hair and silver hoops in his ears, dark cat eyes shimmering as Seokjin gave him your name, and you feel that same swoop in your stomach as you did then. Only now it comes with a painful twist of your heart as well.

Falling for Yoongi happened so quickly. You’d immediately bonded over a shared love of hip-hop and whisky, spending the party huddled together on the couch, snarking over Seokjin’s music collection and liquor selection, talking until the sun came up and Seokjin started throwing everyone out. As you left, you’d asked Seokjin for Yoongi’s number. But before you even entered it into your phone, a text appeared from Yoongi himself. He confessed he’d asked Seokjin for your number as well.

“I haven’t talked to Yoongi-yah in a while.” Seokjin glances at you. “You know how hard it was for me to keep in touch. There’s no cell phone reception in the middle of the ocean, and the internet seemed to come and go at will. At least I heard from you two occasionally, but I didn’t hear from Yoongs except on my birthday, and we didn’t… you didn’t come up.” He looks apologetic as he says those last words, and your heart pangs again.

“It’s okay, why would I have?” you snort. “Like I said, it turned out to be a big bunch of nothing between us.” Despite what you thought. What you felt.

A server appears at the table to drop off the bill, and you welcome the interruption, wanting to go home and crawl into the safety of your bed again, feeling like it was a mistake to leave in the first place. Taehyung and Seokjin fight over who is going to pay, with Taehyung winning, practically throwing his card at the server, but you’re too distracted by your thoughts to enjoy the scene.

Texting with Yoongi had turned into late night conversations. Going to concerts and bars to check out new musicians, doing whisky tastings and visiting distilleries. It felt like you were glued at the hip for a few months, and the more you got to know him, the harder you fell. Like the way you fell into his bed, over and over.

But nothing sticks out in your memory more than that last night, the last time you saw him, when you finally found the courage to tell him how you felt. You’ll never forget the sad look on his face. It told you everything you needed to know before he even spoke.

“Buttercup?” Taehyung’s voice pulls you from your reverie. “You ready to go?” He and Seokjin are staring at you, both on their feet already, waiting to leave.

With a nod, you rise, and follow them out into the night.

Despite the name, the Seven Slamurai consists of nine players. (When you asked why, Jimin rolled his eyes and said he’d tried to argue with Hoseok over the moniker, but Hoseok was insistent that the name stay true to his favorite movie.) In addition to Hoseok, Jimin, Seokjin, Taehyung, and yourself, there are four others at your first practice session on Monday night at the rec center - Wooshik, Sunghwan, Seojoon, and Hyungsik. You exchange a few quick greetings with your new teammates before Hoseok gestures for you all to sit on the bleachers.

“Welcome everyone to our first team practice!” Hoseok smiles, clapping, and you lightly clap along until you realize no one else is. “Before we do some warm-ups, I thought I’d take a minute to explain the rules of the game, for those of you who haven’t played before.”

He launches into an overview of the sport. Most of it is familiar from your school days, but there are a few things that are new, like something about a rush, and a neutral zone, and a burden ball? You glance around to see if anyone else looks confused. Most of the new guys wear bored expressions. It’s safe to assume they’re experienced players. To your left, Taehyung is whispering something to Jimin, completely ignoring Hoseok’s spiel.

At least Seokjin, on your right, seems slightly dazed by the long list of rules that Hoseok’s rattling off. Now that you think of it, you’ve never seen Seokjin in any athletic context. As far as you know, he doesn’t play any sports, just like you and Taehyung, and he’s not a gym rat. So you have no idea what to expect from him on the court. Maybe he’ll be just as awkward as you’re expecting to be.

“Any questions?” Hoseok finishes up. There’s a moment of silence from the group, and then he claps his hands. “Okay! Then let’s warm up a little.”

You move from the bleachers to a mat on the floor and Hoseok leads everyone through a series of stretches. It’s been a long time since you’ve done any, so you’re not surprised when your toes remain fully out of your reach. Jimin, on the other hand, has folded himself in half, forehead practically touching the ground as he holds on to both feet. Turning to Seokjin to make a comment, you’re surprised to find him in a similar position.

He catches you looking. “Yoga,” he explains with a wink.

“Damn. Maybe I should start,” you grunt, giving up.

“The games are played with teams of five, which means we’ll have four alternates for each match,” Hoseok explains once everyone’s limbered up. “For today, I’d like us to run through a practice game, four on each side. I’m going to stay out and watch, to help me get a feel for who might be a starter and who might be an alt.”

The group splits in half, with you, Taehyung, Seokjin, and Jimin on one side, and the rest on the other. Hoseok stands at one end of the line in the middle of the court, where six balls lie waiting.

“Okay, ready, set!” And with a sharp blast of the whistle hanging from his neck, Hoseok brings the game to a start.

Immediately, Jimin and Taehyung run forward towards the center line, reaching for a ball each, while the other team mirrors their actions, rushing forward. But you? You freeze in the scramble, hands automatically coming up to shield your head. And as the first balls fly towards your side, you scream.

And so does Seokjin.

“Shit!” you curse as one of the rubber balls bounces off your arm. That’s definitely going to leave a mark.

“Fuck!” Seokjin yelps as he’s smacked in the shoulder by another ball.

Tweet!

The action stops as Hoseok blows his whistle. His sunny smile is gone, replaced by an intense look, eyebrows furrowed, mouth turned down. It’s intimidating, especially since it’s aimed directly at you.

“That was… not bad,” he says slowly through gritted teeth, speaking as though the words hurt him. “But maybe this time, you two should try joining the opening rush? Remember, no one can throw a ball at you as long as you’re in the neutral zone, so you’ll have time to grab and get back out of the line of fire.”

He glances from you to Seokjin, who nods as you grin in embarrasment. Great, you’ve already been identified as a weak player. You were hoping you could at least pretend to know what you were doing for a little while. Fly under the radar.

Taehyung wraps an arm around your waist. “Come on, ladybug, it’s not that scary. You just gotta jump in. Don’t think, just go.”

You shake him off with a scoff. Easy for him to say. You saw the way he was running around the court a minute ago, taking to the chaos like a duck to water. Should’ve known he’d turn out to be a natural athlete on top of all his other annoyingly amazing traits.

The game restarts, and this time you make an attempt to run towards the center line, but still hesitate, flashbacks of being pelted with balls running through your brain. Why did you agree to this? You always hated dodgeball in school!

Seokjin, on the other hand, joins Jimin and Taehyung at the line, and scoops up a ball before dashing back to where you’re frozen. The balls start flying again, and once again you’re out before anyone else. After a few more minutes, Hoseok ends the play.

“That was better!” he nods. “But let’s try it again, and this time maybe you can make it all the way forward, huh, YN?” His tone is encouraging, but his smile seems strained.

As you shuffle back towards the end of the court, you nudge Jimin. “Is Hoseok okay? He looks a little stressed.”

Jimin shoots you a lopsided smile. “He’s trying not to be as… intense… as he usually gets. We got kicked off our last team because he went a little overboard with his, uh, enthusiasm during the practice matches.”

The whistle blows before you’re ready, and you decide to take Taehyung’s advice, so you bolt forward without thinking, snatch up a ball, and then back away, not wanting to turn your back to the men behind you. In doing so, you catch Wooshik’s eye, and he grins coldly, winding up.

“Shit!” you yell, jumping out of the way in time. Taehyung dives in to catch it, sending Wooshik out of the game. But you’re not safe, as Seojoon takes aim next. Seokjin is next to you, trying to decide where to throw the ball in his hand, so you duck behind him, mimicking his movements. Eventually, he realizes he has a shadow.

“Are you using me as a human shield?” He bobs to the left. You follow.

“It’s not my fault you’re so broad!”

Seokjin honks a noisy mix of delighted laughter and insulted exclamation. Seojoon tires of waiting for you to emerge from behind Seokjin, so he pitches the ball forward, a low toss heading for Seokjin’s legs. Seokjin bends gracefully to catch the difficult throw, taking Seojoon out of the game, and as Seokjin doubles over, you snap the ball in your hands towards Hyungsik, hitting him directly in the side. Another ball rolls towards your feet, so you scoop it up and nail Sunghwan dead center of his chest.

And with that triple play, your side wins, with all four players still in.

There’s no whistle to end the game, as Hoseok’s mouth falls open, gawking wide-eyed at you. “She’s a sniper,” he whispers in an awed voice. Everyone turns to stare at you.

“What?” you ask, looking around. “What did I do now?”

According to Jimin, it’s tradition for the dodgeball teams to go out for drinks after practices and matches, so after hitting the locker room, the nine of you meet up at the Pied Piper, a quiet bar around the corner from the rec center. Thank god Taehyung convinced you to bring a change of clothes. You’d foolishly assumed you wouldn’t break a sweat, but you sure as fuck had.

Since the rec center isn’t that big, the practice schedules are staggered out, with only two other teams meeting on Wednesday nights - the Dodging Divas and Rock the Balls. By the time your team arrives at the bar, the others have already claimed most of the tables. As Taehyung and the others push the remaining tables together, Hoseok, Seokjin, and you sidle up to the bar to start ordering drinks.

Once the bartender drifts away to start pulling drafts, Hoseok turns to you with a bright smile. “Congrats, the two of you are definitely going to be starters.”

To say you’re surprised would be an understatement.

“Me? Really?” you squeak, glancing at Seokjin, who also appears dumbfounded. “Why?”

Hoseok leans against the bartop. “Look, I’ve been playing this game for long enough to know a strong arm when I see it,” he declares solemnly, tapping your bicep with two fingers. “I think with my help, you could be one of the best snipers out there. As for you,” he nods at Seokjin, “I think your flexibility is going to come in handy, like it does for Jimin. Also, I saw the way you two were working together on the court. If we can hone your skills, you’ll be an unstoppable duo for sure.” He grins. “The rest of the league won’t know what hit them, when the Seven Slamurai come through.”

The bartender returns with the first three beers of your order, and Hoseok carries them away with another nod, leaving you and Seokjin staring at each other in silence.

Then you both burst into laughter.

“Is he for real?” Seokjin asks, eyebrows raised. The bartender sets more glasses in front of you, and he grabs one, taking a long sip.

“I think so. I got the idea from Jimin that dodgeball means a lot to him, but wow. What he said is absolutely ridiculous, and yet… I do feel oddly inspired.”

“I know what you mean.” Seokjin grins. “Should we correct him, though?”

“About what?”

“Us working as a team. We weren’t working together so much as you were hiding behind me.”

His grin turns teasing, and a retort builds itself on your tongue. But before you can fire it off, a figure at the other end of the bar catches your eye. One of the Rock the Balls gods. Namjoon, maybe? He nods at you, dimple popping as his lips curl into a slight smirk. You blink, then raise one of the glasses of beer in his direction.

Seokjin follows your gaze. “Friend of yours?”

“Not really. One of the other teams’ leaders. We met at the sign up.”

Seokjin hums, giving Namjoon a second look. He taps the bartop while you help yourself to one of the pints. “Hey, so what you were talking about at dinner the other night… about Yoongi? I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

You should’ve known the subject would come back up. With a little shrug, you attempt a grin, but only succeed in a grimace. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“I know. But I’ve also been where you are, having feelings for someone that go unreciprocated, so… I’m sorry. I know it hurts.” He pauses, gaze locked on the glass in his hand. “For what it’s worth, I think he’s a total idiot.”

“I’m not going to argue there,” you quip, letting out an airy laugh. "But I'm the one who imagined the whole thing, so really, I'm not any smarter."

He looks at you then, a sober expression on his face. “I mean it. He’s the idiot. Not you. So just - just don’t let his stupidity have any bearing on how you might think about yourself, okay?”

You blink, wondering if you’ve suddenly gone completely transparent, because he’s seeing right through you. How are you not supposed to take Yoongi’s rejection as proof that you’re unlovable? If you were lovable, then wouldn’t he love you?

“I… okay.” Nodding, you reach for the glasses that have been sitting in front of you for a few minutes. “Um. We should probably get these to the rest of the team before they get antsy.”

Taehyung pats the seat next to him when you return to the group, and Seokjin takes the empty seat on your other side. “Hoseok just told us the good news,” he informs you, happily grabbing one of the beers in your hand.

“What, that Jinnie and I are gonna be starters?”

“That we are gonna be starters! You, me, hyung, Jimin-ah, and Hoseok-ssi.” Taehyung beams brightly as Jimin leans across him at the mention of his name. “He said we’ll work on our teamwork next practice, so we’re ready for our first match next weekend!”

“Oh! Well, damn, look at us go!” You lift your glass and everyone else does the same. “Cheers!”

“To teamwork!” Seokjin adds, eyes crinkling as he clinks his glass against yours. You grin back before taking a big sip. Maybe you��ll survive this season after all.

You’re not going to survive this season.

“Come on! Faster!”

A shrill whistle blast sounds as you hit the wall, spinning around before running back towards the center line. It’s Thursday night, so you’re at practice again. Your team has been running drills for only ten minutes now, but you’re pretty sure you’re going to die, panting terribly as your toe hits the crosses the line.

“Pick it up!” Hoseok yells as you spin again, heading back for the end of the court. As your fingertips reach the wall, he blows the whistle again, and you flatten your palms, pressing your forehead against the cold cement.

“I did not sign up for this,” Seokjin huffs next to you. “I signed up to dodge balls. This is not dodging balls!”

“Are you two okay?” Taehyung is neither panting nor huffing as he eyes you both with concern.

“How are you not dying like us?! You don’t work out!” Yelling takes up too much of your oxygen, and you sink to the ground, legs folding underneath you.

Taehyung shrugs. “It was only a few running drills. Nothing to get worked up over.”

Unable to respond, you settle for giving him the evil eye. You jump as Hoseok’s whistle sounds again.

“If he doesn’t stop it with that thing, I’m gonna make him eat it,” you mutter under your breath. Seokjin’s shoulders shake with silent laughter as he reaches out a hand to pull you to your feet.

Hoseok’s inner drill instructor doesn’t take a break when the practice game starts, alternates on one side, starters on the other. Somehow, he manages to run, catch, throw, and yell instructions the entire time, like a demented multihyphenate. It would be impressive if it weren’t irritating.

You play a total of three rounds against the alternates. The first round is awkward, filled mostly with Hoseok’s manic shouting. At one point, he tells you to cover the right and Taehyung to flank the left, and as the two of you run to switch sides, you run smack into each other. The alternates win.

In the second round, things go better. There are no collisions, but there’s also not much cohesion, either. You try to repeat last practice’s winning move, ducking behind Seokjin, but he’s too unpredictable, jumping all over the place to try to catch throws, and you’re not able to keep from getting hit. Your team loses again.

When the whistle signals the end of the round, you head for the bleachers, where you’ve stashed a bottle of water and a towel, having realized last practice that both items were desperately needed. The rest of your team follows.

“Well, this isn’t working,” Hoseok sighs, fanning himself with his shirt. “They’re kicking our asses.”

“Maybe - and just hear me out - yelling isn’t the way to motivate us?” Jimin suggests, tossing his sweat-soaked hair out of his face. You can practically see little hearts dancing in Taehyung’s eyes as he watches the motion.

Hoseok’s head twists towards his friend, but instead of swearing at him like you expect, he just stares. “I’m. I’m doing it again, aren’t I?”

Jimin claps him lightly on the shoulder. “Yep.”

Hoseok stares for a few more seconds, and you’re on the verge of asking if he’s okay when he finally speaks. “Okay, new plan. Let’s just go out there and, ugh, have fun, okay?” His smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he leads Jimin and Taehyung back out onto the court.

Seokjin leans over. “If we lose, ten bucks says he snaps and eats that whistle himself.”

You laugh, gently pushing Seokjin back onto the court.

“Hey. Should we try that shield thing again?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I mean, I was trying last round, but you were kinda all over the place.”

“I’ll try to be more obvious with my moves. Or I guess you can guide me? Just tell me which way to go.”

You nod, and then you’re off, running for the center line as the round starts. Without Hoseok barking orders at the group, there’s a definite shift in the atmosphere. As you stoop to sweep up a ball, quickly diving behind Seokjin’s tall frame, scoping out your next target, it hits you - not a ball, but a thought.

You’re having fun.

Grinning wildly, you hiss “Left!” Seokjin immediately darts left, and you line up behind him, ready and waiting. A throw from the other team goes high, and Seokjin leaps towards it, snagging the ball out of the air. As soon as you peek out from around his side, you hit Wooshik, ball bouncing off his thigh with a satisfyingly loud “thock!”

“Yes!” Seokjin throws his hand out for a high five. You slap it quickly, ducking another toss. On your other side, Hoseok and Jimin make tandem catches, and the match ends with your team victorious.

“That was so much better! I really feel like we’re an actual team now,” Hoseok beams, looking genuinely happy again. “One more week of practice and then it’s match time!”

The others drift towards the locker rooms as Seokjin nudges you with his hip. “Did that work better for you this time?”

“Yeah, it did. I guess that’s how it should always work, huh - me giving you orders and you following them blindly?” You wrap your towel around your neck, flashing him a cheeky grin.

Seokjin laughs, running his hand through his fluffy hair, which has gotten curly in the humidity from the game. Rather than spout off a snarky retort, he tugs on the ends of your towel, pulling you towards him. His deep brown eyes trail over your face, landing on your mouth, before his gaze snaps back to yours.

“That works for me,” he murmurs, soft smile playing on his plush lips. “Just say the word and I’ll follow.”

And then he walks away.

You stare at the locker room doorway that he disappears into for a good minute after he’s gone, mind racing. That’s not the first time the two of you have been that close - both Seokjin and his brother are very cuddly people, and you’ve always been comfortable with showing them affection in the form of warm hugs or snuggles on the couch.

But whatever just happened was not that. The moment between you felt charged. Full of something like… possibility.

With a sigh, you shake off the confusing thoughts and gather your things to head for the locker room, desperately needing a shower. And a drink.

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