#not to be like this AGAIN but the pandemic severely fucked w me

[minglana]

on the one side i think its good that i dont stress myself out too much for exams, especially if i fail. on the other hand, maybe ive normalized failing exams a bit too much, personally.

[scribhneoirtuirseach]

(The human condition is a strange one.)

a Hankcon sickfic (also on AO3)

featuring: Hank Anderson, Connor

wordcount: 495

my other DBH fics!

"Leave me to die, Con, every faulty human for himself…"

Connor rolls his eyes at Hank's dramatics, something he's long since grown used to at this point, as he sets a drink and some snacks on the nightstand.

"You can't get me sick!" He chirps, crawling into bed despite the man's groans and complaints. "Come on~ I'll heal you up in no time, trust me."

Huffing, Hank hesitantly hauls heavy arms around the android, dojng his best to silence a sigh of relief at the contact and warmth that he provides. A living heater, he swears, that Thirium runs hot. Actually, come to think of it, Connor can probably control his temperature…

Which only makes him saltier about the times the bastard has shoved cold hands down his shirt.

"How are you feeling?" Connor asks softly, brushing that silver and grey hair from his partner's face. Greasy; He'll have to wash it for him soon. He's sweaty too… Might as well make it a bath. He's pinning that idea in his head for later.

"Stuffy as shit, too damn cold…" Hank grumbles, resting his forehead against Connor's. "Not distracting you from your precious errands, am I?"

"I always have time for you, Hank." He scolds, hands settling on either side of the man's face so he can subtly wipe away some sweat with his thumbs.

Agh, he needs to turn off his scanners one of these days.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson,

53, Male,

W: 209lbs, H: 6.3ft—

A sudden loud noise has Connor startled out of his calm analysis, jolting enough to fall backwards out of the bed.

The noise comes again when Connor manages to sit himself up, LED flipping between a frantic mix of yellow and red as he stares up to a laughing Hank.

"What was—"

"I fucking sneezed, Connor, that's all!"

Blinking, he seems almost fascinated by the confession, before his brows knit together.

"Humans aren't meant to sound like elephants when they sneeze, Lieutenant! You may have severe back issues!"

"God, who doesn't?" Hank snorts, rolling to lay on his back. "Come on, get your ass back up here, sentient hot water bottle…"

"You could just call me hot."

"I hate you, you know that?"

Climbing back onto the bed, Connor smiles down at the man. "And I hate you for sneezing in my face. How did you survive a pandemic?"

That earns another chuckle as Hank drags the man back down for cuddles. "Fuckin' miracle humans still exist after that shit show…"

"Life, uh… finds a way." The android parrots, grinning at the hair ruffle it gets him.

"Hey, speakin' of bad backs," Hank hums, brows raising as he traces a finger along Connor's arm in an attempt to be so smooth and cool. "How 'bout a massage?"

"Now you're pushing your luck!" Connor laughs, head shaking. "Maybe— But only when you're better, so you can enjoy it properly."

And hell, Hank knows better than to argue with that.

[transrightsjimin]

yeah my thoughts summed up.

the way so many dumbfucks somehow concluded that the massive amount of worldwide labour shortages since this pandemic started, are due to "people not wanting to work anymore" is mindblowing. you absolute fucking IDIOT?? there are millions upon millions of people with Long Covid, consecutive other illnesses and disabilities, or are dead. i hate work too but how do you conclude that people just happen to simultaneously quit their jobs for fun en masse as if that's even financially possible to do.

we're still in a fucking pandemic and it's only easier to get infected now than before.

the way covid-19 and migitation strategies are rarely even being named by leftists is infuriating. do you know how fucked up it is i had to follow more liberals for info on the pandemic bc way too few so-called leftists stopped caring ab covid within a few months?

and don't get me started on this shithole the Netherlands bc the lack of safety measures and the amount of disinformation has from the start been worse than the most conservative US states, or Alberta in Canada, which i saw often being brought up. i'll never be over when a lot of people from the arts and culture field protested en masse in 2020 against covid measures.

we were told here by our lovely supposedly "expert" (anti-mask and anti-vax) healthcare policy advisors that getting infected is good, especially for kids, that we can't get covid when sitting on a CHAIR, that xyz things without any measures is safe, that you are immune if you got it in the past, that masks don't work, and that if they do it's not the FFP2 (N95) ones somehow.

RIVM kept changing the standards for what are 'safe' levels even though it would've been code red or black if non-adjusted. also various hospitals were forbidden from using face masks and since over a year (for future readers: it's may 2023 rn), infected staff was allowed to work. i was actually jealous in some ways of the US bc i read how medical professionals and shop staff etc actually asked people to keep their mask ON. i've only been asked or pressured by therapists, doctors, nurses, etc to take my mask OFF and they even got pissed bc i asked them to wear one.

also if i get infected i'm really screwed bc there is no paxlovid and there are no long covid clinics in the country. they plan on opening only ONE next year, while in germany there's dozens with each still 9 months of waiting lists bc the demand is high.

my immunocompromised and disabled mom doesn't fucking get it even though she clearly got covid several times with horrible lasting side effects, and my sad doesn't fucking get how testing works and they both believe they're always being safe even though they dont wear masks or she does but takes it off inside somehow.

i went off topic but im just fucking TIRED of how few fucking leftists and people as a whole actually give a fuck abt the pandemic. there is still a 1/5-1/10 chance of getting Long Covid with every infection and there are whole generations growing up with more disability and death than before. you can't fucking go anywhere safely bc ventilation and masking wasn't made a common thing to demand. me and others who advocate for safety measures are being painted off by other leftists as delusional or as liberals or even as "calvinist" which is hilariously false bc my country's culture is the prime example of that and does absolutely nothing ab the pandemic. like YEAH i would love to go to more protests again but it's just not fucking safe with public transport and huge crowds and no one masking up. you can say all you want ab eugenics and capitalism and whatnot but if you don't wear masks and pretend the pandemic is over (strange also bc you know governments ignore every other crisis) and just want the disabled ppl who do stay aware, to stay inside and rot while you can keep making society more unsafe, you're part of the problem.

god and same w LGBT activism. i don't fucking care what you say, if you're anti-mask and carelessly contribute to maskless superspreader events and don't include disabled people, you are just as uncaring as people were about the AIDS crisis.

i'll end my rant here. feel free to share but if anyone argues back youre getting blocked. im fucking tired and i don't know who to trust anymore besides like 3 friends and a few kpop fan mutuals online who also still care ab the pandemic.

[coralsgrimes]

So I’m honestly asking because I have no clue what you are referring to. Why do you hate Ben Barnes so much? You seem to keep referring to things he did but you didn’t say what. I’m confused but I really have no idea what these bad things are and would like to find out.

Ye really do make me typing like a madman today lol

Said it a million times and I don't hate Benny Boy. Imma just disappointed and also hate is a strong word and I neither have the time nor am I 12 to hate someone online lol

I don't say what he was fucking up cuz this blog is mostly our own lil pond and I generally assume that everyone swimming here should know by now x.x also I've been repeating myself over and over about all of this shite. Scroll waaaay down lol

But since I'm typing...

So the thingies that I personally find to be hurtful, the fangirls been putting a flaming sword up me ass when I mention them. Can ye believe???

The first thing is obvi the half naked photoshoot in a pool, with a minor! which he called romantic! done by a photographer who he called his friend and who also photographed Sofia Richie aged 14/15 like she was a on a cover of the hustler.

Then we have his ongoing association, PUBLIC ASSOCIATION, with a circle of friends that includes scientologist, racists, sex pests, people protecting and vouching for the sex pests some of them currently on trial, also women who engage in victim blaming publicly, and not so surprisingly a cult leader wannabes are in that crowd as well. And again, this are not some fandom connect the dots allegations. This is all a open public we been friends for years said out loud.

And the next thing, that me thinks had broken the Benny spell completely, was his 'crisis in Ukraine' insta post from last April (featuring choose love... cuz why not). The obvious months wait for a fucking t-shirt to arrive, sunny day happy photoshoot and advertisement friendly language so that instagram won't cut his visibility so everyone could see what a great chap he is! The bare minimum, the bad taste, the quick edit of the post after he been called out and obvi the radio silence since.

Oh coral but it's not like he the worst person in the fucking world. Like no he's not but the picture he tries to paint of himself is cracking and showing how fucking fake it is... No surprise tho he a celebrity and british after all x.x

In other thingies, he obvi a bestie with Jules who i have personal beef with completely outside of Benny.

Speaking of her, the very possible possibility that he been having an affair with a married woman is kind of wow okay something if ye ask me. Then we have his music which should be classified as a dangerous especially for aquatic life (🪸), young and elderly and everyone else.

Yesh I know celebs are fake but he is just... The fakest at this point?? Like so obviously fake without a drop of genuine intentions, just doing this to secure his cushy life.

Oh and while we still at around twin flames orbit. The pandemic... Stay home be a good boy, but not me!! I am Benjamin Barnes and I shall do the opposite and then gaslight gatekeep...

I can go into/list more irks honestly but that's just ye know being petty and cherry picking kind of. Ye know I say I hate his look at me imma an activist reposts but other peeps are glad he 'spoken out' about the issue. Then there are his fandom games and basically begging his fangirls to baby him like when he's called out... He can't take responsibility for anything (pandemic travel anyone??) and he won't take direct and decisive stand on anything ever (not even saying world issues, I mean his so called FEMALE friends that needed strong public support but he stayed silent) cuz as long as he is bland and pleases everyone he is cool he is safe.

And at the end of the day what he does is he covers up, avoids and baits with something else hoping that the air clears. Here we should look at his 'brother' Chris D'Elia. He was sniffing around him at a time he was assaulting several women, Benny at the same time was dating a wannabe model in her early 20s... Allegations about D'Elia circled around for years but no one dared to speak loudly cuz he was SOMEONE. Then shit hits the fan and what our dear boy Benny does??? He, with a speed of a lightning, deletes covers up blocks gets rid off any obvious connection to his so called brother. Case closed.

Also like his enormous ego and the obsession to cover up his private life like crazy, that kinda sus and not healthy I want a private life but again it's just me lol

Would link me old posts but I'm on the mobile app and it's like so hard to find all that shite. There are more details in them old posts if ye as interested. But this is the crash course into Benny Boy by Coral lol

[troglobite]

lasdjfklsdj

stupid fucking rant probably short bc i'm tired and really impatient rn

okay see here's the fucking thing

i have MCAS and EDS and i'm allergic to everything in the known fucking universe

and here i am using these sustainable all-natural hair products that, again, REALLY WORK. THEY WORK REALLY WELL!!!!!

and they were slowly killing me

bumps all down my back from when i rinse it out which FUCK ME definitely means i'm allergic to the fucking conditioner fucking GODDAMNIT

and fevers for fucking 2 weeks

~all natural, sustainable, vegan, clean ingredients~

cool, great

they were actively killing me

meanwhile fucking "chemical-filled" shampoos w not a single "natural" ingredient among them? all good. been good for 15 fucking years.

like this is my problem.

i've been seeing shit (from anti-diet and body lib/fat activist ppl i follow) on instagram abt all this "ultra-processed" food bullshit, abt how they're apparently killing us

WHAT ARE MY OTHER OPTIONS, DUDE!?

you want me to go vegan?!

EVERY ALTERNATIVE IS SOMETHING I'M ALLERGIC TO OR THAT WOULD OTHERWISE DESTROY MY BODY. BELIEVE ME. I'VE TRIED.

you literally don't wanna know what happens when i eat leafy greens too often! AND I STILL EAT THEM! BC MY BODY WANTS A FRUIT OR VEGGIE OR SOMETHING! and even when i give it to my body, it goes "holy fucking shit what the FUCK am i supposed to do with this???"

IDFK MAN YOU FUCKING ASKED TO HAVE IT!!!!!

you want me to go vegetarian? SEE ABOVE!!!!

all of that shit abt finding alternative protein sources--I. AM. FUCKING. ALLERGIC. TO. ALL OF THEM.

i would DIE on a vegan or vegetarian diet!

you want me to go without ANY ultraprocessed food????

OKAY. WHAT'S LEFT? WHAT DO I EAT?

GIVEN I JUST TOLD YOU I'M ALLERGIC TO FUCKING EVERYTHING WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO EAT?!

ultra-processed foods aren't killing us.

the unnecessary and knowingly dangerous specific and useless additives that we still haven't outlawed in the US are what's killing us

actually, it's fucking capitalism and white cishetero supremacy that's killing us, but who am i to say, right? it's definitely people eating fucking french fries.

shut the fuck up die and rot in hell i hate all of you

i swear to FUCKING GOD

if you, after reading this, sincerely tell someone any advice that would personally make me want to kill you on sight, i hope you fucking walk on legos and have something in your eye for the rest of your fucking life. and that's me going easy on you. FUCK YOU.

i'm just so angry.

and what really hurts is in the back of my head i can just hear eugenicist motherfuckers being like

"well if you're allergic to all this stuff and you can't safely survive off of that, maybe you should just die. that's what would've happened without all this stuff."

yeah.

it is.

i would've died in any other era bc of how much my body Cannot Tolerate simply being alive, sometimes.

but people with "better health" than me made all of these "chemicals" and other things to make food shelf stable. to make it have more nutrients. to make it processed and easier to digest. to make it safer in general.

and so i can live.

but now you're telling me i'm not allowed to.

plain and simple that shit is eugenics.

and as i grapple with becoming more and more disabled during a global pandemic that ppl are ignoring bc they're too stupid and shitty to give a single fuck about other people or the well being of LITERALLY ANYONE

i have no patience for it.

it's maddening.

i have TRIED eating more veggies and fruits.

unprocessed, they HURT me. in so many ways.

you want me to eat them?

fine. give me heavy duty antihistamines and several digestive enzyme supplements. i might be able to get something out of eating those foods, then.

oh but you think supplements are evil and bad inherently?

okay then i can't eat any of them without being laid up in bed for 10 hours from horrible nausea, burping, and cramps.

does that sound like HEALTH to you?

i'm so tired.

i had a fucking PA trainee once tell me that frozen veggies aren't as good as fresh

frozen veggies: have a higher chance of being digested by my body and won't go bad so that they can sit there for weeks while i grapple w my daily changing health and well-being

fresh veggies: trigger all of my illness and contamination OCD while being harder for me to cook and digest thus making me feel sick for hours or days at a time and will go bad within a few days so i have a tiny window within which to Feel Normal Enough to try eating them

i'm just fucking TIRED of people telling me what to do with my body

and this all started just because these hair products that i was REALLY EXCITED ABOUT!!! THAT WORK REALLY WELL!!! THAT MADE ME FEEL GOOD ABOUT MYSELF!!!!

i can't use them because i'm fucking allergic.

i can't even have NICE things to feel GOOD about myself. nothing as "simple" as fucking conditioner. i can't have it. i'm not allowed.

and you think i can just change my diet on a fucking whim and make it easy?

THIS SHIT WASN'T EVEN GOING INSIDE MY BODY AND IT GAVE ME TWO WEEKS OF ACTUAL FUCKING FEVERS

my skin has been on and off super sensitive to touch and extremely irritated

there are bumps all up and down my back

i've been getting tiny blood blisters--nothing that irritates/breaks the skin, they're so small anyone else would miss them

i've been woozy and irritable

my pelvis has been hurting in really weird ways

my digestion has been on the fucking fritz--after going back to normal after a long bout of Bullshit that threw me out of whack bc of intense stress and anxiety.

that's what happens when i get fevers.

and that is from shit that wasn't even inside my fucking body.

you think that FOOD is EASIER for me to change and experiment with?

it's just infuriating and i'm tired.

ultra-processed foods exist for a million fucking reasons

our ultra-processed foods are not killing us (but also please for the love of god outlaw the same shit the EU has in the USA i'm so fucking done of finding food dye that is known to hurt us in food that it doesn't need to be in)

capitalism et al. are killing us

but also?

fresh/unprocessed foods are killing me

oh no you want me to eat unprocessed foods?

does dairy count as unprocessed? that seems like A Process to make cheese and yogurt.

how about meat? lunch meat or steaks or chicken. does that work for you? or are you gonna fucking get on your goddamn high horse and morally shame me for literally being unable to survive without eating this stuff?

this is a strawman i'm creating, an amalgamation of REAL shit that i've seen all over the place or encountered/been told personally, to my face.

i'm just tired.

there's no pleasing anybody

and then on top of that

i can't even please myself or be comfortable or happy

and i'm putting off all this medical shit that i have to do because it's TERRIFYING and STRESSFUL and we have OTHER STUFF GOING ON that i'd rather be fucking doing!!!!

but also bc--if i really do have an autoimmune disorder (almost guaranteed), then what. like the only treatment for it is suppressing my immune system as far as i know.

so now, someone w illness and contamination based OCD that makes ALL medical stuff TERRIFYING, has to go through life extremely fucking vulnerable to illness and this is all happening DURING A GLOBAL PANDEMIC WHERE NOBODY IS BEING FUCKING RESPONSIBLE WITH MASKING?!

i don't want to do this.

i'm angry i'm tired i want to die, honestly. sometimes i just want to give up.

bc even if things aren't bad now, i can see how they'll just get so much worse.

i spiral bc my life is so fucking vacant and empty.

i had new hair products! i felt GOOD about myself and my hair! it was looking amazing! and it was HOLDING SHAPE!!! IT NEVER HAS, BEFORE!!!!

and now i don't get to have that.

stupid beck. you thought you could enjoy life? you thought you could have something simple and nice in your life to feel good about yourself? fuck you.

so why don't i try new things? bc they always end up hurting me or sucking or being taken away by capitalism (discontinued products) or something else.

shit just doesn't work out.

why don't i go and try and date or make friends?

bc why fucking bother.

what is the FUCKING point.

finding ANYONE on the same page as me who i also actually just like as a person who wouldn't hate me on sight? basically impossible.

i'm tired i'm tired i'm tired i'm fucking tired

and then i try and do nice things for my 'friends' in the dnd game i'm running and i make stuff i'm excited abt and i'm just getting. really not very clear at all feedback.

and i'm just.

tired.

i'm tired. what's the fucking point of anything?

[korradoras]

TOP SHIPS OF ALL TIME:

this is in no order but it will be numbered for my sanity.

1. slexie - mark and lexie/greys anatomy

• i am so attached to this ship, i have never sobbed so hard an my life than when i first watched the season 8 finale/season 9 premiere of greys anatomy. i still rewatch only their seasons quite often.

2. catradora - catra and adora/SPOP

• ultimate comfort ship, i rewatch she ra whenever i am going through it. i first watched it when i was 15 and i still watch it for comfort. 15 is a nostalgic age for me, she ra reminds me of what it was like before anxiety. 😩

3. korrasami - korra and asami/LOK

• another comfort ship, comfort show, etc. lok and avatar are more shows i watched when i was 15, when the pandemic hit i was almost 16. i was locked up in my room, no school, no going out, no friends. i had a basement room with a couch and a huge tv, i spent MANY weeks watching netflix on that couch and the feeling was immaculate. i rewatch the atlau shows VERY often.

4. bellarke - bellamy and clarke/the 100

• once again another comfort show, i rewatch the 100 annually and have been watching it since season 4 came out. my dad started watching it, then my mom, then my sister. it became a show we watched all together, and i had a little ritual when it came to new seasons. i am an impatient person in some ways more than others, i do not have the patience to maintain interest when watching episodes weekly but i have no issue waiting for the whole season to be out. so every year as the episodes came out, i ignored them. when they all hit netflix, i would binge. however, for season 7 of the 100 i waited 2 years. i think i was procrastinating letting it end. bellarke was THE slowburn. i was so sure they would end up together, in a way im glad they didn't, but i loved them so much. i cannot describe the way that i feel when watching them and this show.

5. clexa - clarke and lexa/the 100

• GAY SLOWBURN. y'all i have so many fics i read consistently about clexa. i have like 3 on shuffle that i've read 10 times minimum. i cry like a bitch every time i rewatch s2-3 of the 100.

6. avatrice - ava and beatrice/warrior nun

• so i had heard a lot and seen a lot about this show before i actually watched it, which was actually in january of this year, several months after the 2nd (and final 🥲) season came out. i QUICKLY fell in love w both avatrice and ava/beatrice as individuals. i also read a lot of avatrice fics and cry thinking abt it being cancelled 😭

7. stydia - stiles and lydia/teen wolf

• BEST SLOWBURN OF ALL TIMEEE. it's weird to think teen wolf ended SIX years ago, this is another show i rewatch annually and what's funny is when i was 12 watching this show i did not care for stydia. i liked scott's relationships with allison and kira, never paid much attention to stiles and lydia until i was 16/17 and i rewatched and realized that they are AMAZING.

8. sameena - sam and deena/fear street

• MORE ANNUAL REWATCH SERIES. i LOVE LOVE LOVE these movies, and when i say sam and deena i am also including sarah and hannah. ex's/enemies to lovers in HORROR? forbidden love? sapphics? say less.

9. glaggie - glenn and maggie/twd

• so this was my first ship ever. started watching this when i was 11, i watched it over and over and over, i read the first 3 compendiums of the comics, then season 7 rolled around, i watched three first episode live then never watched another episode last season 6 again.

10. delena - damon and elena/tvd

• honestly they sort of give me the ick now but 12 year old me ATE that shit up, would also like to add they were my sexual awakening. i remember watching one of their spicy scenes and feeling a little funny 🥴

11. wayhaught - waverly and nicole/wynonna earp

• hottest ship ever. i fucking love them and i still need to watch the most reason season which is not that recent.

12. (honorable mention) camren - camila and lauren/5h

• camren gets only an honorable mention bc i don't ship them anymore, but they were MY gay awakening. when i was 13 i discovered fifth harmony and, naturally, i discovered ✨camren fanfiction✨ i literally did not know i was gay until i started reading fics about them. it just clicked when i felt more reading than i ever had for real life boys. :) anyways i don't support shipping real people anymore at my ripe age of 18.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

tuxedo iv, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, mentions of previous jungkook x reader

summary: Your life? Oh, it’s normal. Your cat turned into a man yesterday and you just now humped his leg to orgasm. Sorry, what? That’s not normal? O-Of course, it is! It’s like... having a roommate! You argue because you recorded him without his consent. You eat noodles that he’s trying not to bat at all meal. There are skeletons in your closet. Your fingers get stuck in a Chinese finger trap and then you get fingered. Totally normal, by the way!

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, mentions of the coronavirus pandemic; possibly full-on crack; Yoongi LOVES his box; smut (fem reader, mild restraint, penetrative sex, forced orgasms, intentional voyeurism (tsk tsk, Shooky), fingering); domestic and soft moments with your cat-man; non-idol!AU - cat!Yoongi x human!reader; ft shy boy Jeon Jungkook (gasp!!!) POV and bestfriend!Kim Seokjin POV; breaking of the fourth wall; you ARE a furry, oh well

yes, I reference Jin’s iconic Billboard interview answer, The Lion King (1994), Yoongi’s BTS café cereal milkshake, Bill Nye the Science Guy, PENTAGON’s ‘DO or NOT’ / ‘Shine’ / ‘Humph!”, “you got no jams”, The Addams Family (1991) – also there’s a bit of a meme scavenger hunt, I reference too many to list XD

–

part i | part ii | part iii

-

So.

You kinda.

Humped your cat-man’s thigh to orgasm.

You animal.

“Ah… Yoongi,” you started as your cat… man tilted his head, blinking slowly. Unnerving. Why was he staring like that? It reminded you of his previous cat self, where Shooky would watch you with his minty-green eyes, cat face expressionless, whiskers unmoving. What were cats thinking about all the time anyway?

Better yet, what the fuck was Min Yoongi thinking?

You knew what you were thinking. You were thinking that you couldn’t stare at you cum stain on his pink silk pajama leg all day, because that was a master yikes. He had tons of clothes still piled next to the front door of your apartment. All you had to do was convince him to change his outfit. Simple. Easy. Don’t make this weird. Be casual. Be cool as a cucumber. Chill out.

“Um… You should… take off the pajamas… so I can wash them… there are still more clothes you need to try on from the order, right…?”

Your dignity threw up their hands. Why do I even bother being here? I get ignored, the brain in here is smoother than KY Jelly on glass, and you would know, wouldn’t you, you–

“Take them off for me.”

“… P… Pardon?”

“I’m joking.”

He raised an eyebrow, glancing down at your raised hands. You abruptly dropped them, shoving them behind your back. When did that happen? Why did you make grabby hands like that? Surely not because you were expecting anything, right? Definitely not. Not you.

You need help. 

Yoongi turned around, black fur tall swishing, the back of his pink silk pants half-lowered. Your jaw went slack, only to forcefully shut back into place as you realized he was still wearing his black boxer briefs since you had spent yesterday sewing tail holes in his convenience store underwear. Of course, he was still wearing them. There was no reason to take them off.

What, did you want to look at his booty again or something?

(Yes.)

He went through the doorframe of your bedroom without saying a word. 

Hold on a second.

Did Yoongi let you ride his thigh to orgasm, be sweet to you for two seconds, only to fucking bounce without a peep of acknowledgment? Just fucking yeet? Act like that was totally ordinary behavior and saunter off?

Say sike right now.

A millisecond of bravery shot through you and you bolted out of your chair, your desk rattling with your sudden action.

"Yoongi–!"

You nearly collided into him. You weren’t expecting him to be facing you and you yelped in surprise, skidding on your heels. His hands stopped your hips, freezing you in place so you didn't barrel headfirst into his chest. You flailed about, struggling to regain your balance. All this happening while he continued giving you that deadpan stare. Did anything faze this (cat) man? Shit, you were too close to his face. So close you could feel his breath on your nose. 

"You should change too."

Brain malfunctioning at the softness of his tone.

"... W-What?"

Then your neck, ears, face, even your past and future self, the whole timeline became hotter than a supernova, brain erupting into nuclear fusion as Yoongi's deft fingers slid up to the waistband of your leggings, hooking underneath, stroking your skin. He leaned forward, dark eyes out of your vision, chin hovering above your shoulder. 

"Urk?!"

He started pushing your leggings down. 

He started.

Pushing.

Them. 

DOWN!!!

"You can't stay like this all day, right?" Yoongi murmured gently, voice so deep it was resonating in your empty brain, completely clear of all thoughts except those cool fingers pushing your black leggings down, the skintight fabric catching your soaked panties and taking those on the path to hell too, which was probably where you were headed at the rate this was going. "It would be a good idea to change clothes, I think."

You think, Yoongi?

Not you. 

You don't have think. 

A shrill barrage of low meowing cut through the silence.

Your phone was ringing violently in your room. Yoongi paused, backing up with a frown.

"Why is your ringtone a cat chattering?" he asked, tilting his head quizzically. The continuing sonata of cat chitters escalated before his dark eyes narrowed in recognition. He glared at you and pulled his hands away from your hips, snapping you out of your daze.

"You recorded me?"

"What, what, what?" You blinked rapidly, hearing the familiar sharp chirps and barks of Shooky the cat yelling at birds outside the window. "Oh! Well, yeah... it was funny," you explained weakly, trying to shake out the fog of your horny brain. 

"There's nothing funny about trespassers," Yoongi hissed, turning his heel and swiftly marching away. 

"Trespassers?" you echoed, blinking in confusion. That’s why he yelled at them as a cat? Did he think he owned all the land the sun touches or something? The sound was getting louder and louder, indicating the call was about to be missed. No time to think about it. You rushed back into your room, nearly half tripping with your leggings only partway on your ass, scrambling to answer your phone. There was an uncomfortable squish between your legs. Yikes. You did need to change. 

"Hello? Oh, yes, the video? I'm putting it in the Dropbox right now," you babbled, clicking out of a bizarre pop-up ad with some brown-haired guy in a sienna floral shirt and a boxy smile before placing the exported video in the shared Dropbox folder. 

"Sorry, yeah, I know I usually have it done earlier. It's been a weird couple of days..."

-

Kim Seokjin was furious. 

Furious! 

His best friend ignored his face. His beautiful face! How could she! He fumed, deciding to instead spend his time wisely, as he always did.

He stared at his reflection and nodded, stroking his chin. Yes. A true winner. Look at that brilliant smile. Perfect. He looked great today, as he did every day. Seokjin looked away from the mirror on his desk and went back to his MapleStory life.

-

After a quick change and final edits of the completed video sent off to the client, you left your room to find that Yoongi had stacked his new clothes on the coffee table. The brown cardboard box was on the sofa with him (???), as if it was a human being instead of an ordinary box. He had neatly folded the plastic packaging and placed it on the kitchen counter so you could sort it into the correct recycling. 

"Oh... thanks."

He was now wearing a white t-shirt and black pants that actually seemed like they fit, the back of said pants halfway down his butt to accommodate for his tail. He was watching that historical drama; eyes glued the television. The dark brown orbs were hidden by his curtain of black hair. His pointed black ears were turned away from your direction, as if he had no desire to listen to anything you had to say.

As usual.

Yoongi's response was grunting disapprovingly at you. 

You sighed, feeling a little guilty.

"To be fair, I couldn't really ask your consent when you were a cat."

Your cat-man appeared to be out of fucks to give. "You should do laundry," he huffed gruffly. 

You scooted away awkwardly. "Er... yeah. Let me order some delivery for lunch first..."

-

"Yoongi."

"What?"

"What are you doing?"

He stared at his chopsticks, holding them up high. 

"Hmm..."

His pink lips twisted, narrowing his eyes. The fingers in his other hand twitched. He had been staring at the noodles in his ramen for the past five minutes. They were probably cold now. You were getting a bit worried that he didn't like carbs or something. But then you realized that wasn't the case.

His fingers twitched again. 

"They're noodles. Not string."

Yoongi didn't reply, itching to bat at the long noodles. 

"Just put them in your mouth."

He gave you this look. As if to tell you, you don't usually say that. Usually someone else tells you that. 

You thinned your mouth into a line. 

"I know you're admiring the skinny legend that is noodles, but, yes, they're edible. Need I remind you that you used to eat string and I had to pull it out of your mouth when you choked on it?"

Yoongi scowled. Apparently, he did not like being reminded. It wasn’t that pleasant for you to remember either. At least you never had to wait until it passed through his body and never had to pull it out of the other end (ew). He peered them for several more seconds before putting them in his mouth. You noticed his ears perked up as he ate. 

"You like them?" you asked.

He hummed, not looking at you. Was Yoongi still angry about the recording thing? You weren't changing your ringtone regardless of his dissatisfaction. It was cute. You liked it. And he was being a drama queen, acting all catty.

Hold on. 

He was a cat. 

(Man.)

-

"What is this?"

"Dessert."

You took a sip and choked a little at the grainy taste. 

"Is that cereal?"

"Yeah. It's too hard. Better this way."

You gawked at him, holding the weird cereal milkshake with one hand and his half-sewn pants in the other. Was Yoongi being serious or fucking with you? You couldn't tell. His expression was completely neutral. His cat ears were straight up, trained in your direction, judging your reaction. He lifted his free hand and dropped a handful of rice crisps on the top of the thick white drink.

Well. 

Not your preferred thick white drink. 

(You nasty.)

He nodded sagely and sat down beside you. 

"Show me how to sew."

-

We interrupt your regularly scheduled program for you to, please, consider the following. 

See, by all recommendations of building healthy relationships, you should have been a responsible human being and had a serious, but necessary, conversation with your (new?) cat-man. 

Hey, Yoongi, I find you quite physically attractive and we had that moment in my bedroom, so maybe there's some chemistry and, oh, I don't know, maybe you could stick that prefect looking dick inside me because I've been thinking about it nonstop since (checking watch) the literal second I realized it existed, not to be too forward or anything, you know?

That kind of speech could get you a quick restraining order in most cases, but this was your cat (man) who had lived with you – maybe against his will but, then again, he got fed regularly and when you were previously a stray you can’t complain.

So. 

Do or not?

Hmm...

You could have admitted these things, but, alas, this was not the way. No, the way was to remain an absolute fucking mess every time Yoongi leaned over your shoulder to inspect your needlework, nearly stabbing yourself in the finger, your heart leaping your throat, strangling yourself with anxiety. 

Fun!

Could everything be quickly solved by telling the truth?

Debatable. Yoongi didn’t seem like the kind of (cat) man to give you a straight answer. Not because he couldn’t. Mostly because he seemed to enjoy watching you struggle. Were you picking up on that? 

No. You were too busy thinking about dick. 

His dick. 

Honestly, don't know if you should laugh or cry right now. 

-

Jeon Jungkook flipped his phone around and around in his hand, scrunching up his face.

Should he say something?

Yes. No. Yes? No. Yes… No, no, no.

He sighed and threw his phone onto his bed.

He missed and it slid off, hitting the floor. 

That was a bad sign.

“Shit.”

He dived onto the bed, scabbing around on the hardwood to pick up the fallen device. Ah, how come he was thinking about this now? He knew why. He had watched a funny cat video of a tuxedo cat and it reminded him of a certain naughty little fluffball always following around a certain owner. Jungkook hadn’t contacted said owner in nearly a year. Wouldn’t it look bad if he said anything now? But he couldn’t not think about it either. That smile was on his mind all the time now. That feeling from back then, floating around in his head. He sighed again, followed by inhaling with his upper teeth pressed against his inner lower lip, creating a loud sucking sound that no one else could hear because he lived alone.

Alone.

Jungkook lifted his phone, dying sunlight reflecting off the screen, a shine that blinded him for a short moment. He clicked his tongue, squinting as he spied the number still on the screen.

“Ah, why am I always a loser in front of love?”

He wasn’t really saying it to anyone in particular. No one could reply to him anyway.

He tossed the phone carelessly on the pillow and it slid behind it, falling in between the mattress and the bedframe.

“Shit!”

Jungkook spent five minutes fishing his phone out of the narrow crevice before firmly placing it on the bed beside him, pointing at it angrily, glaring at it.

“No! Bad.”

The phone did nothing. It was not sentiment.

Humph! He let out a frustrated puff of breath and flopped down on the bed.

His phone flew up from the force of his flop and smacked him in the nuts.

“SHIT!”

-

“Huh, you pick up things so fast. So meticulous.”

You watched as Yoongi brought the needle through the fabric in slow but clean strokes, following your previous demonstration. For someone who only had opposable thumbs for less than two days, he was surprisingly dexterous. Seemed like he could do a lot with his hands. No. Stop that. Stop being weird.

“Are you a genius?”

Yoongi didn’t hesitate, not looking up.

“Of course.”

You regretted asking. He continued, oblivious to your annoyed expression.

“I’m a cat.”

“All cats are geniuses?” you retorted disbelievingly.

“Most of them are.” His eyes flickered to you, eyebrows raising. “Compared to humans anyway.”

Was this a dig at you and your missing brain cells after running into things chasing after him and your brain exploding at his hotness? Which he wasn’t, by the way. Yeah, that’s right. Take that, Min Yoongi! You’re being mean, so therefore your attractiveness points are going down in this brain, yes, they are and there’s nothing you can do about it, yup, absolutely NOTHING–

He held up the pants, showing off his handiwork.

“Did I do a good job?”

His voice was soft, unsure, head slightly tilted, velvety ears eagerly perked to listen to your response.

Oh no.

Oh nooo.

Oh nooooooo.

He’s cute.

“Yeah. That looks amazing, Yoongi,” you heard yourself saying, smiling at him.

His fair-skinned cheeks flushed pink, lowering the pants quickly to snip the excess thread off, placing the needle in the cat-shaped pincushion like you had done earlier so he could carefully tie a knot to seal his hard work.

Shit.

You were whipped for him.

Damnnit.

To be honest, nothing had changed. You were whipped for him as a cat too.

“I’m going to clear out some space the closet so you have somewhere to put your clothes, okay?”

“A-ah… Thanks…” he mumbled, picking up another pair of pants. Jeans this time.

“Oh, with these you can simply cut the hole. No need to sew because this type of fabric won’t fray too much. Ah, but not directly on the seam. Maybe here?” You pointed slightly to the right of the back middle seam. Your mouth kept talking despite not having any more instructions for him. “Did you know the butt rip was fashionable among women for a little while? Under the pocket though, not the center. That’s just weird.”

Yoongi tilted his head the other way.

“Women are weird,” he said in a deadpan voice.

You narrowed your eyes. “Oi.”

He picked up the scissors, raising an eyebrow at you. “Are you not weird?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but nothing came out. He’s got you there. Shit. You puffed your cheeks and turned around, stalking off to your bedroom. Why was he always right? One day, he won’t be right and you’ll mark it on your fucking calendar. Humph.

You slowed at your doorframe, remembering his sheepishly proud face as he showed off his sewing. Crap. What was Min Yoongi so cute for? And how were you supposed to look at other guys after knowing your cat (man) was so damn adorable? And observant and diligent? And driven to be independent, asking questions and trying to do things on his own not even forty-eight hours after becoming human? Cooking, sewing, folding his own clothes… what’s next, playing the fucking piano?

Yeah, right.

You snorted and went into your bedroom.

-

“What’s this?”

You looked up, half-buried in idol merchandise you didn’t even know you had. How long had these sweatshirts been sitting here in their plastic packages? And these posters left in the tubes at the back of your closet? You shouldn’t own so much stuff. You should sell it. You weren’t going to, because these were limited edition items and you would have to be crazy to sell stuff with the cute faces of your favorite idols. You stuck you head out of the closet to see what Yoongi was referring to.

“What? Oh, that?”

You wheezed in embarrassment, ducking back in the closet, pretending to be busy.

“Uh… so… YouTube and Twitch had a crackdown on using copyrighted music and I thought, well, maybe I could maybe make my own, so I brought a keyboard but, uh…”

You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly, trying to figure out how to say you had no musical inclination and only had the ability to appreciate it.

“Basically, I got no jams.”

The keyboard was still in its box. You had opened it and attempted to learn piano, but well, you were shit. Also, you gave up pretty quickly. It was embarrassing considering you had spent so much money on it and were all confident when buying it, only for it to become a hidden occupant in the back of your closet. This was before Shooky – er, Yoongi – had come into your life. Yes. It had been there for literal years.

“I was going to donate it,” you added with a sigh.

You suddenly noticed something out of the corner of your eye. You frowned and reached in, grabbing the thin, hard object before pulling it out.

A…

Skeleton in your closet.

A long-lost Halloween decoration? Why was this here?

“Can I have it?”

You looked up, holding the mysterious plastic skeleton like a small child. “What?”

Yoongi pointed to the keyboard box, black tail swishing rapidly. There was a liveliness in his dark brown eyes and his pointed ears were sticking straight up. You narrowed your eyes.

“You don’t want that skinny box for some reason, do you?” you accused.

He pursed his lips at you, scowling. “No, you can throw away the box. I want to keep the keyboard.”

Huh? “Uh… okay, I guess. More space in the closet, I suppose. Oh, wait…” You stumbled into the back of the closet, feeling around. “I brought a stand for it, hold on… fuck!” You jammed your finger against a metal pole and howled, quickly retreating your hand to massage it. Fuck, that hurt! Scowling, you reached back in to grab the metal keyboard stand and yank it out from between your tightly packed clothes.

“Are you dead?”

“Shit!”

You jumped nearly ten feet, almost banging your head on the clothing rail if it wasn’t for Yoongi’s swift movement of grabbing your shoulders, pulling you to him. He didn’t have to pull far, because he was right behind you. How did he always sneak up on you when he wore a damn bell around his neck that announced his presence? Sorcery. Aliens. Voodoo witchcraft. Now you were convinced these things existed.

(Your cat turning into a man wasn’t enough for you to believe in magic? What’s wrong with you?)

“You’re really clumsy,” Yoongi remarked.

No, you’re spooky, you thought. One of your hands was on his chest. Instant heart palpitations. And handsome. Crap.

“Are you going to do something weird again?”

Weird? You were never weird. What was this man going on about? You needed to reprimand him. Put him in his place! Enough is enough, Min Yoongi! You can’t win over me every time! You raised your head to face him, opening your mouth to give him a piece of your mind.

Yoongi was centimeters away from your face.

You froze.

Ice effect overlapping your whole body.

You dropped the keyboard stand.

Thankfully, it simply fell against your clothing, leaning against your sweatshirts. It stayed upright, held up by the clothing. You didn’t have to worry about it for the time being. It was perfectly fine, unlike you. You were not fine. Not fine at all, staring at Yoongi’s upturned upper lip and unreadable dark brown eyes, slowly blinking at you. Hands on your shoulders, holding you close to him.

Not letting go.

!!!

-

Jeon Jungkook placed his phone on his desk and chopped the air, threatening it.

It wasn’t sentient.

He still didn’t trust it.

He glared at his phone angrily and shuffled back to his bed to have a nice, calm rest that didn’t involve his nuts getting destroyed. Ugh. He was bored. He had plenty to do. Schoolwork. Studying. Cleaning his room covered in clothes. Attempting to cook.

Jungkook made a face at the ceiling.

The last time he tried to cook some glazed sweet potatoes they had been glued to the plate somehow. A neat magic trick, but not edible. He couldn’t get them to unstick, much less be eaten. He had to order out that night. Come to think of it, he spent most of his money on ordering out. Maybe that was a bad habit.

He ran a hand through his bleached, blond hair that had too much toner in it so it had turned slightly silvery-purple. An at-home experiment. Another bad habit.

Jungkook groaned, rolling onto his face.

“I need someone older to take care of me,” he mumbled into the sheets.

Someone older… with a certain tuxedo cat, perhaps? He pouted even though no one was there to witness his cuteness.

“Ahhhhhhh…”

He yelled quietly into his bedding, letting go.

Finally thinking about you.

In front of you, he could tease. He could poke fun. It was easy. You were just so flustered around him, not really trying to hide your attraction to him. The first time he had met you was when he went bowling with Seokjin-hyung (he won, much to the disdain of his hyung). You had stopped by to say hello and Seokjin had introduced you two. It had been a fairly innocent meeting, mostly because for a long time Jungkook couldn’t open his mouth to say anything at all. You were wearing a huge white t-shirt with a colorful strawberry graphic, a wide-brimmed straw hat, and white sneakers with black laces. It had been a hot summer day, he remembered. You were already pretty simply by standing there, chatting animatedly with his hyung. Jungkook tried not to look too closely, sneaking glances in between your conversation.

Seokjin had absolutely no qualms about shitting on your outfit.

“Yah, grandma, you’re off to pick some strawberries in the field or something?”

You had shoved him, rolling your eyes. “You’re a grandpa too! Look at you, losing to kid.”

Was that referring to him? “Ah, I’m not a kid.” Shit. His Busan dialect slipped out a little in his nervousness, deepening his voice.

Your cheeks had peppered pink. “A-ah… right…”

Oh?

Oh!

Oh!!!

You shook your head abruptly and reached into your tuxedo-cat-printed tote bag. “Here’s your freaking hard drive, you monkey,” you had said to Seokjin, handing over the small paper bag.

“Did you manage to restore all my files?” Seokjin asked worriedly, completely ignoring your insult.

You shrugged, looking rueful. “I don’t know how many you had, but I did the best I could.” You leaned forward, eyes narrowing, whispering in his ear. Didn’t matter. Jungkook was close enough to hear.

“Stop downloading porn!”

Jungkook snorted.

Seokjin glared at you. “Excuse me, I am living a healthy lifestyle, do not judge me!” he hissed. “And not in front of the child!”

Yeah, well, Jungkook didn’t let you think he was a child for long.

He wasn't really sure why he was attracted to you. It wasn't only because you were pretty. He just had a strong urge to get a reaction out of you. Ah, maybe that was it. He liked seeing your reactions to things and did everything he could to get more and more interesting reactions out of you. You never told Jungkook to stop. You told Seokjin to stop all the time.

"I swear if you make one more pun, I'm going to tie your tongue into a knot!"

"Then I'd really be tongue-tied, eh? Eh?! WAIT, NO, WATCH THE FACE, NOT MY FACE!!!"

Jungkook couldn't help himself. He had to mess with you. 

Fuck. 

(Yes, actually.)

He couldn't stop. It was too fun. It didn't help that you had a cute surprised face. Didn't help that you had a great smile. Didn’t help that you had an amazing body under your clothes and knew exactly how to use it (Jungkook wouldn’t admit it, but he learned a lot from you). Didn't help that you would chase after your tuxedo cat and scoop up that furball even after getting railed by him, which Jungkook found very impressive. 

"Shooky, you loon, I told you to stop running on the counters..."

And you would cradle that cat to your chest, petting his head and waiting for him to purr and lick your nose before releasing him, satisfied that he was no longer going to be a menace. He still was though. He was a cat. You forgave Shooky every time. 

Just like how you let Jungkook get away with everything. 

Present Jungkook frowned, rolling onto his back, frowning at the ceiling. Maybe you thought he was a fuckboy and had a negative image of him. He scratched his head, tongue in cheek, thinking hard. No. You didn't seem like the type. You were never angry at him, not really, not even when he interrupted your work to mess around in bed. Exasperated, maybe, but it never seemed like you were holding an internal grudge or upset at his nonchalant actions. Ah, but he hadn’t tried to talk to you in almost a whole year. Would you think he was a dick if he tried to contact you now? He couldn’t ask you. He couldn’t ask your best friend. Seokjin-hyung still had no idea. 

Jungkook laughed to himself. 

He kind of went behind his hyung's back, whoops.

He looked to his left side, the side you used to fall asleep on when he spent the night. He could imagine it, your past self and his past self, your hair on your pillow, blankets loosely over your chest, his hand on your breasts as you slept. 

A pair of mint-green eyes glaring at him from the left side of your body. 

Jungkook remembered poking that pink nose with his index finger, the rest of his hand still on your tits. The tuxedo cat had given him a very displeased look. 

"Are you mad?"

The cat didn't reply. He was a cat. 

"You're really lucky. You get to be with her every day," Jungkook had whispered, not wanting to wake you up. "She takes good care of you, you know. I see how much she loves you."

The cat closed his eyes, resting his furry head on your arm. 

"Do you love her back?"

Maybe. Maybe not. Jungkook didn't know. He wasn't a cat. He couldn't ask in cat language. He let go of your breasts for a second to scratch the top of Shooky's head, right between those velvety ears. He began purring like a little motor. 

You continued your adventures in la la land, oblivious to this interaction. 

"I guess cats are kind of simple, huh?" Jungkook mused, smoothing out the black fur on top of that little head. "You don't have to think about much. You don't have to get a job, plan for the future, or worry about being a good husband."

His hand lowered.

"But I do."

You breathed softly against him, nuzzling closer to his body. Jungkook put his hand back on your breasts and you stilled, lost in your dreams. He breathed out, warmth against your skin. He saw the side of your lips twitch ever so slightly upwards, but maybe it was only his imagination wishing to see what he wanted.

Only a wish.

He had placed his nose by your cheek and breathed in, losing himself in dreams as well. 

-

Yoongi looked into your eyes. 

Then both of you turned to opposite sides and sneezed loudly.

"Fuck–"

"That was horrible," Yoongi hissed, rubbing his nose with the back of his hand and backing up. "Ugh, human bodies are awful."

You shook your head roughly. "Someone must be thinking about me... and you, I guess..." you mumbled, clearing your head before prodding him in the chest. "Also, last time I checked, now you're human too, so jokes on you. Hope you enjoy the suffering!" You stuck your tongue out childishly.

Yoongi gave you an annoyed look, reaching over you to grab the keyboard stand. You stiffened at his closeness, but he quickly withdrew, taking the metal stand and leaving you disappointed, but not surprised. Couldn't even pretend to be shocked.

He lifted it up so it wouldn’t drag on the floor and began to walk out of the room, ignoring you.

Classic. 

You thinned your mouth into a line and picked up the white plastic skeleton. What to do with this? Fuck it. Back into the closet it goes, along with your winter wardrobe, summer wardrobe, and other knickknacks.

Well. 

Maybe you could donate a couple things to charity. 

Like this Chinese finger trap. Why was this here?

You stuck your fingers in it. 

S... shit!

Yoongi reappeared to grab the keyboard. You opened your mouth, about to ask for help, looking up to see your cat-man standing in the doorframe of your bedroom, glaring. Very displeased and disapproving, reminding you a whole lot of a certain tuxedo fluffball.

"I'll say it again."

Huh? You gave him a confused look. 

He pointed to his pointed, velvety black ears. 

"I'm a cat, duh."

And then he walked out. Fuck him. You didn't need his help. 

-

You couldn’t get it off.

Panik!

Yes, you can. It was just a finger trap. You were smart. You graduated university. You had been a human for many more years than Min Yoongi. He had been human for two days! And besides, Yoongi was mean. You didn’t need a meanie to help you. You were a strong, independent woman who didn’t need no (cat) man.

Kalm.

You…

You…

You couldn’t get it off!!!

PANIK!!!!!!!

-

“… What are you doing?”

You were the epitome of the emoji holding back tears.

“Y… Yoongi…” you whined.

He blinked at you, holding the manual of the keyboard upside down. The keyboard was already set up on the stand, pushed up against one of the walls of your living room. He was using the cardboard box that his clothes came in – he really loved that damn box – as a makeshift seat.

“Are you dying?”

You held up your hands, pouting. The bronze dragon Chinese finger trap was still stuck on your index fingers. It had been roughly twenty, maybe thirty minutes.

Your cat-man just blinked at you and it.

“I… can’t get it off… Help…”

He raised an eyebrow and put the manual on the keyboard before walking over to you. He placed his chin in between his index finger and his thumb, frowning. Looking this way and that. The realization was slowly kicking in.

Yoongi wasn’t hiding his smirk very well.

“You know how to take it off!” you howled, smacking him in the chest.

He cackled, backing up as you repeatedly whacked him with the back of your hands, furious because it was obvious that he knew what to do and was simply not doing it to piss you off, his grin getting wider and wider, still not saying anything, this little shit, backing up into your living room as you chased him, stupid cat-man was fucking fast, dodging you easily, your joined hands and annoyed demeanor making you a bit wobbly.

“Min Yoongi, I swear I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” he teased, raising his hands in mock innocence. “Maybe I don’t know?”

You scowled at him. “You definitely know.”

He smirked.

Shit.

It was sexy and you were supposed to be mad!

You were next to the keyboard now. And a certain something. Hm. You jerked your head to the cardboard box. His eyes widened.

“You wouldn’t do such a thing.”

“I would.”

“You wouldn’t, you heathen.”

“You better fucking believe I would!”

(You’re threatening to recycle a cardboard box to force your cat-man to get you out of a metal finger trap that you put yourself in. Um, are you okay? Better yet, are both of you okay???)

He marched over to you, relenting with an angry huff, yanking up your hands.

“There’s a trick to it, of course.”

He pressed the dragon’s horns in tandem with the dragon’s beard on either side and the trap released your red fingers, making you gasp at the sudden freedom. Holy shit. You stared at your freed index fingers. You had two hands. Wow. Amazing. Show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique…

Yoongi placed the finger trap on the coffee table.

“Hmph. This thing is probably only worth three dollars.”

You poked your index fingers together, suddenly ashamed. “Sorry I threatened your box.”

Yoongi grunted, cat ears flicking back and forth in annoyance.

You poked his stomach with your index fingers. “Er… I just… wanted you to help me...”

“You weren’t going to do it anyway.”

You puffed your cheeks, narrowing your eyes, irritation flaring back. “Well, maybe I was! What were you going to do, leave me like that, unable to use my hands for the rest of my life?” You jabbed him repeatedly in the chest, driving your point home in between your snappish words. “Hmm? I need hands to do things! Important things!”

Yoongi suddenly grabbed your wrists and held them up over your head.

(Aw shit, here we go again.)

“Y-Yoongi?!”

He raised an eyebrow at you.

“What important things do you need to do with your hands?” he asked.

Oh shit.

Oh no.

Why was his vice suddenly so deep? Did he even know???

Your eyes widened, brain malfunctioning, your last two working brain cells rushing to the library to find the book titled ‘things you can do with your hands’, opening it, reading, handsy things. That was it. That was all you had at this moment. Why was it that your brain had the memory equal to the RAM of a fucking Tamagotchi every time your cat-man touched you?

Oh, yeah, that’s right, because he was a cat literally two days ago and you never thought about fucking your cat because that’s just fucking weird, but now he’s a man, so maybe it’s okay, unless it’s not, and then what does that make you? FUCKING WEIRD, THAT’S WHAT.

You yelped as your back collided to the wall. When had you walked that far? What was going on? What was life??? You were yanked back to reality as Yoongi leaned down, tilting his head, eyebrow still cocked, dark eyes darker from his fluffy black hair falling over his eyes.

“I hear you don’t always like being able to use your hands.”

Holyfuckingshitcrap.

Instantly, your cheerful brain decided to play the memory of you begging Jeon Jungkook to hold down your wrists so you couldn’t stop him and his relentless assault on your pussy, one hand grasping both your wrists and the other rubbing two fingers on your clit, thrusting his hard cock in and out of you as he abused the sensitive bundle of nerves, pinning you to your bed, panting in your face.

“You like this, noona?” Jungkook had purred.

(Respectfully.)

Voice low, deep, and sexy, driving you insane, waves of pleasure crashing into you over and over, pussy throbbing with repeated orgasm.

“F-Fuck, yes, oh fuck, Jungkook, yes… don’t s-stooop…”

Shooky had sat on the highest level of his cat tree, glaring down at you two.

Shit, shit, shit…

Yoongi leaned in even more, eyes disappearing, lips next to your ear. You felt him transfer one of your wrists to his other hand, now holding both with one hand as the other fell against your body.

“In fact, I’ve seen it firsthand,” he whispered, low, soft, dangerous.

Your brain ended the film reel in your head, giving you two mental thumbs-up and beaming happily at you as if it had done a great thing.

No, brain.

You’ve fucked me over and now I’m horny as fuck!

A needy whimper popped out of you as Yoongi’s free hand slipped between your bodies, fingers dancing deftly across the fabric of your sweatshirt, following the rhythm of your racing heart as it went down, down, too fast, sanity unable to keep up, you rising into his touch, his fingers sliding underneath the waistband of your leggings. This pair wasn’t as tight as the previous pair, but the fabric still clung to your skin just as tightly.

Wait. Is that you? Moaning?

(Yes.)

He dragged them down your hips, having to let go of the waistband for a moment to push them past the sides before resuming, you moaning in the space where he should have a human ear, but he didn’t, because Yoongi was a cat-man and his pointed furry ears were at the top of his head.

“Y… Yoongi…”

“Hm?”

His soft lips lightly pressed against your ear and you shivered. His grip on your wrists wasn’t very tight. You could break out any time. He was only loosely holding you.

“I… I am…” you quivered, voice shaking.

“I want to make you feel good.”

His murmur was so gentle, so calm, so quiet that it almost didn’t feel real. Almost a purr.

“Do you want me to make you feel good?”

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

“Yes.”

You said it.

Your panties were leaving with your leggings, shoved down mid-thigh. Your name in your ear, spoken by Min Yoongi, his body hovering over yours, black hair against your cheek, his fingers slipping between your legs, your heart slamming in your chest, thighs squeezing his hand.

“Feels nice here,” Yoongi mumbled, breath feathering on your skin. A single finger grazed your wetness and you gasped, his raspy chuckle in your ear. “Wet.”

Your eye twitched, slightly annoyed. No, really? Thanks for letting me know, it’s not like I can fucking feel it myself or anything, I absolutely need your riveting play-by-play–

“Urk!”

Yoongi scooped two fingers into your pussy and felt around inside, rubbing his fingertips against your throbbing walls.

“Ah…” He was breathing hard, pushing them in joint by joint, his own inhale shallowing. “Fuck, it’s so tight in here, are you alright?”

Oh, my fucking God, Yoongi, just fucking destroy me, I’m not a virgin!

You sucked in a shaking breath, mentally beating your inner thot back down. “F-Feels really nice, Yoongi… just… a little more…” He sank his fingers all the way to the knuckles. “Fuuuck, yes, oh, fuck yes…”

You rocked your hips into it, moaning, eyes closing, building up a pace, not really waiting for him to figure out that he could move his fingers too. It didn’t matter though, because Yoongi was highly observant and diligent, and, as much as you avoided to admit it, he had seen you get fingered hundreds of times, all over the apartment, in all sorts of embarrassing positions and with plenty of visible, graphic, high-definition detail, better than any porn video.

By – yup, you guessed it – Jeon Jungkook.

Yoongi began his own pace to match yours, thrusting his two fingers in and out until you were a hopeless mess, whining and bucking against his touch, your juices coating his hand, staring up at the ceiling with the tips of his black ears in your peripheral vision, tilted towards you to listen to every single one of your sounds. His heavy exhale invaded your head, lost in Yoongi’s rhythm that was uniquely his, only able to cry out, harder or faster, losing yourself in him, his scent, the smell of your vanilla body wash, and the rapidly strengthening sweetness between your legs rising up despite it dripping down your thighs.

“Yoongi… oh, fuck, Yoongi…”

It just felt too good, speed, strength, sound, wet messy squelches of his fingers entering you over and over, your pussy responding in kind, shuddering around them, clenching tight, hips rocking into every plunge to deepen the stroke, prolonging your own orgasm, savoring the moment.

“You feel so good…”

That wasn’t you.

That was Yoongi.

Whispering in your ear, probably not even realizing his own dirty talk.

“So fucking wet and warm,” he murmured, the rumble purring in his chest, soothing but also far too sexy. “Sucking my fingers back in, fucking me back… You really like me this much?” His lips brushed your ear, chaste kisses compared to the rough fingering of his slippery digits pushing into you repeatedly, the sounds getting louder and lewder because you were getting wetter and wetter. “Am I really that good-looking to you?”

Yoongi, are you BLIND, DEAF, or BOTH???

“Fuck yes, you are, what the fuck?” you gasped out, turning your head slightly, one of his dark brown eyes locking with yours, your jaw clenched with the effort of you holding back your orgasm to respond to his ludicrous question. “You are so fucking handsome I couldn’t even last two days of being in your presence, thirsting after you!”

You heard Yoongi chuckle, the sound resonating and teasing your ear.

“Actually, you couldn’t even last one, remember?” he drawled slyly.

His knuckle grazed your throbbing, aroused clit.

“Fuck!”

Your body twisted, whining wail torn out of you as you came, pushing your head and hands against the wall, nerves sparking and shaking, intense pleasure flooding all over your senses from holding back, breathless whimpers of Yoongi’s name, grinding into his hand. He let go of your wrists. They prickled with pins and needles of lost circulation, but you didn’t give a shit, grabbing his hand between your legs and shoving it back in you before it could retreat, riding out your orgasm, milking it for every single gram of ecstasy, cherishing every single second of another’s hand inside you, not just another but your disturbingly attractive man who was previously a cat sleeping in your lap exactly forty-eight hours ago as you innocently watched American Horror Story.

“Y… Yoongi?” you panted, orgasm petering out, trickling waves subsiding.

“Y… Yes?”

He wasn’t making fun of you. You could hear the nervousness in his voice.

“Can I kiss you?”

His face appeared in front of yours.

“Yes.”

You didn’t think twice.

You closed your eyes and leaned forward, lips on his, your satisfied sigh tickling his skin, kissing him hard, the intimacy you desired for so long, moments you spent all year trying to keep it at bay, no one to show your affection but tiny kisses on Shooky’s furry head, but now one of your hands was cupping Yoongi’s cheek, deepening the kiss, him pressing back against you, sandwiching you between the wall and himself. You let go of his hand between your legs and held both his cheeks, peppering light pecks against that lovely mouth. You wanted to kiss him over and over, so nice, so lovely, his barely-there gasps drifting on your lips with every kiss.

His fingers slipped out and touched your thigh.

You drew back, heart thudding, still holding his face, his round cheeks a little squished in your hands.

He raised his hand and put his pussy-soaked fingers in his mouth.

You jerked your hands back. “Y-Yoongi!” you exclaimed, shocked.

His pink tongue slipped around his fingers, tiny kitten licks to slurp it all up. He hummed, small smirk playing on his lips. You gawked at him.

“Y-You don’t have to–”

“You like it, don’t you?”

You shut your mouth, cheeks burning with heat.

Yoongi smirked wider, nimble tongue slipping around and around, your eyes glued to the movement, brain already dreaming up lecherous scenarios. His dark brown eyes flickered to you, eyebrows rising.

“Hmm…”

“W-What?” you snapped, trying to collect yourself. He was giving you that look again. That enigmatic expression of maybe-maybe-not. Yoongi shrugged, taking his fingers out of his mouth.

“I think we should do that again sometime.”

Your mind went blank.

Again? Now? Later?

Next Tuesday?

WHEN, MIN YOONGI, WHEN?

“… Urk?”

Those cunning dark brown orbs sparkled with mischief. “Hmm, then again, maybe we’ll do something different next time,” he pondered out loud, taunting you with the suggestive depth of his voice. He backed up, tail swaying from side to side, his grin widening, turning into an open-mouthed smirk that showed off his pretty teeth and devious expression.

His next words were the verbal equivalent of pushing your full glass of brainpower right off the table and sending it crashing to the floor.

“I have a lot of things I want to try.”

-

part v

--

masterpost

[pixiedoodlein]

I’m so fucking mad that a year and a half into this pandemic I am back to 11th hour debating another year of homeschool. The first stretch of homeschool, in NYC, when the toddler was a baby, and husband was home on unemployment, was good, nice even, a quiet piece of something good when the world outside was falling apart. The next stretch, the Oklahoma stretch, with a particularly climby toddler, husband working 10 hour days, me doing remote contract work, somewhere we had no family around to help w/ childcare, was challenging. I was not always my best self. Some days were delightful, muffins and math games. Other days I was more Miss Trunchbull than Miss Honey, fractions were squeezed in between crying (usually mine) and netflix (way too much of hers), and I held on to any shred of sanity by telling myself “just a little longer, just until the vaccines.”

Well here we are. Husband & I have been vaccinated for months, but the kids aren’t yet. The upstate NY town we moved to is a very small town (pop: 838), was mostly untouched by previous waves. When we got here, I couldn’t understand why everyone was so lax about it- no masks, no panic. Our first day here, when I came home from the market and saw through the window a gaggle of unmasked kids in my living room (the neighbors coming to welcome us, they heard a kid moved in) I almost had a heart attack. In fact, I was so tired from the drive from OKC that for a moment I actually thought I was at the wrong house, that I was hallucinating, because how in the world could there be unmasked bodies in my living room.

Then I started talking to people here. And I realized that the way I thought they were insane for not being deathly afraid of covid, they thought I was insane for being petrified. Because the disease hadn’t hit here; their businesses were destroyed and their kids were out of school (in a rural area with barely functional internet, remote school = a lost year) and their lives were totally fucked up, for a disease that never arrived at their doorstep. I came to understand why they weren’t worried, why here life looked (almost) normal. I told them about what it was like to live somewhere covid tore through, the freezer trucks of bodies on the FDR Drive and my previously healthy 27yld brother so sick with it the first spring he thought he was about to die (but too scared to go to a hospital), my dad’s relative in the next NYC wave on a vent for months and lucky to be alive but may never walk again, the doctors in OKC pleading on the news to please wear a fucking mask because the hospitals were fucking full, and the neighbors stopped thinking I was psycho when I carried extra masks for their kids, and made them put them on, when I took them to town for ice cream. I never stopped masking. But we did indoor dine here (once, BBQ, it wasn’t delicious enough for how anxious I felt) and I did bring all the kids, including my toddler, to a fairly crowded children’s museum in the big (small) city an hour away, where the rest of us were masked but the one with his hands in his mouth, who was all up in other kids’ faces, the one who really should be masked, wasn’t because he won’t leave it on for more than a minute.

Actually it’s a lie to say that I never stopped masking- I have dashed into little stores here, without one, because I’m vaxed! It’s safe here! Covid felt done. We had friends come here to visit this summer. Friends who are vaxed, but that doesn’t seem to really matter enough anymore. We had the neighbors over for meals, indoors (you see, more indoor dining! A minute ago I was just thinking restaurants, but why would plagues only spread in restaurants?). They had us for meals. The girls are a crew, new best friends, making my daughter’s life here so, so much happier, constant sleepovers (their kids were at our house this afternoon; my kid is at their house right now). The parents and grandparents are wonderful, making my life here, and husband’s life here, so much easier, so much better. We help them with stuff, they help us with stuff, there isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t see each other, unmasked. Some of the adults in their household are vaxed; some of the adults in their household are not. The kids are all too young to be vaxed. But it (living, doing shit again, seeing people again) really stopped feeling scary; it really felt like everything was fine, normal-ish, normal-er. The end of the pandemic felt in sight.

I signed my child up for school here. Real school, not mommy school, school with a school bus. She was a little anxious, I had to talk her into it, I sold it hard, I bought her whatever pair of new sneakers she wanted for her new school (she hasn’t had gym class in a year and a half; for a phase in Oklahoma she wore one boot and one sandal every day, why not). She wasn’t anxious about sneakers or covid; she was anxious that maybe she hadn’t learned enough in homeschool (I am not a teacher! I did not homeschool because I am good at it or love it or wanted to, I homeschooled because I was scared of her getting covid at school and dying), that she would be behind. She isn’t behind. I followed the real school curriculum as best I could (as in: sometimes totally and sometimes not at all), and somehow, when I gave her the standardized “real school” test “at the end of the year” (aka the day I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to focus on my work or I wasn’t going to have an income, the day I’d decided we’d done as much as we could and it was time to be done), she sailed through it, this kid is smart. Smart as in needs to be in actual real fucking school to stay smart and learn and reach her potential.

She got excited- one of the neighbor kids is in her grade. The other kid is older- but the school is small, she’d see her tons. She was excited; I was excited. I registered her for school. Her new teacher sent a nice note. We all were excited. She’s never taken the school bus before but the neighbors take it and she’d be fine on the bus with her besties, the bus would pick her up in front of their house since there’s nowhere to turn around up our hill (we are VERY rural), they’d all get on and off the bus together. She has been backpack shopping. We have been discussing what she’ll have for breakfast (honey nut Cheerios), what she wants me to pack for lunch (she says just Goldfish, I say turkey sandwich, we’re working on it).

But now, 18 days before school starts here, I am thisclose to pulling her out, to embarking on another lovely (not), gratifying (not) year of homeschool, because of covid, delta. When we got to our new home in our new tiny town in June, there was no covid here. Now, our county is listed by the CDC as a high transmission area (is there anywhere in the US that isn’t?). 80% of senior citizens here are vaxed; 50% of the total population is, well below the national average. 15 cases per 100,000, in a county of 100,000. I guess this is less rampant than our previous pandemic locales, NYC (currently 25/100K), OKC (49/100K). This is splitting hairs, everywhere is bad. This is what panic does to me: are we better or worse for every decision we’ve made in the past year and a half, every decision that got us here? There are fewer cases here but fewer people and fewer vaccinated people and fewer ICU beds. We aren’t safe even here, but at least we are happy (happy aside from fear of delta death).

I don’t know whether to send my kid to school in 18 days. There will be masks but masks aren’t enough (how many masks do I make her wear? two, ten, a thousand?). This choice feels crazy— in March 2020, when that covid was mostly sparing kids, I yanked her out of school. Now, this covid does hurt kids. How much longer, how many more years, can parents be in this position to make this nightmare choice? What will hurt her more: school or no school? There are vaccines, more than enough in America. We shouldn’t be having to make this choice.

As it is, because of toddler— not because of toddler, because of being a parent to children in a pandemic— my work life, and husband’s, will be severely impacted this year, again. I can’t send him to daycare because he’s too little to leave a mask on (he won’t even leave his pants on!) in a room full of other unmasked toddlers, whose families may or may not be vaxd, may or may not wear masks (there has been a noticeable increase in supermarket mask wearing since we got here, but still not enough, is any of it enough?), may or may not be going to parties and weddings and funerals, daycare providers who may or may not be doing all the same. This means I can only apply to remote jobs, so I can be home with him. Husband has some flexibility, more than he did in OKC, but god forbid he has to work while I have a work call or meeting or work due I didn’t manage to get done at 4am or 11pm when the house is quiet. He can’t bring toddler to work with him, his work is up on scaffold, stenciling ceilings. This will be another year of me muting myself on Zooms while toddler pulls his diaper off and hurls poop at the cat. Would it really be so much harder to also be trying to teach parts of speech to our daughter at the same time? Yes, it would, but I don’t know if I can send my kids back out into the world until they’re vaccinated. I am counting the days, holding my breath, until they can be.

I used to believe in personal choice. I don’t anymore. I want this shit to be mandated, I want the government to line us up and force mRNA into holdouts’ arms, I want it to be required, to be able to function in and interact with and benefit from society in any way, shape, or form. I have been very lucky in the pandemic. Privilege stacked on privilege on privilege, to be fussing over my Zooms in my hamlet. I had been pretty pandemic perky, baking my pies and playing with my pandemic pets and (thinking about) doing puzzles, but I’ve reached my breaking point. This shit could be done, but it’s not, and I’m scared it never will be.

[xhanisai]

What if you had it all, But nobody to call?

AO3 / FFN

Summary:  "...Am I dreaming?" 

Marinette almost leapt to her feet and turned around, only for common sense and the hammered identity rule to slap her in the face and keep her rooted on the spot. 

Her Chaton was crying...crying. His entire body shook and shuddered as the sound of his quiet gasps filled the tense air, his touch now a raging inferno coursing through her veins.

And she couldn't even bring him into her arms and brush his tears away with her pinpricked fingers.

    ~(x)~

.

.

.

   Ladybug and Chat Noir's abilities were capable of many, many things. Things that were miraculously incredible to say at the very least and beyond scientific comprehension- for goodness sake, how many times have Ladybug brought the dead back to life after the umpteenth distraught puppet villain razed them to the ground?  And how many times have Chat Noir managed to take down La Tour Eiffel with one singular touch, rendering it to nothing but ashes and dust in the wind?  However, as magnificent and majestic as their powers were, not even they were able to prevent the dreaded pandemic that took over the world by a storm and put everyone completely at its mercy.  This time, the heroes that the world needed were those with medical training, scrubs and a vow to the Hippocratic oath.  Mon Dieu, were they such brilliant, resilient heroes indeed.  .  Despite the United Nations worldwide urging all civilians to stay indoors at all times (unless necessary outings were needed) and countries locking down dozens at a time, Le Papillon let it all flow through one ear and out the other. It's as if he has an addiction to sending out akumas left, right and centre as severe as a chain-smoker and the fact that there's an airborne virus that could completely destroy even the most healthiest person was just a muted buzz in the background. 

 Then again, what does one expect from the tunnel-visioned, single-minded, 'father of the year', Gabriel fucking Agreste?

     "There are people literally dying out here and this crusty old man can't even take a hint!?"

   "My Lady, what do we expect from the same man who regularly akumatises M. Ramier?"

 Of course, the teenaged vigilantes had no choice but to risk their safeties as well as their loved ones by sneaking out of their abodes and battling the millionth akuma on the streets. 

   "Chaton...my parents are starting to think I'm constipated. CONSTIPATED."

   "I told you, just use the shower excuse rather than the toilet excuse."

   "But then they'll think I have some sweaty teenaged puberty problem!"

   "Either way it's a bit shit, isn't it?"

   "Oh fuck off..."

 Thankfully, Tikki and Plagg were able to upgrade their traditional superhero suits, extending the masks downwards so that they covered the heroes' lower faces and filtered out the air, keeping them safe as they battled. However, social distancing was a whole new different obstacle that made these very fights thousands of times harder to win.  The numerous events that Chat Noir had to be verbally restrained from going absolutely apeshit on akumas that gave Ladybug a beating that went too far when he could have pushed her away in ordinary circumstances was just insane. The heroine never realised how dangerous her infamous clumsiness could be at times, concluding her completely vulnerable and at the akuma's mercy whilst Chat Noir has no choice but to scream her name in agony a good distance away.  And vice versa.  Oh mon Dieu.    She has had witnessed her poor partner get skewered and burnt alive by the more unforgiving victims too many times, her shaking arms aching to bring his body against hers so that she can feel his heart beating under her touch and lay kisses upon his tousled locks just to ensure her barely sane mind that he was still alive.  That he won't leave her forever.  The pandemic was such a vile curse...  And it made everyone feel so, so alone.  Finally, after months of these life-threatening fights, both physical and internal, both Ladybug and Chat Noir against le Papillon and the doctors and nurses and essential workers against the virus, a new testing system was introduced.

   "I finally got my results! I got negative. What about you, Bug?"

   "I got negative too! Dieu merci...looks like those sniffles I had really was hayfever after all,"

   "You have no idea how relieved I am to hear that, Ladybug. I...I couldn't help but think the worst when you mentioned about the sniffles last week...and I even yelled at you for coming out to battle the other day..."

   "Chat, you only had my best interests in mind...and I would have had done the same. But you can make it up to me, now that we can share a social bubble,"

   "How?"

   "Follow me!"

    .

   "-And now, we can freely grab each other whenever we want and we will be back in sync during akuma battles in no time. Isn't that great? Neither of us has to wallow in guilt or cry because we weren't able to push the other one out of harm's way." Marinette sighed happily, her bare hands squeezing her Chaton's as they both rested their backs against the pillar in between them.  The noir-haired girl couldn't help but let her fingers and thumbs map out every nook, every crevice and every feature of her partner's hands like a desperate lover.  The way that his longer, thicker fingers flexed under her touch and curled warmly against hers, the rough callouses on the palms that indicated years of hard work to whatever sport he's dedicated himself to, the glossy smoothness of his detransform miraculous on his right hand and its ridges poking into her skin and the sweet body heat that emanated from his caresses and sent her entire body aflame.  She missed this.  Dieu, she missed her partner's physical touch so much.

   .

   "...Am I dreaming?"

.

 Marinette almost leapt to her feet and turned around, only for common sense and the hammered identity rule to slap her in the face and keep her rooted on the spot.  Her Chaton was crying...crying. His entire body shook and shuddered as the sound of his quiet gasps filled the tense air, his touch now a raging inferno coursing through her veins.  And she couldn't even bring him into her arms and brush his tears away with her pinpricked fingers.  "Chat Noir?? What's wrong?" She asked, her heart skipping multiple beats when she attempted to move her hands away from his, only for Noir to grip them tightly and entwine their fingers firmly.  A perfect fit.  .  "S-Sorry...heh-I'm not upset," He reassured her, tightening his clasp on her hands lovingly, his lips aching to press against her sweet, bare-knuckles in a sound kiss. "It's just...it's just been a while since I've had proper human contact, My Lady...so I've almost forgotten what it's like to be touched...or touch another..."  Adrien felt her move,��rather than saw, his Lady's breath hitching in her throat as she in return sent a squeeze back to him. It was as if his entire being was surrounded by a pool of warmth, lighting up his crushed soul and cleansing his shattered heart. The urge to just turn around and envelope her in his greedy arms was exorbitantly unbearable.   She was right there, just behind him, tempting him with that oh-so-familiar bakery scent of cinnamon and vanilla that he could taste it. Alas, his unwavering sense of loyalty to her rules and his primal feelings to keep her safe kept him chained down.  .  But sometimes, even the most beaten down, the most saddest and the most broken of people can receive a glimpse of hope.

   "Well, now you can have all the human contact you want, Chat. C-Close your eyes and I'll come to you- mine are closed too."

 She didn't give him a chance to answer, using her hands to manoeuvre her way towards him until finally, she found his lap and settled down before bringing him in for a well-needed embrace and burying his head into the crook of her neck. Adrien didn't hesitate in crushing her body against his chest, his arms locked around her waist, one hand digging into her smooth tendrils whilst the other one clenching the fabric of her shirt on the small of her back.  He selfishly inhaled in her scent, his tears saturating her neck whilst she in turn let her fingers tangle with his blonde strands, lips puckered against his nape as she memorised the pattern of his heartbeat in tandem to hers. 

   "How long can w-we stay like this?"

   "As long as you would like, mon Minou..."

.

They stayed like that in the same position, all night.

  .

.

.

~(x)~

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift appears to be waging war over the serial resale of her old master recordings on two fronts. She recently confirmed that she is already underway in the process of re-recording the six albums she made for the Big Machine label, in order to steer her fans (and sync licensing execs) toward the coming alternate versions she’ll control. But now that she’s followed the surprise release of “Folklore” with the very, very surprise release of “Evermore” less than five months later, the thought may occur: If she keeps up this pace, she may have more new albums out on the Republic label than she ever did on Big Machine in a quarter of the time. Flooding the zone to further crowd out the oldies is unlikely to be Swift’s real motivation for giving the world a full-blown “Folklore” sequel this instantaneously: As motivations for prolific activity go, relieving and sublimating quarantine pressure is probably even better than revenge. Anyway, this is not a gift horse to be looked in the mouth. “Evermore,” like its mid-pandemic predecessor, feels like something that’s been labored over — in the best possible way — for years, not something that was written and recorded beginning in August, with the bow said to be put on it only about a week ago. Albums don’t get graded on a curve for how hastily they came together, or shouldn’t be, but this one doesn’t need the handicap. It’d be a jewel even if it’d been in progress forevermore and a day.The closest analog for the relation the new album bears to its predecessor might be one that’d seem ancient to much of Swift’s audience: U2 following “Achtung Baby” with “Zooropa” while still touring behind the previous album. It’s hard to remember now that a whole year and a half separated those two related projects; In that very different era, it seemed like a ridiculously fast follow-up. But the real comparison lies in how U2, having been rewarded for making a pretty gutsy change of pace with “Achtung,” seemed to say: You’re okay with a little experimentation? Let’s see how you like it when we really boil things down to our least commercial impulses, then — while we’ve still got you in the mood.Swift isn’t going avant-garde with “Evermore.” If anything, she’s just stripping things down to even more of an acoustic core, so that the new album often sounds like the folk record that the title of the previous one promised — albeit with nearly subliminal layers of Mellotrons, flutes, French horns and cellos that are so well embedded beneath the profuse finger-picking, you probably won’t notice them till you scour the credits. But it’s taking the risk of “Folklore” one step further by not even offering such an obvious banger (irony intended) as “Cardigan.” Aaron Dessner of the National produced or co-produced about two-thirds of the last record, but he’s on 14 out of 15 tracks here (Jack Antonoff gets the remaining spot), and so the new album is even more all of a piece with his arpeggiated chamber-pop impulses, Warmth amid iciness is a recurring lyrical motif here, and kind of a musical one, too, as Swift’s still increasingly agile vocal acting breathes heat into arrangements that might otherwise seem pretty controlled. At one point Swift sings, “Hey, December, I’m feeling unmoored,” like a woman who might even know she’s going to put her album out a couple of weeks before Christmas. It’s a wintry record — suitable for double-cardigan wearing! — and if you’re among the 99% who have been feeling unmoored, too, then perhaps you are Ready For It. Swift said in announcing the album that she was moving further into fiction songwriting after finding out it was a good fit on much of “Folklore,” a probably inevitable move for someone who’s turning 31 in a few days and appears to have a fairly settled personal life. Which is not to say that there aren’t scores to settle, and a few intriguing tracks whose real-life associations will be speculated upon. But just as the “Betty”/”August” love triangle of mid-year established that modern pop’s most celebrated confessional writer can just make shit up, too, so, here, do we get the narrator of “Dorothea,” a honey in Tupelo who is telling a childhood friend who moved away and became famous that she’s always welcome back in her hometown. (Swift may be doing a bit of empathic wondering in a couple of tracks here how it feels to be at the other end of the telescope.) One time the album takes a turn away from rumination into a pure spirit of fun — while getting dark anyway — is “No Body, No Crime,” a spirited double-murder ballad that may have more than a little inspiration in “Goodbye, Earl.” Since Swift already used the Dixie Chicks for background vocals two albums ago, for this one she brings in two of the sisters from Haim, Danielle and Este, and even uses the latter’s name for one of the characters. Yes, the rock band Haim’s featured appearance is on the only really country-sounding song on the record… there’s one you didn’t see coming, in the 16 hours you had to wonder about it. Yet there are also a handful of songs that clearly represent a Swiftian state of mind. At least, it’s easy to suppose that the love songs that opens the album, “Willow,” is a cousin to the previous record’s “Invisible String” and “Peace,” even if it doesn’t offer quite as many clearly corroborating details about her current relationship as those did. On the sadder side, Swift is apparently determined to run through her entire family tree for heartrending material. On “Lover,” she sang for her stricken mother; on “Folklore,” for her grandfather in wartime. In that tradition the new album offers “Marjorie,” about the beloved grandmother she lost in 2003, when she was 13. (The lyric videos that are being offered online mostly offer static visual loops, but the one for “Marjorie” is an exception, reviving a wealth of stills and home-movie footage of Grandma, who was quite a looker in a miniskirt in her day.) Rue is not something Swift is afraid of here anymore than anywhere else, as she sings, “I should’ve asked you questions / I should’ve asked you how to be / Asked you to write it down for me / Should’ve kept every grocery store receipt / ‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me,” lines that will leave a dry eye only in houses that have never known death. The piece de resistance in its poignance is Swift actually resurrecting faint audio clips of Marjorie, who was an opera singer back in the day. It’s almost like ELO’s “Rockaria,” played for weeping instead of a laugh. Swift has not given up, thank God, on the medium that brought her to the dance — the breakup song — but most of them here have more to do with dimming memories and the search for forgiveness, however slowly and incompletely achieved, than feist. But doesn’t Swift know that we like her when she’s angry? She does, and so she delves deep into something like venom just once, but it’s a good one. The ire in “Closure,” a pulsating song about an unwelcome “we can still be friends, right?” letter from an ex, seems so fresh and close to the surface that it would be reasonable to speculate that it is not about a romantic relationship at all, but a professional one she has no intention of ever recalling in a sweet light. Or maybe she does harbor that a disdain for an actual former love with that machinelike a level of intensity. What “Evermore” is full of is narratives that, like the music that accompanies them, really come into focus on second or third listen, usually because of a detail or two that turns her sometimes impressionistic modes completely vivid. “Champagne Problems” is a superb example of her abilities as a storyteller who doesn’t always tell all: She’s playing the role of a woman who quickly ruins a relationship by balking at a marriage proposal the guy had assumed was an easy enough yes that he’d tipped off his nearby family. “Sometimes you just don’t know the answer ‘ Til someone’s on their knees and asks you / ‘She would’ve made such a lovely bride / What a shame she’s fucked in the head’ / They said / But you’ll find the real thing instead / She’ll patch up your tapestry that I shred.” (Swift has doubled the F-bomb quotient this time around, among other expletives, for anyone who may be wondering whether there’s rough wordplay amid Dessner’s delicacy — that would an effing yes.) “‘Tis the Damn Season,” representing a gentler expletive, gives us a character who is willing to settle, or at least share a Christmas-time bed with an ex back in the hometown, till something better comes along. The pleasures here are shared, though not many more fellow artists have broken into her quarantine bubble this time around. Besides Haim’s cameo, Marcus Mumford offers a lovely harmony vocal on “Cowboy Like Me,” which might count as the other country song on the album, and even throws in something Swift never much favored in her Nashville days, a bit of lap steel. Its tale of male and female grifters meeting and maybe — maybe — falling in love is really more determinedly Western than C&W, per se, though. The National itself, as a group, finally gets featured billing on “Coney Island,” with Matt Berninger taking a duet vocal on a track that recalls the previous album’s celebrated Bon Iver collaboration “Exile,” with ex-lovers taking quiet turns deciding who was to blame. (Swift saves the rare laugh line for herself: “We were like the mall before the internet / It was the one place to be.) Don’t worry, legions of new Bon Iver fans: Dessner has not kicked Justin Vernon out of his inner circle just to make room for Berninger. The Bon Iver frontman whose appearance on “Folklore” came as a bit of a shock to some of his fan base actually makes several appearances on this album, and the one that gets him elevated to featured status again, as a duet, the closing “Evermore,” is different from “Exile” in two key ways. Vernon gets to sing in his high register… and he gets the girl. As it turned out, the year 2020 did not involve any such waiting for Swift fans; it’s an embarrassment of stunning albums-ending-in-“ore” that she’s mined out of a locked-down muse.

[et-lesailes]

lockdown lust

pairing: johnny storm x reader

word count: 3270

summary: video chatting with your best friend johnny during quarantine turns a bit steamy.

themes: smut

taglist: @evanstush​​, @tanyam93​​, @bval-1​​, @wonderwinchester​​, @patzammit​​, @rohaintahquil​​, @deidrashouseofpain​​, @sammyslonglostshoe​​, @jadedhillon​​, @bohemian-barbie​​, @whysparker​​, @sebastian-i-stan​​, @sebabestianstan101​​, @lille-kattunge​​, @teller258316​​, @peach-acid​​, @allsortsofinterests​​, @xoxabs88xox​​, @heyiamthatbitch​​, @cptn-sgrogers​​, @heyyouwiththeassbutt​​, @bangtan-serendipity​​, @troublermalik​​, @beardburnsupersoldiers​​, @bookish-shristi​​, @kind-sober-fullydressed​​,  @gingerninjaprincess16​​, @straightforwardly​​,  @denisemarieangelina​​,  @frencchfries​​, @xlanawriter​​, @littlemoistcarrot​​, @pottxrwolff​​, @arianatheangelworld​​, @ifuseekamyevans​​, @southerngracela​​, @nsfwsebbie​​, @rororo06​​, @savemesteeb​​, @raveviolet​​, @inactivewhore​​, @hurricanerinwrites​​, @captainamerica-is-bae​​, @shaddixlife​​, @tessa-bl​​, @marvelouspottering​​, @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc​​, @thegetawaywriter​​, @dwights-new-plague​​​, @rynabarnesrogers​​​, @fckdeusername​​​

notes: man i wish my quarantine was going like this. graphic creds go to the @thewritingdoll​, also patreon saw this first! click here to join :)

You’re laying on your side on your bed, dressed in a simple tank top and shorts with your sports bra just barely peeking out from either side of your shirt, clicking through YouTube video after YouTube video on your laptop. Ever since being unemployed thanks to the pandemic, each day is the same as the previous. Wake up, eat breakfast, watch TV, play some video games, eat lunch, read, try and teach yourself a new language, sit outside on the deck for a bit, eat dinner… you’re slowly going crazy not having anything productive to do, but it at least helps being able to chat with your friends via FaceTime and Zoom. It’s rather depressing being alone and stuck at home, but one of your best friends in particular manages to help quite a lot. Even though Johnny’s going just as crazy as you are, he’s still his fun loving, goofy, and energetic self, and it’s safe to say he knows how to cheer you up whenever you’re feeling the quarantine blues.

A notification pops up on your screen indicating that he’s video calling you, and you gladly answer. “Hey there, gorgeous.” He greets you in his typical flirtatious fashion- as usual, he’s shirtless (you’re assuming also only in underwear) and lounging back in his bed with a beer in one hand. “Fuck, I’m so bored. What are you up to?” You laugh softly, sighing as you look at the YouTube videos on the side of your screen. “Literally nothing. Honestly considering just going to sleep because I have nothing else to do.” 

“You know what I miss?” he suddenly speaks up rather than responding to you, taking a swig of his beer. “Sex. No, I miss even just touching a girl. Like even if it’s a fucking handshake. I’m starting to think I should have just picked a quarantine girlfriend so I could get some action.” You blink and laugh, shaking your head to yourself though you can’t help but admit you understand the feeling. “I’m not gonna lie, I definitely miss the feeling of having someone in the bed with me.” You don’t have a boyfriend, but you did sometimes have a fling every now and then. As Johnny said, though, it’s not just about sex. You simply miss the comforting, reassuring feeling of having a male’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to his body in his slumber. 

“Yeah? So have you been masturbating a lot?” he asks bluntly, and you laugh; you and Johnny are extremely close, and so questions like these never throw you off or make you uncomfortable. “Kind of, yeah, but I’m sure nowhere near as much as you.” You tease with a smirk, and he snickers in return. “Touche, darling. I can’t help it, okay? I have a high sex drive.” He suddenly arches a brow, lifting his drink up slightly. “Hello, why am I the only one drinking? Go get some alcohol, c’mon!” You roll your eyes fondly at his severe ADD, but nod your head. “Alright, alright, be right back.”

You return a few moments later with a glass of wine, settling into your previous position laying on your side and propped up on your elbow, sipping from your glass. “Happy now?” you ask, and he scoffs playfully. “Wine? What are you, forty?” You blink and laugh loudly, making a face. “Beer makes my stomach feel weird! It’s all… carby or whatever.” He hums thoughtfully before reaching out of the frame to pick up something- a bottle of liquor. “Okay, what about shots?”

You look at him in amusement and disbelief, but honestly, you actually feel a little sympathy for him. He just wants company; he’s an incredibly social guy who absolutely loves going out, clubbing, dancing, and meeting new people- of course he just wants a drinking buddy right now. “Alright, alright, I literally just settled down but I’ll get out of bed again just for you.” You wrinkle your nose at him and he cheers happily, pumping his fist in the air. “Hell yeah, that’s my girl! Hurry now before my buzz dies down.” You chuckle softly and get up again, setting your wine down and going back to the kitchen to retrieve a bottle of fruit flavored rum. It’s probably going to be a long night if Johnny’s this hyped up already, but you’re actually looking forward to it. You really do love talking to him, especially during this period of time.

An hour flies by without you even realizing it. You’ve been drinking with Johnny the whole time, laughing and chatting and joking around with each other as you usually do; there’s no one who can make you smile as much as he does. His enthusiasm and rowdiness is contagious- you’ve felt so groggy and lazy during these lockdown days, but he always knows how to snap you right back. 

“Hey, Y/N.” Johnny reaches over to grab another can of beer from the table and you catch even more of a view of his rippling abs. “Yeah?” you ask, wondering just how much you’ve drank to actually be checking Johnny out. You can acknowledge he’s an attractive guy, but he’s only been a friend to you all this time- for some reason, you never really entertained the thought of anything more. Perhaps because you’ve seen the way he is with women; not necessarily bad or toxic, but not exactly boyfriend material either. 

“Let’s play a game.” He suggests, giving you a little smirk. “How about Never Have I Ever?” You blink but smile, nodding your head. “Alright, sure. Wanna start?” He suddenly lifts a hand, shaking his head. “Uh uh uh, hold on. This version of the game has a catch.” He downs the rest of his beer before wiping his lips with the back of his hand, grinning at you mischievously. “For every single thing you have done, you have to take off an article of clothing.” 

“What? You know, like, everything I’ve done!” you argue in amusement, and he grins, wiggling his eyebrows. “And you know everything I’ve done. So? C’mon, it’ll be fun. But we can’t do stupid stuff, like “Never have I ever kissed a girl” or “watched hardcore porn”. It has to be more specific.”

You roll your eyes but find yourself agreeing. “Okay. Fine. Shouldn’t you, like, maybe put on clothes first though? You know, so you actually have something to take off?” He blinks and looks down at his half naked body before laughing loudly. “Oh yeah, good point!” You watch as he stands up, eyes directly met with his boxers as he goes to grab a shirt, pants, and even socks and a watch. “You are ridiculous,” you remark, taking a sip of your wine though giggling nonetheless. As always, he knows just how to make you laugh. 

“Alright, I’ll start.” Johnny gets himself comfortable again, dressed in a simple wifebeater and basketball shorts. “Never have I ever… gotten so drunk as a freshman at a college party that I ended up making my really handsome best friend carry me all the way back to my dorm.” You blink and laugh loudly making a face, whining playfully, “Johnny! God, you didn’t even go to school there, why were you there anyways?”

“To carry your ass back home. Now go on, get stripping.” You scoff but take off your tank top, revealing your patterned sports bra underneath. You see him staring and for some reason, you actually feel… excited. This has to be the alcohol, right? You clear your throat, tossing the top aside. “My turn. Never have I ever had sex with someone new five minutes after breaking up with my significant other.” You fire bluntly, the corner of your lips tugging upwards. He laughs, shaking his head to himself. “In my defense, we had only been dating for two weeks, and she went psycho on me. You remember! Right?”

“Just take off the shirt, Johnny.” You laugh, and he arches a brow, playfully retorting, “Wow, bossy. I like it, baby.” He lifts off the wifebeater revealing his abs once again, and you force yourself not to look at them- you know he’d make a comment otherwise. “If we’re going to bring sexcapades into this,” he murmurs thoughtfully, “never have I ever been caught hooking up in a movie theater.” You immediately blush, hiding your face. “Why did I ever tell you about that? It was barely hooking up, it was just making out! And you’ve done that several times at the movies, there’s no way you haven’t.”

“I have, but I’ve never been caught.” He winks and nods towards you. “So, the bra?” You roll your eyes and shake your head, shifting yourself so you’re sitting up on your knees to wiggle out of your shorts. You’re thankful you at least put on some cute underwear today, looking down at the sky blue material with little tiny icons of penguins on it. Johnny shamelessly looks too, chuckling softly. “Wow. Those are fucking precious.” He barely bites on his lip though as he keeps staring, and you feel yourself blushing deeper, quickly settling yourself back down again. 

It’s obvious where this game’s heading. Both of you know it. You don’t know if it’s because of the alcohol, or the fact that you’re just extremely sex deprived, but you’re completely fine with how this night will end. It’s just a fun little game. Nothing wrong with that.

“My turn.” You snap him out of whatever daydream is running through his head, raising an eyebrow. “Never have I ever dated a freaking supermodel.”

“Is that jealousy I hear in your voice, Y/N?” he teases, but easily kicks off his basketball shorts. “No. Also why aren’t you just taking off your socks and the watch first?” you ask, and he grins, shrugging playfully. “I’m perfectly fine with just chilling with my dick out wearing nothing but a few accessories. What’s wrong with that?” You shake your head to yourself, though you can’t help but find the thought hilarious. How this boy became so bold and confident, you have no idea, but you have to admit it’s even a bit inspirational at times.

“Okay,” Johnny begins, taking a drink of his beer. He looks more excited now, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “Never have I ever had sex with a long term significant other.” You blink and make a soft incredulous noise. “You’ve never even had a long term significant other!”

“That’s right, baby girl! Which is it gonna be, the bra or the panties?” 

“Neither.” You smirk and bring your feet into view, wiggling your toes in the fuzzy socks you had been wearing. “I’m guessing someone here doesn’t have a foot fetish at least, because you didn’t even notice that I’m wearing socks.” Johnny groans in playful annoyance as you take them off, crossing his arms. “Fine, you got me there. Your turn.”

You have to pause for a second. Not to think of what you’re going to say- God, you know Johnny better than he does, you could write a book of all the bullshit he pulls. No, you have to pause because this is where things are going to start getting intense. You’re going to see your best friend naked, and he’s going to see you naked. Both of you are horny out of your minds. Both of you are intoxicated. Do you really want to go through with this? 

“Hello? You there?” he asks impatiently, in classic Johnny fashion. You swear the boy has the attention span of a turkey.

“Never have I ever had a wet dream about my best friend.” You suddenly speak, looking at him intently- he looks at you in surprise for a few moments, but before he can move, you’re suddenly the one slowly lifting your sports bra up and over your head, your breasts moving up with it before lightly bouncing down.

He’s completely speechless, his eyes on your chest as if he’s never seen boobs before, his facial expression getting more and more serious from shock. “Holy…” he finally mumbles, nibbling on his lip. You’ve never seen him look so hungry, so full of desire, and it’s only turning you on. There’s a certain thrill and adrenaline rush that comes with getting intimate with someone you’re “not supposed” to, and you’re definitely feeling that buzz right now. 

“Well?” you ask softly, tilting your head to one side. “I have. Have you?” You’re taking a big chance here, but considering what a sleazeball Johnny can be, you’re certain it’s had to have happened at least once. He looks at you for a few moments before slowly smirking, moving his hands down…

… only to take off his socks. Your expression is one of complete disbelief as you’re about to ask him if he’s actually serious, but then he goes to take off his watch. After that, he moves his hands to the hem of his boxers and pushes them down- his erection jumps up, tall and thick, and you can feel the heat in your core simply from looking at it. He lounges back against his headboard, completely nude, his chest visibly heaving slightly from excitement.

You clear your throat trying not to be too obvious about staring at it. “Why’d you… um… why did you take more than one thing off?”

He leans over and he’s out of the frame for a second. You hear the sound of hands rubbing together. Lotion. “Because I’ve had more than one wet dream.” He answers simply upon returning, keeping his eyes on you as he slowly wraps his hand around his cock. “Do you want to hear about one?” You widen your eyes, now only paying attention to this shaft at this point, watching him pump himself slowly. Fuck, you’re so turned on right now. “Yes,” you breathe out, starting to shift uncomfortably as you subconsciously rub your thighs together.

“In the dream you were dating that dumb ex of yours. I can’t even remember his fucking name anymore. The one I hated, you know who I’m talking about.” Johnny begins, eyes briefly roaming your body on his screen. “I came over one day and he was out somewhere. You were wearing this sexy ass lingerie, to surprise him when he got back. When I walked in, you just immediately jumped up on me without realizing it was me- when you did, you looked all shocked, but I just kept holding you in my arms.” He breathes heavier, starting to pump faster. “We start kissing. Making out. My tongue’s practically down your fucking throat, my hands squeezing your perfect ass, I bring you into the bedroom.”

Your cheeks feel flushed and your own breaths are becoming a little more uneven, completely focused on everything he’s saying. “Then what?” you whisper; you don’t even realize your hand is moving to your breast. He lets out a groan simply from watching you, continuing, “I push you down on your hands and knees on the bed and slap your ass so hard, it leaves a mark. I tell you that you belong to me now, and that I don’t care if your boyfriend has to watch us fuck for me to prove that.” He stares at you as you start massaging your breast, watching in awe as your fingers pinch your nipple ever-so-slightly. “Fuck, you like this, don’t you baby girl? After that, I finger fuck you over and over again, I make you cum so goddamn many times. You’re fucking screaming by the end of it, you’re still on your hands and knees like a good girl, your face is against the mattress and your perky little butt’s up in the air for me. You fucking love every second of it.” He grits his teeth slightly as he keeps pumping, eyes dark with lust. “Then you want to know what happens next?”

“Y-yes, yes Johnny, please,” you practically moan, now practically trying to squeeze your thighs together to relieve the frustration. “Then take off your panties,” he suddenly demands, and you instantly obey, wiggling them off your legs. “Sit up so I can see your pussy,” he growls huskily. You adjust the laptop so that it’s in front of you, sitting and leaning back with your legs spread so that your bare entrance is in view, resting yourself on your elbows breathlessly. “I’m so fucking wet, Johnny,” you whine, moving your hand down your torso and using your fingers to start rubbing yourself. “Please, please keep going…”

“God damn,” he groans deeply, the mere noise in itself making you shiver in pleasure. “After I have you cumming over and over again, I grab your hair and thrust inside you, holding your ass and smacking it whenever I fucking want.” You let out a moan as you push one finger inside, tilting your head back. “Your tight little pussy felt so fucking good around me, babe. I had my big dick poking out your goddamn belly from how hard and deep I fucked you. I was tugging your hair, choking you, spanking you, playing with those perfect tits- you made the perfect little fuckdoll, so obedient, so damn needy.” He smirks, hand moving up and down faster, staring at you play with yourself as he murmurs, “Just like how you are now, hm?”

“Fuck, Johnny,” you whine breathlessly, pushing another finger in and pumping even faster. “I need you right now, o-oh… oh my God. I need your big dick inside me right fucking now…”

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he groans just from hearing you, rolling his neck to one side and shutting his eyes, head tilted upwards. “Would you cum all over my dick, just like you did in my dream?” You gasp, nodding immediately, lips parted and cheeks pink. “Yes! Yes… fuck… I want you to cum inside me, too…” He grins wider, chest heaving as he watches you weakly, hand working his long length intensely. “I can definitely do that, baby girl… o-ooh fuck, I’m close… I’m going to fucking cum right now…!”

“Me too!” you cry out, leaning against the headboard and rubbing hard; it’s not long before Johnny gets a view of you releasing, and the sight is enough to set him off with a loud groan- you can’t help but stare at how much he cums, wishing you could be there to taste all of it. 

“God damn.” He slowly exhales, leaning back entirely. “That was… wow. I fucking needed that.” He barely straightens up to grab a tissue from his nightstand, cleaning his mess but glancing up at you breathing heavily. “And especially with you. You’re so hot, Y/N, I’ve wanted to fuck you ever since I met you.” You widen your eyes surprised, trying to catch your breath as you stare at him. “What? Really…? I… I didn’t think you saw me like that, we were always just such… best friends.”

“Yeah. That’s why I didn’t do anything.” He admits, carelessly tossing the tissue aside, but you’re too shocked to even show any disgust. “You’re the only girl friend I’ve had. I didn’t want to treat you like everyone else. But fuck, it’s been hard.” He pauses and nods towards his length, “This has been too, every time I’m around you.”

Despite the otherwise serious conversation, you can’t help but laugh, even feeling somewhat flattered. You move to sit more comfortably, biting your lip. “Well then,” you mumble tilting your head, “maybe on the next video call I can tell you about my dream…”

[vtforpedro]

health update- long post

so we are still trying to figure out all my health shit. I just now started to lose a couple pounds again but still feeling bloated and crampy every day. my right arm looks slightly swollen and hurts + my purple nail beds that literally sparked this entire thing way back on dec 20th, 2019 or w/e that no doctor has acknowledged have gotten darker and now clearly noticeable to other people. been seeing it for nearly 16 months myself but I stopped asking after like a year cause they ~couldn't see it~ in bright ass medical offices and didn't bother investigating further cause You Seem Anxious™ n e ways, I had to call the paramedics on march 29th cause I got so lethargic I felt like someone had drugged me. could barely sit up, speech was slow, could NOT open my eyes, felt like it was hard to breathe. took me three minutes to stand up with a paramedic's help AND I knew if I tried to walk I'd fall. almost fell twice in a row a week beforehand, tho the fatigue wasn't as severe. sorry if I've mentioned this already I don't fucking have any brainpower anymore to remember what I've talked about and haven't have experienced two more bouts of sudden, extreme lethargy, the pain/swelling in my arm isn't going away, purple nail beds, etc etc. so went to my PCP and barely got halfway through explaining everything that was happening and she's like 'yeah so I want you to do labs today' and sent a referral for a vascular ultrasound. so every artery/vein from the big ones in my neck down to my arms and to the tiny ones in my fingers sooo my labs became available for me to see tonight in the lab portal, but my doctor set me up for an appt on monday to 'discuss them' and I was like ok either the labs or the vascular ultrasound is abnormal. OR BOTH yeah, it's probably both. I'm sure doctor's hate that we can view our labs before talking with them but I actually like having an idea of what's wrong instead of being blindsided lmao I knew I had leukemia before my doc told me I did and it was much easier to handle after sitting with it for a few days beforehand so yeah pretty sure I'm really vitamin d deficient, if I'm reading it right, which she was concerned about, plus, again if I'm reading it right, I have a whole ass, brand new incurable autoimmune disorder that honestly sounds like it sucks more than the fucking cancer I have c: c: c: I don't know 100% if I have this but it seems pretty likely and would explain a lot of things going on (not the head stuff, which is very likely still IIH, but the bloating + inability to lose weight, which can be helped so I can continue losing weight to hopefully help the fucking IIH) my body is just. breaking down and trying to kill me at every turn, I swear. like what's the point anymore, nothing ever gets better lol I have no life to live, just chronic disability that's agonizing day in and day out. what's. the. fucking. point. this can be 'managed' but will always steadily worsen over time because it can't be cured sooo,,,,,,, I don't want to do this anymore, I truly don't. I've been telling my mom for six years every time I turn a corner it's something worse and that was for psychological trauma, but now it's turned into trauma caused by debilitating and declining health issues. I don't want to do this anymore did labs on monday for my hematologist to check where the cancer numbers are, I expect that one to take a while to get back. if the cancer numbers are detectable, I can't even treat it (and don't want to since, as my hema put it, the treatment can't be worse than the disease and chemo tried to kill me like three times) yet another thing I could've possibly been treating 16 months ago (third potential thing but You Seem Anxious™ sure delays diagnosis, seems like they should fix that, huh???) as an aside, this is the second time I've read POSITIVE (reference range: NEGATIVE) on my labs and it's not a great feeling guys NOT GREAT AT ALL all of this is happening during a pandemic so I haven't seen my family in over a year and I've seen my brother like twice? since last march? I kinda feel

like I'm never going to see them again at all. haven't eaten in my fave restaurants or gone to a movie. idk it just really feels like these aren't things I'm ever going to experience again got three MRIs scheduled on the 16th to see if my chiari/anything else has worsened. it feels like it has. I'm losing mobility in my neck and it's becoming harder to walk, so if that's any worse or if brain surgery is recommended, idk what I'll do cause I'm not doing that :) it's too risky considering everything else. I'm constantly stuck in a place that no matter which direction I go I face further harm, so what can even be done? I'm sorry. I'm sorry these are always depressing and hopeless, but I don't know how to feel hope anymore. we'll see what my pcp says on monday, but it's not looking good I'm truly sorry if I bring you all down with these posts. it's the only place I can put all my messy thoughts and feelings without feeling judged. thank you, all the same, for listening and offering words of encouragement and hope where I don't have any love you all very, very much. thanks for always being there for me <3

[shinydocsberrytea]

12/15/21 3:33pm - today i found a screenshot in my camera roll that was from 7th or 8th grade. it was a screenshot of a website that said “2 week diet - lose all your body fat!” & obviously young me thought that sounded amazing. i’ve tried a lot of different things since then. i did the keto diet freshmen yr, lost 15 lbs & gained it back & more. did keto sophomore yr & lost 15 lbs & gained it back & more. i started high school around 150lbs & ended around 180. but that’s really only bc i developed a binge eating disorder at the beginning of the pandemic & i wasn’t able to even admit i had a problem until 15 months later. my parents have no idea that i ever had a binge eating disorder. they don’t know i’m anorexic now. i never experienced high school at a healthy weight. it wasn’t until i graduated where i tried keto for the 3rd time. i went 4 months w/o cheating on my diet a single time & lost 45 lbs. i think it’s because that time, i wasn’t dieting bc i hated the way i look. (that’s why i did it in the past & i always ended up deciding i looked fine and quitting.) in june i started dieting bc my mom told me i couldn’t wear the shirt i had on to the beach bc i looked terrible & my fat was hanging out. i had such an intense panic attack bc i remember feeling confident that day & had thought i looked great. & my dad sitting in silence clearly meant he agreed w her. she had never been so direct before. yeah they’ve both made comments abt my weight & what i eat my entire life but never something so upfront. that’s how i knew my weight had gotten past the point of acceptable a long time ago. this was just the 1st time someone was fucking honest w me. i had been sleepwalking through my life for months. i would wake up & eating was the 1st thing i thought of. i isolated myself & hoarded food in my room. i would eat like 5-12 full meals a day & probably like 3000-5000 cals daily. i ate until it hurt. i would only hangout w my friends that ate super large portions of unhealthy food. i look back at pictures of myself from senior year & almost wish my mom had told me that earlier. yeah it’s sad that it took other people telling me how unattractive i was for me to change but that was the only thing that worked. i look & feel so much better & happier now. & i’d binge every single day bc i would always smoke weed before i ate so i could just keep eating & eating. i’ve been smoking weed since i was 15 & i basically smoke weed daily. so when i developed BED i blamed it only on the disorder itself when in actuality, i would never have been able to eat that much everyday w/o pot. part of me definitely knew that at the time. but the thought of giving up weed was so terrifying bc i have pretty severe anxiety & PTSD & probably ocd & some minor anger issues so being a normal person w/o weed sounded extremely daunting. but since early nov my binging has been out of control. this is bc in oct i had cheated on my diet for the 1st time in months & once i did that, returning to never cheating was impossible. also the dining hall at my college is basically just a buffet. u can go back however many times. & there’s always desserts. i came home for xmas break in the middle of a week long binging episode. i was addicted to all the things i was consuming so i thought to myself, i’ll just binge 4 the entirety of xmas break. there’s so much good food at my house that i don’t have to pay for. but then i had a super long talk w my gf sunday night, & i explained in my last post how that altered my perspective. sunday was the last time i smoked weed. this is my first voluntarily break from weed in yrs. i gained 15 lbs before & at the start of xmas break. but since i stopped smoking i’ve lost 10lbs. it’s fucking insane, i’ll eat healthy food when i’m hungry & stop when i’m full. i haven’t experienced normal hunger signals in yrs. it’s incredible. i’ll start smoking weed again when i go back to college, but my goal is to smoke b4 sex, car rides w loud music, playing the piano, etc. instead of getting high just to eat. food is just a small part of life.

[fanfictiondreamscape]

Where the Hell am I? (pt. 1)

Title: Where the Hell am I? (pt. 1) 

Genre: comedy, lil floofy (if you squint, I promise), and a lil dramatic - mostly comedic, though. 

Pairing: Aizawa Shota x Reader

Notes: This is, yet again, an idea that was pitched to me by one of my friends over Snapchat. I did take some liberties, contrary to their idea, but I read it and I just HAD to do it. 

Frankly, it made me so happy! I thought that I’d split this, maybe not, but if you want another character (or characters) for this prompt - please let me know!

Some warnings, though; there will be plenty of swearing, so proceed with caution! The reader is also aged up, 21+ purely for the comfort of the writer. I imagine them to be around 24-25, but go about it however you like! 

Below the cut! 

“You really need to stop watching that childish garbage, y’know. You’re too old for that.”

“Grow up already! People your age don’t watch shit like that!” 

“None of that will help you get by in life; stop watching that and get your life together already!”

AKA, things I, (Y/n) (L/n) hear on a daily basis. 

Hello, dear reader! I’m (Y/n), as you’ve already presumed, and according to my family and friends, I waste my time watching what they call ‘immature junk’. I like to call it anime, but whatever floats their boat. 

I have graduated from college, but I still live with a couple of roommates. My diploma has been sitting on the stack of boxes in the corner of my junk, and no matter how hard I’ve tried, the degree has never seemed to win over anybody in the field.

I’ve struggled with a job hunt for a while now, and I’m getting tired of trying to find something that can tie me over for a little while. I know that the job wouldn’t last, something that has followed me around for the longest time no matter how well I completed any given tasks, but I need something to pitch to the split rent. 

I like to think that my roommates haven’t thought of kicking me to the curb as well, but frankly, they’ve probably found a way to do that or leave my ass sat on the empty apartment floor. Whatever the case, things haven’t been working out well for me at all. 

I’ve been broke on and off as of late, and the only things I have managed to keep consistent was my laptop ownership, my phone ownership, and my clothing and personal items. I’ve been making sure that I have cut back on using many things, but it was starting to bite me now. 

Today, of all days, was the one day that everything was seemingly coming to a head. My roommates were both at each other’s throats and took their frustration out on me (for no reason, honestly - I had already paid my portion of the utilities for the the month and had stayed quiet), my mom had just been admitted to the hospital, and my sibling has been taunting me from her fancy-schmancy upscale home by calling me a loser, deadbeat, etc. - all in all, a shitty day. 

Normally, things like this wouldn’t bother me that much (aside from the pandemic confirmation), but this has been a long time coming and I was at my breaking point. 

That night, I had just let everything be. Not a good thing considering the note that they were left on, but I can’t deal with the presence of people that are immature assholes that haven’t been taught to face your issues head-first, and I am too tired to put up with it anymore. 

I grabbed my laptop and opened up my Funimation account. If I could trust no one in the physical world, then I could trust someone in the fictional world instead. 

I had scrolled through, but when I saw that I had watched everything I planned to, I made the final decision to rewatch one - that anime being Boku No Hero Academia, I was pretty content to watch these teenagers grow in a way that I was unable to - nostalgic value in the anime can be spotted, but you have to look closely. 

The opening narration by Deku had started, and as the episodes continued, I got tired. I don’t remember when this happened, but I think I actually fell asleep around episode 5. No matter, things started to blur and I slept. 

...

Everything felt warm and windy, my clothes were brushing against my hands, and I felt extremely groggy. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Well, except for the fact that I felt like I was sleeping on a literal rock, and it was seemingly moving. 

The rocking of whatever it was I was laying on was what woke me up completely, all the sleep forgotten in favor of figuring out what the object was. Looking down, it seemed to be a sheet of metal, and my god - did it stink. ‘Am I laying down in a dumpster?’

After looking down, I did indeed find out that I was sleeping near one. Or in one. Whatever fits, I guess. 

Everything about this situation seemed like I had, somehow, fallen into a blackout drunk stupor. The likelihood of that happening, though, is very low - I have actively avoided any alcohol intake following my 21st birthday. And I had apparently decided to become an emotional drunk when I did reach that point, so that was even more unlikely. 

With that knowledge, this seemed especially fishy. I had to get to the bottom of it. 

I had slipped out of the area slowly, making sure to not accidentally cut my leg or arm on a raw metallic edge, and tread down the alley that I had been sleeping in. 

I didn’t recognize the buildings around me, everything seemed to be a lot more colorful and definitely an extremely far departure from the decrepit, run-down shithole that I had to call a ‘house’. The sky was also so much bluer than what I was used to. 

My parents and other family lived in better areas than I did, but that sky wasn’t what got me - it was the commotion that was coming from around the corner. The sound was so familiar, and I just couldn’t help but assume something crazy: did I land in the world of My Hero? 

‘No, no, no - that’s not possible. That can’t be possible. Your roommates have just lost their shit and threw you out on the street.’ That had to be it, it had to be. There was no other possible situation, though they would have just thrown my ass to the curb and not a dumpster in a generally clean city. 

Yeah, they couldn’t have done that. Or, maybe they did want to kick me out but realized that throwing me out in the dumpster would warrant some legal claims against them, so they decided to inform a family member that actually gave a damn. Then again, the one that was closest lived over two states away, so that also wouldn’t happen so quick. 

“Ugh, my head hurts...”

A crash sounded through the alleyway, and I had made the conclusion that if I don’t leave now, I would get crushed under debris. That being decided, I made a mad dash out of said alley to the opposite end of the sound.

As soon as I left, the obnoxious technicolor of it all made me do a double take. What the hell is with this color palette?

“Are you lost?” 

I jumped from the question. It wasn’t until I turned around that something hit me: yeah, this is most definitely N O T my world. 

The person that had inquired my direction status had a huge spike sticking out of either hand. Their head was shaped normally, their eyes were a dark blue color, and they had short hair. I couldn’t tell if they were male or female, or even non-binary, but I was too freaked out to care. Best bet for this situation, though, was to go with the flow no matter what happens. I refuse to risk my safety any further. 

“I, uh...um, yeah. Yeah, I am lost - but may I ask who wants to know?”

They breathed a sigh of relief, and their hands transformed into regular ones. The only explanation for this was that I was going crazy, or that I really landed in the world of My Hero. “Oh, thank god. I thought you were a villain for a second. Follow me before you get hit,” they said before they directed me further away from the soon-to-be-destroyed building. 

We had made some small talk - if you could even call it that - as we evacuated, and I found out that their name was Dylan. They were apparently an off-duty hero, though that could be left up to debate considering no hero would voluntarily reveal their identity to someone on the street. Though they could have also assumed that I was a regular citizen, as well. 

Didn’t help that I was still completely and utterly fucked on the front of knowledge - still confused, for a shorter explanation. 

The commotion was still very prevalent as I continued walking with Dylan, and when we finally reached the town, the volume was so much more deafening. The sight was as well. 

Two people were fighting in mid-air, one with a dark jacket and leather pants. Gloves were on their hands, but the big kicker was their mouth - it was almost warped into a joker smile, cuts and all, but it was full of teeth. Their eyes, from what I could see from my spot  on the ground, were very large and red. I wish I could have seen more, though. 

The other one was wearing some garb that mimicked Deadpool, though it was very obviously not him since there were some very obvious legs that were protruding from each side of their body. If I was observing them correctly, too, there were eight legs and multiple eyes. A spider hero? Like, a literal spider hero? 

“(Y/n), I’m sure that you’re curious and a little freaked out, but I’m going to ask that you stay here with the crowd,” Dylan said. They laid their hand on my shoulder as I stared at the view in front of me. I absently nodded, muttering a small and measly, “Got it,” as the realization of everything sunk in. 

I really am in the My Hero world. I really landed in a fictional world. 

Holy shit, I’m completely and totally screwed. 

There are so many things that could go wrong, so many things that would warrant a worry. Besides that, though, the thing that’s just hit me now that I know that I’m in their world is the most worrying. 

Whose quirk got so screwed that I got transported here? Do I have to find that person to return to my world? Even then, was this done on purpose? In that case, would they want to send me back? What if it’s a villain and they want something? So many things can go so severely wrong. 

I couldn’t leave my head now. I could, quite literally, die here and no one would notice. 

My blank stare didn’t go unnoticed by certain citizens around me, but their attention was soon diverted - as was mine - at the newest occurrence on the scene. The spider hero was dropping lower, the (supposed) villain was falling quickly to the floor, and another hero stood above the two on top of a nearby building. Cheers erupted through the crowd as the commotion was met with flashing lights, news reporters, and gossip writers. 

It took a second for me to notice, but the other hero on the building was Kamui Woods. Though I would later find this out, too, Mt. Lady was taking care of the runaway villain - she blew up larger with said villain in her hands a bit away from the scene with a triumphant smirk. 

Though there was some slight commotion from the shaken media reporters, they quickly fell back into their goals and started to plow through the crowd. People were being pushed left, right, and forward.

Through this chaos, though, I noticed Dylan pushing against the people looking winded. Eventually, they made it to me while panting. “Okay, so,” they began, “We should probably leave now, but I want to ask you some questions.”

I shrugged, taking a deep breath. “You need to ask, fire away. I need some answers anyway.”

We settled on a nearby restaurant, Dylan offering to pay for whatever food I ordered, and got down to the questions. 

“I noticed that you were stiff when you saw the fight. It wasn’t the normal kind of stiff, either.” 

Dylan’s words seemed off. How could they see a difference in shock between me and the citizens? A villain attack is a villain attack, right? 

“It was more...upset, for lack of a better word. What’s going on with that?” they inquired, making me stiffen. I didn’t realize that I was that odd in the crowd.

I wasn’t sure how to phrase my answer, but I had to say something. Unless I said it straight out, this would probably be a failure to explain. And people may look at me like I’ve lost it. 

“Well...I...”

Dammit.

I’ve just gotta say it. 

“I think I’ve been transported between realities. This one isn’t mine, I fell asleep in a dingy apartment, woke up here, and I’m-”

“Okay, I think I have an idea of what’s going on. I could help you, but it may take some time. Until then, let’s find a way to make sure that you don’t get screwed while you’re here, sound good?”

I breathed a sigh of relief, thankful. Then the thought hit me.

“Wait, how would you know? How can I trust you? Prove that you’re a hero, and then I’ll think about that offer.”

They chuckled a little, seemingly nonplussed, and reached for their hero license. After taking a look at it, I determined that this was a real license. You can’t get one unless you passed the exam, and even then, there are very few circumstances in which you can get one and not be a hero. 

“Getting closer, but still not there. I need more proof.”

Nodding again, they grabbed their cell and opened their messages in front of me. Their phone screen was face up, and they turned it to face me. I saw messages between Kamui and Dylan. I scrolled through the messages to make sure that they weren’t faked, and the image moved. 

“One more thing. If that’s the case, then tell me what your quirk is.”

“Well, my quirk is body morphing, or shape shifting. I can’t shift into anything that’s living, though - and I can’t keep up form for too long of a time. That enough for you?”

I paused, weighing the options - they’ve shown enough awareness, and they do have proof for what I provided, but how can I be sure that this isn’t just a ploy to trap a citizen and get the attention of the heroes? 

“Okay, here’s what I am gonna do - I’m going to trust you. I have nowhere else to go, nor do I have any idea as to why I’m here, and I can’t go about life here without some help,” I uttered, urgency (and possibly a little fear) in my tone of voice. 

With a nod, their bouncy curls following the action. They seemed satisfied, and I had finally found some sense of stability.

I can now figure this shit out. 

[gummyvitamin]

𝑸𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒆 + 𝑾𝒂𝒚𝑽 𝑺𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔: 𝑿𝒊𝒂𝒐𝒋𝒖𝒏

♡ 𝒌𝒖𝒏 𝒕𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒘𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒖𝒄𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒈

college classmate!xiaojun x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff; college au; friends to lovers

words: 984

*disclaimer: this post is not at all meant to undermine the severity of the pandemic; this is meant to help cheer up those who are bored or in low spirits because of quarantine. it is so so important to be mindful and do what we can to stop the spread. stay safe, please please wash your hands frequently, and help protect others by avoiding public spaces, wearing a mask and maintaining social distancing :)

so u had been super nervous during ur first semester of college 

but after u met xiaojun in ur 8am psych class, things instantly became better

he had quickly become ur closest friend

because hes such a caring soul

like oh ur having a meltdown because u bombed ur midterm?

boom he’s there in ur apartment with some words of encouragement and a shoulder to cry on

or ur “friends” decided to go out for kbbq without u?

well u and him are about to go on the biggest snack raid at ur local grocery store and then watch shitty romcoms all night in his apartment 😤

honestly it didn’t matter if u two had extravagant plans for the day or if u just ended up lying on the floor of his living room talking about the stars and the universe

being with him always made u feel better like he’s just so kind and softhearted and dammit u might be in love with him

so when ur school shut down for the rest of the semester and ur activities together had been abruptly cut short u honestly started to crash

and xiaojun picked up on this immediately bc even if u don’t tell him how ur feeling he Knows when ur not feeling great

so now he’s trying to think of a way to get u out of the house and feeling better 

and oh my god what better way to do that than with a nice little picnic!! :))

and so he’s hard at work making little snacks and picking out the softest blankets from his closet

he even went out and grabbed some extra little things u two could do together

and after he’s got everything put together he sends u a text that’s like “meet me by the lake by campus tomorrow at 11 :))”

and when u pull up to the lake the next morning and ur just like “!!! omg 🥺🥺🥺”

bc there by the lake is xiaojun along two fluffy blankets and various containers of snacks

and ur just so shocked bc wow he’s such a good guy:’)

so u take a seat on the blanket across from him and ur thanking him over and over for doing all this

and xiaojun tells u that he just really missed hanging out with u like this so he wanted to plan something nice w u!!

and yea he may be sitting 6 feet away from u but he’s smiling at u so cutely and his eyes r literally sparkling

and ur just basking in the good energy he’s sending ur way

and just when u think he’s pulled out all the stops my guy whips out a whole bunch of colorful paints

bc he knows u like to make art when ur stressed and he thought u guys could paint together 👉👈🥺

and so now u two are talking about ur lives in quarantine and painting little portraits of each other

and yea xiaojuns painting is a bit ~abstract~ bc he can’t draw for shit but that’s okay he’s just happy that ur happy and having a good time :’)

and u really were sososo happy to be outside enjoying the cool breeze and sounds of the lake water gently flowing beside u

but most importantly, u were just glad to be spending time with xiaojun again:’)

eventually the conversation dies down and ur both just lying down and staring up at the sky

and ur too busy making shapes out of the clouds floating by to notice that xiaojun is literally /sweating/ beside u

bc he had one more thing up his sleeve for this little outing,,he was gonna confess to u !!!

bc honestly he’s been head over heels for u for so long but he’s been sO nervous to tell u like what if u say no and then u start to hate him or something :((

but today he’s just saying fuck it bc it’s been on his mind for literally forever

plus there’s something a little less intimidating about having u sit 6 feet away for this exchange lol

and so xiaojun Finally sits up and calls out ur name

and ur like ??? and he just tells u to “catch” and tosses a small pink box into ur hands

u open the box and inside is this dainty little necklace with a small rose pendant hanging from the chain

and u look back up at xiaojun like “?!?” and lowkey his heart is about to fly out of his chest from beating so hard

and he’s kinda stumbling over his words but he eventually manages to collect his thoughts

and he’s like “y/n,,,,I hope you’re not weirded out by this but I’ve had feelings for you for such a long time now a-and like,,,I really just wanted to ask you out because I really really love being by your side”

and ur now just staring at him totally speechless and he’s thinking shit I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up

and u notice that he’s kinda starting to deflate and ur like “nononono im just so shocked because I never thought I would actually have a chance with you and I can’t believe the guy I like actually likes me back 😳”

and oH boY is xiaojun happy to hear this

like he’s smiling and blushing and he can’t even look u in the eye but he’s sososo relieved

and ur thinking like holy shit a cute boy just threw me a picnic and painted with me and then asked me out what kind of wattpad fic am I living in rn

eventually u both begin to talk excitedly about where u two are gonna go on ur first real date once quarantine is over

and then u spend the rest of the afternoon laying on ur back drifting off to sleep while xiaojun hums quietly by ur side :’)

[kickingitwithkirk]

Rain

Summary: After Supernaturals end Jensen’s life turned upside down. A year later an unexpected movie offer gives his career a second chance but it comes with an unexpected surprises.

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x OFC! Lili

Word Count: 839

Warnings: cursing, divorce, child custody, drinking, irritable Jensen

A/N:  I had an idea about a Jensen making movies again short series and wouldn't you know it, weird dream time. This story has components from my favorite W. Somerset Maugham short Rain and Lace by Shirley Conran.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

Prologue

Jensen is sitting on his back porch watching the sunset paint the horizon in pastel shades of orange and pink.

JJ and the twins left with Danneel half an hour ago after spending the last two weeks with him. Now he couldn’t be inside the too quiet house, feeling that it was somehow mocking him. Downing the last dregs of his beer he once again contemplated how he ended up here alone.

A year ago his life was incredible. Supernaturals extended last season came to its highly emotional end after delayment from the pandemic. He had talked it over with Danneel about the different options for his career: keep acting full time or concentrate more on his music, taking the occasional guest starring role and/or directing, allowing him to spend more time home with his family. He told her he was seriously considering the latter.

The first blow came days later over breakfast. Danneel simply announced she had fallen out of love with him and wanted a divorce.

The divorce had been mostly amicable. All she asked for was the lake house, half of their net worth and controlling interest in the brewery, you know, not much.

Jensen initially agreed to a quick divorce on two conditions: the bulk of the money would be put in trust for their children and shared custody. Danneel readily agreed but then she slipped up. A ill timed comment to her lawyer that Jensen wasn’t supposed to hear about the monthly child support revealed her true intentions.  It was at that moment he knew his choice.  

Jensen’s last minute curve ball was hanging up finalization, insisting on having primary custody with all holidays split equally between them, none of that you get them on this one and me the next crap. He had already missed so much of their young lives, he’d be damned losing out on anymore.

His next hit came in the form of several parts he was up for not panning out and his role on The Boys turned into a guest appearance in the season three finale then full time starting season four.

So here he sat on his back porch drinking beer as the Texas heat slowly waned, alone.

***

The front door slammed shut as a deep, honeyed voice called out, “Jack, you in,” followed by a heavy tread crossing the old oak wood floors into the kitchen, the fridge door opening, the sounds of bottles clinking briefly before it bangs shut.

A few seconds later Jared walks out the open French doors handing one to Jensen then drops onto the other Adirondack lounger, his large feet dangling off its end. “Dani picked up the kids already, thought they were staying till tomorrow?”

Jensen grunts before downing half the bottle in one go, “She said since it’s the twins first day of preschool wanted to make sure they got there, like I’m incapable of getting my own kids up, ready and there on time.”

“I’m sure she didn’t mean it that way…” Jensen gives him a you serious look, “but on second thought, knowing her, she did. Sorry.” Jared makes his my foots in my mouth expression and takes a drink.

“Naa, I’m the one that's sorry. It’s been one of those weeks, not the kids but Davis won’t stop calling, texting, keep telling him I not gonna consider that shitty script he’s been pushing. Man, the story lines on Days were helluva a lot better.”

Jared pulls off his beanie running a hand through his shortened hair, “Yeah, that’s kinda why I’m here. He left me a voicemail, said it was urgent you call him cause what he’s got is big, like Disney opening big...”

“Bullshit.”

“He sounds serious. Look, what’s it gonna hurt, give him five...” Jensen opens his mouth, “..two, give him two minutes and if it’s really BS, tell him fuck off.”

Jensen tips his head back against the chair staring at the porch roof. He really didn’t have the energy but knowing Jared, he would keep at him till he did it.

“Fine. I’m only doing it to shut you up.” Jared smiles happily kicking back, nursing his beer as Jensen gets up and goes into the house shutting the doors behind him. He can hear Jensen talking but can’t make out what was being said.

Jared finished his beer and is playing with the label when Jensen walked out with an expression he’d never seen before making him sit upright. “What’s wrong?”

He almost missed the chair sitting down and starting a string of unintelligent babbling; some movie, can’t be right, why cast me...“Jen..dude, your not making any sense and it’s starting to freak me out!” Jensen refocused on him.

“Holy shit! I’ve got a meeting Tuesday afternoon in LA with Zimmer!”

“Zimmer?” Jared furrowed his brow in concentration, running the name around his grey matter, that name, he knows it from where. “Whoa, do you mean Zimmer the director Zimmer?” Jensen can only mutely nod.

“Holy shit!”

tbc

tags: SPN @donnaintx​​

Dean/Jensen @flamencodiva​​

Rain @stoneyggirl​​