#now i just have to keep submitting consistently to people until they give up and let me in

[auggietopia]

green thirteen

i’ll be buried in my bedroom, filled with moss and torn by time. i flagged it with a grave marker back when i turned thirteen, and was sentenced to a social death because i was unclean; a large, unsightly thing. drown me in the reservoir. lay my weary bones to rest and leave me well alone or else, laugh at me in death when my ears can hear no more, or, at least, i can’t be told. after all, i’m stagnant water  with a film of ugly algae; sitting mildew since thirteen. i don’t want to be to blame for once. leave my bones to dust here until the end of time. no one will visit my deathbed and mutter amongst themselves “how on earth did they bury them up on the second floor?” and outside the window, the sky will be blue, and the grass freshly cut and crisp green.

[domainedewinter]

A night to learn - Part 2/2

Summary: Aemond woke up in the middle of the night to hear his brother running from the house, again. He found him and decided to give him what he needed to keep him with him.

Warnings: DUBCON, TYPICAL TARGARYEN INCEST, profanity, innuendo, he/him pronouns, , fingering, oral m receiving, toxic behaviour, SoftDom!Aemond, MxM, begging, nsfw.

Rating: 18+, MDNI

English is not my first language.

Aegon's moans filled the room in an utterly humiliating manner; If a few hours earlier he had known that he would find himself under his little brother, moaning like this, he would never have believed it.

Aemond was in private as he always was: meticulous and perfectly in control of himself and of the one in his hands. Aegon even wondered what experience his brother had to do this with such ease.

Because the very thought that his brother had slept with other people seemed incredible to him.

Aemond's hand had left the elder's cock to pull down his pants, growling in frustration, as if the fact that he was wearing clothes upset him. He took a moment to pull back his body and head, just enough to look at him and his gaze only burned Aegon’s skin in a new way. He felt his cheeks flush violently and turned his head over his shoulder when his mouth was free. “Aem.. what... are you..?”

“Shht, let me look at you. You’re not usually modest, why be so now.”

Aegon was not suffering from excessive modesty, he was simply not reassured to ignore his younger brother's thoughts.

Aegon swallowed hard, jumping when a hand wandered over his back and down to his ass, the fingers he himself had moistened coming to caress the entrance to his body. A breath caught in his throat and he tensed, but soon Aemond grabbed him by the hair again to pull his head back, making him groan.

“Relax. Since you run into dangers and strangers every night, I’ll make sure I find a way to put an end to this.”

As he spoke, his thumb pressed harder against his brother's puckered hole and Aegon wanted to lower his head and muffle his moans against the mattress, something Aemond did not allow him.

“Please…don’t…don’t hurt me.”

For a second, Aemond stopped moving, looking at him almost in shock, then furrowed his thin silver eyebrows. But soon, he regained consistency and pressed his burning chest against Aegon's stiff and almost trembling back, now drawing small circles against his entrance, forcing the elder's body to open for him.

His lips came to curl against his ear.

“If I want to hurt you, if I want to ravage your ass to the point you're unable to walk for the next few days, then I'll do it, again and again until you learn your lesson, brother.”

A sob of fear escaped Aegon who wanted to turn around, but once again, he was not allowed to do so, placing his hands against the mattress ready to struggle more if his little brother followed through on his threats. He was scared now, as scared as Aemond wanted him to be.

“But that’s not what I want to do to you. It will only be the last solution if the first does not put you in line.” With the tip of his tongue, he gently licked Aegon's earlobe, who shivered, this time with pleasure, and bit his lip, impatient to know what Aemond had in mind. “I’m going to take care of filling your pretty little ass, so full of me that you won’t be able to think about anything else. I’m going to make you cum so hard, feel so overwhelmed submitting to me and loving it, that you’ll never run outside again.”

As he finished his sentence, Aemond gave the elder no chance to respond, pushing his thumb fully into him several times before replacing it with his index and middle fingers, but Aegon leaned further on the bed, trying to escape the intrusion.

“Aemond, it’s too fast…slow down…you’re going too fast.” His voice was hoarse and breathless, the sensation making sweat bead on his body and it only made Aemond's predatory smile widen. “Nothing is ever too much for you, you always want more so believe me, I won’t stop until you are ready to welcome my cock inside you.”

Nibbling his ear now, he reveled in the way Aegon's ass clenched around his fingers and how, when he made a movement that was as calculated as it was precise, Aegon almost cried out with pleasure.

“Shh, there it is, that feels good doesn’t it? Now relax. I love hearing you scream but I want to make sure you're ready to take me inside you, because that's what you're going to do, right? Let me open your perfect ass until my cock can burn you from the inside out.”

A sinister, impatient laugh escaped him. “And you’re going to love it.”

Violently withdrawing his fingers, causing a certain frustration and incomprehension in Aegon, he stood up and quickly freed both of them of the last barriers that the clothes created around their bodies, the last barrier between them.

Aemond's long, thin fingers returned to tangle in his brother's shaggy hair as he stood up, placing the latter's face right in front of his manhood.

“Now make that mouth useful and make my cock nice, hard and wet enough to split you open.”

Aegon knew the moment he met his brother's gaze that this wasn't going to be gentle, that he wasn't going to take the same precautions with his mouth as he did with his ass but decided to not provoke him despite everything.

“Open your mouth, tongue out.”

He obeyed, and when Aemond's cock slid along his tongue, he could taste the salty taste of desire that must have been building in the younger brother during the last few minutes. Finding it strange at first, he began to close his lips around his brother's length and sucked, loving the weight of his desire on his tongue and the murmurs of pleasure it created from him. His hands came to grip his angular hips and quickly, Aemond made him speed up the movement, guiding his head as he wanted, and when he hit the back of his throat, he felt the heat tightening on him but was surprised not to see Aegon try to fight him off. Instead, he welcomed him as much as possible and let him fuck his face, tears rolling down his cheeks and his lips red and bruised from the assault.

“You do this very well, brother, really well. If I had known that your mouth could one day bring me so much pleasure.”

He chuckled darkly before picking his brother up and throwing him onto the bed. Aegon fell onto his back, panting, his face turned messy just as Aemond found he liked it. “Lie down, grab your legs under your knees and pull them up.”

Since Aegon seemed hesitant, understanding how open and vulnerable the position would make him, Aemond decided to take matters into his own hands, putting them under Aegon's knees and pushing until his knees touched his chest.

“Hold them.”

With an uncertain nod, Aegon obeyed and looked down to see his cock throbbing and leaking, his legs spread and his entrance on full display for his brother. He would then be able to use it exactly as he wished, his shameless eye looking where it would very soon sink into him.

Aemond spat into his hand, making a mental note to bring a more suitable lubricant for the next time because, next time there would be, and spread his saliva along his shaft, slowly before positioning the top of his cock to the entrance to his body.

“Eyes on me when I take what’s mine, watch me fuck you.”

The boldness and confidence of this man would always amaze Aegon, especially after knowing the uncertain and frightened little boy he had sometimes been.

Aegon's gaze locked with his, staring into his single lilac eye as he entered him, pushing all the way in, slowly but without stopping, not giving him time to adjust before he was completely in him, up to the hilt.

The vice of flesh around him was velvet, vibrating and burning and it was the best feeling Aemond had ever experienced. If until now he had already thought about starting again, he was now certain that he would never want to stop.

“Aemond!! It burns!”

“Breathe, love, breathe.” With his fingertips, he brushed back some silver curls that fell on his brother's forehead, caressing him gently just before leaning down and kissing him, swallowing the moan of pain that escaped his lips.

“Your body will get used to me. Let me make you feel good.”

His other hand snaked between their bodies to find his brother's cock and begin stroking it up and down, already finding it hard. With his thumb, he came to play on the top before starting again but still without moving inside of Aegon. 

He gave him a few indulgent seconds to adjust, his breath short and his heart pounding, until Aegon's tear-filled eyes soothed and his body relaxed, his hands roaming over his shoulders and he clings to him, nodding gently, giving Aemond the sign he had been waiting for to resume.

His thrusts were precise and deep, as if he were looking for something and, the minute he found it, a catlike smile appeared on his lips as he heard Aegon groan in surprise, his large lilac eyes wide with astonishment, questioning. 

“It’s good, right here, hm?

Another thrust and Aegon wondered why he found himself unable to contain his pleasure, why his whole body was numbed by this sensation he had never felt before and which electrified his body with desire.

He could feel his brother's manhood thrusting in and out of him with such force that he wondered if he would ever get up again. “The next time I fuck you, it will be on your hands and knees, and I will make you scream loud, so loud, I can’t wait to ravage your pretty little ass on display just for me.. but for tonight, I want to see your face, and I want to be sure that you see mine at the moment when you are completely lost in pleasure.”

A strange apprehension passed through Aegon's body, a pleasant fear, a promise that made him long for that next time to come.

But soon his thoughts had to cease their wandering, forcibly, because only pleasure had a place in his mind, completely clouded with it, having eyes only for his little brother who had become such a fierce man.

Aegon nodded frantically, tightening his grip on Aemond's shoulders.

“Aemond.. I.. I can’t hold on any longer, I feel weird.”

Of course he felt strange but since no one had ever done this to him before, he could only guess that he was going to cum, not used to feeling it from the inside.

Aemond's smile disappeared, giving way to the seriousness that usually characterized him when he relentlessly tapped, again and again on that spot that made Aegon scream.

“Hu-hu,” he scolded, “If you want to cum, ask politely.”

Aegon growled, hating being ordered around and never having had to belittle himself like this during an intimate act, usually being the one to say his words. However, he obeyed, feeling that Aemond's authority sent other electric and exhilarating waves through his body.

“Please, let me cum, please, please..” he began to whisper like a prayer and it was with indulgence that Aemond responded to his desire, fucking him and stroking his cock on the verge of exploding faster as he was pounding him from the inside.

Aegon arched his back, his breath caught and his moans swallowed by his brother as he came.

He didn't know how long the pleasure lasted through him but he could have put his hand to it as he had never had an orgasm so long and so good, so powerful.

A muffled moan from his plump, bruised lips echoed as his brother withdrew, and when he was finally able to open his eyes again, Aegon rolled onto his side, turning towards Aemond who was lying on his stomach, near him.

“Are you full enough of me to be calm now? Just know that if you’re not, the minute your unruly little mind wakes up again, I’ll be there to fuck you again.”

A slight and almost shy smile appeared on Aegon's face. "Is it a promise?"

This response surprised Aemond who chuckled, crossing his arms under his head to rest his cheek on them and look at him.

Aegon ran his hand through his hair to brush back his light curls then sat up on his elbows, running his fingers over his brother's shoulders.

Since he let himself be done, Aegon continued, going down on his back then placing his hand on his little brother's ass, looking up at him.

“Hmm?” the youngest asked, seeing the interest flash in his brother's eyes but wanting to hear what was on his mind. "What's up?"

Aegon seemed to hesitate for a moment, coming to press a little closer against his brother while continuing to caress his back and ass. “And you, will you let me do it? Will you let me take you?” He had lost his temper at his brother's directives, had let Aemond drag him to their house and use him, use his body as he wished, but now that he was completely sober of fear and apprehension he had felt, his body warming and calming after Aemond had taken care of it, he was regaining confidence.

“After all, baby brother, I’m pretty sure the only gift our parents gave me was a perfect little brother to fuck. Just for me.” Aemond didn't show it visibly but a little smirk appeared at the corners of his lips, amused at the idea of ​​exchanging roles and even if he had said nothing, neither nodded nor refused, Aegon already knew that the answer was yes.

[igneouswyvern]

Sometimes I hate myself. I can't stick with anything. I've tried to pick up so many things--photography, art, writing, composing music, and most recently 3D modelling, and every time I say to myself "this time I won't give up, this time I'll make sure to practice a little bit each day, this time I'll stick with it until I get good at it." And every time I crash and burn just the same. I stick with it for 3 days at maximum, and then I go, "I'm going to come back to it, I promise, I'm just taking a short break." But I don't ever come back to it. And the guilt just piles up.

I can draw, kind of. I never learned digital art, and I never learned how to make sketchbook art look good. So I'm stuck with extremely mediocre art that I can use to draw really bad concept sketches or submit to contests that will only earn me a participation award. And I can write, kind of--just enough to get my thoughts down on paper and submit to similar contests. Unless I practice, I'll never be good enough at either of these things to actually stand out.

And I keep jumping hobbies, trying to find something that I can be better-than-average at. But if it doesn't come easily and naturally to me, then I just can't keep going. And that's the hard part about art--it's never going to be easy. If it does come naturally to me, that's only up until a certain point. The rest is up to consistent practice. And for whatever reason, my idiot brain can't find the motivation anywhere.

And so I'm left feeling like I have nothing tangible to offer the world. I see people with their projects and their contest-winning submissions and their special "title" that they can put in their bio that makes them stand out. And I just have none of that. The only thing that makes me special from other people is my interest in video games and the fact that I'm queer. I am entirely average and wholly unremarkable.

Maybe someday when I'm not in school and I'm not being stifled by working in fucking mcdonalds I'll be able to have the motivation to become skilled at an art form. But for now, I'm just stuck feeling like a failure. It sucks man, it really does.

[casspurrjoybell-25]

ON A NIGHT LIKE THIS - Chapter 20

*Warning: Adult Content*  

Jayce stared at the wall of his hotel room, sighing before he looked back at his laptop.

This would be the fifth job application he'd submitted today.

He hoped someone would call him back but he worried that because it was now December and the holidays were approaching, companies wouldn't be hiring until the new year.

He had enough savings to stay in this hotel for the rest of the month but after that, he'd have to start bringing in some money if he wanted to make sure he had enough to pay for the deposit and first month's rent for a new apartment.

To make things worse, most of the apartments he'd looked at wanted proof of employment and current pay stubs, so he couldn't even get an apartment until he got a job.

It was stressful but it wasn't what was bothering him most. 

Dylan was constantly on his mind.

He missed the quiet, gentle man.

He missed Dylan's huge arms wrapped around him, Dylan's warm lips against his and the way Dylan seemed to smell like Christmas.

He still didn't understand quite what had gone wrong.

Dylan seemed to like him and he'd told Jayce he could be himself.

But maybe what had happened was what always happened to him, as soon as he wasn't perfect, guys left him.

He'd challenged Dylan about going into town and brought up Dylan's flaws and a few hours later, Dylan had sent him back to Seattle.

The other possibility was that his helplessness and tendency to turn everything into a disaster had been too much for Dylan.

Because of his poor planning, he'd caused a missing persons fiasco, wasted everyone's time and caused the police to show up at Dylan's door.

Most people wouldn't be happy about that.

He hadn't known his brother was going to invite him for Thanksgiving this year or that both his brother and his parents would panic when they didn't hear back from him and couldn't get in touch with him.

It was nice to know his family actually did care.

Since he missed Thanksgiving with them, he had been invited to fly to his brother's house for Christmas.

Giving up on the job applications for now, he crawled onto the hotel bed and sank down with his face in the pillows.

He was upset about how things had turned out with Dylan and he'd spent more time moping around than he wanted to admit.

Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured Dylan's face.

He didn't know how things would have worked out between them, especially living several hours apart from each other but he'd at least wanted to try being in a relationship with Dylan.

Beside him on the bed, his phone started vibrating.

He picked it up quickly, hoping maybe it'd be someone from one of the jobs he'd applied to but he sighed when he saw it was just his brother calling him.

Again.

"Hey, Matt," he answered. "I'm still okay. Not lost anywhere. You don't need to keep checking up on me."

"I know but I want to. I feel bad for being too wrapped up in my own life to keep in touch on a consistent basis. That's going to change."

"You have a wife and kids. You should be focused on them."

"And I can focus on you too," Matt sighed. "I didn't know Dad and Mom were being so weird about you being gay. If I had known, I would have done a lot of things differently."

"It's not your problem."

"It is, especially when my little brother takes off into the mountains without telling anyone and almost dies."

"I'm fine," he insisted. "I promise. I won't ever do that again, trust me."

"You still owe me the detailed version of what happened. I mean, some guy who lived in the mountains found you? You can't just leave it at that."

"Okay," he sighed.

He started filling Matt in about Dylan and he couldn't help but tell him everything.

He needed to talk to someone about Dylan and about how he had messed it all up.

"That's quite a story," Matt said.

"Yeah. I just wish I hadn't screwed things up."

"Jayce, I don't think it's your fault. Based on everything you just told me about Dylan, he's had a rough life. This might be something you should talk to Heather about."

He had only spoken with Matt's wife Heather a few times but she had always been kind to him.

And she was a therapist, so it probably wouldn't hurt to get her perspective.

Heather's warm, upbeat voice filled his ear.

"Hey, Jayce. I'm glad you're okay and safely back in Seattle. You had us all worried."

"I'm fine," he assured her. "I didn't mean to cause all this trouble."

He gave her a brief recap of the past couple months but spent most of the time telling her about Dylan.

She listened carefully, taking a moment to think before giving her opinion.

"If you really like Dylan and want to have a relationship with him, the first thing both of you will have to do is communicate better. It sounds like you both have insecurities and you need to talk to each other about those. Second, you're going to have to take the lead on a lot of things. Dylan's had a sheltered life and it doesn't seem like he's had much opportunity for human interaction. He doesn't have the same social skills that you do. You're going to have to be patient with him. There may be days when he lashes out or doesn't know how to handle a situation. I suspect that's what happened when he sent you home."

"I didn't think about all of that," he admitted.

"If you want to talk to him again or see him again, you'll need to be the one to reach out. There could be any number of things Dylan is thinking but it's possible that after everything he's been through, he doesn't believe you actually want to be around him."

He listened carefully to everything Heather said, asking a few follow-up questions before they hung up.

He was grateful to have her advice and see the situation from someone else's perspective.

It gave him hope that things didn't have to be over with Dylan.

For days, Dylan had laid in his bed, barely eating and ignoring the world around him.

The silence he'd once loved was stifling now.

Jayce was gone and he'd give anything to hear Jayce's laugh again or listen to him ramble on, filling the room with the sound of his voice.

He pulled the blanket over his head and clutched the scarf he'd given to Jayce.

After Jayce had left, he'd found the scarf draped over a chair.

Apparently, Jayce didn't want to take it with him and didn't want any reason to remember him or his time in the cabin.

The rejection stung but he buried his face in the scarf and breathed deeply. It still smelled like Jayce.

He knew he needed to get up and move on with his life.

More snow had fallen and he needed to clear the driveway again and bring in more firewood.

And if he wanted fresh fruit and vegetables, he'd have to do what he dreaded most, go back into town to the grocery store.

A few hours later, he pulled into the parking lot of the grocery store.

He stared at the building in front of him, hoping there wouldn't be many people inside.

He hoped he could get in, get what he needed and get out before anyone noticed him.

Inside the store, a group of teenagers were in the bakery section looking at the desserts and an older woman was slowly pushing a cart down one of the aisles as she browsed.

He kept his head down and headed straight to the produce section.

He quickly picked out what he wanted before taking a detour to grab some fish fillets as well.

He was about to turn the corner into the next aisle when he heard the whispers of the teenagers he'd seen when he entered the store.

"Did you see that creepy guy is in here?" one of the girls said. "I heard that he kidnapped a hiker and kept him in some weird cabin up in the mountains."

One of the guys chimed in.

"My dad said the same thing and told me to stay away from him. Like I would ever go near him. Something's wrong with that guy."

His heart sank hearing their words.

He didn't know how the information about Jayce being at his cabin had gotten out but it shouldn't have surprised him that people were twisting the story to make him out to be a threat.

Now, people's stares were going to be even worse.

The teenagers laughed about something and he focused on their words again.

"That big scar on his face looks so bad," another girl whispered. "I don't know why he walks around like that instead of trying to cover it up."

He felt sick.

It was one thing for his mind to fill in the blanks about what people must be thinking as they stared at him but it was another thing entirely hearing their real thoughts.

He couldn't stand another second of being in public with everyone's watching eyes, so he dropped his basket of groceries and quickly fled from the store.

[pearl-tarotist]

☄ 18+! PAC: The dynamic of your FS and you⋆｡˚:

"Do you think that there is a corner of this Earth that you could travel to far away enough to free me from this torment?(...)You are the bane of my existence, and the object of all my desires. Night and day, I dream of you."

This PAC will consist in two parts. (i. what you bring to the relationship/what's your position. ii. What you bring in the sexual ambience; this part is nsft, not for kids.).

Pile 1-2-3 are referred to your future spouse. Pile A-B-C are referred to you.

1-2-3//A-B-C

PILE 1

i. His position = The Romantic Extrovert.

(3 of Roses – 2 of Shells – Princess of Roses)

              In this dynamic relationship your future spouse will be the one making the efforts to meet new people, to engage in new social connections. They will be the one creating the most spontaneous fun. They will be aware of the opportunities that allow him/her to create fun experiences to live together.  Your FS will be the one to maintain the spark and the feelings of happiness without even needing a reason in the relationship.

              They will be the one organising all the dates and making sure they are romantic and heartfelt. Your FS will be the one to also find the most adequate moments to be alone and to be able to listen to the other, to make sure you both feel supported by the other. I think your fs will like to find the most romantic and secluded spots just to have a romantic day/night. Also, they will do this randomly, they could look up a restaurant in another city and to bring you there the same night, even if they have to drive all afternoon to reach there. They like to bring excitement and adventure to the relationship. They won’t let your relationship become a routine or something “boring”.

Your FS brings: energy, trips, enthusiasm, romance and spontaneity.

From now on, no minors allowed.

ii. In the sexual ambience = a devoted worshiper/ a pleasure dominant.

*Due to facilities in the writing, I will assume your fs is a man and you are a woman, if that’s not the case please change the pronouns as you please, thank you.

(Page of  wands – Queen of cups – 2 of wands)

Your Fs is a giver in all ambiences, he’s a giver in all circumstances.  And you are the one he wants to give his all. He sees you as a sensitive and emotional queen that deserves all she wants; almost as if he was your charming knight. He wants to fulfill all your needs and to fulfill you too… If you get what I mean.

              In a sexual ambience he could be described as a “pleasure/gentle dominant”. Don’t get me wrong, he’s not a sub nor he wants to be submitted to you.  It’s just that he thinks he knows what's best for you and wants to give it to you. He has the power, but he uses it to make you feel really good.

              Getting into it. Your FS loves your legs and he likes to play with them; rubbing them, grabbing them, forcing them apart, kissing them, biting them… Without you being able to use your legs, you are at his “mercy”. He likes to make you feel a lot of things and making you swing side to side in your place; unable to keep your hips still. And, obviously, he likes to get in between them (the legs) and play with your folds and clit, he has a restless tongue. He likes to get on his knees. (Lucky girl ✨).

              He does also like to play with your boobs and having your nipples in between his teeth. Just to get his head in between your boobs/ chest and feel you right there, even your smell could turn him on. You could even scratch his back while he’s sucking you and he will be happy.

Everything in this pile talks about sensations and pleasure, mostly, using you until your eyes fall heavy and you have no energy anymore. This is due to the fact that everything in the relationship is balanced and equal between both of you; you could even tease him endlessly in other topics or in public without him being able to do anything about it; he wants to take “revenge” because of it on you in the sexual ambience.

Your FS will show devotion, passion, a lot of teeth and friction.

Channelled song: Watermelon Sugar by Harry Styles.

First time doing a 18+ reading… was it too explicit or not explicit enough? Feedback please.

PILE 2

i. His position = The mature motivator

(5 of Wings – King of Roses – 9 of Shells)

Your FS will be wise and supportive, they will be the one advising and making the effort to do the research to try to pick the best outcome possible. They will be, the logical one, always making sure you both pick what you need at the moment while not making anybody feel down. You know, sometimes what we want is not what we need. But, in the case you feel disappointed by the choices you have made or the circumstances, they will be there to support you and make you feel better.

              They could be older than you or act in a more “paternal” way (😐😏). Your fs likes to be in command and make sure that their self-knowledge is of use to both of your advantages. They have the confidence and the honesty to accept other's opinions while making sure they choose the one they like. And they are successful, they are able to fulfill both of your needs and to fulfill the relationship in an emotional way. Your FS could be rational and good with words and in this way they achieve the trust and loyalty that they need to make the relationship work, I think this position does allow your fs to protect you from the world in a financial/social way.

Your FS brings: confidence, motivation, security and a good eye for opportunities.

From now on, no minors allowed.

ii. In the sexual ambience = The sexual cuddler…

(Knight of Wands – 7 of Pentacles – The Lovers)

*Due to facilities in the writing, I will assume your fs is a man and you are a woman, if that’s not the case please change the pronouns as you please, thank you.

              Your FS is really lovely while having sex, he’s someone that does not aim for detached sex or someone that just wants to reach his orgasm. He wants to have you as close as possible while making love, he literally wants to take care of you and enjoy the act from the beginning to the end… the end being aftercare and cuddling, not just the orgasm.

              He has a lot of energy, like a wild horse, he wants to have you glued to his body; your back into his chest so in that way he’s able to grab your boobs, push one of his hands into your clit or even being able to grab your neck/jaw from time to time. Reverse cowgirl it’s one of your favs positions.  He likes to be the one taking control or at least, to control the rhythm and the thrusts, it’s easy for him to do it from behind. He wants to feel your weight against him, ¡just lean into him!  He wants you on top, riding him, but he still wants to put the limits and to control your hips.

              He likes to work hard for it, for the sex, he could be at it for hours because he knows that it is worthy. He knows the more effort he puts, the bigger and harder the orgasms will be for both of you. Edging is in the house. He likes to see the way your bodies move together, the way the bodies move, twist and stretch; and he has a fixation on seeing how his dick gets in and out of you.  He owns you lovingly.

There is a lot of attraction in this couple, he’s obsessed with a lot of things, he loves your hair and its softness in his hands; he does also like your smell, the sweat and the smell of sex too. That’s why he does also enjoy the aftercare and the cuddling after it; he just loves the intimacy that comes from making love.

Your FS will show stability, strength, hand movements and a need to keep you close...

Channelled song: Adore you by Harry Styles.

First time doing a 18+ reading… was it too explicit or not explicit enough?Feedback pls 🙂

PILE 3

I. His position = the tightrope walker

(4 of Wings – 2 of Wings – Prince of Wings)- So many wings!

Your FS is someone private and that understands about the personality and inner self of people. They are someone wiser in that ambience, they know how people work and how to get out the best from them (the people). They are good at balancing others and makes them fix or face their personal problems.

That’s what your FS will do for you and for the relationship, he will know when to bring balance and calmness to the relationship. She/he/they will know when it’s time to talk in private with you about various problems and when to face them at the exterior, like physically, to face fears and insecurities. Your FS is balanced and good at guessing people strengths, they are not afraid to show their limits, I think your fs must have a serious but friendly aura. Really good with words and with their approach to people, they are thinkers.

 Your FS knows how to walk in the limb/tightrope of people, he knows when to push or when to calm them, it’s a great skill to have. Your FS will probably never embarrass themselves in front of people 😭.

Your FS brings: intelligence, communication, knowledge and bravery.

From now on, no minors allowed

ii. In the sexual ambience = The unapologetic taker

*Due to facilities in the writing, I will assume your fs is a man and you are a woman, if that’s not the case please change the pronouns as you please, thank you.

(9 of Pentacles – Ace of Cups – 2 of Cups – The Devil)

Well, that took a turn, Your fs is literally that sentence that goes like “Princess in the street, a bitch on his sheets”. But in his case it is “ the hermit in the street but the devil in the sheets”.

So, he likes to take, he likes to be on top and he likes to dominance. He likes to exhaust you, he likes to take all from you. He looks at sex as a competition and your moans and reactions are his prizes.  

              He likes it messy, he likes it dirty. He literally wants to “forcefully” extract all of you and everything that’s in your mind until you can only think of him; about his dick inside of you, about his hands on your chest and about his kisses and whimpers in your neck. He wants you to be his, you knowing it or not.  It’s as if he wanted his aura over yours, so they know you are his at first look. (alpha male indeed). He’s always covering you with his body because he wants to touch everything about you.

              It appears as if there weren’t any preparations; once he has his eyes on something he does not like to play games. He likes to be in between your legs and inside of you as soon as he can. There is no time for any of you to get on your knees nor to tease. He gets excited quickly and he acts, it’s not about jealousy but about instant and huge love and passion, everything comes from a place of love and a need for union.

              Kisses are important, as aggressive and sexual everything can get, he likes to kiss you romantically. It’s a touch that he searches for. It’s a way of showing he appreciates your whole self being there, physically and emotionally. And plus, once everything has ended, he still stays there, hugging you and kissing you in bed.

Your FS will show strong sexual urges, possessiveness, need and love.

Channelled song= Shameless by The Weeknd

“Ooh, said you wanna be good but you couldn't keep your composure// Ooh, said you wanna be good but you're begging me to come over// Ooh, saying who's gonna fuck you like me? Yeah”.

First time doing a 18+ reading… was it too explicit or not explicit enough? Feedback pls 🙂

PILE A

i. Your position = The softest leader

(2 of wings – Princess of gems – 6 of Wings)

In this relationship you will be the partner that will apport balance and calmness. You will know when to take a break to reorganize the direction of the relationship. You will have a good sense to know when to calm things down. Example: if you both have been too focused on your jobs, you will be the one deciding to take a vacation or a rest. To be able to focus on new ideas or on how to make things work, giving to the relationship a sense of gentleness and hope (giving the dreamy vibes to the relationship). The position of the one that knows how to work on the relationship so that it is not affected by the changes of both of your personalities and circumstances.

          You will also be able to make everything better and to keep the enthusiasm even when things may go down from time to time.  Hard-working and communicative. You will be also the one starting the “important” conversations as having kids, buying a house, or adopting a pet.

You will bring communication, change, work and balance.

From now on, no minors allowed!!

ii. In the sexual ambience = The femme fatal

*Due to facilities in the writing, I will assume your fs is a man and you are a woman, if that’s not the case please change the pronouns as you please, thank you.

(The Hierophant – Page of Pentacles – 7 of wands)

In the sexual ambience, at least with your future spouse, you will have the power (apart from power play and who’s the “top” or the “bottom”), you will always have the last word on everything. In a way is giving “daddy” vibes, a dominant aura; and you like it.

I have the feeling that you are someone really attractive and that has a lot of proposals, this is something that makes you feel hot and sexy. It’s something that could turn you on easily, to know you are adored and wanted by many. You are a powerful jealous maker.

You like making your future spouse jealous, it’s also giving brat energy. It is a “I know I have the power, and I will make you aware that you have me just because I want you too”.

So from this perspective I sense that you will like to be conquered in a sensual and slow way, spoiled; even recreating a few scenarios: you looking really hot in a bar and your future spouse inviting you to a drink, touching your legs and the upskirt secretly under the table.

But in a strictly physical way you will be the one being manhandled, pushed and “forced” (always with consent!) to take everything your spouse gives you; you like to make him so jealous and for him to show you his angriness! And you will like it, you will like how much effort and reactions you can take out of him. His actual feelings do not matter, or they are not serious, it’s all a game for you. You laugh at him.

Now, the positions, your future spouse has a fixation with your mouth, he will like to make you drink and to push a glass of wine into your lips, making the drink fall into your cleavage and chest. He will also like to put his fingers into your mouth and to grab your shoulders with his hands, pressing you into his chest.

You will be the “pretty one”, the most attractive one and you spouse will show with strength that he could be at the “same level”, won’t work out. You are already laughing at him.

You will show confidence, mischievous, power and sassyness.

Channelled song: Maneater by Nelly Furtado.

First time doing a 18+ reading… was it too explicit or not explicit enough? Feedback pls 🙂

PILE B

i. Your position = the romantic

(6 of roses – the Wheel of fortune – Ace of Shells)

You will be an extreme nurturing energy in this relationship. You will be a good friend and a good spouse. You will be the one in the couple to bring the warmness and softness of each love story. You will be the one to remember the good times and to try to recreate them once more. Your position is apparently not one of “responsibilities” but it is really important! You are a winner! You are the light, the soul of the relationship.

It's possible that the relationship is formed around you. I feel that no matter what you do, you will always find a way to make your connection feel romantic and lovely, no matter the cycle or step of the union you are in. Your position is also the one to make the relationship evolve and to step out of the comfort zones. But in a really longing way, I think of you as one of those poets that are always writing their dreams; that need to be taken into actions but never are. I feel that you will put the important ideas out while your future spouse will possibly make them come true (in physical reality).

You will bring softness, light, magic, energy and fantasy.

From now on, no minors allowed!!

ii. In the sexual ambience = The anchor

*Due to facilities in the writing, I will assume your fs is a man and you are a woman, if that’s not the case please change the pronouns as you please, thank you.

(Strength – The Magician – The High Priestess)

          Your sexual position is one of strength and creation. You will be the one guiding the most “aggressive” or “sexual” fantasies of yourself or even of your future spouse. To make sure they never get out of hand and because you have a lot of skills to create great sexual relationships. This pile probably is experienced or at least, has a lot of sexual knowledge (let it be through sex, books, movies or by other people’s experiences). Dominance is the word, dominance over your fantasies and over your future spouse.

You will be really passionate, and you will have a high libido. To the point to tease your partner in public, you won't risk doing it in the city, but you will have fun at beaches, gardens, balconies, (nature)…places where people could come but that are mostly hidden. And not by penetration but mostly with handjobs and fingerings. It could even be oral sex, but not as often. It’s important for both of you to keep your heads and gazes on a similar level/height.  

You could like to use sexual toys, not just for you but also for him, you don’t like to go just for the usual/ “basic” sex, you want to try to incorporate different things to your routine. I mostly see dildos of different sizes, lubes, the small vibrators that could be fun outside (always with respect 👀) and even cockrings. The male energy I think it’s more prone to use them on the female energy but! The toys are mostly chosen by her. Also, you both won’t be shy to investigate things or to look up sexual stuff that calls both of your attention.

Last but not least important, intimacy is a key element for you! That’s why I think you like to guide or lead the most “wild fantasies”; you are someone that does not want to erase the emotional or even spiritual part of sex, that’s like the base. That’s why eye contact is so important for you too; and to keep the equality between both of you.

The position that you have is one of canalizing the most savage fantasies/kinks and made them become something intimate, spiritual, magical, soft, nurturing and that unites both of you in a deeper bond.

You will show fun, dominance, magic, spirituality, goddess realness, royalty and raw sexuality.

Channelled song= Disco tits by Tove Lo. "Come on over tonight, take a hit//You can follow my bloodstream, wild //No, I don't have a type(...) // I'm sweat from head to toe //I'm wet through all my clothes// I'm fully charged, nipples are hard// Ready to go". Listen to the song!

First time doing a 18+ reading… was it too explicit or not explicit enough? Feedback pls 🙂

PILE C

i. Your position= The loved manipulator

(Prince of wings – Ace of Roses – The Devil/ King of Wings)

So? You know those type of women that look really nicely and lovingly (and they are) but they know how to “manipulate” or which buttons to touch to get what they want. I feel like that’s your position in the marriage. You are really clever, you get a lot of idea, and you know how to start them up and making them work.

You are also really good with communication, you could have a direct but loving way of speaking, excellent at communicating your feelings and clever enough to know when to “lie” or let “white lies” come through. I feel you will be the one taking the steps to make the communication easier between both of you and to turn the “sparks” on.  You could also be really good at flirting hehe. I feel like this is a badass marriage like the one in the “Mr and Mrs Smith” movie. And you could also be reflected in the character: Margery from Got (Game of Thrones).  She was really clever and really knew which words and acts to do to get what she wanted and to make her husband happy. Peace, calmness and still get the reward.

You will bring action, communication, peace, manipulation and status.

From now on, no minors allowed!!

ii. In the sexual ambience = The vigilante

*Due to facilities in the writing, I will assume your fs is a man and you are a woman, if that’s not the case please change the pronouns as you please, thank you.

(Page of Cups – Justice – 2 of Cups)

              I have the impression that your future spouse could be someone that gets jealous easily and that maybe, that’s why you have to use your words in such a calming way. (Obviously, if in any case this person gets toxic use your logic and leave). But in general, you are the one to put a stop to actions that you don’t like, in a sexual ambience this could be translated in a game of  “tug of war”.

              If you do something, you would like your future spouse to do the same and if your fs does something, you will do that too. I guess this is a: “ If you eat my pussy, I will suck your dick”; and “if you make me cum, I will make sure you cum too”. It’s a relationship of balance, of learning to trust on the other.  There will be a lot of approaches from your future spouse, and you will have fun knowing that you can stop him or fuel his approaches, if it is not something he has not “won”, you will have fun denying sex from him. If you do not think that the sex is equal and pleasuring for both of you, you will stop it and discuss it with him. I think you will be the one teaching him how to really make love to a woman and making it feel good.

Ohh, this is kinky. For a few of these readers, there is a theme of “hermaphroditism”. Of equal between the genital parts, so it’s possible that there is something about “strap-ons”, of both of you being the giving and receiving end.

In general it is a position of excess, love, balance, equality, passion and fun.

You will show balance, equality, fun, passion and calmness .

Channeled song = Hot in it by Tiesto and Charli XCX

First time doing a 18+ reading… was it too explicit or not explicit enough? Feedback pls 🙂

🦪&🌛

[taechaos]

Social Media

from Textbook Love drabbles

pairing: bully!Jungkook x nerdy!fem!Reader

genre: drabble(?), smut, college au

synopsis: “She’s too sweet,” Taehyung begins, “too kind, too nice, everything you’re not. You wouldn’t be trying to keep me away from her if you didn’t know that. Are you afraid she’ll like me better?”

warnings: slight angst, arguing, dubcon, mild violence

word count: 4.7k

a/n: ima need yall to submit jk gifs cuz it is taking me TOO long to find a good one 👺 not proofread.

The weekend is fun: students’ two days of temporary rest and catching up on their assignments. Jungkook doesn’t concern himself with the latter, but he does enjoy waking up later in the day and lying down on the grass with his arms crossed under his head, bathing in the sun without any worries. It’s peaceful, thinking thoughts of you with dimmed eyes while the breeze gently wafts past him.

But of course, Taehyung wouldn’t let him just enjoy his day without a hint of irritation. Good things never last anyway. He’s sitting in the middle of the field, a hot spot for relaxation, and feels the soil under his palms while observing his surroundings. Yoongi is with them, munching on a few snacks while scrolling through his phone as it quietly plays music.

“The girl at the party,” Taehyung begins before glancing at Jungkook through his sunglasses, “she was alone when I came back. You weren’t around either; did you cum too soon or something? I saw you two kiss.”

“I left,” Jungkook mumbles without opening his eyes.

“Why?”

“I was bored.”

“And where did you go?” he pries.

“None of your business.”

Taehyung scoffs at his dismissal before averting his gaze elsewhere. “I do have a guess.”

“Don’t start,” Yoongi warns him without looking up. The two best friends usually get into arguments in a matter of seconds daily, and Yoongi just wants to spend his day without having to break up a fight. Just this once, he hopes… but hope doesn’t save him.

“I’m just wondering if you actually went all the way back to campus to fuck another girl, who coincidentally also does your homework.” His tone is cool and collected, but it borders on mocking that usually goes unnoticed. He’s been around these two too long for them to miss, however. Yoongi sighs, dreading the response already.

Jungkook sits up on his elbows with a glare directed towards Taehyung. “How’s your ex holding up, Tae? You think she cheated on another guy yet?”

Neither of the two friends have a filter around them, no consideration for their words as they apathetically insult one another; but Jungkook can go too far, especially by bringing up old wounds. 

Taehyung was in a toxic relationship with his first girlfriend of two years, which took a huge toll on his mindset. Constant infidelity, endless forgiving, make up sex and catching her with another man after: a cycle that went on for over 24 months. The concept of love became tainted in his eyes, no longer interacting with the opposite gender if not to get laid, and Jungkook’s commensalistic - rather parasitic - relationship doesn’t disprove his hateful ideology. Love only consists of two people: a host who provides, and the parasite that selfishly takes it all. 

But he isn’t over the pain that lasted a year after the break up, which was shamelessly executed by the parasite: his former girlfriend. It took a lot of trust to open up about it to his friends, and it lifted a heavy weight off of his chest. Only this year did he stop thinking about her, until Jungkook asked about her so casually. It stings his heart only for a second, and he scoffs as Yoongi intervenes, “Both of you need to shut the fuck up.”

“If you guys want to talk about my relationships, then don’t get all whiny when I talk about yours.”

Taehyung swallows his pride and confidently answers, “I don’t know, Jungkook. I hear she’s doing well, but no information on her boyfriends. Your turn: what’s going on with that nerd?”

“Elaborate.”

“Are you two dating?” Yoongi asks exhaustedly. They just keep taking every opportunity to annoy each other, and it’s even overwhelming him at this point. 

Rolling his neck side to side in thought, Jungkook takes a moment to answer, “No.”

“Bullshit,” Taehyung spits. “You know what? Let’s just move on. I’m sure I could get proper answers from someone else.”

“If you have a death wish, that is,” he warns with a slight seethe before lying back down.

He doesn’t respond and hides a smirk, a couple having a romantic picnic ahead of him from a distance. He watches them for a few seconds before muttering to himself, “It’s not going to be my death.”

Yoongi and Jungkook chill on their own after Taehyung leaves. He’s roaming the campus in hopes of finding that one girl who is always wearing some school skirt and working 24/7 to find out what is so special about her. Jungkook might think he doesn’t notice them interacting, but behind that airhead facade, he’s observant. It’s not that big of a fucking secret either, they’re not deliberately hiding their strangely beneficial friendship or whatever. You stick out like a sore thumb in the yard, though there’s not many people to tell you apart from anyway.

He approaches you rather slowly, inspecting your figure first before meeting you. Your posture is straight and composed, fingers quickly typing away on your keyboard without even looking at them. You look so serious to him, a contrast to the radiant butterflies flying past you in such a bright environment. He wonders if you ever procrastinate or take breaks, and most importantly, how someone that appears so smart has fallen into such an obvious trap set by his best friend of all people. 

His hands are in his pockets as he speaks his first words to you. “Hi, I’m Taehyung.”

Your reaction is instant: a quick look at him and you’re already frowning. “I’m Jungkook’s best friend,” he adds in case you’ve seen him around before. 

“I don’t know you.” And with that distant reply, you return to your essay. If meeting Jimin has taught you anything, it’s that you can’t trust anyone who claims to know your lover. They are just using it against you… 

“Well, shit,” he laughs, “I didn’t realize you were so cold.” Your eyes don’t waver from your screen, so he tries another approach: “Are you the girl Jungkook left the party a few days back for?”

Your ears perk up in his direction, but you don’t show it. But he notices the pause in your taps before you continue typing, and he holds that against you. He takes a seat across from you, and your laptop covers your face from him. “I just wanted to meet the person that’s got him whipped enough to get high and run off to them.” You bite down on a smile and prolong your silence. “I guess I’ll talk to you when you’re not busy.” 

He stands up just as you tell him, “Wait, no, I’m not busy.” You close your laptop mid-way before hesitating, but slam it shut nonetheless. “Sorry.”

“You’re good.” He sits back down and clasps his hands on the table. “So what’s going on between you and him? He refuses to tell me, as if you’re his little secret.”

You shyly look down at your flats and twiddle your fingers on your lap. “We’re together… but he is very mysterious.”

It’s a good thing you don’t glance at him to hide your blush, because he’s a little skeptical. He puckers his lips and furrows his brows but controls his expression when you look up. He mentally curses for taking longer than a few seconds to respond; it’s suspicious. “I know right? I don’t know why he’s so reluctant to talk about you. You’re a total sweetheart.”

Approval from Jungkook’s friend: check. Will he like you more if you get along with his friends? The thought excites you, because at least this is someone he likes, unlike Jimin. “Thank you,” you shy a smile. “Um…”

You’re awkward: not Jungkook’s type, Taehyung notes. You’re obviously the host... “So is this a fling, or are you two serious?”

“We’re serious!” you immediately answer. “I love him, and he recently told me he loves me too. He used to kiss me for doing his homework, but now he does it out of nowhere.”

Wow… romantic. He suppresses a chuckle because he doesn’t want to laugh in your face, not when you’re so cute when you talk about him. Your eyes light up with a gleam, a lovesick smile gracing your face and now desperate to befriend him. You look like him when he was supposedly in love. You’re serious about Jungkook, but for how long? Especially when the other side of the relationship is not so committed. It should be mutual: with two hosts.

“Yeah?” he acts interested and raises his sunglasses up to his hair. “How does he act around you?”

“Well,” you start gushing, “he is a little closed off with his emotions.” True. “He doesn’t like me talking to other guys.” Ooh, interesting. “He can’t stand being ignored,” you chuckle. Can he now? “And… he is so cute when he’s jealous. He has this glare whenever I don’t give him enough attention, but he would never admit it. He likes being intimate with me, likes it when I reassure him. He never says it out loud though, I can just tell by looking at him. I’ve never felt this way for anyone, never fell in love with someone until I met Jungkook. I just want to make him happy because he used to look so sad when I watched him from afar.” A hopeless romantic.

Maybe if you didn’t sound so genuine and innocent, he would’ve made fun of you. But he just feels pity for someone who is so giving to someone who gives back so little. You don’t deserve it; don’t deserve to stay up working on so many assignments; don’t deserve to not have any hobbies; don’t deserve to be so unloved. You are pathetic, but it doesn’t turn him off.

Taehyung is a host too.

He clears his throat at the unexpected stirring emotions in his heart, “What do you love about him? Do you like being treated like shit or something?”

“He doesn’t treat me badly! He is like a light switch, you know? He doesn’t know how to act, sometimes sweet and sometimes… a little mean. I love him for his pure heart, and I believe that we are similar in a lot of ways.”

Taehyung can’t contain his snort. Similar? You are opposites. You are similar to him, not Jungkook. He feels… jealous. The pairing is just so ridiculous and flawed, but you’re neither of the two; you are just good. Taehyung can be good too. “So, what’s your Instagram user?”

The lack of commentary and escalation of the topic catches you off guard. It’s a distraction. “I don’t have an account,” you reply in confusion.

“Wow, I’d expect you to cyberstalk Jungkook on there,” he jokes with a laugh.

“He has an Instagram?”

He purses his lips, his grin faltering as he nods. He takes out his phone from his pocket to show you the account, and holds it in your face. Your lips part as you gently take it from him, curiously inspecting the collage of images. 

“He plays the guitar?” you ask in awe. You click on each picture to zoom in on them, and your heart jumps upon seeing his selfies while Taehyung hums. He is gorgeous in your eyes, and you want to keep up with his posts in hopes of seeing another selfie. These are hidden gems that Taehyung had the courtesy of providing to you.

“He’s learning,” Taehyung says, “you should sign up and post some pictures as well. You’re really cute.” His cheeky compliment makes you happy; he is basically giving you his blessing! 

“Thank you, and you’re right,” you chirp, “I will make an account after I finish this essay. Want to take a picture with me?”

It’s safe to assume that Jungkook wouldn’t mind you talking to his best friend, so why not expand your social circle? You’ll be more involved with his life this way. Taehyung stammers slightly before agreeing. He switches benches to sit next to you while you rummage through your backpack to find your phone. He finds it strangely endearing how you hold it, using your index finger to swipe between apps to find the camera. It almost stings his heart that you’re so old-schooled in a cute way. Once you angle it above you with your arm stretched out to your left, Taehyung appears to be behind you as he lowers his glasses. You smile brightly into the lens while he cutely puckers his lips. 

Click.

“Are you wearing perfume?” he asks before he can stop himself. Your scent tickles his nostrils sweetly, and he doesn’t know why he’s noticing so much about you or holding a conversation with a woman without being naked. It’s been a hot minute since Taehyung’s had such a platonic interaction, and it shouldn’t feel this nice. He shouldn’t want to continue it through social media either.

“Yes! Do you smell strawberries? I noticed Jungkook eating them before, so I use just about anything strawberry scented. Lotion, shampoo, shower gel…”

He tunes you out as you gush and focuses on the smooth movement of your lips. You’re too good, and Taehyung knows he isn’t the best person but at least he’s not as bad as Jungkook. I shouldn’t think like this… but am I wrong? He will break your heart. What if it’s the right time to intervene to save you from that misery, and be a friend to both of you? He doesn’t want you to fall apart and be completely crushed right in front of his eyes, not when he just witnessed how childishly happy and naive you are. It wouldn’t be fair to you, nor to the life lesson he was taught years ago.

And he then notices that you're wearing strawberry lip balm. 

“Jungkook kis-” -sed someone else before coming to you. You hum and tilt your head at his interruption, waiting for him to finish his sentence. “Jungkook… does love strawberries.”

Though your work ethics are questionable for how exhausting they are, it gets the job done sooner. The moment you’re assigned a task, you do it, regardless of if it’s yours or Jungkook's. Saturday evening and Sunday are free for you, so you spend your time outside after leaving your backpack in your dorm. You think you look silly, taking pictures of anything you find interesting to post on Instagram. You made an account, but it appears like a bot with its empty feed. Jungkook enjoys doing this, so you want to try it as well. 

You don’t stray far from campus because you’d easily get lost, and your gallery looks boring to you. The only decent photo you have is with Taehyung, but you want to post a picture with Jungkook before anyone else. You grumble under your breath while walking back to the dormitory building. You look through Jungkook’s posts again as you do so with a smile. 

A heavy arm slings over your shoulder and hitches your breath just as the culprit says, “What’s the rush?” He doesn’t even look at you, and you wonder if he recognized you from your clothes after coming up from behind you. 

“Jungkookie!” you cheer excitedly. He glances at you and quirks a brow at the nickname. His eyes then trail to your lit up phone and snatches it from you, which you don’t fight against.

“You’re stalking me?” He scrolls through his profile from your phone and smirks before stating, “I didn’t know you had an Insta.” The both of you enter the building with his arm still wrapped around you, which flutters your heart.

“I made one today, since you use it.” He exits his profile to look at yours. You’re in the elevator as you inform, “Taehyung told me.”

A pause, then a click. Jungkook snapped a photo of you when you pressed the button of your floor. “Pretty,” he comments while looking at your candid shot. You’re flattered and also happy that he’s joining your trip to your dorm. He hasn’t said a word of protest and takes the lead in going to your room. “What else?”

“Hm?”

“What else did he tell you?”

You rack your brain to remember anything significant to tell him. It was a long conversation: getting to know each other and more about Jungkook. “He told me you have an Instagram, then asked for my perfume, and then we talked about your love for strawberries-”

“Your perfume? Why was Instagram even brought up?” he presses, stopping in front of your door. 

You take out your keycard and shrug while swiping, “He asked for mine.”

The dorm is empty when you enter and sit on the edge of your bed. It’s very hard to not grin when you’re around Jungkook, but he doesn’t seem to care as he looks through your gallery. “Can we take a picture together?” you peep hopefully. 

“Of course,” he murmurs absentmindedly, intently staring at your phone. “We’ll take many pictures,” he looks up at you before leveling with the camera, “pose.”

You aren’t very educated on the art of posing per se, so you imitate the peace sign you saw him do with a wide smile and a hand on the bed. He is neutral when he snaps a picture with a shutter. 

“I want you to be in it.”

He drags his eyes away from the screen and his blank expression intimidates you. “Whose idea was it for you to make an account?”

“Um… Taehyung, why?” You lay your hands on your lap at the growing tension.

Taehyung went to this extent to get a reaction out of him? Is it possible that he’s this obnoxious? Or perhaps another motive…?

“I-Is he not your friend?”

Jungkook breaks his silence of thoughts with a scoff, “Oh, only the best.” You sigh in relief, though he says it with menace. Taehyung was curious about his relationship, not about your social media. He forcefully pushes you down on the bed and you hold back a gasp as he wraps his finger around your neck in a light chokehold with a thumb on your nether lip. Click. He then lowers his hand to your thigh, hiding half of it under your skirt with a gentle grap. Click.

Your cheeks flush at the compromising photos he’s taking and you nervously ask, “A-Am I going to post these?”

“Shut up.”

You seal your lips shut and he flips you on your stomach, palming your covered ass with your side profile in the frame, and another shutter resounds in the room. “Sit up.” You follow his command and turn around to face him. He pushes your hair to your back and his mouth latches onto your neck. He’s biting you while sucking on your flesh, and you release a breathy moan at the feeling of his tongue swirling on the sensitive skin. It hurts, but you don’t complain and try to make sense of the growing arousal in your lower region. He only pulls away after half a minute and you’re confused by the satisfied smirk on his face while eyeing the result. He angles your jaw to expose your neck better and snaps another photo. “These are all going on your account.”

At your nod of submission, he starts unbuttoning your shirt. “You’re prettier with a mark. My mark.” Your body tingles at the compliment and you help him undress yourself by unbuttoning the ends. “Take off your skirt,” he demands as he slips off his shirt with ease. All of your clothes go off one by one as he does the same, and you don’t have the time to feel shy as his lips collide so roughly with yours that you’re pressed down against the mattress again. You still haven’t gotten the hang of making out, but it doesn’t matter with Jungkook because although it flows naturally, he also takes complete control over you. He’s not gentle, not with the way his teeth clash against yours and tongue leaving trails of saliva all over your mouth. Your toes curl with desire and anticipation, and you tug at his briefs that outline his erection. The feeling of his warm breath on you silences all your thoughts and you can only react on primal instincts. 

His crotch brushes against your bare folds, slick with your leaking wetness. Kissing him this passionately always leaves you feeling needy, and it embarrasses you that you get turned on so easily. But you don’t realize that is his intention as he glides his fingers all over your labia, making sure you’re ready to take all of him. 

Kissing you this passionately always leaves him feeling horny, and it’s apparent with his cock begging to be taken out of the restraints of his underwear. You don’t know how long you’ve been kissing, but your lips are numb when he pulls away to position himself in your entrance. He doesn’t prepare you, but he doesn’t rush himself either as he painfully slowly enters you. You hold your breath and gawn on your swollen lip, moans catching in your throat and leaving as high-pitched hums. He sighs at the feeling of your pulsating walls. “God… always so tight. Don’t you ever touch yourself?”

He bottoms out and you whimper shakily at how full you are. The fact that he fits you like a puzzle piece convinces you that he’s your forever, your meant to be. Even with your lack of experience with other men, you believe no one can make you feel this dreamy. And to think he’s all yours now… “I-I don’t. I only want to do it with you.”

The atmosphere is so fragile, so romantic. It’s not your delusion this time, because he feels it too and it makes his heartbeat sync with yours: unsteady and rapid. And in the heat of the moment, he reveals, “I think I’m in love with you.”

A whine leaves you, so loud that it can’t be achieved with touch but with his words. It’s the utmost pleasure, and when he realizes what he said, he sets a rushed pace to distract himself from the embarrassment of pouring his feelings. You don’t allow him to forget as you echo, “I’m in love with you too.”

“No, no,” he denies with a shake of his head and it emits more love confessions out of you in a chain of ‘I love you’s, and he grunts, “Stop. Shut up!” He pins your forearms on either side of your head in a bruisening grip and thrusts into you harder. You have no choice but to scream in pleasure, unable to form coherent words when he’s practically fucking your brains out. 

His feelings of humiliation translate to his actions: he pushes himself down to the hilt, throbbing with lust but doesn’t chase his high. He doesn’t want you to talk, not when he’s blushing for more than one reason, so he ignores the contraction of his muscles and just fucks you until he can’t anymore, hypnotized by the bounce of your tits.

Maybe it’s a good thing that he’s so desperate, hitting your most sensitive spot with every thrust and making your eyes screw back. Neither of you can think, so loud and reckless until you reach your climax. It’s core shaking, as you cry out his name and tremble with stimulation. He’s never seen this expression on your face, one so twisted in pleasure and looking so erotic. It comes as a surprise and in the form of a punch in the gut as he savours your appearance before cumming inside you with a groan. A slip-up, a mistake, but he doesn’t care as he paints your walls in white, his load filling you up.

And he can’t regret it when he pulls out, because the drizzle of his cum spilling out of your pussy easily becomes his favorite sight. “Shit,” he whispers as more and more drips while you twitch and spasm from your orgasm. You don’t even realize what he’s done, and that makes his chest swell with pride; the most level-headed woman he knows is leaking with his release and stupidly doesn’t spare it a thought. And with that hickey on your neck? “You look fucking gorgeous,” he exhales. A bashful smile stretches across your face with eyes still tightly shut, and you don’t notice him grab your phone on the other side of the bed to take a picture of your stained pussy. 

“This one is for me,” he mutters to himself. Click.

After posting the softcore photos on your account and tagging himself in them, as well as a note of a pharmacy’s address across campus with a label written for you to get two separate contraceptives as an emergency and for your next creampie, he leaves your dorm. You fell asleep on him, and though he had wanted to join you, he decided to collect his scrambled thoughts and go to Taehyung’s dorm first. He isn’t livid, but he has a few questions to ask.

He’s playing cards with Yoongi, Taehyung’s roommate, as he patiently waits for his arrival. “What’s wrong about asking for her Instagram, though?” Yoongi asks before drawing out a card of ace. “Isn’t she our friend by association anyway?”

“It’s suspicious,” Jungkook murmurs while inspecting his deck. “Have you ever seen Taehyung with a girl before? As friends? He’s clearly trying to fuck her.”

Yoongi stifles a laugh, “That’s a reach. Besides, you two have shared a girl before. Are you actually dating her?”

Shuffling is heard behind the door until it swings open as Taehyung enters. “Kookie! What are you doing here?” He throws his keycard on his bed before hopping on Yoongi’s to watch their game.

It’s strained, Jungkook notices. His excitement is forced; why? “I came here for you,” he states bluntly. “A little birdie told me you’ve been talking to someone who belongs to me.”

“I didn’t realize she was your diary,” he tries to lighten the mood with a joke. “What’s the deal anyway? You said you weren’t dating her.”

Yoongi collects the deck of cards after Jungkook drops them, and shuffles them while eavesdropping. He’s sitting cross-legged across from Jungkook, and Taehyung is sitting on the edge of the bed next to him with his body turned sideways.

“I also said that unless you have a death wish, don’t talk to her,” he grits. “And asking for her social media? Are you into her now?”

Taehyung merely shrugs. “I thought she was pretty chill. I don’t know why you’re so mad.”

“She obviously means something to him, so I think you should just respect that, Taehyung,” Yoongi voices his thoughts while leafing the cards. Jungkook looks to the side and pokes the inner cheek of his mouth with his tongue but doesn’t argue.

“I think he’s just using her.” Jungkook’s reaction is instant as Taehyung’s nose instantly starts to bleed from the impact of his fist. Yoongi doesn’t look up. He holds a hand over his injury with a hiss and continues, “Really, Kook? A little too much, don’t you think?”

“Less than enough,” Jungkook fumes, “I like her, and she likes me. Just fucking leave it at that.”

“Couple of the year,” Taehyung chuckles mockingly, “I give it two days.” He stands up before Jungkook can hit him again. “Can’t wait to console her after your break-up, maybe she’ll fall in love with me next.”

Jungkook starts chasing him around the room as Taehyung runs without stopping his provocation. “Why so upset Jungkook? Do you see it happening too? I’m already imagining how tight-”

“You should leave, Jungkook.” Neither of them listen to Yoongi, so he yells, “Jungkook, leave!”

A moment of deafening silence passes as both of them pause to catch their breaths. “She’s too sweet,” Taehyung begins, “too kind, too nice, everything you’re not. You wouldn’t be trying to keep me away from her if you didn’t know that. Are you afraid she’ll like me better?”

“Go fuck yourself,” Jungkook spits with a heaving chest. “She’s loyal to me, but I’m sure you’re not familiar with that concept. No wonder your relationships only last one night.” With a final glare, he leaves as told to return to you. The only thing he needs right now is one more ‘I love you’ from you, as much as he hates it. Maybe he’s cruel, but he doesn’t know anyone who isn’t aside from you. 

Maybe Taehyung is just as cruel, fantasizing about all the ways he could be better for you before drifting off to sleep with a bandage over his wounded nose. He can just be a friend to both of you… he can be good too… 

[seasonofthewicth]

Rowaelin Month - Day 9

prompt: co-hosts with chemistry

extras: podcaster!rowaelin, friends to lovers, tooth-rotting fluff!

word count: 2k

--

The podcast had originally been Lysandra’s idea.

She had deemed their regular conversations dissecting each of their dating lives too entertaining to keep to themselves and so it had begun. It hadn’t been very successful and they had only managed to wrangle a small number of subscribers, mostly consisting of their friends and reluctant family members. They’d had fun, but when Lysandra moved to the Southern Continent they hadn’t bothered to keep it up.

Then Aelin got drunk with Fenrys and his new roommate Rowan.

Her drunken self had thought it a fabulous idea to whip out her phone and hit record when Fenrys had begun to weave his story of the beautiful Asterin and her ruthless rejection, Rowan chipping in with quips that always made her cheeks feel a little warmer. That and the sparkle in his green eyes each time he looked at her.

She’d been intrigued by Rowan on day one. He was everything Aelin felt herself drawn to in one big package. Tall, handsome, tattoos, wicked sense of humour, didn’t take any shit, constantly gave her shit. She was charmed.

Until the podcast had taken off.

The inebriated episode featuring Fenrys and Rowan had landed her with a few thousand subscribers. And she had wanted to continue.

Fenrys had rejected her outright, claiming he didn’t need any more public humiliation, the Asterin story had been enough and she understood, but Rowan…

She’s not sure why she even asked Rowan. They weren’t friends, the episode they’d recorded had been the first night they met and they hadn’t spoken since but she’d laid the offer on the table anyway. Despite the fact that hearing all about Rowan Whitethorn’s dating exploits made her stomach twist.

What she knew of Rowan had told her he’d say no too. He hadn’t given her the impression of being particularly easy going, or that spending time with her in the absence of Fenrys would have been something he would consider. In fact, she’d wondered if he’d thought her desire to chat about something as frivolous as dating would be somewhat shallow or childish.

But then he’d said yes.

And so began their tradition. Every Thursday after his final class of the day and Aelin gets home from her office, she uncorks a bottle of wine and makes dinner. Rowan turns up at eight pm sharp each week, armed with a slice of chocolate hazelnut cake and his lilting and charming accent. They set themselves up at the desk in Aelin’s spare bedroom, each with a set of headphones and a microphone and they talk.

That started eight months ago.

Now they have hundreds of thousands of listeners, people who for some unknown reason like to listen to Aelin and Rowan. Aelin doesn’t get it, but here they are.

Aelin tucks her feet under her thighs and rests the arm holding her wine glass along the back of the sofa. They’ve just finished this week’s episode and she’s not ready for Rowan to leave just yet. He turns to her at the motion, a brow cocked in questioning. He looks good, very good.

The light from her TV highlights the cut of his jaw and plays off the silver strands of his hair, flopping onto his forehead. The green of his henley perfectly displays his golden skin and she’s desperately searching for glances of the swirls of ink that peek out of his neckline each time he shifts.

She thought that by spending more time with him her crush would fade. Except now she definitely has a thing for someone who has turned into one of her best friends.

“What’s up with you?” he asks, so aware by now of her moods. He knows when to wait and when to push her, when to joke and when to keep it real.

Aelin shrugs and the motion dislodges her neckline from her shoulder to part way down her arm. Rowan’s eyes dart down tracking the motion but flash back to hers once she speaks.

“I’m thinking about where we go next,” she says slowly. “I don’t know about you but I’m not dating very much recently and I wonder if I’m running out of funny dating stories.”

Rowan’s lips twitch and she uses the time before he speaks to desperately wonder what’s going on in his head. Then he moves his hand to her knee, his touch a comfort and a thrill, and her mind can only focus on that. Can only focus on how good it feels for him to touch her. She doesn’t have the capacity to worry where his head is at when his hands are on her.

“It’s not just you,” he says, on the same wavelength as her as always. “I don’t find myself on many dates anymore.”

He says it without even a whisper of shame, like he’s confident in why that is.

“I can’t tell if I’m thinking too much about the podcast,” she admits, “or if I just don’t want to do it anymore.”

He’s silent, which she usually uses as her prompt to continue, but his hand stays on her knee.

“I have an idea,” she says, shocked again as his eyes meet hers. “It won’t last forever, but I think it could give us a few episodes at least. We turn to other people. We get listeners to share their experiences, their horror stories, their life lessons, their advice, their failures. We give our comments, we compare them, we’re funny. I think it could work.”

She’s so nervous for his thoughts, his opinions matter to her, she wants his approval.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he says as a soft smile creeps onto his lips, tugging up his cheek and she wants to press her lips right there. “We can get people to submit their best stories, review them, add our own additions and commentary and we’re good for a while.”

He pauses, as though there’s more he wants to say. His hand on her knee squeezes and she craves more of his touch, wants his hand to slide higher, wants his fingers to entwine with hers.

Then he says, “I have an idea for an episode.”

She cocks her brow but he shakes his head.

“I need to think it through some more but I’ll let you know as soon as I have a more solid idea.”

It works and she’s relieved her lack of desire to date anyone who isn’t six foot four, silver haired and named Rowan Whitethorn hasn’t needed any expansion and hasn’t so far caused any major problems. Apart from the fact she finds herself getting lost when he talks, unable to respond right away because she’s too busy staring at his lips, his hands, his everything as he speaks.

She’s sure he’s probably noticed but he kindly hasn’t commented.

The idea to get content from their listeners leads her down a path she’s somewhat shocked to realise exists. She’s been trawling twitter to find their content and interacting with a lot more of their listeners and it’s led her to a small corner of twitter dedicated to her and Rowan.

She scrolls and scrolls through tweets that are convinced she and Rowan are either married, fucking or in love. Or if not yet already, they need to be. Aelin doesn’t disagree necessarily, but it’s weird to know people are thinking that, let alone tweeting it.

@/crochanqueen: Aelin’s laugh every time Rowan says something slightly amusing…. girl you’ve got it bad. He’s not that funny.

Gods, she hopes Rowan hasn’t seen these tweets. She needs to watch when she laughs.

“Next submission,” Rowan says, leaning forwards and speaking into his mic. He’s in his usual chair across from her and she has almost unlimited access to the sight of him in all his glory. No wonder it’s hard to concentrate when they record. “This guy says hi, I’ve got it bad for my best friend.”

Aelin swallows. She definitely needs to watch herself for this one.

“A tale as old as time,” she says with a breezy laugh.

“Right,” Rowan says, a tightness to his voice that wasn’t there before, before he turns back to his phone to continue reading. “We’ve known each other for a while now and we spend a lot of time together just the two of us and it’s as easy as breathing. We get along incredibly well, she makes me laugh and she makes me smile. She brightens my day.”

“Gods, this is so sweet,” she coos and Rowan gives her a tight smile. Okay, she’ll let him finish.

“She’s my best friend,” Rowan continues and Aelin bites her lip. “I want more but I don’t want to ruin what we have if she doesn’t feel the same.”

“Hm,” she says, twisting her hands on the table in front of her. She has to manage this one carefully, so as not to give too much away. “Is there any indication of whether she feels the same way?”

Rowan glances back to his phone. “He says; there are moments where I think she feels the same, there are moments where I think I could press my lips to hers and she’d kiss me back. There are moments she looks at me and it looks as though it would be impossible for her not to feel the way I do.”

“She sounds like a lucky girl,” Aelin says almost wistfully.

“You think?” Rowan asks, and she’s not sure his question makes sense.

“Don’t you?” she asks. “If they have these moments, moments where he could kiss her and she’d kiss him back, the moments where they get lost in each other's eyes, I don’t think those things can be made up.”

She ignores the way she always feels as though she catches herself in these moments with Rowan. She ignores them and plows straight on through.

“If he’s having these thoughts enough that they feel like a moment, they probably are.”

“Damn, Aelin.” Rowan smiles across the table. “Any advice for the poor guy?”

“Oh, it’s simple,” she says smoothly, “he has to tell her how he feels. Don’t waste any more time, if you’re reading her this way and she’s your best friend I think there’s very little chance you’ve got this wrong. If you’re listening to this,” she says leaning forwards so her voice is clear in the recording, “get the girl. Take a chance, tell her how you feel. Start small, ask her to go on a date.”

Rowan nods, the movement a sharp jerk but a smile plays on his lips. He looks up to her, his eyes meeting hers.

“Alright, Aelin. Go out with me. A date.”

She laughs, a bright sound, not allowing herself to jump to conclusions. “Is that what it says?”

His eyes flick back to his phone before he locks it and slides it onto the table. “It doesn’t say anything.”

“What do you mean?”

She’s very confused now. Is he playing with her? Has he noticed the way she feels? Surely Rowan isn’t so cruel to mock her like this.

“There’s no submission, it’s me, it’s you. Go out with me Aelin?”

Her mouth drops open.

“Go out with you? You like me?”

She’s stunned okay? Cut her a little slack.

He laughs, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “This was quite possibly not my best idea,” he says. “To go about it like this. I thought it would have worked well.”

“You’re serious?” she says, a smile creeping into her voice.

“As a heart attack.”

She pulls her headset off, needing to feel this moment just the two of them. Rowan does the same, vulnerability shining in his gorgeous, green eyes.

“Rowan,” she breathes. “I’ve been into you since day one. I thought there was no way you were interested in me.”

She stands, rising from her chair and almost floating over to him until she stands between his legs. She gently rests a hand on his shoulder as she leans down. His hands come up to her waist and pull her onto his lap.

She settles with a smile as she reaches up to cup his cheek in her palm.

“I’ll edit this out tomorrow,” is all she says before she closes the gap between them, pressing her lips to his, sealing it with a kiss.

[landinoandco]

|Shutter speed|

Chapter two : A New Beginning

{Lando Norris x Reader}

Summary: A photographer. A pair of F1 drivers. Triangles. A sticky situation of morals and fighting fate. What could go wrong?

Warnings: none :) apart from a mention of grief and passing of a loved one

Rating: teen and up

Word count: 2.9 k 

A/n: welcome to the second chapter of 'Shutter speed.'

I'm going to start a taglist so comment on this post or message me if you would like to be added :)

Previous chapters: Chapter one

Chapter two: A new beginning

By the time Georgie had raced home, it had stopped raining and the sun was beginning to fight its way through the mass of clouds that had filled the sky. The journey home had given Georgie plenty of time to think - to mull everything over about the crazy afternoon she had just endured. They had finally booked their first event since lockdown, the insanely attractive stranger she had met in the coffee shop but somehow it all ended back to a person she thought she had finished thinking about - not that you ever could. Her Theo. Her lovely Theo. 

Theodore was her childhood sweetheart. Theo was everything to her, llike Georgie was everything to him. They had their whole future planned out: travelling around the world and experiencing different cultures, photographing their entire experience and showcasing the beginning of their journey through life on an Instagram they had set up. Before settling down and starting a family of their own. Together. It was going to finish like all the fairy tales did...

And everybody lived happily ever after.

In hindsight, they had jinxed themselves before they had even started, not long after they had finished their A - levels and about to start their next chapter at Uni - Theo had fallen ill. Georgie refuses to acknowledge the illness for she believes it shouldn’t be the way he is remembered, instead reminiscing on the short but meaningful life he lived. Theo died not long after he was diagnosed, leaving Georgie behind with a new and tainted meaning to happily ever after because if it wasn’t with him then what did it truly mean? 

As they say hindsight is a wonderful thing.

Even now, 5 years on, 23 years of age, she is still plagued with the memories and the thoughts of everything they could have had but for some reason the universe was against it all. She hated to think of herself as unlucky because she was blessed to have met Theo in the first place. 

Shaking the memories from her head, she unlocked the apartment door and trudged through - hanging her coat and bag on the hooks then making her way over to the breakfast bar. On top was a fluorescent post-it note that read: “Popped into the city to pick up some new lenses for the cameras. Fill you in when I get back. Fancy getting a takeaway tonight to celebrate? Love you lots ~ Maisie.” 

A takeaway was exactly what was needed. She thought. And a nice warm shower. 

The thing Georgie loves about showers is that they give her the ability to find an answer and solution to pretty much everything and anything. She spent a lot of time in the shower after Theo passed, it was the only thing she could justify enjoying. Striping her clothes off and chucking them into a pile on the floor, she reached into the shower to turn it on - the water immediately rushing out and crashing loudly onto the floor. As soon as she was happy with the temperature, she stepped in - letting the warm water droplets wash all of her worries away. It was the only thing that she felt helped her relax; come to terms with everything she was feeling. 

Her first and main worry was what they were going to do after Goodwood. If they didn’t find consistent work soon they were going to run out of money - they were lucky to have made some good investments and savings leading up to this point to have coped through lockdown. 

Georgie grabbed the shampoo and rubbed it thoroughly through her long waves. She had been to Goodwood a few years back -  Theo had taken her. It was the best date she had ever been on - she remembered it as clear as day. They had found an empty bench to sit on next to the hill the cars climbed in the ever popular annual hill climb - it was there and then they had decided they wanted to spend the rest of their lives together and travel the world. 

Stepping back under the water, she let the water take the shampoo away, watching as the bubbles slipped through the drain. Theo had been a massive formula one fan - dragging Georgie into the sport as well. Jenson Button had been his favourite driver and McLaren his favourite team so naturally that was hers as well. As soon as he passed Georgie had nothing to do with the sport - she refused to watch it and stopped keeping up with the teams. 

She reached for the conditioner bottle, pressing her lips together in a tight line. All of this thought about Theo and the racing world she turned her back on - a slight regret forming in the pit of her stomach, was she ready to go back to it? She remembered the atmosphere of Goodwood when she had been, people from all over the world gathered to celebrate the one thing they had in common: their love for cars. She was slightly envious of the people who got to travel the world, following in the car's tyre tracks and capturing the moments you only get to experience once in a lifetime. 

Georgie paused and furrowed her eyebrows, she was struck with an idea. Whether it was absolutely brilliant or outright stupid and unrealistic, she was yet to find out. Hoping out of the shower and grabbing her towel, she made her way to her room. It was worth a look, she supposed, there was no harm in that. Once she was dressed, she sat at her desk and turned on her laptop; begging fate to be on her side today. 

“Honey, I’m home.” Called a voice from the kitchen. 

“Hey sweetie.” Georgie shouted back, “I’ll be with you in just a moment.” 

She pulled up the McLaren careers page, her mouse hovering over the view jobs link. Georgie was ready to travel the world. She was ready to experience life again - after all it was Theo’s dying wish that she completed everything they were setting out to do. Perhaps she was selfish for not coming to this conclusion sooner. 

She clicked. 

Taking one last deep breath, Georgie placed her hands to her forehead and moved her face closer to the screen as she read through the roles. Tyre performance engineer. No. Finance analyst - production. Definitely not. Hope was diminishing rapidly even though it was as she had expected. The chances of finding anything suitable were low. She was coming to the bottom of the list when a role jumped out at her. But not impossible apparently. 

Lead photographer - team. 

And the deadline was Tuesday at 11.59 pm. They had the best part of 6 hours to complete this application. It was going to be tight but possible. 

She jumped up and rubbed her hands over her face in disbelief. Running her hands through her hair, she sat back down - hardly being able to keep still. It was only an application advert - many people were going to be applying. She thought as she exhaled loudly. More experienced people. Skimming through the description and requirements, she almost felt like she was dreaming. It was perfect. The role was to travel with the whole team and capture every moment to later be used on social media and advertising. 

“Everything alright in here?” Maisie poked her head around the door. She was faced with an almost tearful Georige. Her words almost trailed off.

“Do you want to travel the world?” Georgie asked her, her voice wavering slightly.  Maisie seemed taken aback as she moved into the room and sat on Georgie’s bed. “I’m sorry - what? Have you forgotten what’s been going on recently?”

“With a formula one team, Mclaren to be precise.” Georgie corrected and moved aside so Maisie could see the screen. Silence fell between the pair as Maisie read on, Georgie’s leg had started bouncing in anticipation. Minutes later she was met with a frown. “That’s not quite how I had imagined you would react.” Georgia mumbled, sighing. She mirrored her friend's expression, chewing on her bottom lip. 

“Before we start fantasizing, I just want to make sure you’re ok with this.” Maisie said softly, taking one of Georgia’s hand in hers. Georgia nodded slowly, rubbing her thumb over her friend’s hand. “This would be his dream. I know he’s watching us - he really is looking out for us, Maise. I want to do it for him.”  

Maisie’s smile grew, “As long as you’re sure. Come, let’s discuss it over take away and I will explain how this weekend is going to work.” Georgie stood up, grabbing her laptop and a notebook, “One thing is for sure. We are going to need one hell of a portfolio.” 

It was now Sunday - the final day at Goodwood. 

To say the rest of their week leading up to this point went smoothly would be a lie. In the end it all got a bit complicated. They submitted their application at 10:58 pm that Tuesday evening - due to it only being a singular role they applied as their business in hope that the combined experience would set them apart from other candidates. Wednesday they spent the day prepping for Goodwood - trying out the new lenses and practising photographing cars they found around London. They were going to watch the Goodwood livestream on Youtube Thursday and Friday to see what they were going to be faced with that Saturday. Until Maisie received a call. It was Mclaren and they had gotten through to the interviews - all taking place that Thursday afternoon on teams. As it turns out, they wanted to have hired someone for the role by Friday in order to be ready for the British Grand Prix the following weekend. 

“I mean it makes sense,” Maisie said, blowing her coffee to cool it down before taking a long sip. “It is their home grand prix after all.” 

Georgie chuckled, “It’s just, I feel like if we were to explain to anyone they would think we were making this up. It’s all happening so quickly.” 

That Friday, ahead of their debut at Goodwood on the Saturday, they got the call. According to the lady Maisie spoke to, it was very close between them and another candidate but the fact they were working at Goodwood tipped the scales in their favour. 

“And.” Maisie started. “We are going to meet with a man called Zac Brown on Sunday, he is the CEO of McLaren Racing-” Georgie was very lucky to have Maisie as she was the businessman - or women in this case - out of the pair. Her people skills were unmatched, how she did it Georgie would never understand. 

Now on Sunday, Georgie was quite sad to see it coming to an end. The atmosphere was one that she had never quite experienced before - it was one that filled her with pride and adoration; something she hadn’t felt in a long time, not to this extent anyway. The whole weekend, a beaming smile had been plastered onto her face - so much so that her facial muscles were beginning to ache. The whole community of people were ecstatic to be there, watching on in excitement as a sport that had missed the company of their crowds opened its doors once again. It wasn’t long before she had agreed to meet with Maisie ahead of their meeting with Zac Brown that she found herself walking up the infamous hill. The loud buzz of conversation seemed to fade, instead the only sound she could hear was the rumble of engines as they came cruising by. She stopped at a clearing where a bench stood proudly, smiling softly to herself as she slung her camera strap over her shoulder, stuffing her hands into her trouser pockets. It hadn’t aged a day. 

Lando Norris had decided to take a break from the main McLaren marquee - he had just finished his final drive of the day and was looking for some time to reflect on the weekend he had just had after having the honour of driving the three cars that Aryton Senna won McLaren their championship titles. It had been a tough season leading up to this point - after Carlos left to join Ferrari he felt this year all eyes would be on him. Many expected Lando to fall into the shadow of his new teammate Daniel Ricciardo, everybody expected him to fade back into the background. Perhaps that was why he trained so hard during the winter break - he had pushed himself right up to the limit. Lando wanted to prove to himself more than anyone else that he was a good driver and he did have potential to fight those at the top, after the taste of a podium in Austria - he was hungry for more. Even as a young boy during his karting career, Lando put pressure on himself - to strive to be the best on the grid - sometimes it meant he forgot to enjoy himself because he was so worried about what other people thought about him. 

He had reached a clearing past the trees. All weekend he had kept half an eye out for the girl at the coffee shop. Part of him was disappointed not to have seen her, he really wanted that second chance. He came to a stop and checked his watch - it wasn’t long until Zac wanted him back; he mentioned briefly about a pair of photographers joining the team. They would be replacing his friend Jason after he decided that travelling just wasn’t practical anymore, who could blame him, his first child was on the way and he wanted to be there with his wife every step of the way. 

Lando brushed a hand through his curls, casting his gaze around before he would make his way back. When a bench caught his eye or more specifically the girl sitting on the bench. She sat with a content smile dancing on her lips, a reminiscent glaze coated her eyes. He took a step towards her, there was something familiar about her. It was like his feet were frozen in place - his brain was telling him to go back but his gut told him to stay put. He stood for a minute or two before it hit him - square in the face and quite frankly he couldn’t believe his luck. It was the girl from the coffee shop. Right in front of him. It was now or never. Lando took a calming breath before going and sitting next to her. 

Georgie was rudely pulled from her thoughts when a person sat down on the bench next to her. She moved her head slightly to see who the intruder was when her heart stopped. Recognition dawned on her face. Georgie knew instantly he had recognised her as the corners of his mouth twitched into a shy smile. “Hi.” His tone silvery and almost breathy. 

“Hey.” She beamed back, “I’m Georgie.” She said, gazing up at him, admiring the way the sun caught around his halo of curls giving them an almost angelic glow.

“Lando.” He told to her, the corners of his eyes crinkled slightly. Neither of them could quite believe that they were sitting with each other. 

“I - uh - It’s a wonderful day for it, isn’t it.” Georgie had panicked. She didn’t know what else to say and her mother used to always say:  ‘if in doubt talk about the weather.’ It was something along those lines anyway.  Silently cursing herself, she cringed at her awkwardness only to hear him chuckle at her comment. 

“It’s much better now the rain has cleared off.” Lando instantly felt relaxed around her, he didn’t know what it was. Perhaps it was that she seemed just as socially inadequate as he was. “So Georgie.” He savoured the way her name rolled off his tongue. “What brings you to Goodwood? I hope you don’t mind me saying this but I heard you talking about it before you rushed off the other day.” 

Georgie inched closer, almost leaning into the comfort and warmth he seemed to provide. “My friend and I are photographers and she somehow got us into working for the Goodwood Festival of Speed brand. I still don’t quite know how she did it, for some reason she didn’t want to talk about it.” She trailed off, a pink tinge creeping onto her cheeks as she had come to a rather astonishing conclusion. The corner of Lando’s mouth lifted at her innocence. “Anyway.” She moved on quickly. “As it turns out I am also here to meet my new boss.” 

“It’s almost like it was meant to be.” Lando quirked. “Who are you working for now?” 

“I’m the new photographer for the McLaren formula one team.” She explained, pride laced in her tone. Lando’s eyes widened, his mouth fell open in disbelief before he caught himself. Composed his expressions and stated very plainly...

“I’m Lando Norris. I drive for the McLaren formula one team. As it turns out you and I are about to attend the same meeting.” 

Taglist: (please message me or leave a comment if you would like to be added :))

@mjuikoli​ @httplayer​ @phatyak​

[lesbchiyu]

|| her puppet

part 3 of “what if”

bonten rindou x slight makima!reader

pronouns: she/her

warnings: manipulation ( from the reader ) inappropriate language , & some swearing

Rindou, unlike his reckless older brother, had a deep hatred for the mysterious woman developing inside of him and all he could think of doing was wiping off that taunting smirk off her face but the eeriness surrounding y/n had been enough for anyone to be cautious and unwilling to do such a thing to her.

y/n on the other hand enjoyed pulling out a reaction from rindou, it had reminded her that behind that stone cold facade was a little boy easily swayed and blinded by anger from not only current life but his past too, this is how y/n effortlessly reached into rindou’s soul and filled it up with herself.

the first piece of the soul that broke off and was replaced had been when rindou realized ran became one of her puppets; little things like following y/n around, taking her black blazer into his hand and hanging it over her chair before slightly pulling out her seat, talking about her consistently as if ran was in love with the thought of her.

the second piece would have been enough to break anyone down but rindou knew that he could never submit to y/n although he could feel himself slipping every second he was in her presence and the simple fact that her words were bulldozing every wall of confidence rindou had, is this how y/n controls people?

the third piece had been a huge chunk with y/n flashing that beautiful smile he had once hated “aren’t you tired of living in ran’s shadow? you could be more rindou, see that man on the wall? can you tell me who he is?” pointing to a picture of a man in his early 40s with a scar above his eyebrow and smug smile, he shrugged “what the hell does it matter? he’s an old asswipe anyway” rindou responded earning a melodic chuckle from y/n as she made her way around the table and in front of rindou.

“definitely interesting choice of words but incorrect, Mr. Kane owns many businesses and buildings around the surrounding area” y/n stated only to receive an eye roll from rindou “what’s the point of telling me this bullshit? just give me the papers and I’ll be on my way” at this point rindou could feel himself breaking and he needed to get himself out of there before y/n caught him in her grip “He was just like you, starting businesses with his eldest brother and the amount of hardwork he put into each of them was credited to his elder brother and never once did anyone acknowledge him” y/n continued as she started to fix rindou’s tie which unbeknownst to him had been a mess.

“Mr.Kane came to me and I gave him all the power, he became his own man with a price of course…think about it rindou” patting his tie after fixing it, she did a shooing motion with her hand “that’s all, you may leave with the papers and bid mikey my deepest apologies for keeping you back like this” without more words exchanged, rindou grabbed the papers that were resting by his hand on the table and made a beeline out of the room.

thinking her plans failed due to the unusual silence from rindou haitani, y/n considered this her first defeat until one ring from the telephone on her desk “hello, this is y/n speaking” slow nervous breathing could be heard from the other end which made y/n let out a dry chuckle “so, you’ve taken up my offer?” another round of silence before she heard a sigh “I want to have power…please ms. y/ln” letting out a hum, y/n now had full control of rindou.

“of course my beautiful puppet, you look stunning next to my jewel”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 4,577 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, mentions of abuse, violence, sexuality, nudity, typical TWD A/N: STUFF. IS. HAPPENING! A/N: This is part of a series! Find the previous parts on the Masterlist! Summary: The Hilltop and Alexandria are well into preparations for the war against the Saviors, and someone goes missing.

Your name: submit What is this?

A couple weeks later

It had been an eventful couple of weeks. Alexandria and Hilltop were well into preparations for the first hammer blows to fall against the Saviors, but the Kingdom, the latest community Jesus had introduced you to, had just decided to join in the fight after shit went sideways. You and Daryl had stayed there for a few days to help before heading back to Hilltop. The biggest relief was finding Carol safe and sound, although changed from how both you and Daryl remembered her. You knew it was weighing on the archer, but there was simply too much to do to spend more time there and try to figure out exactly what was going on...

The intel from Dwight so far had been untested but consistent. He was keeping you all apprised of the Saviors movements and what Negan seemed to be focused on. There had been some concern after the discovery of the bodies that you and Daryl had been responsible for out by the survivalist cache, but the Saviors seemed to think it was a chance one-off skirmish with some other group and no more heat had come your way. Of course, Negan continued to pressure and terrorize Rick and Alexandria, but they had been able to keep him placated so far with supplies. But that wasn’t going to last forever, and it was almost time to kick the hornets’ nest.

The fine weather, moderate temperatures and ample sunshine, were in harsh contrast to the anxiety and worry plaguing you as you all prepared for a war that you were sure would result in heavy losses. That particular day, Daryl found you down by the armory, helping to sort and finish weapons that had just come from the blacksmith. His tall frame darkened the doorway, and although Daryl was well aware of how worried you were, you still always had a smile for him. He stopped and leaned on the table across from you, drinking in the sight. “Hey.”

“Hey. What’s up?” you asked, setting aside some broadhead arrows.

“Ya still wanna do that pick-up from the ammo cache today?” he asked.

You nodded. “I think we have to.”

He straightened up and nodded. “Yeah. I think so too. I’ll get the gear and my bike. Ya about done here?” he asked.

“Done. Let me just drop these few off to be sharpened. I’ll meet you down by the gate.”

Daryl nudged his nose up in a nod and headed to your trailer to collect the gear you would need. He was just about done, zipping up his pack, when he heard hurried footsteps coming up to the door, followed by urgent knocking.

Daryl spun and rushed to open it. Jesus was standing on the top step looking deeply concerned. “I think we might have a problem,” he said.

_ _ _ _ _ _

“Well, when was the last time anybody saw the little weasel?” you asked, pacing the length of the trailer anxiously. Maggie, Sasha, and Enid were gathered too.

“That’s what I mean. I’m not even sure,” Jesus said. “He’s just been holing up in his office drinking lately. By the time I realized he wasn’t around anywhere I couldn’t even tell how long he’d been gone.”

Daryl let out a low growl. “We shoulda locked his ass up. Guarantee he’s runnin’ off to find some Saviors,” he roared.

Jesus looked dumbfounded. “I never thought he’d actually try something like this. He’ll be lucky if they don’t kill him.”

You rubbed your hands over your face and shut your eyes for a moment. “It doesn’t matter. We can’t go back and stop him, if that’s really what he’s up to. The only thing we can do now is prepare for what’s going to happen.” You met Daryl’s eyes. “Our timeline just accelerated. We need to get word to the Kingdom and Alexandria ASAP.”

Daryl nodded gravely, a shadow over his narrowed blue eyes. “Did he know ‘bout that radio of theirs we’ve got?”

“No. He definitely didn’t,” Jesus said.

“Well, at least there’s that,” Maggie said. “I’ll handle gettin’ the volunteers here all armed and come up with a final defense plan. I’m sure they’re gonna be knockin’ sooner rather than later.”

Sasha shook her head, anger plain on her face. “I’ll set extra watches on the wall. Thank God we didn’t cut him in on our plans.”

“Yeah,” Daryl agreed, straightening up. “Never trusted the bastard. If I see him, he’s a dead man. We’ve got one thing goin’ for us at least. They’re gonna think we ain’t armed or prepared at all. They’re gonna think they’ll be surprising us, but they’re wrong.”

Jesus sighed heavily. “I’ll contact Rick and The Kingdom and then stay glued to that radio. If I hear anything, anything at all, I’ll make the rounds.”

You all had your plans and you watched as everyone cleared out of the trailer. Daryl turned to see you frozen and your face dark with worry.

He moved around the table and stopped in front of you, his hands reflexively landing gently on your hips. “Hey. This ain’t it. It ain’t over,” he said.

You nodded and met his blue eyes. “I know. That’s what scares me. It’s just starting. All the—all the death and destruction is coming. It’s like being on a set of train tracks with a locomotive bearing down and nowhere to go.” Your eyes turned downward, but not fast enough to hide the glassiness in them.

“Hey.” Daryl gently clasped your face and your wide eyes met his again. “Everything is gonna be alright.”

“You don’t know that…”

Daryl nodded and brushed a strand of your hair away from your face. “Ya. I do. ‘Cuz we’ve been makin’ these plans, and they’re all good. Smart. It’s like ya said. Timeline gets bumped up, but they ain’t winnin’. And I will do everything I have to, to keep ya safe. You and every one of our people.”

There was still some seed of doubt in your eyes, but your fear seemed to have diminished some and you nodded before looping your arms around his neck and hugging him against you tightly. Daryl sank into you, breathing in the semi-sweet scent of your hair and smoothing his hands over your back. “I’ve got you,” you murmured into the crook of his neck. Even despite the bad news, Daryl couldn’t help but smile.

“Mhm. And I got ya.” He was still bewildered by your constancy and how each of you seemed to carry the other when you most needed it. It was a give and take he had hardly known in his life. There were no strings attached, no deals or bargaining. You were just there.

The rest of the evening was chaotic as you rushed around preparing for what could come at any moment, but it was almost midnight and still there was no word over the radio that the Saviors were moving.

“If he went on foot, he won’t be anywhere near the closest Savior outpost until tomorrow. And that’s assuming he somehow manages to survive,” Jesus said.

You glanced toward the gate and the inky blackness beyond. “Closest ones we know about…” you said quietly.

Daryl shifted a little anxiously, your worry being his. “Jesus is right though. We best try and get some sleep while we can. Who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

You sighed, but Daryl saw you soften. “Yeah.” You placed a friendly hand on Jesus’ shoulder. “Wake us up if you hear a single peep over that radio.”

He gave you a tight smile and nodded. “You got it. Goodnight.”

“Night,” Daryl drawled, falling into stride behind you back to the trailer. He shut the door behind himself and simply watched you drifting about the space for a moment, getting ready for bed. You felt his eyes on you and paused, turning to read his expression.

“What are you thinking?” you asked the archer.

He shrugged and drifted toward you. “Nothin’. Tryin’ not to.”

You nodded and turned to face him, unable to stand the space between you any longer. You pushed the curtain of dark hair framing his face out of eyes and gently rested your hand lightly along his jaw. “You’re so strong, Daryl. Whatever else happens, I at least know you’re gonna come through this just fine. Hell, you’ll probably be the one to put Negan in the ground.”

“Hey.” He grabbed your hand in both of his, and marveled at how small and fragile it felt, despite how strong he knew you were too. “ What’d I tell ya? We are gonna be just fine.” He pressed your hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. You smiled at the forcefulness of his assertion followed by the tenderness of his action afterwards. “C’mon. Let’s at least try and catch a little sleep.” He tilted his head in the direction of the bed and you were eager to comply, falling down heavily with your head on the pillow. Daryl moved behind you until he could press his body against you. This time he was the one who moved until he could tangle his legs with yours. He draped an arm over your waist and his fingers tickled against the bare skin of your side, exposed by the way your t-shirt was draping. His hand suddenly sought more of that contact, pressing lightly, skin to skin.

You smiled at the sensation and your heart raced a little with him seeking that intimacy.

“S’this alright?” he asked softly, his breath tickling your ear.

“Mhm,” you hummed, smoothing your hand over the back of his and pulling him more tightly against you. You shut your eyes and breathed out your tension. You felt Daryl relaxing against you too, and despite all the fear and anxiety of the day, you both were soon fast asleep, feeling safe and like you were safely at home.

_ _ _ _ _ _

By the time the sun was up, you and Daryl were both awake and busy. And it wasn’t long before Jesus came striding up with a grave expression on his face, the radio in his hand. You felt your stomach twist. “What is it? Are they coming?”

He only nodded. “They’re moving out this afternoon.”

“To where?” Daryl asked gruffly. “Just here?”

“I think so,” Jesus said. “I haven’t heard any mention of Alexandria. But if Gregory did make it and did spill everything he knows, they’ll be heading there eventually.”

You felt like the wind had been knocked out of you for a brief moment before you steeled yourself again. You brought forward the image of your brother in your mind. You thought of the workers trapped in the Sanctuary with no way out, of Negan’s ‘wives’, of everything he had done to Daryl and to you and countless others… And your fear and anxiety didn’t dissipate, but it took a backseat to determination and anger. You gulped. “Fine. Good. Let them come. We’re ready.”

Daryl felt a swell of admiration for you and he nodded. “We are. That’s what all these plans have been for.” He glanced back at you, knowing you weren’t going to like the next thing he was going to say. “I gotta go check the drop-off location. Dwight might have more info,” he drawled.

A shadow darkened your expression. “What? Now? Daryl, they’re headed our way!”

“I gotta check. It was the plan. He’d get us word if shit was kicking off.”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t like it. You’re gonna go out there? What if—what if you can’t get back in time. What if—”

Jesus seemed to sense that the two of you needed a moment. “I’ll go start spreading the word, get everyone to their assignments.” He rushed off, leaving you behind staring at Daryl with renewed worry.

“Daryl, you can’t—”

He gulped, admittedly not liking the idea of separating from you while you were all seemingly standing on the threshold of potentially the hardest fight of your lives. But he had to go. He had to check. What if there was information waiting that would save lives? What if the Saviors somehow had found out you had that radio and this was going to be misdirection? “I gotta go. This was the plan.”

“Fine, then I’m coming with you!”

“Nah. Ya can’t. Everybody needs ya here. There’s too much to do to get ready.” He paused to read your expression. You looked pissed. “Ya know I’m right.”

You were wrestling with another upwelling of fear. But this was Daryl. He was a warrior. And he needed to do this. It wasn’t fair for you to try and selfishly keep him behind the walls with you when there could be critical information waiting out there. You sighed and shut your eyes for a moment and nodded. “Okay… alright.” You pointed at him vehemently. “But you come back in one piece, Daryl Dixon! I mean it!”

He couldn’t help but smile a little at you. Your tone reminded him of so many times you had scolded him for ignoring an injury or being stubborn. He nudged his nose up at you. “I will. I’ll come back to ya. Promise.”

Your anxiety wasn’t relieved but you nodded. “Okay… Come here,” you said, your tone softened.

That was all Daryl needed. He paced over to you, chewing his bottom lip a little thoughtfully, and just waited for your touch. Your hands rested lightly on his sides and you looked up and met his blue eyes.

“I mean it. Come back.”

“Mm,” he hummed. “I will.” His arms looped around your lower back and pulled you against him. He watched, still amazed every time, as you shut your eyes and arched up onto your toes so your lips met his. Your kiss was gentle and soft at first, but he deepened it, tangling his fingers in your hair and relished the way your lips moved effortlessly with his, the taste of you and feel of you all he needed. When you finally broke apart, your eyes stayed linked with is for a long moment.

“Be careful,” was all you could whisper. Daryl nodded and slipped from you, heading for his bike by the gate. You crossed your arms over your chest like a shield, still feeling the ghost of his hands and lips on you, and watched his broad shoulders until they disappeared.

_ _ _ _ _ _

You purposely kept yourself so busy you hardly had a moment to think while Daryl was outside the walls. You were stocking ammo at strategic locations around Hilltop when Maggie came bounding up to you with a relieved smile.

“He’s back,” she said.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding since he left. You nodded and murmured a thank you, before glancing at the pile of supplies you were sorting. She laughed. “I got it. Go on,” she said kindly, taking your place.

You reached him as he was climbing off his bike and Daryl gave you a smile that made your heart jump. “How’d it go?” you asked, nervous to hear what info he had, if any.

“No problems. Couple walkers,” he said with a shrug.

“And nobody saw you? And you didn’t see anyone?” He shook his head.

“Not that I know of. I was careful,” he drawled. “Got somethin’ though.” His tone changed. There was tension in his voice and it made the gravel more pronounced.

You felt your throat constrict with nerves. “Okay. What is it?”

Daryl pulled out a small piece of paper, left in the agreed upon location by Dwight. “He’ll be here.”

“Negan,” you said. It wasn’t a question

Daryl nodded. “Mhm,” he hummed. He looked about how you felt. Determined, disgusted, and angry.

You nodded. “Okay. So, he’ll be here. So, what? Doesn’t change anything,” you said. Daryl was watching you carefully, worried with the realization that this would be the first time you’d have to see him since busting out of the Sanctuary. It would be like if his own father suddenly showed up at the gates. It would be understandable if you were a bit apprehensive or shaken up at the idea. But instead, to his continued amazement, you just looked pissed. Maybe you were trying to hide how much it was affecting you, but Daryl couldn’t see anything other than determined anger. He licked his lips a little nervously and nodded. “They ain’t comin’ to fight. This time. They’re comin’ to give us a chance to give up. Probably think that once we realize Gregory has snitched that we’ll fold.”

You scoffed. “Not gonna happen.”

Daryl glanced down at the paper in his hands one more time. “They’re goin’ to Alexandria tomorrow. Same thing. After that, they’ll get ready to fight us if we don’t give up.”

You nodded. “I guess it’s really starting then.”

Daryl nodded. “Yeah.” He reached out and laced his fingers with yours. “But we’re ready.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

“I don’t understand why we’re here to chat instead of hitting them before they know what’s coming,” Simon said vehemently, matching Negan’s long strides as they approached the heavy wooden gate to Hilltop.

Negan turned a piercing glare to his lieutenant. “People. Are. A resource,” he growled. “Dead people don’t work for me, do they, Simon? They don’t gather supplies. They don’t work in the Sanctuary. They don’t do a damn thing except rot in the sun or feed the dead, do they? There is a goddamn good reason why I am in charge instead of you. And this is the last time I’m going to remind you of that. In fact you should be grateful you aren’t out on the fence after all of this was happening right under your oversized nose.” The look on his face was dangerous, vicious, his lip almost curling.

Simon hung his thumbs in his belt and averted his gaze down toward his boots. “Right. Sorry.” But he was biting back anger.

“Don’t question me again,” Negan growled, pointing at Simon with his trusty sidekick, the barbed-wire wrapped baseball bat he called Lucille. Negan of course knew that all of you inside knew he was already there, but he raised a cheerful sounding hello at the gate. “Hello! The Saviors are here!”

Two guards appeared over the top of the fence, glaring down at the convoy of trucks and assembled men. “Ah, there we go. Would you mind opening the gates and letting us in?” Negan asked, keeping his manufactured charm thick.

“We won’t be letting you in. Not today. And not ever again.” This was a new voice, and Sasha appeared over the top of the fence now too, her trusty rifle clutched in hand.

Negan laughed and grinned up at her. “Oh, I remember you,” he said. “Well, is there someone else here I could have a civilized conversation with? There are some very important matters that need discussing.”

“Everyone in here will tell you the same thing,” Sasha spat back at him. “And that’s ‘Go to Hell.””

There was a quick flash of rage in Negan’s eyes, like a lightning bolt, but it was gone immediately and replaced with another charming smile. He laughed loudly. “Oh, come on, now! I know just who you have in there that I would just love to talk to! WHERE’S MY DARYL AT?!” he roared. “Little pig, little pig, let me come in!”

Sasha only glared down at Negan in disgust.

“Huh. Not very friendly, are they, Simon?”

“Not friendly at all, Negan,” Simon answered.

“I don’t know what you think you’re hiding back there,” Negan said, gesturing toward the gate with Lucille. “Because I have all the inside information I could possibly want courtesy of one of yours.” Negan snapped his fingers. “Dwight! Bring my best friend Gregory out here!”

Gregory was pushed forward through the crowd and Dwight grabbed his elbow and led him forward.

“You see, Gregory here has already told me that The Hilltop and Alexandria are working together. And I know that there are some more of you Alexandrians hiding out here while Rick the Prick is back there plotting my downfall with enthusiasm. But the thing is you can’t win. We are better prepared, and better supplied, and there are simply more of US. So, I thought we’d come on down here and give you one. last. chance. to do the right thing and fall back in line.” He paused and looked thoughtful, keeping up his charming, amiable act up until this very last part. “Because if you don’t, we will rain death and hellfire down on you. And believe me when I say that I do not want to do that. But I will.”

You and Daryl were backed up against the outer wall on the guard stand, right beside Sasha, keeping out of sight. But Daryl saw just a split second before you did it that you were barely keeping your anger in check.

“Y/N—Don’t—” he whispered harshly.

But you couldn’t just hide anymore. You stood up and peered over the wall, immediately meeting Negan’s eyes.

You were surprised to see that he looked surprised. “We’re not taking any more of your bullshit, Negan. You’re done. This is your last chance to walk away.”

But instead of responding to what you were saying, Negan was simply peering at you for a long moment before he resumed his usual persona. “You have got to be kidding me! Y/N? My wife is with you people?” He clicked his tongue and clenched his jaw. “Ain’t that just a kick in the crotch? And here I was thinking that you just took advantage of the chaos of my Daryl breaking out to escape again… You always were the type to get restless. But it seems maybe I need reevaluate that chain of events!”

Negan seized the back of Gregory’s neck hard and yanked him forward. “You know, it’s funny, because I specifically remember asking for the names of everyone hiding out in Hilltop and Y/N, your name, never came up,” he growled.

Gregory was shaking from head to toe. “I—I’m sorry! I got her name wrong! I didn’t remember—”

Negan looked like he was ready to strangle Gregory when your laughter broke through his pleading. Negan’s eyes shot back to your face. “That should give you some idea of the quality of information you’re working with from him. You might want to rethink things,” you said, leaning on the top of the fence casually, like you were discussing the weather.

You knew that if there was one thing Negan hated more than anyone defying him, it was being made to look weak.

He ran his thumb thoughtfully over his bottom lip as he stared up at you.

“You cocky little bitch,” Simon suddenly drew his pistol and pointed it straight at you.

You didn’t even flinch, but Sasha and the two other guards all had their guns to their shoulders and aimed right back at Simon.

Negan was furious as he turned toward his lieutenant. Simon felt Negan’s eyes like they were burning a hole in his skull and he waivered. Negan spoke to him through a growl. “Put your goddamn gun down. Now. I told you, she comes back to me alive.” Simon lowered his gun.

You felt your stomach twist. You weren’t sure whether Negan had meant for it to be heard or not, but the effect on you was an instantaneous, overwhelming sick feeling. You managed to keep your expression blank, but you knew that if Negan did ever get you back alive, you would be in for a fate worse than death.

Daryl’s hands landed lightly on your hips from behind and he gently pulled you slightly back, stepping forward, protectively putting his body in front of yours, glaring Negan down.

Negan noticed and it was like he suddenly flipped a switch back to his old persona. He grinned and chuckled. “Daryl, Daryl, Daryl…” He took in how close the two of you were standing, how Daryl was guarding you, and he realized… “So, what’s this? You two? You’re together? Really? Daryl, you and Y/N? I mean, I don’t know, but that doesn’t seem to make any sense to me.” He chuckled again as he watched Daryl’s chest heave with angry breaths.

“Wow. Alright. I don’t get it but, hey, some women like dumpster diving.” You watched Daryl’s entire body tense and you laced your fingers with his, resting your other hand on his arm, wishing more than anything that you could just shoot Negan in the fucking head right at that moment.

Negan knew what effect he was having on Daryl. He saw it. And he went on, grinning. “Did she tell you about all the things we did together? Dirty, dirty things…” He bit his bottom lip and cultivated a starry-eyed and vague smile on his face, remembrance. “And she is either a fantastic actress, or she was having just as much fun as I was, because I really didn’t have to do any convincing. I mean, she is good… I still dream about it and wake up rock hard…” he trailed off, grinning widely as he saw your face burning with anger and humiliation. You couldn’t help but be extremely aware of the fact that the entire Hilltop community was standing right behind the gate, listening to every word exchanged. You felt like you’d just been outed. Daryl shifted uncomfortably, his fist clenching.

“Oh my God,” Negan laughed, his eyebrows lifting. “Don’t tell me you two haven’t fucked yet?” He chewed his bottom lip, nodding, knowing exactly how much this was torturing both of you. “Oh, Daryl. You don’t know what you’re missing! This is some biblical level shit. I’m talking Whore of Babylon! I mean, really, you have no idea what—” But Negan had to duck as Daryl pulled his gun and fired a shot that whizzed just past his head and struck the truck behind him. Instantly, about fifty guns were aimed your way. The archer’s chest was heaving with anger as he glared through the drifting cloud of gun smoke. And this time when Negan straightened back up, the cocky smile and manufactured charm was gone. His eyes were dark and cold with rage. “Now, that—that was a mistake, Daryl.”

“Nah. You made the mistake,” Daryl growled. “And ya will pay for it.”

[bestofbucky]

The Reason (2/2)

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Angst, panic attack, FLUFF!

Summary: Part 2 to The Signal.

A/N: I hope you all like it! Also feel free to submit requests, prompts, anything you want in my asks. (That kind of rhymed haha)!

Bucky almost wished that Helen hadn’t turned up. Maybe then he could have accepted your fate. You could have drifted off peacefully, instead of surrounded by all this chaos. 

The whole two hours on the quinjet he didn’t move, didn’t speak, just kept his eyes on the floor in front of him while doctors and nurses fought to keep you alive just three feet away. He blocked out their words, not wanting to hear what was happening, what was going wrong.

When they landed, you were wheeled away leaving Bucky and the other Avengers to sit in the waiting room. It wasn’t your average uncomfortable seats, too clean, sickly green walls, hospital waiting room. This was a SHIELD base so, due to the fact that agents would frequently be getting fatally injured, the waiting rooms had been given a makeover. Instead of having one big room there were lots of smaller ones, giving loved ones the privacy they needed. 

Looking around, Bucky could see how the room could be soothing for someone. There were a plethora comfortable places to sit or lie down and a stash of blankets and pillows in the far corner. He spotted a diffuser, and smelt the lavender fragrance it was emitting into the room.

The Avengers all spread out, none of them brave enough to talk. The only sounds filling the room were occasional sniffles, instrumental music flowing from the speakers and the low hiss of the diffuser.

Bucky couldn’t sit still, the repetitive music intended to calm the listener was doing the opposite. He could smell the lavender and all it was doing was reminding him of the baths you two would take together after grueling missions. His foot starts bouncing up and down as the music becomes the only thing he can hear and the smell attacks his nostrils.

He tries to focus on something else. Anything else, but his mind just keeps drifting back to you. The smell of your hair, the taste of your lips, the soothing touch of your hands. He wants to make it stop. He can’t make it stop. It’s too much.

He stands up abruptly, shocking a few people near him and stomps out the room. He finds himself laser focused on the wall ahead of him as if it’s the reason this is happening to you. He lands a hard punch. It’s the wall’s fault you got hurt. It’s the wall’s fault because it didn’t protect you. It’s the wall’s fault because it has done so many horrible things in the past and this is just the universe paying the wall back for all of it. The wall doesn’t deserve to be happy, he lands another punch to prove his point.

Exhaustion causes Bucky to collapse to the ground, his chest heaving as he holds his head in his hands and rests his elbows on his knees. His head is spinning and he tries to focus on his breathing to calm himself down. The only noise he can hear is the wheezing of his breath as he sucks in air at an erratic pace. 

Suddenly Steve is in front of him. He places his hands on the sides of Bucky’s face forcing him to look at him. Steve’s hands quickly become wet with tears but he doesn’t care. He only cares about calming his closest friend down. He speaks reassuring words and eventually Bucky manages to get his breathing under control and the world comes back into focus.

Bucky looks up into Steve’s eyes, which are red and puffy. He doesn’t even want to think about what his own look like. Steve pulls him into a hug and they stay holding each other as Bucky sobs into his chest. They eventually pull apart and Steve moves to sit next to Bucky, both leaning against the wall. They stay in silence, Steve knows that if Bucky wanted to say something he would. 

They sit there together until they spot Helen Cho heading into the waiting room. Gathering up the courage Bucky stands up, wiping at his face to get rid of any tears still left over. He glances at the wall, the two huge dents staring right back at him like a pair of eyes, but before his mind can tumble down the slope of self deprecating thoughts, Steve places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and guides him to the waiting room.

Stepping into the room, Bucky's eyes quickly fall to Helen. He notices her unkempt hair, the slouch in her shoulders and the slight drag of her feet as she walks to the edge of the room. He starts to wonder if Helen is feeling grief because you didn’t make it or exhaustion from the hours of extreme care you have been under.

Helen knows that there are assassins in the room, trained to pick up on micro-expressions and body language so she decides to get right to the point. “She is alive and stable.” 

Collective sighs are heard around the room. Tears fall from Wanda’s eyes just from the sheer relief that you are ok.

“She lost a lot of blood and was bleeding internally. We had to take the shrapnel out, treat the internal bleeding and then close the wound. Due to the size of the wound we inserted a drain to prevent infection. It will be kept in for a minimum of two days depending on how well it heals. We need to keep her here to monitor her recovery.” Helen explains to the room. “You can go and see her whenever you’re ready but she’s still under from the anesthesia.” 

After giving the directions to the room you’re in she excuses herself. Most likely heading somewhere to rest, understandably so.

The Avengers all make their way out of the room, Tony being the last out and mumbling something to Steve. He nods and turns to Bucky.

“We’re all going to make our way up to check on her, you can come with us or you can go take a shower and change so you can stay with her until she wakes up. Completely up to you.” Steve explains.

“I’ll go clean up, just please don’t leave her alone. I’ll be really quick.” There is still fear in Bucky’s eyes so Steve reassures him they will all stay with her until he gets there. 

Bucky makes his way to the quinjet to grab a change of clothes and then heads to a private room. He showers as quick as he can, he just wants to see you, to hold you in his arms and be near you. He rushes to your room but hesitates when he reaches the door.

He is like a deer in headlights, he wants so badly to go inside and see that you are ok but something is stopping him. Something he can’t quite put his finger on. Suddenly the door is opening, he quickly retreats.

“Bucky?” It’s Tony, he walks out and closes the door behind him. Bucky just stares, trying not to let the tears that are gathering in his eyes fall down onto his cheeks. Tony takes a few steps closer.

“How is she?” Bucky hesitantly asks.

“She is alive.” Tony sighs, he can’t lie to Bucky. “It isn’t going to be easy, when you walk in there. She doesn’t look like herself and it might be shocking, but she needs you. She needs you to be there at her side when she wakes up. Can you do that for her?” Tony places his hand on Bucky’s shoulder and eventually Bucky nods.

Tony guides him to the door but takes a few steps back when they get there. It needs to be Bucky’s decision to go in, he can’t be forced in. He places his hand on the handle and slowly pushes the door open.

Walking into the room his eyes scan over your body. Tony was right, you don’t look like yourself. He panics a little because you don’t really appear to be alive, your body is so still, but he settles when he sees you are hooked up to a heart monitor and it is steadily beeping. He has never seen you so vulnerable and weak and it breaks his heart. He is brought out of his trance by the sound of the door closing, indicating all the Avengers had left the room. It was now just the two of you and all the machines and tubes you were connected to. 

He walks over and takes a seat by your head afraid at first to go near you, but every so often he shuffles the chair closer and closer until he is right next to the bed. His hand inches towards yours, retracting when he feels how cold your hand is but eventually he holds it with both of his hands, bringing it gently up to his lips. 

He stays holding your hand but tiredness hits him like a truck. It wasn’t just the kind of tiredness you felt in your eyes, no he felt it everywhere, his bones, his muscles but also his mind. He felt like his brain had been working overtime, processing everything that had happened, he wanted nothing more than to just let himself slip into a deep sleep.

He rests his head on the edge of the bed, telling himself he is only resting his eyes, he wanted to be awake when you woke up but he couldn’t stop sleep from taking over. Stealing his consciousness from him like a petty thief. 

You could feel your senses start to come back online. Your ears filled with the sound of consistent beeping, it was annoying but also slightly relaxing, the speed and pitch of each beep gradually hypnotising you. You shift your focus, you hear a low grumbling sound. It only lasts a few seconds and then it goes quiet. Then you hear it again, and again. Snoring.

You blink your eyes open and you’re greeted with a plain white ceiling, not very interesting at all. You continue to hear the grumbling sound so you decide to sit yourself up a bit to find the source. That was not a good idea, the movement sent shooting pains from your side up and down your body and you hiss at the pain. The grumbling stops with a weird grunt and you feel movement by the side of the bed.

“Doll? Are you awake?” The brown haired man comes into your view, his sleepy face showing the happiness he holds to see you are awake. 

You go to speak but your voice is scratchy and just comes out as an undecipherable croak. You start to get distressed that you can’t speak. 

“You’re ok doll. I’m here. You’re safe.” Bucky soothes you, stroking his hand over your hair.

Once you have calmed down Bucky presses the button for assistance and goes to fill up a plastic cup of water. 

You take the cup from him, deliberately brushing his hand with yours. You hold on to one of his hands and slowly bring it to your lips. His entire body relaxes and he smiles down at you.

You point to the back of your head and then to the cup of water and he seems to understand. He places his hand at the back of your head helping you lift your head, supporting all your weight with his hand so you don’t have to strain your neck. You raise the cup up to your lips and take small sips, the water instantly refreshing your dry mouth and throat.

The nurses come in and do all the checks they need to, everything is looking as good as it should. Once they have all left you look back to Bucky who has taken his place back in the chair by the side of your bed. You reach your hand out and he takes it, holding it as if it was the rarest jewel on earth. 

“Thank you.” You manage to croak out. Bucky opens his mouth to argue but quickly closes it when he sees the look on your face.

“You’re welcome doll.” He smiles back at you. “You should get some rest.” His smile is replaced by a caring frown which makes you chuckle slightly.

“Sleep with me?” You give him your best puppy eyes which only makes the creases in his forehead more prominent.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” He admits sheepishly.

“They put me in a double bed for a reason.” It still hurts to talk so you hope that he isn’t going to need anymore convincing. You smile when he gets up and helps you shift to one side of the bed. He very carefully slides in next to you, his arms gently wrap around you as he tries to avoid everything that is attached to you and be as far away as possible from your wound.

You can feel his body is still tense so you squeeze his hand and gently rub circles on the back. Letting out a sigh of contentment you close your eyes, allowing sleep to sweep you away. 

Bucky was not so lucky, he loved having you in his arms but he was terrified to move in case he hurt you in any way. He just listened to the sound of your slow breathing which eventually lulled him into sleep.

You were both woken up by the nurses entering the room, saying they had to do their regular checks. Bucky slipped out from the bed to give them room, heading to the bathroom to give you some privacy. 

He stared into the mirror, the events that have taken place clear in the sag of his skin and the puffiness of his eyes. Sighing, he splashed some cold water on his face before drying off and heading out of the bathroom. 

The nurses had left and you were sitting up in bed, still to one side leaving room for Bucky. Again, he very carefully took his place next to you, wrapping one arm around your shoulders the other hand resting on your thigh.

He leans over to you and kisses you on the cheek. The words you both want to speak hang heavy in the air above your heads. 

“Bucky I-”  “Doll-”

You both chuckle at the awkwardness. “You go first.” Bucky encourages you with a smile.

“When we were out there, you told me not to say something.” You pause to gather your thoughts but Bucky takes this as an invitation to speak.

“I am so sorry. I never should have taken that away from you, I just didn’t think I could handle it if those words came out of your mouth.” His words fall out of his mouth in a jumbled mess but you understand.

“You knew what I was going to say?” You ask and he nods.

“You told me not to say it. To hold onto it as a reason to fight for survival. You don’t realise it already was my reason to fight. You, James Buchanan Barnes, are my reason to live.” You look up at him, a few tears falling down your cheeks but you notice he is the same.

“I love you Bucky.” 

“I love you doll.” 

His smile is the biggest you have ever seen. His happiness beams out of his body and lights up the room. He reaches a hand up to your cheek to wipe away the tears. Leaning in slowly he presses his lips to yours. In that kiss you feel his emotion, the unspoken words that don’t need to be shared because the kiss is saying everything it needs to. In that kiss you are transported to another world, a heaven but in that kiss you are brought home. 

Pulling away for breath you are both glowing, basking in each other’s love and the comfort in brings. 

“Say it again.” Bucky asks you.

“I love you Bucky.” 

“Again.” You are both laughing now.

“I love you Bucky.” Before he has the chance to ask you again you cup his cheek with one hand, the hand on your good side. You pull him closer to you and press kisses all over his face whispering ‘i love you’s in between each kiss.

Both your chuckles fill the room, replacing the atmosphere of sickness with one of joy and love. In that moment you felt like Bucky’s love could completely heal you. 

That day all the avengers came to see you, bringing flowers and gifts. There were tears shed but they were happy tears. Tears showing how grateful you all are to have your little family, to have endless love and support surrounding you. The only time Bucky left your side was when he had to, but as soon as he could he was right back next to you, kissing everywhere he could reach. 

That night you fall asleep in Bucky's arms knowing this is where you will be for the rest of your life. Your mornings will start with Bucky because he is the reason you smile when you wake up. Your evenings will end with Bucky because it’s his touch that can soothe you off to sleep. You want to be with Bucky forever because he is the reason you live.

Permanent Taglist: @vampirewithbedsidemanners @townwitchbitch @velvetcardiganbucky @courtneychicken

The Signal Taglist: @thefuckupoftoday @wiccanmetallicrose @band--psycho @shamelessfangirl-3

[intheticklecloset]

What You Miss (Dr. Stone)

Summary: Gen decides it's high time Senku got something that he misses from the old world to repay him for all he's done.

A/N: I AM SO EXITED TO SHARE THIS ONE!!! My first Dr. Stone fic!! I love this anime so freaking much and I can't wait to write a whole bunch more for it! For now, please enjoy my full-length fic debut into this fandom! Enjoy!!

Word Count: 2,013

@skribblz for convincing me to give Dr. Stone another try and for all of the amazing fanart she's drawn for me recently!

@giggly-squiggily for the major Dr. Stone writing inspiration! Check out her stories; they're amazing!

~~~

“What is it, Senku?”

The question surprised the scientist, who turned just as Gen came up on his left, watching him with that soft smile and mischievous glint in his eyes. Senku quirked a brow at him. “Nothing. I’m just resting my shoulders. They hurt sometimes when I work for too long.”

“No, I mean…what is it you miss?”

Senku stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

Gen looked out over the water and the village. “You’ve worked so hard to bring back so many things that modern society has lost. You make cola for me, and all those crazy things that don’t seem possible for the villagers. But you never make anything for yourself. Isn’t there anything you miss?”

“Heh.” Senku rolled his left shoulder with a slight groan. “I don’t care one millimeter about material things I’ve lost. My only concern is bringing back what humanity worked so long to create to make a better world.”

“Then what about non-material things?” Gen asked, eyeing him closely, curious. “Your father?”

The words stopped Senku for only a moment before he switched to rolling his right shoulder. “My father is long gone. Nothing to be done about that now.”

“Come on. Surely there’s something you really wish could be brought back from the old world. What is it?”

Gen was persistent, Senku had to give him that much. He paused for a long moment, deciding to consider the question seriously. Finally he sighed and put his hands on his hips. “Honestly, Gen? I miss laughing.”

That certainly wasn’t what the mentalist had expected. “Laughing? But you laugh all the time.”

“No, you know what I mean.” Senku’s eyes softened as he looked out at their view of the village. “I mean watching a video that’s so absurd you can’t help but bust a gut. Watching your classmates make simple chemistry mistakes that literally blow up in their faces. Humor. Real laughter. I don’t get much of that out here.” Senku smirked. “I don’t remember the last time I really laughed at something. I guess that’s what I miss, if I had to choose.”

Before Gen could reply, there was a loud crashing sound from somewhere behind them, causing them both to turn and look just as a cloud of dust rose up in the air behind the observatory.

“Well,” Senku said, turning to walk towards the ruckus, “I’d better go see what that was.”

But Gen stayed put, watching him, already thinking of a way to pay Senku back for everything he’d done for this stone world.

*

Some weeks passed, and Senku forgot all about his conversation with Gen, losing himself in his work as he always did. He didn’t notice the subtle looks he got from the mentalist every now and then, or if he did, he didn’t let on. He simply went on as usual, working and directing and gathering materials for the next project to tackle.

Then, one night – when he was particularly exhausted and ready for bed – Gen pulled him aside.

“Senku,” the mentalist said, “I have something for you.”

“Okay?” Senku yawned. “What is it?”

“It’s a surprise, so I need you to put this on.” Gen held up a strip of cloth that was meant to serve as a blindfold.

Senku hesitated. “The last time I wore one of these, you surprised me with an observatory for my birthday. I hope you haven’t done anything quite that extravagant again.”

Gen put a hand to his chest in mock offense. “Extravagant? Me? I would never.” Then he smirked and held it out. “Just take it. Trust me.”

The scientist waited only another moment or two before taking the offered cloth and tying it over his eyes. “At least I can put it on myself this time.”

“It will make the surprise that much more surprising.” Gen took his arm and started walking. “This way.”

Senku could tell from where they’d begun their path and the trajectory of Gen’s leadership that they were headed to his lab, though for what he couldn’t begin to guess. It didn’t help that he was tired. All he wanted to do was crawl under his covers and pass out for the night. But he didn’t resist as his friend helped him find the table and sit on it.

“Now, keep that blindfold on for just a bit longer, Senku,” Gen instructed. “Positions, everyone.”

So there were others here. Senku could hear the shuffling of a few pairs of feet – probably four or five, probably consisting at least of Chrome and Kohaku. He couldn’t tell who else. Then – without warning – he felt hands grabbing his arms and legs, gently but firmly pulling him down so he was lying on his own lab table, his wrists and ankles pinned to each of the corners.

Suddenly he grew nervous. “Whoa, wait a minute here. What’s…?”

Then he felt another set of fingers sporadically poking up and down his ribs, making him gasp aloud. He tried to curl up, but his other friends (presumably) were holding him too firmly for him to do more than squirm. He gritted his teeth against the traitorous snickers that threatened to bubble up out of him.

“W-What is g-going on here?” he managed, sounding strained even to his own ears. “Guys—”

“You said you missed laughing, Senku,” Gen said sweetly from somewhere above him seconds before he felt a weight settle on his hips, further trapping him. “We’ve all decided this is the best way to go about helping you with that.”

“This w-wasn’t what…I’d had in mihihind.” Senku pressed his lips together, really struggling to hold off his mirth against the light tracing along his sides. He breathed rapidly through his nose as though hyperventilating, limbs shaking.

“Ugh, you are so stubborn.” Gen huffed. “Time for some drastic measures, everyone. You know what to do.”

Suddenly there were fingers everywhere – from his underarms to his stomach to his knees and even his feet – and Senku gave up the fight. What was the point? They already knew.

“Nohohohohoho,” he giggled helplessly, submitting to their hold but squirming all the same. “Guys, come ohohohohon…”

There was a huge smile in Gen’s voice. “There we go! Just took a little coaxing, didn’t it, Senku? Now, to really get you laughing.”

“Thihihihis is chihihihildish,” Senku protested, jerking when Gen squeezed his sides harder. An actual laugh slipped out of him, and the knowing hum his friend gave him in response sent a shiver up his spine. He could feel heat rushing to his cheeks. Was he blushing? Senku didn’t blush. Another squeeze drew another bark of laughter, followed by a warning and pleading, “Gehehehehehen!”

“Just testing~” Gen giggled. To whomever held his arms he said, “Try some spots up there. See how he reacts.”

“W-Whahahahat is this?” Senku sputtered, grinning despite himself. “An expeheheheriment?”

“Of course! A ticklish experiment, to learn where our dear Senku is most sensitive. That way we can make you laugh all the time!”

“Thihihis ihihisn’t what I meheheheant and you knohohohow it.” Senku tried pulling his arms down to protect his armpits, but whoever had him held him tight, not allowing him any leeway.

“I know. You two at the bottom, try some spots. I’m pretty sure I’ve got a good one right here…” He squeezed Senku’s sides again, earning a surprised yelp and even more helpless giggles. “…but we’d better cover all our bases.”

Someone squeezed at one knee and someone scribbled under the other knee; Senku could tell it was two people because of the difference in hand size and roughness.

“Guys, quihihihihihit teheheheasing me,” Senku grumbled as best he could through his snickering.

“Oh? It is rather surprising you haven’t asked us to stop yet,” Gen observed, kneading his thumbs into Senku’s ribs. “Is it because you like this?”

“I alreheheheady said I m-mihihihihiss lahahahauging. And you seheheheheem determined to p-puhuhuhuhull it out of me by fohohohohorce, so why wahahahaste time? I’m tired. Just gehehehehet it over wihihihihihith.”

Gen chuckled. “As you wish, Senku~”

Some silent cue must have been given, because the next thing Senku knew there were hands all over his most sensitive spots, digging harder than before, drilling with purpose, and finally he lost the battle against his own laughter. It burst out of him in a surprised cry, followed by long strings of genuine cackling.

“GAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! WAHAHAHAHAHAIT, NO!!” He squealed, jerking the hardest when his sides became the focus of their ruthless tickling, unable to see any of them to know who exactly was seeing him so helpless like this. Not that he really cared. It was no secret he wasn’t the strongest person among the villagers. Even some of the children were stronger than he was. Still, he doubted any of them had been subjected to this kind of childish play for so long before.

“There you go!” Gen encouraged, and for the first time the scientist could hear some giggling that undoubtedly belonged to Ginro, followed quickly by a shushing Kinro. So now he at least knew who his attackers were. “Doesn’t it feel good to laugh again? You said you missed this, didn’t you?”

“GEN!!” Senku cried, going steadily crazy from how defenseless he was against the purposeful squeezing of his sides. He even snorted once in his hysterics. “GEN, STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“But you like this, don’t you?” Gen teased, messing with him just because he could now. “You didn’t say stop until all of us were tickling you. Can’t take so many people going for your sensitive spots at once?”

Senku had to admit, the laughing was making him feel tons lighter than he’d felt since waking up in this stone world. For once it felt good to not be in control, to actually laugh rather than just smirk or chuckle at something. He’d really, truly missed this simple pleasure.

Still, one more squeeze along his sides broke any further resistance down. He couldn’t take much more of this. “STAHAHAHAHAHAP!! PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE, GEN!! I’VE HAHAHAD ENOHOHOHOUGH!!”

Gen hummed thoughtfully, then released him. “All right. I believe you.” Moments later the other hands released him as well, and Senku went limp on the table, gasping for breath and still giggling lightly, shakily reaching up to pull his blindfold from his eyes.

Thankfully it was after dark, so he wasn’t blinded by the sun upon being able to see again. Still, he could see the beaming smiles of four of his friends, whom he had all guessed correctly: Chrome, Kohaku, Ginro, and Kinro. And of course, Gen at the head of the pack smiling at him as he climbed off and stood nearby with the others.

“All of you,” Senku managed, “are pulling double duty tomorrow for this.”

“What?” Ginro whined. “That’s not fair! It was Gen’s idea—”

Kinro shushed him quickly. “Enough, Ginro. I’m pretty sure he was joking.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Senku groaned as he sat up but couldn’t wipe the smile from his face no matter how hard he tried to. “Don’t think you suddenly have permission to tickle me all the time. This was a one-time deal, got it?”

Chrome grinned. “You got it, Senku.”

“But it was great to hear you really laughing for once,” Kohaku added, smiling and winking at him.

The others agreed before the scientist waved them off, and all of them left beaming and chatting with one another as they retired to bed for the night.

Senku finally got his own smile under control and leveled a stare at Gen, who looked back at him innocently.

“Are you mad at me now?” the mentalist asked breezily, though a hint of nervousness underlined his tone.

Senku watched him for a long moment, then smiled again. “Nah.” He hopped off the table, unsteady on his feet for only a moment before he straightened with the help of both the furniture and his friend. Then he, too, left the lab, calling a soft, “night, Gen,” over his shoulder as he went.

Gen swelled with pride, vowing to make sure Senku never missed laughing again.

[latte-fairytaekwoon]

𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝐹𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐹𝑜𝑟 𝑌𝑜𝑢

Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging, supporting nor trying to romanticize yandere behavior and lifestyle. This is all a work of pure fiction not meant to represent real life scenarios.

Warning: Mentions of stalking, kidnapping, and other toxic yandere behavior.

↬↬𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰↫↫

Spending most of his time in the music room, Hongjoong rarely interacted with people, missed a lot of his other classes. Music was his only passion and love, the only things he ever really knew and cherished.

Recently though, he had been in a little bit of a slump. He could not find inspiration to write anything new. Words would come up, but he could not form any lyrics. Sounds would play in his head, but he couldn't compose a simple melody. It was frustrating and agonizing to him, he was actually about to lose all hope......

And then you came along. He was casually walking, passing through the classrooms, when he heard you, felt your voice penetrate deep in his soul. He had to find out who possessed such seraphic voice, and when he saw you, he was completely enamoured.

And then everything came together. Suddenly he was rushing back to his home, scribbling away and composing what had been on his mind for weeks. He finally found the inspiration he was looking for. He found you, and now that he knew you, he would worship the very ground you walked on. You are his muse.......

And he could never let you get away, or let anyone try to take you away.

↬↬𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪↫↫

Seonghwa was the whole school's heart throb. Every girl was pining for him, doing anything they could to grab his attention. He loved the way they all basked in his glory, how just one wink or smile would make them all swoon and do anything for him.

Not you. For once, someone had actually rejected his advances, never budged to his charms or sweet smiles. Seonghwa was shocked, but not angry. He loved how you presented a little challenge and he was dying to make you crack. But that never happened.

And then he cracked. Desperate to make you his, he ended up spiraling down a web of obsession. He wanted to own you, control you, possess every bit of your mind and body. He would not stop at nothing until he got what he wanted. And he wanted you.

So he started becoming more and more aggressive towards you. Threatening you if you didn't comply to his whims. He hated how you dared to challenge him. So one day, while you were distracted, he took you away and kept you locked away, never to allow you to leave him.

Not until you've learned to submit to him.

↬↬𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸↫↫

When Yunho first saw you, he felt an urging need to make you happy. He saw how alone you were. Being the new student wasn't easy, especially when you had such a dark and mysterious aura around you that made others afraid to get close to you. And you preferred to be alone.

But Yunho was determined to befriend you. He wanted to make you smile, make you happy. He loved spreading happiness and joy to others. Maybe he could rub off some of his sunshine personality on you. Others were scared for him to get close to you, thinking you'd do something bad to him.

In reality, they should be afraid for you. Yunho became incessantly clingy towards you. He was constantly messaging you, calling you, coming over to your house to spend time with you, trying to get close to you. While at first you welcomed his friendship, now it was suffocating. So you tried to put distance between you two, hanging out with other people.

He couldn't handle that. You're his. He saw you first, he reached out to you first. Why are other people trying to take you away from him? He can't handle you slipping from his fingers. He has to get you to stay in any way possible.

Nothing some self harming and guilt tripping can't fix.

↬↬𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰↫↫

You never noticed the pair of eyes that were constantly glued to you. In fact no one ever noticed Yeosang at school. He was a loner. Always dressed in dark clothing, mostly consisting of hoodies in which he'd often hide his face in.

But he was always watching you. In class, he payed attention to you. He learned your locker number and would often look around your stuff. If things went missing, he was bound to have them, adding them to his shrine he kept in his room. He even followed you home when he had the chance, sometimes even stood outside your house, watching your bedroom window until you turned off your light.

He was enraptured by you. He wanted to have you, but had no idea how to get close to you. So he started leaving notes everywhere for you. At first starting off with cute love notes in your locker, but soon it escalated to actually leaving them inside your bedroom, detailing things that soon horrified you. You were scared of whoever was sending you these things.

He's not stopping though. Soon you'll finally know who he is......and he'll be the only one you'll ever need to know in your life.

↬↬𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷↫↫

San was your childhood friend. Since the beginning, you two were inseparable. You were there for each other since you both learned how to read. He was basically like your brother, that's what you often thought about him.

He didn't see things like that though. He was convinced you two were soulmates. You were made for each other. No one knows you better than he does, and no one understands him like you do. He wants you to see him as a lover, not just a friend.

Problem is so many guys are after you and he feels threatened. So he had to do anything possible to keep them away from you, and if they got too close, sabotage your relationship with them at all costs, all while you never find out he's the cause of all your heartbreaks. All you know is that he's always there for you, he's your shoulder to cry on. He cries with you and holds you close as you pour out your feelings to him. He strokes your hair gently, promising to protect you...

All while you never see the sinister smile of accomplishment that forms on his lips when he's succeeded yet again in keeping you for himself.

↬↬𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲↫↫

Mingi was often picked on and teased for being so awkward and for being a nerd. It wasn't unusual for him to get tripped, shoved, or even slammed into lockers on occasion. He was too shy to even say anything and too afraid to stand up for himself. One time, he got shoved so hard, he dropped all his books and his glasses went flying somewhere. Someone was kind enough to give them to him so he could see....

And that's when he saw you. You helped him pick up his materials and made sure he was not hurt. He was surprised you would help him, you were one of the most respected and popular students in school. What on earth would make you even glance at someone like Mingi? But you did, and you kept checking up on him, spending time with him and befriending him, helping him to be less shy and reserved.

For that reason, he began idolizing you. You're his savior, his very own angel sent to him. He can't let his little angel fly away from him. That's why he began changing for you, turning into what he needed to be in order to get you to love him. And if anyone dared to try and steal his angel away, well.......

He'd immediately snap and have no recollection of what happened. All he knows is that his hands are covered in blood and he succeeded in protecting you from anything and anyone he deems evil.

↬↬𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰↫↫

You hated him with a burning passion. For as long as you could remember, Jung Wooyoung was your worst nightmare. What first started off as ordinary school boy teasing and pranks, turned into full scale bullying and torment.

You were always nervous to walk into school, not knowing what he was going to pull on you this time. No matter how hard you tried to avoid him, he was always there, always finding you. He was constantly belittling you, making you feel bad about yourself and sometimes leaving bruises that would last days.

You didn't understand why he was like this. One day, being so stressed and your anxiety going erratic, you couldn't take it anymore and begged him to stop. You wanted him to leave you alone at all costs, interesting option you gave him. But he promised he'd leave you alone from then on......

If you agreed to love him and only him, be good for him and obey him at all times. Only then would he stop. But would he really stop? Or will it only get worse until you break and become nothing but a lifeless doll for him?

↬↬𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸↫↫

His first encounter with you was the biggest turning point in his life. He watched as you slipped on your way down the stairs during a passing period. You would have seriously gotten hurt if he didn't catch you in his strong arms. He just stared at you, admiring your features as you thanked him. He let you go then and he felt empty, but he vowed to never let you go again.

You never knew this but he became your protector. He thought you were too pure and precious to survive in this world alone. There were too many dangers and bad people who would try to hurt you, use you, or even worse, keep you two far away from each other. He could never let that happen. So protecting you often involved getting physical and keeping unnecessary people from entering your life. And then soon he realized he also needed to take people out of your life.

That's how you woke up one day in a strange house. He was there waiting for you to wake up, not at all bothered by your screaming and panic. Soon you'll learn it's all for your own good, that he only has good intentions and he's just keeping you safe....

And keeping you all to himself.

Gifs not mine, credit goes to their respective owners.

[gendercensus]

On plural inclusivity and "plural they"

In the Gender Census feedback box and elsewhere I have frequently been asked:

to make the annual Gender Census survey more inclusive of plural participants, and

to add "plural they" to the checkbox pronouns list alongside "singular they" in order to be inclusive of plural participants.

It's a rambling topic, so I'll address them in sections in that order.

~

INCLUSIVITY RE: PLURAL PARTICIPANTS

I've been inviting plural people to take part in a short survey about the Gender Census, asking questions that help me get a feel for the issues involved and asking about whether people feel included in the survey (and why or why not). At the time of writing there have been 139 responses, I will leave it open for ongoing feedback, and I'm unlikely to be publishing the spreadsheet of results in full because the responses are off-topic and very personal. However, I will refer to some individual responses as well as my personal experience discussing inclusion with plural systems.

Here's a graph based on the responses so far:

I'm asking for direct feedback about this issue because over the past few years plural folks have been one of the more consistently vocal groups in the feedback box of the survey and elsewhere, which would usually be fine, but I've been finding it very overwhelming and confusing. I think that's because the advice/demands/questions have been unusually inconsistent, often to the point of being in direct opposition to each other, and the result is that I have no idea what to do.

Before now, most plural people have understood that it's quite a nuanced issue. When asked I would explain that if they felt that filling it in once for the whole system made more sense they should do that, and if individual system members felt strongly that they should participate alone then they could do so.

This year it got to the point where I had to make a decision and write unambiguous, easy-to-follow guidance about how plural people should fill in the survey, because I had one system submitting dozens of responses and giving the exact same three points of feedback, paraphrased, over and over - making it look like many unconnected people felt strongly about these particular issues, when in reality it was all this one system. I decided that, to be as fair as possible, plural people should fill in the survey once per body.

When I posted about the "once per body" policy on social media I received very little direct feedback, which leaves me in the position of not knowing whether that's because I did it right and you have no complaints or because you've all jumped ship! The statistics and comments from the plural feedback survey are very helpful in this regard:

It seems that plural participants, on the whole, are fairly understanding about it all, often supportive, and are still able to participate. ("Unknown" and "no strong feelings" together are a much higher proportion than I expected.) Some positive feedback included appreciation for the ability to select as many gender identities and pronouns as one wants. Common arguments against the policy include feeling that system members are not treated as people in their own right, which is understandable; the Gender Census is designed to present practicable data about nonbinary people for use within a system that assigns one identity per body, socially and bureaucratically. A "once per body" policy makes sense when prioritising nonbinary people, but adds to the list of crap that only plural people have to struggle through when they're not the main focus of the research.

I was surprised that only a couple of people pointed out that some systems have amnesia between members, and so some systems may participate more than once per body unintentionally. (I understand that this is unavoidable, and I certainly wouldn't be upset about it. Sometimes non-plural people participate more than once by accident, too! On the scale we're talking about, I'm unlikely to even notice it happening.)

Back when I first started to get requests to make the Gender Census more plural-inclusive, my first move was to ask people what exactly they felt excluded by. Responses to this have been continuously nebulous, to the extent that I don't think I have ever made any design changes to the annual survey at all as a result. I also asked what they would do to improve the survey and help them to feel included, but this has yielded very few viable ideas for how to move forward, just because so many of the ideas that people suggest are mutually exclusive.

As an example, I spoke to one member of a system who expressed, understandably, that their experience of themselves as plural inextricably affected their experience of their gender(s), and after some discussion they concluded that the two were so intertwined that it made the most sense for it to be included in the identity question, e.g. a checkbox called "plural" alongside nonbinary, genderqueer, trans, etc. I explained that I don't arbitrarily add things to the checkbox list, but it would be counted if it was typed into a textbox underneath, and if it went over 1% I would consider adding it to the checkbox list. They became increasingly angry. The only way this situation would make sense for them moving forward was if I added "plural" as an identity checkbox option immediately. Conversely, just a couple of weeks previously I had spoken with a member of a system who was very vocally distressed at the idea of plurality being conflated with gender, and wanted to make sure that I never added "plural" as an identity checkbox option.

As another example, in the plural feedback survey when I asked people how they felt about the "once per body" policy, a member of one system was against it and said "it feels like this policy doesn’t recognize us as separate people", but a member of another system was in favour and said "we're encouraged by our therapist to think of ourselves as dissociated parts of a whole. So we're all one person, just not directly connected like a singlet [non-plural person] would be. From that perspective, it makes sense to keep us as one person in the gender census, no matter how many genders we have." It's not possible to reconcile these two perspectives.

From the very beginning up until now, the unifying theme for feedback from plural people and their allies is "please be more inclusive of plural people." That's a really good start! After that it becomes a plate of tangled spaghetti.

Here are some themes I've managed to tease out, and my thoughts.

"Each system's alter should be able to participate in the survey individually if they want to." Some systems have literally hundreds of alters, and several systems have acknowledged in the feedback survey that this is probably both impractical for many plural people and unfair on singlets.

"We're okay with taking part once for all of us in the system, but we're just checking all the boxes that apply to at least one of us, and some of those are explicitly disliked by at least one of us. This is uncomfortable." I think that's... probably okay, actually. Other subcategories of participants whose identities fluctuate that strongly (e.g. a genderfluid person who is sometimes very male and sometimes extremely not male) or whose pronouns are context-dependent are also in this predicament. Participants often express a desire to rank their identity terms by importance, accuracy, fluctuation or frequency. The survey aims to collect broad and fuzzy data about a very large group of people, to monitor trends and let people know what language we're comfortable with on the whole. This survey just isn't looking for that kind of nuance.

"We're okay with taking part in the survey once for everyone in the system, but there should be a way to separate out responses about different alters within that one response." It's literally impossible to program the survey to have infinite subsections for each alter, but if it were possible, what would I do with the data? I think the most likely approach would be combining into a list of identities etc. "per body". The participant would feel better for being able to enter different words for different alters, but it would be more work for them, and it would be more work for me to process responses from plural people just to have them be counted like those from non-plural people.

"There should be a 'plural' checkbox in the identity list so that we can express that our gender is influenced by our plurality." I consider adding terms to the identity checkbox list when they're typed into the textboxes by over 1% of participants. There are some situations where I'll make an exception to that rule, but it's unusual and this isn't one of them. Whether you enter a term using a checkbox or a textbox makes no difference to how well-represented you are in the results.

Maybe just a question that asks if you're plural, with a checkbox? What would this checkbox do? Plurality is beyond the scope of the survey, along with things like height and eye colour. It would allow curious people to analyse the responses using plurality as a variable, but I wouldn't include it in any analysis in an annual Gender Census report.

That last one is particularly interesting, because it's what I actually did in the supplementary survey. I wasn't 100% sure in advance whether or not I would need that information for the singular vs. plural they issue, so I included an "I am/we are plural" checkbox just to be on the safe side. As far as I could tell, the survey was no more or less materially inclusive than the annual Gender Census survey. There were a couple of interesting patterns to report in the statistics, but the main things I noticed were:

Feedback saying that the survey wasn't inclusive of plural people was non-existent.

Several people thanked me in the feedback box for making the survey plural-inclusive.

Several people promoted the survey on social media by using its plural-inclusivity as a selling point.

Again, the supplementary survey didn't take a different approach. There was no particular difference in language, there was no indication that whether or not you're plural would be integral to the reporting of the results or even used at all, the only difference was the existence of a checkbox that let participants declare their plurality.

That's all it took to cause a complete U-turn in feedback. A checkbox that doesn't relate to gender or connect to any of the other questions in any way, and isn't particularly statistically useful based on the supplementary survey. It doesn't make the survey more inclusive, it just acknowledges that some participants are plural, and gives them a way to declare it.

Whether or not participants are plural is beyond the scope of the Gender Census, which aims to collect broad data about how we as nonbinary and otherwise genderly-interesting people want the world to see and describe us. It just doesn't make sense to include questions about plurality in future surveys. But I'm honestly amazed and a little confused, because until the "once per body" policy was added it seems that there wasn't actually anything about the Gender Census that prevented plural people from participating, at least not more than anyone else whose genders change significantly over time.

~

SHOULD "PLURAL THEY" BE ADDED TO THE CHECKBOX PRONOUN LIST?

This is something that participants often ask me to do in order to make the survey more plural-inclusive, so I decided to seriously consider it.

The first draft of the supplementary survey asked over 1,000 participants about this issue, but I had to scrap those responses and then redesign and restart it because, even though dictionaries are fairly clear on what exactly "singular they" is, a lot of survey participants who are not dictionaries seemed to be in disagreement (or confusion) about what singular they and plural they actually are. I have been unable to find any academic or reference articles online using the phrase "plural they" at all.

Here are some of the things people have told me recently:

"Singular they" is when you use "they" with singular verbs, e.g. they is a teacher.

I can't say that I use "singular they" pronouns because I always say "they are". "They is" just sounds wrong to me.

"Plural they" is when you use "singular they" pronouns to refer to a system/someone who is plural.

"Singular they" and "plural they" are grammatically identical except for the name.

"Singular they" and "plural they" are functionally the same and should be combined into one option called "they" in the annual survey.

Let's start by stating what we do know for sure.

~

THEY VS. SINGULAR THEY

For the record, "singular they" is defined by its purpose and context, not the specific words used.

Wiktionary says:

they (third-person, nominative case, usually plural, sometimes singular, objective case them, possessive their, possessive noun theirs, reflexive themselves, or, singular, themself)

It then goes on to specify three use-cases:

third-person plural, referring to two or more people

third-person singular, referring to one person

"indefinite pronoun" - people; some people; people in general; someone, excluding the speaker. E.g. "they didn’t have computers in the old days."

So we've got "they" (groups), "singular they" (individuals), and "indefinite they" (an "other" that is ambiguous in number).

Again, I have never found anything academic or, er, dictionarical (lexicographical?) that calls any of the forms "plural they", so my first job is to find out whether what Gender Census participants are calling "plural they" is the same as what the dictionary just calls "they", which is defined as the set used to refer to two or more people. For the purposes of this article I will call it regular "they".

~

WHICH WORDS MAKE UP SINGULAR THEY?

Even though most dictionaries will state which words make up singular they, and it's usually they/them/their/theirs/themself, if you change individual words within the set or even around the set it is still called "singular they" if it is used to refer to only one person. This might happen due to regional or cultural variations. So whether you say "they is a writer" or "they are a writer", whether you say "themself" or "themselves", if you're talking about only one person, it's still singular they.

In the annual survey, singular they is consistently chosen in the checkbox pronoun options by the most participants, usually more than twice as popular as the next most popular option. (I use the dictionary-provided set, and I've checked it's still the most commonly used in several polls and surveys along the way.) In the annual survey, singular they is presented as:

singular they - they/them/their/theirs/themself (e.g. "they are a writer")

~

WHICH WORDS MAKE UP PLURAL THEY?

I had never heard of "plural they" before people started asking me to add it to the checkbox list in the feedback box of the annual Gender Census survey, but it seemed clear from the name that it is meant to be contrasted with singular they, and I wondered if perhaps everyone else had been calling regular "they" (for referring to two or more people) "plural they" this entire time and I just hadn't noticed.

It was specifically presented to me by participants as a pronoun that a plural system could claim, and that a plural system might prefer over singular they. This tallied with my initial assumption that "plural they" may just be regular "they" referring to groups, since a system is a body containing two or more distinct individuals, so if they wanted to be referred to as a group then singular they would be inappropriate and regular "they" would fit.

I went to the pronouns spreadsheet of the 2021 Gender Census, and took every pronoun set that was named and copied it into a new spreadsheet. I ran a query to list all sets that contained both the words "plural" and "they" in the name field. There were 71 results, out of ~44,500 total responses. I ran another query to find out what these people were entering in the reflexive field, and here's what I got:

themselves - 61 (85.9%)

theirselves - 3

them - 2

themself - 2

themself (plural) - 2

theirself - 1

So I think it's safe to say that the set that people are calling "plural they" uses "themselves" as the reflexive, which is consistent with dictionaries' reporting of regular "they".

I conclude that most people do mean regular "they" when they refer to "plural they". "Plural they" seems to be they/them when used to refer to two or more people, including the plural reflexive "themselves".

As in "singular they", if you change individual words within the set or even around the set it is still called regular "they" if it is used to refer to two or more people. This might happen due to regional or cultural variations. So whether you say "they is writers" or "they are writers", whether you say "themself" or "themselves", if you're talking about two or more people, it's still regular "they" (or plural they).

~

IS PLURAL THEY GETTING SMUSHED INTO ANOTHER PRONOUN/GROUP?

I recently explored the (apparently unintentional) overlap of Spivak (e/em) and Elverson (ey/em). In case you've not read it, here's a brief overview: I found that it might be that Elverson (not on the checkbox list) is many times more popular than Spivak (on the checkbox list), even though it isn't being written into the pronouns textboxes often enough for it to reach the 1% threshold. Since the two sets are identical except for that one letter in the subject form, it is very likely that many of the people who use Elverson (ey/em) pronouns are choosing the Spivak checkbox option in the annual survey because they don't realise the spelling is different, or they think that they are minor spelling variants of the same set. I concluded that in order to get a fair count of both sets I will need to list both in the checkbox options next year, even though Elverson hasn't been typed in by over 1% of participants yet.

It's possible that the same thing is happening with singular and plural they. I ran a couple of Twitter polls, asking people whose pronouns are they/them which set they prefer, and presented answers like this:

a) Singular they, referring to only 1 person: they are themSELF

b) Singular they, referring to only 1 person: they are themSELVES

c) Plural they, referring to 2+ people: they are themSELVES

Here's the results, with 927 usable responses:

The results of this poll are really useful, because it allowed people to choose between singular and plural they AND themself and themselves, in combination. We can see that of the people who call their pronouns "singular they" (referring to only one person), the majority prefer "themself" as the reflexive, but a respectable proportion prefer singular they with "themselves", even when presented with the option of "plural they" (referring to two or more people).

(I have a policy of providing the most popular word choices in checkboxes, so I will continue to provide a they/them checkbox option that says "singular they - they/them/their/theirs/themself", but since singular they is consistently the most popular pronoun this is something I like to keep checking in on.)

If we apply these proportions to the 2021 Gender Census responses and imagine that everyone whose pronouns are they/them chose "singular they - they/them/their/theirs/themself" regardless of how accurate that is, this would mean that 3.7% of all respondents would check a "plural they" box, which is well above the 1% threshold for adding something to the checkbox list. Why not add it to the list, the way I'll also be adding Elverson to the list? This graph may help:

I generally consider it unwise to make big decisions based on Twitter polls, because the sample is much smaller and more biased than a standalone survey. Twitter requires membership, Twitter membership is skewed younger, and younger members are more likely to use Twitter often and see polls when they appear.

However, even I can't deny that there is a very clear mandate here for Elverson to be added to the checkbox list. When given a straight choice between the Spivak, Elverson, both, and neither/something else, participants were over six times more likely to choose Elverson over Spivak. (For context, Spivak got 4.3% in the 2021 Gender Census as a checkbox option.) Even if this poll were somehow put to the entire Gender Census participant group, it's hard to imagine a scenario where the results shift enough that Elverson gets a lower percentage than Spivak.

4.7% of a smaller sample of younger Twitter members just isn't enough to push me to add something to the checkbox options. I really hope that everyone whose pronouns are "plural they" takes the time to type it into next year's survey as a pronoun distinct from "singular they", so that if they do end up being over 1% of participants I can add "plural they" to the checkbox options.

~

IN CONCLUSION

As far as I can tell, the Gender Census doesn't particularly exclude plural participants. Systems are still able to take part, so it is at least as inclusive as any other survey of a similar nature, maybe even more so thanks to the ability to choose multiple gender identities and pronouns "per body".

There isn't sufficient evidence to support adding "plural they" to the list of checkbox pronouns at this time, and systems can be represented in results by typing any plural-inclusive terms and pronouns that are not on checkbox lists into some of the many textboxes provided, as any other participant would be expected to do.

The "once per body" participation policy is uncomfortable for a significant number of plural people. However, due to the intensely varied experiences of plural people, any policy on that issue that I impose would make some plural people uncomfortable - and it turns out that I chose the "side" that plural people are more likely to agree with. The survey isn't intending to collect or convey the more nuanced information that plural people (and others) have said that they would like to provide.

A separate question that specifically asks participants whether they're plural makes systems feel seen and acknowledged, but is beyond the scope of the project and doesn't add value to the data or analysis.

So, I will not be making any changes to the Gender Census at this time, based on the information I've gathered so far. However, I welcome further feedback in the plural participants' feedback form, which will remain open, anonymous and private.

~

Edit: Follow-up.

[a-tiny-atiny]

I Get Deja Vu

Have you ever felt yourself falling in love? In a way, have you felt it physically manifest itself? Has your world ever felt like it’s suddenly gotten brighter and you wake up every morning excited to see that one special person in your life who made you feel that way?

Because Mingi has. In fact, he feels it stronger and stronger every day. All because of one person: Jung Wooyoung.

Mingi is a loser.

Okay, he can practically hear his friends screaming at him for even thinking that, but it’s how he truly feels. He used to have higher self-esteem when he was a kid, but it’s long gone now. He used to feel pretty neutrally about himself (maybe even a little confident), but that all changed when a classmate of his came up to him at the playground when he was nine and pointed out his small eyes and crooked teeth, and everyone else laughed.

He never thought about those parts of his face before. He really never looked at himself for more than a few minutes in the mirror while conducting his daily routine before school and before bed, but it made him wonder if he should have spent that time looking at himself more carefully.

When he thought about it, his eyes were smaller than the other kids’. He didn’t think it was a bad thing before, everyone in his family has smaller eyes, but since his classmate pointed it out and everyone laughed, it must be a bad thing. Same with his teeth.

He still looks in the mirror every morning and inspects his small eyes and crooked teeth as though staring at them for long enough will cause them to “fix” themselves into something more conventionally attractive. He doubts the classmate on the playground even remembers saying that (or remembers Mingi at all), but Mingi definitely does. It hasn’t left his mind since the day it occurred.

His best friends at the time, Yunho and Wooyoung were there to reassure him that there was nothing wrong with his appearance. “Some kids say I have weird cheeks,” he remembers a seven-year-old Yunho saying, “but my mom thinks they’re cute so I don’t really care.” Wooyoung offered a somewhat different but still comforting sentiment about the kid being a “butt-face” and a “stupid idiot,” which admittedly helped cheer Mingi up a lot.

Middle school was when a lot changed for Mingi.

On his very first day of middle school, he awoke to find his skin red and blotchy, the first sign of his to-be consistent acne problem. He was covering his face when he walked into the building, so Yunho and Wooyoung didn’t even see him at first. When they finally did, they scolded him for being dramatic and promised that no one would care if his face was a little blotchy that day.

Wooyoung seemed to have been blessed with perfect skin, because he never had a single breakout throughout middle school. Maybe he’d get a pimple here and there that he would cover with some of his mom’s foundation, but that was it. Yunho had a bit of acne too, but his parents could afford the expensive creams that made it go away instantly while Mingi’s family didn’t have the time or the money for that.

Throughout his experience in middle school, Mingi noticed three key differences in his life there than in elementary school: 1) Unlike in elementary school, it did matter what you wore.

The fact that he only had a few good shirts that were usually either a size too big or a size too small and only a few pairs of baggy jeans didn’t matter in elementary school. He could wear the same shirt and pants every day and the kids probably wouldn’t notice. In middle school, they definitely did notice.

In only his second week there, someone in his class asked why he was wearing the same shirt he wore just last week, which caught him by surprise. Was that a bad thing? He owns a laundry machine, it’s not like he’s wearing a mud-covered, dirty t-shirt or something. But his choice (or lacks thereof) in clothing brought several confused and sometimes even disgusted looks from his classmates.

This leads us to point 2) Being funny wasn’t enough to be well-liked. Admittedly, Mingi thought of his humor as basically his only talent. He’s just a pretty loud and outgoing person, so that earned him a lot of friends back in elementary school. In middle school, he was labeled the “class clown” and was viewed as a troublemaker by most of the kids, which made people want to stay away from him.

Even to this day, Mingi has a hard time being open with his thoughts and feelings because he’s worried he’ll come off as obnoxious and rude, even when he isn’t trying to be.

And finally point 3) Middle school is a lot bigger than elementary school. Normally, this wouldn’t really matter. Mingi was actually really excited at first when he heard the middle school had multiple floors that he could race to be the first one to climb. The only problem is that with a bigger school, there are more classes, and more classes mean less of a chance of him being with his friends (i.e. only Yunho and Wooyoung).

He ended up having most of his classes with Yunho but hardly any with Wooyoung except for when they could sit together at lunch.

Because of this, Mingi and Wooyoung started to drift apart a bit. Wooyoung even made a new friend named Yeosang, who Mingi genuinely liked but was afraid would replace him as Wooyoung’s best friend. Thankfully, this is not what ended up happening and all that occurred was Yeosang being added into the friend group with open arms by all parties.

It was then that Mingi started noticing something…strange.

He would get a tiny pang in his chest when Wooyoung was overly-friendly with any of the members of the friend group. This feeling didn’t occur with Yunho or Yeosang, only Wooyoung. At first, Mingi thought it was probably the feeling of missing Wooyoung because they didn’t have many classes together that year.

Mingi didn’t know what to do with this feeling. He just let it be at first because it wasn’t really bothering him that much, it was just strange. But as the years went on, it got stronger and stronger until Mingi couldn’t ignore it anymore.

In addition to this weird pang in his chest, he also started to feel a weird feeling in his stomach, kind of like when you’re at the top of a roller coaster and it’s just about to drop. That’s the kind of feeling he started to get when Wooyoung started to get, well…hot.

In high school, all four boys started to grow into their features more, but it was most evident in Wooyoung. Yeosang looked quite handsome too, but that wasn’t much of a change from middle school because he always kind of looked like a Greek god in Mingi’s eyes. Wooyoung, however, he was friends with since childhood and never really registered his features as anything other than “Wooyoung” until now. Now, they were registering as “hot.”

And that’s when Mingi started to get a feeling that something was…off. He wasn’t sure what and he wasn’t sure why, but he had never really been good with feelings to begin with so it made sense to him that it didn’t really make sense. Does that make sense?

“No,” Yunho said when Mingi tried explaining this predicament to him. “You’re going to have to give me more to work with, Mingi-yah. Maybe you miss him because you haven’t been spending as much time with him? You can text him and ask him to hang out.”

The very thought gave Mingi that weird feeling in his stomach again. He groaned and said, “Whatever, it probably isn’t a big deal anyway.” So, Yunho let it slide and so did Mingi for a while. Even if he got that weird feeling in his stomach, he just tried to ignore it.

He ignored it all the way until it became time to submit college applications.

That led Mingi to let another roadblock in the path of being a loser: he wasn’t really that good at anything in particular. His grades were fine, admittedly a bit below average, but not terrible. But they certainly weren’t enough to get into any university that Yunho, Wooyoung, and Yeosang were planning on going to, which was his main concern.

The only good part of Mingi’s life was his friends. His life basically revolved around them, and it still does, so not being able to go to the same college as them was a terrifying thought. Which is why Mingi started studying harder than ever.

“Whatcha doing?” Wooyoung asked one day after noticing Mingi in the library after school. This was very unlike him because anyone who knows Mingi knows that he hated school and always wanted to get out of there as quickly as possible.

Mingi jumped, seemingly not having noticed Wooyoung there before. “Oh! Um, just studying. You know, college stuff,” he explained clumsily. Why did he feel so nervous? It’s just Wooyoung, the same Wooyoung he’s known for his entire life.

“Studying? Since when did you study?” Wooyoung asked teasingly. Some people found that cheeky attitude of Wooyoung’s to be off-putting, but Mingi loved it because it fit right in with his sense of humor. That was part of the reason why they were such good friends.

“Since I needed to get into the same college you guys are going to,” Mingi said, the stress evident in his voice. This was obviously really weighing on him. “You know I can’t get into Sejong with my grades.”

Wooyoung frowned. It was true that Mingi’s grades were…on the weaker side, but he hadn’t ever considered the possibility of him not being able to get into Sejong with everyone. Going to college without Mingi was almost unthinkable. They had been together forever and Wooyoung wanted to keep it that way.

“I’ll tell you what,” Wooyoung said, taking a seat next to his friend. Mingi looked up at him with nervous eyes. To be fair, most of Wooyoung’s propositions were either very dangerous or very stupid or both. “I’ll help you study until the deadline for the application.”

Mingi’s eyes widened in shock and he was about to immediately refuse, but Wooyoung cut him off with an even more outlandish assertion: “And my parents and Yunho’s family are going to pay for your tuition.”

Now Mingi felt like sobbing, for so many reasons. Wooyoung actually wanted to help him and was willing to take time out of his incredibly busy schedule just to ensure that he had a fighting chance of going to the same university as his friends? Not to mention the fact that their families were willing to pay for his tuition? He actually felt somewhat lightheaded at the thought.

It’s true that Mingi’s parents had been relying on him getting a scholarship to be able to pay for his college education, but the chances of that occurring were seeming slimmer and slimmer when Minho’s grades failed to improve past a low B.

There were so many things he wanted to say to Wooyoung. Things like, “Are you crazy?” and, “There’s no way I can let you do that.” Maybe even, “Thank you.” But what he ended up saying instead was,

“You can’t do that.”

Instead of getting offended or even rescinding his offer (which Mingi both anticipated and feared), Wooyoung simply laughed. “Actually, I can,” he said, “and so can Yunho. You’re basically family to us and you know how much our parents like you. We’ve been saving up for this for a long time now and we were going to surprise you on your birthday, but it seemed like you needed a little extra encouragement now.”

Mingi wanted to thank Wooyoung and was practically forcing himself now to drop into a full bow, but what he did instead was equally embarrassing: he started crying. Loudly, too, and in the middle of the library.

But Wooyoung didn’t mind. He never minded. He always knew that Mingi was loud, and emotional, and a little silly, but he never minded. In fact, those were the things he was the most insecure about until Wooyoung started telling Mingi that’s what he liked most about him. He simply pulled Mingi into a hug as the boy continued to sob loudly, and stroked his back all the while.

It still isn’t exactly clear when Mingi started falling for his best friend, but if there was one moment he had to pinpoint, it would be that day in the library that he was sure he was in love with Jung Wooyoung.

[beyond-the-birthday-massacre]

Good Night (#little-butterfly-writes contest submission)

Heyy! I wrote the most fluffy self-insert entry I could muster for the #little-butterfly-writes contest hosted by @little-butterfly-writes! I haven’t written for self-inserts for a long time and I’ve forgotten how fun it is to be self-indulgent :)) 10/10 highly recommend you to write one too! I named my MC Athena so I’ll use that name :)  

Fandom: MLQC - Gavin & Athena 

Genre: Fluff 

Word Count: 1473 

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At last, I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. 

The entire company had dealt with the high workload for weeks in order to meet the strict deadlines. The heavy pressure was finally off my shoulders after wrapping up the filming and editing for the big project. 

The office became more quiet as the crew members left for the day. Currently, I was one of the last people there, Minor being the other. For the past few weeks, we had always been the last ones. I underestimated him and his work ethic. He would say the same phrase around sunset: “Hey, Athena! It’s getting pretty late. Think we should call it a day?”

Every day, I would encourage him to head out first and every day, he’d insist we both leave together. 

Minor watched me lock the front doors, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So! Any plans for tonight?” he asked.

Rattling the handle, I murmured, “Not really…” Suddenly rewatching my favourite shows didn’t seem as appealing as it did when I had been busy. The temptation of procrastination vanished when I needed it the most.

Minor glanced at his phone screen. “That’s great! I’ll see ya later, boss!” With that, he walked away.

“Huh?” I stared at his shrinking figure until he turned the corner of the block. He really zoned out, but I didn’t blame him. His expression held nothing but pride and relief that the project was finally over.

***

When I got home, I turned on my laptop. Although Minor never failed to get me out of the office, he couldn’t stop me from working here. Everything was done but revising some materials wouldn’t hurt. Plus, I should look over the reports that I needed to submit next week. 

Frankly, I wasn’t sure how much time passed when I got up to take a long shower. After drying off, I grabbed the first comfortable thing in the closet and realized it was Gavin’s white T-shirt.

Gavin had left for a mission a few weeks ago. The mission was highly classified so I decided not to bother him for the duration of the time. My workload started piling up then and I distracted myself as best as I could. Now that work was out of the way, Gavin’s gentle eyes were back in my mind. When I imagined him smiling, I couldn’t help but do so myself. If I couldn’t see him soon, at least I could meet him in my dreams.

I turned off the light and pulled the covers to my chest, staring at the balcony window as I waited to drift off. There were traces of clouds across the glowing moon and I couldn’t bear to turn away from the serene view. It felt like I was staring at it for eternity until a shadow suddenly appeared. His amber eyes shone against the moonlight and the night wind rippled at his STF jacket, sweeping his hood down.

Before I knew it, I was already opening the balcony door, letting the chilly breeze spill in. “Gavin! You’re back!”

He nodded. Despite the time of day, Gavin didn’t look tired. In fact, with his steady composure and uniform, he looked like he was ready for another day at the Special Task Force. “Mm. The mission finished just now. I wanted to see you,” he said matter-of-factly. 

No matter how long I hadn’t heard his voice, it was distinct and recognizable. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until I gave him a tight hug. It was then when I felt a sudden drop of temperature and I withdrew abruptly: “Geez, you’re freezing!”

Smiling, he tugged me close again, stroking my black hair. “Don’t worry, I’m fine. But you . . .” He furrowed his brow, noticing my loose-fitting ‘dress’. Even in the dim room, the familiar shade of red on his ears was evident. He shed his jacket and I tried to stop him, but he managed to wrap it around me.

“You need it more,” I insisted. “You’re gonna catch a cold.” 

“It’s alright. I have something better.”

His hand slipped into mine. I couldn’t help but hold it tighter in hopes of generating more warmth for him. I brought him to the bed and bundled the blanket around him.

“How long were you flying? You know it gets colder at night,” I scolded, embracing him as we laid over the pillows. He wasn’t shivering but I held him close, unwilling to let go.

He burrowed into my chest and I could feel his smile through the thin fabric. “I promise to be more careful next time.”

“You always say that! Especially about your injuries. Speaking of which, let me see them.” Before Gavin could react, I yanked the blanket away, inspecting his forearms and his torso. 

“Ahem, I’m-I’m okay, really,” he assured, his ears burning bright again when I pulled at his button up shirt. I only found old scars that had already been engraved into my memory. 

Gavin brought my restless hands to his face. His gaze towards me never wavered. “I’m telling you the truth,” he said earnestly and kissed the back of each hand. He wrapped the blanket around us, nuzzling into my chest again. 

Relief steadied my heartbeat until he looked up at me and spoke in a low tone: “Before I left for the mission, I swore I wouldn’t get injured.” He paused, pressing closer. “Do I get a reward for honouring this promise?” 

Whether he was intentionally giving me the subtle, big, ol’ puppy eyes or not, I couldn’t refuse. Brushing his soft, brown fringe back, I pecked his forehead. “There,” I said, a smile playing across my lips. “How’s that?”

He frowned and cleared his throat. “I also made sure not to skip any meals.”

I gave a peck on his cheek. 

“I kept my sleep schedule consistent too.”

“Eight hours?”

“Mm.” 

“Was it eight hours or not?”

He nuzzled deeper into the crook of my neck, hiding his expression. Gavin’s face seemed to have warmed up since his arrival. I started laughing when he playfully bit me.

“Okay, okay, I understand. Agent B-7 has a tight schedule and he works very hard. Here,” I leaned towards his mouth and he closed his eyes, waiting expectantly. His anticipation made my heart flutter, but I couldn’t resist messing with him. In the last second, I moved lower and pressed my lips to his own neck, nibbling it for good measure and for payback. 

His soft groan was barely audible before he pulled me back, pinning me down into the pillows. “I don’t think you’re being fair, Athena. Seems like you’ve forgotten about your own sleep schedule.”

I froze but I tried my best to keep my cool. “My sleep schedule is fine, thank you very much, Officer.”

Feigning doubt, he hummed. “I’m not sure. You’ve been working overtime ever since I left.” He narrowed his eyes, carefully examining mine for reaction. “If Minor hadn’t insisted any earlier, you’d be at the office until midnight every day.”

My eyes widened. “Minor?! Aw, why am I even surprised?” Now to think of it, Minor had started to work longer hours around the day of Gavin’s departure. All this time I was hoping it was because Minor had been engrossed with the Miracle Finder project, not because of a task assigned by Officer Gavin.

“It’s almost 1 am. I should’ve found you fast asleep by now. How do I know if this isn’t a bad habit of yours?” Gavin leaned in, his proximity repelled my fleeting thoughts. His blue and black uniform made him seem so much more intimidating. “So,” he murmured, “are you ready to confess?”

I hoped my face wasn’t as red as it felt, but his grin knocked down my wishful thinking. “Okay, okay. I lied. My schedule is terrible.”

“Mm.” Satisfied, he released his grip on my wrists. “Let me help you fix it. Is this okay?” He cradled me in his arms, snuggling close. “If not, I can count sheep with you again.”

I giggled, recalling that night with all the sheep. It felt like nothing yet everything had changed. Sighing contently, I leaned into his broad chest. His heartbeat was calm, lulling me to drowsiness. “I think it’s working,” I mumbled, “as always.”

Gavin chuckled as he tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. His steady gaze was genuine and pure. “I sleep better when I’m with you too.”

My eyelids grew heavy and with the last source of energy that I could gather, I lifted my head and kissed him. His lips were soft against mine and when his parted in shock, I deepened the kiss. I could hear his heartbeat racing as I slumped against him again. 

“There. For everything you’ve done for me.”

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Final notes: I hoped you like it! A lot of things have changed in the MLQC fandom, but I hope everyone is doing well! Reading/writing anything about comfort characters really helps me so I had fun writing this!

I also write for luciensgunsee in Instagram --- it’s mlqc x reader stuff so if you’re interested in that, do check it out! I might put the extended, uncut versions of those scenarios here in Tumblr?? If anyone is interested, please let me know :))