#perfectly balanced as all things should be lol

[magnusbae]

bless you guys xD

[genericpuff]

vent post

[manyrandomfandoms]

George Rexstrew has mastered the art of heart eyes. Half the time Edwin looks at Charles he’s just like 🥰

[cheriboms]

doctober day 3: gun fight

aka "if i had a nickel for every time a bttf character got shot, but was wearing protective clothing (unbeknownst to their friend), i would have two nickels"

(bonus bc i didnt think id finish this one in time:)

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

i want top neuvillette who's still femme and a crybaby my god is that so hard

[wintaerbaer]

seven storms (jjk) (m)

summary: As a young woman of considerable wealth, it has always been your father's expectation that you would marry one of the local aristocrats once you came of age. Your family's stable hand? Certainly not an option.

pairing: Jungkook x Reader

rating: 18+ (MINORS DNI)

genres: forbidden love, angst, a bit of fluff, also a bit of smut

word count: 9.0k

warnings: ambiguous time periods, oc’s mom passed away when she was a child, parental strain and turbulent relationships, it’s not explicitly stated but bang sihyuk is oc’s dad, find the ‘seven’ reference, BRIEF SMUT (in the form of missionary, cowgirl, and implied unprotected, which you should not do)

a/n: this one is for the obs discord server, who came up with this plot and then flattered me until i agreed to write it lol

MASTERLIST // Read on ao3

It begins with a clap of thunder.

The dark clouds had rolled in quickly during your morning ride, the rain holding off on its looming descent even as the wind picks up and throws strands of hair across your face. You try to cling to every minute you have left before the downpour, savoring your alone time and the peaceful quiet of the morning. It may even be worth getting a little wet, you think as you watch the new stable hand effortlessly sling a bay of hale over his shoulder, for the chance to savor every moment of your daily ritual before the weather inevitably forces you back inside.

You love the simple pleasures of fresh air and the soft rustle of the grass.

Jungkook glances at you from afar as he continues his work, and even at this range, you can see his muscles shifting under the fabric of his shirt. It’s been roughly a month since your father hired him to tend the stable on your family’s estate, and while he hasn’t been unpleasant, giving you a friendly but silent nod each day as you prepare for your ride, he’s mostly kept his distance.

Today, however, is a different story entirely as a boom sounds out above your head. Your horse, a young stallion named Bam who is still being broken, startles at the noise and begins to nervously pace, tamping down the dirt under his hooves. The reins wrap tighter around your fingers as you attempt to take firmer control, but when a second crack emanates through the sky, the horse begins to buck in an attempt to throw you off.

The laws of physics cease to exist, time simultaneously speeding up and slowing down as you work to maintain your balance, clenching your muscles around the horse's back. A particularly violent whip of his head rips the reins free, and all you can do is try to flatten yourself to his back and hold on for dear life.

A pair of unfamiliar hands shoots into your peripheral vision, stroking firmly at the stallion's head and neck until he's easing back down, his erratic motions steadying until you can safely sit back up and face your rescuer.

"Are you alright?" His eyes scan your body for injury, moving from your face all the way down to your toes and back up.

You use the time to perform your own appraisal. The first thing you notice is that while he had immediately struck you as handsome when you first saw him around the property, he’s even more attractive up close: all soft eyes, perfect lips, and a tiny scar on his cheek that only adds to his allure. Add to that strong arms, broad shoulders, and a section of clearly-chiseled chest peeking out of his shirt, and you have to admit to yourself that you’re already halfway gone.

“Y/N?” His eyebrows dip as he frowns, clearly suspecting some kind of head injury as a result of your silence.

“You know my name.”

His expression turns quizzical at your bizarre answer. “I work for you. Of course I know your name.”

“You work for my father.”

“And you by extension.”

Your spine stiffens with rebellion. “I have no interest in bossing men around.”

“Why not?” He taps his knuckles on the saddle. “I see you come out to ride every morning. I could certainly tack up a horse for you in advance.”

“Because I’m perfectly capable of doing it myself.”

His perfect lips curl at the edges. “I don’t doubt that.”

Your heart stutters a rhythm behind your ribcage, voice muted by the appearance of a dimple that dips into his left cheek. It’s not often you find yourself speechless, and the sheer unfamiliarity of it has you on the brink of a flight response; you begin to gently guide your horse back towards the stable, Jungkook walking at your side. To your surprise, he doesn’t stay quiet.

“So how long have you been riding?”

You peek down at him, but he’s not looking at you as he scratches the stallion under his muzzle. “Since I was five,” you say. “My father arranged for private instruction after my mother died. Thought I could use the distraction.”

You figured he already knew about your mother’s passing due to her absence from the estate, and his unfazed expression seems to confirm as much. Still, in a gentle voice he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. You didn’t make her sick.” Another low rumble echoes through the sky, but Jungkook is prepared, already smoothing his hand over the Bam’s neck again. “What about you? How long have you worked with horses?”

He chuckles, and your belly warms. “Since before I could walk. I grew up on a ranch. Have probably spent more time around horses than people—not that I’m complaining.” A shrug pulls his shirt tight across his bulging shoulders. “Animals are better company, in my opinion.”

“You say while striking up conversation with a stranger.”

Pink blooms on his cheeks, but, to his credit, he recovers quickly. “Beautiful women are the exception.”

Heat rises to your own face, and you choose to ignore his comment as much as it has butterflies taking off behind your bellybutton. “I understand what you mean though. That’s why I’m out here every day.”

“You like the outdoors?”

“Very much,” you say. “The smell of the wind, the feeling of the sunshine on my skin and the earth under my shoes. I like to ride down to the sunflower fields and watch how they turn themselves towards the light. There’s a strange sense of kinship there.” You’re not sure what drives you to share all this with a man you’ve just met, but the way he nods along as if he agrees sets your heart at ease. “And the horses are, in fact, good company.”

He laughs again, tipping his head back to look at you. His dark hair brushes his forehead, jaw cutting so sharp a line that the temptation immediately hits to trace it with either your fingers or lips—you’re not sure which. You don’t even care if you’ll bleed.

It strikes you at that moment that you’re in a world of trouble.

The skies open up, the rain instantly pouring down in fat drops as you briskly rush your horse the rest of the way into the stable, Jungkook hot on your heels. You dismount once you’re inside and begin to untack the stallion, moving the reins up and over so you can remove the bridle first. Jungkook quickly steps in to help unhitch the saddle, and while you’d normally be inclined to make a fuss about how you can handle your own gear, you find that you much enjoy his quiet companionship. You like watching the way his gentle hands artfully work to simultaneously manage the equipment and relax the horse, giving the sense that he’s offering assistance only because he loves his work and not to patronize you as a woman (you’ve seen one too many men try to step in because they believe you to be incompetent).

Once Bam has been settled into his stall, you turn back to your companion and are met with big brown eyes already gazing at you, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“Thank you for your help today,” you say. “I may be an experienced rider, but that also means I know enough to understand that you likely saved me from an injury earlier. So thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” He looks suddenly subdued, nervous now without the horse as a buffer. “And if I may be forward, I hope I made a good first impression. I wouldn’t want a beautiful woman like yourself to think I overstepped.”

“That’s the second time you’ve mentioned beautiful women now. You speak with them a lot?”

“Not recently,” he says, dimple making another appearance. “Only one.” His voice drops a decibel, flirtation giving way to sincerity. “But truly, I do just like to help. I am sure you are perfectly capable, but just because we can do something doesn’t mean we always need to do it alone. If I can help ease a burden, then I would like to do so.”

Warmth floods through you like the rain currently running off the roof, and before you can even think about it any further, you find yourself nodding. “Very well.”

The smile he gives you brightens your day more than a hundred miles of sunflower fields ever could.

“I won’t keep you then.” He begins walking backwards towards the troughs where most of the horses have currently congregated. “But I do very much look forward to seeing you tomorrow.”

You do, too. And when you show up to the stable the next morning (and the next, and the next), you already have a horse saddled up for you, a single sunflower resting on the seat.

Raindrops clatter in endless sheets off the metal roof of the stable, the ringing sound blending with the blasts of thunder and lightning overhead to mask your groans as Jungkook steadily thrusts into you.

It’s been three months since your flirtation culminated in you asking him to join you for a ride one morning.

Three months since he accompanied you down to the sunflower fields, pulled you into their depths, and kissed you like his life depended on it.

Three months since the rain became your closest friend, providing you the cover you need for your more intimate moments—such as this evening when you’d arrived at the stables to find him laying down a fresh layer of straw, the flex of his arm insisting that you needed him now.

The patter of the rain ensures his moans are for your ears and your ears alone.

“Do you think the horses mind?” he mumbles into the sensitive skin of your neck as he presses even deeper into you and steals your breath, his hands cupping your ass as he grinds his hips.

“I doubt it,” you gasp, digging your nails into his back. “They’ve kept secrets for me before.”

He laughs, and you relish in the feel of the vibration of his chest pressed to yours, as if the sound is being passed directly from his lungs to your heart. “Am I your secret then?”

“My favorite secret.”

He pulls back to look at you then with wide eyes. You don’t know when it happened, when he became the absolute center of your universe, but you also know that you’ve never been this happy in your life, never felt as whole as you do with him. So you stare at him right back, absorb every angle of his face as he brushes the hair away from your eyes and kisses you with an unusual delicacy in comparison to the rough pace of his hips.

“I love you.”

It’s not the first time he’s said it, but your blood heats as if the words are brand new.

He rises up above you then, leans back so he can bend your knees to your chest and pound into you in earnest, and you’d swear the roof has disappeared and you can see every star in the sky. Galaxies swirl, planets align, and it’s not long before you’re falling over the edge and he’s following you with a deep groan—a harmony to the thunder that surrounds you.

The two of you collapse into a heap, and he pulls you into his side, your cheek pressed to his still-heaving chest. It’s serene, the consonance of his breathing alongside the tapping of the rain and the occasional snuffle from the horses.

“So, the horses are keeping secrets for you, huh?” It’s a quiet question, vulnerable as he gazes at you with tender devotion. The same stars you saw minutes ago twirl in his eyes. “Can I be told one?”

“Are you a horse?”

A breath of a laugh: “Well you’ve certainly ridden me before.”

He has a point there.

You hum to yourself as you think before asking, “What is your dream?”

“What does that have to do with—“

“Answer mine, and I’ll answer yours.”

Calloused fingers trace patterns on your hip, a faraway look taking over his expression as he envisions some distant future. “To own my own farm,” he says. “I want to be my own boss. No more having to serve others.” A smile dances at the corners of his mouth. “And I’d be able to provide for my family—have a few kids and teach them the ropes, just like my dad did with me.”

Your brow dips in confusion. “You won’t inherit your father’s farm?”

“No, it’ll go to my older brother.” He squeezes your hip on a sigh. “If I want my own farm, it’s up to me to earn it.”

“You’ll do it,” you say, and you believe it with every fiber of your heart. “I know you will. You’re the hardest working man I’ve ever met.”

It’s not a lie by any stretch. You’ve spent plenty an afternoon telling your father that you’re going to read out on the veranda as it gives you an inconspicuous way to watch Jungkook work. He’s diligent, tireless, and you’ve often used the need to bring him water as an excuse to go down and spend time with him, seeing the sweat drip off his forehead as he single-handedly trains and cares for the horses.

His eyes become glassy, a gruff clearing of his throat as he pushes the tears back and grazes his lips over yours in a gentle kiss instead. “Thank you.” But before you can deepen the kiss and distract him, he shifts ever so slightly away, a glint in his eye. “Now you.”

You puff a sigh into his chest—bold of you to think you’d be able to sneak one past such an observant stare. Still, your secrets don’t usually come forth easily, buried deep within the cavity of your ribcage so even you don’t have to dwell on them too long.

Something about those doe eyes, though, render you ever vulnerable.

“Mine is similar to yours. I want to be my own boss.”

His brows pull together. “No one would expect a lady like you to work.”

“Not for a job, for my life,” you say, irritation forcing the words from your lips now. “I don’t want my father to dictate the path my life takes. I want to choose it, whatever it is, for myself. To be in charge of my own fate.”

Jungkook is quiet for a long moment, teeth dipping into his lower lip as he considers your words. It’s something else you’ve grown to love about him, the way he stops and thinks before he reacts. So unlike your father who has always been nothing but big emotions and snap judgments.

“What would you choose?” is the question he eventually comes out with, and the pads of his fingers trace the jut of your hipbone like he’s memorizing it.

Well that’s another matter entirely. “I don’t know. Just not what my father wants for me.”

“And what would that be?”

“To marry one of the rich dandies in town,” you blurt, and his hands still. “That’s always been the expectation that’s been set since I was a girl—that my family would arrange a suitable match for me.” You’re practically spitting now, anger simmering through you. “Suitable, of course, meaning wealthy.”

“Is that so bad?” He asks it quietly, insecurity poorly masked in the way his voice trembles ever so slightly. “Some people would do almost anything to be in your position.”

You scoff. “There’s more to life than money.”

“Like what?”

“Fresh air, sunshine, the smell of the morning dew.” You tap his chest with everything you list off, as if they’re all housed within the framework of his torso. “The sound of the rain bouncing off windows, the bright yellow of sunflowers after their first bloom, watching a foal get its legs under it for the first time. Love.” You press your hand to his heart with that one, feeling the strong beat of it under your palm. “That’s the greatest thing.”

He snags your fingers, bringing them to his lips and kissing each one in succession before his hand slips into your hair so he can join his mouth with yours. The kiss is slow, thorough, his tongue trailing along your lower lip with determination as he drags you across his body until you’re straddling him.

“You’re right about that,” he murmurs before gripping your waist tightly so he can push back into you, the rain pouring on and on.

“No!”

Your father stands up so suddenly that his chair topples over with a crash, Jungkook sitting across from him wearing a look of even-keeled surprise; his eyes widen a fraction, but his overall posture remains resolved and confident.

“You dare have the audacity to even ask—“ He chokes on his words, spit flying from the edges of his lips, before pointing a finger towards where you stand stunned in the corner. “And you! You’ve been fraternizing with this riffraff? After everything I’ve taught you? Everything I did to raise you? You go and choose to associate with this—this—“ You’re worried his eyes might fall out of his head with the way they bulge as he grasps for a word, vein in his neck visibly thumping as he finds it. “Lowlife!”

“You’re wrong!” you scream as Jungkook continues to sit quietly at the dinner table. You’ll be damned if you’d just stand by and allow him to be spoken about in that way. “He’s an incredible man. He works hard, he’s respectful, and he loves me, Father. Not because of my money, but because I’m me.” Your steps echo off of the tall, looming arches of the ceiling as you move closer to Jungkook. “And I love him.”

“No, no, absolutely not. You’re only twenty years old. You don’t even know what love is,” your father barks before turning his beady eyes on Jungkook again. “You’ll never marry my daughter. You do not have my permission nor my blessing. That’s final.”

“Father—“

“You’re also fired,” he spits. “You can say goodbye and that’s the end of it. I want you off my property.” Then he’s storming out of the dining room, leaving you and Jungkook in heavy silence.

It’s only a handful of seconds before Jungkook is rising to his feet and striding from the room and out the front door, you hot on his heels. The steady drizzle soaks your clothes in a matter of moments, but you don’t even feel the way they cling to your skin, focused solely on the man in front of you.

“Jungkook!” you call, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t turn to face you until you manage to grab ahold of his hand and tug.

You thought he’d be distressed, angry, perhaps even crying. Instead, you’re met with intensity, a fierce determination simmering under the warm brown of his irises as his gaze bores into yours and almost has you faltering.

“Jungkook, I…” You wring your hands in front of you, watch the rain run in rivulets off the ends of his hair. “We can make it through this. I can convince him—“

“You can’t.”

You huff in frustration. “Then we’ll run away together! I’ll come with you and we’ll—“

“No, Y/N.” He stills the frantic movements of your hands with his own, drawing you towards the warmth of his body until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. “I have no savings right now, no way to support the two of us. We’d be out on the street in a matter of days.” He shakes his head, brushes a kiss to your knuckles. “No. You need to stay here for now. But this isn’t the end of us, I swear to you. I am going to work myself to the bone—until I have nothing left to give. Until I can buy my own farm, my own house, and give you everything you need.” Your foreheads press together, drops of water clinging to his lips and drawing your eye as he speaks. “I will provide for you someday, love you to the best of my ability. Just give me time.”

The heavens open above you, the relentless downpour backed by the cacophony of the skies as you finally move to kiss him. He tastes of rainwater and sweat, the fragrant aroma of sunflowers and nights spent tangled together in the stables. You savor the feel of his lips against yours, commit to memory the way his tongue begs for entrance, the way you grant it with a groan that feels like both a prayer and a curse.

With a final, resounding crack, he’s pulling away as you cling to the rough skin of his fingertips until the very last fraction of a second, arms stretched to their absolute limit. And when he turns his back on you, shirt plastered to his skin, you’d swear you can hear the horses raging in the stable, the rumble of hooves and agitated whinnies ringing in your ears long after he’s disappeared from view.

The first letter comes on a Wednesday roughly six week later, written on carefully folded parchment paper in small, neat handwriting. It surprises you, coming from a man who spends all day tending horses and tossing around hay bales. You receive the letter from the carrier quietly, rushing it up to your room and waiting to read until the concealment of night has fallen and you’re confident your father has gone to bed.

My Love,

I must admit that I am not quite sure how long it has been since I last saw you. Perhaps only a handful of weeks, surely, but every hour, minute, and second has felt like an eternity. I miss you, sweetheart. I miss the sound of your laugh. I miss the way you’d look each morning, strolling down from the house with a bounce in your step and the early sunshine bouncing off of your hair. Or perhaps you are just that radiant. I would believe it, you know, that light emits from your very smile, and I know I feel warmer whenever I am around you.

Look at me; look at the man you've turned me into. I've always considered myself a simple being, glad to indulge in the dirt and physical labors of the outdoors, and yet you have me waxing poetic like one of the men in those romance novels you would always pretend to read on the veranda. (Yes, my dear, I noticed. Your stares are not so subtle.) I am lovesick, homesick, and it’s all because of you. Because my life truly began the day I looked up and saw Bam struggling with you on his back and just knew I had to help you (tell that dear beast that I miss him by the way).

Now, I must live my life forlorn, but not without purpose. Please know that I am doing everything in my power to get back to you, and I will not rest until I am holding you in my arms again. I have secured a job at a ranch several towns over; it’s good work with decent pay, and every cent that does not go towards the barest necessities is being saved for us. One day, my love. One day we will have a house and a farm, and I will be able to love you openly, with no need for secrets or the cover of rain.

In the meantime, just know how terribly I miss you, and though we are separated by distance, I hold you in my heart each day. On my way each morning from my lodgings to the ranch, I pass by a field of sunflowers. I know it cannot possibly be true, but it feels like every golden face turns towards me as I go, and darling, I’d swear I see you in every one.

One day, my love.

Until then, always yours,

J.K.

It becomes something of a ritual: while you used to spend your days out on the veranda pretending to read so that you could watch Jungkook from afar, you now settle on the front porch with a book each afternoon in the hopes of catching the local mail carrier. Jungkook’s letters come slowly but consistently every couple of weeks, and each time a letter does arrive, you spend the night drafting your own by candlelight to send back to him.

He tells you about his new job, how he’s working on a larger farm now with several other laborers. The veterans are kind to him and teaching him a lot, he says, and it eases the ache in your heart a fraction to know that he seems happy where he is and well taken care of. You write back about your favorite books that you’ve been reading and how the horses have been (you insist that you can tell Bam misses Jungkook too). But both of your letters are saturated with sentiments of love and how dearly you miss each other, reminding yourselves that every day that passes is one day closer to you two being reunited, whenever that may be.

Your father, meanwhile, proceeds as if Jungkook never existed, hiring a new stable hand who begins his work mere days after Jungkook has left. This man is middle aged, gray already streaking through his hair, and you can’t help but feel it’s a deliberate choice on your father’s part lest you fall for another lowly laborer. And though you know it is not his fault, you barely speak with the man outside of a few curt pleasantries when you go for your ride each morning.

You persist in your morning rides out of habit, but you find that they don’t bring you the same kind of joy that they used to. The grass isn’t quite as green, the air is often stifling, and the sunflowers droop where they used to stand tall against the blue skies. On one day, roughly six months after Jungkook’s firing, you’re once again forced back inside early due to rain, the storm dampening your already dreary mood. It takes a turn for the worst when you hear your father call your name the moment you step in the door and plummets entirely off a cliff when you trudge into the dining room to see a man sitting at the table.

Seokjin is not entirely unfamiliar to you—your families run in the same circles after all—but he is ultimately little more than a stranger, the two of you having only exchanged a handful of polite words at dinner parties and the like. All that you truly know of him is that he is the heir to the wealthiest trading company on this side of the country and that his father is expected to transition the entire operation to him over the next few years.

Even so, Seokjin greets you with a sense of intimate familiarity, standing at your approach and brushing his lips against the back of your hand before you can stop him.

“A pleasure to see you, Y/N, as always.”

You know that social etiquette requires you to return the sentiment, but instead, you find yourself looking between Seokjin and your father, trying to figure out his purpose here.

“What is going on?”

Your father grimaces at your rudeness but opts to ignore it. “Seokjin has come here with a rather exciting opportunity, Y/N, if you would take a seat and listen to him.”

However, you remain standing, spine stiff and wary eyes shifting to the man in front of you with his finely tailored clothes and perfectly combed hair. He, for what it’s worth, doesn’t cower under your stony gaze, maintaining an air of utmost confidence as he states, “Y/N, I would like for you to marry me.”

“No.”

Your answer is immediate and blunt, coming so quickly that Seokjin barely reacts—only the tiniest dip of his mouth as if he doesn’t believe he heard you correctly. But your father leaps to his feet, face red with shock and frustration.

“Y/N, you sit down and listen to the man.”

“I don’t need to listen,” you snap. “My answer is no.”

Seokjin registers your words then, face morphing into a deep frown of disbelief as your father hurries to intervene, grabbing you around the arm to pull you out of the dining room and turning on you the moment you are out of earshot.

“Insolent girl! That man will soon be one of the most powerful in the country—nay, the world! Do you understand the opportunity he is offering you? The life he is offering? How dare you refuse him!”

“Whatever life he is offering is one I want no part of,” you argue, pulling your arm from his grasp to wrap them across your chest. “I have no interest in being married to a man like that. I want to be with someone who loves me.”

He goes deathly still for a moment, drawing connections in his head until you see the moment the realization hits him. “This is about that lousy stable boy, isn’t it?”

You say nothing, only hug yourself tighter and try to swallow down the sudden lump in your throat.

“That’s it, yes? You’re still holding onto some hope that he will come back for you and what? The two of you will go off and live in some hovel? What could he possibly offer you?” he snarls. “No, Y/N. That vermin is gone. You have a chance—a real chance—at a future here, and I’ll be damned if I let you throw it away for the idea of some lower class scum.”

As his words sink in, a chill passes through your body that’s quickly replaced with a white-hot anger, your hands dropping to your sides as you straighten your back in defiance.

“Whether Jungkook returns or not,” you assert, “please be assured that I will never, ever, marry one of your suitors. I will die before I become a mere pawn for your business deals.”

Your father stares at you incredulously, eyes practically bursting from his head. “Business deals? I am looking out for you. So that you can live the luxurious life a child of mine deserves.”

“The life I deserve is the one which I want,” you exclaim. “And these rich dullards are not it.”

Final word given, you spin on your heel in emphasis and march off to your room, leaving your father to clumsily patch things up in the dining hall with a humbled and deeply befuddled Seokjin.

The letters stop two years in.

A month passes, then two, then three before you begin to really worry. Another four gone in a blink before you start to consider that you may never actually hear from him again.

For a while, you continue to write to him, thinking that at the very least, if he’s moved to a new job, someone from his old ranch may forward them along if they know where he’s gone to. But after a year of silence transpires, the mail carrier shaking his head at you each day as you rush to meet him outside your house, true dread sets in.

Your address hasn’t changed, which means that he’s stopped writing to you for some reason. Is it possible that he’s moved on? Met another woman perhaps and chosen to settle down? Or…could it be something worse? Your mind hesitates to even go down this path, the terror seeping into your bones, but the thought creeps in late at night when you’re at your most vulnerable that something may have happened to him. Work accidents, illness—any number of dangerous things could have taken him from you without you even knowing. Then again, he sounded healthy in his final letter to you, no word at all of him being ill, and you’d like to think he would’ve arranged for someone to contact you if some tragedy had befallen him.

You conclude, then, that he must have given up. And really, after years of hoping for a shift, for some change in fortune for your futures, you cannot entirely blame him. If anything, you just wish you had seen the signs sooner, sensed some kind of shift in tone that would have prepared you for his sudden silence. His last letter, though, had been much of the same—more updates on his ranching job mixed in with poetic phrases about his love for you. You read it endlessly, poring over the words for some indication that his feelings for you had waned, sitting huddled in a hidden corner of the stables as rain pounds down against the tin roof. Instead, it just makes your heart ache to remind you of love found and lost, his final words haunting you as time continues to drag on to your dismay.

As the months tick by, you keep your promise to your father, steadfastly refusing each suitor that comes to call for you: Jung Hoseok, Kim Namjoon, and even Min Yoongi, who shows up in your dining room every evening for a fortnight before finally accepting your refusal. Meanwhile, you move through your days as if by design, going through the motions without feeling like you’re actually alive. Food is tasteless, your books void of thought, and the skies have certainly lost their color. You find that you actually prefer rainy days now, often taking walks through the drizzle and allowing the droplets of water to slide over your skin and caress you as he once did. Sometimes, it almost makes you feel as if he’s there beside you—memories of thunder and slick kisses enveloping your thoughts and soaking you from the inside out.

No fewer than seven years pass this way, with you haunting the premises of your home while your father begins to complain about you becoming a leech and a burden. You begin to question it yourself, wondering if it may be too much to waste away like this, when, three days after your twenty-seventh birthday, a discovery has you running from your father’s house and never looking back.

It’s another dreary, rainy day, and you, wanting to soak in the full effect of the emblematic weather as it pertains to your mood, have once again parked yourself on the front porch with a book. Your father passed you on his way out earlier, casting a scathing look that you didn’t even bother to grant any attention—you’ve long grown accustomed to his contempt and futile glares.

A little past midday, you glance up at the sound of a person approaching, their footsteps ricocheting off the front steps. Park Jimin comes to a halt under the porch’s cover, gazing at you curiously as if wondering why you are outside in this weather at all. However, if he finds your behavior strange, he doesn’t say anything, a choice which comes of no surprise to you. One of your father’s youngest business partners, you’ve always liked Jimin during the times that you’ve interacted with him. He’s quiet, polite, and has never made an attempt at courting you, always respecting the boundaries that many other young men have tried to cross over the years.

That being said, you’re inclined to at least offer him a greeting, acknowledging his presence with a mannered, “Hello, Mr. Park.”

“Good day,” he responds with a small bow in your direction. “Is your father at home?”

“No, he had to attend a business meeting with Mr. Kim this morning.” You frown as his face falls, a touch of panic widening his eyes. “Is something wrong?”

A delicate finger rises to rub at his temple. “Ah, I’m supposed to be finalizing a contract with Hybe Trading Company later this afternoon,” he says. “Your father told me to come pick up the documents beforehand.”

“He may be back soon,” you guess. Your father didn’t give an indication of exactly when he would return, but you do know his meeting with Kim Taehyung wasn’t supposed to last all day.

“I may not be able to take that risk.” He chews at his lip, thinking. “Is it possible that he left the contracts for me somewhere? Might you be able to check?”

Your jaw drops a fraction at his request—you could count on one hand the number of times that you’ve been in your father’s office. “I don’t think—“

“Please, Y/N,” Jimin begs. “We can’t afford to lose this partnership.”

The desperation in his expression has you acquiescing, and so you lead him inside and tell him to wait in the entryway as you head to your father’s office on the second floor.

The room is arguably the grandest in the house, with magnificent windows that give a full view of the estate’s grounds and tall bookshelves packed with your father’s collection of texts. The finest rugs protect the hardwood under your feet, and at the center of the room sits a monstrous yet beautiful mahogany desk with a plush chair at its back.

You move to the desk first, skimming the documents scattered on top for something that has the trading company’s name on it. But all you see are invoices, shipping records, and maps of different trading routes marked with your father’s notes, and lightly shuffling through the papers comes up fruitless as well.

The first desk drawer you open contains a series of highly-organized ledgers, so you quickly move on to the second, which has the same. The third drawer reveals a reserve of desk and writing supplies, while the fourth, finally, contains a mess of paper.

You rummage through the clutter, still not finding anything that seems to be the contract Jimin is looking for, and are about to give up when a stack of letters buried at the back of the compartment has you freezing, the small, neat handwriting chilling you to the bone.

Pulling the stack out with shaking hands, you quickly realize that there are a few dozen, all postmarked no more than two months apart between each one. Collapsing backwards into the desk chair, you read frantically, quickly realizing just how wrong you were about Jungkook giving up on you:

My Dearest, it’s been a while since I’ve heard from you, but I pray your letters were simply lost in transit…

I’m incredibly pleased to let you know that I’ve received a promotion. The owner of the farm, Mr. Lee, has taken a liking to me and has shifted me to a more considerable role with additional pay. I’m saving every bit I can…

My Love, I miss you deeply. And while your silence pains me to no end, I hope it is a mere misunderstanding. If you do not wish to hear from me ever again, only say the word and I will stop writing to you and remove myself from your life entirely, albeit with a heavy heart…

I still have some ways to go, but my savings are increasing exponentially, and I am learning more than ever. Mr. Lee has been teaching me about the business side of things and helping me make connections. What a wonder to have a boss who fully supports your aspirations! He insists he will be able to help me in my endeavors, and call me naive, but I believe it to be true. Rest assured, love, that I am steadfastly working hard for you, for us, and for our future…

My Darling Y/N, my heart aches to not read your words and hear your thoughts. But since you have not yet rejected me outright, I can only assume that your silence is involuntary or that it comes with deep hesitation. Whatever the reason, please know that I love you, I miss you, and I am not giving up on us unless you tell me so…

And finally, the shortest letter dated almost year back:

Y/N,

I don’t have the words to describe my feelings so I will keep it brief: I did it. If this letter finds its way to you and you wish to find me, I eagerly await you at our home…

The location is scribbled in a tangle of text, his usually neat writing askew as if he was shaking when he wrote it, and the words land with the force of a thousand bricks in your chest—the weight of seven years apart, the agony of your separation, finally culminating in this revelation.

The door to the office bangs open, and you look up, heart already racing with the discovery of the letters, to see your father looming in the doorway, face painted with rage.

“What in the hell are you doing in my private office?!”

You’re on your feet in an instant, storming across the room and shaking the final letter in his face. “What is this?!”

He pales a fraction as he registers what you’re holding before stepping further into the room and slamming the door shut. “I should have burned them,” he sneers. “I did what I did to protect you.”

“From what?” You wave your arms wildly, anger and adrenaline winding their way through your limbs. “From happiness? From a man who has spent years working hard to be able to provide for me?”

“I have worked hard to provide for you! And I will not see my legacy be thrown aside for some silly crush!”

Steeling yourself, you pull in a steadying breath for courage. “Then you won’t.”

“And what does that mean?” your father scoffs, trying to look dismissive and intimidating, yet seeming smaller than you’ve ever seen him.

“You won’t see any of it. I’m leaving.”

“What?”

Time stops for a moment, your declaration holding the air in the room hostage as your father fully absorbs your words.

“You ungrateful idiot girl!” your father suddenly exclaims. “After everything I’ve done for you? Fine then! Go live with the dogs, with the filth and slime you apparently love so dearly. I have had it with your thanklessness and impertinence and will be relieved to have you from my sight.” He steps into your personal space, pointing a finger directly at your face so close that you can feel the heat of his ire radiating off of his hand. “But know this: the second you step out of these doors, you will never be welcomed back. Never.”

You waste only two seconds longer, locked in a stubborn stare-down with your father before you rip your gaze away and tear from the room with Jungkook’s letters still in hand. Rushing to your room, you gather his other letters from your desk and stuff them into a bag along with the modest sum of money you had accumulated in case you ever needed to run.

And then you’re a bird in flight, sweeping down the stairs and out the door with nothing but a simple, “Good day, Mr. Park,” as you pass an absolutely bewildered Jimin in the front hall.

The rain is cold and heavy as it soaks through your clothes and hair almost immediately, but you barely feel it—the freedom in your heart and the scribbled location in your bag more than enough to keep you warm as you charge towards home.

The house is beautiful.

Modest, compared to the mansion you grew up in, sure. But arguably more beautiful—with a compact two stories, white wood, and neatly painted green shutters. There’s a wrap-around porch overlooking the acres upon acres of farmland, and even through the rain falling in sheets and blurring your vision, you spy two rocking chairs sitting side-by-side under the awning.

It’s been a long two weeks of journeying to get to this spot, relying on the kindness of strangers to help you navigate to the location Jungkook had written down. Now, standing at the end of the dirt path leading up to what is presumably your new home, you think that you would do it all again in a heartbeat. The past two weeks, the past seven years, all worth it to experience the hope currently blooming in your chest like the sunflowers you spent so much time admiring in the past.

You’re trudging up the path, the dirt and mud smearing along your shoes, when a darkened figure steps out from the fields to your right, hand raised in greeting.

“Good afternoon, miss. Are you lost? I—” He grinds to a halt like he’s walked straight into a brick wall, eyes wide and lips parted as he absorbs the sight of you soaked and disheveled on his property.

“Y/N?” he says it like a prayer, like he believes you’re some kind of hallucination—a phantom come to haunt him through the haze of rainy memories.

You stare at each other through the downpour, and you find yourself studying him, observing the changes that have taken place in the time you’ve been apart. He’s taller and broader than you remember, shoulders stretching wide and drawing your gaze down towards biceps that protrude below his drenched shirt. The lines of his face have sharpened with age—losing some of the youthful roundness that had endeared him to you so quickly—but he’s still starry-eyed as ever, the charming young man from your memories undoubtedly gazing back at you.

“Jungkook,” you murmur, and the spell is suddenly broken. You surge towards each other, meeting in the middle with a flash of lightning. Your arms go around his shoulders, and Jungkook pulls you into him so desperately and with so much force that he lifts you right off your feet, your mouths coming together with a heated urgency.

He’s everything you’ve dreamed of, every desperate memory you’ve been clinging to come back to life. And with every touch, every pass of his hands over your body, you feel yourself rapidly coming back to life too—joy making its way into your lungs and through your bloodstream for the first time since you were twenty years old and kissing this man in your family’s stables.

“I’ve missed you,” he breathes against your lips when you finally part. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you, too.”

“You have no idea–”

“I do. Jungkook, I do.”

“You stopped writing—”

“My father,” you rush to say. “He intercepted the letters. I thought you stopped writing. Thought you gave up—”

“Oh, my love, never.” His hands rise to cradle your face. “I never stopped thinking of you. Never stopped dreaming of this.” He kisses you again, slowly this time, savoring every movement of his lips against yours.

You shudder against his chest, the thrill of your reunion rattling your nerves just as a cool wind blows through, and Jungkook pulls back with worry.

“You must be freezing,” he murmurs sweetly. “Come. Let’s get you warmed up inside.”

With an arm wrapped around your waist, as though he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t keep a hand on you, he guides you the rest of the way to the house, up the front porch steps, and through the front door.

“Welcome home,” Jungkook says.

You’re met first with the smell of pine and cinnamon and an impossibly comforting warmth. The first floor is comprised of a wide-open space, with a small kitchen and dining room to your left and a sitting room to your right that has tall windows and a fireplace that is currently roaring. You move around the room slowly, taking it all in, and when you notice the vase of bright sunflowers sitting in the middle of the kitchen table, you just about melt to the floor.

“I know it’s smaller than you’re used to,” he sheepishly mumbles from the doorway. “But we can expand in the future—”

“It’s perfect, Jungkook.” And it really is, every panel and floorboard evidence of how hard he’s worked, how fiercely your love has endured. “It’s absolutely perfect. I love every bit of it.”

He brightens at that, smile stretching wide. “I’m glad.”

“How did you find it?”

“Well, I bought the property after finally saving enough money. Mr. Lee helped me with the buying process.” He shrugs. “And then I built this.”

You freeze, absolutely stunned. “You what?”

“I built it,” he says simply. “I had some help, of course. But the design is all mine.”

“I…you…” It makes your thoughts spin—the idea that he did all of this. He built a house for you.

“Here, look.” He takes your hand and pulls you into the living room, gesturing at a set of empty shelves against the back wall. “For your books.”

You laugh incredulously, fully overwhelmed at this point. “I didn’t bring any with me.”

“Then we’ll start you a new collection,” he says softly, drawing you towards him.

You reach up to trace his jaw, his brow, his cheekbones—memorizing every line of this beautiful man who dared to make your dreams a reality. “I can’t believe this. Can’t believe you. The things you’ve done.”

“All for you, my love.”

Your heart thumps a steady rhythm in your throat, love and the relief of finally—finally—having him in front of you overpowering your senses until all that exists is you and him; the strain of your former life feels worlds away.

Hands find his chest in a slow migration downwards as the chill of the rain gives way to the heat of the fireplace, and it’s not long before his large hands are wrapping around your hips, a darkness in his irises that wasn’t there a second ago.

“There’s an upstairs, too, I’m assuming?” you whisper, fingers teasing a button on his shirt.

“There is.” He swallows, and you watch the bob of his Adam’s apple like a lure. “Would you like to see it?”

You lean in, skimming your mouth below his without fully joining your lips. “Please.”

Tangling your fingers in his, he practically runs upstairs with you trailing in his wake.

Finally, you think, as he pulls your clothes from your body, climbs over you on the bed, and presses into you with such tender deliberation that you think you’ll combust.

Finally, as you spend the rest of the night wrapped up together, endlessly whispering I love yous back and forth.

Finally, as you wake up in his arms the next day, his face the first thing you see.

Finally, as he pulls out a small box at breakfast, the dainty diamond ring easily the most precious piece of jewelry you’ve ever possessed.

Finally, as he takes you out on the farm and shows you the small field of sunflowers he planted just for you.

Finally, you think, as you sit in one of the rocking chairs on the porch and watch him work from afar. I’m home.

Years Later…

“Mama! Mama look!”

You glance up from your book to where Jungkook and Haneul are currently journeying in the yard. It’s a bright sunny day—the wide expanse of blue sky above unmarred by even a single cloud. Sunshine beams down onto your son’s smiling face where he sits on the back of one of the horses, a too-big cowboy hat on his head and his father at his side for support.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart!” you call. “Just be sure to listen to Papa!”

Jungkook flashes you a grin, the excitement radiating off of him in waves. He’s been talking about teaching Haneul to ride since the day he was born, so you know this means a great deal to him, especially seeing your son’s own energy and enthusiasm. Haneul has always liked the “horsies,” toddling happily around the stables ever since he could walk.

Then again, given who his parents are, that wasn’t much of a surprise.

Jungkook and Haneul finish their loop around the yard, and you hear your husband shower the boy with praise as he lifts him off of the horse’s back.

“Again, again!” Haneul cheers, bouncing in place and causing Jungkook to laugh.

“We will! Just let me check on your mother first.”

He moves comfortably, leisurely as he climbs the porch steps and comes to a rest in front of where you sit. Looming over you, he leans in until he can press a gentle kiss to your lips, reverent in his motions.

“How are you feeling?” he asks. His fingers brush lightly over your belly and its new curve.

“I’m alright,” you say, guiding his hand until his palm is resting flat. “This one is kicking up a storm though.”

As if on cue, you feel a tiny jolt—Jungkook giving a breathless chuckle as he feels the jab himself.

“Go easy on your mother,” he says in the direction of your stomach, rubbing a soft circle into your flesh. “No storms. Clear skies and sunshine.” Then his eyes are back on your face. “Speaking of, I have something for you.”

He reaches behind his back and produces a single sunflower, tucking it behind your ear before giving you one more kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers.

“I love you, too.” More than the day you met him. More than the day he left. And more than the day you finally made your way here.

“Now I should get back to Haneul before he starts yelling for me.”

You laugh out the brightest sound that’s ever come from your lungs. “Go.”

A warm breeze ripples through the trees, the sound of your son’s giggles and Jungkook’s cheerful exclamations finding their way back to where you sit.

What a beautiful day, you think, setting down your book and getting up to join your family in the golden sunshine.

a/n: thanks for reading! pls don't forget to like, reblog, and/or comment if you enjoyed!

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | y’all accidentally adopt a kid

♡ fandoms; Halloween, Texas Chainsaw Massacre (original + 2006), Dead by Daylight, slashers (general)

♡ characters; Micheal Myers, Thomas Hewitt, Bubba Sawyer

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡cw; parenthood (?), mentions of violence

♡notes; i work with toddlers all day yet still somehow get baby fever- so here’s this i guess lol.

i can’t see Brahms as a dad so skipped out on him this time, Vincent is iffy too but we might come back to him

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Micheal Myers

> micheal never wanted to be a father before he met you

> he knows for a fact he has something terribly wrong with him

> and while it never bothered him…it was far too dangerous to pass on

> but the way you light up when little kids on the street wave to you

> how you talked about building a family when you got drunk and sappy

> and how soft and gentle you were holding your friend’s baby…

> he knew you’d be the perfect parent, good enough to balance any bullshit he was bring to the table

> so it’s maybe not a complete accident when he stalks into the house with a banged up stroller out front

> the baby is crying, his parents passed out from some shit they snorted in the living room

> it makes his job easier when he slits their throats, and he’s sure as hell not sympathetic

> not that he ever is

> he follows the cries upstairs- a tiny little boy is wailing in his crib

> but he stops and stares at Micheal, blue eyes wide as he looms in the door

> at first Micheal thinks the racket it going to start again and braces for the scream

> but the boy reaches for him eagerly instead, making grabby hands and squealing

> it takes a bit of snooping but Micheal finds some paperwork after he’s secured the child in a carrier

> Miles. The boy’s name is Miles, and he’s ten months old- just tiny for his age

> you think he’s fucking with you when he sets a baby carrier on your table that night

> “…that’s Miles.” He mutters and walks away

> you’re pissed but you can’t say you have anything but an urge to protect this tiny boy

> he has red hair, and light freckles and the sweetest disposition

> he’s perfect, surely Micheal wouldn’t just steal a child…not without good reason

> and you notice Micheal still lingering, watching you both

> you try not to smile

> “…well. Gonna help me find somewhere he can sleep or not?”

Thomas Hewitt

> when Charlie brings in the little girl, Luda Mae is beyond excited

> she had no idea the couple she’d sent down their road had a baby

> her dark curls and chubby legs and ruddy pink cheeks remind her so much of Thomas at that age too

> not too far off from one if she’s got it right

> she’s thinking selfishly, she’s always wanted a daughter

> but Thomas’ eyes go so wide when you both walk in

> he’s in awe of the tiny lil thing sleeping against his mama’s shoulder

> he won’t hold her, terrified of hurting her

> but you’re eager to take her for a bit and he gets real close, chin hooked on your shoulder so he can inspect her closely

> she’s all giggles as she touches his mask

> and you’re nearly in tears when she snuggles up against you

> “…yknow…i’ve been thinkin. i’m much closer to grandmama age than mama age now”

> you say yes before Luda can finish her ask - there was nothing you wanted more than a child with Thomas

> he’s hesitant, but he already adores her

> you have no way of knowing her name, so what you should call her is a bit of a hot topic for a few days

> Charlie wants to name her Charlotte because he’s a self centered bastard , and Luda Mae has about a thousand suggestions that come from baby books decades older than you

> but you let Thomas decide

> Audrey Mae Hewitt is what he chooses

> Audrey from a book he read

> Mae from his mama

> and it suits her perfectly

Bubba Sawyer

> “hey cook! look what i got!”

> Drayton about beats Choptop in the plate when he sees him carrying a toddler under his arm like a log

> but he’s kind of impressed such a scrawny dirtbag can carry a chunky kid like that

> the little boy is a healthy weight for two or so, with lil chipmunk cheeks that dimple when he grins

> and the cutest damn mullet you’ll ever see

> Drayton is getting too damn old for this, and there’s only one person he trusts even a minuscule amount in the house

> so he just. hands him to you when you walk into the front room

> “congratulations, it’s a boy”

> you’re confused but excited

> and a bit concerned with how he and Bubba will feel once the man gets home

> a kid is a big commitment- and a man that wears people’s faces can be scary

> but Bubba immediately squeals and beelines for the little one when he staggers in

> they both tilt their heads curiously before the boy tries to climb up his leg

> when he picks him up, the boy gives a huge belly laugh, kicking his legs

> you choose his name- politely declining your boyfriend’s brothers’ insistence on Lil Choppy or Drayton II

> Jedediah Junior sounds perfect to you - little JJ

[slut4thebroken]

Party Favor

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Robert Fischer x reader (college au)

Summary | After you get too drunk at a party, Robert takes you upstairs to “lay down.”

Warnings | Smut, non con, drunk sex, misogyny, degradation, non con filming, anal fingering, object insertion, humiliation, he’s a horrible person lowkey, breeding, come feeding.

Words | 1.8 k

Notes | Guys I’m so excited for this lol (and yes, this was inspired by a video on nsfw twitter💀) (Also ty @hllywdwhre for all your help!)

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“God- you’re so pretty. Has anyone ever told you that before?” You asked, words slurred as your body swayed into him. 

“Pretty? No..” He chuckled, making you frown. 

“Well it’s true.” You said definitively. “Your hair is pretty,” he grabbed your wrists and pulled them away when you reached for his perfectly styled hair, “your eyes are pretty… your lips are pretty.” You giggled, brushing your fingers over his lips. 

“Okay,” He laughed, almost uncomfortably, “drink some more.” You didn’t protest when he handed you the bottle of vodka, watching you take a large swig. 

“Mm… god, I love looking at you.” You groaned, staring up at him with glassy eyes. 

“You don’t handle alcohol very well, do you?” He asked amusedly, having to wrap an arm around your waist when you swayed again and almost lost your balance. “Okay.. You should lay down.” He decided, taking the bottle from you. As he led you over to the staircase, he passed a handful of people, only some of which actually looked at you. Most of those people were guys giving encouraging jeers, some were girls staring at you with either jealousy or contempt. 

He brought you into a room and closed the door, then laid you down on the bed before laying down next to you, keeping a safe distance for now. You turned on your side to face him and he tried to keep his face neutral and not show his annoyance when he realized you were about to talk. 

“Y’know, sometimes you’re kind of a dick-” Your words were cut off by a hiccup and he raised his brows, waiting for you to finish. “You’re a dick… but sometimes you’re tolerable to be around. Like right now.” You smiled, making him roll his eyes. 

“Drink some more.” He handed you the bottle again, hoping that if you got drunk enough, you’d stop talking for once. You brought it up to your lips and downed more of the liquid, barely even reacting to the taste anymore. When your eyes fluttered closed and you brought the bottle back down, he got up and walked to the foot of the bed, then grabbed your ankles and pulled you to the edge, startling you. 

“Robert?” 

“Shh… Just keep drinking.” He wrapped your legs around his hips, then pushed your skirt up, making you whine quietly and reach a hand down to weakly push him away. He ignored you though and opened his pants to free his cock, then pulled your panties to the side and lined up. When he finally forced it in, a pained moan escaped you as he groaned quietly. 

“Robert…” You whined, trying to push him away again. In response, he leaned over you and grabbed the bottle, then lifted it to your lips and helped you drink more of it. He started fucking you slowly, making you whimper and squirm under him, trying uselessly to get away. Your walls were fluttering around his cock as you struggled to adjust to his size and he moaned quietly every time you tightened up. 

You pushed the bottle away so he let go and left it leaning upright against your arm as he lifted himself back up. Holding the tops of your thighs, he started bucking into you a little faster and you cried out as your back arched off the bed. If you were trying to convince him you didn’t want it… you were doing a shit job. 

“Robert..” You whined, eyes barely able to stay open. He ignored you and used one hand to push your shirt up, exposing your tits. Even though putting up with you all night was one of the most annoying things he’s ever done, it was definitely worth it. Your pussy felt brand new and your tits were bouncing with each thrust, turning him on even more. 

When your eyes fluttered shut, he pulled out his phone and started recording, getting your whole body in frame for a few seconds before moving closer to your hips. He bit his lip to stifle a groan at the way your walls looked stretched to the brim around his cock. When you let out a quiet noise, he saw that you were trying to open your eyes again. So he used his free hand to grab the bottle and bring it back to your lips, making you drink some more. 

You let out a muffled sound and weakly pushed the bottle away, but he kept it there for a few more seconds, forcing more of the alcohol into your mouth for you to drink. Once it was pretty much empty, he lifted the bottle and downed the rest of it, then tossed it on the bed. 

Even though your eyes were closed and your head was lolled to the side, you were still whimpering and moaning, especially when he grabbed the top of your thigh again and started fucking you harder and faster. Your cunt was leaking so much that it was making wet sounds with each thrust and he moved his phone closer to show his cock glistening with your arousal. 

Your sounds were completely incoherent and he could tell you were trying to say something, but the words were too slurred to make anything out. So he leaned over you and shoved two fingers in your mouth, making you choke instantly. He wanted to warn you not to puke on his hand, but he wasn’t sure what he was going to use this video for yet, so he stayed silent. You brought a hand up to grab his wrist, but could barely even try to pull his fingers out of your mouth. 

When he got tired of that, he removed his fingers and slapped your tits a few times, making you flinch and let out a startled moan with each hit. After another beat, he stepped back and pulled out. Your legs fell open as if your body was completely limp, but he ignored it and turned off the camera, then set his phone down to move you into the position he wanted. 

“Fuck, you’re heavy.” He scoffed, flipping your dead weight onto your stomach, then lifting your hips until you were on your knees. He got on the bed behind you and resumed filming as he pushed his cock back in. Your sounds were more muffled like this at least, even as he slapped and groped your ass. His thrusts never faltered as he pulled you open a little and spat on your rim, then used his thumb to drag the saliva up to your asshole. The second he pushed his thumb in, you were whining and trying to move away, making him flatten his hand on your ass and pull you back into position. 

He brought the camera closer for a good view of both holes, almost moaning at how your cunt was visibly puffy and red now. When he started fucking his thumb in and out, you blindly reached a hand back with the intention of pushing him away, but it dropped onto the bed before you could reach him. He moved the camera back again for a full view of your body, videoing the recoil of your ass after every thrust and the arch of your back that was unintentionally pushing your hips toward him, making you look even more desperate for it. 

Almost laughing when he got this idea, he removed his thumb and grabbed the bottle again, positioning the rim to your asshole and slowly forcing it in. You whined loudly in displeasure and tried reaching a hand back to push him away again. His hips slowed into a steady rocking motion as he fucked your ass with the bottle. Far too soon for your liking, he started moving it faster, rapidly fucking your ass until you were crying out and trying to squirm away. He let go of it to grab your hip and pull you back, and had to bite his lip to stifle a laugh at the sight of the bottle sticking out of your asshole. 

Instead of fucking you with it again, he just smacked the bottom of the bottle a few times, forcing it in deeper until the neck was completely inside. He almost wanted to push it in further, stretch you past your limit, but based on the sounds you were making, it seemed like you were already at your limit, so he held off. 

Grabbing your hip again, he started rapidly bucking into you, chasing his orgasm and enjoying the feel of the bottle pushing against his cock inside you. You were letting out quiet grunts with every rough thrust and the slapping of his hips against your ass was so loud that anyone who walked by the room would definitely know what was happening. He hoped no one would come in since this door doesn’t lock, but at the same time… he can’t even imagine the look they’d have when they saw you being fucked face down, ass up with an empty bottle of vodka in your asshole. Your reputation would probably be shot to hell depending on who saw it. 

He choked out a moan as his hips stuttered, only seconds away from falling over the edge. When his orgasm finally washed over him, he pushed in so deep that your back was bent in a way that had to have been painful, especially based on the sound you made. His hips kept bucking forward, trying to bury his cock deeper as rope after rope of his come painted your walls. He doesn’t even know if you’re on birth control or not. 

When his orgasm finally faded, he let out a heavy breath and closed his eyes for a moment, collecting himself. You whined when he pulled the bottle out of your ass, then again when he dragged his cock out and sat back on his heels. He set the bottle down and grabbed your ass cheek to spread you open, getting a close up shot of your gaping hole fluttering around nothing. 

The moment his come started to trickle out, he picked up the bottle and collected as much as he could on the rim, then nudged your hips, making you land on your side. Your lips were already parted so he just shoved the bottle in your mouth, feeding you his come. You grimaced a little at the taste, but didn’t react any other way besides that. Even when he let go of the bottle, you just stayed there with your lips wrapped loosely around it and your eyes shut, probably on the verge of unconsciousness now that he was done. 

He panned his phone down your body slowly, making sure to get his come dribbling out of your mouth around the bottle, your shirt still pushed up exposing your tits, and your skirt lifted with your panties still pulled to the side. The sight of his come still leaking out of your cunt had his cock twitching with need again, but he ignored it and pocketed his phone before fixing his clothes and walking to the door. He gave you one last look before opening it and walking out, leaving it open in case anyone wanted his sloppy seconds. 

[sinning-23]

Twice the Fun (Zoro x Reader x Sanji)

Because i need them both in a way that is concern to feminism and they could literally do whatever they wanted to me (respectfully) ahem. This ones for my sick, freak, nasty, touch-starved bitches It's really just prn with A LITTLE plot yall and a little more attention to detail.

18+ DUH?!

Warnings: Tagteam, creampie, gagging, choking, biting, scratching, p in v, unprotected, degradation, teasing, praising, spanking, double penetration (holy shit this is a lot even for me lol)

Hope yall enjoy (smut is a bit of a specialty of mine)

PART 2 HERE

Ps. PLEASE EXCUSE ANY SPELLING ERRORS!

What were you truly meant to do? Turn down the pair to try and make yourself look like less of a slut than you really were? Well, slut was kind of harsh. We'll say, more sexually inclined.

Yeah, that sounds classier.

Anyway, when Sanji and Zoro approached you in a more physical than verbal way, you couldn't decide whether or not you should say no to try and keep up an image they already saw past, or simply let them Eiffel Tower you. How the hell did you end up in this predicament in the first place???

___3 days ago___

You sigh, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you nudge the man beside you. You didn't quite care if he woke up or not, you'd just go to your other 'friends' room to fulfill your insatiable need for dick...and love and affection...but of course, Sanji didn't know that...and neither did Zoro and hell you'd like to keep it that way.

Perfectly balanced...sorta. Part of you feels bad though, you do love him...and Zoro too but damn it you just had to have them both. And with the way that two bicker and act like they can't stand each other, there was a fat chance you'd get your wish.

You nudge Sanji again, pressing soft kisses to his temple, and brushing his hair out of his face. He stirs, eyes slightly opening to reveal a set of lovely blues.

"Good morning. Pussy put you to sleep?" You tease, seeing him smile in recollection of the events of the night prior.

"Its not nice to tease." He groans, sitting up on his elbows and forearms to kiss your lips.

Its sweet, your heart stuttering with guilt. You know he loves you but this whole thing was supposed to be no strings attached. You pull away, noticing a brief hurt behind those eyes you just stared so lustfully into hours ago.

"Hurry up, youve got breakfast to make and I'm pretty sure someones getting a bit suspicious. You chuckle, pointing to the alarm clock.

He swears, shuffling a bit faster to find his briefs, dress pants, and shirt in a hurry. He doesnt forget to kis your temple before he leaves though.

"Come to my room again tonight, yeah?" He asks, and you nod. How could you not?

When you're sure he's long gone, you hide your face in your palms, groaning deeply before gazing into the mirror. Shit...he marked you up worse than before. You roll your eyes, that funny butterfly feeling filling up your stomach again. Damn him for making you love him. This wasn't the first time you'd have to cover up hickeys and it wouldn't be the last.

Your shoes echo down the hall a bit as you pass zoro's room now, curiosity getting the best of you. You crack the door open and there he is, pulling on that same old tan shirt over that damn gorgeous body.

"Good morning." You hum, slipping in and closing the door behind you.

He doesn't respond back, only nods in your direction. Zoro was more...blunt with these things. He thought he'd almost gotten perfect at hiding how he was feeling from you, but you had already clawed your way up and over the walls he put up. Essentially you could see right through him.

Before he can protest about you not knocking, you've got your arms around him in a hug, one he definitely needed seeing as he missed your touch far more than he would admit out loud. In his head, you were his girl. All his. He knew it wasn't true, this...whatever this was, being nothing more than a beneficial friendship. You weren't really his and it tore him up inside. He knows he loves you, but damn it if he admits it.

"Missed me? I see that look in your eyes Roro." You tease, knowing the nick name bothers him in th best way.

"I wish you would quit calling me that." He responds, letting his arms wrap around you to return the embrace, his chin resting atop your head. He needed you bad.

"Coming here tonight? Or do I have to drag you from your quarters to mine?" He smirks, making you laugh and bury your face in his chest. Gods he loved your laugh.

"How could I not?" You respond, swallowing a bit hard, knowing you were wrong for that.

Double booking a dick appointment was a big NO-NO. This leaves too much opportunity for one to find out about the other. But in hindsight, would that really be so bad? You wanted and loved them both, and being sneaky was starting to weigh on your conscience despite not being in an actual relationship with either of them.

"You alright?" He asks, cupping your face with his free hand. You drank up moments like these, it was truly a privilege to see the softer side of Zoro.

You nod, kissing him quick before making your leave.

The rest of the crew is already up and working on odds and ins of the ship. You managed your end of the chores, first mopping, then tying knots, and lastly laundry. You chatted with Nami, hoping a village is coming up soon but no luck.

Damn, the day had really gotten away from you. The sun was already setting and your heart sank to the pit of your goddamn stomach. It's sunset...which means night is right around the corner...

Oh fuck.

You scramble off the front deck and head straight to your quarters, skillfully dodging both Sanji and Zoro, who you had managed to have run into each other instead of you. Bad idea, because if you knew anything about Sanji, it's that he had a funny way of letting things slip rather sneakily. And if you knew anything about Zoro, its that he would easily catch a slick comment, and match it.

You lock your door, pacing back and forth in hopes of coming up with a plan. The truth? Yeah maybe tell the truth! You swallow your pride, taking a deep breath, only to head a kock at your door. Oh god. Your hands tremble, that sickly nervous feeling seeping into your pores. Its hot in here.

"Hey honey, um, how about we reschedule to tomorrow?" Sanji hums, something...off in his tone.

You pull the door open, that same facade over your face. You swallow, nodding at him in response.

"I see. I mean yeah we can. Something come up?" You ask, eyes shifting all over. You can bring yourself to keep direct contact with him and damn he can tell. You could've sworn that you saw someone turn the corner...was that Zoro. Nevermind that. Apparently, Sanji had said something to you but you hadn't heard it you were panicking so damn much.

"Uhh sure. You okay?" He questions, more smug than anything. He knows...

__2 days ago___

It was far too quiet for your liking. Sanji seemed to avoid you...and so did Zoro. Well, not really avoid you. In all honestly you were paranoid and reading into everything. You had FABULOUS intuition so when the energy was out of wack it went straight to your head.

They know. They have to. There's no way they don't. The two of them had gotten a lot bolder you noticed. It was all so clear to you. They were...competing almost. Zoro would leave his hand on your hip, and Sanji would roll his eyes. Sanji would pull your hair up into a ponytail to keep it out of your face when you were cleaning? Zoro would scoff and move on.

Okay, so they definitely knew. Now they were playing the "She likes me more game." That was the least of your concerns. If anything you were drinking up the attention. What you really wanted to know, was how they had found out about each other...the ship is small so that doesn't help the situation.

Today, you managed to find yourself in the kitchen while both your blonde and green-headed sneaky links were ALSO in the vicinity. You swallow hard, bidding them a good day whilst making your way to the fridge, which Sanji usually keeps locked up otherwise Luffy would get in it.

"Sanji, um, the key please." You ask, clearing your throat as the two seemed to watch your every move.

He smiles, stepping beside you, his hand trailing from your waist to the curve of your ass. He's grinning the whole time, his eyes cutting to Zoro before squatting down, using your leg as a means to steady himself to retrieve the well-hidden, key. His fingers dance over your thighs and inwards, just barely brushing over the crotch of your shorts. You yelp, tensing when Zoro gives a slight 'tch'

Sanji stands, plopping the piece of metal in your hand before returning to the stove from whence he came.

"Thanks." You rasp, fianlly feeling a pinh at ease before oepenign the fridge.

Too bad the peace only lasted for two seconds, becuse right when you had cracked it open, Zoro was already behind you, reaching for his desnated bottle of alcohol, his hand right at your waist, just where Sanji's had been.

Instead of squatting however, down to more or less 'politely' show ownership of you, Zoro opts to wind his hand back as far as possible.

SMACK

You yelp louder, steadying yourself agaisn the fridge as you moan at the sting. There was no doubt there was a bit of a mark again toyu melenated skin now. Zoro only grins, all too smug at Sanji's enraged expression.

"Thats it. You just have no sense of respect do you." Sanji argues, Zoro standing a bit taller now.

If you hadn't been squeezed between the two now, they'd surely be chest to chest. Your body is beginning to betray you, heat flooding your face and between your thighs. This wasn't about them. This was about you and who you liked more...They each wanted your attention. Rightfully so, I mean not only were you a sweetheart with a smart mouth but that mouth could do a lot more than just talk shit. And either one of them would be happy to accept death between your thighs.

"If you knew anythign at all, youd kne she likes a little desrespect." Zoro shoots back, your eyes widening.

"If you knew anything you'd know she likes being treated like a princess." Sanji scoffs.

"Lets not talk about me like im not here-"

You're cut off when they shoot that same look your way. A look you'd seen one to many times, bent over, facing a conveniently placed mirror...or wit your back against the matress, one of them over you while your legs cramp up from being so close to your chest.

Damn fr two guys who seemingly didn't 'get alog' they sure had a lot in common.

In the heat fo the argument, you slide pst the pair and out of the kitchen. Unfortunetly for you, a head of orage just happened to be outside and heard part of the last three statements.

"I dont even want to knw what or how you're gonna get out of this. Youll figure it out." Nami half encourages as you groan.

Is that what good pussy did to a mf? Start wars?! It blew your mind but you had less than a few seconds process to the situation. Before you could even realize what was happening, Zoro exited the kitchen and scope you up. And right behim him was a very serious, looking Sanji....

oh you’re so screwed.

——————————————

Authors note: HI YALLL ok so this one’s been sitting in the drafts for literally I wanna say a half a year now lmao uhhhhh let me know if you’d like to be tagged for pt.2 that’s where all the HOT SHIT HAPPENS! Anyway love you all! Drink water lol

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Yandere! Revenant harem w/ "queen" darling

A/N: ya'll won't leave me alone about this damn harem lol. ! jkjk I love ya'll but idek what to really add onto the harem stuff like please...I'm dying here. please eat this while I finish my requests.

requests: always open for my baby girls

Warnings: Ya'll should be famillair with the type of time I'm on

masterlist

hypothetically...let's say the original harem failed at protecting you and the revenants won and took you captive *tbh that's the only reason they came*

The revenant harem is all about teamwork, that's why they won. None of them mind sharing you and serving you is their sole purpose of living..well being undead?

You were their prize before they died and now in their afterlife, you are the only thing they can think about. They must protect their living darling from suffering their same fate. You are their queen now, they'll stop at nothing to prove that to you. Before they were playing fair, letting you choose who you wanted but they are done waiting. They are all yours to love.

Once captured by the harem, you will no longer have any life outside of them. You are not going anywhere. They hate the thought of you interacting with the outside world. Seriously, you are on lockdown. They even hate the idea of you visiting your family. They are your family.

were you a champion? Oh, well you're no longer allowed to ever fight or train again. They forbid you because they were all skilled and dedicated their lives to it but now look at them..you cannot get hurt.

Actually anything remotely dangerous is a no go.

There's never a second when you're alone, they're enamored by you. They've most likely built an entire castle for you, fit with a throne only you may be allowed to sit on. bouquets of flowers and jewels gifted at your feet. They bow in your presence and cannot wait to throw themselves at any opportunity to do something for you.

Anything..please anything you want. They'll gladly go to war for you and take over the entirety of the outworld for your ruling. Just say the words and they'd do it. You deserve to be Kahn with your ever so graciousness.

say jump and they'll say how high. If you never felt like walking again your feet won't ever have to touch that filthy ground ever again.

Don't let this fool you though, they are absolutely insane. They are still dangerous yanderes who will collectively punish you for any signs of disobedience. Don't run away, don't fight back or reject them..

Actually...do fight back. come on..they dare you. They love it when their queen plays rough. Who wouldn't want to be punched by you? They'll taunt and mock you while your weak self tries to fight them ...you're hilarious. If you are super powerful and is actually causing trouble, you will be punished by the more intense characters. Do you think you're getting past Raiden?

"A shame I had to use such intense force to subdue you. Although you are very dear to us, do not think for a second are exempt from proper discipline. Your fate will be shortly decided."

punishments range from you having some luxuries revoked to being dropped off in the living forest and left there to fend for yourself for a couple of hours.

You got the absolute worst version of every-single character...like a harem that consists of REVENANT Dark Raiden and Noob Saibot is a harem you def don't wanna mess around and find out with.

I know in the previous harem it seemed like every girl's dream..yeah no. Not this one.

Oh and they also like to control what you wear. Elaborate regal clothing is their favorite, especially with a huge headpiece. Your schedule is also controlled throughout the day. They have everything perfectly balanced to fairly share you and to take shifts protecting your castle. Occasionally though, some will get into fights with each other when one is a bit more needy and tries to hog up your time. The most sought-after time though is when you're either getting ready in the morning or settling down in the evening. To be the one to brush your hair or to help you out of your ridiculous garments is an honor.

I like to imagine that when you sleep, they all gather around your bed, admiring your beauty. none of them are allowed to sleep on your bed, They'll just huddle on the floor around it. reminds me of the quote "sleeping on your floor is better than sleeping in my bed." They all have their own rooms but rather be near you.

they're so far gone, you have to remind them every time you need to use the restroom that no. they cannot follow you in.

"Johnny, no. I need some privacy please."

*on his knees* "But my sweetheart...I just want to offer you some assistance."

"johnny- i have to pee..."

This way of life is completely normal...that's what they keep telling you at least..That their actions are innocent. Oh they just can't bear a second without you, bullcrap. So manipulative. They are still the same grimy men as before lol

Especially Kano and Erron..somehow death just made them have less of a filter.

Do you think Lui Kang, Kung Lao, Hanzo, and Kuai forced the monks and both clans into being your personal army? They're so damn corrupt.

They'll instantly kill anyone who dares to even look at you. It's only their special privilege. Their head will be gifted to you on a silver platter to show their undying devotion. Are you crying? did you not like their gift? They're sorry. Would you have preferred something more?

Speaking of you being upset, if someone in the harem causes you distress they'll be exiled after punishment...that is if they survived it.

[gam8ligant]

Isofic, a New Term for Fictionfolk

[PT: Isofic, a New Term for Fictionfolk /End PT]

I've been looking for a way to communicate my belief system for a while now, and I've landed on creating my own term.

[ID: A flag in muted colors. It has an orange stripe on top and a yellow stripe on bottom. The stripes are even and there is a blue rectangle overlayed over the center. The rectangle appears transparent. /End ID]

The contrast of the yellow and orange stripes represent the difference between fiction and reality, while the rectangle represents how fictionfolk fit inside that balance perfectly.

Derived from iso- (equal) and -fic (fiction) (basic I know), "isofic" (eye-so-fick) is a way to describe people and ideas that follow this line of thinking:

Fictionfolk* should be allowed to exist as themselves without being accused of being "anti-recovery," "promoting delusions," or "being unhealthy."

Fictionfolk should be allowed to choose for themselves how they want others to talk about them and how they talk about themselves. It should be considered a natural, or even expected occurrence for fictionfolk to dislike terms such as "kintype" and "kinning" and being reffered to in third person.

The proximity of fictionfolk to their fictionselves should be dictated only by the person. Fictional identities should be believed regardless of how "similar" they are to their fictional/past self, and the only scenario in which someone should be told they are not a character is when they themselves have said so.

This is more of a summary of the three beliefs above, but it covers a lot of bases I cannot: Fictionfolk ARE fictional characters in every sense of the word. Again, it's totally appropriate to view it differently on a personal level, but mostly we are all the people we say we are. We are ourselves the same way Mitsuki Miyawaki is Mitsuki Miyawaki.

All views of fiction by fictionfolk are valid. Examples include media being a biography of your life, jumping out of the media into the real world, ect.

This is where it gets controversial: Fictionfolk deserve to have the most important voice when it comes to discussion of ourselves. I deserve to be listened to when I say someone's headcanon about me is wrong. I am not advocating for all creativity of this manner to be stopped. For example, if someone headcanons that I don't like apples and I say "I actually do," it's totally okay to me if they go "oh cool. I'm still going to pretend you do." Where it becomes an issue is when they decide to say "that's not true because I said so."

Likewise, things like this need to be treated as potentially triggering content. I don't want the enforcement of "if you don't tag your headcanons you're EVIL" or some bullshit like that, I just believe it needs to be recognized that these things can hurt people! For example, if you already have a trigger tagging system, it should be normalized to add the "not fictionfolk safe" tag to that.

This is going to sound highly specific, but all of these principles apply to media as well. If a character is fictionfolk-coded, then they are the character they say they are within the media! Can you tell my fandom is super gross about me? Lol.

*Fictionfolk, for the purposes of this coining, refers to fictional characters regardless of origin. This is different from the actual definition of fictionfolk, which includes fictional species, places, plants, and concepts, and includes experiences such as relating to these things rather than just being them.

There are also some beliefs that are not explicitly related to fictionfolk, but still need to be touched on.

Species dysphoria is real and dangerous, and should be treated with the same level of gravity as gender dysphoria.

Referring to alterhumans improperly should be viewed similarly to how misgendering is viewed in that it needs to be acknowledged that it's deeply disrespectful and due to species dysphoria should not be taken lightly.

Alterhumans may not be systemically oppressed on the basis of being alterhuman by itself, but we are oppressed on an individual level. Additionally, some forms of alterhumanity are systemically oppressed, for example endels, clinical zoanthropes, systems, and more are often subjected to incarceration.

Following the model of queerness as a deviation from the norm rather than specifically meaning "LGBTQ+," alterhumanity is queer.

Alterhumanity should not be censored or gatekept from good faith actors. However, those considered KFF are absolutely not good faith actors.

Any attempt to water down alterhumanity is unwelcome, no matter if it's a TikTok user saying "Therians know they're human" or a Tumblr user "setting healthy limits for alterhumanity."

Everything should always be based on someone's own perception of themself as long as it doesn't hurt anyone else.

I know that's a lot, so feel free to comment if you have any questions!

[songsofadelaide]

HELLOO!!! me again teehee i was wondering if u still accepted requests or if theyre closed for now but i still wanted to share my ting!! moment but its totally up to u whether or not u’ll accept.

in part two of the cbffs hoshina x reader series, hoshina mentioned reader should write him letters if there are anything reader cant say to his face and i was wondering if we could get like a moment where that happens im thinking uhh since hoshina is pretty important member of the force maybe he gets too busy/ preoccupied/ spending too much time w work and while reader understands this it doesnt mean she doesnt feel lonely sometimes… maybe add a bit of jealousy w hoshina spending alot more time w/ okonogi or whoever/ whatever scenario if thats up to ur liking and reader just gets distant?? and decides to leave a letter to hoshinas table telling how she feels as she cant say what shes feeling to his face

idk theyve been so cute and happy i wanna ruin it EMZ!!! lowkey theres already a number of good jealous hoshina we need more of jealous reader imo. thank uuu!!!

ANON WHY?! Like why ruin a perfectly good thing LOL BUT I GET! 😂 I'm all for fluff, but maybe the reader should go apeshit sometimes. 🤭

This will be the final part of my Radiant Point series, which took on a life of its own after I received so many lovely requests for more parts of it! 💛

My apologies too that this took so long! There's balancing life in real-time. (I just quit my job and am now hunting for a new one lol! 😂)

flare — another side story to radiant point. ✧ refulgence | candor

cw: vice captain soshiro x platoon leader (f) reader, fiancee reader, childhood friends to lovers, jealous + mean reader, no use of 'yn', happy reunions.

Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro of the Third Division was perhaps the second most admired person in Tokyo. 

Not only that, but perhaps he's also the second most busy person in your division.

You learned about that the hard way one day when you found Soshiro conversing with one of the Operations trainees Konomi assigned to him during low-risk missions while on your way to the Captain's office. You just wrapped up from a mission yourself when you nearly walked in on him and the young but pretty girl. She had a neat look to her person and evidently took everything he said to heart, jotting down notes as he spoke to her about pointers you had no idea about. If you remembered correctly, too, she must be one of Konomi's best and brightest since she had no issue assigning her to the Vice Captain, of all people. 

"Well? Did you get all of that, Tateyama? It's a lot to consider, but Okonogi-chan thinks you're capable enough."

"Yes, boss! I-I mean sir!" The Operations trainee, Tateyama, eagerly nodded her assent as she closed her notepad and slipped it back into the pocket of her white coat. 

"Do you have any other questions?"

"D-Do you have a girlfriend, Vice Captain?!"

"I'm engaged to Platoon Leader Koganei," Soshiro replied with his usual cheer. "You must not know about it since we've just recently announced it."

"O-Oh, I see! One of our Platoon Leaders…" 

"She and I are childhood friends, too."

"Ah! And childhood friends, too!" The younger girl remarked with a look of complete surprise on her face. "How romantic!" 

You left them to their conversation after hearing just how harmless it was and decided to pay no thought to it afterwards. A young girl with a silly crush on your fiancé was nothing to feel threatened about. More than anything, it was rather flattering to know just how well-sought-after Soshiro was and that he still chose you out of all the people he could be with.

But then you realised the young girls around him may not be as harmless as you initially thought.

The young Operations trainees were taking a break from weapons calibrations when you overheard their conversation at the mess hall that afternoon. You didn't mean to, of course. You and Tae were there for a break yourselves, but something in the tone of their voices made you do a double-take.

"I can't believe you actually asked Vice Captain Hoshina if the rumours were true!" 

"I-I know! It's too bad that they were. That means he's off-limits," said the girl you recognised as Tateyama from the other day. "B-But that doesn't mean we can't daydream about him a little now, can we? He's just so cool!"

"Exactly! And he's got a cute side, too. Maybe if we show him just how good we are, he might cave in and even consider enterta—"

"Well, that's not a good w— O-Otome-chan?!"

Your fellow Platoon Leader was unable to stop you from marching towards their table, where you unceremoniously slammed down your favourite iced drink.

"P-Platoon Leader K—!" The girls hastily rose to their feet to meet your smiling yet furious gaze. "We—"

"You're… Tateyama, aren't you? The one assigned to the Vice Captain," you said, not even allowing them to speak. "And you are?"

"A-Akabane, ma'am," the other girl stammered.

"My, you must think so little of Vice Captain Hoshina if you think he'll consider entertaining little brats like you," you stated with a wicked grin on your face. "How… funny. I seem to recall the Vice Captain telling you that he was already engaged, Tateyama. But that doesn't bother you at all, does it?"

"I-I…"

"This isn't high school, children. We aren't in the business of stealing other women's boyfriends here. Even more so that he's engaged. We're all about saving lives and subjugating Kaiju here. If you're really as smart as Konomi-chan says you are, you'll know what's more important."

How scary, Tae thought to herself, though she couldn't blame you for reacting that way, too. Then again, these kids are way too brazen!

Captain Ashiro Mina of the Third Division, a pillar of strength and a beacon of light for the people of Tokyo, has been reduced to matchmaking duties because she's had just about enough.

Because two of her best officers were acting like idiots.

She was supportive of your relationship with Soshiro at first, but now that you were unable to coexist in the same space whenever the Vice Captain was around, she thinks it's borderline ridiculous. You couldn't even deliver reports without glaring at him wherever your eyes met! (And you admit that it's totally unprofessional on your part.) Mina is forgiving, but your situation begs the question now.

Can loving someone really fry your brain that much?

She heard about how you scolded the younger Operations trainees and even had Konomi apologising for their "brazen" behaviour, as Tae also mentioned.  

Soshiro's not-so-subtle teasing and flirting aren't helping your case, either. Everyone knew he liked throwing around little endearments, but the way he spoke to you was different— his voice hushed to a whisper and a string of endearments he'd rather not let anyone else hear—and it made sense to the rookies that you were a blubbering mess afterwards.

But they all noticed how you avoided the Vice Captain like he had the plague even though he just whispered yet another light-hearted sweet nothing to you. It was clear to them that you were annoyed, but the way your lips quivered in embarrassment gave you away and you might as well just combust on the spot.

"I'm acting like a fool…"

The final straw was when you were taking your bath late in the night. Mina realised you were purposely avoiding everyone else by volunteering to be the last one to take a bath and mop up the floors. You thought you'd be all alone by then, but you were shell-shocked by the dark silhouette that appeared behind you as you groaned to yourself. 

"C-Captain! I-It's late! Wh—"

Your Captain held her belongings in one hand while the other had a finger gun pointed at you. "You need to tell me if you're acting like a fool for a reason."

Soshiro has had just about enough of your attitude lately.

Your jealous outburst was cute when he first heard about it, but the Operations trainees wanted nothing to do with him anymore after that. And he couldn't have that happening since they had to practise analysing vitals and situations and calibrating weapons with someone. He will have to pass on the task to the Platoon Leaders, but he needed to speak with them— and you. 

You avoided him as much as you possibly could and everyone else picked up on it now because no one else spoke up whenever you two were in close proximity, as if they were waiting and anticipating for the two of you to reconcile. You didn't mention anything about leaving Tachikawa, too, since he found out earlier this week that your platoon was assigned under Ryo and Tae in the meantime.

"I gave Koganei an assignment. She's at Ariake," Mina told her Vice Captain as he inquired about your whereabouts. "She… didn't want me to tell you about it."

"Ah, I see," came Soshiro's flat response. "I apologise for draggin' the entire division in our…"

"She'll be back tomorrow. When she arrives, I'll need you two back here in my office to discuss something," she stated. "In the meantime, Hoshina, have you considered organising the files at your office?"

Letters were among the many things you and Soshiro shared, especially when you went to France to further your fencing skills. For the young man who loved to read and devoured nearly everything that had words on it, your letters to him were always a source of delight. When you were still in France, it took around 10 days for your letters to reach each other, so you always had something new to read almost every week.  

He was utterly elated when he found yet even more letters from you addressed to him, though you never sent them his way because of how candid they were. It pleased him to no end to find out that his feelings for you were reciprocated. In your letters, he could trust you to give voice to the very depths of your emotions, even more now after he told you to write to him whenever you wanted to. 

On his office desk sat a single letter in your familiar and favourite cream stationery, and it was only then he realised that his Captain's cryptic comment was meant to be a sign of sorts pointing to his most favourite means of communication with you, his most favourite person. The letter sat atop a number of document folders that had to be sorted out, but he'd figure those out later. 

"To Hoshina Soshiro-副隊長,

I suppose I'm still at headquarters by the time you find this letter. I remember you once told me that I could write to you whenever I could, whenever I wanted to, especially if there were things on my mind that I couldn't speak out loud. It's embarrassing having to write something like this, but I feel like I can be honest with you here.

It was only recently that I realised that Vice Captain Hoshina Soshiro of the Third Division is perhaps the second most admired person in Tokyo. I say second because Captain Ashiro is still at the top of the list. Imagine that— your fiancé, one of the most admired persons in the city. The whole of Japan, even, now that I think about it. 

You always claimed to be nothing special, but I can confirm with you that it wasn't true at all when I heard those little girls prattling about impressing you. They speak about you like you're some monolith meant to be worshipped… and the worst part is I completely understand them. I, too, look up at you in awe of your silent strength and skill and still hope that you will turn my way— even though I know that your gaze rested solely on me and that your heart is mine, even from long, long ago. 

Truth be told, I can't handle the way other women speak about you. And it's beyond my control. You are just so amazing like that— And have you heard the way they talk about your body??? You've been objectified so many times now, I might as well burn down the base—

I know I must have been a brat this past week, but I promise you that my antics end now. Captain Ashiro scolded me in the bathroom sometime last week and told me to sort things out with you. She even said you must hand over my remaining brain cell because I clearly wasn't thinking straight these past few days. 

I apologise for being such an insufferable person. I hope we can talk once I return from Ariake. The Captain of the First Division requested a blade master for close-quarters training, so Captain Ashiro sent me, claiming I am the second best Tachikawa can offer. You are, of course, a knife she can't afford to lose. 

She also told me to beat up Captain Narumi in her stead, so there is that.

I'll bring back some Mont Blanc from that shop at Jiyugaoka. Let's have them with coffee and tea when I get back.

I love you dearly."

Soshiro was nothing but happy to see you back at Tachikawa a day later, the box of Mont Blanc you promised him nearly dropped in the process when he welcomed you back with a hug. He didn't let go despite your struggling and urging and whimpering at how embarrassing this was. 

How could he let you go when you were holding him just as tight in the first place? 

You both had barely set down your salutes when your Captain welcomed you into her office with a simple declaration, an order you couldn't refuse. 

"I need you two to go on a vacation for me."

✦ Thank you for requesting! Nothing makes me happier than writing a request I know I can work with. 🍹 You can read more about requesting here. (Requests are closed at present. Thanks for your kind understanding!)

[thebestsetter]

Which Blue Lock character should you date based on your MBTI? + some relationship headcannons

~ A/n: this is TOTALLY based on my opinion about the characters' MBTIs. You can desagree with me and give me suggestions on how to do better in the next part! (Assuming there's gonna be a next part lol)

Isagi Yoichi

◇ I feel like Isagi's an INFJ, since he's overall a selfless and kind person (off the field of course). He's also perceptive and creative to find solutions to his problems in the field and in life, but he may also end up overanalyzing and overthinking things a lot

◇ Based on that, Isagi would be attracted to someone with a great sense of humor and who would show interest in what he has to say about something, be it football or any other topic

◇ He would also enjoy being with someone lively and ambivert/extroverted, who would encourage him to be the best version of himself and would brighten up his days

◇ So, I think ENFJ and ENFP would work PERFECTLY with Isagi, since they tend to be more extroverted and care A LOT about their partners, and show it openly (something tells me Isagi would love to be babied by his partner)

◇ He would be one of the greatest Blue Lock boyfriends imo, a real sweetheart. He would 100% take you to the best dates ever and would probably ask his mother for advice about how to act around you☝️

◇ He would die for a supportive girlfriend who would cheer loudly for him during his games, he'd feel so appreciated!

◇ 10/10 boyfriend.

Karasu Tabito

◇ Karasu's 100% a ESTJ. Don't argue w/ me, you know I'm right.

◇ He's loyal, rational, objective, practical and responsible. He's also reliable and extroverted.

◇ Even with all these qualities, Karasu can act a little hasty and not be respectful when hearing opinions contrary to his own beliefs.

◇ In a relationship, he looks for someone who is supportive and respectful, patient and understanding

◇ He's a great boyfriend and brings out the best in his partner, helping them achieve their dreams and goals

◇ So, Karasu would have a great relationship with someone who would offer a balance to his somewhat "commanding" nature through a more sensitive and adaptable personality, such as an ISFP, or someone who would also be as methodical and rational as him, like an ISTJ

◇ He would LOVE if his partner watched his football games and, in return, he would watch theirs too, no matter what sport they played

◇ If you're an artist, he loves complimenting your art pieces and says you're like a modern-time Picasso (even though some of them may look like they were drawn by a 5 year old with crayons)

◇ Overall, the best boyfriend ever (literally the loml)

Rin Itoshi

◇ Rin's a very reserved introvert, for sure, but he's also very ambitious, determined and self-confident

◇ With that said, he would be an INTJ

◇ Imo, he would need someone to balance his "cold" personality with a cheerful and outgoing personality, like ESFPs or ENFPs, or a more reserved partner that's still a little ambiverted, like an ISFP

◇ To date an INTJ, you must understand that there are times when they just want their personal space and tranquility, which also applies to Rin

◇ He would try not to be so hard on you, but sometimes the feelings would "escape" (old habits die hard Ig) and he might come out as a little harsh. Don't yell at him, he would definitely regret it quickly! His ego is just too big to admit it sometimes....

◇ Not a bad boyfriend, just needs someone patient with him!!

◇ I think his love language would be acts of service, since he's a little shy about expressing his feeling with words

◇ So, your relationship with him would be based on "little things". Like grabing something you can reach from the top of a shelf or tying your shoelaces for you

◇ Overall a very good boyfriend!!!

Pls someone tell me the easiest and quickest way to become an ISFP or ISTP 🙏😭

[saylessastrology]

Favorite Moon Placements/Signs/Aspects 🌝🌙🌛

Moon In Sagittarius:

okay, I’m biased because this is my placement but we are so liiiit! We make great friends! This placement makes the person super straightforward and optimistic! Like we give a fuck but only for a short amount of time. But don’t piss us off because our mouths are foul! We will be mad and vengeful one moment then get bored with the situation the next LoL

Moon in Aries:

This placement is bold af! They don’t hold back on their opinions or emotions. When they are emotionally triggered just let them get it out! Suppressing this placement will result in some serious repercussions! My coworker has this placement and when she has a bad day EVERYBODY KNOWS! You can see the smoke coming out of their ears lol. But they are sooo loveable and warm! They give great hugs too!

Moon in Libra:

These people are so peaceful and pleasant lol. They may have trouble deciding on what to wear or what place to eat but they are never one to make a big fuss out of things. They believe emotions should be expressed in beautiful ways. Even their arguments have a “let’s solve this” tone.

Moon in Cancer:

I truly think these people are the most fiery of the water signs! They are soft and cuddle until you trigger them. I also think they are so moody because of the many phases of the moon always changing. You’ll know when they are pissed. The way they go off is like someone’s fed-up mother who’s about to whoop your ass! Lol scary stuff

Moon in 8th house or Scorpio:

I love these placements because these people really know how to connect emotionally with their loved ones. They love and feel deeply. The way they protect their loved ones is soo cute like a mamma bear defending their cubs. They have so much emotional self-control until they can no longer suppress it.

Moon in 5th house or Leo

(biased again hehe) These people are FUN! We love a good time and tend to come alive when we are out on the town! In our opinion emotional expression should feel fun and dramatic! When we get emotional we expect your full attention or we will feel neglected and ignored! We are the type of friend to drunkenly shout “omg I like be you guys!” to our friends in a quiet public area and you BETTER say it back or we will cry lmao

Moon trine/sextile/conjunct Mars

These people are naturally impulsive but their intentions are perfectly lined up with their emotions. It’s not that they don’t think before they act, they just believe their actions are justified based on the emotions they feel. I notice many women with this placement are real “girls girls” who know how to make and balance friendships with women and men equally because their masculine and feminine energies do not throw each other off.

Moon aspecting Neptune

These people must to be protected at all times! ❤️ They are so soft and sensitive to the world around them. They can pick up on your hidden emotions and verbally translate them in mystical ways you’ve never thought of. They see things differently from everyone else. They can find the most redeeming qualities in even the worst people. They also tend to forgive and forget waay too soon.

Moon aspecting Saturn or Capricorn moon

Rather it be a hard or soft aspect these people are extremely emotionally determined individuals. They possess the emotional strength to bound back from life’s most challenging obstacles. I love how sweet and mature these people are when it comes to expressing their emotions. Even when they are in a heightened emotional state, they still have control over their reactions. This is another placement that needs a hug because they are SOOOO hard on themselves for simply being human and feeling emotional. They may have grown up with an emotionally suppressive parent or guardian that taught them that their emotions are not as important as others. BREAK FREE MOON/SATURN! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ You deserve emotional freedom too!

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! Sorry if this is a stupid question but I was wondering about representing disabilities/things in general that you don't have.

I always see people say that they want characters to be represented properly, and to show their disabilities and lives in an accurate way, but I also see people talk about how you shouldn't write about the struggles a POC/minority/person with a disability/etc. faces because you don't experience that and you're speaking over them or only using their story for "trauma porn" or whatever.

Maybe it's just because I'm autistic but I'm really not understanding how those two things coexist. How do I show how someone lives, especially with a disability that might be painful, without writing about the things they face?

Obviously it would be super weird if the character's entire personality was just "My life is awful because I'm so different, I can't do the things everyone else can, my life sucks."

But what about normal things that they struggle with? Like "Yeah I only have one arm, it's a pain in the ass to do dishes but it's not the end of the world." or "I have albinism so my depth perception is shit but whatever" or "It's fucking annoying when people stare at/judge me because I look different, but if they don't like it that's their problem, not mine lol."

Is the problem whether or not a characters ENTIRE story revolves around their disability? Using my own as an example:

A story, specifically, about how Funky Bungus, as an autistic person, lives in the world and what struggles he has due to his disability, VS a story where Funky Bungus is trying to stop two kingdoms from going to war and there's a short scene where he feels bad about not being able to make eye contract with people, before going back to the Kingdom War Drama.

I just want to use my stories as a way to educate people about disabilities and make people go "Hey, that character is like me!" or to make people think about their actions, like having a character complain about people staring at their scar/missing arm/etc. so maybe people will read it and go "Wow, I guess it IS rude when I don't mind my own business, from now on I won't stare at people."

Sorry if this got long and incomprehensible 😬

I guess the question is "How do I write about the struggles someone with a disability faces without coming across like I'm writing trauma porn or speaking over people" but I just have the Overexplain Everything So I'm Not Misunderstood Disorder™ lmao

I believe you have it right; the problem with many stories about disabilities written by non disabled authors often lies in when the story relies entirely on the disability.

It’s absolutely fine to write about the struggles a character faces — for an example with one of my disabilities, say a non-disabled author wrote about how a character kinda hates their chronic pain and wishes they didn’t have it. But otherwise there’s other stuff going on in the character’s life, like friends and family and hobbies, not just self-pity, and there’s other things going on in the plot, like maybe a mystery to solve or an Item to find or an adventure to go on or something.

That would be perfectly fine, and I’d love to read it actually, and really writing is kind of a balance of using what we know already and mixing it with things we haven’t experienced but have researched and/or thought about.

That’s how you show an authentic character with disabilities — they have struggles, things they can’t do or can’t do as well as others, but that’s not all there is to them. There’s things they enjoy doing, things they’re good at, people they spend time with and things they do.

Good intentions combined with research and knowledge (and good plots!) will make for good stories that feel authentic.

Hope this helps!

Mod Sparrow

Hi!

I think that there can be good stories that have disability/ableism as its primary focus, but they should be #OwnVoices (as in, made by people who experience said thing). That's largely because it often gets very specific and thus easy to misrepresent even if you have good intentions. Sometimes it can end up like "being disabled is so sad and everything is inaccessible, how tragic!" and end up pitying the character - rather than actually sympathizing with them - just because that nuance is missing. To use the same example as you did, "character complains about people staring at their scar sometimes" would be a completely normal way to include ableism as a part of life that does happen, while "character gets bullied for 300 pages for having a facial difference" would be in the torture porn category (when written by someone who doesn't have that experience).

I think that what Sparrow described is the best if you're not describing your own experiences. Including ableism as a thing that happens from time to time or as a tertiary focus is totally fine. That's how it is in real life - sometimes things do suck, but there's still a whole lot of other things that we do.

I think your desire to educate people is admirable and it should be very much doable with the solutions you presented! Good luck writing!

mod Sasza

[hwangyeddeongie]

top 5 ryeji fics? 👀

hello anon!

okay so this is kind of an impossible question but I'll do my best to answer 🫡

(not in any particular order)

1. there's a demon in my home (and it's here to stay) by qaisal

i wanted to put more fics by qaisal here, but I’ll keep it at one lol. all I’ll say is that there’s a reason this person has the top 3 fics in the ryeji tag! the witch school setting, the shapeshifting, the enemies to lovers….i love this fic so much

2. among the sea’s salt by ForTheFlowers

I remember this being one of the first long ryeji fic I read and I was just completely blown away by first, the amount of research put into it to make it a believable historical fiction, second, the amazing set up and characterisation, third, the perfect evolution of an enemies to lovers arc, and fourth, just the sheer quality of writing. this is definitely one of THE best ryeji fics on ao3

3. what’s in a name? by snowandwolves

I don’t have a single bad thing to say about this fic. the worldbuilding is absolutely PHENOMENAL, the writing is superb, the angst and ensuing fluff (and smut) WILL make you cry. I have it downloaded so y’all will have to pry it out of my cold, dead hands

4. indigo by khevzs

I cried more than once reading indigo and I am NOT ashamed to admit it. literally the slowest of burns and yet IT’S DONE SO WELL. parent ryeji my loves…..the perfect balance of angst and fluff is 👩‍🍳💋

5. champion of the geunhwayang by khevzs

THE ryeji fic of all time. like cmon. once again, im a sucker for historical fiction and khevzs pulled this off so well!! the setting, the cultural undertones and traditions displayed, like this fic should make the list for just the research put into it alone. would have paid a LOT more attention in school when learning about this time period if it was done in this format. also, the characterisation is just perfect. the transitions into different phases of ryeji’s relationship is so believable and done perfectly. we can only pray khevzs will come back to finish this masterpiece

HONORABLE MENTIONS

made for loving you by gazwashere — actress yeji I will always love you

when she looks at me by snowddeong — I revisit this one so much….RYU FRECKLES

the face poets always talk about by khevzs — yes khevzs is in this list 3 times what about it

unfinished business by ddeongies — choreo my beloved…HOT STUFF WITH (eventual) FLUFF + the perfect amount of friends to strangers/enemies to lovers angst, literal perfection

wheel, snipe, celly by lonewolflink — I cannot wait for link to give us more of hockey ryeji because I am OBSESSED

take a chance on us unfortunately orphaned 😭 — once again, parent ryeji….i love them

믿어 trust by haegum — not for the faint of heart! this fic is on the darker side, but the world building and quality of writing is a 10/10

love in the modern day (the modern way) by westhyo — so hot and so funny! this is just smut but it’s super well written and I love ryeji’s dynamic here and the ending always cracks me up ++we love traumatising chaeryeong in this house