#that crap irks me

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

I really wish some of the actresses who have voiced Disney Princesses would stop comparing their princess to the previous ones and claim how she was the "first" one to have *gasp* independence and strength *gasp*. Have they ever watched a Disney movie outside of their own?

[coconutdays]

when will I ever be able to share an exchange of messages with a man without knowing he’s feeling me some sorta way

[byakuyasdarling]

I’m so tired of seeing people police others’ language and assume they are (x, y, z) or mean (x, y, z) from harmless phrases and word choice. Like if it irks you, fine I get it. But if you genuinely think someone is horrible and awful or thinks something irrepressible for a cutesy word or phrase they use that ultimately means NOTHING — genuinely touch grass.

// obviously not about slurs — I mean words like ‘blorbo’ or those in a similar vein. Last time I checked, it wasn’t problematic so I’m operating under that supposition.

[hellgivenhasmoved]

k , mobile until i pass out. hmu on disc.o. i'll be around tomorrow before my therapy app in the evening.

[erb23]

I don’t understand how someone can complain that a game is too hard, but you’ve literally ignored all the dialogue and skip over parts that actually show you how to play and get better equipment/upgrades.

Jeez, its almost like a story driven game will blend in info about game mechanics to the plot and you’d know how to make things easier on yourself if you read the very simple conversations npcs had with you.

[empress-simps]

Line That Leads To You

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem! Reader AU: Soulmate AU CW: Language, Genre: Angst with a happy ending (don't worry guys) Summary: You make Sirius realize that having a soulmate isn’t all that bad— that he too, will have his happily ever after.

Note: One of my favorite tropes to write, soulmate AUs! Sirius just needs love and affirmation. I love writing for this! Enjoy! Picture is from pinterest, credits to the owner!

You know, Sirius never really believed in those pesky soulmates stuff. It irks him to no end, and makes his head hurt.

The topic makes him snappy, bitter, and it leaves him feeling angry. To whom? The world— the one who’s responsible for everything that has to do with soulmates. He thinks it is a bunch of bollocks. It’s a pathetic little concept that everyone seems to be too invested in.

Sirius would be very much happy to tell you it doesn’t really end with a happily-ever-after.

“I’m telling you, Prongs. It’s just a bunch of crap.” Sirius tells James one time at the drawing room in the Potter Manor. James shakes his head, disagreeing with his best mate.

“It isn’t always like Walburga and Orion, Pads.” James gently tells him, eyes swimming with empathy for Sirius. “Just look at me, Lily and I are together, finally.” Sirius can’t help but scoff, shaking his head in a disagreeing manner.

“That’s because you were already pathetically in love with her before you even knew she was the one, Prongs. Same thing for Lily, but she was quite stubborn trying to deny what she felt about you. You guys are actually made for each other.” James lets out a laugh, the memories resurfacing making a love-struck smile appear on his face (Sirius gave him a disgusted look)

“That’s what soulmates are, Pads. You’re supposed to complete each other, balance the other person out” He pursed his lips and sighed, there’s no way Prongs could understand his opinion on the matter.

Complete each other, huh?

Then can someone give him a reasonable excuse on why his parents broke each other? One descended into madness; the other doesn’t really seem to care as long as the noble house of Black lineage will continue.

Sirius bites his bottom lip, deep in thought as he stares at his pinky, willing the connection to be seen; a red string that was tied into a bow that leads to Merlin-knows-where. It serves as a connection; the string that he and only his soulmate can see whenever they want. He tugs on it curiously, awaiting any reaction with bated breath. He almost scrambled away when he felt the other end also tug it. Sirius was utterly terrified, a shiver crawled up to his system, it’s foreign feeling for the Black’s eldest son. It made everything feel too real. A fact that he desperately tries to deny.

That night, before they returned to Hogwarts as sixth year students was the last time he ever willed to see the annoying little string in his pinky, not caring if his supposed other half was finding him or already found him.

Maybe it had to do with his twisted upbringing. He saw how his father cut the string tying him to their mother, the purple string that bound them together turning gray and withering away.

He saw how Regulus flinched, no one should’ve seen a scene like that, but they did. Someone severing their connection to someone who should’ve been with them through better or for worse, the one that fate intended for them. Their life got worse just after that, forcing him to flee and leave his younger brother behind at the deranged hands of Walburga Black.

“You should eat more, Reggie.” You turned towards the quiet and reserved Slytherin, pushing his plate closer to him, which made him wince. “I am quite full.” You raised a brow “None sense, all you did was sip pumpkin juice so you better do as I say or I’ll tell Evan and Junior.”

“Do you know that you boss people around quite well?” He grumbles, shoving a few spoonsful of dinner in his mouth as you hummed in approval, cracking a small smile. “I was told.” Your eyes flickered to the Gryffindor table, it seemed to gravitate you, pulling you in.

Looking down at your pinky, you willed the string to be visible to you. Seeing the red string attached to Sirius Black made your stomach churn; was it butterflies? Unease? You don’t particularly know, having mixed reactions to the string that leads to your other half.

You’ve known for over a year now, keeping it to yourself as you quickly figured out that he wants nothing to do with his soulmate.

“Reggie! Reggie!”

You exclaimed, slapping the poor boy’s arm as he was currently staying in the L/n Manor. He looked in your direction, quite annoyed, he was interrupted reading his book. “I’m reading, Y/n. You know, you should too. It’ll do you some good.” He sassed, trying to find which part he stopped reading. “My soulmate! They tugged the string!” You gushed, “They must be looking for me too, right?” You asked no one in particular, you can still feel the tingles you felt, how your heartbeat picked up, and how you felt like you were in could nine.

Quite the opposite from what Sirius felt, huh?

You never told him, never planned to. It was quite clear what his views are on the concept of soulmates when you saw him snogging different girls every week. It wrecked you; you swore you felt your heart stop beating every time you see him loving a girl other than you even just for a week. It sounds stupid and all, but you would give up everything just to know what it feels like; how he will look at you with love and adoration in his eyes, how his touch and kisses would linger on your body, and how his voice would sound like as his breath fans in your ear, whispering promises of love.

You looked at him from the Slytherin table; so close yet so far.

Regulus noticed, the all too familiar broken look in your face. His heart hurts for you, even if you do not tell him, he already knows. Seeing his brother’s indifference, Regulus’s gaze hardened. How could he have the guts to do this to his soulmate?

The memory of their mother's despair, the way she withered away after their father severed the bond, was etched into his mind. Regulus does not wish for anyone to feel that way, he does not wish upon it even in his worst enemies.

It was a pain no one should endure, a lesson that should have been learned.

Yet there sat his brother, laughing with his friends and willfully ignoring the pulls of his heart. The person who held the other end of this unseen tether, was beside Regulus. Your soul ached as you watched your soulmate. It was a betrayal of the heart's deepest connection, and it stirred a tempest of fury within Regulus that he struggled to contain.

“My brother is foolish. Eat.” He states, pushing your food and placing the cornbread on his plate to yours. She cracks a smile, chuckling. “Alright, Reggie. You’re lucky I love you.” You pat his curls, proceeding to eat the bread, smiling a little. Reggie never really shares his food with anyone, except for you. You’re the only exception.

“Padfoot.” Remus starts, looking out of the window as Sirius lays down lazily in his bed, looking at nothing.

“What, Moons?”

“If I say that I have an inkling on who your soulmate is, would you… look for them?” Remus asked cautiously. Peter and James perked up, eyes wide with shock. How could Remus possibly guess who his soulmate is? Unless… They’re also in Hogwarts?

“Don’t start with that crap, Moony.” Sirius sat up; a scowl displayed in his features as his grey eyes turned stormy.

“Don’t you even feel the slightest amount of guilt in your system as you snog other girls?” Remus frowned.

Sirius’s scowl deepened, his hands clenching into fists. “Guilt? For what, Moony? For not wanting to be chained down by some ancient magic?” His voice was a low growl, barely containing the emotions that surged within him. “I won’t be dictated by fate. I make my own choices, and I refuse to be bound by a bond I never asked for.”

Remus’s expression softened, the lines of concern etching deeper into his face. “It’s not about being chained, Pads. It’s about finding someone who complements you, who understands you in ways no one else can.” He paused, his gaze steady and piercing. “You’ve seen what happens when that bond is severed. You’ve seen the pain it causes. Is that what you want for yourself? For your soulmate who’s probably hurting somewhere?”

Sirius looks down, biting his lip and playing with the rings on his fingers. “I don’t plan on severing our bond, Moons- “

“Then what the fuck are you doing?” Remus spat, Sirius flinched, looking at anything but them. He knew deep down that Remus was right. He can’t deny he also wants to look for his soulmate. The only thing that was holding him back is that he’s scared. What if your story would end similarly like how Walburga and Orion’s did? Dread fills his system as he reflects on how he slowly realized he’s becoming like his father. Peter and James exchanged a glance, the weight of the conversation settling heavily upon them.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Scared of finding her… Scared of repeating the same mistakes.” He paused, his gaze lifting to meet Remus’s. “But you’re right. I can’t keep running from this. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”

James offered a supportive smile, feeling happy for his friend. Sirius stood up, his posture straightening as if shedding the weight of his fears. “I’ll do it. I’ll find her,” he declared, his voice steady. “I owe it to both of us to at least try.”

“That’s our Padfoot.” Remus breathes a sigh of relief as Peter nods encouragingly at Sirius.

The next daylight soon came. Sirius gulps, looking around the great hall, feeling quite overwhelmed at the number of students entering for breakfast, eating, or chatting amongst themselves. For the first time in a long time, he willed the red string of fate to reappear within his vision.

Ah, there it was. The red string connected to someone from the Slytherin table. Sirius felt his heart drop, seeing the end of the string connected to your pinky. “Y/n?” The name left his lips in a hushed awe, his heart skipping a beat as he saw the string connected to your pinky. You, who laughed with such ease beside Regulus, were the missing piece.

Whether it was some brotherly instinct, Regulus looked at him, shooting him a warning stare as if to say: ‘If you hurt her, you’ll never see the light of day ever again.’

Remus raised his eyebrows in surprise, knowing eyes set on his friend. “Found her, Pads?”

“Yeah. Found her, Moony.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” James chimed in, a grin spreading across his face as Peter silently cheers him on. “Go on, before you lose your nerve.”

Sirius took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of Regulus’s protective stare. It was a silent challenge, a vow to keep your heart safe from his brother. With a nod of acknowledgment, Sirius stepped forward, crossing the small distance between the Gryffindor table and Slytherin.

“Y/n,” he said, standing before you, the red string pulsing with a life of its own.

You stilled, slowly looking in his direction. Eyes wide with surprise, searched his for a moment before softening. “I was wondering when you’d come around,” you teared up, making Sirius’ heart ache.

Sirius extended his hand, the red string wrapping around both your destinies. “Let’s talk, yeah?”

And in that moment, as your fingers intertwined, Sirius knew that whatever the future held, he had made the right choice. For in finding you, he had found a new path that began to unravel, one filled with hope and courage. The buzz of Great Hall continued, but both of them felt time still, feeling the bond weave into their souls deeper.

Sirius’s and Y/n’s story had its flaws, but it was theirs, uniquely woven by the red strings of fate.

[honeybleed]

series masterlist

content & warnings: fem!reader, modern au, college au, smut (oral f. receiving, breastplay, piv, spit balling, reiner nasty here👨🏽‍🦯)

author’s note: this is very much inspired the amazing vee and her reijean fics and headcanons! please check them out i adore her so much, she is an amazing author 💓 mdni banner credit to @/cafekitsune

word count: 4.2k

In the final few days of the semester, Jean had holed himself up in the art department's pottery studio.

He wanted to make a handcrafted gift for his mother back home, who had another recurrence of cancer and was currently living in a hospice.

Jean's mother wasn't weak-willed.

Looks can be deceiving. At first glance, the plump woman of short stature with rosy cheeks and mousy brown hair often scraped back into a ponytail appeared timid.

However, raising her son by herself didn't allow her to rely on others and she hated pity. Murmurs and tuts, sighs of sympathy sent her into a rage.

During breaks when Jean visited out of concern, she'd shoo him away.

"Ma please." Jean tutted as he watched her in the armchair. "I came all this way to see you, why can't I stay here?"

Rolling her eyes, she groaned as her eyes fixated on crocheting.

"God, I really must have one foot in the grave if you insist on imprinting yourself on me now." She scowled as she put down the crotchet hooks in her lap and met his eyes.

"Ma!" Jean sighed frustratedly, dragging his hand down his face. He took a deep breath as he screwed his eyes shut. "Don't say shit like that!"

He knew he was a spoiled child. An ungrateful kid who pushed his mother away at every turn. And he couldn't bear how it took her diagnosis for him to realise the error of his ways.

There was only so much 'you were just a kid' from her lips softly could do. It made him resent himself deeply. Plagued with constant shame and guilt about how he treated his mother.

The two had a candid conversation. It was raw and he remembered snivelling into her lap despite his six foot three frame as he gripped the hem of her dress.

She urged him not to visit and to enjoy his summer after graduation. He wasn't too sure despite her insistence.

"If I see you skulking around here, I'm not gonna even acknowledge your existence. Do you understand?" Her voice echoed in his head.

His memory dissipated away as you entered.

"Yo, Jean!" You called out as you pushed the heavy door of the pottery studio open.

"Hi pretty girl, you need me for something?" He smiled, his bright brown eyes lighting up at the sight of you.

You approached Jean and leaned over to inspect the clay on the pottery wheel as he turned his focus on moulding the wet clay in his hands.

Always flirting. But never a move was made. It irked you at first but you left it. Hell would freeze over before you pursued a man.

"Just wondering why you cooped yourself up in here all day." You responded as you folded your arms, leaning against the wall.

"Tryna make some present for my Ma." He snorted. "Since summer's coming up. Figured since all she ever wants is to receive a homemade gift. She hates store-bought crap. Maybe you can help me out."

"Oh...with what?"

"I'm trying to work the clay into the shape of a cat but I'm having trouble with the ears."

"Oh yeah, she was pretty fond of cats. What was the name of the tabby cat you guys had?" You asked as you reached out to adjust Jean’s fingers, moulding a part of the cat's ear that he was working on.

"Felix! Yeah, she was heartbroken when he passed away. I don't even have a reference photo, I'm working from memory mostly." He chuckled. "She spoiled that cat, lemme tell ya. Sure she loved him more than me."

Your first love. The unrequited love that had been chipping away at your heart for over a decade belonged to none other than Jean.

Your mind changed. You could never pinpoint the exact moment you fell for him.

Maybe it was in the summers when you sat side by side on the steaming kerb as orange ice pops dripped down the stone slabs.

Perhaps it was when your fingers frozen from the subzero conditions shook from how long you worked on the snowmen only for some older bullies in your neighbourhood to kick it down, leaving you in tears and Jean fighting (and losing).

It could've been when a popular guy in your grade asked you for homecoming and bailed last minute since it was at your expense to make everybody laugh, and Jean decided to ditch and bring you to the nearby lake where you star gazed all night.

Either way, Jean Kirstein had always been a constant in your life.

"What are your plans after graduation?" You chirped. "I was thinking we could go somewhere."

"What'd you have in mind..?" He smiled. "Cos I was just thinking of heading back home. Maybe get a part-time job n live with Ma since-"

He paused.

"You know she'd hate that." You chuckled.

"I know." He got up from the stool, heading over to wash his hands. "I'm gonna head over to the sports department."

Your face instantly soured. You knew all too well who would be there. Miss Black Belt Mikasa Ackerman.

"...Why?"

"What do you mean why...?" Jean replied.

"Jean, for god's sake. She doesn't even spare a glance at you."

"Don't you think I know that?" He said, voice shaky. "I'm well aware that Mikasa will never feel the same way about me."

Bile was scratching at your throat. God, you hate Jean Kirstein.

Hate him, hate him, hate him.

Every time he still went on about Mikasa all it did was shatter your heart. Why did you have to be stuck in the middle of this?

Why did you have to love a man who was in love with another? Mikasa had kindly let him down so many times.

That's what made it worse you suppose. The fact she paid him complete dust and he still was fawning over her.

You remember sobbing into your sister's lap, bawling like a baby when it hit you that Jean was in too deep with this infatuation.

"Don't you know it riles men up more if you flat-out reject them?" Your sister giggled as she gently smoothed the back of your head.

Love isn't transactional. You didn't expect Jean to throw himself at your feet when you did basic acts of human kindness such as accompanying him to help his mother in the hospice.

But there was always this twinge of hurt. Everything you do isn't good enough for him.

"Whatever."

"Why do you care anyway?"

You were about to turn on your heel and scream in his face but it was no use.

"You're right, I shouldn't."

Jean stared at you blankly for a few moments, his breath rising sharply.

"Do I need another reason? It's just love. I've had feelings for her since freshman year and that doesn't just go away like you switching off a light."

Jean looked down in disappointment and frustration. He felt ashamed that he was like a lovesick teen at almost twenty-two.

Clearing your throat, you figured you might as well drop the bomb.

"Well...Reiner invited me to spend the summer with him."

Jean's demeanor changed instantly and his smile dropped from his face. He paused the pottery wheel, with his lips pursed.

"Oh yeah? Is that so?"

"Mhm. He's old money rich...and I've never been to Europe before." You said nonchalantly as you shrugged.

Jean's jaw tightened. Completely irritated.

"So...are you gonna go?"

"I mean...why not? I don't have plans and I'm not really wanting to head back home."

His expression betrayed his jealousy, failing to compose himself to not seem overbearing or controlling. He was struggling to hide his resentment of Reiner.

During the fall semester, you, Reiner and Jean were in a group for an assignment that counted for a good chunk of your grade.

Jean wasn't exactly an academic genius and neither were you, but you both knew when to pick yourselves up by the bootstraps and get down to work. Organizing meet-ups to plan things out. And he bailed each and every time.

Reiner Braun as cliché as it was, was the big man on campus.

His family gave regular donations to the college meaning he could mess around and get off with barely a slap on the wrist.

Jean couldn't bear it. On the rare occasions, Reiner bothered to show up, he'd goof off and a pet name from him to you would make you forget how much he was screwing the two of you over.

Not to mention Reiner was one the few people who still bothered to call Jean "Horseface".

Eventually, Jean and you submitted the work without Reiner's contribution. Jean scolding you not to add Reiner's name.

"So...you'll be spending the entire summer with him?"

"N-no!" You stuttered. "He's just...sweet!"

Jean gave you a look of contempt. He knew full well Reiner was nicknamed 'Virgin Killer'.

"Sweet? What because he invited you to his mansion? Because he called you pretty?" Jean said, almost mockingly.

"Why do you even hate him? He was chill during that project." You said nonchalantly.

"You've got to be kidding me." Jean hissed. "He was 'chill'?! He didn't do any of the work!" Jean protested. "And then he had the nerve to sit there and gloat like he did jackshit!"

"Jean, just come. I want you with me."

"No thanks." Jean said sharply.

"Why not? It's not often you get to stay at a mansion."

"This is stupid." Jean grumbled. "How long do we gotta stay?"

"He said three months."

"Three months?! Nope. I can't. Even if you're there, he's still a dick."

"Jean, your Mom told you not to come back and you know that. So just come with me, hm?"

"She's in pain and she doesn't have much time left. I can't just stand by and refuse to visit her. My mom needs me..."

"You know if you go back, she'll give you silent treatment."

"Yeah, she will...she always does that when I upset her."

"So why don't we just spend two weeks then? Huh?"

"Two weeks doesn't sound nearly as bad. But can you promise me we won't spend the whole time with that jerkoff?"

"Can't promise you that."

Jean let out a sigh as he seemed to relent as his anger and jealousy both subsided for the moment.

"But we're not hanging out with him all the time. We're doing our own thing and he doesn't need to be involved with us at all."

"It's his house!" You said with a disbelieving laugh.

"Just because his name is on the deed of the place doesn't mean he needs to be glued to our hip the whole time. We're gonna be there for two weeks. I don't see why we can't just hang out on our own."

"That's not very nice of you." You said curtly, hands on your hips.

"Well, it wasn't 'nice of him' when he didn't contribute anything to our project." He ran his fingers through his hair after he washed his hands in the metal basin with an air of defeat to his voice. "Do you really like this guy...?" He asked, an edge to his voice.

You didn't reply but the shy look on your face told him all he needed to know.

"Just....don't fall for his bullshit. He's gonna hurt you. I’ll think about it."

"Like you haven't already hurt me enough." You muttered internally.

Little did Jean know, you had already popped your cherry. To Reiner.

After the group project, you and Reiner began to sleep with each other frequently.

You felt awful after Jean and you had submitted your work without Reiner. You wanted to add his name but Jean was adamant about it.

You were worried there would be bad blood between you and Reiner after it, but a few days after he jogged up to you as he called your name when you were leaving a lecture.

He asked you to be his study buddy but with the way he looked at you, it was clear as day he had an ulterior motive to it all.

"Really? I'm not that good of a student." You snickered.

"I don't need Einstein. Just...help me out a bit, yeah?" Reiner pleaded.

It was hard to say no to Reiner Braun. Everything about the man oozed sex appeal. The way he towered over you, the stubble and strong jawline.

You loved his fluffy blond hair the most.

"If you say so." You shrugged.

"Reiner, if you keep going on your phone there's no use of you staying here." You said as you faced him, in an agitated tone, when he finally came over to your dorm to start said study sessions.

And there was a slight twinge of jealousy when you caught a glimpse of Reiner's phone and he was sexting somebody.

He gave you a sheepish grin.

"Ah, sorry pretty baby." He switched off his phone and tossed it across the fleece duvet cover on your bed. "Look, you got my full attention now. See?"

You sighed as you could feel a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. The pet name made your cheeks heat up. You cleared your throat.

"I told you we should've gone library. People can't concentrate in their bedrooms. Let alone bed."

"Oh, c'mon." Reiner smiled as he leaned in to whisper in your ear. "Why would I wanna be there when I can have you all to myself here?"

The million-dollar smile you saw too often when his team won a big game on campus, and they all threw him up in the air, his handsome face on the flat screen.

You backed up, the books and notes falling off the bed as Reiner nudged his forehead against yours as your back hit the headboard.

"I'm sure we could get up to more interesting things than this crap." He murmured. Not kissing you just yet. Breath tickling your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

"...Reiner." You stuttered. "We shouldn't-"

"What? Do you have a man, honey? He doesn't need to know."

"No...I'm single. It's just.."

"What? Don't tell me it's Horseface." Reiner snorted. "Everybody on campus knows about that tragic Eren, Mikasa and Jean triangle."

You winced at him saying it aloud.

"I just..." You pulled a face. "I'm a virgin, Reiner. I haven't even had my first kiss."

"You've got to be kidding me." Reiner said, eyes widening.

You felt humiliation wash over you.

"I know, it makes me-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there." Reiner said firmly as he pulled away from invading your personal space. "You're telling me a girl as beautiful as you hasn't lost her v-card? Let alone her first kiss? I refuse to believe that."

"Reiner, I have no reason to lie." You said with an uneasy laugh.

"That smile..." He said in awe as he cupped your jaw. "A girl like you should never go without kisses, honey. It's a damn shame."

Thinking back, it was a bit funny.

On paper it'd be easy to brush off Reiner's praise, you had seen him exchanging dirty messages with somebody whilst he was sat beside you.

But the way those light brown eyes full of warmth gazed at you, and the way his voice softened as he said that, it had to be authentic.

Or maybe you were naive.

Either way, that was the story of what led up to Reiner killing two birds with one stone by being your first kiss and taking your virginity.

Jean Kirstein loved jumping to conclusions. He thought Reiner Braun was a big bad wolf preying on you and you wanted to laugh his face about it.

There was a multitude of reasons why you kept Reiner as a fuck buddy.

You were sleeping with Reiner to spite Jean. Spite him for making you feel so inferior to Mikasa all these years. And you went along with being nothing but a hookup to Reiner.

The aspect was thrilling. The killing blow of Jean discovering this was going to be sweet. It was malicious of you but he had hurt you, albeit unintentionally.

Reiner liked you for many reasons.

He loved the fact that if he came on a specific day, you were strict about which candle you'd use.

If he came over on a Friday evening, the room would have the aroma of lime, basil and mandarin wafting around. If it was a Saturday, it'd be cedarwood and vanilla.

Your room was always so comforting to him, his large frame amongst the plush pillows and comforters as he basked in the orange fairy lights as very soft RnB was in the background.

There'd been a few times when you'd put him on some songs or even shared your playlist.

He enjoyed the fact he had a front seat to the transition of you always dressing up in something lacy and sexy that bared your nipples when he came over to settling for regular baggy shirts.

Reiner was lounging on your bed, shirtless with his arms propped underneath his head. You approached him, settling on the edge of the mattress.

Sitting on one knee and your leg on the ground. Leaning in to peck his lips gently. You were sure friends with benefits didn't do that but sharing affection with him was natural at this point.

His hand slipped under your shirt, the pad of his thumb gently massaging circles on your hip with a smile.

"You good?"

"Yeah." You settled on as you gazed at him.

"You excited for the trip?"

"I wanna invite Jean if that's okay."

Reiner tilted his head, furrowing his brows in bewilderment.

"...Why?" He responded with an awkward laugh.

"Look, Jean can be intolerable at times-"

"Understatement."

"But underneath all of that, there's a very sweet guy. Loyal. Responsible, caring. He's going through a lot at the moment, shit he's barely processed himself."

"Sounds like you have a crush on him." Reiner remarked.

"Reiner...!"

"I'm teasing! But I know he means a lot to you. I'm always down to invite people if he's not gonna be a dick." Reiner settled on as he cracked his knuckles.

"Why do you two even hate each other?"

"Look, it's not that I don't like the guy. He's just really competitive and always trying to one-up me. Plus, we both have a thing for you and it gets awkward when we're all in one room."

"He does not have a thing for me. You know he's hung up on her."

"Yeah, yeah. All I know is during the group work if I so much as looked at you, he was jumping down my throat." Reiner said as he shook his head.

"You're sweet, Rei." You giggled as you straddled his lap.

"Honey, don't start with that "Rei" crap. You only do that when you want something." He chuckled as he turned away when you kissed along his jaw.

"Why can't I just show you how much I appreciate you?" You jutted your lower lip out as you batted your eyelashes.

His large and calloused hand settled on the nape of your neck as he pulled you close to meet your lips.

You melted into him as your lips moved in a steady rhythm, and you gasped when you felt the warm, wet muscle of his tongue slip past the seam of your lips.

Skin alight and nipples achingly hard. Reiner knew all the ways to get you turned on and begged for him fast with just a swipe of his tongue.

"You still not used to that, baby?" He chuckled darkly as he flicked his tongue against yours.

"It is a bit of a surprise." You murmured, unable to stop smiling.

"God, you're adorable." Reiner grinned.

Without warning, he flipped you onto your stomach. Getting off the mattress and pulling down his pants, you felt the wind knocked out of your chest as Reiner practically manhandled you to position you on all fours on the bed.

Never in your life had you felt this exposed when he yanked down your shorts and panties, tossing them onto the floor.

Smacking your plump ass and grinning impishly to himself at the recoil, he spread your cheeks wide, mouth salivating at your wet pussy and puckered asshole on display.

He chuckled playfully as he teased your heat with his tongue, absolutely relishing in the sweet sounds of your moans and gasps.

Continuing to worship your body with his mouth, alternating between licking and nibbling at your sensitive spots, sliding a finger inside.

"That's right, pretty baby. Let it all out for me." His hand kneading and palming at your breast, roughly as he intensified his oral assault.

"There you go..." He clambered on the mattress behind you, his cock throbbing with need as he whispered in your ear as he licked the shell of it.

He flipped you onto your back with a smug smile, ego-inflated. He grabbed his girthy shaft and began to rub his tip teasingly against your glistening folds.

You stammered his name.

His head was full with the way you gasped and writhed beneath him, your eyes pleading with him to fill you up.

"You want it?" He asked, his voice low. "Want me to fuck you until you can't walk straight?"

"Want you s'bad, Rei." You mewled.

"Take all of me. Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my cock."

You winced at how harshly Reiner's fingers gripped onto your hips as he slammed into you almost ruthlessly.

Your fists bunched up the sheets as you felt his cock glide against your gummy walls, every vein and the way he slide into you had your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

He kissed you deeply as you came, pulling out at the last moment so that he could coat your stomach with the sticky warm threads.

He leaned over you and, scooped up the hot cum from your stomach with his tongue, licking it up slowly and sensually.

When he gathered enough of it, he hovered over your lips and spat the cum into your mouth, watching as you swallowed it down.

"You're such a dirty girl," He said with a grin. "Wonder how our little Jean boy would react if he knew his best friend was a total slut, mhm?"

"Don't wanna talk about him right now." You muttered eyes half lidded from how spent you were as your felt your lips swollen and savored the taste of Reiner's cum.

"That's it. Keep your eyes on me, yeah?" He smiled as he gripped your chin, his thumb pressing underneath your tongue. It was slightly discomforting but thrilling all the same.

"Wanna keep you all to myself." He murmured as he released his grip and placed a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

You hated it when he said things like this. It was only the heat of the moment. He has a whole roster of women waiting for him for the rest of the week.

Instead of speaking, you simply slid your hand into his and squeezed it.

"Can't wait to fuck you in every room." He chuckled darkly as he pulled you up against him, kissing your neck.

Your eyebrows furrowed when Reiner left the next morning. He was an early bird and preferred to be out before the dean caused a ruckus.

Why was Jean's mother calling you?

"Hi darling." She cooed. "I hope I didn't wake you too early. I know Jeanie is probably fast asleep."

"Nah, it's fine. I was up anyways. How are you?" You responded as you fished for the discarded clothes across your bedroom's carpet.

"Nothing to complain." She snickered. "Jean's been pestering me about coming here."

"I told him to drop it."

"I know that boy is stubborn. He dropped something about you inviting him to stay at some college friend's mansion?"

"He did? He seemed like he didn't wanna go at all."

"Oh, he doesn't. It was just because I asked about you." She said plainly.

"You and Jean would make a lovely couple."

This was a sentence that popped up every single time you came to Jean's mother's home or even called. She even said it in the presence of the both of you, resulting in Jean to stutter and grow crimson red.

"I just worry about him. It makes me sound selfish, but I wanted to have grandchildren before I go." She sighed. "But time is a luxury for me."

"I get it. But...Jean is Jean. He has eyes for another."

Jean being a father at twenty two would've been hilarious.

"That's a pity. Well, just do me a favor and try to persuade him to go to your little friend's house."

"I'll-"

“Now who was it?” You groaned internally, yanking the door open.

You gave Jean a one over as he loomed over you.

"You can tell him yourself." You said wryly as you shoved your phone into Jean's hand.

"Ma, stop calling Y/N every time you can't reach me!" He groaned as he followed in after you.

After him squabbling with his mom, he hung up and turned to face you with a scowl.

"Why was Reiner leaving here?" He asked.

You shrugged.

"He's probably seeing somebody in these dorms." You lied through your teeth. "What brings you here?"

"I'll come with you."

"How long?"

"Two weeks."

"Alright. Deal." You smiled as you pinched his cheek. "Don't do your energy vampire crap."

"Shut up." He snapped.

author’s note: first chapter out YAYAYA 🌚 lawl the ride is gonna be wild so strap in. all of em are a mess but we move ANYWAYSSS TY FOR READING IF U GOT THIS FAR LOL REBLOGS N COMMENTS ALWAYS APPRECIATED 😁

[esoteric-oracle]

On Life debts in MDZS

Recently finished watching Anle Zhuan, and holy crap, it really just sets even more into perspective how important life debts were in Chinese culture, especially in the days of dynasties. Long story short, the FL has a filial obligation to clear her family's name and exact vengeance on the ML's family - but you know what throws a wrench in her plans? The fact that the ML keeps saving her. Of course, this is a moral dilemma more easily offset by how she keeps saving him as well, but the fact that this is even worth mentioning and considered a serious quandary by the main character and her allies at one point really says something. And it got me thinking deeper about the implications of such life debts in MDZS.

In MDZS, life debts are immeasurably important. And how you honour that life debt is a measure of your character. When you owe someone a life debt, you owe them something immeasurably precious. In MDZS, MXTX knows that and shows it. She uses life debts to tie characters together and to drive the plot.

Life debts are the reason Wei Wuxian feels so duty-bound to the Jiang Sect and the Jiang family. They're the reason he's willing to lose an arm if it means no damage comes to his sect. They're the reason he tolerates being punished with methods beyond what's ever acceptable for a Head Disciple of a Sect. Because Jiang Fengmian saved him from living a life on the streets all those years ago, never mind that JFM himself owed Wei Wuxian's mother a life debt.

Life debts are the reason Wen Zhuliu is so blindly loyal to Wen Ruohan, committing countless atrocities in the name of the man who saved his life.

Life debts (and perhaps also genuine love), are why Jin Guangyao is so loyal to Lan Xichen. Because despite every other moral he eschews in his pursuit of power, he will always remember the sincere kindness Lan Xichen showed him when every other cultivator judged him for his heritage. And in the same way, we see Lan Xichen protecting him from Nie Mingjue under the excuse that Lan Xichen owes his life to Jin Guangyao.

Now let's talk about when life debts come into conflict with "filial duty".

It always irks me when people bring up family and filial duty to criticize WWX's "betrayal" of his sect, or try to undermine his judgement and actions when he protected the Wen Remnants. To me, it just shows a fundamental misunderstanding of the novel and the context around the text. When people call Wei Wuxian a "troublemaker" for leaving the Jiang Sect, they're falling prey to the very prejudices and classism MXTX condemned in the novel. Yes, the Wens burned down Lotus Pier. Yes, the remaining Jiang Sect would've had an obligation to go to war and exterminate the Wens. But you know what brings this duty to avenge your sect to question - in almost every way you look at it? When someone who never even participated in the bloodshed saves your life.

So, if we want to talk about filial duty and reciprocation - Jiang Cheng - and by extension, his sect, owes Wen Qing and Wen Ning a massive life debt (and that's not even considering the GC transfer). Even if we ignore the cultural context regarding debts, that's huge. Let's take a step back and look at what Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng owe the Wens.

The initial life debt. Wen Ning saves Jiang Cheng directly from probable execution (like his parents), as well as hides Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng from the Wen soldiers in his own room. In doing this, Wen Ning has already crossed the line of treason towards his own sect. Keep in mind - Wen Ruohan is his uncle. And here he is, risking his life to save two boys - only one of whom he's actually had any meaningful interaction with.

The days after. Both Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are heavily wounded, the former from his whipping via Zidian + wounds sustained during the battle, the latter from Wen Chao's torture. In the days following, Wen Qing nurses both Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian - enemies of her clan - back to health.

The debt Jiang Cheng owes further. People need a proper send-off in order to ensure their passage to Diyu, or the Underworld - and that could only be done for JFM and YZY because WN risked his life even further to bring back the personal items (and in some adaptations, their bodies) of Jiang Cheng's parents. In simple terms, Jiang Cheng wouldn't even have Zidian if not for Wen Ning.

The golden core transfer. There are two separate components to this. The first is limited - from Jiang Cheng's perspective.

Here's what JC knows: 1. He has no core, but there is a chance he can have his core restored by Baoshan Sanren. 2. The only way Baoshan Sanren would ever agree to this is if he impersonated Wei Wuxian, the son of her beloved disciple. 3. Jiang Cheng is a sect heir; he grew up wealthy, in relative comfort. He's at the top of the food chain. Wei Wuxian, on the other hand, is an orphan. He grew up being demeaned for his heritage. In truth, he inherited nothing from his parents. But what Jiang Cheng knows is that Wei Wuxian did have an inheritance: one precious thing, the location of an immortal. And then he gives that favour-his entire inheritance-to Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian, at this moment, essentially hands over everything he has left of his dead parents (who Madam Yu has slandered for his entire life) to Jiang Cheng.

From Wei Wuxian's perspective, the debt is this: his close friend and heir to the Jiang Clan has no core. He believes that Jiang Cheng needs his core - as he's been displaying suicidal tendencies after losing his. However, Wen Qing has a theoretical thesis on golden core transfers. This surgery has a 50% chance of success. To the knowledge of everyone involved, Jiang Cheng consented to getting his core back by whatever means necessary. He explicitly never questioned how Baoshan Sanren would restore his golden core. Anonymous organ donors are known to be a thing, even by modern medical standards. And WWX stays awake for two nights and a day without any anesthesia as Wen Qing cuts into his body and takes something he has spent over half of his lifetime cultivating, to give to Jiang Cheng.

"He had to be awake. He had to watch the golden core connected to his spiritual pathways be peeled from his body. He had to feel the gradual suppression, sedation, settlement of his originally surging spiritual powers, all until they became a pool of dead water, unable to rise ever again."

There's definitely also a case to make about Jiang Cheng essentially sacrificing himself to lead the guards away from Wei Wuxian, but you could also argue that Wei Wuxian saved his life just a chapter earlier by dragging him away from Lotus Pier when he returned. Also, it's got nothing to do with the Wen Sibs, towards whom they both owe debts.

By this time, Wen Qing and Wen Ning have already gone above and beyond to help the Jiangs and WWX. Saving the life of the sect heir is one thing, but to perform a never-before-done borderline heretical act of surgery to restore the heir's golden core? Another thing entirely.

The moral obligation of the Jiangs and Wei Wuxian to avenge their sect by killing the Wens does come into conflict with the debts they owe the Wen siblings. But compared to slaughtering Wen Chao, and the Wen soldiers during the Sun, how far does honouring filial duty by exacting vengeance on the Wen Sect go? Wen Qing herself declares she and her brother separate from Wen Ruohan. They're healers. They don't take lives.

From every depiction in Chinese media and culture, life debts are not to be taken lightly. A life debt is meant to be honoured and repaid. It's not something any half-decent person would mention maybe briefly in a Discussion Conference and then immediately shut up about and never mention again when someone louder (*cough*NMJ) speaks up. By turning his back on Wen Qing and Wen Ning, Jiang Cheng had demonstrated a significant moral failure as well as a misunderstanding of his own sect's motto. Along with his personal reasons, Wei Wuxian has every reason to protect the Wen Remnants.

So why, people ask, is Wei Wuxian so hellbent on protecting Wen Ning, Wen Qing, and the rest of the Wen Remnants? The easiest answer: he's a good person. He's compassionate, kind-hearted, empathetic to a fault; he isn't the type of person to stand by and watch if innocents and the helpless starve or suffer. He saw and recognized that what the Jins were doing to the prisoners of war was wrong, and chose to interfere. The other answer? He owes them a debt. He owes Wen Qing and Wen Ning a debt the rest of the Jiangs don't even know about. You want to discuss it in simple terms? Wen Ning is the only reason the Jiang Sect still stands. Wen Qing is the only reason the Jiang Sect has a cultivator for a leader by the end of MDZS. She committed the equivalence of cultivation heresy to save Jiang Cheng because Wei Wuxian begged her. WWX defending her family in return is…. Really the least he could do.

I've seen people calling the Wen Remnants war criminals, even equating them to the mafia, and I can't help but think - what book were those people even reading? if you're not willing to consider the culture and values or just use basic critical thinking when consuming a piece of media - don't try to slander the actions of its characters. Anyone who read the novel and understood the intended themes would not, in good faith, condemn Wei Wuxian's decision to protect the Wen Remnants.

[intheticklecloset]

The Couch (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Primary Universe

Summary: Chuuya finds himself becoming increasingly obsessed with Dazai's laugh. Thankfully, the night after a rough mission gives him an excuse to hear it again.

A/N: Traveling back in time again for this one! This takes place after The Fedora, when these two idiots are still teenagers working for the Port Mafia. Enjoy!

Word Count: 1430

~~~

Osamu Dazai had a beautiful laugh. Chuuya hated that he loved it so much.

Hearing Dazai laugh for any reason always meant the man was either in a good mood (which made Chuuya wary on a good day) or mocking the redhead for something he’d done that wasn’t as smart a move as he’d make, because the annoying truth was that Dazai was also brilliant, and it irked Chuuya to no end to know and begrudgingly accept as much. The worst part was that even tickling – something that would be torture to so many others, was torture to Chuuya himself – didn’t faze the man. He loved it, the weirdo, in all of its uncontrollable and genuine glory.

So really, if Chuuya wanted to hear him laugh, he would always have to accept that it put him beneath Dazai in that moment, but sometimes…sometimes he just couldn’t help himself.

Like today, when the brunette had decided to crash on Chuuya’s couch for the night after an intense mission that, admittedly, left him too weak and tired to attempt to get home until the morning. To be fair, the redhead had been the one to offer, but now that Dazai was here and making himself comfortable, he wished he’d just made the jerk take the walk of shame back to his own apartment. Or even better – to a mental hospital, because seriously, who threw themselves into the line of fire like that when it was just as fast and way safer to find another way around it?

Chuuya tossed a blanket onto Dazai’s face and grumbled, “You good, then? I don’t have to babysit you or any crap like that, right?”

“Chuuya’s so mean to me,” Dazai whined, pulling the blanket down to reveal his smiling face. “I’ll manage. Go on and get your beauty sleep. You need it.”

“You’re not going to bleed all over my couch, are you?”

“I’ll try to show some restraint.”

Chuuya grunted as he shrugged off his jacket and hung it up on the hook by the door, along with his hat.

How Dazai got across the room so fast when he was so injured was beyond him, but the next thing he knew his hair tie was being yanked roughly from his head, causing his long red locks to fall in messy strands around his face.

“Yoink!” the brunette giggled, clearly in a playful mood, and that was it. That was all it took to trigger Chuuya’s sudden, intense desire to hear him laugh. Why, he couldn’t begin to explain. The man had been stupid and reckless and was one bad coughing fit away from reopening a half a dozen wounds all over his body, but still…

“Hey!” Chuuya snapped, whirling around only to find Dazai right where he’d left him, looking as though he hadn’t moved a muscle in the few seconds his back had been turned. “Idiot – don’t push yourself! You’ll make it worse. Of course that’s probably what you want, you freak.”

Dazai hummed innocently, stretching out on the couch and pulling the blanket up under his chin. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chuuya strode back over to him, hands on his hips, glaring daggers at the man for a few long seconds – just long enough for a flicker of confusion to pass through Dazai’s gaze. Then he attacked, gloved fingers finding his ribs through the plush blanket, and there it was – that gorgeous smile, that beautiful laugh. Dazai’s whole body spasmed and he dissolved into giggles, squirming in place, not really trying to get away at all. “Chuuya wahahahants to plahahahay, does he?”

“You started it,” the redhead retorted, scoffing halfheartedly at his irritating colleague’s feeble attempts to lessen the sensations. “Still this ticklish through a blanket, eh? And you’re not even trying to stop me. Typical.”

Dazai whined and, as if spurred by the taunt, finally started trying to remove himself from the line of tickly fingers, shimmying further and further up so his back was on the arm of the couch.

“No,” Chuuya growled, activating his ability to keep Dazai right where he was, determined to stay here as long as it took for him to hear that laugh – that light, carefree, beautiful laugh.

Dazai’s eyes widened in surprise, but the fact that he didn’t use his own ability to cancel out Chuuya’s was proof enough that he loved this spontaneous little attack, and he let himself giggle more freely, unable to even squirm away some of the sensation now that he was being pinned by the sheer force of gravity.

“You’re a moron, you know?” Chuuya grumbled, yanking the blanket away, reaching for the brunette’s hips, satisfied when the man let out a brief shriek and began laughing softly, still unable to move a muscle. “Throwing yourself into the path of a bunch of bullets like that. I’ve seen you do stupid shit, but come on, Dazai. You could have been really hurt today.”

“Aww, you d-do cahahahahahare about mehehehehe!”

“Still smug, huh? Fine.” The redhead grabbed Dazai’s arms and shoved them above his head, the force of his ability keeping them trapped there.

“Ah! No! No, wait!”

“Wait, nothing. Maybe this will finally get you to see reason, you suicidal freak.”

Dazai would have thrown his head back and bucked his hips and started kicking, but Chuuya’s ability still had a hold of him and he couldn’t quite bring himself to break free of it, so instead he burst into loud, cascading laughter without moving a muscle, forced to take it, forced to look at the knowing smirk on his colleague’s face. Unbidden, a blush flooded his cheeks.

“What’s the matter, Dazai? Too ticklish for your own good? How’s it feel to be stuck here, huh? Oh, sure…you could get out of this if you wanted to. But you don’t.” Chuuya leaned down so they were practically nose to nose, drinking in the other man’s laughter like it was wine, letting the sound wash over him and fill him up, fueling him for the next time he’d have to deal with the brunette’s crap. In a low voice, he teased, “You don’t want me to stop, do you, Dazai? You want me to tickle you until you just can’t stand it anymore. I was worried about you bleeding all over my couch, but you know, I’m less concerned about that now that I see how desperate you look. It’s so worth it to watch you crumble like this.”

“CHUHUHUHUHUHUUYA!!” Dazai screeched, blushing even harder, wishing he could squirm but still unwilling to break out of the smaller man’s hold on him. “DON’T SAHAHAHAHAHAY THAT!!”

“Why? Can’t handle some teasing?” Chuuya smirked, finding that spot at the center of his underarms and drilling into it with meticulous purpose, enjoying the keening, hysterical scream that ripped out of the man’s throat. “Not so loud, Dazai, or the neighbors will hear. You don’t want everyone on the block to know you’re this ticklish, do you? Don’t make me gag you. I’ll do it, you know.”

Dazai laughed loud and hard for several long seconds before breaking down into silent, wheezing giggles. He tried pleading, but when his voice wouldn’t cooperate with him he finally canceled Chuuya’s ability and curled up defensively, practically rolling off the side of the couch as he begged, “Stohohohohop, Chuuya! Plehehehehease!”

Satisfied that he’d not only gotten to hear that gorgeous laugh but also made his infuriating colleague submit and beg for him, the redhead removed his hands from Dazai and reached for the blanket he’d discarded, throwing it over his face again, unwilling to see that adorable pink blush and think about what it meant that his heart sped up at the sight of it.

“There. You got what you wanted. Now go to sleep and try not to die overnight. I don’t want to have to explain to Mori that you bled out because you were laughing so hard you opened up your wounds again.”

Dazai giggled from beneath the blanket, pulling it down so his face was visible once more. Before he could walk away, the brunette sang, “Chuuya~”

“What?”

Dazai held up the hair tie he’d stolen. The redhead blinked. He’d forgotten all about that. “You look good with your hair down.”

“What—? Shut up! Go to sleep, you moron!”

Chuuya slammed his bedroom door in a flustered huff, Dazai’s laughter managing to slip through the cracks and invade his space even as he flopped into bed and tried not to think about how much he loved that laugh.

[kaynothanks]

Sucker-Punch | S.R.

Ask: 9 but with steve rogers x reader and the reader hates them because of their righteousness and they r a reformed agent/villain of some kind like natasha but super mischievous (loki level) which irks steve but they can’t deny their attraction for each other or something

Warnings: BLOOD, ruthless assassin!reader, killing, GORE be aware, smut, minors DNI!

Word-Count: 6k

Steve was going to kill you, or worse; he was going to sit you down (again) and hold his speech filled with morals and patriotic mightiness. That man certainly had seventy years of pent-up moral crap to spread into the world.

Hell, sometimes you felt like the Wicked Witch of the West, with Steve’s righteous words the water ready to melt your being and bring you to your end.

Still, you took the risk as you switched off the transmitter in your ear and the tracking device on your arm, which each team member wore in case the transmitter got damaged or one got too heavily injured to call for help themselves. With certain steps, you entered the unsecured base that Steve had ordered all of you not to – under any circumstances – get close to without backup.

A loud crash sounded. The lights shut off and you halted; listening closely and silently. It was only a moment later that some generators powered up and the whole base was illuminated by red flickering lights.

Fun.

You pulled two knives from the holsters on your hips, carefully setting one foot in front of the other. On high alert, you pressed your back against the wall and peered over the edge. Barely a blink of an eye later, a blade went sailing past your head. You pulled back; shock pushing the air from your lungs. Flicking the knives between your fingers, a grin snuck onto your lips.

This, though, was going to be fun.

Within a second you were moving, keeping a swift pace as the two males before you pulled out their guns. You flung one of the knives. It found its mark straight through the male’s palm. A wail of pain flew from his mouth as you evaded the line of bullets flying towards you. Throwing out your leg, you kicked the gun from the shooter’s hand. A few precise strikes later, both men were unconscious and bleeding on the floor as you pulled your knives from their bodies and wiped the crimson liquid off on their clothes.

From the gadget bracelet on your wrist – which Tony had designed for both Natasha and you a while back – shot two ropes made of finely treated metal that anchored in the thick bullet-proof vests the males wore. You detached the ropes from the bracelet and brought them over your shoulder, making it easier for you to pull them along after you.

About fifteen minutes later, you had a row of unconscious men seated in front of you and the heavy metal door to the room you were in locked to keep out any intruders. Their leader you had placed in the middle for good measure.

While waiting for them to wake, you double-checked their bind until the first groans echoed through the isolated room. You walked back around to their front, so they were able to face you as you leaned your back against the wall and took out one of your knives. It wasn’t long before all of them were blinking at you in confusion, their eyes shifting to the glinting blade dancing between your fingers.

"Good morning, boys," you greeted with a smile after you were certain they were back in their right state of mind. "That was fun, wasn’t it? And you got a good nap out of it, too." Cocking your head, you pushed yourself off the wall deadly silent on your feet – just like you had been trained. "The lot of you are probably wondering why you're here and not, well, dead," you smiled. "I want to play a little game with you that I made up. It's called you tell me what I want to know and keep your fingers. Sounds fun? Great."

"You're an Avenger," one of them gasped. "You can’t do that."

"Oh, honey, haven’t you heard?" You questioned and stalked along the lined-up males towards the young lad who had spoken up. "I'm a Viper." You leaned down. "And I do a thing called what I want."

His breathing picked up, you noticed, causing a smile to slip back onto your face. Aloud you counted from man to man to the tune of eeny, meeny, miney, moe until the rhyme ended and you stopped in front of one of them. The man you halted across from didn’t waver at your presence, didn’t flinch or blink, or even moved to acknowledge you.

"Now, I wanna know, where is—" A patch of spit landed on your face. Clenching your jaw, you wiped the wetness from your cheek as the man before you laughed deeply. "And to think I was trying so hard to be nice," you sneered, flicked your knife, and hit. His laughing cut off abruptly, eyes widening. He sputtered as blood poured from his mouth and splattered from the cut across his throat. After a moment he fell silent and his head rolled to the side. Dead. You wiped the blade clean on his shirt.

You tsked. "Now, that wasn’t fun, was it? At least for you." With your clothed arm, you cleaned away the droplets of red on your face. Again, you chanted down the children's rhyme, coming to stand before the one that had called you out on being an Avenger. "First question," you spoke and bent down to catch his eyes. "Where are the artifacts?"

The young male stumbled over his words until he felt the tip of your blade pressing into his jugular vein. "It's only one!" The words burst out of him. "The… The first case we… we never had. I—please, don’t kill me."

"That's a good boy," you stated and petted his cheek, letting go of him as you turned to the others. "Now, the case you guys do have, is it long enough to hold, say, a sword?" You pulled out a sharpie from your belt and made a cross on the man's forehead who had given you some answers.

"No," another one growled with irritation as you eyed him expectantly. "It's in a wooden cube one story below."

"Awesome," you gave back and went forward to draw a mark on his forehead, too. "I'm not going to lie, boys, I'm a bit disappointed you don't have the blade I wanted. The rumors I heard about it for sure made it sound interesting." You clapped your hands together loudly. "Next question." Your gaze fell from man to man. "I'm guessing you all have heard of a man named Dreykov." All of them went utterly still. Taking notice of their sudden change in demeanor, you were on the move again. "The man you were trafficking innocent children for. Ring a bell? Well, as you might have noticed, he's dead. But you know who isn't dead? His partner, or boss, or whatever."

Some of them glanced around uncertainly. One of them shifted in his seat. "He didn’t have—"

Before the black-haired man had finished his sentence one of your knives was prodding from his forehead. "See that? He was being a bad boy. Bad boys don’t get an X, they get a knife. Got it? Let's try this again. What's his name?" No one answered. You sighed in disappointment. "And I thought we were making progress."

At that moment every sense of remorse or hesitancy left in your body seemed to vanish. Minute after minute another one of them lost the beating of their heart and before you knew it, only their leader and the two males you had marked were left alive.

As you saw how the two men with marks on their foreheads looked at you, you gave them a sharp glare. "Don’t look at me like that," you scoffed. "It's not like you lot are kindergarten teachers. You are mass murderers, terrorists, and child traffickers. If you wanted to live to eighty, you should have paid more attention on career day." Bringing your attention to the leader of the group, you chose to ignore the other two, which now were completely useless to you – you had chosen to believe them when they assured you that they knew nothing.

"What's his name?" You addressed the eldest of them for the first time. "Where is he hiding? And while you're at it, you can tell me all the other shit I should know about him." When he didn’t answer, you chuckled. "Stepan—that is your name, isn't it?" Judging by the look on his face, he hadn’t expected to hear it fall from your lips. "Stepan Kuznetsov, born in 1964 just a few miles out of Novosibirsk. Two younger brothers. Parents deceased. No wife. No children… that we both know of." You winked. "Your younger brothers don’t seem to be involved in any shady business. How about we keep it that way, huh?"

His face scrunched up in anger. You could see dozens of curses running through his mind that he longed to throw in your face. "Ivan Yugov," he finally muttered.

The name started playing over and over in your head until you could physically feel each and every syllable on your tongue. You swallowed. "Go on. You know what I want to hear."

"Ты чертова сука. Почему бы тебе не сделать то, что женщины у��еют лучше всего, и не лечь, как чертова шлюха, и не отсосать мой член," he spat at you.

You blinked at him before a loud laugh escaped your throat. "Not what I wanted to hear!" You exclaimed and in flash were towering over him with your knife poking at his chest. "Call me that again, and you'll find my blade somewhere very uncomfortable."

His teeth were on display as he growled in your face. "Bitch."

"I was planning on letting you live to rot away in a cell somewhere, Stepan," you assured. "But after that shit you just pulled, letting you breathe doesn’t seem so pleasant anymore." Just as you pulled back your arm, ready to plunge your knife where you thought it belonged, a loud bang came from the door. Your head rolled forward as a string of curses left your lips. The heavy metal door hit the wall and you straightened, turning to face the wrath of Mr. Liberty himself. Steve stood broad-shouldered, a glint in his eyes that let you know you were in for it in ways you had never been before.

Feeling as though nothing mattered anymore anyway, you flashed Steve a grin and threw your knife behind you. With a straining grunt Stepan, too, found his last breath. You threw a look over your shoulder at the two men still alive. "Boys," you spoke one last time and stalked toward the burly – vicious - male in the doorway. Steve was quite obviously rendered speechless by the gory scene in front of him. "Captain." Saluting him, you made to push past him, but he caught your wrist before you could lower it. Your orbs took in his hand around your arm and snapped to his with a venomous warning. Pushing down the anger, you gave him a smirk instead. "Oh, don’t worry, Cap, the blood isn't mine."

"I'm done," he stated. "I don’t care what Fury said. I won't risk another murder scene just because you couldn’t control yourself."

"Are you going to prance around now with all of your values and morals and tell me that killing them was wrong? That they didn’t deserve it?" You sneered. "For all I care, I just saved the government some money."

"There are protocols to follow. Just because you are angry doesn’t mean you can go around killing whomever you want."

"I'm going to kill whoever stands in my way of getting to him. People like them—people like him ruined me. I just plan on returning the favor." You ripped yourself free from Steve.

"Who's going to just let you go on a killing spree?"

"Who's gonna stop me?" You shot back, eyes boring into his blue ones. You stared at him for a moment, waiting to see if he was going to argue any more. Though when he said nothing else, you descended down the corridor and turned on the transmitter in your ear. "Nat, you there?"

"Where the hell have you been? We thought they had gotten you."

"Ouch," you replied. "You really thought they would be good enough to take me out? That hurts, Nat, really does."

"Glad to hear you're okay."

"You'll be even gladder to hear that the artifact is right below where I'm standing. I'm going to send you the location and head back to the jet. I don't think I'm welcome out on the field anymore."

Natasha hesitated. "What did you do?"

"I got his name, Nat," you breathed, feeling as though one of the stones you had carried in your chest broke loose. Ever since you had been sent out to kill her after she didn’t return from a mission, Natasha had played a big part in changing your life. If it wasn’t for her and Clint – whose arrow had sneakily come from behind and knocked you out cold – you would still only be a pawn in the Viper Program.

For once, it wasn’t Dreykov that had thought it up, but his partner, which he had revealed before dying at the hands of Yelena Belova. Where the children unfit for the Red Room had been brought. Instead of the big mass of children chosen to become Black Widows, the Vipers were a mere group of a dozen girls too uncontrollable, too vicious for the fine training of the Red Room. The training of the Viper Program had proceeded in the Black Pit, where there were little to no rules except exceeding. And in the end, there had been no more than five girls left alive to graduate.

After you had been sent out to terminate Natasha – she was the first ever person to beat you in a fight – you had ended up being bound the same way those men back there had. She had asked you so many questions, which you had continuously ignored until you had managed to silently free yourself from the robe. You had waited for her to turn her back before dashing out of the room with impressive speed (with Natasha having taken all of your weapons away, your chance of completing your mission had shrunk tremendously). You had been searching for the least noticeable way out of the place she had brought you, which only ended with you running into Steve Rogers, who had been alerted by Natasha just like all the other present Avengers in the Avengers Compound. You had known the place inside and out, having studied its blueprints until you held the knowledge of every single possible exit. Only a certain artificial intelligence was aware of those exits, too, and had sealed them shut before you even had the chance of getting close.

A month you had been forced to spend underground being questioned each day until you received the information that someone else had been sent after Natasha and you, too. The program had given up on you just like that. You knew what they were like and still, you believed you meant more to them after having grown up there.

All of the four remaining Vipers had come for you, and all of them died trying to kill one of their own – being too blindsided themselves to see the truth which Natasha had taken a whole month to press into your head. Natasha was able to understand you in ways you found that no one else could. She knew when you simply needed space or someone to just hover over you without talking.

You strolled up the loading ramp of the new, modernized Quinjet that Tony had hammered out with the council members of SHIELD after Bruce Banner had vanished with the last working one. Huffing at the stickiness on your skin, you unzipped the tight dark green vest (which Stark ensured to be fire- and bulletproof) covering your torso and dropped it beside one the chairs.

By the lord, you were in desperate need of an immediate shower.

"Damage Control is on the way I heard," Natasha announced as she jogged up the ramp, giving you a slight once-over.

"Oh, don’t give me that," you groaned, pulling the sleeve of your black shirt over your hand to use it to wipe away the blood on your face. "They send DC for about everything now. Soon they're gonna be cleaning up roadkill."

"You just can’t stand the director."

"'Cause she's a bitch," you hummed.

"You keep talking like that and Steve might just bring out a bar of soap."

"Yeah…" You grinned and gave her a wink after slipping off the black shirt. "Mouth washing's never worked on me." Instead of laughing along with you, her expression darkened, knowing what else was used for taming her and you. She was about to say something when Steve's broad form came into view from the corner of your eye. A sigh fell from your lips before you took off your shirt and flung it down onto your vest, leaving you in a tank top.

"I need to talk to you," his serious low voice rumbled through the otherwise quiet Quinjet, while he put down the artifact hidden away in a wooden box. Natasha let you two know she would handle the piloting as she hastily slipped to the front of the jet.

"Christ, Steve," you swore and crossed your arms, feeling the drying crimson liquid clamming up your skin's surface. "Keep your morals away from me for as long as I look like Carrie, alright?"

"Who?"

You blinked at him. "Never mind." Curiously, your eyes flitted behind Steve to where he had set own the wooden box. Before the super-soldier had time to react, you slipped past his muscular arm and toward the hidden temptation.

A hand wrapped around your upper arm, pulling you back. You gave him a sharp glare, only to be met with one of his own. "We don’t know what it does," he stated. "It might be dangerous."

Your brow twitched upward. "Don’t be silly. It's useful."

His tight hold ceased. "What do you know about it?"

"More than you, apparently," you replied and skillfully removed his fingers from your arm; the spot tingled uncomfortably, so much so you had to rub over it to make the feeling stop. Still turned to him, you have him a grin until out of the black you dashed forward, slipping the shield from his back. His arm went out to grab you but you ducked away, pushing the edge of the shield under the crate's lid, and cracking it open. Before he could reach you, you tossed the shield back to him and removed the splintered lid.

When your gaze found the glittering metal, you felt as though a little magpie had fluttered into your chest, your fingers achy to get a hold of the artifact.

"Don’t even think about it," he warned, pulling off the mask covering half his face.

You stared at him before sticking your hand inside the box and pulling out the necklace. Swinging the golden string from left to right, you stepped up to him; he was so weary of the thing between your fingers, he was close to lifting his shield and backing up as if it were a bomb. "Let's play a game."

"Let's not."

"Oh, let's," you grinned and pointed at the necklace dangling from your fingers when you were almost close enough for your chest to touch his. "If you find me, I'm gonna tell you what this baby does."

"What do you mea—" Before he could finish his sentence, the amulet flared in a bright glow. You gave him a slight wave of the hand and disappeared behind a flash of light.

…

Steve was seething.

He had known you for a while now, and had gotten used to your shenanigans and reckless actions but by the lord – you using a magical artifact without any of you knowing anything about it, was like plopping the cherry on top of the things irking him about you.

To this day, he remembers each and every word thrown between him, Tony, and Nick Fury when they were about to make the decision whether you were going to be sent to the Raft – a maximum security underwater prison located near Ryker's Island – or join their team.

Tony was all in on you joining the team from the moment he had spotted how much and how fast you were able to get on Steve's nerves. Fury had always had a thing for taking risks; some more calculated than others, for sure. And Steve had told them both off for having the worst idea of the century.

They had won.

And now, you were once again an assassin on the run, though now in possession of a magical artifact which, again, he had no knowledge of whatsoever. He could already hear Tony's taunts echoing in his ear targeting the lack of control he had over the Viper and how much Tony enjoyed watching it all play out. Steve also knew that Stark would once more comment on the redness threatening to overtake his face every time Steve was just a tad bit too close to you. Since you had joined the team, he hadn’t been able to hear the end of it.

Worst of it all; a small, reckless, idiotic part of him really did think you were the one for him – you, below all the wrongdoings in your life. Brave and strong and determined and confident.

Some of your traits reminded him of… He shook his head and cleared his throat as he hurried down the jet's ramp in front of the Avengers Compound. You had turned off your location device again, so Steve had no idea of how to find you; he would be forced to consult Tony on the matter and admit his inability to keep you in line. In the elevator,  he went over what he would tell Tony in his head, though when the ding sound came and he stepped out, Steve's eyes landed on you. Not hurt, not gone not a thief – well, perhaps a little bit of a thief – but happy, drink in hand and laughing together with the billionaire himself. And by the looks of it, you had gotten your shower, too.

When your gaze landed on him, a sly smirk spread on your lips. You whispered something to Tony so low that not even Steve's enhanced hearing could pick it up before you emptied your drink in one swig. Pushing off the bar stool, you sauntered over to him. "Congratulations, you found me."

"Where is it?"

Flicking your hand, the chain fell from your sleeve, which you swiftly caught between your fingers. "The Amulet of Abaddon." You tossed it to him. "Useful for teleporting." Smiling you turned, striding past him and up the small set of stairs leading to the private quarters.

Tony snorted into his glass of scotch, taking a delighted sip. "Seeing how much of a sucker you are, is genuinely painful, Cap." He gulped down the rest of his drink. "Anyway, I gotta pick up Pepper. Date night." Showing off his pearly whites, the billionaire came up to him. "We're flying out to Tokyo. Maybe I can get someone there to make you a life-size puppet of her. No back-talk, how about it?"

"Stark," he warned with a sigh only to receive a few dismissive slaps on the shoulder in passing. After telling FRIDAY to notify Natasha of the artifact's safety and call Damage Control to come pick it up, Steve went to find you in your room. Your empty room, as he found. Rolling his eyes at you for being intentionally difficult, he made his way to the training hall. From afar he could hear some song playing that he didn’t recognize.

You stood inside, in front of a counter filled with blades in various shapes. Where Natasha preferred her gun and Clint his arrows, you found the simpleness of a blade and its swift deadliness to be the weapon best fitting for you. Steve swallowed as he took notice of the curve of your bare neck and how low your shirt was hanging in the back, giving him a view of the heavy scarring. Still, he couldn’t help but want to be able to explore every other inch of you; discover what else you were hiding.

"Took you long enough," you teased, picking up another throwing knife and eyeing the other dozen of them already sticking out of the human-shaped target.

"What were you thinking?"

Clicking your tongue, you hurled the knife at the target with such force the tip bored itself into the handle of another, right between the target's eyes. You gave an idle shrug. "Damn, that's hella shiny. Imma take it."

He sighed to himself. By now, he should have been expecting such answers from you. "You said you would tell me everything you knew about it. So, tell me."

"I did," you countered and leaned against the counter, looking at him. "It's called the Amulet of Abaddon. It teleports stuff."

"What else?"

"I have no idea, Steven. Why don't you play with it a little and find out?"

"You said it wasn’t dangerous!" He barked. "Now you're telling me you don’t even know what it can do!"

You hummed and scrunched up your nose. "You sure about that, Steve? 'Cause I don’t remember saying anything like that." Grasping another knife from the table, you brought your body back to face the target. "In fact, I'm pretty sure I just told you to stop being silly." The knife was picked from between your fingers as you made to throw it. You huffed; your flat hand slapping against your thigh in disappointment. Whirling around, you were ready to wring the knife from him, though you halted as you detected him in such near proximity. Silly you found yourself to be as your breath was close to hitching in your throat at him towering over you.

"I'm pulling you from the field."

With a clenching jaw, you bit your tongue. "Fine. But if you think that’s going to keep me from searching, you are wrong."

"You can’t just—"

"I can, Steve." Frustration zipped through you as your fingers found your scalp. "Why is it that nobody questioned Natasha when she went after Dreykov? I'm trying to do the exact same thing!"

"No, you aren't. You are killing people without regard for what is right or wrong."

"God," you laughed and shook your head. "You know what, Steve, let's see who these people really were that you were so concerned about, yeah?" You slipped out from between the table and him, going for the large screen on the wall. Locking into the right accounts and checking the data you had prepared, you pulled the information out on a hologram. "Let's start with the two that I let live. Dimitri Petrov and his brother Mikael both Russian military and both bombers of hospitals and airports. Arseny Fedorov, whom I had to dig really deep for and the first person whose throat I slit back there, is known for flaying his victims alive." You noted Steve growing uncomfortable behind you, shifting and flinching as you pulled up the next file. "That one you're gonna like. Makar Belov, also known as The Oculist." You turned to glare at him. "You wanna know why they called him that?"

He stared back at you. "Fine," he grumbled. "What do you want me to do? Apologize?"

At his question, your glare fell from his blue orbs to the damn perfect curve of his lips. You felt your heart rhythm pick up as his gaze traveled across your face as if it was the first time, he was allowing himself to do so. Before you knew what you were doing, you were on your tippy toes with your lips catching his. Your arms wrapped around his neck to pull him in closer, as his hand fell to your hips, gripping you tightly against him. His hands found a trail downward before he lifted you with the ease of a super-soldier.

He took a few abrupt steps forward, causing your back to collide with the cool wall. You gasped in surprise but his lips were back on yours in a messy kiss, tongue grazing over your own. Your hands fell off his shoulders, hastily working to tug at the zipper of his uniform, longing to feel the strongness of his body against yours. In every fiber of your body, you could feel his want echoing as if it were your own.

The thought slipped from your mind as your hand slid under his uniform to push it from his body. For a moment his lips strayed from yours, one arm beneath you and the other pressed against the wall next to your head. Your back arched trying to get closer to him as his lips traveled down your cheek – down your neck until he pulled you off the wall and walked down the hall with precise steps. Upon crossing the threshold of his bedroom, you stopped caring where he took you. You didn’t care that only minutes prior you were close to stabbing him out of anger and didn’t care that this was merely an attempt for the both of you to relieve the tension that had been lingering in the air ever since you had met.

Your back hit the soft mattress, his fingers finding the waistband of your pants. He stopped and turned his questioning gaze on you. You gave a nod, making his eyes drop from yours as he swiftly pulled the fabric from your legs. Your fingers found their way into his freshly cut hair, while his rough fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh. Locking your legs around his, you gave a forceful shove to turn him onto his back.

You had spent many years training to throw around burly men as though they were nothing more than play dolls; a super-soldier was only a small challenge. You bent down, kissing him before pulling back with a grin. "Do you like it," you hushed against his lips, "When I kiss you, Captain?" Not granting him the pleasure once more, you hovered over his lips, waiting for him to give in first – testing him. He sat up then, hand grabbing your thigh as he guided you closer. Your chests were pressed together as you bumped your nose against his, eyes falling from his to his lips.

He lunged forward them, to lock your lips together in a heated kiss, groaning into your mouth when feeling your tongue gliding heatedly against his. His large palms groping their way along your body sent arousal creeping to your core. You couldn’t help but move against his hardness, your core hot and aching for some kind of relief. He groaned, causing you to repeat your actions, pressing down more firmly this time. His rough hands slid from where they had been gripping your thighs to your behind, encouraging you to grin down harder.

You gasped against his lips, pleasure zipping from your center to the tips of your toes, grinning as he growled lowly. "Do you want me, Cap?" You teased. Instead of answering, a hand locked around your throat, pushing you off him and into the mattress. Surprised your hand went to clutch his wrist as he lifted you by the neck to press another kiss to your lips. His other hand traveled to the hem of your panties, ripping them away as if they were no more than a thin piece of paper.

He carelessly tossed the broken garment aside, leaving you completely exposed to him. Kisses were placed up from your stomach to the skin between your chest until he reached your lips again. He took his time to enter you, leaving behind a stinging sensation brought on by his size. His body moved against yours, muscular abdomen tight against the soft flesh of yours as you wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer.

You leaned towards his ear and smiled. "Where are your morals now, Captain?"

[idcbabyialreadylostmymind]

I NEED Z-DAWG X READER SMUT !! She’s literally so hot and ik for a fact this woman has a degrading kink

OMG BABE YOU ARE SO MFING RIGHT and I was thinking the 'theres only one bed trope' cause why not 🤭🤭

Bunk mate

Pairing- Z-dawg x reader

Summary- Having to bunk with Z-dawg does not go as you planned.

Warnings- one bed trope, fingering, degrading, dirty talk, reader is called a slut (in a good way) lmk if I missed something

Her eyes were piercing through your skull, her being Z-dawg and for some reason she wouldn't stop looking at you. Before you were recom you two never had much of a friendship so what irked you was why was she staring? You couldn't lie to yourself Z-dawg was hot, and the way she looked at you made your skin burn and itch.

Pulled from your thoughts was Quadratic, "Seems like these assholes didn't know how many of us there is so seems like someones gotta bunk with someone else, and it ain't gonna be me." He said and then Z-dawg took her chance to get you alone. "Y/N can bunk with me!" She blurted out to your surprise now everyone's eyes were on you.

"Yeah sure I don't care." That was further from the truth you cared very, very much. "Then it's settled carry your stuff to your rooms." Quadratic said picking up his bag and walked down the narrow hall to his room. The rest did the same leaving you and Z-dawg, she put her hand on the small of your back. "Let's go." She said the feeling of her hand made your skin go hot. Blinking a few times you shake your head yes. Picking up your bag you followed her to your shared room.

Entering the room there was only one bed. Your eyes widened cheeks flushing to a shade of indigo. "Well looks like we'll have to share a bed." She said sitting her bag on her side of the bed. "Uh y-yeah." You responded to her. "I feel like crap I'm gonna go take a shower." She says you reply with a small nod as you begin to put your stuff up in one side of the dresser in the room. After she got back the air was silent and you couldn't take it anymore, "I'm gonna go shower." You say getting some sleeping clothes. "K." Was all she said as she put her stuff up.

All you could think about while you showered was how you and her were going to be sleeping in the same bed. Did she worry about it too or did she not care? Those were the questions that ran throughout your mind all the way until you were back in your room. She was already on her side of the bed you didn't know if she was asleep or not but you tried not to think about it. Slipping under the covers trying not to disturb her you begin to fall asleep.

It was well past eclipse now and you were tossing and turning, Z-dawg woke up and looked at you your face was twisted and then something fell from your lips, "Zdinarsk." You whine out her eyes widen you were having a wet dream, about her. She waited for a minute and then she felt shuffling under the blanket, picking it up you were clenching your thighs together a tight smirk plastered her face. And then your eyes shot open, she looks at you "Looks like you have good dreams." She says looking at you embarrassed face. "Z- Shit I'm sorry." You say covering your face. "Nothing to be sorry for, you know I could always help you." She said hand trailing to your trembling thigh.

"W-what." You stuttered at her sudden words. "I can help but only if you ask, use those words." She says humiliation is what you reeked of but your body wanted- no needed her. "Please touch me." You plea hips jerking the closer she got to your center. "You dirty girl." She says, her hands travel upward purposely missing your soaking wet core. "These shorts make you look like a slut." She chuckles as she rips them down and moves your panties to the side. Her fingers slides into your folds with ease, she rudded small but harsh circles around your throbbing clit, "shit Z- feels good." You say grinding your hips onto her hand.

"Yeah I just started guess sluts will take anything." Moaning from the degrading words she takes this time to thrust into your wanting hole. Yelling from the intrusion. She thrusted them in and out of you, thumb reaching for your clit flicking it every now and then. "You know I always thought about you like this," she said making you turn your flushed face to her. "On my fingers, it my tongue making you cum over and over again like the dirty girl you are." She said flipping you on your back as she fucked her fingers in and out of you at a much faster speed that shouldn't be possible but she made it happen. You grab onto her one of her tattooed arms and grip into them from all the pleasure on your body.

She curled her fingers slightly forward and smiled at your reaction, your hand that wasn't on her tugged at the sheet under you as you felt yourself get closer and closer to your orgasm. "I-i think about you too, that way." You moan out as she does a scissoring motion making you squirm. "I know you do." She teases as she connects her lips to your neck leaving dark spots on you neck and jawline. "Come on cum for me, cum." She demands and you did just that you walls tightened around her fingers as she fucks you through your orgasm, your body felt like it was on fire.

She licked her fingers as smirked at you, "Glad I choose you to bunk with."

[thebelugawhalefriend]

Cubby - Yan!Ghost x Fem!Reader

CW: NSFW mentions, Yandere themes, Possession, NOT fandom related

Note: I haven't had any requests to write and my bigger storylines I haven't had muses for, but I don't want to lose my writing spark and crap out. So! Here we are.

Please, feel free to drop any request you have in my inbox ^^ It looks like Papyrus's mail as of now hehe

Something important I must mention!! Ghosts age in this world.

Bumps in the night always spooked you as a kid. Paired with the silent and dark room you were supposed to be kept in, the only comfort you sought was the cold chill that came to your side.

You called him Cubby. Mostly because your visions of him were that of a lion cub's head upon a boy's body. He was just fine with his nickname, even if at first he insisted to be called Benji.

As you grew, you merely assumed your imaginary friend would go away. You'd move, know new friends, even try new activities. And yet, Cubby was always there with you. Even if you'd forgotten to talk to him or even look his way.

It wasn't until you brought your first real boyfriend over at 19 that Cubby lost his innocent feelings for you.

Oh, but this wasn't a case of love lost... This was a case of passion.

Whenever your partner would start anything sexual with you, Benji would throw something breakable or flicker the lights. If that didn't happen to work, well... A few nightmares are more than effective at destroying the sexual tension.

The absolute last straw was when he appeared himself as a shadowy figure watching you two. Your partner's lips were caressing your neck, though they stopped in horror upon seeing his form.

"What the FUCK is that?!" "What? There's nothing there, love! I-" "Nonono, I've HAD IT!"

Just like that, they're pulling up their pants and shuffling out of the apartment. "I am NEVER coming over again (Y/N), do you hear me?! Every time I come to fuck you, some freaky ass shit happens and I'm tired of it! Some fuckin' curse is cockblocking me and you know what? You can live with that! I'm not gonna deal with all that!"

The next few hours were spent crying on your soft bed. You couldn't bear the thought of having your first shot at losing your first time being cursed to fail.

When familiar cold hands hold yours, you look up to see... A man? A lion mask laid right next to him, with a kind green within his eyes. "Did your date not go well, (N/N)?"

"...I know you chased them off, Benji."

"I did you a favor! If anything, you should thank me for chasing off someone only after your body!"

"You didn't know them... How could you-"

"Because I've known you since we were kids. You're a stunning lady now... Men and women are going to want to take what you have and leave you to die. But..." He pulled you into an embrace, "I would never chase someone who truly loved you away."

And he does keep to his word! It's just too bad that every partner you've had didn't love you enough into his eyes. Your last partner really irked him...

The only one who earned enough of his ire to have him killed.

Taking control of their body, he walks them all the way to a nearby zoo. Slipping through the safeguards and bars, Benji slips back out of their body and leaves them within the exhibit's cage.

"Man found mauled inside of the Sea Lion attraction!" The headline reads from your notifications. You couldn't believe it when your partner's face was paired next to the famed sea lions of the zoo.

"Why would they do it... They love animals, but they'd never..." Benji's hand holds your shoulder, "Some people just get way too comfortable messing with animals, (N/N)..."

Here's some extra art of Cubby/Benji for your enjoyment!

[jinkookspencil]

the quest | ksj

your boyfriend's friends are a great help on your quest for a new hobby, leaving him feeling... irked?

description/tags: kim seokjin / established relationship / angst + a little fluff (the angst slowly builds until it's basically hurt/comfort) / feat. the rest of bts / jealous boyfriend jin / pov switches from yn to jin / no trigger warnings i'd say pg-13 / request from this anon! i hope you like it, sorry it's taken me so long, i wasn't feeling the best. i don't know if that feeling had an impact on the fic - i felt such an urge to rewrite the whole thing and start from scratch because i read it over so many times! that'll just take much longer so.. i might rewrite this sometime in the future or upload a shorter version since it ended up being my longest work ever???

wc: ~8k words

Statistics and relationship coaches claim that every introvert needs an extroverted partner. The extrovert to ‘bring the introvert out of their shell and live a little’ and the introvert to show the extrovert the value of rest and healing in solitude.

But no one who believed any of that crap had met you and Seokjin. You and Jin fit together like the pieces of the puzzles you two loved to solve together on the weekends.

The two of you were too alike: introverted souls with charming social skills and a small group of friends who ultimately loved staying at home and indulging in your stress-relieving hobbies in much-needed peace and quiet. Or so it seemed.

Early on in your relationship, Jin had boasted about his gaming skills to no end, so his irregular, prolonged gaming sessions came as no surprise to you, but considering this, what had been so surprising was the number of friends and hobbies he actually had.

Sure, you had your fair share of the same as well, but Jin did so much more than he ever let on: snowboarding, tennis, fishing, golf, and cooking, to name a few, and he carried them out with friends of all ages, from grandfathers in their sixties who he loved cooking with, to careermen in their thirties he played golf with on the weekends. When he finally invited you to see him in action, you quickly found out that it was as attractive and inspiring as it was surprising…

“All this because I sweat when I play tennis?” he said when his breathing finally returned to normal following his high, still lying naked on the living room couch after he invited you to watch him play.

“Yes… just like you’re sweating now,” you murmured, sitting up from your position between his legs and admiring Jin’s glistening, flushed skin as you grazed his chest and traced the muscles he loved to hide. “I don’t think I ever got the whole ‘jock’ thing being attractive, but it was hot… seeing you all sporty. I wish I could be like that... I want to be. I need more hobbies.”

“What do you mean?” Jin says, sitting up. “You love to read. Everywhere I turn, I see books - if there hadn't been a bed in your old apartment, I’d have thought it was a library, and now my - our - apartment is beginning to look like one.”

“I’m in the worst reading slump of my entire life. I need to do something different. More hobbies. More friends. The girls are great, but… seeing you, I feel as though I want… more. I want to be a better version of myself - and for myself. Don’t they say that happens to you when you find the right person?”

Jin’s lips meet yours once more, briefly, before he pulls away and opens his mouth to whisper. “I understand striving for ‘better’ or ‘more’ baby, but I hope you know that you’re enough. You’re always more than enough. Just the way you are. You’re good. You’re great. You’re beautiful. I love you.”

The simple yet significant words, coupled with Jin cupping your face and brushing your hair to the side, were just what you need at that moment to put your mind at ease, and you easily fall asleep in Jin’s arms.

+

The quest for a hobby was supposed to be simple. Try, and try, and try until you saw what would ‘stick.’

It was clear early on that your boyfriend’s hobbies would never be yours.

Jin begrudgingly demoted you to ‘his sous-chef-for-life’ when you nearly burned the house down three times in your attempts to surprise him with dinner.

His own gaming etiquette got in the way of you ever enjoying a good game with him, for he had no patience with newbies, and you didn’t have the patience to learn all the controls. The only good that attempt did was him buying you a PC and every gaming accessory possible in your favorite colors, even though they mostly went untouched. For his sake, you’d use the Switch controller whenever he insisted on a game of Mario Kart, and you visited your PC every now and then for a slower game. “I’m a GAMER. AND I cook. AND I fish, too,” you tease Jin every time you play Cooking Mama and Animal Crossing for all of 15 minutes.

Fishing, on the other hand, was a scene from your worst nightmare. Being woken up at the crack of dawn to maybe catch a fish after hours of waiting while seasick… was something you swore to Jin you’d never do again. Luckily, he seemed to prefer it as his usual “boy’s time” anyway, even though he never voiced it, and you quickly found out that the exact same could be said for golf - but neither of you minded the occasional role you played from the golf cart, seeing your boyfriend in action and matching in the most bougie athleticwear on the market.

Tennis… was a sight to behold. You had always said that when it came to Jin, attending some of his practice sessions just to bask in the sight and sounds of him on the court, but the same could also be said for you, though in an entirely different context. The racket seemed to reject your very being, flying from your grasp on numerous occasions and putting Jin’s trainer at risk as well as the general public when it went flying over the court’s walls and onto the street. Jin went so far as to dub it ‘the most memorable tennis day of his entire life,’ despite the fact that he had won a small championship.

Until snowboarding season came around, you were left without any new skills or passions shared with your boyfriend. His support and endless words of encouragement meant the world, but iIt had to have been for the better that none of his hobbies were yours - you understood that those were spaces he needed for himself and didn’t want to be the girl whose entire hobby or life was her boyfriend.

Nights and days he spent away were left entirely in your restless hands - try, and try, and try….

“Are you seeing Mina tonight? Nana? Girl’s night?” Jin asks as he puts on his coat.

“They’re still sick,” you pout. “I’ll be waiting here for you, baby.”

“Do you want to come along? Mr. Baek’s kitchen is always open.”

“Didn’t you say you were making some kiwi pie thing today? You know I’m allergic.”

Jin resigns, taking off his coat. “I’ll stay, then.”

You don’t allow him to, handing the thick, fleecy material back to him. “No, baby, I’m fine. Tonight, I’m trying out a new interest: European classical movies. Apparently, French films from the 1960s are very influential and artistic.”

“And boring,” Jin adds. “I watched some at university. You’re better off with Asian cinema.”

“I’ll leave that for whenever you’re free, then,” you say, anticipating the day but quickly putting the thought away. “I’ll be blasting this film so loudly, not even your ‘soundproof’ gaming room would be safe from its jazzy soundtrack.”

Jin smiles before parting his lips, considering the words he was hesitant to speak. “What if… what if I called up Taehyungie and asked him if he’s free to hang out with you?”

You drop your head as you raise your brows. “You’re arranging a play date for your girlfriend? I’m a grown woman, Kim Seokjin. I can entertain myself, much like you can…...” Your voice trails off, thinking of all the failed attempts at entertaining yourself with different hobbies and interests that were anything but interesting.

“It’s just that I know Taehyung would love that! C’mon, you know he would! You seemed to be getting on with him whenever we see the boys, right? Didn’t you both fangirl over Frank Sinatra the last time we hung out?”

“It’s Bing Crosby, honey.”

“There you go - I can’t even tell the difference… but Taehyung can. For what it’s worth, he’s complaining in the group chat non-stop that he’s bored out of his mind. So… why not?”

+

Steps away from his front door, Jin could hear trumpets echoing from his apartment. Taehyung worked his magic, alright, he thought to himself as he inputted the keycode and swung the door open. Jin expected to see the two of you lounging on the couch, watching the film, or simply having the music play through your vinyl player while you chatted away with a glass of wine. What he did not expect was to see the two of you drunkenly dancing in horrible fashion with intertwined hands and Jimin laughing his head off from the couch.

“OH! Speak of the devil!” Jimin cheers, seemingly sober. “Jin-hyung, save me from these two - please.”

In a second, you rush to Jin, screaming his name as you wrap your arms around his neck and messily kiss him on the lips. “Thank God. I can do as the song says and finally dance with mon cherie. Tae, mon ours, go sit.”

A pout appears on Taehyung’s face as he plops beside Jimin, but your eyes are still on your boyfriend, attempting to manhandle him into some form of movement. “Oh, my baby,” he laughs, letting your head rest on his shoulder. “Taehyung, I expected you to take care of her.”

“And that’s why I called Jimin,” Tae babbles, forcing a not-so-innocent childlike expression on his face, pointing at their friend. “We-we’re staying over tonight, okay?”

“Seems like a sleepover already,” Jin tuts.

“Humor her, hyung. I was called in halfway through the film and we’ve yet to finish it because they keep repeating the same scene. She’s been saying she wants to dance with you all night like the girl in the movie does,” Jimin says.

“I’ve never seen this film. I don’t know what to do,” Jin says.

“We’ll teach you,” Taehyung says as tries to rewind the film to whatever dance scene you were talking about, in as bad of a state as you were, which Jin thought would help. “Jimin, stand up.”

Jimin does, allowing Taehyung to latch onto him, and thus is immediately suffocated by the weight of his friend. “Copy my lead, hyung.”

The following morning, Jin is as fiery as the breakfast he’s cooking up on his own, ranting to himself in pout while the three of you only watch on due to your shared lack of cooking skills, hungover and bundled up at the kitchen counter.

“Do you think yoga and meditation suit me as hobbies?” you ask the boys after you and Jin had explained how you came up with ‘the movie night to end all movie nights’ as Taehyung had labeled it.

“With your patience?” Jin scoffs, and you’re quick to shoot him a glare - it stung, perhaps more than it should've, so you quickly put the thought away. Nights alone and countless failed hobbies exhausted your patience, but he hadn't seen that... as you hoped. After all, Jin was always supportive and offered not only to stay the night prior, but also indirectly gave you one of the most memorable movie nights of your life with Taehyung. A soft glare was enough.

“That’s exactly what I mean! You need yoga and meditation, but can you do it? Sit still like that?" You open your mouth to argue but fail to do so at the sight of your shaking knees - he was right. "Oh, hey, you know who else can’t sit still?”

“Who?”

“Jungkookie. You seemed to get on with him, too, no? If you’re looking for something active, why don’t you let him teach you boxing?”

“We do pilates together too, twice a week, if that’s more your thing,” Jimin quickly adds, “You’re free to join us any time.”

“Yah, it’s not easy,” Taehyung jumps in, taking a bite of the breakfast that was now in front of him. “If you want to exercise your creative skills, which is a million times more fun, we can do a painting session together. Just for fun, it doesn’t have to be perfect.”

“Exactly! That’s what I’ve been telling her,” Jin says, pointing his hands in thanks towards Taehyung for echoing the words he'd spoken to you restlessly when you gave up origami and journaling. There had to have been some wisdom in the advice, you think, but your patience had been worn thin... how much more could one person try?

"She wants whatever she does to be ‘perfect’ at the very first attempt, but that’s impossible," Jin continues. "The only perfect thing in the world is her, but even she has to start as a beginner. That’s the point of hobbies - they don’t have to be perfect, you just need to enjoy them.”

“You called me perfect,” you blush, kissing Jin’s cheek. The reminder sufficed to get your legs to stop from beneath the kitchen table, now fiddling with the fabric of his hoodie. It was hard to envision being good enough or interesting, but at the very least, one person had seen you as such. Jin and his constant reminders were the only things that kept you from falling off the deep end... he never let you stray too far, even in your thoughts, nudging you towards Jimin when your head started to rest against his shoulder the way it always did when you needed reassurance.

“Pilates does sound interesting…” you mumble.

“Good!” Jimin cheers. “Tomorrow. You, me, Jungkookie.”

“Oh, but first,” you pause, holding Jin’s arm. His eyebrow is already raised, knowing you were about to tease him. “Are you sure it’s alright for me to go work out with your very fit and adorable young friends?”

“I am sure, brat,” Jin says, rolling his eyes before quickly whispering to Jimin, “Make sure Jungkookie keeps his shirt on.”

+

One pilates session with Jungkook and Jimin quickly turned into two, which turned into three, which turned into boxing sessions with Jungkook alone, regular morning jogs with Jimin, and a newfound love for fitness. Boxing made you feel stronger, and Jungkook’s thoughtful observations and comments were of more help and motivation than your now-shared instructor. And catching the sunrise at dawn really was as beautiful and as ‘worth it’ as the annoying health gurus claim to be, something you and Jimin begrudgingly admitted to.

Jin had been supportive as he always was.... up until the day you almost fainted, scolding Jungkook and Jimin for not being more careful of you and insisting you take a week-long break.

“But honey, I don’t want to stop so abruptly! I’m on a roll and I miss the boys already! And for the record, they are always so considerate. I messed up and did more than I should've, but I'm fine today!” you pout, laying on the couch with a hot compress on your core to relieve your soreness and snacking on a fruit bowl, as Jin instructed and prepared.

“My love, you’re exhausted. I don’t want to hear any more of it for at least five days….” he tuts, carefully placing kinesiology tape on your skin. “I hate seeing you this upset, though. You said you feel as though your brain ‘opened up’ when you began exercising, right? Well, why don’t you try exercising that beautiful brain? Take Taehyung up on his offer and take an art class together.”

So you do. Sandwiched between Taehyung and Jungkook at back-to-back painting sessions, you were inspired by their very different approaches to their shared hobby. Tae had his signature style that seemed to effortlessly flow out of him and onto the canvas every time, whereas Jungkook tried a different approach, concept, tool, or style at every session. Both boys seemed like natural talents, but you found peace and awe in Taehyung’s freedom of expression and especially Jungkook’s itch to learn and try new things so fearlessly time & time again...

It was hard to tell what you would create from session to session, slapping paint on a rough pencil sketch every time, but with every stroke of your paintbrush and conversation with the boys, you could breathe a little better...

“Ya, with all these colors… Is this what Namjoon-hyung calls ‘modern art’?” Jungkook teases, staring at your latest creation. You’re quick to poke him with the paintbrush for teasing you, and he’s quick to reassure you.

“It’s Pollock-y, dear Jungkookie the Artist Who Hates Learning Art History,” Taehyung explains. “It is art.”

+

to: my love [6:01pm]: hey, how’s the art class going? how are the boys?

to: prince charmjin [6:32pm]: good! we’re basically done!! we’re going out for dinner. jungkookie is hungry and i think I owe him for making him listen to my rant on the injustice women face and how society is built on misogyny

to: my love [6:34pm]: hehehe knowing jk, he was willingly listening, like i did. even he’d agree that you don’t him dinner. i made pasta at home..

to: prince charmjin [6:51pm]: aw :( we’re already at the steakhouse. maybe jk will be in the mood for pasta later too though

to: my love [7:01pm] have fun :)

to: prince charmjin [8:58pm] on my way home, honey. tae’s dropping me off. jungkook wanted to come but he’s asleep right beside me and he’s tae’s next stop.

to: my love [9:02pm]: good, they’re taking care of you just as i asked them to

to: prince charmjin [9:04pm]: they’re the bestest boys. i don’t need them to take care of me though. :3

“They’re my babies, and I love them,” you remark to Jin after showing him your latest creation, a matching one-of-three painted self-made pottery sculpture with the boys.

The younger boys were your safe space, he thought. Good. And… so am I.

“And I’m your biggest baby that you love the most,” Jin smiles, pouting his lips in want of a kiss. When you grant his wish, a feeling washes over him… one that he couldn’t help but identify as temporary. A seconds-lasting painkiller. “I guess you get the younger boys, and I get the older ones. I’m closer to them anyway. You’ve met them all, haven’t you? Namjoon and Yoongi? And Hobi, of course.”

“Hoseok is always here, Seokjin, so of course, but I think I’ve heard of Namjoon and Yoongi more times than I’ve actually seen or met them. Do they have any hobbies I can steal? The boys mentioned something about Namjoon and art?”

“Namjoon is art. In that he's beautiful and unbelievable, but also that he is interested in anything and everything art-related - museums, galleries, exhibitions, and all that crap. And fitness, so… there’s that,” Jin says, instantly regretting his words at the memory of Namjoon working out, grateful for remembering his friend’s most unenjoyable hobby to move on to. “Oh, he actually hikes! He meditates in the mountains like a wise old man afterwards. Hoseok likes dance, of course, but he also loves fashion. Yoongi likes fishing and drinking with me only,” Jin emphasizes, having always been proud and appreciative of the fact that he’d been the only one who was ever able to get Yoongi to join in on another’s hobby. “By himself, Yoongi plays basketball.... he’s studying, he plays tennis, fencing, he reads, produces, he scrapbooks, he gardens, he runs, he gardens, he flies, he soars! He actually might be Superman.”

You roll your eyes, prompting Jin to explain. “Sorry, inside joke with the boys. Yoongi does so much and is so secretive about it all that I wouldn’t be surprised if all of that is true. But he’d say he’s Batman rather than Superman, actually. I’m Superman… right?”

Jin places his hands on his hips, buffing out his chest and glancing at you through his periphery, hoping his extra hours at the tennis court paid off whenever you'd had an art or fitness session with the boys. He had to know if you saw him as such, as some type of Superman… especially after the countless times you’d trained with Jungkook and Jimin. Though he tried to push the thought away, the image bit at him, even now when was messing around. A seed of something he couldn't quite name...

When your hands are on his shoulders, trailing down his chest, he begins to relax. Even more so when you use his fork to finally take a bite of the dinner he’d prepared. Perhaps he’d been too worried.

“Well, we both know I don’t need saving, but I’ll play along, my handsome Superman. This Lois Lane wants to meet and investigate the interests of the rest of your Justice League, baby.”

“Okay,” Jin murmurs. “Who should we start with?”

“Namjoon? Hey, he’d probably be Aquaman, huh? Same nature shit, apparently, and definitely the same body.”

Perhaps he hadn’t been too worried.

+

to: prince charmjin [9:02am]: i am texting you from the beyond. from the spiritual realm.

to: prince charmjin [9:03am]: come climb up this fucking mountain and bury your girlfriend she’s dead and hates her life and didn’t pack enough water

to: prince charmjin [9:03am]: you’ll know the way, my blood, sweat, and tears left a trail

to: prince charmjin [9:04am]: i gotta admit it’s pretty tho (1 image attached)

Knew it.

Jin was rarely a smug man, but he couldn’t help but indulge in the feeling when he’d woken up to your texts and later when you trudged into the apartment, resigning from a hiking day with Namjoon and swearing you’d never do it again. He guessed you’d hate every second of it but didn’t want to hold you back from your mission and trying something new. His pride is quickly squashed, however, when you follow up the sentence with a declaration that he’d invited you to the opening of an art exhibit the very next day.

“I’m his VIP guest, honey,” you cheer, kissing Jin on the cheek. “And I’m going to the afterparty too so you can have a boy’s night - call your grandpa friends! Oh, it’ll be past their bedtime, won’t it?”

He forces a chuckle. “I hate that that’s true. Plus, I’ve seen way too many people this week, so I’ll game til the early hours of the day - just like I did when I was single.”

Jin hates that the thought had left his lips. It was honest, he had missed his gaming marathons when he never had someone to go to bed to, but it was cruel to mention. He hated the idea that some part of him meant it as such, as a signal, a cry, anything… you never said such words or guilted him when he’d been busy. It was spiteful, it wasn’t like him…. or was it?

“Oh, great! I know you used to love those game-a-thon things. I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t realize you stopped because of me. I hope you know you can do those at any time, okay? I won’t mind.”

Something turned in Jin’s stomach. The seed of what he could only label as worry was now an undeniable pit at his very core.

He should be ecstatic at the fact that you were so accepting of him possibly spending an ungodly amount of hours gaming… but it was too accepting. A smile was on your face, but for the first time in your relationship, Jin couldn’t read what it was - as though a sudden, unknown filter stood between you. Was it temptation? An unthinkable impulse he sensed on your end... Joy, relief, or freedom? Perhaps it was, Jin couldn't tell. It ate at him now, and instead of surrendering, he fought with what he had left.

This… this was the least he could do for you, he told himself, thinking of all the ways he came up short as a boyfriend where others succeeded.

He replayed the image over and over again - the way your eyes light up after every acquired skill or hobby. Your subsequent, beautiful smile seemed like the only thing he could hold on to, keeping aside the anxieties surrounding the reasons behind it. It had to be reminder enough. Seeing you happy made him happy. He knew that…. but he also knew that something dark festered within him. He didn’t like it… he didn’t like it all…

+

to: y/n [5:30pm] on my way home

to: y/n [5:35pm] just got here… where are you?

to: y/n [6:01pm] are you working out?

to: y/n [6:02pm] hey?

Jin needed to blow off some steam.

Gaming didn’t work. The incompetent online players he was paired with only infuriated him further, and the shot he took only made his heart race faster. He thought to spend some time in the kitchen, but he couldn’t help but overthink, indecisive over whether to cook dinner for the two of you or just for himself. When a thought came to mind - to cook something you’d hate just to spite you for not answering his texts and calls with no prior warning or explanation - he quickly discarded the whole idea. He wasn’t hungry anyway.

A best friend would do, he figured.

When it came to opening up, he could only ever trust his younger friends - the ’grandpas’ as you liked to call them, often gave him outdated advice he never cared for. Plus, they didn’t know him like the boys did - since they now know you as well, Jin figured it was the best-case scenario. Surely, they’d have something to say.

But another hour passes, and still, none of Jin’s messages were seen or answered. The younger boys hadn’t answered when he’d asked if they knew of your whereabouts, and the older ones didn’t answer his calls or texts to talk. His skin began to crawl…

until he remembered the failsafe. Out of everyone, Hobi was the only person who still revealed his live location on a social media app to his friends. It was something Jin in particular scolded him for, knowing it was a safety breach, but now, he was thankful for it.

Of course, he’s still at the damn dance studio.

+

Is that…?

Chills shiver down Jin’s body the second he hears the music through the studio’s walls. It’s a song he knows too well… and so do you.

Following the music with long and forceful strides that echo through the corridors, Jin bursts open the door to Hoseok’s own practice room. And his stormy intrudance is proven to be justified.

In front of the mirror were you and Hoseok, dancing too close together to a song from Jin’s secret sex playlist, surrounded by the rest of the boys, watching closely and making teasing noises that shook his very core.

“YA!”

Jin’s voice booms throughout the spacious room, overtaking the loud music playing through every speaker. The group scatters, every person with a horrified look on their face…. yours hurt the most.

Rage was unfamiliar to Jin. He didn’t know what to do with it, feeling it then and there. One would normally shout or yell, question and guilt, as he’s seen and studied before… but his lips were frozen in a frown. He wondered if it was common for one to cry out of fury, though no tears streamed down his face… he knew how to hold them back. His senses confused him, distorted, forced to venture into uncharted territory. Jin could hear differing calls of “Hyung” and what must’ve been excuses as someone turned off the music - all muffled and intelligible. Through it all, he could hear only the soft call that left your lips amidst the chaos, “Jin, my love…”

With his eyes still fixated on you and the words that ease his sole, the knot within him came undone.

His throat throbs and everyone knew what it meant, though no one was close enough to see the pools in his eyes.

“Everyone leave,” you command, and the room is empty save for you and Jin within seconds.

The downpour starts. Though his face was frozen cold, Jin’s body allowed him to move, and all he could do was pace the studio and ignore your small steps toward him. When he finally stops, you’re close enough to stand before him, your head no longer hung so low. The guilt on your face was almost enough to make Jin forget his feelings.

“….I’m so sorry, my love,” you say after a moment’s silence. His lips tremble at the words, wanting to refute them… he doesn’t need to say it for you to understand.

His breath is hitched when he sees your hand extend towards his face, which he tilts just as he always would when you did this. He exhales as you do when you cup his face so gently, moving to your touch as his tears are wiped away. But when your hand brushes over his mouth, he can’t bring himself to purse his lips into a kiss as he always would. The dark seed within him still tugged him back from fully diving in.

“Sit for a moment?” you ask, and he nods, feeling his knees giving way as you lead him to the two weirdly placed chairs by the giant mirror wall in Hoseok’s studio. While you sit with your side to the back of the chair to face him better, he slumps against the hardwood backing, staring at the ceiling as his eyes dry up so he can finally face you once again.

“I can’t talk much. I.. what is this? What am I?” he mumbles with a strained voice, pushing the skin at his temples. “Fuck… I’ve tried rehearsing this, and even then, the words just didn't come out. I can't put a name on it, but I don’t like what’s been happening. All of it. No… No, not all of it.” Jin breathes deeply before continuing. “My girlfriend is never around, and not only that, she spends all her time with my best friends… without me. I know you’re on your journey for more self-discovery and that you really like the boys, so I feel like a piece of shit for feeling this way and for saying this, but… fuck, I’m... I'm angry.”

Jin sees you take in his words, brushing away a couple of runaway tears. “I understand. You have every right to be pissed,” you repeat. “I… shit, I’m sorry, Jin. I never meant to exclude you, my love. The boys don’t either… but that doesn't excuse it... It doesn't." You go stone cold, as though you were replaying the time that's passed over and over in your head. "Will you allow me to talk for a little while? Can I… unpack it all on my end?”

How could he not? Jin nods.

“I learned a whole lot on this 'quest’ which started with your support, I may add - and I’m not blaming you here. I’m thanking you, honey… You’ve been incredible.”

Already, Jin starts feeling sick, hearing the words of a definite breakup speech and knowing that he was the furthest thing from incredible. His friends were. All he can do is watch, now looking at his fingers as he bites his own nails on an unsteady hand.

"Most guys would never even suggest to their girlfriend the idea of her hanging out with his friends - alone. I'm so grateful, honey, and not only that, it actually might be one of the sweetest, most attractive things you've ever done..."

H-huh? Jin tugged at his own sweater, thinking of the possible ways you'd get to the end of your speech and the conclusion that stated what he ultimately feared - that the attraction, or worse, the love, wore off with all you were left with.

“But most of all, I'm grateful. I'm different. I probably wasn't around that much for you to see, but... on this quest, it was as though I unlocked parts of myself I didn't know I had. That was a past version of me, the girl who was in an eternal reading slump, and was too scared to do much else but stay in that slumpish cocoon... I love my cocoon and staying in, don't get me wrong, but I just have more things that give me joy. I feel more certain of myself - like more of that confidence you rubbed off on me. It seems trivial, I know, but everything... everything helped."

You were right. Jin hadn't seen any of it - the rewards of your quest. He cursed himself, knowing he could have if he only paid attention, recalling warped memories of your pride and new experiments. He didn't have to take your word for it, seeing some of it now. You were more sure of yourself. Bold. Happier. That one note settled it - if this grand speech were to end the way he had expected, all that mattered was that. That you were happier.

"That's good," he croaks. "I'm proud."

"I'm proud of myself, too," you nod. "I am the slightly more improved version of myself I knew I could be. Maybe I could be even better, I don't know... but through it all, I kept repeating to myself the same phrase, over and over again. 'You’re enough. You’re always more than enough. Just the way you are. You’re good. You’re great. You’re beautiful. I love you.' Those words... that's what kept me going more than anything."

Jin's breath is hitched when he's finally able to look at you so directly, at the woman he loved with his entire being, quoting his own words. He had meant every word then, prior, all throughout, and would for eternity. If those simple words were enough to help, though he was certain they were not enough to capture the depth of his love, he had served his purpose in life.

"I was entirely motivated by self-love and your love for me, Seokjinnie. I fucking love you," you exhale, and Jin does too, coming undone. All he could do was hang his head low as the tears instantly return, and in seconds, you're at his knees, reaching for him. Like he'd foolishly been dreaming of...

"I don't deserve you. I've been so... so..." his low voice trails off.

"My love, let me finish, hmm? It'll help," you whisper, trying to hold onto any piece of him, and Jin lets you, feeling a rush through his very soul at him being called as such by you. He just hoped he wasn't awaiting more cushioning for a devastating blow... even so, it was one he was now reminded to fight for.

"I have to talk about the boys. I obviously enjoy the hobbies I do with the baby boys - you remember when I told you how I love how strong I feel now? How I feel creative for the first time since high school? That holds up, and in truth, the boys are just angels. I developed such a close friendship with Jiminie, Taehyungie, and Jungkookie that I don't think I can let that go. I just adore them…. and so much so that I’ve been trying to set them up with the girls - Nana, Kiki, and Mina.”

A breath escapes Jin, his fingers stroking his chin. It made sense, he thought. Nana and Taehyung in particular would be perfect together…

“I know you’re closer with the older boys, and I haven’t forgotten them. Namjoon is very cool, but… pretty much none of what he likes works for me. Hiking is as bad as fishing, no offense, and art is only fun when we’re mindlessly having fun in the studio. Otherwise…” You scrunch your nose at the thought, shaking your head violently in disapproval - the endearing act that never fails to make him giggle, even now. “The only reason we keep in touch is to talk books, which… you know I’ve always liked,” you explain.

Jin nods. You and Namjoon’s reading speeds always made him feel like a third-grader. You’d sooner finish reading a 700-page book than learn how to make a simple grilled cheese sandwich - Namjoon was the same. In a world where most people were not as such, at least you two clumsy nerds know of each other, he thought.

“Dancing was… always on my list of things to try, believe it or not. You were there when I brought it up to Hoseok,” you recall the interaction you’d had weeks ago, and so does Jin, who had been so taken aback at your suggestion to Hoseok, having assumed you’d want fashion or social media advice from his savvy friend. You’d never danced sober more than simply swaying, even on the most private occasions… there was never any reason for him to know dancing was always a thing you’d wanted to try... but then again, perhaps the 'new you' had been buried too deeply. But it took guts to ask Hoseok - he knew you knew that as well - the sheer courage and confidence that must've settled in only recently….

“But…. I pretty much told him that I didn’t want him to teach me anymore after the first lesson. He’s like… really fucking scary, Jin, holy shit. I know you've mentioned it, but I didn’t think he was capable of being like that! I thought he was going to kill me!” Another giggle escapes him at your shock. If you had simply run the idea by him, he’d have told you that already, he thinks to himself, as he did after your hike with Namjoon, but he chooses to say it out loud this time. “Oh, lesson learned, believe me, honey. I passed it off as me wanting a female instructor, which I do. Because well….I couldn’t tell Hoseok I wanted to learn burlesque dancing now, could I?”

“Bur-burlesque?!” Jin says, leaning forward as if it’d make him hear any better.

“Mhmm….” The faint, smug smile on your face calmed his heart - it’d been a while since he’d seen you as such - but it did nothing to calm his mind. Just the mental image of you…. “And pole dancing too. I keep telling my instructor that I want to surprise my boyfriend, so she helped me come up with some choreography involving… things you like.”

Jin’s excitement fades when he remembers - the song. “Was that what you were showing the boys?! When I walked in….”

“As if. That’d be for your eyes only, honey. When you walked in, we were just teasing Jimin about something stupid. The song just came up on shuffle.”

Jin shakes his head and stands up to pace the room, replaying the scene once again and scolding himself. Once again, it’s as though you can read his thoughts. “It probably looked odd from your angle…”

“Why was everyone there? Wait, was that Yoongi in here too?” It’d taken Jin this long to realize Yoongi had been present as well. Save for the makeshift therapy session Jin had wanted to have earlier in the day, he had been trying to schedule appointments with Yoongi all week - a needed fishing trip and a work meeting, but his friend only ever answered when Jin had been fast asleep. Had Yoongi been here for Hoseok? Jimin?

“My day started with Yoongi,” you sigh.

You?! The one person who knew of his desperate attempts to get to Yoongi?! he thought, so shocked he had to sit down, opting for the space on the floor in front of you instead of the chair.

”No secrets, especially since I’m laying everything out today. It was my first time hanging out with Yoongi, just so you know. I wanted to pick out a good anniversary gift for you since that’s coming up, and we went shopping for all these fancy liquors. Then, he was just meant to drop me off here at the studio, and after my lesson, I found out he just stayed since Hoseokie was already here in the other room with Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung. And Namjoon… he was just here, I guess. Actually, I think he’s hiding that he’s dating one of Hoseok’s dancers. The boys seemed to tease him about it?”

“Oh shit, good. He’s always had a crush on her,” Jin smiles to himself. It starts out as happiness for his dear friend, knowing how deeply Namjoon’s affections could run, and when the crush began. It was right at the start of Jin’s own relationship with you. At that time, for the first time in over a decade, Jin finally understood his friend. Namjoon loved love. He got so caught up in the idea and complexities of love, talking endlessly about how it’s the center of the universe, tying everything together. “It is science,” Jin would always rebuff until he couldn’t. Until he understood. He wasn't going to forget any of it again - not even for a second.

And once again, the woman he loved cups his face, searching his watery eyes, and kneeling on the floor in front of him.

"….Did you ever feel this way?"

You consider his words and think over yours. "Angry? A little jealous? ....Lonely? If that's what you've been feeling... Yes, sometimes."

“Then you don’t have to be sorry, my love. I’m sorry I got angry more than anything.  I… didn’t like that. That wasn’t me…. was it?”

“Not the usual you, but it’s the human you. It’s within reason… I never saw you get jealous before, which is a green flag since I know you trust me - as you should! And I trust you! But still, as someone who gets jealous over you often… it weirdly reassured me, I guess? That you still want me.”

“…. Wait, you get this often?!” Jin blinks.

“Honey, I feel jealous whenever anyone follows their urge to say you’re handsome, which is very often. I always wish I could answer with ‘AND HE’S MINE’ and giggle like a little leprechaun who's hoarding a pot of gold all for himself,” you say with a tone so serious it makes Jin erupt in his signature dolphin-noise laugh for the first time that night.

“I’m always yours! And I always want you! Honey… this is a dark feeling. How do you deal with it often…. I… I never want to feel this way ever again,” he exhales, tugging on the fabric of your top before your hand covers his.

“I deal with it because you always remind me that you’re mine and I’m yours, like you did just now. Because you make sure I know you love me. I… I try. I promise I’ll try harder, my love.”

“No, honey, you do more than enough. I know you love me. I do. I was just… blinded, I guess, which I fucking hate. I… I thought I’d be stronger, better than to fall into this stupid mental rut.”

“You’re human. You’re my human,” you smile, hand slowly trailing down Jin’s cheek but lingering your touch over his pursed lips. Jin’s hands find your waist, and your arms immediately wrap themselves over his shoulders. When your racing hearts calm together in sync, and your breathing follows, the world falls into place and both of your meaningless defenses yield. Your bodies and spirits rest against one another, tired, aching, and longing. Jin wanted just this. To keep you close, for all eternity, if he could… if you’d wanted the same. He’s reassured when his attempt to tighten his embrace falls short, realizing how closely you’ve been holding him in turn. It was physically impossible to be any closer, and still, it wasn’t enough. Exhaling against you, with a hand somewhere in your hair at your back and the other holding your head, his senses overwhelm him once again. It’s too much, the love he’d felt at that moment. Dreamlike, even when he notices that his hand had been lying right over your bra strap. And he remembers even more.

“So… burlesque, huh?” Jin smirks.

“What do you think the chairs are here for?” Turning, Jin’s jaw drops when sees the two now-empty chairs. He tries to hide his excitement by covering his face when he sees you, sure it is red already.

“Oh, with a reaction like this, I’m definitely keeping it as a hobby then. I’m good at it too,” you smile, brushing his hair. “It’ll be good and all for you, baby. Painting random shit and fitness has been fun, especially with the younger ones, and burlesque will be for the both of us. But! My quest is not over, and my introverted self is not fulfilled just yet. I still have crocheting, writing, blogging, and photography to try out. I want something that’s entirely mine.”

“I promise that I support you with trust, love… always,” Jin thinks over his words, fidgeting with his fingers.

“And…I’m…..entirely yours,” he says quietly, a smile finally fixed on his face.

“And I’m yours,” you say with a smile, finally pulling Jin into a kiss that he can’t help but melt into. It’s soft, quick pecks and affectionate murmurs until you straddle his lap. Suddenly, it’s as though your entire mature conversation and successful attempt at communication never happened, and you replayed it all then and there. He reaches for you, pulling you down and onto him until you gasp. At that, Jin’s hand at your nape pushes you into his kiss, and you let him. He bites at your lower lip, moaning when you’re quick to do the same back, yet his sounds grow louder when he lets you passionately kiss him all over. In a fight for stability, he grabs onto the nearby chair and breaks away so suddenly.

“The - the damn boys are still here. I think I heard something break in the corridor - it’s either Namjoonie or Jiminie.”

You open your mouth to say something but don’t, looking at Jin instead. “If they’ve been trying to eavesdrop and want the gist of it, how would you like it if I fake moaned your name a bit too loudly so they know I’m yours and only yours?”

“It doesn’t have to be fake, though, does it?” he asks, leaning back on his elbows and lying in wait, positioned in front of the mirror. Seeing a turn in your gaze seconds before you pounce on top of him, Jin is electrified. Your name leaves his lips and his yours, not just as a moan but a promise. A quest of his own. To make you happier and happier for as long as he lived and more. To find a new way to love you every single day. You deserved as many as the universe had to offer.

[missmisandrytabletalk]

If somebody wants to know how patriarchy looks like post-secularism in the modern times, then pls proceed to watch the Indian film "Animal".. but a pirated version on an illegal site ofc cause u don't want those sick filmmakers and writers to profit off of this abhorrently wicked of a misogynistic crap. I can't believe the bollywood industry has still not put a ban on ANY of the films this arsehole of a director has created. And the major thing that irks and concerns me is that how in the world any of those female actresses have agreed to work with a chauvinistic bigot on a film that glorifies and romanticises domestic violence, marital rape, cheating/illicit affairs, objectification of women, daddy issues, mental disorders, men having viking-like demeanour and a fuck boi persona & justifies child abuse, homicides, assault & mistreatment of women, inculcating Islamophobia and the list literally goes on. And then they are the same women you see advocating for equality and preaching about feminism like nah babe you should take your pseudo and performative feminism somewhere else cause this ain't doing shit! This is why i say that we NEED misandry more than anything in this world. This would be our only redemption arc.

[musei-thoughts]

𝘏𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘐𝘐𝘐.

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: 𝘝𝘰𝘹 𝘈𝘬𝘶𝘮𝘢 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮! 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 1491𝘸.

𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧.

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘦.

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙨: 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦.

"Uhm...sir, you can let go of my hand now." The gentle chuckle from you pulls Vox out of his trance. He hastily let’s go of your hand, fighting the urge to gawk at you. You looked so much like her that it hurts to even sneak a glance at you.

"O-oh, my apologies."

"Don't worry about it. I see you're new here, I hope you enjoy your time in Baba's cafe." Your smile gave off a gentle radiance that warms Vox's heart.

"I...uh y-yeah." He stutters, still staring at you.

...

You waited for him to take his food and walk away but he just stayed there like 🧍.

"Milord! Over here!" Vox turns to the voice of a kindred who was ushering him to come over to their table.

He walks over and sat at their table, "I'm so glad you considered going here. I see you've met miss Y/n." Shiro, smiled, acting as if they didn't witness Vox standing there an adorable idiot while ogling at you.

"Hey Shiro, do you know what day is it?" Nick, another kindred, asks; a Cheshire smile plastered on his face.

Shiro just rolls her eyes at her friend as he rambles on, "Today is the day where miss Y/n will finally give me her number~" Vox's ears perks up at the sound of your name. Why would you give him your number?

"First, we're gonna have a picnic date,"

'a picnic date?'

"...and then we'll fall in love,"

'Fall in love?'

"...and then KISS ( ˘ ³˘)!"

'K-Kiss?!' Vox shrieks internally at the thought and turns to Shiro in panic. The female just shrugs, "He's been like this ever since we met miss Y/n. Don't mind him." How could he not? The lad was practically fawning over you with those googoo eyes. It irked Vox a little, but he didn't let it get to him; I mean- who was he to intervene? He doesn't even know you apart from being a woman that looked exactly like his deceased wife.

Vox tries to ignore Nick and observed your lovely establishment. The café had a homey feeling to it that costumers couldn't get enough of. And for some reason, most of you regular customers were kindreds.

Vox didn't want to leave. Here, he doesn't find himself being troubled by his thoughts, he just feels so much at home...

Then, his eyes wander into the counter, seeing you serve the costumers with such kindness.

Was it you? Were you the source of this feeling? If you were, he sure will be coming back.

And he did.

"Vox! It's nice of you to drop by-"

The next day, he returns to the café.

"-again-"

And the next.

"-for the second time today."

You chuckled at the look on his face. Oh-oh, busted 🫢. "I...uhh...yes."

'I thought that was yesterday.' Vox internally screamed, sweating profoundly at your reaction. He was constantly coming to the café that he lost track of how often he went. You can't blame the man, he found solace being around you. Vox felt the comforting sense of familiarity from you but he doesn't go farther from admiring you from a distance as you tend to your costumers' needs.

He's shy, okay?

Give him a break, he's just taking his time to fully understand how he feels about you. How his throat goes dry whenever you strike a conversation with him, How he can't keep eye contact with you whenever your pretty e/c eyes meet his, How he wanted to pinch your cheeks whenever you playfully pout at him;

How his heart just longs for your company.

Crap. So, he DOES have a crush on you. 'Vox, what did you do? How could you allow yourself to fall for the sweet, beautiful, and lovable miss Y/n?' The demon whines internally, 'Though, who wouldn't? She's just so pretty- hidfhashgaslfnajwnkljs' He squeals into his hands. He was like a high school girl in love, pretty much a new look for the voice demon.

You didn't mind though. Vox was nice to have around and he seems to be enjoying himself so what's the harm of letting him come by more than once? Even so, the more that he spends his time in the café, the more you feel guilty for lying to him.

"You closing up for the day by yourself?"

"Sh*t Vox, you scared the ever-loving sh*t out of me."

"Sorry :("

"It's fine. Also, yes, I am closing up all by myself for tonight. Shinji's sister was in labor this afternoon, he had to leave early." You explained.

"How bout you, Vox? It's getting pretty late, why aren't you going home yet?"

"I'm walking you home." He replies. "Why?" You ask. "Because it's late?" and definitely not because he's curious about where you live. Oh Vox, even a 5-year-old could tell that you have a crush on her.

"Come on, Vox, I'm a grown woman! I can handle walking myself home!" You stated, flexing your 'guns' at him. Vox couldn't stifle his laughter when you started flexing your 'guns' at him. You looked so cute trying to flex your arms.

His reaction took you by surprise, god he looked so adorable, "O-oh shoot, I think I forgot my wallet inside, could you hold this for me?" You gave him your umbrella before unlocking the cafe's door and heading back inside. Vox just stood there waiting for you like a little kid, stepping on a random puddle to pass time.

"I'm back. let's go?"

The walk home was nice, the comfortable silence between you kept your mind at peace while Vox walked besides you wanting to break the ice.

'But she looks so peaceful...'

If he starts talking, he might ruin the mood, but if he doesn't Vox would have to wait for another time to talk to you and be with you like this, which he doesn't know when.

"Vox? Is there something you want to say?" You ask, worried about how constipated he looked. "I...uh, do you like twilight...?" He asks hesitantly, avoiding your gaze. "Actually, I do." Your conversation went on after that. The two of you shared such a nice time getting to know each other, just like old times.

Much to Vox's dismay, It didn't take long for you to arrive at your apartment. "Thank you for walking me home, Vox. I really appreciate it." He had a subtle pout on his face, sad to depart from you. You giggled, "Don't look like that, we'll still see each other tomorrow."

"R-right, well, I'll be going now. Have a good night, Y/n."

"You too, Vox."

Vox walks home, nothing else in his mind but you. He smiles, reminiscing about your smile and your sweet laughs whenever he did impressions of bowser or peter griffin. It's so nice to fall in love again. All Vox hoped for is for nothing to change between the two of you. Even if you stayed as friends of acquaintances, that's fine with him. He'll be satisfied even with just being in the background with you in the spotlight.

Once he waited for the stoplight to turn red, he realized that he was holding onto something. Your umbrella. He forgot to give it back to you. He stares at the umbrella, thinking.

"Should I return it tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'll just give it back tomorrow..." He nods to himself before crossing the street.

"-on second thought, I should return it now." He walks back but stops for a while, "Vox, no. that would make you look more desperate that Nick."

"fine." he sighs in defeat.

*ding dong*

You opened the door to see Vox standing there with a constipated smile. "Vox, hi! Uhm...what makes you drop by... ᵃᵍᵃᶦⁿ?"

"I...uh...you forgot to take your umbrella back...." he nervously returns it to you.

"Oh, thanks."

He just stood there smiling nervously like a teenage boy having a crush on his music teacher.

You sweat dropped at Vox before asking, "Would you like to-"

"-mama...?"

'Mama?' 👁️👄👁️ Vox wheezed.

He looked at the little boy emerge from behind you and watched you carry him in your arms. His heart was filled with a bittersweet feeling.

"Oh, is that your son?" He manages to ask.

"Oh, no..."

'Thank god.'

"...I'm just babysitting for a friend. This little guy just likes calling me mama." You smiled at the two year old, gently pinching his pink cheeks.

Then you spoke again, "I was about to ask if you would like to step in for some coff-"

"-YES." he exclaimed.

"E-eh?"

"I-I mean, I would love to, but sadly I forgot to wash my one-week-old tea kettle." He declines, not wanting to look and sound desperate.

"I'll be going now—again. Good night."

"Good night, Vox."

And so, the voice demon left, biting his fist and crying internally for not accepting your invite.

You closed the door, leaning your head onto it as you sighed. The guilt was really eating you alive.

"So....was that him?" A man from behind you asks.

"Yeah....

That's my husband."

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘮𝘶𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘩𝘦 >:𝘋

𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 4…?

← 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 │ 𝘕𝘦𝘹𝘵 →

← 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 │ 𝘕𝘦𝘹𝘵 𝘗𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘚𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 →

[pearl484-blog]

I've been reading a bunch of advice on writing accommodations for disabilities (Replay has a disabled character with mobility issues which I am not as familiar as I'd like with) and I have a question/complaint.

Where are the descriptions of the accommodations that are half-assing it or don't work all the time?

For reference, I have autism. One of the things that I need is a quiet area when I'm becoming over-stimulated.

Usually, I use bathrooms. They're almost always available, always seperate from social areas, often have small areas where you can put boundaries between yourself and others, and usually quiet. Take me somewhere and the first thing on my agenda is "where's the bathroom?"

However, at my psychiatric work facility, we have special quiet rooms where you can relax and chill out in the quiet away from people. These quiet rooms have a lot of variety, and I can tell from a 2 minute inspection which ones are terrible and which ones are ones I'd like.

Like yeah, the quiet room is nice, but the walls echo every sound, the floor is waaay too hard and unforgiving, and it always smells like bleach. That's not a good quiet room.

They are all technically accommodations though, and part of me wants to know what would make someone with other disabilities go: "I can see whst you're doing. I can see that you're TRYING to help, and that's....sweet, but in all actuality, your accommodation sucks."

Yet at the same time, I see all these posts about good accommodations and how they'd benefit tons of people and that feels me with joy so I feel like crap wanting to be like: "yeah, being accommodated is great, but what's one way people accommodate you that just irks you?" Because I can see the strength and hope that arises from these posts. I can feel that in myself.

Yet I can't help but crave not just stories or descriptions of good accommodations, but stories where people are trying, earnestly trying to be good and help. They put braille on things. They have elevators you can always get to. They allow written OR spoken communication, but they fuck up.

The braille never cleaned and somehow always sticky or covered in...stuff. You don't wanna know, and you'd rather just clean it up than find out. The elevators janky and always stops either RIGHT above or RIGHT below the floor it's stopping on, so you either have to drop down or fight to bounce over that edge EVERY SINGLE TIME. And yes, written is accepted, but while you're writing, the conversation always keeps going so you're forever either behind or forced to confine yourself to gestures and short sentences.

Yes, it's accomodated, but it's not a great accommodation. So, does the character suck it up and deal with it, or complain about the little things that suck but they can live with? Do they try to fix the accommodations? Is there a point where those tiny stressers make them snap?

Are they resentful of these accommodations because they're not what they're used to? Are they grateful because its better than what they had? Do others notice the issues with the accommodations? Who are they and why?

What happens when an accomodation fails? How does the character react? How do the people around him react? Is the failure clearly visible to those uneducated in this accommodation? If it's not, do they assume the character is making it up? If so, why?