#there were a lot of scenes i considered for this fic

[chunkypossum]

@azrisweek || DAY 6: Changes || 11k words

CW: These first two chapters aren't so bad but consider not picking this one up if you have problems with blood, gore and heavy shit like that.... I am rewatching Hannibal and it is quickly taking this fic in a direction I wasn't sure I was going to go in.... not saying I will, but it might become more of a horror than it was originally intended to be The long list of things Eris had found to be grateful for over the years, not so surprisingly, didn't exactly feature a quiet, unassuming existence. The thrill in what he was demanded pride and exhibition, and gods was he good at playing that game. Well, he had been good at it. Now, as much as he loathed to admit it, there was an odd satisfaction to be found in the simplicity he had agreed to. Unfortunately, as Eris quickly finds out you can't always have the brutes you want... and eat them too.

Azriel doesn't want a lot out of life. His abusive father sold him to the underground as a teen to pay off debt and that's all he has known ever since. Night after night, fight after fight. When he witnessed something he was definitely not supposed to, a part of him was changed forever. Azriel chases dreams he never thought he would have and finds himself facing choices that might force him to change more drastically than he ever thought possible.

F I C

P L A Y L I S T

SPECIAL shoutout to @acourtofladydeath @pippsmcgee and @born-to-riot for their eyes and thoughts and MAJOR help with this fic. It struggled coming out of me and thanks to them I have such a better vision for it.

READ CHAPTER 1 AND 2 ON AO3

The ceiling was arched in carved gray stone. Archaic scenes lining the walls and ceiling depicted men being torn apart by beasts, babies thrown into fires and women dancing naked in great forests. Some of the women were smiling, and some of them were screaming. It was another round room bookend by hallways. Both the hallways and the round center were lined on all sides with Iron doors. Stamped designs in the metal directly contradicted the harshness of the stone reliefs with innocent-looking animals, fields of flowers, and night skies. Designed to put people at ease, the peaceful art stood out in the otherworldly glow of the greenish light emanating from the wall scones, hiding the horror of the stone from all those but with the sharpest eyes.  Where the party went to die. Once-upon-a-time it had been a favorite of Eris’, mostly because the party wasn’t dying for him, nothing ever did. The Abyss was a depraved seduction all its own. Many doors were shut, but some more remained open, either vacant or because the occupants enjoyed putting on a show.   Taking his time, Eris let his senses open up, relishing in the past for a lingering moment or two. He marked the closed doors where faint screaming could be heard from the other side of the near soundproof material, both in ecstasy and … something else. His hands rested easily in the pockets of his jeans keeping him from reaching out and peeking behind half-open doors to the treats waiting within. 

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[mariaofdoranelle]

Look at Us Now - ch. 25

Fic masterlist

Omfg it was about time!!

I used a prompt Diana sent me forever ago about mom&daughter matching outfits but I’ll never find it again to attach the link. Thanks @autumnbabylon! <3

Also, things got a liiittle freaky in the last scene. Is it because I re-outlined URDAD while writing this? We’ll never know!

Warnings: NSFW, golden lingerie

Words: 3,1k

To Maisie’s dismay, she was stuck with her father’s poor braiding skills until she could do better herself. Ever since Rowan found out that he could get himself and Maisie ready in the time Aelin did only her hair and makeup, getting ready to go out became a lot less chaotic.

Simpler, but not simple.

His daughter was almost ready to be dropped off at Aedion’s to go to the movies with him, Lys and her son Timmy, while Rowan and Aelin went to a small party at Dorian’s and Fen’s.

He thought he was prepared for the evening, but one sentence, five words were enough for Maisie to shake his entire world.

“I want the fishtail one,” the little girl said in her bedroom, after he asked her what she wanted to do with her hair.

“Not the one with the ribbons?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Of course,” Rowan said, trying not to show his defeat.

Shit. He had just learned how to do the double french braid with ribbons.

But that what was YouTube was for, anyway. His learning process wasn’t so slow after years of this, but Rowan still praised Maisie for staying still every now and then—he’d never forget the ordeal that was learning how to do her hair from scratch, all alone with an overactive toddler. He had it easy these days.

Aelin burst through the door when he was adding his finishing touches, and her eyes lit up when she saw the little girl’s outfit.

Maisie jumped from the chair and said, “Mommy, we’re twins!”

Rowan may or may not have peeked into Aelin’s closet while she was getting dressed to coordinate her outfit with Maisie’s. Now they were both wearing jean pants and jacket with a white shirt, and it looked adorable. He was even considering taking a picture for when Aelin mocked him for not having a “sense of style”.

Aelin’s eyes widened. “Maisy Daisy! Is your dad trying a new hairstyle on you?”

“Yep!” The little girl turned around to show off her dad’s work.

She swallowed, then plastered on the fakest smile he’d ever seen. “I love to see that, honey! Can I just fix…” Aelin put her thumb and index finger close together to indicate a small amount. “One little thing before we go?”

When Maisie sat back, her mother undid Rowan’s entire work and redid it in the blink of an eye. Flawlessly. And with a jellyfish hair clip.

He blinked, stunned while his daughter picked a toy to take out with her.

Aelin wrapped both arms around his middle and kissed his cheek. “This one’s all about tension,” she whispered in his ear. “I’ll show you later.”

Her breath against his flesh and the double meaning behind her words sent a shiver down his spine, but it was quickly stifled by his daughter’s next words.

“Come on!” she shouted. “Uncle Aedy is waiting!”

Rowan froze. That name triggered a rush of memories, dragging him back to a time and place he wished he could forget. It came back in flashes, his last visit to the sex shop. His unwanted encounter with the man he wanted to call a brother, while Rowan held a purple clit sucker in his hand.

The fact that they found out about each other’s new girlfriends between then and now didn’t make it any better.

“Buzzard, you coming?” Aelin’s voice brought him back, and for a moment he wondered if she saw something haunted in his eyes.

“Do we really have to go see Aedion?”

“You wanna drop Maisie off like she’s an Amazon package?”

“We could.”

Aelin crossed her arms, eyes squinted and scrutinizing him. “Why are you avoiding Aedion tonight?’

Rowan mirrored her position, trying to mimic his girlfriend’s bravado. “What makes you think I’m avoiding Aedion in the first place?”

Truth is, he absolutely was. But admitting it meant explaining the reason why, and there was only so much a man could take.

˜˜

“Munchkin didn’t wanna come?” Was the first thing Fenrys asked, crestfallen when he first saw them at the entrance of his modern apartment downtown. If their friends hadn’t been at the front door to guide them inside, the incense smell and the mixed sound of chatter and little paws on the floor would.

Today’s party was more like a small gathering, so Maisie and Fleetfoot had been invited—Dorian and Fenrys stopped asking Rowan and Aelin for their ragers a long time ago, but it was still nice to make sure exactly how kid-friendly the evening will be.

For a moment, Rowan felt bad for them. Maybe it was because they chose not to have kids, but they really did uphold that vow to become the cool, doting uncles.

And Maisie absolutely adored them back. Until Aedion blurted out that Dorian used to date her mother years back—now the kid got all weird whenever someone mentions his name.

But she’ll get over it. If Rowan did, Maisie will too.

Aelin’s eyes darted between her two friends, a truly apologetic look on her face. “She’s at the movies.” A sigh. “She still hasn’t processed all that… history. Between Dorian and I. But she’ll come around.”

“She will.” Dorian nodded with a mournful look and a curling corner of his lip that betrayed his somberness. “They always get like this when I fuck their moms.”

Rowan tensed, his teeth gritted, but before he could give the man a piece of his mind, Aelin slapped the back of her ex’s head. Still, her scolding expression twitched with suppressed laughter.

She pointed a finger at him. “Do. Not.”

The man took a step back with two hands up in apology and surrender, and gestured for them to wait there.

The living room was large enough to defy the concept of an ‘apartment’, but that and the expensive furniture were the only clues of Dorian’s generational wealth. The place had a bunch of shelves and it still was a huge mess of books scattered everywhere, likely because the man didn’t let anyone help organize them.

The one time he asked about it, Dorian said it ‘fits the aesthetic’. Rowan asked if it was his architect’s first intention to go for an ‘untidy look’. Aelin carefully redirected the subject and it was never brought up again.

Out of thin air, Dorian came back with one drink in each hand.

“Sangrias,” he said before handing them to Aelin and Rowan.

By her eager eyes on the drink, Rowan knew he wouldn’t be drinking much of it today.

Aelin tilted her head, a question in her eyes only he could read. He nodded and squeezed her waist, wordlessly knowing what she wanted.

He’d be glad to be tonight’s driver if it meant his Fireheart was having fun.

Aelin’s first sip was eager; however, her face soon contorted into disgust, her grimace turned into a cough, and soon something in that drink had her gagging. Rowan ran a soothing hand on her back, confused at this reaction.

After a few deep breaths, she turned to Dorian and said, “Did you slide some rotten fruit into this?”

The man gasped. “I find this question highly insulting, Aelin Galathynius.”

Rowan took the drink from Aelin’s hand and smelled it, at the same time Fenrys took Rowan’s untouched drink. Both men sipped it, then gave each other confused glances.

Aelin gaped. “You like it?” she screeched.

He shrugged. It was a little too sweet for his taste, but good sangria still. Dorian and Fenrys were great bartenders.

She waved him off. “You can have it.”

Aelin and Dorian excused themselves to talk with two people from their residency days, so Rowan sat on an armchair by a tall, arched lamp and his friend brought an empty chair so he could sit by his side. Which meant he was alone with Fenrys and his big mouth.

He perched on the edge of his chair with both forearms on his thighs and his trademark smirk. “Now that Maisie won’t come here anymore, I think it’s time for you to make Munchkin No. 2.”

Rowan remained silent. He refused to believe he agreed with one of Fenrys’ jokes.

His friend continued, “And you need to make an honest woman out of Aelin.”

Rowan’s brows went up. “Are you making an honest man out of Dorian anytime soon?”

“And you need to make me a godfather this time…” Fenrys added, completely disregarding what Rowan last said. His friend kept going on the subject, and he zoned out a little, having his own related thoughts.

The ‘marriage and more kids’ subject had been brought up constantly when they finally told everyone about their relationship—nothing Rowan wasn’t thinking about himself.

He had things figured out and was ready to do it, the only problem was finding the right timing.

On one hand, he didn’t want to get ahead of himself, rush it and risk fucking up again. He and Aelin had been dating for a little over three months, not the usual time to wait until the proposal—then again, they weren’t an usual couple.

He caught her eye from across the room, gold and turquoise glinting with excitement that soon turned back to the group she was talking to.

On the other hand, a four-letter word plagued his thoughts all day, every day. When Aelin wore his t-shirt after sex in the morning, when he saw the button of her nose on his daughter’s face, when he held her to sleep, drunk in the smell of her hair.

Day and night, Rowan ached to call her his wife.

˜˜

“Buzzard,” Aelin called at his suite, from outside the bathroom. “Why did I find a gift box with my name on it in your closet?”

“You weren’t supposed to find it!” Rowan shouted, quickly wrapping a towel around his waist.

They’d just gotten home after the party at Dorian’s and Fen’s, and were their way to bed. The gift she’d just found was from the sex shop he visited a while ago, but Aelin had been so tired from work lately, he was struggling to find the right opportunity to give it to her.

When Rowan finally got out of the bathroom, the sight of Aelin holding the golden lingerie set he hadn’t given to her yet made his heart hammer inside his chest.

“Menace,” he teased.

She stared at the set with her mouth ajar. “When were you giving it to me?”

Leaned against the doorframe, he cocked his head. “Why were you snooping in my closet?”

“Afraid I might find something, Buzzard?”

Very.

Rowan squinted his eyes at her. “I thought you were ‘so sleepy’ you could ‘die from it’. Your words exactly.”

“Well, Buzzard, I’ve just changed our plans,” she said on her way to the bathroom. Right after closing herself in, Aelin opened a crack in the door to face him and ask, “Is it clean?”

He chuckled. “I washed everything so we could use it right away.”

“Perfect.” Her smile was so bright it lit him up.

She had been suggestive enough that Rowan hung his towel without bothering to put his clothes on, and it gave him time to think.

First, he needed to keep an eye on Aelin’s curiosity regarding his closet.

Second—there was no second. He was just dying to see Aelin in gold again.

“You okay there, Ae?”

“Eager much?” she asked on her way out of the bedroom. Aelin squared her shoulders and did a little twirl, cocky as ever, but then adjusted a strap. “It feels a little weird on the breasts, but it fits.”

“Pity,” Rowan said, unable to keep his eyes off her. “I think my hands need to get more acquainted with them.”

His movements were languid as he slid his hands from her hips to the sides of her chest, trembling with desire. His Fireheart looked like a living flame and, fucking hell, he couldn’t believe his luck to be the one that got to touch her.

Rowan felt the warmth and softness of her skin, her shiver as his ravenous eyes devoured the curve of her hips to the slope of her breasts. It was dizzying, the creamy of her skin, the brown of her freckles, dusty rose round tissue poorly hidden, taut with the need to be touched.

All wrapped in thin straps and golden lace.

Rowan’s loins grew near feverish with just the sight of her, and so far the way he touched her only worsened the ache in his fingers.

“Buzzard?” Aelin’s eyes were filled with something he’d recently realized that stood between mirth and desire. “Are you gonna stare at me all night?”

He chuckled, a pained sound, and hid his face on the side of her neck. “I could, you know.”

Before she got the chance to tease him further, Rowan brushed his lips against her pulse point. Standing in the middle of his room with both hands on her hips, he intensified his ministrations on her neck until Aelin’s teasing disappeared, leaving him with small whimpers and the goosebumps she left with those nails on the roots of his hair.

She pulled his mouth to hers, fingers now busy tracing his abs and pecs. His muscles were mostly a welcome consequence of his job and lifestyle, but it did make him feel smug when Aelin openly delighted in it the way she did.

Rowan grabbed her waist tighter and pinned their waists together, his naked length pressed against her stomach while he flicked his tongue against hers. She held his neck and let out a breathy moan, chasing the friction as much as he did.

That is, until Aelin took a step back and turned around. He stopped her by the foot of the bed, one hand splayed across her lower belly, the other covering her breast.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Rowan asked before he tilted her head to the side and sucked the skin of her neck into his mouth.

Her breath hitched, then she let out a breathless chuckle. “Going to our bed?”

Our. Not quite, but he liked the sound of that.

Rowan sneaked one hand in between her folds and cursed. “You’re so wet, baby.” A peck on her shoulder. “Is that for me?”

“Um—“ He pinched a nipple, and the back of Aelin’s head fell against his shoulder. “I did take a good look in the mirror before too.”

So fucking sassy.

In one quick thrust, Rowan slid all the way in, spreading her cunt open to fill it whole at once. Aelin cried out, and her body jerked forward a little—would’ve been a lot if he hadn’t held her so closely.

“Shit, I—“ Rowan could barely think, his thoughts clouded with lust. “Too rough?”

“Too good. Lemme just…” Aelin kneeled on the edge of the bed, making herself taller so Rowan could and fuck her from behind better.

And that he did.

Standing still with her kneeling on bed before him, her back to his chest, Rowan ruthlessly snapped his hips against hers. Aelin gave it as good as she got, back arched as she met his thrusts and pushed against them—there wasn’t much she could do in this position, but he liked having her at his mercy like this.

With tension bursting under his skin, Rowan brought one hand to Aelin’s neck, slightly choking her. He felt her tremble under his touch, and the shaky way she moaned his name in return was enough to make his skin burn.

The other hand went back to her pussy, muscle memory eased his finger’s path to her clit. The friction made her gasp, then Aelin ground her hips against his hand and cock both. The way she writhed on his arms was telling enough, so Rowan held himself back to keep her preferred pace constant. Soon enough she screamed his name and collapsed on his arms. Rowan pulled out, but watching Aelin orgasm so prettily for him it didn’t ease his ache in the slightest.

He placed a gentle kiss on her shoulder. “You alright, honey?”

“Perfect.” She had a dazed smile on. “Did you—“

Rowan snapped his cock back inside her because no, he did not. And he wouldn’t until she did again.

Aelin whimpered, then continued to roll her hips against his as he picked the pace once again. She took his cock until Rowan decided otherwise, like the good girl she was.

The only problem being that Rowan didn’t exactly choose when his cock would give out, and he was already too excited from Aelin’s first round. He did have his tongue and fingers in case the worst happened, but…

He pulled out took a step back—which didn’t go unnoticed by Aelin, given her frown—to grab the clit sucker.

Rowan aligned himself with her but didn’t thrust, earning him a whine from her.

“Greedy much, love?” He grabbed a fistful of her hair with one hand, while he figured out the vibrator with the other.

Before Aelin could complain further, he turned it on and put it on her clit at the same time he pounded into her again. Aelin screamed, her hips moved in a lost, frenzied pace as she tried to grab whichever parts of him she could with her back to him.

“Do you want to…” Rowan managed while panting, “The speed.”

“I—“

A thrust, or the spot it hit, made her moan and clench around him, which brought the messy string of curses uttered by Rowan. Well, she’d change the speed if she wanted to.

Aelin covered his hand with hers to change the vibrator’s speed, chasing her second climax. And Rowan—fucking hell, he wasn’t lasting much longer. His muscles felt as tight as they could be, surrounded by fire, and in this pre-orgasm state, if Rowan had the spare mental energy to pray and ask to last any longer, he would.

Aelin went still, calling out his name with a shattered breath. He waited until she completely fell apart to turn the vibrator off, and a few thrusts later Rowan shattered with her. With a blurred vision, he emptied himself around her walls, which still spasmed and contracted around his cock.

A brief kiss with a tug on the strap of her golden bra. “Take this off for me and lay down on the bed, will ya?” Rowan asked from behind, his hands still holding onto her body. “I’m not done with you yet.”

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[andthebubbles]

i can’t decide which would be hotter: halbrand being just some middle earth dude (like we thought he might be pre-ep 8), or halbrand being sauron (which he is)

[daydadahlias]

How do you feel about MiM's success? did you expect it?🤓

oh boy i sure am gonna say some words!

this is an interesting ask bc I don't really perceive MiM as being very successful personally.

I mean, I'm so immensely happy with the reaction it's getting and the interaction it's getting (bc any interaction on writing is literally the best thing in the world) and I absolutely love having the opportunity to share it more than anything!!!

but it's hard to think of it as being successful because I am, of course, comparing to every other fic I've ever posted on the same platform. and, in comparison to the reaction Scene 14 and Take Notes were actively getting as I was posting them live in the same manner I'm currently posting MiM, this is a considerably smaller reaction.

for context, a chapter of MiM usually gets somewhere between 2-5 comments (and maybe around 5 asks let's say). In contrast, Scene 14 was probably getting a consistent 5-7 comments every update (and, if I'm remembering correctly, probably around 10 asks, which is insane to think about in retrospect). Take Notes, in addition, would be getting around 7-10 comments a chapter (and probably ~10 asks as well but I don't really know that number; i'm just making shit up).

Also, I do think it's worth briefly noting that Bite Marks (another chaptered fic I tried to post on a schedule; rip my baby) has about double the amount of subscriptions that MiM has and (what I consider to be) considerably more kudos while also being significantly shorter.

So, when you're looking at the actual "statistics" of fics I've posted, I don't see MiM as being all that successful.

this is of course not to give the impression that I think MiM should have more comments/interaction or anything because I'm not a little greedy monster yknow and I really would be happy and content if only one person read it.

but I just don't think it would be accurate of me to say I think the fic is successful within the scope of how fics of mine have done in the past.

however, this statistical drop off is simply because our fandom is significantly smaller now than it was when I was posting Scene 14 and Take Notes. I could post either of those fics right now and I simply do not think they would do nearly as well as they did in 2021.

But, since those are the posting experiences I have to compare to for all my work in the future, I am well aware that no fics I post following them will ever get the same level of interaction and - therefore - I will never be able to perceive them as being successful. which,, sounds depressing dfghjk but i swear it's not!! it's not something i let myself dwell on (especially bc it's something ALL the writers in our fandom are experiencing). I write fics for me and whoever wants to read them can. it's a blessing to get to be able to share stuff at all!! and all i need is just one reader to keep posting <3

in terms of expecting it, I would say maybe that I never really have any expectations of how people will respond to fics. i'm never right when i make predictions anyway. I just never really know, so I think I'm always a little surprised by how people respond. even after 3 years of posting in the same fandom, i dont think i'll ever get over the "omg people read my stuff and like it" feeling.

so, TL;DR, i feel really good about MiM bc anyone is reading it at all :)

hope that kind of answers this, sorry for the tangent

[gothamcityneedsme]

i just finished reading everything there is of time displacement rn and i gotta say: god bless this fic its amazing im gonna talk about it to my friends at school tomorrow its so good i cant wait to see what happens next :)

Oh!!! Thank you so much! I'm glad you enjoyed the story. I really enjoy writing TD, and I'm so glad other people like it too!

[maybankiara]

appearing out of the abyss to announce a) i’ve written over 5k words today, b) the proposal fic is officially past 40k, c) i have a three scenes left to write and it’s finished, + d) then it’ll go through an extensive round of editing bc Why Not

[misserabella]

two geniuses (don’t get along)

enemies to lovers;; spencer reid x fem reader!

masterlist!

note; in this fic lila’s episode happens after elle’s departure to make the story have more sense. (S1 E18). also there have been some changes :))

synopsis; spencer reid; doctor spencer reid. some of them (mostly of them), would say he’s a genius. but if he was, then so you were. maybe that’s why you hate each other. maybe that’s why you can’t stand him.

cw;; +18 content! minors dni!, reader and spencer’s competitive asses, talk of murder, graphic scenes, weapons, guns, blood, shots being fired, lila flirting, spencer kissing lila, lots of fighting, lots of tension, teasing, apologies, reader getting hurt (mentions of stitches), threats, murder of secondary characters, talk about kinks and trauma (spencer being a smartaas), mention of spencer’s childhood and her mom… ( i bet there’s so much more but i can’t remember rn) angst, fluff and smut in upcoming chapters!!!

“another coffee, pretty boy? you wanna die?” morgan inquired the puppy eyed profiler, whose right hand held a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“actually, the caffeine in coffee has been found in animal and cell studies to protect cells in the brain that produce dopamine. in a large prospective cohort of more than 500,000 people followed for 10 years, an association was found between drinking higher amounts of coffee and lower rates of death from all causes.” he easily spat in less than a mere minute, making morgan scoff.

“it’s not considered coffee if a 99% of it is sugar, reid.” you barged into their conversation, taking a look at the files of new cases.

“sugar is one type of carbohydrate, as are fiber and starch. carbohydrates are essential macronutrients.” he defended himself, taking a sip of his coffee-sugar.

“wrong. although carbohydrates are essential macronutrients since the body uses them in large amounts, something wrong about your thesis is that sugar is not one of those macronutrients. the body doesn’t use it. in fact, the effects of added sugar intake which are higher blood pressure, inflammation, weight gain, diabetes, and fatty liver disease, are all linked to an increased risk for heart attack and stroke. so yeah. technically, morgan was right. you might die.” you nodded towards the man, who smiled at you, walking towards you and taking your face in between his hands.

“have i told you how much i love that brain of yours?” he inquired, leaving a kiss to your forehead. “brilliant.” he smiled, raising his hands in victory since for once he had won spencer and his extensive knowledge. the profiler simply rolled his eyes.

“thanks.” spencer spat at you, to what you smiled.

“you’re very welcome, agent.”

“it’s doctor.”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

spencer reid. with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, he was considered a real walking genius. maybe that’s why the two of you seemed to despise each other so much. people say geniuses actually like each other. well, you and spencer were the exception. it was easy to get on his nerves. he was not used to having someone smart enough to actually suppose a threat to his intelligence. yet there you were. you had been jumping your way up to college since you were twelve, and at the ripe age of 22, and numerous phds later, you had found yourself working at the BAU.

you had been hired after elle had left the team, and everyone had seemed happy greeting you. you had specially made quick friends of penelope and morgan. something reid didn’t seem to like. well… he didn’t exceptionally like you. something that seemed stupid ‘cause you two were the perfect pair. there was nothing the two of you didn’t know, nothing you wouldn’t catch or realize. maybe that’s why spencer despised you. ‘cause now they had you too, not only him.

it was actually a pity. you liked smart people. you liked to share opinions and learn new things you might not know with the help of others. but spencer was borderline narcissistic, and that made your body cringe in disgust. and worst of all, he was really attractive. curly caramel hair, hazel puppy eyes, full lips, small straight nose, tall stature, pretty hands… also his voice…

well, anyways. you were losing focus.

so you’d decided to match his energy. and that only seemed to make the situation worse. sure, you two worked together, but only because you had to, if you could you’d much prefer to do everything alone rather than have to share office with reid.

hotch caught your attention as he pushed a file on your table.

“and what’s this…?” you sung as you took it, inspecting it.

“training program in los angeles.” you looked at him. he was leaning against your table. “want you to go with gideon and reid.” you let out a single chuckle, tossing the paper on your table.

“no.” you simply said, watching the man sigh. “tell jj to go! or prentiss!” you offered.

“can’t. jj is helping penelope to trace an unsub and prentiss is new, need someone who has been on the ropes longer.”

“then what about morgan? he’s not doing anything.” you pointed at the man who played with a mini football.

hotch looked at you. “please? you are the only one who gets reid. you know how he can be…”

“a narcissistic, egocentric, babbling, childlike, fourteen looking mess? yeah, i know.” you smiled. “but what do i win in this situation? i mean i must gain something if i’m gonna spend more time than necessary with him.”

“a free weekend.”

“done.” you gave him your hand. “a pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

-

“spencer! spencer reid!” you hear someone call for your work-mate, a tall smiling man approaching him and shaking his hand just as the three of you entered an art exhibition. “look at you. you look just the same.” he chuckled as he gives him a quick hug. “nothing changed… spencer was the only 12-year-old in our graduating class. just the same.”

“thanks.” spencer awkwardly says, giving the man a tight smile. “these are special agents jason gideon and (y/n) (l/n). this is parker dunley. we went to high school together as you can probably gather.” he introduces all of you.

“hey. it’s a beautiful gallery.” jason gives him his hand in a shake.

“oh, thank you, thank you. parker smiles, later on turning towards you.

“contemporary art… right?” you inquire offering him your hand, to what he nods. “contemporary modern art includes a wide range of mediums and genres. it is often characterized by its use of new media, such as video and installation art, as well as its rejection of traditional art forms. contemporary modern artists often experiment with form and content, and their work can be highly conceptual.” you say, making the man chuckle.

“i see you brought your computers.” parker jokes with gideon about spencer and you. “another genius like spencer?”

“oh no, men are just smart. woman are the geniuses.” you smile, making him chuckle.

“and funny, huh? i see, i see.”

spencer coughs to grab the man’s attention. “jason’s a big contemporary art enthusiast.”

“well, we’re exhibiting four up-and-coming artists in this show. everything is for sale. and i could definitely swing a nice discount for a friend of…” he loses focus as a blonde beautiful woman enters the exhibition. “lila! hey. guys, come on.” he invites you three towards his friend, coming up to her to say hello.

“do i look 12-years-old to you?” spencer inquired gideon, to what you scoffed, thanking the waiter that offered and served you a glass of champagne.

“oh, totally.” you said as you took it, taking a sip as you heard spencer crack a fake laugh.

“real funny.”

you three made your way towards parker and… lila. she was a beautiful blue eyes-blonde young girl. the basic american beauty standard.

“spencer. you ever met a real movie star?” the man asks, to what the girl beside the blonde scoffs.

“movie star? please. she has a supporting role on a television series about beach volleyball. totally blue-collar.” your eyebrows slightly rise.

“what a friend…” you whisper to your glass, taking another sip of the champagne.

“i’m lila.” the girl gives a sweet smile to spencer, and you almost roll your eyes.

it’s only a matter of time.

“hi, im doctor spencer reid… i’m spencer. you don’t have to call me doctor.” he corrects himself.

lila chuckles. in 3… 2… 1… and tucks her hair behind her ear. there we go.

“cool.” you say, turning around without even introducing yourself, it’s not as if she’d pay attention to you. she’s too focused on spencer to care as you make your way through the gallery, taking the artwork in, trying to scape the probable flirting that was about to go down.

later on you found the two of them chatting in front of a picture in which the blue and green dominate.

“does it make you feel anything?” the blonde asked him, and you silently expect an answer from spencer.

“like what?” he asks. god he sucks.

“i can’t tell you how to feel.” lila chuckles at his frown.

“right now i feel pretty good.” he smiled and you roll your eyes.

“lila? can i talk to you for a moment?” parker interrupts their chatting and the girl nods, quickly glancing at spencer.

“excuse me.”

“sure!” he gently says, and you make your way towards him.

“feeling pretty good, huh?” you inquire him, teasingly, and he groans. “you totally suck.” you take a sip of your glass and he looks at you. “poor girl seems desperate.”

“desperate for what?” he inquires, frowning.

“oh come on, reid. and you call yourself a profiler? it’s obvious she likes you. she was trying to flirt with you.” you obviously state. “she was trying so hard and you were not catching on…” you laugh, and he sighs.

“you know ogling on other’s business is rude, right?” he questions you.

“we’re the fbi. we’re on everybody’s business. that’s our job, reid.” you ignore him, taking a look at the photograph lila and him were staring at. “calming, isn’t it?” you say and he looks at the photograph as well, taking it in.

“sometimes, the color blue is associated with loneliness and sadness. it usually happens when you combine it with specific elements, like rain.” he spits and you chuckle.

“i know that, genius. the thing is not how it’s supposed to make you feel, it’s how it really makes you feel.” he looks at you as you sip from your cup. “with lila, you might feel good, ‘cause you enjoy her company, with me on the other side, you might not even want to be here, staring at a photograph that you’ve probably seen before. that’s because you focus on everything too much. you need to see what the picture actually tells you, not focus on the person you’re staring at it with.”

spencer’s hazel eyes go back to the picture, trying to focus on it, not on your presence, or the amount of voices that surrounded him.

the exhibited photograph shows an empty gas station, lights of green engulfing it as the nightlight blue sky surrounds it. it takes spencer back to his childhood. to those days in which even if he loved his mother, he couldn’t spend another minute by her side and left his house late in the afternoon for a walk. it helped him get out of his head. he remembers watching the sun go down as the night took over the sky, studying and calling out the constellations above his head, trying to find a solution to his mother’s illness. the stars never worked, and he was always left…

“it makes me feel alone.”

-

“you know, we really can get ourselves to the airport.” gideon said, reid and you trailing behind him as the police officer guided you to his car.

“i didn’t invite the fbi here to let them make their own way around town.” he says, never minding gideon.

“we really appreciate it.” reid says and you whistle.

“so you have manners, huh?” to what he groans.

“oh, shut up.”

“hey, i can’t thank you guys enough for conducting the seminar.” kim smiles.

“well, don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything we can help with.” gideon offered, putting his bags on the trunk of the car.

you stretched your arms after having pushed in your own. “can’t wait for that free weekend.” you muster happily, to what spencer frowns.

“free weekend? what are you talking about?”

“a special thanks from hotch for coming all the way here and putting up with you.” his mouth falls open at your words.

“i didn’t get any free time and i had to put up with you!”

“that let’s you know who’s the problem in this equation.” you falsely smiled at him, patting her shoulder, and you relished on the way his jaw tightened.

your conversation ends as the three of you watch officer kim end a phone call with a not very enthusiastic ‘great’.

“everything alright?” jason asks.

“double murder at hollywood bungalow.” he informs. “a celebrity. a young movie star, natalie ryan, and her fiancé shot to death.”

“very romantic.” you mutter.

“it’s gonna be a major pain in the ass. hey, you guys care to take a quick look before i drive you to the airport? it’s on the way.” he asks, and gideon accepts the offer.

“absolutely.”

you sigh as you get on the back of the car along with spencer.

“seems like that weekend is gonna have to wait.” he happily and teasingly smiles and you send daggers in his direction.

“i’ll choke you with my bare hands.”

“did you get that kink by exposure or trauma?” your mouth falls and your eyes widen.

“what?” you almost yell, watching him ponder.

“maybe it’s because you like to have power and control. have you talked about this with a therapist?”

“you’re gonna have to see a therapist after the torture i’m gonna put you through if you don’t stop that fucking nonsense.” you warn him, and he raises his hands.

“i’m just saying, there’s nothing bad about seeking mental help-”

“spencer!”

-

“no sign of forced entry.” reid points out as the four of you enter the murder scene.

“same weapon.” gideon informs watching at the two bodies.

you stare at the female, getting closer. “the girl was shot execution style, once in the head. the male three times in the torso.”

“so you have two different MOs.” jason wonders before going back to officer kim, talking about the case. you crouch down to take a better look at the man’s corpse.

“what? you found anything?” spencer inquired from behind you, to what you shook your head.

“nah. just fantasizing.” he frowns.

“fantasizing. what the- what would you possibly be fantasizing about in a murder scene?”

“oh you know… you… in that position… you know? it’s really sexy, you should try it. here don’t move let me get my gun.” you offer while getting up, and he just rolls his eyes, leaving you behind.

“what do you think?” gideon asks the officer about the case, wanting his insight.

“i’ve had a couple other cases recently, past few months. same type of weapon, 22 caliber handgun, both shot in the head.” you look at the bodies. “the first was an established film producer, wally melman, and the second was chloe harris, another young actress. though not as well-known as natalie here.”

“any forensic evidence?” reid asks as you step away from them, taking in your surroundings.

“no, and the guys have been going through this place all morning and haven’t come up with anything.”

“so he clearly knows how to cover his tracks.”

“or hers.” you mutter to yourself.

“twenty-two’s are small but efficient. they bounce around inside a person like a pinball.” jason said.

“preferred weapon of the mafia.” spencer added. “you know, there’s no obvious sexual component to these crimes, which is usually the case with serial murders.”

“so you’re thinking this is a serial killer?” kim asks.

“well, it’s certainly a series of murders. we don’t know enough yet to call them serial.” you step into the conversation.

“would you consider hanging out in LA a little while? let me lean on your expertise until we do figure out what we’ve got?” the officer inquires and gideon nods.

“yeah, just cancel the flights. we’ll have the rest of pit team out here ASAP.”

-

the unsub seemed to follow his victims, since he knew their schedules. there was not a single witness, he knows how to blend in and hide in plain sight. he’s meticulous.

and everybody is watching.

just like everybody was watching spencer and lila.

after finding out that the unsub was actually stalking the blonde, and killing people to help her with her career, she had somehow scurried her way under spencer’s protection. it actually bothered you. ‘cause spencer seemed so distracted. and it was totally unprofessional to get involved with a target being their agent.

you were on her studio, studying everyone surrounding her. but it was one person that caught your attention.

“who’s that?” you question prentiss.

“that’s maggie, maggie lowe. for what i know she just works here.” she answers you. “why?”

“they seem pretty close, don’t you think?” you ponder, watching her physical language. “she also seems nervous, she avoids lila’s eyes.”

“maybe she’s just shy.” she shrugs, but knows what you’re pointing out.

“maybe…” then, jj appears.

“what are you guys talking about?”

“lila and possible unsubs.” emily fills her in, accepting the coffee she offers her, you take the one she handles you too with a thanks.

“talking about lila… look who’s approaching her.” she devilishly smiles. you almost groan at the sight of spencer talking to the blonde. “they seem to have hit it off.”

“ugh don’t start. he’s so focused on her when in reality he should be focused on his job…” you sip at your coffee, not realizing the shared look the other two girls send each other. “so unprofessional.” you shake your head.

“are you really mad because he’s distracted from his job or by the fact that a pretty girl is distracting him?” jj asked you, taking in your frown and confused expression.

“what?”

“oh come on, really? do you really not feel it?” emily pushes in too, and you look at them.

“feel what? i-i don’t understand.”

“there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.” the brunette explains, being backed up by the blonde.

“it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other.” you scoff.

“you’re saying that spencer and i are attracted to each other?” you inquired them both and they looked at the other. “come on guys, have you seen him? have you actually worked with him? he’s a fucking narcissist, he makes my life impossible just because i’m as smart as him. i don’t like him. at all. i can’t even stand him!” you rant. “he does this thing when he’s focused, playing with his hands and pencils, it’s so distracting. and when i state a fact, he just has to find something to actually make it wrong. every single time. and let’s not talk about how fucking childish he is, if you guys had been here for the training program, i swear to god he said this stupid things about kinks and me having trauma, oh my god i wanted to fucking kill him. he diminishes me, and thinks he’s better than me. and it just makes me sick…” you take a deep breath when you notice how much you had actually talked and your friends’ looks. “what i mean to say is, no. i don’t like spencer reid. and if he wants to fuck his job up, i’d be more than happy.”

morgan suddenly appeared, hotch right behind him.

“guys. there’s something you have to know…” the first talked.

“michael ryer’s dead.” the second finished.

“oh shit.” emily cursed.

“does lila know?” jj asked.

they shook their head.

“she’s gonna be devastated.” jj said to what you sipped at your coffee.

“well at least she has spencer, right?”

“oh, yeah. can we talk about that real quick?!” morgan inquired, astonished.

“no, morgan!” the girls stop him and he raised his hands.

“okay… but the kid has game.”

-

“woah. i like your house.” spencer said as you two entered lila’s house.

how had you managed to end up with the two of them alone, you didn’t know, and you didn’t like.

“i rent it.” the girl smiled.

“nice.” he nodded.

“lila, you should probably change all your phone numbers.” you said, messaging your team, they’d found something concerning nude photos of the young artist.

“i’m unlisted.”

“anytime you call an 800 or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. if someone gets your phone number they can go online and research all your records.” you actually responded.

“woah, are you a genius like spencer too?” spencer.

“no. i’m actually smarter.” you gave her a small smile, making her chuckle.

“uh… you should probably carry a piece of paper and pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious license plates that often reappear.” spencer tries to change the conversation as you two followed the blonde towards her kitchen. “and a security dog too.”

“allergic.” she simply answered. “do you guys want some tea?”

you shrugged. “yeah, sure. thanks.” spencer nodded as well. it was already getting late, the sun leaving the city’s sky.

“i’m gonna go change while the water boils, make yourselves comfortable.” she said while making her way upstairs.

you went back towards the salon, your eyes wandering towards a collage on lila’s wall. spencer got your left side, his white stripped button up shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“feel anything yet?” you asked him.

“there is something definitely appealing about this one.” he said and you nodded.

“like lila?”

he looked at you, his mouth falling open to say something, but just as the words were to fall from his lips, the blonde returned in a a more comfortable outfit, making her way towards the patio of her house, beside the pool.

“what are you doing?” spencer inquired her.

“i just need some air. the tea is on the kitchen.” she responded.

“what? no, lila…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you watched him go after her.

you could hear them talk and spencer beg her to come inside since there was a psychotic killer aiming at her. you made your way back to the kitchen just as fast as you saw the blonde lean into him, one of her hands tugging at his tie to pull him down. great.

your hands took the cup of steaming tea that lila had prepared you, your eyes on spencer’s as you took a sip. but the warm liquid was poured all over the floor of the kitchen, your head spinning at the blunt trauma that stroke you. your hands went to the side of your forehead as you fell, taking in the sight of your blood. you groaned as someone took you from your hair, pulling you and dragging you across the floor, your hands getting cuts from the smashed cup of tea.

“come here.” the unsub said, taking away your gun, and… you knew that voice. your eyes met the blonde’s.

“maggie lowe?” you muttered to yourself. so you were right. she was the killer and stalker.

you got dragged all the way to the salon, where you could see lila and spencer kissing from the distance. but the kiss quickly broke when maggie fired a shot up into the ceiling, capturing their attentions. spencer quickly pulled out his weapon, pointing at maggie, whose gun’s barbell was right against your head.

“maggie?” lila inquired as they slowly made their way towards you two.

“why’d you have to bring these people here?” she asked lila. “put down the gun.” she ordered spencer, clocking the weapon that kissed your skin. he quickly lowered it, calling out for the killer. “don’t call me maggie! you don’t know me!” “come on lila, let’s go. we gotta go baby, let’s go.” she ordered the actress in a soft yet hurt voice.

“maggie don’t hurt her, you don’t need to hurt her.” you didn’t know if he was talking about lila or you. or maybe both.

“you don’t know anything. i would never do anything to hurt lila. i created her.”

“no, you didn’t.” lila said.

“yes, i did!” you closed your eyes when the barbell dug harsher against your temple. “i did everything for you! and you betray me by bringing these people here… to our house!!!”

“so ungrateful…” you say, loud enough for maggie to hear you. “look at you… you gave her everything and you saw what she did to you… she kissed him. she told him she loved him.” you lied, looking at spencer. he caught on.

“what?” maggie incredulously said.

“i heard them. i saw them kissing each other like animals!” you yelled. “he abandoned me… and now i’m here. about to be killed because of him!” you spat, meeting maggie’s eyes. “you don’t have to hurt me. they don’t deserve us. i’m on your side maggie… i know how you feel. i know how it feels to be betrayed like this…” you nodded, seeing her eyes change. “give me my gun… i’ll kill him for you. and then you can have lila back. i’ll let the two of you go.” you promised, slowly rising up to your feet, extending your hand.

and just as she pointed her gun down, you tackled her, taking the weapons from her and throwing them aside as she fought against your hold.

“reid!” you called out for your work mate, who quickly came to you and handcuffed maggie, who just started crying and begging for you to kill her.

“i gave her everything…”

you looked at spencer, wiping off the blood from your eyes.

“and that’s why we need to stay professional.”

-

“are you okay, pretty girl?” morgan came to you as the paramedics wiped clean your wound.

“yeah, they say i have a light concussion. a couple of stitches and i’ll be alright.” you gave him a small smile.

“what happened in there, huh? we only got what the paparazzi had on camera, which is…” you nodded.

“yeah. well, maggie got into the house with lila’s spare keys, and basically almost killed me. it was good luck that spencer kissed lila, or else i don’t know what i would’ve done.” the rest of the team had gathered around you.

“you did good. spencer told me how you got into her head.” gideon said.

“thanks.” you responded.

“make sure you’re on the clear before getting up. we’ll be right back, gotta fill in the other officers.” hotch informed you, to what you nodded.

they all left except spencer, who silently looked at you.

“i’m sorry.” spencer said, looking at his feet. “this shouldn’t have happened, if i hadn’t…”

“… played barbie?” you finished off for him, catching his attention. “look spencer. i don’t really care about it. it’s your life and you make your own decisions, just… make sure to not put any of us in danger while doing it. even lila. one of us three could have died tonight.” he nodded. you reached on your back pockets, pulling out the films of the paparazzi’s camera. “i guess this is yours.” he called out for you once again, probably to apologize one more time, but you were still pretty shaken up and you were still pretty mad at him. “would you mind? my head is killing me.” you asked of him and he nodded, silently turning around and walking its way towards morgan and emily. your mind went back to her words the moment the needle punctured your skin. oh ‘come on, really? do you really not feel it?’ ‘there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.’. and then back to jj’s. ‘it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other’. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

you liking spencer? no way.

if there was anything you felt for spencer reid that was hate.

-

a/n; im so excited for this series!!!! so much angst and fluff and smut yet to come!🤭

[guksfairy]

I’m Tired Anyways

Jungkook x bubbly OC

playlist • original scene •

WC: 2K

In which Jungkook shows you he genuinely cares about you in his own way

💗: HEAVILY inspired by that one scene in ‘When I Fly Towards You’! If you want to see the original scene I based this fic off of I linked it above and it starts at minute 19:32 💗 !

note: I wrote this fairly quick so please excuse mistakes 🥲

You wish you could stare at her with a genuine smile but how could you? There she was standing with your Jungkook! Maybe not yours yet but eventually your Jungkook!

You watched as they stood in front of a stand looking at all the souvenirs displayed on the table along with a variety of other objects.

“Are you aware you’re pouting like a kid who was just told no?” You stare back at your best friend of 4 years and let out a breathy sigh.

“Sua, do you think they’re still close?”

“Considering this is their first time seeing one another after 2 years…no,” you begin to smile, “but who says people can’t reconnect,” and it goes away in an instant.

“You’re not helping,” you say fully turning and staring at the variety of sunglasses on the rack in front of you.

“You know I’m only joking! You can’t seriously be this upset because Jungkook and a girl from his old school are catching up,”

You walked out of your English exam tired as fuck. You looked at the other students walking out along with you and every single one looked tired. Your exam group had to get up at 6 AM for your test which would be from 7 AM to 10 AM.

Not all 3 hours were used but if you wanted a good mark than you better use them. As you walked down the ramp to the exit you catch a glimpse of Jungkook walking back and forth clearly waiting for you at the exit.

“Jungkook!” you run to him with a completely different emotion from the prior. His group was slightly luckier with their test only being 2 and a half hours long.

“I thought your test ended a half hour ago. Were you waiting for me?” you liked to tease him. He wasn’t big on emotions but even a smile would do for you.

“Oh- uh I just came out now,” you can tell he was bluffing but let it go realizing your other three friends weren’t with him.

“Have Sua, Jimin, and Minhyuk not finished their tests?” you question as you watch his eyes trail to the left and stared at the three crouching on the floor.

“She’s so in love with him she doesn’t even notice us,” you hear Minhyuk say as you smile shyly at Jungkook as he lets a barely audible laugh.

The three walk towards you and Jungkook.

“Well I need some food in my system. Should we look up places to eat here?” Jimin’s already taking his phone out before you can all agree but all your attention is quickly taken when you hear a voice call Jungkook’s name.

“Jungkook! Is that you? I thought I recognized you!” it was an older man walking towards your group with a girl who looked your age.

“Mr. Fukutomi,” Jungkook turns and greets the elder with a handshake. He wore a green badge signifying he was a teacher.

“It’s been a while since I last saw you! You remember my granddaughter, Tsuki,” she waves at your entire group and you try your best to keep a smile.

He remembers her?

“I’m assuming you came here to take your annual science exam? How was it?”

“I did and it was fine. I enjoy science a lot,” he speaks as the four of you just watch and listen to their interaction.

“Well it’s almost lunch time. Have you all eaten?” he asks and stares at us all.

“We were just on our way sir,” you hear Minhyuk behind you. You could hear the desperation in his voice for this conversation to end so he could finally grab some food.

“You should let Tsuki show you around town and then have lunch together afterward. She practically grew up here,” the elder suggests making a hand movement towards Tsuki who just smiled.

Again. You hear Minhyuk let a quiet sigh at the thought of doing something before eating.

“Oh we wouldn’t want to bothe-” ”Nonsense! I’m sure you two would like to catch up too!” he cuts off Jungkook before wishing you all a great day and walking away.

You all wave goodbye to him and watch Tsuki walk closer to you guys.

“I know this great sight seeing area but we need to walk a bit far for it,” she says.

“You think we can grab some snacks or something first,” Jimin asks.

“Of course. We can stop at the souvenir shop around the corner. They sell tons of snacks from around the world,” she explains.

“Lead the way,” Jimin replies as she lets out a small laugh and you all begin walking.

You walk shoulder to shoulder with Jungkook before realizing Tsuki was on his other side and they were laughing and conversating so you walk slower to be with Sua who was behind you.

“What’s wrong?” she notices your head slightly down as you wrap your arm around hers. You don’t even realize when Jungkook took notice of you leaving his side as he stared back at you.

You looked upset which worried him. Maybe he’ll ask you when you guys arrive at the shop.

“Tsuki’s pretty,”

“So are you, Y/N,” she replies.

“Tsuki seems smart,”

“So are you, Y/N. Stop sulking before I tell Tsuki to leave. Besides you know how head over heels Jungkook is for you,”

No. You don’t. Often times your friend group would tease you and Jungkook and would always say how in love he was with you but you never fully saw it.

Sure he’s defended you multiple times, has come to your rescue on multiple occasions, and always walks you home but maybe that was just him being nice.

He’d have to do much more for you to feel fully confident in his feelings towards you.

“Stop it. You would never,” you say leaning your head on her shoulder following the pace of the group.

“Tsuki!” you hear her call out and immediately panic resulting in you giving her a minor hit on her arm before staring at Tsuki and smiling at her. You end up making eye contact with Jungkook who also turned around.

“Nothing! Are we almost there?” Sua ask.

“We’re here!” she says pointing the bright shop filled with a variety of snacks.

Jimin and Minhyuk run inside grabbing snacks they know your group would enjoy leaving you, Sua, Jungkook, and Tsuki outside to stare at all the keychains, bracelets, and postcards.

Tsuki drags Jungkook over to a table opposite of you and Sua before she begins picking out random items.

“Got them! Let’s go” Jimin and Minhyuk walk out of the store with 1 bag filled to the brim of snacks for the 6 of you.

Tsuki begins to lead the group once more to a different destination in mind.

This time she led you to a steep hill. Not too steep but steep enough. You felt your legs giving out just from looking at it.

“I told you guys it was a bit of a walk but I promise the sights on the way up are so worth it!” she says with desperation in her voice hoping you all wouldn’t mind.

When you got ready this morning you weren’t exactly dressing for a hike.

Tsuki smiles and begins walking up and was followed by Jungkook and wherever Jungkook goes so do Jimin and Minhyuk.

“Let’s go,” Sua says walking a slower pace then the rest yet you still felt the burn after some time.

“Up ahead is a famous landmark if you guys want to go even further. You can see further out and it’s pretty during the day. Besides it’s a weekday and not many people are around if you guys are up for it,” Tsuki told the group.

You had all been walking for about 20 minutes and had finally reached an area with a bench and a sight.

“Is it the same one that people post all over their Instagram accounts to seem adventurous? Because if so, I am in,” Jimin’s eyes light up

“Yeah I mean we’re already here,” Minhyuk says with energy received after eating a bar of chocolate.

The group begins to move again before you interrupt.

“You guys go ahead! I’m going to rest here and wait for you guys. My shoes are making it slightly uncomfortable to walk,” you voice gets audibly quieter as you speak.

You look at Jungkook whose eyes don’t leave yours for a second watching you lift your leg off the ground just slightly to ease the tension in it.

“I’ll stay with you if you want,” Sua says staring at you.

“It’s fine, really, go enjoy the view,” you say looking back at the group and realizing his eyes haven’t left your face at all.

His expression read worried before his attention was pulled by Tsuki, “Jungkook, let’s go?” she begins walking away and Jungkook stares at you one last time before following suit.

You watch as the rest of the group continues walking uphill and sit on the bench staring out.

It had been about half an hour since the group left and you were growing bored.

As you take out your phone a hand reaches in front of your face holding a carton of strawberry milk with a straw poked in.

Jungkook always does it for you.

“You didn’t go with the rest of the group?” you say smiling up at him and take the strawberry milk from his hands.

“I saw a stand of drinks when we were walking and you said strawberry milk always makes you feel better,” you listen to him as you take a sip of the sweet drink and watch him sit next to you.

“Besides, I’m tired anyways,” he looks back up to where the group originally left from before speaking once more, “…they’re probably going to take a while. Do you want to explore?” he says looking at you.

“Explore?” you stare at him as he smiles at you and begins grabbing your bag and placing it over his shoulder and allowing you to get up before walking a bit further down.

“Tsuki failed to mention there’s a cable car that takes you directly to the land mark,” Jungkook says leading you to the cable car waiting for passengers.

“Oh my god if Sua found out about this she would be so annoyed! She was also starting to get irritated with all the walking,” you say taking another sip of your drink.

He’s staring at you like you hung the stars and leads you to the cable car before the two of you sit and watch the trees pass by as the machine gets higher and higher.

“You’re not afraid?” he says looking over at you and you shake your head.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of when I’m with you,” you say with the biggest smile and he stares away before you can watch his face flush

From there you completely forgot about your friends, Tsuki, and time.

Jungkook led you to other areas he thought you’d like. He bought you both ice cream and even bought you a small plushie to put on your bag because you said it reminded you of him. Eventually you two ended up on the beach collecting shells and staring at the sunset. Afterwards you decided to enjoy the view from the pier.

You watched him staring out at the birds flying above the waters and promised yourself you wouldn’t give up. Even if it took you years for him to reciprocate his feelings you would not be giving up.

When he turned to stare at you it caused you to immediately fluster and face the sea pretending you weren’t staring.

He was the one watching you this time. He was thinking about the carnival that’s coming to your city soon. He was thinking about the fireworks they would be releasing at 10 PM sharp. He was thinking about how you would react to him asking you out.

Would you turn him down? Jungkook was well aware your feelings for him were serious but he was never sure how to make it obvious he too had them.

Would you say yes and kiss him like you had in his dreams?

He would just have to wait and hope for it all to workout.

[zarnzarn]

i see all these comments talking about this after the new episode, but. i would like to state for the record that stolitz isn't. toxic.

first off, the concept of a toxic and a healthy relationship are such... vague terms. when you're online, drenched in language and tight moral boundaries, trying to put a nuanced story like helluva boss's into boxes is easy to attempt and impossible to do.

a toxic relationship is one where one or both parties is maliciously affecting the other. I'm talking fetid, nasty, rude interactions where there is more hurt than love. they're unhappy more often than not when they're with their partner, there's no respect or give from the other side.

stolitz is nothing like that.

Stolas actively cares about Blitz and actually has no fear or hesitation in ADMITTING IT OUT LOUD TO OZZIE. he has been calling, texting, commenting, laughing and finding ways to spend time with Blitz. he's throwing everything he has to the wind, finding the courage to move forward with the divorce, putting everything he has into trying to keep him. he's been alone in a palace since he was born, on medication, with such less people dear to him that he remembered the circus boy who spent a day with him DECADES ago- so when blitz comes into his life and brings back in laughter and color and sex, he's holding on with everything he's got.

and blitz does care!!! he cares a LOT, the whole series we see him falling in love with stolas through SHOW NOT TELL (his expressions, his choices, his fear, his lashing out) and utterly unable to process that stolas cares about him too when talking to fizz; almost a desperate kind of denial-

cause yknow. the first time he tried to confess something to someone he really liked, he accidentally killed half the people he knew and ruined the lives of the rest?

thats gonna leave just a teensy impact on the will to express your emotions in the future, methinks.

even before that, he clearly felt like on some level that he was unworthy and he's said twice that he despises himself for the accident even though it wasn't actually his fault. being self aware doesn't stop the emotions from emotioning.

he keeps insisting its only sex so urgently to anyone who doesn't ask because he can't even imagine it being anything else. he's both disappointed and relieved when he repeats that stolas sees him as a novelty, because what else can it be?

(there's a whole other spiel of how brave both Stolas and Blitz have to be to say it out loud even when asmodeus can't afford to, considering how publically and completely beaten down both were at the club.)

(there's also another whole spiel about how frustrating it has been for ME to see all these comments over time with such bad takes based on like,, 20 min worth of info of a show that takes months to release an ep. like godDAMN have some patience?? let the story UNFOLD MAYBE? IT WAS ALWAYS GOING TO HAVE AN EXPLANATION WHY WOULD YOU CRITICIZE THINGS THAT ARENT EVEN FINISHED ESPECIALLY AN INDIE ANIMATION- i digress)

mind you, this has NOTHING to do with abuse. an abusive relationship is one where one is actively harming the other with full awareness. Stella is an abuser and their marriage is abusive.

and stolitz isn't that; it isn't even unhealthy or toxic. it's a consensual, transactional fuckbuddy relationship that slid into something more for both of them.

but!!!!! one of the main reasons for the problems that everyone looks over is-

they're in a BDSM relationship.

I can't possibly delve into dynamics without making this a 10k research paper BUT even though we've gotten only hints and costumes and dialogue- they're very clearly and undeniably in a BDSM contract. Behind the scenes of this crazy show is a whole different story, of these two delving into the most hardcore kinks out there- knifeplay, painplay, bondage.

if you've gotten into the community, if you've read a couple dozen particularly good fics by authors who know what they're talking about, hell; even if your only experience is fifty shades or 365 or whatever- you gotta know that BDSM scenes are crazy fucking emotionally heavy. there's so much that has gone down between them during their full moons that helluva can't get into!!

but you know how in so many of these popular medias and fics, the dom in the relationship is also like,, the billionaire/mafia heir/prince, etc, the one with financial and physical power? this isnt that. it has been very clearly stated that stolas is subbing, blitz is domming.

now take a moment and think about how much that fucks up the dynamics.

in stolas' eyes, blitz is a confident, dangerous individual who's an old friend and cherished memory of his, who he's trusted wholly with his safety during sex and he's lucky to have; and he has been in an abusive arranged marriage for the past eighteen Years, he's probably not going to be pushing his luck with his dom that much in the first place. plus, blitz is never cowed by him during their conversations- think back to the first phone call right after he stole the book, completely unafraid.

and for blitz, it's someone trusting him again- but it's also a royal- a blue blood who's nearly untouchable and so much more powerful- who couldn't possibly like a piece of shit like him, apart from the sex he gets out of it. he only flirts once he gets some sort of cue from Stolas; he's desperately trying to view this as only a Goetia trying to get his rocks off, despite all the evidence to the contrary, because anything else is unfathomable to him, no matter how clearly Stolas shows it, because of the ptsd.

both of them thinks the other has the power. both of them aren't expecting the other to keep shut if something's bothering them.

and there's so much conflicting messages from the other too!

stolas calls him a plaything when trying to intimidate the humans; stolas cups his face gently and asks if he's alright

blitz asks him on a date and tells him to get better soon; blitz yells that it's only sex and doesn't reply to his messages

ya see?

bring it to fizzozzie for a second now; even though they do look all good on surface, you can still see fizz's trauma and doubt in all their interactions, they're still forced to keep the relationship secret. do you see his face when Ozzie says in hyperbole that he's never leaving the house again, or when someone accuses him of being a pampered house pet or when he got sexualized in the 7th ep? whatever happened in the interim between the accident with mammon, it fucked him UP. even though oz seems to be well aware of this when he tells him not to apologise and in their general interactions, fizz still visibly has trouble separating plaything/commodity from healthy relationship.

shout the fuck out to Ozzie btw, man knows whats UP. rooting for these two so much omg.

i forgot where I was going with this point, I'll edit it when i remember. but yeah! lovely fucking relationship, but damn what angst filled issues.

anyway, to sum up- stolitz is not a toxic relationship. the relationship is stuck sludging through misunderstandings and careless microaggressions and trauma responses, but it's not unhealthy or toxic because of the simple reason that most of the current hurt comes from... a misunderstanding. stolas didn't realise blitz would need reassurance about what they were and blitz didn't see stolas as someone who could get hurt.

unecessarily calling it toxic, even online, is more impactful than people think too. almost all spindlehorse ARE on all social medias; so MANY YouTube animators i know have found jobs there; they see your words, especially since a lot don't tag posts with "anti hb" correctly to keep them out of the main tag. there are Very few queer medias made BY queer people that haven't gone through heavy corporate revisions- helluva boss is practically a historical landmark in its success. it's very very very fucking easy to forget that not ten years ago some of the only queer videos on YouTube were butter lover (one kiss at the end post credits), dirty paws and welcome to hell (subtext).

the amount of "critical talk" helluva boss gets for what it is is very unprecedented. it's a beautiful show. can't wait for the next episode.

[pockettwinzz]

Against All Odds - L.HS

𝜗ৎSynopsis𝜗ৎ : Heeseung and Yn had never been on good terms with eachother. Yn had always like Heeseung, but Heeseung hadn't really realised how much he liked her until that one night...

𝜗ৎWarnings𝜗ৎ : MDNI, Smut, degradation words {slut, whore, etc}, Heeseung is kinda toxic, sadistic scenes {as always T.T}, Second ml syndrome, unprotected sex {naurr}

𝜗ৎAuthor's note𝜗ৎ : So it was supposed to be released 2 days agobut tumblr didn't save my draft so i basically re-wrote a lot of scenes and it turned out really rushed and i'm really sorry for that. And this is also my first fic exceeding over 2k words ^^ dividers and moodboard are by @dollywons

𝜗ৎWord count𝜗ৎ : 7.6 k [ㅠㅠ]

It had been years since I last saw Heeseung. We had grown up together, attending the same schools, sharing the same classrooms, and even living on the same street. But that all changed when we turned 18. Something had snapped inside of him, and he suddenly became this intolerable asshole who seemed to enjoy making my life a living hell. He knew I liked him and he'd always use it against me. He'd just fuck me and just disappear. I didn't understand it then, and I still didn't now, as I stood in front of the mirror in my dorm room, getting ready for the college welcome party.

I had been hesitant to go at first, mostly because I was afraid of running into him. But my friends had practically dragged me there, promising me that there were plenty of other people to meet and have fun with. And so, here I was, in the middle of a crowded room filled with strangers, trying to focus on the music and the laughter around me, while my mind kept drifting back to him.

Just then, a familiar voice cut through the noise, and I felt my heart skip a beat. It was him. Heeseung. He looked different somehow, older and more confident. His features were sharper, more defined, and he carried himself with an air of arrogance that I couldn't quite place. He was talking to a group of people I didn't recognize, laughing at something they must have said, and for a brief moment, I felt a strange mix of anger and jealousy rise up inside me.

But then, something unexpected happened. He glanced in my direction, our eyes meeting for the briefest of moments, and there was something in his expression that I couldn't quite decipher. It wasn't hatred, or anger, or even disdain. It was… something else. Curiosity, maybe? Before I could process it further, he turned away, returning to his conversation with his new friends.

A wave of confusion washed over me, and I found myself struggling to breathe as I tried to understand what had just happened. Why did he look at me like that? And why did it feel like my heart was about to burst out of my chest? I couldn't help but feel a strange mix of emotions swirling inside me, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

As the night went on, I found myself constantly glancing in his direction, watching him interact with others, trying to decipher the enigmatic expression that had been etched onto his face earlier. He was charismatic and engaging, and people seemed to gravitate towards him effortlessly. And yet, there was something about him that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Something that made me feel both drawn to him and repulsed at the same time.

I must have been staring at him for too long, because suddenly, someone handed me a drink. Before I could ask what it was, the fruity liquid went down my throat, and an unexpected warmth spread throughout my body. I felt a newfound sense of confidence wash over me, and with it came the urge to approach him. To say something, to break the ice. But what could I possibly say to someone like him?

I took another sip of my drink, trying to steady my nerves as I made my way through the crowd towards him. His back was to me, and for a brief moment, I considered just turning around and going back to my friends. But something inside me refused to let go of this absurd desire to confront him. Maybe it was the alcohol talking, or maybe it was the years of pent-up anger and frustration finally bubbling to the surface.

And before I knew it, the alcohol took over my sanity. With a deep breath, I tapped him on the shoulder. He turned around, his expression unreadable as he looked at me. For a moment, neither of us said anything. I could feel the blood pounding in my ears, and my heart raced as I searched for something to say. Anything to break the silence.

"Hey," I managed to choke out, my voice sounding strangely thick in my ears. "Remember me?"

He raised an eyebrow, seemingly amused by my drunken bravado. "Should I?" he drawled, his voice smooth as silk.

I couldn't help but feel a flash of anger at his arrogance. "You remember me, don't you?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're exaggerating" he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I barely remember you."

I felt a stab of anger course through me as I realized I had been hoping for some sort of apology, some acknowledgement of the pain he had caused. But it seemed I was wrong.

"Well, maybe you don't remember me, but I remember you," I said, my voice shaking with emotion. "I remember every single time you called me names, every single time you pushed me around, every single time you made me feel like I wasn't good enough. Every single time you'd leave me alone and just disappear"

His expression turned mockingly sympathetic, and I felt a hot flush of anger course through me. "Is that so?" he drawled. "And what makes you think that any of that matters now?"

"Because it does matter!" I exclaimed, my voice rising. "It mattered then, and it matters now. You may think you're all grown up and sophisticated now, but you can't just walk away from the things you've done."

He laughed, shaking his head. "You really are something else, aren't you? Still holding onto the past like it means something."

I felt a sting of hurt at his words, but I refused to let it show. "The past shapes who we are, you know," I said, my voice steady despite the alcohol. "And you can't just pretend it never happened."

He snorted derisively. "Well, you're hardly in any position to judge me," he sneered. "Look at you, wasted and pathetic. Drunk off your ass at your own party."

I felt a stab of pain at his words, but I refused to let him see it. Instead, I smiled sweetly and took another sip of my drink. "You're right," I said, nodding slowly. "I am wasted. But you know what? It feels good to finally stand up to you, even if it is in a drunken haze."

"You're so fucking pathetic" He laughed, shaking his head. "Still so angry, still so… consumed by the past. You really think I give a shit about any of this?" He took a step closer, his breath hot against my ear. "Look at you, drunk and pathetic. Just like the old days."

He pulled me by my waist, closer to him, "Aren't you still the slut who wants to beg for my cock?"

 He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my neck. "You think you're someone important, someone who can stand up to me?" He said as he nibbled the flesh around my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You're still just a pathetic little whore, just like you always were."

I couldn't help but fall into his manipulative touch again. It was as if I was drawn to the pain, as if I needed him to hurt me in order to feel alive. I let out a soft moan, arching my back against him as he continued to nibble and suck at my neck. His hands moved lower, cupping my ass and grinding me against his hard length. The alcohol seemed to fog my thoughts, making it difficult to focus on anything but the sensation of his body against mine.

--

So here we were, in Heeseung's house. I had no idea how we even ended up her but all I could feel right now were  his fingers tracing patterns on my skin, making me shiver. He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my ear, and whispered, "You're such a slut for me."

And just like that, something inside me snapped. It was like a switch had been flipped. All of a sudden, I didn't care about how much I hated him or how much he pissed me off. I didn't care how I was letting him have me so easily, how wrong this was. All I could think about was how good it would feel to have him inside me. How right it would feel to have him claim me again, even if just for this one night.

I arched my back, pressing my bare chest against his, and whispered back, "You know I am, Heeseung." And before I could even process what was happening, his hand found the hem of my shirt and yanked it over my head.

My breath hitched as his eyes roamed over my bare skin, tracing the lines of my collarbone and the swell of my breasts. He cupped one of them in his hand, thumb teasing at the peak of my nipple. "You're so beautiful," he murmured, and then his lips were on me, sucking gently at my nipple while his fingers worked their magic, rubbing and teasing until I was moaning into his mouth.

He eased me back onto the bed, his body pressing against mine, and I could feel his erection against my thigh. Heat pooled low in my belly, and I spread my legs wider, inviting him in. "Fuck me," I breathed, and he groaned, sliding his hands down to my hips, lifting me up, and guiding himself inside me.

I let out a sharp cry as he filled me, the feeling of being so completely possessed by him sending a wave of pleasure through me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my nails into his back, and he started moving, his hips thrusting in a rhythm that was as familiar to me as my own heartbeat.

"S-so fucking tight" his voice ragged and low, and I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge. I could feel the tension building inside me, coiling tight, and I knew I was going to come soon, so I arched my back, meeting each of his thrusts with a moan, urging him on.

And then he groaned, his body tense as he released himself deep inside me, and I felt the first wave of my orgasm crash over me, shattering every nerve ending in my body. His name was on my lips as I came, and he seemed to draw strength from it, his hips moving faster, harder, until I could feel another orgasm building, ready to explode from deep within me.

He leaned down, capturing my lips in a fierce, possessive kiss, his tongue thrusting deep into my mouth as he continued to move, his body moving in perfect rhythm with mine. I could feel the muscles in his back flex and relax as he powered into me, each thrust driving me closer and closer to the edge.

As I neared my second climax, he began to whisper dirty words in my ear, his voice low and husky, sending shivers down my spine."Such a slut for my dick, Aren't ya!".

"I hate you so much" I said, and it was in that moment that I realized how much I loved the way he made me feel. How much I loved the way he made me lose control. Although I wanted to hate him, but my body wouldn't agree.

And then he groaned, his body tensing as he came again, filling me up with his heat and his passion. His weight pressed down on me, holding me to the bed, and I could feel the aftershocks of our combined orgasms rippling through my body. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before rolling off to the side, his breathing still ragged and uneven.

For a moment, we lay there in silence, our bodies tangled together, and I could feel the warmth of his skin against mine. I wanted to hate him for the things he'd said, for the way he'd treated me, but in that moment, all I could think about was how good it had felt to be with him. How right it had felt to give in to the desire that had been building between us for so long.

---

The next morning I woke up to an empty space beside me. I rolled out of bed. The room was still spinning, my head pounding, and my body aching in places I didn't know existed. As I stumbled to the bathroom, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for last night. Not for the sex, but for the way I'd let him get under my skin again.

I wore his hoodie along with his pants  as I made my way downstairs, the scent of him still clinging to the fabric. The apartment was quiet, and I could hear the faint sound of the TV coming from his room. I hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door. When there was no answer, I pushed it open and found him sprawled across the bed, his back to me, a remote control in his hand.

"Hey," I said, my voice barely audible.

He didn't respond, and for a moment I thought he hadn't heard me. But then he slowly turned his head to look at me over his shoulder. His eyes were bloodshot, and he looked exhausted. There was a slight smile on his lips, and it made my heart ache.

"Hey," he repeated, his voice rough. "You look good in my clothes, But you look even better without them"

I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his words. "You're an asshole, you know that?" I said, trying to keep the anger in my voice. But the truth was, I didn't feel angry anymore. I felt confused.

He chuckled, sitting up a little more before looking me in the eye. "You love it, though," he said with a grin. "You know you can't resist me." His hand reached out to trace my cheekbone, and I felt myself lean into his touch despite everything.

I hated how easy of a target I was. How I always fell into his lousy trap but couldn't help myself. His touch, his words, they were like a drug to me, and I had no self-control when it came to them. But I couldn't let him see that. I had to keep some part of myself hidden, some part that wasn't just a slave to his whims.

 I pulled away from his touch, forcing a small laugh as I did so. "Oh, please. You're just as addicted to me as I am to you." I turned to walk back out of the room, but before I could take more than a step, he grabbed my wrist roughly, pulling me back against his chest. His other arm came around me, holding me tightly as he buried his face in my neck.

"You're right," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I am addicted to you. I can't get enough of you." His grip on me tightened, and I could feel the warmth of his body through his sweatpants. "But you know what?" he continued, his breath hot against my skin. "I want more. I want all of you." His words sent a shiver down my spine, and I could feel myself melting against him.

I wanted to tell him that I couldn't give him any more, that I was already giving too much. But the truth was, I didn't want to. I wanted to be his, even if it meant losing myself in the process. So instead, I closed my eyes and let him take whatever he wanted from me.

His lips found mine, soft and gentle at first, before growing more demanding. His hands roamed over my body, touching me everywhere as if he needed to feel every inch of me. The bed creaked beneath us as he pulled me on top of him, never breaking the kiss as he guided me down, his hips rising to meet me.

"H-heeseung I can't do this anymore." I said as tears filled my eyes. The truth was I wanted to be loved, and he was the only one who could give me that. But I couldn't keep giving him pieces of myself. I had to stop.

His hands stilled on my body, and he pulled back to look at me, confusion and hurt flitting across his features. "What do you mean?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper. "You don't want this?"

I took a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain. "No."

He looked at me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Okay" he said as he let me go, sitting up and rubbing his neck. "I understand." There was a note of finality in his voice that made my heart ache. "I'll leave you alone."

--

It had been a few weeks since  I had seen him. We hadn't spoken or texted each other since that night in his room. I had tried to forget about him, to move on, but it was impossible. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face, felt his touch. I knew I had been stupid to expect anything more from him, but the hope had been there, and now it was gone.

I'd seen him at college really often but anytime I'd try to look in his eyes, he'd turn away. It was as if he was ashamed of something. I knew I shouldn't have expected more from him, but it was hard not to. I missed the way he used to look at me, like I was the only one in the room. I missed the way he would touch me, like he truly wanted me. I missed him.

One day while walking to class, I feel someone bump into me. I turn around, to see who it was. It's this guy from my English class, Jake. He's always been nice to me, and I've always wondered what he looks like under that beanie. He smiles at me and says he's sorry, then asks if I'm okay.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I reply, looking him in the eyes. "Thanks for asking."

He smiles back at me, and there's something different about it this time. It's warmer, more genuine. Maybe it's just me, but I get the feeling that he's been watching me too. "You're looking good today," he says, glancing down at my outfit. "That color really suits you." His words make me feel self-conscious, but in a good way.

"Thanks," I reply, trying to hide the blush that's creeping up my neck. "I think you look pretty good yourself." I can't help but notice that he's dressed a bit differently today. His usual plaid shirt is gone, replaced by a button-down that shows off his broad shoulders. He looks...dapper, maybe? It's a strange word to think about him, but it fits.

He seems to notice me looking and grins. "Thanks, I was going for a different look today. You like it?" His confidence is endearing, and I can't help but smile back.

I caught Heeseung glaring at us like..... Like he was jealous. I couldn't help but feel something in my chest as I watched him watch them. He had been so possessive of me, even though I'd never been his. The way he would get angry when another guy would talk to me, the way he would insist that I was his and his alone. It was like living with a possessive, jealous lover. But I couldn't deny the fact that there was something about him that drew me in. Something that made me want him despite... everything.

As the days went by, I became really good friends with Jake although I knew he liked me, it was too obvious please. He was always there for me, making me laugh, making me feel wanted. I knew he was just as lonely as I was. He never made me feel pressured or uncomfortable. He was just...perfect. But for some reason I could never forget about Heeseung, the way  he used to make me feel, the way he made me want to be with him. It was like an addiction I couldn't shake off.

---

One night, after a particularly bad day, I found myself in the library, studying for an exam. I didn't even know why I was here, as I had already finished my work, but I just couldn't bring myself to go back to my empty dorm room. I was just about to leave when I hear a familiar voice calling my name.

It's Heeseung.

He looks different than I remember him. His hair is longer and messier, falling over his eyes in the most endearing way. He's wearing a simple t-shirt and jeans, but he's not glowing like he usually is. I can't help but feel a mix of emotions as I look at him. Pain, regret, and...jealousy.

"Hey" he says, his voice rough and husky. "I've been meaning to talk to you." I want to run, to avoid this conversation, but something in his voice makes me stay. He walks over to me and takes a seat across from me at the table. "I've been a real jerk to you and I'm sorry." His apology catches me off guard. "I've been so wrapped up in my own head that I've been treating you like crap."

Heeseung looks at me, his eyes searching mine. "I've been thinking a lot about us lately, and I realize that I never gave us a chance. I was so convinced that there was nothing between us." He hesitates for a moment, swallowing hard. "But I was wrong. You deserve better than that. You deserve to be with someone who really sees you, who really wants you for you."

I can feel the weight of his words pressing down on my chest. A part of me wants to believe him, wants to take him back and forget about everything that happened between us. But another part of me is afraid. Afraid that he'll hurt me again, afraid that he'll push me away again and leave me again.

"I'm sorry, and that I want you to be happy. I want you to be with someone who deserves you." He pauses, looking at me intensely. "And I hope that person is Jake. He's a good guy, and he really cares about you."

As Heeseung walks away, tears fell out of my eyes as i sobbed. I still loved Heeseung, and I know I could never forget him, nor did I want to. I wanted to run out, hug him and  tell him that I missed him, but I knew it was too late. He had finally let me go. "This is what you wanted Yn" I said to myself in between my cries.

The next day at uni, I didn't know how to act around him. Part of me wanted to tell him that I still loved him, but the other part knew that it was better this way. We didn't talk much that day, but we didn't avoid each other either. It was almost as if we were both scared to face what had happened between us.

--

After class, I decided to go to the cafeteria to grab something to eat. As I'm sitting there, lost in my thoughts, I feel a presence beside me. I look up and it's Jake.

"Hey, you okay?" he asks, concern written all over his face.

I force a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just had a lot on my mind."

He nods, understandingly. "Want to talk about it?"

I shake my head, not really wanting to get into it. "It's just... stuff." I take a deep breath, trying to find the words to explain how I feel. "Heeseung and I had this thing, you know? We were really close, but then things changed. I don't know how to explain it."

Jake nods, his expression sympathetic. "I think I understand what you're going through. It's hard when feelings change, especially when you're so close to someone." He pauses, considering his next words carefully. "But you know, maybe it's not a bad thing. Maybe it means that there's someone else out there who's better for you."

I can't help but feel a tiny bit of hope at his words. It's true that I've been so focused on Heeseung that I haven't really considered anyone else. But the more I think about it, the more I realize that Jake has always been there for me. He's always been supportive and kind, and he makes me feel good about myself. But I knew I could never return his feelings to him.

"Thanks, Jake," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "I don't know what I would've done without you."

He smiles at me, his brown eyes warm. "You don't need to thank me. I'm just here for you, you know? Whatever you need." He hesitates for a moment, then reaches out to take my hand. His fingers intertwine with mine, sending a shiver down my spine. "I've always been here for you, Yn. And I'll always be here for you, okay?"

"Thanks, Jake. I appreciate that more than you know." But just then I found Heeseung looking at us, he smiled but.... he looked sad and guilty. I looked away, not wanting to hurt Jake's feelings. But at the same time I wanted to be true to myself, cause I knew I wasn't over Heeseung.

----

Hours pass by in a blur, and before I know it, it's time to go home. As I gather my things, I can't help but feel a mix of emotions. On one hand, I'm happy that Jake is there for me, but on the other hand, there's a huge part of me that misses Heeseung. I wish things could be different, but I know they can't.

As I was leaving, Jake walks me to my car. The sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It's beautiful, yet somehow it only serves as a reminder of how my world feels like it's falling apart.

"Hey, you wanna hang out sometime?" Jake asks, his voice soft. "Maybe we could go see a movie or grab dinner or something?"

 "Thanks, Jake. I appreciate it but...." I trail off, unable to meet his eyes. "Look, I know you like me but I- I'm sorry Jake." I can't do this to him. I can't lead him on while I'm still in love with someone else.

He nods, understandingly. "I get it. You don't have to apologize. I'm just here if you ever want to talk or hang out or whatever." He smiles at me, but there's a hint of sadness in his eyes.

"Jake, you deserve someone better. Someone who actually loves you. Please forgive me." I say, biting my bottom lip.

He takes a step closer, cupping my face with his hands. "Yn, I don't care if you love me or not. I just want to be your friend. And if that's all I ever am to you, then that's okay. I'll be here, waiting for you, whenever you need me." His eyes search mine, trying to convey the depth of his feelings. He tried to smile but the sadness was evident in his eyes. "I hope things work out between you and.... Heeseung"

I smile at him, feeling a twinge of guilt for leading him on. "Thanks, Jake. You really are a great friend. I'm sorry for putting you through this." I lean in and hug him, grateful for his understanding and support.

As I pull away from the hug, I can't help but wonder if things will ever be the same between us.

Jake steps back, nodding toward my car. "Well, I should let you go. Take it easy tonight, okay?" He gives me a small wave as I climb into my car and start the engine. I wave back, watching as he turns and walks away.

The drive home is a blur. My mind is spinning with thoughts of Jake and Heeseung. I can't help but feel guilty for leading Jake on, even if he is my friend. And as for Heeseung, I don't know what to think. I still love him, but I can't deny that seeing Jake there tonight made me feel something too.

When I finally pull into my driveway, I'm exhausted both physically and emotionally. I climb out of my car, my muscles aching from the day's practice. The air is cool, the sky dark. The familiar scent of home fills my nose, but it doesn't bring the comfort I'm craving.

As I trudge up the steps to my front door, I can't help but feel like I'm drowning in a sea of confusion and conflicting emotions. I want to talk to Heeseung, to work things out with him.

---

"Fuck everything." i mumbled to myself, sitting on a bench, consumed by alcohol. I'm not even sure how many drinks I've had, but it's way too many. My head spins and my vision blurs. I just want to forget, to feel numb. But it doesn't seem to be working.

I feel a hand pat on my  shoulder, startling me out of my thoughts. I look up to see Heeseung standing there, looking down at me with a mixture of concern and confusion. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

I shrug, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I'm fine." My words come out slurred, and I can tell he doesn't believe me. He kneels down in front of me, his eyes searching mine.

"You're not fine, Y/N. You're drunk. You shouldn't be out here alone." He reaches out and takes my hand, his grip firm but gentle. "Come on, let's get you inside." He pulls me to my feet, and I lean heavily against him, my head spinning.

As we make our way toward the front door, I feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence. He walks me over to the couch and carefully sits me down, making sure I'm stable. Then he disappears into the kitchen, only to return a moment later with a glass of water. "Drink this," he says, handing it to me.

"W-why?" I asked, my voice barely audible. "Why are you being so nice to me?" He looks at me with a hurt look.

"Because I care about you, Y/N. I'm sorry if I was always being so selfish, I never cared about your feelings but... ever since I let you go, I can't stop thinking about you. I miss you so much." He sighs, his voice raw with emotion. "I want to be with you, Y/N. I want to work things out between us. I don't want to lose you again. I want to try and work things out. I want to show you how much I've changed and how much I've grown. I want to be the person you deserve, the person you need."

He reaches out and cups my face in his hands, his eyes searching mine. "I love you, Y/N. I always have and I always will. Please, give me another chance. I promise I won't let you down again." His words echo in my head, washing over me like a warm summer rain. I can feel the weight of my emotions lifting, the fog beginning to clear.

As I look into his eyes, I know that I can't turn away from this feeling anymore. I can't deny the love that I have for him. "I love you too, Heeseung," I whisper, my voice barely audible even to my own ears.

He lets out a shaky breath, his grip on my face tightening just for a moment before he relaxes it again. "Thank you," he whispers back, his voice thick with emotion. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

He brought his face near to mine, his lips  brushing against mine so softly it sent a shiver down my spine. Our kiss was gentle at first, but it quickly deepened as we both surrendered to the overwhelming desire that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. His hands moved through my hair, cupping my head as he angled his mouth to fit perfectly with mine. I felt the heat from his body, the strength in his arms, and it all made me feel safe and protected.

I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my body against his, and moaned into his mouth as he explored every inch of it. He made a low growl deep in his throat, a sound that sent a thrill through me, and he began to kiss me more urgently. I could feel his heart pounding against my chest as our passion rose, and it made me want him even more.

As we continued to kiss, his hands wandered lower, moving over my hips and then up my sides, cupping my breasts through my shirt. I arched into his touch, moaning into his mouth, and he responded by pulling my shirt over my head in one swift motion. His lips found my bare skin, sucking and nipping at my sensitive flesh as he moved lower, kissing a trail down my neck and collarbone. I gasped and shivered under his touch, my fingers tangling in his hair.

He  pulled back, looking at me with lust-filled eyes. "You're so beautiful," he breathed, his voice raspy with desire. Then, with a swift movement, he swept me up into his arms and carried me over to the bedroom. The room spun as he lay me down on the bed, his weight pressing me into the mattress. His hands moved to the hem of my shorts, tugging them off in a single fluid motion.

He leaned down, his lips finding my center, and I cried out, arching my back off the bed. He teased me with his tongue, circling and probing until I was writhing beneath him. "Heeseung," I moaned, my voice barely audible. He smiled against my skin, his hand moving between my legs to find my clit. With his expert fingers, he began to stroke me, in time with his tongue, and I felt my orgasm building, growing closer with each passing second.

He straightened up, looking down at me, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so beautiful when you come," he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. And then he leaned down, his lips finding mine once more as my orgasm crashed over me in a wave of pure pleasure. Our tongues tangled together, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm as we came together in this moment, this beautiful, intimate exchange of love and desire.

As the intensity of our kiss began to subside, Heeseung pulled back, gazing down at me with an expression of awe and wonder. His hands moved to my hips, gently spreading my legs, and then lower, cupping my bottom. He kissed me again, this time slower and more tender, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, teasing dance.

I ran my fingers through his hair, feeling the softness of it against my fingertips. "You feel so good," I murmured, arching into him as he continued to kiss me. His response was to nip at my bottom lip, making me gasp, before moving his lips back to mine.

His touch was everywhere, possessive and gentle all at once. His fingers traced along my collarbone, teasing the sensitive skin beneath my breasts, and lower still, until they found the dampness between my legs. He circled my clit, making me shiver with anticipation, and then he pushed two fingers inside me, moving in a slow, steady rhythm.

I arched into his touch, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt the familiar tightness building within me. He kissed me deeply, his tongue tangling with mine, and it felt like we were the only two people in the world. The world outside this bedroom faded away, replaced by the intense sensation of his skin against mine, the smell of him filling my nose, and the feel of him moving inside me.

He continued to thrust slowly, his rhythm matching the pace of our breath, and I could feel myself growing closer and closer to the edge. I whimpered into his mouth, my hips moving in time with his, urging him on. He moaned into the crook of my neck, his body trembling against mine as he neared his release.

He pulled back slightly, looking down at me with eyes that were dark with desire. "I want to feel you around me," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion. His fingers left my body, moving lower to spread my folds open, revealing my wetness. Then he positioned himself at my entrance, guiding himself back inside.

As he sank deeper, I gasped, arching my back off the bed. He was so big, so full, and it felt incredible to have him inside me again. He began to move, his hips thrusting in a steady rhythm that matched the beat of my heart. His skin was hot against mine, his muscles tense as he fought to control his movements.

He brushed his lips against my neck, his teeth scraping gently over the sensitive skin. "You're so tight," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "It feels incredible." He pulled back slightly, then thrust forward again, burying himself deeper still. His movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in ragged gasps as the pleasure built within him.

I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with my own, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt myself begin to lose control. Heat pooled low in my belly, spreading through my body in a wave of pleasure that threatened to consume me. "Heeseung," I moaned, my voice hoarse from the intensity of the moment. "I'm close."

He growled, his movements becoming more urgent as he felt me begin to tighten around him. His hips slammed against mine in a rhythm that was as brutal as it was beautiful. He leaned down, capturing my lips in a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue dancing with mine as he drove into me over and over again.

The sensation of being so completely filled by him was unlike anything I'd ever experienced. It felt like we were one, our bodies in perfect harmony, moving together as if we'd been practicing this dance our entire lives. My nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks that would no doubt linger long after we'd parted, a reminder of this moment, this connection.

His movements grew more urgent as he neared his release, his hips slamming into mine with an intensity that left me gasping for air. The pleasure built within me, tightening my core, making every nerve ending tingle with anticipation. I arched my back, meeting his thrusts with my own, my body trembling with the effort to hold on to this feeling, to make it last just a moment longer.

He moaned into my neck, his muscles tensing beneath my fingers as he came, his hips bucking wildly against mine. I felt the hot spurts of his release deep inside me, and with a cry of pleasure that seemed to echo through the room, I followed him over the edge.

My body convulsed around him, my inner muscles squeezing tightly as wave after wave of intense pleasure washed over me. I arched my back off the bed, feeling the familiar tightness in my core as my orgasm peaked and then began to slowly subside. He remained inside me, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to regain control.

His skin was slick with sweat, and mine felt sticky where we were pressed together. He withdrew carefully from my body, lowering himself to lie beside me. His lips brushed against my neck, leaving a trail of tiny, hot kisses as he traced the line of my collarbone with his fingertips. "That was incredible," he murmured, his voice still shaky from the intensity of our lovemaking. "I can't believe how good that felt."

I ran my fingers through his sweat-dampened hair, feeling the softness of it against my palm. "Neither can I," I whispered, looking up at him.

He smiled down at me, his eyes filled with tenderness. "I think," he said, his voice still rough with emotion, "I think I could stay like this with you forever." He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to my lips.

We fell asleep in  each other's arms, tangled together like two bodies meant to fit perfectly. The sheets were kicked off, revealing our entwined limbs and the line of his muscular back. I rested my head on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart beneath my ear. The room was dim, the sunlight filtering through the curtains in a soft, golden glow

--

For the first time in a while I'd felt so good. It felt like everything was perfect now.

As the days went by, we settled into a comfortable routine. Waking up together, making breakfast in the small kitchen, and then spending the mornings exploring the city. We would hold hands as we walked, sometimes stopping to kiss in the shadows of an alleyway or nestled against a tree in a park. The warmth of his skin against mine, the softness of his lips on mine, it all felt so right.

One evening, as we sat at the small dining table eating takeout from our favorite Thai restaurant, Heeseung reached across the table and took my hand in his. His touch sent a shiver down my spine. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something," he began, his voice a little hesitant. "I've been thinking about what we're going to do with our lives now that we've graduated."

I looked up at him, feeling a knot forming in my stomach. "What do you mean?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. His hands were shaking as he placed it on the table in front of me. "I've been thinking that maybe we should... maybe we should get married," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know it's sudden, but every time I look at you, I feel like I'm home. Like I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be."

My heart swelled at his words. It was a feeling so foreign, so overwhelmingly beautiful that for a moment I couldn't speak. I reached out, taking his hand in mine and squeezing it gently. "Heeseung, I-" I began, but he cut me off, his eyes shining with unshed tears.

"I know it's a lot to ask, but it's like we're meant to be together. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else. I want you to be my wife, my partner, my best friend. I want to grow old with you, and I want to raise a family with you."

His words brought tears to my eyes, and I could feel the warmth of them spilling down my cheeks. I reached out, taking him in my arms, burying my face in his neck. "Of course I'll marry you," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I love you too."

He let out a shaky breath, wrapping his arms around me tightly. "I love you so so much. I can't imagine spending my life with anyone else."

I pulled back, cupping his face in my hands, and smiled at him through my tears. "Me neither. I love you, too, Heeseung. I would marry you a thousand times over."

He wiped away my tears with his thumbs, as he opened the box, he pulled out a small, elegant ring. The diamond glinted in the light, and I felt my breath hitch in my throat. "Will you marry me?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion. "Will you spend the rest of your life with me?"

Tears streaming down my face, I nodded, unable to find my voice. I took the ring, slipping it onto the finger he held out, and felt a rush of happiness so intense it threatened to overwhelm me. He cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, his lips soft and tender against mine. It was a kiss that spoke of promises and hopes and dreams, and I knew in that moment that no matter what challenges or obstacles lay ahead of us, we would face them together.

This was it. This was the moment I had been waiting for, the moment I had always hoped would come. As I looked into Heeseung's eyes, I could see the love, the devotion, and the promise of a future together. His words, his touch, his presence; they all made me feel like the luckiest woman in the world. And now, with his proposal ring glistening on my finger, I knew that this was real, that we were really going to spend the rest of our lives together.

We had faced so many obstacles since we met in college. I couldn't help but remember the old us, if only we had talked about things earlier, if only I told him about my feelings from the start, maybe we wouldn't have struggled so much. But all I  could do now was to cherish the moment we were in. It felt like a new beginning, a fresh start. Maybe we were meant to be, I mean getting married after all that happened between us! It's like we fought against all odds just to be here.

𝜗ৎTaglist𝜗ৎ : @cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay @nyxtwixx @yeonzzzn @rikiwaify-blog @seokseokjinkim @heelovesmeknot @kimsunoops @heelvsted @kirinaa08

[letteredlettered]

Went to a panel about slash fanfic at a con. Moderator said, "Welcome to the panel about erotica." The words "slash" and "erotica" were used interchangeably throughout. Panel was great.

There was a Q&A at the end so I raised my hand and said these terms seemed conflated. Moderator explained she'd run this panel for 10 years and it started out being about slash but drifted into erotica and she never changed the name. (She also said she was glad I brought it up and would keep it in mind for the future of the panel.) The guy on the panel who writes original m/f erotica said that slash and what he writes are basically the same thing. I said I had no complaints about the name of the panel or the panelists, I was just curious about what slash meant to them, and whether slash by necessity had to include sex scenes to be considered slash.

Two panelists answered that slash was romance between men but usually had sex. Eventually one of them did make clear that slash didn't have to have sex but that it was what they wanted to read. Another panelist said that to them slash really just meant dude romance but people wouldn't read their fic unless there was sex so they felt they had to put sex scenes in.

Person came up to me after the panel. Said they felt I didn't get my question answered. Then they explained that since the 70s, 'slash' has been used to mean m slash m romance, meaning explicit and sexual. Then they said it sounded like what I wanted to ask about was shipping. They explained to me that shipping is just wanting the characters to be together but slash meant sex. They explained that since the invention of AO3, people had begun to use the ampersand to mean the fic had two characters who were friends and that the slash was used to denote ships, but even though that punctuation just meant romance, the word "slash" in the last twenty years had become synonymous with explicit fic. I explained I had been in fandom longer than twenty years and this was not necessarily my experience. They said, "Bye!"

Though they seemed confused as to whether what they personally defined as slash had been mainstream since the 70s or since the last twenty years (the person was 24), they were well-meaning. The panel was great. I'd recommend it to anyone, though I'm not stating the name of the con here because I don't want anyone involved to feel this is really a critique of the panel itself. The moderator in particular was superb.

I think that this conversation just brought up a whole lot of feelings for me. I think it bothers me that people still think that all fanfic is smutty, that all slash requires porn, and that all fic must have porn in order to be read. I am familiar with this conflation and feel perfectly fine going to a panel that I think is about slash fic and finding out it's about erotic lit, some of which is fanfic. After all, I like both, and I recognize that fandom mushes these things together and teasing them out into separate strands isn't something everyone--or possibly even most fans--have any interest in. I recognize that I am pedantic to a degree that most people find uninteresting.

I have a little bit more of a problem with the idea that slash is "basically the same" as het, but this was said by only one of the panelists. If your panel is actually about straight up erotica and not slash, then the problem is just the name of the panel.

What I found the most frustrating, however, is that whenever I have this conversation, I feel like the default assumption most of my interlocutors begin AND end with is this: smut is why we're here. And I just don't understand that. Away Childish Things has 44,800 kudos, and it has no smut in it. My next most kudosed fic has almost 15,000 kudos and tons of smut. My next most kudosed fic has almost 14,000 kudos and it doesn't even have a kiss.

I'm not talking about kudos to show off how many I have, or because I think kudos make a point about quality of a fic. They have nothing to do with quality. But they do have to do with popularity, and the truth is, sex doesn't sell. It's something else. It's not good writing. It's not a great plot. It's not in-character characterization. IT'S SOMETHING ELSE. What is it?

I've had people say to me, "Well, you're lettered; it works differently for you." DOES IT??? Maybe they meant that because enough people know me as fic author, people will read my fic anyway, but let me tell you, it's always been this way for me, long before my fic was really popular. The ones with smut did not get more praise and attention. The ones that PEOPLE LIKED got more praise and attention. Do people like fic that has smut in it more than fic without smut? Some of the time! Does there have to be smut for people to like it? NO.

Have I had people tell me they didn't want to read something I wrote because it didn't have smut? YES. But the point I'm trying to make is, there are people who want to read fic that doesn't have smut in it. THEY are your audience for the fic you want to write that doesn't have smut in it. Fic does not have to have smut to be fic; it doesn't have to have smut to be read.

I think part of the reason I get so upset about it is that slash as we know it today didn't just emerge because some people weren't getting to read smut and they wanted to. It emerged because women and queer people and other marginalized communities were not getting to see what they wanted to in mainstream media. They weren't getting sex scenes, but they also weren't getting queer content, they weren't getting stories about sensitive men that defied patriarchal stereotypes of male toxicity; they weren't getting stories about disabled folks and people of color and folks who are into kink and folks who have different lifestyles. To reduce fanfic to porn is to remove the rich history of why it exists and who it exists for.

I asked earlier what makes a fic popular, and to me, it's exactly this. It's when you read a thing and you feel, "this is really satisfying to my id in a way that I am not getting from mainstream media." And sometimes what is satisfying to your id is very horny anal sex. Other times what is satisfying to your id is Bucky Barnes getting a blanket and facing his trauma. Sometimes it's Harry Potter being trans. Sometimes it's Naruto and Sasuke getting to just hold hands as the sun sets. I have no idea who those two people are but boy howdy do I know they just fucking need to hold hands.

But the other reason I get so upset about it is I'm so fucking tired of reading a great fic that devolves into mediocre mechanical porn that is there due to the collective brainwashing that states that this is the ONLY reason ALL of us are here.

Discuss.

[caesium-55]

—seven days. [ vi.i ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore

author's note: i dunno if this is good cuz i have to delete a lot of scenes to make everything fit djsjjj. AND pls listen to two weeks notice by leanna firestone. 🐝 anon shared it to me and AAAAAAAHHH it captures the main vibe of the fic

masterlist.

"New shoes?”

The shoes come in black and it features a sleek silhouette with a pointed toe and a golden heel that is shaped as the letters Y, S, and L. Max is no expert in shoes but he knows how to recognize a luxury shoe if he sees one.

“Pretty lil things, aren't they?” you bring your foot forward to flaunt it.

Max doesn't know if it’s the heels that makes your feet look pretty or if the heels look pretty because you have pretty feet. Contrary to popular belief, Max does not have a feet kink. He just knows how to appreciate the aesthetics of a body part.

“Three years of savin’ and I finally got ‘em.”

“Good for you?” Is that an appropriate thing to say to a woman who just bought nice-looking shoes?

Max sees Daniel hug you after the Azerbaijan GP. You have twinning smiles on your face. Max's curiosity grows. You pull away from the hug and wave goodbye, returning to the garage, to where Max is standing and waiting for you.

“What did you and Daniel talk about?” he asks and if he sounds like he’s demanding, he doesn't mean it.

You stop walking, finally noticing Max's presence. The smile on your face fades a little but it doesn't completely disappear. “Oh, hi? Congrats on the podium today, big guy.”

“What were you and Daniel talking about?” Max asks again.

“‘s not important.”

“I want to know.”

You give Max an odd look, probably questioning why he wants to know so badly. He doesn't know why either. He just wants to know.

“Renault has an open spot in their engineering team,” you finally say, smile growing wide. You’re literally vibrating in excitement as you say it.

Max feels like someone just poured a bucket of iced water over his body.

“Engineer? Why would you even apply in Renault’s engineering team?” he sees your face shift and he wonders if his question is offensive. It does not seem like it is. For Max anyway.

“I’m an engineer, Max,” you're gritting your teeth, Max notices.

Oh, Max realizes. This was why Christian mentioned moving her to the engineering team. He thought you’re going to be their manager or something. Do engineers get managers, too? Max doesn't know.

Max’s world shifts off its axis when he realizes the bigger meaning carried by your words. You want to leave.

“No.”

You make a weird face, “No?”

“No, stay.”

He is perfectly aware that he is in no position to ask this of you. If you want to be an engineer and chase your dreams, you can. No one has the right to stop you. That's your dream. That's your life.

But do you really need to leave?

Suddenly, this becomes like the Daniel situation all over again.

Max isn't sure the exact time you begin holding this much importance over his life that he’s suddenly afraid of your absence. Max still won't consider the two of you friends per se, but he does not want you in Renault. He wants you here, behind him, following him at all times. You don't have to follow Daniel to fucking Renault.

Renault just keeps taking everything from him. First, it’s Daniel, his best friend and teammate. Max will not allow himself to lose you over to Renault and their sucky cars.

“Funny how you think you got a say in this,” you do the thing where you shift your feet lightly so you’re facing Max fully, one hand on your waist while the other rests limp on your side, your head slightly tilts to the right. There's a bulge on your cheek, where your tongue is pressing inside it, and one of your brows is cocked.

“You don't have to go to Renault. You can stay here,” he adds and it almost sounds like he’s pleading.

“And what Max? Let all the money I spent in engineering school go to waste?”

“Do you not want to be my manager anymore?”

“No offense, buddy, but I’ll choose being an engineer.”

Fair point but Max is still hurt anyway. Why are people always leaving him? Is it that hard to choose him and love him? Is he not a good enough reason to stay? Maybe it's because he's not a world champion yet. Maybe it's because he's not someone praiseworthy yet.

“I will win next year. When I become a world champion, I’ll ask Horner to move you to the engineering team.”

Max hopes you believe him.

The 2019 season ends with Lewis Hamilton at the top. Valtteri Bottas is close behind him. After Bottas stands Max Verstappen.

He’ll understand if you're making your application letter to Renault at this very moment. And yet, you come knocking on his hotel door.

“You’re trashin’ the room again,” you say, not ask but say, when Max opens the door and this is like 2018 again when he trashed his entire hotel room for coming in fourth. You even wear the same clothes as last year—a Red Bull polo shirt and a black pencil skirt with the same cream tote bag with peach prints but the shoes are different. “Sour loser much?”

“Fuck you.”

“Fuck you, too,” you reply in a nonchalant tone, not even taking offense that Max has cursed you out. “Lemme see your hands. I have a cold canned beer.”

“I didn't punch the wall.”

Not yet at least. He’s definitely planning to, before you have decided to knock on his door.

“Well then,” you thrust the beer towards him. “Good thing’s beer has multiple purposes. Bruised knuckles? Beer. Bruised ego? Beer.”

Angrily, Max takes the beer in your hands. He really can't deal with you right now.

“Don't worry, man. You’ll be world champion one day. You have the makings of one,” you assure him and your words are too unexpected that Max stiffens. “Not this year but one day.”

“Why can't it be this year?” he asks after a few seconds' pause.

You shrug your shoulders, “Not your time yet, I suppose.”

Then, you turn around and walk away, the loud clicks of your black and gold heels echoing in the hotel hallway until it fades into silence, while Max stands there at the open door, a cold canned beer in his hand.

He’s trying (emphasis on the word trying) to prepare himself snacks so he can eat while sim-racing. It's the off-season right now and his mother and his sister have decided to visit his place in Monaco and stay for a few days before they fly together to Belgium and spend the holidays there. Daniel’s name appears on the notification bar of Max’s phone.

daniel: is [name] in monaco rn or did she go home for the off season

max: why would she be in monaco right now

daniel: she lives there

max: [name] lives in monaco?

daniel: you didn't know??

daniel: she’s been living there since last year

daniel: ever wondered why she comes by our building a lot?

max: how am i supposed to know

daniel: she's your manager

max: well we don't exactly talk about where we live

daniel: i cant believe you

daniel: shes been living there since she was my manager

max: that long???

daniel: i cant with you sometimes

daniel: neways do u have her number?

daniel: i think she got it changed a month ago and i forgot to ask her

daniel: she's not answering my messages in ig

max: yeah yeah i do

daniel: great

daniel: can u call her and ask if she’s in the country?

max: ok

daniel: cool cool

daniel: appreciate it,, man

You answer the phone on the second ring.

“Need anythin’, man?”

When will he hear you call him Max rather than man, dude, bro, big guy, big boy, darlin’ (teasingly), or loser?

“Hi [Name]. I’m calling because, uh, Daniel messaged me,” he begins. “He said you’re not replying to his messages on Instagram.”

“Oh, my bad, my bad. I’ll check it out later, still out playin’ ball right now.”

“He’s asking if you're in Monaco right now.”

“Yeah, yeah, I am. Flight’s still next week. Why’s he askin’?”

“Okay,” he doesn't know what else is there to say. “I didn't even know you live in Monaco.”

“Well, I do,” he hears someone yelling your name. “Aight, anythin’ else you wanna know?”

“Nothing. Nothing else.”

“Okay. Stay safe out there, my guy.”

“You, too.”

The call ends and suddenly, the world feels too silent.

max: yeah she's here

max: she said her flight is scheduled next week

daniel: perfect

daniel: i have her christmas gift with me rn she better be there when i land

daniel: i have to wrap this up on the plane

daniel: do you know how hard it is to gift wrap smth during a flight

Max’s brows furrow. Perhaps he has underestimated the depth of their friendship. They're close enough that they give each other gifts. Or at least, she’s close with Daniel enough that he buys her gifts.

max: safe travels daniel

Daniel arrives a day later, which coincidentally is the same day Sophie, Max’s mother, and Victoria, his sister, landed in Monaco as well. Max’s mother adores Daniel, which is not surprising because everyone adores Daniel.

“Join us for lunch, Daniel,” Sophie invites him. Max and Victoria stand behind her. The three of them are heading out for lunch when they come across Daniel, who is also heading out, at the lobby of the apartment building.

“Sorry, Sophie, but I have an appointment today with [Name],” Daniel scratches his nape and smiles apologetically. Sophie perks up at the mention of [Name].

“Max’s manager?”

“Yes, Max’s manager,” Daniel nods enthusiastically.

“Invite her, too! I’ve always wanted to meet her. She sounds like an amazing girl from what Max has told me.”

Max groans, “Mom, please.”

He may or may not have talked about [Name] during his calls with his mother. Mostly, it's complaints. His mother has laughed at him, used to hee son's constant complaining. Despite that, she still thinks [Name] is good for her son. It's good that someone is able to rein you in when needed, she said.

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll love it. How about I call her and we’ll meet you at the restaurant in a few?” Daniel says.

Everything is settled. Max has reserved a private room for the whole lunch meeting so he can enjoy the privacy of lunch with his family. Less than an hour later, you arrive with Daniel.

Max almost drops the fork when he sees you walking towards them, just a few steps behind the grinning Daniel.

You look different than usual. Max is yet to decide if it's a good type of different or not, because when his eyes land on you, he feels like a thousand elephants have begun a violent rampage in his chest.

You’re not wearing the usual Red Bull polo shirt—perhaps that's why Max feels odd because he’s so used to seeing you wearing it—and instead, you were in a bustier jumpsuit with a white long-sleeved button-up shirt under it.

It looks a little too tight in Max’s opinion, hugging your body in a way that Max thinks you cannot breathe. He can't even breathe when he looks at you right now.

Daniel and you stop in front of the table and Max’s mother stands to kiss you both on the cheek. Max then notices that you’re carrying two bouquets in your hand. Funny how they're so huge and colorful but for some reason, he hasn't noticed them since you walked into the room.

“For you, Ma’am,” you smile as you hand the bouquet to Max’s mother, who gasps in delight. “Welcome to Monaco.”

Then, you turn to Victoria and hand her the other bouquet, “For you, too, Miss Victoria. Welcome to Monaco.”

“Please, have a seat, you two. We’ve already ordered for you," Max's mother says. You and Daniel sit down.

You and Daniel quickly engage in conversation with Max’s mother. Victoria elbows Max, leaning over his ear to whisper, “You have a good manager, Max.”

“You just like her because she got you flowers," Max whispers back.

Victoria chuckles and the Verstappen siblings join in the conversation.

Lunch is a pleasant event. Everyone loves the food. Everyone laughs. Everyone is having a good time. However, good things always come to an end. Daniel has to leave early because he has an appointment. Max is supposed to drive Victoria and his mother to the department store because they planned on shopping together as a family and buy gifts for their relatives in Belgium. But since Daniel left and he was your ride going to the restaurant, that means you have no ride going home.

You insist that you can hail a cab or even walk to your apartment since it’s “just three streets away” but Max notices that your smile looks too forced and Max calls bullshit. Max may not know where you live but he knows you're lying. Thankfully, his mother seems to share the same sentiments and push you towards Max.

“Don't worry, honey. He’s a good driver. You're in safe hands.”

“I’m really fine, Ma’am,” you try again.

“Call me Sophie,” she says, her hand comes up to your shoulder and you flinch a little. “You take good care of Max. It's the least he can do for you. Also, I’m a woman, honey. I know the pain of walking a good distance in heels. Don't subject yourself to that pain.”

You don't protest any further and the four of you hop into Max’s car. Max drives Sophie and Victoria to a department store and drops them off. He kisses his mother’s cheek as they bid a temporary goodbye. Afterwards, he instructs you to type down your address on the GPS so he can drive you to where you live.

When he reads the address you input, he snorts. You whip your head around to give him a dirty look.

“Three streets down,” he says, amused. “Really?”

“Shut up, ‘s just on the other side of the city.”

“It's still far.”

The first few minutes of the drive is silent. You sit on the passenger seat with your earbuds in and legs crossed, leaning most of your weight against the car door so your back posture sort of resembles a person with mild scoliosis. Max hears you hum along the song you’re listening to, your fingers tapping along the rhythm.

Max taps your shoulder. You turn to him, pulling off one of your earbuds.

“Somethin’ wrong?” you ask.

Why do you always assume something's wrong when he calls your attention? Does he really only talk to you when he has a problem?

Max gestures to the AUX, “You can connect your phone to my car.”

You gasp dramatically, a hand pressing on your chest, “You’re givin’ me AUX privilege? Truly honored.”

Max rolls his eyes.

“But I don't think you’ll like what I listen to,” you add.

“Try me.”

El Alfa songs have electrifying and infectious rhythms and Max may not understand the lyrics but not understanding the song lyrics can't stop a person from enjoying a song. El Alfa songs are the type of songs that you’ll hear in parties and in the streets.

“By the way,” Max begins. The song changes into something else—Sofia, the title reads, sung by Alvaro Soler. It's a whole different vibe from the previous song. “Thank you for giving my mum and sister flowers today. That was very thoughtful of you.”

“Just trynna be nice,” you say nonchalantly. “Glad they liked it.”

“Also, you look nice today.”

You slowly turn to him. You have this weird expression on your face like you have an aneurysm but also indigestion and mild stroke.

“Did you eat somethin’ weird at the restaurant?”

“No, I didn't.”

“Then why are you playin’ nice?”

Max rolls his eyes, “I can punch you if you want.”

“Yeah, right, as if you can. Your mother raised you too well to throw hands to the ladies.”

Max closes his mouth.

“See? I’m right,” you continue. “You’ll fight any man on the grid but you won't fight me even though I annoy you every day. You're not like your father, Max.”

Max clears his throat awkwardly. He does not know how to respond to you. You're too… too… honest.

“But thank you,” you say. “Borrowed this from my roomie ‘cuz I don't own any nice clothes.”

You wear branded clothing way too well for someone to think otherwise.

The song switches. Danza Kuduro starts playing. Max knows this one. He watched Fast Five.

Max stops the car outside the apartment building, but instead of hopping off, you rummage through your tote bag—still the cream-colored one with peach prints, it looks so worn down now—and pull out a….it looks like a beaded bracelet but it's not closed on the ends.

“What's this?” he asks when you hand it to him. Red and navy blue beads—the color of Red Bull.

“Consider this as my gift for the holidays. I made Daniel one so it makes sense that I give you one as well.”

Oh. Max blinks at you then glances down at the little thing in his palm. Something warm blooms in Max’s heart.

“That's very thoughtful of you.”

Panic follows. His head snaps up.

“But I haven't bought you anything.”

“That's okay, man,” you smile and open the door. “Thanks a lot for today.”

You step outside and close the door after you before Max can even utter another word. Max watches as you jog inside the building. He shakes his head when you disappear from his vision, hangs the beaded keychain with his keys, and drives back to where he drops his mother and sister off earlier.

Sophie notices the keychain and compliments it. She asks his son if he got into the hobby of creating things out of beads. Max shakes his head and tells her that the keychain is a gift from you.

His mother visibly lights up, “You should get her a gift!”

Max gets into thinking. Yeah, he should.

He meets you a day before your flight to Texas in the lobby of the building where you live. You gave him a keychain. It's only appropriate that he gives you keys. (You don't seem very happy with the gift though for God knows what reason but Max is adamant on giving it to you and will not stop at a no.

“I want you close,” he says, surprised by the sincerity that exited his mouth.

“Well, I don't.” Your words sting a little. Max ignores it.

He ends up giving you a different key. You say the other key is too expensive. Max is not thrilled but it's still a key and this certain key, you accept. So Max is happy.)

Max flies to Belgium a few days after you and celebrates the holidays with his mother's side of the family. He calls your cell in the middle of the night, Belgium is six hours ahead of Texas so Max is sure it's around four in the afternoon from where you are. He does not expect you to answer as quickly as you did.

“Somethin’ wrong?” your voice sounds rough like you’ve been asleep.

“Hi, uhm,” Max clears his throat. He’s a little tipsy right now and his words are flying around in his brain. “Happy holidays.”

There's a pause.

“You called me for that?”

“Can you stop being mean? It's the holidays.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Kinda?”

“Well then,” Max hears a ruffle of sheets and suddenly, he feels bad for waking you up. “Happy holidays to you, too, bud. Appreciate the effort and the money you spent on making this call. International calls are expensive as fuck.”

They're not. At least, Max thinks they're not.

“Can I get your Instagram? The one you use to talk to Daniel?”

“My priv? Why?”

“Because I just want it.”

“Brat. You can’t follow that account usin’ your public account. PR has access to your account and they’ll see my shit. I don't want them to see my shit.”

“Then, I’ll make a private account and we’ll follow each other.”

He hears you sigh.

“You promise not to give PR access to that account?”

“Hm. I promise.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever. Send me the details and I’ll follow you when I wake up, aight?”

Max giggles, “Okay.”

“Anythin’ else?”

“Nothing, nothing.”

“Aight, I’ll continue my nap. You enjoy yourself there.”

“Okay.”

Then, COVID happens.

[booksandabeer]

Celebrating 10 Years of CA:TWS — A Stucky Rec List

Rec list for the CA:TWS 10th Anniversary Event @catws-anniversary (thank you so much for organizing this event! 💙) | Prompt: Memories

10 years, huh? 10 years of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. 10 years of what many—myself included—still consider to be the best MCU movie ever made.

But also 10 years of post-TWS fanfiction. 10 years of Bucky Barnes Recovering and Steve Rogers' Sadness Errands; of Up All Night to Get Bucky and Revenge Road Trips; of Winter Soldier Trauma Umbrellas and Everybody Needing A Goddamn Hug; of Good Bros and Soft Epilogues. 10 years and tens of thousands of Steve/Bucky fics later, here we are.

So, to mark the occasion, let's take a trip down memory lane and celebrate the movie and the stories it inspired: One fic from each year since it all began:

There's really only one rule here: All fics are set before, during, or after the events of CA:TWS and/or reimagine its plot in interesting ways. Naturally, many of the fics on this list are post-TWS canon divergent, but I tried to go for a nice variety of length, genre, and popularity to keep it interesting. Speaking of popularity, this is very much not intended as a round-up of ‘most popular fics of each year’ because—and I say this with all the love and respect in my heart for those stories and their authors—nobody needs a rec list for that, and I believe in spreading the love. Here we go:

Poltergeists by enemyofrome | 17K, T

Author's summary: When the helicarriers blow up and the Winter Soldier goes on the run, he takes Steve with him. He's got a name written in Morse code on the inside of his arm, a ton of questions he doesn't know how to ask, and now, a new handler with absolutely zero sense of self-preservation to contend with. Life is hard. In which Bucky tries to figure out whether he's a human being, Steve does everything he can to keep from losing him again, and there are lots of explosions.

Starting off with one of the best versions of the 'Bucky didn't leave Steve, he took him with him after the Potomac' fics that were (and still are!) so popular post-TWS. This one stands out because of its fantastic beginning, its interesting take on how Bucky was broken and remade into the Winter Soldier, and because it allows both characters to be messy. It's a popular fanon trope that it's Steve who brings out a ruthless, almost vicious streak in Bucky, but here it's emphasized that this is very much a mutual thing. Just like Bucky, who's often afforded the "excuse" of still figuring out how to be a person again, Steve gets to be difficult here—without ever turning him into a stubborn asshole. They're both traumatized, and they're both allowed to show it and to lash out, including at each other. Also, this fic will give you capital-F Feelings about morse codes and apples. Believe me.

sleepwalk back to the battle site by ftmsteverogers | 22K, T

Author's summary: “I’m going to track down every HYDRA agent that’s left,” Bucky says, buckling his gun deftly to his belt. “And then I’m going to kill them.” “Oh,” Steve says. “Come with me?” Bucky asks, dangerous hands tucked into his pockets.

A classic post-TWS fic that picks up right after the movie ends. Equal parts Revenge Roadtrip, Bucky Barnes recovering, and Steve Rogers being in urgent need of a good hug. This starts out intensely melancholic—Steve's despair and helplessness are palpable and there's a scene involving a drinking glass that still brings tears to my eyes just thinking about it. Halfway through, the story changes pace and becomes much more action-heavy, but it still manages to allow space for the quiet, intimate moments between Steve and Bucky. They have both become sharp and deadly men, but they're also allowed to be soft with each other. Their coming together feels sweet and inevitable. I also really enjoyed the Steve characterization here. His absolute conviction that Bucky is still Bucky at his very core and always will be, but also his emotional and intellectual flexibility to adapt to this still-new-to-him, changed version of Bucky rang very true to me.   

Surveillance by Sproings, 7K in 2 parts, G

Author's summary: If there are ears everywhere, that means it's somebody's job to listen. I hate my job.

Do you ever think about how SHIELD bugged Steves DC apartment and how horrible that was, but also...you're kind of curious what they might have overheard? Do you ever wonder about the people who listened in on his sad, lonely life? Well, here you go. An outsider POV fic told "through the ears" of an unnamed SHIELD agent assigned to spy on the private life of a man who doesn't really have much of one. The story begins just before IM3 and takes us all the way through the events of CA:TWS and beyond. It's clever, original and told with great empathy for both the subject under surveillance and the person carrying out that surveillance—who increasingly questions its purpose. Here's a small snippet to give you an idea of the fic's style:

He got a phone call, once. He put it on speaker, too, which was very exciting for me at the time. It was from an archivist at the Smithsonian. They seemed really surprised that he answered his own phone calls. The two of them talked for a long time about an exhibit the museum was planning. A very long time. As if one of them was starstruck, and the other was desperate for any kind of human interaction.

What Gets You Through by velleities | 12K, M

Author's summary: For Steve, getting through each day is a process – one he’s currently failing at spectacularly. Feeling out of place in this brave new world, he hopes to find a home in Bucky, and looks for him with everything he’s got. But Bucky doesn’t want to be found, and when he does touch base with Steve, he never sticks around for long. Bucky has embraced the modern age, leaving Steve lagging behind – or so Steve believes, until Bucky shows him otherwise.

This post-TWS fic revolves around five encounters in liminal spaces, and each time Bucky has pieced himself back together again just a little more. Despite their increasingly longer and more honest conversations, and Bucky's incremental progress, he always disappears again, leaving Steve to grapple with his heartbreak. There are quietly gorgeous moments in this fic (the bus and the church in particular were my personal favorites) as well as wonderfully crafted characterizations. Bucky is initially portrayed as somewhat feral in some ways yet surprisingly well-adjusted in others, and I love that Steve can't help but be a little annoyed at that. However, it quickly becomes clear that, in good old Bucky Barnes fashion, much of it is really just a front put up for Steve's benefit...

A Real Boy by itsnotbleak | 5K, T

Author's summary: It took the Winter Soldier three weeks to remember that human beings needed to sleep and eat. It took Steve far too long to realise the Winter Soldier was sleeping in his bed.

A wonderful, short-but-doesn't-feel-like-it fic (in the very best way) set immediately after CA:TWS, in which Bucky secretly and then soon not so secretly visits Steve in his apartment. Follow along as Bucky Barnes argues with his brain about sandwich toppings, the importance of a good night's sleep, and the necessity of personal hygiene. Also: how to best go about becoming a real boy (again). And who the hell is that Bucky guy anway? This is as soft and sweet a Bucky recovery fic as you're ever going to find. It's funny but not silly; sad in a way that all of these stories inherently are—because, well, these are some tragic boys—but not super angsty or depressing. A beautiful story with a lovely, hopeful ending.

Savage God by PottersPink | 36K, M

Author's summary (abbr.): Past, present, future, Steve knows Bucky Barnes. It’s why he recognized him when he found him in that alley in April of 1942, even though Bucky was older, stronger, wearier; he called himself The Asset, and had a metal fucking arm. He flinched when Steve tried to touch him, and when Steve told him he loved him, his first response was to ask why. Seventy years later, Steve wakes up in the twenty-first century, and he doesn’t know whether to be heartbroken or hopeful when some of the things Bucky revealed to him in 1942 start falling into place.

An absolutely riveting AU that will have you on the edge of your seat the whole time. I'm itching to talk about it more but I cannot since it would mean spoiling the hell out of it. What I can say is that it's a very intriguing and clever exploration of what would happen if Steve knew about the future but without really knowing any of the details. How would it change the events of CA:TFA and CA:TWS, and how would it change Steve himself? I so very much appreciate this characterization of Steve as smart, competent, and unwavering with a hefty dose of no fucks left to give. This fic features some really nifty time travel and plotting, great action sequences and a very satisfying ending where certain people get their much-deserved comeuppance. Plus: Bonus Shrinkyclinks (kind of)!

Charlie Lock by seapigeon | 105K, M (hard M)

Author's summary (abbr.): The Winter Soldier knows that sometimes, in order to make the kill, you must destroy what the Target lives for. Steve Rogers knows that he can't fight his captors. If he fights, they'll kill Bucky. But the price of his life is steep. Tony Stark has nothing left to live for, but he's needed. So all these miserable motherfuckers better stay alive, too. Clint Barton never expected to be a leader. But a leader he is, and no one else is going to die on his watch. --- A story in which the first wave of Project Insight succeeds, and the Avengers must pick up the pieces and find a way to stop Hydra from completing its work with Zola's algorithm.

This is not only the longest fic on this list, but also the angstiest one—by a mile, so please heed the tags. It's dark, disturbing, and brutal. However, it is neither relentless misery porn nor is it shocking for shock's sake, where everything is magically forgotten and/or healed the moment Steve and Bucky start kissing. Instead, the author puts these characters into an absolutely horrifying situation and then slowly, gently guides them out of it and into the light.

It's a Stucky fic but it's also a multi-POV ensemble piece featuring all the Avengers and other familiar faces. If you are someone who'll always be a little bitter about the unfulfilled promise of an Avengers found family, then this is for you. In this AU, they do not only fight together, but grow together in every way. They truly become a team, not just co-workers barely tolerating each other. The story takes its time exploring the characters and the group dynamics. Steve and Bucky are definitely at the center of the narrative but there is space here for every member of the team to grieve and adjust to the new reality and to find at least some measure of healing. It's a story about the meaning and the consequences of revenge, about hope and resilience, and about love in all its many forms. It also has one of the most satisfying title drops that will have you pump your fist in triumph when it happens. It's a tough read, but ultimately a very rewarding one.

SPELEVINK by Ginny_Potter | 10K, G

Author's summary: Bucky’s back. He’s leaving me messages through IKEA plushies, Steve texts Sam. jesus christ, rogers, Sam texts back. Or, Bucky lives in an IKEA Tiny Apartment, Steve is a dancing monkey once again, and somehow they find their way back to each other.

This is an absolute DELIGHT of a fic that will have you alternately laughing out loud and crying quietly into your SVARTFIBBLA blanket (super-soft, recycled polyester, 47x63"). It's ‘crack treated seriously’ at its very best and a clear homage to the fandom classic Infinite Coffee… (that’s not a dig or a spoiler, the author says so in the author’s note).

Now if you know me, you’ll know that angst o’clock is my happy hour and I’m usually not very into these heavy-on the-humor quasi-absurdist fics (because I’m super special and not like all the other girls, obviously). But. I LOVED this story so, so much. It’s such a fun read—even when it makes you cry—and it really became one of those ‘huh, I guess I’m into this after all’ moments of joyful (self)discovery via fanfic for me. I never thought a pair of oven mitts could move me like that, and I'll never be able to walk into an IKEA again without muttering "F******!" under my breath (iykyk). Absolutely fantastic.

a handful of dust by RecoveringTheSatellites | 20K, M

Author's summary: Steve looks for Bucky for a long time. But the thing is that Bucky doesn't get found, Bucky finds. Bucky always finds Steve. This takes a hard left after the Potomac and stumbles through the dark a lot after. Take a bit of running, the occasional synaptic misfire, the resurfacing of old memories, a dash or two of PTSD, and (eventually) a nice dose of action, stir, and serve over some unresolved issues.

Honestly, the second paragraph up there perfectly sums up the story. It's a good ol' fashioned Bucky recovery fic with some angst, some action, and a whole lot of healing and devotion. Steve and Bucky get to be very sappy about each other, but also extremely Badass Battle Boyfriends™ when somebody threatens their hard-won happiness. Both are allowed to be messy, unstable, and very co-dependent.

This was the first time this author played in the Stucky sandbox and I mean it 100% as a compliment when I say that you can tell. This is someone with "fresh legs" diving headfirst and very deep into the Stucky trope pool and they're doing it with great relish and enthusiam. The result is a story that rejects some of the tried and true conventions of the post-TWS fanfic canon and lovingly embraces others, but that is definitely aware of and in dialogue with the body of work that came before it. Also, it's just a really fun read that gives these two the very soft ending they deserve.

Everybody is Supposed to be Dead by pollutedstar | 22K, M

Author's summary: In 1944, Bucky Barnes falls off a train into the Alps, missing and presumed dead. Months later, Steve Rogers nosedives a plane into the arctic. In 2010, the Winter Soldier project is uncovered by S.H.I.E.L.D., and Bucky Barnes is found alive. Three years later, Steve Rogers’ frozen body is found in the ocean.

A really interesting AU and a fascinating exploration of what could’ve been; the impact it would’ve had on the events and characters if Bucky had been the one to be “found” first. How would it affect Steve to come back into a world where he isn’t quite so lonely and adrift, and where he does have the relief and reassurance of having Bucky by his side and at his back? How would that have changed the way he acted and reacted to this strange new world and the people and organizations trying to recruit him to their cause even though the ice hasn't even completely melted off his body yet?

There are a lot of astute and precise observations about characters like Tony, Natasha, and Clint in this story, and on top of that, it offers up some very compelling insights into Steve's conflicted and difficult relationship with his role as Captain America.

it's never over (hey orpheus) by romcommie | 12K WIP, 2/?, M

Author's summary: He remembers a song first and then everything else follows, burying him below. Or, Bucky Barnes pieces a life back together with a few choice verses, some duct tape and seventy years worth of spite. Steve Rogers tries very hard to relearn there's a life to be lived in the first place.

Ok, listen up, people! This is a WIP and there are only 2 chapters posted so far, but I haven't felt this absolutely bonkers excited about a post-CA:TWS fic in a long while. We're talking frothing at the mouth here. I have such a massive crush on this fic, it's a bit embarrassing, really. It's one of those fics where you know after just a few paragraphs that you're in very good, very competent hands. The wealth of historical and cultural detail; the way the story shifts/flips/flickers back and forth between time, perspective and narrative levels; the Bucky voice—it's all so well done! I'm so insanely excited to see where the author takes this!

ENJOY!

[kenslilove]

᯽៰ ͘ ࣭⸰ 𖥔 ͙ࣳ Who’s Little Sister?! Pt.2

preview: You called him your boyfriend? Why would you do that? Draken isn't sure he's cut out to be the boyfriend to Takemichi's precious little sister...

ft. Ken "Draken" Ryuuguji x fem!reader

wc. 9kish... help 🫠🤪😰😵‍💫🥴🤡

W. NFSW 18+ MINORS DNI, age gap (Draken is in his late 20’s and owns the bike shop, reader is in their early 20’s in university), fem reader (takemichi’s little sister), crybaby/bimbo reader, angsty in the middle, Draken is very insecure of his ability to be in a relationship, slight exhibitionism (Draken fucks you while on call), multiple cream pies, messy make-outs, oral (m!receiving), mating press, squirting, lots of praise, aftercare, lots of pet names, it gets soft and passionate at the end 🥹🥹

an. The long-awaited part 2 of “Who’s Little Sister.” I put my heart, soul, and pussy into this piece. I think it's my favourite thing I've ever written in all honesty, it very much encapsulates how I think Draken’s and I’s relationship would start. God, I love him so much. It’s also the first time I've written anything remotely angsty though, and I can’t tell if it's lame or not LMFAO. Please, let me know what you think. I'm so very happy to be reposting this piece on this blog to share with yall, it’s literally so important to me <33 and I’m so so happy this is the fic that is bringing back my writing spark! Part 3 will hopefully be even better than this 🙏🏼🤭 Constructive feedback, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. 

extra note: Listen to “Nothings gonna hurt you baby.” By Cigarettes After Sex during the last scene. It’s Kenny’s and I’s selfship song and help inspired me for the ending <33

tagging: @enchantedforest-network @eveningatthemoviesnetwork and @shoyosdoll bc you've been such a supporter of this fic hehe <33 i hope you love part 2 as much as part 1 <33

“Draken-Kun, are you coming tonight?” 

There was silence on Draken’s end of the phone as all the other males on-call waited for a response. Mikey was the first one to say something back, annoyance clear in his tone as he spoke directly into the receiver, making his voice sound much louder than necessary. 

“Oi, Ken-Chin, get off the phone if you’re just gonna ignore us.” 

“Sorry–” Draken finally responded, his voice seeming just a bit more… strained than usual. Not enough for the boys to notice until he grunted softly, what seemed to be creaking or something muffled in the background of his audio call. 

“You good, dude?” Mitsuya piped up, his own voice a little muffled due to a sewing needle between his lips but nothing like Draken’s. 

“Oh yea, fuckin peachy–” Draken breathed in response, his huff coming out as a soft laugh when a bit of sweat started to roll down his temple. 

If he was being honest, he wasn’t really paying attention to the call, how could he, when you, Takemichi’s precious little sister was underneath him, sprawled out and trembled as his cock drilled into you at a steady pace. You were biting down on your bottom lip so hard, Draken swore that blood would free itself soon from the delicate flesh, your eyes screwed shut as your pretty chest bounced with each thrust of his hips. You were trying so hard for him to be quiet, just like he instructed as soon as he picked up the phone. The attempt was adorable, considering how vocal you usually were for him. 

But Draken was twisted, he knew that deep down, so he just couldn’t help himself when he angled his hips just right so his cock head would jab right into that gummy sweet spot within your walls. You yelped, pleasure shooting up your spine, only for the sound to be cut off by the smack of Draken’s free palm clamping over your mouth. 

“Who has a girl over~?” Baji piped up, suddenly very much interested in the conversation. Draken laughed shallowly into his receiver, his hand tightening up along your jaw as he continued to ram into the spot that made you see stars. You couldn’t even control your babbles when he did this, an endless stream of whimpers and sobs being muffled into his palm as you held onto his wrist for dear life. 

“Gotta go, Text me what time I needa be there–” Draken didn’t wait for a response from his friends. Instead, he hung up quickly, abandoning the device somewhere on the bed. When he released the hold on your mouth you whined at him, the tears finally spilling from your eyes. 

“K-Kenny, Kenny please– Please–!” 

“So fuckin loud pretty, all the damn time,” Draken says it with a grin, easily manhandling your thighs over his shoulders so he can fuck into you deeper. He presses a kiss to your ankle, right beside the anklet he bought you as your pussy flutters so desperately around his cock. 

“O-Oh! Please, Ken–!”

“Please what?” Draken grunts, his hips slapping up against yours ruthlessly now as his release comes dangerously close. He knew you weren’t far behind. Had learned your signs very early on. Your toes would curl, your eyes would get foggy, chest stuttering. Your pussy would milk him so tight and leave rings of arousal on his cock. 

And he loved every second of it. 

“Wanna cum, needa cum again–!” you pleaded with him, nails digging into the muscles of his flexing biceps. He nodded in agreement, his own voice becoming hoarse due to the sheer squeeze of your pussy. Although his pace started to get sloppy he still fucked into you, one hand slithering between your sweaty bodies in order to massage ruthlessly at your clit. 

“Go on then, cum, make a fuckin mess f’me gorgeous.” He breathes, licking his lips when you throw your head back with a cry. The mess you make on his cock is breathtaking, arousal squirting from your used hole and dousing his hand, wrist and abs. He swears under his breath at the borderline painful grip your pussy has on his cock when you finish, one final thrust allowing him to spill ropes of cum right up against your cervix. 

Draken’s trembling when he falls onto his elbows over you, his breath coming out a bit shaky as his cock still twitches within your walls in the aftermath of both of your highs. He starts pressing wet, opened-mouthed kisses along your neck and face to help you come too, a soft chuckle leaving his lips when you whine softly. 

“You okay baby?” His voice is a whisper, and as the energy slowly comes back to you he smooths his palm over your cheek, thumb swiping under your eye to pick up leftover tears. You nod, one of your trembly hands lazily dragging through his black locks of hair. “Mhm, m’good, Kenny. Help me sit up?” He does, one big palm on the back of your neck to help you to sit up against the headboard. 

He presses a smooch to your lips before easing himself out of you, both of you wincing softly from the loss of contact. It’s only when he pulls out completely and his softening cock falls against his thigh that he realises just how big of a mess the two of you made of yourself and the sheets. It makes him swell with pride, a grin slowly curling on his lips. 

You’ve come a long way, from the sweet girl who was just learning to cream on his cock to the messes you’ve made on his bed on the daily. 

“M’gunna get a cloth.” He says, handing you a glass of water and your phone as soon as he stands to keep you occupied. His muscles are still a bit tingly as he stands, arms stretching up and above his head as he heads towards the bathroom. 

“Nice butt!” You call out, making him snort softly as he stands before the bathroom mirror. He can’t help but admire the marks you’ve littered across his neck and chest, the cute little bruises reminding him of the shape of your puckered lips. He then examines the nail marks you’ve left along his forearms and shoulders, some of the red pathways breaking in the middle to show little droplets of blood. Lastly, he sighs dreamily at the sheen of your arousal that coats his pelvis, a ring of white still layered at his base. 

Man knew he was in heaven. 

When he came back to the bedroom after tidying himself a bit, as well as with a cloth in hand you were on the phone with someone, giggling into the receiver and looking up at Draken with a playful glint in your eye. 

“I’ll actually meet with you later, m’with my boyfriend right now~” Despite the way your giggling increased and you squealed to your friend about how you’ve mentioned him before with such excitement, Draken was anything but that. 

His chest tightened up, crease forming between his brow. Boyfriend? When did that become his title? 

“Kennnnnny~” You snapped him out of his thoughts, though his brows stayed furrowed. “Hurry! The mess is only getting bigger over here.”

One hand was planted on the mattress as he gently wiped the dampened towel over your pussy and thighs, your hand coming to cover his, making him pause in your tracks. “Shouldn’t scowl so much, handsome.” You murmur it gently, thumb gently smoothing between his brows in an attempt to fix the crinkles there. “You’ll get wrinkles~”

“You called me your boyfriend–” His voice was blunt, which took you by slight surprise. A little pout formed on your swollen lower lip as you subconsciously squeezed at his wrist. 

“Well, yea–”

“We haven’t talked about that.” He was still being blunt as ever, so much so it almost startled you, made you feel much smaller under him as he sat up on his hunched, throwing the soiled cloth into the laundry bin. 

“I-I know…” You simply muttered, chest started to feel tight as you watched just how serious his face had become. He was tugging his strands of black hair into a low bun when you sat up a bit more, fingers gently brushing over his chest. “But I just thought, thought that we were together…”

And it wasn’t wrong for you to think that way. Ever since that first night at Draken’s apartment the two of you had been secretly hanging out. You went out to restaurants, and the local arcade took his bike to the mountainside and watched the sunset. The two of you had bought little things for one another, like the gold anklet that sat pretty on your ankle and the hello kitty keychain that was currently attached to his bike keys. You even made sure to turn off your location so Takemichi couldn’t see just how often you were having sleepovers at Draken’s place. 

You two did the things that couples did together. You two did the things that you saw Takemichi and Hina do on the regular. Dare you even say, you did things with Draken that he and Emma used to do–

Plus, he was fucking you every chance he got. 

“Well, maybe you shoulda thought about talkin to me about it first before you go squealing that I’m your boyfriend.” His tone was harsher than he wanted it to be, a tone he usually used with his friends but never really with you. It had you suck in a soft breath, suddenly feeling very exposed curled up in nothing but his bedsheets. 

“You don’t have to be so mean–” 

“M’not being mean, I’m being realistic. It ain’t cute to just assume I’m your boyfriend when we haven’t talked about anything official.” He was off the bed now, tugging up his boxers. When you didn’t respond he sighed. “We hang out and fuck around, why do we need to be more than–” 

When he turned around again to look you in the eye his own voice caught in his throat. Your eyes had gotten wide, a glossy layer of tears hiding the usual beautiful shine your gaze held. Your lower lip was trembling softly, fingers clutching onto the covers so tightly he noticed how your knuckles turned white. 

“Hey–” 

“M’gunna go.” You interrupted, the crack in your tone only making his heart plummet harder in his chest. As you got to your feet, his blanket securely wrapped around you he grabbed both your shoulders. 

“Hey, don’t be like that (Y/N), you don’t even have a ride–” 

“Gunna call Michi.” You slipped out of his grasp by tucking yourself out from under his hands, bending to grab at your clothes scattered across the ground. 

“Like hell you are. We’re not telling him about us, remember what happened last time?” Draken could still hear the boy's ruthless comments after that first night, the crack of Baji’s fist against his jaw– 

“Don’t care, wanna go home.” Your muttering had gotten softer, ready to slip into the bathroom and shut the door right in his face. 

“Would you stop being such a brat?” Draken grabbed at your arm this time, tugging it back towards him. He himself hadn’t expected it to be so forceful, the little squeak you released and the falling of tears instantly making him let go of you. You both stared at each other a little shocked, Draken’s breath froze in his throat and his fingertips went a bit cold as you looked at him. 

Teary-eyed, shrunken in. Scared. Were you scared of him? 

Without a word, you finally went into the bathroom, and it was only then that Draken let out his frustrated breath, cheeks feeling hot as he clenched his fists up at his sides. Fuck, what the fuck was happening right now. He hated this nonsense, hated just how frustrated he felt, hated that look on your face, hated that he couldn’t even really understand what emotions were running through his head. 

Why was he mad anyway? Why was any of this really a big deal? 

He used his own phone to call you a cab, knowing you wouldn’t actually call Takemichi to pick you up. You had also gotten an ear full after getting caught, and as much as you trusted your brother, the last thing you needed right now was a lecture. You stayed locked in the bathroom until Draken gave the wood a gentle knock with his knuckles. 

“Cabs here…” He murmured. You didn’t look at him when you walked out, eyes bloodshot and downcast and when slipped past him fully clothed. He watched from the ledge of his bed, jaw set rigid as you so casually adjusted your bag over your shoulder, now a little overfilled with the stuff you had started to accumulate in his bathroom. Something slipped from your fingertips onto his kitchen counter before you made a beeline for the door, Draken only getting up when it closed firmly behind you. 

He approached slowly, that odd feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach seeming to grow, expanding into his chest as he noticed the subtle twinkle on the countertop. It was the anklet he bought you, dainty, gold, shiny, his initials hanging from the small tag. 

“Fuck—!“ His emotions boiled over into anger, face red when his fist connected with the drywall. A crack formed in the white fall, his knuckles taking on a deep purple almost instantly as he pulled his clenched fist back to his side. Instead, he let his forehead rest in the dent he just made, thoughts spiralling, making his heart pound in his chest. 

Had he really just done that? Made a big deal over nothing? Put his hands on you? And for what? 

You called him your boyfriend… was that really… so wrong? 

Was he really so set on “not being a sister fucker”, did he really care so much about what the boys thought, what people said about him, that he was willing to let you go? 

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed leaned up against the wall like that, thoughts running wildly through his mind, making it pound. Eventually, when his eyes started to get sore, narrowing down in an attempt to hold back unwanted angry tears he moved back to his room to plop himself down into bed. And he didn’t get up for the rest of the evening. 

It had been a week. 

One whole week since you had left Draken’s apartment, and the two of you had not spoken since. Day three was when Draken caved and texted you, considering you had turned your location off for him so he couldn’t check up on you from time to time. 

“Are you okay? Please, we need to talk.” 

Radio silence. The message was left unread by you. He even sent another the day after, just a quick message but a little more firm than the last. 

“Don’t shut me out like this.” 

And still, nothing. It was killing Draken from the inside out. Each day that passed made him more anxious than the last. Were you okay? Did you hate him now? Were you crying to your brother? Draken couldn’t ask Takemichi about you, cause he didn’t even know you two were a thing in the first place. But every time he saw his black-haired friend his heart would stutter, tightening up in his chest. 

You laughed just like he did. Were you laughing right now? 

Draken had a bad habit of letting things like this consume him. Almost everything seemed to remind him of you or something the two of you had done and it was driving him a little crazy. And all because you had called him your boyfriend. 

All because Draken was afraid to commit to someone again despite his need to do so. All of his friends always thought he was so mature, and yet here he was, working through feelings that were staring him right in the face like some teenage boy. 

He kept his headphones in at the shop, his body hunched slightly on the stool he set up beside the bike he was currently repairing. The music was loud, drowning out not only the background noise but his thoughts that seem to repeat themselves over and over. His brows were slightly furrowed when he lifted from the busted engine only a moment, just enough to wipe away excess sweat that built up on his brow. 

That’s when he caught a glimpse of you. It made his heart pause mid-beat, breath hitching in his throat. He caught the last bits of you as you rounded the corner that led up the stairs, probably in search of Takemichi But that didn’t matter. 

Draken found himself scurrying from his seat, the stool skidding from under him as he was quick to follow suit. With long strides, he made it to the stairs and there you were, hand on the railing, one of those cute little skirts he loved hugging your waist just right. He called out to you, twice actually, quickly pulling his headphones from his ears when you actually turned to look at him. 

“Hey–” 

“I won’t be long.” You simply responded, voice sounding much too sad for Draken’s liking. He noticed how your hand tensed up on the railing when he approached and it made him frown. “I’m just grabbing something for Michi–”

“I wanna talk to you.” He took another step, a tentative one. He hated how your eyes were already getting a little glassy. “Let’s just talk, sweetheart.”

“Don’t wanna talk, Ken.” There was that familiar shake in your tone, the one he had become very aware of. You were just like your brother in so many ways.

His sweet little crybaby. 

“C’mere…” He was on the step right in front of you now, the levelling allowing him to lean down just a bit so his face could be close to yours. You took your time meeting his gaze, fingers now fidgeting with the hem of your skirt. “It’s okay baby…” 

“You–” He could tell you were trying to gather your bearings, trying so desperately not to crumble and let the tears fall that were already sitting in your lashes. He was patient with you, scared that if he went in too strong you’d just run off from him again. You sucked in a shaky breath before continuing. “You really hurt me, Draken.” 

He could have hissed, chest getting a little tight. He hated the way that nickname sounded coming from you. 

“I know, I know little love and–” 

“Do you not wanna be my boyfriend? I thought you liked me.” 

“I do like you–”

“Then be my boyfriend.” It had been a bit more firm than he expected, your brows set and a little pout on your lips after you spoke it. Had things been a little different, he would have told you just how proud he was of you for standing your ground like that. 

“It’s not, it's just not that simple.” It was his turn to think his words over, lips catching between his teeth as those doubtful thoughts started returning to him. He was right, wasn’t he? It wasn’t that simple because– 

“Why not?” You were being blunt again, words bordering on angry as you sniffled. The first few tears finally fell and Draken wanted nothing more than to wipe them away. 

“Well to start, there’s your brother–” 

“I don’t care what Michi thinks!” You groaned it out as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I wanna be with you, Ken–” 

“But–” He really hated that he couldn’t seem to find the right words. 

“What are you so afraid of?”  

That really made Draken stop, eyes widening just a bit as he looked back into your teary ones. Your chest was heaving a bit as the silence sat heavily between the two of you. Draken blinked, once, twice, brain reeling over this one simple question. 

Draken had been in many fights, grew up in a brothel, seen blood and gore and sex and a lot of things people shouldn’t see. He wasn’t scared any of those times. So, why now? Why was he so scared now as he looked into your eyes that were basically pleading with him for an answer. 

“I–” His words were shaky, and finally broke the intense gaze the two of you were sharing as he looked down. “I dunno.” 

There was another beat of silence before you continued up the staircase. Draken only looked up when he knew you were at the top, far enough away from him that he didn’t have to feel like your gaze was piercing him. He wished that he didn’t look though, wished that he hadn’t seen that sad smile on your lips. 

He never wanted to see that ever again, not on you. 

“I hope I’ll still be around when you figure it out.” 

Drake wasn’t sure how much time had passed now since he had seen you. The first few days he refused to even think about that interaction on the stairs. That sad smile of yours easily pulls his heart apart and thinking back on it only made him more and more pissed at himself. 

So instead of thinking of you, he filled his time with work. He found himself opening and closing the shop, despite Inui trying to make him go back to their balanced schedule. He took on more projects, burying himself under the weight of grease and bolts instead of dealing with the weight that now sat in his chest.

You hadn’t come back to the shop yet either, he had a feeling you’d never come back. 

What got Draken out of work early one night was a call from Mitsuya. He called twice before Draken reluctantly picked up the phone, the annoyance clear in his tone as he held the phone to his ear with his shoulder. 

“Ya know m’working–” 

“Well, you sound just delighted to hear from me~” Mitsuya hummed, chuckling when he heard Draken’s grunt from the other end of the phone. Mitsuya was organising threads by colour when he spoke. “Come over tonight?” 

“I don’t feel like partying,” Draken answered back right away. What he meant though was that he didn’t wanna go in case Takemichi was there because then he would only remind him of– 

“It’s not gonna be a party doofus, it’ll just be us two.” Draken made a look of disgust, more so at the insult than anything else. “Just come.” 

“I have shit to do here–” He was trying his best to get out of this, but if anyone could see through Draken’s bullshit, it was Mitsuya. 

“You’ve locked yourself in that damn shop for the past week, I know you can make a little time to go out. Let Inui close tonight.”

“Nah, it’s my night.” It wasn’t.

“Bet you haven’t even showered.” 

“Oh fuck off–” Draken grunted, sniffing himself only because Mitsuya wasn’t there to give him the side-eye. He scowled softly to himself when the scent he picked up coming from his overalls was far from pleasant. “Will you quit nagging me if I come, mom?” 

“Absolutely buddy.” Mitsuya was chuckling softly, rolling in his chair to pull back up to his sewing table. “See you at 7, doofus.” 

Draken wasn’t given the opportunity to snap back with something clever, the phone went dead right away. With a huff Draken resultantly found himself putting his tools away, tucking his overused workbench in its proper corner so he could head off to Mistuya’s. 

But not without a shower first. 

Draken’s hair was still damp when he headed for Mitsuya’s place. With how fast Draken sped his bike down the freeway, it only took about ten minutes tops. Draken lugged a case of beer with him up to the familiar walkway that belonged to Mitsuya’s townhouse. When he opened the door he still had his work glasses on, a lazy grin tugging on his features when he was met with the sight of Draken’s scowling face. 

“Would you look at that, he showered.”

Draken just rolled his eyes, nudging past Mitsuya and making himself at home. The two found themselves quickly situated on the couch, spread out on each end and open beers on coasters. Mitsuya had pulled out his old N64, so the two were currently in a round of Mario kart. The silence had been comfortable between the two, as it usually was until Mitsuay finally decided to speak up. 

“So, what's got you fucked up?” 

“What?” Draken said with a short laugh, his eyes staying glued to the tv screen. 

“You only get all solitary like this when something is really bothering you, so–” 

“Nothin’s up, m’good.” Draken simply grunted, which quickly turned into a scowl when Mitusya passed him for first place in the game. “Quit distracting me.” 

“Is it Takemichi’s little sister?”

Draken almost choked on his beer, finally looking away from the screen to look at Mitsuya who was still calm as ever. Only after he passed the finish line did he meet Draken’s gaze, one brow lifted up. 

“What about her?” 

“You were seeing her–” 

“I was not.” 

Now it was Mitsuya’s turn to laugh, a hearty one too that only made Draken’s brows furrow further. He pulled his glasses from his face, sighing out as he shook his head. 

“You think you’re so hard to read, but you’re not.” Mitsuya kept talking before Draken could bark at him. “I know you kept seeing her after that night.” 

“Okay, so?” Draken wasn’t sure why he was getting so defensive, maybe it was because it pissed him off that Mitsuya knew him better than he knew himself. 

“So, did you two break up?”

“We were never together.” Draken simply stated, going to start another round of Mario kart. But as soon as the words left his lips he hated the way they sounded, and now that they were out there, floating around his head it made him grip his controller a little tighter. 

“Oh, you weren’t?” Mitsuya said, that dumb smile of his making Draken shake his head, grit his teeth even. It was Mitsuya’s turn to scoff, tipping his beer back to polish it off. “You are such a fuckin doofus dude.” 

“Watch your mouth man–” 

“Why are ya doing this to yourself?” Draken sucked in a little breath. The silence hung in the air between them a little and Mitsuya rolled his eyes when he saw how Draken’s head tipped slightly to the side in confusion. He continued as he opened up another beer. “Why aren’t you letting yourself be happy? You can do commitment, you’ve done it before.” 

Draken felt a little frozen in place, eyes unfocused as he tried to process what Mitsuya had so obviously laid out for him. His heart started to pick up in his chest as he really thought it over, well at least tried to. “Yea, I did it before and look what happened.” 

Flashes of his relationship with Emma were impossible to ignore. How things went from wonderful to terrible so quickly. How the two of them became each other's world so fast for it all to crash and burn. The fighting, the lies, how he was so scared after he lost her but to also lose everyone he loved. His found family was all he had, and if they had decided to up and leave– 

“Sure, it was a bad breakup,” Mitsuya spoke with a simple shrug of his shoulders, looking at Draken’s pained face over the lip of his bottle. “But it didn’t stay bad, did it?” 

“Guess not…” Draken murmured. It didn’t. He didn’t lose his best friends, he didn’t even really lose Emma. After time apart and some growing up, the two had gone back to speaking terms. 

“So, let yourself be happy, dude.” 

“But she’s another little sister–” 

“Yea you have a type.” Mitsuya couldn’t help but laugh, especially after Draken sent his controller flying at him. Mitsuya thankfully caught it, holding a hand up in defence. “Relax! I’m joking… The boys are gonna bug you about it, but Draken, who the fuck cares.” 

Draken slowly nodded at that, allowing himself to really think it all over. He had never been the type to care so much about what others thought about him. He was letting himself get in his head for something that was already over and done with. Rubbing his hand over his forehead, he picked up another beer, shaking his head as he twisted the top off to chug some of it down. 

“I hate you, you know that?” He mumbled to Mitsuya, which only made him laugh out loud in response. He clinked his bottle up against Draken’s. 

“Love you too buddy. You should really make up with her.” Draken eyed Mitsuya over the lip of his beer. “I assume you said some dumb guy shit to her.” 

Draken pouted, mumbling something along the lines of “maybe I did” before he took another drink. Looking down the stem of the bottle Draken sighed softly, thinking of that sad smile on your face. It made him scoff at himself. “I just– I’m not sure I’ll be able to treat her right, as her boyfriend.” 

“Well, she’s stuck around this long, hasn’t she?” Mitsuya started to set up another game of Mario Kart for the two of them as Draken nodded slowly. “I’m sure if she didn’t think you’d treat her right, she woulda left.” 

Those couple words were left lingering in Draken’s head the rest of the evening. Mitsuya didn’t bring it up again, and Draken didn’t dare to. But as he started to pass out on his friend's couch, he had one too many beers to be driving himself home, he really thought over what Mitsuya had said. What he knew was right. 

I’m sure if she didn’t think you'd treat her right, she woulda left. 

Draken chuckled softly to himself, his palm coming up to slap him right on the forehead. The sting made him hiss to himself, but it's what he deserved. He’d never admit it out loud, but sometimes he wished his brain worked the way Mitsuya’s did. 

“I’m such an idiot.” He spoke, and it was Mitsuya sleepy agreeing with him on the couch beside him that had him laughing all over again. 

He knew you’d be finishing classes up on campus right now, had picked you up and dropped you off many times before to know that you’d be coming out of the big college building any minute now. He parked right out front, his hands dug deep into his pockets as he watched the door. His eyes scanned over many faces, all different kinds, all of them filtering through, onyx gaze trying to lock onto– 

You. 

You were in the middle of giggling, those familiar wrinkles showing up around the corners of your eyes, your pretty manicured nails holding the books you had tighter to your chest. The image made him smile fondly, lips upturned just a little when the two of you finally made eye contact. 

He was more than grateful that you returned the small smile. The darkest parts of him had conceived him; you'd simply walk right by him, or even turn around in the opposite direction. But instead, you excused yourself from your friends, who all couldn’t help but side-eye the older, imitating dude leaning on a motorcycle, dragon tattoo on full display with his hair pulled up in a loose ponytail. As you approach he speaks, unable to keep his eyes off your own. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi, Ken.” Just the way you say his name makes his heart flutter a little. He moves to the side, opening up the small compartment on his bike that’ll allow you to put your books inside. 

“Come with me?” He asks, and the momentary silence makes him feel more nervous than he had in a long time. You could say no, he could have taken too long. You could have already slipped right out of his fingertips and it would be all his fault– 

“Okay.” You simply reply, and your smile doesn’t falter. It stays as you tuck your books away, as he places his helmet on your bread and helps you adjust the straps. You in front of him on the bike just as you had on that first night he picked you up. His hands easily swallowed yours on the handlebars, and before you knew it the two of you were speeding off towards his place. You knew that because the route had become too familiar after the many times he’d whisked you away after school. Your heart was beating fast in your chest like it normally did when you rode on Draken’s bike. It filled you with a type of adrenaline you hadn’t been able to find anywhere else. 

That and the fact that his hands seemed to be holding yours tighter than usual. 

After a couple of sharp turns and uphill roads, you two made it to Draken’s apartment. He gave you your space as you two headed to his room a couple of floors up, his heart seeming to be in his throat. He needed to relax, he knew exactly what he had to say to you, knew what he had to do, and yet as he fiddled with his keys a bit to find the right one that opened his apartment, the familiar scent of your perfume was making his brain a little foggy. 

It was the warmth of your fingers that shook him from whatever haze he was in, the tips of his ears feeling a bit hot as your fingers easily tugged the right key, helped him slip it into the lock. “It’s this one, Ken.” You say it as if your presence alone isn’t making him weak at the knees. 

He just nodded, allowing you in first. Shoes were slipped off and the two of you found yourself in his kitchen. You stood right in the middle, your arms tucked neatly behind your back, hands clasped. He missed the way you used to make yourself at home, grabbing something from his fridge or sprawling out on his couch. 

He wanted you to be that comfortable again. 

“I really needed to see you.” He started, his voice a little hesitant. He cleared his throat, fingers once again in his pockets. He looked everywhere but at you, despite the way he felt your gentle gaze burning into him. “I needed, I just–” He huffed. “I really fucked up–” 

There was your familiar warmth again, but instead, you were grabbing at one of his hands. So easily your fingers threaded into his, and suddenly the weight in his tummy didn’t feel all that heavy as he looked down at you, those wide pretty eyes he had missed so fucking much. “You did kinda fuck up–” You murmur, which makes him huff again, this time with a hint of laughter behind it. “I know I did. I know.”

He pulled you in a little closer, and he was so very grateful that you weren't resistant. In fact, you melted into his chest, your face finding that familiar comfortable spot against his peck, cheek pressed up against where you felt his heartbeat, which was currently pounding in his chest. He sucks in another breath, one hand coming to gently pet your head. “I’m sorry, I’m real sorry sweetheart…” He feels the way you start to tremble and it eats at him, brows furrowing up. “Please, don’t babygirl, m’tryna apologise to you–” 

“Don’t be dumb like that ever again Ken.” Your voice waves and he knows you’re about to cry, but he doesn't stop you from speaking, if anything, your shaky words only make him hold you tighter, a fond smile coming to his lips. “Don’t leave me like that again!” Your voice cracks and Ken has to chuckle under his breath, but there's no bite to his laughter, only fondness. “Next time, just talk to me. I-I know I’m younger and inexperienced b-but I know what I want and that's you–” 

That's when he finally stops you, one big palm cupping your cheek. He tilts your head up, thumb smoothing over your cheekbone before he's pressing a smooch to your lips. You both seem to relax against the embrace, and when he feels a salty tear hit his thumb he swipes it away, lips parting from your just enough so he can murmur against them. 

“I know, lil love. I know.” When your lower lip trembles a bit a smile breaks out on his lips. One that makes the corner of his lips twitch, little wrinkles showing up around his eyes. His hands cup your neck so gently, thumbs pressing up against the underside of your jaw. He murmurs again, this time his words slurred along with your breathy, soft whimper. “I want you too…” 

This time the kiss is desperate, needy. Your fingers turn white at the knuckles when you grip at his shirt, lips moulding against his own. Draken’s tongue is impatient, slithering into your open mouth and reexploring the warm cavern that is your mouth. He huffs when your chest presses flush to him, and with ease his big hands cup your thighs, scooping you into his embrace. Your legs cling to his waist without a thought, the giddy giggle bubbling from your lips and against his own making a bit of blush rise on his cheeks. 

Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet sound. 

Draken tries not to trip over himself as he carries you off to his bedroom, his back hitting up against the door at the same time your teeth playfully tug at his bottom lip. He drops you down and the bounce of your body has both of you a little too excited, Draken’s shirt easily coming off as he tugs it up over his head. 

“Lemme show you how badly I want you, baby.” His voice has already gotten deeper, and as his big hand comes to cup the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss he’s a bit surprised when both your palms press against his chest, pushing him away an inch.

Surprised and panicked. Was he moving too fast, did you think he was just using you in your vulnerable moment? Had he really fucked up so soon again– 

His breath left him in a huff when his back hit the mattress, your body rolling over him. He blinked a few times as you straddled him, palms pressed against his chest and your face heated. He could tell that a flush was working its way up to your cheeks when you looked down at him, your body slowly scooting down from his waist to his hips. 

“No, let me s-show you.” Despite just how nervous you were, Draken could tell by the way you chewed on your lower lip, how your fingers trembled a little, undoing his belt and zipper, his cock still twitched with excitement underneath you an odd sense of pride flowing through him. 

You had come a long way, from the virgin he met all those months ago. He had just been the biggest idiot and here he was, pushing his hair from his face so he could watch how your pretty little hands handled his semi-hard cock with such care. How you looked at him first, batted your lashes when you leaned in and pressed the sweetest of kisses right to his tip. 

“Oh fuck—“ 

Yea, he was never letting you go again, ever. 

You took a deep breath through your nose before taking his tip between your lips, your eyes never leaving his dilated ones. He propped himself up on an elbow, free hand easing the hair away from your face. It was a sight that would be burned into his mind forever. Wide doe eyes, hand barely wrapped around his fat base, pretty lips suckling away at his tip. 

“You’re gonna be the fuckin death of me pretty girl.” Draken chuckles breathlessly, and the little glint in your eyes tells him you would have smiled had your lips not been preoccupied. He kept his hand gentle on the back of your head as you slowly took more of him, your tongue flattening out against his underside. His head tilted back in a groan at your steady pace, the warmth of your mouth making his skin prickle with pleasure. His fingers curled in your hair just a bit, enough to hold him back from jerking his hips into you, make you gag– 

He’d save it for another time. 

“Atta girl…” He murmured, chest rising and falling a little faster as you gained your rhythm. Your eyes peaked up at him again, before you got back into it, cheeks hollowing as you took as much of him into your mouth as possible. You reached about halfway, which Draken noticed made your brows furrow up. 

“S’okay, we’ve got plenty of time to make it fit, keep going lil love.” He encouraged, and you listened, head continuing to bob faster, sloppier. Draken could feel your drool dribbling down his shaft and onto his balls and it made him shiver. It didn’t help that your ass was up high, practically swaying like an excited little puppy just to be sucking him off. Swearing under his breath a moment as his balls suddenly felt all too tight, he pulled you off his cock, the pornographic pop of your lips making him grunt, you whine. The string of drool connecting your swollen lips to his cock was thick, and when it snapped onto your chin Draken could feel himself getting lightheaded. 

“W-Why did you–” He silenced your whining with another fierce kiss, and without hesitation you were manhandled back into his pillows, flat on your back. He has no problem working your soiled panties off your thighs, deciding to just tuck the extra material of your skirt into the waistband “Felt fucking awesome.” Your panties are tossed right over your shoulder, a cute yelp leaving you when he hauls both your thighs up, over his shoulders. “But I wanna cum in this pretty pussy.” 

From this position your pussy was split wide open for him, your clit poking out and throbbing from under the hood. He sighed, content, pausing his previous actions to lean in, pressing the softest of kisses right up against your clit. 

“My pretty pussy.” His soft touch is gone, replaced with his burning desire to claim you again. A few rubs of his cock against your slicken folds, along with your drool is enough to get his cock wet enough to slip in. His breathing hitches once his head makes it past the tight ring of your muscles, the squeeze vice-like just from the simple intrusion. 

“K-Ken–” 

“Shh, I know.” He coos, hunching over you. With your thighs on his shoulders, his shifting has you in a mating press, a position that all too knew and is making your head spin. Your tummy folds the closer he gets to you, the pad of his thumb rubbing soothing circles into your clit while the other intertwines with the hand you had gripping the sheets close to your head. “S’always gonna be a lil tight, isn’t it babygirl.” 

You’re already moaning in a wonton fashion, eyes struggling to stay open as he rocks his cock head in and out, his thumb working at your nub. When your pussy starts fluttering for him he works in a few more inches, needy sounds spilling into each other mouth due to his lips staying inches away from your own. “Gonna take it all f’me? Be my good girl?”  

You nod, and when you look at him again your eyes have that familiar glassy sheen he’s grown to love. He kisses you right under the eye before with one good push his cock is all the way inside. The sound you make is downright sinful, something between a cry and a mewl and it has Draken’s cock twitching within the tightness of your cunt. It makes his vision go a little stary, the growl he releases vibrating through his chest. 

“Good fucking girl.” The slap of his hips into your ass resounds throughout the room, squelching soon coming from between your bodies. In this position his cock nuzzles your sweet spot, seeming to reach down deep, into parts of you that you didn’t even realise existed, and it quickly has you falling apart, babbles freely spilling from your lips, tears wetting your hot cheeks. Draken is quick to kiss them away, his fingers tightening around yours as he puffs hot pants along your face. 

“D-Deep~!” You manage to squeak, and Draken has to crack a grin, his hips suddenly stopping their brutal pace just so he can roll them instead. That had you gasping, drool spilling from your hung lips as you look up at him with a gaze that's already beyond fucked out. “S’real deep baby, s’good though yea?” 

You nod, fresh tears on your lashes. “Only the best for my baby.” He utters, hips switching back and forth between rutting and grinding. He’s convinced you’ve already cum on his cock, the amount of slick bubbling around his shaft and the tightness of your walls are his hints, but he keeps going, needing to fill you up after so long. Despite your cries, he brings his hand back to your clit, his rubs becoming sloppy. He only releases your hand to cup the back of your neck instead, keeping your foreheads pressed together. 

“Eyes on me, lil love.” You do manage to open your teary eyes, meeting his dilated pupils. “Good, good girl.” His body starts to twitch, broad shoulders rippling and his thighs starting to tremble as his own release quickly builds in his gut. “I– fuck. Baby, I love you, pretty–” 

And despite just how dumbed out you were moments before, those words seem to bring some clarity to your eyes. Your fingers tangle into his sweaty hair, gripping it at the roots for your sanity. The pleasant little laugh you let out and breathe against his lips makes his heart jump against his ribcage. 

“I love y-you Ken, love you so much, Kenny–” 

His climax hits him hard, the full-body chill he experiences making goosebumps rise along his spine as he fills you up. The feeling of his warm, thick cum is enough to have you coming undone right along with him, the sensation being yet another new one when liquid seems to gush past your little hole. It makes Draken’s balls tighten up instantly, the warm splash of your arousal onto his fingers that still gently coax pleasure out of your clit. And he can’t help but grin, a boyish grin that quickly turns into a grunt. “Fuck, fuckin squirtin on me, how cute.” 

He doesn’t pull out, he can’t. He needs to be close to you, keep your limp body tucked carefully underneath him. You’re too far in to even notice the mess, your whines and whimpers dwindling down into soft breaths as he turns to his side, keeping you in his chest. His cock slowly softens in your walls, and even then, Draken’s keeps you glued to him as you both come down, tremors and pants still coming over both of you. 

“Sweetheart.” He murmurs, face nuzzling up against your temple. When he gets a whine in return he holds you closer, careful to ease your face away from his chest so he can cover your tear-streaked face in kisses. “You’re okay, my baby…” 

Draken is usually more responsible than this. Then to let you two doze off without a proper clean-up. But feeling your soft heartbeat against his, your fingers still lost in his hair, your lips pressed right up into the crook of his neck and puffing soft air, he just couldn't bring himself to let go. He didn’t want to let go now, or ever. Keeping you here, wrapped in his embrace, he was certain that you’d be there tomorrow morning too, with that beautiful smile he had fallen stupidly, hopelessly, in love with. 

Fuck it. He was taking on the little sister fucker title with pride. 

“Kenny, your hand is sweaty.” You murmur, trying to hold back your laughter when he shoots you a glare, pulling his hand away from you and dramatically rubbing it along his jeans. 

“Fine, just won’t hold your hand, brat” He grumbles, and that sets you over, wrapping your arms around him mid-walk to press small kisses along his collar bones. 

Draken hadn’t felt this nervous ever, in his entire life (this was a lie, he’s just dramatic as ever). The two of you were only steps away from your place, the same place you and Takemichi lived in together. Everyone was there, the entire found family, and you two were now official…

He was getting flashbacks of the group chat, his friend's ruthless behaviour, the way Takemichi hadn’t talked to him for one whole week, and the sweet satisfaction Baji got when he got one free punch to his jaw for Takemichi’s sake. 

“Maybe we can tell them next week, or over a call. Whattya think lil love,” Draken murmured, his face hiding in your hairline. Your sweet laughter sent that familiar warmth through his chest, and one good tug on his hand had him reluctantly walking back towards the house. “You’ll be fine.” You say with a smile, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. “We’re gonna do it together.” 

When you hopped up onto the front step, Draken’s eyes trailed down to the sweet dangling sound that was the anklet looped around your ankle. The gold one, with his initials, right where it belonged. The sight had him calming a little, brows furrowed in the way they usually did when he became focused. “Right, together.” 

“Michi-nii!” You call out once the two of you enter the house, the sound of music and chatter already filling the front entrance. Draken holds your hand a little tighter as if he had been entering a place he’d never been before. 

“Living room!” Takemichi calls out, surrounded by founding members of toman, each huddled around the kotatsu table that was covered in snacks, beers, and cards. Oddly enough the chatter died down as Takemichi was dealing out for another round, a laugh leaving his lips. 

“You guys gonna take this round seriously–” It was Mikey’s elbow into his ribs that silenced him, a little puff escaping his lungs. He was about to complain when his eyes were brought to what everyone seemed to be staring at. 

And that was you, beaming smile and all, with your hand held tightly by Draken’s, who couldn't seem to make eye contact with anyone. 

“Hi Michi~ Hi everyone! What are ya–” 

“Finally.” Mitsuya was the first to mutter, leaning back further into his spot on the couch. “Chifuyu, you owe me 20 bucks, told you they’d come out today.” 

“No fair!” Chifuyu blurted out, grumbling when he reluctantly pulled bills from his pocket. Pah and Peh were the first to start laughing, clinking their beers together.” 

“Wait, you knew? How?” Mikey questioned Mitsuya, who triumphantly took the money from Chifuyu with a laugh of his own. Kazutora was even starting to crack up, hiding his smirk behind his beer. 

And despite all the commotion, Takemichi sat dumbfounded, eyes glued to yours and Draken’s intertwined hands. When he did finally speak, it only made the group that much rowdier. 

“Well, what the fuck is this–” 

“Time for another punch,” Baji said with that signature grin of his, basically hoping from his spot on the couch. 

“Wait wait!” You said, your pout only stirring the pot further. “No one is punching anyone! We’re–”

“We are dating,” Draken said, eyes a bit narrowed as he spoke. “We’re dating, Takemichi, I wanna date your sister, and I’m gonna.” 

There was another round of silence in the room, but it didn’t last, not when Pah mumbled under his breath. 

“Classic sister fucker–”

“Well, you could have at least asked first?!” Takemichi was dramatic as ever, tears swelling up in his eyes at the thought of his precious little sister being tarnished by the big, mean, scary man that was Draken. He let go of your hand then, being just as dramatic as Takemichi if not more so “I did ask, I just asked in front of everyone.” 

“But you’re already dating, have been a while no…?” Classic Mitsuya, stirring the pot and making everyone act up yet again. 

“Now why would you say that you ass–”

“C’mon Michi, I’ll punch him again for you, one good punch like last time–” Baji was punching at the air for emphasis. 

“Sister fucker behaviour,” Peh said with a shake of his head, only making Pah laugh harder. 

And amidst the bickering and nonsense that always seemed to break out between the boys, you took a seat next to Mikey, taking the Taiyaki he had to offer you with a little huff. He noticed the anklet, observant as ever as you rolled your eyes when Takemichi actually started crying, something about you losing your innocence. 

“He’ll treat you right.” You looked at Mikey, who spared you a small smile and a pat on the head. “Draken–”

“I know!” You responded happily, eyeing him as he held Baji back, the nerves he was feeling earlier long gone. You took a bite of the Taiyaki and giggled. 

“I can’t wait to be with him, forever!”

property of kenslilove, do not copy, repost, translate, or move onto any other platform!! 

[daycourtofficial]

Save your tears

Summary: Eris finds his pregnant mate sobbing because of something Lucien did

Author’s note: this is short and fun and silly and goofy, inspired by this fic by @artethyst

Lucien Vanserra considered himself to be a male who was kind and who picked up on the emotional state of those around him.

Which is why he has no idea how you began crying or what to do about it.

Ever since you had written to him a few months ago asking if he could stay in Autumn more frequently during your pregnancy, he had obliged, stopping by to see you at least once a week.

Tears were streaming down your face, and he couldn’t make out a single coherent word from you due to your blubbering. He came to sit next to you, but you put your hands on your belly, scooting further away from him.

Eris strode into the room, taking in the scene before him. You trying to stay as far away from his brother as possible, and his brother trying to get closer to you to console you.

“Lucien, what could you have possibly done to reduce my mate to a sobbing mess?”

Lucien throws his hands around, gesturing wildly, “What I did? Perhaps she’s woken from whatever spell she was under and realized who she was mated to.”

Eris gives his brother a look as he comes to you, grabbing your face gently so you look into his eyes. He takes deep slow breaths, wanting you to do the same. After a moment of deep breathing, your sobs have quieted and he asks, in an incredibly delicate tone, “What’s wrong, fawn?”

“Lucien killed a spider,” you sob out.

Lucien’s eyes widen, “that’s why you’re upset? You asked me to kill it! You were upset over it being here!”

“Yes, and now the spider’s dead and she probably had a whole spider family that is going to starve because you’re a spider murderer,” you reply, having to stop every few words to breathe. “And,” you stress, “her corpse is over there, discarded like she meant nothing.”

Eris kept his lips pressed tightly to keep from laughing at the sheer absurdity of his pregnant mate and his brother as they continued debating the morality of Lucien killing the spider. He watches his brother go to pick up the spider’s body, unlatching a window, and tossing it out before closing the window again, before turning to you, his face asking are you happy now?

You squeak at his callousness and disregard for it, asking, “is that what you shall do with me when I perish?”

Lucien rolls his eyes, “gods I don’t think I’ll be around to witness your death because all of the spiders across the land will kill me in vengeance for their fallen queen.”

Eris sits next to you, pulling you in towards his body, sending waves of love and joy through the bond to soothe you. You curl into him, grasping his shirt to cling onto.

“How could Lucien do such a thing…”

Lucien huffs before stalking off, muttering to himself about how he spends his free time in Autumn for you just to be disrespected for doing what you wanted him to.

You cry in his arms for a while, your sobs turning into hiccups. Eris places a hand on your bump, smoothing his thumb over it, applying a light heat so your babe knows who’s there.

“I think I scared Lucien away,” you finally say, voice shaky.

“Lucien is not so easily shaken. I’ve been trying for centuries to make him hate me, but my attempts are always unsuccessful.”

You smile, your sniffles the only sound for a few moments.

“If you really want Lucien to hate you, have him convicted for the murder of a spider.”

Eris’s eyes crinkle in amusement, “he would have a lot to say about that, I’m sure.”

“There aren’t many topics that he doesn’t have a lot to say on,” you smirk.

Eris stands up, his vest before extending a hand to you. You accept it, and he helps pull you up.

“I think it’d be funny if we told him we’re naming the babe Lulu,” you say, curling underneath Eris’s arm.

“I think he’d be more crushed to find out we aren’t.”

“That’s what’s funny about it.”

“Wicked, wicked female you are,” he croons, leading the two of you through the hall of the Forest House.

[bamsara]

Have you seen cannon Eclipse yet?? Will Ruin be effecting how you portray them in SL?

(Ruin spoilers) Long post!!! Sorry I rambled klsdhglksd plus I pulled out some of my older art so it's a bit of a ramble post about Eclipse and how I write/draw them / the duality of man (robot) / and SL's AU universe

Most likely not since a fully-booted-up Eclipse in SL wouldn't be too terribly different from what I could work with coming from Ruin. I've already made several art pieces and writing drafts about the 'scary looking but sweet' Eclipse type more than the murder murder murder scary kill kind having to do with the virus's invovlement, so I think this developement is actaully pretty steller for me

Not to say my Eclipse won't be a bit more intense than what was shown in the DLC, but I think it still works out

I mean Look at my doodles and writings of Post-Solar Lunacy Eclipse and how they act: you've got your spooky behavior that comes from Five Nights At Freddy's being a horror game + based off of the DCA's behavior + general alternate universe junk :

and then your silly goofy:

I've always adored the Duelity of Man (Robot)

So basically: Ruin DLC will probably not affect how I write Eclipse at all because from the short few lines we got from them kinda already alligns with how I see Eclipse behaving, at least Post - Solar Lunacy. Sweet boy.

Eclipse's dialect is a bit different in the ruin dlc then how I've had it planned but I think that's okay too, considering how I had their dialect/manner of speaking pretty down similar to how Sun & Moon were speaking in the DLC at least (the short sentences, phrases, occasionally long ones) although this is kinda just a writing flow choice / au character interpretation thing that's a personal preference, since I personally have Moon less verbal than Sun and Sun a lot more talkative in my fics than even the og Sun in Security breach.

Appearance wise? Nothing really changes! The hat and sunrays combo can switch inbetween having a hat or just having sunrays (like how arcade game Eclipse just has sunrays, but character model Eclipse has Moon's hat) and it really just depends on the scene and/or if the DCA was already wearing the nightcap as Eclipse makes an appearance.

I'm keeping the four-arms deal. Best thing the fandom came up with and love it when they do that for characters. Insert 'i just think its neat' image here.

Solar Lunacy has been and still is a AU universe so like said before, some aspects of canon are choosy to whatever I think makes a good entertainment story and all, so not too worried about sticking to canon all that much. Yippie for transformative and creative expression!

THAT BEING SAID, I absolutely fucking adore the glimpse of personality we got from the few scenes of canon Eclipse in the Ruin DLC and it fits an idea of character in my head for them, so I won't really need to divert from the original draft too much for Eclipse!

I'm really happy ahh!!!!