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gimmethatagustd · 1 year

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cosmic collision (1) | myg + jjk

A responsible weedman, Yoongi always tests out new marijuana strains before selling them to his customers. When his supplier offers him a new strain, Cosmic Collision, Yoongi is eager to try it. What he doesn't expect is the alien that comes with it.

↳ pairing: weedman!yoongi x alien!jungkook

↳ wc/date: 6.8k | april 2023

↳ warnings: marijuana | yoongi blacks out from being too high, but i promise nothing bad happens to him | jungkook is so precious you might not survive | yoongi is TRYING HIS BEST

↳ notes: welcome to this silly lil world of galactic mysteries 👽 i hope you enjoy the journey. pls keep your arms, hands, legs, feet, and head inside the spacecraft at all times

↳ main masterlist // series masterlist

↳ what was jai listening to? know yourself - drake

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“What’s this one called again?” As Namjoon speaks, a thick cloud of white smoke rushes out of his mouth.

Hoseok is quick with a response, answering before Yoongi has a chance. “DJ Short Flo,” he reads the piece of masking tape stuck to the top of the glass jar on their coffee table. The name is scribbled in blue Sharpie.

Namjoon repeats the name to himself in a low and scratchy tone. He clears his throat a few times more than is really necessary. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

Yoongi’s not sure the names of marijuana strains really need to mean anything, but he’s not part of the conversation. He’s too busy counting a rather fat wad of cash as he stands in the entryway of his apartment.

Suddenly, the chill vibes playlist Namjoon so artfully crafted for the group’s weekly Friday night smoke sesh pauses. He flashes a glare at Taehyung spread out on Yoongi’s bean bag as he passes the blunt off to Hoseok, who is now making grabby hands next to him on the couch.

“This is that nasty flow!” Taehyung belts the Drake lyrics prematurely, using his phone to switch from Namjoon’s playlist to the song that has seemingly popped into his head at the mention of Flo.

Hoseok’s eyes widen as he lifts the blunt to his lips. He takes a drag from it while his head leans over the back of the couch. “Hey, wasn’t that Yoongi’s rapper name in college? Or was it DJ Short Glow?”

“Top boy in this shit, I’m so international!”

Yoongi slams his foot into his dirty red Vans. He has to bend over slightly to hook his finger in the back of the shoe to pull it out from underneath his heel. Life would be much easier if he just untied his shoes and put them on correctly.

“It was Gloss.”

“Reps up is in here, got P Reign and Chubby and TJ and Winnie and whoa!” Taehyung’s voice cracks as he chokes out the lyrics, and smoke simultaneously puffs out of his nose and mouth.

“DJ Short Gloss?” Hoseok asks.

“Yeah, and you know how that should go!”

“Man, shut the fuck up.” Yoongi throws his middle finger up at whoever may be looking. “I’m not even short.” With his shoes on, Yoongi shrugs into a light windbreaker and stuffs the money into one of the pockets. He has to wiggle the pocket’s zipper a few times before it fully zips closed. “I’ma be back in probably two hours, okay?”

Hoseok and Taehyung are now belting an Ariana Grande song, so only Namjoon acknowledges Yoongi’s announcement. He throws his friend a thumbs up as smoke unfurls around the blunt squeezed between his lips.

“Have fun, bro. Tell Jin he better respond to my message on Discord. We got games to play.”

Yoongi gives the front door a sharp kick before he yanks it open. He reminds himself to figure out how to fix it from getting stuck constantly. The paint on the bottom corner is starting to crack from the number of toes that have jammed into it.

“Yeah, yeah. I got you, Joon.”

Seokjin is notoriously difficult to get ahold of. Yoongi can’t text him, which is understandable, even if using other apps like Discord to communicate is annoying. It always goes back to not wanting his real phone number associated with their conversations. Yoongi never feels like pointing out that a Discord account - like literally everything else - can be traced back to Seokjin’s phone. It’s a losing battle, and Yoongi isn’t the type to argue.

So he shoots WWHandsome#7451 a quick “omw” and drives the thirty minutes to Seokjin’s brother’s house. Or was it his cousin? Best friend? Yoongi can’t remember. All he knows is the guy is cute, and that is enough to make Yoongi not want to go to his house.

It’s a small house tucked away in the culs-de-sac of a modest but nice-looking suburb. Yoongi always feels dirty as he parks on the curb in his 2001 Honda Accord. The car has wires sticking out where the spoiler was once connected in the back (accidentally ripped off by Taehyung, who closed the trunk too hard). The metal below his front left headlight is dented and stitched together with black zip ties after Yoongi idiotically let Namjoon drive and his friend hit a mailbox.

The feeling of being out of place typically intensifies as Yoongi trudges up the walkway to the front door. He feels frumpy in his dad hat with a frayed bill, eccentrically-patterned pink button-up shirt over a white graphic tee, and forest-green joggers. He never cared about fashion; throwing on whatever’s clean is enough for him. But when Seokjin’s friend (Yoongi is now remembering they are just friends) flings the door open and lets his eyes roam over Yoongi’s frame, he wishes he’d at least ironed his shirt.

“Hello,” the man purs. He brushes blue-grey hair away from eyes that are sharp and heavy as he looks up at Yoongi through his bangs. Yoongi tries not to pay attention. “Jinnie’s in the basement.”

The basement is really just one giant gaming room with a spot off to the side dedicated to Seokjin’s rather impressive inventory of marijuana. He’s exceptionally organized, which Yoongi appreciates, with each glass jar and drawer stuffed with green buds neatly labeled. It makes the exchange quick and easy. Yoongi would prefer not to linger.

It’s not that Seokjin has ever done anything wrong. In all honesty, Yoongi can’t quite put a name to the feeling he gets in the elder’s presence. He just knows something about Seokjin makes him uneasy.

“Yoongi-ya, good to see you, my friend.” Seokjin’s hand clamps over Yoongi’s shoulder and his fingers dig into his clavicle.

“Good seeing you, too,” Yoongi mumbles. He shrugs off his backpack and holds it against his chest like a shield. However, it doesn’t protect him for long because Seokjin almost immediately pries it from Yoongi’s grasp. He watches as the older man tosses the empty bag onto the coffee table in front of a large TV, making the glass rattle.

“Sit.”

Yoongi plops onto the couch. Halo Infinite is paused on the TV. He knows nothing about video games, but he’s sure Namjoon would squeal over Seokjin’s setup. Yoongi makes a note to never tell him about it.

“Want your usual, right?” Seokjin asks though he’s obviously not in any rush to get Yoongi his supply when he settles beside him on the couch. He tilts his black bucket hat back, pulling the brim away from his eyes to expose dark eyebrows.

Seokjin wears clothes similar to Yoongi’s usual attire: comfortable graphic tees and joggers. He always manages to look better, though. Sleek and expensive, with logos of brands Yoongi doesn’t even know stitched into the fabric, all monochrome rather than the patterned clothing that makes Yoongi look like a rainbow threw up on him.

“Mhm,” Yoongi hums. “Chem Valley Kush, XJ-13, and DJ Short Flo sold really well.”

Seokjin’s eyes crinkle as he grins. In the dim lighting of the room, Yoongi swears his teeth look sharp. “XJ-13 put your ass in gear, didn’t it?”

This Yoongi has to smile at. “The most productive I’ve been in my life,” he laughs. “That tangerine aroma, too? Fuckin’ beautiful.”

Seokjin reaches for the clear glass bong atop the coffee table. He brings it to his lips, pausing momentarily to say, “It’s the Jack Herer in it.”

Yoongi watches the smoke furl through the intricately curled tubing. He’s always been more of a bowl kind of guy, but he doesn’t say no when Seokjin passes him the bong and a lime green lighter.

“I’ve got enough of all three, but try out this one.” Seokjin watches expectantly as Yoongi inhales and doesn’t continue talking until he blows a thick cloud toward the ceiling. “It’s called Cosmic Collision. Totally brand new strain, an experimental hybrid. Nobody’s got this on the street except me.”

“Cosmic Collision?” Yoongi runs his tongue across his teeth, then the inside of his cheeks, like he’s gathering the taste in his mouth. It’s fruity and went down so smooth it almost felt more like vaping or hookah than weed. “Tastes like cereal.”

“Good, right? Shit’ll take you somewhere otherworldly.”

Describing the strain as experimental and otherworldly is relatively accurate, Yoongi muses as he takes a few more hits from the bong. Each pull is smooth and surprisingly kind to his throat as he breathes it down. Weed like this is hard to come by on the streets. Most are harsh, perhaps from being doused in pesticides or growing in shoddy environments. Seokjin has never let Yoongi down, though. Everything he provides is always high quality, to the extent that Yoongi wonders if the man grows it himself or if he’s got the hookup with someone professional.

Before long, Yoongi sinks into the couch and forgets his promise of returning home after two hours. His phone buzzes in his pocket with text messages he can’t seem to find the desire to check. He doesn’t hear the notifications, only feels the vibration against his thigh. The sensation warms him to the point that the way his body tingles is a little embarrassing.

Something else buzzes in his ear, something he can hear as a muffled squeak that pulses against his eardrums. It’s rather annoying. Yoongi’s face twists into a slight grimace that quickly melts away when he feels something poke his cheek.

“Yoongi-ya!”

His head is almost too heavy to turn, but he manages. Seokjin’s image is blurry initially. It takes a few blinks for Yoongi to adjust, and only then does he realize his eyes have been closed for a good while.

“Hm?” Like his head, his tongue feels heavy to lift. His mouth tastes like Froot Loops. A small smile stretches his lips against his teeth. God, he’s so fucking high.

“Jimin and I need to leave; I’m sorry,” Seokjin gives him a sheepish look.

Yoongi blinks a few more times and wills his arms to lift up. He stretches his back with a groan. “Shit, sorry. Didn’t realize how long it’s been.”

His phone tells him it’s been nearly four hours since he arrived. His brain struggles to comprehend this new information, just like it struggles to accept that he has somehow migrated upstairs and is now sitting at the kitchen table with a glass of water in front of him. When the fuck had he moved?

Seokjin gives him a knowing smile. “Drink more water when you get home. And drive safely!”

Nodding his head, Yoongi slings his backpack over his shoulder and follows Seokjin to the front door. The bag is heavy with what Yoongi assumes is weed - the whole reason why he came to the house in the first place. But he has no recollection of Seokjin giving it to him.

“That’s some strong shit,” Yoongi mumbles mostly to himself as he says his final goodbyes.

There’s the knowing smile again, though Yoongi doesn’t know what Seokjin knows that he doesn’t know. “Like I said, otherworldly. Have a good night, my friend. I’ll see you around.”

As he returns to his car, Yoongi decides that Seokjin most definitely gives him the creeps. A twinge of guilt accompanies the thought because Yoongi knows Seokjin hasn’t actually done anything to deserve such judgment, but he can’t help it. Knowing that he completely blacked out for hours with the guy sends a shiver down Yoongi’s spine. Smoking has never affected him like that before.

The car ride home is frigid and quiet. Yoongi leans forward against the steering wheel, grasping it with both hands and straining his eyes to see into the dark. Driving while high is a skill Yoongi has perfected over many years of smoking, but tonight he finds himself struggling to stay focused. His eyes keep flicking up to check the rearview mirror. He knows this means he’s so high that paranoia starts kicking in. He usually cuts himself off before that point, but tonight got away from him. Checking for cops in the rearview mirror is one of those paranoid habits of his. At least the sense of self-preservation isn’t too ridiculous. Driving while under the influence of marijuana is illegal, after all.

To his horror, the next time he looks into the mirror, the empty street isn’t what greets him. Instead, Yoongi stares into two large, bright eyes.

There’s a motherfucking person in his backseat.

“What the fuck?!”

Yoongi stomps on the brakes. The abruptness violently lurches the guy forward, making him smack his face into the back of the passenger’s seat.

The guy groans loudly and cups his hand over his nose. “Owww.” When he meets Yoongi’s eyes through the rearview mirror again, they’re shiny and wet. “You hurt me.”

“Who the fuck are you?!”

It doesn’t matter that he’s stopped in the middle of the street. Yoongi puts the car into park and twists in his seat to see the person behind him better. Any feeling of intoxication has swiftly left his body. He doesn’t think he has sobered up so quickly in his entire life.

The guy appears to be a few years younger than Yoongi. His shaggy black hair falls into his eyes, though most of his face is obscured by the large hood of his mossy-green sweatshirt. Looking down, Yoongi sees that he’s in a pair of black basketball shorts that are inappropriate for the cool autumn weather. Tattoos of strange symbols litter his hands and creep up his arms, from what Yoongi can tell. The thought that his teeth look sharp like Seokjin’s do flashes in Yoongi’s mind, but he’s too freaked out to linger on that. Imagined sharp teeth are nothing compared to how the younger man’s eyes glow with a turquoise ring around his black irises.

Despite the fear those eyes strike in Yoongi’s body, he can’t help but admire how beautiful the man is. Something about him feels… otherworldly, Seokjin’s voice sounds in Yoongi’s head.

“My name is-”

Whatever the man says is lost to Yoongi. His supposed name is nothing Yoongi has ever heard before, sounding more like strange clicks and whistles instead of a real language.

Apparently sensing Yoongi’s confusion by his mouth hanging open, the man gives him a nervous smile. “You may call me Jungkook if that is easier for you to pronounce,” he whispers hardly loud enough for Yoongi to hear. “When I am in this realm, that is the name I go by. Elder Seokjin gave it to me.”

Realm? Elder?

Yoongi shakes his head while his palms press into his eyes. Maybe if he slowly counts backward from ten and focuses on his breathing, the marijuana-induced hallucination will disappear.

Silently, he mouths the numbers until he finishes his ten seconds of attempted meditation. To his chagrin, he opens his eyes to see the strange man sitting on the edge of the backseat with his hands clasped between his thighs. He watches Yoongi in earnest.

“I can tell that you are upset.” He speaks slowly as if he thinks Yoongi may not be able to understand him. “There was nothing else that I could do, sir. Elder Jimin and Elder Seokjin closed the portal when they left after they assumed I had returned home without them. But I was in the garden! I do not like the smell of marijuana. It hurts my head so badly. I needed to get fresh air until you left.”

The man waits rather impatiently for Yoongi to respond. He fidgets in his seat, though he keeps his eyes locked with Yoongi’s. His gaze is so intense that Yoongi has to look away.

It’s too much.

Before any more bullshit can spew from the guy’s mouth, Yoongi flings the door open, snatching the keys before slamming the door shut behind him. His hand shakes as he presses the button to lock the doors, leaving him standing outside and the younger man inside.

He looks up at Yoongi through the back window with confusion. Yoongi could swear that the turquoise rings around his eyes dim.

Turning his back to the car so he doesn’t have to look at the man anymore, Yoongi finally takes out his phone. It takes Namjoon three calls to pick up, but Yoongi can’t be mad; he’s just grateful his friend picked up at all.

“Yoong. It’s three-thirty in the morning. Hobi said you never came home.”

There was a reason why he called Namjoon instead of his roommate. Hoseok is such a heavy sleeper, Yoongi knows it would have been pointless to try.

“I need you to come get me. I don’t really know where I am, but there’s a guy in my car.”

Silence on the other end of the line makes Yoongi grow antsy. He lets out a loud huff, then another to indicate the sense of urgency he needs his friend to share with him.

“What?”

“I’m not kidding, man. There’s some random fucking dude in the backseat of my car.”

Yoongi takes a peek over his shoulder. The guy has crawled halfway into the front seats and is pushing the buttons on Yoongi’s radio. Probably fucking up all his saved stations. Yoongi lets out a hiss.

“Bro, you’re tweaking.”

“Fuck you, I’m serious.”

“Tweeeeeaking,” Namjoon drawls. There’s a giggle in the background, the soft deepness of the sound unmistakable.

“Give Taehyung the phone.”

For a few seconds, Yoongi only hears more giggling and some rustling. He tries to respect his friends’ privacy and not ask why they are still together so late at night.

Eventually, Taehyung murmurs a greeting. “Hey, boss man.”

“Come pick me up right now. This dude is refusing to get out of my car.”

“What if he hotwires it, and when you go back in the morning, it’s gone?” Taehyung raises a valid concern, but Yoongi isn’t in the right mind to think with common sense.

“Then it’s fucking gone! It’s a piece of shit car anyway!”

Taehyung gasps. “Don’t talk about Mary Jane like that!”

Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. Maybe he is tweaking. The universe must agree since he turns around to see an empty car.

“Yoongi?” Taehyung’s voice is small and distant.

Yoongi holds his phone a few inches away from his ear and stares at his car in disbelief. He slowly approaches it, peering into the windows to inspect the backseat. There’s nothing.

“Uhh… nevermind. I’ll be fine. Make sure Joon drinks some water, okay?” He hangs up before Taehyung has the chance to question him further.

With trembling hands, Yoongi unlocks the car and slides behind the wheel. Another quick look around confirms that he’s again the only person in the car. How was it possible for the other guy to get out? Yoongi knows that he locked the doors when he got out. But perhaps he unlocked them from the inside, and the alarm didn’t go off? Yoongi can’t think straight, but he supposes it doesn’t matter. His car is empty.

It remains empty for the rest of the drive. Yoongi is on edge the entire time, but he has calmed down considerably by the time he parks on the street near his apartment.

However, Yoongi doesn’t feel true security until he’s in bed, after showering away the smell of weed and the tingling feeling of his skin. The marijuana is put away, although he hides Cosmic Collision in his closet. He doesn’t know why, but something tells him to keep the odd strain to himself for now.

With how droopy the weed made him and the stress of the ride home, Yoongi quickly falls asleep to his Pink Noise playlist and tries not to dream of turquoise-ringed eyes.

Yoongi loves autumn Saturday mornings. He loves snuggling into his blankets while the sun gently kisses his skin. He loves tilting his head to see red and gold leaves glowing in the sunlight outside his window. He loves knowing there’s nothing that needs to be done, that he has a day to slowly move through the kitchen in his pajamas with a cup of coffee and a blunt with nowhere he needs to be. He loves gentle days.

Today, he does not have the pleasure of enjoying a gentle day.

Rather than the sun waking him, it’s his roommate. Hoseok squeezes Yoongi’s shoulders a bit too tightly as he shakes the older man awake.

“Yoongi,” he whisper-yells. “Yoongi, you didn’t tell me you had someone over. He’s really fucking hot, I get it, but you have to tell me! I just walked out of my bedroom naked, which I should be able to do since it’s my apartment, and I knew you wouldn’t be up yet, and surprise! Some gorgeous man is sitting on the couch, eating my chocolate chip cookies, by the way, staring at my dick! Do you know how embarrassing that is?!”

With squinted eyes and a scrunched nose, Yoongi stares up at Hoseok. To be perfectly honest, all he heard was hot, naked, cookies, dick. Which… Is not what one expects to talk about before their eyes have even adjusted to the daylight.

“Wha-what, Hoba, what?” Yoongi forces himself into a sitting position.

Hoseok flaps his arms at his side and lets out an exasperated sigh. “Your hookup is still here. And he saw me naked. And he’s eating my food. That is what I’m trying to tell you.”

“My hookup?”

“Yes, fuck. He’s really sexy in an adorable kind of way. I was shocked. Not really your usual type, but an improvement, honestly,” Hoseok rambles.

Ignoring the subtle dig at his taste in men, Yoongi tries to focus on the meaning behind his roommate’s words. He is no stranger to casual sex but seldom brings people over out of respect for Hoseok. It’s a situation precisely like this that he tries to avoid.

“But I came home straight from Jin’s… Didn’t I?” Yoongi wracks his brain, desperately searching for some kind of missing link. “I swear on my life, Hoba. I swear on my life I went to Seokjin’s and came straight home. You can ask Joon and Tae. I called them after I left because-”

Hoseok leaps back as Yoongi rips the blankets off of his body. “Fuck!” He flies out of his bedroom, feet barely touching the ground.

He’s breathing hard when he bursts into the living room.

The man from the night before - Jungkook - is cuddled up on the couch. He’s wearing the same outfit, though his hood is lowered now. Yoongi can see just how disarmingly beautiful the man is without the fabric obstructing his view. His face is round with flawless skin that practically glows in the daylight. His bangs are sticking out in all directions, hair mused in what Yoongi assumes is bedhead. Yoongi can’t help but find him kind of adorable, especially when his cheeks are puffy from stuffing so many chocolate chip cookies in his mouth.

Except he shouldn’t be fucking real! Or in his apartment!

As Yoongi steps closer, he notices the turquoise rings around Jungkook’s irises. Fear that Yoongi can only describe as primal tickles the base of his spine. It’s impossible to stamp down, no matter how many deep breaths he takes.

“You.” He points an accusatory finger. “You.”

Not his most intelligent moment, but his brain doesn’t know how to function anymore. A cookie-covered smile makes Yoongi falter, but he does his best to maintain a stern expression.

“Good morning, Yoongi! Your apartment is kind of dirty, but it feels cozy. I like it.” Jungkook places the now empty container of cookies on the coffee table. The action draws Yoongi’s attention to the stack of other empty food containers, beer bottles, weed residue, and game controllers littering the table’s surface. Maybe he is dirty.

Nah, fuck that. This is not what’s important right now.

Yoongi shakes his head, his shaggy blonde hair falling into his eyes. “Why are you here? How did you get here?”

Hoseok makes an odd sound that Yoongi desperately tries to ignore. But then he feels the press of a warm hand against the nape of his neck, and he can’t brush him off from how tightly Hoseok is digging into his skin.

“Yoongi…” He sounds like he’s about to scold him.

Before he can start, Jungkook hops up from the couch. Both strangely-tattooed hands lift upward, about chest-high, and he twists them to hold his palms out.

“It is my fault, Mr. Hoseok.”

“Just Hobi.”

Jungkook nods. “I did not explain the situation well. Elder Jimin and Elder Seokjin told me never to speak to humans about this, but I don’t know what else to do. No one else from our team is here, and they must wait until the next cosmic collision for the portal to reopen.”

His voice trembles as he speaks, and Yoongi worries the guy is about to start crying. He tugs at the many hoops adorning his earlobe and rocks on the balls of his feet, much like children do to comfort themselves.

Maybe he’s a dick, but Yoongi would prefer not to deal with a stranger crying in the middle of his living room.

“Cosmic collision? Like the weed?” He understands all the individual words Jungkook uses, but none of them in how he has strung them together.

The man bites his lip. His teeth wiggle as they dig into the pink flesh. At night they had appeared sharp, but in the daylight, they are blunt and almost too big for his face.

“Not the weed,” he says without further explanation.

Hoseok’s grip on Yoongi’s neck tightens until he turns to look at him. Human? He mouths not so subtly.

Yoongi shakes his head. Nothing about any of this makes sense. With a sigh, he runs his hands down his face and grimaces at how oily his skin feels.

“Look,” he starts, furrowing his eyebrows in Jungkook’s direction. “I’m gonna take a shower. And then I’m gonna drink a cup of coffee. By that point, I expect you to have called Jin or Jimin, fuck, I don’t care who, to take you home. Okay?”

Jungkook opens his mouth, likely to protest, but Yoongi tuts his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “Nope. I said what I said.”

“Yoongi-ya,” Hoseok protests on behalf of the bewildered man. He follows Yoongi back into his bedroom, awkwardly wringing his hands as he watches him look for clean clothes to wear. “He seems genuine…”

“Genuine?” Yoongi scoffs.

Hoseok shoots him a glare. “Yes.”

“Did you not hear him, Hoba? Humans? Cosmic collisions? Portals? Last night he said he goes by ‘Jungkook’ when he’s in this realm and made some weird ass clicking sounds like The Predator, like that was supposed to be his fucking name.”

“Okay… that is a bit strange… But I think you’re being harsh. Clearly, the guy is confused, and if he’s a friend of Jin, I think you should be nicer to him.”

“Jin gives me the creeps, too.”

“Yoongi!” Hoseok untangles his fingers to wave them around. “Just, just take your shower. I will get all of us coffee, and we will sort this out.”

They do not sort this out.

While Yoongi showered, Hoseok probed Jungkook a bit further. It was all more or less the same, though. Utter nonsense.

He discovered that Jungkook didn’t know what coffee was, didn’t seem to understand why Hoseok had initially been upset that he’d seen him naked because “nudity is the natural state of all humans,” and seemed shocked that Hoseok could “alter” his features - pointing at the deep orange he had recently dyed his hair. As if to explain his thought process about the hair observation, Hoseok watched with thinly-veiled horror as Jungkook’s hair turned a deep purple right before his eyes.

Needless to say, as Yoongi inches his way into the kitchen after a shower that should have been refreshing but only left him feeling cold, he does not expect to see Hoseok leaning across the kitchen table to stare unblinking at their odd guest. Their odd guest whose previously-dark hair is an icy blue.

“Umm?”

Hoseok lifts his eyes to Yoongi. They’re bright and full of wonder, so shiny Yoongi worries he might be on the verge of tears. Out of sadness or something else, he’s not sure.

“He’s magic.”

Jungkook giggles at Hoseok’s declaration. However, one look at Yoongi’s narrowed eyes makes him clap his hand over his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“He can change his hair color. And his eyes! See, look. Show him, Jungkookie.”

Jungkookie? In the time it took Yoongi to shower, they’d gotten on nickname-level?

Pouring himself a cup of coffee, Yoongi forgets about his previous threat to kick Jungkook out. Instead, he sits at the table, lets the mug warm his hands, and tries to tell himself that the wave of heat burning down his body is from the coffee and not the intensity of Jungkook’s stare.

A stare that glows brighter the longer Yoongi looks at him until he watches the turquoise rings turn a deep pink. When Yoongi finally pulls his gaze from his eyes, he sees that Jungkook’s hair compliments his new eyes.

“What in the actual fuck?”

“I can change other parts of my body, too!” Jungkook beams. He shakes his head, and his hair returns to its original black. His eyes’ turquoise rings replace the pink. “It takes a lot of energy to change big things, like my facial structure. Hair and eyes are the easiest. I made myself taller when I first got to Earth, though. I like being tall.”

Yoongi slumps in his seat. If Hoseok wasn’t here witnessing this, he would assume that the weed Seokjin gave him was fucking with him harder than he could have imagined. But Hoseok is entirely sober and untainted by Cosmic Collision.

That means only one thing.

This shit is real. Whatever the fuck this is.

“Where were you before you came to Earth?” Hoseok is too willing to go along with this. But, on the other hand, Yoongi feels like everyone is playing a game he doesn’t know the rules to.

Jungkook’s nervous lip-biting returns, but he seems to push through his feelings. “Our planet is called Zephipra.” He shoots a quick look at Yoongi. “It is further into the universe than you humans have visited. Your scientists do not know about us.”

“So you’re an alien?” It comes out like a challenge without Yoongi meaning for it to. He feels a tiny bit bad when Jungkook deflates, closing in on himself as he draws his shoulders inward.

“We don’t like that term.”

Hoseok reaches an arm across the table. He flips his palm upward as though offering it to Jungkook to hold.

“What is a better term for you?” he asks softly, and Yoongi envies his roommate’s ability to be unconditionally kind.

It takes a few minutes of silence before Jungkook hesitantly squeezes Hoseok’s hand.

“I suppose extraterrestrial, but my people are called Zephi. That is also the language we speak.”

The gulp of coffee Yoongi takes is scalding. He should have waited for it to cool, knows this means his tastebuds and throat are burnt to shit and nothing will taste good for days. But he needs something to do as Jungkook rambles on about the history of aliens like this is all real.

Hoseok hums along, asking a few follow-up questions when something Jungkook says confuses him. Yoongi finds it all confusing, but he doesn’t say anything.

“So,” Hoseok claps his hands together and startles Yoongi out of his thoughts. “You said you’re stuck here until some kind of space phenomenon happens?”

Jungkook nods.

“And there’s absolutely no other way to get home?”

Another nod.

“Hmm…”

Yoongi accidentally catches Jungkook’s eyes once again. He knows his cheeks burn, but he doesn’t understand why. The heat only dissipates once Jungkook averts his gaze.

“How long does it take, usually?”

Jungkook draws the coffee Hoseok fixed for him closer. He peers down at the dark liquid and gives the light steam radiating off the surface a few sniffs. Yoongi doesn’t want to find how he scrunches his nose adorable, but he can’t stop the thoughts once they start.

“Hmm, usually a few weeks.” He looks at Yoongi again, and Yoongi really wishes he’d stop doing that. “Sometimes a month or two, right?”

Yoongi’s eyebrows shoot up into his bangs. “How would I know?”

“Well, how often do you purchase marijuana from Elder Seokjin?” When Yoongi doesn’t respond, Jungkook sighs. It’s the first time he looks genuinely upset. “I have never been here alone.”

By the time what Jungkook has said clicks in Yoongi’s head, he and Hoseok have migrated back to the living room. Yoongi scrambles after them as he pulls up Discord on his phone. No new messages from WWHandsome#7451.

Scrolling through their history, he finds that there is a pattern to how often Yoongi buys from him. Once he sorts through stoner memes and news articles about the legalization of marijuana at the federal level, he can see that each conversation about picking up a new order occurs around every four to five weeks. Yoongi rarely initiates the conversation; he doesn’t have to. Seokjin will let him know he has a new supply, and Yoongi suddenly realizes that, yeah, he’s almost out. He mentally joked with himself about how astute Seokjin is, that he must have some sort of supernatural sense to know when Yoongi is running low.

Now Yoongi wonders if there’s more to it than that.

“Are you not supposed to be here on your own?” Hoseok drapes a blanket around Jungkook’s shoulders and tucks him into the corner of the couch where the cushions are the comfiest. With Jungkook taken care of, he flops onto the couch beside him, leaving Yoongi room on the opposite end.

Although Yoongi considers himself to be a pretty reliable guy, Hoseok’s ability to take control of an emotionally-charged situation is Yoongi’s saving grace. Unfortunately, he’s not the best when it comes to emotional shit.

Jungkook tugs at his earrings once again. His other hand curls into a fist he repeatedly hits on the top of his thigh. It’s not hard or aggressive, but it’s distracting.

“No. I am an… intern? I believe that is the correct term. Only researchers are allowed on Earth alone. Interns must stay with their research mentor. Mine is Elder Seokjin.”

Hoseok lets out an understanding hum. He peeks at Yoongi out of the corner of his eye, but Yoongi doesn’t think he gives Hoseok much to go off of. Yoongi still has no idea what to think about all this; his brain won’t let him.

The three men are silent for what feels like forever. The air is full of tension, although Yoongi wonders if he’s the only one who notices it. Jungkook simply looks worried, his fist still thumping against his thigh and his fingers playing with his earrings. Hosoek is almost completely relaxed. Yoongi knows his roommate well enough to tell from how his shoulders sag, and that he’s reaching for the pre-rolls and lighter resting on the coffee table.

“Is this the 93 Boyz?”

Yoongi shakes his head, amazed that his friend can casually light up a joint as if this is just a normal day. “Chem Valley Kush.”

“Nice,” Hoseok speaks out of the corner of his mouth before inhaling as he brings the lighter to the tip of the joint.

Jungkook makes a small noise, perhaps a cough, when Hoseok exhales. His cute little nose wrinkles up, and Yoongi remembers that he doesn’t like the smell of weed.

“Want some, kiddo?” Hoseok hands the joint to Jungkook, who hesitantly pinches it between his fingers like a snake ready to lunge at him.

With furrowed eyebrows, he brings the joint to his lips and sucks in the smoke. Yoongi averts his eyes when Jungkook looks up at him through his lashes, cheeks pink and hollowed. There’s something about the guy that makes Yoongi’s skin crawl.

Despite his dislike of the smell of weed, Jungkook takes a few hits of the joint like a champ, only coughing once, and even then, the sound was dainty and soft.

Yoongi accepts the joint from Hoseok when Jungkook passes it over. He tries not to think about how Jungkook’s lips had just wrapped around the end of the joint, the same place Yoongi is about to put his lips. He keeps the hit quick and deep, passing it on to Hoseok before he’s barely inhaled fresh air to push the smoke further into his lungs.

Only after Hoseok starts the second round of the rotation does he say, “Well, you’ll just have to stay here until the collision or whatever happens.”

Yoongi’s heart drops into the pit of his stomach while a blinding smile blooms across Jungkook’s face. “Whoa, wait a second. Why can’t he go back to their house?”

“We can’t leave him alone!” Hoseok chastizes him as though this is the most obvious solution to their dilemma.

“Hoba, where is he going to sleep?”

“Your room.”

Yoongi scoffs. If it’s Hoseok’s bright idea, it should be him giving up his bedroom. “Then where am I sleeping?”

“The couch.” Hoseok shrugs and passes the joint to a still-hesitant Jungkook. “Or with him, if you’re gonna be a little bitch about the couch. Do you care, Jungkookie?”

Jungkook inhales too deeply and sputters a rough “No, of course not” in between coughs that sound painful.

There’s no way in fuck Yoongi’s going to sleep in the same bed as an alien. “Do ali- I mean, Zephi, even need to sleep?”

Smoke rushes out of Jungkook’s nostrils. The rigid set of his jaw makes him look older and more angular. The masculine aggression of it makes Yoongi’s stomach twist - which he ignores.

“Yes,” Jungkook hisses. “We are not freaks.”

“No one said you were, kiddo.” Hoseok lightly flicks Jungkook under the chin before shoving the joint in Yoongi’s face with a grimace. “You, behave.”

With that, Hoseok rises from the couch. He places his hands on his hips and looks between the two men. Yoongi hates when he gets like this, calculating. Usually, whatever that over-imaginative brain cooks up is never good for Yoongi.

“Is there anything at your house you need while you stay with us?” Hoseok asks with his head tilted to the side as he examines Jungkook.

The alien - Zephi - chews on his bottom lip. His cheeks are still pink, as are his eyes. Except this time, it’s from being high rather than being some supernatural oddity.

“They took all my things when they returned home,” Jungkook admits after a long pause. He stares at his hands in his lap, lacing and unlacing his fingers to the point that Yoongi wants to grab his wrists and force them to his sides. “I don’t require much, though. I do not want to be a bother.”

At that, he steals a shy glance at Yoongi. Yoongi feels heat spread over his cheeks, so he opts to look at Hoseok instead. Which is a mistake because his roommate is glowering at him.

“Jungkookie, no matter how much of a dick Yoongi is, I promise you are not a bother,” he speaks to Jungkook but keeps his eyes on Yoongi.

“I’mnotadick,” Yoongi grumbles. He folds his arms against his chest and stares at his reflection in the TV. It’s not a clear reflection, but it’s enough to tell that his hair is, rather unfortunately, sticking straight up on his head.

“Anyway, I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes. I tend to wear them baggy, so they should fit you fine. I have to go to work soon - I’m a hairstylist. Fucked up, working on the weekends, right? Ahh, but anyway, you can stay with Yoongi.”

Jungkook merely nods with bright, round eyes gazing up at Hoseok as though the man is divulging his most remarkable secrets.

“And if he’s mean to you, you can, I don’t know, shoot him with lasers out of your eyes or whatever scary things you’re capable of.”

“Oh, I would never do that,” Jungkook quickly disagrees, turning those beautiful eyes to Yoongi.

“You can do that?”

“Yes, but I promise I wouldn’t do that to you. I promise.”

Yoongi throws his head back against the couch and groans. His body starts to slip down the cushions, but he does nothing to stop himself from falling onto the floor.

“You cannot leave me with him, Hoba.”

“Oh, hush.” Hoseok swats the back of Yoongi’s head as he makes his way to his bedroom to get ready. “You’ll be besties in no time.”

do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my work

#yoongi x jungkook #jungkook x yoongi #yoonkook au #min yoongi #bts fanfic #yoongi fanfic #yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #bts smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook fluff #cosmic collision #jai writes #gimmethatagustd

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lauronk · 5 months

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hi @freetobeyouandmichi-me love, thanks for the ask!

in my happy little streetlights world, by the time ellie miller is 18 and they’re celebrating christmas, they’ve got four years of figuring out traditions and they’ve got it pretty settled by now:

they do Christmas Eve dinner with tommy and maria and open their gifts to each other

maria (lovingly) coerces everyone into pajama sets for a picture. She got ellie’s size wrong the first year - she got the correct size but ellie likes them a size bigger for extra coziness - but has made sure to get it right every year since

(this is the year maria is pregnant with TJ, which they’d shared before Thanksgiving)

Christmas morning is just ellie and joel. He drinks coffee and she drinks cocoa (with an absurd amount of marshmallows), even when it’s 75 degrees out, because texas y’all

they do stockings first, just little knickknacks and funny gifts (one time they gave each other pet rocks, which they each still have). joel gives ellie scratch offs and then tries to claim a “purchasing fee” when she wins more than $5

The first Christmas joel went a little nuts on gifts (it’s a big deal, their first Christmas, sue him) but it made ellie a little uncomfortable because a) she only had like two things for him, both of which were homemade and b) she’s never really been on the receiving end of so much positive attention at the holidays. So joel makes sure to tone it down in subsequent years even when his brain is screaming at him to spoil the fuck out of her

they do just a couple gifts for each other now. this year it’s just little useful, thoughtful things: guitar strings and good quality art pencils and silly socks.

joel gives ellie the full charcoal art set she mentioned offhand one time over the phone, and ellie gives joel a new toolbox to replace the one that finally bit the dust (and she puts some silly mushroom stickers she found on Etsy on it)

after presents, it’s movie time

ellie gave up two years ago on arguing that Die Hard isn’t a Christmas movie and now she watches it without complaint (and loves it, not that she can tell him that)

joel is more tired than he can say of the first two Home Alone movies but those are ellie’s picks, so they watch and he always finds himself laughing when the Wet Bandits step on ornaments and get hit with paint cans

(he says “why the hell’d you take your shoes off?” to ellie a lot and she automatically responds with “why the hell are you dressed like a chicken?”)

they stay in their pajamas all day, the ones maria got them this year, and eat leftovers from yesterdays dinner plus whatever candy they’ve accumulated

ellie always falls asleep by the end of Muppet Christmas Carol, like clockwork, head on a pillow on joel’s lap

ellie’s on break from school till the new year, and joel takes Christmas through New Year’s Day off so he and his employees can have a break. So it’s a week of lazy pajama days, visiting other friends, just enjoying occupying the same space before life starts up in earnest again and it goes back to quick hellos and goodbyes in the morning

anyway I just had a couple thoughts about it 😅

#streetlights pointed in an arrowhead #i really didn’t mean to come up with this much but it just kept flowing #a little of it is based on my own preferred Christmas activities #but pretty much i gave them a fluffy happy Christmas #because this is my fluffy happy universe with no apocalypse #and i love it here #did you see the little nods I put to a couple other fics? because the multiverse is real 👀#tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #joel and ellie #joel and ellie headcanons #merry chrysler #the last of us

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thetomorrowshow · 2 years

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Grian was obliterated by a sonically-charged shriek

GoodTimeWithScar died

“Tim?”

Jimmy doesn’t look up. Not yet. Instead, he gazes down, closer, at where Scar had spontaneously exploded into nothing, his possessions flying every which way. It had been a lonely death for both of them. Like his own.

“Tim,” Grian says again, and Jimmy looks up at him. He looks . . . like himself. A bit frazzled, a bit of Red still glinting in his eyes, but that’s just Grian, really. Behind him, Scar waves, fully clothed once again.

“Why are you here?”

Jimmy almost laughs at that, because where else would he be? He’s always been here, in a sense. So has Grian.

Grian’s different, though. Grian fights back. Grian doesn’t want to be here.

Jimmy closes the eyes he has on Martyn and Pearl and Etho and focuses all of his attention on Grian. “I have to be here,” he says eventually. “You know that.”

And maybe Grian pretends he doesn’t know, but the look Scar gives him is not insignificant. Scar knows Grian quite well, has been around him long enough, will stay with him (Jimmy can See the strings that still connect the two, can See that their futures are sewn together into one seam). Scar knows a thing or two about Seeing.

Grian snorts. “Who are you hanging around for this time? Scott, Martyn, Joel—the game’s over, Timmy. Go home.”

“Funny,” Jimmy mumbles, a pang echoing through his chest. “That’s just what Tango said.”

“Listen to him,” advises Grian, patting Jimmy heavily on the shoulder. “You’re on a new server, aren’t you? Something about kingdoms?”

Grian knows full well where Jimmy lives. Jimmy feels his eyes sometimes, late at night when they’re both supposed to be fast asleep, a foreign sense of panic and then relief at finding him exactly where he’s supposed to be. He humors Grian, though, nods.

“Right. Go there. Forget about these guys, they’ll be along soon enough. Yeah?”

There’s something hopeful in Grian’s tone, in the way he almost-but-doesn’t grab Jimmy’s hand.

Jimmy hates disappointing people.

He shakes his head. “My work here isn’t done,” he says softly. “You know that.”

Grian’s jaw tightens, his face smoothing over into blankness.

“Fine. Do what you want, I can’t stop you.”

Grian could try to stop him, if he really wanted to. He was always so powerful. But the avian glances at Scar, then back at Jimmy, and Jimmy wonders briefly if Grian really thinks Scar doesn’t know.

After all, if Scar was any less aware of the situation at hand, he wouldn’t be able to see Jimmy at all.

There’s not another word from Grian as he stomps off, disappearing into the mist that surrounds them. Scar hangs back, shoots Jimmy what’s likely meant to be a calming smile.

“He’s just grumpy that he got us killed, don’t worry about him,” Scar says jovially. Then, quieter, more considerate, he adds, “He’s scared for you. He thinks you’re . . . employed against your will, shall we say.”

“I’ve been a Watcher for quite a bit longer than he ever was, thanks,” Jimmy retorts, and to Scar’s credit he doesn’t even blink. “And he knows what I am, who I am. Tell him if he’s got a problem with that, he can bring it up with the Prophecies of Old, all right?”

Scar grimaces. “I’m sure he knows . . . whatever that’s all about. Season Eight just spooked him, is all. And then this. . . .” he clears his throat. “He'll be back to regular-ol’-Grian in no time! Well, gotta get back to my theme park. See ya, TJ!”

And then Scar’s gone, mist covering him in one great cloud and then breaking apart to reveal he’s vanished. Jimmy nearly laughs—typical Scar and his magic tricks.

There’s still four pairs for him to Watch. And from what Jimmy’s seen (and what he’s Seen) of this game, he knows which ones are going to lose.

His going first had been a given, really—he has to be outside of the game to really manipulate anything. Tango had been an unfortunate byproduct of that.

Next was Ren and BigB, mostly due to Grian’s trap prophecy—and maybe Jimmy ought to find an assistant, because it’s getting rather hard to keep track of all these prophecies and bring them to fruition, but he managed that one rather nicely and then made certain that none of Grian’s traps worked for the rest of the game, which ultimately led to his downfall.

It’s just the four pairs left now, and it’s easy to push subconsciously for the portal to be trapped, and even easier to push both Joel and Etho through it. He had planned for a while for them to die, but Etho’s slippery and Joel’s unexpected, so he feels some sort of vindictive pleasure when Joel swears his way through the After and into the Beyond (trying to forget the abject horror with which he Listened to Joel’s agonized pleas for Etho to find safety, to not feel this pain).

Impulse and Bdubs are an easy choice after that, even though Pearl really should not be able to win that fight. Bdubs Sees a bit more than he should, sticks his tongue out at Jimmy as Impulse pulls him back to Hermitcraft, seeing nothing.

And then he has to end it.

Jimmy can See his friends, the smudges of dirt and dried blood that paint them, the haggard lines of exhaustion in their faces. He can Hear the desperation in their thoughts, the way their voices beg for mercy.

He’s perhaps the only one who can grant it.

And he’s made his choice.

Maybe it’s the ghost of his voice that whispers for Martyn to turn against Scott, and maybe he chooses Martyn because of how well Martyn Listens, but Martyn just tilts his head, nods, and nocks a firework.

Cleo doesn’t want to go along with him, but she has to. Jimmy makes sure to eliminate all of her other options. He sends them after Pearl. He wants to give the victor a little more victory before the end.

When they die, they appear beside Jimmy just as everyone else has, but unlike everyone else, Jimmy speaks to them.

“Hey, Martyn,” he says, and Martyn looks every which way before his face dawns with comprehension.

“Timmy,” he chuckles, even as Cleo frowns at him. “Thought the voice sounded like you. Third again, Tim—have you got something against me?”

“Who are you talking to?” Cleo asks. “We’re alone.”

“It’s not your turn yet,” is all Jimmy can say. He’s not sure when it’ll be Martyn’s turn—there’s dozens of prophecies he has to sort through before deciding which threads to follow next time, and he doesn’t even know if any of them have Martyn as a winner. The Watchers and Listeners alike are rather frustrated with Martyn lately; he wouldn’t put it past them to make him suffer for a while.

“That sucks. Least I didn’t kill myself this time, am I right?”

“Sure. Good job, Martyn.” Jimmy tells him, voice purposefully placating. Martyn doesn’t sputter in outrage, though, as he would in the games. He just shoots a tired smile in the opposite direction of Jimmy (who Sees it anyway) and says,

“How long are you here for?”

Cleo rolls her eyes and steps into the mist, past death. Martyn lingers, waiting—hopefully, almost—for an answer.

Jimmy checks up on Scott and Pearl. They’ve still not met up, yet, Scott taking a moment to rest before finding her.

“Not long,” he says after a moment, the bloodlust that’s been plaguing everyone’s thoughts for so long (and giving him a horrid headache) finally beginning to abate. “Why?”

Martyn shuffles his feet a little bit, shrugs. “I dunno. Figured you might not want to be alone after this, might want to hang out. Yeah?”

Jimmy doesn’t remind him that he’s got an entire server to return to, plenty of friends waiting for him. He knows that Martyn’s not asking for Jimmy’s sake.

“I’ll message you,” he promises, and Martyn smiles again before fading into the mist.

Then all that’s left is the victor.

And Scott.

And Jimmy, of course, but he doesn’t ever really count himself when it comes to these games, even when he’s still within them. He’s always out first, he always has to be—and not only for prophecy purposes. Grian really doesn’t like Watchers—or any sort of outsider—intruding on his territory, but someone has to be there to make sure there’s safe passage to another world.

Scott’s making his way toward Pearl now. Pearl’s still cuddling her dogs, telling them all about how she won.

And then Scott’s there, just behind her, and maybe it’s a little push from Jimmy that puts the idea in Scott’s head, gets him to start unbuckling his chestplate.

It’s not like Scott will ever know. With the Red bloodlust, Scott would be lucky to even recognize thoughts that are his own.

Pearl doesn’t like it. She doesn’t like Scott’s tower of tnt, doesn’t like that he’s talking to her, could be a distraction—her fingers flex around the sweat-stained leather of her sword hilt, ready to block any attack that comes, ready to slash the wire of a fishing rod—but Scott simply smiles, congratulates her, and lights his pyre.

She screams, quick and cut-off because soon enough Scott’s dead and just afterward she’s dead.

The world relaxes under Jimmy’s hands, held taut for so long. He relaxes as well. It’s over. It’s finally over.

Scott turns up before Pearl, and Jimmy, knowing all, knows why—he’s let her ghost linger for a few moments, long enough to say farewell to her dogs.

Scott looks around, and there’s a light behind the fading Red in his eyes that tells Jimmy exactly what he’s looking for, exactly what he’s remembering.

“No happy ending this time, eh?” he asks with a quirk of his lips. Jimmy chuckles. Scott can’t hear him or see him, though, so it’s a moment of humor reserved for himself.

Scott turns to leave, but pauses. “Don’t forget MCC this weekend, yeah?” he tosses over his shoulder. Then he’s gone.

And it’s just Jimmy.

And Pearl, who has suddenly appeared.

“Oh,” she says quietly, then louder, “hello? Is anyone here? Scott?”

She’ll leave soon enough and forget her loneliness, so Jimmy turns his attention toward more pressing matters. The world’s going to collapse entirely soon—otherwise it would just be taking up space—and Jimmy helps it along, grabbing a line of code and yanking, watching it unspool an entire hill. That’s always going to be satisfying to him, no matter how many times he does it.

A sound from beside him—she hasn’t left yet, oddly enough. “I’m still alone,” Pearl sniffles, and one unseeable eye blinking open before her shows Jimmy that she looks so terribly lost, tears just forming in her eyes. “Except I don’t even have Tilly with me, here. It’s just . . . me.”

What’s left of Pearl’s tower folds in on itself, vanishes as the world itself begins to twist. Box crumbles. Jimmy winces as his own grave cracks and disappears.

Pearl’s crying, Jimmy realizes with a start, a fat tear rolling down her cheek before she can stop it. She rubs at her eyes with the torn sleeve of her hoodie, takes in a shuddering breath.

“I wanna go home,” she whispers to no one, and Jimmy wonders why she doesn’t. “Which way is home?”

Oh. If Jimmy isn’t mistaken, she’s glitched.

It’s not the first time he’s had to deal with a glitched player in one of Grian’s death worlds. Last game, Bdubs’s final death had glitched similarly, leaving him stuck in the limbo of the void. He’d started to become Watcherish for the week that he was stuck, looking down at the game below and eventually Seeing. It had taken Jimmy far too long to try the simplest solution, the one that actually got him out, after working through dozens of different ones.

This time, he takes Pearl’s hand before he tries anything else.

She gasps, but she doesn’t let go. Instead, her grip tightens around Jimmy’s not-quite-corporeal hand.

“I’ll lead you home,” he tells her, knowing she’ll hear nothing.

Pearl, to her credit, follows.

She doesn’t stop crying, which is awkward for Jimmy, really, because how is he meant to comfort someone to whom he is nothing more than mist right now? And sometimes her cries are less anguished and more angry, and that’s a whole issue that he really doesn’t want to deal with so maybe it’s better that he can’t help.

She’ll start feeling better once she’s on Hermitcraft again. Red still stains her skin and mind, leftover from being Last. Both Grian and Scott had each had a particularly difficult time shaking off the despairing bloodlust after their respective wins.

But neither of them had glitched. Both had moved on almost instantly to their next servers. Pearl is stuck here with all of those warped feelings.

He doesn’t envy her position. He does pity it.

It’s not a short walk to Hermitcraft, but not a particularly long one either—Jimmy leads her into the mist for maybe ten minutes before he starts feeling the pull, that distinct Hermity feeling that tells him in gentle whispers that this is where Pearl belongs.

He releases her hand and her defenses shoot up, face guarded and one hand ready to punch while the other grasps aimlessly at nothing.

She needs a final push, then. If she were more in her right mind, she would have sensed the pull of her home.

And she just looks so terribly lonely.

So Jimmy forces all of his strength into giving his body weight and wraps her in a hug.

She’s surprised, and murder is still very much at the forefront of her mind, but after a moment she relaxes into it, hugs him back, her hands grabbing for a body that isn’t there to her. She sighs, butts her head up against him, her head finally going quiet enough that it isn’t grating on Jimmy’s ears.

“Don’t know who you are,” she says. “Too tall to be Grian, which is who I expected, really. Thank you, though—whoever you are.”

“You’re welcome,” Jimmy responds, and she still doesn’t hear him, but she lets him ease her into Hermitcraft’s current before releasing her to disappear into it.

And he’s really been alone for quite some time, but finally he’s alone-alone, with no more voices and faces that he has to keep track of. He can just close all of his eyes and stop Seeing and stop Listening and just Stop for a moment.

There’s so much paperwork to do.

He could stay here to do it. Once he’s done overseeing the destruction of the server he could just hang out in the timeless nothing of the void, where no one can bother him and he can get it done on time, rather than cram it all into his schedule the night before the deadline.

Or he could go back to Tumble Town, finally get a chance to relax. Stretch out in his own bed with Deputy Norman by his side. Get dirt under his fingers, feel the mesa sun beat down on him, build something with his own two hands. It’s really not a tough choice to make.

He’s always been more Player than anything else.

So Jimmy goes the way Joel and Scott went, follows the thread that whispers of Empires until he finds the current, lets himself be washed away into it.

He’ll definitely do some of that paperwork tomorrow. Totally.

Jimmy wakes with a gasp, lungs frantically filling and refilling after so many days in the void without needing to breathe. He’d forgotten how much of an adjustment period properly having a body is (at least it’s not as bad as waking in the Cod Empire had been; the air of the mesa is much thinner and doesn’t feel like soup sliding down his throat).

Other than his breathing, it’s quiet. Not quiet in the way of the void, the suffocating silence only broken by the words of the dead. Quiet in the way of the world—wind kicking up a bit of sand outside, the cry of a faraway bird, Norman purring at the foot of the bed.

He thinks maybe he’ll build a shop today.

Jimmy takes a few more long minutes to figure out how to breathe and move before forcing himself up. He rolls out of bed, pulls on his jeans and buttons up his shirt. He grabs a bite of hardtack before stepping into his cowboy boots, dusts the crumbs off his hands and pins his sheriff badge onto his vest.

He’s about to step out the door when he realizes he’s almost forgotten the most important part! On a hook by the kitchen table is a beautiful ten-gallon hat, and he swings it on and fingers the part of the brim that’s already wearing thin before marching out the door, ready for a day of living.

A violet eye blinks open in the back of the hat.

#double life smp #trafficblr #dlsmp #double life fanfic #mcyt #jimmy solidarity #traffic smp #solidaritygaming #watcher jimmy #listener jimmy #listener martyn #ask to tag #empires smp #I TOLD YOU I WASNT HURTING HIM IN THIS ONE #so welcome to my new au #will be on ao3 once i title it #i don't currently have any ideas for writing more of it #but there's. there's a lot of lore here #the day the last dl ep came out i went into a haze and emerged two hours later with this #i didn't even know what it was about until the next day #there's so much lore for this au that i'm probably not gonna do much with #just bc i have other focuses atm #but basics: jimmy is a triple threat and the first one ever #which means there's a lot of prophecies abt him #and he's learning how to fulfill prophecies so he can bring peace to his peoples etc #very chosen one-esque ik #mas writes #anyways lmk what you think!#love you guys

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ginoeh · 6 months

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Hey @tj-dragonblade thank you so much for your Spotify Wrapped ask! Sadly, it got eaten and spat up scrambled by tumblr so we're doing it this way...

You asked for #58 which is 'Where the Heart is' by Haevn:

This song has a carrying, uplifting and kind of yearning tone. It sweeps through you and leaves behind hope, anticipation, a bit of fear and the prospect of endless possibilities at the horizon. The text is kinda next level. Please check it out lol.

This would be the story: Dream learns to lay down his burdens - a leap of faith.

Dream has struggled for millenia, an endless climb along the towering and mired boughs of the duty he calls his own. His imprisonment has only shown him the deepest of the shadows he is laboring in.

And then there is the meeting with Hob. It's like climbing out of the shade - breaching the canopy of a cursed forest and realizing that there is still fresh air and life; wind and change. Propelled by the heady feeling he admits that Hob was right, he is lonely, he has missed Hob during his years in imprisonment.

They start to meet more often; Dream knows this is not advisable but he can't help himself. When he follows Hob's life in the Waking - still so mired in dreams and hopes for the future - he feels free of his duty for however long he dares to lay aside his mantle.

It cannot go on forever, though. Below him, in the dark, there are still the burdens and sorrows of his function. He cannot fathom the freedom Hob has.

“What would you do, then? If you were fully and completely human? Nothing more than that, no duty, no function, only endless time and possibilities?” It's a moot question, Dream thinks and doesn't give Hob an answer, because what is he if not his function? Is he anything at all without it? It's the same question he had asked of his sister, all those months ago - and Hob's answer is intrinsically different than hers had been. Still, the question echoes in his vast consciousness long after Hob as psoed it.

Their outings change in tone; where before, Hob has taken Dream along, Dream finally does what his sister had bid him for many many centuries now: he learns what humanity is made of when not asleep and dreaming.

He finds that he loves it, because of and despite its many failings. Or maybe, he remembers something he has always known. Is his love of the world Hob shows him (and maybe his growing love for Hob) worth trying? There is a precipice that he's walking towards. He knows but hasn't made himself acknowledge it yet. There is his function below and behind, and there is the oblivion of endless night and his sisters wings above. He needs to choose - change or die?

Hob notices the shift in Dream's bearing, how he goes from aloof amusement in whatever Hob chooses to show him to honest and intense focus. Watching Dream turn his full interest onto the world is a beautiful thing to see. Maybe Hob wishes his friend would turn that interest onto him - because it's becoming increasingly harder to keep up the pretense of normalcy when everything he wants is to make Dream the center of his universe. But there's something his friend seems to be working towards, some decision that he's on the cusp of making, and Hob knows, intrinsically, that if he interferes, disaster might descend.

Dream, as is his very nature, isn't one to rationally and openly plan things through. And yet, after a fading night of watching the painted skies of the northern lights, drinking a too hot and too bitter coffee from a thermos, wrapped in blankets on the backseat of a borrowed car and pretending not to hear how Hob's teeth chatter, he thinks that he needs to talk with his older sister - and with the Prodigal.

He takes Hob along on a journey, featuring an awkward reacquaintance of Hob and Delirium who seem to know each other, a heartbreaking and enlightening conversation with his son, an unexpectedly enthusiastic offer of help from Destruction - and finally, a stilted confession and plea to Death.

In the end, when everything is set up and said and done, when lives have been ended and changed and the furies have come and gone, Dream takes a leap - takes the hands of his closest siblings and goes where his heart is, where light might still be found and where there is the possibility of a story that isn't lonely but entwined with Hob's who is ready to wait for him.

(Spoiler: they fall in love, after. In increments and ever deeper, sometimes to the ruin of those around them, sometimes to their gain. They are watched, always, but Death and Delirium are the only ones that ever visit.)

#im incapable of leaving out the orpheus storyline #its about the pivotal point for any story about Dream and change #dream of the endless #hob gadling #the sandman fanfiction #ginoeh writes #the spotify wrapped thing #dreamling

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demon-girl-2004 · 2 years

Text

Gender not specified

Romantic

Request by @lazywolfwanted

Request: Well, how about Wukong and Macaque reaction of S/O crocheted? Like how they made him a small adorable plushie of themselves

S/O making a plushie of themselves

Nezha rebon sun wukong

He’s over the moon he thinks it’s the cutest thing ever and he puts in a small pocket in side of suit and pulls it out whenever he’s stressed and holds it close. He genuinely loves it and holds it close to his heart

“Awwww baby! It’s so cute!!”

Monkey king RB

He hates it or at least that’s what he shows you, in reality he loves and cherish it. He keeps it on him at all times, and yes he takes it into fights and yes get dirty and ripped but he tries to fix it himself

“Why would you waste your time making this stupid thing?! Yes I want it!”

DOTA2 sun wukong

He loves it, he absolutely loves it. And he keeps it on his bed and yes he does sleep with it. But he doesn’t take it everywhere with him. He’s to afraid it’ll get ruined and break ot something so he keep it’s safe and sound in his room.

“How cute, yes I love it I’ll be sure to keep its safe”

SMITE sun wukong

He’s confused but greatful! He doesn’t understand why you gave a plushie of yourself to him until he starts to miss you and holds the plushie. Then he gets it and then he’s really REALLY greatful for it

“This little plush you have given me is great! Thank you”

LEAGUE OF LEGENDS sun wukong

He’s so excited for you tj give him a gift! But honestly he’d prefer fuirt! But he’s still more than happy with his gift!! He loves his gift!! He keeps it in his room as like dota he’s afraid of it being ruined.

“It’s so cute! And it looks just like you!”

LEGO sun wukong

He’s in LOVE with the plushie and he always has it on him, tho you can never see it since he hides it really well. He’s not afraid of it getting messed up since he can just ask you to fix it so he takes it into fights too. It’s his lucky charm.

“Of course I always have it on me! It’s my lucky charm! Not that I need luck tho!”

LEGO macaque

He’s Absolutely smitten when you give him the plushie, he thought his affection couldn’t go any deeper for you but oh! Was he wrong! He loves it and had it in a very safe place in his house. He would be crushed if something happened to your gift.

“I will cherish this, thank you starlight”

Masterlist2

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georgiapeach30513 · 2 years

Text

Every Other Weekend, Part 6

Summary: You and TJ go out, and Jack and Callum show up

Pairings: Jack O’Malley X Reader, TJ Hammond X Reader, Mickey Henry X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, smut, PIV sex, one night stand, mentions of divorce, tears, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 4.4K

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Hey!” Jack says excitedly when you call. You never call on your weekend, “Wait, is something wrong? Is Finn okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine,” you hated this. Hated every bit of it, and missed when life was just simple. When you could call him because you missed the sound of his voice. “TJ was wanting to go out tonight, and it’s my weekend. Finn wants to spend the night with my parents, but I wanted to check and see if you wanted him?”

“Oh,” he hesitates, looking over at Cal. “Um, I already had plans.”

“It’s okay. I just wanted to give you that option. Also, wanted to talk to you about maybe getting him on a weekday. He misses you. Maybe have a night or two of dinners at the house? You’re better at math anyways.”

It felt normal and strained all at the same time. Felt so forced, and it almost felt like you were holding onto whatever strings you had left of your family. “You know I want to spend as much time with him as possible,” it was one of the few things you wanted from Jack. An available father. “So where’s the dynamic duo going tonight?”

“We’re going out,” he was such a slime ball sometimes, always trying to trick you into telling him where you were going. You knew he was going to be doing his own research, and he would find you.

“Hmm,” he playfully chides you. “I’m guessing you two are dressing in all black, TJ is going to have his fancy little martinis, and you can’t even fake classy like that when it comes to your alcohol, you’re going to have a bottle of beer in your hand, and you’ll be dancing up a storm. Just stay away from pool tables.”

Both of you sigh, remembering happier times between the two of you. It was bittersweet to think that it all started with a pool table, drinks, and TJ and Callum. “You and Cal have fun tonight. I’m picking the boy up tomorrow, and we’re going to see a movie,” you leave it open for a second, hoping that he will invite himself. Unsure of why you did it. But there was still a deep longing for your family. For your husband. You just couldn’t trust him.

“If you’re going to go see the latest Batman movie, do you mind if I tag along?”

“You better ask our son. I need to get him to my parents, and get ready. Have fun, Jack.”

“You, too,” he clicks off, and puts his phone on his chin thinking. Contemplating everything that you had said, before jumping up and looking at your social medias.

“What are you doing?” Cal asks, peeking around Jack’s shoulder. “Get off her page.”

“Her and TJ are going out tonight,” he says, clicking through your recent activity. Nothing. You were a ghost online, but not TJ. TJ wants everyone to know that he’s having more fun than everyone else.

“They should. TJ is good for her, and you won’t have to worry about her having sex,” Jack turns to glare at Cal, and he holds his hands up in surrender. “No one has her back quite like Teej, you know this. Ooh!” He points at a local club that was hosting a new DJ, “Can we go there?”

“Yep,” Jack answers, putting the address in his phone. “We’re not the only ones.”

“Jack!” Cal throws his head back dramatically. “You can’t go chasing her around all the time.”

“No, you said I needed to try. I’m trying. Me and her have open dialogue. She can actually look at me again. She invited me over for dinners at the house with Finn.”

“You’re not weaseling your way in, are you? Like you legit want to be with your wife? Want to wake up in the bed with her every morning? Want to clock out, and go home to her every night? Want to deal with the hard stuff? Want to see your son every day? Want to be there for her? And want to compromise and have another kid? This isn’t some conquest. This is a woman that does in fact love you, maybe she’s still in love with you, maybe she’s in love with the idea that she had in her head of you. But you can’t just do this, and spend time with Finn and then flake away. You have to be there for her during the hard times. Have to have arguments, without turning to someone else who will just tell you what you want to hear. That woman is who you talk about things with. Open yourself and be vulnerable.”

“Yeah,” he answers. Standing up to walk out of the station, “Like I know this is stupid, but I realize what I had, now that it’s gone,” he gets a hard whack in the back of the head at that admission, “I know, I’m dumb. I am a dumb man. I wanted to have it all, and now I have nothing. But she and my son are what I want. This isn’t just to prove that I can have her whenever I want. This is wanting the life that I should have been working to have with her. They don’t make women like her.”

“Yeah, she made the best lunches. And now, I don’t get snacks. You messed up my snack time for me Jackson. I miss those cute little boxes of a cheese and meat platters. With the little nuts, and jellies. It was like a charcuterie box. I’m going to tell her I want that. She’ll make me one. I haven’t pissed her off. So we’re going to this club, and you’re hoping that she and TJ will be there?”

“Yep. They’ll be there, or we’re going to look like idiots.”

“Correction, you dance like a white boy. You’re going to look like an idiot.”

“Stop dancing with me,” TJ yells in your ear, trying to pull away from you, but you pull him back. “That fine as fuck DJ is checking you out. Keeps smiling at you, and that tall drink of water keeps thinking I’m straight because you won’t quit grinding on me. You’re cockblocking me. Again. And yourself,” he gives a wave up at the DJ trying to push you away.

“Don’t leave me. He’s working,” you glance up at the man, and he was smiling the whole time, and directly at you. Waving his hand for you to come up there to him. “Oh!”

“See! Now, go suck his dick while he plays or something,” you smack him in the stomach, and his obnoxious and roaring laughter lifts your mood even more. “Not everyone you date has to be on that app. You can meet people out in real life. Go talk to the man.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll…I’m going up there,” you depart from TJ, going up to the DJ which you find out quickly his name was Mickey. He even pulls you in front of him, teaching you how to work the turntables. Getting close to your body quickly.

TJ sits at the bar, ordering up another martini when he sees Jack and Cal walk in, and starts laughing. Raising a hand to the two men, and they trot over to him, “Quit looking,” TJ says, pointing up at the stage. Jack’s face falls for a minute seeing you smiling and laughing. “She just got up there. He’s been watching her all night.”

“She looks beautiful,” his eyes drift all down your body. You and TJ always did make a statement when you walked in somewhere. Coordinated enough, but could still attract the people you wanted.

“She looks hot,” TJ responds, taking a sip from his martini. “You went digging on my facebook didn’t you?” Jack looks over at him quickly, and TJ shrugs, “You’re predictable Jack. You can’t stand not to snoop. And yes, I put that shit out there to lead you to where she was going to be. She’s not on a date with this guy. She’s flirting.”

“He looks sloppy,” Jack notes, looking down at his clothes. TJ pulls apart one of Jack’s layers, and then another. “What are you doing?” He slaps his hand off him.

“How many layers do you have on today? Your wife has a type, and it starts with the clothes,” Callum throws his head back, starting to laugh, but Jack squints his eyes, glaring at TJ. “Ain’t none of y’all going to win best dressed. She stays with me, so we can look good together, and then she has you and whatever that is to make her look like the queen she is. Look at fucking Dean.”

“Don’t talk about that man. I have a meeting with him on Monday. He’s talking to Finn about his mom,” TJ points up at you, and Jack shakes his head. “She’d pull Dean’s testicles off his body if she thought that he was including Finn in her dates. I think she ended it with Dean,” TJ nods his head quickly, “Okay, she definitely ended it with Dean, and he doesn’t like it. So he involves our son. She…I gotta go,” he bolts off quickly when he sees you start to walk off the stage, and TJ slaps at Callum’s arm.

“Big guy, that sweet thing right there is checking you out. Now, if you would please, I have got this man that I have wanted to talk to you, and if it isn’t my bestie, it’s you and Jack. Talk to her, dance with her, take her home. Jack is busy.”

“You think this is gonna work?” TJ shrugs his shoulders, taking a sip of the martini, already tapping his finger on the bar for another. “They love each other. They know they love each other. She’s stubbornly trying to prove she doesn’t.”

“She still believes Jack slept with that woman. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t. Doesn’t matter. She thinks he did. She’s stubbornly trying to prove she doesn’t love him, so she doesn’t get hurt. She’s sleeping around, because ‘he did’. That woman is struggling because her heart starts in her vagina. But Jack has something no one else does.”

The two men look at each other, and both respond, “Finn.”

“Jack will always have a piece of her heart because that’s Finn’s dad. She wants things to work. But she’s playing the game like Jack did. One foot in and one foot out.”

“Our friends suck,” Cal looks over at the woman that TJ had pointed out, and nods his head at her. “If Jack plays his cards right…”

“No, you watch, he won’t be going home with her. I think she really meant it when she said she wasn’t going to sleep with him,” Cal points over towards you and Jack, and you were laughing at whatever he was saying. Your hand finding any excuse to touch him. “She’s had a few beers. And a couple of shots.”

“Twenty bucks says he goes home with her.”

“Thirty bucks says he just gets a kiss,” TJ puts his hand in front of Cal, and they both shake on it. Going their separate ways with their prospective partners for the evening while you giggle again at Jack.

Grabbing at his hips, you tell him to loosen up. “Have fun!”

“This is so fun. So very fun,” he responds sarcastically, and you throw your head back laughing, but grab his hand to place on your hips.

“Feel the beat. Or just feel me,” he gulps, as he tries to dance around with you. He was definitely feeling you. Had your undivided attention, and you were ignoring the DJ and only looking at him. Your eyes were shining up at him, and the two of you were laughing. You weren’t just Finn’s parents at this moment. You were two people enjoying each other.

“That’s better,” you giggle, turning around, and his hands pull you closer to his body, “Oh, we’re going back to the good ole days, huh?”

“Remind me of how good you can dance,” circling your hips, you lean forward a bit, starting to grind on him. Even he gets into dancing. Relaxing enough to enjoy the beat of the music, but mostly your ass on his crotch. You close your eyes, and forget about the past. Push aside everything that has happened, and will yourself to live only in this moment.

Your hand goes behind you, and you hold onto his neck. Jack takes a chance, and leans forward, softly kissing on the column of your neck. With your first whimper, he nibbles on your skin. Kissing up your neck, before he comes to your face, and you were looking at him through your lashes. Your pupils a deep sea of lust. Your fingers wiggle around on him, urging him closer.

His eyes flash down to your lips, and you pull him even closer. Inching closer and closer, so slowly, before his petal pink lips touch your own. The moment he touches your mouth, your body spins around, so you can deepen the kiss. Granting his tongue access quickly. It was muscle memory, but it was so full of passion. You hadn’t kissed him like this in so long. Hadn’t felt him like this for years.

Jack’s hand starts coasting up your side, and his thumb brushes over your nipple, and you yip on his mouth, and he pulls you closer. Starting to walk backwards, and get you somewhere private. A heated moment between two old lovers. He starts kissing down your neck, looking around the crowded club, and you blink your eyes open.

Purple haze surrounded you; intoxicating you. Those thick fingers caress your soft curves, and you hear a scratch of the record, and realize where you were. Remember just who was sucking on your neck, and you push him off you, “I can’t do this.”

“Sharkie, wait.”

“I’m not some hookup, Jack. I can’t,” he grabs at your hand, pulling you back to him, “I can’t. I can’t give you that.”

“Let’s just leave then,” there was so much sincerity in his face that it hurt. A deep rooted pain fills in your gut, and you hated the way it was making you feel. “We don’t even have to do anything. Let’s just go home,” you shake your head no. Your vision goes blurry as your eyes fill up with tears. “Why?”

“I can’t do that with you. I don’t trust myself with you.”

“Why?”

“Because I always fall,” you pull his hand off your own and start to walk away. Getting closer to the stage, while Jack spins on his heel, and marches out of the club. Screaming the minute he gets out, and Cal and TJ look at each other from across the way.

You were already waving your hand to Mickey, who calls another man to take his place, sinking deeper away from the crowd ready for some privacy. Cal walks outside to Jack who was sitting on the curb, “What happened?”

“We kissed,” his foot toes the ground, but his eyes stare blankly at nothing. “Not just a little peck, but a real kiss. It felt like the beginning of our relationship again. Everything was fine.”

“You were trying to fuck her in there, weren’t you?”

“I don’t know. She thinks that’s what it was. I don’t know. I really don’t know. I wanted somewhere more private, but we could have left, and just snuggled on the couch. It doesn’t always have to be sexual. But I know that’s what she thought it was. I know she sees me looking at her as an easy way to get my dick wet, and that’s my fault. Robyn got the sweet flirty side of me, and she got only my dick,” he throws his body back on the pavement looking at the sky.

“Get up off the disgusting ground.”

“I deserve to be down here.”

Cal sits down on the curb with him, nodding his head. “I really did cheat on her, didn’t I? Like me giving the best parts to Robyn, even when I was living with my family. She told me there was no passion in our love making anymore. I just used her to get my dick wet. She was supposed to be my everything. I was with Robyn when my son was in the hospital. My son was unconscious and my wife was alone. Scared about our son, and worried about where I was. And I was drinking coffee with another woman,” Jack starts laughing, closing his eyes, and slams his hands over them.

“I would leave me, too. I love her. And I hate that it took all of this to see that. But I felt it, and I know she did, too. I know that she felt that spark the moment that our lips touched. She could feel this passion that we hadn’t had in years. It was just like old times sake. And here I was just wanting to get away from the noise, and she took it as using her for her pussy. Because that’s how I made her feel. I made her feel like she wasn’t worth anything besides what sits in between her thighs. And she’s running from what she really feels because I’m dumb. I wanna drink. I just want to drink my sorrows away.”

“You’ve got a movie date with them tomorrow. You can have one more beer. You’re not drinking your sorrows away. You’re going to the movies. You will be Finn’s parents. Finn needs the both of you. Monday, you’re marching in and telling Winchester to leave your kid out of his former relationship,” Jack whispers okay, and Cal stands, giving him a hand.

“She loves me, though,” he smiles up at Callum. “She can’t fake passion. I knew at the end it was just sex between us. That though…that kiss had sparks. Had desperation and need. Because my wife still loves me.”

“Come on lover boy.”

TJ opens the door where he had seen you and Mickey run off to, and you were sitting on top of him. Ass exposed as you bounce over him. “I’m gonna lock this door,” he says as he closes it quickly.

Your arms wrap around Mickey’s neck, letting him kiss all over your skin. You were just going through the motions. But he was enjoying himself. Deep panting breaths as he sucks bruises on you. His long fingers cupping your ass and slamming you down harder on his length.

Mickey was just as touch starved as you, and he made sure to touch and kiss every part of your body. Even though this didn’t mean a damn thing, he makes you feel like you were the only one. He was touching you in all the right places. Kissing all over your body, not neglecting any exposed skin, but he couldn’t stop returning to your mouth. Swallowing all your moans was becoming an addiction and his favorite flavor. You wanted to forget, but in the twenty minutes you are with him, it felt like for just that time, you were in love again. If only for these precious few minutes.

You didn’t do this anymore, and yet here you were having the most meaningless sex with someone you barely knew. Didn’t even know his last name. But TJ had armed you with condoms, and you were pissed. Mad at yourself for allowing your vulnerability with Jack to sneak out. You let him know just how fragile you were when it came to him.

And now here you were taking some man you just met. Was balls deep, and between his vocal performance and your squelching sounds, the two of you were quite a pair. Letting the pleasure seep its way to your own throat, you moan as you get closer. Hoping that he cums quickly, because you didn’t know if you could go for more.

Now you just wanted to go to sleep. Couldn’t properly enjoy a good fuck because it was making you feel disgusted. Both his hands cup your face, and he swallows every whimpering mewl as your walls clench down tight around him. Squeaking out his own pleasure, before his head throws back, “That was amazing,” he pants. Holding onto your hips when you try to get off.

“Where are you doing?” He was a pretty little thing, but there was no way that you could see this lasting. Had no desire to bring him around your son.

“Can we do this again?”

“Not likely,” he snorts, finally letting go of you, allowing you to stand up. You shimmy your dress back over your hips and thighs. Going to reach for your panties, but he grabs them up off the floor, “You’re keeping my panties?”

“Well, since I don’t get to feel that tight pussy again, it only seems fair that I get to jerk off into these pretty lacy things. Looks like I made you cream before you ever even pulled me back here,” you nod your head, letting him think he was the reason for your ruined panties. It was easier for yourself to admit that.

Jack terrified you. Made you realize that you fell so hard, fast, and easy with him. And you weren’t sure you could ever give yourself to someone like that again. “Good luck with the music, Mickey.”

“Yeah, if ever you’re needing a quick lay, I’m here. I know it’s not serious.”

“You just caught me at a bad time in my life.”

“Even divorced mother’s need sex,” you give him an odd look, and his head flicks towards your hand, “There’s a tanline on your finger. Mothers are usually pretty guarded. You protect yourself to protect your child. It’s not that deep,” he grunts, pulling the soiled condom off, and stuffs his dick back in his pants. “I hope you find your happiness. Everyone deserves that.”

“Thanks,” you whisper, giving him a kiss to the cheek. You walk out, and TJ pouts on the opposite wall, holding his hands out to give you a big hug, “Can you sleep with me tonight?”

“Not like that, right? Like you got a good fill? I don’t think I could get it hard for you,” you pinch his butt. Keeping your head leaned over on his shoulder as the two of you walk out. “How do you feel?”

“Like shit,” he hands over your phone, and gives you a big smile. “What?”

“Who’s Frank?”

“Shut up.”

“Who is Frank? I clicked out of that picture so fast. I didn’t see anything, but a hairy chest, and those deep v’s on hips. You two sending nudes? Is he your next victim?”

“No!” You shout, slamming yourself into the backseat of the Uber. “No, Frank is different.”

“But you’re sending pictures?”

“That just started,” TJ gives you an almost sad smile, and you lay your head back on his shoulder. Wrapping both your arms around his one. “I don’t want to rush into things with Frank. He’s never been married. He’s a professor. He wants kids. Knows that I have a kid. And he scares me.”

“Why?” He leans over giving you a quick kiss to your head. Your eyes blink close as a single tear falls down your face.

“Because, these other ones I’m talking to, I’m not really connecting with them, you know? I’m talking to them, setting up dates, knowing it won’t be much. Frank I talk to. Frank I like. Frank I don’t want just sex with. But…what if he’s not Jack?”

“You won’t know, until you know.”

“You think I should make it work with Jack?”

“Make it work? No. That forcing bullshit never worked in the past. I think you should let things progress with Jack the way they are. Integrate him more with Finn. Have your family dinner nights. Don’t deny what’s happening with Frank or whoever else. But let things grow organically with Jack. He’s a good dad. He’s a great guy. He wasn’t the best husband. I love Jack. But he had his flaws, just like you should have been honest with him about what you knew and what you wanted from him. You shouldn’t have asked for a baby to save your relationship. There’s not a perfect timeline for you and Jack. Grow in the way that your fast asses didn’t allow in the beginning. Two months. Pregnant. Three months. Married. You guys didn’t know how to take things slow. Take it slow now.”

“You’re right,” TJ usually was. “It feels…comforting having Jack be with me and Finn.”

“That’s his dad.”

“Yeah.”

“But you still want him as your partner?” You nod your head, ready to cry on his chest. “It’s okay to want it, and to be scared of it, and want to explore other options. Don’t feel guilty about needing to make sure that Jack is who you want.”

“What if he doesn’t want to wait on me to decide?”

“Then,” he says, opening his door. “He really isn't who you were supposed to be with. For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sure Jack is set on making things work. But unless you're willing to forgive everything that happened in the past. Push it back and let it go, don’t go there, okay? Now Oreos and milk?”

“Please,” you pout as he drags you in the house. Stopping in the kitchen, while you strip out of your clothes on the way to the bedroom. Tossing aside your heels, and you grab one of Jack’s shirts and some clean panties. Jumping in the bed, and TJ appears with a pack of Double Stuf Oreos and a glass of milk to share. Stripping down to nothing but his boxer briefs.

He doesn’t make a comment about the shirt that you’re wearing. Never says anything about how it smells like Jack’s smoky cologne. He is just there for you. Letting you cling tight to him when you’ve had your fill of cookies. TJ was such a good friend, he didn’t make a comment about the tears you were spilling on his chest, and trying not to make a sound. He knew you were hurting and conflicted. So he was just there.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @infatuatedjanes @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @feyfantome @calirindo @whimsyplaty92 @charmed-asylum @elrw24

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mmagoats · 8 months

Text

MMA GOATS - Blog 1

The question “Who is the greatest of all time” or “Who’s the G.O.A.T” has always been a question asked anytime people are great at the things they do. In the realm of MMA especially, this question is one of the most heated and argued you could try and answer because of how the game is constantly evolving along with the fighters and their styles and also because of the sheer amount of fighters that have come and gone throughout the history of MMA. But in my list, I’ll chose fighters that I think are undeniably great that they stick out from the rest. So I'm going to try and rank all of the greatest fighters based on their achievements, what they brought and or meant to the sport of MMA and based on how they inspired me to get into combat sports.

In my goat tier list, the fighters are going to be placed between 1 and 10 with ten being the absolute top goat of MMA and one being at the bottom respectively. Also, each spot can and probably will hold more than one person because I believe that there has been too much talent throughout the history of MMA just to be put into a top 10.

With all that out of the way I want to state some of my honorable mentions before I start the list.

Maurício “Shogun” Rua

Shogun Rua is definitely a great, competing in Pride where he held wins over big names such as Rampage Jackson, Alistair Overeem and Big Nog. It’s more because of who he took out and the age he did it that I find impressive enough to have me place him here, but definitely other have done it better.

Wanderlei Silva “Axe Murderer”

Fighting for reasons to be desirable, Wanderlei is one that sits comfortably in honorable mentions for claiming the middleweight championship at Pride, holding title defenses and competing for multiple grand prix. I find his story compelling and his drive being the aspect I wish I had (plus his nickname is cool).

TJ Dillashaw

Arguably the best bantamweight champion the UFC had for his time, being a two time champion with multiple title defenses and an unrivaled underdog story. He’s here because he was the first great champion in his division so I almost feel obliged, but in my opinion is not the best in regards to the people that came after him.

“Big Nog” Antônio Rodrigo Nogueira

The big brother and other half of “Little Nog”, Big Nog fought in early Japanese fight promotion alongside people like Fedor and later fought in UFC and Pride. I think it’s his rivalry with his brother he always end up winning against that I can relate to.

Alistair Overeem

Another name that deserves a place in honorable mentions, a man who learned martial arts to defend himself from bullies and held multiple heavyweight champion titles and the first to hold world titles in MMA and kickboxing at the same time. He’s here because he’s the first on the list that has reached double champ status, but did so in a division at a time that I think was pretty simple and boring, lacking technique and skill (but still, something about 200 pound men kickboxing makes for great entertainment that I’ll get my attention).

Quinton “Rampage” Jackson

Rampage Jackson started as a wrestler at the age of 17, eventually trying out MMA after the success of other wrestlers, something that led to him getting multiple championships in the likes of UFC and Pride. Overall, he a great fighter but a better personality and I find him to be just a likeable person.

Chael Sonnen “The American Gangster”

Chael was a notorious figure during the early days of UFC in 1997 and a great villain for the scene, deserving a mention for not just his skill but his trash-talk and the eyes he brought to the game even though he never won a title. The only reason he’s here and not on the top is that I want to give a chance to the other fighters to be on my goat list of MMA, otherwise he would take over the entire thing.

#bellator mma #mma

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jake-a-day · 9 months

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Update:

So he’s gone heavily downhill. Jake is not really himself anymore and he’s clearly suffering. The decision was made so much quicker than I was expecting, but we have to consider his quality of life.

He’s been staring into space, always exhausted and heavily panting, his rib cage has bowed out from how enlarged his heart has gotten. His gums are blue, there’s almost no recognition in his eye.

The decision has been made. Tomorrow, Thursday 31st August, we are sending him across the rainbow bridge. My dad and I found some clay so we can have memorial paw prints made, and we’re looking at what other options we have from the place the the vet works with for it.

This has been one of the hardest moments of my life and everything feels way too soon. But I have to do what is best for my boy. He’s not happy, he’s clearly suffering, he’s not really all there anymore. So as much as we want him to stay, it’s not fair to him anymore.

We love him more than anything. If we could give air from our own lungs to help him live better and longer we would. And we know if there was another option to help him live a happier and healthier and longer life then we would take it in a heartbeat.

He will always be with us in our hearts and if there is a heaven he will be there waiting. If a soul exists, he has one. TJ and Jake will be together tomorrow and hopefully some essence of our boy will live on in TJ.

I don’t think I’ve cried this much in my life, but I need to remember all the wonderful moments we’ve had together. Any last words before 3pm GMT tomorrow I will pass on to him. Thank you to all of you who show your love for Jacob every day. -Jen

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ckgrouchy · 1 month

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B12 headcanons even though no one asked (more random facts based than lore based)

georgie

- seems like one of those guys who make cringe pov tiktoks

- playboy type of guy

- gives "helpful" relationship advice but all his relationships either end really quickly or drag out too long

- gymbro, shows off his muscles to the other members

- tried to act all tough and cool but immediately gets flustered when someone even acts the slightest bit sweet to him

- georgie is just his nickname, he never got over how cringey it sounded especially for his whole persona, but it's what his mom call him and he can't make lose the nickname his mom gave him

- seems very chill, easy to get along with

- had a very close relationship with his sister, therefore treats girls like goddesses (in other words, with respect)

- kinda insecure about his hairline so he hides it with his huge hats

- kind of guy who had bad taste in clothing, wears the most random stuff

parker

- soft baby boi

- likes to sew his own clothes (the other members make fun of him for this, but he doesn't seem to mind)

- only joined the boyband business so he could exploit his looks and earn money

- an artistic kid, he used to show his drawings to his parents (albeit they all ended up in the trash)

- extroverted growing up, so doesn't know the concept of boundaries (he's trying though)

- gives the other band members shitty nicknames based on their appearance

- had neglectful parents, therefore always trying to get attention from someone, anyone

victor

- tomboy

- doesn't have a mother so she ended the way she is today

- sort of a loudmouth, can't shut up about things she's passionate about

- had a lot of brothers, only girl in the family

- mostly wears hand me downs from her brothers

- can put up a fight if desired, once beat up an entire gang

- georgie's teaching her how to become a gymbro

abraham

- incredibly introverted, took a little while for him to settle in

- likes doing mundane activities like organising and cataloging, pretty much helps keep the group on track of upcoming tasks

- lacks in self confidence so he doesn't believe it when he achieves something really big

- boris is his best friend (can't convince me otherwise), they just fit together

- the most rational out of everyone

boris

- incredibly extroverted (even more than parker)

- one of those guys who takes sports WAY too seriously

- plays soccer (or basically any sport) with victor and always loses, despite being a self-proclaimed sports geek

- was once a member of a gang, still wears his old clothes from said gang

- no one takes him seriously and he hates it

- really close with abraham, the neutralizer to his overreacting personality

- usually the one to start fights between the band, usually over something stupid

abraham h

- GAY

- not very approachable because of his resting bitch face

- doesn't like interacting with anyone that much, just generally a silent guy (except when he's ranting or blowing up on everyone)

- the dad of the band, almost always lectures everyone on their behavior like they're children

- legit gets migraines when he sees tj's outfits for the day

- swears... a lot

- argues a lot with boris, they hate each other

constantine

- no one can convince me that he's not trans

- used to have pin straight spiky hair and hated it so much, used lots of product to get fluffy hair he wanted, though it damaged his hair a bit...

- has a reallly fancy name but just sticks to one

- when he was younger, he had a hyperfixation that involved paegants, who knows why

- definitely a queen fan, i can just see it

- used to čüt himself when he was stressed, now his scars are healing

- loves wearing oversized clothing, but hides it from the band

- had an emo phase durning high school

#b12 american dad #american dad #boyz 12 #headcanon

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hyperfixatingonsonicsohard · 1 month

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Live Blogging: Knuckles Episode 1

SPOILERS

Awwwww Tails has a plane bed while the others have car beds thats so cute!!

Knuckles just YOINK’d! those workers OMG!

I want to drop kick that girl-scout so bad

Omg cheif guy ghost!!!

Wait if Ghosts are cannon in this universe does that mean in Sonic 3 we might see a Maria Ghost?!

I need to see lil’ knuckles now

I love how he’s gonna train a HUMAN to continue the echidna tribe legacy/culture

I can imagine wade teaching his kids too lol

Speaking of which i NEED to see more echidna culture other than the warrior-ing

Wait GUN is in London? I thought it was a totally USA thing?

YO WHO ARE THESE TWO AGENTS

AND WHO IS THIS GUY?! AND WHEN DID HE CROSS PATHS WITH KNUCKLES?!

Omg this cinematography is beautiful wtf its a bowling alley and yet i feel like im a ballerina on stage

Aww i love this story about wade’s dad! Like its making fun of the kinda tropes like “my dad taught me everything i know” kinda thing but its also so much more realistic

FUCKING TJ-MAX

WTF WADES DAD

Wade im glad bowling makes you feel like ur dads back but he abandoned you in a fucking TJ-MAX! I wouldnt want him to be back goddamn

I BELIVE IN YOU TOO WADE!!!!

Damn I wish i was as good at Bowling as Wade and Knuckles

imagine crossing the ring for a major battle and you end up in a bowling alley lol

I love how Wade is like “oh right he was grounded i wont get in the parent’s way”

I mean, wade knows knuckles and the fam have alein government shit stuff going on. Its not a stretch to assume these two governments looking agents are an already established part of the parenting system

Theyre not but i get it wade i’d assume the same

ITS THE BIT FROM THE TRAILERS!

I saw a behind the scenes that this was this lady’s first time doing her own ‘stunts’. Honestly she looks like she’s having a blast lol(Pun not intended)

Oop! Maybe it was! Yikes!!

Yes Wade! Help your teacher!

Wade giving himself high-five as if it was what he always does made me laugh out loud

And its actually kinda sad now that i think about it :(

YO BLASTING THE GUN TO LAUNCH HERSELF THATS SO COOL

“I told you this was a battle feild!” HA!

YOO A RING GUN THATS SO COOL

They must have looked all through the Siberian snow for them wow

OH NO KNUCKLES!

“I have to-I have to-I have….an incredibly dumb idea” MOOD

Yo these credits are so cool!

Awwwww the “My Friends” CD and the Band CD?! So cute!

#knuckles #knuckles the echidna #knuckles the series #sonic the hedgehog #sonic movie

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visualnovelzombie · 1 year

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Furry Visual Novel Book Club: Echo Week 1 SPOILER DISCUSSIONS

Hi everyone, here is the SPOILER discussion post for “Echo - Saturday” (Click HERE for the Spoiler Free Discussion)

Next - Original - Spoiler Free Version

Let me know if you have any feedback for the format, and be sure to vote in the poll linked at the end of the post for which Route we’ll be doing first! This is for people who have completed ALL of Echo previously!

As we hit Start, he melancholy title theme is cut silent, only to be replaced with a droning hum on a black background. A mysterious narrator opens by saying that we’re ‘returning’ and that just like this town, we’re only going in circles, as the opening ‘Day Card’ drops.

What could this Narrator be referring to? How is the town itself going in a circle?

It is safe to presume that the Narrator is Echo-Samuel Ayers that has bonded with Chase. While there are many possible interpretations, the cleanest and easiest to me, is that Samuel (who I will drop the ‘Echo’ moniker because his ‘ghost’ doesn’t appear in game) is referring to the ‘Player’ as an entity, and that how once again we are returning to see our characters suffer through the timelines etched in stone, and how we can’t stay away from their suffering, despite our attempts to make better choices. This sets the tone and meta-narrative of the Visual Novel as a whole and is the biggest IN PLAIN SIGHT type of spoiler this game gives.

We are then whisked onto a desert highway where the main character, Chase Hunter, has a conversation with is mom.

Is there information can we glean from this quick introduction of our lead character?

My pet answer here is that Chase is the same as his mom, in more ways than one. We see later on how her gossiping causes a lot of problems for Sydney, and how she might not be the most faithful/be promiscuous. Something we see Chase do... We Also learn that Chase is dismissive of his parents opinions/concerns, and that he’s ‘struck out on his own’.

We’re introduced to two of Chase’s friends, Jenna and Tj. The trio drive down the highway and Chase eventually remarks about being “Unbalanced” with just the three of them

Is there anything we can learn about how Chase describes about his friends here?

Chase wants or needs things to be the ‘same’, just like Leo. He wants the comfort and security of how things were, even though he’s been the instrument of change and escape. He’s torn between wanting his old life (before Sam) and also wanting to escape the psychic mind prison he’s found himself stuck in.

A short discussion later and we’re met with the game’s first choice: How the main character feels about the journey.

How impactful do you think a choice so early, with so little information could be? Why would the author put something as potentially impactful as a choice so early with such little ground work?

It doesn’t. It’s a direct commentary about how “we’ll always be back” and “no matter how hard we try, we’re always moving in circles”. I also believe it’s both an ease into normalcy for VN players in general, and masking Chase as a “blank slate protagonist”, as he isn’t sure about how he feels about a very big thing he’s spent all day headed towards for HOURS. A clever masking trick and mechanical tutorial all wrapped into one.

Spoiler Discussion/Observation: It was Chase who contacted Leo about going back during Spring Break, and from there Leo plans the group hangout. This shows Chase was still in contact with Leo and if Leo was truly ONLY planning on getting back with Chase, the wolf would have probably not invited everyone else back. Of course the growing Hysteria probably threw off his intentions as we clearly see later on in the game. But also highlights how he reacts/feels in Tj’s and Carl’s route while not omnipresent.

Following the choice the trio arrive at the hotel and disembark. The first ‘musical’ track begins to play when we get our first character sprite, “Neutral” replacing the ambient highway noises, and we get our first glance at the characters we’ve been with.

Tj Hess and Jenna Begay

The trio settle into the motel room and another character is introduced, Carl Hendricks.

Our four characters discuss what they’ve been doing since highschool; Carl has dropped out of college that he attended with Chase, Chase is enrolled in a journalism major, Jenna is enrolled in a psychology major with plans set in motion to attend grad school, and Tj is in a sports medicine program at a Christian College.

Through natural dialogue the characters are able to give concise and quick insights to their interests, motives, and character disposition. An ‘exposition dump’ that provides deeper insight than at first glance (That we’ll see later!) Just a short tidbit that stood out to me as excellent writing.

We’re then introduced to two new characters, accompanied by the track, ‘Come Over’, a Flirtatious Synth Jazz piece. Chase’s tail involuntary thumps and his heart skips a beat as the two walk in

Flynn Moore

and Leo Alvarez

The group banter for a while, enjoying their meals. Chase discusses going to Lake Emma with Leo, a local reservoir, in order to complete the Otter’s school project. Leo immediately shuts the idea down, the two glancing at Flynn in the process. Chase feels guilty about the idea, and says he feels like an imposter for not knowing how his friends feel and trying to run the place after being gone for three years at university. The conversation continues, until the music is cut by Chase noticing Leo’s Anchor Bracelet. Chase is startled after Tj notices that he’s staring into space, and the music resumes with the track, ‘Banter’.

What’s happening to Chase here and why would someone need to call him out from his thoughts?

Chase has main character dissociation disorder caused by one slutty slutty old man. The physical affects show the player that the cause is bigger than a psychotic break, and that inner monologue mechanics/situations can tie into the plot line. (see Tj’s route!)

The group carry on into the afternoon and eventually snap a group photo, the game’s first CG

Spoiler Discussion/Observation: I truly believe that this photo/cg is ‘off balance’, not center-framed, because the group is missing Sydney. Without him, everything is thrown off-balance and into dismay... with Chase at the center of the cosmic unraveling.

Spoiler Discussion/Observation : Chase comments on waiting for Jenna to fall asleep before we’re met with a “...” I believe Chase is being set up for doing ~SOMETHING~ or having the capacity to do ~SOMETHING~ at night. We see this during Tj’s route, but I believe this was placed so early and has other places it can occur, as a tool for Howly to have Chase be the crazy little otter man he is more fluidly, even if we never see much more 100% concrete times of him doing this.

The group continues into the night before the three locals return home and the trio retire for the night. Chase has a nightmare where a metal chain is attached to his leg, pulling him down into a lake. Leo is there and ignores Chase’s situation, choosing instead to compares their “bracelets”, saying “everyone gets one.”

What insight does this nightmare give to earlier events? Does this event cause any tone shifts from what was previously established?

The Anchor Bracelet, the symbol of Echo, is what drives Chase to break into his own head/away from Sam for a second. His guilt and sins and worries bind him to this land (metaphysically, physically, AND mentally), and the nightmare manifests this. Leo is conversely shown to be proud of his bondage, literally wearing it on his sleeve. He also comments how “Everyone gets one”, signalling that everyone else has something that binds them to Echo too... something they can’t escape which leads to cycles of trauma they’re soon to experience/experience again and again...

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That concludes the first Book Club for this week! Thanks for reading and I hope to have a fun and hearty discussion with everyone in the replies!

For next week, we are reading all of ‘Sunday’, until the following Day Card:

Be sure not to forget to check out this poll HERE to vote on whose route we’ll start in two week! Thank you again to anyone participating <3

#furry visual novel book club #zombie book club #echo vn

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