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wileys-russo · 9 months

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please write a blurb about finding out that Lessi takes street dancing lessons, going with her to one and then her just being so clumsy!!! It’s so funny

this is longer than anticipated and went in a slightly different direction. starts off a little angsty but the end is super fluffy, still made me giggle

fancy footwork II a.russo

you sighed and tried your very best not to let your mind slowly descent into wildly overthinking the situation as you tapped your phone screen and saw it was now nearing seven, and there was still no sign of alessia.

your girlfriend had finished training at half past four and was supposed to come right home, but given it was hours later and she wasn't picking up her phone she'd clearly failed to inform you of plans she'd made.

well, thats what you were trying to tell yourself. it would be a whole lot easier if this was the first time this had happened, however it was not.

for the last two weeks alessia had seemed not herself, often home late without a real reason, or dipping off to do mystery errands and odd jobs at weird times, returning in different clothes and seemingly a lot more tired than when she left, shutting down any questions you had with a kiss and a swift change of topic.

at first you thought it could be anxiety and this was her way of coping, your girlfriend had previously suffered with it quite badly leading up to selection for the euros, panicking her hamstring would play up again or tweak and leave her out of the squad.

it had meant she'd trained harder, done extra drills, asked for more one on ones with the physio and the trainers.

only you knew in your gut this time that just wasn't the case.

you'd like to think the two of you had healthy communication down to a tee, rarely arguing or getting into rows that weren't the cause of playful banter.

on the rare occasions you did seriously disagree it was seldom that any sort of yelling was involved, you both going out of your way to listen to the other and do your best to try and meet them halfway at least if unable to see eye to eye.

your head snapped up as you heard the jingle of her keys in the door, sat curled up on the lounge with a book in your lap. you frowned when she didn't even call out that she was home like she normally would, only slipping off her trainers and closing the door after her.

"hi love." she greeted you with a tired smile, making no move toward you and instead heading upstairs toward your bedroom with her bag slung over her shoulder.

you sat for a second, internally debating if you followed her or not, eventually deciding you would as you marked your page in your book and placed it down on the coffee table. you jogged upstairs and found the blonde in your shared bedroom, riffling through her kit bag.

"what's a girl gotta do for a kiss hello?" you started lightly, poking at your girlfriend who turned toward you. "sorry, hi." alessia simply pecked your lips before turning back to her kit bag, separating the clean clothes from the dirty and you frowned at the lackluster show of affection.

"you alright?" you asked quietly, moving to place your hand on top of hers and giving her a look of concern as she glanced to you. "i'm fine, just exhausted." she answered shortly, pulling her hand away and bundling her dirty clothes up in her arms, heading toward the laundry.

"did training run late? i know the derbys this weekend and they can sometimes push you harder leading up to it." you followed, pushing yourself up to sit on top of the dryer as the taller girl began to put on a load of washing.

"no, training was fine." she murmured quietly and you let an awkward silence fall between the two of you, waiting to see if she'd make any efforts to further the conversation.

"did you do something afterwards then?" you pressed, not missing the way the girl tensed up at the question. "uh just got coffee with tooney, we caught up with jill at box2box." she answered, refusing to look up or meet your eye which sent further alarm bells ringing through your head that you tried to shut off.

"you should have told me babe i wasn't doing anything." you continued, nudging her with your foot and frowning as she pushed it away. "we don't have to do everything together, it's good to have separate friends and hobbies." the blonde replied somewhat bluntly, squatting down to fiddle with the settings of the washer.

"oh, yeah i guess you're right." you tried to mask the hurt in your voice at the comment which was incredibly out of character for the striker, the two of you normally going out of your way to do everything together, forever joking there wasn't something you couldn't turn into a two person job.

"i'll go start dinner then." you stated quietly, trying to hide the red flush of embarrassment that sat on your cheeks from the thought that your girlfriend might think you were clingy. trying to silence the doubts and insecurities which flew through your head at just a simple comment.

though glancing upward and seeing the obvious discomfort on your face guilt flooded your girlfriends features and she quickly straightened, moving to stand in between your legs, stopping you from getting down from where you sat atop the dryer.

"hey that was really rude of me to say baby i'm so sorry. i didn't mean it like that i promise, i love spending time with you." she cupped your face, pressing a much more sincere kiss to your lips and mumbling a soft i love you against them.

"its okay, you're not wrong. it isn't unhealthy to do some stuff separately." you forced a smile, still feeling a little uneasy at this piling on top of your previous worries about her frequented disappearances.

"i really am sorry gorgeous, i'm just tired and didn't think before i spoke. i missed you." she pulled you into a tight hug, the taller girl resting her chin on your shoulder and gently moving your arms to wrap around her. "i missed you too." you replied softly, sighing into her shoulder before the two of you broke apart.

"less, you'd tell me if anything was up with us right?" you asked hesitantly, the blondes eyebrows knitted into a frown as you did, both from the use of her common nickname which you rarely resorted to, much preferring more tender and sweet terms like baby or angel, and from the content of the actual question.

"of course i would baby. why?" alessia asked in return, worry seeping quickly into her bones as you shook your head. "nothing, it's silly. i'll go start dinner!" you forced another smile and tried to get down but the striker stopped you.

"hey, where's this coming from? talk to me." the blonde encouraged softly, grabbing your hands in hers and running her thumbs tenderly over your knuckles. "just drop it less, like i said it's silly, nothing even." you assured but it was to no avail as her blue eyes pierced into yours, waiting for you to explain.

"it really is nothing baby, you just didn't tell me you had plans with ella so i didn't know where you were after training and you didn't answer your phone and i just got a little worried." you spoke quickly in explanation, fiddling with one of your girlfriends rings as her hands still remained connected with yours.

"oh love, i thought i told you this morning i'd be back late. i'm sorry for worrying you, and i'm sorry i didn't include you in the plan in the first place." your blonde lover apologized sincerely and you nodded in acceptance toward her words.

"if it makes you feel any better jill and ella pretty much spent the whole time teasing me about how in love with you i am, apparently i talk too much about you at training!" the blonde rolled her eyes playfully before peppering all over your face with kisses, grinning as you finally laughed and sent her a proper smile, kicking her away.

"come on, i don't think i can be bothered to cook and clean honestly. get a chinese, cuddles and a movie?" your girlfriend asked hopefully and you eagerly agreed, squealing as she picked you up off the dryer, hands sitting securely under your thighs as she walked the two of you downstairs, seemingly much more herself than before.

but despite the reassurance you still couldn't shake the small voice of doubt sat firmly in the back of your mind.

it wasn't till days later, match day to be exact, did those voices get louder.

"oi oi if it isn't the future mrs russo!" you heard a familiar voice tease as you stood waiting for your girlfriend to change and come and meet you, leaning against the door of her car. "hello mrs bunney!" you teased back with a grin, the brunette gasping and smacking your shoulder as she joined you.

"he's gonna be the future mr toone actually thank you, if he's so lucky!" ella flipped her hair over her shoulder dramatically making you laugh. "when do you propose then? should we go ring shopping?" you mocked, the girl dropping her bag to the ground and playfully shoving you, the two of you catching up for awhile.

"so i heard you and less caught up with dear jill scott the other day, surprised i didn't see her here flying the man city flag high and yelling insults. how is she?" you made the mistake of asking, ellas face scrunching in confusion at your words.

"eh? when?" ella asked with a frown and now you were the one to look confused. "wednesday after training. less said she was late home cause the two of you got coffee and caught up with jill?" you questioned, your heart leaping into your throat as ella shook her head.

"nah man wednesdays date night for me and bunny." ella explained and suddenly it was as if your world came crashing down, the repeated excuses of going for a run with ella or a coffee with ella or a kick around with ella on wednesdays flowing through your head.

"hey, you alright?" ella asked softly, grabbing your arms as you locked eyes with her, nodding as you spotted alessia making her way toward the two of you. "yeah fine, maybe she just got mixed up." you forced a smile as ella nodded slowly, alessia arriving and throwing her arms over both your shoulders.

"ah my favourite girl, and you're here too babe." the blonde teased, the jab which normally would only be met with a playful roll of your eyes and a ribbing hit back toward her from you. though this time you shoved her arm off, quickly moving around to the passenger side of the car and slipping inside.

alessia frowned at your moody response and looked to ella with a raised eyebrow who shook her head, mumbling she needed to go and legging it away toward her own car. "what was that?" your girlfriend asked as soon as she closed her door, eyes burning holes into the side of your head.

"you lied." was all you responded sharply, only confusing the blonde across from you who awaited a further explanation, which didn't arrive. "when?" she questioned again, turning her body in her seat to face you more, keys laying dormant in her lap as the carpark cleared, her white mercedes now one of the only vehicles left in the lot.

"you told me you were home late from training because you got coffee with ella, you didn't." you again responded quickly and bluntly, not missing the guilt which flickered across your girlfriends face as you did.

"baby-" "don't." you warned her seriously, now turning to face the blonde properly as you readied yourself, more upset with her than you could ever remember being.

she'd never lied to you before, and you hated lies.

"you spun me some lovely story about seeing jill and being teased for how much you love me and how much you gush over me at training. all bullshit! why? where were you really?" you asked seriously, doing your best not to raise your voice despite your growing frustrations.

"my love-" "don't alessia. where were you?" the blonde winced at the use of her name, biting her tongue as not to beg you call her anything but that. "it doesn't matter, i shouldn't have lied."

"no you shouldn't have! and it does matter, it matters to me. you know i hate lying and if it doesn't matter to you then it can't be that big. so tell me, where were you?" you asked firmly, the blonde only sighing and refusing to meet your eyes, drumming her fingers nervously on the steering wheel.

"well? where were you?" you questioned again, a little louder this time and only met with silence, a pained look on your girlfriends face causing your stomach to drop.

"alessia are you cheating on me?" you eventually whispered out, the anger seeping from your body replaced with a crippling worry as you finally voiced the insecurities which had been plaguing your mind for weeks now.

"am i what? baby no, never. i promise!!" the taller girls head snapped immediately toward you and she scrambled to grab your hands which you promptly tugged away, tucking them in your own lap.

"why would you say that? why would you even think that?" alessia whispered in disbelief, the shock not having cleared from her face.

"well lately you seem to be coming and going a lot and without much explanation why, and always at weird times. you come back sweaty and in different clothes, and i know ella see's joe on a wednesday so all those times you used her as a scapegoat when it was that day, were obviously more lies." you explained quietly, looking out the window instead of at her, unable to stand the look of hurt visibly evident on the taller girls face.

"i can explain all of that, but i promise on everything i am not cheating on you. i love you so much that it hurts and i would never ever take that for granted, you're the best thing in my life." alessia rambled, reaching out again for your hand as you only shrunk away from her and the blonde deflated.

"well go on then." "what?" "you said you can explain all of that, explain then." "can we just drop it? but i promise its not cheating."

"just drop it?" your head snapped toward your girlfriend who paled at her poor choice of words which had clearly upset you further. "you don't get to lie and make me empty promises and then not explain yourself alessia." you warned, trying to open her door as the girl quickly locked them.

"let me out." "no." "explain then!" "no." "alessia you better let me out of this car or i swear to god-" "okay fine! just stop calling me alessia." "explain then...alessia."

"you have to promise you won't laugh." your girlfriend warned seriously and the anger present in your features melted at her choice of words, replaced instead with confusion.

"promise!" alessia stated firmly again, holding up her pinky as you gave her a look of disbelief. "baby! promise me." alessia warned and you rolled your eyes but linked your pinkies none the less and mumbled you promised.

"oh god." alessia sunk down into her seat, dragging her hands down her face with a troubled sigh. "i've been taking dance classes." she mumbled into her hands as she buried her face in them and you frowned, assuming you'd heard her incorrectly.

"pardon?" "i've been taking dance classes." "dance classes?"

"yes! in secret, every wednesday at five thirty. but i'm so bad at it that i've been getting some extra help from the teacher when he's free. who is a flamboyantly gay man by the way!" she was quick to add in, aware of how this could come across.

"you've been taking....dance classes." "yes." "why?" "well i read an article that said it helps athletes with their performance, helps them loosen up their bodies as well as shape and tone, and with the world cup incoming i have to be at my best." "what sort of dance helps with football?" "...street dance."

"like...hip hop? popping and locking and all that?" you bit down on your bottom lip to stop the grin which so badly wanted to take over your face as the blonde nodded.

"yeah. but don't laugh! you promised." alessia warned seriously, though biting the inside of her cheek to stop her own smile from spreading.

"so instead of just telling me about this, you kept it hidden and we had to have our first proper row and i had to think you were cheating on me to finally find out." you sighed as alessias face turned guilty once again and she slowly nodded.

"oh less." you shook your head in slight amusement, the blonde apologizing over and over as she grabbed your hands, sighing in relief when you finally let her take them.

"i guess taking street dance classes is probably more embarrassing than cheating anyway." you commented casually, shock and offence flashing across the older girls face as you eventually gave in, letting laughter wrack at your body.

"you promised you wouldn't laugh!" alessia whined with a pout, though seeing the clear humor in the situation she eventually joined in, the car filled with the symphony of your laughter, both of you clutching at your stomachs and wiping tears from your eyes.

"lessi baby you are such a dope."

you eventually filled ella in on what happened, the brunette insisting that you come clean about what happened with the coffee shop lie, alessia was unimpressed but understood she was in the wrong.

though that didn't stop her from refusing to let either one of you go to class with her, or reveal anything else about them, changing the subject anytime it came up or distracting you with a cheeky hickey or her tongue down your throat anytime you pressed the issue.

which is how you'd ended up here, it was a chilly wednesday afternoon and you were crammed into ellas car with the seats leant all the way back, the two of you peering at your girlfriend as she parked, locking her car and heading into the dance studio.

"tooney i don't know about this! it feels wrong." you stressed, fiddling with the strings of your hoodie as the head of blonde hair disapeared inside and ella commanded you both sit up and get out of the car.

"oh don't go mushy and moral on me now man, come on!" ella shot out of the car and you groaned quietly but followed none the less, the two of you hurrying across the car park toward the studio, crouching down by the window as the room inside pulsed from the bass of the music blasting out of it.

"okay on three we look, but we have to be subtle. she can't know we were here!" ella commanded and you nodded firmly, the girl counting down on her fingers before the two of you popped your heads up, peering over the edge of the window.

you both exchanged a look of shock watching alessia dance along to the beat with the class.

well...try to dance.

the poor girl flung her long limbs around and did her best not to fall at the eratic movement, rolling her body and popping her hips terribly out of beat as she tried to keep up with the rest of the class.

as the blonde tripped over herself and went tumbling to the floor tooney let out a sudden loud boom of laughter, your face paling as she smacked her hand over her mouth and the two of you ducked down.

though not before the older blonde had spotted the two of you, hurrying to her feet and mumbling an apology as the class resumed and she burst out of the studio doors, looking around before her eyes locked in on the two of you and narrowed.

"shit we made it angry. go!" ella grabbed you as the two of you jumped to your feet and sprinted away, alessia charging after you with a yell, her long legs meaning she came closer and closer as you and ella neared her car at the other end of the lot.

"tooney save yourself man!" you yelled out dramatically as your girlfriend caught you, tanned arms wrapping you around you and trapping you in their strong hold.

"i'll never forget your sacrifice!" the brunette saluted and wiped away fake tears, diving into her car and peeling out of the lot, yelling out she'd see alessia at training tomorrow before she zoomed away.

"hello footloose." you teased, tilting your head back to look up at your girlfriend who glowered down at you with a glare. "i hope that was worth it, because now i am going to kill you." you laughed as the taller girl dragged you with her toward her car, already deciding she wasn't going back to class today.

"tooney will make sure the police find out who did it." "my best friend? i'm sure i can sway her to take my side as an alibi." "okay ouch." "plus, no body no crime. i'm gonna drown you in the river babygirl."

"okay my love lets just start off slow. finding the beat and following the rhythm." you instructed softly, you and alessia stood facing one another in the living room, having moved some furniture around so the space was more clear.

with much persistence you'd managed to convince her to let you help her with her dancing, the poor girls private lessons only furthering her embarrassment as they did very little to help her keep up in class.

so once she'd told you she was going to quit you took matters into your own hands to stop that happening, and here you were.

clicking play on the music you started to move your body from side to side with the beat, clicking along as you did so, alessia watching you intently before you encouraged her to join in.

"see? just relax baby, stop thinking about it so hard and just....move."

it was around two hours later but you'd already made progress, you stood up on the lounge clapping along to the beat as your girlfriend rolled her body along and started to finally get a hold over the routine.

"yes! see you're doing it!" you cheered her on excitedly as she finally made it all the way through without tripping over. "okay now freestyle, remember what i said no thinking, just move." you ordered as the song changed and you continued to clap along to the beat.

"go lessi, go lessi, go lessi, go lessi." you chanted over and over as your girlfriend danced around the room, spurred on by your encouragement.

"baby you did it!" you yelled happily as the song ended and you launched yourself at her from the lounge, the taller girl catching you in her arms as you pressed your lips to hers, her hands squeezing your thighs as your legs wrapped around her.

"hey where are you going? we're not done yet you only did the routine all the way through once!" you laughed and pulled away as she began to walk the two of you towards the stairs.

"well tesoro i think this has been so successful that we need to continue this little private lesson in the bedroom."

#woso x reader #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #engwnt #woso blurbs

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chiscribbs · 1 year

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This is something I'm calling the Disconnected AU.

It's an alt-movie-ending AU which focuses on the bonds of the four brothers (primarily: Leo and Mikey, Raph and Donnie) and how each of them fights to keep their family together when circumstances threaten to tear them apart possibly for good.

I originally wanted to fit all four of the brothers' perspectives onto one page, buuut it ended up being too massive that way, so I decided to just divide it into two separate posts instead, lol.

RAPH & DONNIE

MIKEY & LEO (coming soon...)

Summary below the cut (TW: loss of limbs, implied death, mind-control):

In an alternate version of the movie's finale, Donnie is not conscious to help Mikey open the portal; Mikey and Raph don't have enough power between the two of them to keep it open, so the portal ends up collapsing, taking Mikey - and one of Raph's arms - with it. Donnie awakes just in time to see two of his brothers vanish into nothingness...but before that, he sees something strange as the portal is collapsing, something that gives him reason to believe they could still be alive...

In the weeks following the invasion, the remaining members of the Hamato Clan each deal with the loss in various ways - some grieving, others not yet willing to give up hope. Donnie - certain that his brothers are not dead, just lost, and determined to get them back - spends every waking moment in his lab, pouring over any scrap of footage or evidence of the event that he can get his hands on. Meanwhile, Raph - eaten with guilt for failing to protect his brothers and constantly reminded of it due to his new arm - becomes closed-off. This worsens when Donnie starts spending more and more of his time in isolation; Raph believing/fearing that it's because he blames him, too. He copes by trying to be there for the rest of his family - the ones that will let him in.

As time passes, the others gradually start to move on, accepting that Leo and Mikey are gone for good. Donnie becomes increasingly frustrated with them (namely Raph, who he thinks must have seen what he saw, since he was also there) and desperate to prove that his brothers aren't dead. Tensions between the two finally hit a boiling point when a shrine is dedicated in Leo and Mikey's memory, resulting in a heated argument that ends with Donnie retreating back to his lab. Unable to find the clear evidence that he needs (and having no luck with contacting Draxum), Donnie decides to take matters into his own hands - he builds a device that can tap into his mind and recover the memory of what he saw the moment the portal collapsed. Unbeknownst to him, however...

When the portal collapsed, it left a fissure between the dimensions - one that made it possible for the Krang to connect with, and take control of, the mind-altering tech Donnie built to save his brothers.

Things quickly go from bad to worse when the Krang-possessed device causes Donnie to become less and less like himself and more like a cold, emotionless machine with only one objective: find the key and free the Krang. In a moment of clarity, Donnie flees the lair to put some distance between himself and the others until he can fix the problem. Unaware of what's causing the sudden change but nonetheless bound and determined not to lose another piece of his family; Raph puts together a team to find and bring his brother home before he, too, is forever lost.

Meanwhile, in a distant dimension: Mikey is also on a quest to find & save his lost brother...before it's too late...

(To be continued...)

#Every AU I make is just an excuse to give Donnie cool new design concepts LOL.#rottmnt #rottmnt au #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello hamato #rottmnt donnie #rise donnie #raphael hamato #rottmnt raph #rise raph #disconnected au (rottmnt)

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alphabetboyluvr · 11 months

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throttle | jjk - three

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven

warnings - car sex (yay), talk of wet dreams, jaykay is down so incredibly bad, talk of buying a fuck toy just to cope with how much he wants YOU, reader on top, unprotected sex, huge cawk jk, missionary (in a car! very cramped!! but he does it for YOU <3), jk is chatty during sex (like, actually chatty), mentions of politics, mentions of drugs, the plot is plotting, jin is sexy, namjoon is a prick, jungkook is losing his god damn mind, OH and! the oc is given a nickname - she's CC (ceecee) he he he

word count - 7.5k

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

There's a symbiotic nature to the way in which your bodies move together.

You're the moon, Jungkook your tides.

You work in tandem to turn the earth, finding peace in the rhythm that you provide one another. He'll reflect your beauty back at you, and you'll drag him to the shores; offer him respite that he didn't realise he needed until you came around.

It's a fantastical way to think about it, whimsical and ridiculous, but it's the only way that any justice is given to it.

Foolish, some may say, to compare a man to such a vast and complex ecosystem, but you think that maybe there are worlds inside of Jungkook that nobody will ever get to know. Some that maybe he isn't even aware of - but you want to be. You want to learn him. What makes him tick, what gets those dimples of his showing.

It's a fantasy. A what-if. A world of possibilities in the vessel of an impossibly handsome man, carved of stone, filled with feathers. Gentle to the touch, hard on your heart.

Funny thing is, Jungkook kind of regards you to be a fantasy, too. Make-believe. A story told to kids about princesses so pretty they're put to sleep at the tops of towers. The unattainable elite, who are somehow a friend to all, and an enemy to just one.

Jungkook knows better than to let himself indulge in the fallacy of you. It's a misconception he's dreamt up; a romanticisation of the reality that he loathes so much.

He isn't really sure why he's letting himself get so caught up with you. Maybe he just thinks he can keep you at arm's length if he keeps you as part of his imagination.

Which is ironic, given the way his arm is tight behind your back as your hips roll on top of his lap. Can't really get much closer than his cock being inside of you.

There's just something about the way you look at him - the little glances beneath your long lashes and the roll of your eyes - that makes him unable to stay away from you. He keeps coming back for more. Again and again.

You're like crack, he thinks. He's never done it, but he's seen enough poor sods trying to ween themselves of it. The withdrawals are akin to the way he feels when you're not around.

He's always been this way; attracted to the things he knows he shouldn't be. You're not the first forbidden fruit he's ever tried, but he's got a taste for them now. He doubts you'll be the last - unless you're the one that finally poisons him.

As he breathes you in, lips on yours, a hand in your hair, the other on your hip, Jungkook knows that you could, in fact, very well be his last - but he doesn't care.

You're still dressed, missing the intimacy of his skin sticking to yours, but neither of you could wait.

The backseats are icy cold, so your tights have just been pulled off, soaked underwear pushed to the side so that his cock - which has barely been set free from the confines of his trousers, still at the top of his thighs - can push up into you as quickly as possible.

The way his hands grip onto your ass makes up for the lack of skin on skin. He's in control, pulling you up and down his shaft like his own personal sex toy.

Maybe that's what he should do, instead - get himself a toy. A fleshlight. Or maybe even one of those fake torsos, the ones with a perfectly hairless cunt and a bolted-on pair of tits, so that he can mimic the way he grips onto your waist as he does it. That'd solve his problems. Stop him from screwing you. Maybe.

He could fuck himself into it; the silicone a pathetic replica of the silky feeling your walls provide him with, and spill his seed into it while he thinks about you. He could even circle his lips around the plump pussy, have his tongue toy with the labia, dipping down into the leaky hole he'd have stretched out with his thick cock. Lick it all up like a good boy, like he did the last time - but you wouldn't be there to swallow it. He'd have to eat his own cum, and that's just never as much fun.

Plus he remembers the ways your legs clamped around his head as you came, so tight he swore his skull could have cracked.

A sex toy would never have him fearing for his life (although he would die from embarrassment if Jimin ever found it), not the way that you do.

In his sheets, in his car, in his life in general; you're a threat to it. To him. And the acknowledgement of this gets his cock all hard and angry - engorged, flushed red at the tip, leaky - when he's alone and thinking about you at night.

Wet dreams had been reserved for his teenage years, but he'd woken up to damp sheets twice since he'd met you.

The first time, about three weeks ago, he was confused; the head of his cock, still a little firm, peeking out the waistband of his Calvin Kleins, a puddle of his semen gathering in his belly button. He'd poked at it a little, his sleepy yet deliriously horny brain not quite awake yet. Tracing his toned chest with his fingers tips, he ghosted his abs as delicately as he wanted to touch your body - and then he realised.

Or should that be remembered.

Remembered the pair of eyes he'd seen as he checked the rearview mirror in his dream. Didn't matter that the car was somehow driving along that little damp area where the sand meets the sea, or that he also seemed to have been wearing inflatable shoes. It was the eyes - sultry and subdued, sunset catching in your irises - that had his cock getting plump in his sleep.

'Show me all of you,' whispered in a hushed tone, and followed with 'I'll show you all of me, too,' was the thing that had his stiff cock oozing onto his abdomen at four in the fucking morning.

The next time, last week, was a little less dignified. He woke up to himself rutting against his mattress, laboured grunts muffled info his pillows, a wet patch growing midway down the bed. There had been a rag left too close to his bed, the smell of gasoline filling his senses, reminding him of you. Hardly his fault. Did also concern him that he was beginning to get conditioned to developing a semi at the mere scent of gasoline.

It was pretty clear to Jungkook by that point, that if he couldn't fuck you, he'd simply die.

Admittedly, he hadn't expected it to happen so soon.

He also, thankfully, hadn't placed bets with Jimin on it, cause he'd have been out of fifty-thousand won if he had. Little fucker never gives Jungkook any benefit of the doubt. Always bets on him caving as quickly as he can. 'No willpower. All cock and balls, no brain.'

You're both Jungkook's proudest conquest and deepest darkest secret.

Can't be letting the boys know about you. Can't be sharing you with them. Can't so much as admit the fact he's been getting laid whenever they rib him for being celibate (which is a reach - he's only been out of action for, like, a month. Two, tops.).

If they could see the grip he had on your hips and the way your hand were locked behind his head, hair draping over his face, lips lost in his, they'd be asking for tips. Probably be wishing they had x-ray vision so they could see beneath the pooled clothes that protected both of your modesties.

But the windows of his car are clouded, the heat of the exchange between the pair of you preventing anyone from intruding. This is your safe place; with him.

He tightens his grip, but pulls away from your lips. You mirror his actions, curious to see why he'd be willing to leave such a warm embrace, your hips stalled by his hands. He's looking at you, blonde hair tangled over his eyes, the metal of his piercing reflecting tiny fragments of light that sneak into his windows. There's a silhouette to his face, beautiful and bold; the kind of art you'd find in the museum on the outskirts of town.

Maybe you'd go there together one day. Laugh at the pompous nature of it all, revel in the fact that you're both too churlish for all that shit. He'll make up stories for the people in the pictures, and you'll play along, narrating the lives of fictional people for funsies.

When you aren't looking, he'll take a picture of you in front of some drab minimalist piece. He won't show you it. Keep it to himself. A reminder of what once was; the beauty of a girl who could capture every ounce of his attention in a room of priceless masterpieces.

That was the thing that always puzzled Jungkook about artists; how did they know when to stop?

If the artist kept trying to blend out their muses' almond eyes, would they surely not become at one with their skin?

How much paint would saturate the canvas?

At which point would the brush stroke turn into nothingness?

He supposed the same could be said for the illicit embrace he was entangled in; how many kisses would it take for a casual fuck to turn into something a little more consequential?

If eyes are windows to the soul, would he be giving his up if he looked at you as he came?

At which point does a thumb in your mouth become a thumb stroking your blushed cheek, and does it really make as much of a difference as it feels like it should?

When you whine into his mouth, displeased at the way he isn't letting you bounce on his cock, he smiles, and knows that it's already crossed that line.

In fact, the lines are so blurred that 'indistinguishable' is the only appropriate way to describe them.

"I really did want to talk tonight," he hums quietly, pushing your hair back. It had been hot when he was covered in it, the scent of gasoline suffocating him, but he wants to look at you now. You hold up your wrist as he piles it all to the back of your head, his hips moving gently as he pulls the tie from your wrist and secures your hair in place.

"We still can," you say a little breathlessly. You're not exhausted, barely used any of your energy on the languid nature of the fuck you're indulging in, but the way he stretches you, cock thick and plump between your tight walls keeps you slightly out of breath.

"Now?"

"As good a time as any."

He smiles, pretty teeth resting on his bottom lip. Head shaking, a little bashful beneath the lunar light that peeks out from beyond the clouds, he lets his eyes rest on yours. They're inky, full of unspoken words, and you want to spend days studying them, just to decipher even a handful of words that make up who Jungkook is.

"Tell me about your life," he hums, head resting back against the headrest. There's an intimacy to this position. The way you're keeping his cock warm is something that's reserved for, well, no one. You've never done this before. Never shared anything other than your body during sex. It all feels foreign - but surprisingly, his stiff cock inside of you doesn't. "Your dream job as a kid. Your nicknames."

You smile, now, and the way your diaphragm tenses has his cock throbbing. "Vet. Popstar. The usual. One that stuck? Lawyer. And I never had a nickname. My family weren't really like that," you say, before rolling your hips, scared that the mundane talk would make him soft again.

Jungkook stills you. Looks at you with an expression you don't really recognise. His eyes are all hard, the dimple above his lips present as if he's thinking. A miracle, really, given most men's inability to produce a single thought during sex.

"You're smart," he assesses. Thinks that girls who dream of becoming lawyers always are.

"Was an overworked teenager. Burnt out. Flunked," you shrug, failing to disclose exactly why you flunked.

He nods, that fierce contemplative gaze still lacing his features. The pads of his fingers are delicate as he pushes your skirt a little further up your waist. His eyes are still on yours as his thumb hooks beneath the lace of the panties you're still wearing. He presses against your clit. It's only a little pressure. Just enough to have you gasping.

"Could always retake your exams now," he says, as if he isn't toying with your pussy like it's his favourite arcade game. Slow and steady. Easy does it. His eyes are wide. Doe-like. Incapable of committing any crimes, it seems. Innocent. "You're smart enough to do it, CC."

Your lips curl to the side slightly, head tilting, ignoring all of what he said except for those two little syllables at the end. "CC?"

"Everyone deserves a nickname."

"And CC?" You laugh, strands of hair falling loose, framing your face. Jungkook was right. You are a work of art.

"CC," he smiles, leaning a little closer to steal a tiny kiss from your lips. "As in, LMCC."

Brows raised, he's got you curious. "LMCC?"

"Little Miss Clutch Control," he grins, so proud of himself that you can't help but smile, too.

The pressure of his thumb on your clit gets firmer, and Jungkook lets his smile drop as your pout rests ajar, a small moan shaking from your very core. There's an intimacy to be found in the way Jungkook can procure such radiant happiness and sinful lust from you within seconds of one another.

He's harvesting for diamonds again. They're not in your eyes tonight. It's too dark for that. But they are in the hushed moans that let him know he's got a hold on you that no one else has. You could talk all the shit you liked about his clutch control, but if you even attempted to argue with him about his clit control, he'd just laugh.

"Thought you wanted to talk?" You say, though it comes out as a gasp. He's got a rhythm, but he isn't moving his hips. He's just feeling your walls tense around him.

"I do," he says with a shit-eating grin. He's too hot, you decide. So hot that you could never be with him, not properly. You'd probably lose your mind fearing he'd cheat. Boys that look like him always do. "Favourite food?"

The casual nature of his tone is a challenge. One that you accept. Even if your thighs are shaking.

"Don't have one."

"Any pets?"

"Family had a dog."

"Name?"

"Bingsu."

Jungkook is so pretty when he laughs. Cheeks all plump, the tip of his nose shiny from the moonlight his car is being bathed in. It's in his eyes, too, twinkling as if it's joining in on the joke - but of course, it is. You are the moon to his tides. Your happiness, for the moments of which you spend entangled in one another, is intertwined.

"Very original," he teases. He knew at least three girls who had called their pet rabbits Bingsu. Some cats, too.

"I was like 10," you defend. "Fuck off."

You say, as if you arent mounted on top of him.

"Favourite position in bed?" He questions, lifting your skirt so that he can see where your pussy meets his cock. He lets a small pool of spit gather in his mouth, before slowly releasing it, aiming for your clit. He spreads it around with his thumb, getting your pussy all nice and wet as he feigns indifference to the way your moans increase.

"How do you go from pets to sex?" You question, finding his method of enquiry maddening.

"Dog," he tilts his head from side to side. "Doggy. Very easily. Answer it."

"Missionary."

It's a lie. You just want to see how he'll react.

"Boring."

"Intimate."

"Old people position."

"Didn't we say we're already married? Perfect for us."

"We're still in the honeymoon period - and don't give me that bollocks about intimacy. I'd say that this is pretty fucking intimate," he protests, thinking that having you on his lap, warming his fat, leaky cock is far more intimate than any rendition of missionary he's ever had.

"And I'd say missionary is only boring if you don't like the person you're fucking," you bite back, just to be difficult. "I could force you to give up all other positions for lent, and I bet you'd still be dying to fuck me every single night, regardless of whether or not it was missionary."

"Yeah, you're right," he admits. Doesn't even find missionary that boring. Quite likes it actually. and he'd happily fuck you for forty days and forty nights. "I prefer morning sex, though."

"Fine," you shrug. "Missionary morning, noon and night."

"Three times a day?"

"Can you handle it?"

"Can you?"

"Only one way to find out."

"You're on," he grins. What he wouldn't give to be buried in your pussy three times a day. "Next question. Political stance?"

"Liberal," you respond instantly. "Left. Whatever you wanna call it. Also, this is terrible dirty talk."

"Good," he nods, as his thumb begins to brush at the hood that protects your sensitive nub, pushing it from side to side. Your toes fucking curl. "I don't fuck conservatives. And also? I can feel you leaking around the base of my shaft. You're still turned on, dirty talk or not."

You ignore his winning remark.

"What if I'd have said I was conservative?"

"You're on my dick in a car down a back alley of Daegu. You're not conservative in any sense of the word."

"But if I had?"

"I'd have probably carried on," he concedes. "Hate fuck."

"You're into that?"

"Not really."

"No?"

"I fuck girls 'cause I like them, CC. I don't really get those straight dudes who always go on about how much they hate women. Surely just fuck dudes instead? Regardless, if I'm fucking someone, it's cause I like 'em."

He says it without a single care in the world. Yet you feel like your whole entire world is imploding, in the best possible way.

"So you like me?" You question, all coy and a little shy. The tip of his cock leaks a little precum into you.

"My dick is in you, no?"

Touché.

And then your morbid curiosity makes an unwelcome appearance.

"When did you last like a girl enough to stick your dick in her?"

Jungkook laughs.

"Last night."

You're about to be offended. He can see it, the way your brows contort, a scowl forming - and then you realise. The smile you give him is sweet, but doesn't last for that long. He'd avoided the question, and you still want the answer. "Before that."

"About two months ago."

"She better than me?"

"I've only fucked you once. Not really a fair comparison."

Disappointing response.

"I'm fucking you right now," you remind him. "The correct answer was to say no."

"Actually," he argues, because of course he does. It's what the pair of you were born to do. "The correct answer is that you're incomparable - but the answer that you want? The one that means anything?" He pauses. Stops toying with your pussy, and pulls you in for a shallow kiss. It's fleeting, but enough. "The way I've been thinking about you doesn't compare. Been going insane thinkin' 'bout you, CC. Wrapped those pretty little legs of yours around my head and have been embedded in my brain ever since. Making me in-fucking-sane."

He's right. It is the answer you wanted.

"So stop asking me questions and fuck me," you laugh. "I've never met a more confusing yet straightforward man."

He ignores your statement, though he doesn't disagree with the sentiment.

"Am I comparable to your last fuck?" He asks, taunting you. He doesn't want to know, not really. But you asked first. He wants to see if there's a reason why; if maybe you're still harbouring some sort of attachment just like you're accusing him of having.

The way your body gets a little tense in his grasp confirms this. He notices. Hard not to when he's trapped inside of you. Thinks it's rich of you to grill him in the way you did, only to clearly be projecting your own feelings onto him.

But there's a look in your eyes that he doesn't like, now. The moon is hiding behind a cloud again, stealing the diamonds from his line of sight.

"I'm sorry," he says. The smile that had been on his face when he'd asked the question is gone, and he's looking at you like he's truly seeing you; the eyebrow hairs that need shaping, the pores that need cleansing and the flyaway hairs that land on the wrong side of your parting.

"It's okay," you say, because you should have expected it. The question was fair game.

Jungkook knocks his head to the side briefly as if to say 'no', but chooses against it. Instead, he pulls you in closer to him and kisses you tenderly, his hips pulsing upwards beneath your weight. His hands are in your hair, tongue in your mouth, and he's reminded again why the answer to his question doesn't matter.

"Let me fuck you how you like it, baby," he mumbles into your plump lips, his tongue flicking against the tip of yours as he speaks.

You question what he means as he grips onto your waist, elevating himself a little but keeping himself snug inside of you. He turns, restricted by the tight space in the back of his car. The movements are a little awkward, but it's endearing how he gets you on your back, sprawled lengthways across the back seat.

Your legs are bent at the knees, a foot resting on the ledge of the window while the other perches on the centre console. You're spread for him, but he can't devour the beauty of you blooming in such a way, thanks to the cramped room. He shuffles his jeans down a little, just beneath his ass, and strokes his cock; pumps it once, twice, as he lines himself up with your entrance.

The position is gonna be hellish for him, his backseat too narrow to really fit the both of you, but he figures if he hooks your foot resting on the window ledge over his shoulder instead, then it should be okay.

And so he does just that. You're surprised you can still bend like that, but you're also pretty sure your bones would turn to jelly if Jungkook asked them to. There's nothing that you wouldn't do to keep him close like this.

"Thought this was boring?" You hum, knowing that it doesn't really compare to standard missionary.

He's stroking the tip of his cock against your folds - and then he sinks back into you, a laboured moan hanging off the cushion of his bottom lip before he presses it into yours. His hips don't really waste much time, fucking into you slow and deep.

"It is," he groans, before hooking your other leg over his shoulder, too. You're a little tighter like this, the grip your pussy has on his cock akin to heaven on earth. "But you're not."

You go to say something, but he can feel you smiling against his lips so he tells you just to kiss him, instead. He rolls his hips into yours, resting himself a little deeper every single time. The tepid air in his car wraps around the pair of you like satin ribbon, tied in a pretty little bow where your bodies meet.

It's a gift, how well you work together. A blessing. A curse, too, but that only concerns Jungkook for now, and honestly, he isn't thinking about it. He's just thinking about the way your hair smells, and how much he wants to suffocate in your scent.

When Jungkook cums, the weight that eases off his shoulders settles in your stomach instead. It traps the movement of the chime that hasn't stopped ringing since he first stepped foot into the gas station that evening. He moans into your lips, tells you how well you take him, how much he likes it, likes you. "Think I'll die if we ever stop hooking up."

He asks if you came, but knows that you didn't. He remembers the way you felt the last time it happened - and as incredible as it had been to have your pussy wrapped around his cock, he knew that it hadn't throbbed in the same way that it had last time.

You shake your head, but you're already moving to sit up. There's something refreshing about your honesty. It's not that he doesn't want to make you cum, it's just that he's getting a bit of post-nut clarity and is highly aware that Namjoon could be around the corner. City isn't that big. Especially not this side of the river.

"Too cold," you smile, to which Jungkook responds with a small, confused hum. "Can't cum when I'm cold. Your car is fucking freezing, Kook."

The way you say his name has him wanting to blast the aircon just so he can get you warm enough to finish all over his tongue - but then you yawn, and he feels bad for keeping you out late after your shift. You're cute when you yawn.

Cute how your hand curls, eyes scrunching up tightly, shoulders hunching and then lowering back down again. He likes your shoulders. They're sloped, and petite, and a far cry from his. So dainty. Everything about you is. The way you look, your pretty lips, the earrings you wear. So pretty, and perfect, and in this moment, his.

Doesn't want the moment to end.

"Come back to mine," he offers, in a bid to elongate that feeling. "Stay the night."

"Again?" You ask, and your tone of surprise has him laughing.

"What? It's not like I'm asking you to marry me, C."

"I'd say no, anyways," you bicker back without even thinking about it.

"Thank God," Jungkook grins, rummaging about to find a packet of tissues he's sure he put in his car at some point.

He'd hidden them up after Jimin had teased him about having car sex like a fucking teenager, but Jungkook had waaaay too much pride in his car to do that.

The tissues are for when he gets greasy food from gas stations. Can't be getting the leather all fucked up, not after he spent so much getting it reupholstered.

"Ah, here," he pulls them from the back of the passenger seat and passes them over to you. Apparently, his mind has changed on the whole 'having too much pride to fuck in his car' thing. "Nah, I just-"

He pauses. Shrugs. Does his trousers back up, and doesn't look at you as you sort out the mess between your legs.

"I liked having you there last night. I'd like to have it again."

He glances over his shoulder, to find you looking at him in the very way he was afraid of. You look fond.

But so does he as he smiles at you.

"Plus, I kinda owe you an orgasm now, and my apartment is way warmer than this tin can."

You tuck the tissues back into the now-empty packet and scrunch your nose up, trying to fight a smile. He doesn't realise, but Jungkook does the same thing back.

Your legs hook over the centre console, and you plonk yourself back down in the passenger seat.

"I do actually wanna sleep tonight," you tell him.

Jungkook smiles, popping open the rear door, making his way back around to the driver's seat. The leather is freezing when his body falls into it, and he starts to realise just how cold you must have been all exposed like that.

He wants to get you home quicker than ever. Shower you in the warmth of his kisses, use his fingers like strike anywhere matches along your skin, igniting fires from the tips of your toes to the very centre of your core.

He'll get you warm.

Get you coming undone. Get you all sleepy and cute. Get you dreaming the sweetest dreams as he holds you close through the night.

"Me too," he says as the engine starts up, his motor purring almost as pleasantly as you do. And perhaps he's just a little cum-drunk, and doesn't realise the weight of his words as he knocks the car into first and heads in the direction of his apartment, humming softly: "Let's get you home."

────────────

When Jungkook wakes up at four in the morning, he's hot. Cheeks a little puffy, hands clammy, tongue dry. Hot.

Your lips are pursed and pouted, firmly shut, body curled up next to his. He wouldn't normally complain, but his arm is trapped beneath your body, and so he's fixed in position next to a girl who burns like the heat of a thousand matches. He'll get scalded, skin tarnished, branded by you, and yet he can't bring himself to disturb you.

He reaches for his phone to check the time, and you hum softly in your sleep. Wonders if you're dreaming; if it's about him. Hopes you are; hopes it is.

His voice is low as he berates himself, whispering to 'get a grip', rubbing his free hand over his face and pushing it back into his hair. It's a little brittle, in need of a deep condition, the bleach damage a small price to pay for the anonymity his hair gave him - until, of course, it became his trademark.

He thinks about cutting it all off sometimes, but he's got a Samson complex. Fears he'll lose his strength without it. Wonders if one day you'll be his Delilah. Kind of already feels like you are.

You would never cut his hair off, though, purely for selfish reasons. Mainly 'cause the way it frames his face makes him look like art; but also cause you like having something to hold onto when things get a little rough (though his ass is also ideal for that).

He likes the way you always play with it. Knows you think it's a little sexy, all wavy (unintentional, just fried) and long. The roots are as dark as his eyes, though.

You romanticise it, in a way. It's like his true self is peeking through, and it makes you think that maybe one day you'll get to know who that is.

Jungkook isn't so sure.

In fact, he knows you won't. Sucks, but such is life.

It's not that he doesn't want you to know when his birthday is, or his favourite spot along the river to watch the world go by, it's just that it's asking for trouble. He gets into enough of that alone.

Still, he likes it when he's not alone. Likes it when you're with him - and so he falls back asleep, the beating of your heart soothing him into his REM cycle like the white noise he normally listens to instead.

It's gone seven by the time he wakes up again.

He reaches out, strokes the mattress where you'd once been and sighs. It's empty, though a little warm. There's silence in his apartment, and your bra isn't hooked over the end of his bed anymore, so he knows you're gone. Probably just didn't want to wake him.

He's cold, now. Hates the fuckin' cold. Isn't made for the winters. His lack of body fat does a terrible job at keeping him insulated through the cold nights, and heating is a luxury that he can't really afford these days, not with the sheer amount of gas he funnels into that goddamn car of his.

You had been a welcome, warm addition.

He'd teased you about it, told you it was the only reason he'd invited you over when you cursed about how bloody cold it was - but then you reminded him that you couldn't cum cold, and it had him flicking on the electric fan heater quicker than you could click your fingers.

Bleary-eyed from the morning sun, his hair a haphazard mess falling over them, Jungkook makes his way to his bathroom. He trips on his jeans in the process, forgetting the way you'd practically stripped him of his clothes the night before. Insatiable, that's what you are - and he loves it.

There's no coordination in his body as he walks, and he imagines a shower is the only thing that will really wake his body up - but there's no point. He needs to be out of his apartment within the next ten minutes. He's already running late.

His tardiness is noticed by everyone by the time he gets to the boxing club that morning.

"Here he is," Jimin grins as Jungkook avoids eye contact with every single fucker in the room. He slings his bag down and chucks his jacket on top, mask following. The room is cold, Old Man Kang not one for wasting precious profits on heaters.

Cold? He'd say. Train harder.

"Sorry I'm late," Jungkook mumbles, head hung a little low, throwing his body down next to Jimin, into the empty seat of a tatty sofa that sits in the corner of the rest area.

Jungkook can feel Namjoon's eyes on him. They're as cold as the ice that's melting on the roads outside, a little bit of spring sunshine thawing what once was frozen. He twists his neck, bones cracking at the top of his spine. Rolls his shoulders back. Postures himself correctly - and only then does Jungkook look at Namjoon.

"Where'd you disappear to last night?" Jungkook taunts him. "One minute you were tailing me, the next?" He clicks his fingers and sticks his bottom lip out, eyes all wide and faux-friendly.

They're the kind of eyes that remind you of the summer before you started secondary school; warm custard on a sponge cake, served up in a yellow cafeteria. A little bit of colour, hundreds and thousands sprinkled on top, but overwhelmingly yellow.

All yellow.

The school regulation sundress, the frills around the top of your socks. The highlighter stains on your fingers, and the rubber band charity bracelet worn around the wrists of every single boy in your class because it was 'trendy', not because any of them actually understood the concept of charity yet.

Yellow; canary, butter, midsummer Daegu sun. Lemon kombucha, mustard, and honey, too. In some lights, maybe even gold.

It curious how eyes so new, so foreign to you, seem to harbour memories of childhood that you thought had been lost. If not the memories, at least, the feelings; the notion that after the sunshine fades, nothing will ever be the same. Jungkook is the summer before secondary school, the final song of your favourite bands' encore, the subway doors closing at 11:57 pm. He's the end of something good, familiar, safe - but nothing great ever came from safe, now, did it?

His eyes are nostalgic, served up with a side of the unknown. Promises. That's what they're full of. Or is it potential? You're not sure, but you're actively choosing to be naive to the fact that it all seems too good to be true.

You don't know him like the boys in Old Man Kang's boxing club do.

Jungkook's void of colour in there. His eyes are black when they look at Namjoon. There's no honey in them.

They're bitter like black treacle, his disdain thick as it oozes over last nights competitor.

"Bastard lights," Namjoon shrugs, his indifference not convincing enough to come off as authentic. "Bad timing. Those cars were all coming from CGV. The last film of the night had just finished. Wasn't expecting the rush."

Jungkook holds back a snort. Typical of Namjoon to go and check the fucking cinema listings, just so that he had something else to blame his poor performance on.

"I mean, I made it through the lights on time," Jungkook smiles. It doesn't reach his eyes. Treacle drips from his whole entire being. It's sticky, and it coats every single surface in the room. The floor, the ring, the people. All covered in the heaviness. Everyone can feel it; how uncomfortable the empty silence is.

"Alright, ladies," Seokjin breaks the tension.

Shoulders broad, shirt discarded by the punching bag he's spent the morning working out his frustrations on, there's a sheen to his skin. It's damp. Salty, presumably, though no one in the room would dare lick his torso to check.

It's as if he's got sodium chloride crystals on his chest, glimmering when the light pours in through a tall window to the rear of the building.

His muscles are made from clay, carved out so intricately that Jungkook wonders why he bothers training himself so hard when he'll never look like his mentor. Impossible.

He's glad Seokjin has never stepped foot in the GS25 you earn your keep from. Thinks it will impact the way you look at him. Thinks maybe you'll start picturing Seokjin's face, instead of his own, whenever he takes you from behind in the future.

The thought unsettles him. Has him adjusting his legs, repositioning his cock so no one notices the fact it's a little plump now.

What? He was thinking about fucking you. Bound to happen. He's only human.

Male to be specific, with a libido to rival that of a bonobo.

Sometimes, Jimin likes to joke that Jungkook's genealogy must be closer to them than it is to his own grandfather. Even made him watch a documentary about it once. Only difference between Jungkook and his distant primate relatives is that Jungkook prefers to keep his sex monogamous.

He's made mistakes before; learnt the hard way that in order to keep things messy in bed, emotions have to run clean.

"Kook?" Seokjin interrupts his thoughts. He hadn't even realised he'd zoned out, but everyone's looking at him now, thankfully none of them noticing the semi in his pants. "You listening?"

"Huh?" He mumbles. "Sorry, was thinking. What were you saying?"

"We're swapping you out. You've been working well -" Namjoon scoffs in the corner, but Seokjin ignores him "- but I want to see if Park can get things done a little quicker."

Oh, fuck. Fuckity fuck fuck. This will not do.

"No!" Jungkook shouts, before realising how out of pocket his tone was. Cringe. "I mean, uh. I just. I've been making good progress. She's a tough cunt to crack."

"Charming."

"Fuck off, Jimin - see, that's what I mean," Jungkook begins to over-explain his outburst. "She'd call me a cunt right back. She likes my sense of humour. It just takes a while for her to open up. Sending Park in would just put us back at square one all over again."

"Yeah, but what's better?" Namjoon interjects. "Square one, going nought to sixty, or square two, still, only going five miles per hour."

"I'm on, like, square ten, asshole," Jungkook spits, incredibly childishly. If he wanted to, he could get specific. Talk about a different game that requires squares. Bases. Tell them all that he hits home runs, and that he's getting pretty consistent.

But if he tells them that, he'll be stopped from playing the game altogether.

"Sure," Namjoon just smirks.

Jungkook runs his tongue along his cheek, and looks at Seokjin, nostrils all flared, lips pouty.

"Calm down, Kookie," he says, and even though it's a little patronising, it has the desired effect. Jungkook respects him too much to fight against him. "I'll give you a week - and then you're swapping out with Park, alright? Get me something good. Something we can work with."

"I've got something," Jungkook shrugs. It isn't much but it at least confirms something they've theorised. "Asked her about politics last ni- last time I went in for gas."

"Casual kiosk discussion, seems legit."

"Do you ever shut the fuck up, Namjoon?" Jimin shoots him a glare.

"See, this is what I mean," Jungkook grumbles. "I can ask her shit like this 'cause I've built up a rapport with her. We talk." Fuck a little bit, too, but who's keeping tabs? "She won't be like that with Jimin."

She better not be.

Seokjin nods. He accepts what Jungkook is saying. Knows he's right - but knows that the lack of results is making his leadership look weak to Old Man Kang. "Carry on. What did she tell you?"

"She doesn't subscribe to her father's idea of politics. Didn't name drop him - never does - but she said she's left-wing."

"Performative," Namjoon scoffs, proving that no, he doesn't ever shut the fuck up.

"Or maybe she's the black sheep," Jimin counters. "The name change, the distancing herself from him-"

"Is all standard witness protection shit," Namjoon argues before Jimin can even finish making his point. "Her daddy is keeping her hidden so that he can keep her safe during the election campaign. Remember the amount of assassination threats he got during the last one? "

There's back and forth between them all, assessing how you ended up behind a gas station kiosk without a single link tying you back to your father. Most photographed man in the city, and yet you've been out of the pictures for a good three years, now.

The four of them never would have known who you are, or how expensive that pretty little head of yours is, had it not been for Old Man Kang and the job he'd given them all a couple months back.

Jungkook didn't exactly lie when he told you he was between jobs. He's just got a little something part time going on, too.

"Well, how about this?" Jungkook interrupts them, cutting their discussion about you short. It was annoying him. None of them know you. Not like he does. He's the only one qualified to have an opinion on the matter. "Keep me on the job. I'll be able to find out far quicker than any of you fuckers."

Seokjin concedes. Accepts that Jungkook is the best bet they've got. Dismisses them all, but keeps an eye on Jungkook as he pulls the neck of his shirt over his head and tosses it down onto his bag.

His composure is cool as he begins to wrap up his palms, but he's nibbling at his lips. Nose all twitchy like a bunny - and when he gets the bag he'll be working on, instead of testing the weight, he just hangs his head. Rests his forehead against it. Holds it. Taps it gently with his knuckles, before whispering a sharp 'fuck'.

But then he's bouncing on his feet, squaring up, getting ready, as if he hasn't just very visibly gone through an existential crisis, of sorts.

He would ask Jungkook what's going on, but there'd be no point. He's as good at lying as he is at throwing punches - and he's got the best left hook on the team. Doesn't use it much - but never misses when he does. Lies? Yeah, he uses them a lot more.

In fact, he's so good at fibbing, that Seokjin half thinks he doesn't even realise he's doing it a lot of the time. He cleans up the ink of his bad choices with white lies, and before he knows it, everything in Jungkook's life is grey.

"Posture straight," Seokjin calls over to him. "Don't lose your form."

Jungkook grunts a response. Does as he's told. Stays in the boxing club long enough to convince them all that it doesn't feel like he's having a heart attack. Chest all tight and shit. Lungs twisting beneath his ribs.

He grabs his stuff as quickly as he can without looking like a mad man on a dash, and locks himself in his car, staring into the oncoming traffic. Hands on the steering wheel, his chest heaves. Up and down, in and out. Contracting and expanding in all different directions.

The soiled packet of tissues is still on his backseat, your hairband looped around his gearstick. Your perfume spices the air, sweet vanilla and black cherry. He can only smell your hair when his nose is nestled in it.

Bizarrely, thinking about it doesn't make his heart race like it normally does. It calms it instead.

Jungkook whines. Stomps his feet a little in his footwell, then rests his forehead on the wheel.

"I'm so fuckin' screwed."

────────────

minors dni // posted to wp late 2021 // series masterlist

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dearshelby · 1 year

Text

Basis | T.S

Summary: "His day had been awful, the stock market crash gave him an awful headache, his family certainly would be against any solution he could possibly find and at last, her words made him stumble and crash"

A/N: This is far from my initial idea, this was meant to be a smut, but even if tommy uses sex as a coping mechanism I thought he deserved to be comforted in a healthier way

The house was uncharacteristically cold for an autumn night, the wind whistled through the windows crevices and that was the only sound to be heard, even the maids' heels were silenced by the fall of the night.

The crash of the stock market affected the Shelby company to levels no one could foresee, since everyone assumed their currency was safe in Michael's hands. They were far from bankruptcy, as a matter of fact they would never have to worry about going back to the Watery Lane again, but the concern was inevitable.

The big clock in the hallway announced midnight and Y/N jumped at the sound of the heavy pendulum, usually the maids kept the clock from making any noise so it wouldn't disturb Tommy's light sleep, it seemed that tonight they forgot to.

Before entering her shared bedroom, she waited to see if the bang had woken up her baby, no cry was heard, making it feel like she was alone in the house.

However, she wasn't, Tommy sat at her dressing table brooding with a glass of whiskey, his shoulders hung low and he barely noticed her presence. She knew that state of him very well, he was stuck into his own head, quick and concerning thoughts ran in his head in a down spiral.

She approached him slowly, as if he was a wounded war horse, a strong, powerful animal who mostly attacked out of fear of being hurt again. Her gentle hand squeezed his shoulder, the tense muscles fitted on her palm begging to be looked after.

All Tommy offered as an answer was a slow blink and another sip of his whiskey, the bottle was full earlier that evening and almost empty by then. Y/N didn't doubt he had a high resistance to alcohol and yet, she couldn't help but to worry.

"So what have you decided? I know Linda didn't let you speak," she referred to the family meeting they had.

"Nothing yet," Tommy mumbled, "fucking nothing,"

She took the glass from his hand before he could take another sip, a few drops trickled on his trousers and he cursed trying to take it back. In a quick gulp, she finished the drink.

"What are you doing, Tom?" she scolded.

"Y/N please," he sighed, "not now, not fucking now,"

"Look at state of you, stand up, Tommy," she demanded, but he didn't move at all, "fucking stand up!"

Tommy's eyes widened as she pulled him up with all her strength, he stumbled on the stool he was sitting on and firmly held onto her arms, certainly the spots would get sore later.

"Are you drunk?" she asked quietly, the look in her eyes didn't hide the concern and Tommy didn't have the heart to push her care away.

However, he didn't answer, instead his rough hands traveled to her nape and tangled his fingertips on her hair. At that moment he was unable to express the relief only her presence brought, he was certain that he'd go mad if he had to deal with everything alone.

Tommy stared at her gentle eyes and she stared back. The face she very much loved was forming wrinkles, gray hair hid itselves in his well drawn eyebrows, above everything he looked exhausted.

Cupping his cheeks, she traced the scars on his cheek and under his chin, a wave of overwhelming affection washed over her,

"You're my basis, Tommy," she whispered, "I know I don't say it often, I know I don't say it enough, but the truth is that none of this would make sense without you,"

Tommy hid the shock her words caused by looking down at his own feet, he was beyond surprised. So he wasn't just an income, someone actually cared for him, the revelation nearly brought tears to his eyes, he always thought being loved would be comfortable and relieving, but it only formed a knot in his throat.

He didn't see himself as worthy of love, especially not hers. Tommy couldn't tell exactly when he started to think she should leave him, he only thought someday she would and he wouldn't have the right to complain, because he was well aware dealing with him was a burden.

Noticing a single tear running down his face, she quickly brushed it off and pulled him to her arms. His chin rested on her shoulder as he held his breath, a trick to keep himself from crying he learnt in his childhood.

Nonetheless, he wasn't able to keep up with it when her hands traveled through his back. While one held the back of his neck, the other traced his spine with gentle, yet firm pressure, next moving to his shoulder blades and lower back.

At last, her embrace became tighter around him, assuring Tommy's silent cry it was okay to come out, if it wasn't for the movement of his back and the tears wetting her clothes, she wouldn't believe such simple words had that effect on him. The truth was, Tommy was much more fragile than he let show.

"It's alright, let it out," she soothed, petting the shaven back of his head, "I got you,"

Five, ten, twenty minutes passed and Tommy started to try controlling his breath, he knew that if he fully let himself go his cry would become compulsive, the tears would run down without control and turn an intimate moment into a humiliating one.

Slowly, he breathed in and out, laying his head on her shoulder. She tried to make eye contact, but Tommy quickly hid his face on her neck, he'd hate to be seen with red eyes and wet cheeks.

He held onto her clothes tightly, at the same time her scent calmed him down, the gentleness she offered made him want to cry again.

"I'm sorry," he sobbed, "I'm fucking sorry,"

"It's alright, love, don't apologize," guiding him to bed, she held him in her arms, a firm and yet tender embrace.

Running a hand through his hair, Y/N respected his unwillingness to be seen, the bridge of his nose fitted on her neck as his wet eyelashes brushed on her skin.

His day had been awful, the stock market crash gave him an awful headache, his family certainly would be against any solution he could possibly find and at last, her words made him stumble and crash.

Eventually, Tommy's eyelids got heavy, her warmth relaxed his tired muscles and he felt safe enough to let the worries slip away. He fell asleep with his head on her shoulder.

Realizing he was asleep, Y/N took the opportunity of doing the same, in the last few months sleeping near him had become a rare occurrence.

Hours went by, enough for the wind gusts to dissipate and a storm to form. The heavy, gray clouds covered the moon in the dark sky, releasing thick rain drops that hit the window with brutal force.

The noise woke Tommy up, he lifted his head to see his wife in deep slumber, he didn't know how much time passed, but he felt less tired, it had been a long time since he took a nap without waking up from time to time.

Peeking at the clock at the bed table, he squeezed his eyes shut and sighed, four in the morning wasn't exactly a proper hour to wake up, especially if he had slept past midnight.

A sleepy noise from Y/N captured his focus again, his eyes wandered to the drawer in which he kept his opium bottle, but he quickly came back at her. Finally, he decided to not disturb her sleep, well aware he probably wouldn't fall asleep again, Tommy snuggled to her and closed his eyes.

He wouldn't say it back, but she was also his basis.

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic

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thelightsandtheroses · 6 months

Text

Four: rumours about my hips and thighs and my whispered sighs

Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.

Chapter Summary: Joel and your relationship continues to develop, as more people in Jackson find out about the two of you. Chapter Warnings: 18+ blog, MDNI, mild smut, brief reference to FEDRA punishments and death, reader is a single parent to a teenager, small town gossip, intimacy and a little fluff maybe? Word Count: 4.1k Notes - Thank you so much for your patience with this chapter. So, a lot of you know that writing smut is not the most natural thing for me and I get very anxious about these scenes so I’ve tried to write this one in a slightly different way as a gamble and I really hope you all still like it. The chapter title is from Is It Over Now? by Taylor Swift

Previous | Series | Next

There’s a polaroid on your bedside table. It’s faded over the years but it still rests in pride of place, tucked into the edge of a framed photo of you and Gabriel in Kansas.

Sean’s sister said it was important to take photos. She said it was important to have a record of your life and loved ones. The only problem was she spent her time behind the camera and you’ve struggled to find any photos of her for Sean since … since then, since FEDRA, since Kansas.

You move to the bedside table and reach for the polaroid, holding it up to the fading daylight.

It was taken Before, by the beach where you spent so much time. It’s Sean and you by a bonfire. He’s trying to look cool with his perfectly undone hair and surfer style, while you’re just smiling widely at the camera.

You were both so young, so innocent, back then.

You love this photo though. It’s a reminder that there really was a time before Cordyceps. That once upon a time, you lived in a world where the biggest worry you had was assignments and college and whether the right people liked you.

You’re different now.

It’s been almost a fortnight since your date with Joel and there’s been a clear shift between you. You were worried it would be awkward the first time you returned to the bench with Joel. The night after your date, you found yourself glued to your home, unable to leave as you paced your room nervously and sleeplessness ruled your mind. You wondered then if you had made a massive mistake.

If you went back to the bench the next day, would he be there? What if he wasn’t? Would it be different and could you cope with those shifts in dynamics?

Your mind had been drowning with anxiety but you did return to the bench. You’ve spent years fighting infected and people- you survived the damn end of the world.

You could handle this; you could handle a little change.

Now you realise that for all that has changed, so much has stayed the same.

You still talk on the bench, but you’re touching him more, you’re closer and closer by the day. You’ve discovered your hand fits perfectly in his.

It’s not like before with two lost souls just sharing a view and waiting for the night to pass.

Often now you end up kissing and oh, that’s becoming one of your favourite side effects of insomnia. You wonder if you ever really need to try and sleep if that’s the alternative.

Now your evenings on the bench are spent together, in easy comfort. You laugh at his stupid jokes - Joel told you that he found a book of them and is working through them with Ellie.

This feels like a beginning.

When you see him in town now, he walks over to you and yesterday he had walked you home from the library because it was ‘on his way.’

It’s tentative though; Joel’s taking his cues from you, from the fact that maybe this isn’t like your dalliances and romances before. In Kansas, for the last twenty years really, you felt like the world was ending all the time. There was no time for build-up in a world like that, for a genuine connection or a slow burn. You might be dead at any moment so there was no time for that. It isn’t that love can’t happen in those conditions, you know Beau and Sean are shining examples of this. It’s just for you, your priorities were Gabriel and survival. Pleasure was perfunctory, relationships were only distant, you didn’t think you were built for anything more.

Now, in Jackson, you can breathe. You can be more.

You want to be more.

It’s just how to make that first step, how to reach out and go beyond the bench. Joel was the one to ask you to the Tipsy Bison after all, if it’s up to you to progress things …. well, maybe you need to be bolder.

You wring your hands together and look ahead of you.

You can barely remember putting your coat on or walking over to this house. It’s early evening and the deep pinks and oranges of the sky are turning dark, lights starting to turn on in the commune you call home to beat the shadows ahead.

You’re outside of Joel’s house, in front of the porch You’ve got this, you think. This is a big step. One that feels filled with trepidation and excitement at once.

It’s the fact you want to open up, want to trust Joel that truly scares you. You can remember the last time you felt like this all too well.

It’s different though. It’s completely different.

This is Joel.

There’s an inherent fear in falling for him, falling for anyone. Trusting someone, letting them inside your life, into the nooks and crevices of your soul? That doesn’t come easily to you. Relationships have always been hard that way, even before the world ended or before Gabriel, or before any of it.

You’ve known him for weeks though. He isn’t a stranger., he’s a friend, one you feel more deeply than friendship about. The two of you bonded through your insomnia led conversations, through your bench. In the dim torchlight, both of you have exposed all too much of yourselves.

This is a step further though, it’s bold and maybe a little brazen but it feels right, like it’s time. You like Joel, you want him. He’s solid and caring and real and somehow it feels like you’ve known him so much longer. You like being with him, like the way his lips feel on yours and the way his eyes warm up when he smiles. You like hearing your name from his voice, how he says it like it’s something special. You can’t remember anyone saying your name like that before.

This is a step further though, it’s bold and maybe a little brazen but it feels right, like it’s time.

You take a deep breath and knock on the door.

Joel leans against the edge of the door, his right thumb in the loop of his worn jeans.

“Hi,” he says, voice low and slow.

“Hey,” you reply, shifting from one foot to the other. “I hope it’s okay that I just stopped by.”

“Of course.”

The two of you settle in his kitchen. You watch him put the kettle on the stove, watch the flames on the hob around it.

You place your hands on the top of a wooden dining chair and then in your jacket pockets and then by your side.

What are you doing?

What was your grand plan anyway?

You’re not sure what you’re thinking. Ellie could be here. This is stupid and reckless and -

“I’m glad you’re here,” Joel says, as if reading your mind. “Everything okay?” His brow furrows.

You might need to work on your poker face.

”I -” you pause, unsure of how to proceed, what to say to the man before you. “I was thinking of you.“

“Oh, really?” Something like relief floods Joel’s face, his brow loosens and there’s a flash of something else in his eyes.

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

“Well, I don’t know where else you want it to go.”

You laugh at his words and feel the tension around you immediately dissipate. “Oh, don’t you?”

“Careful, sweetheart.”

“Careful?”

“I - uh -”

“Where’s Ellie?” you ask as casually as you can, looking around the kitchen.

“She’s out in the garage, wants to turn it into a den or something? Probably won’t see her for hours and hours.”

“That’s a good idea. Gabe would have loved that with ours but Beau made it a gym. Anyone in Jackson can use it though.”

“I heard about something like that,” he says placidly, as if thirty seconds you weren’t flirting.

“It feels odd, like the last twenty years haven’t been enough of a workout, but -”

“It’s normal.”

“Or as close to,” you say softly.

“Exactly.” The kettle is starting to whistle but neither of you move.

“So …”

Joel closes the gap between the two of you.

His lips are on yours almost instantly. For someone who isn’t the most open or transparent in his words, he communicates perfectly with his gestures. The way he puts so many words into the way his lips fit against yours, the hum of a low sound in his throat.

His hands sweep down your side, pushing you against a kitchen counter, your hands bracing the edges as you melt into him.

This isn’t the kissing on a bench, this isn’t like anything you and Joel have done together yet. This is a sea change moment.

As you wrap your hands around his neck to bring him closer, you feel his hands move to where yours were, bracing the edge of the counter as he deepens the kiss once more.

You want his hands on you, not the kitchen counter, you need him.

You can’t tell if it’s the kettle’s crescendo or the blood in your ears but something around you screams. You can’t really care though. The whole house could be burning down now.

Joel pulls away momentarily to turn the kettle off.

“Sorry about that, it got loud.”

“Don’t apologise.”

“You - ”

“I-“

“Sorry, go ahead,” he says, his expression a mix of amusement and something else. There’s a heat in his eyes. It isn’t dangerous; you don’t feel under attack, but you knew exactly what you wanted when you knocked on his door.

You pause, pursing your lips as you try and bring to life the right words, the phrases you rehearsed in your mind as you made the journey between home and here.

Words don’t feel your strength at the best of times though. They fail you and falter and can’t vanquish your foes.

“I’m - I don’t want to talk right now,” you finally say, fixating your gaze on the kitchen floor. For twenty years old, it looks in good condition.

“Really?”

You look up and finally meet Joel’s eyes. He’s smiling at you. You nod.

“So, why’d you come over then?”

“Don’t be an ass.”

“Okay.”

“Is it okay that I’m here?”

“Is it okay you’re here?” Joel asks incredulously, muttering something else you can’t quite make out under his breath. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m impossible?”

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I live with two men and a teenage boy, I deserve a fucking medal for avoiding the dodgy puns you almost bought on yourself right there.”

“Fuck me.”

You smirk then, uncharacteristically emboldened and raise an eyebrow. “Well?”

“I like you,” Joel says suddenly.

“I like you too,” you say, reaching a hand to touch his bicep, feeling the surprisingly soft flannel fabric. “You’re - I haven’t really dated in Jackson. You’re different, I guess.”

“Good different?”

“Ask me later,” you tease.

He meets your lips. “You seemed so sweet on that bench that first night.”

“Did I? Sweet? I was trying to be standoffish and rude at first so you didn’t come back.”

“But I did.” Joel pauses. “Maybe you weren’t that sweet. I knew you were - I wanted to know you more and then we got talking and - and you’ve been the best part of not being able to sleep in years. Used to numb it all away, but I couldn’t do that here, not anymore. Then there was you.”

“It’s been - been a while, I might -“ Joel says, a bashful look on his face.

“Same, it’s uh, been some time for me too.”

“Okay then.”

“Okay.”

There’s the briefest of moments where you remain silent, separated by an invisible barrier of tension and anticipation.

You break it. You go to him.

It’s time.

It’s the two of you. Lips on you every step of the way to his bedroom, hands entwined with yours as he guides you where you need to be.

You pull your top over your head, keen to lose the layers that are you keeping you from him and you hungrily unbutton his flannel.

It’s how his words oscillate between sweet, gentle encouragement and then convey such unbridled desire and heat in the same breath. His touch is stable, grounded and fills you with heat as his fingers deftly unbutton your trousers, skim over the fabric of your underwear.

You don’t feel uncertain or nervous or self-conscious.

You feel like this is natural.

It’s how his hands explore every part of you, then his lips, accompanied by with whispered words.

It’s power and care together. There’s something different about the way it feels, the way he moves inside you, the way he kisses you, the way he feels.

You feel the tension mounting, the heat building across your body and with every touch, every kiss, every movement, it intensifies, builds in the most delightful way.

You take in every detail of Joel, the heat of his skin, the cross patch of faded and red scars across his body, the sounds he makes and the way it feels as you run your hands through his dampening curls, bring him closer to you in a consuming kiss.

You let go.

You wake up in an unfamiliar but comfortable bed with a beam of daylight blaring through the gap in the curtains . You’re not sure what surprises you more; that you’re with Joel or that you slept through the night.

Joel’s arm is casually strewn over your side, his head burrowed into his other arm and hair dishevelled. You can hear the sound of his breathing, deep and slow.

He looks peaceful like this.

You take in the details of his face. There’s a faded scar by his temple, marks of a life spent surviving and labouring, but asleep he looks younger.

You shut your eyes. You can have five more minutes before you need to wake and get back to Gabriel and your home.

“Hi,” he says, rubbing his eyes.

“Hey. It’s morning.”

“How about that?”

“This was nice.”

“Just nice?”

You shake your head. “More than nice, that work for you?”

“Maybe we ought to make sure - I don’t want you leaving here on just nice.”

You kiss him, let his hands roam down your body as you entwine your own hands around his neck. As his body moves over you and his hand skims down to between your legs, you think you could easily forget about the library or checking in on Gabriel and just spend the rest of the day in Joel’s bed, getting to know every inch of this impossible man.

You hear a loud crash downstairs and Joel winces, rolls back onto his pillow and sighs.

“Next time,” he says.

“It’s a date. Look, I need to get back before Gabriel notices. Do - do you need to run interference so I don’t bump into Ellie?”

“’S fine.”

“Are you sure?”

Joel props himself up on an elbow and regards you carefully. “Do you want me to run interference?”

“I - no, I don’t know. I just wanted to give you the option.” You shrug.

Joel seems deep in thought, his brow furrowed as you wait for his response. For a second, he seems lost, somewhere else entirely.

“There’s no need for that,” he says finally.

“Okay.”

You smile and when he joins you, it’s dazzling. You notice every detail of his face, how his eyes soften when he smiles, how real this moment feels. You could stay here so much longer, you could wake up like this again and again.

You hear another bang downstairs and Joel winces.

“I better get down there.”

You nod. “I’ll be down shortly then.”

Joel nods, smiling tentatively. “I, uh -” He runs a hand over his hair. “Oh, shit I’m no good at this, not anymore, not sure I ever was. “

You briefly kiss him. ”It’s okay. We’re okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You sigh. “Can we talk later though. I mean, I meant to talk to you last night before - before everything.” You need to have that serious conversation about how to move forwards, at one point you will both need to talk to your teenagers, about all of the unsexy, intricate details that are essential but preferably avoided.

“Is that an ominous talk?” Joel asks.

“No,” you say with a smile, “no, it’s not.”

“Then definitely.”

You’re running through a ledger of current book loans when you hear footsteps ahead. You look up and brace yourself without thinking; it isn’t easy to forget years of what’s needed to survive.

You feel your muscles relax as you recognise Maria as she walks into the library, holding her baby closely in her arms.

Maria’s walking over though. You can’t do this in front of her.

“Hi Maria,” you say cheerfully, stepping out from behind your counter.

“Hey,” she says, “I’m sorry, it’s been a while since we caught up.”

“Please don’t apologise, you’ve had more than enough going on,” you say, reaching your hand towards Maria’s daughter’s chubby cheeks. “She’s gorgeous, Maria.“

“Yeah, isn’t she though?” Maria says with a soft sigh.

“How are you doing?” You ask carefully. You can’t imagine how Maria really feels. There is the intense joy of her beautiful, healthy daughter and the simultaneous memories it must bring up of Kevin. You can’t imagine that kind of loss, dread to think what sort of world you could live in without your son.

“I’m okay, I’m good.”

“Good,” you say, trying to wordlessly communicate that if that changes you are here, that you want to be there for her.

You and Maria have been friends since shortly after you arrived in Jackson. When you first entered the community, you were nervous, resistant at best and outright scornful at worst. It didn’t make sense to you a community like this could exist anymore. You needed to find the truth, needed to expose what was really going on.

Maria had found you searching her house one day, eyes wild and on the verge of pulling up floorboards.

It should have been the end of your time at Jackson. She had every right to kick you out of the town for that and you expected her to.

Instead it was the start of a friendship you now rely on. You wonder if Maria saw the truth behind your eyes, could intimate why you might have been so nervous. You’ve never told her though and she’s never asked.

You and Sean haven’t told anybody but Beau. Even Beau only knows a version of the truth. It’s easier that way.

You wonder if Sean is like you - if he’s repeated a story so many times it’s began to feel like the truth.

“I heard - I heard some things on the grapevine and I might have seen you leaving a house this morning” Maria says, her face a picture of contradictions. There’s a sly smile growing on her face but her brow is furrowed.

“Did you now?” You fold your arms, wary of where this is going. There’s only one thing in your life, one person, you think Maria would have heard gossip about.

“So, you and Joel, huh?”

You fight a smile at having guessed correctly. Maria meets your eyes and her expression softens as she watches your reaction.

“It’s … new,” you reply slowly, still idly letting Maria’s daughter clasp your finger and smiling widely at her.

Maria nods and then she bites her lips and seems to ready herself to say something. “He’s …”

“Your brother-in-law?” you note gently, taking a step back to lean against the desk. You’re more certain of Maria’s take on this now and you hope the intention behind your words come through.

Maria sighs, “Yep, you’re right there. Touché.” She smiles, shaking her head lightly. “I didn’t come here to warn you off.”

Good.” You can’t, you realise. It’s not because you’ve slept with him, it’s more than that. You’re coming to realise how deep Joel’s burrowed into your life, how much you care about him.

It is terrifying and wonderful at the same time.

“I guess I was a little surprised though.”

“Surprised?”

“You haven’t shown much interest in dating since you got to Jackson.”

You laugh to yourself, tapping your fingers against the edge of the wooden desk. “Oof, Maria, body blow after body blow, huh? Your mom’s on fire today, sweetheart.” You pause and carefully choose your next words. “It’s not a lie though, is it?”

You take a step back and take a sip from your glass of water as you try and think about the best way to explain what’s happened.

“Look, Maria, I wasn’t exactly looking for anyone, Joel just … turned up in my life and - and I can’t know what this is going to exactly turn into yet or how long, but I want to find out.”

“Okay,” she says, “We can work with that.”

She smiles widely suddenly. “We should all have dinner soon.”

“No, no,” you say, “it is way too early for that.”

“Excuse me, I saw you leaving his house this morning but it’s too early for a dinner?”

“Absolutely it is. I haven’t even talked to Gabriel about this yet and it’s -”

You shouldn’t be surprised that there have been whispers about you and Joel but you’re surprised it’s moved this quickly. Jackson has that cliched small town feel you used to watch cheesy movies about. The one drink with him in the Tipsy Bison was enough to start the rumours but if Maria knows about last night already then the gossip is spreading faster than you expected.

It’s always been difficult to know the moment when to introduce Gabriel to someone you’ve dated, when to tell either party about the other. You love your son and all you have ever wanted is to protect him.

At the same time, you know this feels like something that will become something he needs to know about. You try so hard not to immediately fall for people, to keep your previous relationships at arm’s length, to go into anything with your eyes open and every option evaluated.

You’ve fallen hard before after all.

You shift awkwardly on the spot. You’ll have to talk to Gabriel tonight - keep it brief, keep it simple and casual. It’s only fair he hears about this from you and not some teenage idiot in his class.

“I’m teasing,” Maria says softly, “it’s fine. Though, I know the two of you. So, if this does go where it looks like it will, I’m holding you to that dinner.”

“Deal.”

You’ve almost finished for the day when you notice Joel walk into the library.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” you say, placing the pile of CDs you were checking down. Beau stopped by earlier with a pile of discoveries from the morning’s patrol and to confirm he had noticed you were in last night’s clothes this morning.

Joel looks awkward for a moment, loitering by the counter.

“I know you said we should talk and - I didn’t know where else to find you.”

“It’s fine, it’s a good idea actually.” You gesture over to where you’ve placed two battered armchairs in your attempt to create a reading nook.

“It looks good here, like a proper library.”

“Yeah?”

Joel nods and opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something but stops himself.

“You know, you’re not my first visitor today,” you say casually, “I saw Maria earlier.”

“Oh?”

“Seems we’re the talk of the town.”

Joel runs a hand through his hair. “Fantastic.”

“All my dreams have come true at once.”

Joel sighs. “Do you want me to back off then?”

You look at him, your brow furrows in confusion. “Back off?”

“I know it’s harder when you’ve got kids and especially teenagers - if you want space, to let the gossip die down so we don’t have to - I should have realised when you said about interference.” Joel seems to be reciting something he’s ran through in his mind already.

“I don’t want you to back off,” you say with a smile. “I - I don’t know what we’ll be yet, or if any of this is going to work out at all. Hell, in a week we might be working out a bench custody agreement -”

Joel snorts at that. “Okay, I hear you.”

“I like you, Joel, and I - I had fun last night. I’d like to see where this goes. I need you to respect that I have a kid, like I respect you do. We can’t rush this, we can’t -”

“Agreed.”

“I’m kind of glad you turned up on my bench that night, Joel.”

Joel smiles. “Yeah? Me too.”

Tag List

YHIM: @orcasoul @pedropascalsbbg @yoursoulsunbreakable @iamskyereads @genetics4life @everyth1ngfan @frickatives @perennialdoll247 @joelsgreys @pedrobaby @missladym1981 @noisynightmarepoetry @picketniffler

Everything Pedro tag-list: @harriedandharassed @pedrostories @hiroikegawa @pedrosaidsheispunk @pastelnap

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x female reader #joel miller #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #your hand in mine fic

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kyouka-supremacy · 5 months

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Okay about Beast sskk; because I realized I've got a very definite picture of what the Beast post-canon is like that is only in my mind and I never actually put down, so here we go. Very needed content warning of sickeningly fluff and Beast sskk being disgustingly in love with each other, I suppose.

After Dazai killed himself, Atsushi is reasonably tormented, and can't sleep at night. Roaming across Yokohama late at night, he always ends up at Akutagawa's– instinctively, unconsciously, to an extent even unwillingly. He doesn't choose to, it's more about countless nights unable to sleep spent wandering with no destination and still always finding himself in front of Akutagawa's place for some reason. Akutagawa somehow always knowing when it's going to happen so that he can face him before Atsushi has time to hesitate and run away. How they don't really need words or explanations most of the time, how for Atsushi knowing that there's another person who understands is enough, and everything he needs. How before Atsushi realizes it (and thus keeping him from trying and prevent it), Akutagawa's house has become the only place where he can fall asleep.

That's how they start living together before even being together. They might not even have an actual “getting together” moment, you know? The development of their relationship is so natural and spontaneous, it was meant to end that way from the beginning. Besides, Beast sskk don't really need words between them, so... I suppose an actual confession, albeit nice, would be almost superfluous.

Soon enough they move together to a small apartment near the ada (I'm assuming Atsushi has still enough money saved from his old job). Against popular belief, with time it kind of crystallized in me the idea that Atsushi wouldn't join the ada? His life to that point has constantly been doused by violence and pain and death, he deserves a long break to cope with all the trauma; throwing him right back to another environment where he's constantly pushed to fight and use his ability would not do any good to his mental health; especially when he's got such a conflictual and hating relationship with Byakko, even worse than it is in canon. I wasn't kidding about the house husband thing. Beast Atsushi stays home and chills down and is safe and away from all major sources of stress and triggering environments. Slowly, with time, he goes out more often, gradually relearns what normality is supposed to be like, and bit by bit all his traumatic experiences get more distant, and the nightmares more rare. Akutagawa follows up with his ada job– obviously! There's a whole deal in the end about how important it is for him to keep doing his job and trying to be good. I do believe the ada is the right place for Akutagawa. He returns home to Atsushi who always welcomes him with warmth and joy, and they cuddle a lot.

But I also believe that there would be times when Atsushi is required to go back to action and fight– he's not a member of the ada and he doesn't work for them, but it's obvious that when the ada is in danger and Yokohama is facing serious threats, the guild and the rats and ultimately the doa, the times will call for his intervention. He usually comes to help or rescue Akutagawa, a trump card of sorts. And it's endearing, how Akutagawa is always the one, even among the ada, most contrary on getting Atsushi involved, how he wants to protect him and keep him away, how more than anything he wants him to be safe. As for Atsushi, I really like the concept of this man who retired from action, that spends most of his time at home or chatting with the seniors in the neighborhood, who joins the fight only when the situation is most desperate and reveals himself to be the most powerful and destructive beast to have ever walked on earth. He reluctantly fights, and together with Akutagawa they end up saving the day for everyone, because as Dazai himself said nothing can stop the both of them together.

On the other hand, when the world isn't ending Atsushi solves that very specific role of crime drama protagonist's husband who's very supportive of their partner and listens to them ramble at home about their cases. He often offers useful insights on how criminal organizations work.

Atsushi didn't replace his collar after it broke. They're barely visible under his turtleneck, but he has now wrapped bandages in its place: to hide his scars, to keep the memory of Dazai with him everywhere he goes, to remember what he's lost but also what he's gained.

Ah, and when it comes to the fight against Fukuchi, Atsushi is the one to die for Akutagawa, of course.

Headcanons that directly contradict something stated above but that I still like:

Sskk get together after six months– it's got an ironic taste to it, the timestamp their canon counterparts set to kill each other now being the time they declared their love to each other. It's so soon, but also is it really? They immediately clicked the moment they met each other, and they were always destined to be. At that point, there's no one in the world they need more than they need each other.

In case of Atsushi still wearing the collar for some time after the canon events: sskk had their first kiss when Atsushi took the collar off for the first time. Ever since Dazai died, Atsushi is haunted and unstable; he's throughout scared of taking off the collar, terrified by the idea of hurting someone unintentionally, now that Dazai can't be there to controll him (both through his ability and by the general power he used to have over Atsushi's psyche). Akutagawa sees how much Atsushi is physically hurting, and insists on him taking the collar off; they fight over it for months (verbally, for the most part, except for a couple of times when the fights become physical– but without abilities), before Akutagawa finally manages to convince Atsushi to take it off for a few hours. When they're alone, because after months of being persuaded, Atsushi can trust Akutagawa to be able to defend himself; and also something about “you would never hurt me”. Thing is, when Atsushi finally takes it off, he quickly spirals into a HUGE panic attack, not able to trust himself not to harm the people he cares about; and the only person around is Akutagawa, and he cares about him deeply. The tiger is taking over, and Akutagawa is panicking, and he's desperately looking for a way to quickly ground Atsushi so he just. Kisses him. Which effectively works in the way it immediately distracts Atsushi, as well as causes him to zone out for several minutes. Akutagawa immediately apologizes, and then panics again when Atsushi doesn't answer for a while. It's kinda cute. After that, Atsushi gradually learns to take his collar off more and more often; this time, he can really trust that, if Akutagawa is with him, everything is going to be okay.

#This might as well be the sappiest thing I've ever put down but like. idk did I make it go through that Beast sskk are meant to be #atsushi nakajima #ryūnosuke akutagawa #sskk #shin soukoku #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd beast #mine #15/08/23 #This is ridiculous I never realized how soft I made them until I actually wrote it down.#It's so silly when I'm also the first one ready to make canon sskk suffer #What can I say. They've suffered enough.#“The bandages are barely visible under his turtleneck” I mean that's for when he wears his turtleneck–#and not Akutagawa's striped shirt as he does at home. Which is an awful amount of times but nobody needs to know that.#I'd say this is self-indulgent but it's not like I'm doing it on purpose this is seriously what Beast sskk is like in my mind.#Nothing much I can do about it. That's the realistic Beast outcome for me.#If the author wants to prove me wrong by dropping Beast 2 they're more than welcome but untill then *this* is my canon #kbcu (Kyotag Beast Cinematic Universe)

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puckspoetry · 4 months

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DPS: Anderperry

There’s something so deeply upsetting and unsettling about Anderperry; I think that it’s the notion that Neil and Todd had something truly special but due to the nature of society they could never explore it further. Not to mention Neil’s suicide, leaving Todd completely alone and vulnerable. To him, Neil was completely torn away from him without warning.

The only way I can try to describe even an ounce of Todd’s pain is having a rug of comfort, love, safety, inspiration, and life completely ripped from underneath you. Todd is left without any sort of coping mechanism and is expected to move on with his life.

I mean, imagine being forced to live in a world where your lover committed the ultimate sacrifice for a glimpse of relief, and you’re left to pick up the pieces, unable to speak a word of how you felt. But all of this could have been avoided if people were kind and accepting.

THAT is what I find so horrifically and violently gut wrenching about Anderperry.

Screaming.

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keiranan · 7 months

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Sometimes I think about Lauren Sinclair and how-

Sometimes I think about how no one around Lauren could ever hope to understand and comprehend her, her uncle begs her to move on, try to date, anything to get her mind off Dylan, Will is ever silently terified on causing any touble for her (even if Dylan's death hurts him as much) and Kym knows what it is like to lose someone so important, but she coped in a different way so she does not get it entirely.

She has spent her whole life on trying to find answers and avenging Dylan, but each and every time she's came up empty handed and with more questions that what she started with. She's powerless, blind and an idiot because she can't accept truths that staring her in the face or doesn't understand it right away, not because she wants to but because she is unable to. She feels the guilt weighing her down most of time, she was there, she feels she should've done something. Will and Kym lost their siblings out of the blue, and Will is losing his mother ever so painfully slowly, yet Lauren had a little hindsight, a little hint, a warning of what could take place, but she couldn't understand then, hell she barely can now. She's the blindest of them all because she lets her personal motives interfere with the truth and because of her inability to accept the truth as it is.

The only person that has gone through something similar is Kieran. They both wasted time in getting revenge, they both lost people they loved to the Scythe, they both go to great lenghts in order to achieve what they need even if it is inmoral and still, they differ, he is quiet and isolated and Lauren is furious and impulsive and powerless suffering something similar does not mean she will be entirely understood by Kieran and because of her nature people look at her and see a mad woman, someone who is unable to see past her grief but not because she wants but because she has devoted her entire life to her grief. Lauren has become her own monument to her own grief and everyone just observes from the outside, never truly knowing how big or how impactful or how it came to be.

In conclusion, Lauren Sinclair needs a hug.

#purple hyacinth #lauren sinclair #webtoon #lauren needs a hug campaign

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irbcallmefynn · 10 days

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Okay this is a very hard post for me to make but i feel like i have to make it. I can't be quiet about this any more. I can't keep saying it where nobody will see it because i need people to see it. If the friends of anyone mentioned in this post want to send it their way, feel free. This is not a call-out post. This is an apology, and an ask for explanation.

I want to preface what I'm about to say with: I'm not mad at anyone mentioned in this post. I don't think anybody in The Creachures is. We all miss you and wish things could've worked out. I'm sorry if what I say comes off as hostile or aggressive, I'm not great at wording this sort of thing, and it's coming from a place of much emotion.

@hexedbug @juneibyou @xxthunderthedragon @bobisnotaperson @razzytism

You five have caused me a lot of stress and anxiety in not telling me what i did to hurt you. You haven't given me the opportunity to improve upon myself or correct these transgressions, or even apologize to you. I'm sure you're all at least somewhat aware of how I handle feelings like this, and I understand you not wanting to pander to me or hurt yourself by putting up with me and my Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. But you all let me down very harshly, and I've been unable to move past what happened because of it. You've made being on Tumblr miserable, to the point you're making me consider quitting Tumblr, because being on here and seeing you constantly and feeling that sense of hatred hurts, especially when you're being closer to my friends than they are with me. I've been told you don't hate me, but it's hard to believe and accept that when, in my head, you've all decided to block me for unknown reasons, and denied me the ability to apologize.

Hexed. I understand you find what I post about weird. And I understand I was interacting with people who "dragged the server down". You're the one I understand the reasoning of the most. Not following me back because you don't like my posts is fine, though you could've just blocked tags/post content about that stuff. If I was tagging things improperly you should've told me so I could correct it, instead of letting it sit inside you until you couldn't handle it. I get I was encouraging people to vent in Tau Heximus 2, something you didn't want. But again, you should have said something, or done something. I contributed to making your server a place you didn't enjoy. I feel like you wanted both a strictly positive place, and a place where people can be honest and close, two things that don't mesh. I chose the one that I enjoyed more, a close, honest community. I'm sorry I went against your wishes.

June. When you left the server, you said that "Bug Squad" were real ones, and that you still liked us. You then went on to call us and our friends Delusional for starting a new server after the old server's death. That hurt immensely. I understand you were in an emotional place, but using a word like that is not acceptable. You also went to my girlfriend's private vent blog to target it directly. You're the only one I ever blocked, because you were being actively hateful, and betrayed my trust directly. I have since unblocked you, though, because I'm not mad at you, not anymore. You were trying to cope with what happened, and I get it. I just wish you handled things more gracefully and politely. I'm sorry for whatever I did to hurt you, besides joining a new server. Just, please, work on your emotional control some, so outbursts like this don't happen again.

Thunder. You're the one I miss the most. I felt so close to you. You almost felt like a brother to me. But the way you've been avoiding bringing up what I did to hurt you makes me feel like you either don't want me to know what i did, or don't know what I did yourself. I just wish you'd be more open to talking, so we can work things out. I'm so sorry for hurting you.

Bobbu. I thought we were still friends when you invited me to join Art and Slimes. I turned it down because I don't think I could handle a server of that size, and had already joined the new server. While we maybe weren't as close as some of the others, I still considered you a friend. I'm sorry for whatever I did.

Raz. I am so, so sorry for everything that happened. TH2 was the only place that you had found comfort and support in to such a degree, and I've been worried about how you've been without that support. I feel like you used to trust me a lot, enough to confide in me about some of your issues. I wish I knew what I did to betray that trust.

There's three others I wish to bring up that haven't hurt me as bad, but I still wish to say something to.

Mars, I'm glad we're still friends. But it feels like you're less a part of Bug Squad than you are Hexed and June's friend group. I'm always worried about the state of our friendship, since you interact with them so much more than Me, Rico, and Tetra. I just feel excluded and neglected, is all. I'm sorry.

Yaza, I don't know how to feel about you. You're clearly more of June and Hexed's friend than mine. Clearly you don't like the new server because we kept bringing this stuff up in the early days, and I'm so sorry for that. I just wish we could still be friends. Because right now it doesn't feel like you want to be my friend.

Eblu. I don't know what to think of you. You're a good guy, really. But when you say you're my friend and then turn around a few days later and say "if you're friends with [close friend of mine] don't interact with me" I have issues with that. Deciding that everyone who's friends with someone is now bad because they made a mistake is not okay. Yes, it was bad that it happened. Yes, that friend should've been more careful. You are valid for being upset by what you saw. But you don't have to declare everyone who likes that person undesirable. You took it too far.

There are two things I did that I feel I need to apologize for that I actually know of.

When Tau Heximus 2 was dying, I had said that killing the server would kill me. That was disgusting of me. I should not have said that. It was emotionally manipulative of me. I was scared, and confused, I had never experienced something like that before, the loss of somewhere that felt like home, it really felt like I was going to die, and I spoke with my heart instead of my head. If this is what I did to hurt you, I am deeply sorry for saying something so uncomfortable. I'm doing my best to keep my emotional responses under control. And I hope that should anything like that happen again, I won't have such a dramatic response.

I would also like to apologize for being so difficult to help. Whenever I'm offered advice on how to improve or fix something, I have a habit of coming up with excuses, or just flat out rejecting it. I don't mean to come off as ungrateful or opposed to your help. Stressful situations cause me to mentally shut down in a way where anything to help that takes even a slight amount of effort becomes an insurmountable task. I'm trying my best to be more receptive of help, even if it's just agreeing that it would help. I just wish I had the means and energy to actually act on the advice. I am so sorry for anyone who I've hurt by denying your help. Offering me advice does help me mentally, because it lets me know people care, but I feel terrible that I hurt people by not being able to accept and act on the help.

This isn't a call-out post. This is me asking for clarification on what I did wrong, apologizing for what I know I did, and wishing to clear things up.

Thank you for reading.

#long post #i'm sorry.

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attonposting · 1 year

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Just thinkin' about how showing your companions the Force in KotOR II is about healing, about teaching them to confront their traumas and cope with them in a healthy way, and on a Dark Side run, it's about yanking on that trauma and twisting it until it becomes all that they are.

Atton is a goddamn mess of a person. The war wrecked him and shaped him into a sadistic monster who committed mega war crimes until he met the one Jedi who forced him to see what he'd become. And instead of taking any responsibility, he bolted, coping by drowning out the world and doing his damnedest not to feel. The Exile forces him to stop running and confront himself – to face all those emotions he chopped up into little pieces and wore like masks, his guilt, his hate, his fear. I don't think Atton ever thinks of himself as a Jedi; him learning to use the Force is him learning not to be afraid of it, and himself, anymore. Atton decides he's going to finally try to do something with his life – maybe not for goodness' sake, but because he owes that last Jedi that much. And a DS Exile extinguishes whatever seeds of decency she planted, destroys his last remaining shreds of idealism, and convinces him not to fear himself in a much, much scarier way.

Bao-Dur is a genuinely good guy, but he's shackled by guilt. It's not straightforward, and it'd maybe be easier for him to deal with it if it was - Bao-Dur simultaneously regrets and doesn't regret what he did. He believes... not necessarily that Malachor had to happen, but that the war needed to end. But he's horrified that it was his hands and his mind that conceived the Mass Shadow Generator, can never banish the sight of so much death at his hand. And he can't reconcile how what drove him in the war was pure hatred, and the galaxy treats him like his service was a noble thing when he knows it was anything but. That rage hasn't left him even though he tried to move on and turn his hands towards kinder things. Through the Force, he's able to move on and at last find peace – but a DS Exile convinces him to give into his anger and let retribution rule him completely.

Mira is at her heart a scared little girl trying desperately to prove to herself that she's tough and capable – that she's over everything she's lost, that she's not alone and afraid. She tries not to care about anyone, because the galaxy certainly doesn't give a shit, but she does despite herself. A LS Exile teaches her how to come to terms with the things that hound her, and in that, find true strength. A DS Exile teaches her to cover up that fear by preying on others so that nobody ever has the chance to hurt her again, and convincing herself that hardness means strength until it becomes true.

Brianna has tried to find purpose in servitude, but she's isolated in an otherwise tight-knit unit. She's desperate to prove herself, but she's never good enough for anyone, and she knows why she continues to fail even as she's unable to let the source go. A LS Exile teaches her to transcend those concerns and be true to herself above all else – not only to follow her own path, but to find strength and value in herself, for the first time in her life. What Atris thinks, what her sisters think, is immaterial. A DS Exile doesn't free her from her mindset of servitude so much as twist her loyalties. That Brianna instead becomes convinced she's better than her sisters, better than Atris, and takes her anger out on her ex-family and beyond – becoming driven by scorn, seeing nothing but the failures of the Jedi to live up to their own standards.

Mical lost his future at a young age – something that probably saved his life, considering everything that happened in the following years, but which left him trailing in the shadow of the Jedi seeking answers nobody could give. He wants to believe in the Jedi Order, but recent history has left him with far too much evidence to the contrary. A LS Exile acknowledges the flaws of the Jedi teachings, even personifies those flaws through their history, but convinces him through their actions that their core still rings true and is worth striving for. A DS Exile utterly demolishes his faith in the same manner. Mical takes the Exile's fall as yet another betrayal by the Jedi, but it's the hardest hitting yet - this sheer debasement of the figure he idolized most. It finally extinguishes his idealism, even gnawing away at the compassion that defines him until he's yet another soulless cog in the Republic machine.

And Visas is already attuned to the Force, but a LS Exile gives her hope for the galaxy and teaches her of the beautiful little moments of connection and the greatness people can achieve together, where she'd become convinced that life was pain and the only thing any being could aspire to was an end to the suffering. What she witnesses is strong enough for her to come to terms with the death of Katarr and choose to keep going despite all that's happened. And a DS Exile... doesn't. They reaffirm her desolation and then give her the callous end she sought.

The Exile themselves went for ten years avoiding connections, and then the Force thrusts them back into the role of a leader – a role they've got decidedly mixed feelings about, when it was literally their empathy that caused their self-destruction in the Mandalorian Wars. Major YMMV on how you characterize your Exile's motives, but the way I saw it, a DS Exile isn't going to be hurt again. They're not going to get attached to their soldiers – they've made that mistake before and it brought them nothing. They know how to say the right words to get people to fight and to die for them, and that's all it is. And for a LS Exile... they know the danger of caring, but they won't allow it to stop them from living any longer, not after they've spent ten years dead to themselves. And it's the human connections they form that heals them, that allows for them to touch the Force once more.

Obviously a DS Exile is bad and they should feel bad. For a LS one, though - the Jedi Council's repudiation of your powers at the end of the game used to really bother me until this part clicked. You're all a bunch of broken people who find each other and learn to move on. Even if you're drawing them in with freaky black hole space magic, they are genuinely better off for your presence, and it's because of who you are as a person, not any way you've molded them through the Force.

#kotor #kotor 2 #kotor ii #atton rand #bao-dur #visas marr #mira #handmaiden #mical #disciple #the exile #jedi exile

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darlingpwease · 2 years

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judging by the fact that the post about yuuta and bodywriting, for some reason, is still revalent, — for those who do not see it: I advise you to eventually do a filter for nsfw content — let's move on to the next stage of my not smooth conviction that he is a whore for attention in a much deeper sense than just "look at me" for anyone within a five-kilometer radius

cw improper use of abilities, very rough sex, group sex (gangbang), cum inflation implied, size difference (belly bulge), dirty talk, double penetration, consensual noncon / dub-con, oral sex (r.), praise + degrading praise + name-calling (slut, whore, cumdump) (g.); reader with a dick

You say "my ability allows me to make physical copies" and it all ends with you pushing into Yuuta while he is choking, trying your best to orally satisfy your copy, knowing that he still has many willing ones to take advantage of him and his position — and that all these "willing ones" are versions of you, created to fuck him until he loses consciousness.

When you — they — praise him for how well he accepts, being the cutest slut for all your cocks, or how diligently he tries to take deep, whining when you cum in him again, filling his pretty mouth; when Yuuta tries to swallow everything only to be pushed apart again and forced to serve a new one, even when his body is close to orgasm, wrapping legs around your hips during especially deep and rough thrusts, as if not caring about his own pleasure.

Your dick creates a belly bulge while you can see how his hot throat stretches, taking the form of a new dick, ready to fill his pretty empty mouth again; saliva drips from his mouth from the inability to cope well with simultaneous thrusts, making him to squirm under you from pleasure and the need to get more — intersecting with your strong holding of his upturned legs, forcing him only to accept and work obediently, counting only on your desire or unwillingness to reward him, if he won't be diligent enough for you.

When his mouth carefully licks each cock, taking care to pay attention to each of them, until your hand grabs his hair and forces him to focus only on one, sticking his nose into your pubic hair despite his inarticulate moans and whining when you move his head too slowly, teasing with a lack of sensations. Yuuta's look is so resentfully pitiful, almost meekly dissatisfied, wanting to reproach you for meanness, — but unable to even move until you allow it, drooling when you finally give him the opportunity to take you to the end again, fucking his throat, already ready to swallow everything you give him.

But even when you cum inside, Yuuta has no way to tell you anything, feeling a new hand tangled in his hair, waiting for him to take one dick out of his mouth to replace it with another, taking advantage of his complete defenselessness and inability to refuse.

... However, Yuuta's stomach becomes even more cute when he grabs your shoulders, whimpering and breathing heavily when two cocks push into his hot, unable to cope with what is happening body, allowing you to stretch him to such a state that he can not breathe normally, looking at how his flat tummy is trying to take in even more, being unable to prevent you from making a pretty cumdump out of him.

While your dicks find a way to get even deeper, being tightly squeezed by him, but not experiencing any problems because of this, squeezing and caressing his sensitive body; when you coo how diligently he tries to prevent you, only to still be well bred and full of you in the end, like your good pretty whore, loving take as many cocks as he can until he is completely filled and unable to cope with everyone — as if it's your fault that Yuuta is so greedy and depraved, craving more than he can satisfy.

When Yuuta turns out to be completely stuffed, he so charmingly gasps for air, without taking his wet adoring gaze from his stomach, squeezing you with all his strength, not letting you push back until he is satisfied with the view — and you don't bother him at all, knowing that in the near future he will only be able to scream and whine until his voice breaks while you stuff him with your cum. Your hands grabbing his hair while his body is clumsily trying to follow the confused rhythm of filling, the meaning of which is only that he does not remain without attention for a second; even then Yuuta is trying to tell you something, he is giving up when your hand slaps him on the thigh, assuring that you will definitely listen to him when he takes care of all these cocks that also need his attention like those that are inside him.

When all the attention is focused only on him as the main star of this show, where, even when you fuck him until his body becomes stretched and gaping, soaked in your and his juices, he is the only one whose mood is of paramount importance, since your gaze is not reduced to him and his reaction — while you hold his hands tightly, giving each version a round to fill him with semen so that his stomach is rounded, or make him swallow every dick until Yuuta feels full, warming up from constant touches and friction that do not allow his body to cool down once all the time. Tell him he looks so cute, or what a slut he is, or how you can't take your eyes off him, he takes your breath away while literally choking on your dick — and cums so many times that can't count anymore, letting you just have fun and use him as you want, going too deep into a process to focus on something else.

Your attention-loving showboy, showing a peace sign when you ask him to show you whether he likes what is happening — such a whore for attention <3

#.spicy♡#✉.yuuta okkotsu #🧸.group sex #🧸.dp #🧸.amab reader #the most incorrect tag #but as if someone uses them besides me #dom reader #sub yuuta okkotsu #top reader #sub jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #amab reader

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paradoxesofgalaxies · 1 year

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If You Wake Up After a Nightmare, Coping With Trauma Related Dissociation

[image ID: If You Wake Up After a Nightmare

If you wake up at night after a disturbing dream or nightmare, or feel anxious and panicky, it is important to be able to calm down and comfort yourself and other parts that are anxious. Work with yourself and your therapist to develop various ways to help yourself.

• The first step is always to get your bearings in the present. Use all the anchors to the present you have put in your bedroom. Talk to yourself quietly and tell yourself out loud where you are.

• Turn on the light and get out of bed. Perhaps have something to drink and find something to distract you.

• Splash cool or cold water on your face, hands, and the back of your neck. This will help you get more present and awake.

• Consciously slow your breathing. Try some breathing exercises.

• Do some gentle stretching exercises to help your body reorient to the present.

• If you have a pet, spend a little time petting or cuddling with him or her.

• If you have physical symptoms, such as a bad taste in your mouth, or pain or discomfort, be mindful in talking to yourself inwardly as you do things to soothe yourself (for instance, brush your teeth, have a noncaffeinated drink, suck on a mint or hard candy, massage painful muscles): "I am in the present now. Whatever happened to me is over. I am safe. My mouth, my legs, my body, etc., are in the present. I am doing all I can to help all parts of myself." Try to be aware of any internal sense of what might help.

• Some people find that it helps if they write down a distressing dream or image and then put it away, tear it up, or bring it to therapy. The idea is not to go further into the experience, but to contain it by putting it on paper and leaving it until a more appropriate time.

• You might try "changing" your nightmare. Add a supportive or strong person to the dream, invent a way out of the situation, or give yourself special powers to overcome any sense of powerlessness or fear in the dream. Your therapist may be able to help you with this kind of technique.

• Some people wake up from a nightmare and find they are unable to move. Although this is extremely uncomfortable and even frightening, it will not last for very long. It is simply the state of being paralyzed by fear. If this happens to you, make sure you have some anchors to the present visible from every angle from the bed: on your left, your right, even on the ceiling. Even though you cannot yet move, you can begin to see the anchor and gradually perceive you are in the present. This perception will help your body shift out of that paralysis mode. Try starting with a tiny movement, for instance, blinking your eyes, and just barely twitching your toe or little finger. When you can do this, then move the opposite toe or finger. Then make a slight movement with your hand or foot, then your arms or legs. Continue slowly and patiently until your entire body has become more able to move.

/end ID]

#dissociativeidentitydisorder #coping with trauma related dissociation #DID book quotes

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baeddel · 8 months

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obviously, i'm trying to get my head around things as someone who doesn't ultimately know that much about about Palestine. i went to look at Al-Manar (Hezbollah's news outlet) and they have this article (click) saying that while in the past 'the resistance groups' of Palestine (they don't name Hamas or anyone else) have been forced to be on defense, they have been moving towards a new strategy, an offensive strategy. Al-Jazeera had an analyst on saying something similar, that this was a 'new resistance approach' (click, scroll down a bit), seeing it as a way of sending a message to other Arab states that have settled into normalized relationships with Israel that they can't have it both ways.

obviously Al-Jazeera and Al-Manar both have a specific point of view on Palestine, but i wondered how much it was true that Hamas were building towards a new kind of strategy that the rocket attack (by the way, what Iron Dome?) was an expression of, and what reasons would underlie that change. one condition is obviously the availability of rockets, something Hamas didn't always have (if this wiki article is correct, click, the last suicide bombing on Israel was 7 years ago and there were only two in the 2010s; i feel that this is a big change, not just strategically; doesn't it allow for a big change in the kind of relationship you can have between an organization and the people it wants to represent when it no longer needs to convince young people to kill themselves to carry out operations? access to rockets must come with access to new civic modes as well).

i remembered an article by Haaretz (a left/liberal Israeli newspaper; unfortunately i can't find the specific article again—i posted it on this blog but tumblr's search is awful) from years ago about the war between Israel and Hezbollah in 2006, where they said that the IDF were blindsided by Hezbollah because the IDF had transformed itself into a counter-insurgency force to deal with Palestine and were unable to cope with Hezbollah's conventional military, taking the view that it may be impossible to have an army that can effectively cope with both insurgent 'small wars' and conventional militaries. since then we've seen the US transition from being COIN-oriented to 'Great Power Conflict' oriented, at least according to a lot of media (see WSJ, click). i was reminded of it because of the theme of the shifting approaches to war in the region.

i went to look Haaretz today to see what their view was; they seem to mostly focus on the Israeli dead and the threat Hamas pose to Israel. i am not sure what their real position is; on the one hand they're ultimately an Israeli paper so that bias isn't unsurprising, but i appreciate that they also probably can't publish treason during a war, so you can suspect timidity. one article has the headline "Israel Must Smash Hamas" (click). but the very next word is "But..."—as if to say, 'of course we support the war, we only wish it was a just one.' their rhetorical strategy is to start off talking about the cost to Israeli lives, especially civilians, but then to redirect the discussion towards Israel's internal politics, to say that this wouldn't have happened if the Israeli government hadn't mismanaged its handling of Palestine, that the government is full of corruption and that they can't effectively respond to the threat that Palestine poses. i realized that the article on the Israel-Hezbollah war was actually saying the same thing; it blames the situation on the transformation of the IDF and so forth. in this article they first blame it on the government's creation of the division between Gaza and the West Bank, their unwillingness to recognize any Palestinian authority, and their unwillingless to work towards a peace process that might have "required territorial compromise in the West Bank."

but then they blame it on Netanyahu's corruption, saying that he appointed incapable people to the positions of Minister of National Security and Minister of National Defence because they were his personal allies, and that their reforms have "severely weakened the IDF." in contrast to the Arab outlets Haaretz' analysis effaces Palestinian agency, which is actually a familiar motif to me as a radical in the West who supports the Palestinian resistance. everyone talks about Israeli settlerism, Israeli rockets, Israel's sanctions and so forth, and are happy to attribute full causal powers to these things. this is because it's necessary to convince people (and renew their conviction that) Israel is the enemy, but i think there's also a certain timidity about acknowledging Palestinian agency for various reasons (you don't agree with Hamas about anything except that Palestine should be free, you don't want to support the killing of civilians, and you don't know what relationship ordinary Palestinians have with Hamas). but Haaretz take a view that i have never seen before and which is probably very uncommon outside of Israel, which is that the IDF are actually weak and mismanaged and that's the problem, and that the situation could be better if they had a left-wing government with competent leadership committed to peaceful negotiations, and that political changes in Israel are the step forward.

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notallangelsaregood · 1 year

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My thoughts on Spy x Family Chapter 80

New chapter, new review, yeehaa! Everybody, calm down, calm down! This is not a drill! My heart is still beating fast from the excitement of this new chapter. I need to breathe in order to organize my thoughts and start here! Needless to say, manga spoilers ahead.

Firstly, thank you for all the support on my last review, I definitely was not expecting it, and I'm glad some of you (many!) enjoyed it, thank you, truly. I will keep uploading my thoughts here, since it's really pleasing to write about something I absolutely adore. Now, let's start! (well, I spent 10 unexpected minutes trying to find this chapter online in English, this was quite frustrating, but oh well, that's life. Thanks to the discord server, you saved my ass).

I'm surely glad Endo and his team choose to not time skip this, I mean, genuinely glad. Honestly, I was afraid of that, many important subjects of the manga (specially TwiYor related) has been time skipped or not given the right amount of attention immediately. Have you guys noticed that too? It's not exactly a complaint, I understand some matters need to be addressed later. But, yeah, I'm thrilled they went right into the next day, It shows that this matter is really relevant for some sort of change in their dynamics, at least, I believe that.

Loid is such a great husband and father material, I mean, look at him! His slightly messy hair, not combed back, gives him such a carefree look. And little miss Anya is as adorable as ever.

Becky is a whole mood! Martha covering her mouth had me rolling. Our girl is totally amazed by her crush. And so are we, I mean, can we judge? Look. At. Him! His tiny smile when he says 'good morning'.

Our poor assassin is shaking with nervousness. Again, can we judge her? LOOK AT HIM. Okay, sorry, overreacting is my coping mechanism. By the way, I love Yor's hair down, she looks lovely.

All right, Loid is charming, asking if she rested well and worried about her drinking. I don't believe this is a façade, he is truly worried about her, he always is, but unable to admit it is not solely for the mission. And Yor thinking her coworkers being right, our girl is so confused.

Her face, look at her face. Her train of thought is not at all well oriented. For me, appearing normal to her equals being accepted by others, but mainly by her family she doesn't yet realize she loves. Besides, being normal to her also means covering up her job, which means protecting and being able to provide a better country for the ones she loves. I think that's quite honorable, and it mirrors a lot of Twilight's principles.

She is so hesitant, simply because she doesn't know. She doesn't have any gripes, but by believing that having them equals normality, she is totally pushed to find something, besides, she is worried about Loid having gripes about her and that's lovely.

We all know Yor has problems with her self-esteem when she is not in her Thorn Princess mode, and she worries a lot about being a good wife and mother to Anya. So, this is something recurrent on her mind, which leaves her insecure and I believe Loid gives her confidence to speak up and try to be better for them. Again, she is honorable and so is he. Moving on!

The PANIC™ on his face. Our poor spy was not expecting this at all. And WORSE, he is a highly trained spy on human expressions, but still, he can't tell she is lying, his train of thought is not oriented as well. I wonder, what is blurring it? What is provoking his lack of discernment? I wonder.

Damn, Yuri, what a great timing. Again, look at Loid's expression. He is devastated. Poor man. I'm still perplexed at his lack of insight, he is the best Spy of Westalis, a legend, but still, Yor disarmed him. And that means a LOT about their dynamic.

Needless to say that I burst out laughing. I love Yuri's intensity.

Yor defending Loid is so charming. And Yuri is a mood, we can't say he is a bad brother. He tries to be present, but I believe he is trying even more now that Yor is married, it's funny to see. Also, he just goes in? Like, does he have the key or something? Haha.

'I just wanted to make our marriage look normal too' again with this concept of ideal normality. She is constantly trying, for her own reasons, but for them.

Loid is so done, haha. And Yor stuttering when she said they are not getting divorce, our girl is nervous, she wants this family so bad.

Twilight mode: ON. Still, he is so nervous, deep down, this is not the best spy of Westalis. This is a man, a father, and a husband wanting for this to be fixed, for his wife to feel better. It's not for the mission, Loid, sorry to break it to you. Not sorry. He isn't even real. I'll be better when my medication kicks in, sorry.

'No, just since yesterday'. She is so... I don't even have the words. I guess, random? Look at her face. She is basically telling him 'Nah, I love you, I'm just confused about this very same topic'. She says he didn't do anything, be coherent, Yor! She can't, she is in love

And Loi Loi trying to calm down himself in the process of almost panicking over not being good enough for his wife is everything to me. There has to be a reason, he said. Yeah, duh, she wanted to kissy kiss you. Very much so.

'Inadvertent oversight', phew, am I really bilingual? Truly? Damn. Look at those dorks' faces when they are side to side, so cute, talking to each other before saying goodbye.

He is quite worried about her finding out about his true identity. I wonder if it is because he is, deep down, afraid she will leave him once she founds out. He doesn't want to be alone again. Almost lifeless, like Sylvia's life is now, without her family. Damn, I'm going to cry.

All I see is a Twilight trying to justify his genuine will to apologize, using “the mission” and spy protocols to cover it. Nothing can convince me otherwise, am I delusional? Probably, girl, go take your meds.

Poor Loid, he is so confused. It reminds me of one of the last chapters where he is like 'real marriage sure sounds difficult'. Oh, well, it hits close to home, huh? I see what you did here, Endo.

This is not Twilight. Maybe, like, some percentage, but not all.

He is SO confused, I'm dying. She is basically telling him 'that's the problem, you are too perfect, I need to complain about something, make me suffer for the sake of normality in marriage (?)', I mean, Loid, ma boi, I would also be confused. And her blushing, so adorable.

Preach, girl! I mean, can we acknowledge how important is it that Yor said that? 'This is a marital issue between me and my husband!', no stuttering, no hesitation, to her own brother. This is HUGE.

I absolutely hate this phone. I could tear it down to pieces.

I love Yuri realizing Yor said that she is Mrs. Forger, he is so shocked it's funny to see. Also, she is getting used to it, to saying it, It's a huge improvement since the beginning of the manga. I already told you guys I absolutely hated this phone call?

Look at her blushing face when she comes out with a huge act. Loid's face is hilarious. And Yuri? Yes, boy, she is that eager to spend time with her husband. Kinda.

He is really sorry! Poor Loid. And Yor is cute, her reasoning gets me rolling every. single. time. She is a special girl, I love her.

BOND MA BOI, you lost the huge gossip going around your house like that? For a nap? I mean, It sure seems like a really good nap, but we kinda need you to see the future right now, If you wouldn't mind. And Yuri is wild, I love him, but he is totally wild. His mind is as... peculiar, as his sister's is.

'Even Yor?' Oh boy, you don't even know half of it, Loi-Loi.

Look at Yuri running. I'm so done. This chapter has served us a lot.

Yor is herself again! Loid's mind note: Never offer alcohol to Yor, ever.

No more images are allowed on my post, so I wanted to end it here with my view on the next pages. I'm surely worried. I mean, this is getting really serious. It is a whole new arc coming, and I'm worried about our cherished fake family. Yuri is on Ostania's side, receiving orders to not let WISE interfere, and Loid is defending Westalis and the peace between the countries at all costs. I'm wondering what could happen next. What are your guesses?

I'm sincerely worried about the documents being decoded and the positions of the agents being undiscovered, but mainly about Operation Strix, of course, they are my everything. My guess is that the documents will be recovered, however, so many things can happen in order for this to happen.

I thought a little bit about Yuri finding out about Twillight being Loid (in combat), but I believe that's unlikely, since our famous spy is a master in disguises. Yet, him finding out due to these documents being leaked does not sound pleasant. Can you tell I'm worried? I'm EXTREMELY worried, there are so many possibilities and I have no idea what will happen. I'm counting the days till the next chapter.

Hope you guys enjoyed my ultralonghowareyoustillhereandalive? Review. Feel free to comment what you think here. I'm posting this as I wrote, so if I find some grammar or spelling mistakes later on, I will fix it. 1731 words, more than 30 screenshots and a few hours later, phew, I'm tired. Thank you!

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