#also She’d like to. she wants people to reply with images because she wants to rp . That means. more of him. Which I Will Be Quite Fine And

[dirtbra1n]

HER TWISTED NATURE... HER SCHEMING MIND... WE WILL GET 10K HANZAWA LORE IN 2025 I SWEARRRR. SHE CANT KEEP GETTING AWAY WITH THIS

“This person’s story will be featured on both routes this year.”

What does she mean when she says story. What does she mea Malt what the hell does she mean

[gudfornuthin]

Unexpected Comfort

Season 4!Diego x fem!reader, (past) Five x reader

! SPOILERS AHEAD !

! MINORS DNI !

Summary: after finding out the news about Lila and Five’s relationship, Y/N needs to get away from it all. Who knew she’d find comfort in the one other person broken too?

Word count: 2.65k words

A/N: ayooo. I wanna thank everyone for the support I received from my Five fanfic, it means the world to me that people read and enjoy my writing. I’m definitely thinking about ideas for a part 2, and I also have some requests I need to complete, but for now this lil thing popped into my head and I had to make it. My sweet Diego deserved so much more. There’s fluff, there’s angst, there’s a lil bit of smut (I’m trying to get better at writing that lol) so I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t want you to find out this way.”

Those were the words that came out of Five’s mouth before Y/N stormed out of the house, leaving behind the shocked faces of the Hargreeves siblings.

Five had cheated on her. With Lila. Diego’s wife, the mother of his children. She felt like throwing up. They’d created a life together, seeming to forget all about the life they had here, in the real world. Five tried explaining how a few hours to her had been years for him and Lila, but Y/N wasn’t having it. She couldn’t imagine giving up on a relationship she’d spent so long working on, like it meant nothing at all. At least they weren’t married with kids. She doesn’t want to think about how much this is killing Diego.

Having left the house, ignoring the calls from the family, Y/N continued walking for what seemed like hours. She wasn’t familiar with this side of town, and the dark streets all blended together. Had she already gone this way? Was there a bus stop she could seek shelter under for the time being? The night was getting colder and she was finding it hard to catch her breath, the tears still flowing. She knew she couldn’t continue on for much longer.

After walking a few more blocks, Y/N finally spots a bar/diner, the lights still on inside. Better than nothing, she thinks, as she slowly makes her way towards it, in desperate need of a drink.

The diner is quiet, only a few patrons scattered around, either drunk or on the verge of passing out. The bar tender nods in acknowledgment when Y/N sits on one of the bar stools, asking what she wants.

“I’ll just have a beer.”

The bar tender rolls his eyes. “What kinda beer?”

Y/N shrugs. “The cheapest one you’ve got.”

He wonders off to sort out her order, as she rests her head in the palms of her hands, closing her eyes and trying not to sob like a baby. The pain in her chest still lingers, as she can’t escape the images of Five and Lila, and the life they had made together. The life that should’ve been hers. With everything going on, she’d almost forgotten about the world ending, again. But that was surprisingly the least of her worries at the moment. She just wanted to scream, and punch and kick anything that got in her way. She needed a cigarette. And she doesn’t even smoke.

“Thought I’d find you here.”

A voice sounds off to the side of Y/N, as she slowly opens her eyes. A beer bottle stands in front of her, and she turns to her left, spotting Diego in the seat next to hers. He looks worse for wear. Red eyes, prominent frown lines, and a pouty lip.

“You look like a kicked puppy,” Y/N mumbles, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, I wonder why,” Diego replies in a gruff voice, grabbing for her beer and taking a swig.

The pair go quiet, listening to the soft tune playing through the overhead speakers, dwelling in their own thoughts. The two of them had never exactly been close. Since Y/N joined the family she’d always gravitated more towards Klaus and Alison. Frankly, she didn’t understand why Diego was here with her. Maybe because they were both dealing with the same situation, with both their partners being the main focal point. Or maybe he was just in desperate need for a drink too, as shown when he downs the rest of the bottle. Y/N alerts the bar tender, putting up two fingers to ask for a second round. Hopefully she can actually have some this time.

“Was I a bad husband?” Diego finally speaks up, breaking the somewhat awkward silence.

Y/N glances his way, unsure of how to respond.

She clears her throat. “I dunno if I’m the right person to answer that,” she scratches at the label on the beer bottle. “But from what I saw, you were pretty good at it.”

He doesn’t say anything, so she continues. “And you’re also a good dad. I can’t imagine how hard it was, going from one apocalypse to another, to just living a normal life. Pretending none of it ever happened. You didn’t let that get in the way of taking care of your kids. They know you’re a good dad.”

She notices the tears forming in Diego’s eyes and looks away, knowing he wouldn’t want others to see him cry. She sips her drink, the burning sensation hitting the back of her throat.

“For what it’s worth,” Diego starts, “you’re not a bad girlfriend.”

“I never thought I was,” Y/N bites back, her tone harsher than she wanted it to be. “But what are you supposed to think when the love of your life admits to having an affair?” She laughs bitterly. “With his fucking sister in law!”

“Hey, you’re preaching to the choir here,” Diego says, rubbing incessantly at his eyes. “Just tryna make you feel better.”

“Well you didn’t.”

“Yeah, I got that.”

They bask in silence again, both too stubborn to apologise for snapping at each other. They know neither of them are in the wrong. But the wounds are still fresh, and it doesn’t seem like they’ll heal anytime soon.

Almost an hour passes, along with 9 or 10 bottles of beer between them, when the bartender finally tells them it’s closing time. They both get out of their seats, leaving the bar and standing awkwardly outside in the cold, Y/N shivering having left the house without a coat.

“You cold?” Diego dumbly asks.

Y/N rolls her eyes. “Well done, Sherlock.”

Diego looks as if he’s about to say something in retort, but chooses not to. Instead, he silently slips off his jacket, handing it over to her, insisting she takes it before she can refuse. She does so, mumbling a quiet ‘thank you’. They continue standing outside the bar, watching the occasional car drive past, lighting them up every so often.

“I can’t go back there,” Y/N says. “Not yet anyways.”

It was a stupid thing to think that this could all be avoided. She’d eventually have to face Five properly, let him explain fully what happened during that time he was away. But she couldn’t. She doesn’t want an explanation, or an excuse. She just wants it erased from her memory. To forget about it all. To forget about Five.

Diego puts his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I’m not in the mood to figure out that shit show tonight.”

He pauses for a beat, then briefly glances at Y/N. “There’s a motel not too far from here. We can grab a couple of rooms, take the time to get some rest, and figure all this out tomorrow.”

She doesn’t say anything, simply nodding in agreement, and following Diego to their accommodation for the night.

***

The pair arrive at the dingy looking motel, booking two rooms next to each other, and muttering quick goodnights. Y/N can feel the exhaustion taking over, as she sits down on the bed, and yet the thought of falling asleep makes her anxious. She can’t remember the last time she went to bed alone. It was always Five right by her side, comforting her if she had any nightmares. Which had become more and more frequent the past few weeks.

She tries distracting herself by turning on the tv, flicking through empty channels and purposely avoiding the news. She takes a shower, scrubbing off the physical and metaphorical grime. It helps her feel slightly better, but still she’s wide awake. She walks laps around the room, which isn’t much considering the bed takes up most of the space. And yet she still can’t sleep.

Her mind wanders to the man in the room next to hers. Is Diego having the same issues as she is? Or has he completely worn himself out to the point of passing out for the next several hours. Is it too forward if she goes over there and asks to stay with him for the night? He could end up giving her a weird look and slamming the door in her face. Or he could see a woman, sad and distressed, and know she’s just in need of someone to comfort her. The risk is worth the reward.

Y/N leaves her room, stumbling slightly over her own feet, the alcohol starting to take effect. She steadies herself, standing in front of Diego’s door and knocking. It takes a moment, but he finally opens, shirtless and hair a mess.

“What’s up?” He says, his voice gruff.

Standing in front of him now, Y/N can’t help but feel stupid. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with her problems right now, not when he’s still trying to figure out his own. The only thing on Diego’s mind is most likely Lila, and getting some much needed rest. This was a bad idea.

“Uh,” she shakes her head. “It’s nothing, no. I shouldn’t have disturbed you, I’m sorry.”

She begins to walk away, trying not to fall over, until Diego’s voice calls her name. She turns, seeing him standing half way out of his room, a sad expression on his face.

“Neither of us really wanna be alone right now,” he says, motioning slightly for her to follow him through the door.

She waits a second, unsure if this was the best idea. Now feeling as if they were both about to cross a barrier that neither of them could walk back through.

Taking the plunge, Y/N silently follows Diego into his room, closing the door behind her. She suddenly felt nervous, unsure as to why. Diego is already back in bed, getting comfortable under the covers, ready for a much needed sleep. Y/N looks at the bed, then towards the small couch, not knowing which one she’s welcome on.

“Diego…”

“It’s fine,” he rolls over, not looking at her. “You can build a pillow wall if it’ll make you feel better.”

Y/N nods, not wanting to admit how glad she was that she could sleep next to Diego tonight. She’d feel this way about anyone at the moment, right? It’s got nothing specifically to do with him. Her mind is racing, as she climbs into bed, hoping to fall into a deep slumber as quick as. She doesn’t build a pillow wall.

***

Barely an hour passes before Y/N is woken up suddenly by a sound. She sits up in bed, eyes bleary and watery, looking around the room with squinting eyes. The bathroom light is on, shining through the cracks, and Diego is no longer beside her.

She hears the sound again, a soft whimper, barely audible. It’s coming from the bathroom, and she can already guess who it is. She slowly scoots out of bed, tiptoeing on unsteady feet towards the door, knocking slightly. No answer. And the noise has stopped.

She knocks again, trying the door handle at the same time. It budges, as she gradually pulls it open. The sight was heartbreaking. Diego sits in a curled up ball in the corner, covering his face, and desperately trying to stop his heavy breathing. He doesn’t acknowledge Y/N’s presence, as she moves over to him, crouching down. She gently grabs his hands, pulling them away to see his red, tear stained face.

“I’ve lost everything,” he whispers, breaking Y/N’s heart more than it already was. “I feel like my life’s over.”

Y/N strokes his hands, trying her best to soothe him in anyway that might work.

“I have no purpose without her,” he continues. “I try saving the world, but I couldn’t save the one thing that matters the most to me. I’m useless.”

“That is not true,” Y/N finally replies, hating these thoughts running through Diego’s mind. “Her actions are not a reflection on you.”

Diego begins to protest, but Y/N quickly shuts him down. “I know how much you care. Sometimes I think you care a little too much. But that just proves how good of a husband and father you were. You did nothing wrong. It’s all on her. And Five.”

She chokes out the last part, almost forgetting about her own problems. They’re both going through this, together.

Y/N doesn’t even realise she’s now crying too, holding her hand up to her mouth to muffle the sound of her sobs. Diego reaches out, pulling her into a bone crushing hug, the pair needing comfort from each other more than anything.

She moves her head back slightly, kissing Diego on the forehead, then the cheek, then hesitating at his lips. Her mind feels fuzzy, as the alcohol in her system still lingers, jumping between the pros and cons of what she’s about to do. Diego makes the decision for her.

The kiss is soft at first, his moustache tickling her upper lip, the sensation of it weird but not unpleasant. She wraps her arms around his neck as he puts his hands on both sides of her face, deepening it into a full blown make out session. Y/N opens her mouth, allowing Diego to slip his tongue in, eliciting a quiet moan from her.

Their current position is uncomfortable, as Diego sits pressed up against the sink with Y/N crouched down in front of him. He pushes her back slightly, so they can both stand, never stopping the kiss. The room feels hot, as they walk out of the bathroom and aim for the bed, Diego sitting down on the edge with Y/N straddling his lap. She quickly removes her top and bra, drawing the man’s attention to her breasts. He moves away from her lips, traveling down until he’s eye level with her chest. He takes one in his mouth, sucking harshly, while his hand massages the other.

“Oh fuck,” Y/N sighs, throwing her head back.

She grabs his hair, pulling a fistful of it, forcing Diego to suck harder. She moves her hips back and forth on his crotch, desperately wanting to get out of the rest of her clothes.

As if reading her mind, Diego pulls back, moving them both higher up the bed, quickly removing his pants as Y/N does the same. Now completely nude, the pair become a sweaty mess of body and limbs, wrapping themselves around each other, and making sounds the other occupants in the motel can definitely hear.

Diego’s thrusts are meticulous, as he hooks one of his arms under her leg, pushing in and out, knowing all the right places to make Y/N scream out in ecstasy. He kisses her lips, her neck, her chest and her breasts, not wanting to leave out any part of her. He makes her feel wanted, admired, needed. Like he can’t breathe without her. It feels good. They carry on into the night, and early morning, for a moment all their problems don’t exist anymore.

***

Y/N wakes up first. Her head is pounding, her mouth is dry, and there’s a dull ache between her legs. She grumbles, the memories of last night rushing back to her in an instant. Some good, some bad, and some unforgettable. A small part of her is consumed with guilt, knowing what she did could be seen as hypocritical.

But as Diego’s strong arm wrapped around her waist pulls her closer to his chest, snuggling into her neck, that feeling washes away. In some selfish way, they both needed this. An eye for an eye, as most would say. It’s not going to end well, and she knows they’ll have to eventually deal with the consequences the same way Five and Lila did, but for now, the rest of the world can wait a while. Y/N turns around, moving impossibly closer to Diego, the man who made her feel wanted at a time where she didn’t think she was.

[cece693]

Hello (Joe Goldberg x Male! Reader)

Hello. So after however many years, I've decided to begin watching YOU and fell in love. I know Joe's psychotic and a stalker, but how can you look at him and not see a cinnamon roll :)

Summary: A new customer has entered the bookstore and, unsurprisingly, caught the attention of Joe Goldberg. After his disappointment with Beck, can M/N be his one true love?

tags: love at first sight, Joe feeling possessive over male reader, however male isn't what he seems, flirting, fast fast-paced relationship, no smut but hints at it

Hello. And who might you be? Joe’s eyes followed the man. Browsing each aisle with sharp eyes, obviously searching for something but not wanting to ask for help. Dressed in a formal shirt and trousers, it’s clear you work in an office—or perhaps you simply like dressing up. Do you enjoy the attention—the stares that follow you in awe of your beauty? Or perhaps it's a disguise to hide your self-consciousness?

Joe was so focused on analyzing the new customer that he didn’t notice Ethan joining him at the counter, following his gaze. “Wow, what’s up with the weather? First that chick, and now him?” Ethan’s voice broke through Joe’s thoughts, causing him to drop his stare. “What was her name again?” he whispered to himself, snapping his fingers obnoxiously.

Beck. Guinevere Beck.

The person he thought would be his perfect companion was an utter disappointment. When Joe first met her, she seemed perfect—intelligent, charming, and full of life‚ but as time went on, cracks began to show. Beck was just an image she crafted from the people around her, constantly making the wrong choice in matters of her life. Joe tried to fix her but she’d failed—choosing recklessness over stability, lust over love. 

Before Ethan could probe further, the new client approached the front desk, holding a book. "I'd like to purchase this." he said, his voice smooth and confident. There was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he glanced between Joe and Ethan as if he’d heard their conversation from across the room. For the first time, Joe was grateful that Ethan picked up on the unspoken tension, making a half-hearted excuse to leave the counter.

Joe looked up from the book and met the man’s gaze. There was something magnetic about him that he couldn’t ignore. “Finding everything you need?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral, though his eyes betrayed his interest.

The man released a knowing smile that made Joe’s pulse quicken. “I think I’ve found what I’m looking for.” he replied, his gaze never leaving him. There was no mistaking the double meaning behind the man’s words. Swallowing nervously, Joe placed the book in a bag and grabbed the money from the client’s hand. He was thrown off balance; no one had been this direct with him before. It was typically him doing the chasing, the planning—did the man have an ulterior motive? Was he sent by Beck?

The silence wasn’t missed by the stranger, who quickly retracted, his expression softening. “Sorry if I’ve made you uncomfortable.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Joe said, forcing a small smile as he handed the bag over. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” His voice was steadier now, though his heart still raced. “I’m just not used to people being so…upfront.”

“Well, I don’t like wasting time.” The man said with a hint of playfulness. “But I also don’t want to push if you’re not interested.”

Joe’s mind was still reeling, but he couldn’t deny the pull he felt toward this stranger. There was something about him—something different, something that made Joe want to take the risk. “I’m interested.” Joe admitted, his voice barely above a whisper, as if saying it out loud made it more real.

“Good.” the man replied, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “Because I’d really like to get to know you better.” Joe nodded, the words lingering in the air between them. He still couldn’t shake the feeling of uncertainty, but there was something about this moment that felt right. Maybe this stranger was the one meant for him. “I’m M/N, by the way.” 

“M/N.” Joe repeated, letting the name settle in his mind. It rolled off his tongue heavenly. M/N Goldberg. Perfect. “I’m Joe.”

Seeing another customer heading their way, Joe watched as M/N reached into their pocket and pulled out a card. “Here’s my number. Give me a call sometime.” 

Joe took the small piece of paper, feeling its weight in his hand. Without another word, M/N turned and left the store, the bell above the door jingling softly as he disappeared from view. Ethan soon returned and began to babble about M/N’s suaveness, yet Joe barely registered his words. His mind was consumed by how M/N made him feel. It was strange being on the receiving end of flirting, but Joe found it exciting and arousing. 

It didn’t take long for Joe to call M/N and much less for them to somewhat fall into a relationship. It was never dull—M/N had a way of keeping Joe on his toes, setting his skin on fire with mere words. They kissed only once, a heat-of-the-moment thing as they were walking back to the car after a dinner out. It was brief but electric, leaving Joe wanting more. And today, he was ready to take the next step. Joe had spent enough time letting M/N lead the way, always waiting for him to initiate. It was only fair that he returned the favor.

They had planned to meet at M/N’s apartment tonight, under the guise of watching a movie, but even before M/N could greet him after opening the door, Joe launched himself at the man, kissing him passionately. The impact made M/N stagger back, his hands instinctively grabbing onto Joe’s hips for balance.

“I want you.” Joe murmured, drawing back just enough to speak, his breath warm against M/N’s lips. His eyes were dark with desire, the usual careful composure nowhere to be found. 

M/N blinked, taken aback by the intensity of Joe’s actions, but a slow, appreciative smile spread across his face. “Well, that’s a hell of a greeting.” he teased, his voice low and husky. But the playful tone didn’t mask the heat in his gaze as he pulled Joe closer, their bodies pressing together. Joe didn’t respond with words. Instead, he captured M/N’s lips again, pouring all the pent-up emotion and desire he had been holding back into the kiss. It was hungry, almost desperate, as if he was afraid that if he didn’t act now, the moment would slip away. 

Finally, M/N broke the kiss, both of them panting for breath. He looked at Joe with a mixture of amusement and arousal, his eyes flicking to the open door before returning to Joe’s flushed face. “We should probably get inside before the neighbors get a show.”

Joe nodded, a small, breathless laugh escaping him as he realized just how quickly things had escalated. He stepped back, allowing M/N to close the door behind them. But the moment the door clicked shut, something inside Joe snapped. He grabbed M/N with sudden urgency, pushing him onto the couch with a force driven by pure, uncontainable desire.

Straddling M/N, their lips met again in an all-consuming kiss, filled with a desperate need that neither of them could deny. Clothes were discarded carelessly, tossed aside without a second thought—every touch, every kiss, sent shockwaves through Joe’s body, intensifying the fire that burned within him.

As he looked down at M/N, taking in the sight of his swollen, ruby-red lips and the way his hair had become a tousled mess, something primal surged within him. M/N looked utterly irresistible, and the thought of anyone else seeing him like this, touching him like this, drove Joe wild with possessiveness.

“You’re mine.” He murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he traced his fingers along M/N’s jawline, his touch both tender and demanding. 

M/N’s eyes darkened with desire, a small, knowing smile curving his lips. But instead of responding immediately, he shifted beneath Joe, his hands gripping Joe’s hips with a firm, commanding touch. “Are you sure about that?” M/N asked, his voice low and challenging, a playful glint in his eyes. “Because I’m pretty sure it’s the other way around.”

Before Joe could respond, M/N took control, flipping their positions so that Joe was the one lying on his back, pinned beneath him. The sudden shift made Joe’s heart race, the thrill of being overpowered sending a shiver down his spine. M/N hovered over him, his gaze intense, his smile widening as he saw the effect it had on Joe. “You like it when I take charge, don’t you?” M/N whispered, leaning down to brush his lips against Joe’s in a teasing kiss, barely giving him a taste before pulling back.

“Say it.” M/N commanded softly, his voice steady and authoritative. His hands trailed down Joe’s sides, his touch both possessive and tender. “Tell me you’re mine, Joe.”

Joe’s eyes fluttered shut, his body responding instinctively to the command in M/N’s voice. “I’m yours.” he whispered, the words barely audible as he surrendered completely to the moment. “Only yours.”

“Good,” M/N replied, satisfaction evident in his tone. “Because I don’t like sharing.” He captured Joe’s lips in a searing kiss, his hands exploring Joe’s body with a confidence that left no doubt about who was in control.

[shegotheruby]

Make Him Jealous

“If i’m being honest..” Chan continues. “I always had this fantasy that she would see me with another girl and immediately feel jealous. I’d dream at night that I had this gorgeous date on my arm and she’d see me and take me back after that shockwave hit.”

You nod and make eye contact with him. “I’m quite familiar with that dream.”

“So let’s make it come true for both of us” He shrugs. “I’ll help you make this guy jealous like I never got the chance to. Maybe it won’t help, maybe he won’t care, but at the very least can I give you a ride home?”

OR

Running into your cheating EX at a party was not on your bucket list for the night... But a surprise encounter with Lee Chan changes things around. What starts as making Mingyu jealous might end in something more...

WC: 11.3k

TW: SMUT. 18+ MDNI. implied/referenced cheating, alcohol, speed dating, fluff, college au, fluff, again.. smut.

“Jun! Hao!” You yelled over the sound of the party. “Where did Soonyoung go?”

“Not sure” Minghao replied in a daze, obviously focused on the sports match on TV.

“I think he’s with Chan” Jun replied, eyes also glued to the screen.

Not helpful. Firstly, you have no idea who Chan is, and Secondly, this house is massive. Without some help, it would take forever to find your best friend (and your sober driver, because let’s be honest, you’re tipsy). You wandered into the kitchen, weaving in and out of the couples slobbering all over each other in drunken makeouts. It made your heart hurt, seeing all of the happy people. Unfortunately for you, your Ex is here, and you’d rather escape before he tries to -god forbid- speak to you. So you continue on, making your way into the dining room and down the stairs.

You search the entire basement with no luck. He’s not in the main room playing beer pong, he’s not in the cinema room, and he’s definitely not in the bedroom (sorry Vernon…you definitely did not mean to walk in on a hookup). You wander back up to the main level, deciding to check the second story next. You check (more carefully this time) through the different bedrooms and bathrooms with no luck. You call out his name, but your friend is nowhere to be seen. You could go back downstairs, but what if you ran into Mingyu? He broke your heart and you’re not ready to see him with a new girl attached at the hip.

You swear under your breath before leaving the last bedroom, wandering over to an open window. You pop your head out and suck in a deep breath, the cold winter air biting at your nose. At least it didn’t smell like weed out here. A rogue tear escaped, rolling down your cheek, and you looked at your phone again, still no response to your texts. The window opens to a pretty flat roof, and against your better judgement, you decide to step out on it. More tears start to fall, and you realize that you’re not just teary, you’re full on crying. Images of Mingyu the day you broke up continue flashing through your mind, and all you want is to just get out of here. But your stupid friend is missing and your stupid roommate is out of town and you failed your stupid exam today and you didn’t want to come to this stupid party anyway and life just sucks.

You stumble a little in your buzzed state, but the ledge of the roof is feet away. You’re fine. You wander towards it, just hoping to get a good look at the party happening in the backyard. Maybe you’ll be able to spot Soonyoung from above! Genius! You wipe at your tears and step after step walk towards the edge.

But you don’t quite make it, because a strong pair of arms wraps around you and pulls you back against the wall of the house. “Don’t jump!” his voice says, a bit frantic. “There’s always another option!”

“what the fuck” you snap, shoving the stranger off of you. “I wasn’t going to jump!”

“Ok, sorry” he replies, putting his hands up in defense.

You take a moment to stare at each other in silence. You wipe another tear away and feel immediately awkward.

“I didn’t mean to assume…” He speaks slowly, “I just saw a crying girl approaching the edge of a roof…thought I should intervene.”

Reality hits you and you slump your shoulders.You slide down the wall, resting your head in your hands with a huff. “Oh my god.” you mutter. “I am actually a walking disaster.”

You rub at your temples as he stands next to you, looking a little shy. “Um…Are you okay?” he asks, Craning his neck so he’s in your line of vision.

You look over at him, embarrassed because you realize he’s like…really cute. He seems close to your age with shaggy blonde hair, a bit longer in the back. A style you like. He’s wearing an oversized jacket and blue ripped jeans.

“I’m fine. I just can’t find my ride home.”

He sits down next to you and lightly wraps his arms around bent knees.

“When did you see them last?”

“Honestly it’s been like a good hour or two.” you admit. “He wandered away when I was talking to an old friend and I haven’t seen him since. He won’t answer his phone either.”

You check your notifications again to see if Soonyoung has responded, and visibly slump more when there’s nothing.

“I can give you a ride if you want?” he offers, “I’m not drinking tonight.”

You furrow your eyebrows. “Thanks but… I don’t know you…strange roof man.”

He chuckles. “Fair enough, strange roof girl. Lee Chan at your service.” He extends his hand forward in introduction.

Your eyes widen at the name. “You’re Chan!?” You ask, brain fog slowly clearing. “Someone said Soonyoung was with you earlier?”

He nods, surprised that you’ve heard his name before. “Uh yeah. He’s one of my buddies from Chem lab.”

“Do you know where he went?” You ask, suddenly hopeful that you can get out of here before Mingyu sees you.

“Unfortunately…If he’s your ride…I think he’s a bit indisposed at the moment…” his voice trails off.

“Damn it” you huff, beating your head against the wall behind you. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“If you think it means he’s half naked with two blondes in the pool-house right now” he gestures towards the building in the distance, “You’d be right.”

“two?” you furrow your brows again “asshole.” you mutter.

Chan’s eyes snap open and his voice raises in volume as he asks, “Shit, please tell me you’re not his date tonight?”

You nearly choke on a laugh “Oh my dear God, no.” you wipe away the last of your tears, thankful for the distraction from your pity party. “We’ve been friends since I was six. He’s like…my older brother.”

“Older?” Chan asks

“Yeah. I was born in 1999.”

“Me too!” He smiles. “I kind of assumed Hosh was my same age though.”

“No he’s just a dumbass who neglected to take his general science credits until Senior year.”

“Hmm” chan mumbles in thought. “The more you know…”

You can’t help but notice his side profile. (Not that it’s a good time to be thinking about that..but it’s nice. He’s got an attractive jawline…)

“Anyways” he changes the subject turning his body fully towards you. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” you sigh. “and i promise that i’m usually pretty put together and you caught me on a bad night.”

“Wanna talk about it?” He offers. “My rooftop lounge is open for therapy reservations.”

“Your rooftop lounge?”

“Yeah. This is my spot during every party. You wouldn’t believe how much fraternity hazing i’ve avoided by hiding out up here.”

You stifle a laugh..he’s kind of charming.

“It’s a good spot.” You survey the view.

He nods. “What brings you to it?”

“If you must know” you start, straightening out the wrinkles in your jeans. “My Ex is downstairs..and I haven’t seen him since I dumped him for cheating.”

“Ooooh”

You don’t have to look to see that he’s making one of those ‘yikes, i’m really sorry for you’ faces. So you don’t. You stare at your shoes.

“If it makes you feel any better…” He says, tapping your shoulder. “You look really good tonight so he’s probably regretting his decisions and feeling like a loser.”

Your cheeks blush rosy pink at the compliment.

“I actually don’t think he saw me at all” you sigh, pursing your lips. “I got one glance of him with a new girl and bolted to find Soonyoung.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see his face light up a bit. Like he has an idea.

“Well in that case you’ve got the upper hand.” He says nonchalantly.

“Huh?”

“Well if he didn’t see you…” he says, in a singsong voice “he doesn’t know you’re here without a date of your own.”

“But I am here without a date of my own…”

“What’s this guy’s name” he asks

“Mingyu…” You reply, still not following what he’s getting at.

He grins with heart-stopping charisma

“Great news! I’ve never met him. He’s never met me. Complete strangers. Want to be my date tonight?”

You scoff. “Chan, that’s really nice but…”

“Look.” He cuts you off. “Before you say no…”

You close your mouth and stare at him.

“To make a long story short: I got dumped a year ago. The girl cheated on me.”

“And she still was the one to dump you?” You question

“At the time I thought we were in love. I was infatuated and when I found out, I tried to fight for her anyways… she rejected me and chose the other guy.”

“What a bitch…”

“The sad thing is, even now, I wouldn’t say that.” he sighs. “it sucked. Like really, really bad. and I want to hate her. But they seem happier together than she ever seemed with me…so who am I to hold her back from that?”

you raise your eyebrows, surprised that this stranger is being so vulnerable with you. Maybe it’s just the roof vibes…?

“Rambling aside…It still hurt me really bad and you seem like a good girl who doesn’t deserve to go through that same feeling.”

“You don’t really know me.”

“I know Soonyoung. And anyone who has retained a friendship with him for a long period of time probably rocks.” He laughs, looking over at the poorhouse where your childhood best friend is probably doing filthy things.

You purse your lips.

“If i’m being honest..” Chan continues. “I always had this fantasy that she would see me with another girl and immediately feel jealous. I’d dream at night that I had this gorgeous date on my arm and she’d see me and take me back after that shockwave hit.”

You nod and make eye contact with him. “I’m quite familiar with that dream.”

“So let’s make it come true for both of us” He shrugs. “I’ll help you make this guy jealous like I never got the chance to. Maybe it won’t help, maybe he won’t care, but at the very least can I give you a ride home?”

He stands up, brushing his hands on his jeans before offering his hand out to you.

And what the hell. You take it.

***

After climbing back through the window, you pull him into one of the open bedrooms.

“OK. If we’re going on a fake date.”

“Real date” He interrupts. “I asked you to be my date and I plan on being very good to you.”

You chuckle. “Ok Mr. Chivalry. If we’re going on a date” (you emphasize that last word with a shake of your head), “I’d like to know more about you…speed dating with Chan.” You offer, sitting on the bed.

“I like this plan” he answers, sitting next to you. “Ask me anything. Rapid fire.”

“Okay. Major?”

“Dance.”

“Minor?”

“Two. Audio Production and Music Theory.”

You’re impressed.

“Favorite Song?”

“Beat It by Michael Jackson.”

“Astrological Sign?”

“Aquarius”

“MBTI?”

“ESTJ.”

“What’s your type?”

“You.”

“Ok so you’re a flirt. noted.”

He chuckles and brushes his shoulder against yours. “I never said that.”

“I’m good at making logical conclusions” you report.

“Whatever.” he laughs. “What’s your type then?”

“Cute guys who save me from jumping off the roof.” You smirk, avoiding the real answer which might also be…. him.

“Aww” he touches his heart “You think I’m a hero, and you think i’m cute!?”

You copy his comeback “I never said that.” (except he’s totally your hero right now…and yes…he’s totally cute).

He shakes his head. “Next question. Favorite drink.”

“Let’s answer on three” you offer.

“Deal.”

“1…2…3… Strawberry Soju”

“Strawberry Soju specifically out of a BTS themed shot glass that I got for my 21st birthday!”

You actually buckle over in laughter. “Oh my god, Chan you’re a charmer.” You push his shoulder, standing up from the bed. “Where have you been all my life.”

“In your dreams, sweetheart.” He answers, putting his arm around your shoulder. “Speed Date officially concluded. Ready to go find this Ex?”

You nod and open the bedroom door, for the first time this evening, feeling pretty confident.

The stairs are crowded, and Chan keeps his arm around you as you squeeze around the people trying to come up or down. After almost falling over he slides it down so it’s around your waist instead of your shoulders, keeping you upright. You throw a thankful glance over your shoulder and continue down until you reach the main party. He keeps his hand securely planted, lightly brushing your skin where your shirt is cropped. More than a couple of guys greet Chan as you pass by and you realize that he’s actually pretty popular. He seems to know everyone. (except for Mingyu, thank god), and everyone seems to like his presence.

At one point you find yourself in the backyard, dancing to some music by the pool. Chan is talking lightly with some other people, one of them introduced himself but you already forgot his name. You’re just enjoying the moment, swaying to the music with your eyes closed, Chan’s arm holding you up. Somehow, you don’t even notice the reason you’re doing this (Mingyu) on the other end of the yard, but he noticed you.

You don’t notice the jealous look on his face, the way his fists ball up at his sides. You completely miss the affect you clearly still have on him, because you’re wrapped up in your own little world. You miss the way he spills beer down his shirt, mumbling a few curse words before turning away, retreating inside to get away from you.

Some things you DO notice: Chan has an award winning smile. He’s charismatic with the groups of people passing by, and has a “secret handshake” with one of his frat brothers. Despite the fact that you just met, he looks at you like he knows you. He includes you in the conversation when he can and never leaves your side. He dances with you when the music grows in volume, and he’s good at it.

You notice that his neutral face has soft lips that slightly curl into a smile even when he’s not trying. He has an infectious laugh and you don’t really care about making Mingyu jealous anymore. In fact, you don’t really care about Mingyu at all. Or Soonyoung, for that matter. You find yourself feeling grateful that you stumbled into this guy and pray he’s not a drunken hallucination.

At one point the host of the party, Seungkwan, greets Chan with a hug and thanks him for coming. He introduces himself to you and asks if you guys want something to drink. Chan declines, saying that he’s your ride home, but asks for him to grab you some Strawberry Soju.

you glance up at him with a smile “aww, you know me so well.”

“Well we had a very informative first date, I’ve got to start remembering these things.”

“You’re dating?” Seungkwan asks

“Long and complicated story.” You click your tongue. “But we are on a date at the moment, yes.”

You roll your eyes, turning towards Seungkwan. “This is really random…but do you happen to have any special shot glasses?”

Seungkwan’s face lights up in surprise. “Dino. Dude. You told a girl about frat glass?”

“I did not!” He defends. “OK I kind of did…but not like that. It kind of just slipped out.”

“Well now I have questions” you giggle, “Starting with Dino and ending with…frat glass?” your eyebrow raises at that last part.

“If anyone asks I did not tell you about this.” Seungkwan says, side eyeing you with pursed lips

“My lips are sealed” you promise, miming yourself zipping up your lips.

“Ok.” Seungkwan starts, looking around to make sure nobody is eavesdropping. “SVT…SIGMA VETA THETA…Is an honorable fraternity.” He puts his hand over his heart, and you realize he has a flare for dramatics. (You choose to ignore the fact that ‘Veta’ is not a letter in the greek alphabet).

“and that remains true aside from some old weird shit.” Chan adds.

“we all have a matching shot glass.” Seungkwan butts back in. “Everyone gets it on their 21st birthday… and It does happen to have BTS on it.”

“Why is that a secret?” you ask. “Are you secretly ashamed to be a group full of little Kpop fanboys?” you giggle, pinching Chan in the side. He squirms playfully but doesn’t pull away from you.

“Oh I am quite loud and proud about the fact that I would fuck Hobi if given the chance!” Seungkwan states matter-of-factly.

Seungkwan is funny and you could now definitely see yourself attending another one of his parties.

“Ok so if not that, why?” You ask a bit more seriously.

“Well…” they both look at each other a bit awkwardly. “There’s… a weird tradition or like… lore with it that started way before any of us were actually here…” Seungkwan explains.

“It’s giving fraternity cult shit.” you determine. “I get it. spit it out.”

“Okay….” Chan concedes. “I want to clarify that I actually do like the glass and I did not mean to tell you about it or have you bring it up to Seungkwan.”

You just look at him with a lot of confusion.

“Basically, If a brother gives a girl a shot out of the glass around other brothers, it’s a signal that he’s trying to have sex with her. So it’s kind of a nonverbal sign for them to play wingman or whatever.” Chan rushes it out, seemingly a bit embarrassed of the whole idea.

“Additionally, if a girl talks about frat glass, it’s like a signal to all of the other brothers that she’s down to get laid.” Seungkwan finishes. “So like…maybe don’t talk about it to anyone unless you’re trying to fuck.”

You look up at chan and see a “deer in headlights” expression on his face.

“I urge to to forget you heard this and drink a nice calming shot of soju.” He mumbles.

“Oh I won’t be forgetting.” You announce rather boldly. “And I think I want my drink out of frat glass.” This earns a choked laugh from Seungkwan and Chan just gapes at you for a moment.

“You want frat glass?” He chokes out. “Like you wanna drink out of a bts shot glass because it’s silly? or you want … FRAT glass…” He asks, obviously trying to understand what you’re hinting at without actually ASKING.

“Well..” you tap your chin in a thinking pose and raise your eyes to the sky. “How about this. I want a drink out of frat glass, but my interest in it’s so called “lore” (you make air quotes) is yet to be discovered.”

Both boys laugh and Chan, hand still on your waist, guides you to the kitchen. You don’t see Mingyu on the way, but somehow it still feels right to have Chan’s arm around you, fingers occasionally playing with the hem of your shirt. You know it’s kind of mindless, but it sends little tingles through your skin. (What you were too nervous to say a moment ago was that if given the chance, you would so totally jump his bones).

Once you reach the kitchen, Seungkwan opens up a cabinet and finds the glass. He opens a cooler and finds some strawberry soju, quickly pouring you a shot.

“Y/N” he announces, handing it over with both hands, “You are now a trusted confidante of frat glass.”

you raise it above your head. “To my fantastic bias SUGA!” you down the drink with a cheer and seungkwan pours himself one too. “To Hobi!” He laughs, drinking the liquid. He pours you one more and you take it before leading Chan away into the sea of dancing people. You walk for a while, waiting until you see your ex, but you never do.

“What does this guy look like?” Chan asks, eyes scanning the crowd.

“He’s tall, brown hair, probably attached to a skinny little brunette.”

He scoffs, “sounds like half of the guys in here.”

“I never said I was creative.” you joke, continuing forwards.

“Y/N ” he hesitates, “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked nice earlier. He’s an idiot.”

Your face flushes a little and you feel the alcohol loosening your lips. “He IS an idiot. I was a good girlfriend.”

“Was he a good boyfriend…before the end?” He asks, nervous to be crossing a line.

You lift your gaze to the ceiling in thought. “Yeah. for almost a year. I think I knew it was ending a while before it happened but I was in denial about it. I tried to pretend I was imagining things. Avoiding the inevitable.

“I did the same things.” He pouts.

“Were you a good boyfriend?” You ask, trying to lift the mood a bit.

“I was a fantastic boyfriend. Flowers. Dinners. Mind blowing Sex.”

You laugh, appreciating his ability to release some of the weight from your thoughts.

“I tried everything I could to be what she wanted me to be. I still don’t know what changed.”

“Maybe the problem..for both of us” you motioned between your bodies, “wasn’t that we weren’t good enough…but maybe we were living a facade. We were trying to predict what they wanted us to be instead of just being ourselves.”

He nodded in contemplation.

“I think I’m glad I met you.”

You grin at him, falling into a comfortable silence for a few moments.

“You know” you finally speak up, “I still want to know why Seungkwan called you Dino.”

He blushes and stops walking, leaning his back against a hallway wall and pulling you towards him. His hands are now placed on either side of your hips. “It’s a stage name amongst the dance majors. I came up with it as a kid and it kind of stuck.”

You notice that his ears are a bit red, a sure sign of embarrassment. “Why did you choose it.”

“Because” he leans forward, “I wanted to dominate the stage like a dinosaur.”

“So you’re dominant… noted” you joke, nodding to your earlier conversation upstairs.

“I never said that” he smirks.

You can’t help but look at his lips now that you’re close to them. He notices and feels some of his own confidence resurfacing.

“but there is one way to test your theory.”

your heart is beating a million miles a minute as he pulls you a little closer, eyes dipping towards your mouth, hands non-moving from their place at your waist.

“I’m open to some experimenting.”

He smiles as you lean the last few inches forward, connecting your lips in a slow, lazy kiss. It’s deep and has your hands gripping at his shirt for some proof that this is real. He kisses you like he has all the time in the world, like he could do this all day, hands moving further onto the small your back until you’re being pulled flush against his body. He slowly trails them up your back -sparks following everywhere he touches- until they’re at your neck, where he wraps them around to that comfortable spot right under your ears, where your neck connects with your head. His hands fit perfectly, keeping your head stable while your tongues dance with each other. Your eyes are closed and you’re savoring the moment, ears ringing, drowning out the sounds of anyone else in the building. Right now, it’s just you and your new crush suspended in time.

You’re not completely sure what comes over you, but your hands slide under his shirt, appreciating the rippling abdominal muscles you’ve never seen but surely feel. You feel him shiver underneath your touch and it makes you smile, releasing a soft, breathy giggle into his mouth. He returns with one of his own and you both open your eyes, grinning at each other like kids in a candy store. Your eyes feel a little hazy, not from the alcohol, but from the bliss this man has somehow brought you in the span of two measly hours.

“Are you enjoying yourself” he bites his bottom lip, eyes flashing to where you’re not-so-subtly feeling him up.

“Oh yes. I just found out my date is kind of shredded.”

He laughs again, a sweet sound as his head falls backwards, eyes squinting shut.

You slide your hands back into your own space, only briefly before linking one with his and continuing down the rest of the hallway. “You can’t laugh about it because it’s true. My date is hot as fuck.” You’re practically dragging his dead weight (still laughing) as you round the corner, bumping directly into Soonyoung.

He steps back at the collision and raises his eyebrows when he sees you. “date?” he questions, eyes shifting to where you’re holding Chan’s hand. “Woah! You two know each other?”

“We didn’t, and now we do. Thanks for not answering your phone by the way.” You fold your arms and raise your eyebrows. You may be younger, but you two have a SASS heavy relationship and you can’t let him get off that easy after abandoning you.

“I was just coming to find you! Swear!”

You make an “mhm” noise that sounds anything like you believe him.

“I’m serious! I’ve got my keys, We can go now!”

“I actually think I’ll stay a little longer.” You reply, looking back towards Chan.

“I can take her home” he assures with a tight lipped smile.

“You sure?” Soonyoung hesitates. “I don’t think you want to go that way…” He throws a thumb over his shoulder, nonverbally indicating that’s probably where Mingyu is.

You look at Chan again, questioning him with your eyes. He nods and you look back towards your childhood friend.

“I’m done hiding from him.”

You pull your date past Soonyoung shouting a rushed “See you tomorrow” behind you as you stomp towards the stairs.

You enter the basement and quickly spot Mingyu in the corner, whispering to a girl…THE girl. You spin around so your back is facing him.

“See the guy directly behind me?” You ask and he subtly flicks his gaze towards where you’re directing him.

“Matches your description pretty well.” He bites the side of his cheek. “You weren’t kidding about tall.”

You shrug your shoulders. You were always kind of short for him anyway, never comfortably reaching his shoulders when you tried to dance at a party or pull him into a kiss.

“I guess so.” You dare to peek behind you once more before whispering “I didn’t really think this far ahead. I’m not sure what we’re supposed to do now.”

“I do” he replies, pulling you into a hug and swaying to the music playing over the stereo. “We could always continue where we left off” he whispers into your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “but only if you want to.”

You feel your lips curling upwards at the proposition and raise on your tip toes so you can whisper back. “You really want me to feel you up in front of all of these people?” you fall back to your normal height with a glimmer in your eye and he notices it.

“Oh you are tricky” he laughs, pulling you so that his back is against the wall like before. “Maybe just the first part though.” He whispers again, “We can save the other stuff for later.”

Your knees buckle at the insinuation and you wrap your right arm around his neck, left hand curling into his hair as you kiss him again. This kiss is a little bit more passionate. Lips chasing after each other as you arch your back ever so slightly, his strong arms keep you balanced for the 50th time this evening, and this time you notice his cologne. Some sort of Pine and Sandalwood blend. You let it fill your nose, all of your senses on overdrive. Your eyes are closed, and there’s a hint of strawberry flavor still lingering from your shots earlier. You allow yourself to appreciate the softness of his hair, the smooth strands sliding through your fingers with ease. You admire how soft his skin feels, and how respectfully he’s touching you. His hands roam freely but lightly, eventually finding purchase in your own hair. You’re grateful that you washed it today and added some leave in conditioner.

You’re not sure how long you kiss for, maybe a few minutes, could be hours. You really don’t care anymore. You feel like you could kiss Chan forever. He does eventually pull back though, brushing some hair out of your face and looking into your eyes. “You’re so pretty” he smiles, briefly glancing over your shoulder, “and not to make you nervous” he mumbles, “but that dude…. is definitely staring.”

Your heart flutters at the fact that he called you pretty…but your stomach has butterflies at the confirmed knowledge Mingyu is watching. Chan doesn’t really give you a chance to be worried though, because he pinches you in the side, a spot where you’re incredibly ticklish, and you squeal, slapping his hand away. He tries again on the other side but you’re quick enough to grab his wrist, twisting it until you’ve switched positions, your back against the wall with him caging you in. His palms are flat against either side of your head, and his body is perfectly blocking your view of anything (or anyone) else. It’s the perfect position for him to lean forward and continue kissing you.

You tilt your head upwards and he bites on your bottom lip softly, eliciting a sigh from you. Two can play that game, and you bite his lip right back, tongue immediately following to soothe the spot you nipped. He smiles, but doesn’t break away, he just kisses you with a grin. His hands slide into your back pockets and yours grip his shoulders, lightly squeezing at the muscles. Anyone with eyes could see that he had them. You’re sure you could feel more if he wasn’t wearing an oversized jacket, but making him take it off right now would feel a little TOO PDA for your liking. (You know…on top of the fact that you’re making out in a room full of people). The music is booming almost loud enough to bust the speaker but all you hear is white noise. You’re so infatuated with Chan.

You reach up to his neck and tilt his head just enough so you can whisper in his ear again. “Do you think he’s effectively jealous?” You pull back enough to look him in the eyes, still fighting the permanent smile on your face.

“I don’t know, should we go ask?” he teases, taking one step backwards.

“Over my dead body” you laugh, trying to keep him next to the wall.

“How about this.” He offers. Let’s go upstairs and see if he follows.

“Perfect plan. I’m ready for another drink anyways. You smile, backing towards the stairs and gasp when he picks you up bridal style. He carries you up and only sets you down when you’re back in the hallway.

“What a big, strong man you are, Chan.” you tease, grabbing his hand in yours.

“I have to admit” he replies, “That guy has muscles. I had to show off just a little.” He puts two fingers in front of your face mimicking the size of a penny.

“Oh my god you’re having fun right now” you pull him along, feeling a rush of adrenaline yourself.

“Like you aren’t” he counters, “Who wouldn’t want to make out with a hot dancer in front of their Ex. You’re like, super duper lucky to have found me.”

“You know what I would like even more?” You flirt, suddenly feeling brave.

“What’s that?”

“Making out with a hot dancer when we’re alone.”

He doesn’t even give you a second to react before his lips are meeting yours again. You feel like a high schooler all over again, sneaking around under the bleachers to kiss your first boyfriend…always wanting to be attached in some way. This time, you’re not in front of anyone so you do pull off his jacket, pulling away with a smirk on your face to put it on your own body.

“I couldn’t feel your muscles through this thing” you say, grabbing onto his shoulders again. His ears turn red again as he continues kissing you, arms flexing completely intentionally. You roll your eyes at the motion, but of course you don’t really mind. You kind of like it. A few minutes pass before you do actually need a breath, so you pull away and guide him through the hallway again.

“I vote one more drink, and then my apartment” you wink, noticing how his eyes scan your body wearing something of his.

He agrees in a nanosecond and follows you back into the main room by the couch. Jun and Minghao are still there, standing up as the game they were watching seemingly finished.

“Hey Y/N” Jun calls. “Did you find Soonyoung?”

“I found Chan” you say, motioning to him.

“I see” minghao bites his lips, noticing your flushed faces. “I assume you’re not leaving anymore?”

“Oh I am” you answer. “I just wanted another drink first.”

Your two friends give each other a knowing look before stepping to either side of Chan. Jun loops his arm around his shoulder and pokes him in the side. “Wanna tell us what this is all about” he prods, obviously teasing.

You fold your arms. “Minghao, can you pull your stinky ass brother off of my date?”

“A date you say?” He asks, looping his arm over your shoulder, mimicking Jun and messing up your hair, “My little friends finally met each other.”

You regret allowing Soonyoung to leave the party without dragging these two home with him.

“How come everyone at this party knew Chan other than me?” you gape, scrambling out of Minghao’s grasp.

“Probably because you live under a rock, my dear friend.” Jun quips.

“Whatever. I’ll be right back.” You shake your head side to side, chuckling as you leave the three boys behind, Chan being interrogated.

The kitchen is surprisingly empty, so you intend to quickly grab the soju and head back to your friends. Unfortunately you bump into a human wall in the door way.

The person you were looking for all night, but didn’t really want to see.

“Y/N” Mingyu blinks, “I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

You freeze on the spot, not sure what to say, not sure what to do. You just kind of stare at him, unmoving. You’re not sure how long you sat there, blinking like an idiot. (in reality it was probably like three seconds, but your brain completely short circuited the second you locked eyes with your previous lover).

“Here I am” you answer, voice cold. Your gaze shifts to the girl next to him. The girl he cheated with.

“You must be Ji-ah” you ask, tilting your head, feeling some of your brain cells rebooting.

She glares at you, but doesn’t confirm.

“I didn’t know you were coming either.” You admit, crossing your arms. “How have you been?”

You’re not sure why you asked that. You don’t really want to know…but that’s a normal thing to say when you haven’t seen someone in a while…so it just kind of came out.

“I’m fine. I miss you”

“Yeah. That’s unfortunate. “ you scoff. “Almost like I missed you when you went on a weekend golf trip..… oh wait!!! I think he was actually at your house.”

You point at Ji-ah, smiling a devilish grin. You feel some of the original anger bubbling up inside you in waves. It makes you feel a little better to see the look on her face when he admitted to missing you. Once a cheater, always a cheater.

Being alone with the two of them reminds you of all the hurt over the past few months. Reminds you of all the times you heard your friends telling you that you deserved better. Reminds you of the countless hours you spent in the gym or doing extra skincare because you just didn’t feel pretty enough. You finally realize, in this moment, that he just wasn’t worth any of it. You’re good enough, he just didn’t see it.

“But it doesn’t really matter anymore. I don’t miss you anymore.” You finally verbalize.

“Come on, that’s not fair…” Mingyu starts, and you hear Chan’s voice cutting him off.

“I think it is fair. Coming from someone who was in her same situation.” You turn to see him walking into the kitchen, hands in his pockets. Jun and Hao are following on his heels. They must have noticed Mingyu heading in this direction.

“Who the fuck are you” Mingyu questions, eyes narrowing in on where you instinctively grab his hand.

“None of your business anymore.” You answer, stepping backwards. “Come to think of it,” you sigh, looking at Chan, “I’ve had enough to drink.” You set the soju on the counter. “Can you still drive me.”

Chan nods, allowing you to pull him away.

“Did you really move on that fast?” Mingyu calls after you, stopping you dead in your tracks.

You whip around, feeling flames in your eyes. “It’s been three months Mingyu. You’re the one who moved on BEFORE THE RELATIONSHIP WAS EVEN OVER. What kind of fucking audacity do you have to say something like that!?”

You release your grip on Chan’s hand so you can stomp back, shoving Mingyu in the chest. Last time you saw each other, you didn’t get to say any of this. You were a crying, blubbering mess, begging him to explain. This time, you were just mad - And you were going to speak your mind.

“What did you want me to do? Did you want me to cry in the middle of the grocery store? Check. Did you want me to drink myself to sleep for two weeks straight? Congratulations. Were you hoping I’d obsessively stalk her instagram and compare our bodies?! Another winner. “ You gesture towards Ji-Ah.

You watch as his he clenches his jaw, clearly uncomfortable hearing how you handled the breakup.

“Did you want me to sit around and mope? I’m done with that. Of course I moved on.”

“I wasn’t implying you should stay sad..” He mumbles

“Sad is an understatement.” You point at Ji-ah again. “and I don’t know what you’re still doing with him.”

“Can we talk outside?” Mingyu asks, trying to grab your wrist.

You jerk away. “No. I’m sorry, is this embarrassing for you?” You motion to the 3 guys in the doorway. “is it a little awkward that they know you cheated?”

“Y/N. Calm down.”

“I’m calm. For the first time in a while, I don’t feel confused. I feel completely clear. I see that this relationship is long over, and I have no more intention to pine after it or repair it. I’ll see you around.”

You turn away, ready to be done with the conversation for real. You grab Chan’s hand again and he squeezes it in silent support as you head towards the front door.

You can’t really focus on much as you exit the house. Your heart is pounding really hard and you hear it beating in your ears. Your vision is blurred and You’re not sure if it’s the alcohol, or the realization hitting that you just went off on KIM MINGYU, President of the most popular frat (thankfully not Chan’s frat) in university, in front of several people. Maybe it’s a mixture of both. You don’t say anything else as Chan leads you down the long driveway and to his Black Porsche. At a different time, you might admire the fact that he has a Porsche, but right now you’re just ready to get out of here.

He opens the door for you, and you slide in, the cool leather causing you to shiver. You pull his jacket tighter around you and watch as he walks around to the driver’s side.

He slides in and turns the car on, but he doesn’t start driving. He just turns to you with a soft expression. “Are you okay?”

“Yes. I think so. Maybe.” You link your hands together, fidgeting with them. “I’m sorry that I dragged you into all of this.”

“Technically”, he corrects “I put myself right into the middle of this.”

“You rub your hands through your hair, and finally allow yourself to exhale. “Thank you. I’m not sure what I expected out of tonight, but I definitely didn’t mean to scream at my Ex boyfriend in front of you.”

He reaches over and pulls your hand out of your hair, holding it on the center console.

“I thought it was kind of hot.”

You bite your tongue in surprise. “Are you kidding? I actually sounded like a woman scorned.”

“Y/N” he tilts his head with a ‘come on, listen to what i’m saying’ expression. “I went through the same thing. All of those feelings you have…I had them too.”

You blink at him silently.

“Put it this way” He explains. “You know that moment when you’re reading a book or watching a movie and you know the story is building up to a blowout? You’re waiting for your favorite character to stand up for themselves and put the antagonist in their place?”

You nod, understanding his words with a bit of pride.

“That’s how your conversation felt to me. I felt proud of you for realizing your own worth and taking the power he holds over you away.”

“Thanks” you mutter.

He squeezes your hand again.

“And while I’m being honest” he adds, ‘Can I admit something?”

You nod

He stares at you with his deep brown eyes for a second before continuing.

“I know we just met. and I know it’s been a crazy night…but it’s actually been kind of the best date ever.”

You can’t help but hide your face in your hands and blush.

“Can I be honest too?” You peek back at him

“Please.”

“I really want you to come home with me.”

You see him smile with his eyes.

“Done.”

***

The drive home is quick, and kind of a blur. His hand finds its way to your thigh and you’re trying to give him directions but really all you can think about is the way his hair falls into his eyes in the dim lighting and what it might look like falling into his eyes over the top of you. A right turn here, a left turn there, a quick kiss at the red light. (you blushing after said kiss).

It’s hot how easily he parallel parks on the street and hot when he makes you wait for him to open your door. It makes you drool when he makes it a point to open his trunk, pulling out a pair of sweats that Seungkwan had returned to him earlier, saying “I’m sleeping over, right?” You obviously say yes and lead him towards your apartment.

You unlock the door and practically drag him inside, starting to feel impatient. You want to jump his bones immediately, but he’s a little more level headed. He takes off his shoes and looks around, taking in your space. Luckily you cleaned up today. He makes a basic comment about how girls decorate way better than guys and then (finally) after what feels like ages (it was like 30 seconds) he asks where your room is. You grab his hand and walk backwards, dragging him through your door and closing it behind you, despite the fact that you know you’re home alone.

You keep walking backwards until your knees hit the bed and you fall backwards onto the plush mattress. Chan follows, not letting go of your hands. He captures your lips with his before you’re even flat on your back and lifts your hands up near your head, linking your fingers together. His thumb draws little circles along your hand and you relish in the sweet touch compared with the weight. He’s basically pinning you to the comforter since he’s holding his own weight up with your clasped hands. Your kiss is just as deep and passionate as it was in that hallway. His lips are warm, and yours are burning with the lust. Both of you are breathing hot breaths into each other but you can’t be bothered to break away.

You kiss and kiss and kiss until his hands leave yours to roam elsewhere. He reaches inside his jacket (that you might just steal) to grasp your slender waist, a place he’s grown very fond of over the course of the evening. It’s fast, he knows, but he feels like he could hold onto your hips forever. He really likes the way you melt into him and the way you arch upwards when his hands plant there. He likes the way one of his knees is in between your legs, and the way you look down at it with a devilish smile. The way you not-so subtly rut into his thigh with your core….and wow he loves the way you bite back a little sigh of relief.

It’s amazing to you how much you’re enjoying just the little touches. The way you’re moving slowly but it still has your head spinning like a top. The way he tickles your waist just a bit and the way he playfully bites your lip. You’ve had plenty of hookups, plenty of sex that went from zero to one-hundred in two minutes tops. Chan is different. He’s appreciating you in the most modest way first. Working you up. He’s worshiping your lips and appreciating you with your clothes on. He’s in no rush, and you have a feeling he could keep you up all night.

“I like you in my jacket” he smiles, licking his lips “maybe you should keep it”

“I was already planning on it” you giggle, sitting upwards to slide it off. “better not ruin it.”

“Oh i didn’t finish” he grins, pulling your shirt up and over your head. “I think you should keep it on.” he leans down to whisper in your ear “but i think you should keep just the jacket on.”

You visibly shudder at the words. and at the feeling of his hot breath against your neck. He starts to kiss there, leaving a string of burning marks along your neck, working his way to your collarbone, dressed only in the thin strap of your bra at this point. His big hands reach up to unclasp the lacy material, pulling away for a short second to confirm “can i?”

“Please” you whimper, wanting his lips back on your skin immediately.

He unclasps the bra and slides it off of your shoulders…painfully slowly. He throws it over his shoulder, in the same direction as your shirt before admiring your bare chest. He looks at you like you’re the best dessert he’s ever ordered, and you feel your skin shiver at the way he looks up through his blonde bangs, locking eyes with you.

“You” he starts, pulling you upwards and forwards until you’re both facing each other on your knees, “are going to be the death of me.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping them straight so your elbows are resting on his shoulders and your chest is pulled tight against his clothed one.

“If you really feel that way” you nuzzle into his neck “you might as well die naked.”

His body reacts to your taunting faster than his brain does, and it’s merely a second until his shirt is discarded as well, abs glistening in the low lamplight of your room. You capture him in another kiss, appreciating how toned he is pressed against you. You allow your arms to curl into his hair for a while before rubbing them down his back, feeling his muscles twitch at the grazing of your touch. When they reach his waistband you allow them to move to his front, rubbing up the strong lines of his stomach. This flusters him just enough for you to flip your position, laying him flat against your pillows/headboard and straddling his lap.

You take a moment to pull away from the kiss, raising your hands up above your head in a stretch, teasing him a little. Chan’s jaw drops open as he gets a front row seat of your nipples, hard and perky right in front of him. He also notices the small tattoo on your ribcage of a diamond and reaches forward to touch it. You allow your head to fall back as he wraps his hands around your ribs, thumb staying over the tattoo. He leans forward and takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking and kissing it with so much desire.

“Chan” you sigh towards the ceiling, gripping at his hair again. “yes.”

You feel him harden underneath you at the gasp of his name, and you can’t help but rub against him. “you like it when I say your name, huh?”

He pulls away to appreciate your other nipple, mumbling a “so much” as he does so.

You continue looking upwards, eyes falling shut as he worships your sensitive nubs. You rut against him again and he bites the nipple, earning a little shriek from your lips.

“If you want my dick that badly, just ask, baby.” he says, tongue darting out to soothe your flesh.

Your hands tug at the ends of his hair where they connect with his neck, forcing him to look upwards and you lean over, mouth hovering just over his. “Ok, Dino.” you emphasize the nickname. “I want your dick. I want your dick so far up my pussy that it remembers the shape tomorrow.”

He bucks up into you, laughing as you involuntarily moan at the friction. “You can have it.”

He pulls at your jeans and you lift up, helping him slide them off. You have to sit back on his shins for a split second to get them over your ankles before you’re straddling him in only underwear.

He rolls you again so you are underneath him and he shucks off his jeans and underwear together in record speed. You’re expecting him to rip off your underwear and wreck you senseless, but instead he reaches his hands into your lacy covering and rubs in tight circles, kissing the spot in between your boobs as he does so. Your eyes roll back at the stimulation and you breath a soft “ oh god” to the sky.

“You can have it……” he repeats “later”

that’s all the warning you have before he’s plunging his middle finger into you. Your breathing picks up as he pumps it into you, still rubbing your clit with his thumb. Your body morphs into his, arching and girating against his single digit. you grab at your boobs to have something to hold onto, and bite your bottom lip. He curls his finger to just the right angle, snapping his wrist up, up, up.

“fuck” you moan “another chan, give me another.”

He pulls out just long enough to pull your underwear off, shoving it back in within seconds.

“good girl” he smirks, adding a second finger and leaning into your neck, sucking hard enough to form a hickey.

your mouth falls open and your breaths are loud, steady and mostly airy with a hint of moaning.

“Do you want to come more than once” he asks, trailing his kisses from your neck and up to the sensitive spot behind your ear. “I could eat you out. edge you. fuck you into the wall. what do you want baby?”

“so…ohhhhh” you moan loudly when a third finger enters your vagina, “so generous fuckkkk”

he relishes in the fact that his fingers feel so good you can’t even answer his question. He continues plunging in and out, the loud squelch of your wetness making him harder each second.

“Wall Channie. Dick. wall. standing up, oh god.” you groan. “but after. I want this longer.” Your hips jerk upward in confirmation that you want him just like this.

“Anything for you, princess.” he shifts his body down, settling his head in between your legs. You’re already close with the three digits working you, but it’s borderline euphoric when he licks a stripe up your folds, moaning with intense vibrations against your cunt. His second hand takes over rubbing circles against your clitoris and his tongue starts go dip into your hole alongside the fingers, stiffened and quick. You can’t help but clench your teeth, realizing that this is the best head you’ve ever had. You’re mumbling absolute nonsense like “god, oh god keep going” and “just like that, just like that.” You’re pathetic for him. A writhing whimpering mess. His lips latch around your clit and he sucks on it, sending mind numbing shockwaves through your entire pussy and up your back.

“So good” he mumbles into you, picking up the pace even quicker. How that’s even possible, you’re not sure. You’re too incoherent to notice how he’s humping the bed in time with the pace you’re humping his face. He’s so turned on by you - the sounds you’re making, that he’s feeling desperate for some sort of release. He needs you to finish so he can take a moment to cool himself down.

He continues working you with his hands, lifting his face to your neck. he bites at your flesh and nibbles on your ear. “come for me.” he moans directly into you, hot breath sending shivers through your body. You feel a burning, bubbling sensation in your gut and know you’re close.

“yes sir” you choke out as the orgasm hits you. hard. You’re seeing white. Seeing stars and reaching out to grab his shoulder, something to steady you while you float into oblivion. Your legs are shaking and he keeps his fingers inside, working you through it, feeling the way you pulse around him…wishing it was already his dick being squeezed and milked. Wishes he could fill you up and test how your pussy reacts.

You’re moaning his name. Chanting it like a prayer. He feels dizzy just hearing it. “Chan, oh my god Chan.” He loves it. You slowly start to feel the world come back and you squeeze your legs shut, pinning his hand. You’re reaching overstimulation territory and he understands, using his knee to push yours open just enough to pull his fingers out of you, sucking them into his mouth, licking your juices off of them. He then grabs onto your side again, leaning forward for another kiss. You taste yourself on his lips and smile when he shares, voice gravely, “I could hear you moan my name every day.”

“Chan” you whimper into his mouth “Chan with magic fingers.”

He shivers against you and you pull him into a hug, closing your eyes. You feel his hard-on against your stomach and smile. “give me 60 seconds” you instruct “and then I expect you to rail me against the wall.”

He slides his hand upwards, cupping the side of your breast, wordlessly agreeing with another kiss to your neck. You lay there, appreciating the way he’s still exploring your body while you rest. The little tickles along your skin feel like fireworks despite the fact you just orgasmed harder than any man’s fingers or face have ever made you come.

“On one condition” he finally says (after a bit longer than the 60 seconds).

“hmm” you mumble, eyes still closed.

He flips you onto your stomach wordlessly, surprising you with his warm hands pressing you down. He rubs his cock through your wet folds from above you and groans, both hands rubbing along your back. “such a pretty back” he notes, touching your second tattoo of a flower. He leans down to kiss it before mumbling. “Too bad i’ll need to cover this up.” You’re only confused for a moment before he’s leaning across the bed to his jacket, sliding it on your otherwise naked form. You weakly move your arms, helping him slide it on with a smile. “I told you I wanted to fuck you in this” he says, getting off of you so he can pull you to a standing position next to the bed.

You turn to face him with rosy cheeks and grin at his puffy lips and messed up hair. You’re sure that you probably look twice as fucked out, and can’t help but glance to the mirror in the corner to check. He steps around you, hands wrapping around in a back hug, staring into the mirror too. “Do you see how sexy it is?” He asks, pulling it open enough so your tits are exposed. You lean back into him, sliding your hands up so they’re circling your nipples. You smirk at him through the reflection, licking your lips and tilting your head.

“I could get used to this.”

He kisses behind your ear, sliding his hand down into your…his pocket, coming out with a condom in his hand. You giggle. “has that been in there all night?”

“No. I stole it from a bowl in Seungkwan’s entryway on our way out the door. I slipped it in the pocket without you noticing.” he laughs bringing the package up to his teeth. You stop him before he can rip it open. “We don’t need it…as long as you’re clean…” you look up shyly.

His eyes widen…and darken at the same time. “You’re sure?” he confirms.

You nod, pulling the wrapper from his hand and sliding it back into the jacket pocket. “IUD…I want to feel you..completely.”

He pulls you backwards with a grin until he’s leaning against the wall, kissing you again for a few moments before trailing two fingers down your body. Starting at your neck and wandering across your collarbone, in between your breasts and down your abdomen. You’re sensitive to his touch but don’t want him to stop. You sigh as his fingers reach your nub, rubbing small circles before slipping back inside you, scissoring to stretch you out. Fingers still inside, he turns you so your back is the one against the wall, and he lifts your leg around his hip. He pulls his fingers out after deciding you’re thoroughly sloppy and wet and stretched from before. You don’t really need more prep, and if you’re honest, you don’t want any more. You just want him. Inside you. Now.

You pull his hair and tilt his head so you’re cheek to cheek, arching your chest into his again. “Please, Channie. I’m ready.”

He gets the hint, and he’s feeling pretty insatiable himself, so he lines himself up with your hole and slides home, slowly. His dick is the perfect size. It’s big and long, but slender enough to feel good and not painful. He gives you a second to nod once he bottoms out and then he’s moving. He pulls about 3/4 of the way out before ramming into you again, hitting your G-Spot with extreme accuracy. You almost choke on the realization. One thrust and he’s found your perfect angle.

“right there” you almost scream. “holy fuck.”

He picks up the pace, setting a rhythm and gripping you for balance. He’s holding your left leg up around his hip and grasping your waist with the other. You have one hand on his shoulder to steady you and the other reaches behind you, above your head, bent elbow and palm flat to the wall. You match his pace with your own hips, rolling into him each time he pushes inwards.

in, out, in out, he’s pounding hard. almost completely leaving you before ramming in, again, again, again.

You look sideways, catching a perfect view of your position in the mirror. You admire the way his thigh muscles tense as he pushes forwards and enjoy the feeling of his hot breath on your neck. You’ve always appreciated a vocal partner, but something about just the sounds of his hitched breathing is more than enough. You know you’re getting close again, which is just not acceptable. You want this…no…you NEED this to last longer. You can feel his thrusts becoming more erratic too and know he must be getting close as well. “fuck chan” you moan, trying to gather your thoughts amidst the ecstasy. “hitting my spot way too good”

“yeah?” he groans into your neck, “you like it baby?”

“I like it so much” you pinch into the skin of his shoulder, leaving nail marks. “Please, please.. god… oh my god.. let me ride you” you get out, brain hazy and sentence choppy.

you feel him twitch at the request and he slows down his pounding so that he can lift your other leg up, you instinctively wrap it around his other hip in a koala hug. He carries you back to the bed and pulls out, eliciting a pout from you. He lets out a low, sexy chuckle at the whine. “You’re the one who wanted to switch positions.”

He’s not wrong.

You reach forward to touch him and he surprises you by giving you his dick instead of his full body. You wrap your fingers around it, just barely unable to close around the thickness. You stroke him and watch as his head dips forward, mouth hanging open. You would love it in your mouth, can feel yourself salivating over the thought but you just had him inside you up against a wall and you can’t go backwards from that feeling. You need him back inside you asap. He seems to agree because he’s soon kneeling over you, straddling you and thrusting his hard cock into your grip. “You can help me finish like this” he groans, basically using your hand as a fuck toy. “or you can bounce on it. But either way I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You release your grip and push him to the side. He rolls onto his back and scoots upwards on the bed, freeing up room for you to kneel over him, mimicking his straddle from before. You line up again and drop your body weight onto his throbbing member, feeling immediately deeper than before. Even better. His hands reach their favorite spot of the evening - your hips - and yours are on his chest, pushing him deep enough to leave an imprint on your mattress. Not that you’d mind. his hips are wildly jerking up into you and you eat up the way his skin is bumping against your clit.

His skin underneath you is hot, and his eyes are burning into the spot where your intimate parts meet. He’s in heaven. His hands move from their place to rest on top of yours on his chest. He links your fingers together and lifts his arms above his head, pulling you forward to hit a different angle. you squeak at the surprise fall and he smiles at how your lips are now close enough to kiss. He can’t really kiss you with how close he is though. He more so just breathes into your open mouth, an occasional grunt coming out.

“Where do you want it” he finally asks, as your bouncing becomes faster and his hips thrust even harder. “You have like 3 seconds to decide.”

You nonverbally answer for him when you pull off of his dick and shove it into your mouth, just in time for his release. His eyes grow wide as he realizes what you’re doing. You stroke his cock through the orgasm, choking slightly on the white strings of cum shooting down your throat. But you take it like a champ. You swallow all you can and pull off with a loud popping sound, wiping at the mess on your chin. He looks more surprised than any man before when you’ve done this and you smile, Moving back up to sit on his thighs.

“that” he starts, mouth wide “was the hottest fucking thing anyone has ever done.”

You just smile at him and crawl back up to collapse by his side. You expected that to be the end of things but Chan is observant enough to realize that through his mind blowing orgasm, you still didn’t finish again. and Chan ALWAYS makes sure his girl comes more than once.

His fingers are inside of you again without another word and you’re still so worked up that he starts with three at once. You’re laying on your side next to him, slowly turning onto your back with each flick of his wrist so that he can properly help you finish.

You moan as he nips at your nipple, grinding into his hand faster. “I’m almost there” you breathe, arching your back. “keep going, keep going, faster.” He listens and speeds up just enough for you to feel that bubbly, euphoric explosion inside.

Your legs pinch closed as he helps you ride out the orgasm, and he has to nudge one again with his elbow in order to get his hand out, licking his fingers once he does so.

You lay there for a moment, curling up into his side as if you were always meant to be there. Your bodies fit so perfectly together, like the pieces of a puzzle made by fate. How else were you to end up in this situation? You can’t help but contemplate in the afterglow about how lucky you were to run into him tonight. About how this evening could have gone so disastrously wrong, but he made sure it went so right.

—

The clean up process was cute. Domestic. Chan carried you to the bathroom on his back and warmed up the shower before stepping in with you, rubbing soap up and down your body in a soothing way. He didn’t try to initiate anything else for the night, he just softly kissed your shoulder once or twice, massaged out a knot in your neck and admired how your body reacted to his soft touches.

After deciding you were both properly clean, and after changing the sheets, you’re cuddled up in bed with sleep on the horizon. You’re on your sides, your back tucked into his chest and his arms wrapped around you. He’s lazily drawing circles on one of your arms when he speaks up.

“Y/N?” his voice is gravely and tired, somewhere in a halfway state between awake and asleep.

“Yes?” you mumble, eyes still closed.

“Will you go on another date with me tomorrow?’

You smile and nuzzle further back into him. “I would love that.”

“Good.” he shares. “and I’m going to make you breakfast.”

“Does that count as another date? Or is it part of this one?” you counter.

“That’s part of this one.” He concludes. “The other date is a surprise.”

You blush a little. It’s sweet that he’s already making plans to spend more time with you.

His hand moves from your arm to your hand and he rests his fingers over yours.

“you really are so pretty..”

and that’s the last thing you really remember before a comfortable sleep overtakes both of you. And you dream about all of the possibilities tomorrow entails.

And in your sleep you realize that maybe running away from Mingyu at that frat party was the best thing that ever happened to you….

****

[livwritesstuff]

If you need incentive to write the 04 scene of Steve’s mom meeting Eddie, Moe, and Robbie, this is it. The image of Steve stepping in front of them??????? Astounding and I am all but begging you to share what was said — if, of course, you feel the inspiration and need that extra push to write it :)

truly anything for you

tbh this is basically an extension of the last part of this

“–Also, my mom is here.”

“What?” Eddie yelps, which, yeah, fair enough, all things considered. Steve’s been estranged from his parents for over a decade now, so it’s only natural for Eddie to be completely shocked finding out that his mom is here, in their home. 

“Well…y’know, I invited them,” Steve replies as he shifts the way he’s holding their eight-month-old daughter Robbie. 

It’s true – he had invited his parents to the party that he and Eddie are throwing today to celebrate…they’re celebrating a lot of shit, actually, because they’d had a pretty wild few months, but he’s invited them to all the important things over the years.

Before Eddie can respond, Moe wanders over and tugs on the hem of Eddie’s shirt as she says, “Daddy, look at ‘dis, Auntie Robin put a flower in my hair.”

“I mean yeah, duh, Steve,” Eddie finally says as he absently picks up Moe (being mindful of the daisy tucked behind her ear, of course), “I mean, you always…Steve, she’s here?”

“Yeah, she-uh, I dunno. She showed up. We – I sorta yelled at her, I think…”

Steve trails off as his eye catches on a familiar figure hovering by the front door – his mom, he knows, even with her back to him. She must feel his eyes on her, because she turns in their direction, and by then Eddie had realized that something was pulling Steve’s attention so he’s turning too, and then Steve’s mom and Eddie are standing face to face, and alarm bells are going off inside Steve’s head that he can’t really explain, but before he can dwell on it, he finds himself slipping into an old tendency to just blindly act, to protect the people he loves before all else. 

Steve takes a step forward.

Where before he’d been standing in line with Eddie, Steve steps forward, meets his mother with a steady gaze as he puts himself between her and his family.

His mother isn’t blind to this. Steve can see on her face the way she recognizes that step forward for what it was, because he’s got one foot planted firmly between Eddie’s own, and his shoulder is blocking Moe from view completely, and he’s angling himself in a way directs Robbie away too even if doing so hadn’t been a conscious decision, because it all makes crystal clear the kind of threat that Steve perceives his mom to be.

She blinks at him, lips slightly parted, and for a moment Steve finds himself feeling a little bad for her – but only for a moment, because she made her choices just like Steve’s father did, and now they all have to live with them.

Steve lives with those choices every day by being the parent he had needed as a child, and right now that means standing between the parents he did have and the family he has now

“Steve, I–” his mom starts, “I need to be going, but…I’d like to be introduced to your…if you’ll let me.”

She’s looking at Robbie (trying to, anyway), and it makes Steve wonder if she’d even be here today if he hadn’t sent his mother a card back in the spring of ‘02 announcing the adoption of Moe, if he hadn’t spent the years since then sending her updates about his kids. She wonders if she would have shown up at all if it was just him and Eddie.

Steve loves his kids with a kind of love he had never experienced before, but the same is true for Eddie. Sure, it’s a different kind of love, but no less big and no less important. There’s no way in hell Steve will be allowing his mother to pick and choose which parts of his life she gets to participate in. If she wants to know the girls, she goes through Eddie first. Non-negotiable.

Before Steve can say as much, Eddie adjusts his hold on Moe (still keeping her behind Steve, he notices) to free up a hand and hold it outstretched.

“Ed,” he says, and he follows it with, “Steve’s husband,” and Steve can hear the shit-eating grin on Eddie’s face without even needing to look, and he knows that he’s smiling too because he always does when Eddie calls himself Steve’s husband. Then he adds, “Can’t believe we’ve gone this long without an introduction.”

Steve’s mother introduces herself and shakes his hand (though she doesn’t seem to have anything to say to his second comment, Steve notes).

Satisfied (because, frankly, Steve couldn’t really have asked for anything more, all things considered), he finally shifts to the side to introduce his daughters.

“This is Moe,” he says, “Wanna say hi, Moe?”

But Moe has suddenly gone uncharacteristically shy (or maybe she senses the tension and is wisely choosing the side that’s kept her snuggled and fed her entire life – she’s smart like that), tucking her face away in the safety of Eddie’s shoulder. 

Steve watches as Eddie murmurs something in her ear, watches Moe nod even as her little arms twine a little tighter around his neck.

She raises her head and gives a cautious, “Hi,” (with maybe a bit more side-eye than necessary, but…whatever. Moe is who she is).

“Hello,” his mom replies, with a kind of smile on her face that Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen before (a real smile, maybe, but he won’t dwell on that). She gives Robbie a little wave, “And who’s this?”

“This is Robbie,” Steve says, running a hand over her curls, “Can you say hi, Beans?”

Robbie only blinks her big blue eyes, one of her little hands clenched around a bit of Steve’s hair at the nape of his neck.

“How ‘bout a wave?” he suggests, mimicking a wave for his youngest daughter, who parrots the motion in his mom’s direction.

“How old is she, again?” she asks as Steve presses a kiss onto Robbie’s chubby cheek. He knows he already told his mother this but, in fairness, it certainly wasn’t the most memorable part of their contentious conversation not too long earlier.

“Eight months last week,” Eddie answers proudly. He looks at Moe again, “And how old are you, bug? Are you…” he pauses, pretending to think. He looks at Steve, “I think she’s only two, right?”

“Oh, definitely,” Steve nods, pretending to be serious, “Definitely two more than anything else.”

“No-o, I’m more three!” she argues, her little brow furrowing (Steve knew it would – with Moe’s third birthday only a few weeks away, they’ve had many a conversation about how Moe thinks she deserves three-year-old privileges because she’s “more three than two”).

“That’s right, you turn three soon,” Eddie nods, “And we’re gonna throw a…what kind of party?”

“A butterfly party,” Moe finishes.

Steve looks back at his mom.

“You’re welcome to come, you know,” he says, and beside him, Eddie shifts a bit closer, his shoe nudging up against Steve’s, “Y’know, if you’re around. I can send you the info.”

He already sent it. He knows he already sent it, but if this is his mom’s way of extending her own olive branch, of taking the first steps in restoring the relationship with her son, he’ll send it again.

“Sure,” she replies, running a manicured hand through her hair, “We’ll…well, you know your father and his schedule – I’d thought he would have considered retiring by now but…” she pauses, then shakes her head, “Yes, I’d like the details.”

Steve nods, makes a mental note to send his mom the information (because, despite his defensiveness, he really does want her to be a part of his life, his kids’ and husband’s lives too).

She takes her leave only a minute or two later, and when she does, Eddie turns to face him.

“Holy shit, Steve,” he says, wide-eyed.

“I know,” he replies, slowly shaking his head.

“Dude, that was crazy, and we’re definitely gonna have to debrief on whatever the hell you guys talked about earlier, but can I just say you got so fuckin’ lucky that Robin didn’t realize she was here.”

Before Steve can respond, he hears an ominous voice behind him say, “Robin didn’t realize who was here?"

[skyloftian-nutcase]

(@kikker-oma yelled at me to stop hiding my Imprisoning War writing because I didn’t want to dump it all on y’all but she’s right, my blog my rules LOL)

Ganondorf watched his daughter as she slept.

He wasn’t often… reflective. Not in this manner, at least. He was a man of action, always looking forward, wanting to accomplish the next thing, obtain more, do more. In a desert where he had been looked to for guidance and leadership, where resources had been scarce and one had to constantly be on the move to survive, Ganondorf had learned that periods of reflection should be kept to the periphery, and sentimentality was hardly useful.

Yet here he was, watching his little girl sleep, thinking about how she’d grown so much.

He wanted his children to become strong and independent. He did. They were reflections of himself, of their mother, and he was proud of the people they were growing into. They served him well and learned well. They… they were growing up.

Tomorrow was his twins’ fifteenth birthday, and he didn’t know how to feel about it.

He remembered when they were babies, how small and delicate and helpless they were. He remembered being excited, looking forward to the days that they could fight, that they could understand how the world worked and seek power for themselves. But now that they were approaching that point, he suddenly found himself missing the nights where he’d just walk back and forth on the balcony with them in his arms.

Ganondorf had never really tolerated weakness. It got people killed. It was useless to him. Babies couldn’t help such weaknesses, but it made them not really a concern to him. Yet when he’d had his children, their weakness had called to him, compelled him to do everything he could to protect them. And now… he found himself missing those nights.

What was wrong with him?

“How are they growing up so fast?”

Glancing beside him, Ganondorf saw his wife, Nabooru, also watching Hemisi. He didn’t comment; he didn’t know how time had flown by either.

It was not a new feeling either. It was growing concerning, honestly, how often he fell back to this nostalgia sometimes. He remembered when the twins turned ten, he had nearly had a meltdown just thinking about it.

Having children certainly did make him softer than he used to be. But… he supposed that wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Soft wasn’t… wasn’t always weak.

“I practically got kicked out of Merovar’s room,” Nabooru sighed, amusement mixing wistfully with sadness. “He said I was fussing too much.”

“He shouldn’t do that,” Ganondorf immediately said, frowning. Merovar shouldn’t be disrespectful to his mother.

“He’s probably right,” Nabooru lamented. “I miss when they were babies. I felt far more useful to them back then.”

Perhaps that was the issue. Perhaps Ganondorf felt useless for his children. But that wasn’t the case. They still had much to learn, and obtaining the Triforce would benefit them greatly.

“They still need us,” Ganondorf noted gently.

“Not for long, they won’t,” Nabooru replied. “If we’re any good at our job, at least.”

Ganondorf sighed, looking back at Hemisi. Was this the fate of all parents? To make themselves obsolete to their children? To miss the days they were needed, like the elders he recalled from his youth, too broken to fight but too stubborn to die? He recalled some said he should seek their wisdom, but what wisdom could failed warriors provide him?

Perhaps he should have sought them out. Perhaps they knew of this heartache.

What a night. He hated feeling like this. Closing his eyes, he purposefully pushed the image of his children out of his mind, hand brushing against Nabooru. “Best not to linger on it.”

His wife chuckled, turning with him as the couple walked away. “No, I suppose not. You’re really not comfortable with thinking about such things, I know. But it’s okay to dwell on the matter, to hurt.”

Now he just rolled his eyes. “Stop being sentimental. You know I hate that.”

“You love everything about me,” Nabooru insisted with a sly smile, bumping him with her hip. “And you could learn a thing or two about sentimentality. Though it seems you have – I saw you playing with the boy during the festival, after all.”

Ganondorf didn’t bother defending himself anymore. Link had wormed his way into the man’s heart well enough. For now, at least, while everything was at peace.

“It’s cold,” he said, deflecting instead. “Let’s get to bed.”

Nabooru moved to stand in front of him. “Not unless you admit it.”

He didn’t want to get into this, but he never really did. And his wife wouldn’t let him avoid it. She never backed down from a fight. It was one of the things he loved about her.

But Ganondorf loved to fight too.

“Sentimentality only weakens resolve,” he tried first, crossing his arms.

“The strongest souls have the kindest hearts,” Nabooru fired back easily. “You think I’m weak? I can love just as well as anyone.”

“You know when to turn that off.”

“I never said you should always be sentimental. I just said such emotions in themselves are not bad.”

Ganondorf tried for a counterattack, and found himself biting the inside of his cheek in annoyance instead. Sighing heavily, he relented for now. “Fine. I miss when they were little.”

Smiling triumphantly, Nabooru leaned forward to kiss him briefly and then pulled him into their room. Despite her victory (how did she almost always win against him, anyway?), she still looked sad.

Ganondorf pulled her into an embrace. “You’re forgetting something important, my dear.”

His wife melted into the hug, closing her eyes and taking a slow, relaxing breath, humming for him to continue.

“I’m stronger than all of you,” he noted with a smug smirk. “So they’ll always need me.”

Nabooru’s relaxed posture immediately stiffened as she laughed at the challenge, pushing him off and walking towards the bed. “Try me, oh mighty warrior. I’ve defeated you before.”

Smirking, Ganondorf followed his wife to bed.

[skelswritingcorner]

A Body So Stubborn (Mercenary! Reader fic Pt. 3)

Barely winning against making the TFP bots learn about the horrors of endometriosis, it's the 3rd part to my First Contact AU fic (though it barely feels like one anymore). I ended up splitting this into two parts because this is like 5 pages in the Google Doc.

Warnings/Tags: Injuries, blood, hospitals, mentions of unethical experiments, Megatron experiencing remorse for something he had no actual involvement in, mentions of dead parental figures, Prowl shows up I guess

Word Count: 2050

The third part is finally here! I was going to draw something for it, but I'm currently working on my 2.0 model (Vtubing stuff) so I pushed that off to the side.

“So,” the Cybertronian on the screen tilted his head, “you found a human in a solar system that, as far as our knowledge, has no humans on it?”

“Until now,” Ultra Magnus replied, “according to the files, she was brought to this place at eighteen months old, therefore her connection to her species is nonexistent. She appears to be the only human who’s lived here for any large period of time.”

“There are, however, a group of humans currently on the local planet right now. According to Skids, they’re here to help establish an interspecies alliance. Along with that,” Ultra Magnus showed his datapad; two similar human women on the screen were shown in separate images, “one of the humans of the group appears to have a strong physical resemblance to the one we found. Not only that, she claims that her sister was abducted at eighteen months old twenty years ago.”

“Interesting,” his blue optics flickered, “it’s too similar a connection to be a coincidence. Is Ailith on the Lost Light? I’d like to see her condition for myself.”

“First Aid brought her to the clinic her ship’s coordinates were originally at, Prowl. Once she’s back, I’ll contact you again.”

“Very well. Goodbye for now.” The video feed of the officer ended, and Ultra Magnus sighed. Did he expect to have a human on board the Lost Light? Not at all. However, this is an injured human, and as he was the one who realized that there was an injured organic on board, he felt the slightest feeling of responsibility over her despite never actually seeing her in person.

Ultra Magnus walked out of the communication room, seeing the Co-Captains talking amongst themselves. Once they noticed the officer, they turned to him.

“What did Prowl say?” Megatron asked.

“He’s not sure about how and why a human would be here prior to any intergalactic relations being established. He also wanted to see her for himself, but she’s at the clinic right now. That, and I don’t know how she’d feel around him of all ‘Bots.”

Rodimus laughed. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, as long as we tell her first. It’s not like Ailith can fight in her current state.”

“I doubt that, Captain.” Magnus rebutted, “She’s adapted quickly to her current situation. Too quickly, if you ask me. Along with that, the planet she lives on has weapons designed to defeat Cybertronians. I’m confident that she has at least one weapon in her arsenal that she can use to defeat us if she truly wants to.”

“I know about those weapons.” Megatron said, Rodimus slowly turning with a horrified look. “I remember sending a team to this planet some thirty years prior because of potential energon deposits. The people used the remains of one of the ‘Cons I sent to reverse engineer weapons and other equipment that gave them an advantage. In fact, this might be the cause of Ailith’s subspaces as well. They could’ve tried creating subspaces, and tried to implement them on organic creatures. Including those from Earth.”

“Are you implying that it might be your fault for what happened to Ailith?” Rodimus asked.

“Who else could be to blame?”

“Let’s not dwell on that for too long, Captains.” Ultra Magnus looked at the datapad, “You didn’t know about the experiments until now, correct? Then it’s likely she doesn’t know either. First Aid said that Ailith’s been cleared to return to the Lost Light for recovery, so when she comes back you can ask her.”

“Do we have instructions on what to do?” Megatron asked.

“According to First Aid, it’s best to keep her from doing anything too strenuous. This includes training and combat. Along with that, she can only walk short distances. Her stitches are to remain for fourteen cycles total. Two cycles have passed, so that makes it twelve. As long as she doesn’t strain herself too much, she’ll be alright.” Magnus informed them.

“But who should she be with while she’s recovering? She’s smaller than Tailgate, literally half his height!” Rodimus asked.

“First Aid’s been taking care of her all this time, correct? Why not make a temporary space in his habsuite for her so he can make sure she’s recovering without complications?” Megatron suggested.

“That makes sense. As he’s one of the medics, he can treat her quickly if she gets injured.” Ultra Magnus agreed. “According to Drift and Ratchet, he’s been non-stop worrying over Ailith. It should be reassuring to him if she’s nearby.”

“Hmm…” Rodimus frowned, “Fine. Tell First Aid, and ask Skids and Velocity to get some stuff for her before we get back, I doubt we have anything right now to make sure she can have a smooth recovery.”

“I already asked them, Rodimus. They should be gathering some items right now with the help of someone that might be Ailith’s twin sister.”

“Great! I’m going to talk to Ratchet now. We’ll talk again later.” Rodimus turned on his heel and left the other two mechs standing there.

✩✩✩

The cycle in the hospital came and went. And now, you need to return to the Lost Light for the rest of your recovery. You would’ve protested if it wasn’t Aunt Daule who said that. Instead, you just sighed.

“So, I'm going to spend twenty or more days with them as I recover?” you asked.

Aunt Daule nodded. You understood that the clinic was pretty busy, so if they could they would have anyone who can recover outside the clinic so they can have space for those whose conditions are more severe, they would.

“Welp,” you slapped your knees, “I guess I’ll be stuck with that lot for a while. I’m fine with that though, I need to learn more about them in case I need to defeat a Cybertronian.”

Daule chuckled. “You talk just like your guardian. I remember hearing her many exploits back when they tried to take over our planet and failed, mostly when she charged in without hesitation. She’d use her magnetic grappling hook and a blade, get close to an exposed cable and slice it open. I’m glad to see you’ve inherited her fighting spirit.”

Both faces went solemn. Such goes the usual conversations whenever anyone brings up your first guardian. “It’s been almost five years, hasn’t it? Thirty-five more days until the anniversary.”

“Do you plan on going to her memorial?” you asked.

“Of course. I am, after all, Salva’s sister. It wouldn’t make sense for me to not visit the grave of a family member once in a while.” Aunt Daule answered.

“But that’s in more than a month. For now,” Aunt Daule patted your head, “make sure to focus on recovering. No straining yourself, alright?”

You nodded, and with your aunt’s arms as support you walked to the waiting room. You made sure to hold onto the box Makayla gifted you.

First Aid was already there, along with Tailgate. You walked to them, albeit with a slight limp.

“What are you holding?” Tailgate asked.

“It’s something from her sister.” First Aid answered for you.

“Did you meet her?” he asked again.

“She only came to drop off an injured friend the cycle before First Aid brought Ailith here.” Aunt Daule replied, “We did genetic testing, and they’re almost completely identical. After the testing she gave me the box Ailith is holding right now.”

Tailgate seemed fascinated. Do cybertronians have siblings, or is that an unfamiliar concept to them?

“Regardless of that, here,” Daule gave First Aid a document, “these are the instructions that should help with assisting Ailith in her recovery. She has a copy too, stored in her subspace.”

You nodded at what Aunt Daule said.

“We’ll return in twelve cycles, Dr. Daule!” First Aid said, picking you up. At this point, you’re used to being held by him. Aunt Daule waved, and the three of you departed.

Entering the pod, First Aid set you in a place that was relatively stable for you to sit down. While he piloted the pod back, Tailgate looked over at you.

“What’s in that box? You’ve been holding onto it this whole time.” he asked.

“Stuff from my twin that she asked Aunt Daule to give me. There’s a few pictures, including one of my niece who I just found out exists.” you replied, “Other than that, there’s some clothes.”

Tailgate tilted his head. “A niece?”

“The daughter of a sibling. In my case, my niece is the daughter of my older sister, Chloe MacArthur. I’m not sure if Cybertronians know about the concept of siblings, though.”

“Ooooooh,” Tailgate nodded, “sometimes sparks split in two. That’s the closest we have to siblings. Those are almost identical though.”

So, they sometimes have twins. Identical twins, just like you and Makayla.

“When we get back, I’ll show you the pictures.” you promised.

The pod slowed to a stop, and the door opened. Ratchet and… a cyan Cybertronian? He had red eyes and accents. His helmet was black, with two horn-adjacent finials extending out from the sides.

“Fortress Maximus,” First Aid exclaimed, “I’m surprised that you’re here!” He picked you up as well, placing you on the Cybertronian equivalent of his right shoulder blade before walking up to the two larger mechs.

“You must be Ailith,” the cyan mech put a hand over his chest, “I’m Fortress Maximus. The others informed me of your condition. I’m surprised you even survived the injuries Ratchet informed me that you have.”

You shrugged, “Eh. I’ve been operated on without painkillers and fully conscious. A few slashes and bullets aren’t that bad.”

Oops, you overshared. Fortress Maximus AND Ratchet are looking at you in horror. First Aid tensed up.

“Out of all things you could’ve said… Wait, you were fully conscious? Wouldn’t that hurt?”

Fuck it. You did this to yourself, nothing to hide now. “No shit it hurt! I still have the memory of seeing my intestines on hooks while they put that thing inside me, and when they put the subspaces on my body. As they did for all the other experiments.”

“That’s horrible!” If Cybertronians could cry, Tailgate would be doing that right now. “I can’t believe that anyone would do that, especially to a child!”

“Anyway,” Ratchet spoke before anyone could say anything, “First Aid, the captains assigned her to your habsuite so her recovery can be monitored closely. Skids and Velocity acquired some items to make sure Ailith’s comfortable.”

First Aid nodded, “I’ll bring her to my habsuite, then.” And so, he walked past the two taller mechs.

He’s been holding you for a while now, should you say something? It’s probably better to say something.

“You know you don’t have to carry me everywhere, right?” you asked him.

First Aid’s vocalizer choked, “I- You’re just small, that’s all! Most of the ‘Bots might not realize you’re there since you’re so tiny! Also, you’re still recovering from your wounds. Dr. Daule said that you shouldn’t walk too much as the leg wound recovers, right?”

“Touche.” You felt his grip on your thigh tighten slightly, as if he’s doubling down on keeping you right where you were. It’s understandable though, organic species compared to hulking machines are so delicate, especially those with injuries or preexisting medical conditions.

The rest of the walk was done in silence, which was fine with you. Talking isn’t exactly your best skill, after all. After First Aid went to his habsuite, he placed you on the desk that didn’t have much on it, but that’s something that you didn’t really care about. There were a few soft blankets and a few pillows, likely things the two others Ratchet mentioned. What were their names again? Velocity and… Skids?

Why is that name familiar? You swear that you knew someone who was called Skids. Your caretaker mentioned a large mechanical being with that name who helped save you from that facility, transporting you both to Aunt Daule so you could get treated. You’re pretty sure you bled on him, is he mad about it?

Oh well, it can’t be helped. You’ll find out after you sleep. Cautiously crawling into the blanket pile, you wrapped one of them around you before laying down. “I’m going to bed, see you later.”

First Aid nodded, “Please rest well.”

[saintship]

GAZ COMING HOME TO A SURPRISE PARTY FROM YOU AND HIS FAMILY AND MAYBE EVEN A PROPOSAL OR PREGNANCY ANNOUNCEMENT BC HES A GOOD BOY WHO DESERVES GOOD THINGS PLSTHX

YOU GOT IT❗️❗️❗️

Warnings: lovey dovey, swearing, kissy kissy, proposal

Warm welcome - Gaz x Reader

The kitchen calendar made you smile; partly because Gaz insisted on keeping up with them, marking and annotating and doodling in the margins, and partly because you’d been waiting for today’s date for eight months.

The deployment had gone on for much longer than it was supposed to, which was normal, but you couldn’t help the nights you spent sitting by the phone or sifting through photo albums, the images of his face the only thing you could focus on. And, he could only tell you so much; all you knew was someone on the task force needed to be rescued, and it took more than one try. Gaz told you your FaceTimes were the only thing keeping him steady. He’d also made a bold stroke in your relationship; asking his mother to call you personally.

She’d called when you were nodding off after pacing the kitchen late into the night, picking at your takeout and furiously cleaning the countertops. When your tears started rolling, the phone rang. The unknown number made you think of the worst; you picked it up in a panic.

“Is he okay?” You asked breathlessly, one hand resting at your head to steady yourself.

“Sorry?.. I might have the wrong number, is this..”

The way she said your name caught your attention; Gaz had a certain lilt to his accent that you found so cute; and now you’d heard it from the source.

“Yes..”

“I’m Kyle’s mum.”

You leaned against the kitchen island, your breathing steadying. “Hi..”

“It’s nice to hear your voice, I wish he would have brought you home last holiday.”

“He talks about me?”

A gentle laugh answered you. “Darling, he doesn’t stop.”

You blink, folding one arm under the other as you began to feel a warmth in your chest from the gesture, Kyle talking about you to his mom..

“And anyway, he gave me your number, he knows how late you stay up and wanted to make sure you had someone on the line.”

The warmth burst into a brilliant light of admiration and love for your boyfriend; he knew he couldn’t always be there, and instead of only offering an apology, he furthered your involvement in a different way.

“I- that’s..” You huffed, smiling through the dried tear streaks and headache that plagued you.

“Ma’am, I- I love your son more than I can say..”

“I’d hope so.” She replied easily.

You laughed again, your worry fizzling into a low flame.

You spent three hours on the phone that night; though it felt like minutes. You learned about Kyle; how he was during primary school, how he would dress as a differently ranked soldier every Halloween, and picked up every flyer he could to enlist out of high school. She had been terrified, of course, no mother hopes for her son to be a soldier, but she supported his job anyway. It was something you shared; a love that overpowered your fear of the worst outcome.

“What do you usually do when he arrives?”

She’d been asking how you were feeling about him coming home in a few days, if everything went to plan, that was.

“I uh, I make dinner, you know, usually I get his car washed and waxed or something nice like that for him to come home to. He loves that thing more than me.”

“He better not!”

You laughed together for the umpteenth time.

“But.. we could plan something with more people? I’d love to spend some time together in person, and you can bring anyone you like..”

“That would be amazing, darling.”

So, a few days later, Kyle’s mother and father, brother, sister, grandfather and aunt were helping you pin up streamers and a ‘welcome home’ banner, fixing a large meal, and yelling at the TV as their home city struggled in the latest aired football match.

Before they had arrived, though, you’d gone to a family-owned jeweler for a nice watch to gift him with. Skimming the rows of silver and gold plated pieces, you thought about looking somewhere else when you wandered near the ring cases. What began as pure curiosity built into a warm image of you revealing a small box, pouring everything in your mind into the room, and fitting the ring onto his perfect hands before kissing his stupidly perfect face. One band in particular was a shiny tungsten ring, stronger than steel and with a smooth, silver finish. You didn’t think, you just swiped your card.

Now, that ring sat in a velvet box under your pillow, where you examined it each night, anxiety stirring in your stomach. Was this the right time? But you couldn’t think about that now; he was almost home.

“He’s pulling in..” You murmur to the room when you spot him through the blinds, and you rush to stand near the doorway. The sound of keys jingling nearly made you break your cover out of excitement, but he pushed the door open, and the room erupted in cheers of surprise, the ‘Welcome home’ banner in the kitchen glittering in its gold letters.

His eyes widened and blinked in surprise, looking between his family in you with a disbelieving laugh. You took him in your arms, melting in the sensation of him squeezing you back just as tight as his family cooed at the gesture.

“You did this?” He murmured near your ear.

You kiss his cheek that’s facing away from his family.

“Me and your mom..”

“Oh, hell..” he stroked your cheek, his brow drawing together in further disbelief.

You led him, smiling, to the kitchen for him to hug his family next, your heart bursting when he lifted his sister in the air with the momentum of his hug.

“This is mental..” he murmured as he wrapped an arm around you again, looking around.

“You’ve got a gem, Kyle.” His father spoke earnestly.

Kyle turned to move a piece of hair away from your eyes. “Yeah, I know..”

“Big softie!” His sister teased loudly, grinning.

“Sod off..” He threw a crumpled napkin at her, making you smile at the exchange.

The dinner was amazing, but you could have eaten anything with them and enjoyed the experience. It felt like you’d stepped into a beautiful other world where you just felt right. Having him next to you, let alone in the same room, was elating after being separated from him for so long, and you couldn’t help but always be pressed against him in some way. Linking a finger, resting your leg against his, touching shoulders, anything to feel the warmth you’d been craving for the better part of a year.

When it was time to say goodbye, and the last guest closed the door behind him, Kyle kissed you deeply, holding your face delicately with both his hands.

“You’re unbelievably, incredibly, amazing..” he murmured against your lips. “Missed you so fucking much, babe..”

His accent was thicker when he spoke so honestly, and it made your head spin. Or maybe that was how he kissed you like you put the sun in the sky.

“Missed you more..” you pulled him into a close hug, nestling your head into his neck shamelessly.

“You tired?” You ask quietly.

“Yeah..” the slight guilt in his voice made you pull back slightly.

“Kyle, I get it, I promise. Let’s go to bed, baby..”

He let you lead him to the bathroom where you brushed your teeth together before changing and slipping under the covers. Your head pounded as you partially hid your hand under the pillow, clutching the small box so tightly it might have bursted if you hadn’t taken in a steadying breath.

“You alright?” Kyle traced your knuckles with his hands; he was sitting up slightly, his hat taken off along with his shirt, and the soft lamp light just lit up his eyes in the most adorable way..

“I have a question.. it’s- important.” You shifted slightly closer.

“Is everything alright?” He rephrased his question slowly, worry growing in his gaze.

“I’ll just.. show you first..” With a quick exhale, you pulled the box from underneath the pillow, gently separating your free hand from his to open the top. His eyes grew wide.

“Sweeheart..”

“I’m so in love with you.. every time I talk about you, or hear you, or see you—think of you.. I’m just so gone it makes me look stupid. I want to spend my life with you, and I want to give myself to you. Because that’s how I would feel right, and safe. With you..”

You breathed deeply.

“Kyle Garrick.. will you marry me?”

His jaw might as well have detached, because his mouth had been hanging open for half of your deceleration.

“Y-yes! Fuck, yes!” He scrambled to sit up fully as you slid the ring on, taking the first opportunity to smother you in a hug and pepper your face and neck with kisses. “I love you so much..”

Tears of adrenaline and joy stung your eyes as you laughed breathlessly.

“I love you more..”

[gxjosbaybee]

ᯓ★. CHAPTER ONE - Distractions .

Suguru sighed as he set his phone down, throwing his head back against the back of his chair as a hand came down his face. Almost two years. Two years since the supposed love of his life started hating him, and he couldn’t even pinpoint why. Not even now.

Was it something he’d done? Couldn’t have been. He was always so good to Oliver, every time he got the chance. 

It’s not like he could ask her, she wasn’t talking to him. Plus, she hadn’t even told him nearly two years ago. He kept asking and asking, but to no avail. Eventually, the silence and stubbornness on her end became nothing short of annoying. He grew to hate silence because of her. He used to love it, but now, being left alone with his thoughts, in a room where nothing could interrupt them, it was dreadful.

Suguru bit the inside of his cheek as he recalled Satoru’s words. “Come to my party, dude. Get your mind off it for a bit, yeah?”

… Maybe he should go. 

The loudness of the music, the people…it would serve as a good distractor.

Anything but this silence.

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‧ ˚ ₊ ꒷ ꒦ ︶ ︶ ︶ ︶ ︶ ꒷ ꒦ ︶ ︶ ︶ ︶ ︶ ꒦ ꒷ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⊹

“Honey, don’t you think this has gone on long enough?” 

Cosmic’s voice was mixed with equal concern as it was irritation. She loved Oliver—cross her heart and swear to die, she did. But seeing her so heartbroken over something out of her control- for the second year straight now…it was terrible to see. 

The brunette sniffled, shaking her head as she roughly wiped her eye with the inside of her thumb. “You tell me, Cos,” Oliver replied, exhaling shakily. Lazy, green eyes looked down into the half-empty ice cream bowl in her lap, a shaky hand coming up to the spoon for another big scoop. “It’s not like I want to cry over-” a groan, “over a boy.”

Cosmic and Cecilia exchanged a look. The younger woman sighed, putting a hand on her sister’s back and rubbing it up and down as she’d been doing. “Right, we get that… But don’t you think you should actually talk to Suguru instead of letting this drag on?” At Oliver’s unamused glare, Cecilia raised her hands defensively. “I know, I know how you are with confrontation. I know you want us to do it for you—but something like this needs to be taken care of face-to-face, don’t you think? I mean- imagine how Suguru feels; the girl he loves just starts hating him, and he doesn’t get a reason for it. I’d be pretty distraught myself.”

Oliver huffed, rolling her eyes. “He doesn’t deserve an explanation from me.”

He did. And Oliver knew that very well. She just couldn’t bear seeing him again and having that one-on-one. 

It still hurt, the image of his lips on another girl’s... But did she have the right to be upset? They weren’t even together.

Luckily, Cosmic and Cecilia understood well enough to know why she was so upset. From an outsider’s perspective, Oliver and Suguru were practically dating already. They never officially asked each other out, but with the way they acted—the nicknames, the handholding, the chemistry…hell, everyone thought they were dating.

Everyone also thought that they just had a messy breakup. 

“...Dove,” Cecilia said, cupping her sister’s face. She hesitated. She could see  how tired Oliver was from the whole thing alone. Just thinking about this was exhausting and painful to her. She bit her lip and relented with a sigh, swiping her thumb across the apple of her sister’s cheek. “How about we go out for a bit? Just me, you, and Cosmic. Is that alright?”

Oliver’s gaze softened as she stared back at her sister, she turned her head to her other side, and saw Cosmic offering her a soft, friendly smile. All they cared about was her comfort, really. 

… It was sweet.

“...Sure.” Oliver finally decided. “Where to?”

“A cafe,” Cosmic was quick to pipe up. “I’m hungry, and I want a coffee. Is that fine?”

Cecilia chuckled. “Of course it is. Whatever you want.”

Oliver groaned. “I thought this was about me.”

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎‧ ˚ ₊ ꒷ ꒦ ︶ ︶ ︶ ︶ ︶ ꒷ ꒦ ︶ ︶ ︶ ︶ ︶ ꒦ ꒷ ‧ ₊ ˚ ⊹

ᯓ★. A/N; this was rushed pleek don't come for me

ᯓ★. TAGLIST; @dabis-favorite-slut, @drxgonspine, @stitchyys-maiin, @scrumblewonk

[atopvisenyashill]

https://www.tumblr.com/atopvisenyashill/763345309409624064/something-i-noticed-is-that-when-jaime-and-cersei

I don’t know if short sighted is the word.

Tywin’s obsession with Jaime being his heir was irritating, the man was never gonna leave the kind guard unless he was forced to. I don’t know why he didn’t name Tommen as heir either.

I think possibly Tywin would’ve loathed Cersei as a man because she’d be a part of him that he don’t like. Tywin is all about family image and status.

Tyrion is Tywin but he’s a dwarf so to Tywin he’s deformed not bodily fit to represent him.

Cersei is very much like Tywin but I think as a man Tywin would feel somehow threatened, I think Cersei as a man would’ve thrived.

Jaime is Tywin’s perfect heir because he’s his first child with Joanna but he’s also tall, strong, handsome and not as wild as Cersei?

I always seems Cersei as the most fiery, assertive Lannister family member, and tbh if they were all men I think Cersei would either match or surpass Tywin’s cruelty/ruthlessness and would have no issue asserting herself which Tywin would’ve loathed.

You mentioned Tyrion Targaryen but tbh I think perhaps George had it in mind when he first wrote it but then it was scrapped off. Tyrion has white silvery hair and Jaime & Cersei gold hair. So I think it was thought but then let out kinda like Jaime being King (hence the foreshadow) and then change of plans.

All this to say is that I think Cersei is a dramatic at heart and when she gets mad she will get to the most extreme point. She calls Jaime unfit for the Lannister name by implying dramatically Tywin had no sense, she calls Jaime useless by dramatically pointing out that he’s crippled “ouh an angry cripple how scary” is very wild work because he lost a hand but like the rest of him and his brain works. And then she goes ahead “your dick look small and sad” when he lost a boner which honestly I thought was comedic because it’s a serious jab at his masculinity aimed to alight him but it’s also so unserious of her😭 because soft dick would look small next to the hard thing. Can’t lie, if it wasn’t for the Valonquar prophecy, I’d be down for a Cersei semi atonement arc with her and Taena (I have a full argument that Cersei while being sexually unhealthy does feel something outisde of power enjoyment for Taena.)

I replied but I forgot to add 😭 that I think Cersei is the fiercest out of the three but they’re all hostile. I just think Cersei as a man, would’ve been a threat to Tywin because I think Cersei would be ballsier and assert her own thoughts and idea and not be as weary

wait before i dig in-

it’s also so unserious of her😭

that's cersei in a nutshell lmaoooo, she's the most hilarious person in this whole series to me, genuinely, because she is just deeply unserious as a person lmao. you're right that sometimes she says stuff and you're like "now how did you think that one was gonna work out for you" but I think Tyrion is just as bad about that stuff - like when he threatens to have Tommen raped it's like well....Tyrion how did YOU think she was gonna react to that one lsajf. this is just a family of deeply dramatic and deeply not serious people. medieval roy family fr.

BUT OKAY.

tywin might not have liked male!cersei

honestly, i think that's a fair assessment. while i would argue that tywin wouldn't mind a male cersei asserting his opinion because that would be his heir, i can't say that for sure - after all, he's not exactly fond of jaime doing whatever he wants, and a Normal Person wouldn't be so hostile to Tyrion once Tyrion proves himself to be a scholarly man with a sharp mind! I know there's like, the ableism factor here working against Tyrion, but neither Kevan nor Genna are particularly hostile to Tyrion, and in fact they both see to think Tywin is being stubborn and goofy by not just finally acknowledging Tyrion as heir when he's incredibly intelligent and savvy. Tywin thinks he wants someone as vicious as he is, but when you look at like, the sort of person Kevan is, I'm not sure Tywin would ultimately be happy with an heir who pushes back; part of why Kevan is still so close to Tywin (and part of why Genna isn't) is in fact because Kevan doesn't really contradict Tywin.

with all that said though, i do wonder what a Cersei who was given an outlet for her own bad habits would be like - better, more measured or much, much worse? the obvious answer is "so much worse because the worst parts of her are enabled" a la Joffrey, but at the same time, if she's not so jaded, hasn't lived through a lifetime of domestic violence, has been allowed to hone and sharpen her mind and skills, maybe she'd be a lot more similar to Tyrion rather than Jaime.

Can’t lie, if it wasn’t for the Valonquar prophecy, I’d be down for a Cersei semi atonement arc with her and Taena (I have a full argument that Cersei while being sexually unhealthy does feel something outisde of power enjoyment for Taena.)

no you're so real for that, i definitely agree that Cersei feels something for Taena outside of power, there's a certain affection there. i think cersei is deeply starved for attention and affection, i think she really does want emotional connections but is completely unsure of how to get those connections and nurture them. the way she really latches onto taena and qyburn is just. it makes me so emotional, she just really wants someone to confide in!!!

anyways Cersei Trans Man Is Real alsdjfkldjf

[mariacallous]

After the Summer Olympics’ opening ceremony, drag artist Nicky Doll felt she was on a cloud. Her makeup had survived 45 minutes of torrential rain as she performed on a bridge over the Seine River and she’d just witnessed waacking and voguing, both dance forms with queer roots, reach a worldwide audience of billions of people.

Back in the dressing room, which was on a boat, the mood was celebratory. “We were all so proud that in 2024, we were given the platform to be,” says Doll, known for her appearance on the reality show RuPaul’s Drag Race and as the host of Drag Race France.

It wasn’t until the next day that Doll realized she was also at the center of an Olympic-sized backlash. French Catholic bishops decried the ceremony’s “derision and mockery of Christianity.” Donald Trump called the show “a disgrace.” Critics focused their anger on one scene, where Doll posed alongside other Drag Race artists, interpreting it as a parody of the Last Supper, a painting by Leonardo da Vinci and an important image in Christian iconography. Organizers denied that was the inspiration. But by then, it didn’t matter. The online mob had its momentum.

On Doll’s phone, that momentum took the form of a slew of notifications. Her name was getting tagged. Personal attacks were filing into her DMs. Then came the threats: “we know where you live,” “we have guns,” “we will cut your throat.” Other performers were getting harassed, too. A special police unit dedicated to fighting hate crimes was tasked with investigating online abuse targeted at lesbian activist DJ Barbara Butch, the Paris prosecutor's office told the Associated Press.

“As queer people, we are used to being criticized on social media,” says Doll, who is from Marseille but now lives in New York. “But when we saw they were using religion … in order to attack us, this felt like a low blow that we didn't see coming.”

Behind the messages were the usual crowd of anonymous trolls, hiding behind accounts with no names or profile pictures. But among them was also Laurence Fox, a British actor turned right-wing commentator, who has become notorious for making misogynistic and homophobic comments. On the night of the opening ceremony, amid the backlash, Fox posted a video of the catwalk scene on X, calling the cast “little pedos.” The post remains visible on the platform with a fact-check label that says: “There is no evidence that any of the people in the photograph are pedophiles.”

In response, Doll, who features in the video next to Butch, decided to sue Fox for defamation in France. “I want to sue him personally, because I want him to understand that he cannot continue to use us for his personal agenda and his words matter,” she says, “The message that he sends to his fan base matters. He's an enabler for hate and homophobia and transphobia.” Representatives for Fox and X did not reply to WIRED's requests for comment.

For Doll, the concern is that the type of rhetoric that came in response to the opening ceremony, if left to spread unchecked, could inspire offline violence. “Queer people could be literally murdered in the streets,” she says. “It’s very important that we stop allowing this kind of rhetoric to demonize queer people. We are not demons. We are not trying to attack religion and families. We are just trying to live our lives and to have representation in the media for other people who are not loved or have not even come out to feel like they are seen.”

This is not the first time Fox has been sued by someone in the drag community. In April, a British court ordered him to pay £180,000 ($200,000) to Simon Blake, incoming CEO of British LGBTQ+ campaign group Stonewall, and Crystal, another star in the Drag Race universe, after calling the pair pedophiles on X.

Doll is hoping her case can dispel the idea that online mobs have to be endured alone. “I am showing them that the law is an option they can [pursue],” she says. “The government is on their side and there are things they can do when they are being attacked.”

Doll, who received the majority of the attacks via Instagram and X, says the two platforms have not been equal in their attempts to contain the abuse. “I think that Instagram and [parent company] Meta are doing as much as they can,” she says. After reporting DMs she received through the app, the company responded to tell her those profiles had been removed.

On X, however, she feels like there are barely repercussions for people spreading abuse. “I think that Twitter is a trash can of negativity and allows so much hate,” she says, using the platform’s previous name.

Yet this is not just about abuse targeting celebrities. “What worries me is that people are going through things like this,” she says, “who do not have the power that I have.”

[twinflamedfool]

anything to you

rating: explicit pairing: baelon targaryen/viserra targaryen contains: dubcon, sexual coercion summary: for years, the targaryen dynasty had been known for their affinity to sons. what those outside the family did not realize was that they had plenty of daughters—they just grew up to become the wives of targaryen sons. viserra had no appropriately aged brother or uncle to lay a claim to, but there was one man that fit her tastes. a widow, her second eldest brother who she’d been close to when she was a child. there was already fondness for her in his heart—one she’d be exploiting for her own purposes, but if that didn’t work—well, viserra wasn’t unwilling to make a scene. it was what she was known for after all. word count: 4.1k you can also read here!

Sometimes Viserra wondered what would happen if it ever came out just who the girls who married Targaryen men were. That was to say, she wondered what would happen if the general public found out that the reason the women looked so alike to their husbands was because they were related. Oh, the press would have an absolute field day; it’d be the end of the Targaryen reign, really.

Incest was looked down upon these days—for centuries, actually—but while the old families who had partaken in it had stopped practicing it altogether, the Targaryens continued, only this time in secrecy. 

When you had money, people could be paid off to look the other way, and look away they did.

The Targaryens were well known to produce sons, no matter which generation. There was the occasional daughter, the one that came to mind was her niece, little Rhaenys, but on the whole, there were mostly only sons. The reason for that was because the daughters that were born were given a new maiden name. Sometimes Velaryon, sometimes Blackfyre, sometimes Celtigar, sometimes Seastar. as was the case with herself; the point is that they were mostly never Targaryen.

Documents were altered to include mystery, made-up parents for sweet, little baby girls, girls meant for their brothers or uncles or cousins, and no one knew because her family was wealthy and had plenty of connections to keep it under wraps.

Still, Viserra knew she was pushing the bounds by attempting what she wished to. She had no appropriately aged brother or uncle to lay a claim to, but there was one man that fit her tastes. A widow, her second eldest brother who she’d been close to when she was a child. There was already fondness for her in his heart—one she’d be exploiting for her own purposes, but if that didn’t work—well, Viserra wasn’t unwilling to make a scene. It was what she was known for after all.

-

“Oh, Viserra, how I have missed you!" Her brother proclaimed, opening his arms for her to leap right into, which she did. He took her into his embrace, and then spun her around. Her heart fluttered in her chest, quick and loud to her own senses. She breathed in his scent of sandalwood and smoke and turned boneless in his grip. It had been too long since she had last seen him.

“And, I, you, Baleon,” Viserra replied, just as happily as he had. She was going to ruin his joy soon, so she would bask in his warmth while it lasted.

For a moment, she reconsidered if this was truly worth it. She’d lose his love, his easy regard for her, but she’d be gaining security in all the manners that mattered most. It helped that he was easy on the eyes, the very image of all she’d ever wanted in a husband but did not ever expect to possess. She loved Baelon, but not enough to condemn herself to a marriage to a dim-witted oaf of the likes of Theomore Manderly.

If Baelon had any love for her, he would have spoken up sooner and saved her before this was ever a problem, but he had become a coward after Alyssa’s death. So much for his epithet as Baelon the Brave. It was up to Viserra to keep herself safe, and this was the route she had chosen. There was no going back.

-

Getting Baelon drunk was a task she hadn’t expected to be so arduous. She had forgotten to account for his much larger mass, but this small bump in her plans would not dissuade her. He would just be a little more sober when she laid out her ultimatum; it might even help her case.

It was easy to move from light-hearted talks to heavier ones. She may not be the skilled silver-tongue Saera was, but she knew how to weave a conversation to suit her needs.

She rested her head on his shoulder, watching the sunset from the little villa she’d been vacationing at. His hand was on her own while the other one held his whiskey glass loosely. It was such a pretty sigh; it was why she had chosen this location. Well, that and the clear opening someone could sneak into if they wished to catch a glimpse of the on-goings of a Seastar. Who knows, they might even catch more than expected.

“Baelon, I confess I was not without reason to invite you here.”

“Loneliness is not reason enough?”

“Not to take you away from your sons.”

“I love them, but they’re terrors, so this is, at the very least, a welcome reprieve from them—and from work.”

Viserra laughed, “Well, I am glad to give you a break since you so clearly needed it. I, too, needed a break,” Viserra paused, pulling her hand out from his own and placing it atop her other on her lap, then continued, “I know you must have heard. It is all Alysanne seems to speak about these days.”

“I do wish you would call her Mother.”

She scoffed, “And why should I when she never raised me? Or any of her daughters after Daenerys? Well, besides from her dearest Gael. She has her favorites, and I am not one, as is evident with my upcoming engagement.”

“She has said he is a kind man,” Baelon replied weakly. She whipped her head to look at him indignantly.

“Has she also told you about his age and status as grandfather? While I may not bear the name Targaryen, I was raised to be one. It would be a complete disservice to me if this marriage goes through. I am not ruined, you know. I have half a mind to go to Lord Velaryon and beg him to take me.”

No she wouldn’t, not for him, but for Baelon…. Well, she was here, wasn’t she?

Baelon stared at her with wide eyes and an agape mouth. It took him only a few moments to collect himself.

“You would go against Mother’s wishes? And to Corlys Velaryon of all people?”

Must he always mention Alysanne? It made Viserra sick to her stomach. Why must everything come back to that accursed woman?

“At least he is of an age with you and not our own parents as is the case with that Manderly man. Do you truly think this is something I wish for, Baelon? And worry not, I do not need Lord Velaryon’s love or even his fidelity, just the security of his name and status. He is handsome, a Valyrian.” She let her eyes water and resolutely did not wipe her tears away as they began to wet her lashes and then cheeks. “If I marry him, I will not have to go north. I will not have to leave the only home I have ever known.”

“Viserra….”

She stood up then, walking forward to grip the top rail of the balcony and looked at the beginnings of the sunset. She could see the glint of a camera in the garden’s foliage. Baelon stood up and took her hands in his own; they were so much bigger than her own. She had to crane her neck up to look at him. His eyes were soft as they gazed upon her.

“Have you nothing to say, brother—or should I not call you as such?”

He looked hurt when she said that. “Viserra, how could you believe that? I love you very much—”

She interrupted, “But not enough to persuade Alysanne to stop this? You are her golden boy, you know. She’d do anything you say. She will not argue with you if you say this match shouldn’t happen.”

“I—”

“I suppose I can always join Saera. I recently got in contact with her, and she seems to be doing just fine. She even invited me to work for her once news of my upcoming nuptials reached her.”

His grip tightened around her hands. “You will not go to Volantis, sister. I have been remiss in my brotherly duties, and for that, I am sorry. I will talk to Mother, and we will see what comes out of it.”

We will see what comes out of it, he says, as if he cannot just tell that wretched woman to put an end to this match, and she will bend to his whims, Viserra thought viciously.

If it wasn’t for her, Viserra would not have to ruin the single, most important relationship she had. She would have stayed away from him had this pending marriage not been arranged, hopelessly pining after her elder brother like a lovesick fool. Instead, she must take action—and with the person she loved best. Even if he never loved her like a wife, or even a sister after she revealed her ultimatum, he would still treat her as a person and not a trophy—a thing.

Viserra began to cry in earnest now, and this was all it took for him to gather her in his arms and hug her. She clutched at the back of his Oxford as she sobbed into his chest. He rubbed soothing circles into her skin. Viserra was brought back to a time when she was just a little girl who would cry over Saera’s bullying and he was her big brother who would make everything right again.

Click.

Only after she managed to stop her wet cries did Viserra pull away from him, wrapping her arms around her middle so as to not do something foolish like clutch at him like a child again. He stepped forward and cupped her face, his thumbs wiping away her tears gently.

Click.

And just like that, she had her insurance.

Viserra pulled away from Baelon, ending their moment, and took a few steps away from him. His face contorted in grief, which was soon to turn to rage, she knew.

“You should know Baelon that I am never without motive to do anything.”

“You said as such already, Viserra. Come, let us sit down, and you can share whatever more you wish to. I have missed much of your adult life and want to hear about you.”

Her jaw trembled, and she almost lost all her resolve right then and there, but he was too late for that route.

“I do not wish to marry Lord Velaryon, and you already know my opinion about that fat fuck Manderly, yet Mother will insist I marry someone. If it should be anyone...” Viserra took a deep breath in. “I would want it to be you.” She watched as his features slid from hurt to shock. She continued, “You have love for me, and I, for you—”

Finally, he found his courage and interjected, “A sisterly love.”

“It is still love, no? And do not act as if that has stopped you before. Alyssa was your sister too.”

“Do not bring her into this, and besides, you… you are my baby sister. Viserra, you are so young.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I may be your younger sister, but I am no baby, and if you think me so young, why not speak up about my engagement, hm? If you think I am so young compared to you, what about that man—and Corlys Velaryon, hm? To them, I might as well be a fresh-faced babe, for they are so old. Do not speak to me of youth!”

Controlling her emotions was harder when they were just so real.

“Baelon, I do not ask much of you—”

“You ask to be my wife, the stepmother of my children, and you say it is not much?”

“I do not ask for your love, or even your affection, just security. As for your children, Daemon already likes me. He comes by to visit because I am his fun aunt, and Viserys adores our niece, Aemma, who adores me. He will grow warm towards me simply for that fact. I am not trying to replace Alyssa—”

“You could never.”

Viserra would not let that hurt her.

“Nor do I want to, but Baelon, I do want to be your wife.”

“I do not view you in that light, Viserra, but I can help you with Mother.”

So, it had come to this.

Viserra sighed, “I wish it had not come to this, dear brother, but I will have no other than you. If you truly thought I would go to Corlys or even to Saera, you must be daft. I have much more pride than to sully myself with someone not of my own blood. My name is Seastar, yes, but I am a Targaryen, through and through. I have proof of it, too. Sometimes your son knicks himself playing in my garden and bleeds through scrapes and scratches, and I must bandage them. I have his blood, and I have my own. I wonder what would happen if they were to be tested beside one another. Alyssa was once a Seastar, if you remember; my full-blooded sister. What kind of scandal would happen if it came out that we both shared the same genes?”

“You would dare?”

“Yes. Yes, I would. I owe nothing to this family and would ruin everything our family has built up for centuries.

“Just to—to have me?”

“Baelon, Baelon, Baelon, do you never listen? Yes, to have you as my husband. If this is not enough to convince you, I should warn you the papers tomorrow will have an interesting headline if you do not agree to this.”

“Agree to what? And what headline would that be?”

He sounded agitated and ready to throttle her. Well, that was her fault for provoking him with Daemon first.

“To agree to a marriage between us, of course. I will not have to leave my home and I will be able to take up my proper name, and you will not have to be bothered by marriage proposals anymore. A life of contentment on both sides, if you will.” He didn’t seem to know what to say, so she continued, “As for what headline, well, the one about us, of course. A friend of mine took pictures of us here, and they are scandalizing to say the least. I wonder how much the photos will sell for…”

“You… I do not know who you are anymore, Viserra.”

“And whose fault is that? Everyone left me alone for years. Do you know how hurtful that was? To have family and not be able to associate with them? I was all by myself, and I do not want a life of isolation like that, so I will do what I must, even at the family’s expense—at your expense, Baelon.”

“I am,” he paused and took a deep breath in, “so angry with you.” They were chest to chest now, having somehow gotten closer to each other during their argument. There was a fury bleeding onto his features in a way she had never seen before. He took her chin between his fingers and tilted it upwards, but she kept her gaze at the space between his eyes. “You have manipulated me into something I do not want, threatened our family, used my son for your schemes, and who knows what else!”

“Hurt me, then,” Viserra said, finally looking into his eyes. “Hurt me if it’ll make this easier, Baelon, because I am not sorry.”

He scowled. “Gods, Viserra, is that how you view me?”

She looked away. “I do not know how to view you since I know only of you through my childhood memories and stories told of you through Daemon and Aemma. It has been years since we last saw each other, and phone calls do not count. I don't know you anymore, either.”

Then, an uncomfortable silence fell over them. What more could be said?

Baelon spoke up first, “Just—just go, Viserra. Go to bed, and we shall talk about it in the morning. I—I have to think.”

And so, she went.

A phone call later, to delay the photos, and she did not know what to do with herself. She got ready for bed, going through her usual nighttime routine as she thought about the situation she had created. She hadn’t planned for this outcome. She had expected anything but this. Once she finished her bath, she donned a nightgown and put her hair in its usual bedtime braid. She put on a record, and let her music blast as she cried once more.

Gods, I’m terrible.

Eventually, Viserra had cried herself out, and her record played through. She was thirsty now, and maybe a bit hungry too. She had drunk more than she usually had, and it was getting to her now. She tiptoed quietly to the kitchen because all the lights were off. Baelon had probably already retired for the night. She got a glass to fill with water. Once she had done so, she took a sip, and then nearly spat it out when she saw her brother lounging on the couch, illuminated by the moonlight peering in through the many windows of her villa.

Baelon was staring at her with near-lidded eyes. She glanced beside him, to the coffee table, and found the once nearly full bottle of whisky was now empty. She stood there nervously as she waited for him to say something, if anything. She began to turn away to leave when he spoke up.

“Come here, Viserra,” Baelon demanded, more than he asked.

And so, she went.

He motioned for her to sit next to him, patting the spot. She sat crisscross on it so that she could look at him while he spoke.

“I’ve given thought about what you said. A life of contentment, you said. A marriage of convenience than one of love or desire, but if you are to be my wife, I expect there to be desire. You expressed a desire for me specifically. I will ask candidly. In what manner do you want me, Viserra? As your brother to save you from marriage, or as a lover in marriage?”

His stare was intense, but she did not break it. She would be a liar if she said she had never thought about the second option. While in the throes of puberty, it was him her mind conjured up in her wet dreams. He had always been the ideal for her, but she was older now, not by much, but she knew when to accept her losses and take her wins. Still, that he even asked, maybe she could tell him the truth.

“I would be lying if I said I have not thought about the possibility of you being my husband in truth. I grew up on stories of sibling love matches, before it became apparent I was not to have such a match, and you were the only brother that cared for me. Yet, you already had a sister-wife and though she is dead, I know you still love her very much. It’s not realistic to expect such a thing from you, but yes, I do desire you carnally, Baelon. Yet, I would be just as content if you never touched me or talked to me again because I would not have to give up the life I currently live. Does that answer your question, brother?”

The corner of Baelon’s mouth twitched upwards, as if he was amused and did not want to show it. He answered, “Yes, sister. Now prove it.”

She blinked, immediately feeling her cheeks and ears go hot. He did not just say that.

“Kiss me, Viserra.”

Oh, she had heard right, but well… Viserra had little experience in such things. However, Baelon has asked her to, so she placed a hand on his thigh to steady herself as she leaned towards him and placed a kiss on his lips. He tasted of whisky. She pulled away, furiously blushing, and moved to sit back down properly when he pulled her into his lap, one hand on her hip as it pushed up her nightgown as the other cupped her cheek.

“Properly kiss me, Viserra,” Baelon murmured, his voice deeper than anytime she had ever heard it.

She had only ever shared kisses with her friends, friendly, brief kisses. That she was to have her first, real kiss with Baelon felt like a dream. She leaned in again, wrapping her arms around his neck and opened her mouth to deepen the kiss. He quickly took control of the kiss, and she tried to focus on it, really, but he kept rubbing circles on her hip, inching closer and closer to her inner thighs. She couldn’t help but moan as Baelon bit her lip, drawing her attention back to him effectively.

“I need more proof of your desire, Viserra. I need to know you’re serious about this.”

What more proof could he even need? She didn’t say so out loud, only nodded. He smiled crookedly and she felt a fluttering in her belly. He was unfairly handsome, able to make her feel like this so easily.

“Sit on the floor before me,” Baelon ordered, and oh.

Viserra knew what he was going to do—what she was about to do if she wanted him.

He unbuttoned and unzipped his trousers to release his erection. It was bigger than she expected, or maybe, she was just small and it was average. She had never seen one in person before, but she had seen plenty of pictures of them. It was… pretty, not as weird-looking as some appeared. Veiny, yes, but overly so, and long, but not too thick. Somehow, it was to go inside of her mouth.

“Come closer, sister.”

She did, and followed his unspoken command. She grabbed his dick with one hand while the other rested on his inner thigh and did not startle as it was hotter than she was expecting. She leaned in and gave it a cursory lick. It didn’t taste like much, maybe a little like sweat. This time she put her mouth around the tip, mindful of her teeth, and looked up to find Baelon was already looking at her. Viserra would be lying if she thought he had never looked better.

Gods, Viserra could feel her panties getting more and more soaked by the minute.

Sucking his tip gently made her brother moan, and suddenly, his hands were on her head, and he was gripping her hair. He used it as leverage to pull her closer, which made his dick go deeper in her throat. She gagged, but that did not stop him.

“Breathe through your nose, Viserra. Open your mouth more, and do not bite”

And so, she did.

He thrust deeper in her mouth and she could feel what little water she had drank before wanting to come up. She swallowed it down and sucked on the length she had in her mouth. Baelon moaned louder. Scooting closer to the edge of the couch, he began to slide out of her mouth, only to ram in further. She choked, panicking as he began to fuck her mouth in earnest. She couldn’t breathe, and it was beginning to hurt.

Breathe through your nose, he said, so she did, but it didn’t help. She couldn’t—she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes teared up involuntarily. She attempted to call out his name, or anything. She even hit his thigh repeatedly to get him to stop, but he wouldn’t. He was making all sorts of noises; his thighs were shaking, and then, he pulled her from off of him. She took in a deep breath, choking or gagging—one of them—but Baelon was not done.

He tilted her face upwards again, his hand stroking his dick, and suddenly, something hot and sticky splattered across her face, chest, and likely her nightgown too. She stared up at him, unsure of what to say to him or what to do.

Luckily for her, he took pity on her and answered her unasked question. “You said hurt me if it'll make this easier, didn’t you?”

Viserra nodded because she had but wasn’t expecting him to actually follow through.

“I’ll marry you Viserra, but don’t ever pull something like this again,” Baelon whispered, getting up and walked away.

He left her there, on the floor and with cum, vomit, and tears on her face, feeling dirty and used.

Despite getting what she wanted, it felt like a hollow victory.

[aarcanechaoss]

Fast Trust

Masterlist

There was a gun to his head.

Warnings: gun

Notes: chaos chaos chaos chaos jjk x bsd / Choso x Ichiyo

Set after Shibuya but imagine like most of that DIDNT happen Gojo is good, Yuji took control back from Sukuna faster than expected and Nanami and Nobara are uninjured.

There was a gun to his head.

A gun to his head while water slowly rose around him-them.

“Want to tell me why you’re in Yokohama?” A woman… something cold shuddered through him, there was so much power in those words alone… cursed speech? Just her energy? “Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m here with the Jujutsu Sorcerers from Tokyo.” He stated without another thought. “Satoru Gojo can vouch for me.”

The pressure of the gun pressed against his skull lessened slightly but it was clear she didn’t trust him. Not when they were alone underground with sea water rising slowly.

“The hell are you?”

“I’m half human, half curse.” The truth fell from his lips faster than he could stop it.

At least she finally pulled the gun away, the water that had been slowly rising seemed to falter as well.

“I’d ask how that’s possible but I don’t want to know.” She said with a laugh. “I can’t say shit I’m not exactly normal either I suppose.”

Choso turned… and had to look down.

Down at the woman who barely reached his collarbone and who was still very much holding her gun- though he had no idea if it was a weapon embued with cursed energy or not… her presence was startling enough.

“What do you mean?” He asks. “Because you have cursed energy?”

“Yes and no.” She shrugged. “Anyway you didn’t answer my question- why are you in Yokohama?”

“Gojo and the others are convinced Mahito and Geto are hiding here.” Choso frowned.

“They wouldn’t be in the port then- all the curses here report in when a new curse shows- it’s how I knew where you were before you ask.”

“The curses report in?” He’d never heard of that before.

“So long as they don’t kill innocents or children we don’t care what they do and they seem to appreciate it.” She shrugged again.

A stray thought passed his mind, Jogo would have liked Yokohama if he’d known this. Choso pushed that thought away- Jogo was dead, Sukuna had killed him after force feeding Yuji ten fingers.

If Choso hadn’t left Yuji after a flux of memories come forward he wouldn’t have been taken over… thankfully Yuji adapted quickly and there was no major casualties par Jogo and those human sisters Geto (Kenjaku) had kept around.

“Tokyo and Kyoto don’t seem to have thought about that.” Choso states instead.

“The higher ups are old fucks who only care about their image.” Her nose scrunches up in an adorable way… adorable? “I’m Higuchi by the way.”

He blinks, surprised by the change in attitude towards him.

“Choso.” He replies instead. “Is Higuchi your surname?”

“Yeah. I kind of have two first names for different workplaces.” She grins before snapping her head towards the tunnel ahead of them. “We should head back before the sea water fills this place up.”

“Two? Sounds confusing.” He said as they both turned to walk back the way they came.

It was weird, how easy the conversation suddenly felt considering she had just had a gun to his head.

“Eh sometimes- more for people who know about both but it also keeps unwanted attention from both sides.”

“Ah.” He stalls for a second before asking. “You uh switched your attitude towards me quite fast?”

“You told me the truth.” She said like it was all the answer he needed.

“I did but… oh I did answer before I really thought about it, is that your cursed technique?”

“Nope. And I suggest we speed up or I’ll actually have to use my CT.”

She was fast.

Maybe it was because she was wearing pants versus his robes but still- she’d reached the entrance and heaved open the door before he could even attempt to open it for them.

The door shut behind them with a loud clang and thud.

“Big sis!” A voice called from across the way where a car sat, humming quietly.

“Ah shit I forgot he was here.” She tutted. “Tell Gojo that if those Curses have managed to sneak into Yokohama his best bets would be the old warehouses along the port not the tunnels.”

“Thank you… Higuchi. I’ll let him know.” His mouth went dry for a moment as he looked her over properly, the dim tunnel lights not having done her service at all.

Pretty golden blonde hair, brown eyes that had a hint of amber while the fading sun shone by them and a definitely far more healthy complexion than his own.

“Be there in a sec Tachihara!” She yelled over at him, noticing that he began to creep their way.

So not a blood related sibling then.

“Where might I-we get in contact with you? While we’re still in Yokohama I mean.” He said quickly.

“Gojo and Nanami should have mine and Mori’s information since we’re the main sorcerers here. Otherwise I work at the Port Mafia if there’s any emergencies ask for Ichiyo Higuchi.”

“We’ll alert you to anything we find.”

“Good I’d appreciate it. I don’t like when shit fucks with my city.” She grinned. “I gotta go. See ya Choso.”

“Goodbye.”

Was it embarrassing to admit he wanted to know more about this woman? Perhaps Yuji would understand why she had intrigued him without telling him much at all.

More importantly… did she like flowers?

[dio-the-thot-exterminator]

whats the tumblr accounts of some of ur fav ocs like

I wanted to come up with actual usernames for them but some were taken and that's kinda awkward uhhhhhh

Becky Maurice

“You have tumblr? Ew grosss”

I love Becky but she wouldn't be caught dead on tumblr 

She's a Instagram tiktok girl sorryyy

If we are being sillay then she’d have a secret acc prlly one of those girly coquette blogs or a stan blog for cupcakke whaaaaaa

Definitely just something with aesthetic photos and gifs.

Also Becky does editing as a hobby so she might post some of her videos

If she were to interact/collab with someone it would be like those giant editing videos

(i guess this might be an instagram thing but when a lot of amv editors come together and slay)

She would only post edits that are relevant to the aesthetic and theme of her blog

also she'd delete asks and dms (if its not about collabing)   

Jia 

"What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my--"

I used an old photo i alr had oof

I don't even know but she would send a lot of hate anon

Like her whole blog is just her arguing with people.

She sends it off anon first but if someone stops replying or blocks her

She makes an another acc and goes on anon to terrorize people.

She's deff the person on live telling the opps to pull up and it's like 4 am

She got a job (a literal warrior princess) but she behave like she unemployed so she on here 24/7

I don't wanna say her blog would be like a thirst trap blog but...

if she's not arguing with ppl she's flexing on them and posting like insane workout videos.

Or sparring sessions.

or thirst traps but in a way to piss people off

She’d prlly post some sort of art too but the replies and reblogs are turned off cuz she fight with too many people hahhhhh

She’d also have to remake her blog so many times cuz she gets reported a lot

Jelly

"Actually now that i think about it she'd send anon hate too"

Jelly wouldn't use social media cuz she doesnt know what it is

But if she was stalking really liked someone she’d join.

Deff one of those accs that look like a bot

no header no pfp no posts no likes no titles or anythin

she just lurks 

or sends weird anon asks

Rurue 

"I draw her too damn much she doesn't need an image"

pink with glitter and its kinda tacky lookin with clashing colours

Her tumblr would be kinda a fandom blog?

About all her little shows that she fw

reblogging and likin everything hahaha hits the post limit everyday

she's one of the people that goes crazy in the tags

Rurue would post her fandom ocs awwww its gonna be so cute. 

Also just post images of her toys and little crafts then fucking randomly a image of her killing someone.

She gets away with it because people think it's a fake

She also doesn't know how to take good pictures so the victim is not identifiable

Octavia and Debbie

"Debbie doesn't look like that i was having trouble with her face so i covered one eye and yassified her..."

I'm grouping them together because they’d have very similar blogs.

(they are literally connected)

they are both kind of self loathing so they’d never post anything directly about themselves. 

ooo Becky would prlly find Debbie's blog and put her on blast -

"Uh look at the stupid shit debbie is posting on tumblr lets all make fun of her"

"Wait a minute becky…how’d you find that?”

“.......”

“What are YOU doing on tumblr???”  

The blogs would be a mix of like a rant vent #depression and like those early 2010 cringe like

The main difference is that debbie would be posting shit like this

and like those black and white images of crying anime girls.

Octavia would be reblogging historical art and photography etc etc

Ok thats it. Ahaha i spent to much time on this, sorry for typos <3 

[thequietmanno1]

Thelreads, MHA 289, Replies Part 2

1) “Yep, just as bad as I would expect.”- Uraraka’s never once considered using her Quirk in a lethal manner, and is horrified it was done using her power, but from Toga’s perspective, it was Uraraka’s power and the connection between them that saved her that time, which is another reason she’s speaking to her now, wanting confirmation that it wasn’t just a “mistake” and all being in her head.

2) “URARAKA USED HER HOOKS, BUT SHE AIMED STRAIGHT AT TOGA, LIKE, SHE DID REALLY TRY TO STAB HER AFTER HEARING THAT

HOLY SHIT MAN

I MEAN, OKAY I UNDERSTAND, BUT I WASN’T EXPECTING A REACTION LIKE THAT FROM URARAKA OF ALL PEOPLE”- It is possible to wrap somebody up in the lines, but whilst Toga’s equipment is normally used for the intent of stabbing and draining blood, here, she only uses them to retaliate in kind after Uraraka attacked her in anger when she was bearing her heart out to her- badly, but still. 3) “OH NO NOT THE FLATSCREEN HOW ARE WE GONNA WATCH [insert popular tv series here]NOW?”- Cracks in the screen dividing the image, like the divide that grows ever deeper between these two girls over the misunderstanding. 4) “Uraraka just doesn’t understand what Toga is trying to get at, but we do. She is trying to get uraraka to understand her, to see who she is, to see her as person.

This is a desperate attempt from Toga to reveal who she is in the hopes that one hero will see her as something besides a monster.

And it’s not working.”- At her lowest, it was Uraraka’s power that saved her. Now, at her lowest, she turns to the girl herself for aid….and it doesn’t work out, convincing her the only sanctuary in this world rests with the league – what’s left of it, anyway. 5) “OH MY GOD TOGA THIS SCENE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE SAD BUT I’M LAUGHING AT YOU RUNNING LIKE A KINDERGARTEN THAT JUST STOLE ANOTHER KID’S TOY”- A taste perhaps, of what their relationship could have been like if they’d grown up meeting each other before becoming a hero or a villain. 6) “OH OKAY BACK TO THE FUCKING HEARTBREAK I SUPPOSE THANK YOU HORIKOSHI FOR LETTING ME LAUGH FOR FIVE SECONDS BEFORE STABBING ME ON THE GUT AGAIN”- Toga tries to relate to Uraraka by bringing up something she also values just as much, but fails again to understand that she’s not explained to Uraraka that he’s dead and the connection they shared is gone, whereas Uraraka and Izuku’s is still intact. 7) “OH MY GOD SHE’S BITING IT BECAUSE THAT’S HOW SHE EXPRESSES LOVE HORIKOSHI PLEASE CAN YOU LET ME CATCH MY BREATH BEFORE ANOTHER BLOW?”- Getting a taste of the loving and stable relationship that she so craves, but can just never seem to get right. If she’d ever had a similar token from that kid who she first stabbed, I bet she’d have kept it on her all this time. 8) “Also, good for you, Elsa, but those feelings refuse to be shut down. They’ll strike when you least expect.”- Uraraka means she’s shut down the romantic feelings and attraction to Izuku in order to be a more effective hero who can support him, not that she’s gotten rid of them for good.  It stops her being an ineffective love interest ham stung by her emotions at crucial moments, as has been done in other manga. Yet ironically, it’s precisely those feelings that would have made her an effective hero to Toga here, able to relate to her somewhat and show that she’s not alone 9) “Oh okay, Toga seems to have like that particular point, I have a feeling she took that on a positive note, and I can kind see why, from what we’ve seen of her backstory she also repressed her feelings for a long time, before they burst forth and everything spiraled out of control.”- Toga thinks that Uraraka hates having to repress her true self, where in actuality, Uraraka would hate herself for being ineffective because of those same feelings in a crisis, unable to focus on saving people if she thinks/knows Izuku’s in danger. It’s born in part from Nighteye’s death during the Hassaki raid and feeling she maybe could have done more to help him, even if her emotions didn’t really impede her back then. 10) “Oh my god toga is so desperate trying to get Uraraka to understand but it just

doesn’t work

no matter what

they are talking about different things, they are worrying about different things”- Toga isn’t even wrong here really. Uraraka not facing her true emotions down and reconciling them with Izuku means they’re at risk of gradually growing underneath that repression, potentially resulting in another outburst when she can least afford it. But here and now, Uraraka’s feeling haven’t gotten that far yet, and she’s focused on the present chaos, rather than seeking a compromise with Toga that could lead to a happier future for her. In a way, this fight is a microcosm of the larger conflict between heroes and Villains, and how failure to communicate only deepens the conflicts and the escalation between both sides. 11) “I do agree with you Uraraka, but the thing that you don’t understand, that Toga was trying to make you understand, is that she is not doing it out of evil. She’s doing it because it’s how she expresses her love. That’s what makes it worse, she doesn’t want to cause pain, she wants to share her feelings, but the way she does it is completely incompatible with others

Toga needs to be stopped, that there is no doubt, and I’m sure you’re gonna do that, but I hope that when the time comes, you at least understand who she is.”- Toga gets battered by Uraraka’s satelites, because of how chaotic they are in the cramped space, but it also represents the final rejection of Uraraka getting through her naive hopes and directly hurting her with the harsh truth of the inevitability of them coming to blows, no matter how much Toga wishes it would be otherwise. 12) “SHE WAS FUCKING CRYING HORIKOSHI WHY YOU DO THAT TO ME YOU BASTARD”- And of course, it’s only when Toga gives up on the possibility of them understanding each other that Uraraka finally realises there was more to her words than her being a villain, or trying to taunt her like she thought she was. It’s only once it’s too late for reconciliation that the other side realises what they let slip through their fingers. 13) “Oh Toga is going back to them? that’s surprising, considering who’s there right now, but I suppose that she doesn’t blame Dabi the same way that we do. She does seem to be hurt about him not caring that much, but she definitely doesn’t blame him.

And, meanwhile, I feel like Uraraka has finally understood Toga, even if it was too little too late”- She really has nothing else, no other source of support or comfort from her pain, no matter how off-put she is about Dabi’s flippancy towards the loss of twice. 14) “AND THERE HE IS, RIGHT ON TIME

THANK YOU FOR THE HEADS-UP IDA, WE WOULD NEVER KNOW HE WAS ON ITS WAY”- The Rock, the Hard Place, and the poor saps stuck in between both. 15) “THE CARDS ARE STACKED, ALL THE MAJOR PLAYERS ARE HERE AND READY.THE GAME IS ABOUT TO BEGIN”- Not everybody will be walking away from this. Can you guess who’ll be left afterwards?

16) “There’s a lot to talk here. Mostly about Toga’s failed attempt to connect to a person she feel could understand her and realizing that no matter what she’ll always be seen as a monster no matter how much she tries to be understood.”- And the fact that she’s proved wrong about that only after she’d truly given up hope. Oh Cruel irony, you bite deep… @thelreads

[mythrae]

Hey! So since you want prompts, got a bit of angsty one for you. Maybe you could write about a point where for some reason Tav/durge/or an origin character isn't able to bring back a dead companion. Withers refuses to help, the revive scrolls aren't working, no divine help occurs. You can pick the companion (lover, friend, friends with benefits, go wild lol), but maybe explore either what leads up to it or the aftermath. If you want something more light let me know and I can think of something else

oh I love the way you think!!! thank u for this request!!!

I decided to write this about my wild sorcerer durge Salome :) also this was supposed to be a drabble and it's a bit longer than anticipated because I made it a little fluffy at the end (oops)

It all happened so fast.

Salome and her party were approaching the mountain pass, on their way to finally enter the Shadow Cursed Realms. Lae’zel saw a group of githyanki, her people, her own kind, and rushed to their side. She knew they would help direct them to the creché, to get the damned tadpoles out of their heads. 

She trusted her people to lead her to safety.

Instead, they slaughtered her, like a lamb on an altar.

"Only in death are the infected cleansed."

These were the words she heard as the image of the githyanki warrior piercing Lae'zels heart with her sword replayed over and over in her mind.

“Lae’zel! No!”

Salome found herself falling to her knees in front of her companion’s corpse. Around them, the githyanki that had turned their backs on Lae’zel lay strewn about, having met their own grim fates. Usually, the alluring smell of blood and the sight of guts would have her urges running rampant, begging her to play with these new-found toys scattered all around her.

But that urge never came. She only felt the urgency to bring Lae’zel back.

“Shadowheart, come quick! Please!” The half-drow commanded, hearing heavy footsteps coming from behind. The cleric was already conjuring up a spell, the familiar blue glow in between her fingers.

“Already on it.” She replied, her anxiety straining her voice.

Shadowhert knelt beside Lae’zel, muttering a few words under her breath as she released the magic into the githyanki fighter’s body. The blue light encapsulated her body, lifting it slightly up in the air before she fell back to the ground with a sickly thud.

But she didn't wake up.

With a furrowed brow, she tried again, speaking the incantation a little louder this time. Just like before, she was met with the same outcome.

Nothing.

“Dammit, it’s not working!”

“What do you mean, it’s not working?!” Salome yelled.

“I-I don’t know…” Shadowheart stammered, her hands shaking, “My revivify spell has never failed me before…”

“Nine Hells below… Does anyone have a scroll we can use?” Salome looked upwards to face her remaining living companions.

Astarion and Shadowheart shook their heads begrudgingly.

“Gods above…”

Salome grabbed La’zel’s shoulders and shook her aggressively.

“Wake up, dammit! We need you! I need you! Please!”

As she heard her cries echoing in the mountain pass, she felt the tears spilling out of her eyes, hot and salty, trailing down her cheeks. She may not remember much of her past life before the tadpole was put in her skull, but she knows she’d never cried over the death of anyone. She’s seen so many people lose their lives, and was also the reason others lost theirs, so why would she be shedding tears now?

Why was she so devastated?

“We need to get back to camp, as soon as possible.” Shadowheart’s voice pulled her back from her thoughts. “Withers should be able to help bring her back.”

Salome wiped the wetness from her face, nodding her head in agreement. “You’re right,” she said, “if there’s one thing that weird skeleton can do, it’s bring her back to us.”

The sorcerer was not a strong woman, but with all the adrenaline running through her, she was able to pick up Lae’zel’s limp body and throw it over her shoulder. As quickly as they possibly could, the party made their way back to camp, praying to whatever god would hear them for a miracle.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What do you mean, you can’t bring her back?!”

Salome didn’t mean to shout at Withers, especially after the sun had already set and her party members were getting ready for bed, but she couldn’t help it. He was her only hope of bringing Lae’zel back to life, and he refused her wishes.

“Their soul is in a place even I cannot peer into.” He stoically replied. 

“What the fuck does that even mean?”

Salome fell to her knees once more, burying her face in her hands. There was nothing she could do, it was all out of her control. It was hopeless. Her body shuddered as she sobbed, the loss of her companion almost too much for her to bear. 

“Why… Lae’zel…”

Withers looked down at Salome as she wept, his eyes gazing upon her with a twinge of empathy.

“Pray tell, Salome, why art thou so troubled?”

She paused, pulling her face away from the palms of her hands. 

“Thine Urge yearns to end the lives of many, yet thou shed tears over your fallen comrade?”

“I… I don’t know why, Withers.” Salome whispered, looking up at the skeleton, “I’ve never… felt this way before.”

“Hast thou ever had… a friend?”

A friend?

The thought was almost laughable to the half-drow.

“I doubt anyone would want to be my friend, Withers.” She confessed, softly. “Not with these urges plaguing my conscience.”

He shook his head with a knowing smile.

“Thou hath thine companions right here in thy camp.” He gestured towards Astarion and Shadowheart’s tents. “They would not stay with thee if they did not find thou as a friend. They trust thee with their own lives.”

She sniffled as she gazed over at their tents, slowly realizing that he may be right.

“Did… did Lae’zel..?”

“Of course.” He replied, “And that is why thou heart aches. Thou hath lost someone close to thee, a true friend.”

“A true friend…” she repeated. 

Salome had never thought she could have a friend before. 

And now, she realized she had friends all along.

“Now, go,” Withers ordered, “rest. Come morning, let you and your companions grieve your loss. Then, take care of thou companions on your journey. Let the loss of the githyanki be a lesson to you.”

She sighed, standing to her feet once more. “Thank you, Withers. I…”

“Say no more,” he interrupted. “Thou thanks is enough.”

With a small smile, Salome nodded to the skeleton, and turned to make her way to her tent for the evening.

Her heart was still broken that she was unable to bring back Lae’zel. The loss weighed heavily on her, and she wished there was a way she could have stopped the githyanki warriors, prevented them from fighting, even found allies from their forces. She would not be able to sleep that night, imagining all sorts of scenarios that could have saved her fallen friend.

But come morning, she would devote herself to make sure she kept both Astarion and Shadowheart safe, no matter the cost.