#instead the best practices want us to write code that is 'maybe' correct

[rainbowtiredoftheworld]

I keep seeing software developers with my same degree, who get payed (presumably) the same as me, bragging that they copy-paste code from chatgpt, and like... Do you not have dignity? Aren't you ashamed of yourselves? The average quality of code is already abysmal, what is there to be proud in making it worse?

[bemusedlybespectacled]

kind of a side thought from a couple of my posts about writing but I think it deserves its own post, so here goes:

when you're writing a conflict between two characters or factions of characters, you need to consider whether their disagreement over the premise or over the methods. put another way: do they disagree on the problem or the solution?

this is a genuinely tricky thing to identify, especially in very complex narratives, so let's do some very simple examples.

the situation: pacifist nation X is about to be invaded by empire Y. the laws and cultural practices of the Xians make violence and death so abhorrent that even accidental death is as minimized as possible. the Ylings, on the other hand, are totally cool with straight up murder and think diplomacy is for wimps, but are also pragmatic enough that they won't waste troops if they don't need to. the king of X calls in his council and asks for their opinions.

character A: It is more noble to die for one's beliefs than to live having broken them. We should allow the Ylings to invade us and if we die, we die. character B: If all life is sacred, then our lives are also sacred. We must fight back against the Ylings, even though that means we'd be committing violence.

A and B agree on premise but not solution: they both acknowledge that the Yling invasion is a bad thing that will lead to their deaths if unopposed and that the nonviolence code is important; what they disagree on is priorities and methods.

character C: We should invite them into our nation as honored guests. Maybe they'll spare us or at least kill us more mercifully. character D: We should propose an alliance and intentional annexation in exchange for our lives. Being part of the Yling Empire is a pretty sweet deal, actually.

C and D agree on solution but not premise: they're both okay with just letting the empire walk in and invade, but C thinks the invasion would be a bad thing and is just trying to minimize the damage, and D thinks it would be a good thing and wants to maximize the rewards.

character E: We should fight the Ylings and stay a sovereign nation; the nonviolence code is stupid and holding us back. character D: We shouldn't fight the Ylings and try to be peacefully part of their empire instead; we'd be true to our code and reap the rewards of an alliance.

E and F disagree on both premise and solution.

Now, all possible permutations of this argument are fine. "Is this the best way to solve the problem?" and "What actually is the problem?" are both great sources of conflict. Captain America: The Winter Soldier's entire plot is an argument over the methods to prevent death and crime, but everyone agrees that crime is bad; one of Zuko's big character development moments is when he realizes that the problem with the world isn't the other nations ungratefully rejecting the prosperity and unity offered by the Fire Nation, but that the Fire Nation routinely commits genocide in their quest to colonize the rest of the world.

The issue is when a disagreement over methods is treated like a disagreement over premise. The characters are positioned like one side's entire worldview is correct and the other is wrong, but it turns out they actually disagree with what the other does rather than what the other believes.

A big giveaway that what you're seeing is about methods and not underlying beliefs? If at any point it is said or implied that one character "goes too far." "Too far" implies a point before that cutoff that the other characters or the reader would be okay with. You can't go too far if going any distance in that direction is wrong. "Frollo in the Disney version of The Hunchback of Notre Dame goes too far when he tries to kill all the Romani in the city" implies that the problem isn't racism in general, but mass murder specifically, and that if Frollo was only nonviolently racist, that would be fine!

Like, you know the joke about the guy who offers a woman a million dollars to sleep with him, then ten dollars after she accepts the million dollar offer, and when she's offended and says she's "not that kind of woman," he says, "Oh, we agreed you were that kind of woman, now we're just haggling over price"? If your characters are arguing about the best way to solve a problem, they have already agreed about the existence and nature of the problem. Now they're just haggling over price.

Again: that kind of storyline is okay if you actually do want to discuss extremism v. moderation of the same basic principle. It's okay for two characters to argue over the best way to free all of their country's slaves. It's also okay for two characters to discuss the best way of practicing slavery, if you want to show how ingrained it is in society or how even the character you think is a moderate is still evil or something. What doesn't work is if your intention is to say how awful slavery is, but then the entire conflict is over the treatment of slaves rather than whether slavery is okay.

tl;dr: setting up the conflict as one over premise and then having all the action be a fight over methods undermines your story; at best it's just confusing, at worst it turns your characters into hypocrites.

[kamilah-the-bloodqueen]

Remember Me (4/???)

I AM SO FUCKING SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO FINISH. Honestly I lost a lot of motivation to write after Bloodbound because PB has greatly decreased in the quality of their books. I am still trying to find the time and motivation to write and am forcing myself to finish my series at the very least but if I am being completely honest I feel like the Kamilah fandom has died, PB’s books mostly suck and I don’t even really play choices anymore. Who knows, I’m trying to learn to write the code for episode so maybe I’ll start posting my own stories and choices on that platform with better plot, smut and less diamond focus since it would be a hobby. This chapter is ASS and mostly just moves the plot along - so if you want action I would wait for a different series or later chapter - okay bye!

Pairing: Adrian x MC x Kamilah (Amy)

Tags: I paused the tag list since it’s been so fucking long but if you want a tag please let me know because I’m pretty sure most people think this series died with me :)

Words: ~1500 (Short because I needed to finish a chapter to motivate me to finish the next)

Kamilah took a deep breath as she knelt on the floor beside Adrian, carefully wrapping her arms around her brother, her heart sinking with every sob that left his lips. She didn’t speak, she knew her words would come off too harshly and she couldn’t blame Adrian for feeling that way, after all she knew how much he loved Amy. 

“Adrian, I’m sorry. I...I truly don’t know what to say.” As their eyes met Kamilah saw exactly how devastated he was, and even in her two thousand years of life, she had never been in his situation. 

“Kamilah, do you think she’ll...well she says we’re just friends but do you think she’ll fall in love with me again?” His lips trembled, his hands shaking and his eyes glistened with tears. 

“I don’t know. As much as I believe love is a silly mortal affair, and a simple chemical reaction, it can’t be forced but I’m sure if you just be yourself and do your best to be her friend that any romantic feelings will follow.” Kamilah moved away as Adrian calmed himself, both of them passing a nod of agreement as he wiped his face clean with tissues. 

“Your wisdom has always guided me well Kamilah.” 

“I suppose that is two thousand sixty three years of experience speaking.” 

“Heh, I guess my two hundred years don’t nearly compare...” 

“You’re still a simple child in my eyes, I just took a liking to you.”

“Well, thank you Kamilah. It seems I owe you quite a bit.”

They both stood from the floor and took seats on Adrian’s office couch, Kamilah folding her legs and crossing her arms and Adrian crossing his ankles and folding his arms. 

“We’re practically siblings - you don’t owe me anything. Just try to take care of yourself and well...don’t expect anything from Amy. I’m sure this is difficult for her, difficult is an understatement. I can’t imagine what she’s experiencing.”

“Maybe I’ve been too selfish Kamilah...I’ve been thinking more about what I want from her instead of focusing on if she’s okay or what she wants.” 

“Sometimes it’s alright to be selfish, and I can understand why you felt that way but you are correct, we need to focus on what Amy wants now, not what she wanted before the accident.”

“You’re absolutely right. I can only hope for the best...I just really...I really wanted...I believed she was the one.” 

“I know you did. I wanted her to be the one for you as well, I still hope she comes back to you Adrian.”

“Me too.” 

Adrian’s phone buzzed at the same time Kamilah’s did, Lily having texted both of them to rendezvous with her and Jax at Amy’s old apartment to talk about the recent events. 

“We should go, but do you feel okay?” Kamilah patted Adrian’s shoulder as they both stood from the couch.

“Yes I think so.” They hurried to the elevator and got into Adrian’s black Mercedes as they navigated towards Lily’s apartment. Once they arrived Lily greeted them before guiding them up to the apartment where Jax waited on the couch with a beer in hand.

“Hey guys...how ya doin?” His words were slurred and he was obviously under the influence to a decent extent. 

“Tell me you have something other than beer Lily.” Kamilah grimaced as Jax took another swig of the beer. She had no problem with beer but she hated that brand and would rather remain sober than allow herself to drink that brand. 

“Yeah, vodka or wine?”

“Vodka.” Kamilah spoke without hesitation while Adrian grabbed a beer from the fridge and took a seat next to Jax on the couch. Lily began to pour Kamilah a shot, and once the glass was full Kamilah took the bottle from her and took two large gulps before sitting on the leather chair and holding the bottle with one hand. 

“So we’re here to get drunk? I thought we were supposed to talk about Amy?” Kamilah’s voice broke the deathly silence that filled the room. Adrian leaned in the door before removing his tie, unbuttoning his shirt and, grabbing three bottles of the cheap beer and sinking into the recliner opposite of Lily and Jax. 

“I didn’t want to drink...well grieve...alone. I mean I can’t do this with Amy anymore...well I could but it wouldn’t be the same... and I have my friend back but it’s really just...it’s not the same. I don’t know I just didn’t...you can leave if you want but I didn’t want to grieve alone…” Lily began to sob, her tears falling into her glass of wine as Jax and Adrian frowned. Kamilah held her stoic expression, but even the alcohol could not erase the ache she felt in her chest.

“I see, well I guess we all process grief differently…” Kamilah spoke calmly, but deep down she felt her own sense of grief. As she gazed around she realized how messy Jax’s hair and clothes were, and how exhausted and drained Lily was. “You guys look a mess…”

“Thanks Kamilah.” Jax drunkenly snickered and Lily sniffled. Adrian remained quiet, taking a long drink from the bottle in his hand before switching to the other glass and downing it just as quickly. 

“Does this not fucking hurt you?” Lily drunkenly scolded as Kamilah flinched ever so slightly. None of them had ever heard Lily so fragile, so devastated. She had every reason to be - she had lost her best friend - even though Amy had survived the accident, the memories were all gone and everything they had once shared was gone. 

“It...does...I was just remarking on-”

“I don’t care about your remarks, at least not now. Don’t you fucking get it? I lost my fucking best friend and I have to watch her find everything again! Do you know how that fucking feels Kamilah? I’m sure you do from all your time as a vampire, but please, for the love of god and for the sake of our friendship just shut the fuck up. I can’t handle this.” Lily’s hand gripped on her bottle as it shattered against her palm, the beer pouring onto the tile floor and seeping into the edges of the carpet. 

“I...apologize Lily…”

“It’s fine! It’s fine! Everything is fine I guess. I don’t know I just...I’m not coping well...and I feel guilty for saying that because Amy has it the hardest of us all and yet here I am getting wasted to be in her position - to forget everything while also being the person who put her in this position in the first fucking place. I don’t think it’ll ever be the same as it was before…”

“Maybe that’s for the best…” Adrian finally joined the conversation. Kamilah, Lily and Jax turned to face him as he swirled the bottle around in his hand - his brown eyes shiny from the tears that had built up. “...we all lost someone...Amy was a different person to each of us...but maybe we have to lose that person for some reason…”

“Adrian, do not try to give me that ‘it’s for the best’ bullshit.” Lily took a deep breath as Adrian shrugged. 

“I’m not. I guess it’s just the alcohol talking, but I was going to propose to Amy that night and maybe it was a sign I shouldn’t have, or maybe the world is punishing me for my sins...but fuck all of that...it’s...it’s a forgotten memory and we need to forget just like Amy...”  

---------------- Amy’s POV ------------------

It was a weird feeling that I couldn’t describe. Having people who seemed like strangers tell me all about the things we’ve done together gave me such comfort and anxiety at the same time. I wanted to believe and trust each of them but at the same time, it would be so easy to lie about it. Maybe I’m just being paranoid about the situation - nobody would really benefit from creating an elaborate story just to mess with my mind. 

God this IV really stings...and now that I’m thinking about it, my ribs really hurt too. I should call the doctor or nurse but it’s nearly midnight. I mean it’s their job but they’re humans and I don’t want to be that super needy patient…

At least that Lily girl seems genuine, I can see why I was her best friend. I appreciate her sincerity more than I can verbalize to her. I’m still wary of Jax though - that man looks like he could kill in an instant and I don’t want to get on his bad side. I’m glad they’re friends with each other though - they seem to get along really well and...Adrian. Poor bastard. I broke his heart. I broke his heart and I can’t even help it. How am I supposed to even really process that whole fucking mess. He’s so sweet and gentle and genuine and I can’t even reciprocate it back to him...but maybe with time I could…? But Kamilah...she makes my heart skip a beat too...but she’s so unlike anyone I’ve even taken interest in - callous and stoic most of the time with very few soft spots. It wouldn’t be any type of understatement to claim my heart is as confused as my head. 

[jinkicake]

Fuck No Baby~

Kenma/Sakusa/Tsukishima with a high school pregnancy scare.

Kozume Kenma x Reader

Sakusa Kiyoomi x Reader

Tsukishima Kei x Reader

For Anon,,, I hope you like it!!! Ah~~ This took me so long to write, I don’t even know why LOL. I had fun writing it doe,,,, hopefully I was able to correct any mistakes I made because rereading almost three thousand words over and over again melted my brain ESP bc it was my own words,,, 

WC- 2,765

~~~

Kozume Kenma

Now….. Kenma,,,,, my sweet baby boy. He would know something is wrong with you the minute you start acting differently

He wouldn’t say anything though, not yet, he would just watch you with hawk eyes

He’d analyze everything you do and try to figure out what is upsetting you

Is it school? Your parents? Lev? Himself? What is wrong?

He’d probably ask Kuroo if he noticed anything different about you and, of course, Kuroo who can’t lie would be like “n-no”

When you finally tell Kenma that you think you’re pregnant, Kenma would be like "well how do you know?"

He’d be like “Did you take a test? Did you not get your period? Is it because you were stressed that you didn’t get your period?” And you’d be like ‘uhhhh I didn’t think about all that sir’

Cue Kenma scolding you for being so worrisome, he’d still hold your hand and try to calm you down and go get pregnancy test with you

He’d probably research a lot about pregnancy just to mentally prepare but then you come out with three negative tests and Kuroo is in the background like ‘I KNEW IT’

Then Kenma will get all mad again and ignore the two of you for leaving him out of the loop

Kenma stares at you from behind his psp, his chest tightens at the way you are holding onto Kuroo. Recently, you have been hanging out with your best friend more than your own boyfriend. Kenma normally would not care, he likes that you two hang out and leave him alone but lately it has been irritating him in a way he doesn’t quite understand. It is all the time, you always are with Kuroo instead of him. It’s almost like you two have gotten closer in a way and the insecurities of not being good enough cloud over Kenma’s head. He always knew you and Kuroo got along in ways that he wouldn’t understand, he has seen it growing up with the two of you. He never thought he would have to worry about it though.

“You need to tell him (Y/N).” Kuroo scolds and Kenma feels his ears perk up as he tries to listen in. 


“I’m not telling him,” You stubbornly stick your nose up into the air and Kuroo folds his arms over his chest disapprovingly. 

“If you don’t then I will.” Kuroo threatens and you can hide the betrayal off of your face. “He deserves to know.”


“What the fuck?! What about bro code?” You fumble your words as your heart beats frantically in your chest. 

“(Y/N) this isn’t some little thing you can sweep under the rug, you need to tell him.” Kuroo tells you and you stare at the ground. 

“Fuck off Kuroo, I’m not ready to tell him shit and now I’m not going to tell you anything either.” You frown in frustration and storm off to the gym. Kenma pretends like he didn’t hear any of the conversation but when Kuroo steps in front of him with that knowing sigh, Kenma doesn’t even try to pretend. 

“I don’t know how you put up with her.” Kuroo comments and sits down next to him, Kenma only narrows his eyes at the way he insulted you. Kuroo takes in a deep breath and quietly thinks for a moment. “Fuck, I have to tell you-“


“I don’t want to know.” Kenma tells him and Kuroo spits out in shock. “If she doesn’t want to tell me then I don’t want to know it.”


“Kenma you need to know.” Kuroo starts and Kenma stands up from the ground, wiping his thighs off before glancing down at his friend.

“Then I’ll go ask her.” Kenma walks away and Kuroo holds his hands up defensively, wishing him good luck. Kenma finds you laying against the bleachers, dramatically drawing shapes in the sky with your finger. 

“(Y/N).” Kenma calls out to you and you flinch before closing your eyes. 


“Yes, my love?” You ask innocently and Kenma has to refrain from rolling his eyes. 

“You have something to tell me.” He demands and you open your mouth to deny it however as you do so, the eery familiar sick feeling twitches in your gut and you hold up a finger to silence your boyfriend. “(Y/N),”

“I don’t want you to be disappointed in me.” You start, your throat starts to close up, and Kenma rests his hand over yours. 


“You’ll never disappoint me, you know that.” Kenma reassures you and you bite the inside of your cheek. 

“What if, I was pregnant?” You ask and Kenma flinches at your words. 

“You’re pregnant?” He repeats and you shake your head. 


“I might be, I mean I think I am.” At your words, Kenma pinches your nose and makes it harder for you to breathe. “Your first thought is to kill me?!” You screech.

“Did you even take a pregnancy test or think for a second that maybe your period is just late? Did you even recall that you went on a long plane ride to another country last week and maybe that offset your balance? God, (Y/N) you went to Kuroo with this and not me?” Kenma rants and you guiltily curl in on yourself, you didn’t think about any of that. “I-I’m sorry for getting so upset.” He quickly apologizes and you shake your head. 

“You’re right Kenma, and I’m sorry that I didn’t come to you but I was scared.” You whisper and tears begin to form, Kenma looks at the ground with hurt all over his face. 

“Why?” He asks just as quietly and you shrug. 

“I didn’t want to lose you.”


“You wouldn’t have, you’d never lose me no matter what you do.” Kenma confesses and you grab onto his hand for support, Kenma squeezes you and turns to look at you. His face softens are your watery eyes. “Stop crying.”

The next time you, Kenma, and Kuroo are hanging out it’s because you’re celebrating not being pregnant. There is cake and ice cream and you own up to apologizing to Kuroo for getting so angry with him when he was only trying to do the right thing. Kuroo, of course, forgives you and wasn’t even mad at you in the first place. He suggests a group hug that you happily take but Kenma stands off to the side, slapping both of you upside the head for keeping such a secret from him before taking his place in your arms.

Sakusa Kiyoomi

How does Sakusa even nut? Like I can’t imagine that he likes the gross feeling of cum all over his dick so like how would he use a condom and/or nut inside of you? I was just thinking about it…….. 

Anyway, whenever you try to hide something from Sakusa he always has a way to pry it out of you 

Like he will knock your door down with his mind to get you to face him

When he finds out you think you’re pregnant, he would just be like ‘well, that’s a lot to take in’

He’d go silent and use his very beautiful head to digest your words,

Now Sakusa is usually calm, but right now he isn’t. This man is freaking the fuck out internally as much as Sakusa can freak out 

Externally he is just like ‘oh’, come on you guys really think Sakusa knows anything about pregnancy 

He’d probably suggests taking you to the doctor or going to get you pregnancy tests

I feel like he would be very good at reassuring you that everything is going to be okay even if he isn’t so sure of that himself 

Please, his main concern is how much he would dislike going to the hospital. He is 99.9% sure that you aren’t pregnant and so he probably isn’t too worried about it, he’s more concerned with how upset you are,,

Sakusa scrunches his nose as he walks into your classroom, it’s late in the afternoon after practice and he found you sitting at your desk. You haven’t even shown that you noticed him walking in, you’re still hunched over your desk with your face buried into your arms. Sakusa quietly walks up to you, his footsteps are the only noises in the large room. 


“(Y/N).” He calls out to you, standing right at the edge of your desk. You don’t make any move. Sakusa sighs and pokes your shoulder with his finger. “(Y/N).” He tries again and gets no response, with a heavy sigh Sakusa pinches the collar of your blazer and lifts your face out of your arms. You don’t even try to hide as you emotionlessly stare at the floor, your boyfriend’s eyes widen at your swollen eyes and blotchy face. 


“What’s wrong?” Sakusa asks, he gently rubs smooth circles on your back. You simply shake your head. “Tell me, don’t be difficult.” He pushes and your eyes begin to water again. 

“Just go home Kiyoomi.” You attempt to push him away and Sakusa just feels his irritation growing.

“You poor thing, thinking that is going to work with me.” He continues to stare down at you and even goes as far as pinching your cheek with his fingers. Sakusa’s eyes narrow at your tears spilling on his fingers and has to refrain from grabbing a tissue and wiping it off. Instead, he uses his thumb to wipe the tears off your cheeks, internally grimacing at the feeling. “If you don’t tell me what’s wrong, (Y/N).” He warns and you puff your cheeks.

“Where to start,” You bite at him angrily, your nose scrunches in frustration. “I haven’t gotten my period in like two weeks, I failed a test today, my grades are dropping, you’re being an ass, I might be pregnant, my mother yells at me for breathing wrong, what do you want me to say Kiyoomi?” 

Sakusa takes a moment to digest all your words, his face curls in disgust at the mention of your menstrual blood. 

“Wait, pregnant?” He starts cautiously and you nod bitterly. Sakusa takes you by surprise by leaning down and wrapping his arms around your shoulders to bring you into his chest. “I’m sorry I haven’t been there for you recently and that I have been making things difficult for you.”

Sakusa frowns he notices that even more tears are now streaming down your face. 

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” He tries to reassure you but you only shake your head. “Yes, you are. We will figure this out.” Sakusa grabs your cheek to force you to look at him, it’s a promise. 

On your way out to walk home, Sakusa stops by the bathroom to wash his hands and in turn, you also go to the bathroom. You thought you felt that familiar feeling between your thighs but pushed it off as something else. However when you got to the bathroom and saw the disgusting mess in your panties that you had grown accustomed to over the years you can’t help but scream. 

“(Y/N) w-what’s wrong?!” Sakusa barges into the bathroom and you tap your feet against the tile floor. 

“I got it!!!” You exclaim and Sakusa continues to run his head worryingly. 

“Got what?”


“My period!!!” You’re met with silence and footsteps of your boyfriend retreating out of the bathroom. You still have a lot more to figure out about Sakusa Kiyoomi but you know for a fact that he is going to jump you the second you leave the bathroom.

Tsukishima Kei

Tsukishima…… this brat,,,, as oyakags likes to say ‘Tsucki’ love that genius

He would be relatively calm about the entire situation 


I genuinely think he would handle it well and that is because he can’t believe it

He seriously does not believe there is any way you are pregnant like he doesn’t hit it raw every other day

Tsukki would get you pregnancy tests and hide them in his bathroom, force you to take them while he stands there watching you pee on the stick like 0.0

Please, this bitch is not playing

He’d be so worried about how freaked out you are and would probably make fun of you to try and make you feel better

He would use his humor to calm you down, sneak in insults here and there because it would take your mind off of the whole situation 

“Well, maybe if you weren’t ugly this wouldn’t have happened” “UGLY?! TSUKISHIMA KEI YOU DIDN’T THINK I WAS UGLY WHEN YOU WERE HITTING IT FROM THE BACK RAW LAST NIGHT!”

When the tests come back negative, Tsukishima will have to hold back from tackling you. He’d scold you for being so careless and for worrying him so much, throwing pathetic insults around but it's only because he is so relieved and doesn’t know how to react. Just shut him up and bring him into a hug, little baby needs his love HAHAH

“I think we should break up.”


“Huh?” Tsukishima looks up from his textbook, his eyebrows furrowed as he glares at where you sit on his bed. You don’t look at him and instead focus on his dinosaur figurines along the walls. 

“It would be better if we broke up, we are both always so busy anyway, not to mention we are going to different colleges in a few months.” You shrug and try to ignore the way your eyes prick with tears, Tsukishima places his textbook down and turns his chair around to face you. His face is hard, had this been two years ago Tsukishima would have let you go without a second glance. Now though? After all you’ve been through, now you want to break up? Yeah, no.

“We’re going to college in the same city, busu, and last I checked you never wanted to break up.” Tsukishima mocks your voice as he repeats the words you say to him late at night whenever you think he is asleep. “Is this some sort of April fool’s prank?” He asks and turns back to his desk. 

“No, I-I don’t want to be with you anymore!” You tell him, voice raising slightly, and Tsukishima has to pretend like his heart didn’t just crack a little bit.

“Right,” He shoos your words away with a flick of his wrist. “I’m not letting you break up with me.” His words should make you feel happy, and deep down they do but not now, instead, they only make you cry. You cover your face with your hands and let out the sob that had been creeping up in your throat. At your cries Tsukishima stiffens and pushes his schoolwork away, almost immediately he walks over to his bed and stands over your curled up form. “You really hate me this much?” He tries to laugh but his words come out bitterly. You shake your head profusely at him.

“You’re going to hate me.” You cry and your shoulders shake with each sob and Tsukishima tilts his head at you. 

“(Y/N), you know I already hate you.” Tsukishima jokes, he is really trying his best to comfort you, he’s rubbing your shoulder and letting you know he is there for you by standing close to you. Fuck, he doesn’t know what he is doing. 

“I-I think I’m pregnant.” You yell out and Tsukishima stiffens, quickly taking his hand off of you like you burned him. 

“Huh?” He pauses and blinks before leaving the room. You start to think he ran away and that thought only makes you cry harder. Tsukishima comes back not even a minute later and throws a box at you. 

“Don’t make assumptions, idiot.” He scolds and you pick up the box and squint at it with watery eyes.

“What is this?” You ask him and Tsukishima scoffs before walking over to you, he grabs your wrist and pulls you into his chest to walk you towards the bathroom. 

“It’s a box of pregnancy tests, Akiteru’s girlfriend left them last month.” Tsukishima gags at the thought of his older brother and longtime girlfriend, he did not need that image in his head. You continue to sniffle as tears stream down your face and Tsukishima sits you down on the ledge of his bathtub. “You’re okay, why are you crying? I’m right here. You’re fine (Y/N).” 

Tsukishima was right, you really were fine. All the tests came back negative and you got your period a week later. However, Tsukishima never let you live it down and has been scolding you ever since for being so careless. He’s just mad you made him worry so much~

~

Taglist.

@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy @xhanjisungiex @xxashshs @chaosamu @angelkogane @augustdearly

[ibuproffie]

1. take notes every time you’re in lecture, and on applicable readings. so many people say that they’re bad at taking notes...when they NEVER take notes. taking notes is like any skill; the only way you get better is with time and practice. once you take notes consistently, you will develop a style of notetaking that works for you. 

2. rewriting your notes is valid. i see a lot of studyblrs and studygrams talk about how they never rewrite notes and that rewritten notes are a waste of time. i don’t agree. i think rewriting your notes can be an effective study method, provided you do it as soon as possible after the material is covered in class. not only does rewriting your notes make them neater, which can be nice if you have hard to read handwriting, but rewriting your notes lets you actively review material to solidify gaps in your understanding, rather than passively reading over the notes. of course, don’t do it just for the aesthetic, but i rewrite most of my notes and i’m okay with it.

3. handwriting your notes > typing your notes, in most cases. some people genuinely need to type notes and that is okay too. but most studies show that typing notes in lecture means they’re less effective at helping you remember the information covered. this is because when you type your notes, you’re more likely to copy down the information verbatim because most people type faster than they can write. when you handwrite your notes, you have to pick and choose what to write down because you can’t go quite as fast, and you are more likely to convey the information in your own words. if you like the convenience of digital notes but want to handwrite for better retention, consider taking your notes on a tablet with a program like goodnotes, which lets you handwrite with a stylus. but good old fashioned pen and paper works just as well if not better! i’m a pen and paper stan myself. 

4. functionality is more important than aesthetic. you don’t need to own any specific type of stationery to take good notes. maybe you don’t live near a muji store, maybe you like ballpoint pens better than gel pens, or maybe you just can’t be bothered to buy “aesthetic” stationery when what you can find at dollar tree works fine. that’s okay! purchasing specific stationery items won’t necessarily get you better grades. it’s really all about how you’re taking the notes. similarly, you really shouldn’t feel the need to worry about drawing elaborate diagrams, putting calligraphy titles on every lecture, or having the best handwriting when you take your notes. if these things help you learn or motivate you to study, that’s great, but you shouldn’t feel pressured to have “fancy” notes if it doesn’t suit your learning style.

5. for humanities classes, focus on concepts. for stem classes focus on examples. you kind of have to shift gears when you’re taking notes for different types of classes. in stem classes, understanding how to apply the concept is paradoxically much more important than having a super great understanding of the definition of the concept. so if your lecturer is working through a really long example, that’s not an excuse to zone out because you’ve already written down what the definition of the concept is. memorizing the pythagorean theorem is useless if you have no idea how to apply it. for your humanities classes, define as many key terms in your notes as you can if you don’t know what to take notes on. i’m grossly oversimplifying here, but you can kind of think of these classes as vocabulary courses where you’re looking to really understand what the words mean. you can later go back in and add examples. 

6. for faster notetaking, use a highlighter, a quick drying pen, and correction tape. fancy gel pens might feel nice, but when you are taking notes in a fast paced lecture, waiting for them to dry so your notes don’t smudge can be a real hassle. i would honestly recommend using a ballpoint, felt tip pen, or quick-drying gel pen as an alternative, even though these maybe aren’t as “aesthetic.” if you make a mistake, go for correction tape over correction fluid, because you don’t have to wait for it to dry and you can write immediately on top of it. if you like to add color to titles or key words, use a highlighter instead of a colored pen, as this is a lot faster than switching between pens.

7. don’t make your color-coding too complicated. i don’t use a strict color code for my notes because it’s not really practical for me, but i do like to add color to their notes, especially when it comes to memorizing specific types of information. if this is a tactic you’re considering trying out, i would recommend that you keep it very simple. try to limit it to three colors max. too much more than that and you’re liable to mess it up and get confused. you want the colors in your notes to simplify them, not make the information more difficult to digest.

8. focus on what the lecturer is saying, not what’s written on the slides or handouts. you’re not going to lecture to read powerpoint slides; you’re going to learn what the lecturer has to say, so if the lecture is going really fast, focus on the things that they’re saying rather than the presentation. this may feel counterintuitive, but most lecturers provide slides/other supplementary materials prior to lecture or after the lecture, and if they don’t, you can always send an email and ask. if you find yourself mindlessly writing down the info from the presentation or handouts and then zoning out, consider printing out the slides prior to class and annotating them with the lecturer’s comments. if they’re good at lecturing, most of the information probably won’t be on the slides anyway. remember, a lecture is a one time thing. you can always get the slides later obviously, this has changed a little in the time of rona because a lot of lectures are recorded for you to watch later, but i still think this is relevant because i don’t think anyone wants to go back and rewatch a zoom lecture because they weren’t paying attention!

9. organize your notes in a way that makes sense to you. you want your notes in a central location when it comes time for that final! maybe you want to have separate notebooks for every class, or maybe one binder or notebook with multiple sections. maybe you want to date your notes or title them so you can remember specifically at a glance what is covered in each section. maybe you want to mark up your notes with page flags so you can easily flip to the most important sections. how you organize your notes is up to you, but it’s important to have some kind of system so you can study them with ease. 

10. for notes on readings, summarize, summarize, summarize! if you have readings you want to take notes on, it’s not necessary that you copy down every single fact or key term. this will take forever, and more often than not, you will burn yourself out. instead, try to summarize what you’re reading in your head. try to write every paragraph as one or two sentences. this will force you to put the reading into your own words-active learning again-rather than painstakingly writing down extraneous information. 

[x-reader-fanfics]

Heyyyy :) I saw your last post w dataxreader, and I was wondering if you’d do another? I LOVED it 😍 maybe one where reader and data aren’t in a relationship yet, but he gets super jealous when someone hits on reader, and then mutual feelings come to light? Eeeek thank you, and if u don’t wanna do this one right away I understand cause u just did one, but thank u anyway, and I love your writing ♥️

🖤 Malfunction 💛

Summary: When a new Ensign takes a romantic interest in you, a new light begins to shine on the seemingly simple relationship between you and your closest friend Data.

Requests are open!

~x~

Data had always preferred working with you.

You understood the nuances of his coding and his odd personality in ways no other officer ever had. Where most would have been confused and perhaps even discomforted by his unusual behavior, you had always found it fascinating, even going so far as telling him it was charming.

“I like hearing things from your perspective. You say such wonderful things, Data.” You had laughed, bumping his elbow with your own as you and him worked for hours side by side.

You were his partner, the completing half of his equation. No one else would get the question right. He needed you, and you needed him.

“Good morning, Data.” You smiled warmly, sliding into his side as you began your shifts together as you always had, greeting him the same way you always had before, kind and soft.

“Good morning, (F/N).” He welcomed you back, cordial and quiet.

Mornings were the moments you always shared together, the small smiles and quick touches which insinuated more but never dared to be recognized aloud.

“I barely slept last night.” You sighed deeply, gently resting your head against his shoulder as your eyes fluttered shut. You reminded him of the Renaissance angels he had often seen in ancient Earth paintings. He should do a painting of you.

“Perhaps a visit to Dr. Crusher would be beneficial.” Data commented idly, refusing to move even slightly, hoping it might persuade you to keep your head buried in the crook of his neck for even a millisecond longer.

Touching you was right. Being with you was right. It was unexplainable, but it was akin to answering a complicated question correctly, or finishing a long project. It was what he had been made to do.

“Hey beautiful.” An unknown voice interrupted Data’s rampant thoughts, causing his golden eyes to flicker toward this intruder into you and his peaceful morning.

“Oh. Hey, Brad.” You slightly sighed, bowing your head politely at him before returning to your work.

“A couple of friends and I are having a party tonight at Ten Forward. I’d love for you to be there.” He grinned, his smile all teeth and his eyes shimmering a bit too brightly.

“A party in Ten Forward. I had not heard of this before now.” Data easily inserted himself into the conversation, cocking his head as he stared questioningly at the Ensign.

“Oh, uh, yeah.” Brad rubbed his neck awkwardly, clearly uncomfortable around the android. “There’ll be girls there too. If you’re even into that sort of thing…”

Data missed your eyes shooting towards his, a hopeful but anxious look dancing across your face. You had wanted to admit your feelings to your friend for months now, but your anxieties about his own feelings had always held you back. How could he possibly be interested in other people in such a way? He didn’t even have emotions.

“Tell your friends I will be there.” He smiled, over-animatedly winking as he returned to his work, a small but proud smile on his face. He needed to watch over you and make sure this Brad didn’t try anything which might make you uncomfortable. You were his partner to care for, he nodded satisfactorily within his head, as if needing to justify his abnormal behavior to himself.

You could feel your heart shatter. Data wanted to go to Brad’s stupid party? To pick up girls? You were planning on simply turning the man down and having a quiet night in, but now that Data was going…

“Well you can count me in too.” You had to force yourself to smile, fighting the urge to gag at the way Brad licked his lips and winked at your response. He sauntered away like the cat who had caught the canary, your hands itching to strangle him as you twisted back to your work station, a cheesy smile still plastered to your face.

“Are you interested in Brad sexually?” Data asked with a pleasant smile.

Your mouth fell open, your breath flooding out of you as a wild blush stained your cheeks, hot and embarrassing. You didn’t know what to say, you couldn’t even breathe!

“W-Why’s any of that your business!” You half-shouted, darting away before he could pry any deeper.

You couldn’t handle it if Data found out you were in love with him.

Ah. Data mused, each and every one of his circuits freezing on one overly-simple thought. It would appear you loved him.

~x~

You hadn’t spoken to Data all day. You were too ashamed to even consider facing him. Running away in the middle of your shift because of your personal feelings was not something a professional Starfleet officer did.

“If I may be so bold,” A familiar voice began, soft and warm in its cantor, “You are positively ravishing this evening.”

Data stood before you, an out-of-character smirk striking daringly across his face as he took your hand in his, lightly grazing his lips against your knuckles.

“Data!” You gasped, barely able to keep yourself from becoming a melted mess.

“What are we doing talking over here when we could be dancing over there?” He smirked, grabbing your waist as he pulled you by the hand towards the dance floor, a grace to his every step.

“What happened to you Data?” You asked, practically breathless.

“I downloaded some new personalities appropriate for such an event.” He dipped you low, brushing his nose against yours as he started deeply into your eyes. “Are you enjoying me?”

You couldn’t help but laugh then, carefree and dripping with affection.

You loved this man.

“Yes, Data. I always enjoy you.” You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck right in the middle of the dance floor.

Data felt accomplished. Everything was as it should be. You were always meant to be with him, and no one else. It was just what made sense.

You were his closest friend.

“Data, there’s something I’ve always wanted to tell you, but I’ve never really been able to.” You grasped his hand tighter in yours, unable to remove your eyes from the floor.

“What is it?” He asked, patient and quiet.

“Pardon to interrupt, but I couldn’t let you keep this beauty all to yourself for the whole night.” Brad smiled confidently, bending his face closer to yours as he attempted to slide between you and Data.

Data refused to budge, pulling you closer against his body. He barely stopped himself from shoving the Ensign across the room.

What was going through his systems? The more Brad talked to you the more Data wanted to never see his face again. The closer Brad got to you the closer Data needed to be to you instead, as if to reassure himself of something.

Any smiles you afforded Brad were meant to be his. He didn’t want you to look at anyone but him.

But such thoughts could only be defined as possessiveness. Something Data knew was inappropriate for friendships.

He released you, giving you one last glance before quickly leaving Ten Forward. He couldn’t bear to see his hands on you, to see the love which would pour out of your eyes for the handsome human, something Data could never compare to.

People did not fall in love with androids.

Even as his system screamed at him to correct things, to take you in his arms and kick Brad halfway back to Earth, he refused to listen. With some simple rewiring he could set his head back on straight.

You were his friend. Somewhere along the way his pathways must have set the wrong link down, convincing himself you might be something more.

His feelings for you were nothing more than a malfunction.

You watched as Data stormed away, confused and hurt by his behavior. One moment he looked ready to clock Brad and the next he was almost throwing you at him.

Did he think you wanted the slime bag?

“He’s never not said goodbye to me.” You muttered almost to yourself, staring after your best friend.

“Maybe he just forgot to.” Brad joked, grabbing you by the hips. “Let’s stop talking about that android and start talking about us.”

You scoffed at him, harshly shoving him away as you ran after Data. You were going to tell him no matter what it took, everyone else on this ship be damned.

You eventually found him in Keiko O’Brien’s garden, his face almost forlorn as he gently caressed an orchid in full bloom.

“Data?” You asked quietly, not wishing to startle him even though you knew that was impossible.

He turned his head to yours, almost in disbelief. “Where is Brad?”

“I don’t know, he’s nobody I’m concerned about.” You stated clearly, stepping towards him. He was so tall, the way he gazed down upon you with such genuine confusion causing you to smother a giggle.

“I do not understand, but it is not a topic I wish to hear more about.” He admitted, returning to his flower.

“And why is that?” You asked hopefully, bunching your dress between your fingers.

He glanced back at you, face blank as he simply contemplated himself, the color of your hair and the look on your face enough to push him over the edge.

“Because I am malfunctioning.” He said simply, stock still as he waited for your response.

You took his hand in your own, holding it as gently as a bird as you squeezed it to your chest. “What if I told you I was malfunctioning too?”

His brows furrowed across his face. “Then we must see Dr. Crusher at once!”

Your jaw dropped, disbelief to the point of amusement dancing across your face as you watched the worry on his face slowly seep into bewilderment.

“I’m not talking about my health, Data.” You laughed, sliding your fingers against his scalp as you pressed your body flush to his. “I’m telling you I’m in love with you.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Before you could react he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, pressing his lips against yours hard enough to bruise. He wanted you so badly in that moment he had forgotten to restrain himself, pressing against you fervently as he began to kiss the corner of your mouth, sucking and biting his way to your neck.

He couldn’t believe you would say such a thing to him, that you would allow him to do this. It was such a thrilling and new interaction he couldn’t get enough of it.

Without hesitation he pulled your flesh between his teeth, proudly marking you as his as he bruised your neck.

“Data…” You moaned, unable to do anything but limply hold onto him, knowing he would never let you fall.

“My (Y/N).” He whispered happily against your hickey, giving it a quick kiss, before standing back up properly, still refusing to release you from his hold.

Your whole body felt like jelly. Just from a few kisses Data had swooned you off your feet.

“You are so handsome.” You sighed, not knowing anything else to say but exactly what had been on your mind since you had first met the android.

“And you are so beautiful.” He murmured back gently, knowing he would spend the rest of his life saying those words.

[harrin-king]

a continuation of this post/head canon from a few months ago. i might write a part 2 to this, we’ll see. 

It wasn’t their best thought out plan. Nancy Wheeler wasn’t the first person in Hawkins to sigh out a “You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington” and she certainly wouldn’t be the last. Not when the idiot in question never seemed to think that there was any plan too reckless or too foolish or too downright ridiculous to enact in order to see someone he liked. 

Or loved. Or whatever. 

But maybe Billy was an idiot too because he didn’t say no when Steve proposed it. Rolled his eyes, yes. Scoffed, sure. But he didn’t say no. And it’s worked for them thus far- reckless, foolish, downright ridiculous thing that it was. 

When Billy steps out of the shower, it’s into a small bathroom spilling over with steam. Practice was strenuous this afternoon, Coach working them far past exhaustion in preparation for the semi finals game on Friday. And the showers at school are lukewarm at best, not to mention that using them means having to avoid so much as glancing at Steve so. Billy opted to shower at home. It’s not like Max or Susan shower at this time of day anyway.  

It’s almost time for dinner by the time he’s toweled off and put on sweatpants, laid his hair meticulously so it’ll dry right. He walks into the kitchen, smelling a stew or a roast or whatever the hell Susan made and he’s almost smiling.

But then Billy sees his father’s car keys hanging on the hook by the door and he turns his head to the living room where Neil is toeing off his boots- neither him nor Billy have quite adjusted to Susan’s request that they take off their shoes by the front door- and smiling tightly at Max while she halfheartedly tells him about school. Both of them look like they’d rather be anywhere else, but Neil is firm in his belief that they act like a family. Who they’re performing for, none of them know.

Susan, frazzled from the stress of cooking, calls from the kitchen then. “Dinner will be in five minutes! Billy, Maxine, did we get any messages today?”

Max looks to Billy, who only shrugs. He’s been in the shower almost the entire time he’s been home. Max huffs and walks to the telephone and it’s attached answering machine. “I’ll check, mom.”

“...Mother.” She corrects, after a pointed looked from Neil. Max rewinds the tape and hits play, then goes back to the homework she was working on before Neil got home.

There’s a brief message from Mrs. Henderson for Susan, requesting that she come over for coffee one afternoon, insisting that “Us mothers gotta stick together!”

Billy doesn’t have to look at his father to see the scowl on his face. Neil doesn’t like a lot of things. Not Max being friends with boys and certainly not his wife being friends with those boy’s mothers.

The next message begins to play, the speaker’s voice initially sending warmth through Billy’s chest, and then panic that he tries to mask with indifference.

“Hello, this is Kent Clarke from Bradley’s Big Buy. I’m calling the residents of the fine town of Hawkins to remind everyone about our super savers 15% off sale this weekend,” the call begins.

Max, no longer focusing on her work, narrows her eyes up at Billy, who’s doing everything to avoid her gaze. If he meets her eyes, the alarm on his face will be too clear. Or worse, he’ll be unable to keep from laughing at the caller’s pitiful attempt to sound like an adult.

“- If you have questions about opening a super savers card, give us a call at 260-867-5309. Thank you, and have Bradley’s Big Day!”

Billy exhales, chances flitting his eyes Neil’s way to see his reaction. He only grits his teeth, mutters. “Another one of those damn calls. How do these people keep getting our number?”

Even though the question was rhetorical more than anything, Billy says, “Must be a small town thing. This never happened in California.”

Neil’s been tamer recently. Less vile. So instead of insisting his son tack a “sir” onto the end of his sentence, or glaring at him for speaking in the first place, he only nods. Says, “Must be,” and heads to the table for dinner, Max and Billy trailing behind him.

But not without having their own silent conversation behind his back, which translates roughly to a What the ever living fuck? on Max’s end and a faux innocent No idea. on Billy’s.

Because it is not a small town thing. If Neil or Susan were to ask any of their neighbors if they received calls from Bradley’s Big Buy or Family Video or The Hawk promoting sales, they’d be given a confused expression and a shake of the head.

No, it was not their best thought out plan. But Steve was distraught over Billy’s insistence that he not call the house. He wanted the ability to request Billy’s attention when he forgot to ask for it at school, when a lack of time or too many listening ears prevented him from planning something with Billy in advance.

It was bad enough, he said, that Billy refused to let him sneak in through his window, or even come near Cherry Lane.

So one afternoon, high and half joking, Steve had said he could call the Hargrove house pretending to be someone else. If Billy answered and said it was safe, then they could talk normally. If Neil answered or the call got sent to the answering machine, Steve could change his voice and impersonate different businesses or people. They could have a code so that Billy would know what he was trying to say.

The High School’s “Event Coordinator” (a nonexistent title for a nonexistent position) calling to inform families about a dance or a new club meant that Steve would be parked down the road later, tucked into an alley and waiting for Billy to come kiss him or fuck him in the car for a few minutes, an hour.

Neighborhood Watch giving a warning about suspicious activity in the area meant that Steve was having one of his days. That he was feeling heavy, that he couldn’t get out of bed, that maybe he hadn’t slept in a few nights because of nightmares that Billy still didn’t know the contents of.

Billy has only gotten that call once and had left his house as soon as he could, not even waiting for nightfall and the convenience of leaving without questions from Neil. He’d made an excuse about a group project he’d forgotten to meet at the library for and hightailed it to Steve’s, holding him and stroking his hair until sleep finally came.

That was the last time Steve had called this late, at a time when he’d know Neil would be home from work. He generally doesn’t risk it otherwise. The code was to protect them from the off chance of Billy’s father answering. Calling at 6:00pm on a weekday was for emergencies.

A call about a store’s sale meant that Steve missed him, that he wanted to see him. That he wanted Billy to sneak out and meet him at their usual spot at the junkyard.

Which was very much not an emergency. Very much did not warrant a 6:00pm call. Still, Billy couldn’t help but grin despite himself. There was something about Neil listening to the voice of the boy who fucked and kissed and held and loved the son Neil couldn’t beat the queer out of, and not even knowing it.

Dinner dragged on. Helping Max with the rest of her homework lasted an eternity, maybe an eternity plus one with all of the withering looks Max was giving him.

Of course Max recognized Steve Harrington’s voice. Because Steve Harrington was an idiot and this plan wasn’t well thought out and they were reckless and foolish and downright ridiculous.

But when 10:00pm rolled around and the light leaching out from under Neil and Susan’s bedroom door switched off, Billy snuck out of his window.

To go see about this Super Savers Sale at Bradley’s Big Buy.

[mashedpotittiess]

Games of Tomorrow

Header created by my muse and bb R. Title: Games of Tomorrow. Pairing: Taehyung x Reader. Mentions of: Hoseok, Jin, Subin (Victon) and OC’s Summary: A simple game of beer pong stirred up some not so innocent feelings between you and the man you held much disdain for. After all, he was your enemy. The person you couldn’t seem beat when it came to grades. You were never enough for the rich and popular but maybe just maybe you’d show them what you were all about.  Words: 13k Rating: M  Genre: Enemies to Lovers!au, College au!, Smut, Fluff, Angst.

This was all inspired by this photo which I just edited (color, background and the text)so all original photo credits go to the owner.

A/N: What started as a simple short drabble ended in this much longer than intended fic. This is my first pic so pls be gentle. I am but a noob to tumblr writing. I hope you enjoy this craziness <3 this fic is dedicated to my friend who picked Tae to be the first character I wrote about and sat there and listened to me freaking out cause the fic kept getting longer. Ily R. This is Un-Edited so i apologize in advance for the mistakes. I’ll re-read it and fix mistakes as i come across them. Tags/Warnings: Smutty smut smut, Jealousy, Drinking, Mention of Marijuana, Oral (female receiving) Fingering (female receiving), Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids) Fluff, Angst, Size kink, Tae mentioning his DIG BICK, semi rough sex (not really though).

Fic inspired Playlist Link:

spotify:playlist:77Hd51hVnDHe8Q9JaLxGbD

Taglist: @a-mess-of-fandoms @dnyad

—————————————

“Absolutely not” you said calmly into the cellphone receiver. “But y/n! You need to let loose once in awhile, and no I’m not talking about sitting on your couch eating bowls of Ramen and cheese popcorn while watching re-runs of Boy Meets World with a big glass of too much Whiskey” Layla practically whined. She had been trying to convince you to go with her to Seokjin’s party on Saturday for an entire hour. She was right, you knew this coming weekend you’d be plopped onto that same blue couch in your big band t-shirt and fuzzy socks doing exactly that. “I’ll think about it” you finally mumbled out and could practically hear the smile in your best friends voice as she exclaimed a ‘woot woot’ “Okay Hot Stuff, i’ll text you later, gotta get to Volleyball Practice” with that she hung up and you continued your walk to what you’d call a ‘Headache’ of a class.  It’s not that you hated Econ per say, it’s that you studied your ass off, completed extra credit assignments with a flourish and took wonderfully color coded notes (if you say so yourself). But yet, HE still scored higher than you (even if it was just by one point) and what’s worse is that he NEVER seemed to study, never seemed to care.  Trudging into class you took your usual seat in the second row close to the middle. Organizing your laptop, books and assortment of pencils and pens on the table. As Professor Carmine began his lesson writing “Principles of Economics” onto the whiteboard with his usual navy blue marker, you diligently took notes and nodded along with his rhetorical questions.  “Before we end for today lets see who can answer this simple yet intriguing question, “Would you consider Inflation or Deflation of cost cycles to be more costly to a business?” You pondered on how to word your answer for about two seconds before raising your hand. “Yes Ms. Y/L/N” you shifted in your seat slightly. “While I know this question has no definite answer as it can be interpreted many ways, I would say with our current Economy, Inflation of prices would be more costly,” Before you could continue you heard a Deep Baritone voice that you knew too well scoff. “So you think Deflation would benefit a business? that’s essentially lowering your prices which in turn leads to loss of income” You rolled your eyes nonchalantly and turned around in your seat to look at the man in the fourth row who had not only interrupted you but disagreed and voiced his disagreement.  “I said with our current economy Inflation could hurt a business. Do you think regular people can afford to buy a $3,000 purse when they make minimum wage? It could cost a company to make said purse for $200 with cost of material and labor. If you lower those prices by a fraction, said company would still be making money and you could possibly have more demand as more people with regular paying jobs can afford you buy said purse. If you higher the price less  regular people can afford such a luxury item which could hurt the demand. Thus causing an issue with the income for a business”. You said staring at the red haired man pulling a cock of his right eyebrow from him. “Regular people don’t need a $3,000 bag, you want brands to lower the prices so poor people can buy their items? How sad. Tae is right, just higher the prices and get more money. Businesses will make their money regardless of the lower or middle class purchasing their items, as long as they have people like us,” a high pitched voice you recognized as Nami said gesturing to herself and the perfect barbies next to her “buying from them”. Before you continue the alarm from your Professors phone startled you and signaled the end of not only your Monday class but your discussion as well. You picked up your items, shoving them in your bag and trudged out of class. As you passed Taehyung with Nami, Michelle, Hoseok and Gigi at his back he smirked at you and you swore you heard Nami giggling ‘Bet she’s never even held a Chanel bag in her hands. she just wants everybody to be ratchet like people like her’. Smiling to yourself you turned around and flipped them the bird “At least I don’t have to go crying to daddy to buy me a new set of tits, I make my own money and work hard for it. Something you wouldn’t know a thing about, and THAT is what I find sad about your entailed fake ass”. your voice carrying through the hall as you turned back around and made your way back to your dorm. ——————————————— “You know what day it is? TACO Tuesday” You exclaimed while taking a shot of Jose Cuervo and stirring your meat to ensure its cooked properly. Your roommate Casey giggled and Layla downed a shot with you while blasting a Pitbull song. After plating your dinner of carne picada tacos topped with all your usual veggies and homemade Salsa you smiled while your friends posted pics to their instas, Captioning “BB y/n made us food”.  “I still can’t believe you told Nami her tits were fake” Casey giggled while shoving a fistful of popcorn into her mouth. “y/n said her tits and her ass were fake” Layla corrected and you smiled at your dorky friends. “She deserved it, nothing I said wasn’t true. You all were sprawled out on the couch pilled high with fluffy blankets watching a random episode of The Nanny and laughing at random jokes Layla said while scrolling through her Insta feed. “OOOOOOh Valeria is getting ice cream with Subin” Casey practically pouted at the post and you sighed knowing your roommates crush on Valeria which did not go unseen by Layla, causing a metaphorical lightbulb to go off in her head. “You know Casey, Valeria is going to be at Jin’s party on Saturday” Casey being held buzzed sat up catching the bait and worried her bottom lip “Is she?” Layla nodded “This could be your chance to get a fistful of all that Latina, metaphorically and not so metaphorically” she crudely added with a wiggle of her eyebrows and you literally face palmed at your best friends words. Instead of being equally gassed out, Casey however downed her coke and stood up triumphantly “It’s time I tell her!” Layla stood up with her screaming a loud ‘yaaaaas queen’ and both pairs of eyes looked towards you sitting their nursing your Sprite. “What?” you questioned and immediately regretted when both girls practically jumped on you, squishing you between their bodies. “I can’t confess without knowing you and Layla are both there” Casey pouted her soft pink colored lips causing you to shake your head. “You do not need me there while you confess to your crush.”  “But what if it goes bad? what if she rejects me, or worse; makes fun of me? What if i need to leave and I’m crying and I have snot everywhere an-“ Before she could continue you sighed and covered her mouth with your right hand. Nodding you stood up and smiled at both girls “Fuck it, Let’s get your Girl!” you knew Casey had liked her for literally an entire year and you knew you’d feel like shit if you weren’t there supporting your friend as she bared her heart. “I’m only doing this for you though, so know that I love you.” ——————————————— While the rest of the week you were dreading the party Saturday knowing Nami, Taehyung and the other were going to be there, it was Thursday night that was the straw that broke the Camels back. You had just finished returning your copy of Ulysses when you passed Nami practically hanging on the redhead talking about her Angel costume for Seokjins party. Rolling your eyes as you passed you stopped as you heard her ask “What are you rolling your eyes about? This is a private conversation” she flipped her hair over her left shoulder and you yet again rolled your eyes. “This is a public hallway, which means anything you say that can be heard by others can in fact get a response be it verbal or physical by someone other than the intended person in the conversation.” You were just about to turn around when she hmmphed “Whatever, mind your own business” turning around you were met with Layla jogging towards you. “Hot Stuff, what are we going to wear to the party? I’m thinking Doja Cat from the ‘Juicy’ MV, omg you should be -“ Before your best friend could continue, Nami stepped towards you with her arms crossed. “And how did someone like you, get an invitation?” punctuating the ‘you’ she pointed at you. “Jin and I are both on the Volleyball team” Layla stated and turned towards you “And he said I can bring whoever I wanted.” “I still don’t know why you hang around people like her” she once again pointed to you with her baby pink manicured index finger. You knew Layla had money and could very well fit in with their group. You sometimes felt like you were her downfall, the anchor to her social climb. But she always reassured you that she hated people like Nami and never understood why out of everyone, she hated you in particular for the passed two years. “Maybe because she’s my BEST friend, whoever gets invited to the party doesn’t involve you Nami. It’s JINS party, not yours.” Layla shook her head and you bit your bottom lip while curling your fists at your sides trying to calm yourself down.”Maybe she should be Donkey from Shrek, or maybe an edgy emo kid from 2010 with her ugly tattoos” Nami smirked and you heard Taehyung ‘who was scrolling on his phone let out a light laugh, his deep baritone further fueling Nami’s ego. “Have you ever even been to a party? like have you ever even left you dorm for something other than classes and your jobs” she sneered at the words jobs. “You should just reconsider coming, people like YOU don’t belong. People like YOU really should know your place” Your jaw visibly ticked “Seems like you have an obsession with anything my best friend does, is this like you having a big lesbian crush on her?” Layla said while placing a hand on your shoulder and doing her best Janice from Mean Girls impression. Before Nami could say anything back Taehyung nodded out a “Guess we will see you there then, bye Layla, bye y/n” turning to leave. Nami rolled her eyes and checked her phone “Not like it’ll matter what you wear, wait, OMG you should soo wear a ghost costume, it would suit you. Get it? cause you’ll be invisible and you don’t belong” then turned around, her yellow heels clacking against the tile as she following Taehyung down the hall cackling. “I still don’t know why she’s always hated you of all people? like it’s been two years of the same thing with her. I honestly don’t know how you haven’t hit her. I’ve seen you fight” She smiled and grabbed your hand, holding it while you all made your way down the hall, which made you smile and let out a small giggle at her comment about you fighting. She knew about your childhood and how you practically lived at you neighbors boxing gym to let off steam as a stress reliever. You had agreed to find a suitable costume as rage filled you from Navi’s moments and Taehyung’s lack of interest in the matter. (not that you would’ve expected much from him)

As you scanned the rows of costumes hung on the wall neatly you waited by the changing room while Layla and Casey tried on their costumes. “I think i’ll just go with this one” Casey smiled softly while twirling in her peter pan costume, her blond bob swishing lightly. “It’s so cute!” you hugged her and turned to see Layla emerging with a shake of her head “This isn’t giving me enough Doja Vibes”. You let out a hmm and pulled the pink/red mid length wig from your left and threw her a pair of red tights telling her to go put those on while you scoured the items on the racks.  Layla finally emerged from the dressing room after you finished giving her the scattered pieces you had found. Clutching the green watermelon rind skirt, she twirled around in the same manor Casey did earlier and shook her pinky/red bandeau covered chest at you. After tightening the green suspenders that were connected to the skirt she smirked “Now it’s your turn Babe, and Casey and i are paying” before you could interrupt her she continues “not buts! You agreed to find a costume” Shaking your head you said a chorus of “No’s” vehemently at every option she held in front of you. “Y/n you need something to accentuate how hot you are! make her eat her words” you huffed and shook your head “Naughty Nerd is not the way to go Nami” Hanging the customer back on the rack she mumbled a “she said nerd so i figured hot nerd would be well, hot”. You grabbed a simple Witch costume that consisted of a mid length purple dress and a black hat with matching stockings, something low key but still a costume. Before you could go pay for it Layla grabbed your hand and stopped you. “No, y/n that isn’t enough, plays were paying” she pointed to herself and Casey who nodded.  “Layla I don’t want to draw anymore attention to myself, I don’t need to look “hot” cause I’m not. I’m just a regular person who isn’t enough for these people. I’ll never be or do enough” You look down at your right arm and traced the intricate patterns of your black and white peonies and hibiscus that lined your inner arm. Your friends had never seemed you look so vulnerable, and something in Layla snapped.  “She called you invisible and said you weren’t enough but guess what? She knows all about you makes sure you’re always uncomfortable around them. Which means she sees you as a threat”. you bit your bottom lip at her words “She has called you ugly, ratchet ‘which who says that anymore, poor, insignificant and she made fun of you working your ass off to pay your tuition because your deadbeat parents can’t do shit for you. You’re the smartest person in class, you’ve got street smarts and fuck man, you can literally kick a grown mans ass. Remember when those guys were grabbing Casey at the club and you stood up for her and literally fought two of them and won? Little miss prissy bitch couldn’t stand a 5 secs with that y/n. I know you don’t bother with fighting her cause you’re afraid of her connections and getting kicked out of school but fuck y/n grow some balls”  Snapping your head in her direction you walking up to her standing in her face and exclaimed “Firstly Taehyung is the smartest in my Econ class. Secondly, don’t you think I’m already aware of what she says about me? don’t you think i want to punch that stupid smile off her face full of fillers? You wan’t me to grow some balls? FUCKING FINE, but I’m not wearing a “sexy nerd costume.” Smirking and trailing your fingers along a row of costumes  you looked at your friends. “I’ll show her just how hot I can be”  Layla smirked at you “That’s my girl, so what do you have in mind then” You slid your fingers along what felt like vinyl. Cocking your right eyebrow up you gripped the material. “What’s hotter than the Devil?” ——————————————— Standing in front of your mirror in your bedroom you were already regretting your choice in outfits for tonight. As you stared at yourself you reminded yourself why you were doing this. You were going to prove a point and that was all that mattered. you were going to prove you weren’t any of the negative things Nami said about you. Running your hands down the scrappy vinyl like material that was covering your chest and part of your upper body. Your hands stopped above your navel where the top stopped and you cocked your hip to the side, descending your hands further down your bare skin to the top of the matching vinyl like skin tight pants that resembled shiny black liquid covering your skin leaving little to the imagination. You plopped yourself in front of your desk to the makeshift vanity that was full of makeup products for the nights preparations. Curling the ends of your hair you laughed as Layla pranced around shimmying to Nasty by Brooke Candy. “Don’t trust that hoe he N A S T Y” you all yelled the lyrics.  Finishing your Deep Burgundy and black smokey eye, you applied a sharp winged eyeliner and smoked out the lower lash line. Applying small round black jewels under your eyes you finished the look with a deep burgundy matte lipstick, fluffy lashes and a soft pink toned blinding highlighter. “We have like 5 minutes, get your asses in gear” Layla announced as you were tying your simple black leather choker around your neck. After zipping up your over the knee 5 inch stiletto vinyl black boots, you placed your black horned headband on your head securing the little clips in your hair and primped the strands around your face to frame sexily.  The ride there was filled with bopping to music and Layla yelling that you were a bad bitch out of the windows for all of the campus to hear which caused you to yell as the Uber driver. Taking a deep breath, you exited the car and holding Layla and Caseys hands, you walked the short distance of the walkway to Seokjin’s Lavish off campus Townhome. The smell of weed and alcohol mixed with the sound of loud bass thumping greeted you as Layla pushed open the door. Walking through a sea of bodies you felt several pairs of eyes on you and you had to remind yourself it was fine. Settling yourselves in the kitchen, you started to make you all some drinks while Casey looked out for Valeria and Layla handed you cups and bottles. You decided simple Margaritas on the rocks were safe for the night and handed them to your friends. A tall and beautiful man you knew as Seokjin himself walked in and greeted you all, making sure to give Layla a hug to which you noticed her little blush creeping down her neck.  “I’m glad you all could make it! Layla are you Doja Cat? omg Casey you’re Peter Pan! y/n are you the devil? oooooh are those Margs I see?” SeokJin asked which you nodded and asked if he wanted one as well. “Yes please! I suck at making drinks, oh and please just call me Jin” Smiling you stirred the mixture into a clear cup and handed it to him earning a dazzling smile. As he took a sip, Jin pressed his right hand to his chest over his heart “You NEED to come to all of my parties and make me drinks. This is so delicious” As he mimicked the chefs kiss signal you laughed and Layla beamed a smile at him. “Y/n works as a bartender part time at Nely’s next to campus” You nodded and sipped you drink while surveying the beautiful white marble kitchen and chrome accents. “You have a beautiful Home Jin” you smiled to him which made him softly pat you on the back “Thank you! I take pride in my kitchen. It’s where I blow off steam from Volleyball practice” Layla shook her head “You need to blow off steam? you practically don’t even sweat while we run plays” to which Jin scoffed “We all need to blow off steam Layla” You and Casey watched as both people seemed really comfortable with being around each other. You noticed Layla blush and Jin smile every time their eyes met. “Oh you’re here” said a shrill voice you knew none other than Nami herself, dressed in a fluffy white see thru robe, white satin dress that barely covered her butt, knee high white vinyl go-go boots, white lace stockings and sitting atop her head a thin gold halo attached to a headband. Next to you Layla smiled and placed her hand on her hip “Yeah, we said we would be here so here we are” you heard the brattiness in her voice and giggled when you notice Jin staring at her hips. “Ew, don’t stay too long” Nami said while walking out. Jin shook his head which prompted Layla to ask why he had invited Nami. “Well our families are friends and my roommates are friends with her” You cocked an eyebrow” You have roommates?” Before Jin could answer you heard a deep baritone laugh getting closer, turning your head to the side you saw Taehyung accompanied by Hoseok walking into the safe haven of the kitchen. “Tae, Hoseok, come meet Layla and her friends Casey and y/n!” Jin smiled “These are my roommates” As the men stepped closer you tried your best to cover the shocked look on your face. “HEY we have two devils!” Hoseok yelled out and smirked.  Taehyungs hair was parted down the middle and some of his fringe was swept up into two red ‘horns’ he donned black skin tight vinyl pants, red shiny shoes that looked a lot like Gucci Mules, a sequined Blazer with only one button down right above his navel that accentuated his chest as he decided to forgo a shirt and a thing black choker similar to yours but tied in a small bow sitting in the hollow of his throat. Feeling his eyes roaming over your body and landing on you horns you busied yourself by chugging your drink and earned a holler from Hoseok. “Hey y/n can party!”  Before anything else could be said, Casey spotted Valeria who was waving at you all to join her in the living room. Throwing your cup in the trash you followed Casey out of the now suffocating kitchen and tried to hide your expression as your eyes met the Red Devil while you slid passed him.  “Hey girls!” Valeria smiled and hugged you both causing Casey to blush. Layla had stayed in the kitchen talking to Jin which made you smirk knowingly. “This is Subin” the man next to her looked up from his phone and sent a side your way, you noticed his costume as a werewolf from the looks of his tattered ripped shirt and what looked like a gnarly bite mark on his collarbone.  “Hi I’m y/n and this is Casey” Casey narrowed her eyes at the man and how close he was standing to Valeria mumbling out a ‘I know who Subin is’. As you four talked you noticed Valeria standing closer and closer to Casey while laughing at some inside joke they shared. Before you knew it Valeria had swung an arm around your friend and they shared a soft smile. You really hoped all went well for Casey, if not, you might have to kick some ass. While you were thinking of the cuteness overload that Casey and Valeria together could be you heard a shuffle from your right “you look nice when you smile” Subin smiled at you and you felt the pink tint forming on your cheeks. As Casey pulled Valeria with her outside for some “fresh air” which you knew as go time. You decided to get straight to it and ask Subin himself “Are you and Valeria a thing?” choking on his drink he coughed out a loud ‘no no no no’ and you cocked an eyebrow. “Val and I are just friends, plus she’s not really into someone like me like that?.” “Someone like you?” Nodding Subin smiled knowingly and looked towards the door both girls had just slipped through. “As in she like boobs, your friends boobs to be exact.” Your eyes widened “Wait no! not her boobs, she liked your friend in general i was just saying boobs to accentuate how Val wouldn’t like me anatomically.” You giggled at how flushed he had gotten and he smiled along with you. You hadn’t noticed a pair of eyes staring as you talking to the man dressed as a werewolf. Hoseok noticed the look in his friends eyes, it was the same one Taehyung had gotten anytime you rolled your eyes at him, ignored his presence or had gotten in a heated debate. He had been sporting that look every time he looked at you for a little over two years now. Since your first year of college when you had shared a Psych class and battled for top spot in class. He knew his friend had taken an interest in you and it never dissipated.  Taehyung sipped his beer and kept his eyes glued to your face while you smiled and laughed at something the man next to you had said. Hoseok was tired of nothing coming from this and slammed his beer down hopping onto the coffee table earning a ‘that wasn’t cheap get down!’ from Jin “It’s beer pong time!” Hopping off the table he stood in front of you in all of his Napoleon Dynamite Glory. “Y/n come play beer pong” he smiled at you and you could help but notice how beautiful Hoseoks smile was. Shaking your head “I don’t think i’ll be playing tonight Hoseok but than-“ Nami cackled at you from her band of barbies and interrupted “ Hope, don’t waste your time with her she isn’t worth it. Plus she probably can’t even play, she’s never even been to a party before.” Thats what caused you to roll your eyes and place your hand into Hoses outstretched one. “I’ll play”. You and Subin followed Hoseok to the side of the living room where a few beer pong tables were already set up. Layla and Jin had joined you as well, intrigued to see you playing. “Okay teams of two. Usual rules of no leaning over the table, must drink your drink if a ball is sunk, one re-rack per person on each team, and if a trick shot made with one hand behind your back and a foot away from the table is sunk by the opposing team they may make a request that you have to complete. Said request can’t be anything illegal or THAAAT bad. “Can I take a shot instead of drinking a beer? I don’t really do well with beer” you asked honestly which cause Hoseok to holler “Fuck yeah!”  Before you could pick a teammate Hoseok smiled and pulled Taehyung over “We have to have the two Devil’s playing” You shrugged and asked Subin if he would be your partner to which he smiled an ‘of course’ which earned a cock of an eyebrow from Taehyung which Hoseok noticed and smirked. “I’d be on Tae’s team but I think to make it fair we should have another female” Nami walked over laying her hand on Taehyung’s shoulder and smirked “I’ll play” you rolled your eyes and mumbled an ‘i’ll play’ mimicking her shrill voice which earned a chuckle from Subin. “Ooh an Angel and a Devil on the same team, how heaven and hell” Hoseok smirked and set up the cups handing each team their set of ping pong balls. Layla and Jin brought you a bottle of tequila (your eyebrows shot up when you noticed it was ‘Gran Patron’ and then you remembered these people are well off. You had made the marg’s with a different bottle of Patron which while not cheap wasn’t as expensive as this particular bottle was) and shot glasses to replace the typical drink of beer if a ball is sunk. Beer really didn’t sit well with your stomach, you assumed it was the carbonation.  “Layla you do know this is like a $500 bottle of alcohol right?” Layla smirked and Jin smiled responding “I don’t really drink Tequila unless it’s in a marg and my uncle left this bottle here from his last stay, as far as I’m concerned you can have it.” You opened the bottle letting the smell of Agave fill your senses and re capped it. “Ready?” Hoseok asked to which both teams agreed.  Taehyungs team started to which Nami missed her shot, the next shot was Subins and he sunk it, picking her to chug what looked like some sort of fruity cider. Taehyung was next and he lined up his shot before seemingly sinking it before he looked up “Subin drinks” he said smoothly and Subin drank what was left in his cup. You were up next, carefully lining up your shot you watched as the ball plopped right into the cup and looked at the duo in from of you. “Nami drinks” Nami rolled her eyes “Ughh again??” she exclaimed and you smirked “What? can’t keep up?” you asked to which she grumbled and drank what looked like another cider. Nami sunk her next shot and picked you to drink, as you poured the liquid into your shot glass you smirked right at her while downing the shot like it was water. Unknown to you, a pair of dark eyes watched as you licked your lips while placing the glass down. The game continued with each of the teams missing and sinking shots until you won the game, hugging Subin you both had only had around 3 drinks each and decimated the other team. Taehyung called for another game as in 2/3 wins to win the full game. You had surprisingly agreed but only because Nami wouldn’t shut the fuck up with her little snide comments and you loved the look on her face every time she missed or you sunk her shot.  The second game continued until there were only 4 cups left on your end and 3 on the opposing team. You and Subin hugged each other after your last shot that nailed Nami yet again and she held her stomach calling celebrity shot which basically called Hoseok into the game to replace her. You were 5 shots in and feeling light, not nearly drunk but nicely buzzing as you could hold your liquor well. Stepping in Hoseok smirked “Imma flip things up, If i sink this shot ya’ll gotta do my request” Folding his left arm around his back he took a few steps away from the table and focused on nailing the center shot, and to your surprise he actually did nail it. “Hmm little devil, I request that you take a shot” Your eyebrows shot up as that sounded easy enough. “Oh dear, not a normal shot. I’m talking about a body shot, your partner needs to lay on the table and you have to follow all body shot steps down to the lime in his mouth.” Rolling your eyes you turned to Subin to ask if it was okay with him. Your buzzing partner agreed and insisted after you asked if he was sure. Laying his body down on the table with the crown of his head facing Hoseok and Teahyung. He lifted his shirt up to his chest so that you could sprinkle salt from his navel up to his chest. Filling the shot glass, you placed it above his belly button and gave him the lime wedge to slip between his lips. Taehyung gritted his tech as you climbed onto the white table situating yourself above Subins lap. People who were watching the game from afar gathered closer to watch as you once again asked Subin if it was okay and he smiled a yes. Leaning down you tentatively dragged your tongue from his belly button up to his chest licking up the salt, then dipped back down to his belly button and wrapped your lips around the shot glass leaning up and getting the liquid pour into your mouth and down your throat. You crawled up his body and carefully took the lime from his mouth, making sure to dig into the flesh of the lime and not actually touch his mouth. After all, you just met him and didn’t want him to think you were taking advantage of anything. Throwing the wedge into a discarded cup you hopped off of the table and handed Subin a napkin to wipe the remnants of salt and tequila off of his body.  “Can we get on with the game?” Taehyung grumbled and you rolled your eyes nodding. Subin sunk his next shot and Hoseok took a shot of Tequila instead of chugging a beer. It was now 3 to 2 and Taehyung missed his next shot, too focused on the way you were fanning your hand over the back of your next from the warmth the liquor was giving you. It was your turn and you sunk your next shot causing Taehyung to chug the beer Jin handed to him. Hoseok smiled and once again moved his left arm around his back “Might as well make it interesting, another request for another trick shot” you rolled your eyes and smiled at the brunette as he wagged his eyebrows and closed his eyes. You truly did not think he would sink another trick shot, let along with his eyes closed. But as you watched the ball sink into one of your cups your eyes went wide. You heard hollers and screams hyping up the shot that Hoseok had just made and mentally readied yourself for another body shot. “If you’re thinking I’m going to have you do the same thing, you’re wrong” Your eyebrows furrowed and he smirked “It’s Subins turn to take a body shot” Taehyung let out a deep warning “Hoseok, don’t” You didn’t understand why he would have a problem with it but you turned around to look at Subin to ask if he was once again okay with such a thing. He nodded and in turn asked if you were okay. Smiling you handed him a shot glass. After you situated yourself the same way Subin had, you saw him falter on where to put the salt since your top stopped right above your navel, and you grabbed the bottle of salt from his hand and placed a trail from your collarbone up your next. You figured it was safer than your cleavage.  Subin handed you the lime wedge and you softly bit into it watching him fill the shot glass and place it above your belly button. Layla looked down at you and smiled as she saw you getting chorus of “Fuck yeah y/n” which had made Nami who was sitting down roll her eyes. Climbing into your body and leaning down, Subin let his tongue drag along your collarbone to your neck slowly before leaning down and wrapping his lips around the shot glass in the same way you had done to him and leaned up to gulp it down. Leaning down once again he was about to take the lime wedge from your mouth when a hand n his shoulder stopped him. Before you could ask what was going on you saw a strand of red and felt a pair of lips on yours pulling the lime away.  Taehyung had had enough, he was tired of seeing you with Subin and even more tired of the games Hoseok was playing. When he watched Subin lean down to your mouth he couldn’t take it anymore and his body reacted on it’s own. Doing what it had been wanting to do for years.  You watched as Taehyung spit out the lime wedge a leaned back down to capture your lips in his in an upside down kiss. A chorus of oohs and oh shits followed which caused you to push him off and jump off of the table. You shook your head at him and wrapped your arms around your body “What the fuck Taehyung?” you asked but before anybody could answer you, you asked Jin where the bathroom was to which he pointed out and you ran there hearing a “wait” being yelled but you didn’t care you needed to get out of there. You were being watched by everybody and that accompanied with the kiss from someone you thought you hated and assumed he hated you as well, well that was too much. Walking into the first floor bathroom you slammed the door and made your way to the sink. You looked at yourself in the mirror then looked down, bracing your hands on either side of the sink trying to calm yourself down.  You could hear the bass thumping, causing the walls to lightly vibrate. There was a loud knock on the door followed by a series of “y/n please please open the door.” Letting out a deep breath you ran your index finger along your lash line, wiping any excess makeup that had smudged during your beer pong game. Stepping towards the door you swung it open only to be greeted with your best friend flinging herself on your short frame despite the high heeled boots you donned. “Hi, I love you, and before you say it. I know you want to go home but please don’t let those people get to you. So what if Tae kissed you? Don’t even acknowledge that ass wipe, and omg you should’ve seen Navi’s face when he kissed you. She legit looked like she was going to blow up like some sort of doll filled with helium!” Layla placed her hands on either side of you, softly gripping your shoulders, her deep brown eyes staring into yours softly. “Hey, talk to me? If you really do want to go home, i’ll go with you. But I really think you shouldn’t let anything that just happened get you down. Let’s just go back to the living room and dance all these feelings away! You’ve got me, Jin, Subin and Casey and Val ‘not that i know where they are.” While she rambled on you took in your surroundings, noting the pristine glass shower situated in the corner followed by the chrome towel rack that supported plush light grey towels. The porcelain toilet stood across from it, tucked into a corner of the light grey walls that matched the towels. As she finished her speech you already knew what you had to do, you weren’t going to let this get you down. You were so fucking tired of letting people get to you, you had no control over your life growing up but you sure as hell had control over your current self. You had amazing friends, were incredibly intelligent, worked your ass off at both of your jobs and were happy with the way you looked. Quirking up the left corner of your mouth you leaned in and planted a big smooch on your besties left cheek. “Layla, you’re right” Surprise crossed your best friends face, followed by a knowing smirk. “That’s my best bitch! Let’s get our asses down there and show them what a bad bitch you are, not that you haven’t already. I mean, dude you totes slammed like 6 shots no problem and you look HOT AS HELL.”  Giggling you took her arm into yours and let her take you down the hallway into the crowded living area. The LED lights lit a soft purple hue that bounced off of the cream colored walls, further creating that fantasy look that enticed party goers to let all their inhibitions go. You noticed someone had moved the coffee table to a far corner closer to the beer pong tables, which had expanded the makeshift dance floor. The DJ was bopping his head to the current track he was mixing and the sea of bodies moving themselves to the beat was massive. You clutched Layla’s hand in yours as she pushed her way through the dancers and you all finally settled closer to one of the couches that had been pushed to a corner opposite of the tables where Jin, Subin and Hoseok had been waiting for you two. Jin placed a hand on your shoulder as if you check if you were alright and you smiled while nodding. “I’m so so sorry y/n, are you okay?” Subin asked and searched your face for an answer. Smiling at the man who had been your partner in crime for the passed hour, you nodded. “It’s all good, no need to be sorry. I do need another drink though. I think that little stint in the bathroom may have sobered be up more than i’m happy about.  Hoseok smiled and shouted a ‘Gotchu’ before he bounded back off to the kitchen mixing up some concoction you knew would be strong. “Theres seems to be a lot more dancing than before” you jutted your chin towards the sea of bodies and Jin laughed. “I think most people are in that drunks haze where dancing is all they can do since they can’t seem to stand straight.” You chucked softly as you knew all too well how dancing enticed drunk people. The brunette thrusted a clear cup into your hands, quirking an eyebrow at him he responded with a chuckle. “It’s just bourbon on the rocks” Testing the liquid in the cup you smiled confirming it was in fact bourbon and nothing gross. You spotted Nami hanging herself on Taehyung in the corner towards the tables, your eyes met as she looked back at you with what looked like rage. Leaning her body upwards she leaned in towards his right ear and appeared to be whispering something to which he shook his head while staring into his glass. This seemed to upset her, huffing she once again leaned back up and attached you pink gloss covered lip to his neck. For some reason this had annoyed you to no end. For years Nami had been al over the tall man, only to be semi rejected with her advances which had brought you an odd sense of joy and seeing her lips on his neck as he just stood there caused you to rip your gaze away fro the pair and bring your cup up to your still burgundy tinted lips as the lipstick had faded away and left you with a just bitten look. Leaning you head back you downed the contents of the glass and slammed it down on the nearby end table that was situated by the couch. “Let’s dance?” you handed Jin your purse pulling Layla to the dance floor with you, not needing an answer to your question. As you both pushed through to the middle of the grinding crowd you best friend leaned in to your ear letting you know she’d be right back. Before you could ask what she was doing you saw her watermelon headband bounding up to the DJ who nodded when she leaned in close to him. As the first notes of the beat started you couldn’t help the smirk that planted itself on your lips. You giggled as Layla shimmied her way towards you and the first lines of the song began. Letting your body sway to the music, Layla laid her hands on your hips. “That’s my best friend, she a real bad bitch. Got her own money.” You both sang as you moved your hips in her hands.  Placing both of your hands on her shoulders you turned her around and pulled her back close to your chest. Jin had been staring at your friend’s hips swaying along with yours and you decided you wanted to put on a show for him. Running your hands up her tight covered thighs up to her waist she leaned forward and gave her ass a little twerk causing you to chuckle. Turning her body around she gripped your hand in hers and spun you around, you made sure to wiggle your hips as you spun. “She been down since the jellies and the bow-bows” you shimmied your hips and saw Casey and Val bounding their way towards you two. As they got closer you noticed Caseys Peter Pan hat had gone missing and Vals pink lipstick was smudged, both girls walking hand in hand. Throwing Casey a knowing smirk she shrugged lightly and Layla wrapped her arms around both girls, creating a circle. “Where have you BEEN?” Layla yelled over the music at the two but shook her head after taking in their appearances “Nevermind I don’t want to know, wait, or do I?” wiggling her eyebrows she smoothed down Caseys wild blonde bob. Val seemed to enjoy the blush that had formed on Caseys cheek and she leaned close to place a kiss on either cheek, further fueling the crimson on her cheeks. As the intro to Bad Bitch by Bebe Rexha came into play you all raised your hands up into the air and swayed to the beat. Hoseok came into view, thrusting a shot into each of your friends hands and you all posed for his snapchat video while downing the shots of what tasted like whiskey. “Gross, I don’t know how you like liquor” Casey said, her cute face scrunching up into a sour expression and you giggled.  Leaning down you touched your toes and twerked your ass to the beat earning a “fuck it up” from Layla and Val. As you ground your hips back into your best friend you looked up catching Taehyungs burning gaze on your flushed face. Cocking an eyebrow up at him you turned around in Layla’s hold swaying your hips. “Ugh, prissy bitch incoming” Layla whispered into your ear and you followed her eyes to Nami who pulled Michelle and a bored looking Taehyung onto the dance floor. Your eyes followed Navi’s movements as they slid up and down the devils chest and Michelle settled her hands on his shoulders behind him. Your jaw tensed as Nami’s hands trailed up to his neck. Meeting his dark gaze you narrowed your eyes slightly and shook your head, turning around and grabbing Hoseoks hands pulling him closer to you. The LED lights turned a deep red hue as the opening to Streets - Silhouette remix started and Val exclaimed “Let me put this on insta, y/n your horns loom so good in this light!” Posing with your back towards Hoseoks with your head leaning onto his shoulder, the latter gripped your hips and leaned his face into your neck while Val took the picture.  As the tune changed and the beat dropped with it’s intoxicatingly slow beat you swayed your hips against Hoseoks, bending your knees and slowly sliding up and down his body. Trailing his fingers up your sides he grilled your hips and turned you around to face him. You heard Layla lean into Casey saying something along the lines of ‘oh shit’. ‘I found it hard to find someone like you’ you slid your body down the Brunettes, never leaving his gaze ‘send your location come thru’. Leaning back up you rolled your head around and he wrapped a hand into your hair, his other gripping your right hip tighter. your hands settled themself on his shoulders and you leaned towards his left, your eyes catching onto Taehyungs dark gaze, his eyes never leaving yours as Hoseok ground his hips into yours. Even as Nami wiggled her hips in front of his and trailed her hands under his blazer, his arms stayed at his sides, never touching the Angel nor the Bunny who still danced her body against his back. Hoseok knew his friend was watching and he couldn’t help but smirk, gripping your hair tighter he moved your face towards him and pulled you in until you were a few centimeters from his lips as he moved your hips along with his. ‘We belong and I can’t be without you’ Doja’s voice crooned through the speakers as Hoseok leaned in closer to your lips over the hazey cloud of smoke and tightly packed bodies. You internally debated wether or not you truly wanted him to close that gap and land his lips on yours, but the only thing you could think of was the gaze of a certain someone on yours.  Before you fully decided on if you wanted the man in front of you to kiss you, your body was pulled away from his. A strong grip was formed around your wrist and all you registered was Layla and Casey wide eyes before you were being pulled away from the dancing bodies and up the stairs. You barely registered the click of a door being opened followed by your back hitting the hard wood. “What the hell were you doing?” Taehyung rasped out staring deeply into your eyes with a mixture of what looked like want and fury. You placed your hands on his chest pushing him back slightly and jutted your chin upwards. “Excuse me? I was dancing with my friends and Hoseok, not that that’s any of you business” Taking a step towards him. “What the hell do YOU think you’re doing? dragging me up to this room and thinking you can manhandle me.” Receiving no answer you shook your head and were prepared to turn around and walk right back out of that door. “You drive me fucking insane. Seeing that Subin guys hands all over you and then you dancing like that with my best friend.” You felt yourself being pressed against the door once again with his large hands on either side of your head, his rings glinting against the soft light filtering in through the open curtains. Cocking your eyebrow up at him you stood your ground. “What? are you Jealous?” you snorted out. “Yeah, yeah I fucking am” At his surprising answer you looked up seeing nothing but want in his deep eyes with a glint of something else you couldn’t quite place. “You’re fucking insane. Don’t play with me” you rasped out, your voice hoarse from singing and dancing earlier. “I’m not playing” was all you heard before your head knocked back against the wooden frame of the door followed by a pair of plush lips crushing yours with a ferocity you suddenly craved. He tasted like cinnamon and liquor and you loved it. Something inside you both seemed to snap in that moment and you trailed one of your hands up, curling your fingers into his soft hair and tugging on the makeshift horns it was styled into. Your other hand settled itself onto his warm chest fingering the labels of his blazer. Taehyung growled out at you reciprocated the kiss and trailed his right hand down the door, settling on your hip and pulling you impossibly closer to his body. Feeling teeth nibbling at your lower lip you gasped out and he took the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth, your tongues immediately fighting for dominance. Tugging his hair harder you felt his hand that had been on your hip slide lower until it was gripping a handful of your ass cheek, followed by a grunt. You could still hear the music that was thumping downstairs but it was slowly being drowned out by the man in front of you. The plush pair of lips that was against yours slowly trailed down to your jaw, nipping at the flesh softly until they reached your neck. Nuzzling his face against your warm flesh as he littered the area with whisper soft kisses. Slipping your hand under his blazer you trailed your nails lightly along his skin earning a low hiss from his deep voice. Smirking, you dug you nails harder “You’re playing with fire babygirl” Taehyung gripped both of your hands into one of his large palms and pressed them against the door frame grinding his hips into yours. Feeling his length against your covered core you couldn’t help the soft whine that escaped your lips. Taehyung trailed his lips back to your neck and sucked on your pulse point causing you to arch your back. “Y/n i really don’t want to stop, but I need to know that you want this too” the man in front of you pulled back slightly while he waited for a response. Letting out a small ‘yes’ he leaned back down capturing you in another searing kiss. Flexing your wrists in an outwards circular motion you freed yourself from his grip and took a step forward placing your hands against his chest and effectively spinning him around so his back hit the door.  Despite the height different even with your heels you kept your palms flat on his chest with your strength, keeping him against the door. Arching a dark brow up at you Taehyung smirked. “Not going to lie, that was pretty hot” you felt him grumble against your mouth as it attached itself to his tan neck. Sucking a few bruises against his flesh you felt his need growing against your stomach and you couldn’t help your involuntary clench of your thighs. His smell was intoxicating, a mixture of fresh linen, cinnamon and musk. You felt his hands trail up the backs of your thighs and grind the flesh under your ass, signaling you to wrap your legs around his waist. Leaving one more bite against his neck you complied and jumped up latching your legs around his sturdy hips. Walking you both backwards, Taehyung leaned you downwards until your back was hitting the large bed tucked against the wall. Arching your back towards him you pulled him onto your body by his shoulder and moaned into his mouth as he captured your lips in his. Biting down on your lower lip hard, Taehyung ground his hips down against yours.  While his mouth felt incredible against yours you knew you wanted, no, needed more.“Need more” you whispered out causing his to chuckle against your lips and lean his body up. Smirking down at you he cocked his head to the side and trailed his index finger up your torso and chest. “Sorry love, I couldn’t hear you. What was that?” Rolling your eyes you reached up tugging his hair into your grip. “I said, I.Need.More” you said though gritted teeth at the knowing look in his eyes. “Why didn’t you say so earlier?” before you could retort you felt his mouth latch itself on your collarbone and his hands trailing down your legs, pulling the zippers to your boots down before tossing them on the floor somewhere. Trailing his hands behind your back he began trying to undo your top. “While these straps are hot, they aren’t fucking functional for shit. How the hell do I take this off?” Taehyung practically growled out causing a chuckle to leave your lips. Leaning up slightly you helped him unhook the main portion of the top and pull the strappy harness over your neck. Tossing the item he had been fumbling with to the side he couldn’t stop admiring your breasts covered only by your black lace bra.  You shivered as he trailed his hands up your chest, his cold rings causing your nipples to perk up and a gasp to leave your mouth. Leaning his face down, Taehyung started trailing soft kisses along your chest downwards to your torso and back up. His hands were once again at your back, this time working fast successfully unhooking your bra. Looking into your eyes he hooked his fingers under the straps on your shoulder and slowly pulled down releasing your breasts from their confinement. Biting down on his lip he started at your perky nipples and full breasts. He had always loved your curves and didn’t ever think he’d get to see them this way. You felt his soft lips wrap around one of your nipples and gasped as his tongue lightly flicked against the hard pebble. Your hand in his hair pulled him closer to your chest and he smirked. He pinched your other nipple between his fingers which earned a low moan. His mouth being soft on one of your nipples and his fingers being rough on your other one caused an intoxicating juxtaposition and you couldn’t help the little whines that left your throat. Fiddling with your button and zipper, Taehyung successfully started to pull your pants down, leaning up and leaving your nipple with a loud pop of his mouth. Tugging to pull your pants off of your legs he hissed when he saw your core only covered by your thin lace panties. You heard your pants hit the floor in a loud thump and bit your lip in nervousness as you realized just how exposed you were in front of this infuriatingly beautiful man. “You’re fucking beautiful” He rasped out, trailing his eyes up your body and landing on your face. Before he could hike your legs open and upwards you spoke up “You have way too many articles of clothing on” Smirking he complied with your request and popped the single button holding his blazer together, sliding it down his shoulders and throwing it in a heap on the floor. You heard his shoes being kicked off as well before he leaned back down to resume his earlier ministrations. His large hands slid down the insides of your thighs and pulled them open to reveal your soaked panty covered core. You swore you head him let out a low whine but before you could comment on it you felt a warm pair of lips latch onto your clit through the fabric. Arching your back off of the bed you gripped his shoulder in your hand. Taehyung rubbed his index and middle finger along your slit and hooked themselves around the fabric pulling it to the side and exposing yourself to the cool air and his waiting mouth. Laying his left palm flat against your lower tummy he leaned in giving you a soft tentative lick to your slit. Biting your lip between your teeth you moaned out when he latched his mouth around your clit and sucked harshly. “F..Fuck” Hearing your moan he sucked against and gripped the flesh of your thigh with his other hand keeping your legs open. Alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue against your sensitive nub he loved the way you tasted and couldn’t get enough of it. If it was up to him he would do this all day every day.  You ground your hips up into his mouth causing him to smirk against your cunt. “Needy” he growled out and trailed his fingers that had been on your thigh down to your slit, running the tip of his middle finger around your opening before sliding itself in to the knuckle. You brought your right fist to your mouth and bit down to keep yourself from moaning out. Slowly pumping his finger in and out, he watched as your finger disappeared into your wet heat taking him in so good. “Fuck you’re wet” Looking up into your eyes he saw you biting down onto your fist and stopped his ministrations “ If you want more I need to hear you babygirl” Muffling a ‘please’ you released your fist from your mouth and wove it into his hair. Pleased with your sounds he continued sliding his finger in and out of you, adding his index finger into your heat hissing at how tight you were. “Shit you’re tight, gotta make sure you’re nice and ready for my big cock babygirl” Arching your back, you felt his press against your inner walls and curl his fingers causing you to dig your fingernails into his shoulder and tug his hair harder with your other hand. Latching his mouth back onto your clit he lightly hummed which sent vibrations through your body. Whining with need you continued grinding your hips up onto his face and rolled your eyes closed. Taehyung looked up at you watching your fucked out expression and almost choked when he heard you whining his name. Working his tongue against your click he started to harshly pump his fingers into you before slowing down and inching his middle finger into your heat. You felt your cunt burning at the stretch but the look in his eyes caused another gush of arousal to seep out and coat his fingers further. “Jesus..fuck you’re so hot and you taste so fucking delicious” As he slowly pumped his fingers in and out you felt your stomach clenching, that familiar feeling on your realize building with each flick of his tongue against your clit. “Tae.. Tae i’m going to cum if you keep doing that.” Sucking harshly he curled his fingers and pressed against your g spot “Cum babygirl, let me taste you before I slid my fat cock into your needy cunt” Rolling your eyes back you felt your legs start to shake as you gripped his hair almost painfully between your fingers. Your stomach tightened and you felt yourself clench around his fingers. Your breath becoming shallow as you let out a series of ‘oh fuck yes’ and ‘omg omg’ your hand that had been on his shoulder came up to your chest as your pinched your nipple between your feelings and felt the metaphorical dam of your orgasm approaching.   Taehyung sucked harshly before grazing his teeth lightly against your clit and your eyes shot open feeling your legs convulse and your toes curl. With a final whine you felt yourself cum all over his tongue which he licked up like a starved man. Breathing deeply you felt the sweat drip down your brow for your intense orgasm and when he stood your eyes followed down his torso gleaming with sweat and down to the prominent bulge in his pants. Biting your lip you caught him staring at your cunt that had just cum around his finger and he started to pull your beyond soaked panties down and off of your legs. Looking back up into your eyes he slipped each finger between his plums lips and licked them clean.  Groaning at the action you felt yourself clench. “Think you can take more baby?” He smirked at you and you wrapped your legs around his waist pulling him against you and ground your soaking cunt against his covered length. “You’re getting me all dirty, fuck that’s hot” He growled out and slid his fingers down unbuckling his belt. Popping the button of his pants, he pulled the zipper down with your eyes following every movement. Sliding his pants down his thighs he kicked them off and hooked him thumbs into his black briefs. You couldn’t tell if you were really drooling but once his slid his fried down and his cock sprang free you knew me heard your very audible groan followed by a clench of your thighs. Sliding his hand along his shaft, he pumped his leaking length a few times and reached to the side opening a drawer and seemingly looking for a condom. Gripping his arm you shook your head “I’m on the pill, are you clean?” His eyes widened at the possibility of what you were saying and he nodded “I haven’t had sex in a few months and when I did I wore a condom, I also get checked every month if you want to see the results I have them on my pho-“ You cut him off by leaned up and kissing him. As you layed back down against the pillows you smiled up at him an he swore he felt his heart flutter and his cock pulsate. Hooking his right index finger under your thin leather choker he pulled you up and he ground his uncovered cock against your dripping pussy. “As much as I love these, they have to come off they’re barely hanging on your head. Not knowing what he was talking abut you felt his fingers prodding at your scalp and finally run through your hair with the devil horned headband and clips in his hand. Setting them down on the beside table he leaned back piping his cock and wrapping his fingers around his thick head of his shaft. Leaning down he took your mouth against his and you felt his thick tip push against your slit. Locking your ankles around his back you ran your hands down his shoulder and gripped his back. Your walls pulsated around him as he slid in inch by inch and you threw your head back as your walls accommodated his thick size. When he finally bottomed out in your heat he stilled letting you relax as he filled you to the brim.  Sliding his tongue against your he grunted when you involuntarily clenched around him. “You're so fucking tight, you make me crazy” he growled out and settled his mouth against your neck, nipping and sucking the skin as he slowly pulled out only to ram himself back in. Moaning loudly your grip on his shoulders tightened and you knew you were leaving crescent moons on his luscious tan skin. “Crazy? you seem pretty soft to me. Why don’t you fuck me and show me just how crazy I make you” you teased. After sucking harshly on your neck he sat back up and gripped the undersides of your thighs pulling them apart from his hips. “You’re so bad, want me to ruin you? Open you up with my fat cock?” you nodded and  trailed your tongue along your lower lip preparing yourself for what he was about to do.  Ramming himself up into you again you grated your teeth and looked up into his dark eyes. His rhythm was slow and harsh, pounds into you with each thrust of his hips. Your walls enveloped him and he swore he wasn’t giving you up after this, hell he wasn’t giving you up after that first kiss on that beer pong table. He was going to make sure you knew how he felt and hopefully you felt the same way. If not, he’d respect it but at least he’d know you knew how he felt. Watching your tits bounce with each thrust he heard you mumble out a raspy ‘faster’ and he complied, pushing your thighs farther up against your chest. At this knew angle you swore you felt him in your stomach. “Oh god” you ground out and his eyes flashed even deeper if that was possible “Fuck yeah, moan for me y/n”  Sliding himself in and out of you at a fast pace, you could hear his balls slapping against your ass. The room filled with shallow breathes and curses spewing from either of your mouths.  Taehyung slid his palms under your ass and gripped your cheeks between his large hands, squeezing harshly before pulling you up so you were sitting on his lip with his cock still stuffed inside of you. As he thrusted upwards you met his thrusts by bouncing your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands held you by your ass, pushing and pulling your body on and off of his cock. Leaning towards him you sucked a bruise onto his neck and wrapped your arms around the back of his neck. Feeling his cock his that sweet spot you shuddered and clenched around him tightly. “Stop doing that before I cum” he gritted out and you pulled back from his neck smirking. “mm maybe that’s what I want” With a sharp thrust upwards into your tight cunt he splayed his right hand agains the bottom of your spine and pulled you as close as you could get. “You’re devilish, I swear. You want me to fill up your little pussy with my cum? is that what you want? to get filled?” his deep baritone voice filled your ears and you clenched impossibly tighter around his shaft. “T..Tae fill me up..I need it!” you moaned out loudly and he pushed your body back down onto the bed, pushing your ankles towards your chest he situated himself on his knees and started ramming into you to the point where your body slid against the bed. Reaching one hand down, he lightly gripped your neck. “Yeah? want me to fill you up? Then cum baby, cum all over my cock.” “Tae..Tae..I’m going t..to cum. Fuck you’re so deep” your eyes fluttered closed as he gripped your throat and you held onto his back. “Cum for me y/n, let me feel you soak my cock as I fill you to the brim” Feeling your body start to convulse you opened your eyes to see his fucked out face, sweat dripping down his cherry colored hair and down his neck. His hand flexing on your neck and his abs flexing with every thrust. His low moan of your name sent you over the edge and you clenched around him. Your thighs closed around his hips and you moaned out his name. Curling your toes your this quivered and your inner walls fluttered around his throbbing shaft. Arching off of the bed and towards him his grip on your neck loosened and he leaned down capturing your hips in his as his hips stilled and you felt his warm cum spitting inside of your waiting heat. Thrusting his cock back in and out slowly he let out a low groan as the remnants of his cum filled you.  Taking deep breath he watched your face as he slowly slipped out of you and trailed his eyes down to watch the clear and white liquid leak out of you. Letting out a deep whine he leaned forward and captured your lips between his. His lips were soft against yours, still passionate but not as fiery as they had been earlier. Pulling back his gaze studied your face. “Tae..I” before you could continue he shook his head. “Wait before you say anything, please let me get this out. I’m sorry for the way things happened tonight but I don’t regret any of it. Iv’e literally liked you since we first argued about the attributes of the human brain during psych. That one time you called me an aloof imbecile I almost pulled you out of class and kissed that pretty look off of your face. I assumed you hated me and it made me mad, instead of being a normal human being and just asking you why you hated me I decided to take it out on you. If you didn’t like me, at least I could gain your attention arguing with you.” “And tonight, seeing you with those other guys..I couldn’t help but think it would’ve been better if it was me. I needed to stop being a pussy and just fucking tell you how i felt.” He shook his head as he spoke. “ What about you and Nami? and the fact that you laughed the other day when she made fun of what I should be for halloween and my tattoos” Scrunching his face he sighed. “First of all Nami is just a friend, well more like a family friend. Iv’e known her since I was young and I guess I was just used to her being there. Nami and i have never done anything and never will. Secondly, I didn’t laugh at whatever she said. to be completely honest I drowner out her voice after she asked how you got an invite. I has laughed at a meme Jin sent me of our other friend Namjoon whos away for a semester in Paris, with a bald cap on looking like a grandpa due to his old school vibe he always has. That being said, i’m sorry I never defended you when she said anything to or about you. I really wanted to but you were always so good at defending yourself and that one time Jose defended you, you had turned around and told him you didn’t ‘need a man’ to defend you. So that combined with me thinking you hated me, I just assumed you’d end up really hated me and wouldn’t give me the time of day when we argued anymore.” Climbing off of your body Taehyung sat down next to you and studied your expression. “I don’t hate you per say, I hated that you always argued with me, I hated that you scored higher than be despite never seeming to study while I worked my ass off, I hated that you came from money, you never had to fight for what you wanted or what you deserved. I hated that you were Nami’s friend and always seemed so aloof, like you really didn’t care about anything. But I didn’t..I don’t hate you as a person” you turned towards him. “Who said I never study? My parents would kill me if I scored sub-par. Hell, the only reason I can live here with Jin is if i keep up my grades and don’t disappoint them. If i didn’t care about anything my ass would be living in on campus housing and having an RA breath down my throat while my parents called me everyday asking if I was completing the study forms they sent over. Yeah I’m well off, but that’s my parents money and they worked hard for it. They put hard work and intelligence above all else.” your eyebrows rose at his confession and you get bad. You had assumed so much about him these passed two years and none of it seemed to be right. “I think that’s why I started to like you so much, you’re so intelligent, you work so hard at everything you do and you carry yourself like such a strong person. You kind of scare me if i’m honest” his deep voice chuckled and you smiled. “You’re beautiful inside and out”  Taehyung said softly brushing his thumbs against your cheeks. You could feel the tenderness in his chest and your heart fluttered. “Maybe I liked you too, maybe that’s why I always waited for you to argue with me. I like how intelligent you are, I like that you always have something to say about whatever point I’m trying to prove.” You said softly and the corner of his mouth lifter slightly “liked? past tense” Rolling your eyes you covered your face and grumbled. “fine, LIKE. As in present tense” Taehyung stepped off of the bed and chuckled “THE y/n likes me? i’m honored. Sure its not cause I just made you cum twice?” throwing your arm off of your eye you watched his figure retreating into another door before flicking a light on. “Shut up Tae!” Chuckling he emerged from what you assumed was an ensuite bathroom with a wet cloth and situated himself between your legs. “I like when you call me Tae” he said and you blushed, feeling the cool cloth wipe gently along your folds. Sliding the cloth along your legs he finished cleaning you up and smiled up at you gently with his every so beautiful boxy smile. Returning to the bathroom to drop off the cloth you heard the water turn on and assumed he was cleaning himself off as well. Letting your gaze look around the room you noticed the bookshelf across from the bed you were currently on. On its shelf sat different picture frames, books and what looked like plushies. On the other side of the same wall sat a dark grey desk complete with a laptop, a mini plant and various knickknacks and a chair with a navy blue hoodie that you noticed to be Taehyungs hanging off of the back of the chair. Next to the bed was a nightstand that had a lamp, an iPhone charging dock and a bottle of water. The door that connected to the rest of the house was on the same wall. Against the wall to the right of the bed was a large dark grey dresser that matched the desk and what you now noticed to be the bed frame. On the dresser sat bottles of cologne, accessories and a picture frame. Next to the dresser was the door Taehyung had disappeared into and another door you assumed to be maybe a closet. Furrowing your brows you realized this was Taehyung’s room and not just another guest room. Up until his confession earlier you assumed he lived in a luxurious off campus house paid for by his parents. While this was a luxurious Townhome it still wasn’t what you had pictured. As Taehyung walked out of the ensuite he opened a drawer and dug through until he found was he was looking for. Sauntering up to the bed he handed you a t-shirt and what had seemed to be your phone that had been tossed on the floor earlier and pulled on a pair of briefs over his legs. Holding the soft cotton material in your fingers you smiled and thanked him before slipping over your smaller frame. Checking your phone you immediately noticed a series of texts from Layla starting from concerned up to a text that had a winky face telling you to ‘get it, I came upstairs to check on you but your moaning let me know you were doing just fine’. Smacking your palm against your face you blushed bright crimson. Taehyung who had looking over your shoulder when you gasped at the text was giggling and you smacked his chest. “Ow, you hit hard” He said while still giggling. “So, would you..uh stay the night and maybe grab breakfast with me in the morning? I mean know that we’ve realized we both don’t hate each other and we kind of lik-“ Pressing your lips to his you felt him smile against your lips before you pulled back. “Yes, now can we sleep?.” Nodding Taehyung pulled you against his chest and brushed a few strands away from your face as your eyes fluttered closed. Running his hand along the flowers that decorated your right arm he smiled to himself before eventually closing his eyes as well. Interesting how Misunderstandings happen, isn’t it?

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Omg this was supposed to just be a drabble from the pic of red haired Tae and inso from a game of beer pong, BUT ALAS this monster was born. this is my first fit so any constructive criticism is appreciated. Any love is beyond appreciated too <3 I have some ideas for other pics but i just want to get my page situated first. Any messages are welcome too <3 i lub talking to people.

-C otherwise known as, Potitties

[elizabethrobertajones]

Did Bobo really create the Wayward Sisters? If so, why weren't Jack and especially Cas included in that episode? That's my biggest issue with that pilot honestly, I mean, the fact that the show abandoned Claire and Cas' bond after season 10 and gave that storyline to Salmondean. Her bond with Cas is more interesting because of their connection to the Novaks. I also think that Claire and Jack would've made a more engaging dynamic and spin off together, I think they're strong characters & actors

Hi there!

Bobo isn’t the “creator” of Wayward so much as it can even have one, as it was a very organic idea, which even involved a healthy amount of fandom input. The original campaign in season 10 was for Wayward Daughters, and the idea picked up so much steam the altered title for, I guess, a mix of copyright and thematic relevance was the Sisters one. I’d say 10x08 was the real genesis of it as something that could be really solid. Once Kim and Briana were put together the chemistry and star power they could have had together was really meteoric as far as our small SPN world was concerned. Phil Sgriccia directed 9x13 and wrote 10x08 and was more of the parent of Wayward than any specific writer in that sense. Jody and Claire were pretty much common property of the show by that point. Claire was really introduced again in relation to plotlines and questions about Cas and less to do with them really going out of their way to re-launch her. I think they’d have been much cornier about it from the start and while YA protagonist diary writing her way through the end of Wayward Sisters was cute, it’s the sort of cutesy that really has to be earned. If she STARTED that way, like maybe me and 3 friends would be stanning her and everyone else would be revolted :P

(I am a YA fantasy novel author, but I do think everyone should make room in their hearts for this level of cheese)

In any case, Bobo just threw his hat into an already crowded ring with Alex, but obviously loving the characters and having his own personal wayward child to contribute did help elevate him to the prospective showrunner seat, but also all the other writers who’d written these characters except Dabb had left at that point. If Bobo was going to shepherd them through to their new show, he’d be the legacy writer, even though he was a new baby writer in the season Donna was introduced... Attrition aside, he did genuinely write them very well, loved their stories and was great with writing Jody when he could get her, so he would also have been a good choice even if all the others were left still... 

But anyway. Season 10′s subplot for Cas was about Claire and learning some stuff about himself along the way, but she was used very much for his personal development and for Dean as well, being a mini Dean herself in a season where he had lost a lot of his sense of self. It’s a total accident of scheduling but Angel Heart (10x20) being the last episode before 10x22 is a nice touch in that regard. And while Cas tried really hard with Claire and awoke his inner Dad side so that he’d be more prepared for fatherhood next time, it was pretty insurmountable between them to have anything more than a bittersweet relationship where the best he could do was make up with her and see her somewhere safe. The fact of him looking like her actual dead father is horrendous the more you think about it and while she managed to see him for who he was instead of a horrible monster, that’s more than enough trauma to inflict on an already traumatised girl for the sake of helping Cas’s manpain and tidying up the sticky question of Jimmy and Cas’s right to the vessel. 

Angel Heart very specifically ends with TFW mailing Claire to Jody because they know she’s already good with Alex in a genuine way and can handle these sort of issues and has done it before. And also because she can be a guardian who will not constantly remind Claire that her father is dead but something is walking around wearing a perfect reconstruction of his face. Carver era did a few things here and there with bodily autonomy and the problem of angel and demon vessels, but it was also really hit and miss. They’d get random waves of feeling guilty about it but then by necessity go back to stabbing angels in their still-living vessels an episode later. Claire was a way to address at the very least that whatever Cas was being put through was only a punishment on Cas and not on Jimmy as well, which is probably why we got such sappy Heaven scenes. We NEEDED to be shown he was in Heaven and largely okay with what was going on so that the show could justify using Cas at all as a character without breaking the code of ethics they tried to make their own characters adhere to. Aside from that it also gave Cas a side plot for when he wasn’t needed in the main plot, and any emotional connection to anything that wasn’t Sam and Dean.

Anyway 10x20 caused this huge fandom high which was followed by one of the lowest lows of the fandom immediately after, and both centred on female characters (in fact, now we know, 2 lesbians even! Though I’d wonder if, The Gay Agenda aside, Bobo spite-wrote that specifically because of the roots of Wayward) and I think that galvanised the whole movement of fans and hopefully some self-reflection in the show. They DID start making an effort in season 11, which shows some of the early signs of better inclusion but also backtracking or edging nervously away from the more intense Carver era stuff. Not just because Dean didn’t have the Mark any more but in general it was like someone had opened a window and let in some fresh air... Even before Carver bailed somewhere around the midseason to go do a different show and Dabb started to step up. 

All this to say that the Wayward stuff was always about the female characters and making up for the past sins of the show. It’s even a riff on the “wayward son” line which obviously centres around male protagonists and their journey. Claire stumbled into being a part of it in the lucky way of being in the right place and time, but the journey had already started even in the season 10 momentum with earlier work and it was that which suddenly made the prospect that Jody had two young women living with her now seem like a starter for the next generation of the show as it was a mirrored format to season 1 in a way, if you took Alex and Claire as the new Sam and Dean. It was exciting but people flipped out after Angel Heart because stuff had been bubbling since season 9 and earlier in season 10, so this was just pouring more candy into an already visibly full bowl of potential tasty gems. It made a possibility seem real that hadn’t before because we already had Kim bitterly complaining that the CW refused to hear the case for a Jody spin off because she was too old. The next best thing was a Jody spin off where she was the Gandalf to some CW age appropriate characters.

(the CW is and always has been garbage)

Anyway in season 13 Jack was introduced as a Claire 2.0 but as a male character with staying power for that reason, but he was filling the space she left for Cas. He couldn’t be a father to her and neither really wanted that set up anyway. But thematically it had created the possibility of Dadstiel and the space he had in his heart for that. Since the show was in its waning years they would be looking for endgame and handing Cas an easy win with a son he could unconditionally love who would love him back unconditionally absolutely filled that gap. It was a non SamnDean thing that Cas could have for himself outside of whatever happened with them. Not sure the memo came back that he was supposed to have mORE than that but oh well it’s not real if you don’t watch it :))) But yeah Jack was always going to be linked to Cas’s endgame, he wasn’t a free-floating character such as Jody who could go where she wanted and do as she pleased. He was main story relevant from start to finish and tied inexorably to another main character’s fate. Because the show wouldn’t do that with its female characters they could be bundled into spin offs but in practical terms Jack was both never what the Wayward as envisioned by fans or writers was about, nor would he have been free to go. 

Since it would have been about centering the stories of people overlooked by the main story, Claire a case in point that she had her life ruined in season 4 and it was a footnote until season ten, and then metaphorically more the concept of having queer and non-white characters in the mix of main characters, it would have represented a future of the story where the main show was unable to tread. Probably because of the CW. Also inherent biases in the writers. Bad cocktail. Jack is both too white and too male to fit the brief to ever leave SPN, and not only that but he is so as a precise mirror to the main white male characters, being passably any one of their sons if you squint, and meant to be instantly instinctively read as such... he was one of the safest bets of representing the show as the network wanted to imagine its target demographic.

So I really don’t think that Jack has any place being in a spin off of the show unless you want more of the same. They tried to give us something different and the CW didn’t like it because it wasn’t more of the same. Ironically a Jack spin off, with or without Claire, would have more chance of being greenlit and more chance of success. But the spin off they put their heart behind was Wayward Sisters as it was. And I think it was absolutely correct that never mind leaving Jack out of it after his work was done in the lead up episode to help set the table, but honestly they could have cut all the middle scenes of Sam and Dean wandering in the woods and gained precious seconds with the girls and still had a functioning story with those guys. It was like some cowardly missive was sent that the show couldn’t actually go more than 10 minutes without showing a flesh and blood Winchester or the whole thing would spontaneously sizzle out of syndication and the money tree would wither on the spot. And in the mean time, we could have been having Banter with the girls. Or Claire and Kaia holding hands some more. The good stuff :P 

[flourchildwrites]

Six years after their escape to the human world, the Grace Field children live together in a happy, harmonious home. Twenty-one-year-olds, Ray, Norman and Emma, have folded themselves into modern society and work tirelessly to provide for their younger siblings, putting the greater good of their family before their personal needs. But as children turn to into teenagers, new house rules come into play. Norman, convinced that Emma will never remember their unique childhood bond, makes a bold proposition — to prohibit romantic relationships between the Grace Field children and end his hopes for something more with Emma once and for all.

Ray knows all too well how dangerous it is to reignite a spark, but for the happiness of Emma and Norman, he's always been willing to burn.

Fandom: Yakusoku no Neverland | The Promised Neverland (Manga)

Relationships/Pairings: Emma/Norman (Endgame), Emma/Ray (Fake Dating), Norman & Ray, Emma & Ray

Genre: Post-Canon (Spoilers for Anime-Only Fans), Fake/Pretend Relationship

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 12,930 words (incomplete 3/5)

A/N: Oh, hi! So it's been a while, but I have neither dropped off the face of the Earth nor given up on this fic. Sometimes, I just have to wait until I'm in the right state of mind to write a chapter. Until next time....

Chapter 3

The cuckoo clock on the wall of Norman’s study is an ornate piece of artistry.  It does its job fashionably and without complaint, keeping time with as much precision as its pendulum can muster.  Norman likes to lose himself to the details of the carved wood.  The dancing animals and crisp steeples that surround the clock face never fail to interest him when his thoughts turn sluggish at the end of the day.

Norman would happily wile away his evening hours waiting for the clock’s melodic chime to sound at the top of the hour, but this is not the gift’s purpose. Instead, it is meant as a constant reminder that time itself is a precious commodity.  Mike Ratri gave him the clock upon his admission to law school.  And though Norman’s enthusiasm for the present has dissipated, he cannot disagree with the principle behind the clock’s coded message.

Time can be a beautiful, but unforgiving mistress; yesterday’s opportunities are lost in the past, gone forever.

Perhaps, Norman muses, for his next graduation, he will receive a high-end watch from the Ratri clan.  Then he, along with his time, will be literally and figuratively shackled to the course the family’s scion has mapped out for him.  Norman knows he is regarded as the best of the bunch, the poster child amongst the extraordinary children born and raised in the demon world.  Ever rational, he cannot disagree with that conclusion.

Still, he rakes a finger under the collar cinched around his neck to loosen his tie and fusses with the first few buttons of his pressed shirt.  The emblem of Lambda 7214 peeks out from underneath the scoop neck of his undershirt, and not for the first time, Norman traces the tattoo’s hard lines where they are exposed.  Compared to this marking, the numbers on his neck are practically forgettable.

Norman isn’t like the other Grace Field children, not since Peter Ratri’s malicious experiments.  Neither can he lump himself in with the other Lambda survivors.  Though Barbara never shies away from advocating for the latter.

“Are you even listening?”  Barbara’s voice is shrill as it comes from the cellphone wedged between Norman’s shoulder and ear.

In the background, he can hear boxing gloves rhythmically pound against a punching bag.  Norman doesn’t like lying to Barbara; he knows what the woman is capable of when she’s feeling feisty.  But after hearing the juicy gossip from the younger children in his house, concerning a date between two certain someones, Norman’s mind refuses to focus on administrative matters.  Still, he tries to soldier on as if nothing is amiss.

“Of course,” Norman fibs.  “You’re concerned about the benefit, just like you are every year.  And every year, it turns out fine.  We get our funding; the Ratri family keeps their moral high ground.”

The sound of hard punch startles Norman, and Barbara pauses, slightly winded, before responding.  “But the problem is that they want Zazie to attend this year.  Zazie!”

The thought causes Norman to pause.  He is wont to recall Zazie as he once was — a child stuck in an overgrown body with a paper bag hiding his face and twin swords strapped to his back.  But Zazie, like his brothers and sisters, has grown into his shaggy hair, and in his case, his mental strides are much more impressive.

“What does Zazie think about attending the benefit?”

Barbara scoffs.  “He’s fine with going for a little while as long as he isn’t on his own, but why should he waste his precious words on that family ?  They don’t fund his therapy out of charity; they pay for it because his hardships, all our hardships, are their fault.”

Normally, Norman would play devil’s advocate.  He would remind Barbara that Mike isn’t like Peter and point out that most of the advances made on behalf of the cattle, Lambda and farm children are funded by the donations of the benefit’s attendees.  But tonight, Norman has no such fight in him.  He has four cases to read and brief, an argument to draft for his legal writing class and a Ray-and-Emma-shaped problem that seems to become more bizarre by the minute.

“I’ll talk to Mike and see if we can defer Zazie’s involvement,” Norman capitulates, rubbing at his neck as his to-do list grows longer.  “He may look like an adult, but he’s still a teenager.  It can be easy to forget.”

There’s a pregnant pause on the other side of Norman’s cell phone connection.

“Are you feeling alright, boss?”

A part of Norman wants to laugh, a great big belly laugh that would draw the kind of attention the household head does his best to avoid.  Of course, he isn’t alright.  It was a relief when he first made the decision to impose a fraternization ban, but then, Ray went and asked Emma out just to spite him.

Clever, impulsive asshole.

How could Norman go through with it after that?  Either he would have seemed like a heartless roadblock or a jealous cockblock to his siblings.  And neither alternative comes close to the truth, an inconvenient conundrum that’s been eating away at him for years.

Norman exhales, long and slow, and because he can ordinarily be (somewhat) honest with Barbara, he doesn’t lie to her this time.  He won’t divulge the whole, messy truth.  For that, he wouldn’t even know how to begin.  Heavy the head that wears the crown, or in this case, Norman thinks it’s more along the lines of a cape.

“No,” he responds, “I’m not alright.  But I’m sure I’ll be fine after exams.  I just need some time to rest and get my head on straight.  No need to be concerned.”

There’s a flurry of movement coming from Barbara’s side of the connection, and when she speaks again, her voice sounds unflinchingly clear. Norman braces himself when he realizes she’s paused her evening workout and taken herself off speakerphone.

“Far be it for me to suggest that you shouldn’t be living with the Grace Field kids, but you’re also one of us — a Lambda experiment.  We have different needs, and Lambda House could provide you with much more support or at least a break from being in charge.  Come live with us and let someone else run things over there.  We all miss you, boss.  Maybe someone could help you for a change.”

A lump sticks in Norman’s throat, and he swallows it, ready to make excuses that never arrive.  Words fail him for the umpteenth time in a handful of days.  Suddenly hot, he scratches the back of his neck and shrugs off his collared shirt entirely.  The top of his Lambda 7214 tattoo remains on full display.  Sometimes, he hides it so well that he begins to believe his own lies, but there are moments when the truth corrodes his carefully constructed facade.

Norman may be the brightest child from the demon world, but he’s also damaged goods, marked in ways that Ray (for example) is not.

He could live at Lambda House.  Correction, he should live at Lambda House to better avail himself of the on-call therapists for his night terrors and have his medication managed with more regularity.  But then, there would be no reason for Norman to oversee the Grace Field children’s home.  He wouldn’t be able to drag himself down to breakfast each morning to find her, Emma, sipping her coffee and joking around with the younger children, or feel his heart flutter when wishes him well in the evenings.

Norman stays because she’s worth all the small inconveniences and then some.  The time in between, the numbing hours spent studying, problem-solving and balancing the books, are a means to an end.  Emma always tips the scale in Grace Field’s favor.  Even with an anti-fraternization rule, Norman doesn’t expect his feelings to change.

Nevertheless….

“I’ll think about it,” Norman hears himself say, and he ends the call promptly with promises to be in touch soon simply to put the matter to rest.

Read the rest on AO3!

[alolanrain]

Have some random HC’s for the Champions. Their all in different lengths and I’m on mobile, as always, so be prepared for a LONG post.

——————

I love the very personal, and maybe a very heavy projected, HC I have that Ash is actually really tired all the time but his ADHD just gives him the drive to go Do Things because if he doesn’t he gets really bad anxiety and the giant need to Stim his arms off if he’s not moving. Like it’s hard for him to find the Zone to where he can sit still and not completely vibrate off his seat. So when he’s in Alola he like buys a bunch of different stim toys and Professor Kukui is kind of put off bu the amount he gets and the variety. Like I’m talking chew toys, the ones with silent buttons and tiny joy sticks, ones that just have weird textures that you just rub between your fingers, etc. Ash keeps them up in the loft near his bag of clothes and away from where Rockruff/Lycanroc can get to them and only takes one until it’s either destroyed/lost/or he ends up giving it to one of his friends who need to get some extra energy out and they usually forget to give it back to him until the end of the day. Kukui starts to see Ash’s grades rise pretty steadily and even starting to surpass a few others in the class, though he still lacks in certain categories like Math and Reading. Surprisingly Ash is excelling rapidly in the writing and history portion and during history lessens actually gently corrects Kukui on a few more really big recent events.

——

So like all the Champions father around for a more personal Q&A type of interview and one of the questions are “what’s your favorite type of flavor/food/dessert/etc? and why?”

Ash excitedly blurts out honey and that actually surprises a few of them, they honestly thought Ash would just say that he liked all foods. He goes and explains that his Grandma, before she past away, in Galar had this GIANT honey farm and she had stacks upon stacks of books ranging from dinner books to dessert books that use’s honey in the dishes. She had different flavors of honey, honey ice cream, somehow frozen honey that you suck on like a lollipop, this list goes on and on. She died when he was around 8 and all her bee Pokémon were donated to other honey farmers that she knew and wrote into her will. Delia wasn’t a fan of the bee Pokémon’s so she didn’t get one and Ash was really sad about that. He deflates afterwards and admitted he’s never had any of those treats/foods after her death besides plain honey sticks because he can’t find anything else that matches up to his Grandma’s honey and he’s not very keen on going and finding some bee Pokémon on his own since they need extensive care and constant attention which Ash can’t give with his lifestyle and work load.

Wallace soon pipes up that his favorite food of all time is actually mint chocolat ice cream because he and his dad, before he passed away from stage two Cancer, would go out each weekend in the summer tk a nearby ice cream stand and buy one come each before walking around the park that was right next to their house.

Leon adds that he actually likes food with lavender some how incorporated into it because his dad also liked lavender as well. He always brings a few lavender flowers every time he visits his dads grave with Hop when both are free to do so and that there’s only one restaurant in Wyndon that makes lavender ice cream and he and Raihan goes and get one after every match they have together. Even though Raihan likes stuff with Lemon in it instead of lavender.

Wallace jokes that Steven only likes plain stuff with vanilla in it but Lance fires back that Wallace always tries and makes homemade vanilla ice cream every year in Stevens birthday because he loves him.

Cynthia joins in that she craves mangos most of the time and she admits that she gets that from her Grandpa and even owns a giant cook book with all kinds of recipes with mangos incorporated.

Diantha likes dragon fruit a lot though she doesn’t have anything like a cookbook, she really likes this one restaurant that has a cooked dragon fruit dessert though.

Alder likes anything with cinnamon, he gets some light jokes at his dispense because of his hair color and him liking cinnamon, it was something he always loved from childhood.

———

Lance surprisingly wears the least amount of sleep wear among the Champions while Ash wears the most.

Like the most Lance is willing to wear on his very rare days off is a see through tank top and like some basketball shorts and that’s it.

Ash on the other hand is wearing a pair of sleep shorts under some giant pajama pants he snatched from one of his friends, a shirt, thick ass sweatshirt, and two pairs of socks on his feet.

———

Leon has this thing where he swaps one of his pillows with one of the reigning champions pillows. Like he has a red silky one from Lance, a soft white sliky one from Diantha, a long tan cased one from Alder, a black one from Steven and Wallace, and finally a grey t-shirt cotton one from Ash.

R*se tried to sneakily switch those pillows out for ones that actually match Leon’s room decor and bed spread. Leon got really offended that Rose would do such a thing, let alone having a fucking spare key to his house when Leon knows for a fact he didn’t say R*se or Oleana could have one, and promptly moved all his stuff from his house back to his mum’s and then sold his Wyndon house. R*se called Leon a child but Leon had called him out over Twitter and started the trend #PillowSnatcher

———

Alder can sing and sing very well. He usually only does it when one of his fellow colleagues are stressed or panicked. It’s deep and ironically his favorite song to sing under his breath is Chocolate Rain.

He finds it worryingly that he sings to Ash most of the time after he joins them on the line up, that and Leon is also an increasingly new occurrence.

———

Lance is League DadTM and Diantha runs an account where she, Cynthia, Alder, and the rest of the League try and catch Lance being a DadTM to Ash, Leon, and younger league members. It’s always captioned with “League Dad Strikes Again!” And Lance both hates it and loves it so much because it means he’s getting soft but Lance also doesn’t want to stop being a League DadTM because of the way the younger League always smiles more brightly at him when Lance remembers what snack or drink they like to consume after a hard day or by even just remembering their name at all.

He especially loves it when Ash gets all tired, this happened when he was much younger and started out as Lance’s secondary Champion, and sways on his feet back and forth nearing the end of a social gathering or some other kind of high end event. He was Lance’s escape excuse and he also liked to pick Ash up and have the kid snuggle into him. That action always bright him some sort of comfort knowing that he’s helping Ash.

———

On Mario Kart night they always end off it with a short Disney movie. Ash always finds himself squished between Lance and Leon. They’ed take the deepest couch to accommodate both Leon and Lance’s shoulder width. Ash would be settled on Leon’s chest and Lance would be facing away from the screen and curled up in Leon’s side. None of them really remember when this started but it soon became their end of the night ritual.

Leon also had to carry Lance and Ash back up to their secret rooms and more often then naught Leon got pulled into one of their beds for continued cuddling.

———

Speaking of Game Night!

Ash is usually the first one to the house that they always rent, and by ‘rent’ I mean it’s Wallace’s passed Uncles house that was given to him through his Will and that Wallace let’s people rent it out because it’s big and fancy and really affordable, and sets up everything.

This is where Ash’s keen sense of smell comes into play heavily becaus to him if one Champions smell mixes with another it could cause him to go into a bad headache. Like if the two Champions are cuddling or standing together Ash is completely fine! It’s just the objects that reek with their smell.

Wallace and Steven are by the lover sofa closest to the fire, Cynthia and Diantha have their blankets and pillows spilling onto the floor off of the two person sofa because that’s how they usually end up, Lance is mostly on the floor or he’ll join Alder who has the longest Sofa in the furthest in the back because he likes to read and also people watch the other Champions having fun, and Ash and Leon mostly share the more deeper width couch since Leon likes to use this time to catch up and sleep and Ash likes to use Leon as a cuddle buddy.

All their stuff is color coded as well; Wallace has teal, Steven has gray, Diantha has black, Diantha has white, Alder had reddish-orange, Lance has a dark red, Leon has purple, and Ash has dark blue.

Usually at the end of the night everyone kind of steal one thing from everyone else’s piles throughout the night. Like Wallace and Steven would be sharing one of Lance’s blankets and Wallace would have stollen Diantha’s Pangoro Pillow Pet. Alder has taken one of Ash’s pillows that had fallen to the floor and one of Stevens gray weighted blankets out of his thirty-something spares because EVERYONE likes to steal his weighted blankets instead of bringing their own.

———

All the rest of the adults are very worried for Ash’s mental health and would constantly ask if he’s okay or if there’s anything they can do to help support him or his friends. Like the kid could ask for anything and they’ll try their damn best to get it for him because Ash has risked his life for the world and their Region. It’s the least they can do for him.

This also causes Ash to get very awkward and uncharacteristically shy most of the time or to start crying softly because what their doing is a hell of a lot more then a lot of people back at his home town and this is including his mom and Professor Oak who prefer not to talk about Ash’s... Little Incidents.

The first crying session had Lance practically pulling tooth by tooth out of Ash until the older champion got the whole storie. Lance then preceded to pull every blackmail, illegal evidence, and use almost every advantage of his title and position to get the kid to be able to meet Lance’s therapist. Ash was floored and very shy through out most of it until the end when Lance’s therapist made a little headway into Ash’s obvious PTSD and problems.

It’s kind of become their thing that every time Ash is home for more then a few weeks he and Lance would go to their Therapist for a joint session over something they both share. After they leave they go to a nearby tea shop and talk about some much more lighter subjects.

———

Ash bickers a lot with most of the Legendaries. It’s gotten to the point of sibling like name calling. There’s videos taken of Ash calmly calling Zekrom a dirt eater or Kyogre a off colored off sized Wailord.

———

Back to the favorite food thing. Ash has this stupid fucking OP ability where if he consumes any kind of thing with honey in it, all his open wounds/big bruises would magically stitch back together. No one, and including Ash, knows where he got the stupid ability or when it started to happen but after every big Incident or when he gets hurt Ash, his friends, or a league member would go quickly grab him something with honey in it.

His favorite so far has to be some hibiscus tea with honey that Professor Kukui made him after they had come back from saving Lusamine. Ash had gotten large bruises at his side and Kukui worriedly watched them slowly disappear after like five minutes and Ash had gulped down three cups of the cold tea.

[mvdcleines]

hi, everyone!!  this is dede (19, she/her, utc+2), and i’m pleased to introduce st. margaret mary’s favourite eccentric artist and the life of every party on campus, miss marie-madeleine lefebvre! more info under the cut. feel free to add me on discord (@***** ***#0688)!

the basics.

name: marie-madeleine lefebvre

age: 26 years old

occupation: graduate student (art history major)

chastitiy club position: secretary / dealer

the story.

I’M FEELING DEVIOUS.

as a young girl, they told her she was special. that she was the most intelligent child they could ever hope for, that one day, she would have some sort of great destiny to fulfill, something incredible to contribute to the world. and that, they said, is why she couldn’t just stay in school along with all the other children she’s ever known. it would be better for her if she learned some actual new things, they explained, and that is why this special program some unknown third party recommended to them would be the perfect solution. of course, it was in the pyrenées, far from normandy, where her home was and where they themselves were - but it would let her reach that potential that was inside of her already. she wanted to become learned and well-respected like papa, didn’t she? that’s what they thought.

YOU’RE LOOKING GLAMOUROUS.

the route of mathematics they chose for her back at home was something of a mistake, quickly corrected by those at the gifted children’s program. they trained her in all sorts of knowledge, skills and sciences. the work was hard, harder than ever before. she didn’t have to really study before, she just… remembered what was said in classes. now it was a completely different world from what she’d known, and the change didn’t seem to be for the better. her days passed her by quickly, over textbooks, required reading, notes and guides, learning to have a sharp mind as well as excellent manners, to think critically while following every possible rule of savoir-vivre known to the world. she didn’t want to be worse than all the other students there, didn’t she? that’s what they thought.

LET’S GET MISCHIEVOUS.

the life they had planned for her down to the second couldn’t seem appealing anymore as soon as she could really grasp it - when she had some time to even think about it, that is, in the middle of the night. there had to be more to being a teenage girl than absorbing facts like a sponge. a purposeless sponge, since now it didn’t seem so eager to have the floor wiped with it. the ability to pick one’s own courses came soon after that. of course, the choice was mostly up to the parents. but not if someone decided to, say, not read the letters they sent at all and refuse to answer any calls before picking what would distress them the most - any and all art-oriented courses the program had to offer. and after learning she was immensely dedicated to and rather proficient in painting, they wouldn't forbid something that brought such promise, would they? that's what she thought.

AND POLYAMOROUS.

when one achieves small victories, they only fuel the need for newer, bigger, more impactful ones. her case wasn't any different. she could find an academic path she was truly interested in and wanted to continue pursuing - could securing a social standing possibly be harder? she'd read and watched stories about wild, free-spirited women. surely such a woman would be appreciated in these strict surroundings as a break from the monotony. and so she was - the next year, when she was young and sweet, only seventeen, was an endless series of laughs. she laughed when a new social circle accepted her at her table in the cafeteria. she laughed as she choked on her first cigarette. she laughed, pulling the hands of two different boys at once, looking if no teacher could see them running to an empty dorm. she laughed when an older friend brought her a bag of coke for the first time. and when they told her to take her things, she laughed still, walking out the gates. nothing they did could bring her down, could it? that's what she thought. 

WINE AND WOMEN AND WONDERFUL VICES.

all the pointless knowledge forced into her head wasn’t something she terribly missed. there was, however, still a host of problems to be taken care of. the first was, of course, the family she’d left back home. they were displeased with her getting expelled to say the least, and didn’t seem to be easy to appease. the second was her art. for all her distaste for the schooling system, she did at last have something she wanted to practice - something she wanted to master, to turn into a career, to be better, the best at. as luck would have it, both these problems had a solution. the family, thinking it would be an excellent continuation of her education, pulled some strings to get her accepted into some catholic university in paris - paris, with all its sights and nightlife, was an offer she couldn’t refuse. besides, the art history courses seemed cut out for her. she quickly regained the exact reputation she had in her previous environment - of the life of the party, the one who makes life interesting - and can still pull her weight and pass any exam after a year of slacking off in the brief moments she’s not painting or attending yet another rager. she couldn’t have it any other way, could she? that’s what she thought.

WELCOME TO THE CULT OF DIONYSUS.

the newly revived chastity club was something she chose to look into for one reason and one reason only: it seemed like the most hilarious extracurricular concept she’d ever heard of in her life. to be fair, it was even funnier when she discovered the true purpose of the club - and when she just sort of stayed there. the people, contrary to what she’d assumed, were not complete prudes - well, most of them - and they seemed to see the potential in her. she truly was valuable to their grand operation - with her reputation, her contacts and all the events she got invited to. before she thought about it twice, she was their partner in literal crime - and they’d somehow managed to become her closest companions at st. margaret mary’s. the sweet rush of adrenaline dealing provided her with wasn’t comparable to anything. maybe except for how at home she felt among these people, no matter how sappy that sounded. they needed their secretary, and she needed them, didn’t she? that’s what they thought.

the headcanons.

while the style marie-madeleine practices currently in her works (and has been for a while) is decidedly surreal (some would go as far as to call it psychedelic… i wonder why), she has dabbled in impressionism in the past, leaving it after she found it too restricting (and after she started, to put it mildly, enhancing her perception with recreational substances while painting more routinely).

despite the gifted children’s program having taught her critical thinking and a rational, mostly agnostic approach to life, marie-madeleine is very superstitious and interested in the occult, frequently giving semi-clandestine tarot readings to fellow students at st. margaret mary’s, an activity frowned upon by more religious classmates and the school itself. no one truly knows if she actually believes what she says she does or if these practices are more ironic on her part, simply another facet of the eccentric artist mythos she’s built up around herself.

marie-madeleine prefers to use her full, hyphenated first name instead of just marie, even if most people end up calling her just that out of convenience; some would say she revels in the biblical ‘sinner’ allegory, and she frequently makes jokes about her new testament namesake.

she’s gotten in trouble with the chastity club a few times before for exchanging their stock for notes she couldn’t be bothered to take but needed to study for major exams, although substituting some of her own money for the earnings she would have otherwise brought in always got her off scot-free.

she has, at some point, come across the concept of gifted kid burnout and recognized it in herself, although it didn’t bother her like some may think it would. like all her non-social responsibilities, it was just another thing to push to the back of her head.

she has a few bottles of bourbon, her alcohol of choice, hidden in strategic spots around campus, including her handbag, some of the ladies’ rooms and more. no one knows where they all are - probably including marie-madeleine herself.

marie-madeleine has always harbored something of a fondness for greek mythology, just for the sheer absurdity of it all and for what terrible beings the gods really were. then again, she’d been taught the old testament multiple times, and it didn’t seem that much nicer. whenever someone tells her she’s being a disappointment to god (more often than you’d think), she likes to think dionysus would be proud of whatever she’s doing.

she likes to write on the back of her paintings, but not just write anything - what she does is use a rather simple code she devised to mark what sort of influence she was under while painting the work in question. it just seems reasonable not to forget that.

while her drinking and drug use is pretty out of control, she doesn’t smoke as much now as she did when she was a teenager. perhaps it’s because drugs are more easily accessible to her now, or maybe cigarettes just got too boring.

she would never tell anyone this, but she has a particular love for fluffy things, especially clothes - during colder months, when no one can see her, she walks around her apartment in a thick, fluffy robe and matching slippers.

she’s a cat person if the choice is only between that and dogs, but what she really prefers pet-wise is birds. she currently owns a black-headed caique named amadeus.

despite needing it to keep up the chastity club rouse, she doesn’t keep up an appearance of religiosity in front of classmates, as it would directly contradict most of her image at st. margaret mary’s. when it comes to staff, however, she’s a perfect, if unconventional, follower of jesus christ as far as they’re concerned.

she thinks it’s very funny to sneak up on others and then say something out loud when she knows it will scare them nearly to death. complaints have been heard, but not taken to heart.

her favourite holiday is surely halloween, partially because everyone suddenly wants her to do their makeup, partially because there’s twice as many parties as usual, and partially because of how triggered the most religious of her fellow students get, which she finds hilarious.

she likes to gesticulate a lot while speaking, and has gotten in trouble for this back at the gifted children’s program when she accidentally slapped a bypassing teacher in the face.

despite acting like a leo (or perhaps aquarius) stereotype, she is actually a sagittarius (shocker).

she grows vegetables on her balcony, and somehow always forgets to collect them until it’s too late. it just happens every time and she’s stopped fighting it at this point.

it’s sometimes funny to her how much conspiracy and care is being put into the chastity club’s weed trade, simply because of how lightly she views weed when compared to what she usually stuffs her system with in her spare time.

tba!

the aesthetics.

a red wine stain, striking against silky fabric. the devious smile of someone who knows exactly what will happen next. a worn-out deck of tarot cards. traces of cocaine on a marble counter. the bold, firm strokes of a brush on canvas. a half-eaten plum. a shawl flowing along as you move. the remains of paint on your fingers. a small bottle of bourbon hidden behind books on a shelf. healing crystals. ignoring responsibility until it goes away. golden hoop earrings. a broken high heel.

the wanted plots.

the good influence ( 0/1 ). another person different from marie, but in this case, they managed to strike up a friendship that probably ends with them lending her a few brain cells in exchange for what amounts to the ‘ted, i’m gonna teach you how to live’ gif from himym.

the rival ( 0/1 ). was it something in their shared past? just a general friction between people, as it often is? no matter why, these two don’t like each other in the slightest and will do most anything to show the other who’s the better... well... chastity club member here.

the neighbor/roommate/someone crashing on her couch ( 0/1 ). just because domesticity is adorable.

more to be added, but if you have ideas, hit me up!!

[justjessame]

Home Sweet Home Chapter 4

I could hear the lyrical sound of Aria’s giggles ringing from the kitchen as I came down the stairs barely twenty minutes after Harvey had taken her downstairs to get breakfast started.  The scent of vanilla and cinnamon mingled with the sweeter fragrance of maple syrup warned me of a sticky welcome waiting for me in the form of French toast and a happier toddler.  

Sure enough, she was in her booster seat with what I felt certain was her second piece of perfectly made, just messy enough breakfast bordering on dessert with a far jollier disposition than what she left me with upstairs.  

“Mama, look,” she waved her fork, holding a piece of her toast and I bit my lip, hoping that she’d stabbed it tight enough to keep it in place until she got it to her mouth.  Either my prayer, or her will to keep every piece for herself was strong, because it made it to its proper end and her grin was infectious.  

Smiling, I moved closer and leaned over to rub my nose against hers, pleased to see it was still free of sugar and goop.  “You’re gonna be so hyper and ready to play with Grandma,” I murmured, pulling back as Harvey’s body molded into mine to helpfully place my plate on the table beside Aria’s before he joined his two girls.  “I’m sure Daddy wanted to make sure you two had so much fun, that’s why he picked French toast.”  Our eyes met over our little girl’s head and his were twinkling with the mischievousness that told me I was correct.  “I’m surprised you didn’t think to add powdered sugar for an extra kick,” shaking my head I took a sip from my juice before skipping the syrup and adding just a bit of butter to my slice.  

“Considered it,” Harvey admitted, making me giggle.  “Thought it might be pushing it just a bit.”  His nose crinkled and that did it, the giggle grew and Aria, not quite sure what was so damn funny went with it and joined my laughter.  

Breakfast with the three of us wasn’t all that rare, but after what Harvey had dealt with in Chicago, we lingered a bit longer.  I lingered longer, needing the reassurance that we were still alright.  That he was real and fine.  That Aria’s daddy and my husband was - I didn’t really understand why it took this particular case to force me to face the reality of what Harvey actually did for a living, for a calling, but it was a harsh dose. 

When we heard my mom’s voice calling out, Aria had forgotten that she was sad that Grandma was coming to visit.  She forgot that Grandma coming meant less time alone with Daddy.  She clapped and was nearly as excited about her visiting as she had been about the big ‘monee’.  

The same could not be said of Harvey.  “Here we go -” his eyes closed, as if he were mentally preparing for the worst, or praying for strength and I sighed.

“There you are,” Mom said, coming into the kitchen with a grin, her eyes focused on Aria.  “There’s Grandma’s little peacock.”  She held out her arms and Aria held up her own as Mom clucked her tongue.  “I see SOMEONE thought starting out the day with copious amounts of sugar would be the best way to jump start tiny little minds.  Guess you and I are starting OUR day with a bath, Aria.”  Mom shook her head and smiled down at me once she got our little one settled in her arms.  “Today’s a regular schedule, isn’t it Everlea?”  I nodded, suddenly thinking that MAYBE Harvey was right.  “That color really looks lovely on you, sweetheart.”  I was about to remind her that Harvey was RIGHT THERE, but then she sniffed.  “I suppose that YOU are going to be underfoot today?”  She barely glanced at him, but a shift of her eyes included my husband in the conversation.  “After that mess you all made of Chicago yesterday, I’d have thought YOUR people would be on hand to clean it up.  Isn’t that what you brag about doing?  Cleaning CRAP up?”  

My eyes widened, how had I missed this?  It wasn’t even that hard to see.  Dear God.  I glanced at Harvey and his eyes were on me in a clear message of ‘told you so’.  “I get to paper push today, Evelyn.” He was being polite, and short.  “As soon as I’m done, you can head on out and me and MY girl can have Daddy and mini me time.”  

“Mimi Me time!” Aria picked up the thread and ran with it, forcing Mom’s eyebrows to try to meet in the middle.  Shit.  

“Chicago was a poo-show,” Mom was adamant that we NOT curse around Aria, and she was the poster woman for it.  Little did she know, Aria might be a parrot about most things, but we’d managed to figure out the code for how to keep her from NOT repeating THOSE words.  “Surely you’ll be up to your poo colored eyeballs in paper pushing to clean it up.”  

I was watching them lob verbal hits back and forth, because Harvey had a comeback locked and ready for her.  “Why, Evelyn, I didn’t know you paid attention to the color of my eyes.  I’m flattered.”  That damn dimple of his coming out even as he followed up with more on the likelihood of work taking all day.  “As for the paperwork?  How hard is it to write ‘big animals wrecked city, fix it, now’?  I’m not a genius, but even I can type that over and over.”  

It was like a tennis match of words, and I was in the middle of it, but my eyes managed to make a detour to the clock and I knew I had to go.  Standing up, which forced a time out, I kissed Aria first.  Telling her to be good for Grandma, let Daddy work - which got a smirk from Mom - and then I turned to Harvey.  The look in his eyes made me want to shake my head, but seeing that he was right, my mom really did have a grudge against him, for some reason had me react in a completely different way.

Instead of a nice, staid, we’ve-been-married-for-long-enough-to-be-comfortable type of goodbye kiss - I stepped up to him and when our lips met the same passion flared up that had in the shower, or the bathtub, or our bed.  If my mother wanted to freak out because Harvey had helped me create our daughter.  The same little girl she was holding and who she couldn’t spoil enough, I’d like to add.  Then this kiss would sear into her brain that the love and passion that went into making Aria still burned bright and wasn’t ending any time soon.  

“Honestly,” Mom muttered, when we finally broke apart, but our eyes were still locked on one another.  “Do you think that’s appropriate for Aria to see?”

“I’ll see you tonight,” I promised Harvey, ignoring my mother for a beat.  “We’ll continue THIS -”

The rough skin of Harvey’s thumbpad brushed the skin under my eye.  “I’m holding you to that.”  He looked like I felt like parting today felt wrong and was harder than it ever had been.  “I love you.”  

“Love you, too.”  With a sigh, I pulled away to face Mom who had let Aria down.  I guess her arms got tired.  “Yes, Mom, it’s appropriate for Aria to see that her parents love one another.  There is NOTHING wrong with a child seeing displays of affection. It’s not like we were having sex.”

Mom sniffed at me, as if our kiss - which was admittedly bordering on a makeout session in the kitchen - was far greater than a display of affection.  “You’re going to be late, Ever.”  

“It’s MY office, Mom.”  I was moving toward the door anyway.  “Thank you for coming over,” I kissed her on the cheek as I passed her.  “Be nice to him?  Please?”  

“No promises, Everlea Grace.”  Her tone wasn’t nearly as stern though, so I had hope that I’d come home to a house still standing and my family intact.

The best part about leaving my position as the attending physician in the emergency room and starting up my own practice wasn’t just that it was less stress or the shorter hours.  It was the small group of people I’d brought together to create a clinic that felt warm and comforting, while also managing to give our patients the confidence in our expertise.  

I was thankful that the day went as smoothly as I expected from a regular day, no surprises, no upheaval to my routine.  As I hung up my stethoscope after my final patient was on her way out the door, having gotten her next appointment scheduled and I double checked that I’d sent her prescriptions through to her pharmacy, I was debating whether I should call home to see if I was walking into a disaster area or if Mom and Harvey had called a truce.

“Everlea?”  I’d been grabbing my bag and keys from my office when my receptionist, Kendra, ducked her head through the door.  Looking up, she took it as an opening to continue.  “Harvey called while you were with Mrs. Callahan.”  I waited, hoping it was something benign, and not a call telling me he was off to make another shitty bed.  “He wanted me to ask you to pick up a bottle of wine, whatever your mom prefers?”  She shrugged her shoulder and I nodded.

“Thanks, Kendra.”  I pulled my bag across my chest.  “I think Mark is still in Exam 3 with Mr. Randolph -”

She grinned at me.  “Yeah, it’s his monthly, so it’ll take a while to get through the list.”  Mr. Randolph did like to be thorough when he had his monthly visit.  “Don’t worry, Everlea, we’ll lock up.”

“I know you will,” I assured her.  “I just wanted to make sure I remembered.”  Shaking my head, I thought how long the past twenty-four hours seemed.  

“Hey,” my eyes met hers.  “Harvey’s practically indestructible, Everlea, and he’s home, right?”  

I sighed.  “I know, I know.”  Moving toward the door, Kendra moved with me, following behind so she could lock the entrance behind me so no one wandered in after hours.  Letting Mr. Randolph out was nothing compared to telling someone we weren’t a walk-in clinic.  “I can’t seem to shake it this time.”  

“Well,” Kendra took her time before she spoke, obviously thinking about my predicament.  “I guess, if you think about it, it was bound to happen eventually.  I mean, the stress has to compound to the point that it gets too heavy at some point, right?”  

Another sigh and I nodded.  “I guess, but I really wish it hadn’t.”  

Kendra was chuckling as I crossed over to outside.  “No one wants that kind of stress, but you and Harvey will figure it out -”

“We always do,” I supplied, my smile returning, thinking about how that was Harvey’s line.

[weartirondad]

Sometimes Home Is A Mess

Prompt: “Please don’t leave me, I can’t do this without you.”“(With bby Peter and Tony) The Avengers are paroned from the according and return to the tower but haven't really asked for forgiveness. Baby Peter remembers days his dad returning with a limp and dent heart. Peter being a little genius connect the dots is now clinging to his father he felt he could have lost. Seeing the avengers gives no only Tony anxiety but to Peter as well. He scream and cries when he's so much a inch away from his farther heart. begging him not to go or leave his side.” (Anon)

A/N: Set after You Made Me A Believer. You don’t hafta read it together but you could.  Also check out this amazing song Home - by Stefanie Heinzmann 

Summary:  When the Avengers break apart, Tony is tired and worn and broken but Peter is there and it helps. -- When the Avengers get pardoned a year later because the world decides they need their heroes back Tony is worn from the fights he fought to get them there and Peter is still there.

FF.net I ao3 

--

There’s a dull ache behind his temple when his fuzzy mind clambers back into consciousness and a throbbing pain sits right behind his sternum. The feeling of his chest split open and his every muscle battered and bruised is a distressingly familiar one and for the briefest of moments the air around him feels too humid and dirty.

He can taste the blood and the sweat and smells the burned flesh and metal. He hears the crunching of sand between his teeth when he moves his jaw. He sees red and feels cold.

He’s not there, though, he knows that. Knows it by the way his ribs are cracked in a meticulously designed half-oval and by the memories he can’t push away.

His near death experience years ago in that cave in Afghanistan feels small, manageable, compared to the new betrayal. The new incision cut open scar tissue he’s been trying his hardest to forget but it’s different this time, somehow, more personal.

A humorless laugh slips past his dry lips at the thought of something being more personal than what Obie did to him and soon after he starts coughing, wincing when each and every fiber of his body is cataloging more pain until he feels it’s all he is.

“Jar?”

The name is out before he can think better of it and when it is – warm and familiar and soothing on his tongue – the wrong voice replies, hesitant in a way JARVIS wouldn’t have been. But Jarvis is Vision now and doesn’t have to answer to him anymore – not like that at least. Just another soul slipping from his desperate fingers that are always searching for a meaning, closeness, a family.

“You seem agitated, boss. Do you want me to call for help?”

He wants to scoff at the notion but thinks better of it, eyes still closed, mouth still dry.

“No,” he croaks out eventually because he doesn’t want help – doesn’t deserve it either. If he has to keep living, he wants to do it like this – in darkness and alone. He wants to embrace the shadows that have been hovering at his doorstep for as long as he can remember.

Some famous dead guy once said ‘We're born alone, we live alone, we die alone.’ and that’s exactly what he wants to do. Somewhere without the hurt, the constant betrayal and disappointment. He just wants peace.

That's all he’s ever wanted.

It’s all he’ll never get.

When F.R.I.D.A.Y. stays quiet he feels tears burn in his eyes. JARVIS would’ve ignored his orders.

He’s close to drifting off again when a small commotion startles him awake – survival instinct kicking in, even in a tower better secured than Fort Knox he’s always alert, always expecting something to attack.

This particular assault, though, makes his heart lighter and his muscles relax for the first time since… since that bunker probably. Since that god forsaken video.

“Peter is here to see you, boss, he asks if you’re up.” The AI’s voice is fond and it eases the pain of missing his old friend. F.R.I.D.A.Y. and Peter are getting along. Peter loves the Irish voice and the way she’s coded. To him she’s family just like Vision is.

“Let him in.”

It’s only been a few months since that fatal shooting that lead him to the boy and his aunt but ever since then they have taken up such a huge part of his life that he can’t remember a time when he didn’t have a kid running through his living room, dropping pens and paper and Lego everywhere.

When Peter is there, every corner of the empty tower is filled with life and laughter and love. He drives the ghosts and memories away, replaces them with new ones – better ones, purer ones – without realizing what he’s doing.

The squirt comes barreling into the room, arms clutching a lime green notebook to his chest, eyes twinkling and lips moving with rambles Tony’s dazed mind doesn’t quite catch.

He is young. He is life. He is hope.

He is everything Tony isn’t.                                                          

But then he stops and takes him in and his mouth slams shut, the audible click of his teeth like a gunshot in the sterile room. The smile in his eyes drains like a plug being pulled and there’s something wary in them now – a mind trapped in a memory – and there’s fear and hesitation.

“Tony?” he asks, voice eons away from the happy one he craves to hear. “Wha – What happened?”

Peter doesn’t drop the notebook like Tony might have. Instead he clutches it more tightly to his chest when he slowly steps closer to the bed, entire posture guarded and tense, ready to bolt at any second but not really wanting to.

“I,” he sighs because he hates lying and then tries not to wince which goes less than successful, “I got into a fight,” is what he settles on but he can see by the frown forming on Peter’s forehead that he’s suspicious. “You know how the super hero life goes – criminals don’t like being stopped.”

It’s a pathetic attempt at a joke and he knows that even with six years Peter can see right through his façade. Damn this kid and his emotional intelligence.

“Normal criminals don’t get that close,” he retorts quietly and then adds, voice dropping: “Pepper said you went out to help Captain America.”

Ah. Well, that’s just unfortunate.

“I did.”

“He hurt you.”

“Maybe I hurt him too.”

That makes the boy pause and look down, gaze stopping on his bruised hand that is connected to an IV stand next to his bed. Somehow, when he looks up again he looks older.

“Mister Vision had to fly out to get you back. If Captain America was that hurt he would’ve brought him back, too.”

Tony hates the matter of fact way he says it and the distrust that swings in his voice when speaking about one of his child hood heroes. He wants to take it all away but he finds that he’s too worn to lie, too tired to comfort, so he does what he does best and deflects.

“I thought you didn’t like hospitals.”

Peter shrugs like it’s not a big deal but his knuckles are turning white with the force he uses to clutch his notebook and when he mumbles a reply he doesn’t meet his eyes, “’S not a real hospital. ‘S like home. I was –“ He breaks off blushing and voice small when he finally looks at him again, “Are you okay?”

A small smile graces Tony’s lips and, to his utmost surprise, it doesn’t feel fake. He likes it when Peter calls the tower home. It feels like a spark of hope that it might be one again one day.

“I’m better now that I’ve got my favorite person in the whole world around to blow kisses on my booboos,” he grins and scoots over to make room on his bed for Peter.

It’s what they usually do when he gets back from a mission and is resting on the couch or his bed and Peter doesn’t waste another second to comply, jumping up and nestling into his side like a cat like he always does.

Like clockwork Tony’s arm winds around the boy’s back despite the pain the movement elicits and Peter leans forward to receive the usual kiss to the top of his head. When he leans back to scrutinize Tony his nose is adorably scrunched up and he looks slightly indignant. “Y’ know, booboo is a baby word and I’m a big boy.”

“Oh, you’re a big boy now, are you?” The offended puppy eyes melt away the last of the Siberian ice and he yields to the little boy. “Okay, okay. You’re a big boy,” he acquiesces, “So what kind of big boy stuff have you been up to while I was gone?”

Peter jumps right into it, pulling up his notebook and showing him how he has been practicing writing cursive. It became a thing just before Peter started school in summer that Tony would start to teach him the art of cursive writing. The moment he saw May’s awful handwriting for the first time he knew he couldn’t let the poor boy learn on that alone, so he took it upon himself to coach him on the intricacies of it.

Despite popular belief he actually loved writing things by hand and he had a good handwriting – it was just impractical most of the time and when did he ever do things for fun?  

The kid is still flicking through his book looking for a particular page when Tony startles both of them with a laugh.

“Did you,” he snorts and blinks away the moisture in his eyes that he’s not sure comes from the pain or the laughter, “Did you really write my name on there? C’mere, show me that!”

The hand not holding Peter in place tugs the book out of his hands and flicks to the side where he had painted a big Iron Man helmet and had written his superhero’s persona’s name next to it for Peter to practice writing the capital I. Peter, being Peter, though had decided to defy him on all accounts and had written his name – Anthony Edward Stark – over and over until the page was full. Ending on a half- finished Anthony Edw –

The writing is shaky and awkward because some of the letters they haven’t even practiced yet but all of them are correct and in that moment Tony loves Peter more than he could ever put into words, more than he ever thought he could love someone and he laughs again and this time he knows the tears are from both the pain of what he’s lost and from the bliss – the future – he’s holding in his arms.

“You think you’re being really funny, don’t ya?”

Peter scoffs and sticks his tongue out at him. “I am funny.”

Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou

“I really love you buddy, you know that?”

“’Course I do. You tell me all the time.”

 -.-

When the Avengers get pardoned a year later because the world decides they need their heroes back Tony is worn from the fights he fought to get them there.

He’s scared and anxious and angry but when he steps out into the penthouse Peter is sitting there – the picture of a content child – working on a LEGO set Tony is sure is above his age range and his inner storm calms when he approaches and sits down cross-legged next to him, watching him align the pieces carefully and with his tongue tucked between his teeth.

Maybe it’s selfish to break him out of his concentration, maybe he should just let him be but he needs Peter’s strength right now, needs his smile to build up his own because he’s tired and he’s wary and he needs to be reminded what he’s doing all this for.

“Hey bud,” he greets him with a hair ruffle and presses a kiss to the top of his head, lingering an instant longer than he normally would to breathe in the familiar scent. It’s home and it’s safe and it’s wonderful.

“Whataya up to?”

Peter beams up at him and somehow it makes his heart lighter and heavier at the same time. “May got me an AT-AP Walker Set! Pepper promised to help me build it but Morgan was hungry and I think she pooped herself,” he sniffs as if thinking back to a truly awful memory and Tony can’t help the smile forming on his lips. “Do you wanna help, too?”

“I would love to,” he sighs dramatically and leans back against the couch, watching Peter with a lazy smile. When he’s here like this he can almost forget what comes after. “But I still got an important meeting in, uh, five minutes and just wanted to drop by to, uh, say hi.”

Almost.

Slowly Peter puts down the grey bricks he has been working on and eyes him critically. “You never come home early when you still have a meeting,” he notes, “Unless you’re not going to the meeting but I think Pepper’d be mad if it’s important.”

“Shush,” he rolls his eyes and reaches out again to ruffle his hair. A part of him just wants to hold his boy close and never let go but the bigger part doesn’t want to worry him and to keep him as far away from all of this as possible. Which might not be very far for long.

“I promise I’m going. I just wanted to see something cute before I spend the next few hours with all these boring old folks.”

“I’m not cute,” the squirt quips back and goes back to sorting his bricks, “Morgan is cute. I’m –“

“Yeah, you’re what, Petey? Adorable? Precious? As sweet as the marshmallow fluff that’s giving you cavity? Delightful, maybe? Or what about-“

Suddenly his mouth his covered by a small sweaty hand and he can see how Peter is trying to be serious but he’s failing to suppress a giggle. “I’m not cute.”

Seizing the opportunity he tackles the kid into a hug and holds him close, “Okay, whatever buddy,” he breathes into his hair, “You know I love you, right?”

Soft curls tickle his nose when Peter nods dutifully and he knows he has to leave soon, knows he’s already running late and he can’t be – not for this. But suddenly letting go is so much harder than just getting his muscles to release the small body. The conference room suddenly seems so much farther away than just two stories down, it feels like they’re worlds apart and he likes this one better.

“Steve Rogers is requesting entry to the penthouse,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. interrupts his musings and just like that he feels Peter freeze in his hold and look up at him, eyes wide and betrayed and scared.

“What’s he doing here?” he demands, “What does he want? Why’d you let him in? Wh –“ Then, suddenly, he stills and glares, pushing away from Tony’s grasp and crossing his arms in front of his chest in a way that looks less like defiance and more like he’s shielding himself.  

“He’s your meeting, isn’t he?” he all but spits out and it sounds like the ultimate betrayal. His voice is shaking with anger and his doe eyes, usually soft and loving, are as closed off as Tony has ever seen them.

He pushes himself up to sit on the couch instead of on the ground so they’re eye-level and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Without looking away from Peter, he raises his voice to talk to his AI.

“Tell him access denied and I’ll be with them in just a sec.”

“Them,” Peter narrows his eyes, “Who’s them?”

“The Avengers, Peter, I’m sure you’ve heard of them,” he retorts and immediately feels guilty when there’s a flash of hurt in his eyes. He sighs, head hanging, “Look, I’m sorry, Pete. I’m –“

Before he can decide on what to say, he’s being interrupted, something Peter rarely does and never when it’s important but the boy in front of him who dropped his arms and has his hands clenched to fists, shaking with fury isn’t the boy he usually deals with.

“Why are they here?”

“To talk.”

He wants to walk over to him and take him in his arms again to stop him from shaking like a leaf but he doesn’t want to tower over him, doesn’t want to crouch to be on his level either. This conversation is important and he knows he needs to stay put for now.

“The world needs the Avengers, Pete. We need them to protect the world. I need them to protect Morgan and – and to protect you. To protect my fa-“

“NO!” He all but screams and it has Tony mentally take a step back and stare when he’s stomping his foot and pulling his hair.

“No! No, no, no, no, no. NO!” he yells again, “I don’t need them! We – We don’t need them. We have you!” He scowls angrily. “You’re – You’re Iron Man! And they – I don’t trust them! I hate them! I want them to – I want them to go! Tell them to go away!”

Now, without trying to be braggadocios, Tony would say after helping raise Peter for almost two years and having a toddler of his own he has a pretty good grip on the whole parenting thing but – for fuck’s sake – he’s had it easy so far and never really had to deal with an actual tantrum before.

Sure, Morgan fusses and cries and wails like the world is ending sometimes but a four-month-old tantrum is much different from Peter having a meltdown in front of him. Peter, the most well behaved boy on the planet who rather screams into his pillow than at people and who, for reasons he tries not to dwell on, never ever pushes May or him away in fear of pushing too far and losing too much.

Peter is a good kid. Sometimes he’s angry, sometimes he’s sad and sometimes he has so many emotions he doesn’t know how to deal with that he shuts down but the last time Tony has seen him this helplessly angry was the night he found him in a dark alleyway bend over his uncle’s dead body.

The entirety of his small body seems to be filled with rage. He’s trembling with it, overflowing with fury and what looks like something that’s much too close to hatred for Tony to ever want to see it in his boy’s eyes ever again.

He remembers the first time he had to calm him down, remembers the blood and the pain and the harsh light of the streetlamps and he hates it. Hates the Rogues for making Peter feel that way again more than he hates them for leaving in the first place.

“Kiddo,” he murmurs and slides down from the couch, sitting cross legged and with open arms in front of the shaking kid. He doesn’t scoot closer even though he wants to and tries to beckon him towards him with his voice alone. “They won’t hurt you, I promise. I would never let anyone hurt you.”

“But they hurt you.” Peter hasn’t moved yet but his voice has dropped a few pitches and some of the anger is seeping out of his shoulder. Tony would only count it as a half-win, though, when it’s instantly replaced by sadness and fear. Those he knows how to deal with at least.

“I don’t want them to hurt you again,” he whispers, taking a timid step forward and letting Tony reach for his hands that are hanging listlessly by his side. He watches him uncurl them quietly and when he looks up to meet his gaze again there are tears running down his cheeks. “You have to take care,” he demands reverently and takes another step forward, dropping into Tony’s lap and throwing his arms around the older man’s neck.

“You have to take care and come back,” he presses into his collarbone, “You can’t – Please don’t leave me all alone. I only have May and you and I can’t do this without you. I can’t. You have to promise!”

Oh Peter.

Tony pulls the small boy impossibly closer, rubbing a hand over his back and pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I promise I’ll always come back home to you, kiddo.”

And maybe that’s an unfair promise to make when he can’t ever be sure he’ll be able to keep it. Maybe lying makes him a bad parent. But right now he has his kid crying into his t-shirt and he’d do anything to make it better and so he promises himself that he’ll always do his best and fight his hardest to make sure he’ll always be there to make it better.

[sugaxjpg]

04 | blank check; m

⤷ “Let me get this right, okay? You threw my name in as your fake girlfriend because you needed to prove yourself to your empty-headed friends, and now you need to fix it. Still,” you paused, raising your eyebrows, “your way of fixing is not to disclose it as a lie, but to cover it up with an even bigger and riskier one. Is that correct?”

⤷ PART 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | Co-written with @pantaemonium

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Fuckboy!AU & FakeDating!AU

✓ Filed under: smut, tragic comebacks

✓ Words: 6,892

Author’s Note: And here it is... whatever this is. Laura and I are sorry. Also, Part 5 will be a bit longer than the ones we have put out so far, so pls be patient!! It’ll come :,) 

Your debate class had its intense, hair-pulling moments in the past — from the dichotomy of the current political climate to philosophical dialogues about Descartes’ universal doubt — but, every once in a while, even your professor would get stressed at the constant bickering of his top 10 students and, instead, would chose a dumb theme that the class could find some sort of humor in. After some time, even that showed itself to be an obstacle, since most of your classmates had their head so far up their own ass that they forgot what the sun looked like, even less what it was to have a chill, borderline comical, conversation with another human being.  

And that was where you and Namjoon came in.

If you were to be completely honest, you could say without a shadow of a doubt that the two had a constant veil of bitterness floating between you. What could you do? Both of you were a bit more competitive than you should be, and the prospect of academic validation was far too tempting for you two to just let it slide. But, damn. If Dante Alighieri had the misfortune of meeting Kim Namjoon throughout his life, you were absolutely sure he would have added the man somewhere amongst his circles of inferno — because, Jesus Christ, was he a pain in the ass when he took things to his personal side.

“In synthesis, professor, I must conclude,” Namjoon started, leaning against the tall surface of his table. The copy of the discussed book was placed before him, and you could see that he had highlighted — and color-coded — at least half of it. “Bella Swan should have picked Jacob instead of Edward. The amount of danger she faced was ridiculous, and perfectly avoidable if she had chosen the one that was always there for her and, quite frankly, much more attractive.”

Subtle. Always so subtle.

With his feet over a nearby desk, your professor hummed, and used his cup of coffee to hide the smirk that creeped up on his lips. From your peripheral vision, you could see the other students exchanging animated glances, waiting for your turn to defend Team Edward. “Alright. Very good, Kim,” he praised, then turned to you. His mop-like moustache was stained by the brown coffee, and it looked more disgusting than it should. “What do you have for us, defense?”

You pushed your shoulders back and, without a missed beat, spoke your truth. “I disagree with Namjoon’s conclusion, professor. Edward Cullen cared about Bella Swan much more than Jacob ever did. He was only angry because he was thrown into the friendzone, and did not get his desires fulfilled by his best friend.” Your eyes darted towards Namjoon as you verbalized those words, wishing you were just as subtle as he had been — that is, not at all. “Edward protected Bella since the start, was patient, and didn’t force anything on her. With all due respect, professor.” You turned back to the class. “Jacob had no free-pass to Bella’s black lacy underwear just because he had been there for longer.”

“That’s irrelevant to this debate, come on!” Namjoon defended himself, blushing from the tip of his ears to — not that you had been looking before — the place where his tan skin disappeared under his shirt. The buttons opened, that would’ve gotten him a warning in high school—but in college it was the average cool dude uniform.  “Jacob was not as simple-minded as he’s thought to be. He may be a werewolf but he’s not stupid—”

“Well, I have to disagree. As you may have read — and I’m sure my opponent highlighted this part too—, in the fourth book of the saga Jacob imprinted Edward and Bella’s new-born baby, under the justification that, and I quote, everything he was—snip, snip, snip—floated up into space when he met the baby’s eyes, which are coincidentally very similar to Bella’s who happened to be at the moment, dead.”

“It is explained within the Twilight universe that werewolves often link themselves to their partners for life.” Namjoon barked back, although there was no confidence left within him when he opened the book, and started looking through his notes, wondering how he could’ve left the imprinting-the-baby topic out. What a mess.

Poor Namjoon had surely been very busy dreaming of your black underwear to finish preparing the debate and that, good for you, meant you had won — for once.

“My shaking jerked to a stop; heat flooded through me, stronger than before, but it was a new kind of heat — not a burning,” you read, trying to occult behind the pages the wicked smile invading your features. At the back of the classroom, your classmates started laughing enough for Mr. Moustache to turn around and shush them. Namjoon was paralysed. His projection into the Jacob’s character was not as funny anymore. “Around five minutes before he falls in love with the half-vampire parasite, he’s hugging Bella’s flailing body, forbidding her from dying. He’s not what I call… consistent with his feelings.”

Namjoon opened his mouth to talk, but all of the present souls knew that his chances of coming back from that annihilation were practically zero. With a smile and a resonating laugh, Professor Pornstache turned around to the class. “Alright, children of the corn, you all know how it goes,” he started. You had no idea how he hadn’t noticed the soaked mess that his upper lip had turned into, but that’s what botox injections can do to your overall sensibility, after all. “Write on a piece of paper who you think won, and then let’s do this as democratically as we can — even if we all know that the final word is mine.”

You rolled your eyes at your professor’s attempt at being Cool With the Kids. Mussolini over there — Mustachelini? Nah — constantly tried to sneak in references of popular movies into his every sentence, which explained his constant obsession with reviewing young adult novels. Next one up, according to him, would be something from Cassandra Clare, and you really didn’t think you’d be able to endure another painfully awkward love triangle discussion, even less the hidden incest.

With a few chuckles and guilty gazes crossing, the classroom was quick to pass the papers off to the front row, where the teacher’s personal pet — Jisoo? Achoo? Bless you — could organize and count the votes. You were lucky she was great at her job, for it took her less than five dragged-out, silence-filled minutes to have an answer.

With a grin that seemed to come out straight from a Monopoly live-action movie, your professor looked down at the winner’s name. “Oh, look at that,” he said. “Seems like we have a new name to pay attention to. Namjoon…” he dragged out his speech in a way that you swore the air had been sucked out of your lungs. Next to you, the boy leaned forwards, chest filled up with pride. “Better luck next time, kid. Y/N got the trophy. That’s ten points to gryffindor, and a nine for Team Edwards.”

With the weight of defeat dragging his shoulders down, Namjoon retreated to the back of the classroom, where the bad boys — you almost cringed thinking of him as one of those — sat and gnawed gum loudly trying to make the world believe their attitude would get there somewhere in life except, perhaps, jail. He plopped onto his chair, and let out a defeated sigh. If he couldn’t win a Twilight debate that meant his career was over, his reputation on the floor. It was a tragic defeat, one he had never expected.

Part of him, you thought, should be happy that it had been you the one to conquer the first place. It could have been someone else, like the guy from second row who carried an anime figurine around and ate his boogers when he thought no one was watching; or maybe, the resident weed-lover, who would probably rant for five minutes about the necessity to legalize marijuana, and avoid altogether the mundane problems of two-hundred year old bloodsucker hottie number 1; and very white, very anodyne Bella Swan.

“So, tell me, what kept you so busy that you couldn’t finish the assigned reading?” You questioned, rubbing — as they would say — salt over his overabundance of pride wounds. It was petty, but it was the funniest part of defeating the smarty-pants in the room. “Anything on your mind? Do you need a pep-talk? My therapist’s number, perhaps?”

Namjoon crossed his arms over his desk and laid his head over them, hoping the earth could just open up and swallow him alive. It crossed his mind that Jungkook probably didn’t even know which elements that are inside the Earth’s core — nickel and iron, for the ones wondering — even less which layer was liquid: internal or external. Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe you wanted someone that was more than brains, or maybe you could be searching for someone so dumb that would make you feel more confident at your own IQ — yeah, that was probably it. You wouldn’t pick anyone but Namjoon if that wasn’t the case.

But he needed to control the flux of his thoughts before it got the best of him, and he made the mistake of being a little bit more honest than he should. What could he do? His pride was completely shattered — over a Twilight debate, for fuck’s sake — and he was struggling to seat down after the catastrophe that had been that pizza. Never underestimate the enemy. Never underestimate cheese left out to rot for too long.

And, most importantly, never underestimate Jeon Jungkook.

“So, Y/N,” he started, raising his head from the desk. Two other students had already moved to the front of the class to start their debate on the powers of some of the secondary vampire characters, but he didn’t care about it — that one, he could win it in his sleep —, for his eyes were completely glued to your own. “You ran away from us that night at the party. Care to say what happened between you and your misunderstood knight?”

And god bless your winner high for not making your face crack under the sudden question. Even if the image of Jungkook rubbing his cherry splitter came back in a hormonal rush throughout your body and mind, the smirk in your lips lingered, and your inner despair did not drip through your words. “Nothing happened, we are perfectly fine,” you lied. “In fact, he invited me to go to Jimin’s pool party next weekend. Hope you don’t mind my company.”

It was ephemeral, but you saw the way Namjoon’s eyes widened for an instant — he was a mortal man, with simple mortal needs. Seeing glimpses of your black underwear? That was nice. Seeing you in full bikini? That was a miracle, and Kim Namjoon wasn’t someone to disregard a message from the Lord.

He cleared his throat, and looked towards the front of the class, where the debate was starting to heat up. One of the students claimed that vampires having weather-controlling abilities made no sense, for it was Twilight, and not X-men. He had to agree with that one. “That’s… something to consider,” he spoke. It was getting hot there? It was either you or the intestinal cramps from that forsaken pizza — how many days would it take for it to leave his system? God. “Never thought of you as someone who enjoyed… the outdoors.”

“I’m not the sun’s biggest fan, that’s true,” you acknowledged, “but that’s what relationships are about, you know? Making sacrifices, spending time with your boyfriend’s friends. All that.”

Namjoon, once again, lost his space to speak. As his eyebrows twitched together in a sign of his disbelief — and a bit of jealousy, let’s be honest — and his plump lips parted in a silent exclamation, the screen of your phone lit up, a loud ding! ruptured the attention of the class. From the front row, Pornstache asked for you to turn the device off.

“Won’t you look at that,” Namjoon complained, watching your fingers as you quickly placed your phone on silent mode. “Edward Cullen is here to save the day.”

There was a tinge of agony in his voice, that you interpreted as a silent hope that he could someday become the one to disrupt the class to send you, perhaps, a corny I miss you, let’s meet at the library after class, or a more saucy — and god knows you hate that expression — I’d love to be in bed right now, doing you-know-what. Namjoon didn’t strike you to be one to send a I’ll fuck you raw against the wall only because he would understand the physical limitations that would come with such statement.

“Edward Cullen is just trying to know if I’ll be going to your match next week, I think,” you lied. The phone vibrated against the table, insistent. It was like having Jungkook behind your back, saying whatever nonsense he had come up with that same morning. “Don’t you have something useful to do? I don’t know, start reading Cassandra Clare’s failed incest fanfic attempts or something?”

“Nah, you know what? I’m going to the bathroom. That pizza is still kicking my intestines, and not in a good way.” He smiled, and it was dashing. “See you later.”

“When you finish pooping.”

“Yeah.”

With raised eyebrows and the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips, you watched as Namjoon made his walk of shame towards the front of a class, then quickened up his pace suddenly. If you could go back to the night of the party and tell him about the consequences of his ridiculously high cheese consumption, you wouldn’t. It was too funny to just let it pass.

Your entertainment, however, was short-lived. As soon as you turned your gaze back to the device on your hands and actually read through the previews of Jungkook’s messages, you could tell that something was wrong.

Jungkook’s only neuron: [incoming video]

Jungkook’s only neuron: SHRIIRSHIT

Jungkook’s only neuron: NO DONT OPEN THAT PLEASE DONT

Jungkook’s only neuron: THAT ISN’T FOR YOU BABY NO

Jungkook’s only neuron: IM SO SORRY OMHFGF NPONONOONO

Jungkook’s only neuron: i want to die please dont download the video please i will do anything i will buy you milkshakes for the entire week plea...

But it was too late: you knew Jungkook was terrible at finding compelling arguments, but that was just too much. He knew you were curious, and his overwhelmed texts only increased your sadism to prolong his suffering. Of course you were going to see whatever the hell he had sent you, and of course you would make sure to tease him for it until the end of time. It was what he deserved after dragging you for yet another acting gig.

So, you unlocked your phone, and went straight to his conversation. Nothing could have prepared you for what you were met with — but one thing was for certain: you were so happy that you had brought your earphones that day.

Curiosity started to carve a hole within your chest. It started as a mere tingle, just below your breastbone, when you plugged in your earphones and starting downloading the video. Had Jungkook been a bit smarter that day — or just more technology-conscious — he would have remembered there was an option to delete his video. It would erase it from the face of earth, and with it the shame it would bring along. It was useless now, because by the time he understood the power he had allowed to slip away you would have already saved the thing in your phone. For blackmail purposes only, of course.

With absolutely no expectations, you pressed play. The condemnatory piece of evidence Jungkook had sent by mistake started playing on your screen, a vastness of black pixels and an eventual flash of light. It must be something huge, for him to panic — while sober — on the chat-room. And huge it was, although at first the image was without form and void. Darkness invaded the screen, like there was a towel or a shirt placed in front of the camera, and the only remnants of light that managed to filter in were through holes in the cotton.

Maybe Jungkook had finally lost his mind, and he had recorded one of those confession videos with huge cards. You are perfect to me, could have been read in one of those, scribbled with a Sharpie in his terrible handwriting. But Jungkook was not the romantic type so that would not be the case, he had a reputation to hold — surprisingly, he had not destroyed it yet.

And so the dumbass said “let there be light”, and there was light — and the most horrendous pink tiles covering the bathroom floor. He appeared into focus, clad in grey sweatpants and a tee shirt that you recognized immediately as part of the training gear for the volleyball team.

“Oh, god,” you muttered to yourself, watching him seat cross-legged before the camera. You had watched enough porn in your life to, at least, sense where this was going, but you were not prepared. Not at all.

When the boy — Jungkook, it was fucking Jungkook and you knew it — moved backwards on the shot, the entire scene came into focus, presenting you with the image of what you presumed was his bathroom. You would recognize that pink abomination anywhere, even if, the last time you witnessed it, you had not payed attention to the disgusting fact that the tiles were also a pallid tinge of roseate; the same color of the heat that painted the boy’s cheeks, all the way to the tip of his ears.

The image was slightly blurred still, but you could tell that he was sitting on the floor, back pressed against a bathtub. Jungkook had moved down on the shot enough so you could see up to his nose, but his eyes were still out of frame. It didn’t matter: you knew it was him, and you could not stop looking at the way his swollen lips were parted, glistening with the thin layer of his saliva. From in between them, came the weak, shy sound of a moan, and his body shivered in expectation.

Before you could even take hold of your actions, your gaze was already shooting downwards, past the droplets of sweat on his tan neck, and the obnoxious colors of his team shirt — for fuck’s sake, he was clearly not the brightest of minds, but, if he wanted it to be a bit harder to figure it out who it was, he shouldn’t have worn that. Dumbass. The hottest fucking dumbass you’ve ever laid eyes upon. Not the point.

Then, you saw it, and your mind went blank. Jungkook had one of his veiny hands placed over his hard member, its outline vaguely visible through the thick fabric of his pants. And, shit, that wasn’t the only thick thing in sight. But anyways. He was caressing it slowly, up and down, then rolling his palm against it slowly, dragging out the whines that broke upon his lips. Through your earphones, you could hear the fragile inflections of his voice against your ear, and you swore you could feel his raggedy breath hitting your skin at every new exhale.

On the upper part of your screen, another message popped up: I can tell you’re online!!!! it practically yelled, reeking of desperation and pheromones. You ignored it. There were more interesting things happening. Bigger things.

Jungkook pressed his palm down on his cock one, twice, but soon grew impatient at the lack of sensibility it provided. You tapped on the video and saw that it was three minutes long, which told you just how much he was eager to get straight to the point; and, much to your inner satisfaction, your hypothesis was quickly proved.

Almost timidly — who would’ve thought Jeon Jungkook could be any shade of timid, for fuck’s sake — the tip of his cock was released from the constriction of the elastic. He had been dripping enough to wet the fabric, and it elicited a thousand questions amongst which the idea of Jungkook cumming in his pants, unable to stop himself was primordial and very much overwhelming.

With more tenderness you had ever imagined he would be capable of, he pressed his thumb against his crown, smearing his slick all around. It ripped a long-drawled groan out of his throat, as he threw his head back and against the bathtub. Sweat started to pool in hollow of his clavicle when he dared move again, hand encircling his length.

That was the moment you understood the situation was serious in more than one way because a) Mr Pornstache was still doing whatever he believed was teaching, b) Namjoon had just crossed the classroom threshold and was about to return to his place by your side; and c) your panties were wetter that the goddamn Nile and it was Jungkook’s doing.

Way to start the week.

Then again, miracles can present themselves every once in a while and, for you, it was the fast-thinking that suddenly overtook your senses. Even if every fiber of your being begged for you to do otherwise, your fingers were quick to pause the video, block your phone, and shove your earplugs inside your jacket’s pocket before Namjoon’s gaze even casted itself in your general direction. Usain Bolt who?

You cleared your throat — was it hot in there?  “There you are,” you whispered as he sat down next to you. Namjoon looked one shade whiter and many years older. “Had fun?”

He rolled his eyes. “What kind of question is that?” You did not know. You weren’t thinking straight. You could barely recall your name amongst the echoes of Jungkook’s moans inside your mind, and it was driving you insane. “Anyways,” he started, “did I miss something important? Any big arguments to take into consideration?”

“The biggest argument I’ve ever see— I mean no, nothing,” you were quick to correct yourself. Your heart was beating so fast inside your chest that you recalled every medical drama you’ve ever watched, the movement of the defibrillators and the anxious screams of the doctors — charge it to 200; to 500… There’s nothing else we can do, we lost her. Jungkook strikes again. “You know what? This reminds me, I should go to the bathroom as well— To do… to… take care of lady stuff.”

Taken aback by surprise, Namjoon leaned back against his chair and raised his eyebrows in expectation, trying to predict where that was heading towards. He was clearly doubtful of your actions, and Mr Mustachelini was far too enrolled in the superpower debate to care about the way you roughly moved to your feet, almost knocking the desk over as you did so. Thank the heavens above that you didn’t wear a skirt that day, because the situation in between your legs was reaching critical levels.

“Lady… stuff?” he repeated slowly. There it was: the man you learned to fear in debates and in the court, with those piercing pupils and the expression that told you that there was no use in lying, for he already knew the secrets that you hid underneath your tongue. “Did something happen?”

You laughed nervously. “Absolutely nothing happened,” you lied. He could tell. Somehow, he just could. “I just have to leave, it’s gonna be really quick just… okay, bye.”

Namjoon moves around very slowly. The commotion of your sudden leave had probably pressed a slow-mo button he could not turn off. It was like all his energy was being redirected towards his brain, aimed at the gears you could almost hear rumble. It was just a bathroom escapade, it wasn’t that deep. But Namjizz was keen on discovering the secrets you were not skilful enough to conceal — at least not with the image of Jungkook’s swollen dick in his pretty hands still engraved in your brain.

“Bye,” you repeated, waving him farewell. Still perplexed he muttered something along the lines of: are you sure everything is alright? That you never responded to. All you could picture was the girls’ bathroom at the end of the corridor, the cubicle at the far left — the one less transited.

You had some dignity left inside, so you didn’t run. Instead, you walked as fast as your legs allowed. In hindsight, it was a ridiculous image, but you could only feel the weight of your phone growing heavier in your pocket, the wires tangling like serpents as some sort of cosmic punishment for your unspeakable crimes. As if it wasn’t enough that you had fallen for the local cliché; that you had been tempted by the one character in the comic you had promised you would only treat with disdain and, perhaps, some well-founded superiory.

Jungkook was an overused trope, that was clear enough —  thanks brain for the painful reminder! — but fuck, did he make you wet with only a few seconds of his blurry, leaked sextape.

Despite the late hour, the bathroom was deserted. You had been hoping to find someone there, someone disagreeable and nasty who would kill your libido with just a look. Coco would’ve fit the role. But there was no one around, and the cleaning lady had just polished the tiles till they shone like diamonds.

Weren’t you the luckiest girl in the entire university, huh?

Giving it no more thought, you locked yourself inside the cubicle. Your phone vibrated again, this time in your hand.

Jungkook’s only neuron: please Y/N  i didn’t mean to send that to you. it was a mistake. come back and call me a pig BUT DO SOMETHING. THIS IS LIKE POKING A STONE WITH A STICK

Jungkook’s only neuron: if you didn’t see it as I BEGGED YOU TO PLEASE FORGET I EVEN SAID THAT

He continued to rant into the group chat, monologuing about the many reasons behind your silence. It was — truth be told — abnormal of you to skip a chance to roast him, but there were more important matters to attend to. With a quick swish of your finger you silenced him, and with it the guilt that could come.

In movements far too quick to be your own, you plugged in the earphones in your ear, checked that they were well connected to your device — the last thing you needed was to interrupt the chastic beauty of that recently-cleaned bathroom with Jungkook’s devilish moans — and moved back to the video. The recording started over, but you were quick to move back to the time stamp you had stopped in — 1:38, precisely and, yes, you had memorized.

Now, that was when your morning started to go downhill, because it was when you decided to, as you had mentioned before, defenestrate the rest of your pride, and do the dirty work. Kind of: you were a bit out of your senses, but not enough to finger the baby maker in the middle of a public bathroom, no matter how clean it was.

So, you settled for the second best.

As the video resumed, you noticed the wetness that had spread between your thighs, only increasing as those lust-filled images flashed before your gaze. There was something alluring about the idea of the Great Jeon Jungkook playing with himself, allowing for his hips to roll against his hand as temptation overtook his senses; his legs so weak that he could barely move in that gruesomely pink bathroom floor. He was edging himself, that you could tell from the continuous biting of his lower lip, and the quivering pants that left his mouth, and he was adoring every second of his self-inflicted torture.

Moans and curses poured from his chest like ambrosia, and your other hand was quick to undo the buttons of your pants. You could see him, eyebrows furrowed and eyes closed, as his parted lips groaned for release, his muscles clenching again and again; cock throbbing in his hands. Perhaps, in an instant of patience, he would rub himself through his underwear until he was hard enough, or maybe he would grind against his bed until he could no long take the pleasure that monopolized his carnal desires.

Not that you were far away from that fate.

Hastily, you placed your hand in the space between your jeans and your underwear, finding your clit instantly. Your fingers traced circles over your sensitive spot, but the numbed feeling was awfully frustrating to endure. Just like the fucking video before your eyes was; the rise and fall of Jungkook’s abdomen as he reached for his own orgasm; the teasing of his thumb against the top of his member; the weak, whimper-like moans that infested your mind like a damn egyptian plague. Everything about that situation was frustrating, and it was tearing you from the inside out.

As he so tenderly caressed his length, you wondered at the rubor that had conquered his neck, the toned expanse of his chest. Jeon Jungkook had lost the intimidating arrogance that seemed to envelope his entire being. There was no arrogance in the curve of his mouth when opened his mouth in a whimper that broke before it could be captured by the microphone of his phone. There was no pride in the way he tilted his head back, fingers tight around his cock as he fucked himself relentlessly.

Despite the lack of friction, the sole image of his muscles tensing as he approached his release was enough to have you trembling. The memento of his hands roaming your waist was clear in your mind when you pressed your clit just a bit harder, wishing it was him the one to tease you with the same cruelly he was teasing himself. The wonders his fingers could do, his tongue. As his moans became louder, your movements turned erratic, almost desperate. It threatened to break you, but you could not find reason within yourself to stop.

Still, Jungkook wouldn’t be Jungkook if he didn't find a way to ruin your fucking day.

The vibration of your phone in your hands made your heart jump inside your chest and, for an instant, you swore you had seen the light at the end of the tunnel, and the angels calling you to join them above. But no — it was the human-shaped devil named Jungkook and he was, quite literally, calling you.

With a stressed-out groan, you barely thought about your actions before sliding to answer his call, his previous moans being immediately replaced by static. “What the fuck do you want, Jungkook?”

From the other sound of the line, you heard a shuffle. “Oh great, you picked up,” he spoke. You couldn’t tell if his voice was permeated by annoyance or by relief and, quite honestly, you didn’t give a flying fuck — you had your hands pressed against the soaked mess that had become your panties in a public bathroom, and the last thing you needed was to psychologically characterize his timbre based upon the inflections of his tone. “We have to talk.”

Honestly? Fuck it. The guy had already ruined one rub-out session for you, and he wouldn’t do the same thing again; not when the only detail you could think about had been the ridiculously hot video he had sent you. “No we don’t,” you threw back, breathing growing sharp as you continued your motions — slower this time. “This is not the time, and you have nothing—” You paused, biting back a moan, then masking it as a cough. Okay, you certainly didn’t think that through. “You have nothing to justify.”

“You know I do.” He hesitated. “It’s about the video.”

“Of course it’s about the fucking video,” you interrupted, throwing your head back against the wall. You were starting to get close, and you knew it. “Are you narcissistic enough to jerk off to a video of you... jerking off? This is the weirdest case of inception I’ve ever seen.”

Jungkook paused on the other end. “Inception? But that has nothing to do with my family.”

Good god, have mercy on your soul. “Inception, Jungkook.” You groaned. “Not incest.”

“Not the point, smart ass,” he was quick to reply and — fuck Jungkook and his honey voice — you could have sworn he had almost stuttered. There was no way you could have known for sure, for your own mind was wandering elsewhere and you were barely containing the tremors of your own voice. “I really need to see you and explain, so tell me where to go and I’ll be there.”

“Jungkook,” you called, and your brain thought it was a great moment to bring the images you had been trying to avoid, of Jungkook in-between your legs licking your wetness away as you whimpered his name. At the end of the line there was only static to match your error, so you rapidly added. “There’s no need to explain. I really have no interest in seeing you beat your meat to whatever Arctic Monkeys song you chose as your sex jam, so I don’t really care about your reasons—”

“It’s very normal to do something like this, okay? Some guys do it all the time. I do it all the time to, you know, see how I perform and everything.” You had long lost track of his explanation. The murmur of his voice was just an echo at the back of your head, for you had never stopped pressing your fingers against your clit, trying to subdue the sweet pain threatening to take over. Your brain was overworked — and overwhelmed — and Jungkook blabbing his way out of shame was not annoying enough to stop you. “It’s like monitoring yourself, and It makes me a better lover. A better partner, if you want. Y-you should be glad I’m doing this—”

As Jungkook ranted on, you couldn’t bring yourself to interrupt him, for you knew the moment you tried to speak only a moan would emerge from your throat.

Jungkook, however, took your silence as a punishment. “So you really watched it, huh?” He chuckled, humorless. “Guess I fucked up again—”

For fuck’s sake not now. The way he hesitated — just for a second — before he spoke and his voice refused to come out untainted but in a rough whisper, was the last thing you needed to complete your descent into Dante’s nine circles of hell.

Before you could notice, the faintest whimper dripped from your lips, a broken chord that sounded like his name.

Well, if you wanted to stop Jungkook from blabbering, that was the way to go.

Maybe if you had been a little more in your senses, the realization that you had just moaned out the fragmented syllables of his name would have seemed like an apocalyptic forewarning for the chaos that would ensue. But no: you were far too gone to care, and it had fulfilled your initial purpose of silencing the annoying insect buzzing in your earphones.

But of course, Jungkook wouldn’t let it go so easily.

On the other end of the line, he cleared his throat. “What… are you doing?” He paused, seeming to take in all the details he had ever so naively overlooked aforetime — the vague panting that departed from in-between your lips, the eagerness in which you rushed to finish your sentences. Something odd was taking place, and even his one living neuron could perceive it. “You sound like you just ran a marathon. ”

“It’s a debate class, genius, things got… heated,” and that had been the perfect word to use. “I’m not doing anything.”

There was a second of hesitation before he spoke up again. “Isn’t Namjoon in that class with you?”

“Yes. Congrats on the goldfish memory.” You breathed out — okay, you could maybe hold yourself back. You were getting close, for your legs were already shaking, and you could barely keep your eyes open for longer than a couple seconds and, if you had holden tight for that long, you could do it again. Just no more moaning. Not in front of him. Later, maybe.

“That’s weird,” Jungkook spoke. Fuck his voice, fuck the way his whimpers and cries for release still echoed inside your head; fuck the delicious sight of his head thrown back, and his adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Fuck him. Fuck you. Hopefully. “I just texted him and he said that you left to go to the bathroom. For lady pro—”

“—It’s a different Namjoon.” What kind of answer was that? You were barely thinking. “Listen, Jungkook, I’m not in the mood to talk, so maybe you could just… call later?”

“There’s only one Namjoon, and we both know his lame lactose-intolerant ass.” Jungkook could be sharp if he thought very hard. Maybe the ruptured thoughts crossing your mind, the weakness spreading all over your body, was what he had needed to fight on equal ground — and somehow you knew he would be very proud of this victory. “You received the video, and then went to the bathroom?” He was trying to organize the timeline of your befall, and for once his solitary neuron was cooperating, while yours were just running around, screaming like hippies high on acid. “Did you go to the bathroom… to watch it?”

“Jungkook, just drop it.” You whined, the sound needier than you had ever intended. “Let’s talk later, okay? I need to go back to class now. Call me later if you want and we’ll talk about the stupid party or your rampant narcissism, whatever you want.”

“I’ll wait for you after class—” He didn’t sound convinced. The raggedness of your voice was a good reason to be puzzled, but the guy was apparently too idle to hang up and do something useful. “We can go somewhere to discuss the party details if you’re up. You know, like a business meeting but in like a café or something.”

“I have a test tomorrow.” Holding to the last threads of rationality, you understood it was time to end the conversation. “Nice talking to you, Jungkook. Bye.”

Jungkook would have questions, of course, but you could only think of him, his hands, his soft lips against your own. Your hand returned to torture your clit, this time unrestricted by his presence on the phone. It was ridiculously easy to find the right pace, to bring back the memory of his weights pressing against your own, his tongue discovering your mouth. Jungkook could mess your existence even in your imagination and that was something you had to confess you had never expected.

Call ended, you allowed yourself to suspire in relief, dwelling in the absence of his frequent interrogations, and the pleasure that was overtaking your senses. The silence, however, was short-lived: you forgot you still had the video playing in the background.  

Now, some things in life are beautifully synchronized: the fly of birds as the sun sets; your favorite sad song playing while you’re driving in the rain… Jungkook’s dragged-out moans echoing inside your head the same instant you found your high. You know, the simple stuff. The kind of stuff that makes you lay awake at night in horror.

Your legs trembled when you reached your orgasm, waves of heat running up and down your thighs as you fought to suppress a prolonged whimper. On your hands, the device called for your attention, and your parted eyes barely got the glimpse of a smaller, digitally edited Jungkook covering his abs with the white strands of his own relief; hips rolling against his palm as his mouth, open, cried out in sheer alleviation. You loved that sight, and it pushed you even further down your decay into inferno.

But, of course, the video didn’t stop there. It didn’t fade into black, as you had expected, because you deserved a plot twist to end the day. You had depleted your luck reserves long ago — probably during a math exam — so it was highly unlikely that the guy would just finish the deed and turn off the camera.

No, instead Jungkook continued teasing his cock until his thighs trembled with the excess of his own caresses; limbs flinching under the tides of his exaggerated stimulation. He could not bite back he suspires of despair as he rode a second orgasm and muttered an unintelligible prayer.

Wait, scratch that. You rewinded the video, to listen for a second time. In this occasion you closed your eyes, because his fucked-out face was far too distracting for your brain to keep up with so many stimuli.

It was, actually, very intelligible.

Jeon Jungkook was not praying, but moaning your name.

That, nevertheless, was a secret that would die with you. Or so you hoped.

[madpanda75]

Sonny for “You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?” Pretty please!!

Thank you so much for your request! I’m so sorry it took me forever to get out. I hope you like this! I enjoyed writing it ❤️

I apologize to anyone who is blonde and named Karen. Also it is my personal opinion that our germaphobe string bean has named his truck and carries various medications with him.

“Always Been You”

Sonny paced in front you with a serious expression on his face, his crystal blue gaze never leaving yours. You wondered if this was what it felt like when a criminal was being interrogated. Only rather than confessing where you hid the body, the lanky handsome detective was asking you practice questions for your sergeant’s exam.

You closed your eyes in concentration, searching your brain for the correct answer. “Is it……D,” you hesitantly said. “Such a procedure might involve liability for the department in the event persons re-occupying the space are injured.”  

Your partner frowned and shook his head. You groaned in frustration, throwing your head back on the sofa. “I’m wrong, aren’t I? Why did I even tell Liv I was going to take the test. What the hell was I thinking? I can’t be a sergeant.”

A smile slowly spread across Sonny’s face. “Actually you’re right. I just like messin’ with ya’,” he teased with a wink.

“Sonny Carisi, I’m going to murder you!” You growled, hurling a pillow at his face.

He laughed and sat down next to you on the couch. “Ya’ know I think killin’ a fellow officer may not be the best idea a week before the exam. Just sayin’, it probably won’t bode well with NYPD.”

“Unless they don’t find the body,” you replied in a sing song voice. It was Friday night and you had been studying for hours with Sonny in his apartment. Taking the exam book from his hand, you stared down at the questions, all the words seemed to jumble together. At this point your brain was fried. You were even mumbling penal codes in your sleep. You tossed the book aside, leaning your head on your partner’s shoulder. “I don’t know about you, but I could use a break. Wanna get some ice cream and tequila?”

Sonny chuckled. “Ice cream, yes but let’s save the tequila for after you take the test.” He booped your nose with his index finger making you smile.

“Sounds like a plan. As long as I get sprinkles.” You stood up and stretched before moving to grab your coat.

“Sprinkles is a given,” he replied, following you to the door. “Just a long as you don’t get a peanut butter sundae. I don’t know how you can stomach those things. Grosses me out,” he cringed.

“You’re so weird,” you snorted a laugh and helped straighten his coat collar when Sonny’s cell began to buzz in his pocket. As he took out his phone, you could see the name “Karen” flash on the screen along with a picture of the blonde beauty who had the fakest smile known to man.

“Hold on a sec,” he mumbled to you before answering the phone. “Hey doll!” You internally rolled your eyes, listening to Sonny talk to his girlfriend. “Nah, I’m not busy. I was just helping Y/N study for her exam.”

You could overhear Karen’s voice dripping with disdain at the sound of your name. To say that there was animosity between you both was putting it mildly. You and Karen did not get along. You thought she was selfish and demanding. The world revolved around her. When Karen said jump, she expected Sonny to ask, how high. Based on the interactions you had witnessed, it was obvious she didn’t care about him. To her he was just a shiny new toy, one that she would kick to the curb as soon as she saw a sleeker model that she deemed worthy of her time. You knew if she dumped Sonny, you would be the one to pick up the pieces of your partner’s broken heart.

In addition to your contempt, there was also a green eyed monster lurking within. As much you hated to admit it, you were jealous of Karen. Sonny Carisi had been your partner since your first day at SVU. He took you under his wing, showing you the ropes and how the squad operated. It wasn’t too long ago when he was the new guy himself, he knew what it felt like to be in that position. As your partnership grew, so did your friendship. The two of you were inseparable, leaning on each other for support. When Sonny was nearly killed by Tom Cole, it was you that persuaded him to go to therapy. Likewise, when the grandmother who raised you suffered a massive stroke, Sonny was with you everyday in the hospital.

Over the years, your bond became stronger. You cherished your relationship with Sonny. You couldn’t imagine life without him. He had somehow stolen your heart. If only he would look at you the way he looked at Karen. Why couldn’t he see that the one person who loved him more than anything was standing right in front of him.

“Yeah, I’ll be right there. Give me 10 minutes.” Sonny hung up the phone, gifting you a sheepish look.

You crossed your arms, quirking an eyebrow at the detective. “Let me take a wild guess. Our study session is over.”

Sonny sighed. “I’m sorry. Karen needs me to pick her up. Her and her girlfriends got invited to an after hours club by this bartender.”

“Isn’t that what Ubers or taxis are for?” You asked, walking out of his apartment in a huff.

Sonny threw his hands up in the air, following you to the elevator. “C’mon, don’t be like that. Ya’ know how hard it is to get an Uber on a Friday night.”

“I know,” you mumbled, watching the numbers drop as the elevator continued its descent. You glanced sideways at him. “I just think you deserve better.”

He locked eyes with you and for a split second a look of sadness flashed across his face. It broke your heart. “You’re a good guy, Sonny.” You reached up and playfully ruffled his hair.

“Hey! Not the hair!” Sonny smiled and pulled you into a tight hug. “Thanks for looking out for me,” he softly said, kissing the crown of your head. All too soon, the elevator dinged announcing its arrival to the main floor.

After parting ways with Sonny, you stopped by the bodega on your street to pick up a pint of ice cream, figuring Ben and Jerry could help you study that night. You had made it all the way home when you realized you had forgotten your exam book back at Sonny’s place. Not wanting to wait until tomorrow to get your book back, you decided to head back out to his apartment, hoping he would be home by the time you got there.

Luckily just as you arrived, someone was entering his building allowing you to piggyback in. As you walked down the hall, you heard muffled sounds of shouting coming from Sonny’s door. You stood there frozen, knowing that you should leave rather than eavesdrop on your friend, but temptation got the better of you.

“I can’t believe you showed up with that truck, Sonny! What were you thinking?” Karen shouted. You clicked your tongue in disapproval. Karen hated Sonny’s truck, which you had affectionately nicknamed, Bubba.

“I thought I was going to go pick up my girlfriend. Instead I see ya’ practically giving the bartender a lap dance!” Sonny retorted, his Staten Island accent thicker with his rage.

“Give me a break!” Karen scoffed. “The bartender was just being friendly. I’ve known him since high school.”

“Friendly?! The guy was being smothered by your tits. That’s your idea of friendly?!” Sonny screamed. You could envision how he must have looked, a few strands of his perfectly gelled hair flopping onto his forehead, his sleeves rolled up, face red with a protruding vein throbbing in his neck.

“What about you and Y/N!?” Your ears perked up when you heard Karen mention your name.

Your jaw dropped. “Oh my God!” You silently mouthed, pressing your ear to the door.

“You leave her out of this,” Sonny growled. “She has nothing to do with this.”

“Oh yeah!? You don’t think I see how you look at her or how she looks at you? She’s all you ever talk about! It’s always, “Y/N this” and “Y/N that.” I can only imagine what you guys do during all those late night study sessions! You love her, not me! Just admit it!”

“That’s not fair! I’ve never-,” Sonny stammered.

“Save it, Sonny!” Karen interrupted. “You know what! I’m outta here! We’re done!” She abruptly opened the door to find you on the other side, practically stumbling into her arms. You were stunned by what you had just heard, your feet rooted to the spot on the floor. “He’s all yours!” She sneered, looking back at Sonny who was standing in the foyer. She pushed past you and walked away, leaving you and your partner to stand there in awkward silence.

Sonny placed his hands on his hips, his nostrils flaring, lips pursed, waiting for you to provide a reasonable explanation as to why you were there.

You shuffled your feet, looking anywhere but at the man in front of you. “Ummm….Half Baked?” You held up the now melted pint of ice cream, offering the dessert to your friend. In your opinion, ice cream seemed to resolve most matters in life, at least in yours it did, so it seemed like an appropriate albeit awkward gesture.

“What are ya’ doin’ here?” Sonny softly asked.

“I forgot my book,” you mumbled, playing with the hair tie around your wrist. He motioned for you to come inside, grabbing the exam book from the coffee table and handing it over to you.

“Thanks,” you held the book tight to your chest, completely clueless as to what to say to your best friend.

He crossed his arms, tilting his head as he looked you over. “So, how much of the fight did you hear?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Maybe the last minute or two. Just a snippet really. I barely heard anything.”

Sonny arched his brow, he could always tell when you were lying. “Ok, I heard everything,” you confessed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to overhear your fight, it just happened. Then I heard Karen say my name and I just didn’t know what to do so I stood there.” Standing in front of him, you could feel your cheeks getting redder by the minute. You threw your arms in the air, exasperated with the way the entire evening turned out. “I just wanted to study and eat some ice cream! I didn’t mean for all this drama to happen!”

Your partner squeezed his eyes shut, pinching the bridge of his nose, waiting a long moment before answering. “I think maybe you should leave, Y/N.”

You bit your lip, feeling a lump form in your throat as you nodded your head and slowly made your way to the door. You held it together until you got home, unable to fight your tears anymore. In the span of a few hours, you had managed to lose your best friend, unsure if you would ever get him back.

In the blink of an eye, Monday had arrived. You spent the weekend eating one too many pints of Ben and Jerry’s and shedding countless tears. Fin watched as you walked into the precinct, dressed in a drab sweater and jeans, nursing a large coffee, your hair unruly, eyes puffy and red.

“Rough weekend?”

“Something like that,” you mumbled, plopping down at your desk and starting up your laptop.

Fin got up, moving to sit at the edge of your desk. “Where’s your partner? Normally you two get here around the same time.”

As if on cue, Sonny walked in. The detective lacked the usual spring in his step. He looked just as rough as you with dark bags under his eyes and scruff on his chin. “Mornin’,” he grumbled.

“Damn, Sonny. You look worse than Y/N. What the hell did you all do this weekend.” Fin’s eyes bounced between you and your partner. “Anything you guys wanna tell me?”

You and Sonny glanced at each other before you focused on your laptop screen. “No,” you softly said.

The sergeant sighed and shook his head. “Whatever, it’s your business.” He patted you on the shoulder as he walked away. “I’ve got good news and bad news. Noah has the chicken pox so Liv is going to be out for a few days.”

“So what’s the good news?” Sonny asked.

He turned around, a smirk firmly planted on his face. “I’m in charge.”

Work served as a welcome distraction from your personal life. You spent most of the day in the basement records room, sifting through cold case files you believed were linked to a string of recent rapes and murders. Although the basement was damp and dingy, you would rather be there than feet away from Sonny.

“This place is a mess,” you mumbled, getting on your hands and knees to get the last box which had been carelessly shoved on the back corner of a bottom shelf. You lugged the heavy box back to the makeshift work space you created, sneezing and sniffling, the mildew-laden basement affecting your allergies. When it came to your job, you threw yourself into your work, dedicating countless hours to every case, determined to seek justice and allow the voices of the victims to be heard.

Sonny walked downstairs, to find you elbows deep in a file, muttering to yourself. The night of the fight, Karen had hit the nail right on the head. Sonny did love you. It was as if the blindfold was pulled from his eyes and there you were. You were the one. The person who had captured his heart. Over the weekend, all he could think about was you, wondering if he should confess his feelings. But then there were those nagging fears that kept him up at night. What if you didn’t feel the same way? What if you had moved on?

Sonny cleared his throat to catch your attention but you didn’t respond, completely focused on the police report you were reading.  “Hey,” he called out.

You glanced up from your work to see your partner standing in front of you. “Hey,” you replied before letting out a sneeze and rubbing your watery eyes.

He sat down next to you, pulling out of his pocket some allergy medication. “I figured you’d be down here sneezing and wheezing so I brought you these.”

You softly smiled and took the pills from him. “Thanks.”

Sonny watched as you drank some water to swallow down the medication, glancing around the room, trying to think of what to say. After years of being best friends and partners, the detective suddenly felt shy and nervous in your presence. “So….uh…how’s research coming?” He asked.

You shrugged your shoulders. “Good. I think I may have found the missing link that connects all of our victims.”

A smile tugged at his lips as he studied your appearance, your hair wild and coming loose out of its messy bun, a bit of dirt and dust smudged on your face. “Ya’ have somethin’ in your hair.”

“I do?” You felt around your head, trying to search for the object in question.

“Umm….do ya’ want me to get it out?”

You nodded your head as Sonny helped fish out the pen cap stuck in your hair. “Oh thanks. I was wondering where that had ran off to,” you replied, replacing the cap back on the pen you were using.

He reached into his pocket and handed you his handkerchief. “Ya’ also got some dust or something on your face.”

“Jeez, I’m a mess.” You grabbed a mirror out of your purse and graciously took the handkerchief, wiping your face clean. “Better?” You asked, looking up at Sonny.

“You’re perfect,” he softly said.

You blushed, turning back to your work when he reached for you, gingerly touching your arm.

“Look about Friday night, I-,” Sonny started before you interrupted him.

“Let’s just forget about it.” You waved him off, wanting to put the whole thing behind you.

He shook his head. “I can’t. Karen was right. She was right about everything. It’s you. It’s always been you.”

You stopped, your heart skipping a beat as you turned to face him. “What did you say?”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I was just too blind and stupid to see that. You’re the last person I think of before I fall asleep and the first person I want to see every mornin’. You’re everything to me.”

You let out a shaky breath, your eyes glossy with tears. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that?”

Sonny sighed and smiled brightly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Really?”

“Yes! Sonny, I’ve been in love with you for years. You’re all I ever wanted. I just wish I would’ve said something sooner, but I was too scared.” You sniffled, looking down at your hands.

“Ya’ don’t have to be scared with me, doll.” He reached out and cupped your face. “Please, tell me I still have a chance with you.”

“Yes,” you softly said.

Stroking your cheek with his thumb, he moved his hand behind your neck, bringing you closer to him. His eyes glanced down at your mouth before looking back up to meet your gaze, silently pleading for permission to kiss you.

“Yes,” you repeated in a barely audible whisper, leaning forward. Your faces were so close, you could feel his hot breath on your skin.

The minute your lips met, the floodgates opened, years of pent up sexual tension finally being released. You sighed into the kiss, feeling Sonny’s tongue dart into your mouth, mingling with your own. Your lips began to fervently move against his, desperate to taste him, encouraging him.

Sonny groaned and tugged you onto his lap as his hands roamed your body, grabbing fistfuls of your flesh. He was overwhelmed, not knowing what part of you he wanted to touch first, all he knew in that moment was that he wanted you, all of you. His lips laid kisses across your cheek, until they found purchase on your pulse point.

“Oh Sonny,” you whimpered, grinding down against his clothed crotch. You turned your head to capture his mouth once more. Threading your fingers in his hair, you deepened the kiss, pulling him even closer to you when a familiar voice pierced the air.

“Y/L/N?” Amanda called out causing you both to jump.

“Yeah?” You timidly responded, panting hard from your brief makeout session.

“Is Carisi down there?”

“I’m here! I was just…uh…helping Y/N,” Sonny chimed in breathlessly.

“Well when y’all finish Fin needs you up here. Looks like our perp is willing to talk.”

“Yeah, I’ll be right there,” he said with a smirk, staring at you like a hungry wolf does when they’re about to pounce on an innocent lamb. “Ya’ know, we have a problem.”

You nervously bit your lip. “What’s that?”

Sonny leaned forward, his lips ghosting over yours. “Well now that I’ve kissed you. I can’t seem to stop,” he purred.

“So don’t stop,” you whispered, closing the gap between you both and kissing him hard, playfully nipping at his bottom lip. After a couple more quick kisses, you grabbed your case files and followed him upstairs.

Amanda sat at her desk, doing a double take as you and Sonny entered the bullpen, “Something wrong, Rollins?” He asked, cocking his hip to the side.

She coughed, trying to cover up a laugh. “Nope! Everything’s fine. Fin was asking for you.”

Just then the sergeant walked out of one of the interrogation rooms, raising his eyebrows in surprise when he saw Sonny. “Ya’ know Carisi, that lipstick you’re sporting really doesn’t bring out the blue in your eyes. Why don’t you wash off your indiscretions and go interview our perp.”

You looked at your partner and gasped when you saw your berry lipstick smudged on his lips and chin. He turned beet red, trying to wipe the offending stains with his hand. “I’ll….uhhh..be right back,” he mumbled, making a beeline to the bathroom.

Biting your lip, you watched him walk away, paying close attention to his cute butt. “Damn, you could bounce a quarter off that ass.”  

Amanda nearly spit out her water, laughing so hard she snorted while Fin gave you a disapproving look. “Did I say that out loud?” You cringed.

Fin nodded his head. “Eyes forward, young lady,” he reprimanded. “Don’t you have reports to get done?”

You saluted him and sat at your desk. “Yes sir. All work and no play.”

A few minutes later Sonny came back, his face freshly scrubbed and clean. He walked past your desk, catching your eye and winking at you as he walked into the interrogation room. You smiled, giggling a bit, your cheeks turning bright pink.

Fin witnessed your interaction and laughed to himself, shaking his head, “Man, I hate being in charge,” he muttered to himself. “It’s like babysitting a bunch of horny teenagers.”

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