#because I will explode with another semester of this

[okayto]

I'm in a reference class right now and I just get so irrationally angry about the requirements.

Like, obviously, the purpose of the class is to make sure all the theoretically-future (or sometimes current) librarians know how to actually look things up AND verify sources AND in a wide variety of subjects and topics. Yes, good, valuable, important.

BUT I hate it so much. I hate questions that sound like they came from an alien whose best human impression comes from old chatbots: "Who is Zora Neale Hurston? What is she known for? Does Sparkle Library have any of her books?" why are you asking the first two questions if you clearly know them enough to ask the third "What's this geologic feature I saw in town? What's its history? Where is it?" can I point you to Google Maps please "What is the meaning of the word fandom?" why am I required to find you four verified resources on a dictionary definition "Can you help me find articles about this topic" yes but our professor hasn't actually given us examples of how they'd 'verify' articles so IDK if this will work even though it's literally exactly how I'd do this in my actual library job where I provide reference services to college students.

[lilacs-stars]

burning passion of twilight

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is ariel's daughter and a mermaid) SUMMARY: as an enemy of the infamous pirate captain starts making advances on you, you are caught between the waves of your lover and the beaming rays of light given to you by another. GENRE: yandere, quite a bit of angst, comforting fluff at the end, a touch of spice CW: a bit of cursing, mentions of violence (sword fight, small injuries, threats), mentions of blood (just a few cuts), lots of hurt moments (from arguing), reader gets harassed, jealousy, possessiveness, suggestive material at the end, also uses of the word 'lover' instead of boyfriend or girlfriend because it fit the setting more WC: 5.5k (did I go overboard? ...maybe)

A/N: me? obsessed with this man? yes, yes I am. the things I felt when writing this...ahhh we love ourselves a jealous man. shoutout to everyone who read and supported part 1, I really didn't think people would actually enjoy reading my writing loll. I know this one is kinda long, so please bear with me. also thanks once again to the anon who requested this, this was a super fun idea to do! all feedback and suggestions are highly appreciated, I'd love to know your thoughts!

“…and then, out of nowhere, BAM! The entire thing explodes!” cries a boy not much older than you, with ginger hair and dressed in a simple green button-up shirt. 

Your entire table erupts in laughter, with you sparing a small giggle. It is early morning, and you are sitting with your usual group in the dining hall. You’re only close friends with a few of them, and merely friendly acquaintances with the others. After all, you aren’t really the extroverted, talkative type. Not like the boy retelling the story of how he pranked the headmaster last quarter, somehow with the same enthusiasm as the first ten times he told it. 

Peter Pan is one of the members of your large group that you aren’t really close with. Although he is considered to be on the “good” side of the hero-villain spectrum, he sure has his mischievous side. 

He is also incredibly extroverted, chatting up anyone he lays his eyes on. Which is why you've always chalked up his attempts to start a conversation with you to his gregarious personality, and nothing more. 

Still, you try your best not to get too close to him. Although James has never directly said anything about him to you, you can sense that there’s some…tension between them. Although he tries to act discreet, you’ve still caught on to the way James glowers at Pan whenever you’re with your group—although he doesn’t take much action, as villains and heroes don’t really mix. How he slips his arm around your waist and pulls you in tight whenever he catches sight of Pan, and even the few times he’s used his hook to pull you into a kiss right in front of the person who appears to be his enemy. Not to mention how he always happens to find you with some urgent matter or other that desperately needs your attention whenever you and Pan are having—or trying to have—a conversation. Although, now that you think about it, James does do that quite often whenever you speak to any guy besides him. 

Pan catches your eye from across the table, and you can tell he’s waiting for some sort of reaction for his latest joke. You give a polite smile, not really knowing what they had been talking about anyways, and turn away to chat with one of your friends. Whatever’s going on between those two, you don’t care, and you sure don’t want to ruffle any feathers. 

Your morning class this semester is Potions and Elixirs 101, in which you happen, by some cruel stroke of fate, to be seated next to the one and only Peter Pan. What is especially annoying about this class—or rather, about your table partner—is that you always end up doing most of the work yourself, being the only one out of your duo that actually listens to instructions. 

The teacher explains how today, your class will be making Shanty Serum, an anti-seasickness remedy. After he goes over the requirements a dozen times, you finally set off on the mission of brewing the potion, which is always done in a pair with your table mate. 

Everything is going fine, of course; you crush the siren teeth into a fine powder, and Pan, following your careful instructions, manages to brew the kraken saliva until it comes to a soft boil. Just as you reach the final steps, you crinkle your nose as a strange smoky odor fills your senses. You look up from your textbook to see your potion, which you worked so hard on, bubbling and overflowing from the cauldron. 

“Ah, I’m so sorry professor! I could have sworn I only put in two unicorn hairs!” Pan cries, jumping back to avoid getting purple goo all over himself. You shoot him a glare, and he adds on, “And I’m sorry to you too, Y/N! I really am!”

You sigh and shake your head, flipping through your textbook to find the page where it explains how to counter excess unicorn hair. Through a bit of luck and a decent amount of skill, you manage to save your potion and not get a terrible grade on it, either. 

The last few minutes of class, Pan walks up to you. “Look, Y/N, I’m really sorry about earlier. I know you tried really hard to get the potion right, and I just messed it up. God, I’m such a clutz.” He scratches the back of his head as he looks down at his shoes sheepishly. “Hey, but if you’ll let me, I can make it up to you! Say, you got any plans Friday night?”

His eyes light up as he looks at you with a puppy-dog gaze, and your heart melts a little at his attempt for redemption. But then again, you did promise yourself to keep a good distance from him…

“I-I’m, uhm, well, I was planning to study that night,” you say, which isn’t really much of a lie. “I mean, with midterms coming up and whatnot,” you tack on with a bit of an awkward laugh. 

“Saturday night?” Pan pushes, eyes still alight with hope. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m, uh, I’m going out with friends that night. But maybe some other time?” you flash him an apologetic smile, guilt gnawing at your insides as a result of pushing him away. Honestly, you don’t know why James has it out for the poor guy. He seems like the friendly sort to you. 

You quickly duck away and move to the other side of the classroom, deciding to meet up with some friends to get away from the stifling silence between the two of you. Deep down, you knew you wouldn't be able to resist Pan’s offer if you had stayed behind to see the disappointed, rejected look on his face. Still, you couldn’t help but glance back at his direction, feeling endlessly shameful for your cold actions. 

You thought that would be the end of that, but little did you realize, in that moment, how wrong you were.

School finally lets out and the afternoon rolls around again, which means you stand patiently waiting in the courtyard again for James. You pace around the water fountain, fingers lightly tracing along the rim, humming a tune under your breath. 

This fountain has always reminded you of the sea, the rolling waves of the ocean, how the cold water brushes against your skin while it hugs you in a tight embrace. Just thinking about swimming makes your legs ache to morph back into a tail and take off into the blue depths. The worst part about going to the Academy, in your opinion, is that it’s so far from any bodies of water that the only times you get to finally enjoy yourself in your mermaid form is when you’re off for the holidays.

Just as you make your way halfway around the fountain, you see something move on the other side of the water out of the corner of your eye. “Y/N?” a voice calls out. 

You walk back around the fountain to be met with… “Pan?” you ask, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, I saw you come this way after school, and um, I’ve been feeling really bad the whole day for how I screwed up in P&E earlier,” he explains earnestly. “And so, I was thinking, I really want to make sure that I don’t mess up like that again. For both your sake, and my grades’.” He gives a little chuckle at his joke, before straightening his face out again.

“So, uhm, I was wondering, would you be willing to help me out? You don’t have to fully tutor me or anything, but maybe help me study and give me a few tips?”

There it is again. That spark of hope in his eyes. And honestly, how could you turn him down twice? After how sincerely he apologized earlier, and now with how he’s still thinking of you and trying to prevent himself from causing more trouble. You may have your priorities when it comes to relationships, but you still have morals, too. And there is absolutely no way you can reject him again, especially when he’s so desperate to improve. 

“Well…yeah, all right. I’ll help you out,” you say, trying to force a smile on your face. 

Pan beams, excitement lighting up his features. “Wow, really? Thanks so much, Y/N! You won’t regret it, I swea—”

Pan’s eyes quickly dart to a point above your head, perhaps catching a glimpse of something behind you. Whatever the cause, he stops dead in the middle of his sentence, face dropping. He goes pale for a second, before morphing his features into a hard and cold gaze. Shocked, you turn around to see what could have caused such a sudden change in his demeanor. 

And lo and behold, behind you stands a dark, glowering James, still half-concealed by the shadows behind him. He holds Pan’s cold gaze menacingly with a dark, furious, yet somehow misleadingly calm look of his own. Then, with no warning, he stomps towards you, ensnaring your arm within his hook as he drags you away. You barely catch his grumbled “Come on, we’re leaving” as you stumble backwards from his tug, practically running to keep up with his wide strides. 

He leads you down a number of empty corridors and doesn’t let you go until you finally reach a deserted staircase. The second he stops hauling you away from the courtyard, you yank your arm back to your side, panting from the difficulty of keeping up with him. 

James spins sharply on his heel, angry glare locked with your confused, half-mad, half-hurt gaze. 

“Care to tell me what the hell all that was about, love?” he snarls. Darkness swirls around in his vicious eyes, deep and unrelenting like the crashing waves of the ocean, and equally as violent.

“I was just about to ask you the same thing,” you spit back. 

“What the hell does Peter Pan want to do with you?”

“First of all, he’s my partner in Potions,” you reply heatedly, trying your best to hold back the angry tears you can feel already forming in your eyes. “And he was asking if I could help him study. As an apology for messing up earlier today. What’s so wrong with that?”

James laughs darkly, muttering, “Damn it, that bastard,” under his breath. He rocks his head back and forth, pairing it with a wicked, twisted smile that sends cold chills down your spine.

“I don’t understand what’s so wrong with that!” you cry out, feeling hot tears already start to trickle down your face. 

“Don’t you see?” spits James, taking a step towards you and waving his hook wildly in some form of gesture. “He’s trying to steal you from me!”

At this, you recoil, blinking slowly. You can feel the emotions simmering in you, deep down. The calm before the storm. 

“Steal me? From you? Steal me?” you ask, the emotions and fury building inside you like a rising wave. You take a step back from him, your voice rising. 

“Look, Pan and I may not be mates, but I know him well,” James snaps, clearly pissed. “And I can tell you right now that he doesn’t have any good intentions towards you.”

“Steal me? Like I’m some sort of treasure to be claimed? Like I’m an object?” you cry out, exasperated and relentless.

Something flashes across James’s eyes for a split second, some emotion or thought that is rather undecipherable. His features soften slightly, reminiscent of how he was when you sang for him under the moonlight not so long ago. As if his rational mind is finally catching up to his emotional words, his face falls, furrowed brows loosen a bit, and the cold anger in his eyes gives way to a more tender side of him. Maybe if you looked hard enough, you could also see a hint of regret laced in there. 

“No, I’m sorry Y/N. I didn’t mean it like that,” he calls out after you. But it’s too late; you’re already running down the empty hall, away from James. Away from all your problems. 

You’re half-asleep when you show up to Potions and Elixirs 101 the next morning. After your fight yesterday with James, you simply couldn’t catch a wink of sleep. It’s the first time you two fought like this, and you honestly don’t know what to do or how to feel. Sure, you’re still angry at him for the way he acted, but at the same time, you miss his comforting embrace, his soft laughs, the touch of his skin against yours. 

You sit down at your assigned table, trying your best to ignore the ginger next to you. Today, you’re taking notes on a lecture the teacher is giving, so you thankfully won’t have to do much talking to Pan. 

You make sure to listen as intently as possible to the professor, wanting to fill your mind with something other than thoughts of your argument earlier. You pay attention to taking notes so closely that you nearly forget all about your problems. That is, until you’re reminded again at the end of class, as you’re putting your things away alongside everyone else. 

“Hey, Y/N?” Pan asks from beside you. 

“Yeah?” you reply, feigning nonchalance. You make sure to keep your head down as you stuff your notebook into your bag. Oh, please let this be about the homework we were just assigned and nothing else. 

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened yesterday.”

Well, damn it. 

You think about giving a quick response to end the conversation, but in all honesty, you don’t really know if he expects you to accept his apology, or give one of your own. You aren't quite sure who is in the wrong here, but you are sure of one thing: saying the wrong thing will not do you any favors in solving your problems.

“What about yesterday?” You try to keep your tone light, as if it’s all water under the bridge, but you can’t help the apprehensiveness that leaks into your voice. 

“Well, I wanted to apologize if I was interrupting something between you two back there,” Pan starts.

You give him a small, apologetic smile, “No, don’t worry, you weren’t interrupting anything,”

“In that case…” Pan runs a hand through his hair as he lets out a quick exhale, before locking eyes with you and asking, “Why are you still with him?”

His blunt question startles you, sending your mind reeling for a response. “I-I don’t know…I just am,” you say, wishing this conversation would be over already. You had never been a big fan of difficult questions that made you doubt everything you knew, or thought you knew, about yourself. 

“He treats you terribly. I’ve seen the way he acts. He’s a terrible lover, Y/N.”

You turn to face Pan directly, a defensive glint in your eye at his accusatory tone. “No, he’s not!” You turn away again as you mumble a small, “And he’s not my lover.”

At this, Pan quirks an eyebrow and gives you a look with a very obvious meaning behind it. “Oh please, have you never seen how he is around you? Of course he’s your lover.” Without missing a beat, Pan tacks on, “And a shitty one at that.”

You huff angrily, but you can’t think of anything to shoot back at him besides blatant denials. Pan must have taken this as an offer to continue, because he steps forward and places a gentle hand on your upper arm. 

“I’m saying this because I care about you, Y/N. You deserve someone a lot better than the likes of James Hook. Someone who will treat you right, take you out on dates whenever you want, and proudly walk around in public with your hand in theirs. Not someone who only meets up with you after school so nobody sees and acts like you don’t exist half the time.”

Your anger only grows at his words, knowing that his accusations aren’t true and that James does care about you…right? Because underneath the part of you that is always ready to defend James entirely and completely, is a part of you that doubts it, doubts him. It’s always been there, lingering in the back of your mind ever since your unusual relationship started to blossom. And now, with a new layer of hurt and confusion having been peeled back during your fight last night, that part of you wondered, deep down, if Pan was right. 

“You need a better lover, Y/N,” Pan continues. “Someone who truly cares about you. Someone…someone like me.”

Your eyes blow wide at his revelation as your mouth parts slightly in shock. You take a step backwards, shrugging off Pan’s hand as you stumble away from him. 

“Wait, please, just hear me out,” he pleads. “Just give me one chance. One chance to prove myself to you. You gave Hook a chance when you started trusting him, didn’t you? And he’s a villain. So why can’t you give me a chance? You won’t regret it, I promise.” He moves closer to you and you keep inching away, until your back collides with a wall and you realize that you have nowhere to run. 

Pan continues forward, your fear skyrocketing at his increasing proximity. “Please?” he begs. “I could treat you right. So much better than Hook.”

He finally reaches you, standing far closer than you would have normally let him, or anyone else, for that matter, as he cups your cheek with his left hand. Truth be told, it feels nice to sense warm flesh on your skin instead of the cold, harsh metal of James’s hook. But you shake that thought away almost instantly, chastising yourself for, even for a moment, putting Pan above James. 

Pan places his free hand on the wall next to your head and leans in even closer. “Please?” he whispers, his warm breath fanning across your cheek. 

The feeling of his exhale, paired with his natural scent that you only smell now when he’s this close, takes you back to that day when you first met James. He had leaned in too, whispering in your ear. You had felt his breath on your skin, breathed in his scent.

You feel an odd sense of deja vu, but for some reason, this interaction causes your heart to race out of pure fear, rather than the exhilarating rush you felt when you were with James. The realization causes you to snap out of your trance and go into full-on panic mode. “N-no, I’m sorry, I…”

Pan growls, not backing away. “Come one! How come you gave a villain a chance and you won’t give me one? That’s not fair!”

Your breathing quickens in pace, the panic settling over you and dragging you deep under like a wave at sea. Your palms start sweating profusely, and you can hear your heart racing a thousand miles a minute. You’re pretty sure this is what people mean when they mention one’s fight or flight response. 

“No! Just, just leave me alone!” you cry, ducking under his arm and rushing away from him just as the bell rings. You run into the hallway, trying to put as much distance between you and him as possible. 

You finally make it to the dining hall, plopping down at a table far away from your usual spot. You don’t care if you have to eat alone; anything to get away from Pan. Your mind is already wandering to thoughts of how to convince your Potions and Elixirs teacher to let you switch seats when you notice a lot of commotion next to the entrance of the dining hall. 

People have started crowding around the doors and murmuring to each other. Curious, you get up from your seat, wandering over to see what’s causing the commotion. As you near, you hear distant shouting and the sound of metallic clinking. You move even closer still, and finally catch snippets of people’s conversations.

“...fighting…”

“over…girl…” “Wait, who’s winning?”

“...did you see that?” “Oh my god…he’s gonna kill him!”

You try to stand up straight to get a look at what's causing the commotion, but the large crowd that has amassed blocks everything from view. “What’s going on?” you ask, not really to anyone in particular.

“Didn’t you hear?” a short, round boy, with big glasses to match his wide eyes answers. You recognize him as Smee from some of your classes. “James Hook is fighting a duel against Peter Pan!”

James…fighting…what? You blink in absolute disbelief. There is no way this is happening right now.

You manage to push your way to the front of the crowd, albeit not without many disgruntled mumbles thrown your way, until you get a clear view of the corridor in front of the dining hall.

You stand there, petrified, as you watch. Hell, it is really happening. James and Pan each have their swords unsheathed and are violently swinging them at each other’s heads, parrying the other’s attacks with deafening clashes of steel.

“You bastard!” James yells, taking another swing at Pan.

Pan jumps back, floating a few feet in the air as he does so, with a laugh. “Oh please, all I wanted to do was treat her right. Unlike you.”

James grits his teeth, countering Pan’s blow with one of his own. “You tried to steal my girl!”

Pan rolls his eyes, continuing the back-and-forth between their swords. “Your girl? As she said herself, you’re not even her lover.” James ducks down to avoid Pan’s latest attack. “Ha, how amusing indeed.” A dark glint shines in his eye as he lets out a cold and malicious laugh, before charging forward once again. “Of course I’m her lover, you bilge-sucking scoundrel! She belongs to me!”

Your eyes grow impossibly wider at those words. It shouldn’t come as much of a shock to you as it does; after all, it’s not like you and James haven’t been acting like a couple for the past few months. But still, you had managed to convince yourself that it was nothing serious, since he had never once directly talked about what you were. And hearing him say it out loud…declaring to the whole school that you were his…it made your heart feel unspeakable things.

“Well, you sure as hell don’t act that way,” Pan bites back, nicking James’s cheek. James recoils for a second, raising his hook to his face and wiping at the gash. He looks down at it, and from your front-row seat you can see the blood smeared against the glistening metal. 

James looks back up at Pan, raises his cutlass, and resumes the fight with a new vigor. Every hit more violent than the last, every offensive move aiming at a critical point. “I’m gonna kill you!” James yells as he lands a blow on Pan’s right arm. 

This gash seems rather deep—far deeper than the one previously inflicted on James—the blood already leaking out and staining Pan’s sleeve. He winces and steps back, but continues the fight. 

You stand there, motionless, too afraid to do anything. Maybe a braver person than you would step in, tell them to stop fighting. But your feet remain planted to the floor, your jaw aching from being clenched so hard as you pray for no one to get seriously hurt.

Pan parries one of James’s attacks and does a quick spin, rapidly gaining momentum with his sword as he turns around and aims the blade…

…directly at James’s head.

A small whimper escapes your throat as the roar of metal hitting metal echoes through the hall. You gasp, heart in your hands, as your eyes take a moment to register the scene in front of you.

James has caught Pan’s blade in the curve of his hook, holding it just inches away from his head. Their arms tremble with strain, with Pan trying to break James’s defense and slash through his neck, and James fighting to prevent him from doing so. They lock eyes, an endless, unspoken conversation passing between them in that moment. Pan’s sword inches closer to James’s head, whose back is bent as he struggles to hang on. 

With a sudden swoosh, James yanks his hook in a downward motion, spinning Pan’s sword inside of its arch. A terrible screech sounds at the rubbing of metal against metal as the sword gets wriggled free from Pan's grasp. James jerks his hook backwards, and the sword launches out of his opponent's hands.

The entire audience lets out a collective gasp as Pan’s sword lands with a clang! against the rough marble floors, off to the side. Everyone is dead silent, holding their breaths with anticipation of what’s to come.

You watch as the realization of his defeat dawns upon Pan, the fear blossoming in his eyes as James extends his cutlass to Pan’s throat. He presses the sharp tip into his neck, lightly enough not to break skin, but still firmly so no one, not even Pan, doubts his opponent's defeat.

“Apologize,” James demands, voice booming across the corridor, tone rather befitting for the captain of a ship.

“I-I’m sorry!” Pan pleas, just now aware of what a dangerous predicament he had gotten himself into.

“Not to me, you moron. To her.” James jerks his head backwards to where you’re standing, in the front of the audience, eyes blown wide. 

Pan turns to face you, eyes locking with yours amidst the crowd. “I’m sorry! Truly, I am! Please, forgive me!” he cries.

James snarls, pulling his sword back, poised to strike a lethal blow. He thrusts his hand forward, straight towards Pan’s chest…

…but doesn’t ever reach it.

Everyone watches, confused—James more so than anyone else—as his hand remains suspended in midair. A soft blue force field shimmers around his arm, just as loud footsteps and an old, yet assertive, voice fills the hall.

“Fighting on school grounds is strictly against school policy, you know.” The headmaster, Merlin, walks in from the opposite side of the hall. His steps echo loudly against the high ceilings, filling the otherwise dead-silent area. “Boys, you come with me. The rest of you, get to your classes.”

The crowd slowly disperses as Merlin whisks James and Pan away. You still stand there, feet glued to the floor, watching their backs until they disappear from sight.

You didn’t see neither James nor Pan in your classes for the rest of the day, and you assumed you wouldn’t be seeing them for a while. The headmaster was generally a kind soul, but he was strict when it came to breaking rules. You didn’t know what punishment he had come up with for them, but whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

Which is why you’re rather surprised when you open your locker at the end of the day to find a note flutter out and land at your feet. Curious, you pick it up and read it. “Meet me at our spot after school. -J.”

A small grin makes its way across your face, although you try your best to help it. You don’t know why, but reading James’s little notes always brings you joy, even if you are in a tight spot with him. 

You make your way to the courtyard, where James is waiting for you by the water fountain once again.

“Y/N,” he says, voice back to being gentle and soft. You open your mouth to respond, but he puts his hook against your lips, quieting you. “I need to get this out first before you yell at me.”

“I wanted to see you to apologize for my actions. After hearing what Pan said…” His eyes wander down to the ground as a grimace spreads across his features. “I’ve come to the realization that he’s right, love.”

You raise your eyebrows at his statement, shocked at the confession. Cocking you head to the side, you wait for him to continue.

“I haven’t been treating you the way I should. And that is going to change, starting today. I also have to ask for your forgiveness for my actions earlier…it was wrong for me to get upset at you for speaking to Pan. But seeing you act so kindly to my enemy…it really struck something inside of me.”

“James,” you breathe, lifting his hook up to your cheek and placing your hand on top of it. “It’s fine, I forgive you.”

“Even for dueling Pan?”

You let out a small giggle. “Yes, that too. Although, I must admit, I did find you fighting for me to be kind of attractive.”

“Oh?” James asks with an intrigued smile dancing on his lips. He uses his free hand to wrap around your waist, pulling you into him. “Then I suppose I’ll have to start more fights then.”

You giggle again, happy to finally be in your lover’s arms. Truth be told, you had mentally forgiven him long ago. Ever since the night of your argument, you had just wished it would all end, that you two would go back to the way things were.

“Why...why did you start that fight with Pan?” you ask, the question having been on your mind for a while.

James slowly lets out a breath before responding. “Let’s just say, a little birdie told me of how he harassed you in class earlier today. The thought of him putting his hands on you…making you uncomfortable…it was just unbearable, love. I don't care what it cost me; he had to pay for what he did.”

You process this, giving a small nod. Although you don’t quite agree with his methods, you still find his protectiveness endearing.

“I have something to ask you, as well, darling,” James inquires. You meet his gaze, signaling for him to go on. “Did you really say that I wasn’t your lover?”

“I, well, uh…” your voice trails off. You were hoping that he hadn't quite caught that when Pan said it, but apparently he had. Glancing back up at James’s face, you wish you didn’t see the pain etched into his features, all but hidden by the mask he always puts up.

“Well…” you start. “You never said anything about us officially dating, and I didn’t want to presume…” You look down at your shoes, avoiding his burning stare.

James removes his hook from your cheek and slips it under your chin, gently tilting your head upwards towards him. “And here I thought that it was so obvious, I didn’t even need to mention it to you, my little mermaid.”

You give a small grin, finally at peace within your lover’s arms. “You can never be too sure,” you whisper, leaning in and intertwining your lips with his in a passionate kiss, the intensity building around the two of you.

James takes a few steps backwards as you lean into him, still locked in your embrace, his leg hitting the stone of the water fountain you two love to meet at. He maneuvers his way down and sits on the rim, pulling you on his lap. 

You wrap your arms around his torso, straddling his thighs. James puts his good hand on your waist, using his hook to pull you in by the collar of your shirt. You moan softly, the sound melodious as your rampant emotions spark the magical abilities inside you, one hand leaving his back and creeping inside his loose shirt.

You open your mouth as he slips his tongue inside, gently rocking on his legs. A groan escapes his lips as you rub your fingertips along the bare skin of his chest, moving lower to trace his rather well-defined abs. He moves his good hand down to your leg, gripping it tightly as he continues kissing you with a deep fervor. Everywhere he touches, he leaves a trail of fire on your skin. Your body ignites at even the slightest of brushes, a blaze consuming you inside and out.

Which is why when he raises his hook and brushes your cheek with the cold metal, the feeling is all-too welcomed. You nearly melt as your mind completely blanks, your senses overwhelmed. James doesn’t quite understand why his small gesture elicits such a reaction from you—you were now kissing him and moving with much more rigor than before—but he revels in the way you make him feel. You, on the other hand, get lost in the sharp contrast the coolness of his hook provides to your burning cheek, the inferno that swells around you ever-growing as you continue to have a passionate night with your lover.

The moon has its cycles, coming and going. When it disappears at the first rays of dawn, the tides yearn for its alluring and familiar presence yet again. And although it may seem like an eternity away, nightfall always comes, bringing with it the gentle serenity of being with the one you belong with.

You think back to the question you asked yourself not so long ago, If you could go back, would you change what happened, that fateful day you met James? In that moment, you decide, no, you wouldn’t. Because the life you have right now is the only one your heart will ever yearn for.

end x

<- back to part 1

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[venmondiese]

SOMETHIN' STUPID

-ˋˏ| summary: You have the biggest crush on Martin, and yet you have to watch how he falls for another girl. Even if it breaks your heart, you wish to be on his life rather than be nothing at all.

✧ | Pairing: Martin4Spider (It's Amazing to be Young) & Reader

✧ | word count: 5.1k

✧ | Warnings: Angst. Hurt/no comfort.

✧ | notes: baby's first angst omgg... anyways, i LOVE martin4spider but i also love angst and suffering and pain.

⋅˚₊‧ Based on Something Stupid by Frank Sinatra and I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams ‧₊˚ ⋅

You waited in the car, most of the time you did. 

The night was quiet and Martin was taking an awful long time to buy the medicine for his wounds. You never complained, though, you liked being around him. He was different from most men you knew, interested in sex and leaving their lives as if it was their last day on earth. 

Martin was a great guy, you two met thanks to college, and you liked to think that two outcasts could understand each other perfectly fine. He dropped college after the first semester, but it didn’t stop you from hanging out with him. You texted him, and he’d pick you up with his car, buy some snacks and go to a city viewpoint to hang there. 

Martin was, probably, your dearest friend. He was not judgemental, he could hear and he always gave you those fraternal hugs, his arm on your shoulders as he squeezed you close to him. 

Even if he was bruised, you took the time to clean his wounds, disinfect them and heal them. You never complained or judged him. You’d often keep your thoughts to yourself, about how he was hurting his body to feel something. 

“You got it?” You ask when he gets into the car, and he has a wide smile on his face. 

“I met someone” he says softly, as if amazed by it. 

“Oh?”

You look at him, your heart clenching on your chest as if it would explode. It was no secret to anyone how head over heels you were for Martin, even if he was clueless about it. You were too afraid to mess it up; he was your friend, and you could live with not being his girlfriend, but not being friends… frightened you. 

You tried pathetic attempts of flirting, sometimes getting drunk so he could pick you up and take care of you, even if it was a lie, you did it as if trying to heal something in you. You didn’t know if he was clueless, or if he knew and ignored the fact. 

“Yeah, I even got her number… She’s… beautiful” 

You look at him, as you try to look inside the drug store. “You always have girls fawning over you and your bad boy look” you tease him. 

“Heh, I know, but this is… different” he says smiling, and finally he turns to see you. His black eyes, well, still red from the recent punches, find yours with certainty as you realize something, this was different. He has that glint that he had never had with you, or any other girl he was fooling around. 

“Okay, Romeo” you say smiling, as he rolls his eyes amused, with a smirk. 

“Romeo?” He asks, chuckling as he starts the car engine. “You are so weird sometimes” he says amused, and you smile softly. 

As he starts to drive away, you can see the feminine figure from inside the drug store, seeing him from the glass. Your heart ached, watching her and then Martin. This certainly would last only some weeks, like all the flings he had before. No girl can resist a bad boy facade, not even you. But, only a few girls know how to appreciate a man like Martin. 

You had forgotten about it after some days. You certainly had more things to your plate, some college stuff, and things at home. Well, that was a lie. You had thought about it, but you tried to push it away from your head, because nothing ever comes up when Martin meets a girl. He’d fool around, and then be all on his own again. 

It was a normalcy bias, as you were sure this wouldn’t last. 

“Your room is cleaner, but still a mess” You say disapprovingly, as you pick his dirty laundry, and he groans.

“Come on…” he said, laying shirtless on his bed. “I cleaned it, though”

You raise your eyebrows with a smile, and you leave the dirty clothes in the basket. You sit on the edge of bed, looking at him.

“To what we owe this miracle?” you ask, looking at him, and he chuckles, a bit shyly as he looks away. 

“Spider was here yesterday” he says softly. 

You are in silence for a few moments, as if trying to understand what he meant. 

“Spider? I don’t think a spider cares…”

“Not the spider.” He cuts you, looking at you. “The girl I met. Her name is Jennifer, but she prefers to be called Spider”

You blink softly, your insides turning around in a horrible feeling as you take in the information. A girl, this Jennifer-Spider, in his room. He never told you about the girls he brings here either, and so your stomach feels as if it had been punched.

“She was here”

“Yes” he says simply.

“Wait, Spider? Why would she prefer...” you ask curiously.

“She just does.” he says simply, but you can sense the defensiveness in his tone, as if he didn’t like you questioning her motives.

You blink, your mouth turns slightly downwards as you feel it trembling slightly. 

“Okay” you say simply, as if trying to soothe the conversation. 

“She’s just… different. She’s special, she gets me” He says as he just watches the ceiling, he has a slight smile on his lips when talking about her, and you wondered if this is how you looked when talking about him. “She is weird. She is so fucking weird, like me…”

The chuckle on his tone, how dreamily he says it, it is almost enough to make you cry. But you don’t, you stay there, thinking what to say. What to do. What can you even do? You can’t try to sabotage them, it would be cruel… and you aren’t like that, you couldn’t live with that. 

“Come on, say something” he says after a while, and you haven’t noticed how quiet you have been.

“That sounds great” you say, forcing yourself to smile. “She sounds great” you correct yourself, and Martin nods, not fully taking in your expression. You still hoped that this would go away. That everything will be like it was before.

Jennifer, or Spider, as Martin calls her, was more present in your life than ever. She had some strange aura around her, always somewhat quiet but she was almost glued to Martin, and he to her. 

The more the weeks passed, the less you saw him. Sure, you were busy with college, trying to finish some essays that were due close, but you missed him. You always tried to catch him, sometimes he would pick you up after classes, or at your home. Everytime you hoped to see him again, to see his rusty car outside and him waiting for you with his half smirk and bruises on his face. 

But you haven’t seen him, not much. He took forever to answer your texts, and you couldn't help but feel that you were losing him. It felt horrible, because you felt so selfish, you wanted him back. You didn’t want him with this girl, but again, who were you to keep him down? To force him to stay by your side? It wasn’t you to do something like that. 

Usually, you’d meet on friday, since it was a day that both of you agreed that was easy to meet, and you’d do the usual, go to the viewpoint and chat there. You liked hanging around Martin, because you didn’t have to speak, or do anything. 

After he doesn’t text you back, and seeing the time, you tried calling. You hated calling, because it was awfully awkward, but this was a bit more desperate. 

“Hi?”

You freeze at the sound of a feminine tone.

“Hi…” You are a bit surprised, as you curse inside your brain. Fuck, fuck, fuck… “Is Martin there?”

You could feel your heart being squeezed on your inside, as you tried to breathe calmly. 

“Yes, he is here. Who’s this?”

“I am his friend…” you tell her your name, and she doesn’t seem to recall. “You must be…” Jennifer, spider? What should you call her? You try to decide, but you just leave it hanging there.

“I am Spider, his girlfriend” she says softly. 

“I see. Yeah, just… tell him to text me back later” you say trying to sound normal, as you just end up the call abruptly. You see the words call ended and then your screen turns black, and you can see your horrified face reflected on it. 

You were never nothing with Martin, damn, you never even kissed, or held hands. You were just friends, and it hurts more than anything to know he is in love, having a proper girlfriend. You were all for guys who were loyal to their girlfriends above all, but you never thought you’d be at the other end, the dumped friend. You always pictured yourself as the one he’ll be devoted to, not otherwise. 

You cry, as your eyes were so watery you couldn’t keep them open. It was silly, because you aren’t the first nor the last woman to suffer from a heartbreak, of secretly yearning for him, for his embraces, his kisses, and his affections. 

You’ve played all your cards with him, being everything he wants and needs, to no avail. What does she have? Why is she so special? He had met her for maybe more than one month, and you know him from much more.  

You cannot see them together, you cannot bear the thought of seeing them together. The first time he picked you up, it took you by surprise. He always joked that he was your uber, since you couldn’t drive, no matter how much he teaches you. He waits for you outside the car, arms crossed and his usual clothes.

“Oh, hi…” you say as you walk closer to the car, and see that inside the car there was a girl. He never brought girls around you, he talked about them casually, but this was.. different. 

And it hits you just now how serious he is about it. If you tried to think that this won’t last, this was like a cold water bucket being thrown at you with the reality of it all.

“You don’t mind, do you?” He asks, murmuring in your ear as he opens the door for you. 

You look at him, big eyes and confusing feelings. It feels like an ambush, in a way, as you were not ready to encounter her… and him together. 

“It would have been nice to be notified” you murmur to him, the slight annoyance on your tone.

“Sorry” he says, giving you a half crooked smile, yet sympathetic to it all. 

You sit in the backseat, and she turns to see you. 

“Hi” she says softly.

“Hi”

Fuck, she was gorgeous.  

You smile weakly as you put on your seatbelt, and you watch through the window. 

“We came back from the forest, that’s why we are so….”

“Rusty?” Spider says back to him, with a lovesick smile, that Martin returns.

“Yeah” Martin says as he leans to kiss her cheek, and you try to look away. 

“Cool” you try to sound cheerful. 

You really wanted to be supportive, you really did. You wished you could be happy for him, he seems… happier. She makes him happier.

Which definitely was killing you, because no amount of time with you made him as happier as she did. But it was better to be his friend, than nothing. It would kill you to be nothing, even if it meant seeing Martin happy with her. 

“So… you going with friends?” She asks curiously.

“Oh, yeah, my friends… they live closer to Martin, so…” you say shrugging, a bit awkwardly. 

“That’s neat” she says softly, nodding. “You are nice for driving your friends” she says softly, leaning to give Martin’s cheek a kiss, to which he certainly enjoys.

You can help but feel sick. You hated it, seeing him so in love with someone else. You had hoped that, with time, he would look at you like that. Hold you gently, and talk to you the way he does with Spider. 

“You have a boyfriend?” she asks, eyes wide as she turns to see you and chat.

“...no” you say almost bitterly. 

She nods softly, and Martin says.

“When you get one, we should do things, like the four of us. That’s still a thing?” 

“I think so,” Spider says naturally to him. “They can carve their names alongside ours” 

“Oh? How so?” You ask, frowning slightly as they speak so nonchalant about this. 

“We carved our names into a tree” Martin says almost too proudly. 

You feel your eyes too dry all of the sudden, and the back of your head, just behind your ears, hurts slightly. He sounds more than proud, he seems… in love. He was in love. 

“I am not… into anybody these days” You lie, your voice a bit shaky as you feel your blood running almost coldly into your limbs. You pinch the skin of the back of your hand, as if trying to soothe yourself, or to wake you up from this nightmare. 

Spider has those deep eyes that stare at you. She doesn’t say much, just watching you closely. Since she was in the copilot seat, she turned to see you. You squirm slightly uncomfortable, as if she could read your thoughts. Could she possibly know that you fancy her boyfriend? Could she know how much you envy her? How much you would give, how much you wish, how much you crave to be her?

You don’t know anything about her. Martin doesn’t particularly go off about her life the occasions he is with you. These days, they are almost glued together, doing everything together. You know it, and it didn’t bother you if Martin was just a friend. But he wasn’t just a friend to you, he wasn’t just a guy. 

You look at her and she at you, and you can’t deny how pretty she was. She had soft features, and you couldn’t help but remember Martin by the way her expression changes. It’s as if he’s all over her. 

You turn to look out the window, as if trying to ignore Spider’s eyes on you. What if she sees you cry? She doesn’t look scary, you’d probably have a fair fight if it came to it. But you aren’t that type of girl. And she was so pretty, you don’t want to ruin her beautiful face,

“I don’t have friends to introduce you to” she says softly, after a thought. Her tone is calm, and you turn to see her. Martin has his hand intertwined with hers, as if he couldn’t be without touching her. 

“It’s okay, you are so very kind”

“Do you?” She turns to Martin, quietly, and he shakes his head.

“Nope.”

“Well, if you-”

“It’s truly okay, I do not mind it.” you cut the quick chat. “Martin, leave me at the intersection” you say, grabbing your purse from the floor. The lipstick has fallen, and rolled under Martin’s driving seat. Spider leans closer to the back to search for it with her eyes as if to help you locate it.

“I can really drive you to there”

“It’s okay” you say exasperated, extending your hand to grab your lipstick, but between the metal you fear that your hand will be stuck. 

“Do you want help?” She asks, leaning curiously.

“No, it’s fine”

“Truly, I can drive you to your friend’s house, it’s on our way and I don’t mind”

You feel the lipstick with the tip of your fingers, you try to roll it closer to you, but it doesn’t work. It is stuck between some metals, and you lean closer to grab it, without really thinking how you will get your hand out. 

“Do you need light?” She asks turning on the backseat lights for you to see, but it only serves as a small blindment to you. 

“I can’t leave you here, it is too dark and…” Martin starts rambling off as he drives.

“You will hurt yourself if you do it blindly,” Spider says, trying to help.

“You asked me to do this…”

“For God’s sake, just drop me off here” You say a bit too loud, overwhelmed and just… exploded. You give up on the bloody lipstick, and anyways, it was almost empty. 

You take off your seatbelt, and you get off the car, seeing the couple inside as you close the door, and you just walk behind the car, not minding this isn’t a pedestrian crossing, and probably any car that crosses there, will mostly make you at danger of being rolled over.

You just walk crying, pathetically and recklessly walking in the dark streets, holding your purse with your hand, not minding how it drags on the pavement. You always asked for a ride because walking exposed you to avoidable danger, but in truth… You prefer it over seeing how Martin was head over heels for another woman. 

And the worst is that you can’t even hate her. She doesn’t know about your feelings about him, fuck, he doesn’t even know. And even so, he was not in any way with you, so he didn’t owe you anything. She didn't do anything wrong about it, she didn’t steal your man, she didn’t keep him from you, she wasn’t jealous or condescending to you, she was… she was good. She was nice, and obviously very weird, but it only seems to fit with Martin. 

You sit on a bench, in the middle of the street with a flickering light. Your makeup was probably ruined, by how you have rubbed your tears off your eyes, and the worst part? You also lost your lipstick.

And probably she’d keep your lipstick as well. You cried harder at that. How could she? She would keep everything you wanted, and you felt hopeless. 

You have that tendency. Your friend had said that you always subconsciously choose something unreachable, as if self sabotaging yourself. It was true, in a way, you had always been one for yearning in a distance, and never acted on your feelings. It won't either be the first time you have felt these emotions, but the other guys were crushes, too far away from your reach. But Martin? You were so close.

Was it so wrong to feel so much?

The next couple days you feel miserable, but again, not contacting him was better, at least for now. You truly wanted to get rid of your feelings, to just feel platonic love for him. To be happy for his relationship, to be glad he found someone who complements him so well. 

Maybe getting the ick would make it easier, but you knew Martin, and nothing that he did was horrible in your eyes. You cured his wounds, no matter how bloody or swollen they were. Never complained, and had a tender hand to cure it. It also helped with the proximity, and you enjoyed every second of it. 

You don’t reach to him, too afraid to have messed it up. He texts you once or twice, but again, he never was one to be really into his phone. You were rude, and you were ashamed of it, of making it about yourself and your feelings. It was a bit selfish, but they were your genuine feelings. 

Instead, he reaches to you after a while. His texts aren't usually long or descriptive,

i am in the usual spot.  can i see u?

Against your better judgement, and ignoring your mixed feelings, you take the bus, and walk to the parking lot where he usually did his car jujutsu stuff. The ‘usual spot’ always meant that, the place where he felt things in his flesh, as if he was self flagellating himself. 

You find him, by his car, sitting with a whiskey at hand. He looked even worse as if he would when fighting, and he was drunk. You could see it in his movements.

“Hi, you” you say, slightly glad he called you. “Another lost fight?” You ask amused, kneeling to help him to get up, and he grumbles.

“No…”

“Look, I wanted to apologise...” You start, as his hand was around his shoulders and your hand gripped his torso to help him up. He was bigger than you, and also heavier. You take the chance to apologise, to make things right, hoping he would forgive you. You are always sincere in your apologies, and even if your heart is happy to see him, you have to set things right “Because the last time, I was…”

“She left” He cuts you off. 

You freeze for a moment, surprised. It’s as if a weight was lifted from your shoulders, as if a cold breeze came. You look at him, not even realising how you didn’t finish your apology.

“What?”

He doesn’t answer, too drunk and trying not to fall as he grips your shoulder tightly. 

“When did she leave you?” You ask, surprised. You don’t want to say you feel glad, because you don’t. You didn't even know what you felt.

“She didn’t leave me. She left… the place. Her mum sent her off…”

You think for a few moments. You bite your lip, as you try to cheer him up. You still fancied him, and you knew you had to keep your distance, for everyone’s  well being, but he was hurting. He was your Martin still, somehow. 

“You want to go to our place?” You ask softly, looking at him. “I’ll drive”

He’d usually stop you, he’d raise the keys with his hand and make you jump to get them, and he never trusted you to drive so carefree when you had no idea of traffic signs. 

Instead, he handles you the keys as he opens the backseat and leans on it. 

You might even get your lipstick back. 

You drive carefully, even if at this time of the night almost everything is quite dead, even when the car ride up to the viewpoint is quite hard to you, you do it, and even manage to park in a great spot. After you use the hand brake, you turn off the engine. 

“Tell me you didn’t die back there”

“No” he murmurs bitterly.

“You threw up?”

“No”

“Good” you say, as you help him out of the car, pulling him to take some fresh air, and maybe the city lights could provide some comfort. You see the spot where your lipstick was left, and you decide to get it later. There was a lot of time now. 

You two settle in the car hood, laying on the glass as you sigh. 

“The night is nice” you say softly, looking at the sky, trying to break off the awkward silence. You turn your head to look at him, all puppy-like. It almost clenches your heart to see him like this. “Wanna talk about it?”

He lays on the window for some moments. 

“I loved her” it’s the first thing he says, totally heartbroken. 

“I…” you say, not sure what to say. I could see it. I know. She seems like she loves you too. I love you as well. 

“She didn’t want to leave” he keeps on going. “She… we didn’t fit, okay. But we do fit together” he murmurs, his words blurry as he is drunk and just rambling. 

“Then why did she?”

“Her mum” He says simply, looking at the sky. 

“She didn't… approve?”

“Ha, you bet” he says in a chuckle. “We were in her room, hanging out, we were… making out and her mum just got inside and kicked me out” he says leaning back, as he recalls the scene. “Tried to be polite and all, I wanted to be polite, y’know. Maybe lose the damn piercing when doing so and…”

He lays for some moments on the window, his jacket a bit too uncomfortable to do so. 

“She sent her off. Saying she was a disgrace.”

You nod softly, as you hear him. You thought you’d feel good about it, but.. you don’t. 

“Her mum hated me. She didn’t even.. know me, and I really… Me and Spider understood each other”

“To be fair, my mum doesn’t like you either” you try to cheer him up. 

“Well, I do not care what your fucking mum thinks of me. It’s not the same” he cuts you with his tone rough. “It’s not like that. She doesn’t send you away because of it.”

You bite your tongue as you watch your hands. You didn’t mean it like that, you guessed. You didn’t think too much about it,  never did around him. 

“Sorry." He says after a while. "She left. I couldn’t even say goodbye, I was too much of a coward not to go back”

You can hear the hurt in his tone, as he moves a hand to pass it on his face. He is bitter, he is confused. 

“I’m sorry too” you murmur, as your eyes are teary. “To be fair… she was nice. She seemed nice and she made you happy”

“How can I even… go on…” Martin says, rambling off.  He lights up a cigarette, as he sighs.

You two are quiet for a while as the night was awfully dead. How could you try to comfort him? You can still feel your heart long for him, even when it was already broken. Even when it was rejected, how pathetic can it get? Going back to him, hoping for him to notice you? 

The muscles of your cheek feel heavy as you hold tears, and your lips turn down on that horrible expression you hate. You rub your forehead, as if trying to relax.

“When was the last time we came here?” He asks softly, as his head turns to look at the starlights. He takes a drag and smokes blows out of his mouth.

You think for a few moments, and shake your head.

“I don’t really remember.”

He had discovered this place, and he picked you up to show it to you. Nothing fancy, but something unique. You usually bought the snacks, and he drove. 

Had he brought her too, you wondered? The tree where they carved their names was near? Had they made out in the car as well?

“I am not that drunk, you know” he says after he chuckles, as he takes the last smoke out of the cigarette, before pressing the cigarette down on his palm. “I am just…”

“... Heartbroken” you say for him. It isn’t as if you didn’t understand the feeling. How were you supposed to comfort him when you felt the same? You couldn’t even show it, or tell him about it. 

“I am taking care of her lizard.” he says after a while. You can smell the faint scent of his cheap cologne, the faint smell of liquor and the strong scent of cigarette, and you feel somewhat stupid “And I got an spider too, obviously…”

“I love you” 

Your words come spilling out of your mouth, you do not even think about saying them outloud. He never knew how much you liked him. He’d never choose you over her, and you aren’t even asking him to do so. You know he won’t. 

“I’m sorry” you add quickly, cursing yourself. It was the truth, was it wrong to say it? You can’t think of an answer, because it was done.

He doesn’t say anything, as he turns his head to see the sky as well. 

Perhaps you had been settling the nails for your own coffin, doing this. Being around him, as if nothing was happening. 

“This isn’t about you” Martin murmurs bitterly.

“I am sorry I am not her” 

“I do not want to hear about it.”

“I love you, I am sorry” You say, as you start crying, you couldn’t even fight for your feelings without crying. 

“I don’t… What do you want me to do?”

“I don’t know” you cry out, as you press the heel of your hand against your eyes, almost too hard as if to dry tears out. “I am sorry, I am sorry, don’t hate me”

“Why would you tell me this kind of shit?” He asks frustrated, as he sits up straight. You shake your head, as you try to keep your tears from coming out. 

“It’s stupid, I was stupid, I am sorry!”

“Were you always like this?”

“I said I am sorry” you begged him, shaking your head.

“You know I don’t love you back. I can’t love anyone but Spider”

“I know you love her, okay, I know!” You say exasperated, as you feel frustrated as well. You had no reason to, but it wasn’t as if you could rationalize your feelings in the moment. “And I know I am not her”

You always thought love didn’t make you stupid. It was kind of weird to think about it, how could people do stupid things? How could people forgive cheating, have a blind eye when it came to crimes or stay when it hurted their mental health?

“Martin, please… I didn’t mean to” you say as he gets off the car hood, and you slide to follow him. “I won’t say it again”

“I don’t want you around”

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t… I never meant ill on you, or her… she is so nice… and she makes you happy…”

“Don’t talk about her” he says opening the copilot door to hand you your jacket, and your purse.

“Hear me out” You cry out trying to take his wrist to hold him back, begging him to hear you. 

He shakes your grip, as he looks at you with… disappointment? You don’t want to decipher his expression. 

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to” you repeat again. “I can't lose you, Martin. I can't... Please”

“Don’t” he says as he walks over to the driver seat. “Just… don’t”

The least of your worries is how you are going back home, or how you will freeze to death. Damn, you barely remember your forgotten lipstick.

You know that it was a massive screw up. But it felt right to say it in the moment, and were words you truly meant, with all your heart. And he was rightfully mad, you also understood that.

But again, you aren’t truly thinking. It’s as if the muscle that beats in your chest has truly taken over you, making rash decisions in your careful life. You had never confessed to anyone, you never said your true feelings, and you never ever would risk a friendship as valuable as the one with Martin. 

But you love him. You love him so much, it hurts, it makes you sob uncontrollably in the middle of the viewpoint, as your jacket and purse fall from your grip and fall on the pavement. You wished you could be like her, and make him happy. You wish he’d let you into his world, into his heart. At the same time, you wish he could get back at her, and be happy once again. She wasn’t a bad girlfriend as much as you would like, she was actually great, and nice. 

Perhaps it was indeed selfish, you had spoiled all by saying those three words. But deep in your heart, you know it was true. 

[silentium-symphony]

So This is... Lust (Link x Reader) SMUT

(a/n) ya'll, i finally finished it ToT i'm so sorry for the wait, but it's finally here now! i had so much fun writing this!

i took a look at my schedule for next semester and i have *a lot* of free time, so hopefully that'll mean more time to write and, in extension, finally open up my inbox for requests!!! i've never done requests before at least on this account because i was always so busy. i'm not too sure how much time my new research position will take up (i was told it would be time-consuming, but i'm not sure how time-consuming), so i'll keep you guys updated!

as always, i hope you enjoy this ~steamy~ oneshot! and remember: if you are a minor, do not interact.

cw: afab!retainer!reader, reader wears a dress, link masturbating to the thought of you :), mentioned reader masturbation (like one line), cunnilingus, missionary, mentioned doggy, overstimulation, tried to make link a soft dom heheh, swearing, dirty talk, dumbification, fingering

wc: 6.5k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

"(F/N)?" Zelda slinked her back against her chair, sinking into the worn, plush cushion that coddled her stiff vertebrae.

"Yes, Your Highness?"

"Please prepare the horses... We're going to take a little walk." She pinched the bridge of her scrunched nose. "If I am to look at these documents a moment longer, I believe my head will explode."

"But Your Highness, Link should be coming any minute now. We must discuss the security details for the upcoming ball." Your usually terse expression softened at the royal's groan. "But we can go out afterwards.”

"Yes, you're right... Apologies (F/N), I completely forgot about that meeting. Will anyone else be coming?"

"No, Your Highness. It will just be—“

Knock knock knock!

"Ah! Perfect timing." Zelda tapped a thick, disheveled pile of documents against her desk into a more manageable bundle. "Come in!"

The brass doorknob shifted slightly and clicked open, revealing Hyrule's most renowned knight. A pair of cobalt eyes went from you to the Princess and he bowed wordlessly.

"Link. Thank you for—“

A loud bang, then wood stuttering against stone, quickly followed by the airy splish of dozens of documents fluttering to the ground. You dove across the desk, grasping a few documents you were lucky enough to catch and watched the rest pool by the table’s legs.

"Oh Hylia—!”

"Your Highness! Are you okay?!" Your hand flew to the staggering princess, documents be damned; Link sprung to Zelda’s side and placed a restful hand on her shoulder.

"I-I'm fine, really...” She muttered, rubbing her sore knee. “Goodness, I'm so sorry for the mess. Let me clea—“

"Absolutely not, Your Highness. I’ll take care of it." You cut, already circling the desk and shuffling the disarrayed documents on the floor. Link joined you on his hands and knees, carefully scooping up piles of paper onto the desk and into your arms. A jolt of electricity shot through your heart as you felt worn leather chafe against your skin. You turned away, 'looking' for other scattered documents, and coughed out,

"Thank you Link, but please don't worry. I can take care of this."

A determined look gripped his features as he stared and shook his head. Without uttering another word, Link once again began gathering the parchment. A soft sigh left you, and an even softer smile graced your lips.

"Can you hand me that document, please? I think these go together... Oh, and... these have matching headings, so I'll take that and you can have those..."

Even in her mildly frazzled state, Zelda wasn't blind to the faint red that whispered the surface of your cheeks when Link got a little too close, or the shifty flash of Link's blues whenever your fingers 'accidentally' grazed his. As much as she wanted to jump in and rectify the mess she made, maybe... She should sit this one out. Enjoy the show. Or better yet... Hm... When was the last time you and Link had a day off?

In no time at all, all correspondence was off the floor and either in your arms or on the desk. Your fingers flew this way and that, reorienting texts right side up and shuffling this paper behind that, and this one goes over here, and wait… Shouldn’t these be bundled together?

"Once again, I apologize for the mess I had created. Thank you both for cleaning it up."

"No worries at all, Your Highness." You finally looked up and cast a warm smile at the knight. "Thank you for helping me, Link."

A bashful grin cracked the stoic man's lips and he awkwardly rocked his feet. All that extra motion certainly drew attention away from the fists tightening behind his back. Zelda cleared her throat and eyed some documents pertinent to the upcoming social.

"Right. Now that that's all settled, let's get down to business."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

"A-Ah... Mmph..."

The knight threw his head back, feeling his temples drum in time with his cock. Sweat dewed his ivory skin and his Adam's apple bobbed a name he dared not utter, lest someone discover the target of his hidden fantasies. A scene from earlier that day has been playing in his head on repeat, fueling the sensual fantasies that has drawn him awake past the midnight hours; his fist thumped faster against his thighs and his back careened toward the ceiling.

You—gorgeous, gorgeous you—bent over a desk grasping desperately for a document fluttering to the ground.

With slight modifications, of course. The hem of your dress pooled about your hips—hips he oh so desperately wished to sink his teeth and fingers in—your hands tied prettily against your lower back as he thrusts into you again and again, his fingers tenderly coaxing your feathery soft hair... But the best part? You looking back at him, tears stinging the corners of your eyes, and his name spilling out of those plump lips he yearned to taste.

He could hardly remember what the Princess had told him. Something about the security details for the upcoming ball, but Hylia only knew if he retained anything past that. All he could think of was you, you, you—the Princess's loyal, respectful, diligent, beautiful retainer. How he craved your presence! If only you knew how much he liked you! Oh, the things he dreamt of doing to you.

"Ngh... (F-F/N)...!"

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The garbled talk of Hyrule's high society bounced off the castle walls and the guards' helms, which flickered bright flashes of torchlight. A pair of cobalt eyes flitted about every corner of the room, filing away mental notes of the ball's invitees and the stream of people that flowed in and out of the ballroom. Link scooted along the wall—weaving around young, giggly wallflowers and decrepit, lonely barons in search of another wife—always making sure you the Princess stood in his line of sight.

After sending you away to drop off another gift at the crowded gift table, Zelda turned around with the polite smile most nobility had during these sizeable socials. She caught eyes with her loyal guard and slowly made her way over, skillfully avoiding conversation with the withdrawn, mysterious grace of a royal. Eventually, she found herself at the side of one of her most trusted confidantes.

"Link, I believe the next song shall be a waltz. Do you still remember how to dance?"

Link nodded dutifully, sensing an incoming question. Is Her Highness hinting that she wants him to ask her to dance...?

"If so, why not dance with (F/N)?"

Link, who happened to be swallowing his spit as she said that, hacked it all back up and proceeded to draw the most distressing and deprecating attention an introvert could draw to themselves in a single night. He turned to her, lovestruck panic evident in his eyes, and shook his head like a wet, storm-logged puppy.

"Now now, don't be shy! I'm sure she'd be happy to share a dance with you."

"Your Highness! There you are." A bright voice from yonder drew closer to the duo, and Link could feel himself shrinking. "I've been looking all over for you. Why are you all the way over here? Have you grown tired?"

The torpid, repetitive chords that most patrons had droned out this part in the night livened into a steady waltz. Link could feel Zelda's smirk and knowing gaze burn into the side of his head.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, but I assure you I'm fine. I just wanted to have a little chat with Link. But (F/N), you should dance! Enjoy yourself! You've been working far too hard these days."

"Thank you for your concern, but I would feel better if I were attending you."

"(F/N), don't be like that." She squeezed a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I'm saying this more as a friend than your queen. Please go have some fun. Maybe you'll meet your Prince Charming, just as you've always hoped you would.“

"Zel—Princess!" Your heart dropped to your stomach and a pair of hands immediately flew to cage Zelda's arms. "T-That was so long ago—I mean, I was only a little girl and—!"

A genuine, lighthearted laugh alighted your friend and she gazed at you with a sisterly fondness.

"Just teasing. It's always so fun to do so."

"Your Highness..." Your head hung as low as your spirits as you felt Zelda's frame shake from a stifled laughter.

"Your Highness?" All eyes turned to the clear, bold voice a few bodies past you. "Can I have this dance?"

The young suitor flashed a kind, dimpled beam as he held out a gloved hand to Zelda. The royal returned her own practiced, elegant smile and took his hand.

"I would be honored." She turned to you. "My apologies. I'm afraid I must go. But do have fun tonight, okay? You deserve it."

And with a swish of her gown, she was escorted through a parted sea of people to the middle of the dance floor. She locked eyes with you for a second, and cast a knowing tilt towards him.

You two were locked in a domain of stiff silence, both looking helplessly towards your mutual friend who had seemingly forgotten all about you. Link's timbers began shivering like no other as he replayed a thousand ways this night could go.

Freeing himself of his chains of self-doubt, he pushed himself off the wall and slowly made the short way over. Your heart had practically stopped pulsing while Link's was pounding away all breath from his lungs. He felt a sickly pallor drain his cheeks; he silently thanked the gods for the bright lights that filled his cheeks with artificial ruddiness.

"(F/N)...?" You turned, your thundering heart almost drowning out the Hero's squeak. "Can I have this dance?"

Pure, unadulterated sincerity crinkled Link's eyes, which held a certain life-like sheen typically absent for the soldier; for the briefest of moments, you felt that you were allowed a glimpse into his heart. Fighting the urge to scream 'til your lungs gave out was the understatement of the century as you dipped your fingers into his palm.

"I would be honored."

The small, anxious smile widened into one of pure delight as he led you further into the ballroom. He pulled you into the fringes of the waltzing couples and placed a steady palm close to your shoulder blades, inadvertently pressing you closer to him. Clothed fingers weaved through your own and pulled your hand away from your trembling frame. You could only hope he couldn't feel the aggressive thumping in your chest.

"Are you okay?" His voice rumbled in your ear.

"Y-Yes!" You blurted suddenly, your nerves not quite heeding your volume. You were practically melting from the stinging, judgemental stares thrown your way and you swallowed thickly.

"Yes, I'm okay. Thank you for your concern."

"We don't have to do this for very long if you don't want to." He muttered, his hand slipping to your waist as he dipped you. Your delusions led you to believe that his eyes lingered on your neck a moment too long... But surely your eyes were just playing tricks on you.

"It's just... Well, I'm rather nervous, so..."

You slowly turned your gaze upwards, peering through quivering lashes and fully expecting the knight's visage to be contorted in mockery; you were pleasantly surprised that his eyes held nothing but warmth for you.

"I understand." He effortlessly guided your next movements into a spin. "How can I help you feel more at ease?"

"Mm..." You unknowingly gave his shoulder a light squeeze, causing Link's heart to flutter. "Would it be all right if we talked some more?"

"Of course. What would you like to talk about?"

"Well... I've actually always wondered this, but have you always wanted to become a knight?"

"Hm... That's a good question." He chuckled, his hot breath tickling your cheekbones. "I wasn't particularly against it. As you may know, I come from a long line of knights, so it was only expected that I became a knight too."

"How did it feel when you found out you bore the legendary Triorce?"

"... Surreal." He concluded, a glimpse of wistfulness in his eyes. "My life hasn't been the same since."

"Oh... I'm sorry if this brought up difficult memories."

"Not at all!" His tired eyes snapped to life. "Yes, training became much harder after that and the pressures of the throne are very much there… But it wasn't all that bad. After all, I got to meet you—“

At the utterance of the last syllable, Link's face twisted into horror; not even the bright, warm lights could disguise his drained cheeks. You felt your entire face engulf in flames and screamed your heart out smiled shyly.

"That's... really sweet of you, Link. Thank you."

He cleared his throat and desperately wished for a Link-size hole to swallow him up this very second. Every gear in his brain cogged away as he chose his next words carefully.

"You and the Princess seem close."

"Yes..." A bittersweet comfort gripped your heart as deeply cherished memories flashed through your mind. "We were girls together."

"How long have you been her retainer?"

"Since we were very young. Like you, I come from a long line of individuals who serve the royal family and, well... Zel and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember."

"'Zel?'"

"O-Oh!" Panicked side glances jittered here and there; you let out a deep breath, thankful that no one heard your insubordinate casualness. "Please forgive me. That was a nickname I used to call Her Highness."

"No worries. I just... thought it was very cute."

The both of you were completely oblivious to the crimson that coated the other's cheeks—how could you be when your own face ran hotter than the lava at Death Mountain? You were startled out of your mushy haze with a bright, chime-like laugh.

"Her Highness was right. You are fun to tease."

Before you could retort some type of response, the ensemble played its final note. While all the other couples were separating and bowing to their dance partners, Link was quite slow to release you, and you were even slower to leave his arms.

"Thank you for the dance, Link. You are a wonderful dance partner."

"Likewise," he straightened his back, "I hope we can do this again."

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

Gods, you wanted to go to bed.

Your nice, warm sheets were all you could think of as you clicked the door to the Princess's bed chambers shut. You threw your arms above your head and groaned out the tension that had carved its way into your joints.

Your feet automatically led you down the long winding corridor, past the soldier's quarters and towards your—

"Mm... F-Fuck..."

Wait a damn minute.

Your feet ceased their dragging as a voice that sounded eerily similar to a certain Hero echoed nearby. You gripped your chest, as if that would quiet the thundering pounding in your ears.

… Silence...

Were you losing your mind?

Chalking whatever... that was to your perverted imagination, you once again began your trek towards—

"Ah...!"

—Link's room wait since when did you start moving in this direction oh gods oh Hylia

"Mmph! Fuck- yes- hah..."

The noises were undoubtedly coming from his room, your ear pressed against the door confirmed that. Your hand flew to your mouth as your knees locked in place, your ears feasting listening to the sinful whimpers and pants of Hyrule's sword and shield. You were thrown into the deep end, drowning in a cacophony of your own thoughts.

What the fuck holy shit what the fuck holy shit what the fu Was he alone? Wait, but the bed squeaked just now, so does that mean he’s with someone? And if so, who? But if he's alone... Who could he be thinking of?

This was wrong. This was so, so wrong of you to be violating his privacy like this. You would be mortified to learn that someone was listening to you pleasuring yourself—everyone's entitled to have these moments to themselves. So why couldn't you just... walk away?

"Mm... Oh, (F/N)..."

... Huh?

“I need you I need you I need you…” He slurred with sloppy breaths. Shame swelled within you as a wet heat pooled between your legs and wickedly delightful thoughts ruminated in your mind. Your chest constricted, sensing the crossroads that would undoubtedly decide your future relations with your long-time crush; you toyed with either option as carefully as your lust-hazed brain would allow. With your heart mere moments away from seizing, you carefully lifted your hand, suddenly aware of every muscle needed to execute the simple motion.

Four docile raps lisped the wood. You froze, the veil of sensuality finally lifted from your senses as the gravity of the situation bucketed you like cold water. Oh gods, what have you done? Your heart raged against your ribcage and beckoned you to flee! Run! There’s still time, go!

A quiet click.

A pair of blown-out pupils amidst a thin strip of blue peered out at you.

“L-… Link?”

“… Yes?”

You listlessly felt yourself move forward; sex-clung darkness draped over your bodies as you pushed yourself through the door, slamming your lips against his in heated desperation. Link returned your fervor with a fluidity that made you wonder if he’s fantasized about this as much as you have. You cocked your heel against the door, shutting out all unwanted light to carry out your feral desires in the dark.

He pressed you against the thin slab of wood, rough hands claiming residence in the plush of your hips while his lips conveyed a primal urge to claim. You didn’t hesitate in welcoming his tongue, feeling the hot muscle drag against your bottom lip and wrapping itself with your own in a sloppy but passionate dance. Thick golden locks tangled your fingers and you pulled him closer, closer, closer until his muscly frame was melded into yours.

He departed from your lips and quickly found refuge in the crook of your neck. His hot breaths dragged across your flushed skin, sending an anticipatory chill down your spine as he speckled your softness with nips and butterfly kisses. Large hands explored what they could, never settling in one place for long while his lips began imprinting deeply-colored marks by the junction of your neck and shoulder. His grabs and kneads were desperate, as if he fully believed that at any moment you would depart from him forever, leaving him with a ghost of what could have been.

Your chest heaved into his. Colors you’ve never seen before danced before your eyelids in a pandemoniac parade while hellish flames seared through your core. Link lapped and kissed and teethed your neck, relishing in the bit-back mewls that occasionally leaked out of you. The moonbeams that had passed through the clouds applauded the red desire he worked into your skin and Link felt a surge of boldness rush through him. After speckling your rising and dipping chest with his spit, he dropped lower and lower.

The cold absence of his hands didn’t go unnoticed by you, and before you could process what was going on, the unfamiliar cold that whipped your exposed legs pinched a yelp out of you. In one smooth motion, the Hero of Hyrule was under your dress and kissing the pillowy softness of your thighs—as he always dreamt of doing—silently worshipping Hylia’s masterpiece.

And oh, how he worshipped you. How each fiery, wet kiss was a prayer of gratitude to the goddess for creating someone like you. How every bite, every mark he left you with was all in the name of you, his true deity, and your moans that served as his gospel. By the end of the night, he was determined to have you chanting his name like some mantra that would bind you two past a one night stand.

Your heart roared in your ears, anticipation for where his lips would fondle next nearly causing the overworked muscle to implode; your legs nearly gave out when you felt his teeth graze the edge of your drenched panties. The lace dragged and coiled into a thin strip as Link buried his face into your sex, relishing the ambrosia he was to partake in. Before that though, his lips traced a languid line to your hips, which was promptly suckled and bitten with the gentleness of a doe. His fingers hooked themselves under your panties and, with painfully slow movements, dragged the nuisance down your hips, your thighs, and finally, the ground. With all obstacles out of the way, Link turned his attention back to your throbbing lips, licking his own with the hunger of a starved animal.

He wasted no time in burrowing himself into you, tonguing and lapping the juices that have dared to slip out and refusing to waste a single drop. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as he completely lost himself in you, rubbing tight circles into your clit with his thumb while drinking up whatever you could give him with his mouth. You bunched the noisome fabric about your waist, desperate to sink your fingers into his hair. He chuckled at your slightly buckling knees, and a wonderful idea flashed through his head.

He threw one of your legs atop his shoulder, and his heart nearly gave out from the sheer joy of seeing you spread like this. The new position allowed him deeper access into you, and a lone finger soon replaced his tongue’s sinful ministrations as the latter wrapped and toyed with your puffed-up bud. A full moan lapsed out of you in earnest and you unknowingly tightened around his digit. Link’s cock tented painfully against his pants, but he was set on having you cumming all over his face before he even thought about touching himself.

One of your hands anchored itself in his hair, knotting his disheveled locks into messy bunches that only grew wilder the faster he went. Uneven, haggard breaths and pleas for more echoed off his walls and Link had never been more pleased to carry out a request. His fingers and tongue would take turns wrecking you, never giving your poor clit and drenched entrance a break as he tongue-fucked and fingered you closer and closer to blissful oblivion. Link knew the milky white end was in sight, and he eagerly pressed his tongue flat against your cunt.

“Cum for me… Fuck, give it to me. I need you to cum in my mouth…”

His filthy request buzzed mind-shattering tingles to the deepest parts of your core, finally tipping you over the edge. You fell from a high you’ve never experienced before and your orgasm was borderline violent. A silent scream left your gaped mouth and you collapsed, panting, quivering. Link’s heart and ego swelled at your blissed out face as he leisurely wiped the juices dribbling down his chin. He scooted closer to you and pressed a deep kiss against your lips, leaving traces of you in your mouth. He pulled away with a pop, a smile, and an effortless huff as he carried you to his bed.

You were still fighting to regain some semblance of normal breathing when he set you down on his sheets. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and pulled away, taking a moment to relish in how you looked in your sensual vulnerability. His pulse quickened and his pants tightened further, eager for release, but Link was patient. He waited for your breathing to slow, caressing your cheeks and cooing praises into your ears. His tenderness was enough to almost lull you to sleep.

“(F/N)…” Adoration dripped from his tone. “Can we go further?”

You opened your eyes slightly and practically melted from the gentleness in his voice and the care in his eyes. With a soft, albeit tired smile, you nodded and traced small circles into his cheek. Puppy-like enthusiasm exuded off him and he kissed the tip of your nose, plucking a small giggle out of you.

“Just relax… I’ll take care of you.”

He worked the hem of your dress into a bulky bunch by your hips before throwing the whole thing over your head and gently discarding it on the floor. A soft, wonder-filled smile cracked his lips as he drank in all of you.

“You look beautiful… You are beautiful…” He murmured to the air, voicing his most private thoughts aloud. A slightly pruned finger traced down your sides. A shiver ran through your body and his name whimpered out of your mouth.

“Say it again.” He breathed shakily. “My name. Say it again.”

“Link…” You flushed under his piercing gaze. His expression flickered darkly for just a moment before his eyes crinkled warmly.

“You have the prettiest voice, you know that?” He nuzzled into your neck. “I can listen to you for hours.”

“Link…” You cradled his face in your palms. “You don’t… have to hold back. I’ll let you know if anything hurts.”

His eyes widened before a small chuckle left him.

“We’ll get there eventually, I promise. For now though…” His lips coupled with yours in tender obsession. “I want to make you feel good tonight.”

While his lips reunited with your own, his fingertip traced lazy patterns from your chest, down to your stomach with swirly circles, and finally in between your legs. He moved his hands with battle-hardened precision, skirting around your still-pulsing clit, being extra careful not to overstimulate you yet. The simple trail coaxed the neediest whine out of you and you jutted your hips up and down, side to side. You could feel him smile into the kiss.

“Eager, are we?” He purred, skimming the surface of his lips on your cheek before redirecting his efforts towards your nipples.

"Gods, look at you... You're so beautiful all spread out like this, just for me." His tongue swirled and sucked the perked bud while your other nipple rolled in between his thumb and index. He dragged the tip of his tongue from one nipple to the other, repeating the process again and again until he was satisfied with the glistening rawness. A long moan, honeyed with need and fringed with desire, escaped you as your back arched in toe-curling pleasure.

His fingers hastened their movements, circling the hardened pearl with calloused finger pads and teasing your slit, sometimes dipping the beginnings of a finger past its entrance. But it was never enough. Never, ever enough. Your pleas and cries and begging only sent Link further down this power trip, molding your sex-steeped senses however he wanted until you were a sobbing, hiccuping mess.

“Please Link…” You sputtered in between sobs, the knot in your gut constricting and loosening in sync with his tease. “I need you inside, please, please, please…”

“Shh…” He murmured, silencing your chants with a soft kiss. “Patience.”

“Link, please, I-I can’t—“

“Yes you can. Just a little more… Show me more of those lewd expressions.” A rough pinch on your clit scored a scream out of you and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. “Good girl… So pretty for me. You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

“Yes! Gods, yes! I’m all yours Link, so please—“

Your voice sputtered to a stop, caught in edged ecstasy as the friction you had been craving for for the past Hylia-knows-how-long was suddenly served at blinding speeds.

“This is what you wanted, right?” He cooed, his chill tone contrasting the growing flush in his cheeks. You squirmed and writhed uselessly under him as your mind blanked and reeled from the sudden onslaught of pleasure.

“T-Too fa— Link, you’re—! I’m—!”

You were practically catapulted into your next orgasm, but despite your shaking release, Link never let up—in fact, he picked up his pace until veins marbled the surface of his arms. Another orgasm was ripped out of you, then another, and another, all while Link whispered,

"Oh, sweet girl, I know you can do it. I know you can cum one more time... Just one more, c'mon..."

Nothing else mattered to you at that moment. Nothing in the world could pull you out of the ecstasy Link had so readily given you. The only sensations you were capable of feeling were the coiling and spasming release of your gut as the man before you worked you into a mindless little thing. Link’s heart swelled at the fucked-out, dazed look on your face and he finally released his cock from its clothed prison.

"Do I have permission to fuck you senseless?" He husked into your ear, tending to his weeping cock with the residual slick left on his fingers. You nodded your head vigorously, dumbed down to your most base desires.

He slotted himself in between your legs, rubbing and dipping his tip a little bit past your entrance before his patience snapped in time with his hips. A gaspy whine rasped out of both of you, thickening to sweet, candied moans for more.

You were so tight… So warm... So wet… He closed his eyes and steadied his breathing—a concentrated attempt to not just immediately cum on the spot. Link stretching you out choked a groan out of you and your arms clung tightly about his neck, clawing desperate lines into his back.

"Gods, you feel so good... So tight for me... You're just made for me, aren't you? Made to take my cock..."

His fingers doled soft dips into your hips, coaxing the tight muscles into releasing their tension. All you could do was nod fervently, your voice too hoarse and mind too fogged to formulate any words. Link pervaded every single one of your thoughts, and all you could really muster was a gaze into his darkened blues, glazed over with lust. It took every ounce of mental fortitude to keep Link from pounding you into his bed; he softly kissed away the tears that threatened to spill.

"I'm gonna start moving now... Are you ready?"

A nod; Link positioned himself until your noses were almost touching, braced his hands on either side of your head, and slowly rocked his hips. The simple, fluid motion ellicited a moan out of the man and a whine out of you, electric pleasure shocking you to your core. His watchful gaze gauged your reactions, your comfort always at the forefront of his mind.

He flooded you with kisses and deluged your senses in heartfelt tenderness. Your head rolled into his arm, nuzzling him, and he smiled softly.

"You're so cute... My heart just explodes whenever I see you..."

"Liiink..." You reached up to caress his cheek. He pressed further into your hand before turning his head and kissing your fingers.

"You're perfect. Everything about you is gorgeous." He breathed, his hips slipping into a racy tempo. Your breasts pooled and trembled with each thrust, which didn't go unnoticed by the starved knight. Sounds of wet suckling filled his room, accompanied by your airy mewls and calls for his name.

"Say my name..." He growled into your chest, eyes flitting to look at you through quivering lashes. "Say it again."

"Link..." You squeaked, hiding the lower half of your burning face behind trembling hands.

"Louder." A hand clutched your wrists and dragged them down, fully exposing your slutty expressions to his hawkish eyes.

"Link...!"

"Louder." He scurried to the crook of your neck and bit down. "I want everyone in this castle to know who's fucking you breathless."

"L-Link!"

His pace quickened, the steady rhythm degenerating into wild pistoning. Shaky, uneven breaths stretched into high-pitched whimpers while his hand fondled your abused clit, repeating the circling motion that had you seeing stars several minutes (hours?) ago. His lips traced the shell of your ear, your jaw, down your neck, and finally your lips. Again and again, his mouth met yours in messy passion, each kiss more crazed than the last. He pulled away just enough to see your sloppy expressions, a thin strand of spit connecting your moistened tongues.

"Can you cum for me one more time? Just one more, I promise."

"I can't, I can't—Link, I'll die—“

"No you won't, love." He crooned. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, just in time to see stars exploding into a symphony of colors. "Just one more. I know you can do it."

Your face scrunched in response to the nearing summit, the precipice that you had been thrown over more times than you could count. You could feel your core spasming and knotting and folding in on itself; Link was totally immersed, body and soul, in your essence as he neared his own powerful climax.

"You're all mine." He panted, his hips accentuating each word with increasing ferocity. "Mine, mine, mine."

A tremor unlike anything you've ever felt before rattled your bones. A voice unrecognizable to you called for Link as you released all over his twitching cock and sheets. Your violent clenching rocketed Link to cloud nine, who pulled out just in time to cover you with thick, white ribbons. His warmth splattered onto your thighs, your stomach, your chest—all of which still tingled from his earlier acts.

His quaking frame crumbled, landing squarely on top of you. Your breaths hitched and mixed with each other, and a satiated silence enveloped the room. Once Link had mostly recovered, he heaved himself off of you and draped a lazy arm over your spent form.

"Are you okay?" He rasped, smoothing the sweaty nest that your hair had become. "Let me clean you up."

You tried to lift an arm—a finger even—to assure Link that you were okay but gods if you had to exert any more effort you were certain you would disintegrate. Link swung his legs over the bed, tripped into his boxers, and hobbled over to a pitcher sitting on his desk. The clear sounds of liquid life flowing into a bowl were like music to your ringing, pulsing ears.

In just a few moments he was by your side, bowl, towels, and cups in hand. You tried to sit up, but the bed stuck to your back like a bond that could not be broken. The rough cloth gingerly wiped away Link's earlier messes, and he dipped the other towel in the bowl before patting your face with the same degree of care. The cool water against your flushed skin sent pleasant jolts through your body.

"How are you feeling?" He asked again, pressing his palm into your cheek and pulling you up to drink. "Are you hurt anywhere? Was I too rough?"

You took the most refreshing swig of water in your life, feeling your parched throat soften enough for use.

"I'm okay, Link." You croaked at last. How long had it been since you last spoke coherent sentences? "Thank you for taking care of me."

"Of course." His warm smile alighted butterflies in your stomach; however, his features faltered slightly and his eyes turned downcast. "I, um..."

Quiet hesitance warbled his voice into a gut-wrenching tune; you gently cupped his hands, running your thumbs over each scar as you steadily held his gaze.

"I don't want this to be a one-time thing, I want..." He sucked in a quivering breath. "To be with you."

A kiss, soft and sweet, silenced all the doubt pounding away in his chest. Your lips moved purposefully, taking time to convey all the pent-up feelings that had been swirling inside you for so long. You dangled your arms behind his neck as you pulled away, your eyes fluttering open to meet his blown-out pupils.

"I want to be with you too."

Relief unfurrowed his brows and relaxed his jaw.

"Really...?"

"Yes! Though to be honest, I've always pictured our first few moments together as a couple in a more... innocent setting." You gestured to... everything and Link's belly flexed in laughter.

"So did I. But gods..." His lips ghosted the curve of your shoulder, traveling up your neck, and ending at your ear. "You felt so good, (F/N)..."

"L-Link..." You whimpered, your body lowering back down while your now-lover towered above you. Without warning, an arm snaked under your knees and the other wrapped behind your back. With a yelp, you spilled into his arms and two towels fell into your lap.

"The baths are just around the corner." A soft warmth bloomed on the center of your forehead. "Let's get cleaned up, shall we?"

♤♢ ~ bonus scene ~ ♡♧

"Your Highness, are you sure about—?"

"Yes, yes! I've already got it all figured out. All you have to do is pack your things and go!" Zelda shoved two official-looking documents into your arms and scooted you and Link closer to the door. Your dug heels were no match for the princess's sudden prowess.

And what could those documents possibly be?

Why, records of a cabin rental in Faron Woods, of course!

"B-But what about Link? He's your personal knight, after all."

"I've already arranged security details with one of the squadrons. They will be watching over me until you both get back. In regards to who will be overseeing your duties, I have a few staff members who will help me keep track of everything."

"Your Highness—"

"It's decided!" Zelda exclaimed with more effort, her energy sapped from lugging two unwilling bodies. "You both have been working so hard, so I've been thinking about giving you a weekend off for awhile. Now that you're a couple, this is a perfect chance to have your own little romantic getaway!"

"Wait, Princess Zelda..." Link started slowly, the gears in his head churning away. "It says here there’s only one bed. If you didn't know we were a couple until now... Why did you prepare a cabin with a single bed for the two of us?"

"That...!" Though your back was toward the royal, you could clearly see the 'oh shit' expression on her face. The corner of Link's mouth twitched into an amused smile while your cheeks scarleted.

"Zel, I swear to Hylia, I'm—"

"—gonna have a wonderful time in the woods where you can be as loud as you want. Farewell, and safe travels!"

With one last push, Zelda managed to shove the two of you out of her office before a resounding slam sounded the finality of her decision. But Zelda's closing remarks hung in the air, thickening the atmosphere in blood-chilling realization.

"What's wrong?" Link's sing-song voice mismatched the gravity of of the situation.

"Oh gods... Oh gods oh gods oh gods... How many people do you think heard us last night?"

"Enough for the whole castle to know who fucked you breathless." His face lowered until you were eye-level with his mischievous simper.

"Link!"

"Her Highness was right—you are fun to tease."

"LINK!!!"

[theywantedplayer]

Things that have happened to me or my friends in Uni but with the NHL guys

MasterList

PromptList

Quinn, Tevor, Jamie

I'll prob write another one like this

Quinn - Midnight Study Sessions

“Ughhhh, I’m never gonna get these,” you groaned, your face buried in your hands.

You and Quinn had been studying for an hour in the campus library for your midterm tomorrow morning. You were struggling in your psych class, and luckily, your boyfriend Quinn had taken the same class just last semester with the same prof.

“Yes, you will. You just need to think a little harder,” he encouraged, shuffling the Q-cards.

“If I think any harder, I think my brain will explode, Quinn,” you deadpanned, glaring at him as you put your hands down.

“Come on, Y/N, you need to learn this,” he said, ignoring your dramatics. “Let’s go again.”

Before he could even say the first question, you groaned again, flopping onto the table like you had just been given a life sentence to study forever, Quinn just looked at you and rolled his eyes.

“I told you my way of studying would be way more effective,” you huffed.

“Your way of studying would have led to sex,” he scoffed, shaking his head with a small smile.

“Which would have helped me,” you shot back, as if this was the most obvious thing in the world.

Your way of studying was that for every question you got right, Quinn had to take off a piece of clothing and the same for you if you got one right. You had seen it in a movie once and had always wanted to try it, but Quinn being Quinn, he always put studying above everything else. Normally, you loved that about him. Right now? You hated it.

“Okay, first question. What are central traits?” he asked, looking up from the Q-card, his eyes meeting yours.

“You can’t expect me to answer a question while looking at me like that!” you whined, tilting your head back dramatically.

“Y/N, answer the question,” he said, smiling, trying to hold in a laugh.

“Fine. Central traits are key characteristics that influence overall impression,” you mimicked in a mocking tone.

Quinn shook his head as he put the Q-card in the correct pile. “See? You do know this. You just gotta think.”

"Uh-huh. You know what I’m thinking, right?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Quinn just looked up at you across the table with the blankest stare, like he was so done with your shit. “What?”

“Since I got that question right, your hoodie should be off,” you said, crossing your arms and looking away like you weren’t completely scheming.

“Well, you’ll hate to hear that I have a T-shirt on under this, then,” he smirked, tugging at the hem of his hoodie.

“Jackass.”

Trevor- some girl won't let you into HIS house party

“Yeah, okay, like you’re actually dating Trevor Zegras.”

The blonde standing in the doorway rolled her eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t get stuck in the back of her head.... you wish they did.

(YES, some chick actually did this to me because our uni’s men's volleyball team had a winning party, and my boyfriend’s on the team, and she wouldn't let me in!)

You clenched your jaw, barely resisting the urge to launch this girl off the porch. “Just go get him.” you tried to tell her, knowing if she did there wouldn't be a problem, but it was clear this girl was having a lot of fun watching you scrambled.

“Why don’t you call him then, honey?” she cooed, her fake sympathy so thick you could choke on it.

You were already trying, but Trevor being the drunk menace you knew and somehow loved wasn’t answering. He never answered the door at his parties because Jamie or one of his teammates always let you in. But for some godforsaken reason, this chick was guarding the door like a damn nightclub bouncer on a power trip.

You fired off a couple of texts, explaining the situation to your boyfriend.

“Maybe go find a different party,” she sneered. “Nice try, though.”

Your fingers twitched. You were this close to yanking out those ratty, probably from Amazon extensions when—

“BABYYYYY!!”

Trevor’s loud, boyish yell echoed from inside, and before the door could fully shut in your face, it was swung open so hard it nearly hit the wall.

And there he was.

Trevor loomed in the doorway, goofiest smile slapped across his face, cheeks flushed, eyes slightly glassy. Oh, he’s wasted.

Before you could even say anything, the blonde fake gasped and latched onto his arm.

“This chick has been pretending to be your girlfriend to get into the party!” she said, laughing, pressing herself into him like that wouldn’t backfire spectacularly.

Trevor physically jerked away from her, his whole face twisting into the most dramatic yuck expression you’d ever seen. He even stuck out his tongue for extra effect.

“That is my girlfriend,” he deadpanned, pointing directly at you. He turned to you and beamed. “That’s my fucking girlfriend!!!”

Then he threw his head back and threw his arms out, hoping you could read his mind and come over to him.

You bit back a laugh as he stumbled toward you, immediately throwing his arm around you and pulling you inside. “Your drinks are in my room,” he mumbled.

As the two of you stepped into the entrance, it squeezed Miss Gatekeeper against the doorframe, and Trevor turned, waved, and said with a sickeningly sweet smile:

“Bye bye"

"but-" "Nope bye bye"

He kept eye contact with her as he slowly shut the door in her face.

Jamie- Actually running into each other in the hallway (this is how I met my bf)

You had your head down as you walked through the hallway, your eyes locked on the stack of Q-cards in your hands as you mumbled the words you were reading. You turned the corner, expecting to walk straight into your classroom, except you walked into something else instead.

Your shoulder collided with someone, and before you could react, your thick stack of Q-cards went flying, scattering all over the floor at your feet.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry,” a voice said, and the person you had just run into knelt down with you to pick up the fallen cards.

You looked up, reaching for a few, and suddenly, your brain short-circuited. Because right in front of you was the guy you had been non-stop talking about to your friends for weeks.

“No, no, it’s okay,” you said quickly, giving him a sheepish smile. “I should’ve been watching where I was going.”

You both stood up, and he handed you the cards he had picked up. That’s when it hit you, this was the perfect chance to finally talk to him.

“Hey, you’re in my psych class, right?” you asked, playing it cool, as if you didn’t already know the answer.

“Yeah, yeah, I am,” he said, nodding. “I’m Jamie, by the way.” He smiled, introducing himself but of course, you already knew that. You'd never admit it, but you and your friends did lots of internet stalking after you saw him that first day in class.

“I’m Y/N,” you replied, smiling back. “So, how’d you think you did on the midterm?”

You still couldn’t believe you were standing here, actually talking to the guy you’d been obsessing over since the first day of the semester, you wished one of your friends were in the same hallways so they could see it.

Jamie tilted his head a little, thinking, before shrugging. “I think I did okay. Definitely could’ve done better, but whatever.” He glanced at you. “How about you?”

“I think I did pretty good,” you admitted. “But I noticed there were so many mistakes on the exam.”

“I know, right!?” Jamie laughed, making you instantly match his smile. “So many questions had the same answer choices! Like, answer A was the exact same as answer B. What happens if I pick B, but it’s actually A, but they’re literally the same?”

“Exactly!” you grinned. “I just circled both to cover my bases.”

You were surprised by how easy it was to talk to him, considering this was the first time you had ever actually spoken.

The conversation flowed so naturally that neither of you noticed how much time had passed until you glanced at the time and realized you were now ten minutes late to class. shit you thought.

You groaned internally because you didn’t want to end the conversation, but you knew you had to since the class you were late to had the more strict professor known to man.

“Anyway, I really gotta head to class,” you said reluctantly. “But it was really nice meeting you, Jamie.”

“You too,” he said, smiling. “I’ll see you in class.”

You gave him a quick wave before heading off, but the whole walk to your class, you couldn’t stop replaying the conversation in your head.

A couple of hours later, after your class finally ended, you pulled out your phone to check your notifications. And when you opened Instagram, you saw a new follow request.

From the one and only Jamie Drysdale.

You knew for a fact he had to go through the class registry to find you.

Stalkerrrrrrr you thought smiling

Maybe, you actually had a chance here.

[spadesolace]

stay a little longer - yeji x reader

synopsis: if there is one thing that you wish to never lose, it's your best friend of who knows how long. but when things take a different turn, one that involves closing a chapter that never happened - are you ready to face reality as it is?

words: 4.6k

here you were, standing by the front door as you hugged yeji, ready to call it a night and head back home. sometime in the party, you had sneakily left a letter for her, somewhere in the pile of gifts she had received but not right at her face.

a quick wave goodbye as you walk out of her apartment, glancing back for a second before you go on your excruciating way back to your place.

yeji has become a constant in your life. you’ve known her since freshman year of high school - it felt longer as you grew closer through the years. now, free from high school and finally working in your respective fields of work, you can’t help but think back to those moments of when you were young (still are).

it was such a different time, learning how to handle emotions, balancing extracurricular with homeworks, finding time to socialize outside of class hours, and experiencing so many firsts. how you managed those activities post-high school makes you wonder to this day.

you and yeji clicked when you were in the same class, only having a chance to talk when you got grouped for a final project for the semester. she caught your attention even prior to talking to her, you admit that she’s pretty but that was it. girls appreciating girls.

yeji caught the attention of many, the majority being boys confessing their undying love for her. all of which she declined or at least gave it a shot - it was a total bust, somehow yeji had decided if they don’t seem to vibe well with you, that was it.

boys would start treating you nicely, in hopes you’d put a good word to yeji - again, a total bust. none of them would pass, it was questionable because some of them were actually nice, gentlemanly, and had utmost respect for women. so, why? why do you speak of them badly if they weren’t so bad?

it didn’t click that easily, you’re denser than a rock and your other friends would point that out. they didn’t help you out, never tried to guide you into realizing what it was that you’re feeling. there’s anger, sadness, and irritation, but you could never directly admit it even if that thought crossed your mind way too many times.

sitting by the bench as you watch another possible suitor of yeji make their way to the girl - you could only watch with ryujin right next to you. according to her, it was similar to watching a ticking time bomb go off, as if once it reaches zero - would you realize your own feelings or would you simply sit there and wonder why.

“fuck.” ryujin watched as you ran your fingers through your hair, leaving it disheveled, contrasting your usual neat uniform. in the corner of her eye, she could see your foot tapping, fist closed with the thumb to your lips as you watched the interaction - everything screams that you were agitated.

“what’s got you fidgeting?” your head snapped at ryujin, why were you fidgeting? what made you suddenly feel like this?

“i… don’t know…” you weren’t completely lying, a part of you knew but clearly was in denial of feeling any sort of emotion that would be heavily associated with the big L-word or romantic feelings at all.

“why do guys always roam around her? like there are plenty of girls at campus but why her?” there it was, you were slowly ticking off - almost close to exploding. ryujin was now counting the second till you finally go off and it seemed to be her lucky day.

“like i get it, she's pretty, smart, talented, and really shines on her own but doesn’t overshadow others whenever she’s with a group. can’t they find someone el-“ you could hear ryujin cackling next to you, taking a close look at the girl laughing, you furrowed your eyebrows. why is she laughing in the middle of your rant?

“what?”

“nothing.” ryujin wiped away the tears in her eyes, reeling herself back to reality as she looked at you. “seems like someone is jealous.”

you scoffed, looking away with your head held up high as you denied it. “pssh, me? jealous? as if.”

one thing you will never admit is your own feelings, you could quickly read anyone one’s emotions through context clues but when it came to your own - oblivious. ryujin had to point it out, spell it even, that you were slowly but surely liking yeji more than as a best friend.

it was ridiculous at first, you liking yeji? listing down everything you’ve done for the girl that according to ryujin was much more than a friendly gesture; somehow it all screamed that you do have a thing for the girl not far from you.

“almost everyone could see that you’re head over heels for yeji.” ryujin nudged you once more, trying to get your head out of your ass as everything seemed to make a lot more sense. “no one in their right mind would buy their friend boba tea on a random saturday because she said she wanted one.”

“well, jeez, sorry if my love language is acts of service.” could you really blame it on your love language that you’d go far and beyond for this one girl which you know would probably not feel the same. you sat there with ryujin; a sly smile on her lips as if she had managed to let you admit it indirectly.

“so you like her?”

“shut up.” you can’t deny it anymore, as complicated feelings are, something about hwang yeji makes you feel different that no other person has. maybe it's the hormones but you never really know, there’s this unexplainable feeling in your guts that makes you want to puke. it makes you sick in your stomach yet it feels right.

any sane person would think you have a stomach bug, get yourself checked out and see if it’s true. after reading romance novels, you’re well aware that whatever your feeling is infatuation - nothing more. the sick feeling in your stomach, sweaty hands, and your heart beating faster than you could comprehend. you like her.

it’s annoying now that ryujin has managed to make you admit it when you’ve been in denial for who knows how long. there’s this girl that’s been on your mind from when you wake up until you fall asleep, like an advertisement you can’t skip and slowly you’ve been persuaded to actually try the item out - as if it’s not that bad.

it was bad, mental torture to watch yeji go through suitor after suitor as if they were disposables - then again, yeji never tells you anything until its done. you sat there with your book waiting for time to pass as you didn’t want to head home right away.

“hey.” the only reason why you didn’t want to head home right away; yeji stood in front of you with her brows furrowed, running her hand through her hair as she sat next to you. no invitation needed because this is becoming a habit.

after every dismissal, you’d sit somewhere around campus with a book, a spy if you will. yeji has always asked you to stay behind and keep an eye out in case the boys she thinks of giving a chance turns out to be no for good. you’ve grown accustomed to the arrangement of acting like a spy and it was no surprise as yeji sat in front of you clearly pissed.

“another fail?”

“i really thought he was a nice boy, a month in and suddenly i see him flirting with some girl a year above us.” you cringed at the imagery, not wanting to take part in knowing more about yeji’s romantic life as if it isn’t stabbing you in the heart with a knife and slowly feel it being twisted.

“so what’s your plan then?” you know asking isn’t exactly the smartest but before anything else you’re yeji’s friend. yeji could go on and on for hours about planning her revenge but it’s the first time she was quiet - nothing to say about the boy as the words she muttered were much worse than the knife in your heart.

“am i unlovable?” for someone at the age of 15, that is not something you should be asking but hormones are insanely high that you really can’t do much as you shut your book, sitting next to the girl. awkwardly wrapping your arms around her as your fingers threaded through her hair. the silence was deafening when your mind was buzzing with things you wished to utter out yet you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from saying anything romantic.

“no,” was it worth the risk to tell the girl how she’s the very reason you’re feeling such things when she couldn’t even feel it? “saying you’re unlovable is equivalent to saying it’s impossible to love you…”

what is a 15 year old thinking of saying such things? you’re definitely not one to know what love actually feels like but you could only describe the feeling of being with yeji. as limited as possible.

“i don’t think you’re unlovable.” yeji scoffed, completely in disbelief by what’s coming out of your mouth.

“how can you be so sure of that?”

“cause… i feel it. i don’t know what love actually is but i know that it’s possible to love you.” yeji pulled away from your embrace, holding onto your shoulders as her gaze focused on your eyes as if to find any hints of deceit or uncertainty - only to see sincerity. you’ve always been honest with her, that’s why she comes to you whenever she needs advice or a talk to bring her back to reality when she’s overwhelmed.

that very bench changed the way yeji looked at you, it wasn’t as if you’re just friends but you couldn’t decipher what it is - was it a good change? you’re not too sure because you barely heard from yeji talk about boys. when she does talk about her love problems, it had been settled or she’s stumped because unbeknownst to you - her standards have gotten higher once she’s realized how much you’ve done for her. a part of it is possibly because of your feelings for the girl but regardless, you treat your friends the same way - if anyone were to love the people you care about, why not raise their standards by doing things that are beyond the bare minimum.

as years went by, you’ve gotten closer with yeji - a few encounters with her suitors here and there, to which one of them seemed perfect for her back in your senior year of high school. soobin.

you’ve grown to notice the closeness of the two but never really spoke up about it as yeji usually reaches out and talks about it. although this was one of those instances where you and yeji had gotten in a bit of a misunderstanding - all thanks to your jealousy. the amount of people that knew of your feelings for yeji slowly grew, still the girl hasn’t picked up on the subtle hints from your friends or how obvious it is that you are head over heels for the girl.

“you should talk to her.” ryujin has always been the middle man, she’s seen your fight with yeji slowly escalate out of jealousy, one to always pull away when you’re hit by it.

“i know… but you really think she’s gonna buy the whole ‘i wasn’t thinking straight’.”

“first of all, you’re not straight.” you greeted ryujin with your middle finger right to her face with a smug smile. as she placed your hand down, sighing as she observed how your gaze never left yeji as she sat by the benches next to soobin.

“lastly, you should just tell her how you feel.” this conversation has always happened once every month, or after every fight with yeji. you shook your head leaning onto the wall as if to give yourself some additional space from the words that came out of ryujin’s mouth.

“we’ve talked about this.”

“yeah, so stop being a wuss and tell her. what’s stopping you?”

various things, you could list them all but for the sake of not being smacked in the head by ryujin, you bit your tongue. feelings have and will be complicated, one of which is when the girl that you like has never shown any signs of interest towards the same gender for years. you didn’t wanna assume or speculate if yeji swung that way so you kept those feelings to yourself even if she asks about your crush and you respond with the same - ‘nope, don’t have one’.

“a lot.” 

ryujin is used to your vague answers but this one, she understood where you were coming from. once she didn’t answer, that's where you started to spill your guts, like your vomiting words with each passing second and it seems like you have no plans on stopping. your friend sat there, listening to every concern you have for the past three years that you’ve been harboring your feelings for hwang yeji. it’s not an easy task and she wonders how you manage to keep it all together when you see yeji with a guy that seems perfect for her every single weekday - does it not break your heart just to sit there and watch.

“when do i let go…” tears were now flowing down to your cheeks as you kept your gaze on yeji who was far from you. the girl you’d call your first love is with a guy you barely know. ryujin had been watching you for a bit, pulling you in an embrace as you freely let the tears stream down your face, your mind hazy as you accidentally made eye contact with yeji.

immediately pulling away as you wiped your tears away with the back of your hand, picking your backpack up as you noticed yeji approaching your way. a quick sign of gratitude to ryujin as you waved goodbye and sprinted out of campus. hwang yeji was so confused; why were you crying, why did you run away from her once again, what did she do to cause this drift between you two that neither one would dare lower their pride.

——————

it wasn’t like yeji didn’t know of your feelings - she merely played dumb in hopes that you’d admit it to her face. as years went by, she slowly forgot about it, assuming that maybe you never liked her that way but seeing you cry was like a punch to the gut that maybe just maybe… she was right.

yeji was the one to reach out, hoping that things would be settled between you two once and for all as she stood in front of the front door of your house. a soft single press of the doorbell with faint shouting of ‘y/n open the door’, she didn’t expect that you’d be standing in front of her as if hesitating to shut the door on her face.

“hi… can we talk?” you knew well enough that yeji would lower her pride but not fully only to let you in, to see how low you would bring your pride down. it’s yeji - once she explains her side, it’s game over for you.

“come in, just head over to my room… do you want something to drink..?”

“i won’t be long.” that felt like a punch in the gut as if yeji didn’t want to be with you for more than five minutes. you nodded, letting her greet your mom and make small talk as you both made your way to your room.

yeji has been in your room, she remembers where your table is, how your wall looked so plain near the bed but completely covered by pictures and posters by your study table. was she really going to confront you like this? on the spot when she just saw you bawl your eyes out at school with ryujin.

“i-” “uh-”

“you first.” you always let yeji break the silence first, letting speak her mind as you sat there with your head hung low as you listened to her about why you had a disagreement in the beginning. it was straight to the point, no filters, no sugarcoating, yeji has always been like that when it came to your fights.

“kinda felt like you were stopping me from giving soobin a chance…” it wasn’t entirely wrong but honestly you felt your jealousy take over back then and maybe for once you didn’t want that to happen again. the possibility of losing yeji was greater than ever before as you swallowed your pride and looked at anything and everywhere but her.

“i’m sorry… i honestly don’t know what came over me that day, i wish i knew why,” you’re perfectly aware that you were envious of soobin having yeji’s attention almost every single day. “maybe it was a bad day or something happened that made me snap and honestly i know it’s not the most forgiving nor acceptable reason - but i’m really sorry and i understand if you don’t forgive me.”

one thing that you never knew nor understood was that yeji - in the midst of the chaos that is your teenage years. she knew you like the back of your hand to see how genuine you are but the hidden uncertainty in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed. she wasn’t going to press more questions or for you to defend yourself because yeji knew within herself that you meant no harm at all.

——————

even after things were settled between you and yeji back then, leading to her spilling everything about soobin. it took you a while, even after high school you would check with your emotions and try not to lash out on yeji; you were in no right to feel jealous. years of bottled up feelings and it all leads to you being a wuss and never admitting anything.

still, as the years went by, you weren’t as scared of seeing yeji with someone who seemed to be such a nice guy, a perfect fit for her. maybe that’s why you never brought up your feelings when all that really mattered was yeji’s happiness.

somewhere along the years, yeji knew of your feelings - she wasn’t oblivious but she never acknowledged it, not until you would say something. either way, when things had ended between her and soobin, all she could think of was how you treated her better even as a friend compared to her own ex-boyfriend. when you had sent her a message asking to meet up or hangout as it had been months, it felt as if she was being hoisted up the water - not realizing she had been drowning in her own thoughts and ideas.

“i ended things with soobin.” yeji watched as you almost spat out your coffee, handing you a piece of napkin as you wiped the dribble on your lips.

“what?”

“yeah… turns out when you’re both busy and neither of you want to lower your pride well… it got messy.” this changes everything; as your feelings that were once dormant are making its way back as you desperately push it back down in hopes that it wouldn’t see the light of day again.

“god… i’m so sorry about that.” there was hesitation as you patted yeji on the shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as you nodded, avoiding her gaze as you took another sip of your coffee. “how are you feeling though?”

“surprisingly… fine. i mean we ended things a month ago and well, i never really talked about it with anyone and just isolated myself. this is actually the first time i’ve talked about it.” as yeji’s words processed in your mind, it all made sense as to why ryujin had asked you for any updates on the girl in front of you. having only realized that you two barely talked the past month - you felt a bit guilty for not picking up the sudden quietness from yeji after years of knowing each other that all you could muster to say was an apology.

yeji wondered as to why you apologized but maybe it was because of what happened. still she didn’t read too much into it. it had been months since she had last seen you - somehow college has been treating you nicely compared to her. your baby fat is no longer evident on your face and you’ve definitely taken better care of yourself - still you’re the same girl that yeji knew back in high school.

the rest of the day was spent with a cup of coffee and dinner right after. yeji was indeed surprised when you learned how to get to her university but how you learned somehow left a bit of a bitter taste in her mouth.

“yeah, i used to date someone who went here but didn’t last long, like a few months only..? it’s been a while honestly.” there was something different about the way yeji held onto your arm, a soft smile on your lips as you reassured her that you’ve cut ties with them long ago - seeing that they really weren’t worth the time unlike her.

“well… i should probably head back, i’ll see you maybe sometime next week around the same time?” and there it was, the very same smile yeji had back when you first met her, you felt your heart skip a beat as yeji agreed to it - not without kissing you on the cheek as she said goodbye.

you stood there dumbfounded with your hand to your cheek as you waved goodbye to yeji, more so a see you later as you slowly walked back to the bus stop with your hand still pressed onto your cheek. it didn’t take long until you called ryujin who you were well aware was very much awake despite the late hour. everything that had happened except for the fact that yeji and soobin ended things as that was yeji’s story to tell.

“uh… we talked a bit… had coffee and then continued with dinner-”

“sounds like a date.” ryujin knew how to press your buttons and this time she did it right as you stood there waiting for your bus as you snickered.

“shut up - anywho, i walked her back to her dorms and i sorta asked her out…”

“SHUT UP?!” based on how ryujin screamed in your ear on call, you really… really… didn’t want to get your hopes up as you could hear ryujin’s muffled screams in her dorm room.

“you done?”

“hold on-” there was another series of cheers and screams on the other line, making you laugh at your best friend’s antics. “ok, i’m done.”

“you should have waited for me to say the next part but she said yes - and before you scream - she kissed me on the cheek and now i feel like i’m back to being 15 and confused.” there was silence, ryujin was too stunned to even speak as she had her mouth open as she processed what you just said - questions arose as you tried to explain the situation as best as you can but you were as confused as ryujin. you can’t disclose the fact that yeji and soobin broke up, let alone how messy the situation was until yeji told ryujin herself.

slowly it became the norm, every other week you and yeji would meet up, either near her university or yours, somewhere neither of the two have been to. even yeji’s physical affection was getting bolder every time you saw each other. from hand holding to sudden cheek kisses, it was all sudden that those dormant feelings you had for yeji were slowly coming back.

——————

for yeji, seeing you was like a breath of fresh air, you were definitely still the same but matured and had grown a bit in a good way. she didn’t know what came over her when she had kissed you on the cheek that night, nor the following times she had held your hand or hugged you longer than it should. there was one thing she was certain of - she didn’t regret any of it. somehow it felt natural to do such things with you that she hoped and prayed you’d stay longer whenever you’d visit her.

yeji was falling for you before you could even notice it.

ryujin was now well aware of the break up as one meet up, she had joined you two and it felt as if you were back to being a teen in your high school with your two close friends. a first hand experience as yeji leaned onto you as you both respectively worked on your respective assignments and readings. it was surprising to see you so calm with yeji being physically affectionate with you after that hangout; ryujin just couldn’t help but ask.

“so are you finally going to confess.” you bit your lip as you shook your head, feeling ryujin hit you on the shoulder as she was ready to knock some sense into you.

“i’m not going to confess right away… i mean come on, she just got out in a two… three..? year relationship. give yeji a bit of time, i don’t know.” ryujin could only sigh, she knew well enough that you wouldn’t just simply put yourself out there when yeji’s comfort and needs has always been your priority. she never asked again, knowing deep inside you’ll confess on your own time.

who would have thought that time came when you’ve finally graduated from college, having stable jobs at the age of 25. when you had brought up that you were going to confess to yeji through a letter, you left out the part where you were ready to accept reality as it is if yeji rejects you.

you spent days on the letter, trying to convey your feelings of ten years that it feels surreal to actually write it all down and let her read it. before leaving yeji’s place after celebrating and cleaning up, discreetly leaving the letter on the table as you waved goodbye and headed on home.

sure, it’s cliche to sit there and write a letter about how you’ve long before liked her, let alone love her but the story doesn’t end there. even if you tried dating others, a part of you is looking for her in the crowd - it’s yeji, she’s your dream girl. but not every dream is easily attainable.

ten years of unsaid feelings with mixed signals in between and you’re finally letting it out as if it were nothing. it wasn’t that you took advantage of the friendship but you simply were ready to leave that chapter behind and accept the friendship yeji was willing to give you. not too long from your walk home - you could hear footsteps behind you, it was fast and getting louder with each step you took.

someone had crashed into you, arms around your waist holding onto you tightly as if you’d be gone if she lets go. you noticed the envelope in her hand as she pulled you closer, her body pressed onto you.

“you idiot.” that was the first thing she said as you turned around, tucking the loose strand of her hair behind her ear as she finally looked at you. hitting you on your chest as if you had done her wrong, you probably did with her tear stained cheeks as you wiped them using your thumb, until you held her by the cheek..

“i know.” yeji could only laugh as she once again hit you on the chest.

“you’re so stupid! if you had just confessed earlier!”“i’m a wu-” as if time had stopped once again, like you’re being thrown back to being 15 with how you merely stood there with yeji’s lips placed on top of yours. it took you seconds to process what was happening as you finally… gave in and kissed her back.

the letter.

[loverickyys]

. ݁𖦹₊ ⊹ Professor Hanbin!

minors dni (answering an ask by anon, can't include it unfortunately!)

- frankly speaking you were not a bad student. always able to keep up with the burden of assignments in uni but it all changed when your psychology professor had to leave mid semester, a younger professor coming in to substitute him.

- you never thought the new professor will turn out to be so hot that from being a top scorer your grades will plummet so badly, all due to him of course.

- don't get it wrong, hanbin is a great teacher. he listens well, he never discourages anyone, helping everyone around with his ever pure and angelic smile. in your eyes he is literally an epitome of gorgeous.

- and that's where the problem starts. he is so hot and pretty that all you can do is stare at awe, blushing when he smiles back at you so beautifully or your stomach exploding in butterflies when he bends down slightly against you to help you with a question.

- no wonder all you think about before, during and after his class is him. your head is filled with him. hanbin, hanbin, hanbin cluttering in your mind even at a glance of him.

- exam season comes and you fail badly. (who else can be blamed other than your sexy professor of course). while distributing the results hanbin's eyebrows furrow with disappointment as he asks you to stay back after the class to have a chat. the sadness from the awful result already vanishing as your heart beats with excitement getting to spend some time alone with him.

- "i wouldn't lie to you. i am pretty disappointed, you were among the top students earlier the semester. makes me wonder if my teaching methods are not helpful to you. do you need any help, you can always ask me." hanbin sighs, leaning back on his desk with you standing in front of him. the class is empty and only the soft music he plays during the sessions can be heard in the background. he looks displeased and confused, staring at you for some reason.

- you look in his deep black eyes. he is looking even sexier today, wearing a white shirt, left unbuttoned to show his tattoos, brown trousers that fit make his thighs look delectable and glasses sitting at the bridge of his nose.

- "it's not my fault professor, you are always distracting me." you smile a little, a weird confidence overtaking you (probably directed by the horniness you feel looking at him) as you stand up straighter coming on his eye level. hand moving slowly to pop open a button of your pink blouse to show some cleavage.

- hanbin gulps slightly seeing your movements, eyes not so shyly going to your boobs. "i am not sure what you mean by that. and if it's what i am thinking it is, i'll have to say that is highly inappropriate of you." he tries to fight back. he has now rolled up the sleeves oh shirt, hand flying to open another of his shirt's button as if to mimic your actions.

- you know he is clearly not backing away. pushing yourself more you lean towards him, palm coming in contact with his chest, your index finger tracing the lines of his tattoo. "and what are you going to do hanbin, report me? you want this too, accept it."

- there is a glint of surprise in hanbin's eyes but he regains his composure almost immediately. smirking as he grabs your chin pulling you closer, lips inches away from you. his arm wraps strongly around your waist, trapping you in his hold. "what do you want? just say it" he scoffs and let's go of you leaving you a little frustrated with the want to connect your lips together and taste him. your thighs rub uncomfortably, panties sticking due to how wet it feels underneath your white skirt.

- "i want you to pass me in this exam" you cross your hands across your chest. hanbin chuckles darkly, eyes now filled with lust. "and why would I do love?" he smiles at you, taking off his glasses and putting them on the desk. "because if you do i'll let you use me as your personal cumslut, professor"

- he doesn't need to be told twice, picking you up immediately, nails digging in your thighs as you yelp and hold on to his shoulders. he throws you on his desk not caring about the mess he is making. "you really shouldn't be talking like that you know?" he grabs you by the neck pulling you in for a messy and rough kiss, tongue sliding in your mouth instantly. your hands tug at his hair pulling him closer and closer while his pry your legs open, now standing between them.

- you let go to catch your breath, a string of saliva between you both as hanbin attaches his lips to your neck, nibbling and sucking harshly. you moan at the sensation and feel one of his hands sneakingly going inside your skirt and underwear. his fingers excitedly rub circles at your clothed core and he slips his index inside your hole, hooking it up and teasing your sweet spot. "fuck i- hanbin i-" you groan out as he fingers you slowly. "cat got your tongue now huh?" he teases you adding another finger.

- the way his fingers move in and out of you and the added pleasure of his mouth marking your neck and collarbone has you cumming in no time. he helps you ride the orgasm, cooing at how pretty you look practically screaming his name. he pulls out his fingers to pop them in his mouth, groaning in satisfaction at your taste before taking them out and pushing them in your mouth for you to suck on.

- you suck on his fingers delicately then instantly drop on you knees to return the favor. looking up at hanbin as he stares at you with pure lust and awe in his eyes. "let me help you professor" you give him an innocent smile and unzip his trousers. there is a patch on his boxers, cock begging to be freed from its confinements. you palm him gently as he grabs your hand. "don't be a tease now love" he says and you follow his orders, pulling his boxers down with the trousers. cock slapping at his stomach, tip red leaking with precum. it looks pretty just like he does all the time. your mouth waters as you lick a big stripe from the top to the bottom of his cock, sucking the tip lightly.

- hanbin grunts when you take him fully, mouth wrapped around him and hands playing with his balls. your tongue swirls around his cock, loving his taste. "you are such a whore, aren't you love" he groans in pleasure fingers tugging your head as he starts to fuck your mouth. you moan around him, the degradation making you rub your thighs together. you take whatever he gives you, now speeding up as tears well in your eyes, spit gathering at your chin.

- hanbin cums with a low groan, eyes blown, shirt all messed up, not letting your mouth leave his cock for one bit. when he is done he lets go off your hair and pulls you back. you still sit on the floor diligently, opening your mouth to show him you have swallowed everything. he smiles, his whisper dimples showing at his cheeks, "such a good girl, my little cumslut. consider your grades up love." you smile back at him, never been more satisfied.

(Had to repost because my account likes to get on my nerves sometimes :)

[kurinhimenezu]

90 Day Baby Daddy - Adam - HH

Previous Chapter <- -> Next Chapter

Chapter 2

Author's Note: Plot lost itself a little but it'll be explained in the next chapters! I have no idea how long this will be so hopefully we'll find out together

CW: Adam cursing in front of babies, mentions of stalking (but not really emphasized)

Enjoy

Arrem looks worriedly over at her friend typing furiously at her laptop.

“Hey man, I’m just saying…maybe get a student loan? Instead of like selling feet pics to save up for some semesters for college seems a little much, right?”

“I really don’t want to be in even more debt to be honest with you and I am NOT selling feet pics! I was just writing someone’s essay for a couple of bucks” Y/n made a face before picking up her coffee. “At least we can mooch off of some wifi around here”

Arrem nodded and toasted her cup before taking a sip. Her eyes occasionally flitting back and forth to her book and to Y/n.

“Okay what is up, you’ve been staring at me looking like you wanna explode or something” Y/n took another sip of her coffee and placed it down on the coaster.

“I still can’t believe that…” Arrem leaned closer, whispering, “I still can’t believe Adam is the guy that knocked you up…why didn’t you tell us?? We could’ve sued the pants off of the guy for unpaid child support”

Y/n snorted, shaking her head. Arrem was always the practical one, even when her suggestions tend to be a little psychotic and the only one who knows her kid’s actual father.

She looked at her friend, dressed simply with her boots and long sleeves. She’s sometimes jealous that Arrem and the rest of the guys managed to finish their studies with relatively no problem.

Pen and Arrem took the same degree and are studying for their work licenses, working in the diner for the mean time to have some extra cash in the bank.

Fish finished his teaching degree a year before them, gave up teaching after seeing how fucking dumb the students of today are, thus crushing his hope for the younger generation and sunk his savings in a diner that’s surprisingly doing well to support him and his mom.

Which was sweet.

It’s a little difficult to not feel inadequate when you’re stuck someplace you can’t seem to get out of. She did try to finish college, hell she only had a couple of classes left to but being heavily pregnant and having to walk everywhere just to get to class just got too difficult. The judgemental stares didn't help either.

She had to drop out and take care of her baby.

It’s not all bad, she’s grateful for the kid and couldn’t imagine not having her after seeing her after birth. She just wishes she got pregnant on her own terms. Hell after graduating would've been nice.

Y/n frowned, she still couldn’t remember how she got into Adam’s bed in the first place and it’s really bothering her when she has some time for herself to think.

“I’m serious!”

Y/n snapped out of her thoughts, “Hm?”

Arrem sighs, taking a bite of her hashbrown viciously. Girl loves her potatoes. “I mean if it weren’t for him—”

“I know but it’s no use dwelling in the past...besides you love the little bean, right?” Y/N grinned.

Her friend crossed her arms and looked away, “Yeah, I do…she’s got spunk but what’ll you say when she grows up? Toddlers are smart sometimes you know”

“I’ll get to that bridge when I get there right now, I’m enjoying the baby ride”

Arrem uncrossed her arms and turns to look at her, “I’m still sorry…I feel partly responsible for what happened, I shouldn’t have given you all that alcohol and I should’ve kept an eye on you”

Y/n looks at Arrem in surprise. Arrem looks so mad at herself. Has she been holding on to this guilt the whole time?

“Hey, don’t feel responsible, I’m pretty sure I went and wandered off on my own anyway, it just so happens to be Adam I got with”

Her knowing Adam being the father of her child was no baseless accusation.

She knew it was Adam that she got with because she remembered waking up sore but utterly satisfied and his huge autograph written on her stomach along with his “phone number” …in permanent ink.

It took her 3 days to completely scrub all the ink off, (After having Arrem take a picture of course, the picture is tucked away in her little journal along with the rest of the merch she has of Adam’s band. She hates how obsessed she was before the incident)

“Shit man, don’t look now” Arrem mumbled against the lid of her coffee cup.

“Huh?” Y/n discreetly looks at the door, the bell jingling indicating a new customer.

Murmurs start to echo in the small coffee shop and not the usual kind of white noise either. It’s more…excited, quick, hushed whispers and the snapping of phone cameras.

“Yo…hook me up with a venti flat white, would ya? Ya’ll got supersize?”

Y/n internally groaned at hearing that annoying accent. That fucking drawl she thought was charming at one point. Adam has this way of speaking that you can’t really tell where he’s from, like a mix of speech patterns you can’t pinpoint. Y/n just chalked it up to travelling around so much.

The barista flinched at the order before nervously looking at the large man. With that boyish attitude on interviews, Adam still looks intimidating with his studs and spikes with golden eyes lined with what looks like dark smudged charcoal.

Okay she needs to stop.

“Uh sir...that’s more than enough espresso to give a normal man heart palpitations…are you sure?”

Adam looks at the barista like he’s stupid. “Then serve it to me in those little cups then?”

The barista opened his mouth before shutting it closed, nodding his head in defeat, “Yes sir that’ll be $149.99 please”

Y/n choked on her iced coffee at hearing the price, gaping as Adam easily pulled out a black card and swiping it at the machine.  “Jesus man, I didn’t even know this place have those”

Arrem shrugged, tapping on her phone, “He says he’s a struggling artist but you never know with types like him”

“Helloooo ladies”

The two women let out annoyed sighs, one rolling her eyes before looking up at Adam.

“Adam” Arrem nodded, lifting her cup at him, “Big fan”

Adam gave her a finger gun before looking over at Y/n expectantly.

Y/n looks at Adam with a raised brow, judging him from head to toe. “Not so big fan” She smiled at him almost sickly sweet.

Adam huffs, taking a sip of his heart stopping coffee. “Right sooo…” He looks at her awkwardly trying to keep his cool.

It doesn’t help that a bunch of nosy fucks are filming him right now. His PR manager is so gonna fry his ass later.

“Oh! Right…here!” he shoved his hand down his tight leather pants, pulling out a cloth headband, pink and wrinkled with what looks like a fake rhinestone in the middle of it. “Your brat dropped this!” Adam grinned, handing it over to Y/n. He looked almost proud of himself for keeping it safe till now.

Y/n blinked at Adam before looking down at the thing suspiciously, it looked too…expensive to be her baby’s. Before she could protest that it’s impossible to be Addie’s, Arrem nudged her foot with hers.

“Dude...”

Y/n looked at her friend before finally noticing the café’s patrons trying to discreetly tune in to their conversation.

She bit her lip as Adam’s grin widened almost wickedly at seeing her resolve crumble and taking the hairband from his hand.

“Right…thank you SO much Adam, my baby��s been missing this…thing for a few days” Y/n turned the clip around inspecting it. It was shockingly girly, looking at it now she does remember panic buying a ton of baby girl stuff before Addie was born. Maybe she forgot about this particular hairband?

All in all, it doesn’t look too suspicious. Just a normal run of the mill hair clip.

Once Y/n took the ribbon and tied it to her bag, Adam smirked before turning away to sit at the corner booth at the back, the rest of his bandmates coming into the shop to sit at his table.

“Never noticed Addie wears ribbons like this” Arrem nodded at the hairband.

Y/n doesn’t want to make a scene and shrugged, not knowing what to say.

This was the first time she ever saw this hair clip too.

Y/n couldn’t seem to escape Adam lately. From the sleepy part of the city she knew and love turned into the #1 spot for tours, making her daily life seem a little more…ad conscious. Billboards of Adam’s face promoting his new album or a new music video that they’re going to shoot somewhere nearby or other bands opening for Adam playing non stop in TVs in the grocery stores.

Adam had snuck into her life again, remembering her name this time and even giving out his real number. Which she hasn't tried to call.

It wasn’t so bad, the vibes suddenly started becoming energetic with tourists coming in with all the popup events coming in.

Adam would travel around and would always come back after some months to “catch a break” here before going off again.

Maybe she’s feeling a little too full of herself into thinking that a famous rockstar is following her around but it was a little strange.

Sometimes she feels like someone is watching but when she looks around, no one is there. Or it's some rando not even paying attention to her.

But then who else would leave new baby stuff at her doorstep? Definitely not some good Samaritan. Her friends were pretty stumped too when she called to thank them for the gifts.

It was too much to think about and just let it happen.

“Damn how expensive are the frozen vegetables now…?” She mumbled, placing the generic store brand packet in the cart. The grocery was thankfully quiet, the early morning giving her some semblance of peace with the old folks doing their shopping and the sleepy night shifters minding their own business.

Addie gurgled, babbling and taking a bite of her teething ring as she tries to reach for a rubber duck hanging from the shelf.

A large hand plucked the toy from the shelf and handed it to the baby, making Addie squeal happily.

“I’ve never heard you laugh at vegetables before baby…that’s new…” Y/n’s voice trailed off seeing Adam, smiling at her kid and making a rubber duck squeak in his fist.

“Are you serious??”

Adam’s eyes flickered up at her and grinned, “Hey angeltits, looking gorgeous as usual”

“Man your crush on me is really obvious…your groupies must be so sick of seeing me with you”

Adam recoiled from her, handing the duck over to Addie. “Bitch you’re lucky to be in my presence”

Y/n snorts, putting a can of sauce into her basket, “And yet you’re somehow around us whenever you’re ‘on break’ “

Adam made a face and kept quiet, he doesn’t have a good comeback he has to admit so he turned to Addie, “Mommy’s being a cunt huh princesss? Yes she iissss”

Y/n’s eyebrow twitched and pushed Adam’s face away from her laughing kid, “Can you not curse around my baby??”

He only rolled his eyes before looking down at the sorry excuse of groceries in the cart. Something in his gut recoiled.

           | What do you mean?? She can’t be mine!

“Your choices suck ass Y/n” Adam frowned, taking the cart and started shoving actual food into the cart.

| Well...why wouldn’t she tell me then?

“H-hey! It’s not my fault this place has limited stuff-Adam!” Y/n cringed as he grabbed stuff left and right not even checking for the price or sales or even if it was qualified for a coupon before dropping them into the cart.

He even grabbed some of those yogurt bites for Addie.

“Adam” Y/n grabbed his arm, before he could grab a bag of fruit. “Listen…I appreciate the stuff and the concert tickets—”

“Which you didn’t go to and how did you even know it was me sending you those packages?” He pointed out.

She rolled her eyes, “Maybe next time, change your name on the Amazon packages before sending it to my house” Y/n sighs, rubbing her face tiredly. Adam, I can’t afford this stuff…if you think I can you’re sorely mistaken”

Raising a brow, Adam placed the bag of fruit in to the filled cart and started wheeling it to the check out, “And what makes you think I’m letting you pay?”

The cashier started to swipe the stuff in one by one, the prices going up and up.

“Adam—”

“We need to talk Y/n”

Y/n frowned, looking at the man staring nonchalantly at the numbers on the screen before tapping his card easily to pay for everything.

There wasn’t a hint of joking around on his face which was unusual for the normally unserious musician.

Adam took Addie from the cart and carried her, escorting Y/n to the parking lot and letting the cart jockeys help with loading the groceries into the back of his truck.

Y/n wet her lips, already having an idea on what the talk would be with the way Adam was looking at Addie and the way he’s so familiar with holding her…

Shit.

I may have rushed it a little lol

Tags: @sniigura

[augiewrites]

"secret admirer" - dead poets society (part 5)

summary: y/n receives a curious invitation from meeks and has a surprise encounter with neil and todd

pairing: anonymous!dead poet x gender neutral reader

word count: 1.2k

previous | next

It was finally Friday, and Y/N was looking forward to spending the weekend recovering from a week of non-stop exams, cramming, and a nonexistent sleep schedule. The morning’s classes had been a drag so far, and they were looking forward to the reprieve of Keating’s class. Knowing they'd be in close proximity to their admirer aside, Keating’s class gave them an opportunity to activate another part of their brain—one concerned less with grades and formulas.

No, this part was more concerned with matters of feeling. Matters of love, art, expression—everything crucial to finding true meaning in life.

Meaning.

Something that Y/N’s life—and the students of Welton’s lives—was severely lacking.

Y/N shoved the existential crisis to the back of their mind, shooting Todd a smile as he occupied the desk at the front of the class.

Their desk compartment was empty aside from their textbook and notes. Y/N felt their heart drop. It had been empty for days.

Did I make a mistake leaving that poem?

Y/N did their best to not look disappointed. The only thing more embarrassing than their poet’s lack of response was the thought of him observing their discontent.

Keating’s class didn't give them much reprieve that day.

_________________________________________ 

Against their better judgment, Y/N found themselves in the library during common hour. In all truth, Y/N just wanted to go back to their dorm and bang their head against the wall until they fell asleep. Alas, the expectation of a 4.0 GPA was looming over their head.

Thankfully, Meeks was the only other person to show up. Y/N didn't think they had the strength to deal with Dalton.

“So are you just going to keep side eyeing me, or do you have something to say?” Y/N set down their pencil and turned to face Meeks.

“Y/N, you've sighed three times within the last minute,” Meeks quipped, "seems like you're the one with something to say."

“But I'm right, though. You have something you want to say."

“I'll share with the class if you will.”

The two stared at each other for a moment—Meeks' expression much lighter compared to Y/N’s frustrated features.

Y/N gave in first.

“I’m tired, Meeks."

“Of?..."

“Everything.”

“You’re going to have to give me a little more here, Y/N.”

“…”

"I'm waiting."

“My GPA dropped to a 3.7," Y/N’s gaze was fixed to the table, “my parents are not happy. I feel like all I ever do is try, but it's not enough, and it never will be. My social life is practically nonexistent, I don't remember the last time I had fun, and I can feel my spirit dying. Some days it feels like I'm dying."

“You’re more than your grades, Y/N. You have to know that."

“I know that, Meeks. They don't,” Y/N let out a bitter laugh, “they ship me off to this prison, don't let me come home for breaks, and they call me maybe twice a semester if I'm lucky. They see my grades more than they ever see me."

Meeks was silent for a beat as Y/N cradled their head in their hands.

“Tomorrow night. Meet me outside the East wing at 10PM.”

“Meeks, what are you—“

“Just trust me. If you care about your spirit, anyway."

“Fine,” Y/N began packing their bag and stood up, nodding absentmindedly, "yeah, okay."

Because everything was cosmically determined to go wrong, Y/N crashed into Charlie as they rounded the corner out of the library. Their armload of textbooks crashed to the floor.

“Don’t you know to look both ways before crossing the street?" Charlie joked as he knelt to pick up Y/N’s books.

Y/N kept their head down as they gathered the mess of note paper that exploded out of their trig book.

“I mean, really, Y/N. If you want to feel me up you don't need to be so aggressive about it—“

Charlie’s sly smile melted into concern when he noticed the tears in Y/N’s eyes.

"Hey, are you okay, Y/N?” Charlie passed the books to Y/N and placed a gentle hand on their upper am.

Y/N gave the boy a tight lipped smile and stepped away from his touch.

“I'm fine, Dalton," Y/N was already moving down the hall.

“Y/N—“

“If you're looking for Meeks, he's still in there."

Y/N disappeared around the corner, leaving Charlie staring at the space they just occupied.

_________________________________________

Y/N wasn’t one for skipping class, but it was the last period of the day and Y/N thought their head would explode if they didn’t get away from everyone as soon as possible.

They triple checked that the hallway was empty before rushing into the storage room filled with students’ empty luggage.

But the room wasn’t unoccupied like they expected.

Neil Perry and Todd Anderson were in the middle of the room, locked in a gentle embrace.

They jumped apart when they heard Y/N’s soft sound of surprise, and the trio looked at each other in shock for a beat.

“We were just—” Neil took a step away from Todd before the other boy cut him off, surprising everyone, seemingly including himself.

“We’re together.”

They all stared at each other for another moment before Neil stepped forward again.

“You can’t tell anyone, Y/N.”

“I won’t,” Y/N blinked, suddenly coming alive again, “I would never.”

Relief washed over the two boys. Todd was more red than Y/N thought was humanly possible.

“Okay, I’m just gonna,” Y/N took a step back and jerked a thumb over their shoulder at the door, “go…”

They turned quickly to leave.

“Y/N.” Neil’s hand enclosed their wrist as they reached for the doorknob.

They looked up into Neil’s soft gaze, a faint smile on his face, “thank you.”

“Of course,” they returned the smile and waved to Todd as they slipped out the door, rushing to their dorm to avoid being caught for truancy.

_________________________________________

Y/N had been laying in bed for all of fifteen minutes before they heard the familiar sound of paper sliding under the door.

They were out of bed and rushing to open the door before they could think twice. Truancy be damned.

The empty hallway mocked Y/N.

Frustrated tears welled in their eyes as they slammed the door and grabbed the envelope off the floor before ripping it open.

Beloved Y/N,

In your eyes, a storm silently brews, Emotional tempest, tears it strews. I stand close, a silent observer, Love entangled in your pain, a fervent preserver.

Your hurt, a whisper in the quiet air, A shared burden, a weight to bear. In the shadows, love stands strong, A balm for wounds, a solace lifelong.

In the heart's tempest, emotions entwine, Love persists, a steadfast lifeline. I may not heal all that pains your soul, But together, in love, we find a way to be whole.

x, Yours.

Y/N let the tears flow freely as they sunk down onto the bed.

They were certain of who wasn’t their poet, but they were in denial about who it could be.

~~~

part six

a/n: any reality where neil and todd aren't in love is a crime against nature

taglist: @vvnbxz @edb954

[hannie-dul-set]

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS [1].

SYNOPSIS. wherein your friend offers a room for you to crash in while your dorm is being renovated, but fails to mention that your new housemates don’t know how to talk to women (oh, and they also have an ongoing bet about you, too).

PAIRINGS. choi soobin, choi beomgyu, lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun, park sunghoon x female! reader. GENRE. housemates! au, rom-com, sitcom, reverse harem time baby. WARNINGS. swearing, a house fire, mentions of sex, like the chapter title says there is too much underwear in this, an awful amount of embarrassing men WORD COUNT. 2.2k.

TAGLIST. @cerealdreamwriter @tyongff-ff @dinonuguaegi

NOTE. i have nothing to say except i hope you enjoy this shitshow as much as i enjoyed writing it. please check the link in the masterlist if you're curious about the layout of the house. feedback much appreciated i love u.

MASTERLIST | NEXT >

CHAPTER 1 — this is too much underwear for a first meeting.

YOU WISH YOU CAN TAKE BACK ALL YOUR COMPLAINTS ABOUT DORM LIFE. Sure, the disgusting, communal bathrooms scrape a year off of your lifespan every time you have to take a piss, and the abhorrently thin walls make you want to rip your ears out every time your neighbors have mind blowing sex, but hey— all of that is better than not having a roof above your head. Even if that roof is two years behind maintenance. 

But it’s all too late. You should’ve appreciated having a bed to sleep in before life pried it out from you in the form of a swirling inferno.

When the semester came to a close, your dormmates thought it would be a fantastic idea to throw an end-of-year party. The problem is, that party ended up in flames. Literally. The last person you saw entering the kitchen was Choi Yeonjun until something exploded and before you know it, there’s a stampede, and you’re choking on black fumes, and there’s suddenly a lightshow happening right before your very eyes with the dorm building you’ve been living in for the past year serving as the sparkler.

Holy shit, your dorm is burning down.

It’s a good thing that the fire was stopped before it could reach your room. You don’t know what you’d do if all your notes and textbooks burnt down along with half of the building into debris. Even prior to the fire, a lot of the facilities were janky and needed to be renovated, so you had to pack your bags and find somewhere else to stay for the next two months while the place went through repairs.

“Great,” you huff, filling your two carriers with the bare minimum you have collected in your unit. “This is just fucking great.” 

However, just when you’re falling into the brink of homelessness, a friend from your book club graciously offers you a room in his house as a saving grace from your misfortune.

“It’s a small bedroom compared to the rest, but you only have to share a bathroom with one other person! There’s also a laundry room and a living area on the same floor. It’s a big place, so it doesn’t feel stuffy at all even with six, seven people.”

You have no reason to decline Jake’s offer, especially when it’ll be just a temporary arrangement anyway. “Are you sure? You said you have housemates, right? Are they fine with living with another person on such short notice?”

“Yeah, they said it’s cool,” he assures, helping you load your luggage into the taxi. “I’ve been wanting to fill up the last bedroom anyway. The house is just too big even with our current living setup. The more the merrier.”

You’ve always known that Jake Shim was fucking rich. Not because he bragged or flaunted his wealth or anything— but because he’d drop the most privileged, tone-deaf shit at the most inappropriate times and no one can get pissed because he looks oh so innocent while saying them. You had once complained about stuffing yourself with too much meat during a club dinner and that one more bite will have you nauseous. He replied with, “oh yeah, I once ate wagyu steak for a good week in Japan and I got sick of it, too!” and you physically felt your economic status erode at that very moment.

He and you will never be the same. And that fact is made suffocatingly evident right now, as the vehicle slowly pulls into a fancy neighborhood and stops right before the fence of an unreasonably gigantic yard with an unreasonably gigantic house. You do feel a little poor when he shows off the pool and the two garages, but at the same time, beggars can’t be choosers.

Also, it’s a really nice fucking house.

It’s three stories tall, with a covered deck and a substantial amount of outdoor lounging areas. Floor to ceiling windows give you a glimpse of the modern interior of the foyer and spacious living room. You’re a little afraid of getting used to such luxury that you might never want to come back to your old, dingy dorm room— but with every blessing comes a curse.

Jake did mention that you will be living with six other people including him. What he did not mention is that those ‘other people’ would all be men.

Imagine your shock when you’re greeted by a whole ass man in nothing but neon green boxers and shades the moment you slip through the sliding doors of testosterone hell.

Very. You’re very shocked. 

“Hey, man,” Jake greets the almost naked individual who is also holding a bowl of cereal in the middle of the afternoon, presumably having just walked out of the kitchen. “What’s with the glasses?” That’s not the biggest issue here. You can see the outline of his fucking penis.

“Oh,” he reacts. “It was just so bright when I got out of the room.”

Jake nods. “That makes sense.” No it does not.

“I think it just got even brighter.”

You can’t tell, but you assume he’s squinting at you underneath his shades. You believe you might also need a pair because there’s definitely a contender in being the brightest thing in the room, so you try your best to not be distracted by the neon of his undies as Jake introduces you to him. “And this is Park Jongseong— or Jay, as he prefers to be called.”

“Call me whatever you like,” Jay smiles at you and reaches out his non-cereal hand for a handshake. He seems chill enough. Maybe he’s just a very laid back person who doesn’t care about general appearances. You can work with that.

“Nice to meet you.” You shake on it. “Aren’t you cold, by the way?”

When he retrieves his hand, he combs his fingers through his hair, ruffling the strands. “My friends often say that I am pretty cool.”

“No, I mean cold,” you clarify. “That does look like a statement, but I’m worried you might get sick.”

You’re starting to get an inkling that you have misjudged Jay. It takes him a few seconds to understand what you were referring to, until a breeze passes by from the open entrance and suddenly, he looks down. “Oh,” he flatly says. “Of fuck.” And the innocent bowls cereal crashes and spills into the ground as Jay disappears into the hallway to your right.

You and Jake stare at the milk minutely seeping into the wooden floor. “I was gonna ask him to help you with your luggage but—” Where Jay disappears, a new person emerges (fully clothed this time, thankfully). “Oh! Hyung, come help.”

He has his neck turned back as he walks up to the both of you. You can hear the sound of footsteps scrambling from where the newcomer is looking at. “What happened to Jay?”

“I don’t know, but let me introduce you to our new housemate!”

“Hi there.” You give him a smile.

Jake tells you his name is Choi Beomgyu, and Choi Beomgyu doesn’t exactly look like he’s keen on accepting your handshake. Instead, all he does is stare you down with his arms crossed, eyes scaling your entire height like he’s doing a motherfucking evaluation. You’re trying your damn best to maintain a pleasant expression. You almost break when he quits his rude staring and turns over to Jake. “So, you need me to help carry her things?” The bastard isn’t even talking directly to you. Your pride can’t take this hit.

“No, it’s alright. I can take care of these myself. Thanks!” Jake flinches when you snatch your second carrier from his hands. “Third floor, right?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Got it.” 

Yes, you might have shoved past Beomgyu on purpose, but that’s not the point. You leave the two behind to take care of Jay’s fallen cereal as you struggle to lug your luggage up the staircase. You manage to bring them all the way to the second floor landing before your arms give in and you let the two cases settle on the floor with a huff. When you pause to take a breather, you catch a familiar face walking down the stairs from above. You recognize him from Jake’s instagram stories. You’re sure his name is Lee Heeseung. “Oh! Let me help!” he quickly exclaims after noticing the situation, hurrying down the steps. “You’re the new addition to our residence, right?”

“Yes, I am, and it’s totally fine! You don’t have to—”

Big mistake. You should’ve just let him help, but you’re a little prideful so you reach out for the carrier he took, and when your fingers brush against the back of his hand, the man suddenly drops the fucking case and retracts his entire arm. You stare, wide-eyed, as Heeseung stumbles back to the ground next to your carrier that happened to crack open in the fray and is now spilling out all your clothes like guts and blood. Behind Heeseung, the door creaks open. “Is everything oka— oh my god, is that a b-bra—”

Well. It is, in fact, a bra, and its color seems to match the flushed face of the poor, unsuspecting individual that just opened the door out of concern for his friend. You make eye contact with him once before he retreats into his room with a loud slam! Heeseung is still on the floor and he’s now profusely apologetic.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault, please let me help—” The issue dawns on him belatedly, right when it’s already too late and he has your undergarment in his hands in the midst of trying to undo his mistake. “I don’t think I should help.”

“Good call.” You kneel down, politely prying your blood red bra from Heeseung as you proceed to gather the rest of your clothes back into the carrier.

“I should cut my hands off.”

Oh no. “Hey, it was an accident. It’s fine—” When you try to reach a hand out to give him a completely innocent, completely harmless pat on the shoulder for assurance, he flinches back again. Now your arm is awkwardly hanging mid-air and you’re both looking at each other with shared looks of alarm. The exchange (or lack thereof) reminds you of a forgotten memory— a memory from your childhood. Snacktime all throughout elementary school, to be specific, when all the boys would fucking run away from you and your girl friends for having cooties.

This moment is oddly reminiscent of that and you don’t want to acknowledge it.

“What happened? I heard a crash, is everything alright?”

By the time Jake arrives, you have already managed to clear up the crime scene. With a grunt, you get back up and prepare yourself for another round of heavy lugging. “Can you tell me where my room is? I think you should stay here and make sure your friend is okay.”

“It’s...the first door through the hallway, next to Sunghoon’s. Hyung, are you good?”

You have no idea who the fuck Sunghoon is, but you nod in acknowledgement anyway. “Who’s the person living in that room?” 

“Soobin hyung,” Jake answers, helping a dazed Heeseung back to his feet. “Why?”

“You should go check on him, too.”

With that, you leave another mess in your wake as you climb up the flight of stairs to the third floor. You can’t wait to rest. You really want to lie down. But when you walk past the hallway, entering into the floor’s unreasonably cozy living area, you’re met with a fucking fork in the road.

There’s one door right across the hallway, but when you open it, it’s not a bedroom, but a laundry room. So you make a sharp right to the archway opening up to three doors on each of the walls. Jake should have been more specific with what he meant by the first door. You don’t want to take a risk and walk into something you’d fucking regret.

Fortunately, someone emerges from the door on your right and reveals what looks to be a bathroom. You assume he’s Sunghoon, and Sunghoon nearly doubles over when he turns around and meets eyes with you. His expression stiffens, and you’re both just standing there for a good moment and looking at each other without saying anything.

You press your lips into a smile. Holy shit, he’s intimidating. Why the fuck isn’t he saying anyting?

“Hi. I’m—”

“S—shit—”

Suddenly, he’s gone. He’s disappeared into the room in the center after struggling to open the door for a bit. You’re left dumbfounded, but at least now you know where your room is.

You slot the key Jake gave you and twist open the doorknob. The empty room greets you with a body slam of fatigue, and before you know it, you’re sinking face down into the bed and you have no energy left in your fingertips. Admittedly, you have questioned yourself multiple times upon first entering the house whether you made the right decision, whether it’d be better to find an apartment, or maybe you should just crash at your parent’s place for the time being.

But this bed is more comfy than any hotel suite you’ve ever been to, and your bank account isn’t suffering from an enormous dent. Six disastrous men is nothing when you’re able to call a place your home. You can already envision where you’ll be placing your new bookshelf. They’d have to pry your new house key from your cold, dead hands if they want you out of here.

HOME FOR THE BITCHLESS. © hannie-dul-set, 2023.

[elliereject]

angst while I work on smth big :p

stardust

“Did you know we’re made of stardust?”

“That’s not true…” You mumbled.

“Yes it is, I fucking swear.”

“Really? How?”

You and Ellie were sat in the green expanse that was the field behind your house, gazing up at the stars and reminiscing about life, as best friends do. You were staring at the sky and she was staring at you when she blurted out the random fact. She sat up, leaning her weight on one hand so she could see you better,

“Research shows-”

“Fucking nerd.”

“Shut up! Research shows, that 97% of the human body consists of stardust.”

“And what’s “stardust” exactly?”

“Oxygen, Carbon, Potassium-”

“So in that case are bananas also made of stardust?”

She huffed and threw her head back to which you laughed. “Sorry, sorry, keep going. I love when you get all nerdy about space.”

She rolled her eyes but she was suddenly grateful for the darkness that engulfed the two of you so you couldn’t see the blush that crept up her face. “As I was saying, they’re made off all the same things we are and since technically they came first, we’re basically made from them.”

“Huh,” You hummed, “That’s actually really cool.”

“Right?” She tucked her knees into her chest and tried her best not to glance back at you cause she could’ve sworn your eyes were on her.

“Hey, Ellie-”

“You know what I really like about stars, though?”

You didn’t reply but she continued, “How even when they inevitably collapse in on themselves and explode, you’re still able to see their light for years and years.”

“Ellie-”

“And how the death of one, can be the birth of tons of others.”

“Ellie.”

She turned to look at you, her jade eyes glossy and slightly red,

“What’s wrong?” You asked concern and worry framing your face.

“It’s nothing.” She said, rubbing her nose.

“It’s not nothing.” You replied, sitting up to place a hand on her shoulder, “You’ve been acting weird all summer, you know you can tell me anything right?”

Anything? How was she supposed to tell you that she’d been crushing on you the entire summer and it was so bad she felt like she was going to explode? How was she supposed to tell you that when you looked at her or touched or even fucking breathed next to her, her palms started sweating profusely and she got so red she had to blame it on the Jackson heat. Most of all how was she supposed to tell you that she wasn’t actually going back with you but was instead moving to Seattle because she couldn’t bear to see you with your boyfriend for another semester as she’s 100% sure her heart would stop pumping blood to the rest of her body and she’d die right at the campus entrance.

She couldn’t say any of that even though she desperately wanted to because she knows how you would react, you’d give her that pitying look you give to stray cats and little kids who’ve scrapped their knee because you don’t feel the same way and you’d say nothing would change but she knows the two of you would go from weekly sleepovers to passing glances and sparse texts.

So she did what she did best, deflected.

“It’s just that..I entered a raffle.” You nodded along, a little confused but still listening intently like she was telling you the meaning of life

“For a galaxy, but I only won a small group of stars..it was the constellation prize.” By the time she finished her sentence, you were rolling your eyes and using the hand that was previously on her shoulder to push her away.

You stood up with an annoyed huff, “Goodnight, Williams.”

She let out a laugh and hoped it didn’t sound as fake to you as it did to her. “I’m sorry, it was a stupid joke.”

“Whatever,” You sighed, stomping over the grass back to your house, “See if I ever ask if you’re okay again.” You were mad but she could see the small smirk and the amusement in your voice that you failed to hide.

“Aww,” She stood up, wiping the grass off her jeans, “Thanks for caring about me!”

Your back was turned to her as you made your way home and you flipped her off which earned you a genuine chuckle, God she was going to miss you.

That night, after she got home, Ellie finished packing up the last of her belongings as well as finally got around to writing her goodbye letter to you, she could’ve just texted you but a letter seemed more appropriate.

In the morning, she gave Joel one last hug before loading up her dusty red ford and starting the drive to her new life, a life without you.

If only she could’ve been there when you strolled up to her house, a little confused on where her car went but you knew she didn’t have plans so you knocked on the door. If only she could’ve been there when Joel opened the door and silently handed you that letter. If only she could’ve been there to see the way your hands shook and tears fell as you read the words over and over again in disbelief. Maybe then she would have realized the feelings you’ve been harboring for her were the same, maybe then you would have been hers.

Maybe, in another life.

— ★

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #31

Only 2 weeks into the semester and school is already beating my ass, but you know who always has my back? That's right baby. Paperinik. New. Adventures. Always there for me when nobody else is.

Anyways um today is PKNA #26: Time Flies which is a fun and normal adventure chapter with absolutely no existential commentary on the nature of art whatsoever.

GIANT ENEMY CRAB WHOOOO YEAH BABY THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN ABOUT

umm ACTUALLY mysterious disembodied voice, Donald is a little bitch so write that down

Shoutout to Malva I think her design is really cool and we love a bald woman they slays. Shoutout to bald women actually, just like in general.

DUDE LOOK they're flying through time... just like the cover art

Shoutout to Malva AGAIN for this outfit. Yas bitch slay!!!

their faces are killing me

Since Malva and Vlad are already traveling everywhere with such little regard for the timestream they should go show a Victorian child an iPhone and see if he dies from shock

YEAHHHH BIG FUCKING ROBOT DRAGON FIGHT YEAAHHHH 🔥🔥🔥

No Vlad is right here, PK and Lyla are doing time travel all wrong. You're supposed to dress up in silly little outfits :/

The 4 of them are so fucking goofy I'm kind of living for this set of characters tbh

AW HELL NAW WE IN THE LAND BEFORE TIME

Enjoying this pair of random Evronian workers who seem to be about as rundown as the rest of us

Goofy asf panel they're just like D:

heh... well then, LET'S. GET. DANGEROU- no wait that's the other guy

LYLA WITH MESSY HAIR RRRAAAHHHHH I love her

WoOAoaoOAoahhh PLOT TWIST!!! Is that DUCKLAS STYVESANT??? Remember? Remember him from Portrait of the Young Hero-

THAT'S RIGHT, WHAT YOU JUST READ FOR THE LAST 60 PAGES WAS ACTUALLY A SERIES OF AI GENERATED SLOP FROM THE YEAR 2255!!! FUCK YOU

Oh.

OKAY SO. Obviously the biggest hit of this chapter comes at the very end, when it's revealed that the entire story we've been following wasn't actually real, and this whole time we've just been reading an episode of a TV show that was entirely computer-generated. Of course, this comic was still made by real artists, because the technology to AI generate photos didn't exist all the way back in 1999 (thank god).

Had I read this comic maybe 4, 5 years ago, I would've probably just been like "oh huh. that's neat." and moved on. But reading this story now, in the year 2025??? Holy shit dude. The accuracy with which they approach the topic of AI art in this story is lowkey terrifying. You're telling me that Ducklas fucking Styvesant can grasp the concept of why AI art would be wrong in the year 1999, and we somehow have people in MODERN DAY that can't grasp why people are against it? 😭

This is another one of those scenarios where you read sci-fi media from the past that's exploring some kind of existential threat, in this case the existence of entirely machine-generated "art", and it's explored as some kind of scary far off "what if" scenario, but yet again we're brought face to face with the fact that this is actually happening NOW. Like NOW now. This comic predicted that computer generated shows would be a newly emerging technology in 2255, that makes us almost 230 years ahead of schedule in the real world. AND I THINK THAT'S FUCKIN CRAZY!!!!

If we're gonna go the route of making all the sci-fi horrors of PKNA into real world things can we at least get an Uno first? I would much prefer him existing over the AI slop that's all over google images now, thanks xoxo.

Anyways to briefly wind down it's time for Lyla comic!!

Shoutout to Lyla for being in what I can only assume is robot therapy

BTW if my coworkers decided to invite themselves over to my house and expected ME to prepare a meal for them?? I'd literally kill everyone in that office.

I can't cook for shit and I even I knew that... also if Lyla wasn't a robot she would have severe burns all over her body right now so. Here's a quick PSA: don't microwave eggs, don't microwave water either, both will explode. Above all else, stay safe in the kitchen.

Anyways here are some shots of Lyla being cute because I think she looks great in this artstyle.

See you next week fellow book clubbers 🫡

[8bit-tincan]

I NEED TO TALK TO ANOTHER PALEONTOLOGIST OR I AM GOING TO EXPLODE.

I'm not even joking. Why the hell is there not a single person who is genuinely interested in paleontology as a genuine career in a FIVE HUNDRED MILE RADIUS. And to *really* top things off, of course the college I chose just so happens to not have a geology program.

And like yes, could I just transfer to UT and benefit from their vastly superior Geoscience program? Yeah! Totally! But that would mean picking up in only my second semester in college and leaving all of my friends and connections to go to a VASTLY different university.

I need answers from Tumblr because where do I go to find more like-minded dino enthusiasts. And not those people that just say "Oh yeah I watched Jurassic Park, I like the T-Rex cause he's scary!" I need to sit down and have a two hour long conversation with someone about why Kentrosaurus has spikes coming out of it's ribcage.

SAVE ME PALEOBLR SAVE ME

[futurewriter2000]

Distance

A/N: Yes, I am alive. Yes, I am writing... from today again. Lemme live okay, there has been a lot going on but I haven't forgotten about my fics. Lucky number request 7 was picked up. Anyways I loved writing this one. Very soothing.

REQUEST: Hello it’s me, do you think you could write a cute jealous Charlie or Meeks, like the reader goes to different school so they don’t have a lot of time together, so one day Charlie or Meeks sees them talking to a guy, and they get jealous.

PAIRING: Charlie Meeks x reader

XX

Year 1959 started off with an odd coldness in the air. Not only because of the winter, but because of all the pressure and the stress of your surroundings.

Exams of the first semester were coming up and your father had you under strict rules, you weren't really obliged to follow. You had no idea why your education was so important to him, as if he wasn't planning about to marry you off anyway.

You never had those hopes for yourself. Yes, you did like to stay at home alone- it was one of your favorite pass times but you had ambitions and dreams of your own. You believed you could achieve them, however with no support of your father, who basically carried the whole family- it was harder to achieve.

Yes, 1959 was cold. Cold and cruel because it made you realise that world isn't that much nice to women your age. You're obliged to act a certain way, play a certain role and be a certain person.

You went to your bed and covered your cold feet under the covers. You thought of your ginger boy. Your sweet Steven. If you could have seen your eyes, you'd see a mirror of glow. You've never thought you'd fall in love with a boy who was all ginger and freckles. You've never even thought about that being close to your type of man but he swooned you over.

The two of you met in one of the hotels during the summer and realised you live close by, only weak 20 minutes away from each other. It was a surprise because you never saw him in your town before but your father didn't much allow you to go out and meet boys.

You did though. That summer, you met this freckly sweet boy, who did nothing but charm you and make you laugh. You thought it was too perfect to be true but there was something in him. Something you couldn't pin down. When he took down those glasses and you could see his gorgeous brown eyes, sometimes just jumped in your stomach.

You've been in love- with him and only him. You could still think of when the two of you first held hands and kissed on the wet grassy field as it rained. It sounded like a fairytale- a movie. It just seemed to be too good to be true and you were afraid that you would jinx it sooner rather than later.

But you didn't have to jinx it, when your father was doing all the work. You haven't argued in a house as much as you did at this age. You've had built up anger, holding it inside over the years. Yet, you never wanted to go too far, not now... because in a way, your father frightened you.

Now that your mother was away, taking care of your ill aunt in another state, your father has gotten worse. Like a little child he drinks and smokes inside. You clean after him, you cook for him, you do his laundry, you- it's like taking care of a child and you felt more exhausted than ever. So exhausted, you haven't had the energy to fight him anymore.

So you endured and you missed the only person who would make you feel better.

Private school for boys... could it be any worse? Nine months of barely any contact. You felt like you were about to explode from all this pressure.

He was your safety net. He was the one to catch you, to soothe you, to take care of you when you were so emotional and not being able to even shower. You walked towards the window and looked out.

A big hole in your chest formed because you missed him so much. You wished you could talk to him. Just to talk. He makes everything feels so much better but how, when he is so far away and you are so far away?

---

Steven Meeks has been feeling similiar as you do, except that he simply adored you more than you could ever know. He always asked himself why him and you always told him why not him. Of course, he was still insecure about himself but that was always a great motivation to keep him prooving himself to you. When Knox told him that he is going to your school to talk to the girl he's been fancying, he knew it would be a great opportunity to surprise you.

However, he was somehow oblivious to the fact that there were other boys in the school with you. He walked in with your favorite chocolate candy in his hand, a box shaped as a heart- even though he knew it was cheesy, you always blushed and laughed at it. To him that was only one out of many sights he loved to see on you.

His colour drained when he saw a large, bulky man standing over you. His hand was leaning on the locker and he had one of those pearly white smirks. Unfortunately, he didn't see your face because he was behind you but it was the perfect opportunity to release the rage he has been holding the minute his eyes set on the two of you.

Something went off in his mind. Something he never thought he was capable of. i

He slammed his hand on the lockers behind you, making you jump a bit and turn around. The guy looked up and raised an eyebrow.

It took you a minute to gather yourself because you haven't expected somebody so similar to your boyfriend appear right next to you. You haven't even believed it until he started to speak.

Meeks' eyes narrowed, his lips thinned and his chest puffed out. "You lost?"

The guy threw his head back in shock. "What?"

"You deaf too?" Meeks continued. "I don't see a single reason why you should be talking to my girl?"

He let out a laugh and took a step forward but Meeks didn't even blink an eye. "Your girl? You? Where you from? Popsicleland?"

"At least my clothes fit, yours are about to tear any minute." he continued to glare at him and you could see the way this was only about to escalate if you wouldn't interfere.

You pushed them away and dragged Steven, barely, around the corner. He was still huffing and puffing but you didn't even care. You didn't care about his challenging male outburst or fragile male ego- you simply jumped into his arms and hugged him so tightly, you were about to burst.

His anger drained slowly into a realisation who was holding him so tightly. The smell of your parfume hit reduced the anger and he hugged you so tightly and as he did so, you started to sob into his arms.

"Shh... I'm here..." he started to caress your back with his hand but you felt this huge amount of release when he did that. When he pulled away to see your drained, grey face he immediately became worried.

He cupped your head into his hands and looked deeply into your eyes. "(Y/N), what's wrong? Why are you sad?" he whispered, his eyebrows furrowing worriedly.

"I just missed you so much." you hugged him back, leaning your head on his chest and squeezing him. He simply didn't know what to do except pressing your head against him and kissing the top.

Oh how he loved you. His heart was simply throbbing from the sadness and the love he had for you. Why were you sad? What did he miss? Why wasn't he here more than he is?

"I love you so much, (y/n)." he mumbld against your head and pulled away, cupping your head again. "I love you and I'm sorry I haven't been here for you. I'm so sorry."

You laughed, wiping the tears off your cheeks. "You're too perfect to be sorry." you smiled and put your hand on his cheeks. "I just love you too."

---

You told him- you told him how pressured you felt and he felt enraged as you continued your sad, pitiful story. He held you so close to him, tightening his grip around your waist, kissing the top of your head whenever your voice started to quiver.

But oh the warmth of him. The presence, soul and love of him. It soothed you like no other thing in this entire world. You didn't know what it was. Was it love? Distance? Longing? But oh how warm and loved you felt by this man.

"I am so sorry." he said.

"What are you sorry for?" you smiled, caressing the hand that held you so close.

"Sorry you had to go through this alone." he said and your smile faded. You leaned back on his chest as you watched your feet drag up the grass until your knees were bent. You laid them on his outstretched legs and he pulled you even closer up to him. "It's my last year there..." he said and looked down at you. You looked up and your eyes met.

You could always read him so well. "Meaning?"

"Meaning I'll get the job as soon as possible and I'll save up for a wedding and a house- even a dog if you want."

You started to laugh. "What about your dreams as a literature professor?" you sat up, serious this time and placing your hand on his cheek. "What about Knox and Charlie and Neil-"

"They're my friends but you're the person I want to spend my life with." his eyes softened. "I want to marry you."

You leaned your forehead on his and smiled. "That's a shame because I want to be married to a literature professor."

[twistedminutia]

A Million and One Minutia: PPE and Elements

Gray and the science club discuss protective equipment and the basic elements of the universe.

Read the rest of the chapters here and crossposted to AO3 here.

I’m going to preface this by saying that I like Rook. He’s a pretty decent guy. He got me a bunch of feminine products at the beginning of the school year, something he apparently does for everyone at the school who has a period and hasn’t figured out how to ask Sam for them yet. He’s got an uncanny amount of knowledge on everyone at school, but I’ve never seen him use it for anything seriously untoward (unlike a certain someone I could mention). He’s over the top and yes, pretty unsettling if you’re not used to it, and, okay, he can be pretty insensitive. But I’ve never actually seen him be straight-up cruel.

That being said. Sometimes he’s kind of hard to be around. Primarily because his response to a nice, safe activity is ‘wow, this is boring! I wonder how we can spice it up!’

I eye the cauldron. It’s sparking. It’s been sparking for the past few minutes. “So. You’re sure that’s not going to explode?”

“Well, one can never be truly sure about anything,” Rook hums as he hefts the wooden paddle. “But I doubt we are in any significant danger!”

“Okay, one, how much do you doubt it, and two, how much danger is significant?” I ask. Rook just laughs merrily and goes back stirring the potion.

I’m supposed to be taking photos of things, to get some good shots for the science club writeup in the newspaper, but I can’t decide whether I should or not. On one hand, having the camera in front of my face will probably give me a decent shield if whatever’s brewing in the cauldron does decide to go off like a bomb. On the other hand, using the camera as a shield stands a decent chance of destroying it, and considering how expensive Crowley implied it is, I almost think I’d rather have my face melted off than work off that debt.

I am wearing safety gear- Professor Crewel doesn’t let anyone into the labs without it. But I’m not sure how much it’ll withstand an explosion. Or acid. Or any of the other things that might come out of that still-sparking cauldron.

“Hey, Gray.” Trey steps into the room, the door swinging momentarily open, then shut. I get a seconds-long glance at a few nervous freshmen peeking around him like little ducklings. None of them are brave enough to venture in. To be fair, I’m not either- Rook grabbed me the moment I showed up.

“Ah, le Chevalier de Roses!” Rook casts a hand out toward Trey. “Have you come to take a peek at my experiment?”

“More or less,” Trey says. “I thought we agreed on doing experiments that wouldn’t scare the freshmen anymore.”

Rook’s eyebrows go way up, though I can’t tell if the surprise is affected or genuine. “Hm? But this is not a frightening experiment! A simple light discharge potion! It’s quite safe!”

“I think the sparking is scaring people,” I offer. Rook’s eyebrows go up further.

“But these are not unsafe either! They’re not strong enough to catch on the floor- hair, perhaps would be another story, but that is why we tie our hair back in the lab, and as for our safety gear… well, it is safety gear for a reason.”

“I don’t know if a lab coat is going to do well if sparks hit it,” I say. “I feel like it would at least smolder a little.” We did have a big lab safety runthrough from Professor Crewel at the beginning of this semester- students don’t usually go into the lab for their first semester apparently. We didn’t have a fun little video for it, which was kind of disappointing, but he gave us the basic ‘wear your lab coat, goggles, and gloves in the lab at all times, no running, keep long hair tied back, here’s where the fire suppression devices are, and DO NOT try to stop a fire by dumping a water spell on it’ spiel. Apparently, if you’re a mage, your first instinct to seeing a fire is often to summon water magic. But since a lot of potions have some kind of oil component to them, it can lead to a much bigger fire. They have a sort of magic fire extinguisher along with a regular one, with the magic extinguisher being just a glass ball you throw at the fire that explodes into expanding foam.

Trey adjusts his goggles. He must have prescription ones, or just a weak prescription for his glasses, because those are tucked into the pocket of his lab coat. “Our lab coats are enchanted, so they’d be able to withstand some sparks hitting them.”

“They are?” I ask. “Professor Crewel didn’t mention that, I think…”

“All PPE you’d wear into a magic laboratory like this one needs to be enchanted for safety,” Trey says. “It’s a bit like our dorm uniforms- it acts as magic armor, plus some added spells for heat resistance and fire suppression.”

I look down at my labwear. It doesn’t feel any different from the coats we wore in my lab classes back home. Maybe a little higher quality, I guess, like a sturdier material, but there’s no indication there’s magic. “Can you tell if something’s been enchanted like that?”

“Oui, trickster!” Rook hums. “Mages can check if there is an enchantment, though someone without access to magic would need to use a device.”

“Ah,” I say. Well, I guess it’s not like I really need to go around checking things for enchantments. Until Ace learns something to jinx my bedsheets, I guess, because he would be willing to do that to me. “That must be convenient, to be able to enchant things to be fire retardant.”

“It’s not as handy as it sounds,” Trey says. “You have to get a mage to do it, and not all mages are skilled at enchantments. Vil could probably manage a lot of this with his signature spell, right?”

The question’s directed at Rook. He still stirring his potion, the sparks having become more intense, practically dancing over the surface of the pot. He doesn’t seem worried about it. “I believe the Roi du Poison’s spell would certainly be able to bless something to become fire resistant, but I am uncertain how much energy he would have to expend to make the effort something close to permanent. His spell is certainly powerful, but the flexibility means that its effects are not always long-lasting.”

Trey nods. “I thought it might be something like that.” He sees my expression and adds, helpfully, “Single-use signature spells tend to be better at duration than ones with a lot of flexibility, depending on what the spell is doing. My signature spell has a lot of flexibility, since I can overwrite any one characteristic with another, but it would be hard to maintain it for more than an hour or so in one shot. Riddle, meanwhile, can only do one thing with his signature spell, but he can keep a collar on someone almost indefinitely, provided he wants to do so. Vil could probably maintain his own spell for longer than I could, but it would take a decent amount of effort, depending on what he’s doing.”

I nod slowly. Magic’s complicated. I looks easy, most of the time, but I guess it requires a lot more thought and care than I usually think about. Magic can do this and that, but not this and of course it’s impossible to do that and then signature spells are a whole other ballpark of weird. I try to keep up, but I’m working at a seventeen-year disadvantage. I guess I’m lucky people like Trey are willing to take the time to explain things to me.

“We were talking about lab gear,” I remind Trey. “You were saying that this stuff’s complicated to make?”

“As far as I know. It takes a couple of enchantments to make the magic permanent, or at least permanent enough, and even then, because it’s in a high-stress environment, the protection needs to be redone every few years. Assuming the clothing survives that long.”

“Survives that long?” I repeat. “I thought the magic was supposed to make everything invulnerable.”

“Nothing can truly be invulnerable, trickster,” Rook says. “And the protective wear here is armure sacrificielle!”

“He means that if the lab coat is caught in magic that would destroy it, it activates safety precautions that destroy the coat in order to create a shield. And some potions can be a little volatile when you make mistakes or experiment with them, so…” Trey casts his eyes over to Rook. The potion’s glowing now, the sparks so thick over the surface that you can’t make out the individuals anymore.

“That’s helpful,” I decide. At least if the potion blows up, it might not kill me, then. I’d probably have to get the camera under it in a hurry, though… Actually, speaking of the camera. I should probably finish up what I came here for. “Rook, do you mind if I get a photo of the potion? That won’t mess you up or anything, right?”

“Non, dear trickster! Take as many as your heart desires!” Rook says. I snap a couple photos of him stirring, trying to get the glow of the potion to act as a natural light source. One manages to catch Rook right as he’s looming over the potion’s surface, so he almost looks like a mad scientist. Perfect.

“Did you want to see any of the other experiments?” Trey asks as I tuck my camera under my lab coat, against my chest. “I can show you around.”

“Yeah, I could get some photos of those, too,” I say. “Do you mind, Rook?”

“Not at all! There is something quite meditative about working on a potion in one’s lonesome,” Rook said, not taking his eyes off the surface.

“Okay, let me grab my things,” I say. I start to gather up my bag, which I’d deposited in the corner, and place my camera in there. “Are there any cool projects to look at?”

The science club is one of my favorites to visit, most of the time. Not only is the company pretty good, but the variety of things people do is fascinating. Experiments with plant growth, magitech, alchemical experiments, biology studies- every person here has something they’re interested in and the little twist of magic makes everything new, if also a little alien. I spent half an hour just looking over someone’s project on how a magically infused area impacted the biology of the local animals.

“There’s a chemistry study someone’s doing that looks interesting,” Trey says. “Pure chemistry, too.” He sometimes tries to find science projects that don’t involve any magic for me, maybe trying to make things feel a little more like home. It doesn’t really work, but I appreciate the thought.

“That sounds cool,” I say, swinging my bag up onto my shoulders. “I can’t believe it, but I think I’m looking forward to chemistry class next year. I hated that class when I took it last year, but chemistry seems pretty normal here.”

“We probably have the same base elements, otherwise you wouldn’t survive here,” Trey muses. “Oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon, sodium. You’d need them to live.”

“At least that’s the same,” I agree. “The stars are different, but there’s still a hundred and eighteen elements on the periodic table.”

“A hundred and twenty,” Trey corrects. We’re just about to reach the door, Rook waving after us, but I pause.

“I thought there were a hundred and eighteen,” I say. “I was pretty sure…” I suppose it’s possible for me to be wrong- chemistry was never my subject. But I had to memorize the elements of tests, and while I couldn’t recite all of them, I at least remember one hundred and eighteen blank spaces staring back at me.

“I’m pretty sure it was one hundred and twenty,” Trey disagrees. “Hold on.” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and starts tapping something into it. A triumphant smile tugs at his mouth. “Aha. Here. I was right.”

He holds out his phone to me. He’s pulled up an image of the periodic table. It looks mostly recognizable- the taller bars at the ends, the relatively flat middle, the weird section that sits beneath the rest of the table. A couple of those have different names, which makes sense. I guess Einstein didn’t exist here, so no Einsteinium. But what draws my attention is another small box, sitting close to the right side of the periodic table. Two elements that I have never seen before.

“What are those?” I ask, pointing at them.

Trey pulls his phone back to look. “Thauman and Mystium. They’re magically conductive elements, and two of the main components of magestones.” He thinks about that for a second and something like a slow wince crosses his face. “Which… you don’t have in your world.”

“There are magic elements here?” I say faintly.

“Magically conductive elements,” Trey says. “They’re supposed to be elements whose structure allows them to engage more readily with magic, despite not being living things. Mystium allows magical transmission. Thauman is good for controlling blot. Add them together and they make excellent magic tools.”

It makes sense, you know? It makes perfect sense. Magic exists as a new form of energy- why shouldn’t there be new elements, too? And I know about magestones. I’ve seen people using them for ages, even seen a mine they come from. They’re not something we have on Earth, so they must be made of something different than just regular gemstones, but…

I remember feeling this way when I learned about the stars. Looking at the sky and then looking at the solar system Riddle had drawn out for me and realizing… oh. We really are different.

There are two extra spots on the periodic table for elements that are linked to magic. There are only one hundred and eighteen elements. Now there are one hundred and twenty.

(It’s a nicer number, at least. More even. Maybe I should be grateful about that.)

“Gray?” Trey says. His voice sounds like it’s coming down a well- distant and sort of echoing. “Are you okay?”

I thought I was doing so well, but my eyes are misting over. I haven’t cried in ages- didn’t actually think I was capable of it. And this is such a stupid thing to cry over! I don’t want to cry in front of Trey and Rook. I think they’d be relatively nice about it, I guess, but… they’d also be sort of pitying about it, or, in Rook’s case, a bit over the top, and I don’t want that either.

Fortunately, the tears sort of peter out after only a couple seconds and it takes only a single swallow to get my voice back under control. I’ve gotten pretty good at it, actually. “Yeah. It’s just… weird.”

“I bet,” Trey says, with no real understanding. It’s not his fault, but it is a little frustrating.

Rook, who’d been doing nothing but listening and stirring the entire time, pipes up. “Perhaps it is best not to have more elements to dig up in your world, Trickster. There have been wars fought over resources like Mystium.”

“It’s not like my world hasn’t had wars over stuff like that,” I say. “We mine things too. I think we’re slightly more oil-reliant than your world, too.” I don’t know if this is the case everywhere, but at least on Sage’s Island, not a lot of people seem to own cars. There’s a lot of public transport, though. Ace and Deuce also talk more about using public transport in their own towns, but I don’t know if that’s a Queendom of Roses thing or not. Epel definitely mentioned his family having a car, at least… And they do use plastic pretty regularly here, so they must be drilling oil somewhere…

“Rook’s right about the wars,” Trey says. “Once people learned you could use magestones to control blot, there were massive fights over the stones. Some of history’s worst wars were over resources like that, especially once mages started becoming more organized and a few kingdoms were established around powerful mages.”

Wars over resources. Another way our worlds aren’t so different, even if this world is a lot more peaceful. “Trey,” I say, hesitant, “you don’t have to if you don’t want to, but… could I see your magic pen?”

Trey shrugs and lifts it out of his lab coat pocket. “Here.”

I’ve held them before- Grim got a pen even though his magestone isn’t attached to it, and he’s more than eager to let me write notes for the both of us. The pends themselves are nice. Definitely the fanciest pens I’ve ever held. They’ve got a nice weight to them, the ink has a smooth, flowing quality that makes them easy to write with, and there’s even a spell on them that makes sure the ink never dries or runs out. And a spell that auto-returns the pen if it’s lost- more than thirty feet away for more than ten minutes and the pen, which has apparently been ‘attuned’ to its owner, will teleport back. Given that I usually carry Grim’s actual pen for him, this has led to several occasions where the pen vanishes off my person and zaps back to him because we’ve been separated for too long. Usually he just tucks it into his ribbon when that happens, and I’ve started making sure I have another writing utensil on me.

But I’ve never really held the pen with a magestone on it before. It gives it some extra weight, though not as much as I would have thought from attaching a rock to a pen. Trey’s magestone is bright red, but if you look carefully, you can see tiny specks of black clustering along the lines between the facets. Blot. I know it’s normal to generate some amount of blot from casting magic, and there’s barely any here, but it’s still a bit unsettling to look at.

“All of the magestones here are cut in the same way,” I say. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Oui, Trickster!” Rook hums. “Standardization of size is one reason- it would be unfair for one mage to have un petit magestone while another gets un énorme stone! But while the cut magestones are also more beaute, shaping a magestone in a particular way allows easier direction of magic and greater containment of blot!”

“Some people argue different cuts work differently, but supposedly there’s a certain pattern that makes it better for focusing magic and blot,” Trey explains.

I nod. “Like when you want to use a diamond or something for a laser, you have to cut it in a certain way so it magnifies the light.”

“Exactly,” Trey agrees. “The shape of the pen helps, too- or, at least, that’s the tradition. It’s supposed to mimic a magic wand. Anything that conducts magic along the length of it acts as a focus to a spell.”

“Not every school follows such a tradition, bien sûr,” Rook says. “Some mages wear their magestones on a finger, allowing the magic to follow that as it would a wand. And some mages wear them over their chests, stating that such allowed them to cast directly from the heart! Quite a romantic notion, non?”

“Is there really an advantage to having the magestone on the pen?” I ask. Grim doesn’t use his pen because it’s generally unwieldy to point it at things using his paws. But if it would make things easier for him…

“Riddle’s shown me a few studies that say it can help a mage target their spell,” Trey says. “But it’s probably a psychosomatic thing to help control the magic. Like, most people can use their signature spell without reciting the whole incantation, but because a signature spell is such a deep part of your magic, it’s much easier to do it when you’re chanting something to focus it.”

“There are some advantages to channeling magic through an object!” Rook chimes in. “Brooms are the preferred tool of flying for this reason- the long, straight handle works as something to gather and project magic along while the branches at the end provide a large surface area to dispel flight magic from. It is quite an elegant design. Why, these stirring paddles are much the same!” He hoists his paddle out of the potion, which has started emitting a faint humming. I eye the surface with a certain amount of caution. “Magic is projected along the length of the stick and then diffused by the greater surface area at the end!” A couple drops of potion drizzle off the paddle and hit the glowing surface. Showers of sparks erupt in their wake. The humming intensifies.

“Rook,” Trey says, stretching an arm over me to usher me back. “Did you swap the firefly essence for glowworms when you were making that?”

“Non!” Rook says, placing the paddle back into the potion. “But I did allow for some extra sparkstones, as they-”

The potion explodes.

It’s a silent explosion. I don’t mean the explosion makes no sound, though, by definition, it doesn’t. I mean the rolling wave of light that emerges from the cauldron actively seems to snuff out any sound that it reaches. I can feel the wave of oppression slam into my eardrums with a feeling not unlike when you need your ears to pop and they won’t. Everything goes white for a second, there’s an enormous pressure in my head, and I can’t hear anything.

And then it fades, rapidly dying down until I’m blinking the last of the dazzle out of my eyes and I can hear Rook and Trey speaking. Their tone is a bit strange, though. They sound panicked.

The smell of smoke reaches me a second before my eyes fall on the source of the commotion.

Fire. There’s fire, not the fire safely contained under a bubbling cauldron or on a stove burner, but a spreading fire, licking across the floor as it follows the path of the spilled potion, sending up acrid smoke that will choke me while the oppressive heat gets closer and closer and everything withers under heat and everything that can burn will burn and when it gets hot enough everything can burn-

There’s a noise I register first as a faint hiss, then as the sound sort of like a whipped cream container dispensing, only much larger. And then the fire is doused under a foamy blanket of white as Trey uses the fire extinguisher on it.

It’s quiet for a few moments. Rook has his magic pen pointed at the basin the cauldron usually sits over. The fire there is out- students usually set and maintain the fires they use for potion-making. Rook must have extinguished the flames as soon as he realized the fire wasn’t controlled. But they were already spreading by that point, and a mage’s control over fire gets more tenuous the further it spreads from their initial fire. A mage can set an initial fire and control it all they like, but the further it goes from the initial set point, the harder it is to extinguish on command. Rook’s fire hadn’t spread far, but given the magical source it was feeding on, it might have escaped him more readily than he’d been expecting.

(I know a lot more about magic now than I register most of the time, and it’s still less than half as much as everyone else here.)

Trey must have made a grab for the extinguisher as soon as he realized there was a fire. He sets it on the ground will a dull thud. Nothing appears to have been damaged. The potion, now a sort of silvery white color, is spilled across the floor. Part of it is covered by deflating white foam. There aren’t any scorch marks. The floor is stone, so the fire wasn’t able to spread any further than the potion. If the potion had hit the wooden shelves and the fire had been able to follow it there, we might have been in trouble. But Trey managed to extinguish it before it could get that far.

Trey, who is now looking at me. “Gray? Are you okay?”

It’s when he asks that I start to register my body again. My back is pressed into one of the wooden shelves, as physically as far away from the fire as I could retreat. One of the shelves is digging into my back, just left of my spine. I’m not crying- in fact, my eyes are completely dry, since I apparently haven’t blinked in a few minutes. My breathing is weird- tiny, tepid gasps of air that barely move my chest.

Rook and Trey are both looking at me now. I take in a slow breath and step away from the shelf.

“Sorry. I wasn’t much, uh. Help, was I?” I say, trying to make my tone light and joking. It just comes out kind of strained.

“Je suis désolé, trickster!” Rook says, looking stricken. “I did not mean to frighten you! Are you injured?”

“No, I’m fine,” I say. “Totally fine.” Trey is still looking at me. He’s got a really good Mom Gaze- like when your mom looks at you and you can feel the actual weight of her stare trying to press information out. Fortunately, I am relatively immune to Mom Gazes. “The fire freaked me out for a second. Probably good that Professor Crewel isn’t here, right? I’d get a lecture about how to properly manage an alchemy fire.” I try for a laugh. It comes out mostly correct, if maybe a bit too hysterical.

Trey sighs. “He probably would. Don’t feel too bad about it. Most people panic when there’s fire. I just grew up in a bakery, so fire safety was drilled into all of us kids from a young age. Just remember, Professor Crewel keeps two fire extinguishers in the lab. One in the cabinet, the other wall-mounted, on opposite sides of the room.”

He points them out to me. I nod along. In fairness, I don’t think it’s totally my fault that I don’t remember Professor Crewel’s safety lectures, because fifty percent of it was just DON’T USE WATER MAGIC ON THE FIRE. I spent half the lecture tuned out because it wasn’t relevant to me, then realized Grim had also tuned out and spent the rest of the lecture trying to impress upon him the importance of the first half.

Rook leans over the cauldron, peering at the remains of the potion. “Very odd,” he muses. “According to my prior research, the sparkstones shouldn’t have caused quite such a violent reaction.”

“Can I see your notes?” Trey asks. Rook produces a fortunately-undestroyed notebook and they both lean over it for a moment. I wander over and catch a glimpse, but it must be some third-year alchemy stuff, because it’s incomprehensible to me.

“You’re right,” Trey decides. “The sparkstones reacting with the rest of the ingredients could have caused a lot of sparks, but they should never have caused that much of an explosion.”

“None of the ingredients should have,” Rook agrees. “And I am certain I added nothing by accident. Which leaves the mystery of how the sparkstones- ah.”

Trey looks up from the book. “Think of something?”

“Sparkstones on their own would not have caused such a reaction,” Rook says. “Unless there was coal dust mixed in.”

Trey’s brows go up, then down. “Oh.”

“Not an uncommon contaminant, not where sparkstones are mined,” Rook continues, looking more serious than I’ve ever seen him. “But certainly something that should have been noticed by the school supplier.”

“I’ve gone over a few of the purchasing ledgers with Professor Crewel,” Trey adds, “when we’re looking at the club budget. For what the school is paying for the sparkstones, there shouldn’t be a single speck of coal dust in there.”

Rook attempts to click his fingers, but he’s still wearing the thick rubber gloves of his lab uniform so it comes out more like a muffled squeak. “The supplier has been shortchanging us!”

“Making the school pay premium prices while pocketing the money they should be spending on the filtering and cleaning,” Trey says. “We’re lucky we figured it out before the second-year alchemy class next week, they’re supposed to be making a heating potion.”

“We need to find Professor Crewel at once!” Rook says. “I believe he would be in the botanical gardens at this time, overseeing any students collecting herbs.”

Trey nods. “We’ll have to hurry- and don’t clean anything up, Professor Crewel will want to inspect it.” He looks over at me. “Sorry about not being able to get you that photoshoot, Gray. Maybe next week?”

“It’s fine, this is clearly more important,” I say, shaking off his apology. “Go get the professor. I’ll head out, I should find Grim anyway.”

Trey nods and he and Rook leave the room at a half-jog. I stand in the center for a few more minutes, breathing slowly. There are no embers flickering in the basin the cauldron sits over, just a couple small logs and smears of soot and ash. Cold sweat prickles along the back of my neck as I look at it. I don’t mind the fires on my stove, or even ones in a fireplace, though I guess I do keep my distance. Even Grim’s flames are okay- their blue color seems almost friendly, somehow. But seeing fire magic makes my stomach twist and watching a fire race outward, licking its way across everything it could burn…

…I want to check on Grim. I turn, gather my things as quickly as possible, and hurry from the room, leaving the partially-burned potion behind.

Read the next chapter here.

[crazylittlejester]

Jes, this is your reminder that you can and should take some time to recharge or you'll burn out!

Watch good movies and listen new songs, give your brain new things to try and the inspiration will come back, I assure you :)

yes yes, good advice 😭

im taking a bit of a break from writing rn, just to get my thoughts working again and also to give myself time to adjust to this semester’s schedule. I used to only have school 6 hours per week and i had SO much time to write because of that (after i quit my job lmfao because it unfortunately was so awful) and now i have a very full schedule and school four days a week 💔 brain breaks are good and my brain is tired, so im gonna take another week or so off from writing so i dont explode ajkdskkddkdk

in other news i picked up crocheting and making bowls, im entering my arts and crafts era >:)