#because i’m not forcing something if no one wants it. especially not something as complex and heavy as the disorder

[pinkfey]

the thing abt rowena and alistair that kills me is how her making him king is (in her head) an act of love in the same way her parents sending her with duncan against her will was

[babyleostuff]

── OLYMPICS MASTERLIST

[🛹] DISCIPLINE: SKATEBOARDING

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers(ish), introverted reader, vernon being the greenest flag of them all PAIRING: skateboarder!vernon x athlete!fem reader WARNINGS: explicit language and a couple of sexist comments WORD COUNT: 3.1 k

“not the anti-sex beds again,” katie groaned, like it was the end of the world.   

rolling your eyes, you threw your duffle bags on the bed next to the window. though, as dramatic as she could get sometimes, and as much as you couldn’t wait for the games to begin - you were not looking towards sleeping on the cardboard monstrosities. the amount of massages you had to get four years ago because of them was not something you’d like to go through again.

“it’s not like you’re going to have sex anyway,” sam nudged katie with her shoulder and threw her own stuff on the bed next to yours.

“i’m not talking about myself, stupid,” katie said. “our friend over here,” she put her arms around you and squeezed your shoulders, “needs to get laid. she almost managed to bang that rugby dude the last time, and i can feel it in my bones,” she took a deep breath, ”she’s going to succeed this year.” 

you tried shoving her away, as sam erupted in a loud laugh. 

“hah hah, very funny,” you mumbled, and flicked katie’s forehead. “i’m here to win medals, not to find a hookup.”  

“mhm, sure,” sam said. “we’ll see about that.”

the next morning you stood up with the first rays of sunshine, a lot earlier than most people in the village, with a plan to make the most of your only day off before the eliminations. it’d get crowded quickly, so you figured it’d be nice to soak in the surroundings without hundreds of people bumping into each other. you didn’t bother to wake the girls up - you were eternally grateful you could share this amazing adventure with them, but you needed some time alone. 

besides, there was a 99% probability that sam would skin you alive if you tried cutting her beauty sleep short. 

before leaving the building, you managed, to your delight, to find the gym and the swimming pool, which surely would become really handy in a couple of days. then, you found a small farmacy a couple of blocks away, and a post office where you took a couple of pictures in a photobooth and wrote short letters to your friends at home, before throwing them into the mailbox. 

though the streets were starting to get busier and busier, because well - the athletes, their trainers, the volunteers, staff - everyone wanted to see what this year’s host had to offer, it was still pleasantly peaceful, and you could enjoy your time alone to the fullest. and apart from the cardboard beds, the village was so nice. the purple colours especially. 

just as you turned around the corner of south korea’s apartment complex, you felt and heard your tummy rumble, and thatwas your cue to find the dining hall. fortunately, it didn’t take you long. apart from the big ass signs with “dining hall”written all over them, most people that you passed were walking in one direction, which could only mean one thing.

after a short while, you entered the big room, all purple and pretty, already filled with hundreds of athletes and staff. 

scanning around the huge hall, you tried looking for someone, anyone you knew, but to no avail. most of the tables were already taken, but somehow, to your misfortune, none of them were taken by anyone from your country. you sighed and twisted the pendant hanging around your neck, trying to distract yourself from the fact that you’d be forced to sit at a table with people you did not know. 

there went your peaceful morning. 

without wasting more time, and before you’d completely spiral over the lack of familiar faces, you picked up a plate and cutlery and made your way to the queue for food, standing behind two chinese athletes. 

the line moved slowly, but you didn’t mind. as much as you weren’t particularly overjoyed with the loud noise and chaos, it was nice to do some people-watching. the different races, heights and widths, cultures, languages - all within one building - that had to be one of your favourite things about olympics. 

“isn’t that the chick kyle fucked last time?” suddenly a male voice pulled you out of your thoughts, as if your brain knew that the comment was direct to you. drowning out the noise around you, you tried your best to focus on the people behind you. 

“he didn’t fuck her, she ran away the second he touched her tits,” another guy said. “fucking prude,” he snickered. 

you felt your cheeks heat up - in embarrassment because you were right there, and they knew you could hear them, but also in anger because what they were saying was just not true. 

“i told him to go for the track runner, she had a better ass anyways,” the first guy said, as the other laughed. 

comments like these were nothing new. men like these were nothing new, but it didn’t make the ache in your chest any less painful. worst part was that you’d let them, you wouldn’t stop them - you couldn’t. anytime you tried standing up for yourself you felt at loss for words, your throat closed up, and your mind went blank. 

“excuse me, guys,” a new voice joined in. “the last time i checked this was the olympics, not who has a better ass competition.” 

you didn’t have the nerve to turn around to see who that new voice belonged to. you just clenched and unclenched your fists, trying to control your breathing. 

“also if i may suggest one thing-,” 

“you may not-,” 

“you may want to check out your own ass… or the lack of it,” you could hear the smile in his voice. 

the two guys grumbled something and left the line, but not before one of them bumped into you with too much force for it to be just an accident. muttering a curse under your breath, you massaged your slightly sore arm and prayed to whatever force for the two fuckers not to pass their eliminations. 

“are you okay?” you could feel the guy's breath on your neck. 

fuck, now you had no other choice but to acknowledge what had just happened. if it was up to you, you’d happily skip breakfast and run back to your room. who would’ve thought that the cardboard bed would be the equivalent of a safe haven. 

“uh,” you took a shaky inhale, “i’m okay.” 

“just turn around, smile politely, thank for the help, and move on,” you thought. but as you did that, your eyes went wide, and your breath hitched in your throat. 

you found a set of hazel brown eyes looking at you with curiosity and a tad of softness as if asking a silent question if you were really okay, a kind smile that managed to calm your pounding heart on its own, and cheeks dusted in a light shade of pink as if he had just finished his morning run. the guy couldn’t be much older than you and was the perfect height. you didn’t have to tilt your head in an uncomfortable way to look him in the eye, and he didn’t have to look down at you as if you were a dwarf. 

his dark brown hair was hidden under a beanie, and despite the oversized shirt and shorts, you could make out his lean build, which made him stand out from the other bulky men around. you quickly figured he was part of the us team by his outfit, but you couldn’t rack your brains around what type of sport he could be doing. 

he looked so… laid back compared to everyone around.  

“are you sure?” he asked, his gaze still attentive to you and you only. 

you nodded your head. “sorry you had to listen to that,” you said. 

“i’m sorry you had to listen to that,” the guy muttered. “you know those dudes are total douchebags, right?” annoyance flashed across his face for a second, “people like them shouldn’t even be here and-,”

“it’s okay, really,” you said with a stern voice, cutting him short. grateful - that’s what you were - and it was really nice of him to stand up for you, but you couldn’t shake off the feeling that he saw you as nothing more than a weakling that couldn’t even stand up for herself. and that had to be more embarrassing than the comments.  

he must’ve noticed your sour expression, because he quickly said, “i didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“you didn’t, i… i’m sorry for snapping at you,” god, you really messed this up. this gorgeous boy just saved your ass from getting harassed, and you were acting like an ungrateful bitch. “i’m just not the best at dealing with… whatever that was,” you cleared your throat. “but thank you, it was really kind of you, and you didn’t really have to say anything, but-,” 

“but i would’ve been the biggest asshole if i hadn’t said anything,” he chuckled, amusement sparkling in his eyes. “i couldn’t just let those two fuckers say those things about you. about anyone for that matter. what kind of person would that make me?” 

you nodded, though if you had to be real - you were too distracted by his eyes to focus on what he was saying.

“okay, that sounded so pretentious,” he said, frowning, as if cringing at his own words. you couldn’t help but giggle at his expression. he looked really adorable despite his disgusted look. 

and that didn’t mean anything good. you knew yourself, and you knew how easily it was for you to fall for a person that showed you an ounce of kindness, even if they did it just because they were a good person. and that was probably what was happening now - he saw you getting harassed, he stepped in, said a couple of words, and that would be it. 

but you. you’d think about this for the rest of the olympics. about his teasing voice, the slightly curly hair coming out of his beanie, the fact that you’d never know what kind of athlete he was. the freaking hazel eyes. 

“i’m vernon, by the way,” he, or vernon, extended his hand. 

you cringed at the thought of your sweaty palms, still closed in fists. and it wasn’t like you could wipe them right in front of him. now that would just send you straight into a coma. but you took it anyway, it couldn’t get worse than the comments about your flat ass, you figured. and if he noticed he didn’t say anything, just smiled and nodded when you told him your name. 

“so, do you have any plans for today?” he asked, letting go of your hand way too soon for your liking. 

“i was planning on eating breakfast, but…,” you shrugged. 

“well, i might have an idea then,” he said, a proud smile on his face. “have you ever tried skateboarding?” 

…

you did not think this through. 

trying to skate on a wooden board with four wheels sounded kind of appealing at the moment, but now - now that you were about to actually stand on it? huh yeah, you’d rather stick to keeping your own two feet on the ground.

“it’s not going to kill you, you know?” vernon laughed, as you looked at the board in front of you with pure horror. there was no way anyone could survive skating on that thing, let alone doing tricks and flips or whatever they did with that torture device.  

“just,” he pulled the board closer to you with his foot, “lean your weight on me first and i’m going to hold you, just so you can get comfortable standing on it,” he said, as if it was the easiest thing in the world. 

would he think you were a complete loser if you ran away? maybe you could blame it on a sudden stomach bug or something. 

“mhm, yeah,” you breathed, grabbing his extended hand. “easy peasy.” 

luckly for you, the skatepark was still relatively empty since most of the village was trying to fight others in the queue for food, so the chance of you skating into someone by accident was almost non existent. but that did not change the fact that you were on the verge of a panic attack. why did you say yes to this? why did you step out of your comfort zone so easily? comfort zone was good - you loved your comfort zone. that was what kept you safe from agreeing to skateboarding on a whim. 

but it was so easy to say yes when vernon looked at you with so much kindness. you just weren’t able to decline - there was something about him that put you at ease, whether it was his voice or mannerisms - he oozed with so much calmness that even your erratic heart was screaming “say yes!” 

“put your right foot in front of the left one,” he said, still grasping your hand tightly. “and keep your knees bent, it’ll help with keeping your balance.” 

you watched him as he showed you how you were supposed to stand correctly, and tried to mirror his stance the best you could. 

“that’s perfect,” vernon said with a bright smile, as if you just won the gold medal for not falling off the board on the first occasion. “told you you’d do a great job.” 

“this is ridiculous,” you muttered, as your legs wobbled. “i’m looking worse than a baby trying to walk.” 

he rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically, making you giggle. “i love your form of self motivation. now,” still holding onto you, vernon walked around the board, “uh, is it okay if i put my hand on your waist?” he asked, and your heart skipped a beat.

usually, you’d immediately say no, but… there was nothing usual about vernon as it turned out. if this was your day of breaking your walls then so be it. you nodded in agreement. “try to put your left foot on the ground and push yourself forward,” he said. 

your thin t-shirt did nothing to conceal the warmth coming from vernon’s hand, but somehow, instead of making you more nervous, it only calmed your wobbling feet and shaking hands, grounding you on the board, making it less scary by the second. you’d never met anyone before who had been so gentle with you, so patient and understanding so quickly. 

“like this?” you took your left foot off the skateboard, but before it could reach the ground you wobbled backwards. “vernon!” you shrieked, ready to fall ass first on the asphalt, but that never happened. your back met his solid chest before you could move more than an inch. 

“‘s okay,” he said, gripping your waist tighter. “i’m right here.” 

you breathed a sigh of relief. “i don’t think this is a good idea,” you looked over your shoulder at him. “what if i break your board?” 

“i have ten others,” he stated as a matter of fact, not bothered at all even if you actually broke his board. “try again, i’ve got you.” 

the next try went a little bit better, at least you managed to put your foot down without bumping into him again.

“okay, now push yourself forward.” 

“just… don’t let go, okay?” 

“i won’t,” vernon said. you could feel him so close to you, his breath creeping down your neck. “i won’t.” 

you never thought you’d feel so accomplished by such a simple thing, you were a gold winning athlete for god’s sake, but when you finally moved, when the board skated forward and you were still standing on it - you felt a flicker of pride settle in your chest.  

“that’s it,” vernon said, giving your hand a squeeze. “you’re doing great. try doing that again.” 

and so you did just that. you pushed yourself forward, again and again, until your feet weren’t wobbling at all, and your moves were getting more confident.

“i’m doing it, i’m…,” you laughed, “vernon, i’m skateboarding,” you said, pushing once more. 

“yes, you are!” 

wait. why was his voice so distant? 

that’s when you realised you couldn’t feel his hand on your waist anymore, nor were your fingers intertwined with his. 

“vernon?” you asked, alarmed. 

“just don’t turn around-,” 

but it was too late. you took a look behind you to see vernon standing a couple of metres behind you, and that was enough to lose all of the balance, all of the control. 

“shit,” you heard him scream, right before you closed your eyes shut, readying yourself for the impact. 

the board flew forward as you slipped backwards, your hands flying to your slides trying to hold onto something. but there was nothing, just air. 

but then - the strong grip, the warm embrace, the hands that you trusted so much - you could feel him all around you. no pain, no broken bones - just vernon. 

“shit, i’m so sorry,” he said, still holding onto you. “i shouldn’t have let you go.” 

gently, he helped you sit on the ground, his eyes scanning all over your body, looking for any injuries. 

“it’s fine, i just panicked,” you said, and put your hand on his shoulder, pulling his gaze back to your eyes. “seriously, it was actually quite fun.” 

at that, vernon’s expression softened a bit, and after a second he even flashed you a smile. 

“that’s good, that’s…,” he exhaled. “that’s a lot for one morning i think.” 

you laughed, and shook your head. “yeah, i think you’re right. but you know,” you looked over at the board that was still rolling on its own. “i think i’ll stick to watching you skate. i don’t think i’m built for this.” 

his body shook with a silent giggle. “i’m still proud of you.”

“thank you,” you said quietly. and you truly meant it - not only for catching you, or trying to teach you how to skate - but for standing up for you when he could just ignore it and move on with his day, for pulling you out of your little safe bubble. that thank you meant a lot of things and you hoped that vernon knew that. 

“were you serious, though?” 

you frowned, not really sure what he ment. 

“that you want to watch me skate?”. 

any other day you’d say no, but… 

“yes. i’d really love to.” 

a beautiful smile bloomed on vernon’s face, and you knew right there and then that the feeling of gratitude was forming into something more than just that. 

“my eliminations are in two days, uh and maybe, only if you want, you could come?” 

you nodded eagerly. at this point you weren’t sure you were able to tell this man no at all. 

and you couldn’t wait to see where that would get you. 

[formulawolff]

ii. "think about my offer" - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 2.8k

warnings: cursing, eventual smut, drug & alcohol usage, power imbalances, age gap relationships, flirting, banter, yearning, use of fic tropes, yadayadayada the works

prev. | next.

sypnosis: with the second grand prix of the season well on its way, there is a lot at stake. not only with the race, but other matters as well.

darkness creeps into the motorhome, the lights of the team motorhomes and paddocks illuminating the space. all around you, everything was brushed with a soft white glow. 

his fingers remain under your chin, forcing you to maintain eye contact. in the dim light, you can barely make out the glint swimming in his depths. what was it? desperation? anticipation? you weren’t sure. 

toto was a complex man. you were well aware of that. 

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡

there were days where you would see him glowering around the mercedes paddock, engaged in heated exchanges with engineers. there were moments where you would watch a glimpse of his radiant grin, dimples and all, as mercedes would successfully place or land a podium. of course you had heard the stories about him and his outbursts. his mood seemed to change in a matter of seconds, especially these days. 

well, could you really blame him? 

mercedes had dominated the world of formula one for so long. with lewis hamilton earning eight world championships, breaking barriers and records along the way, mercedes was the top team. it was a team many drivers dreamed of racing for. when you entered the world of formula one, you could barely get one foot in without hearing the word mercedes or the name lewis hamilton. 

that was until redbull had entered the picture in 2022. 

now, they were struggling to even maintain second place. hell, there were some races where the team would barely make finish without crashing a car. or suffering from a malfunction. 

mercedes was no longer the team. they were on the same level to ferrari and mclaren, fighting tooth and nail for those second and third spots on the podiums. 

additionally, you couldn’t help but face the glaring facts. lewis hamilton was leaving mercedes once the 2024 season was complete. their integral driver, the one who had earned them their reputation, their titles, was making an exit. 

was there something behind that? something more than the speculations and gossip?

however, you squeeze your eyes shut, sucking in a shaky breath. 

“why do you want me on mercedes? these days i feel more like a liability to my team than an asset. i’m sure you just saw the spectacle in the press room.”

“because you’re an inspiration,” the notes in his tone are gentle, “you have inspired so many women to pursue their passions in the world of formula one. not just in terms of racing, but for mechanics, engineers, journalists. you have encouraged so many people to do what they love. you are confident. you know your talents and you utilize them. you have so much fucking potential and it makes me so irrationally angry that james does not see that.”

brows furrowing, your hand grasps toto’s wrist, pulling it away from your face, “does this have something to do with james? it’s common knowledge that you like to hold grudges, toto.”

the principal coughs slightly, “that may have something to do with it.”

“then my answer is no,” venom oozes out of your words, “i’m not some pawn to be used as a ‘fuck you’ to james for leaving mercedes. i’m not taking any part in that. i’m going to need you to leave.”

“that’s fine,” toto nods, responding coolly, “i figured you’d react this way. you are extremely close with james.”

“well no shit,” you mutter, pointing towards the door, “mr. wolff, i am going to ask you kindly once again. please leave.”

“i will,” placing a hand on your shoulder, toto locks eyes with you once more, “think about my deal, little dove. in the meantime, i’ll be waiting.”

“waiting for what?”

“if you’ll accept my deal,” his thumb massages along your collarbone, “you didn’t say yes, but you didn’t say no. i can tell you’re considering it.”

“you’re stubborn,” you retaliate, yet the pressure along your collarbone is relieving, the sore muscles relaxing, “they weren’t wrong about that.”

“i am quite the stubborn man, schatz,” toto can sense your exterior crumbling as his hand glides towards your shoulder blade, massaging gently. 

“i know you’re manipulating me with your extremely good looks and nice hands.”

“and yet,” toto’s voice is low and he leans in, mouth hovering by your ear, “you’re falling for it.”

“are you flirting with me, toto wolff?”

“maybe i am,” his breath fans against your ear as his hand delves lower, fingertips brushing along your ribcage, “it seems to be working. look at you, nearly crumpling to your knees at my touch. how long has it been since a man has touched you like this, schatz?”

it takes everything in you not to let out a groan as his hand rests on the small of your back, “y-you need to leave.”

“i will this time,” he murmurs, “but consider my offer, little dove.”

a vibration on the countertop interrupts the principal. snapping out of your trance, you pluck your phone, the illuminated screen notifying you that you had a couple of missed calls, and numerous text messages. 

one particularly caught your eye. 

it was daniel. 

i’m going to be on my way in five. i hope you’re okay. i know you probably don’t want to talk about the press conference very much, but we can just cuddle or something. 

“oh fuck.”

toto towers over you, eyes scanning over your phone, “i take it that is my cue to leave.”

“your cue to leave was fifteen minutes ago,” your tone is dry, yet he cracks a smile. 

“i hope you know i’m going to keep pestering you until you give me an answer. have a good night, little dove. i’ll see you around, yeah?”

“sure,” you respond. placing two hands on his back, you give him a small push, “you need to go before daniel thinks something weird is going on.” 

“is he your boyfriend or something?” toto obliges to your action, the austrian beginning to stroll towards the door of the motorhome. 

for him, the exit was merely a few strides. but fuck, was he sticking around. daniel was going to be there in a matter of seconds. who knew what would happen if they happened to cross paths. 

similar to toto, daniel was not one to let things go. 

“no!” you snap, “leaaaavveee!”

“fine, fine,” toto huffs, “think about my offer, schatz. i will see you around.”

as the principal slides out of the door, you bring a hand to your temple, massaging it. 

what the actual fuck just happened?

seconds later, a series of knocks breaks the silence. 

“come in!”

daniel peeks his head in, concern painting his features as he notices your state, “why are you still in your suit?”

shrugging you point to your phone, “i was in the middle of an intense phone call when you texted.”

“ah,” he opens the door, a bottle of wine in one hand, a bag in the other, “i brought food, if that’s all right? i figured you would need some after that prick grilled you in the press room.”

“can we talk about something else?” you groan, crossing over to the couch. you flop on it dramatically, earning a laugh from daniel. 

“we could talk about how max adores you. i think kelly has some competition.”

“i wouldn’t say that,” you lift your head up, fighting a smile as daniel pulls a series of parcels from the bag, “what did you get?”

“something i knew the american would like,” he teases, ripping open a few wrappers, “a classic cheeseburger with fries. i hope they’re not soggy. i ordered it plain since i know how you are about condiments.” 

“no shake with that?” you giggle, sitting up. wrapping your arms around daniel, you bury your head into his shoulder, “it’s a been a fucking day, let me tell you.”

“yeah?” he stuffs a fry in his mouth, “tell me about it.”

“well,” you’re tempted to spill every single detail about what just occurred merely minutes ago. however, as daniel’s gaze meets yours, you hesitate, “i’m concerned about my future with williams.”

“why do you say that?” his eyes narrow, brow furrowing, “you’ve never said anything like that till now. did something happen on the way back from the press conference?”

“no, no, no,” you respond a little too quickly, “i just – i don’t know. you of all people know how quickly things change in this environment and–”

“hey,” daniel lays a hand on your thigh, “i think you need some rest. you’ve had a real fucking busy day. we can talk about your future plans in the morning.”

“but what if i want to talk about them now?” 

“you of all people know that i am not one to tell people what to do or how to live their lives,” daniel’s eyes harden, the words stern, “but you need to decompress. take your mind off racing for a minute. your life is not all about racing. you need to take care of yourself too.”

“i know,” you allow him to wrap an arm around your shoulders, bringing you in close, “it’s too much to think about sometimes.”

“tell me about it,” daniel places a peck on your temple as you nestle your head into his collarbone, “how about we eat, and maybe we can talk about it later?”

“sounds like a plan to me,” you nod, “hey, i have a question for you.”

“and that is?” 

reaching for a box of fries, you fiddle with it, “are there speculations that we’re dating?”

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡

“how do you think that went?”

james is to your right, tablet in hand. absentmindedly, you fiddle with the visor on your helmet, “all right.”

“just all right?” james queries, “you have pole position for tomorrow and you think that went just all right?”

“well,” you shrug, “we all know that max is going to overtake me, so i can’t be too hopeful.”

“such a pessimist,” james chuckles, placing a tender hand on your shoulder, “you don’t seem like you’re quite here today. i don’t want to press, but is something on your mind? you know you can tell me, right?”

there was quite a lot on your mind, actually. 

in the days following the bahrain grand prix, it was almost as if your mind was a torrent of anxiety, fear, and numerous emotions. there were too many to decipher, constantly overwhelming you, distracting you from the matter at hand. 

although you felt like you weren’t quite on this planet, you somehow managed to breeze past max in qualifying. it was only by hundredths of seconds, but it was a victory nonetheless. charles leclerc was behind max in the third position on the grid. alex was twelfth, which was not great but not terrible. 

the encounter with toto was ever-present, consuming your thoughts whole. part of you wanted to confess the entire situation to james, but you knew that you had to keep it to yourself. this was no time to stir up any drama or rivalry between the two principals. 

you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his hand drifted, how his voice shifted when he spoke to you. it was a far contrast from the way he spoke in interviews or to his drivers. it was rich yet husky, brimming with lust. there were gentle notes inflected in it as well, almost if he was admiring you. it was reminiscent of how one would speak of their favorite piece of artwork, or their most prized possession. 

from his point of view, were you really a prize to be won? were you really that important? or were you the latter?

were you simply a pawn in his game?

the way he looked at you told you a different story. 

there was no calculation. no coldness. there was no trace of the hardened, steely gaze he usually presented to his peers, to journalists, and to the general public. 

there was simply a softness. as if you were one of his weak spots. you could remember him looking at you hungrily, as if he was taking in every single detail of the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. 

since the encounter in your motorhome, you had only bumped into the principal twice. once was on your entrance to the paddocks with james, where you exchanged formal greetings. the other was after the last practice session, where he congratulated you for your time, wishing you luck in qualifying. 

the most odd aspect of it all was that you could count the number of exchanges you had with the principal on your fingers. most of it was formalities, either with the press lurking around, or when you attended events. there were no personal meetings before. it was all business or related to racing. 

so he truly meant it when he had mentioned he had his eye on you for a while. 

the only thing you could remember was an afterparty after the monaco grand prix in 2023. although max had won the race, both lewis and george had placed fourth and fifth. those were significant placements, especially on a track like monaco. you had placed eleventh, which was pretty monumental at the time. 

around four a.m. at the afterparty, toto approached you. his face was flushed, cheeks tinged nearly crimson from the alcohol. the scent lingered on his breath, his hair was tousled, and a sheen of sweat clung to his skin. yet he was still utterly gorgeous, offering you a brilliant smile. 

“i didn’t think the golden girl of formula one would make an appearance!”

“golden girl?” 

“well of course,” he nodded fervently, the words slurred ever so slightly, “you shine like the sun. so that means you’re a golden girl!”

“mr. wolff,” your laughter was like bells, ringing so beautifully in the principals’ ears, “i think you’re pretty drunk.”

“let’s get a drink or two together. then you can really see that i’m not the big bad wolf.” 

you ended up declining his offer, but he didn’t persist, leaving you to join daniel, lando, and oscar on the dancefloor. your heart was racing, and you were sure it had nothing to do with the pounding bass or alcohol consumption. 

it was due to the fact that you had a tiny crush on the principal. 

ever since you had sat behind the wheel of a race car, you were attracted to the principal. in your teenage years, you had dreamed of racing for mercedes, under the wing of toto. you swooned whenever you logged onto tumblr and read fanfics. you were nearly breathless every time you saw him pop up on your youtube feed. 

fuck, even when you watched drive to survive on netflix, you couldn’t help but catch yourself rewinding back to the interviews with toto. 

so when he offered to buy you a drink or two in monaco, you had to bite your tongue to say yes. when he entered your motorhome and had you pinned against the counter, you were a little weak in the knees. when he used little dove or schatz, it did leave your heart skipping a beat. 

since that moment in monaco, things had been strictly professional. now, that line was starting to blur thanks to the motorhome incident. every time you noticed the principal, you could sense the tension in the air. it clouded nearly everything, thick and electric, sending a shiver down your spine every time the two of you locked eyes. 

there was no doubt that the team principal was breathtaking. yet, he was almost thirty years older than you. additionally, you couldn’t help but think about the way the entire formula one world would react the moment they caught wind of mr. wolff and the american girl. the horrible treatment from the media would only skyrocket. 

there was also the other elephant in the room. 

after you asked daniel whether or not there were speculations the two of you were dating, he distanced himself. although he had said no, you couldn’t help but wonder if he wanted the world to think the two of you were together. 

before, the two of you were almost inseparable. after alex, he was the first driver to welcome you to the world of formula one with open arms, often encouraging you, offering advice, and defending your name tirelessly. he was constantly reposting videos of you all over his social media, captioning them along the lines of, “look at my american girl go!” or “go best friend, that’s my best friend!” 

of course, there were little rumors swirling around on social media that the two of you were an item. fans often made edits of the two of you, saying things like, “they’ll never tell us they’re dating but in my head they’re together” or “that aussie boy loves his american girl <3” 

now, you found yourself distracted. too distracted. between the whole toto debacle, questioning your loyalty to williams,  the benefits of joining mercedes, and daniel leaving you out high and dry, you were a mess. 

 a hot mess, at the very least. 

to make matters worse, tomorrow was the biggest race of your season. if not, the biggest race of your life. 

and god only knew what tomorrow was going to bring.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡

thank you so much for reading! let me know if you would like to be tagged! <3 this is going to be a multi-chapter series so buckle up y'all. it's about to get juicy!

[txtaetertots]

meet cute | choi yeonjun

pairing non-idol!yeonjun x gn!reader

wc 4.6k

genre strangers to lovers, fluff, lowkey crack

summary you meet your best friend’s roommate in the most bizarre borderline violating way possible.

warnings crack kinda wack, swearing, mentioned/implied nudity, yeonjun’s an embarrassing mess, suggestive joke at the end oop

notes this has been a wip for a few months now i thought it would be a funny little one shot to write.. i had too much fun writing it i fear pls enjoy 😅

most couples have what they call a meet-cute. in other words, a cute or unique situation in which they met. sometimes they’re quirky and awkward. and the way you and yeonjun met was definitely… something of the sort.

“i feel sticky,” you whined to your friend beomgyu. it was a hot day. there were barely any clouds to spare some shade and the sun seemed to have chosen to beam down especially hard on you. you tried your best to dress appropriately but even if you were naked there would have been no escape from the intensity of this heat.

beomgyu rolled over to his side and propped himself up on his elbow, squinting as he looked up at you sitting up and soaked in sweat. he grimaced, “ew. you look disgusting.”

you shoved his shoulder, causing him to fall flat on his back, inciting a cackle from him. the two of you had been friends for a little over six months. and in these six months, he quickly became your bestest most trusted friend.

the day you met, you had just finished settling into your new apartment and decided it was finally time to explore your new city. but, you failed to take into account your terrible navigation skills. you ended up in a random pc bang after trying to look for somewhere to regroup before trying again to find that restaurant you heard such good things about. you must have looked lost enough because a random boy sat beside you, peering over your shoulder to look at the way your thumbs twiddled on the naver map.

“you know,” the boy started, startling you. you jumped back, scooting away from him and staring at him with wide eyes. “if you want to find the soshi bar, you should try spelling it right.”

he looked at you innocently, sipping his cola. you furrowed your brows before looking back down at your phone, immediately noticing your spelling mistake. you shrunk in embarrassment as you corrected it before thanking him quietly.

“you must be new to the area. are you a tourist?” the boy asked.

“uhm, no. i just moved here a few days ago,” you answered hesitantly.

he smiled brightly, extending his hand out for you to take. “wow, welcome to the city! i’m beomgyu!”

you gave him a friendly smile before taking his hand and introducing yourself back.

you could’ve just left and forgotten him. but, considering you had no friends in the city, you took him up on his offer to show you around. and what ended up blossoming from that chance interaction was a friendship you’d both treasure for years to come.

“wanna go back to my place and wait for the sun to go down a bit before going back home?” beomgyu offered, getting himself up off the grass and dusting his clothes off.

you nodded, holding your hands out, asking him to help you up to your feet. he grabbed your hands and pulled you up with more force than necessary, causing you to stumble as you tried to catch your balance. if there was one thing beomgyu was good at, it was teasing you as if he were your little brother.

his apartment wasn’t very far from the park you two decided to take a break in after shopping together all morning. the walk felt like an eternity though. you could feel the sweat beads pouring down from your forehead and temples, finding their way down your neck to the collar of your tank top. you felt disgusting.

you came upon beomgyu’s complex and were immediately met with a smack of ac. the sensation was so satisfying you let out a contented sigh. but, your sweat began matting, making you feel even stickier than before.

“beomgyu,” you exasperated as you watched him punch in his door code. “is there any way i can shower here? i don’t think i can stand being this gross any longer.”

beomgyu shrugged, opening his door and letting you in. “sure, i don’t mind. i’ll get you a towel.”

it wasn’t your first time at beomgyu’s place. you’ve actually been over quite a few times. but, despite this, you’ve never met his roommate—yeonjun. beomgyu has told you about him a couple of times saying he was more like an older brother than a roommate. he always says how he wants to introduce you two since you’re both important people to him. but, yeonjun seemed to always be at work. according to beomgyu, he worked at a dance studio as an instructor. he was usually there all day. with the way beomgyu spoke so highly of him, you were sure you would like him and get along well. whenever it would be to finally meet this elusive boy.

beomgyu walked you to their linen closet, grabbing a fresh towel for you to use. “you can just use my products,” he offered as he motioned to the bathroom door.

you thanked him and walked into the bathroom, taking note of the blue basket of shower products labeled ‘beomgyu’. you smiled to yourself as you saw the rose and peony-scented soaps he had. no wonder he smelled so nice, you thought to yourself.

while you got yourself situated, beomgyu went back to his room, deciding to kill some time by playing some video games while he waited for his turn to shower. he sat at his pc and put on his headset, settling into his noise-canceling gaming world.

it felt so good to be out of your gross sweat-drenched clothes and under the clean running water. thank your luck you bought clothes you could get away with wearing until you got home. and thank the heavens you had a friend like beomgyu.

unbeknownst to anyone involved, however, this should-have-been refreshing shower was about to turn into the single most embarrassing and honestly violating moment of your life.

yeonjun was sloppily running up the stairs to his shared apartment with beomgyu. he really had to use the bathroom.

the ac unit at the dance studio stopped working, so they had to close down for the rest of the day much to yeonjun’s disappointment. he was already out of the subway when the urge hit him. he really had to piss. thank god he was just a few minutes away from his apartment.

he inputted the door code and rushed inside, not bothering to check if beomgyu was home. but, he assumed he was upon walking up to the bathroom and hearing the shower running. normal people would stay out of the bathroom when it’s already occupied, but beomgyu and yeonjun only had one bathroom. they had the agreement that it was okay for each other to walk in when needed if either one was showering or brushing their teeth. the only exception was if someone had to take a number two. that could wait until the bathroom was vacant and free of victims. but, yeonjun just had to pee, so it was fine.

the door was locked, which was unusual considering their agreement and should have raised some flags. but yeonjun just shrugged, easily unlocking it with a swift turn of the exterior locking mechanism with his thumbnail. when he swung the door open, he was met with an ear-bursting scream.

you were rinsing beomgyu’s apple-scented shampoo out of your hair when you began hearing noises outside the door. first, it was the sound of the front door opening and closing. then, it was hurried footsteps coming toward the bathroom. finally, it was the sound of the doorknob unlocking and turning. you peered around the curtain when the door swung open, eyes meeting with the man who had his hand on the knob and the color drained from his face. you screamed, clenching the curtain to hide what you could of your naked body.

“get OUT!”

yeonjun froze in place for a few seconds, trying to process what was happening. he stumbled with the door, forcefully slamming it shut. he turned around and leaned his back against the door, eyes still wide and mouth agape. what the fuck.

“what the hell is going on?!” beomgyu exclaimed, running out of his room and to the scene of the crime.

his face fell when he saw yeonjun against the bathroom door clenching his chest and face bright red. the shower stopped running and he could hear you fumbling around. when the puzzle pieces began coming together, beomgyu turned to yeonjun and glared.

“yeonjun, you perv!” he accused.

yeonjun shook his head furiously, taking awkward steps towards beomgyu. he moved his mouth but no words were coming out. of the thousands of thoughts running through his mind at this very moment, all he could say were splutters of sounds and exasperated breaths.

the bathroom door slowly came open, revealing you with the towel wrapped firmly around your figure and your clothes gripped in your arms. beomgyu looked in your direction, eyes sorry. but, yeonjun turned his back, not wanting to make you more violated than you probably already felt. you hurried to beomgyu’s room to change into some of the clothes you bought and get yourself out of this situation as quickly as you possibly could.

beomgyu turned back to yeonjun, crossing his arms and scowling. “mind explaining what you were doing walking in on yn showering?”

yeonjun’s eyes widened again. yn? as in the new friend beomgyu had been gushing to him about for months? the friend he swore up and down yeonjun would probably get along with really well.

“i thought it was you!” yeonjun finally managed to spat.

“you didn’t notice the smaller shoes by the entrance?!” beomgyu pointed.

“i had to piss, gyu! all i had on my mind was getting to the toilet in time!” yeonjun threw his hands up to his hair, clenching a fist full in each and letting out an embarrassed whine. “why didn’t you text me about bringing your friend over?!”

“how was i supposed to know you were leaving the studio early!?”

as the two continued to argue, you paced in beomgyu’s room and bit at your thumb. so, that’s yeonjun.

this wasn’t exactly how any of you planned to introduce yourselves. you’re just grateful the shower curtain saved you from exposing anything to him. still, it was humiliating and terrifying to be walked in on while in such a vulnerable position.

“yn? are you decent?” you heard beomgyu through the door. you cleared your throat, trying to collect yourself before answering with a yes.

the door opened cautiously, beomgyu slowly peering inside and walking in. he looked at you with an apologetic face, opening his arms for you to find comfort in his embrace. you smiled, making your way to him and wrapping your arms around his waist as he wrapped his around your shoulders. he rubbed your back, apologizing you were put in such an unfortunate situation.

“i’m okay, beom. i don’t think he saw anything. besides, it was a misunderstanding,” you reassured. you weren’t mad. it was just startling. and, you were certain yeonjun didn’t have any malicious intent when he barged in on you naked in the shower. as odd as that sounds to say.

you and beomgyu walked out of his room and met with yeonjun who was sprawled on the couch face down.

“hey, pervert,” beomgyu whistled, knocking on yeonjun’s head to prompt him to get up.

“i’m not a pervert!” yeonjun cried, lifting his head. when he looked up, his eyes met with you smiling down at him trying to stifle a laugh after seeing him so sulky. he gasped, falling off the couch in an attempt to get up. the thud caused you and beomgyu to erupt into laughter, watching the taller and older boy try to collect himself.

yeonjun stood up, shoulders stiff as he held his breath. he tried his best to avoid looking at you too long, choosing to stare at the ceiling instead. he was afraid if he looked at you he’d start imagining you the way you looked in the shower. the mere thought of that made his face flush a bright red again.

“yeonjun.. is it?” you asked, walking towards him little by little. he nodded, still insisting on looking everywhere but at you.

“i’m not upset at you for walking in on me anymore,” you comforted. “it was an honest mistake.”

your tone was so reassuring and gentle. he expected you to give him a piece of your mind (and he wouldn’t have been mad about it). he thought he deserved to get yelled at, but you were so understanding and kind. it made him relax a little. yeonjun released his breath, warily turning his attention to you.

once his gaze landed on you, he felt like he was knocked off his feet. his mouth fell slightly agape, face heating up as he admired the beautiful smile painted over your plush lips. your eyes were so kind, giving him a sense of relief.

“i hope i didn’t scar you back there,” you giggled lightheartedly, trying to brighten his mood.

he shook his head, eyes wide and still glued to your face. “no way! you’re gorgeous!”

the moment those words spilled out of his mouth his hand jolted up and slapped over his lips. you were taken aback but immediately fell into a fit of giggles. beomgyu joined you in laughter, absolutely amused by how clumsily yeonjun was behaving. he’s never seen him so flustered.

“i am so sorry,” yeonjun said, shoulders stiffening again. “i swear i didn’t see anything! i don’t know why i said that.”

you shook your head. “no need to apologize! if it makes you feel any better, i think you’re pretty cute yourself.”

none of this was making him feel better.

yeonjun was so embarrassed and hearing you call him ‘cute’ just made him want to crawl into a hole. just when he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, he practically violated his roommate’s new friend. and, to make that even worse, you seemed to be having fun teasing him about it.

“i’m gonna go now,” he quickly excused himself and ran to lock himself in his room.

you and beomgyu could hear him cursing himself and whining as soon as he closed the door. it was amusing, you’ll admit. but, it also made you feel bad for teasing him. he was clearly full of guilt and incredibly apologetic for the incident. beomgyu hadn’t given him a heads up that there was a guest and he obviously was experiencing a bathroom emergency. you understood him and decided to give him a pass this one time, especially because there was no real harm done besides startling you. as quickly as he intruded he left.

yeonjun didn’t dare step foot outside that room until he was sure you were gone. he paced around, debating whether six hours was long enough of a wait before attempting to crack open his door and check if the coast was clear. he walked up to his door carefully, pressing his ear against it, and held his breath, trying to hear if there were any signs of life besides beomgyu. not a single peep. he opened his door slowly, trying not to catch anyone’s attention in case you were still there.

just when he thought he was safe to come out, beomgyu jumped out from the blindspot of his door. yeonjun let out a scream, hands jolting up to his chest and clutching his shirt. beomgyu began laughing, taking enjoyment out of scaring the easily startled yeonjun.

“beomgyu, what the hell!?” yeonjun yelled, his fear quickly replaced with aggravation.

“sorry, it’s just too easy,” beomgyu teased, trying to suppress his laughter.

“did yn leave?” yeonjun asked, relaxing his arms.

“they left hours ago,” beomgyu informed.

“why didn’t you tell me!?”

“i wanted to see how long you’d keep yourself locked up,” beomgyu shrugged, walking back toward the kitchen.

yeonjun followed him, annoyed but relieved. he took a seat at their dinner table, finally able to relax a little bit and eat something. he didn’t know how much longer he could go listening to his stomach growl. beomgyu rustled around their cabinets and fridge, shaking his head and clicking his tongue.

“we need to do some grocery shopping,” beomgyu announced, shutting the fridge and grabbing his phone out of his back pocket. “wanna order takeout tonight?”

yeonjun nodded in agreement. beomgyu took a seat across from him at the table as he placed an order for their favorite restaurant through an app. yeonjun’s leg bounced as he watched beomgyu place the order, hands clasped together over his chin. the silence between them was making him think and he needed answers before his thoughts ate him alive.

“is yn really okay after what happened?!” he blurted, face twisting into displeasure.

he just couldn’t shake it off. no matter what you said earlier, he felt like he had to do something to make it up to you. it didn’t feel right having you forgive him so easily.

“yeah, they said no harm no foul,” beomgyu replied, eyes never leaving his screen.

yeonjun shook his head. he couldn’t accept it. “but, i say yes harm yes foul!”

beomgyu paused his tapping and looked up from his phone with an amused smile on his face. he raised an eyebrow upon seeing how guilt-ridden yeonjun still was. beomgyu admitted it was kind of a messed up situation, but you insisted that everything was okay.

“what do you want to do then? make it up to them somehow?” beomgyu asked.

“i have to,” yeonjun pleaded. “it’s eating me alive how humiliating that was, gyu.”

beomgyu sighed, tapping a couple more times on his phone before shutting it off and putting it face down on the table. he straightened up, folding his arms over the table, and gave yeonjun his undivided attention.

“okay,” he started. “what do you want to do?”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

it was a ridiculous idea, but beomgyu would be lying if he said he didn’t want to see yeonjun go through with it. he thought it was a bit extreme, but yeonjun insisted that it was the only way to match up with the situation he accidentally put you in. it made him wonder why yeonjun was putting in this much effort, but the look on yeonjun’s face when he saw you walking up to them gave him the clearest answer.

beomgyu had texted you asking you to meet them at the park by his apartment. something about yeonjun had gone nuts and you needed to be there or else his feelings would never recover. it was weird and cryptic, but it was beomgyu, so you didn’t question it. though, that didn’t stop your confusion as you spotted the two standing and anxiously looking around. as soon as yeonjun spotted you, he smiled brightly and began taking deep breaths to prepare himself.

“hey, guys? what’s going on?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed as you got a better look at yeonjun’s attire.

beomgyu pointed at yeonjun, a smirk on his face knowing what was about to happen next.

yeonjun sighed, “i had to make it up to you somehow for what happened. and this is what i came up with.”

suddenly, yeonjun removed his sweater and sweatpants, revealing himself wearing a rather small pair of brightly colored swim trunks. your hand slapped over your mouth, watching as he rushed to the center of the walkway where buskers usually set up. he yelled trying to grab everyone’s attention, and once he got it, he pointed at beomgyu as a cue. beomgyu had his phone in hand and a small portable speaker in the other. as soon as he got the cue, he pressed play on his phone and music began playing through the speaker.

park patrons watched in amusement, some laughing and others rather appalled at yeonjun’s act. he was dancing and singing to ‘happiness’ by h.o.t, and rather terribly so. he was out of breath, purposefully exaggerating his moves and singing. despite everyone watching, his attention was only on you. watching intently how you were reacting and whether you were watching him at all. and how could you not? it was impossible to look away, you almost didn’t notice beomgyu on the ground holding his stomach from laughing so hard.

three minutes felt like an eternity in this moment, and when they were finally over, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were keeping in. yeonjun stood in his ending pose for a few seconds, dripping in sweat, skin flushed red, and heaving begging for air. his audience cheered, laughing as he took his bow and rushed back to you and beomgyu. you were speechless as he grabbed his things, slapped beomgyu’s leg prompting him to hurry, and grabbed your hand before running back toward the direction of their apartment.

people on the street stared as you three rushed by and into the apartment building. beomgyu was still in a fit of giggles as you rushed up the stairs and finally into their unit. you stood quietly by the foyer, watching as yeonjun took a moment to catch his breath and beomgyu lay on the couch trying to stop his giggles as he replayed the performance in his head.

“what the hell just happened?” you finally asked, thoughts slowly coming together.

yeonjun stood up straight, still in just his swim trunks. he took one last deep breath, standing before you with his head held high.

“i put myself in a vulnerable, humiliating position to make you feel better for accidentally putting you in one, too,” he proclaimed. “i hope now you can forgive me and feel better about what happened. i’m sorry.”

you stood with your mouth slightly agape, slowly beginning to laugh. beomgyu erupted into laughter again watching you. the embarrassment finally began to settle in for yeonjun, his arms crossing over his bare torso and face turning hot. you sighed, an endeared smile taking over your lips as you reached behind him and grabbed his sweater off the couch. you held it out for him to take, earning a small smile of gratitude from him.

“yeonjun,” you began. “you didn’t have to do all that. i promise everything was fine.”

you paused for a moment, watching the way his lips began to pout. the doe-eyed expression on his face made your chest twist. god, he’s so cute.

“but,” you continued. “i really appreciate you for wanting to make it up to me.”

yeonjun finally smiled, happy to hear you accepted his gesture. you pushed him to go get himself washed up and comfortable while you dealt with beomgyu, who was clutching his stomach in pain.

you plopped beside him, sighing as he sat up and winced. “my abs are on fire.”

“that’s what you get for not talking him out of that!” you scolded.

“i tried to!” beomgyu retorted. “but he was dead set on it. honestly, i think he has a little crush on you.”

beomgyu laid back down continuing to massage his stomach, not thinking twice about what he said. his words were echoing over and over in your head, though. yeonjun has a crush on me? you thought. you bit your bottom lip, hiding the smile threatening to reveal your excitement over that revelation. 

yeonjun walked back into the living room, changed and freshly showered. beomgyu got up, excusing himself to the bathroom to look through their medicine cabinet for a topical pain reliever to massage over his ribs. yeonjun decided to take a seat next to you, finally feeling more relaxed to be near you. but, because he was able to actually look at you, he noticed the way you tensed up as soon as he took a seat beside you. worry began to cloud his thoughts.

“yn? are you sure you’re okay? you seem tense,” he asked, cautiously giving you space in case you were uncomfortable.

you shook your head, placing your hand on yeonjun’s shoulder for reassurance.

“i’m fine, yeonjun! i promise!”

“then, why are you so tense? do i make you uncomfortable? do you not want me here without beomgyu?”

he kept shooting questions at you, wanting to do whatever he could to make sure you felt comfortable and safe around him. you kept insisting that everything was fine and that he didn’t do anything wrong. he wasn’t buying any of it though and begged you to tell him what was wrong.

“you’re gonna laugh,” you warned. “beomgyu said you have a little crush on me.”

yeonjun fell silent for a moment, eyes widened. you stared at him, anxiously waiting for him to respond. an awkward laugh broke his silence, his fingers fidgeting with the drawstring of his sweatpants.

“he said that?” he asked, eyes wandering around the room.

there it was again. he was avoiding making any contact with you. you slowly scooted closer to him, making him freeze.

“well, do you?”

“do i what?”

“do you have a crush on me?”

yeonjun paused, looking at you for a brief moment before straight ahead at the powerless television screen in front of you. he cleared his throat before cautiously answering.

“i mean, i do find you… attractive,” he said. “so… what if i do?”

you smiled, finding his nervous mannerisms cute. 

“would it make you feel better if i told you i had a little crush on you, too?”

yeonjun snapped his head to look at you so quickly you could’ve sworn he got whiplash. his eyes were wide, nostrils flared in bewilderment. he didn’t even try to hide the smile creeping up on his face. he didn’t want to admit it to beomgyu then, but he was smitten from the moment he saw you. your smile, your laugh, your eyes. everything about you was so… pretty. so, so pretty. and it was killing him knowing he might have ruined any chance he had at getting to know you properly because of the incident. who would want to get to know the person who walked in on them in the shower?! even if it was an accident. but, hearing you say you took just as much interest in him as he did you, made him overjoyed. 

“wait, really?” he asked, almost as if it were too good to be true.

“i told you i thought you were cute, didn’t i?” you reminded.

“so, does that mean, if i asked you out, you would say yes?”

you shrugged. “i don’t know. try.”

he laughed, beginning to find your teasing somewhat entertaining.

“yn,” he said, his shoulders relaxed and his voice calm. “would you do me the pleasure of going on a date with me?”

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

you loved to reminisce about that moment, even though yeonjun would prefer if you didn’t remind him. it’s been a year, but no matter how long it’s been he will never get over the embarrassment that memory gives him. he still wished you two met in a better manner, one that made him look cool. but, you wouldn’t trade that moment for anything. you don’t think it could’ve gone any other way that would have made him appear more charming than that.

“you know,” you said, playing with his hand as you lay in bed together. “you could have just gotten me an ‘i’m sorry i almost saw you naked’ cake and we could’ve called it even.”

“baby,” yeonjun deadpanned, hand gently rubbing your back. “i was desperate and irrational. it was all i could think of at the time!”

you giggled, nuzzling into his neck and wrapping your arm around his torso. he was still as endearing as ever.

“we’ve come a long way since then,” he said. you hummed in response, closing your eyes as you allowed yourself to begin drifting to sleep.

“because i’m allowed to see you naked now,” he added quickly, suppressing his giggles as you playfully slapped his chest.

endearing and annoying as ever.

© txtaetertots

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

since it's pride month, i want to highlight my favorite underrated/underappreciated queer characters and ships! (part 1/???)

(feel free to add more!)

Lake - Infinity Train (non-canon)

it's not canon but you cannot tell me that Lake isn't an allegory for trans/nb people. her arc is so beautiful and her character resonates with me so much!

i have to admit, i actually kinda hated her in the beginning because of how aggressive and rude she was, but she actually gets good character development and you can also understand why she was the way she was, being a good representation of a minority who is constantly suffering because of the social norms she’s forced into. also i don’t ship her with jesse but i do like the idea of them in a qpr or just being platonic besties.

(i use she/her pronouns for Lake because that's what they use in the series, but also because not all non-binary people use they/them, and it's kinda weird to see people insist on using they/them for Lake just because she's nb-coded. she has never shown an aversion to bring referred to with she/her pronouns.)

Le Chevre x El Topo - Carmen Sandiego (canon)

they are side characters who don't play a huge role in the narrative but they are a really cute couple and have been confirmed to be canon! even without the confirmation, it’s clear that they were written to be a romantic couple.

mild spoiler: after the series ends, they stop being antagonists and instead put up a food truck together! it’s the cutest thing, i swear

Ryan x Min-gi - Infinity Train (non-canon)

my OTP through and through! i say non-canon but the romance is so heavily implied, you cannot ignore it.

they're a good example of childhood friends who had a complicated relationship where both individuals did something wrong, but in the end, they grow as people and manage to mend their relationship together.

Moomin x Snufkin - Moominvalley (canon)

i have only read one of the books and watched a few clips of these two characters but from that alone, it's clear that they were written as lovers (and the author is queer too!)

they are a beautiful portrayal of long-distance relationship where both individuals have different needs in life, but still want to be with each other regardless.

Terrestrius / Terry - The Dragon Prince (canon)

Terry is canonically transmasc and they actually manage to explain this in the series, without making it sound too forced or expository. he's such a sweetheart too, and his relationship with Claudia is actually really sweet, despite the fact that she's one of the villains.

Carmen x Julia - Carmen Sandiego (non-canon)

again, i say non-canon but it is heavily implied that they have feelings for each other, especially in the extra interactive episode, where Carmen leaves a bouquet of red roses for Julia, and Julia is shown to blush when receiving them.

Amaya x Janai - The Dragon Prince (canon)

what’s that? it’s actually possible to write an enemies to lovers romance that is healthy and not extremely abusive?

Amaya and Janai have such a good relationship in S5 (and Amaya is also a great disabled representation!) Janai actually learns sign language to communicate with Amaya, and there are no unnecessary miscommunication plots or drama, they’re just a really loving wlw couple.

Benson x Troy - Kipo and the Age of Wonderbeasts (canon)

when i say we need more mlm ships in animated media!! i’m so glad us sapphics are getting a lot of representation but it’s time cartoons started including more queer men.

benson and troy are just a really sweet couple with a good relationship that doesn’t have a ton of pining or unnecessary angst. while i love complex and tragic queer relationships, i also think that it’s good to show teenagers just being teenagers sometimes.

this opinion seems to be scarce in the queer community, which really annoys me tbh.

Raine x Eda - The Owl House (canon)

i cannot believe that given the popularity of TOH, Raeda is still such an overlooked ship. this might be an unpopular opinion but Raeda is better written and has more chemistry than Lumity and Huntlow.

just within the span of Raine's introductory episode, they managed to establish a clearly romantic past between these two characters, and also an interesting dynamic. and even though they didn't have much screentime, they still turned out to be the best ship in the series. (again, just my opinion, don't come at me)

i think it's so important to show older queer people in media, just as it is important to show younger queer characters. it helps establish the fact that queerness has always existed and isn't some newfound trend that social media invented. not to mention, raeda is one of the very few canon ships that include a non-binary character.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LNDS Xavier: Pinned Up (18+)

This fic is an amalgamation of like three different inspirational outlets, okay. I didn't want to write this. I was forced to. First freaking @nati-cutie-patootie was like "Hey, this song is so Xavier, right?", then the Xavier brainrot began. Then I woke up and saw THIS POST by @ellereath and was like "Well I'm a writer and I was already planning on doing something for Xavier so why not?" but then I saw THE IMAGE that they linked to and anyway there is no space in heaven for me because I am an irredeemable whore who can only sin...so anyway enjoy the smut!

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Reader implied having breasts, Gender Neutral Terms but AFAB anatomy, Wall Sex, Oral (Receiving), Multiple Orgasms, Creampie, Unsafe Sex, Squirting Synopsis: You couldn't help but stare at your boyfriend, whether it was when you two worked out or just at home. How someone so sweet and soft looking could be so strong was a mystery to you, but you certainly wouldn't complain when he lifts you up and pins you to a wall with ease. Word Count: 4.8k

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

Pinned Up (18+) Xavier x Reader

You sighed, wiping your brow with the towel you had wrapped around your neck. The cool breeze cooled off your overheated skin as you turned to Xavier. He looked to be perfectly fine as he also wiped down his own brow.

You both had only done a light workout, one of those that you don’t sweat too much during it, but it takes forever for your body to cool down afterwards. It didn’t help that you two had to walk a mile to the apartments since the gym at your complex was closed down for maintenance.

“How you feelin?” You asked, breaking the silence between the two of you. Xavier, who had been focused on just making it home, turned to you with a soft smile.

“I’m a bit tired, but it’s not too bad.” He admitted and you couldn’t help but chuckle. When wasn’t this man tired, after all? It was one of those things you had found particularly endearing, especially because you knew if you ever wanted to take a nap, he wouldn’t judge you and join you in the activity.

You finally arrived at the complex, both of you groggily getting into the elevator. Xavier put in his floor number and you smiled, knowing it was a subtle invitation for you to join him. After a few minutes the door finally opened to his floor and you both got out. You trailed after Xavier as he unlocked the door, opening it and letting you go inside first.

You knew his apartment like it was your own with how often you came over. After taking off your shoes you walked over to the kitchen, standing on your toes to reach one of the higher shelves to grab the cups. You filled it with ice cold water and you silently sat on the bar stool; you slid Xavier a glass of water while you sipped on your own.

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you enjoyed the refreshing drink gliding down your throat. That was until you turned over to Xavier. He had made it into the kitchen and grabbed the water you had prepared for him.

He greedily drank from the cup, finishing it almost in one go. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, and how some of the water crept down the side of his mouth and dripped down onto his chest. He was still covered in a subtle sheen of sweat that you wanted to lick off of him.

Xavier stopped as he finished his glass, noticing your stare and he shot you an almost knowing smile. He always seemed so innocent that you sometimes forgot that he was a wolf in a bunny disguise. The things he’s not only done to you, but has said to you were now clouding your mind as you bit your lip and tried focusing on something else.

“Something on your mind?” Xavier said, using his arm to wipe away the bit of water that had escaped.

You cleared your throat, avoiding eye contact with the man, “Ya, I’m totally fine.” You took another sip of the water and tried getting your head out of the gutter. Your muscles were already protesting, it was best to not poke at the beast and have him fold you like a pretzel. 

Xavier walked over to where you were, placing his cup in the sink. He made sure to subtly graze your arm as he did so, looking over to gauge your reaction. 

You couldn’t help the involuntary shiver running down your spine. You swore his libido was rubbing off on you somehow. He managed to always rile you up way too easily and you were in a  constant state of wanting him to be buried in you. 

You tried distracting yourself, knowing that Xavier always had an assortment of snacks at the ready since he was so used to you being here (not to mention the man could eat). You stood up, looking around the pantry. Xavier’s gaze followed your form the entire time, his eyes half lidded as he gave a lazy smile at seeing how comfortable you were at his place.

It wasn’t hard to find something appealing in his pantry since he always kept your tastes in mind. A box of chocolate pocky sticks stood out and you happily took them; you opened the box and placed one of the sticks in your mouth with a satisfied hum.

As you walked back over to Xavier you couldn’t help but think of that one incident on the bus when you two went on vacation. The way he had subtly kissed you in public when you two hadn’t even started dating yet had made your heart flutter. It was around that time you had sworn you’d confess your feelings, because being with him like that had been torture. You had wanted to drag him into another kiss that day…but that was all in the past as you stared over at your cute boyfriend.

Xavier noticed the snack in your hand, taking one of the sticks and started to nibble on it. You seemed to have cooled off as you looked over at Xavier again, the content look on his face as he enjoyed the sweet treat.

“Since you’re here, would you like to borrow the shower?” He asked, glancing over at you once he noticed you staring at him again.

“Yes please…do I still have a change of clothes here?” You asked, taking another pocky stick in your mouth as you leaned over the counter.

“I think so, but if not you can just borrow some of my clothes.” He said with a shrug and you smiled.

“Sounds good to me.” You paused for a moment, “I’ll shower after I rest a bit though. I don’t want to make the commitment yet.” Even if the thought of a shower was tempting, you knew if you hopped in like this, you might not want to get out.

“We could always watch a movie together.” Xavier commented and you shook your head.

“No way, we’re all sweaty and stinky from working out, I don’t want to rub it off on the couch.” You said and Xavier stared at you with the most confused look in the world.

“But we’ve sweat on the couch before…?” You almost choked on your pocky at his blunt response. You slowly looked at him and then huffed a bit. He then walked over to where you were relaxing on the counter. He leaned his body over you, pressing his nose against your neck and smelling, “And you certainly don’t stink right now.”

You let out a small squeak as you leaned away from him, “Hey, hey, hey!” You said, pushing his face away from you as he chuckled, “You can’t do that to me right after I work out!” You whined, but couldn’t help the chuckle coming from you as well.

“I’m telling you, we both stink from sweating.” You claimed then stopped at your sudden realization. He had been really close to you a moment before and you didn’t notice any smell from him. There was no way…you turned around, grabbing his wrist and pulling him closer to you as you did exactly what he had done moments ago. Your nose pressed against his neck as you sniffed.

He had the slightest musky smell, but overall he smelled like fresh spring water, linen, and a hint of birch. Just like he always did, the scent calming you like a pavlovian response as you blinked. 

“Oh this is unfair…” You grumbled, “You still smell like you’re fresh out of the shower.” You complained and Xavier chuckled, placing his hand against your hip.

“And I’m telling you that you smell fine, so let’s go relax on the couch.” Xavier said, tugging at your tank top as he tried getting you to come with him. You knew the moment you two were on the couch he was probably going to pass right out.

You hum as though thinking over your decisions before smiling, “Nope!” You said, popping the ‘p’. You grab another pocky stick and put it in your mouth then place the box down. Perhaps you should just take a quick shower and then cuddle with him on the couch; that seemed like the best compromise.

You start walking off, but Xavier’s grip on your hip tightened as he spun your body around until you were chest to chest with him. He leaned in, grabbing the end of your pocky stick and nibbling on it until your lips met in a sweet and short kiss.

You couldn’t help the small smile spreading across your face as he pressed against your lips again in a series of soft kisses. Xavier brought a hand up to adjust the angle of your face to where he wanted it, intent on enjoying this moment to the fullest.

You lean back, but Xavier was quick to pull you closer and finally pressed his lips back to yours with a purpose. His lips molded with yours perfectly and you could feel him nibbling on your lower lip, his warm hand going under your shirt to caress the skin there.

You open your mouth for him, tasting the sweet pocky that lingered there as he tilted your head. Your hands grasped at his shirt, dragging him into you as he grabbed you until your pelvis was pressed against his. You groaned into his mouth, loving how just his kisses could get your entire body feeling light.

When Xavier finally parts from your lips he can’t help but press his forehead against yours, painting slightly, “Maybe we should save that shower for later?” He said, implying what was to come.

You chuckle and lean up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Is this why you wanted to drag me to the couch?” You asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes. His brilliant blue eyes sparkled with mischief and the smirk he wore sent a shiver down your spine.

“It hadn’t been the initial intention.” He said, going to place a kiss on your cheek, moving down your jaw and then your neck, “But I started to think about how you were looking at me earlier and figured you wouldn’t mind.” He said, nipping at your exposed neck. You let out a small gasp, your hands grasping the fabric of his shirt.

“Oh, so you noticed that?” You chuckled as his hands played with the band of your shorts. He was leaving wet kisses along the column of your neck and right behind your ear, and once again you felt a small nibble but this time it was on your ear.

“How could I not? First at the gym, and then when I was drinking water. It’s pretty obvious what was going through that pretty head of yours.” He said, nuzzling his face into you. You chuckled, “Now can I please take these off?”

One of your hands went over to his shoulder, while the other began threading through his hair, “Go right ahead.” You said, giving him the permission he was waiting for. He wasted no time, pulling your tight shorts and underwear off, letting them pool around your ankles. You stepped out of them, kicking the articles of clothing to some random corner of the apartment.

Xaviers fingers slowly pressed against your slick folds, feeling how wet you had gotten just from kissing him. You groaned, feeling one of his fingers easily slipping into your heat without an ounce of resistance.

“All this from just watching me?” Xavier murmured, adding another finger and curling them. You gasped, feeling him hitting your sweet spot. Xavier knew how to play your body so easily that he could make you cum within minutes of toying with your body.

“Only for you, Xav.” You whispered, spreading your legs a bit to give him a better angle. Xavier groaned at your words, using his free hand to cup your face and dragging you in for another heated kiss. His tongue played against your own and you whimpered, feeling his fingers were intent on making you cum all over them.

“Fuck…” Xavier can’t help but groan, his fingers leaving you for a moment. You let out a whimper at the loss of something inside you. His hands wrapped around your thighs as he hoisted you up. Your legs immediately went to hook around his torso. Your pelvis pressed right against his and you groaned at feeling his cock straining in his pants.

It was effortless on his part as he casually walked over to a wall, pressing your back against it and rutting his hips up into yours. You gasped at feeling how he ground into you, your walls clenching around nothing and you were tugging at his shirt, “Xav…” You whined his name out and he chuckled.

“I know, my star, but I need to do something first.” Xavier said as he seemed to struggle for a moment to stop grinding against you. You just felt so good against him even with a layer of fabric blocking him from you. Your cunt soaked into the fabric of his pants and he could feel every twitch of your pussy through them.

You let out a startled gasp as he managed to hoist you up higher, adjusting your legs until your legs were hooked around his shoulders, his hands firmly holding you up by your ass. He gave the flesh a teasing squeeze as he looked up at you.

He began peppering kisses along your thighs, enjoying how your thighs tensed for a moment under every small touch on his lips, “Xav, what are you planning?” It was damn obvious what he wanted, but you couldn’t help but flush at the thought.

“I just want a small taste.” Xavier said, his lips slowly trailing closer to your folds. You groaned, pushing his head away from you with a blush coating your cheeks and neck.

“N-not without a shower first, geez.” You said, but Xavier was on a mission. He looked up at you, utilizing his puppy eyes and making you groan in annoyance. You tried not looking at him, but he gave your ass another firm squeeze and your eyes snapped down.

You swore those sapphire eyes should be illegal. Just that look was enough to get you to fold every time…sometimes literally. You looked away again with a small pout before admitting defeat.

“F-fine…but I warned you…” You murmured, feeling positively embarrassed at your current position. However, that was all Xavier needed to hear as his tongue left his pink lips, slowly licking up your sopping cunt.

You let out a groan, your hand threading into his hair and tugging a bit as his tongue began working its magic on you. He really did know how to unravel you as his tongue went into your tight heat, curling up. His nose brushed up against your clit as he enthusiastically ate you out. The obscene wet noises made you close your eyes and bite your lip.

His mouth went to suck on your clit, making you moan loudly and your grip on his hair tightened. You could feel him groaning against you as your hips rolled into his face. He grabbed your ass, giving it a tight squeeze as he dragged you in impossibly closer, loving how you began grinding in earnest on his face.

Your thighs began shaking and you knew you were close with that familiar coiling in your stomach, “F-fuck Xa-Xavier!” You managed to squeak out, “C-close.” You said, before the tension inside of you snapped.

Your thighs clamping down on his head as you rode his face, loving how his tongue fucked you through the entire thing. He couldn’t help but watch you the entire time, your facial expression as you used his face for your own pleasure made his cock twitch.

After you rode it out, his tongue just made lazy circles around your clit until you were flinching away and relaxing your thighs so his head was no longer in a vice grip. You were panting as you stared down at him.

Xavier parted from your folds, your release dripping down from his chin as he licked his lips and smirked at you, “Thanks for the meal.” He said, pressing another kiss against your thigh. You flushed, looking away and covering your mouth with your hand. He chuckled at the bashful look you had as he readjusted you again.

It was too easy for him to lift you off his shoulders and place you back against the wall with your legs securely around his torso. He began leaving kisses along your face, rolling his hips back up against you. Despite having just comed, you groaned and rolled in time with him.

Your hand trailed between your bodies, pushing down his pants until his cock was free. The head was a bright red with precum dribbling from the tip freely. You used it to help lube up your grasp, giving him a few strokes and making his groan as he rolled in time with your hand.

You couldn’t help but lick your lips at the thought of having his length down your throat. While he didn’t taste like candy, he had this certain, subtle taste that you could only describe as Xavier. You craved it and Xavier easily caught how your pink tongue darted out of your mouth as you looked down at his cock.

He leaned against you, his mouth against your ear, “You can suck it some other time, my star, for now I need to be inside you.” He said, making you shiver from the proximity. 

You let out a small whine of disappointment as he shifted you. You grasped his cock and lined it up with your pussy, groaning as he rutted his hips against your slick folds and bumping against your sensitive clit.

“Wouldn’t this be easier if we were on a couch?” You asked, worried about his arms. You knew he was strong, hell him casually lifting you up and down was testament to that, but you didn’t want him to tire out.

“Aren’t you the one who claimed we were too ‘stinky’ to lay on the couch?” He teased, pressing a kiss behind your ear, “Besides, our workout today was too light. I didn’t work on my arms at all.”

You chuckled despite feeling his blunt cock head pressing into your opening. Your chuckled slowly turned into a drawn out moan as he slipped inch by inch into your core. You could feel every bit of him, the one vein on the underside of his cock grazing against your walls and driving you insane.

He was guiding your hips onto him until you were finally settled fully on his cock, your pelvis flush against his own. He gave you a moment to adjust to his girth, taking his time to mark up your neck properly while you gripped at his shirt.

“Starlight?” Xavier murmured after a moment. You hummed in response, feeling how his cock twitched in response to just your voice, “Take your shirt off for me, please.” He said and you nodded.

He lifted his head, watching as your hands went under the edge of your tank top as you slowly took it off. You tossed it across the room before doing the same with your sports bra. The moment your chest was free, Xavier’s cock strained inside of you again. You groaned, rolling your hips on him and he bit back a groan of his own.

At the angle he was at, he could really only stare at your chest, so you decide to tease him. You leaned your back against the wall fully as your hands went up to cup your breasts, squeezing them together as you pinched your nipples.

Xavier groaned, finally thrusting up into you at seeing how you played with your own breasts. You gasped, your arms going around his shoulders quickly so you wouldn’t feel like you’re about to fall off him.

Your body was still leaned back so Xavier could watch how your breasts bounced with every thrust up into you. He couldn’t decide where he wanted to look. His eyes going to your face, your breasts, then finally where you two were connected. Your eyes trailed over his form, whimpering as your hands tugged at his sports tank.

“X-Xav…” You grumbled, wanting to feel his skin fully on you. Your hands tugging some more before wandering underneath to feel his hot skin. His abs flexed under your touch and you began rolling your hips with him.

“S-sorry Bunny, but I can’t take it off right now. Just bear with me.” Xavier grunted at seeing how upset you were about not being able to see him fully. If he went to take it off it would mean he’d have to set you down, and he didn’t want to be apart for even a moment. Not with how your hot walls seemed to suck him in.

You stopped putting up a fight, your hands moving to grab onto his exposed biceps as he began bouncing you on his cock. You were moaning without reservation; the sound of skin on skin slapping almost drowning it out. 

You felt Xavier pull his cock out until just the head remained before slamming back up into you. Your nails dug into his biceps at the sensation as you let out a high pitched mewl, leaning back into his body. He groaned at feeling how tightly your pussy clenched as he repeated the motion, angling his hips until he was slamming right into your sweet spot.

You could feel yourself being built up again, that tight and uncomfortable coil in your stomach threatening to burst at any moment. It didn’t help that you were angled just right so every thrust had your clit grinding against him.

Xavier could feel how your walls pulsed around his length as he leaned over, “Go on, starlight, cum on my cock for me. Can you do that, beautiful?” He asked, not letting up his pace as he brutally abused your sweet spot like his life depended on it.

You felt that euphoric coil snap as your entire body tingled as you came, your walls becoming like a vice grip on Xavier’s length to the point where he could barely pump his cock in you. Your nails dug angry crescent shapes into his arms, stinging him and making Xavier groan. 

He continued fucking into you, his grip on your thighs just a bit tighter as he guided your cunt on him repeatidly. You were coming down from your high, already feeling another wash of arousal coursing through you.

You gasped, placing your head in the crook of his neck as you laid sloppy, wet kisses on anything you could reach, panting his name right on his shoulder.

Xavier’s dick twitched in response to hearing your wanton moans right up against his ear, “Just a little bit more, my star, almost there.” He grunted out, his hips rolling into yours until he could pick up his pace again.

You felt so overstimulated, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let him use your body like a toy. You leaned back against the wall again, your body bouncing delicious to every thrust of his. Xavier watched where he entered you, a creamy white ring forming around the base of his cock as evidence of your release.

He groaned, “Where can I cum, starlight?” He said, not even knowing if he’d have the strength to pull out at this point.

Your entire body was buzzing and you could barely hear him with the blood rushing in your ears, “I-inside please, fuck Xav so close.” You murmured, your words coming out slurred as you felt a different tension in you. It wasn’t how you normally felt when you came and you squeezed your eyes, the pleasure getting to almost be too much.

Xavier let out an almost guttural growl as he bucked his hips into yours a few more times, his cock twitching with every rope of cum he shot into your tight heat. It was too much for you, your walls clamping down again as warm tears fell down your cheeks.

This time you felt a rush leave you, liquid squirting out of your cunt as you soaked his abs and lap in your juices. Xavier just watched, absolutely mesmerized by your release, his eyes widening as he continued pumping into you a few more times until he could see your legs shaking and you began mumbling something about it being too much.

He pulled out of you slowly, your combined release dripping onto his pants and the floor as he grabbed your legs tighter once he realized they were going slack. He leaned in, peppering kisses all over your face and neck.

“Did so good for my, my star, my galaxy, my love.” Xavier said, helping you come down from your high. You didn’t even realize the tears that had come out as you stared at him with glassy eyes.

“How are you feeling?” He asked once you started to look a bit more coherent. You murmured something, leaning in to nuzzle against his neck.

“M’fine…” You said, letting out a yawn. You felt absolutely spent and Xavier chuckled. You felt the cool wall leaving you as he began walking. You could hear him kicking off his pants that had probably been falling off his hips midway through your session.

You flinched at the fluorescent light as he flicked the switch on in the bathroom. He sat at the edge of the tub, turning on the water and feeling it to make sure it was the perfect temperature. You felt content, resting in his lap as the rushing water wanted to lull you off to sleep.

“Hey, come on, wake up. I don’t need you drowning in the bath.” Xavier teased, his soft voice wasn’t helping but you did open your eyes to look at him. You felt your breath being taken away at the look in his eyes, it was such a soft gaze that you knew was reserved just for you.

“Not gonna drown.” You said with a small pout and Xavier couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him as he leaned in and gave you a quick kiss. You instinctively went to follow his mouth and he shook his head.

“Careful, I don’t know if you could handle another round if you get me riled up.” He said, a hand going to cup your cheek and wipe away the dried tears there. You were still pouting so he sighed, leaning in to kiss your forehead.

“You’re joining me in the bath so it’s not like we have to worry about me drowning either way.” You pointed out to him.

“Who said I’d be joining you?” He couldn’t help but tease you. You just seemed so adorable at the moment.

“I did, obviously.” You said, then you tugged at his shirt, “Can we finally take this off?” You asked, noticing the bottom edge seemed to be absolutely soaked.

“That seems like a good idea.” Xavier said, going to take it off of him. You easily balanced on his leg as he ripped the sports tank off and threw it over to the laundry basket he kept in the bathroom. You looked down to see the thin happy trail he had was also soaked and you gave him a confused look. You two had fucked a lot, and you hadn’t seen his pelvis this wet before.

“Why are you dripping?” You said, glancing at the droplets glistening off his abs.

Xavier smirked, “You don’t remember squirting all over me?” He asked, his innocent demeanor was crushed by his words. How someone could look like an angel while saying that was a mystery.

As his words settled in you felt embarrassed, your hand going to cover your mouth, “Say sike.” You finally uttered.

“It’s the truth, Starshine.” He teased, “I’ll have to figure out how to recreate it another time so you can remember.” You groaned in despair and looked away.

“Can we forget that ever happened?” You murmured.

“No can do, it’s engraved in my mind. I won’t bring it up though if you’d prefer.” He said and you huffed before pushing him a bit towards the tub.

“Fine…now let’s get cleaned off…and then watch a movie on the couch.” Those demands seemed good with Xavier as he dragged you into the warm water below, content to have you snuggled against his chest as he worked on getting you both cleaned.

[lov3-from-loserlane]

I recently got into the Our Life games and have especially loved the Now and Forever demo so I made 2 MCs to play the game as 😆

The first is Meygan LaRosa, The Fashionista from the Vista. Originally from Chula Vista, California, Meygan had always been regarded as a somewhat weird girl who didn’t exactly fit in. Her demeanor and sense of humor was something most kids found off putting, so she’s always struggled to make friends. That is until moving to Golden Grove. Her and Qiu instantly get along and Meygan is thankful for that. At first, she just wants to be popular like them. But later, the two grow to have a sibling-like relationship. On the other hand, Meygan quickly develops a crush on Tamarack and the feelings confuse her. Due to this, she pushes Tamarack away through most of their childhood, treating her coldly. The two go on to reconnect in their late teens.

Meygan’s biggest interests are in art and fashion, and she hopes to one day become a fashion designer <3

The second is Luca Montoya, The Jester from the Pasture. Originally from Alma, Colorado, Luca had always been a fairly sociable and easygoing kid, but never knew how to surround himself with the right crowd. His past group of friends were pretty bad and nasty kids which lead to Luca himself having quite a rebellious personality. Upon moving to Golden Grove and for most of his childhood, Luca is enamored with Tamarack, finding her to be beautiful. He tries to impress her, even picking up the guitar in order to do so since she’s into music. But he later discovers that he’s truly passionate about music and creative writing himself. Luca and Qiu connect early on and become best friends, becoming especially close during their cynical teenage phase. They start to develop more complex feelings for one another, which Luca tries to ignore by throwing himself full force into his feelings for Tamarack. The two don’t address it until their late teens, their relationship likely suffers through a few rough patches because of that.

Of course since the full game isn’t out everything is subject to change, but I’m having fun with these little ideas in my head 😆

(Bonus)

I TRIED MY BEST‼️

[eddiesxangel]

Take Me to the Lakes | E.M x reader part 5/6

Summary: This summer was supposed to be the summer to work at your favourite place in the world with your best friend. But things take a turn when it isn’t your best friend you end up working with.

Master list

cw: angst, dirty smut and more angst. 3.9k words

You’ve been grappling with yourself for days. The emotional turmoil is akin to a never-ending struggle. You are torn between two opposing forces—one driven by love, passion and desire to be with Eddie while the other grounded in reality. You know that leaving this idyllic bubble of happiness will mean facing the challenges and complexities of real life, which is causing you mental and emotional anguish.

You do, in fact, love Eddie. You have ever since you laid eyes on him. Even back then, pure infatuation turned into lust, which in turn made you fall in love with him all the same. This makes this decision that much more difficult to swallow. Your pride and reputation meant everything to you, but how could your two worlds coexist? 

You played along, pretending to ignore your worries when you were around Eddie. You wanted to take advantage of all the time you had left before summer ended. Only a few more weeks, time was running out, yet it stood still when you were with Eddie. Eddie made you feel safe and wanted. Eddie makes you feel alive and free. You always felt a sense of calm whenever you were with Eddie. There was something about him that made you feel like you could be your true self around him without any fear of judgment. You never had to put on a façade or pretend to be someone you're not. 

Eddie was your well-needed reminder that you don't have to be perfect to be loved and accepted. He appreciated you for who you were, flaws and all. Being with him was a source of comfort and reassurance you could always count on.

No matter how much you try to push it away, that little warning bell in your mind keeps ringing. It reminds you of all the things that could go wrong. It's like a constant companion that never leaves your side, always lurking in the back of your mind. 

The fear of the unknown was overwhelming and paralyzing at times, especially at night when you were alone with your thoughts, making you feel helpless and trapped.

With Eddie, you felt like you could let your guard down and be yourself. Eddie was also judged and tried; he was nothing of the man everyone blamed him for being, but you were only you; you couldn’t make the town see him for who he truly was. Or maybe you could? But the burden would be too much, ruining the status you’ve built up your whole life. Was it worth the risk? You know Eddie would risk it all for you, but deep down, you wouldn’t be able to do it for him…

—

Today, you were on Field duty with Robin, Ashton and Eddie. Not much had happened besides the four of you supervising the soccer game between your groups. So when you and Eddie asked them to cover for you for about twenty minutes, they reluctantly agreed. 

You and Eddie snuck off to the barn because you were running out of places to have sex. The cabin was mysteriously boarded up the last time you tried sneaking off, so you needed to get creative. 

“You’re always so horny” You giggle as he grabs your ass.

“It’s not that I’m horny…you’re just that sexy, I can’t help myself.” 

“Shut up and kiss me,” You giggle. 

Eddie presses you up against the raw wooded planks of the barn wall. It was stuffy and hot in there, but you only cared about Eddie. Eddie made you feel alive, wanted, and protected. You wanted him to feel the same. All thoughts are thrown out the window. You don’t worry about getting caught; you don’t worry about life after camp; your entire being is absorbed by thoughts of Eddie.

“I want you in my mouth.” You moan as Eddie kisses you deeply. You’ve made it to the barn and pulled him into a dark corner. 

“You wanna get on your knees for me, Princess?”

“Mmmmmmm,” you drop down, quickly taking off the tiny green gym shorts of the camp uniform. 

You could smell Eddie when you pulled down his shorts; the pheromones made your head spin. Sure, it was hot and sticky, but you needed Eddie's sweaty balls in your face. The stench of the barn didn’t even phase you as your mouth watered for him.

“Sucha’ good girl, f’me,” He praised as you took his hard cock in your mouth. Slowly, you swirl your tongue around the deep pink head before taking more of him in your mouth. 

You pine for his affection, his touch, but mostly his words. 

You and Eddie discovered you were both pretty nasty when it came to fucking one another. Eddie loved that you could keep up with him and his dirty fantasies. 

“You always wanna be a good girl for me, don’t ya, princess.” 

“Yes, Daddy.” You say before going back onto his throbbing cock.

Eddie’s head falls back as your lips latch back onto his leaking cock.

“Fuck that’s good” Eddie slowly thrusts his hips into your mouth so his cock hits the back of your throat. “You’re perfect, Y/N.” 

Hearing him say your name makes you pine even more; the butterflies it gives you only makes you want to be all that much better for him, to him. 

“Thank you, Daddy,” You hum, pulling away to work his cock with your hand. 

Eddie can’t hold off any longer. You didn’t have much time, and someone might walk in any second. 

Without warning, Eddie quickly stands you up and walks you over to the back wall. You let out a small whimper because you aren’t done yet.

“You were being such a good girl, don’t make me punish you.” He growls low in your ear. “You want your little cunt fucked, or not? Want daddy to make you feel good?”

You nod your head silently. 

“I know, baby girl, you just need your little pussy to be played with, huh. Is that it?” He caressed your cheek before manhandling you onto the hay bail in the corner of the barn. 

You squeak when Eddie flips you and covers your mouth with his large hand to keep you quiet. 

“Shhh, we can’t have anyone walking in now, can we?: 

You silently shake your head no, and Eddie's hand falls from your mouth to grip the fat of your ass. 

“I want to do bad things to you,” He growls. 

“So do them” You push your ass into him.

“I’ve been waiting for this all day,” He tugs on your cotton shorts. 

“You’re not wearing any underwear?” 

“Better for you, no?” You smirk.

A low curse leaves Eddie's throat before his hands dip lower.

“You always get this wet from sucking my cock?”Eddie glides his hands along your wet folds. “Yes, Daddy,” you gasp as his fingers make contact. 

A loud screech is heard in the distance, probably a camper playing tag, but you and Eddie freeze. You both are brought back to reality; you don’t have any more time to waste. 

“I want your cock inside me, please” You reach as you look back over your shoulder to kiss him. 

“We might get caught.” 

“Good, then everyone will know I’m yours,” you smirk.

“You freaky little minx” Eddie slides his cock between your soaked folds before slowly pushing his way inside. Inch by inch, he stretches you out. 

Even though you’ve been fucking like rabbits, your body still needs time to adjust to its size. 

“You okay, baby?” 

You bite back hiss; it burns so good. 

“Yeah, just give me a minute. 

“Don’t think we have a minute, Princess.”  

“What? You going to blow your load already” You giggle, only making your already tight puss get tighter around eddies cock. 

“No, we are running out of time; Birdie and Rooster will kill us if we don’t hurry.” 

“Fine, then fuck me like you mean it.” 

The brush of Eddie’s thick cock on your inner walls was something you would never get used to. He would make you forget about everything and everyone that wasn’t solely him. Not your life outside the camp, not the pressures you felt of being perfect, not the way you are made out to be the Princess of Hawkins and certainly not the weight you felt in your chest when you think of life with Eddie after summer is over. 

All those hours you spent dreaming about being with Eddie, you never thought it would come to fruition, so you never thought about the consequences if it did happen. Now that you’ve claimed you both have claimed each other as their own, you’re struggling with what to do once you return to the real world. 

Would your parents accept him? No. You knew for a fact that they worked hard to get you where you are today, and they would never understand how loving Eddie makes any sense.

But none of that mattered right now; none of that even crossed your mind because Eddie had a way of making you feel like you were floating on a cloud of euphoria. 

“You still with me, Princess?” 

“Mmmhhmm,” you bite down to keep from moaning. 

“You know I love those sounds you make, baby, but we gotta stay quiet. 

“I’m so close, baby, please.” 

Eddie came to know your body almost as well as you did. He knew you needed extra attention to help you get over the edge, so he reached down to work your clit with his rough, calloused fingertips.

“Shit, baby, you’re so close. I can feel your pretty little pussy squeezing my cock so good.” 

“Please,” You beg as you grab Eddie’s wrist to brace yourself for your orgasm. 

“Come for Daddy.” His breath brushes past your ear, and you melt under his grasp. Your body quivers as your pussy clenches, and your brain spits out endorphins through your body. 

Eddie’s not far behind; the grip in which you clamped down on him was so delicious he couldn’t help it. Without thinking, he came inside of you, making sure all of it was pushed up far inside. 

“Did you just?” You ask breathlessly. 

“Fucking take it” He thrust every last bit of his seed into your pussy. 

“Eddie,” You whined. 

“What baby girl?” 

“I—I��m going to be all messy; I don’t even have panties…” you can already feel it dripping out of you. 

“Good. I want you to be thinking about me for the rest of the day.” 

You want to wipe that cocky smirk off his face. You would have to walk around with a puddle at the bottom of your shorts… 

“There you guys are!” It’s been like thirty minutes, so let's go!” Robin scolded, and you hiked up your shorts around your ankles. 

You hear a “gross” as she walks away, and you and Eddie can't help but laugh. 

“I’m so done covering for you guys; this is getting way out of hand.” Robin said as Eddie rejoined his campers and Ashton by the creek.

“Birdie, I’m sorry, we got carried away.”

“You always get carried away.” She rolls her eyes. 

She was right. Your relationship with Eddie was distracting you from your responsibilities.

“I’m sorry, I promise. We won’t sneak off again. I owe you so many times. Whatever you need, I got it.” 

Her facial expressions soften. “Fine. Only if you really do promise me?” 

“Cross my heart.” 

“What about lover boy?” 

“I also promise he won’t do anything to misbehave.” You smirk “during camp hours.” 

“You think we have time to stop by the cabin quickly before dinner?” You mumble. 

“Yeah why?” She glanced at her watch 

“Uh… I need to change my shorts. 

“Ugh gross, ”

—

As the weeks passed, your and Eddie’s relationship became more serious. He would like to take you on dates after hours. Even if nothing was around, he thought of ways to get creative. Much of it involved stealing from the kitchen and borrowing the projector from the supply cabinet for movie nights, but none of that mattered to you. What mattered was that he put in an effort you could only dream about. 

Last night, you snuck off to his van. There was a mattress, blankets, and some pillows. Eddie insisted you sleep together all night and set an extra early alarm so no one would notice you’re not in the cabin. 

It was risky, but you caved. How could you say no when he whispered sweet nothings into your ear while also telling you what exactly he would do to you in the privacy of his van? Eddie had a way of getting you to do anything, not that you minded. The last thing you wanted was to get into trouble, but you wanted to sleep next to him. To feel his body next to yours, to hold you. 

As you awaken from a deep slumber, you feel surprisingly well-rested. You slowly open your eyes and squint as the sun's bright light peeks through the van's windows, illuminating the small space. You realize that you're tangled in the sheets with Eddie, and a wave of happiness washes over you. As you take in the sight of him sound asleep beside you, you can't help but smile.

However, your joy is quickly interrupted by the nagging thought of the alarm that was supposed to go off. You push it to the back of your mind and take a moment to appreciate this peaceful, intimate moment with Eddie. You know that time is running out, and you must make the most of the time you have left together before it inevitably comes to an end.

You've realized that this time together is incredibly precious and fleeting. The pressures of reality are beginning to weigh heavily on you, and you understand that things won't always be this easy once you return home. With only two weeks of summer left, it's important to treasure every moment together.

You hear your name being yelled out in the distance, and you panic.  snap up quickly, reaching for Eddie's writs to see it is already 9:45 am. You’re supposed to be on the clock. 

“Get up, oh my god.” You find your shirt and pants while Eddie stirs.

“Baby, get up! We are late!” You shake him some more, and Eddie snaps awake. 

“What?? what?!”

"It’s almost ten we slept in!” You yell, throwing his shirt at him. 

“Bambi?!” You hear your name yelled along with Eddies. 

“Fuck” you’re freaking out as you scrambled out of the van, Eddie following close behind you. 

When you stepped out, Billy was there. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” He smirks.

“Billy, please, don’t say anything.” You beg.

You knew Billy had not gotten over things. He would still comment when Eddie wasn’t around; he tried more than once to get you to come with him instead of Eddie. 

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s already camp hours; everyone has been looking for the two of you, and it seems you’ve been fornicating on Camp Murdock’s dime.” 

“Billy.” You warn. 

“What’s happening?” Eddie joins you once he is fully dressed. 

“You tell me? You and you’re little whore here—“

Billy didn’t get to finish before Eddie charged at him. He tackled him to the ground. You scream for him to stop, and you beg as you watch the two men roll around in the dirt, watching their fists make contact with one another’s faces. 

Your screams must have been heard because Robin and Steve came rushing over, along with a few others, including Carol.

“Please stop! Eddie, baby, please, he isn’t worth it!” You cry. 

You watch Steve and Ashton pull the two men apart, holding them back. 

“What on earth is going on here!” Carol yells once the commotion stops. 

“I don’t know, boss? You tell me,” Billy smirks. “Found these two playing hooky, and the next thing I know, I’m the one getting sucker punched.” 

“You little—“ 

“Stop,” Carol cuts off Eddie before he can continue. “Is that true?” Carol turns to you with a look of disappointment in her eye.

“Not—No, not exactly… our alarm didn’t go off, and we accidentally slept in…” You look down ashamed. 

“Our?” She raises a brow to you. 

“Uh— mine and Eddie’s…”

“How exactly did that happen?

“We didn’t sleep in our cabins,” you mumble, embarrassed that you were dumb enough to risk this. 

“I’m very disappointed in you Y/N.”

“I’m so sorry; it will never happen again,” You try to speak, holding back your tears.

“You’re right; it won’t happen again because you, gentleman…” you watch as she turns to Eddie and Billy, “Are you going home.” 

“What?!” They say in unison. 

“You can’t seem to be civil; we can make do with only a week and a half left.” 

“But Carol—“

“That’s final!” She turns to you. 

“As for you, young lady, I’ll give you a warning… I like you, Y/N, and seeing as your little boyfriend is leaving, I would like to think the tardiness will correct itself.” 

“Yes, Ma’am.” You bow your head in shame. 

This was not like you; you don’t break the rules, you don’t disappoint people, and you definitely do not get into trouble. 

“I don’t want to waste any more time. Get back to work...and boys, pack your things. I want you out by lunch."

—

You rush over to Robin to return to your campers, whom Nancy and Cassie are looking after. 

“Girl, what happened.” Robin looks at you worried. 

“We slept in; Billy found us in the van and called me… it doesn’t matter— and Eddie attacked him.”  You sniffle. 

Robin hugged you and tried her best to comfort you, but it was useless. Everything was ruined. 

You went through the motions the rest of the morning until lunch. You decided not to eat so you could say goodbye to Eddie. 

Billy had already packed up and left while Eddie brought his stuff to the parking lot. 

“Baby,” you whisper, trying not to startle him as you walk up to him from behind. 

“Hey.” He sounded annoyed. 

“I’m sorry, I tried to tell you we would get in trouble, but I—“

“I get it, it’s my fault, and now I’m being punished. It is what it is.” He flung the duffle into the mattress where he made love to you the night before. 

“Eddie, listen to me,” you beg.

“What?” He snaps at you. 

“Oh my god, this is exactly why we can’t be together when we go home. You’re too unpredictable, and your temper is too hot.” You snap back at him.

"What do you mean we can’t be together when we go home?” His face fell. 

“I—I”

“You were planning on breaking up with me when summer was over?! Was that it? Perfect little Princess can’t be seen with the town freak! God forbid I taint your reputation.”

“Eddie—wait.” 

“So what was your plan exactly? Make me fall for you just so you can rip my heart out? You’re sick, y/n.”

“No— please let me explain!”

“I care for you, don’t you get that!

“And I don’t!? God, Eddie, I’ve been in love with you since I was sixteen.”

"If you told me that yesterday, I would have believed you… but now…. I feel like I don't even know who you are." 

"Believe me, please.” You beg, “I love you."

“Then act like it!”

“I can’t, don’t you get it? I can’t be me at home. Have you ever seen me like this in Hawkins?” You pause for his response, but he stays quiet. 

“Exactly, no. and there is a reason for that!”

“This isn’t high school anymore; the world is much bigger than Hawkins. You can be whoever you want. You don't have to please mommy and daddy anymore.” 

“I can’t”

“Why? Give me one good reason.”

“I—I—just…I can’t.” You really couldn’t. Eddie was right, but you were so scared. You were a coward. 

“Fine, I’ll save you the trouble. We are done. That’s what you wanted. You’ll return to your perfect life and move on without me.” 

“Eddie, please,” You cried. Tears were blurring your vision as you watched him get into the van. 

None of this was supposed to happen this summer. You were supposed to be with Ashley, getting over Eddie Munson and not falling more and more deeply in love with him, only to break your own heart. 

You made a terrible mistake.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. I have a long trip ahead of me.” he slams the door shut. 

“Baby, please,” you grabbed his door handle to open it, but it was already locked. 

“Let go.” He tells you when he rolls down the window. 

“Can’t we talk about this? Please, you need to understand,” You begged. 

“No, I understand it perfectly, baby; you don’t want me.” 

“Baby, please, I am so sorry. I love you. I didn't mean it!” You cry. 

You cry and cry, and Eddie can no longer watch. He is hurt, he is broken, and he can’t watch you sob any longer, so he puts the car in drive. He didn’t believe you when those three words fell from your lips.

You froze as Eddie drove off without so much as a goodbye. This was not how you wanted things to end. You didn’t want things to end. Eddie was the best thing to happen to you. You needed him in your life. You could not go through life without him now that you’ve had a little slice of heaven with him this summer.  You fucked up; you fucked up badly and needed to fix things. 

tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths @siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie @seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @rowanswriting @snowflowersstars246 @micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @ezzynf @oneforthemunny @brxkenartt @ktiutsa @sofiaadela @guineveresghost @nabiiturner @eddiesguitarskills @comeonatmebruh @sky-full-0f-fl0wers

[tinyundercover]

pepper & felix

part thirteen

:))))))) cw: excessive alcohol consumption word count: 4.1k

MASTERPOST

Pepper did not understand alcohol.

He was aware that humans drank it, but he was appalled as to why. In the last few years he had run into his fair share of humans that seemed to be overcome by the effects of alcohol, pink-faced and dizzy and loud, and he had always avoided them. Why would humans do this to themselves?

He and Basil had grown up in a bakery, surrounded by warmth and sugar, so Pepper hadn’t been exposed to alcohol until he moved out at the age of nineteen. After two weeks of traveling, he had found his first home– a small house occupied by a middle-aged human couple. It had been frightening to live somewhere entirely new, but it had turned out to be a comfortable home for him.

For two years, he had observed the human couple, and had been confused by their occasional consumption of alcohol. Once, after running across some leftover liquor in a glass, he had even tried a sip. His curiosity had left him choking and spluttering and absolutely revolted by the humans’ drink. His confusion had only increased.

After the humans had noticed their things going missing and had begun to set out mouse traps, Pepper had been forced to leave their house and search for a new home. He had made his way into an apartment complex around the time he turned twenty-one years old, and had built a new home within the walls of an introverted, blonde human, who Pepper pleasantly noticed very rarely drank alcohol.

Now, he stood on the arm of the human’s couch, staring up at said human in front of him. 

“I thought you didn’t like parties,” he pointed out, brow furrowing. 

Felix sighed, features soft. “I don’t, not really,” he admitted, leaning down to see Pepper better. “But I kind of have to go to this one.”

“Why?” Pepper asked incredulously.

“I dunno… it’s a cast party, so it would be a little rude for me not to show up, I guess. I already told everyone I would go.”

Pepper shook his head, astounded. He couldn’t imagine attending any kind of party, especially one he didn’t want to go to. As far as he knew, human parties consisted of large groups of humans getting together to be incredibly loud and take up space. It sounded awful.

“I’m only gonna go for a little bit,” Felix continued, gaze dancing over Pepper’s uneasy form. It was hard to tell why Pepper was so uncomfortable with this. 

To be honest, Pepper wasn’t sure why he was so nervous, either. Looking up at Felix, taking in the entirety of the human’s tall and imposing form, his stomach fluttered. Felix, surely, would be able to take care of himself in the presence of so many other humans. Pepper shouldn’t worry.

Pepper nodded slowly, crossing his arms. “Alright.”

“It’ll be okay,” Felix promised, straightening up. He wore a baggy graphic tee and blue jeans, reminding Pepper that this was a comfortable, casual event for the human. The borrower forced himself to take a deep breath and nodded again.

“Right,” he agreed unhappily. “I’ll see you later.”

However, as listened to the sound of the front door closing moments later, he couldn’t fight the feeling that something awful was bound to happen.

–

Forty people was a lot to fit into Ricky’s small apartment.

Felix weaved his way through the crowd in the kitchen, gaze searching, feeling incredibly out of place. Every so often someone would stop him to say hi, only to abandon the conversation a moment later, making Felix wonder how useless his social skills could be. Relief filled his chest when he spotted Breanna and Owen, chatting by the wall, and he gratefully walked over to them. “Hey.”

“Felix!” Breanna lit up instantly. “I was wondering when you’d get here.”

Felix checked his phone, sheepishly observing the fact that he was over an hour late. He had stalled by talking to Pepper for far too long. “Is Alice here?”

Owen took a sip of his drink, because unlike Felix and Breanna, he was happy to have a few drinks when they went to parties. “Yeah, somewhere.”

“What are you doing here?”

Owen grinned. “I like parties.”

Felix let out a breathy laugh. Despite the fact that Owen wasn’t in the cast, it was nice to see a familiar face. Owen had accompanied his three friends to so many theater events that he might as well be considered an honorary theater member at this point.

The next twenty minutes were bearable, as Felix lingered by the wall with his friends. Music filled the air, blasting from a speaker, so Felix was forced to lean in close to his friends to even hear them properly. 

When Alice approached them, Felix almost forgot the weird situation the two of them were currently in, more relieved to have another face he recognized as a friend. Her black hair had been pulled into a slicked-back ponytail, revealing the sharpness of her expression as she glanced over Felix. A red solo cup was held in her hand. “Hey, Felix.”

“Hey.” Felix opened his mouth, but found himself at a loss for words, hesitantly turning away from Alice to listen in on Breanna and Owen’s conversation. The tension in the air suddenly filled his lungs.

The past week of rehearsals had been uncomfortable, to say the least. Felix and Alice didn’t say much to each other, both of them gravitating towards Breanna as their closest friend. Felix didn’t know what to do, or how to repair his relationship with Alice.

Were they fighting? He thought that they had cleared things up, but Alice’s lingering frowns and cold eyes made him feel like they weren’t past the borrower situation. He wanted to bring it up to her, but he was terrified of somehow betraying the borrowers, or rubbing salt into the freshly opened wound of his and Alice’s relationship. He didn’t know what to do.

“Rehearsals have been crazy, huh?” Alice remarked suddenly.

Felix met her gaze, peering intently. “Yeah,” he agreed after a moment, grateful that Alice had broken the tension first. “Yeah, how have you been holding up?”

Alice laughed, then took a long sip of her drink. Felix vaguely noticed the pink twinge in her cheeks. “If Mrs. Shelton makes us run the ballroom dance one more time, I’m gonna lose it.”

Felix let out a laugh at that. In rehearsal yesterday, he and Alice had spent hours working on one singular dance scene between Ariel and Eric. It had become exhausting after a while, especially considering the fact that the two of them were barely on speaking terms and had to act like they were madly in love. Being able to laugh about it brought a warm feeling into Felix’s chest. 

After a few minutes, Breanna and Owen tuned into Felix and Alice’s conversation. The four of them together, laughing and comfortable, was something Felix had missed greatly. He hoped that Alice felt the same.

An hour into the party Ricky organized karaoke, which the cast grew ecstatic for. The majority of them crammed into the large space of the living room, and Felix and Alice watched in amusement as Breanna dragged Owen towards a microphone and insisted that he sing a duet with her. 

“Owen should sing more,” Alice commented as the redhead reluctantly began a few rocky notes, grinning at Breanna. “He’s got a good voice.”

Felix hummed in agreement, arms crossing. The pair of them lingered by the door to the kitchen, and after a moment Alice peered into her empty cup. “I’m going to the kitchen,” she decided. “Do you want anything?”

“I don’t really drink.”

“Forgot. Sorry.” Alice shrugged and slipped away.

Felix turned back to Breanna and Owen, who were now belting enthusiastically into their mics. An uncomfortable feeling fixed around Felix’s chest, and he turned and followed Alice into the kitchen.

Alice stood alone by the counter, filling her solo cup from a bowl of spiked punch. She glanced up as Felix approached. “Changed your mind?”

“No, I just… wanted to talk to you,” Felix admitted, leaning against the counter. Alice eyed him, bringing her cup to her lips, expectant. Felix hesitantly continued. “Is everything… okay with us?”

Alice took a few extra seconds to set her cup down, stalling. “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” Felix kept his voice light, raising his eyebrows. Alice’s lips twitched into a smile, then dropped, and she lowered her gaze. “I mean, you’re my closest friend, Alice. I don’t want things to get weird between us just because of one little mistake.”

Alice nodded slowly, continuing to avoid Felix’s gaze. Her fingers drummed over her cup. “I don’t know.”

Felix’s heart fell. “What?”

“I don’t know,” Alice repeated, blue gaze flickering. There was no malice or anger in her quiet voice. At Felix’s startled silence, she continued, turning her body towards him. “I mean, are those… people still in your apartment?”

Felix flushed, glancing away. “Uh… no, no, they’re not.”

Silence stretched between them for a bit too long. Alice’s eyebrows raised pointedly. “They are, aren’t they?”

“No,” Felix insisted lamely. 

Alice remained quiet, taking a sip of her drink, and Felix’s stomach twisted. When she finally spoke, it was to say, “I just… I feel hurt.”

“You… what?”

“I’m hurt. I get it, I made a mistake, but you treated me— you’ve been treating me— like I’m this awful person.” Alice’s voice rose suddenly, the redness of her cheeks growing. “You won’t even look at me in rehearsal.”

A cold, heavy feeling settled into Felix’s chest, and he took a step back. Realization hit him like a truck. “Wait, you…”

All this time, he thought that Alice had been intentionally avoiding him. Had he really been ignoring her so pointedly?

“That’s not true,” Felix began quickly, suddenly desperate to explain himself. “I’m just worried for the borrowers.”

Alice’s lips thinned. “Borrowers?”

Shit. 

“Alice—”

“What are you worried about?” Alice continued, aghast. “What, that I might take them again? Do you think I haven’t learned my lesson?”

The anger in her face fell away as two more people entered the room. Felix and Alice turned sharply towards Breanna and Owen, who immediately pounced on them.

“Did you hear our song?” Breanna pressed excitedly, not catching onto the tension in the air. “Owen fucked up that high note, did you hear that?”

“I did,” Owen insisted, uncharacteristically proud of his singing voice. 

Felix and Alice must have hesitated for a bit too long, because their two friends’ faces immediately dropped, glancing between them.

“Did something happen?” Breanna asked in alarm.

Alice met Felix’s gaze, a glint in her eye. “Why don’t you tell them?” She grumbled, her flush deepening.

The three others jerked back at her hostility. Owen’s eyebrows raised. “Holy shit. What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Felix insisted, heart racing. 

“It’s not nothing,” Alice snapped.

“How much have you had to drink?” Breanna interrupted, dark eyes wide with concern as she glanced over Alice. Her nervous gaze turned to Felix, as if he might answer her question. “Is she okay?”

Alice sucked in a sharp breath, voice tense. “I’m fine. Felix, for the love of god, just tell them.”

“Tell us what?”

“I’m not gonna— Alice, I’m not supposed to tell—”

“What, you don’t trust them, either?” 

Alice’s words made Felix freeze. He blinked rapidly, glancing between his three friends, one of which was glaring menacingly and the other two were uneasily watching. His mouth was dry when he said, “Of course I trust you guys. It’s just… it’s not my secret to tell.”

“Oh, why not?” Alice said exasperatedly, leaning closer. “What do you think is gonna happen?”

For a moment, the only noise in the room was the distant sound of someone singing karaoke, comically juxtaposed to the tension in the kitchen. 

Breanna’s voice was quiet. “Guys, maybe you should get some water, sit down—”

“Felix doesn’t trust us,” Alice decided suddenly, jerking away. “He thinks we might hurt his little friends.”

Panic jumped up into Felix’s throat. “Alice.”

“And I did, but barely, and I said sorry, but he still acts like I—”

“Alice!” Felix interjected, chest tight. “Please.”

Alice stared at him for a moment, face flushed, before she tore away from their group and stormed out the door. Breanna stared at Felix, stunned and unsure, before following after Alice.

Felix and Owen were left alone. Owen’s gaze flickered over Felix, curious, silent.

“Owen,” Felix began weakly. “I…”

His friend only lifted his eyebrows, and Felix faltered, leaning back against the counter and bringing a hand to his forehead. The cold feeling had spread from chest throughout his whole body, leaving him feeling numb and unwell. 

Felix’s hand knocked into a glass bottle. 

Suddenly emboldened by the misery in his chest, Felix turned his head defeatedly. “Let’s do some shots.”

–

The quiet whirr of the AC filled the room as the only background noise. Pepper sat on the back of the couch, absentmindedly stitching up a rip in his jacket, draped over his lap.

After Felix had left, Pepper had chosen to remain seated on the couch, waiting for his friend to return. He didn’t have much to do at his home, and he didn’t see the point of walking all the way back there just yet, since Basil wasn’t there. Yesterday she had expressed her guilt to Pepper that she had been “overstaying her welcome” and “third-wheeling,” and since then she had been exploring the expanse of the apartment building, searching for a nearby place to build a home. 

Pepper was worried for her, but he was confident in her abilities to survive on her own. There was no telling when she might return, considering that she might travel all the way back to her original house to explain everything to the borrower family she lived with. He felt guilty that she had gotten caught up in his strange situation with Felix, leaving her feeling like she needed to give them space but also wanting to stick around and provide emotional support to her brother. Moving into her own place in the apartment building seemed like the best solution for the time being.

A sigh let Pepper’s body, and he dropped back, resting his head on the thick surface of the couch. The ceiling stretched high above him, reminding him just how out of place he was in this massive apartment. He had hoped that by spending time in Felix’s apartment by himself, he would grow more comfortable being in such an open space, but his heart still continued to twist every time he remembered how vulnerable he was, out in the open. 

The sound of the front door opening made Pepper instinctively sit up, clutching his jacket. The panic that shot through his body flickered away as he registered that it could only be Felix, and he relaxed. He busied himself by finishing up the stitching of his jacket as he waited for Felix to enter the living room.

It took a surprisingly long time. Footsteps filled the kitchen, followed by the occasional bump or clatter. Something in the back of Pepper’s mind hummed concerning, but he barely acknowledged it, turning his head as a tall figure finally appeared in the doorway.

Almost immediately, Pepper sensed that something was wrong.

Felix, at his enormous height, appeared to have lost his ability to stand properly. A large hand grasped the door frame in order to hold himself up, and despite this Felix still managed to sway back and forth, body unsteady. Pepper’s skin prickled uneasily. The blonde hair atop Felix’s head was slightly disheveled, as if he had just rolled out of bed, and even from across the room Pepper could see the glassiness of his half-lidded eyes as they searched the room.

Pepper’s breath hitched, coldness swarming his chest. He suddenly found that he was frozen, completely isolated on top of the couch. Vulnerability struck him like lightning, and with a dry mouth he shoved his jacket aside, pulling himself to his feet. 

That turned out to be the wrong thing to do. Felix’s gaze was tugged towards Pepper’s movement, and when the human’s eyes finally landed on him Pepper’s instincts all but screamed in his mind.

He didn’t understand what the hell was wrong with Felix, but he didn’t want to stick around and find out.

Felix didn’t seem to notice the way Pepper’s face had gone pale. The human positively lit up at the sight of the borrower, standing frozen on the back of the couch. “Pepper.”

The borrower’s jaw tightened, unable to pull his gaze away from the unsettling sight of his friend. His breath hitched when Felix suddenly approached, stumbling but still much too fast for comfort, and the borrower backed up as much as he could without tumbling off the couch.

“Felix, wha—!” Alarms shrieked in Pepper’s mind at the sight of two massive, foreboding hands reaching for him, and before he could even think to run he was being swept up into a grip far more powerful than he could ever hope to be. “Hey!”

His heart raced in panic. Felix’s unusually clumsy fingers somehow managed to be both too tight and not tight enough, and Pepper gasped, latching onto the fingers around him lest he fall through. The sudden terror that gripped his throat was suffocating.

For the first time since their first meeting, Felix had picked Pepper up without warning. 

“Look at you,” Felix cooed, words slurring. The pink of his cheeks was much more visible from so close, rosy and warm. “You’re so cute.”

Pepper’s breath shuddered, gray eyes wide and startled. Felix was holding him close to his face, closer than he ever had before, allowing the scent of alcohol to hit the borrower and bring the realization crashing down that Felix was drunk.

Hot panic filled Pepper’s chest as he searched Felix’s soft, glassy blue eyes. His lack of experience with alcohol had not prepared him for anything like this. He barely even understood its purpose or effects, let alone how to deal with a giant who was so incredibly drunk he had forgotten how to hold a borrower properly.

Pepper swallowed thickly, heels sliding on Felix’s palm. Felix’s forefinger and thumb were tight around Pepper’s torso, bunching the borrower’s shirt up uncomfortably. His gaze wandered Felix’s face, at an absolute loss of what to do.

“Felix,” Pepper said slowly, carefully. Fear crept up into his throat. “Felix, put me down.”

He couldn’t tell if Felix was listening, or if he could even understand him. He was answered by a sudden punch of vertigo, the air rushing up around him, drawing an exclamation from his chest. “Ah!”

Felix had collapsed onto the couch, knocking the wind out of Pepper’s lungs. The borrower gasped for breath, squirming in Felix’s grip, gaze dancing as he searched for some sort of escape route.

“I missed you,” Felix announced, haphazardly ruffling Pepper’s hair with a finger. The borrower jerked away, startled. “The party— the party wasn’t good.”

Felix spoke as if the words weren’t fitting properly in his mouth, unusual and misshapen. 

“Felix,” Pepper said again, breaths quick and uneven. How long did it take for alcohol to wear off? He had no idea. “You should— put— put me down.”

“I don’t want to,” Felix responded, warm and bright. The words made Pepper’s blood run cold. “You’re— I want… you’re my soulmate.”

“I— I know—” Pepper shivered, pushing anxiously at the fingers around him. He couldn’t handle such close proximity to Felix’s face and his large, warm fingers overwhelming him. They usually were so gentle. 

Felix wasn’t hurting him, but there was a distinct lack of care in the way he was handling Pepper, clumsily and oppressive. Pepper didn’t think that Felix would hurt him intentionally, but the idea that he might accidentally be harmed was very, very prominent in his mind.

“You’re my soulmate and you’re tiny,” Felix suddenly giggled, poking at Pepper’s trembling chest. 

Before Pepper could process what was happening, Felix lost his balance and fell to the side. Pepper yelped, tumbling onto the soft cushion of the couch, catching his breath only when Felix had propped himself up on his elbows, gaze bleary.

The realization that Felix was now hovering over Pepper, shoulders large and towering, sent Pepper’s panic skyrocketing all over again. The borrower scrambled back until he bumped into the arm of the couch.

“Oh,” Felix said, as if he only just realized that he had collapsed. His forearms trapped Pepper into a box, and he blinked several times as he processed the borrower standing only a few inches in front of his face. “Be careful.”

With the massive hands next to him, and the arm of the couch behind him, Pepper had nowhere to go. His lips tightened, processing Felix’s words. “Felix?”

“You’re… little,” Felix hiccuped, moving his hands to cradle Pepper from behind. “You could get hurt.”

Pepper took a moment to steady his breathing, glancing at the hands behind him. “I’m fine. I’m fine, Felix, just don’t—”

In one quick movement, Felix swept Pepper into his palm. He leaned forward, and suddenly he was pressing his soft lips into Pepper’s chest in a big, clumsy kiss.

Shock exploded into Pepper’s heart. The heat that radiated from Felix was overwhelming, enveloping the borrower in fire. The lips against Pepper’s body were soft but so underlyingly powerful, and all he could think about was how close he was to a giant’s mouth and how easily said giant could trap him between his teeth without a second’s thought.

The light pressure vanished as Felix pulled away, then erupted into a fit of giggles, so uncharacteristic for him. Pepper blinked up at him, face scarlet.

“I kissed you,” Felix whispered teasingly, as if he was sharing a secret.

Embarrassment crept into Pepper’s face, growing even hotter. He slowly straightened up, examining Felix’s face. “You— you should go to bed,” he forced out, voice wobbling. 

Thankfully, Felix actually seemed to register what he was saying, and he nodded. His large, clumsy hands tightened around Pepper, securing him as he pulled himself to his feet, leaving the borrower gasping for a few seconds.

Pepper only realized what was happening when Felix made his way over to his bedroom, the borrower held against his chest. “Hang on,” he called, heart racing. “Wait. You don’t need to take me with you.”

Pepper rarely ever entered Felix’s bedroom. Not only was there nothing of use in here that he couldn't find in the living room, but it just felt like an invasion of privacy, even before he had become friends with Felix. He felt guilty being in here while Felix was under the influence and clearly not entirely aware of what was happening.

“Oh— wait, waitwaitwait—”

Felix unceremoniously flopped down onto his bed, cradling Pepper against him and knocking the wind out of the borrower. The world spun for a moment, and Pepper took a deep breath, blinking up at the ceiling. The ground below him was soft and warm. 

“Goodnight, Pepper,” Felix said with a yawn.

His voice had floated from somewhere above Pepper’s head, making the borrower freeze and register exactly where he was.

The soft fabric of Felix’s shirt. The distant heartbeat. The gentle sway of enormous breaths.

Pepper was sprawled out on Felix’s chest, enveloped by a hand larger than himself. The panic that had spiked in Pepper’s body slowly subsided into uneasy breathing, and the borrower attempted to sit up.

“Felix,” Pepper said weakly, squirming. The hand atop of him was heavy, pinning him down effortlessly by its weight alone. “I don’t sleep here.”

“Hmm,” Felix responded noncommittally, the noise rumbling deep in his chest. Pepper’s breath caught in his throat, face warm.

“Felix,” he demanded, trying to twist so that he could look up at the human. He was met by silence, and the slow movement of sleeping lungs below him.

Pepper’s heart continued to pound, much louder than the heart thudding away below him. Felix’s hand wasn’t hurting him, just very slightly pinning him down, cradling him against the warm chest below him. This was the closest he had ever been to Felix in his life.

It wasn’t exactly… uncomfortable.

He tentatively shoved at the hand one more time, then promptly gave up, flopping down with a huff. He stared at the ceiling for a long moment, listening to the idle sounds of the air conditioning and Felix’s breathing, before taking a deep breath and slumping his shoulders. Forcing himself to shift into a more comfortable position, he closed his eyes, sank into the heat surrounding him, and prayed that Felix wasn’t the type to move in his sleep.

-------

YAAAYYYYYY DRUNK GIANTS :DDDDD

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had fun writing it :))

TAGLIST: @smallsday @compact-katrina @satethesatelite @taters169 @entomolog-t @gtzel @gt-newbie @da3dm @clumsiergiantess @vee-normous @fee-hunter @torakan

[callsign-rogueone]

study season

fourth wing characters (Aaric, Bodhi, Brennan, Dain, Garrick, Imogen, Liam, Mira, Rhiannon, Ridoc, Sawyer, Sloane, Violet, and Xaden) x reader the ways our faves help you study for exams. words: ~900 🏷: no book spoilers, no triggers. gender neutral. and I included the girls this time!! some of these can be read as platonic and others mention kisses / cuddles, implying you’re a couple. idk, I just work here. I’m really liking this format lately, and it’s (fairly) quick and easy so you can expect more of these in the future while I procrastinate all the girlfriendverse chapters and smut I have to write lol

First, the more studious of the bunch:

Brennan is all-in, no hesitation, pulling up a chair next to you and learning this with you for moral support, but also for fun (can you believe this guy?) though you suppose it’s easier to enjoy this if it doesn’t count for a grade. Either way, he’s a very nice study partner, and he encourages you to take breaks every hour / chapter / etc. Brings snacks, too.

Violet somehow already knows all of the material, and explains it better than the textbook or the professor. Walks things back if you don’t get it and gets into the why and how, which so many teachers skip over, even though it helps explain the what (pet peeve of mine showing here lol). 

Aaric’s study skills are unmatched -- years of the best private tutors money can buy really paid off. Teaches you new strategies that you’ve never heard of in your life, and when you ask, he admits a bit shyly that he came up with it himself, but it works, and you get it done in half the time you would have before. (work smarter, not harder, baby)

Rhiannon gives you the pep talk of your life (we all need a Rhiannon in our lives) and convinces you that you’ve got this. Packs you a little snack for the day of your exam with a little note reminding you that you know this, just breathe and think. 

Xaden sees you struggling and forces you to take a break. During said break, he’s reading the book himself and figuring out what exactly has you so stressed and exhausted. Breaks down the tasks into smaller, more manageable steps and guides you through it -- “find three reasons why XYZ happened.” done with that? “Now make them into paragraphs.” etc etc, and an hour later, you have a passable essay. 

Dain is taking this more seriously than you are, and his discipline is like no other; you’re not stopping until the work is done, or until midnight, whichever comes first (because sleep is important for the brain, or whatever. Definitely not just because he misses you and wants to cuddle). 

Garrick may have no idea what you’re talking about, but he suffers through it with you, offering to let you explain things to him, because teaching is a good way to test if you understand something. Though you get what you pay for -- he’s a total smartass about it, asking questions about the littlest details even if they’re common knowledge -- he’s gotta be thorough, right? 

Ridoc may be the class clown type, but he’s smarter than a lot of people think. He comes up with a bunch of jokes that actually help you remember things. Somehow manages to relate the most complex topic in your book to a sandwich, and it actually works. He’s incredibly smug about this for the rest of the week, especially when you get the highest score in the class (he’ll take payment in kisses, thank you.)

Bodhi makes flashcards with you, quizzing you and giving you a kiss if you get it right (this definitely is not a distraction, and things definitely don’t escalate from here, nope.) He’s also really good at proofreading essays, and gives excellent feedback regarding the structure and the order of the information.

Liam sits there with you all the while, completely silent, working on one of his wood carvings at the other end of the table, but you know he’s there and he’s watching -- and that provides a healthy amount of peer pressure and keeps you on task. He’s an incredibly observant person, and he can see the stress building; he knows when to intervene and suggest that you take a break.

Sloane is the best person to commiserate with. She doesn’t want to be doing this either, but she’s also incredibly stubborn, and she doesn’t give up; after a healthy amount of complaining, she’s forcing you both to keep trying until it works / until it’s done, and then you’re treating yourselves to something for getting it over with, because you deserve it.

Sawyer is gentle and supportive, having a heart-to-heart conversation with you and reminding you that yes, this is important, but the world will not stop turning if you fail one exam. He knows how it feels to be compared to his peers, especially in how long it takes you to accomplish something (poor bb) and doesn’t want you stressing yourself out about that, either. 

Imogen is the opposite, all tough love, giving you gentle but firm reminders: “you didn’t make it this far just to give up,”, “I know you can do this, so do it,” but she balances it out with tender affirmation when you’re done. She’ll even let you skip out on training for the day since you’ve been studying so hard (and she takes training seriously, so this is more of a reward than it seems). 

Mira’s default approach is similar to Imogen’s, but she can see that you’re reaching your limit and dials it back, being more gentle with you and doing whatever you need -- encouragement? someone to just sit there? help / explanation / etc? she’s got you covered. herds you into bed at a reasonable hour so you’ll be well rested for the classes and exams.

And all of them are incredibly proud of you for working so hard and getting good grades 🤍

[highly-important]

Little Art things I'm obsessed with pt 1

Portraits of absent figures:

David Hockney - A Bigger Splash, 1967

Hockney originally visited California in 1963 and was won over by the sunlight and laid-back lifestyle, especially the luxury and ubiquity of the swimming pool. He described it as his "promised land" The splash is about freezing a moment in time, but it is also empty of human presence but implying a human. The male figure is present in some of David's other works from this time period, especially his muse and then-partner Peter Schlesinger. These paintings are about a hedonistic gay lifestyle, and the swimmers, the divers, are often the subject of voyeurism and desire. But in this painting, we just missed the diver, which makes the object of desire more private and personal. Who was the painter looking at, lusting after, etc. I like the contrast of the incredibly sharp and graphic suburban neighborhood, and the chaotic, organic splash. So again, if the divers represent this homosexual desire, we have this contrast of an orderly heterosexual world, and the queerness that joyfully disrupts it.

And then of course, with the absent figure, there is this massive sense of loss and loneliness. And so much of loneliness is about concealment, hiding in shame. This is a private space, but its also an exposed space, enhancing the loneliness. The figure is isolated, alone, invisible. Its a sadness that contrasts with the setting, the activity, and saturated lighting.

Felix Gonzalez-Torres - Untitled (billboard of an empty bed), 1991

These billboards were exhibited in the streets of Manhattan during the AIDS crisis. This piece was created the same year Felix Gonzalez-Torres's boyfriend Ross died. This portrait is a celebration of love and a memorization of loss and the emotions between intimacy and publicity. In the artist's own words:

“What I’m trying to say is that we cannot give the powers that be what they want, what they are expecting from us. Some homophobic senator is going to have a very hard time trying to explain to his constituency that my work is homoerotic or pornographic, but if I were to do a performance with HIV blood — that’s what he wants, that’s what the rags expect because they can sensationalize that, and that’s what’s disappointing. Some of the work I make is more effective because it’s more dangerous. We both make work that looks like something else but it’s not that. We’re infiltrating that look.“

The work intentionally uses the matching, identical depressions to imply a same-sex couple. The image itself is extremely intimate, but its being displayed in public spaces.

Felix Gonzales-Torres became known for his absent bodies.

And then, a little different, this painting by Jacques Guillaume Lucien Amans (1837) commissioned by Frederick and and Coralie Frey, depicts the three Frey children, with the faint shadow of a figure. There was a legend that there was a fourth figure in this painting. In 2005 a private collector, Jeremy K Simien, purchased the painting and it underwent conservation.

The painting revealed Bélizaire, a fifteen year-old enslaved domestic owned by the children's father. The picture captures the complex relationship between the boy and the children, the family that was keeping him captive. For one thing, the way he is set back from the others. There is this sort of intimacy between them along side the psychological trauma of forced bondage.

Here is a great Tiktok about the painting, to quote "What I'm struck by is what a sensitive portrait this is of this young man who was living in an inhumane society where he, despite being a human being, was bought and sold."

A few years after this painting was created, the three Frey children died, and Bélizaire was the only one who survived into adulthood.

The painting stayed in the Frey family. At some point, likely in the late 19th or 20th century, Bélizaire was intentionally painted over. In 1972, the great-granddaughter of Coralie Frey donated the painting to a Louisiana museum, informing them that a figure was painted over. During the course of the painting's life at the museum, no effort was put into restoring the figure.

Jeremy Simien's, who bought and restored this painting, said on his instagram "Bélizaire, they know your name now. Tell the ancestors to let me sleep for a minute."

And shout out to the picture that make me want to write this, Hyde Park Flowers, London by Tumblr user @kimironside I won't re-post it so check out the link.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Find Another Moment

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!SWAT!reader

Summary: Through a trip to find his mom, a series of explosions and executions, and an impromptu dinner date, you realize that you need Jim Street by your side all the time. Almost as much as he needs you.

Warnings: spoilers for 2x22 "Kangaroo" and Cinque story line from s2, angst to fluff, Karen Street being a bad mom, lots of comfort and love!

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

A/N: I shocked myself by making a rewrite that isn't chock-full of verbatim lines from the show! I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

There are very few people you rush to answer the phone for. When Jim Street calls hours after your shift ends, you nearly trip over your feet to get to the phone and talk to him.

“Street, hey,” you greet when the line connects. 

“Hey, sorry for the late call,” he says. “But I, uh, I wanted to ask if maybe you could get another ride to work tomorrow? I know it’s late notice.”

“Sure. Is everything okay?”

Street sighs, and your worry and concern for him grows.

“You can talk to me, Street. You know that. But you don’t have to.”

“No, I want to,” he answers. “It’s my mom. That thing with the credit card information worked out and I got an address. Now that I know where she is, I can do something. I’m going to go check it in the morning before I head to HQ.”

“No problem. Family comes first. If you want me to come along though, just wait in the car, I can. You shouldn’t have to do this at all, but it’s really messed up that you’re having to do it alone, Jim.”

You don’t often call him by his first name, so you hope he doesn’t take it as trying to force your way into his personal life. He gets enough grief from Hondo about his mom, and the last thing you want to do is make him think you want to interfere and give your opinion, too.

“Your decision,” you add. “But I can definitely call in a favor from someone else. And my car should be back from the shop this week, so I’ll finally stop asking you to chauffeur me.”

“I don’t mind. Just… with my mom, I don’t want to make anything awkward between us if she is there.”

“Street, there’s nothing that could happen that would change how I think of you or our relationship,” you assure him. “I understand if you want to go alone, though.”

“I don’t,” Street says softly. “I really don’t.”

“Then pick me up before you go. What harm can some moral support do?”

“Thank you.”

“What friends are for.”

“No, really. I don’t think you realize just how much you’re doing for me. Thank you.”

“Goodnight, Street.”

Street sits back and sighs. You said nothing could change your relationship, but after moments like this, he wants to be the one to change it. Being friends and teammates is great, but you could be more. And, for once in his life, Street wants to do something for himself, to be happy with you without any care for what others think. If his mother doesn't scare you away, by some miracle or chance of fate, Street will tell you that he has feelings for you. Then, you get to take it from there because Street has been manipulated too many times in his life to find comfort in causing others to rush into big decisions. Especially when his heart and happiness are on the line, too.

The following morning, you wait on the curb of your usual parking spot for Street. He seems nervous as he pulls in, and you hope that the moral support you came to provide eases him. You’ve heard the horror stories about his mom but haven’t talked to her extensively like some of your other teammates. If she is here, you’ll give Street room to do his thing and then navigate the rest as he instructs. Street is special to you, and you refuse to lose him by overstepping or pushing his boundaries. He’s your friend, and you stay there because if you lose Street, you lose everything that matters.

“This is it?” you ask.

Street leans over the steering wheel to look at the old, sinking apartment complex. People wander aimlessly around the building, and clothes and furniture hang from windows. A distinct sense of doom and gloom escapes through all the cracks and crevices, showing the building's age and lack of care.

“Come in with me?” Street requests. “Please?”

You nod as you open the door. As you walk toward Street, you have to step over broken beer bottles, cigarette butts, and empty nos canisters. At his side, you smile, trying to remind Street that you’re with him, no matter what.

Inside, you follow Street up a staircase lined with trash. The hallway at the top is dark and dirty, and the cheap laminate floor is peeling from the corners. No one deserves to live like this, you think as you notice someone sitting at the end of the hall, rocking back and forth.

Street slows beside an open door, and you stop as he pushes it open further. Music plays inside, and Street looks over his shoulder at you and nods once.

“Good luck,” you whisper. “I’m right here.”

You watch Street step inside, then turn slightly to see inside the apartment. It’s trashed and nearly unlivable, but Karen Street is sitting on the floor and laughing at an old cartoon. Your eyes move to Street as he tries to get her attention. A sound down the hall draws your attention momentarily, but you turn back quickly when Street asks who someone is.

“Bryce,” the unseen man answers.

“So, you leave the apartment and disappear for weeks without a word and starting using again ‘cause you chose this guy?” Street asks.

“Name ain’t ‘this guy,’ it’s Bryce,” Bryce says. “And you need to go.”

You can see Street, but not Bryce from your position in the hallway. When Street stands quickly, you step inside and watch as he shoves the man against the fridge.

“Okay,” Bryce pants.

“Hey, stop it,” Karen calls as she stands. “Stop it, stop it! Eddie, baby, please.”

While Bryce asks who Eddie is, you debate whether you should walk back into the hallway or try to help Street. When Karen hugs Street while talking to his father, you wait. You step toward him as he shoves his mom back.

“Oh, Jimmy,” Karen says when she realizes it's Street and not her husband. She pulls her robe closed and murmurs, “I’m gonna… straighten things up.”

She moves toward the kitchen, and you follow her, nodding at Street. You gently place your arm before Karen and smile when she turns toward you.

“Hey, Mrs. Street,” you greet softly. “I can straighten up for you, but why don’t we go somewhere else for now?”

“What’s she on?” Jim asks behind you.

“We took a mix,” Bryce answers. “A mix of a lot of things.”

“Maybe we could go get breakfast,” you suggest. “Wouldn’t you like some time with Jim?”

Karen nods and turns toward Street. “I can make waffles,” she offers. “I might have to go to the store though.”

“I don’t want waffles, Ma,” Street answers.

Street grabs a blanket from the table and drapes it over his mom’s shoulders. “I’m taking her home,” he says as he places his hand on her back. “Bryce.”

You follow Jim and Karen for a few steps, then stop. “Bryce,” you call. “If I find out that the mix of a lot of things was your creation, I’ll be back.”

“It wasn’t!” he yells after you.

You wave your hand over your shoulder as you exit, leaving the door open behind you. When you catch up with Street, he’s almost back to his car.

“You take her home, I can call someone,” you offer.

“I’ll drop you off. Tell Hondo I’ll be late?” he replies.

“Sure.” Street closes the car door, and you catch his wrist as you ask, “Are you okay?”

He shrugs, and you nod in understanding. You squeeze his hand gently, then release him to get in the car. Street means more to you than he’ll ever know, and you’ll do everything you can, even covering for him to Hondo, to be here for him.

“Street, it’s me,” you say to the voicemail. “Hondo knows you’re running late, but I didn’t tell him anything specific. I’m going to the courthouse with Cortez. Um… if you need anything, let me know.”

After you hang up, you exit the car and meet Jessica on the sidewalk. She knows who you called, you’re sure of it, but you’re hoping that she won’t try to meddle or give you advice. The walk into the courthouse is a comfortable silence, which you’re grateful for. As you sit, Jessica speaks to the reporter on her other side, but you keep your eyes on the defendants before you. When they stand suddenly and begin chanting, you roll your eyes. They’ve been saying the same thing since they were arrested.

“The time to be good to each other has passed,” they add. “The system will be burned to ashes, starting with this courthouse.”

You look at Jessica as you lean forward.

“That’s new,” she says.

Outside the courthouse, people begin yelling, and you don’t hesitate to stand and walk toward the door. Jessica follows behind you, and when you enter the hallway to see Cinque on the screen, you stop in your tracks.

“Cinque,” Jessica says. “He must have hacked the feed.”

She raises her phone to film the live video, but you listen to Cinque rather than focus on who is with him or where he is. Hondo and the rest of your team will be watching back at HQ, but if you can help, you want to be prepared.

“So,” Cinque continues, “this time we don’t want money and we don’t want to bargain. We’re going to burn the system down and rebuild on its ashes.”

Cinque raises a phone and presses the screen. Several cars outside the courthouse explode, and you duck down as the people around you scream. Jessica pulls her gun and instructs people to move farther into the courthouse. You stay beside her and fight every instinct to run out and help the people closest to the explosion.

“Cortez, this isn’t over,” you say over the chaos behind you.

Jessica holsters her gun and pulls her phone out of her pocket. “He’s going to sentence a politician on live television every hour,” she tells you. “He’s just getting started.”

“That was the 4th Street bridge, but he’ll move. You need my team.”

Your phone rings before Jessica can respond. Street’s name on the screen is the best thing you’ve seen all day, you think as you answer the call.

“Street,” you greet when the call connects.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I’m fine. Cortez is good, too. No casualties here. How are things there?”

“Hectic. When are you coming back?”

“When am I coming back?” you repeat, looking at Jessica. She shrugs, it’s your decision. “I’m not. I’m going to stay with Cortez and keep an eye on everything here.”

“Be careful,” Street implores. “Keep me updated.”

“You, too.”

“Councilman Strub’s body, hanging from the 4th Street bridge, it seems familiar.”

“Figure it out, Street, we both know you can.”

“I have to tell Hondo all is good there.”

“I’ll see you later, Street. I promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Less than an hour later, you’re still at the courthouse when Cinque executes another politician. You don’t watch this time, but you text Street to be careful immediately after the broadcast ends.

Back at HQ, Hicks tells Street, “Get the rest of your team and go grab Cinque!”

“The rest of my team isn’t here,” Street mumbles as he and Deacon exit the situation room.

“I know you’re worried about her,” Deacon says, “but she’s okay. If we want to get her back here safely, we have to stay focused, Street.”

Deacon joins Luca as Street calls for Chris and Tan to visit the location of Cinque’s last IP address. As he works, Street realizes that Deacon is right and wrong at the same time. He doesn’t just want you back to be part of the team, Jim Street wants you by his side all the time. Having you at his side, as a teammate, when things are bad, is great, but that’s not all he wants. He needs more.

 After successfully saving Councilman Washington, 20 Squad is surprised to see Jessica back at HQ. Street, however, only looks for you.

“She’s still at the courthouse, waiting for things to settle there,” she tells Street. “Deputies didn’t mind the help.”

Street nods and watches Jessica walk to her office with Hondo. He’s glad you’re okay and safe, but he’d prefer to see you in person. You stepped up this morning to help him with his mom, and now, Street isn’t sure when he’ll see you again.

“We need to find Cinque,” he tells Luca.

“For personal reasons or the public’s safety?” Luca asks knowingly.

“Why not both?”

Your phone rings during a conversation with a bailiff. Jessica’s name on the caller ID makes you answer it before you even excuse yourself.

“Cortez, hey,” you greet. “Everything okay?”

“It will be. Cinque is in custody, and Deacon and Hondo are reviewing all the intel we have to find the last Emancipator. I need you to join me at City Hall, if everything is under control at the courthouse?”

“As under control as it can be. They’re understandably freaked about the explosions and the live broadcasts, but they can spare me. I’ll be there in twenty.  Do you think we’ll actually find anything or have to wait for another lead?” you ask as you exit the courthouse.

“I wish I had an answer for you.”

Before you leave for City Hall, you text Street to let him know where you’re going. You hesitate over the ‘Send’ button, then add, I’ll see you soon. It’s a promise.

“Find anything?” Street asks as he enters the situation room.

“There’s a live press conference at City Hall, we think it’s the next Emancipator target,” Hondo answers. “Cinque’s been planning all of this for a while. Was there anything going on at City Hall in the last year?”

“Let me see,” Deacon murmurs. After a quick search, he pulls up a record and photos. “They installed new security cameras four months ago, and the installation crew had to scan IDs to gain access to the building. And that work crew sure looks like our Emancipators on trial.”

“They used the installation job to plant explosives inside City Hall,” Hondo realizes.

Street’s phone buzzes, and he continues listening to Hondo as he reads your message and rereads it.

“Cinque likes an audience. Now he’s got one on live TV,” Hondo adds.

“Tell Cortez,” Deacon urges.

“She’s not the only one there,” Street says, looking up from his phone. “They’re both in a death trap.”

“Call her,” Hondo commands as he raises his phone to his ear. “We need everyone out without raising flags.”

Standing in the crowd at City Hall, you watch as Cortez turns to the side and answers her phone. Your phone begins buzzing immediately after, and you step back to answer the call from Street.

“The Emancipators are planning to blow up City Hall,” Street says, skipping his usual greeting. “Hondo wants everyone out.”

“Got it,” you answer.

“No, hey, listen to me. You get out of there.”

“Street, I will.”

“Don’t wait, just get out of there and come back here. Okay?”

“I’ll be back soon, Street. I promised, didn’t I?”

Now, you just have to keep that promise.

Back at HQ, Hondo preps 20 Squad, and they roll out in Black Betty less than five minutes later. In his seat, Street forces himself to pay attention to Hondo. If he doesn’t focus on his job, his mind will run rampant and make him think of everything that could happen to you.

When people begin exiting City Hall, the final Emancipator detonates one of the explosives hidden inside. You’ve strayed from Hicks and Cortez to make sure everyone gets out safely, and when the building shakes and the first explosion echoes through the halls, you cover your head.

“Go, get out of here!” you yell to a man in the same hall.

The explosion sounded like it was on the two-side of the building. Though you know the sound may have been distributed oddly and you could be wrong, you begin moving that way. Street told you to leave, but you’re this close; you can’t sit back and do nothing.

“Go,” you call as you run past civilians exiting doors off the hallway.

You near the two-side as the explosions continue, ranging in speed and location. Without communications with your team, you have no idea if the bomber is even in the building. Or anyone else, for that matter.

“22-David, Chris got the bomber,” Luca alerts.

“30-David to D-Team. Status,” Deacon requests.

“26-David, clear,” Street answers.

“25-David, clear,” Tan adds.

“20-David, all clear,” Hondo reports after a moment. “And I’ve got Cortez.”

“Just Cortez?” Street asks.

Street doesn’t wait for an answer before he rips his phone from his pocket and calls you. You don't answer, and Street runs toward one of the only standing entrances. As he enters the falling building, he yells your name, screams through the dust, ignores the burning in his eyes and throat, and climbs over the rubble.

“Talk to me!” he yells, feeling ready to collapse. Leaning against a pile of debris, Street yells your name once more.

Each explosion disorients you more. Between the dust, the noise, and how the closer explosions throw off your balance, you lose sight of the exterior wall and your escape. Instead, you focus on moving forward and keeping your hope of finding any door.

Someone yells in the distance, but you can’t decipher where they are. Everything is muffled, and your steps are growing slow and heavy in your oncoming lethargy.

“Street,” you whisper, reaching for your phone before remembering you dropped it while running past a falling pillar.

Your eyes flutter closed as you lean against a wall. Investigators will be inside soon, so you rest amongst the wreckage and consider simply waiting for them. Until someone yells your name, that is.

“Street?” you ask without opening your eyes. You try to imagine the voice in your head again, and the simple thought of Jim Street gives you the strength to stand. “Street!” you yell. You’re interrupted by a cough, but you call for him again and hope you aren’t imagining his presence.

“What can you see?” Street yells.

He sounds closer now, and you smile as you reply, “Dust!”

“Cute,” Street says, his voice quieter but clear.

You turn to the side, and your eyes widen when you see him. Street steps to you and pulls you against his chest, hugging you tightly. He cradles your head against his chest for a moment before he pulls back and lays a hand against your cheek to look at your face.

“Let’s get out of here,” he suggests. “You feel okay?”

You nod and agree, leaning against Street as he follows Luca’s radioed directions to a clear exit. In the light of day, you can see that you and Street are both covered in dust, but there’s no one else you’d rather have beside you for support. You like having him by your side, you realize, and you wouldn’t mind staying at his side even when you’re off-duty.

“Thank goodness,” Street sighs. “I thought I’d forgotten what you looked like without all the City Hall powder on you.”

“You stare at her enough it should be burned into your mind,” Luca teases as he waves at you. “Have a good one.”

“You too, Luca,” you call.

“You want to come over?” Street offers, pulling his backpack onto his shoulder. “I can make you dinner.”

You smile as you close your locker. “I really want to, Street. But isn’t your mom at your place right now? Don’t you need to spend time with her, before, you know?”

“Is that the only reason you’re saying no?”

“I didn’t say no,” you argue with a smile. “I don’t want to intrude, though.”

“Come with me,” Street repeats, offering his hand.

You lay your palm over his, and you know you are home. Your place has always been by Jim Street, and you’re finally seeing that.

“Go ahead,” you murmur at Street’s door. “I’ll either be here to take you to my place or I’ll come in later.”

Street nods and squeezes your fingers gently. As he enters his apartment, he sighs. “Hey,” he tells his mom.

“How was work?” she asks.

“It was good,” Street lies. You were in danger, it was terrible, but his mom has enough to deal with already. Not that he would have told her the truth anyway. “How you feeling, Mom?”

“My headache’s cleared away, so… Thank you so much for coming and getting me. Uh, thank your friend, too. You okay?”

Street doesn’t answer, his eyes straying to the door, where you’re waiting to be everything he needs and more. Not because you have to or feel some obligation or twisted sense of responsibility for him, but because you want to.

“I’m so sorry, Jimmy, that you had to see me like that,” Karen continues. “Sometimes your mom’s just pretty sick.”

The door opens, and Street doesn’t turn around because he knows it isn’t you.

“Mrs. Street,” Karen’s parole officer says, “I have to remand you back into state custody for parole violations. You missed several check-in appointments and were found under the influence or narcotics.”

“You reported me?” Karen asks Street.

“So that you can get treatment, get better,” Street explains.

“I can’t go back to jail. Jimmy, I can’t go back to prison, I can’t. After all I’ve been through and all I’ve done for you, you’re sending me back? What kind of son would do this to his mother?”

“The kind that doesn’t want you to die.”

You watch as Karen is led out of Street’s apartment. With her back to you, she never sees you, but you heard everything. The door is still open, but you knock regardless as you step into Street’s home. His eyes are on the floor until you enter, and then he looks up with sadness evident on his face. Jim Street has never been one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but with you, he’d rip it out of his chest and place it in your loving hands without second-guessing that you’d treat it better than he ever could.

“Jim,” you say softly. “I’m so sorry.”

Street gently grabs your left wrist, closing his fingers around your skin and feeling your pulse thump beneath his touch. With his other hand, he pushes the door closed. When you step closer to him, Street pulls you into his arms and drops his head to your shoulder. Carefully, you move your hands to rub between his shoulders while gently brushing through his short hair.

“You did the right thing,” you promise him. “You love her. Even if she can’t see it, you did the right thing.”

Street’s arms tighten around your waist, and you close your eyes as you hold him.

“What do you want for dinner?” Street asks against your shirt.

You chuckle at his sudden change of subject, but neither you nor Street move. The comfort, the peace, the love you feel at every point of connection you have with Street is better than anything you’ve ever felt or will ever feel in the future.

“What if we order from your favorite place?” you suggest.

“Why?” Street mumbles, his hands clutching the back of your shirt.

“Uh, because you like it.”

“No, I mean, why stay with me, be here for all of this?”

You gently push Street back to look into his eyes. With your hands on either side of his face, you smile and answer, “Because I want to be. Right here is the best place I’ve ever been.”

Street smiles, his dimples appearing beneath your thumbs at your honesty. With his hands at your side, Street leans his forehead against yours and sighs.

“I really am hungry,” he admits.

“I thought we were having a moment,” you tease, brushing your thumbs over his dimples.

As you look into Street’s eyes, you desperately want to kiss him. After everything that’s happened, you don’t want to make him uncomfortable or force him into something he isn’t ready for yet. So, you wait.

“You didn’t listen to me. When I told you to get out of City Hall… you were all I could think about and when we realized what Cinque’s crew was doing, I realized that I need you, all the time,” Street confesses.

“I thought you were hungry,” you whisper.

“You can’t have it both ways,” Street replies happily. “Unless you want it both ways, and then I’ll find a way to make it work.”

“I want you, Street,” you say. “Now and forever, I want nothing but you.”

“Even with all the drama?”

“And the trauma,” you affirm with a nod. “We all have pasts and baggage, Street.”

“Would kissing you immediately after sending my mom back to jail be weird?”

“Now that you’ve pointed it out, yes, it would.” You step back and suggest, “Dinner and then we try to find another moment?”

“Only if you’re in it,” Street answers.

[skzsauce01]

What Was I Made For

Synopsis: College is hard, but it's even worse when you're a pre-med student and it's even, even worse when you don't want to go into medicine. Fortunately, the ghost that haunts your apartment is more kind, more annoying, and more helpful than you ever thought possible. College AU, ghost AU.

Warning: alcohol, bad parental relationship, mentions of death

Word Count: 6.2k

Pairing: f!reader x ghost!Kim Seungmin

A/N: Good luck with exams and classes!

“Honey, I’m home,” you call. The handles of the reusable grocery bag you picked up from a club booth at the beginning of the semester are already starting to fall apart, so you’re forced to flip on the light switch with your shoulder blades. You glare at Seungmin, who is lounging on the couch, staring at the ceiling. “Could you at least pretend to help?”

“What’s the point? I can’t even eat whatever you bought.”

You sigh and set down your haul onto the tiny kitchen island that doubles as a dining table. When you make a big production of taking out your groceries, Seungmin still doesn’t look up. Despite his inability to eat food, he usually shows some interest, if only to judge your snack choices.

On the counter, bananas in a plastic produce bag to prevent fruit flies, and a new roll of paper towels. On the top shelf of the fridge, a tub of Greek yogurt that Seungmin makes fun of you for liking. Assorted salad mixes in the crisper. A whole rotisserie chicken and a carton of eggs on the middle shelf. In the cabinet goes a party-sized bag of barbeque chips, a pack of chocolate chip cookies you don’t want to discuss how much you paid for, and a box of protein bars. 

You take the last item out of the bag and hide it behind your back. You hover over Seungmin. “Guess what I got?”

“A bag of potatoes that will grow spuds because you can’t finish them all.”

“That was one time! Try again.”

He guesses wrong again and again, so after the fifth attempt, you hold your prize in front of his eyes. “A better vegetable peeler, just like you told me to. Are you proud of me?”

For a moment, his sullen eyes brighten at the memory of you struggling with your old peeler. He watched with great amusement as the flimsy blade repeatedly got caught on carrot skin and you grew more infuriated with each catch. In the end, you gave up and ate the skin, fuming with each bite of your meal. Seungmin laughed so hard, you thought he would lose control of his physical form and slip through the floor. 

He sighs, all of the joy escaping through his lips. “Yeah, sure. Sorry, it’s just one of those days.”

“We all have them. Hey, why don’t we do something tonight? I’m done studying, so we can watch a movie or play Mario Kart or something.” You plaster a smile on your face. “Fun, right?”

“You’re never gonna get into med school if this is how you work.”

Despite his admonishments, he sits up and swings his legs off the couch to make room for you. He didn’t choose an activity so Mario Kart it is. You leave your peeler on the coffee table and grab your joycons. When you flop beside him, tossing the blue one in his lap, he grumbles as he’s jostled around.

“I don’t even wanna go to med school,” you remind him. He already knows since it’s all you complain about these days as the MCAT draws closer, but that’s never stopped you from repeating yourself.

“Wow, what a problem. I’d die to go to med school.” 

Without thinking, you snort. “Too late for that.”

Seungmin has been dead for nearly two years. The old apartment complex burned down in an electrical fire, and due to the housing demand in the area, the university quickly built a new one in its place. Sure, you suspected it was probably haunted, but rent was on the cheaper side, especially for a single room, so you moved in and learned about your unofficial roommate during your first night. You thought you were going to faint when you saw a stranger leaning over your stack of practice books, and you thought you were going to be killed when he simply said, “I was also pre-med.”

“Sorry,” you meekly say. Why is the Mario Kart music so cheerful? It would be worse if it was sad, but the upbeat tune just makes your mistake more poignant. “I shouldn’t have—”

“Well, you’re not wrong,” he interjects. “Doesn’t matter. You better not pick Birdo this time.”

While you normally would have fought him six ways from Sunday for Birdo, you choose Yoshi instead and pick his favorite circuit to start off the night. He makes no comment about your sudden generosity, but you both know the reason. There’s no such thing as pity in this household, but apologies are aplenty.

When you come back from your anatomy lab the following day, whatever guilt you felt is gone when Seungmin holds up your pack of cookies with a disapproving look. You must have forgotten to put it back in the cabinet before you left. Either that or Seungmin rummaged around your belongings when the roommate contract stated that he could not and would not.

“You seriously paid for these?” he says. 

“They’re good! And artisan,” you huff as you snatch the package from his hands. You hope you didn’t crush any cookies in the process. “I support small businesses.”

“They haven’t been a small business or artisan in, like, twenty years. How did the cat dissection go?” 

You reach for an overpriced cookie and snap off a piece with more force than necessary. “Fine. A little gross, but I guess I’m used to that by now. You wanna see the pictures I took?”

He tries to feign nonchalance, but his body seems more substantial, less ghost-like as you scroll through your camera roll. Even though he oohs and aahs at the most inappropriate images—you really don’t think the digestive structures of a cat deserve that much admiration—you can’t help but smile. He hasn’t looked or sounded this lively in weeks. You thought it might have been your snark rubbing off of him, but he always has a biting remark at the ready, remedied only with his good-natured demeanor. Of course, that demeanor has been slowly crumbling, so to see him be his usual self again feels good.

Satisfied, he lets you take your phone back. “Sometimes I miss lab. I hated doing the lab reports though; have fun with that.”

And just like that, your happiness goes out. “That’s tomorrow’s problem. I should study before work. You wanna help me out? I hate physics.”

Look, if your roommate were a pre-med student, had unlimited time, and no other obligations, you would force them to help you study, too. Plus, Seungmin loves MCAT practice, so it’s a win-win.

To your surprise, he doesn’t jump at the opportunity like he typically does. Under normal circumstances, he would be scouring the living room for where he last left his flashcards. Instead, he says, “Why don’t you take a break?”

“A break? You, of all people, suggest that I take a break when you were just telling me about my bad study habits? Who are you, and what have you done with Seungmin?”

He rolls his eyes. “I didn’t realize you wanted to do physics that badly.”

“I don’t. This is weird from you though.” However, after a moment of contemplation: “Whatever. Pick a show to watch. I’m gonna draw.”

He selects House because he’s still Seungmin after all. This is the show that inspired him to go into medicine, and is, as he’s mentioned many times before, “the greatest show on the planet.” It’s entertaining, you admit, and you do like seeing all of the obscure medical cases Dr. Gregory House solves, but it’s a grim reminder of your parents’ dreams for you. With the dialogue of the characters echoing in your head, you sketch a frog sitting on top of a stack of pancakes. You initially bought your tablet for note taking, but it really is much better as a tool for art. 

“It’s always animals, plants, or dessert now,” Seungmin remarks, craning his head to get a better view while you continually pull your screen away. “What happened to your big fantasy pieces?”

“Rule one: no looking until I say so. Rule two: no questions unless I say so. Remember?”

He ignores you. “You used to do a lot of those things when you first moved in. With the crazy landscapes, guys with abs in crop tops, cat-ear ladies with fancy dresses, villains who you definitely wanted to—”

“I get it!” Your face is blazing. He makes your artistic—purely artistic—interests sound so much worse than they are. “I’ve just been busy with life, so I don’t have time to work on them anymore. Anyway, animals, plants, and desserts are cute.” In a smaller voice, you add, “And they make me happy.”

Just like pictures of a flayed cat makes him happy.

He goes quiet and lets Dr. House fill the air. While he pretends to be engrossed in the show, you turn back to your sketch to fix your frog’s eyes to be less downcast. No sad frogs allowed.

You don’t remember exactly when the dread began, but you do distinctly remember glancing over the syllabus for your genetics course and wanting to collapse. Each item was manageable by itself, but the totality of the class, of your future classes, of your future hurtled at you at full force. For so long, you convinced yourself you could do it. You would complain the whole time, but at the end, you would be addressed as ‘Doctor’ and you would be happy. Your parents would be happy, so you would be happy and realize that it was all worth it.

Even if you cried every night, it would be worth it. 

You took a deep breath, looked at the list of assigned textbooks, and pulled out your credit card. You went through more dire situations than this stupid course. This would be easy enough.

Two weeks after the art fiasco, you finally test out your new vegetable peeler on potatoes. Your friend gave you five for free since she was having trouble finishing the large amount she bought. While you stand over the sink, humming a song your neighbor has been practicing for the past week, Seungmin is hunched over the coffee table, doing something secretive with flashcards. He’s been working on a new set of them since the art fiasco, which makes no sense since you have a perfect set of a thousand that you bought online. But no, he has been toiling day and night to create handmade ones. You don’t even want to know where he got the supplies.

Well, you already know where and how, but if your neighbors come knocking, you know nothing.

In fear that you’ll “ruin the surprise,” you have been forbidden from even stepping foot onto the living room carpet. Really, there’s no point because you can get a glimpse if you lean across the island. Nevertheless, you keep your eyes on the growing pile of potato skins. You have five potatoes worth of fries to make.

Ten minutes later, when you have moved onto slicing, Seungmin declares that he’s done. He places the baking sheet you left on the island onto a chair and triumphantly sets down his masterpiece.

When you pick up the topmost one, you can’t help but smile. Alongside the words “absolute threshold” is a cartoon rabbit with alert ears. Tiny music notes are dotted on the top edge of the card. 

“To make your studies less stressful,” he says. 

You don’t have the heart to tell him that you’re always some degree of stressed but nevertheless thank him. The flashcards are adorable, even if Seungmin’s drawing skills aren’t the best. “Newton’s first law” has an indistinguishable creature kicking a ball, and “law of independent assortment” features some of the strangest plants you have ever seen.

“I love them.”

“What do you think of my art skills? Better than you, right?”

You laugh and turn back to your cutting board. “You should’ve considered art school instead of med school. Professional artist Seungmin,” you muse. “I can see you in galleries and museums.”

“Don’t forget the history textbooks. Why didn’t you consider art school? You would be perfect for video games or something.”

For some time, you did consider art school. You spent the first two years of high school daydreaming about sitting behind an easel, translating a model’s likeness onto paper. Perennial paint splatters on your jeans, permanent charcoal stains on your fingers—that was the only way you wanted to study human anatomy. 

“My parents. You know how it is. Can you season the fries in the bowl?”

While Seungmin dumps copious amounts of salt, pepper, and whatever random spices he picked from the cabinet, you reflect on your teenage self. A part of you knew that drawing would only be a hobby, but another part kept hoping your parents would come around. When Hyunjin’s parents announced he was going to study chemistry, your mom wondered why he didn’t choose art when he was such a good artist. In fact, half the neighborhood, whose children went into STEM fields one way or another, were shocked he chose chemistry. Of course, if their own kids had opted for non-STEM majors, they would have been livid. Just like your parents had been.

“Did you ever think about not going into medicine?” you ask as you add more potato slices into the bowl.

He adds a swirl of oil to the mix. “No. It’s all I ever wanted to do. I volunteered at the hospital in high school, got an internship at a clinic here. I was studying for the MCAT and then…”

And then the university’s outdated housing killed him. It sounds horrific when phrased like that, but it’s more truthful than “Promising Young Pre-med Student Kim Seungmin Dead After Apartment Fire,” as the city newspaper headlined. His student ID photo smiled earnestly at readers, and a recent picture showed him posing in a lab coat.

It hits you then. Seungmin is dead. You knew this logically; you saw the articles, passed by the vigil, and signed the student letter demanding better accommodations. Then you forgot his existence until you applied to live in this building and when he appeared in your bedroom, you forgot about his death. Despite witnessing him walk through walls and tiptoeing around his deceased status, Seungmin has never really been dead to you. He’s your roommate who sleeps in the living room, your study partner who loves all things related to biology, or your friend. He’s too alive to be anything else.

“Did you preheat the oven?” he asks, breaking you out of your spiraling thoughts. Your body went on autopilot, and now the baking sheet is covered in pale potato sticks.

You glance at the dark oven and head over to do what you should’ve done twenty minutes ago. “My bad.”

“You’re the one eating these. Can you even finish all this?”

It’s far too much, but what else were you going to do with five potatoes on the verge of going bad? You suppose you could have not accepted them from your friend. “I can try?” you say, more to convince yourself than him. “I’m no coward.”

“Really? Then why do you hide when we watch horror movies?”

“That’s different. Mario Kart while we wait?”

“I call Birdo.”

Despite his declaration, you’re the one playing Birdo while he settles for Waluigi. Seungmin gloats when he hits you with a red shell, laughs when you fall off the track, and celebrates when he gets first place. He’s practically corporeal, alight with hopes and dreams you wish were your own, but he’s only the echo of the past. Meanwhile, blood flows through your veins and oxygen into your lungs, yet you’re stuck in a potential future you don’t even want.

At the end of fall, between your human biology midterm and that stupid philosophy paper, you break. It’s during one of your MCAT practice exams, so you at least can cry at your desk. You can’t even cry without guilt; your mind immediately starts trying to reread the problem you’re stuck on through your tears, as if trigonometry will solve your crisis. 

It feels like an elephant is sitting on your chest. Every time you think you’ve calmed down enough to begin again, another wave of sobs overcomes you. Just holding your pencil makes your throat tighten.

“Are you okay?” Seungmin’s voice is slightly muffled by your bedroom door, but you doubt that a thin piece of wood concealed your cries.

You choke out, “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“... No.”

You swing open your door with sardonic fanfare, spreading your arms like a ringmaster. Seungmin makes no comment about your swollen eyes or your sniffles. You almost wish he had.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asks. He takes a tentative step into your room, and when you nod, he lets himself fully in. It’s been several months since he’s last been inside. Unmade bed, cluttered nightstand, paper-strewn desk—nothing much has changed. He sits on your chair, resting an arm on top of the throw blanket you’ve thrown over the back.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about,” you say after a moment of silence. “I hate class, I hate work, I hate my life. A breakdown has been long overdue.”

You stare at the floor, afraid to meet his gaze now that he’s seen you like this. Ever since you discovered Seungmin, you’ve crafted the perfect blasé attitude to accommodate your new living circumstances. He leaves you alone sometimes and stays cordoned off in the shared spaces to give you privacy, but you don’t break apart in your apartment for good reason. You’re open and raw like a bloody wound. Will he want to patch you up with bandaids, or will he pick and prod?

Pick and prod, you pray. Make some flippant remark about how easy you have it, how he wishes he could be in your position instead. Because if he does, then the situation must not be that bad.

Softly, Seungmin says, “What can I do to help?”

Your heart drops to your stomach. “I don’t know… I should probably get back to studying anyway.”

“Really? Are you serious?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” you snap. Seungmin at least has the decency to look sheepish. “The MCAT’s in July, and I don’t even understand half the things I’m supposed to know. I’m barely getting C’s in philosophy and art history because of it. That’s so humiliating.”

“Have you thought about, you know, not going to med school?”

A harsh laugh rips out of your throat. “Every single day. But it’s too late. I’ve already wasted four years, so what’s another four?” That doesn’t even include residency.

“You’d hate it.”

“Story of my life.”

The room goes quiet. Maybe you were too severe with your words, but how else do you explain it? 

“What if you became a medical illustrator?” he abruptly suggests. “You’d know exactly how to draw everything. It’s perfect for you. And it’s still STEM-related.”

It doesn’t matter if it’s in STEM. Your parents laid out your options very clearly: doctor or disappointment. Some career choices were less disappointing than others, but they would still be disappointments.

“I need to study,” you say.

He stands up from your rightful seat at your desk. Softly, so very softly, he says, “I’ll let you get back to it then.”

“Thank you.”

He shuts the door behind him and leaves you with your despair. True to your word, you return to your practice exam, this time without crying. Your mouth is dry the entire session, but you don’t dare drink any water in fear that rehydration will trigger your tears. It’s stupid but keeps you holding on. 

When you check your answers and review terminology, you refer to the set of flashcards Seungmin made for you. He didn’t expect you to use them, but his drawings have helped you better memorize the definitions. You shuffle through them, occasionally trying to figure out the relationship between whatever Seungmin drew and the word written. Other times—but not enough for your liking—you know exactly what they mean.

The rabbit from “absolute threshold” stares at you with lopsided eyes, and Mendel’s warped pea plants grow beneath your fingers. The whole world blurs.

A month after move-in, after too many beers and barbeque chips, you asked Seungmin, “Why do you haunt only me? You can travel through the whole building, but you’re only ever here.”

He gestures at the room with a sweeping flourish. “This used to be my apartment. Sort of. They changed the floor plan, but this is the approximate location of where I lived, so when you moved in, it felt like fate.”

“Ah, a med school sufferer to keep you company.”

He laughs, but it sounds insincere. “How drunk are you right now?”

You glance at the row of empty cans you lined up on the counter. One, two, three, four, five. Five and a half, if you count the one in your hand. “Pretty drunk, I think.”

“So you won’t remember what I tell you, right?”

“Probably not,” you lie. “What is it?”

With a sad smile on his face, he says, “I haunt you because it’s like seeing someone live the life I could’ve had. Would’ve had.”

Your outburst doesn’t go forgotten, but you and Seungmin dance around the topic with the grace of a seasoned ballerina. You show him your grocery hauls, he scolds you for buying expensive cookies. The two of you play Overcooked instead of Mario Kart and pretend that Overcooked will strengthen your friendship instead destroy it even further. Seungmin is really bad, embarrassingly so. 

“Are you going to the party this weekend?” he asks as he drops onions all over the floor. There’s no health department in the game.

“I would ask you to be more specific,” you say, “but we both know I’m not going to any parties. Go chop the onions.”

“You need friends.”

“I have friends. Who do you think keeps us giving us potatoes?”

He scoffs. “That’s not a friend. That’s an enemy. We need more dishes.”

While you wash a stack of dirty dishes, Seungmin dashes between prepping ingredients and watching the timer on the soups. As expected, he doesn’t take the pot off the stovetop quick enough, and soon enough the whole kitchen is in flames. You scream at him to get the fire extinguisher, he wades through the sea of onions, and the level ends with a single gold star.

You set your joycon down and lean your head back. “Three stars or nothing” is your motto when playing Overcooked, but perhaps you can make an exception for Seungmin.

“Why’d you ask me about a party?”

“Honestly, I don’t know. Seems like a college student thing to ask. And a college student thing to do. Go to parties, I mean.”

“Not for us.” You stretch your arms and legs out, knocking your socked feet against the coffee table. “When have you ever seen me willingly leave the apartment?”

“Never,” he admits, “but you should enjoy your youth.”

Whatever mutual agreement you thought you and Seungmin had does not exist. You have long known that you would have to sacrifice your twenties for your future. There would be good moments among your struggles, but so many of your memories would be of test prep and studying. As your parents so eloquently put it, “You can draw after you retire.” 

“That’s funny coming from you,” you say. You wave a hand in front of his face and observe the way his eyebrows scrunch together. “Are you really Seungmin?”

“Do you know any other ghosts?”

“Do you actually regret dedicating so much time to studying?”

“No. I mean, I went out when I could, but you…” He mindlessly thumbs the buttons of the controller as he tries to find his words. “Well, maybe I do a little bit, but it was fulfilling. Or was going to be anyway. You’re miserable. I’ve never seen you without dark circles or eye bags.”

How needlessly observant of him. “Thanks. It’s the quintessential college look.”

“Take care of yourself.” He raises his joycon and nods at the TV. “Let’s go again. Three stars only.”

And just like that, you and Seungmin go back to pretending as if everything is fine, like the last few minutes were idle chatter about the weather. You yell instructions at him, and he retorts back with something snarky; all is well.

You suppose you should have realized why Seungmin asked you such out-of-character questions two weeks ago. Death anniversaries don’t typically go onto your calendar, but you could have made an exception for Seungmin. How did you forget? As you walk down the stairs, a wave of guilt washes over you.

The annual university-held vigil occurs on campus, but the apartment complex has their own small affair in the courtyard. Framed photos of the victims huddle together at the base of a half-wall. Already, there are several flowers and notes strewn about, and you add your own carnation to the pile. You have a note as well, and it burns your hand as you debate whether to leave it or not.

Twelve people died that night. “Only” twelve, as some papers reiterated. Twelve out of three hundred doesn’t seem too horrific given the state of the fire, but that’s still twelve people dead. Plenty more got injured trying to escape, and they aren’t honored at this memorial. The living don’t get commemorated—they live with the memories of the day, and that’s remembrance enough for the public.

“Hey.”

No one else is around, so you say, “Hey,” back to Seungmin. He disappeared for a few hours, and you assumed he would be gone until sunrise. In the days leading up to his death anniversary, he has grown increasingly depressed, looking vacantly out the window and mouthing words to himself. You idiotically thought he was just having one of those days.

“How are you holding up?” you ask.

“Fine, I guess. Good turn out this year,” he remarks as he kneels down to pick through the gifts. “The construction workers didn’t even show up to work because of superstition or something.”

“I’m really sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know, it’s just…” You wave the folded notebook paper in your hand. Maybe you should’ve bought some stationery after all. “Read this later. I’ll see you whenever.”

You gently place it beside your carnation, return back to your apartment, and lock yourself inside your room. It’s too quiet, and you’re too restless. Your head tells you to do practice problems to burn off your energy, but all you’ve been doing as of late is listen to your head.

As you sketch an anatomical heart—underneath a completely necessary and painstakingly accurate rendering of a male torso—your bones say that this is right. 

To Kim Seungmin, a star that went out too soon—

You deserved so much more than this. I don’t even know what else to say because nothing feels more appropriate. 

I’m living in your old apartment—where it used to be, at least—and I can’t help but feel that I’m living the life you should have had. Sometimes I can feel your presence when I’m studying. I can hear you reciting definitions and shuffling flashcards. When I’m really losing my mind, I can see you sitting on the couch watching House episodes with me. It’s comforting and terrifying.

You already know this, but I don’t want to go to med school. I hate it and I hate being a disappointment to my parents, but I hate being a disappointment to you the most. You should be in my place, so I thought I should try and complete your dream for you at the very least. I’m already miserable, so I should make the most of it. For a while, I thought this would make you happy, but it’s been making you sad and worried recently. I thought if I could make you happy, then it would be worth it, but I’m realizing it’s not, but I’m too scared to leave this path. Sometimes I don’t know who I am without med school looming over me, and it 

I wish we would’ve met earlier. You’re an amazing person, full of light and kindness. The world is darker without you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done and for everything that I didn’t do because you deserve so much better than whatever you’ve been given.

“Do you want to talk?”

Seungmin’s upside down face appears between you and the iPad you have been holding up with both arms. Philosophy review is simultaneously boring and maddening, but you have a final to be studying for. You should’ve started much earlier, but twenty-four hours of cramming has not failed you when it comes to general education elective courses yet.

“Not really,” you say as you push his face out of view. He’s corporeal at the moment, so your hand meets resistance rather than going right through. “I’m busy.”

“Did you apply for a ‘biomedical visualization’ program? That’s a medical illustrator thing, right?”

You don’t need to look at him to know he’s thrilled. Since the memorial, you began looking into medical illustrators as a backup plan. You only meant to learn about the basic requirements, but curiosity got the better of you, and you attended an online informational session. Seungmin overheard bits and pieces because of how thin the walls are, you got cagey when he asked, and he put his endless hours of free time into detective work. 

“I didn’t apply. I’m just looking around. Now go away.”

“The living room is a communal space. So you’re considering it then?”

You don’t respond and bring your iPad closer to your eyes. To read the tiny notes on the margins of your classmate’s notes, of course.

Seungmin cackles and claps his hands. “You are! This is good! Why are you so morose?”

“Because you interrupted my studying? I have less than ten hours to cover three months of content.”

“You’re deflecting. Are you worried about your parents?”

“Morose and deflecting,” you murmur. “Two gold stars for your vocabulary usage.”

“Are you?”

You shut your eyes, envisioning the stern faces of your parents when you announce over dinner your plans to spend your life not being a doctor. Their expressions morph from confusion to anger to grim when they realize how serious you are. 

Are you serious about this? You’re not even sure yourself. It feels like you’re in high school again, holding onto a shred of hope for a future you aren’t allowed to have.

“What if I lie to them?” you say. “I tell them I got into a school that’s super far away, go there, and return when I’ve firmly established myself as an illustrator or whatever I end up doing. It’ll be too late for them to do anything.”

“That’s one way to do it. But wouldn’t it be better if you were upfront?”

You groan and turn back to your classmate’s notes. What is it like, you wonder, to not be crushed by the weight of approval? What is it like to know you won’t be scorned for your choices? No matter what you do, someone—your parents or Seungmin—will be upset.

“Upset” is a very mild way to describe your parents’ reactions. After six cans of celebratory beer—you passed all of your classes this semester!—you called your parents to tell them good news. Somewhere between the silent congratulations and questions of your home arrival, you blurted out, “I think I’m gonna do biomedical visualization. Medical illustration. Art. It’s still medical-related, but not a doctor.”

And after a lengthy discussion filled with shouting, you’re not allowed to come home this year or ever again. CALL ENDED flashes on your screen, but you grip your phone so tightly you can feel your heartbeat in your fingertips. Your whole body is tense, flushed with indignation and shame. No tears come. You expected something like this but nothing to this extreme. Their words echo in your ears.

Ungrateful. Selfish. Disgrace. 

Logically, you know you’re none of those things, but you can’t help but feel they’re at least a little bit right. You sink into your desk chair and wait for the inevitable knock on your door. To step out of your own accord would be mortifying. 

“Are you okay?” asks Seungmin.

“I’ve been disowned in every way except legally,” you answer as you let him inside your room. “What do you think?”

“Sorry.”

“No, it’s…”

It’s not fine, but your mouth started saying so by default. You perch on the edge of your bed and stare at the stack of practice books that have been untouched for two days on your dresser. They would belong better under your bed where they’ll be out of sight.

Suddenly insecure, you ask, “You’re not gonna leave me, right? You’ll still help me peel potatoes and let me know when my artisan cookies are on sale?”

He chuckles. “The only way you can get away from me is by moving or by graduating. I’ll be here. Instead of nagging you to study, I’ll critique your anatomy.”

“That’s against the rules.” Nevertheless, you smile at the thought of Seungmin hyperfixed at your artistic renderings and comparing them against pictures from a textbook. “Thanks.”

Seungmin smiles back, and he radiates so much warmth that you forget it’s winter.

EPILOGUE

“Honey, I’m home,” you call. 

You nearly trip over the door sill in your heels but catch yourself in time. Wearing heels to commencement is a bad idea for more reasons than one. Clutching your friend’s graduation bouquet, you flip on the light switch with the back of your hand and glance over your apartment. Other than the dozens of boxes scattered across the living room and kitchen, nothing else belongs to you; goodbye coffee table you stubbed your toes against too many times; goodbye peeling school-issued couch. You half-expected to see Seungmin lying on it, staring at the ceiling like he used to. 

“Seungmin, where are you?” When he doesn’t answer, you try again. “Anyone home?”

You wander around the small apartment, checking behind doors and furniture like you’re playing hide-and-seek. He’s nowhere to be found, and you go through the apartment again in a frenzy. He could be in a different part of the building, but he always knows when you’re looking for him.

“Where are you? Seungmin, this isn’t funny! I know you can hear me.”

It takes twenty minutes, but you eventually realize he’s gone for good. No goodbyes, no hugs, no teasing—he just waved you off to your ceremony and shut the front door. You knew he wouldn’t be able to help you move out, but you thought he would still be here when you returned. He researched additional art classes for you, suggested works for your portfolio, and consoled you whenever you were overwhelmed. It’s a knife to your heart that he’s not here.

In between tears that you don’t allow to fall from your eyes, you carry your boxes of belongings to your car. You have a new place to call home, but two perfectly nice housemates and a dog aren’t good replacements for a ghost who annoyed you from sunrise to sundown.

I hope you find this note eventually. I know we have the rule where I’m not supposed to go through your belongings, but since we’re not going to be roommates any longer, I hope you’re not too mad. Completely unrelated but you’re really good at Mario Kart. So good. Birdo was designed specifically for you.

Congratulations on graduating. You’ve worked hard this year. Could have worked harder sometimes but you did it! Relax a bit during your gap year and enjoy your youth. Those art classes will be easy for you. Biomed visualization will be easy after pre-med studies.

Stop rolling your eyes and sighing. You know I’m right.

I’m sorry we didn’t get a chance to say goodbye. I know you wanted it, but I don’t think I could have handled it. The truth is that I was ready to go a couple months ago when you started compiling your portfolio. For two years, I didn’t know why I was still here. At first, I thought my unfinished business was about the circumstances of my death. (Stop wincing. I’m dead. It’s a fact.) Then the administration stepped up. They did the bare minimum, to be honest, but at least changes were made. When you turned up, I thought I was supposed to fulfill my dream of going to med school. Turns out, I still have no idea what exactly why I was here, but seeing you live the life you want and choose the future you want makes me feel like business is finished.

To L/N Y/N, a star that will keep shining for decades to come—

I’m so proud of you and everything you’ve done so far. There are so many opportunities waiting out there for you, so don’t be afraid to take any chances. I’ll be with you always.

[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 8

And we're back! Are you guys getting my tags, the engagement dropped again. I know that in America there was the holiday but it kinda dropped off before that and I saw other blogs that didn't have their tags work at all. So let me know if you aren't seeing all my posts.

Steve talks to Keith, learns some unsettling news and Robin is awesome.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

****

Billy Hargrove was a racist, chauvinistic asshole with a savior complex longer than his dick, but he was also one hundred times the better man than Dr. Martin Brenner. Granted Brenner was scraping the bottom of the ocean, but Steve was grateful for not having had to deal with him when he was around.

He also knew that he wasn’t going to speak to the Dominus today. He was going to speak to his second in command, Keith Prince.

He didn’t like Steve, and Steve didn’t know why. But considering that despite the last name, he looked more like a toad than a prince, Steve had a pretty good idea the dude was just jealous of Steve’s good looks.

He walked up to the coven, bare ass on display, having just shifted.

“The fuck do you want, Harrington?” Keith snarled. “And why can’t you come dressed like decent folk?”

“Because I’m a werewolf, Keith,” Steve sighed. “The fastest way for me to travel is to wolf out.”

Keith rolled his eyes. “You could always send Carol or Robin to do your dirty work. That is what keepers are for, aren’t they?”

“That’s isn’t happening in this or any life time,” Steve growled. “Not after you propositioned Robin the last time I sent her here on pack business.”

Keith just sneered. “What. Do. You. Want? I’m busy!”

Steve sighed. “Tell your Dominus that we may have the public school system to blame for the raise in hunters and to ask his thralls what they’ve heard.”

Keith scoffed. “He already knows about that shit and they don’t know nothin’.”

Steve’s spine stiffened at the tone and the fact that Billy already knew about the thing with Josh.

So either he had Lucy in his pocket, or there was a spy in his pack. Neither was an option he wanted to entertain.

Steve showed his teeth, forcing Keith to back down.

“You shouldn’t lie to an alpha, dumbass,” he snarled. “I can smell the stench of the lie coming off you like stale weed. You tell your Dominus that if he thinks he can push me around, remind him what happened to the last asshole who crossed me.”

Keith straightened up and bowed his head. “My apologies, alpha.”

Steve snapped his jaw at Keith before shifting back into a wolf. A wolf that could look Keith in the eye. He showed his teeth again and was gratified when he smelled the scent of urine wafting from the vampire.

He leapt through the door, leaving the scent of urine, lies, and fear far behind him.

*

Steve came back in time to see Josh off to his parents. He watched as Josh chatted happily with them over everything he did.

“…Did you know that a single werewolf could eat up to thirty pounds of meat a day? But not raw, that’s a myth...” Josh prattled on, his parents giving each other amused glances behind his back.

Steve turned to Tommy, the keeper that was hiding in the crow’s nest near the entrance.

“It sounded like he had fun,” he said, as Tommy leapt down in front him.

“Carol wanted to straight up adopt him,” Tommy said with a sneer.

“She always did have a soft spot for strays,” Steve murmured as Tommy fell instep next to him. “Especially strays that love shopping.”

Tommy nose twitched. “You went to that vampire mongrel’s again, didn’t you? I can smell him from here.”

Steve smacked Tommy’s head. “He’s not a mongrel just because he was made instead of born. Where are you kids getting these ideas? Jesus Christ.”

He snorted. “Whatever, I can still smell him.”

“I saw the mayor and visited the coven too,” Steve said dryly. “I was doing my duties as an alpha. There is something wrong in this town and I am going to figure out what.”

Tommy sniffed again. “Yeah, I get it. I don’t want Hopper back as the alpha anymore then most of this pack, so you better figure it out, before you get yourself killed.”

Steve pushed him playfully. “Shut it, Tommy!”

Tommy laughed. “I bet I can beat you to the center, no shifting.”

“You’re on!”

*

Steve was in his hut? Cottage? Living structure? He was never sure what to call all the little houses that was in the compound. Hell, he didn’t even like the word compound, really. It felt cult-ish. Which they weren’t.

Werewolves had tried living in towns for millennia and it never worked out well for the werewolves. They would get blamed for everything from failed crops, high infant mortality rates, and plagues.

So they started forming their own communities inside towns. Much like the Vatican and Italy.

Well whatever anyone called them, it was home.

Steve was at home, playing cards with Robin.

“So what did you think of Josh today?” he asked, drawing a card.

“I bet Tommy whined about it all the way back to the center of camp,” Robin said with a scoff.

“It’s actually fucking ridiculous how much the pack is so...so...” he threw his hands in the air frustration. “Fuck I don’t know the right word for it. But click-ee?”

“Clicky?” Robin asked. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You know, a click,” Steve said. “The jocks, the cowboys, the goths, the freaks. A click.”

“Ohhh...” she said. “A clique.”

Steve frowned. “Isn’t that what I just said?”

Robin half shrugged. “Sort of. But yeah, I’ll agree to the pack becoming more and more cliquey. It’s become very insular since...” she paused to think. “Actually I don’t when it started, but it’s recent. I just can’t tell you how recent.”

Steve hummed. “It’s becoming a problem and one I don’t know how to fix. I mean Josh and Chance here will help not only them realize that we aren’t monsters, but that regular humans aren’t monsters either.”

Robin nodded. “It’s certainly a step in the right direction. You need to get out more in the community. Do Q&As at the town hall and middle school.”

Steve scratched his cheek thoughtfully. He placed all his cards down. “Out.”

“Skunked again!” Robin shrieked. “How are you so good at this game?”

Steve just shrugged. “Why not elementary schools?” She stared at him blankly. “For the whole Q&A thing.”

“Oh, that,” she said, waving her hand. “Because despite there being an actual werewolf in the school no teacher or parent would agree to you speaking to kids that young.”

Steve sighed. She was probably right. “’K, so middle schools and town halls help with the community at large but what about the pack?”

She just shrugged. “That’s something you should really talk to your alpha female about, you know.” She scooped up the cards and began shuffling them.

Steve sighed. He did know. But he also knew that Nancy was still very much a conservative when it came to pack dynamics. She had actually turned him down twice because she felt that the alphas should be mated.

It wasn’t until Steve asked her and she couldn’t come up with a logical, non-sexist reason why that should be the case that she accepted the role.

“I love her dearly,” he said instead. “But I just kinda want to spit ball some ideas with you that I can take to her. So I don’t look stupid.”

Robin shoved his shoulder playfully. “She doesn’t think you’re stupid.”

Steve scoffed. She really, really did.

“Okay,” Robin conceded. “Maybe a little.”

“There is also the little matter of the spy,” Steve grumbled.

Robin grimaced and chewed her bottom lip. “You know it’s Tommy, right? Please tell me you know it’s Tommy.”

Steve frowned. “No. Why would it be Tommy?”

She sighed and scooted close to him. “Steve, he’s been hanging on Billy’s coattails at school. He’s always talking about how great Billy is on and off the court. Hell, if I thought Billy liked boys I wouldn’t be surprised to learn Tommy was sucking his dick.”

Steve ran his fingers through his hair. “But I need to make sure. I just can’t go accusing people without proof.”

“I don’t think you should accuse him at all.”

Steve reared back in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, dingus,” Robin said slyly. “You make sure to tell Tommy things you know you want Billy to know. Because a spy you know is better than one you don’t.”

Steve gave her a big hug. “I wish you were my alpha female.”

She hugged him back. “I know.”

“Have you thought about asking for the bite when you turn eighteen?”

She shuffled back a bit and put her hands on her knees and then nodded. “Yeah. I’ve talked to my parents about it. They’re uneasy about having a werewolf for a daughter.”

Steve sighed. “I’m sorry. Maybe the town hall meetings and the Q&As with kids will help.”

She nodded.

“Thanks, Steve.”

He kissed her cheek. “Between you and I we are going to change the world.”

She looked at him shyly. “You really think so?”

“I know so.”

Robin pushed his shoulder again. “You are such a sap.”

Steve laughed. “Yes, but you knew that.”

She looked at the scar on his neck and then reached out to touch it. “I’m sorry they did that to you.”

He shivered at her touch. “I don’t mind it.”

“I do, Steve,” she said fiercely. “They hurt you because they were afraid of you.”

He sighed. “When my parents died, the Franklins were the only ones in town willing to take me in. The only people who knew about the silver collar they made me wear was just the three of us until I turned eighteen.”

“How did no one else know?” Robin asked gently.

“I only wore it when they were home at home,” Steve murmured. “I wasn’t forced to wear it at school. Just at home where I ‘might’ hurt them.”

“It’s still cruel.”

Steve just shrugged.

“Whatever happened to them?” she asked after a moment or two of awkward silence.

“Officially or unofficially?” Steve asked with a smirk.

“There’s an official story?” Robin said eagerly.

He laughed. “Sure is. They are currently on a business trip to...” he looked at his watch, “Tokyo, Japan.”

“What the hell?” she gasped excitedly. “What’s the real story?”

“Only Wayne and I know where their bodies are buried.”

Robin giggled and kicked her feet. “That’s amazing!”

Steve smiled at her fondly. She really was his platonic soulmate.

****

Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20

Tag list: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @bookbinderbitch @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @anaibis @she-collects-smut @irregular-child

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

Midsommar vs SPOP: Cults and Religious Trauma

i watched Midsommar recently and was struck by how subtle and nuanced the Hårga were, in comparison to the Intergalactic Horde. of course, i don’t expect SPOP to show the kind of brutal gore that Midsommar did, but what i’m talking about is the way these cults indoctrinated members.

Horde Prime just mind controlled everyone to follow his orders and praise him, and it just felt so immature, especially compared to the way SPOP handled some of the other deeper topics. you’re telling me they wrote an actually good manipulator in the form of Shadow Weaver, but couldn’t do the same for Horde Prime? cult leaders are supposed to be manipulative. they don’t just force you to join their cults because it’s so much easier to break out of it. no, what they do is they convince you that this is for your own good. they promise you support, community, happiness, peace. they especially target emotionally vulnerable individuals, because they are a lot likely to accept help from a large community who is seemingly just looking out for them and trying to help them out.

and this is what happens in Midsommar. Dani recently lost her entire family to a murder-suicide, and her boyfriend had fallen out of love with her at this point and he often manipulates and guilt-trips her whenever she points out his mistakes. she was overall extremely lonely and depressed, trying hard to repress her emotions for everyone else’s sake. this is the kind of person the Hårga were looking for. a lot of the audience didn’t even realize that Dani was being indoctrinated into a cult or that joining said cult was going to be very unhealthy for her. that’s how convincing the Hårga were.

Pelle especially seems like the warm, comforting figure that Dani needed, letting her open up about her feelings and listening to her, in contrast to Christian, Dani’s boyfriend, who was often preoccupied with other things, and didn’t even bother to remember Dani’s birthday. you almost root for Pelle and Dani to end up together, until you realize that he is also part of the cult and all of his empathy and compassion is just a clever way to manipulate Dani into trusting the Hårga.

the scariest thing about the Hårga is that they weren’t large, imposing figures with a god complex. they didn’t have a leader who ruled them with an iron fist. they were just a seemingly normal community with seemingly normal people who had fun rituals and celebrations, and seemingly supported and cared for one another. even after seeing two people die brutally, Dani was still manipulated into joining the Hårga because they took advantage of her trauma and her loneliness. she desperately needed actual support and a shoulder to lean on, something her boyfriend didn’t provide. so when the Hårga offered her that support, it was easy for her to believe that this community was exactly what she needed.

and i think SPOP could have pulled something like this off, especially with Catra. if they really wanted us to believe that Catra felt guilty about her actions, they could have gone a more interesting route. i mentioned this in a previous post but instead of Horde Prime chipping Catra, they could have shown him manipulate her and promise her that she can be absolved of all her sins if she joined him. instead of being all like “teehee i know you have a crush on adora, you gay kitty”, they could have shown him feed on her insecurities and loneliness, and promise her a happier future of she joined him, playing on her need for validation and affection.

and in a moment of desperation, Catra believes him. she has lost everyone at this point, so she accepts what little comfort is offered to her. and then it’s the writers’ choice whether to redeem Catra by having her come to the realization that worshipping a genocidal tyrant with a god complex is actually not going to help her become a better person, and that she was just repressing her guilt and convincing herself that this is the best option; or to have her stay and face a tragic ending of sorts. either way, i think it would have been better than what we got.

i know that Nate apparently struggled with religious trauma and guilt (according to a few posts i saw, at least) and i’m not trying to say that i know his experience better than he does. i just think the execution with Horde Prime was really off, and he was almost like a funny caricature of a cult leader, rather than a representation of an actual cult leader.

[fantastic-nonsense]

honestly I think if you complain about Star Wars focusing too much on the Skywalkers because "the galaxy is bigger than one family" and "not everything has to be connected" you have fundamentally missed the point George Lucas was trying to make with the original movies.

Star Wars is VERY deliberately an optimistic, cyclical, and myth-based family drama structured around a single family's story, and that purposefully generational story is the story George Lucas saw as the core point and purpose of Star Wars:

“It’s the missing link,” Lucas says. “Once it’s there, it’s a complete work, and I’m proud of that. I do see it, tonality-wise, as two trilogies. But they do, together, form one epic of fathers and sons.” [x] The first three movies had all kinds of issues. [Disney] looked at the stories and they said we want to make something for the fans. So I said all I want to do is tell the story of what happened. You know, it started here and it went there. It's all about generations and it's about, you know, the issues of fathers and sons and grandfathers; it's a family soap opera. I mean, ultimately. We call it a space opera, but people don't realize it's actually a soap opera. And it's all about family problems — it's not about spaceships. [x]

He also wrote Star Wars for the express purpose of attempting to teach people that everything is interconnected and everything we do has an impact that resonates beyond our own lives:

Paul Duncan: "It takes a lot of people to build the ark." George Lucas: "Yeah. And it needs to be done through reason, love, and compassion, not through force. The films are trying to stress the idea that everything is interconnected. I like to make movies that are complex, but it's not obvious to people unless they start digging into it. Most people don't realize it and can't grasp the whole entity because they're focusing on four or five pieces out of 200, and often they don't want to hear about the other pieces because it requires additional thought and ideas outsides of the films. There are cycles and cycles in the story and the characters throughout all six episodes. There are cycles of the same thing being repeated over and over with different groups of people, and the outcomes change because the characters have grown or changed over the story. The repitition shows the characters' development. [x]

GEORGE LUCAS: At some point you do have to become an independent person. And it’s about learning to let go of your — your needs, so to speak, and — and think of the needs of others. BILL MOYERS: So “Star Wars” is — yes, it’s about cosmic, galactic, epic struggles, but it’s at heart about a family. The large myth set in a local family. GEORGE LUCAS: Well, in most — most myths center around characters and — and a hero, and it’s — it’s about how you — how you conduct yourself as you go through the hero’s journey, which everyone goes through. It’s especially relevant when you go through this transition phase. Most societies it’s when you’re 13 or 14. In our society it’s sort of 18 to 22, somewhere in there, that you must let go of your past and must, you know, embrace your future and — and in your own self, by yourself, figure out what it is — what — what path you’re going to go down........... .......BILL MOYERS: And what do stories do for us in that sense? What do myths... GEORGE LUCAS: They try to show us our place. Myths help you to have your own hero’s journey, find your individuality, find your place in the world, but hopefully remind you that you’re part of a whole, and that you must also be part of the community, and — and think of the welfare of the community above the welfare of yourself. [x]

Lucas structured this tale in two ways: through Anakin's deconstructed hero's journey (in the form of a Greek tragedy) and Luke's straightforward hero's journey (culminating with Anakin's redemption) and showing us how this one family's multi-generational story had a huge impact that went beyond their own lives and echoed throughout the galaxy. That was the point!

While there are plenty of other stories not centered on the Skywalkers that can and should be told within the universe, ultimately people need to keep in mind that Lucas was not shy about his intentions in making the movies: he WANTED to write a straightforward retelling of "old stories," and he wanted to do it through the lens of a personal family narrative.

All of the Star Wars material that focuses on non-Skywalkers (which has ALWAYS been around, Rogue One and TLJ and The Mandalorian and Andor and etc etc etc were NOT the first ones to do that) is great, but it's a bonus! An add-on to the core story and point of the franchise! It's not that they're unimportant, because they're not, but at some point it should stop surprising people when the Skywalkers and/or the events of the original six movies get referenced or utilized.

It just bothers me when I hear these complaints because like...if you don't like the Skywalkers, why do you even watch Star Wars? None of those other stories would exist without them! Please just go enjoy another sci-fi franchise and stop complaining that the main characters of Star Wars are being focused on or are popping up in places it makes total sense for them to be!