#but dude our country is so fucking backwards. what the fuck.

[flowers-and-literature]

Man fuck this fucking country

[saviourkingslut]

went to my gp and they'll get me a referral to the transgender dep at the hospital so i can get on the waiting list. wahoo

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

pls do a part two of the weird girl!reader blurb where people talked bad about her in the country club and she overheard.

my idea is that after rafe made sure she okay(made her some good food and watched her favorite movies with her until she fell asleep)he immediately drives to the country club to tell the guys who made fun of her his opinion.

i’d really appreciate it :))

18+MNDI

No bc he absolutely would !! He’d wait until you dozed off two movies into your marathon and as carefully as possible slip out from underneath you. He would make sure your blanket was still secure around you before quietly sneaking through the front door and out to his truck.

Even though it’s nearing dark now he knows these guys. He knows how they work. They’d play a round or two of golf before spending nearly all night in the club bar. He spots them almost immediately.

“Hey, fuckers!” Rafe storms over to their table, smacking his large hands against the cloth covered wood with a thud. “You guys think you’re funny or some shit?”

“Rafe! Hey man! What’s going on? You wanna have a drink with us?” Trevor offers Rafe a nervous smile as he holds up a bottle of expensive liquor to him.

“Cut the fuckin’ shit.” Rafe slams his hand down on the table again causing the entire table to shake. Glasses clink together as the men all jump in surprise. “You why I’m here.”

“Dude, what are you talking about?” Another one of the guys nervously asks and Rafe can tell he’s full of shit from the way he’s squirming in his seat.

“You wanna play dumb? Alright.” Rafe chuckles darkly before grabbing onto the collar of the guys polo. His tall frame towers over the other mans as he practically growls in his face. “You think you can just fuckin’ make my girl cry and get away with it that shit? ‘The pussy must be out of this world’?”

“Shit, man, we didn’t think she was gonna hear that! I swear!” The dude whose name is escaping Rafe in this moment cowers in his hold as his friends pipe up to defend him.

“Rafe, bro, we didn’t mean any harm! We swear!”

“It’s not our fault we don’t get why you’re with her!”

“We were just saying she’s hot man! Like good for you dude!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Rafe has the dude practically pulled out of his chair at this point as his eyes graze over each of their desperate faces. “If I ever hear my girls name even come out of one of your fuckin’ mouths again, you’re dead. Got it?”

“Yeah! Yeah, we got it dude! I’m sorry! Just please let me go!” Rafe smirks down at the pathetic man in his grasp, his eyes filled with fire but a smirk painted on his lips.

“Good.” He shoves the guy back into his chair so hard that he flies backwards into the table, completely flipping it on its side. He chuckles as the men groan in discomfort from either alcohol spilled on their expensive golf clothes or being knocked down in the crossfire. “If you ever fuck with my girl again you won’t be able to walk, got it?”

He spits on the ground in front of them before walking away, back home to his weird!girl.

All things Rafe & his weird!girl here

[momo-de-avis]

How about CURSED portuguese history facts?

Holy shit I don't know who sent me this but it accidentally got burried under mounds of under asks and I think it's been sitting in my inbox for a year

I feel fully armed for a few cursed facts now given my job lmfao

Here we go

1. The Ginjinha of Lisbon (OF LISBON, not Óbidos) was initially created as a cough medicine. Recomended dose? 6 glasses a day. Ginjinha has around 23% of alcohol. Yeah that sure straightened you up really well (if you look at the posters they have on both doors, the door to the left actually says the recomended dose)

2. During World War II, Lisbon received thousands of jewish refugees. Despite the war, the fact remained that these people came from, compared to our backwards provincial country, progressive places. Do you know what the most shocking thing for lisboners were? Jewish women (who, again, were pretty progressive in comparison) were seen... At cafés. Hordes of men would actually gather around these women who were dead ass just having lunch at a café because portuguese women did not go to cafés alone, as it was considered indicent and a place jsut for men. This was between 1932-1945. There’s a super interesting account of a rare case of a Jewish family that actually stayed here, and the lady describes how she went out for lunch with her mother. Suddenly, the daughter says to her mother “I think we’re starting a revolution” and she turns and sees a row of men just fucking staring at them with their jaws on the floor (source: Lisboa Judaica the book, forgot the name of the author, but it’s Francisco something).

3. Praça do Municipio is where City Hall is located. It’s a late neo-classical building that, when it was unveiled, caused a huge scandal. If you look up at the building's pediment, you will see a bas-relief with several human figures. At the centre, there is a man with his whole dick out. Which, hey, that’s standard in classical imagery, the whole nudity standing for perfection if you follow the Roman canon of art and etc. But ah, my friend, this is Portugal in the 19th century, and my God, were we a backwards country, so this is exactly what generated a HUGE scandal. You see, the problem was WOMEN. They could not possibly see this dick. So, women were forced to cover their eyes when they crossed that square. It became such a scandalous thing, one guy actually set up stand selling fans and veils for women so they could cover their eyes and cross the square without having to look at this dude's genitals. Mind you, they're hard to spot. Rafael Bordalo Pinheiro did a caricature of the event. I can't find it online but I saw it in the book I am about to give you as a source: Lisboa Desconhecida e Insólita, by Anísio Franco.

4. John VI used to hide chicken legs inside his pockets out of fear of being poisoned. He died of poison.

5. Legend says when the statue of José I was unveiled, the one in Praça do Comércio, the queen allegedly said "he looks so ugly". Allegedly, that is why he is wearing a helmet. Yes, the sculptor did nothing about the ugliness, just sort of tried to disguise it. Reminding you that this is a legend. As far as I am aware, the statue was always made with the helmet, but I honestly prefer this version, so that’s the one I tell on my tours lmfao

6. In the 16th century, Manuel I loved collecting animals he knew nothing about, and then gift them to the Pope. We know about the rhinoceros already, which ended up being painted by Dürer, but did you know he also got an elephant? One day, though, he decided it would be a great ideal to have the rhinoceros and the elephant fight each other. He set up an arena in Praça do Comércio. People went buckwild for this. It was like WWE for them. And when the two animals confronted each other.... Nothing happened. Turns out elephants are not really made to fight and the two animals didn't really give a shit about each other. However, elephants are easily spooked, and with a sudden movement from the rhinoceros, that's what happened. The elephant took off from the arena and ran across the entire city back to his caretaker.... And miraculously, did not stomp a single person. The Rhinoceros was declared a winner but only because the elephant quit. People were a little disappointed at this, and ironically enough, it’s the elephant that’s reminded (he had a name but I forgot). Source: another ANísio Franco book, called something like Passeios por Lisboa, I forgot I’m sorry.

7. When the French invaded our country, they found John II's tomb... And beheaded him. No real reason, I guess. The body was put back together and properly buried again by some nuns who kind of felt bad about it.

8. This one is not funny at all. But I'll say this: don't ever look into the Braganza's involvement in slavery if you want to preserve your sanity. It's some of the most horrid shit you'll come across.

EDIT: a while ago I mentioned this in another context, and someone asked for a source. I remember now I said I needed to look it up but, as ever, I forgot. With all my due apologies, here it is: https://expresso.pt/sociedade/2015-12-08-O-segredo-dos-escravos-reprodutores

9. The Marquis of Pombal once stole the waters of Sintra, leaving the people with ONE public fountain in butt fuck nowhere. I've talked about this one on here before but it shows how fucking insane the man was.

10. The expression "ficar a ver navios", which means "to stand by watching the ships pass", is used when someone is waiting for something that will not happen (like, if someone is stood up on a date, you say they stayed there watching the ships pass). It actually comes from the expulsion of the jews in 1497. Manuel I promised jewish people who wished to leave ships to board and go to North Africa. However, he also knew, because he was a fucking idiot but not entirely stupid, that if he expelled the jews, the country's economy would basically collapse, because jewish people held a GREAT number of businesses in not just Lisbon, but major metropolitan centres. So, this was a lie. The ships he promised never came. For months, jewish people went to the Santa Catarina hill every day to look out for ships that would let them board and leave the country. The ships never came, thus, they were "watching the ships pass", but none of them stopping.

Okay this is all I can think of A YEAR LATER LOL

[gavisuntiedboot]

I'm the anon that u called Islamophobic. I think I didn't get my point across. Mena is notorious for having no democracy or electing fundamentalist gov. This isn't being Islamophobic this is a fact. I don't think Palestinians will want to live in peace after what israel put them through especially kids from Gaza.

Creation of Israel was to make it a Jewish state not a secular state. Makes no sense for them to change law of return. Especially with Netanyahu n abbas to find a middle ground

Its naive of u to think that it won't start a Civil War like in Lebanon. They don't like each other. Either way there will be genocide of Either group. Forcing a one state solution is not feasible,unless u want a blood bath. Ut will be 1947 all over.

I'm not Islamophobic like u make me out to be. I live in a country that feeds the same kind of propaganda. What israel is doing in wrong. They shouldn't have been making a state there. Things happened has happened.

Both of the leadership in very corrupt. This is the reason I support 2 state solution so that they don't kill each other. Or otherwise jews just go back where they come from Europe or Mena wherever.

Also river to sea is a call for genocide. It was used by Israeli gov and also Palestinians. U want to mean it something but it isn't.

I hope there will be peace someday without a genocide

Anon, read these words carefully: you ARE being Islamophobic and racist when you say these things.

MENA is notorious for actually having their governments collapsed by the West and then benefiting from the chaos. That's what happened in Egypt and Kuwait and Lebanon. They never let elections stand as the people want them. You are saying that "MENA people don't know how to pick governments or they pick a Muslim one." Like dude. There is currently no fundamentally Islamic government anywhere in the world. It doesn't exist. Like who are you referring to when you make this statement? If I say "Ukrainian people don't know how to elect a good government, so Russia should have Ukraine" it would be an ASS BACKWARDS STATEMENT. YOU, non-MENA individual, think we don't know how to pick or elect a government. So what if it's an Islamic government? IF THAT'S WHAT THE PEOPLE CHOOSE FOR THEMSELVES WHAT IS THE ISSUE? You're Islamophobic and racist because you believe that people in the MENA region are not capable of making decisions for themselves or capable of being civilized.

"Well I don't think that Palestinians will want x..." Respectfully, what you think means ABSOLUTELY FUCK ALL IN THIS SITUATION. You are not Palestinian, you don't talk to Palestinian or even Middle Eastern people apparently, and your response is "Well they already took the land so let them keep it." No. Fuck you. It's our land and we want it back. Because by your logic "well Franc took Algeria so they should just be fine with it". Like you fundamentally do not believe brown people have the right to their own land and to self determination. If Russia took a portion of Ukraine, you would never say "oh just let Russia keep it what happened already happened" because they're white.

The West fucks up the MENA region and then tells brown people to deal with it. Lebanon was created to make an Arab state for Christians so they would leave Syria. Then the same Western countries put a Muslim government in place TO MAKE SURE THE MIDDLE EAST WASN'T AT REST. THE WHITE WORLD BENEFITS FROM THE DESTABILIZATION OF THE MIDDLE EAST. SO THEY CASUE IT THEMSELVES.

Israel shouldn't exist. And God willing within our lifetimes it will cease to exist. And I mean that in the same way the Soviet Union ceases to exist. Not as a call for killing, but the dismantlement of an oppressive political system of ruling. I want the state of Israel to disappear, not Jewish people.

And finally, from the river to the sea was a slogan made by Palestinians. Israelis stole it, like they stole everything else. Palestinians say it with one meaning, and your refusal to accept the meaning from the creators of the phrase speaks to the internalized bigotry within you. When people say "Black Lives Matter" do you feel threatened? Do you think it is a call to end white lives? Do you burn with the need to say "well ALL lives matter"?

Your argument is based in the fact that you see brown people as incapable of self governance, that because they were massacred in '48 they don't deserve their own land, that everyone is bad so Palestinians should shut up and be happy with a two state solution and that's the best we can do. You are a racist and you are Islamophobic, and I will not be responding to any of your further attempts at a rebuttal until you can sit with yourself and realize that. You think you're free from propaganda? The propaganda has worked extra hard on you, because you still believe that we are not civilized people.

I hope you have the day you deserve.

[nonsubstantial]

I hate my supervisors so much, fuck all managers, fuck work, and power truly does corrupt people dude. There are people who went from being my friends, to a year later accusing me of not meeting workplace standards, and threatening to fire me, and claiming that I don't communicate with them, and blaming me for THEIR incompetence, all for reasons that are so asinine and obvious that it makes my brain do cartwheels just thinking about it.

And it really says a lot about society and workplace culture that I have to go back to work tomorrow while I am still testing COVID positive, with symptoms of coughing, and runny nose, and headache, and severe exhaustion, to do a labor intensive job, in the cold, where I come into frequent contact with people.

And management simply does not give a fuck, never asks me how I'm feeling or what THEY can do to help, only chastises me for "not communicating" with them, after they text me at 6am telling me to come into work while I am still SLEEPING AND SICK WITH COVID.

And it makes me so fucking angry that our dumb fuck government criminalized the railway strike when they asked for some basic sick leave too, like our whole country simply does not give a fuck about basic human welfare, and has extensively propagandized the notion that "seeking more welfare and less work" is somehow "anti-american" or communist. As if the entire point of labor should not be to improve our lives and have more time to relax. WHY is it so crazy to want some sick leave and a house to ourselves and some fucking time off??! Our workaholic culture is so backwards and makes me so mad I want to actually destroy everything.

If my supervisors or coworkers make one comment about me "enjoying my time off" while I was staying home sick with coronavirus (WHICH I SHOULD STILL BE DOING), so help me god, I may need to seek real mental help because the only thing on my brain after that will be how I want to literally kill them. Why are we not allowed to take time off, time to recover, time to live, time to grieve, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, work, always work, fucking god fuck the USA it doesn't have to be like this, why

[anothershittyaccount]

It just seems so racist.... like you are implying that your country is so backwards and heinous and unjust and in violation of fundamental human rights that they are handing out exuberant sentences for minor crimes and infractions and having cost that makes litigation by the basic citizen so costly the only option they have is jail because they can't afford to litigate and fight it. And like if your country is that backwards, how the fuck are they affording the incarceration of so many people when they are making over reactionary arrests that people can't afford to fight? Like if the people are so broke or things in this country cost so much, that means there's no tax revenue because shit is so cost prohibitive and people have no income to tax and if things cost so much, how can the country afford to keep so many people incarcerated? It's not like housing people in jail is cheap.

Today she said she doesn't believe the jail story was legitimate. And like ya, no shit. Dude was posting on Facebook while supposedly incarcerated. But it was good to hear. She said basically we were at the concert and she hadn't heard from him all day which was unusual because they had talked every day since they met basically. He was always checking in multiple times a day and responding to her messages and he wasn't. She thought it was unusual. She messaged to ask if he was OK. No response. In subsequent days, his brother, whom she had never spoken to but had known about bc he shared the same room with him and snored, reached out and messaged her. She asked him what was going on with him because she hadn't heard from him and the brother told the story. They were rear-ended on the motorcycle she bought him, mom flew off and broke her leg in their town, where speed limits are no more than 30mph within city limits. Instead of helping mom, he assaulted the driver in the car who rear ended the motorcycle.

It's unclear if he went home and was later arrested or if he was arrested on the scene. Apparently for assault charges, the victim needs a medical certificate documenting their injuries and impairment and how many days they will be out of work/school. Anything less than 5 days impact is minimal, anything more than 30 days is grave.

Per the story, the victim initially agreed to not go hard but then supposedly changed his mind and wanted him punished. She gave money in Sept immediately at the news and then again in end of October and he was released first week in November after we had the dogs vet appointment.

09.01.23 $2,499.99 wu

09.05.23 $1,000.99 wu

09.05.23 $1,010.99 wu

09.05.23 $2,499.99x2 wu

In the first 5 days of September she sent $9,510.

09.19.23 $2,499.99 wu

09.20.23 $2,499.99 wu

In the middle of September she spent $5k.

10.26.23 $499.99 wu

10.27.23 $1,145.99 wu

10.30.23 $2,499.99x3 wu

10.31.23 $2,499.99 wu

In October she spent $11,645.

Grand total for legal expenditures was $26,155... she believes she spent only $20k. Just like how she thought she spent $100k total when the amount was $63k more than that guesstimate.

Just asked and she said the initial September $10k charge was what she was told the cost would be. Then in Sept, brother hassan reached our saying the court was not going well and this latest phase (possible appeals is what she said) required more money to pay for costs, the $5k. Then he reached out end of October saying that he was sentenced to 1 year or he could get out if they paid this money, the $11.5k. She gave this money October 26, which means they reached out probably a day or 2 before- meaning sometime in the middle of last week in October. Then the guy supposedly didn't get released till the second week of November, sometime after the 6th but before the 10th.

This leaves many questions. Why did it take them 2 weeks to release him after the money was received? Also, why did she structure the payments so weirdly? 2 transactions for under $2k total on 2 days, a Friday and a Thursday, and then 2 transactions after weekend... the one day she had 3 transactions of $2.5k each. If the transaction limit on western union was $2.5k, why couldn't she have just made 4 or 5 transactions that day totalling the $11k needed? Or if the max amount of $2.5k transactions per day on western union is 3, why couldn't she have made 3 transactions of $2.5k the next day and not have it spread out over so many days?

And if it was part of a pay for days you were sentenced to serve in exchange for freedom, the rate specified is that each day of jail is equivalent to 3 dinar, or $1usd... so if he was sentenced to a 1 year, that would only cost $365usd to pay for those days instead of serving them.

Based on the fines prescribed in the penal code and the costs of legal proceedings in the judicial code, there's no way any of the fines or court fees could have total more than $1k for what he was accused of and claims he did. And so I wondered what do lawyers charged. Reached out to a bunch and one responded quickly with her rates.

"Here are our rates for your reference so you could compare. We charge 5000usd for the investigation phase (which may take 14months maximum), and 6000USD for the appeal phase (if any, knowing that the case could be close at the investigation phase), and 7000USD for the cassation phase (if any, knowing that the case could be closed at the investigation or appeal phases). Each visit to the jails is billed at the rate of 180USD."

Based on my understanding of the cassation phase, that's the French court system highest court somewhat similar to us supreme court... the cassation court vacated and pardons people, and its the last resort after a legal battle and for her to litigate, it's only $7k.

If any of the story were real, based on the legal code protocol, he could only have been investigation or appeal phase. And for her to litigate that it was only $11k, not $26k. It's just such flagrant lying and bullshit.

And then she says when he gets out of jail he calls her crying ("probably fake tears," she said) saying he's so happy to be out and see her again. And both him and india both said she's the only person they care about beside their mom's and they've never cared for anyone beside their mom's and she's the only one. Just just gross manipulation.

And then she said he would always play the victim and be like poor me, I'm so poor, you think I'm a bad person, you think I'm a liar and she'd have to be like no no no you aren't, and doubt her own feelings and project positive affirmations to him and feels guilty for doubting him. And then with india she says he's all woe is me, my whole neighborhood hates me because I'm muslim and my dad beats me and I was raped and I'm so disadvantaged. Just such trash.

[sitaarein]

Desi rep

okay so this is partly inspired because of a whole bunch of incredibly, incredibly dumb asks my friend has gotten but it is ALSO, more importantly, because I am sick of the shit I have seen so here, have a not very concise post about what to do and what to avoid if you are writing desi rep (this can also be applied outside of writing I guess??)

If you give a character an Indian name and call it a day, I will actually come and murder you. For starters, India has a whole CULTURE that you have very much decided to ignore and that. is. not. okay. If you can give your white characters all the attention and details and research in the world, you can do the same for your desi characters. Secondly, the word “desi” is used to describe so much more than simply Indian. Wanna know which countries qualify as desi? India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Bhutan, Sri Lanka, and the Maldives. Don’t you even dare assume desi=indian and leave it at that.    

This point ties into what I just said about desi people. Please, I am actually begging you, include more than Indian characters if you want to include south asia in your writing. I am Pakistani and I am so so sick of my identity being erased wherever I look. NOT that I have anything against India or Indians. It is simply the ignorance of people assuming the whole of South Asia is simply India that is supremely horrible to see

 This is based off of personal experience. People actually think that either a) India isn’t a part of Asia or b) there are no countries in South Asia aside from India or c) both of those incredibly ignorant views. And all I can say is: what. the. fuck. Do not do that. Indians are Asians. Pakistanis are Asians. Nepalis are Asians. Bengalis are Asians. Bhutanese are Asians. Sri Lankans are Asians. Maldivians are Asians. If you do not think so, then that is actually just racist of you. Don’t talk to me until you’ve looked at a map.

Another personal point that just.. hurts. Do you know what the Muslim population of the Indian subcontinent is? (The Indian subcontinent is made up of all the countries mentioned above) The answer is: around 600 million. Out of 1.7 billion people, 600 million of them are Muslims. Put into perspective, its not a lot. But the Muslims have a whole separate identity. A separate culture. The whole reason Pakistan even came into existence is because the Muslims of the subcontinent were so fundamentally different. So if you have a desi based country or continent, please, please take a moment to think about the different cultures. 

The above point, but apply it to Sikhs and Brahmins and the numerous identities I do not even know of. They’re all unique. Look them up. Don’t just call a stereotyped culture “Indian” and leave it there.

Speaking of culture: Just. Do your bloody research. Each of the countries in the Indian subcontinent have different national languages, and then INSIDE the country there are multiple dialects based on areas and tribes. Going to take Pakistan as an example: Our national language is Urdu, but the language most commonly spoken by far is Punjabi. So the average Pakistani you meet is almost definitely bilingual, and if they have had an english education, they are almost definitely trilingual. Same goes for all the other countries, I’m sure

Speaking of culture, part 2: there is literally too much to talk about for me to cover it all in one post, so I’m just gonna say: all desi countries are very different to each other, and inside the countries the various provinces are incredibly different. In addition to the changes in language, you’ll also get different staple dishes (even though most the food of the Indian subcontinent are the same in every country, you get some kind of twist that is always uniquely of that country or region or province’s), different folk tales, different poetry and literature, different icons and heroes- the list goes on. So, once more: Do your research.   

I mentioned food briefly in the point above which reminded me of something else: I resent the fact that food that is pretty much native to the whole subcontinent is simply called... Indian. Once again, this is absolutely NOT out of hate for India, it is because that is such a generalization.  Its because by calling it Indian you are effectively dismissing 5 other countries who eat and cook the same food because it belongs to them just as much as it does to the Indians. If you want a general name, call it desi food. 

this point is... less serious than the others, its just something I find fun and could use more of in media. Desi people are obsessed with sports. Like, obsessed. Some of us pretty much breathe cricket. I just think its an interesting fact and pretty much a part of culture at this point, so I’d like to see the stereotypical desi uncle who wouldn’t miss a match for the life of him every once in a while

Back to seriousness. If you even bloody imply that your desi character is violent, I will duct tape you to a chair and make you watch dramatic pakistani dramas on repeat (it won’t be fun, trust me). I have had it with South Asia being portrayed as a terrorist hub. Do not even think of conforming to such a stereotype. I will literally hunt you down and make sure you never, ever even think of doing so ever again. 

Also: If you bloody dare imply that we are, in any way, backward, I will once more carry out the above punishments. Stop. Just stop.

Oh man, talk about the history of the Indian subcontinent. Talk about the heritage. Have you like... seen the architecture????? There’s more than just the Taj Mahal here my dudes. Forget all the “dangerous countries” bullshit. Focus on the brilliance of, well, everything, instead. 

Oh oh speaking of: Have you guys heard of mohenjo daro?? Look it up. There’s some fantasy/mystery potential there. Use it for whatever, it would make my day

Time to talk about geography. So first off: Mountains. So many amazing mountains. Both Everest and K-2 (the tallest and second tallest) are located here. The Himalayas are located here. Pretty amazing, eh? Second off: Deserts. Do you know how many mineral riches are hidden in those? Its amazing. Third off: Rivers. Oh man the rivers. Did you know the Indus river is full of blind dolphins native to the Indus river only? Did you know they’re very very endangered? Find some funds for them while you’re looking up info about them, btw. Also another sea animal native to South Asia which has pretty much been driven out of Pakistan and Myanmar: the gharial. look them up too, seriously. That would be great. Fourth off: The plains. Do you have any idea how fertile our soil is? Because. Its insane. And there’s so much more about the geography and topography of the Indian subcontinent, guys. Look it all up. I’m so sick of vague desert land descriptions for the Indian subcontinent.

Religion. Now this overlaps with culture a lot, since quite a few people choose to define their religion as their culture, but we’re still touching upon it. This is pretty vague, but there are definitely at least over seven. Each comes with its entirely unique practices. Do not even try having a desi character who is Sikh but knows nothing about Sikhism, or Muslim but knows nothing about Islam, because even if they aren’t practicing, they grow up learning about whatever religion their family practices, most of the time. 

If you’re desi, feel free to add on whatever you think is relevant here. If you’re not, shut the fuck up. This is not about you, and it will never be. Feel free to reblog, but kindly keep your comments or opinions to yourself if they are not in agreement with all the above points or promises to be less ignorant.

My inbox is open if you have any questions. Desi people let me know if I said something wrong or offensive and I promise I’ll do my best to correct it

[xbaepsae]

same old mistakes (m)

“But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong.”

[rich boy!hoseok x reader]

genre: country club!au, smut, slightly angsty, some fluff

word count: 12.8k

rating: mature

warnings: sex. lots and lots of unprotected sex lmao (please use protection), slight rough sex, some jealousy, rich prick asshole jung hoseok, mentions of alcohol, language, golf terminology (i’m sorry if it’s wrong idk anything about golf LMAO) oblivious mutual pining lol

a/n: omg this fic absolutely consumed me these last few weeks. i haven’t been able to think about anything else, which is why i haven’t been super active lol. so glad i finished this before the upcoming valentine’s holiday and hobi’s birthday <3 loved writing this so much! rich asshole hoseok has my heart. xoxo

You have never felt more flustered in your life.

It’s the summer after your first year of college, and you decided to come home—to spend a little time with your mother and her new husband. Well, more like she begged you to come home. You actually wanted to visit your roommate’s family on the coast, and spend your days at the beach, but your mother insisted that you come home instead.

Now that you are home, she doesn’t even have time to spend with you. She and her husband are too busy vacationing; that should’ve been you. You can’t even bear to look at your roommate’s Instagram account. And worse of all, your mother signed you up for a job you did not consent to.

“You did what?”

Your mother blinked back at you, feigning innocence. “I heard from Mrs. Lee—you know, our neighbor down the street that attends the local country club—and she said that they were hiring for the summer. You know how rich people love their golf and fancy dinners.”

“And you just decided to volunteer me?” You couldn’t believe her. “I don’t want to work at some prissy country club.”

“Weren’t you just complaining about being broke last week?” She really did not need to expose you like that. “This’ll be good for you, honey.”

Thus, you found yourself standing in front of the country club not even a week later. They hadn’t even asked you to do an interview; you just talked to a manager on the phone and she said for you to just come in. Honestly, too suspiciously easy but what could you do about it? Your mother had been right—you did need the money.

When you arrived, you were immediately whisked away into training. There, one of the girls, Soyoung, fitted you into the uniform—a plain white polo and khaki shorts—and told you what you’d be doing here.

“So, there are a lot of different areas here,” she began, “as you can see from how big this country club is. So, you might find yourself working in different areas occasionally…but for now, you’re going to be on the course with the drink cart.”

Soyoung explained that as the drink cart girl, you’d be driving a golf cart around while handing out beer and other drinks to the golfers on the course. It seemed easy enough, except you’d never driven a golf cart before…or tried to sell people something. However, Soyoung assured you it was easy.

But that was about an hour ago. Since then, a lot has happened. You managed to get the golf cart to work, but it is considerably different from an actual car. The forward/backwards switches were tripping you up. Because of that, you already knocked over a display…or two.

Which leads you to your most embarrassing moment.

For some reason, you forgot that being back in your hometown means the possibility of running into people you went to high school with. The thought just didn’t seem to come to mind. Being off at university has made you forget about all of those idiots you used to be around every day. Until now, when you bump into one of them. Literally.

You really hadn’t seen him behind you; then again, you weren’t looking, which was probably not the greatest idea. But you blindly backed up and hit him. Not that you were going fast or anything, but he did cause an outburst.

“Oh my—fuck! Watch where you’re going!”

Horrified, you press onto the breaks. Turning around, an apology begins to fall from your lips. “I am so sorry. It’s my first time—”

“Y/n?”

You freeze at the voice; it sounds awfully familiar. Blinking a few times, your eyes focus on the person in front of you. And your stomach sinks. Standing in front of you is none other than Jung Hoseok—the last person you ever expected to see again.

He must see the recognition fill your eyes because he instantly smirks. “Wow, it really is you. It’s been a while, huh? Haven’t seen you since graduation.”

An awkward laugh passes through your teeth. “Yeah…it really has.”

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” his smirk seems to widen, and his eyes travel down to your clothes. “You work here or something?”

“Yeah…just started today, actually.”

He nods appreciatively. “Nice. Well, I’m here almost every day, so, I’m sure we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.”

I hope not. “Sure.”

Just as Hoseok opens his mouth to say something else, someone calls his name. He looks away from you, and that’s when you finally allow yourself a moment to look at him. For the first time, you realize how long a year is and how much change can happen in that time frame. Even though it irks you a bit to think about, he looks really good—even in his damn polo and khakis.

You take in the curved slope of his nose, the way his brows are perfectly arched to match his equally perfect eyes. And you’re almost blinded by his pearly white smile. Perhaps, Hoseok has always been attractive—dark, windswept hair and all. You’ve just never wanted to admit it; even after that one—

“Catch you around, y/n,” he suddenly says, and that’s when you realize he’s caught you. He smirks and shoots you a wink as he walks away, leaving you to mentally kick yourself alone.

***

In high school, you and Jung Hoseok were in different crowds. He was preppy and popular—kind of snooty, to be honest—and you were just normal. Not popular, but not a complete wallflower either. Despite not being in the same circles, you both had a few classes together; which meant that you knew each other decently well. At least, you knew enough about Hoseok that you wanted nothing to do with him.

Except for that one, momentarily lapse of judgment, your conscious suddenly reminds you. But you’d rather not think about that right now.

Another thing about Hoseok that you knew of was his background; he came from money—a lot of it, actually. You don’t know exactly what his family does, but they’re those old money types; the kind of rich people that have been rich forever. Which helped to explain his popularity in high school, and how he had a country club membership now.

You wished you knew that before you got the job here.

As you drive around the golf course, feeling more comfortable driving the cart now, you may or may not be on the lookout for Hoseok. Now that you know he’s here, your eyes seem to search for him everywhere. And it’s not because you want to see him; you want to avoid him, if possible.

It’s not until you’re halfway through the course that you see him with a group of other guys, which—to your displeasure—are also people you went to high school with. It’s fitting though, you presume, considering they were all close then as well.

You don’t know anything about golf, but you watch as Hoseok lines up his club to the ball. He swings only once, and the ball flies. You follow where it goes and watch as it hits the grass and rolls right into the hole. His friends cheer for him as he turns around with a smug look on his face. “And that, everyone, is how you fucking do it.”

“Nice, man,” one person—who you recognize as Jeon Jeongguk—says, moving to pat him on the back.

“The motherfucking GOAT,” another—Kim Namjoon—laughs.

“Maybe you should just go pro or something, dude,” the last guy says, and you recognize him as Kim Seokjin. “Because you’ve hit an ace, birdie or eagle at every hole.”

Hoseok laughs at that. “Maybe I’m just lucky today.”

“Dude probably just had good ass last night,” Namjoon smirks. “So, who was it?”

“A gentleman does not kiss and tell, my friend,” Hoseok winks, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at the banter between all of these men. Disgusting. “But if you really want to know…”

“Not you trying to get Hoseok’s sloppy seconds,” Seokjin speaks directly to Namjoon. “Because we all know how that went the first time with—”

“It wasn’t my fault Katie caught feelings,” Hoseok interrupts, walking back towards the rest of his friends. “I told her it was a one-time thing.”

Jeongguk struggles not to laugh as he moves up to line his club and ball. “And then you introduced her to Namjoon.”

“And she used him to get closer to…” Seokjin starts to say, but then he notices you. You’ve never seen someone straighten up so quickly. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“Long enough,” you say as three pairs of eyes turn to look in your direction as well. “Um, drinks?”

“Took you long enough to get here, y/n. I was starting to wonder when you’d arrive,” Hoseok takes a step in your direction, and you watch as the rest of the guys do a double take.

Namjoon is the first to speak, “Ah…y/n. Yes, I remember you…we had chemistry together, right?”

“Oh my gosh, you were in my calculus class!” Jeongguk exclaims, golf club still mid-air.

“I don’t think we had any classes together,” Seokjin says with a pout. “Because if we did, I would’ve remembered you for sure.”

For some reason, you feel your cheeks get hotter. “Um, thanks?”

You can tell they want to say more to you, but Hoseok shoots his friends a look you can’t see, and they close their mouths immediately. Turning back to you, he takes another step close to your golf cart. “A beer for each of us.”

“Aren’t you all underage—”

“No one cares here, y/n,” he cuts you off with a smirk. “Besides, Seokjin’s father owns this country club—we can do whatever the fuck we want.”

Shock passes through you at this news, mouth dropping at the realization that Hoseok and his friends might be more privileged than you originally thought.

“And we don’t usually have to pay for anything, but”—he fishes for something in his pocket— “here.”

You look down at his extended hand, where a crumpled 100-dollar bill sits, and practically gawk at it. Who carries such large bills around so casually? “What—?”

“Keep the change,” he stares you right in the eyes, and you have no other choice but to accept the money.

“Thanks,” you manage to say before reaching around to grab four beers from the cooler.

As each bottle is plucked from your hands, Hoseok is the last person to grab his; and the way his fingers accidentally touch your own seems like no accident at all. Although it was only for a few seconds at most, his touch leaves your skin burning. Burning for what? You don’t know; but it lingers the rest of your shift in a way that is so distracting, you nearly hit someone else with the golf cart.

***

“So let me get this story straight, you saw a guy you fucked for the first time in a year and now you don’t know what to do with yourself. Worst of all, his presence at your new job is going to be the death of you.”

You cringe at your roommates’ words. “God, why do you have to say it like that.”

“I mean, that’s who he is right?” her voice echoes through the screen.

She’s not wrong, but it still doesn’t sit right with you. “When you say it like that, it’s just weird.”

“Y/n, you act like you haven’t fucked other guys before.”

“Yes, but what happened with Jung Hoseok was a mistake,” you breathe. “It was never supposed to happen.”

Her pixilated expression softens upon seeing your clear distress. “I understand, babe. We all do things we regret.”

But it wasn’t that you necessarily regretted sleeping with Hoseok. No, you very much enjoyed it—maybe too much—which is why it was wrong. So fucking wrong. It wasn’t like he coerced you into that bedroom; you willingly followed him inside. And you can’t even blame it on the alcohol because you had been as sober as the day you were born.

It was graduation weekend, and everyone had come out to celebrate. You really didn’t want to go, but some of your friends forced you. Just enjoy the time we still have together, y/n, they had said. Ironic, because you no longer spoke to any of them.

Around the fire, behind the massive patio of someone’s house, drinks were poured and passed around. Even though you held a red solo cup in your hand, the murky liquid didn’t draw you in; you hated the way alcohol tasted back then. Still kind of do. But you simply pretended like you were enjoying yourself.

Every single part of you wanted to leave early that night, but you didn’t. You ended up staying because of Hoseok. It was something about the way he carried himself at that bonfire that night. Before, you never saw him as anything more than a spoiled brat; however, the flames of the fire seemed to soften him before your eyes. Because before you knew it, Hoseok pulled you away from the stares of everyone else.

You don’t even remember what happened—what you two talked about or didn’t talk about. But something happened before he kissed you. Unfortunately, it’s all a blur now.

After swelling your lips with, what seemed like, a thousand kisses, he told you he wanted more; and you told him yes. The memory of him rushing with you through the house and into a vacant room still burns hotly in your mind. You had been giddy with nerves and excitement as he pushed you against the closed door, sucking the air from your lungs.

Hoseok ripped your clothes off with practiced hands, clearly experienced with this, and made you come undone more times than you can recall. Throughout this whole exchange, not much was said; but no words were needed when he could read your body so well.

The both of you ended up falling asleep like that—tangled in each other’s arms. And when you woke up a few hours later to the rising sun, horror filled your veins like a shock of ice.

You left without saying anything. Not that you think he would’ve cared either way. Jung Hoseok seemed like he would be used to stuff like that.

You just never thought you’d see him again one year later.

But here he is.

***

During your next few weeks at the country club, you try your best to avoid Hoseok.

This, however, proves difficult to do since you can hear his laughter echoing everywhere. From the hallways to the range, you can’t seem to escape him at all. And it doesn’t help that his friends all seem to be around too.

Every time you catch even the smallest glimpse of him, you turn in the opposite direction. You aren’t sure if he can tell that you’re avoiding him or not, but you don’t care—you just want to get this summer over with already.

“Y/n!”

Turing in the direction your name is being called, you see Soyoung walking towards you. You offer her a tight smile, hoping she isn’t here to tell you that you’re in trouble or something. “Soyoung. What’s up?”

“Do you mind helping me clean up a little by the pool? I know you just got done on the range, but a girl called out and I could really use the help.” She gives you this sad puppy look, which means you can’t refuse her offer. So, begrudgingly, you follow her back outside.

In the hot summer sun, the large crystal blue pool looks like temptation. Soyoung notices your face and laughs. At her laughter, you realize you’ve never seen the pool this close. You pass by the canopy lined pool lounge every day, but you’re not a maid here or on lifeguard duty so you’ve never had a reason to linger very long.

“Looks inviting, huh?”

All you can do is hum in agreement as you begin helping Soyoung pick up disserted pool towels and throwing them into the hamper. As you’re bending down to retrieve a particularly wet towel on the concrete, the hot sun beating down your back is suddenly gone. You look up and notice there’s a shadow blocking the sun—a suspiciously familiar shadow.

Immediately, your back straightens, and you turn around to face a shirtless Hoseok. His hair is wet from the pool, which means beads of water are cascading down his chest. You try not to stare, but he’s literally so close; there’s nowhere else to look. Your eyes follow the towel in his hand as he begins to dry himself up, going from his abdomen before they travel down to the dark trail of hair that leads to—

You freeze and force your eyes back up, but the smile on his face tells you that you got caught—again.

“Like what you see?” His smile seems to grow wider at your expression.

You scowl. “In your dreams, Jung Hoseok.”

He leans down, face inches from yours, whispering, “If I remember correctly, that dream already came true…one year ago.”

Before you can say anything, he stands back up to his full height and brushes past you—his naked skin burning holes through your clothes. Once he’s a few steps away from you, you realize his friends were also there the whole time. Embarrassment burns your cheeks at what they might’ve thought, but their expressions remain too ambiguous for you to read as they follow their friend.

“I didn’t know you knew Hoseok.”

Your head whips towards Soyoung. “I don’t…I mean, not really. We just went to high school together.”

But your coworker doesn’t seem to buy it. “Really? I’ve been working here for a few summers and those guys have always been around, especially because Seokjin’s dad is the owner. I’ve tried to make small talk with them a few times, but they’re pretty intimidating.”

“They’re pricks,” you tell her. “Typical entitled rich boys.”

“I suppose so,” she hums, throwing the last towel into the bin. “Anyway, can I ask for another favor?”

All you can do is nod. “What?”

“I have another thing I have to do,” Soyoung starts, making you realize she works pretty hard here, “so, can you put these towels in the laundry room? You don’t have to start a load or anything; just leave them and one of the maids will wash them later.”

She slips the laundry room key into your pocket, telling you to give it back to her later, as she rushes off to her next task. Which leaves you to find the laundry room by yourself. After nearly ten minutes of searching, you find it tucked in a small hallway.

Opening the door, you push the dirty towel hamper into the room. You look around and see multiple washers, dryers, and a lot of storage shelves filled with miscellaneous items. You’re so caught up in looking around the room that you almost don’t hear the door close. At the sound of the lock clicking into place, you turn around; immediately, your heart starts beating faster.

“What are you doing in here?”

Hoseok leans against the door, no longer shirtless like before, and smirks at you. “I was following you.”

Like that’s not weird at all. “Stalker much?”

“Just wanted to know why you’ve been avoiding me, that’s all,” he pushes off the door, taking a step closer. You unconsciously take a step back, hitting the hamper.

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lie.

He just blinks at you. “You’re a bad liar, you know that?”

You’re shocked that he can read you so well. “Okay, so what if I am avoiding you? It’s not like you should care. Just leave me alone.”

For a brief moment, something passes over his eyes; but the emotion’s gone before you can think about it. “I don’t think I can do that.”

“What?” Now, it was your turn to blink rapidly.

Hoseok takes another step towards you, severing whatever distance there had been before. His arms move to cage you between himself and the dirty hamper. Slowly, he leans down, making sure not to move his eyes away from yours. “I can’t just leave you alone—not when you’re the only thing on my mind.”

“What are you trying to say—” his hand wrapping around your jaw shuts you up.

“To put it simply, I can’t stop thinking about you—about that night after graduation,” he says, eyes swirling with a darkness you know all too well.

“But that was a year ago,” you manage to say through clenched teeth, and he loosens his grip on you.

His signature smirk lights his lips. “So?”

“I was drunk,” you lie again. “I don’t even remember what happened.”

“So, you’re telling me you don’t remember this?” One hand curves around your hip. “Or this?” Another wraps around your waist. “Or this?” He plants his lips onto your jaw.

You release a harsh breath as the memories of that night come flooding back. Heat begins to pool in your stomach from his touch. As he peppers kisses along your jaw and down your neck, your hands move to fist his shirt. Just as a moan threatens to leave your throat, he pulls away.

Your lips part in indignation at the loss of touch, and Hoseok just smirks even wider. “I thought you said you don’t remember?”

“I’m going to kill you, Jung Hoseok,” your frustration is through the roof.

“Tell me you remember.”

Right now, there are two sides of you fighting. There’s one part of you that wants to tell Hoseok you don’t remember a single thing—that you really had been drinking graduation night. But there’s an even larger part of you that wants him so bad—to feel the same high you felt a year ago.

So, you settle with, “But I’m working right now.”

Hoseok’s eyes turn obsidian as his smirk drops. “I’ll be quick.”

He pulls you away from the hamper and pushes you, stomach first, against one of the washers. Suddenly, you realize what’s about to happen and you try to force the dopey smile off your face by biting your lip. In one swift motion, he unbuttons and pulls both your shorts and panties down to your ankles. By the sudden coolness below, you already know you’re soaking.

And Hoseok must realize this too because you feel him swipe a long finger over your folds. You instinctively jerk back, letting out a moan at the slight pressure. “Hoseok—”

“Fuck, y/n, you’re so wet for me already,” he groans, using a second finger against your wetness. He slowly rubs your clit and you can’t help but tighten your grip against the cool machine. “Wonder if you’ve been wet since we saw each other earlier.”

You roll your eyes. Typical, cocky Jung Hoseok. “Of course not, you douchebag.”

“I beg to differ,” he hums, inserting a single digit inside of you. “So tight—just like I remembered. Tell me, y/n, has anyone else had the pleasure to fuck your pretty pussy after me?”

His words cause you tense for a moment, before replying, “Yes, asshole. I went to college. What do you think?”

“I’m thinking that I’m about to fuck you so good,” he starts and finishes with a whisper, “that you won’t remember any of them.”

If you weren’t already turned on before, you were now. Hoseok continues to fuck with his finger, slowly adding a second one, edging you until you’re a panting mess before him. “S-Stop teasing—I thought you said you were going to be quick?”

“I will be,” he promises, and you can hear him pushing the waistband of his swim trunks down. You’re dying to see his cock again, so you turn and nearly drool at the sight of his angry red tip. For some reason, he looks bigger than you remember and that worries you a little. “What? Think it won’t fit?”

You raise your eyes to look at his, and he has the sexiest expression on his face you’ve ever seen. “No. It fit before, right?”

He licks his lips as he brings his cock close to your entrance, brushing his head back and forth against your clit. You turn back around, arching your back more in hopes that he’ll finally just stick it inside already. But before you can get too lost in the moment, you gasp.

“What’s wrong?” He actually sounds concerned.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask, facing him again. And by the pained expression on his face, he doesn’t. You let out a frustrated groan at getting all worked up for nothing. You’re about to reach down for your panties when he pushes you back into place. “What?”

“Are you on the pill?”

“Yes,” you answer, “but the pill is only—”

“I’ll pull out,” he says. “And I’m clean, I swear.”

You look into his eyes and seeing the desperation in them makes you want to indulge him. “I’m clean too.”

Hoseok breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank fucking god.”

“You better pull out, or I swear Jung—”

You fail to get the rest of your words out because he slams his cock into you. And you’re right—he is bigger than you remember. He bottoms out at your cervix and you feel like a mess already. You both moan at the feeling of being connected like this again, after so long, and Hoseok keeps his promise and wastes no time.

He thrusts into you hard and fast, leaving you to do nothing but take everything he has to give. “Fuck, Hoseok—oh my god.”

Earlier, he talked about fucking your past sexual exploits out of you, but there was no need to mention anything at all; no one compares to him. They never had a chance.

“Shit, you feel so good wrapped around me,” he groans, digging his fingers into your hips.

And soon enough, you feel your orgasm approaching. It’s slow building, but it’s there and you want it. You figure you’ll just chase it yourself. Reaching a hand down, you find your clit and begin rubbing it. But just as soon as you feel yourself get closer to the high you desire, your hand is ripped away.

There is a sudden weight on your back as Hoseok whispers in your ear, “That’s my job, sweetheart.”

His fingers find your sensitive nub and you come immediately, screaming a string of curses into your arms in hopes that no one hears you. As you ride your high, you feel him pull out. With a groan, his cum spills all over your ass.

As you try to catch your breath and calm your erratic heart, you feel Hoseok pull his shorts back up and take a step back. All of the sudden, a strange feeling builds up in your chest. Is this what loss feels like? But you don’t have much time to dwell on your own thoughts because you feel a towel wiping your body.

You turn and see Hoseok cleaning the mess he made; but instead of looking down, he’s looking right at you.

“What?” you ask, sounding defensive.

“Nothing,” he says, and you hate that you can’t read people well. You wish you could know what he’s thinking right now.

After he cleans between your thighs, you pull your clothes back up your body. You still have a few hours left of your shift, so you hope you don’t look too much like a mess right now. Pulling your hair into a low ponytail, you feel awkwardness hit you like a truck. What are you supposed to say now?

“Uh…I have to go,” you can’t even look at him. “We have a meeting this afternoon…”

You don’t have a meeting, but you don’t know what else to say. But unlike you, Hoseok can take a hint and nods. “I’ll leave first…see you around…and thanks.”

He stares at you for a moment longer before leaving the room. You look out to make sure he’s a considerable distance away before you follow, ducking into the bathroom to check your appearance. Once you look into the mirror, you barely recognize the person you’re seeing.

The girl in front of you has flushed cheeks and sweaty hair.

You spend the rest of your shift daydreaming about what happened. In all honesty, your body aches in the best possible way. And even after your shift, once you get home and lay in your bed, you’re still thinking about everything.

Did you really willingly have sex with Jung Hoseok a second time? Once is a mistake, twice clearly means there was choice involved. What would your roomie say if she knew? You don’t plan on telling her—at least, not until you get back to school. If she knew you had succumbed to his charms this early in the summer, she’d chew you out for sure. Besides, you won’t let it happen again.

There will be no more slip ups this summer.

***

“Oh, fuck—yes. Right there…!”

You cling to the shelf as Hoseok fucks you from behind. Your legs feel impossibly weak from being in such an uncomfortable position, but you couldn’t care less right now—you just want to come.

“Don’t be so loud, sweetheart,” he groans through clenched teeth. “Don’t want to get caught now, do we?”

“N-No…but if you d-don’t make me c-come quicker, Hoseok…” you moan, and he proceeds to thrust faster. You don’t want to scream, but it just feels so fucking good for you not to. “I’m going to—”

Hoseok clamps a hand over your mouth as you come undone. Your eyes shut on their own accord as you scream into his hand, body shaking from the impact of your orgasm. He curses, probably from how tight you’re gripping his cock, but continues to thrust a few more times before pulling out and painting you in strings of milky white.

Once your body shops shaking, he pulls you up and presses a kiss onto your exposed shoulder. “You’re amazing.”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Thanks.”

The two of you quickly clean up and readjust your clothes. You’re supposed to be organizing after all—at the place you are working at for the summer—not fucking an old high school classmate. Hoseok leaves with a promise of finding you later, and you’re left alone with your thoughts again.

What just happened?

You really did mean it when you said that you didn’t want to have sex with Hoseok again, but here you are anyway. It’s already been a month since the first incident, and you’ve been sneaking quickies around the entire country club with Hoseok.

Every time you think you’re alone, he manages to find you and that infuriating smirk makes you helpless. You’ve lost track of how many times he’s already managed to make your panties drop. But even though he seeks you out for sex, every now and then he sticks around to have a conversation with you.

You feel your resolve crumbling away every time you get a glimpse of the human Hoseok.

“So, what are you studying in school?” he asked one day, settling beside you on the floor of the laundry room.

“Is it bad that I’m undecided?” You tried to laugh it off, but the sober expression on his face stopped you.

He shook his head. “No, you have time.”

And just like, all felt okay in the world.

“What about you?” you managed to ask.

The scrunch of his nose had been nearly undetectable, but you noticed it. “Business. My father wants me to take over the company one day.”

“And you don’t?” the question slipped past your lips without a second thought. You’d been horrified.

“I don’t mind business, but I don’t want my father’s. I’d rather start my own.”

This truth had been rather insightful, and you couldn’t help but change the way you looked at Hoseok—only a little though. You still thought he was an asshole.

After another moment pondering your idiocy, you go back to whatever you were doing before. Just as you place the last shampoo bottle on the rack, a knock sounds on the door. You jump, wondering if it’s Hoseok again; but when it opens, it’s just Soyoung. “Hey—you’ve been in here for a while. Almost done?”

If only she knew.

“Uh, yeah. Actually, just finished,” you try to smile. “Got a little distracted in here, I guess.” A little more than distracted.

Soyoung offers an understanding expression. “Feel that. These storage rooms can be a bit overwhelming.”

“Did you need something?” you ask, changing the conversation.

“I actually bring word from our manager. You don’t work tomorrow night, right?” Tomorrow is Saturday and one of the few days you actually have off this week. You’re dreading what Soyoung is about to tell you. “She asked if you could come in for a few hours—just to help with dinner. They’re expecting a big crowd tomorrow night since there’s a fundraiser happening during the day. It’ll be like three hours max.”

You think about it for a moment, rolling your lips between your teeth. Honestly, you don’t want to come in on your day off—who wants to work when they don’t have to—but three hours doesn’t sound so bad.

“Just three hours?”

Soyoung nods. “Just three hours. I’ll be helping with the dinner too, so we’ll get to work together. And afterwards, we can go to a party, if you want.”

That piques your interest, even though you aren’t one to go out often. “What party?”

“There’s a few houses on this property—they’re rented out to people who want to stay at the country club for an extended amount of time. And I heard from some of the other employees that a party is being hosted at one of the houses. Anyone and everyone is invited—even us.”

For some reason, you actually want to go to this party. Why? Maybe you just want to forget about Jung Hoseok’s charismatic smirk. A party should be a good distraction. So, you tell Soyoung that you’ll come work tomorrow and attend the party with her.

And the girl gives you hug, promising that it’ll be loads of fun.

You hope she’s right.

***

The next night, you arrive to work in a different version of your uniform. Instead of the usual polo and shorts the country club has you normally donned in, you’re wearing a long sleeve button up and black slacks. In your bag, you brought a change of clothes for later. Thankfully, you remembered to grab it on your way out. Imagine having to wear your server uniform to a party.

That would’ve been a social suicide.

You meet up with Soyoung for a few minutes before the dinner staff collects you all together. They debrief about tonight’s expectations and everyone’s roles. Next, they list all the jobs and when they call your name, you find out you’re going to be taking orders.

“Do I also need to bring the food out?” you ask.

One of the leaders shakes their head. “No, we’ll have people specifically there for that.”

After all the roles are established, dinner officially begins and you try not to look dumbstruck when you walk into the formal dining hall. This is the first time you’ve been in this room and it’s absolutely magnificent. You continue staring around for a moment before walking towards your section of the room—a row of tables by the window overlooking the setting sun.

You proceed taking orders from the first table—a family of four—and then the next—a group of six—before walking to a table that only seats two people. Probably a date. You barely look at the couple as you push a strand of loose hair behind your ear and pull out the notepad.

“Can I take your orders?” you ask, click your pen.

“Yes,” says a nasally voice to your right. You follow it, meeting the profile of a gorgeous girl. Long, silky hair drapes down her back in waterfalls and she’s wearing a tight pink dress. You think that she’ll turn her attention to you, but she doesn’t; she keeps staring at her date. “I’ll have the ratatouille. What about you, Hobi?”

Hobi? “I told you not to call me that, Nina.”

She pouts. “But you let me call you that when we were kids.”

“Yeah, we were kids then.”

You spare a look at Nina’s date and nearly falter when you realize who this Hobi is. It’s none other than Jung Hoseok himself. He’s wearing a fitted charcoal suit, hair slicked back slightly. Even from this view, you can tell his suit is expensive; definitely imported and tailored fitted to his body. Still, you can feel yourself salivating. The man looks like absolute sin, and you feel a sudden flash of jealousy because he’s on a date with someone else—someone he seems to know pretty well.

But you realize you have no right to feel that emotion at all. He’s not yours to have. You both just happen to be sexually compatible. That is all. You two never talked about being exclusive. He is allowed to see other girls, even though the thought makes you feel a little sick.

Hoseok brings his eyes to yours, flashing you a smirk that has your knees weak. “Y/n.”

“You two know each other?” Nina asks, but your eyes don’t move from his.

“A little,” he says. That’s an understatement.

“We just went to high school together,” you add, playing along with his little game. “We weren’t friends though, just happened to be in a few classes together.”

Hoseok feigns hurt, bringing a hand up to his chest. “Can’t believe you think so little of me.”

“Oh, Hobi,” Nina interjects, her hand finding his on top of the table. You zone in on the touch, blood pressure rising when you realize he hasn’t pushed her away.

You try not to roll your eyes. “Yes, poor Hobi.”

When you turn back to him, he’s already looking at you. You stiffen for a second, wondering if his eyes have been on you this whole time. And by the scathing sensation you feel on the side of your head—Nina’s eyes, no doubt—you realize he probably has. “Um. Anyway, what did you want?”

He smirks again. “I’ll have the same, y/n.”

You quickly jot it down and excuse yourself before you start thinking too much.

The rest of your short shift, you make sure not to walk by Hoseok’s table again. Whenever you’re around him, you can’t think properly. He always seems to cloud your best judgment, which is why you’ve already been fucking him this summer. You allow work to consume you, which makes the time fly by. Before you know it, the three hours is already up and you’re headed to the bathroom with Soyoung.

“See? Wasn’t that bad, huh?” she asks from the cubicle beside you.

It was terrible. “Could’ve been worse, I guess.”

“I’m so excited about the party,” Soyoung changes the conversation. “It’s been so long since I’ve had a night out.”

You can’t help the next words that bubble out of you. “Why do you overwork yourself?”

Honestly, you didn’t mean to ask. After all, it isn’t your business to ask such questions anyway. Sure, you were curious about Soyoung but it’s not your place. You’ve been really testing boundaries recently.

“It just kind of happens,” she answers, which shocks you. Not the answer itself, but the fact that she even answered you at all. “I’ve been working here for so long, I guess I just can’t help it.”

“Well,” you sigh, “don’t overwork yourself. Live a little, you know.”

Soyoung laughs. “I’ll try.”

You step out of the stall first, moving to stand in front of the full-length mirror. Tonight, you opted for a flowy crop top and tight skirt. Not something you’d usually wear, but tonight’s different than most nights—you want to enjoy yourself. You pull your hair out of its tight pony, humming in pleasure at the sensation of your hair being free.

“Okay, I see you with the sexy hair.”

You didn’t even hear Soyoung’s stall unlocking or opening. Turning in her direction, you see she’s wearing something similar to you. Only, both her top and skirt are flowy. “More like messy hair.”

She laughs. “It looks good still.”

After running a hand through your hair a few times, and fixing your makeup, the two of you throw your bags into your respective vehicles and walk across the country club’s property. Not even five minutes later, you can hear music playing. Across the distance, you can see a massive house—no, villa—lit up with lights and people all over the place.

“Woah,” you breathe.

“Right?” Soyoung chuckles. “I told you this party was going to be it.”

“I thought you said it was going to be a house party.”

“It is?” She seems confused.

You shake your head. “Are all the houses on the country club property this big?”

Even in the dim lighting, you can see her nod. “I think so. Maybe not this big, but they’re all large enough to house multiple people.”

Damn. You wonder who’s renting this place for the summer. It’s huge, so there must be more than one person; maybe a family? Though, that seems odd since a party filled with young people is happening right now. However, you can���t even begin to fathom how much it costs to rent. How can anyone actually afford that?

But all thoughts of money fade when you actually reach the villa. You assume there’s mainly college-aged people here, though it’s difficult to tell age these days. Soyoung leads the way as you two maneuver past groups of people and into the villa itself. Once inside, you have to force yourself not to gawk at everything.

Grand doesn’t even begin to describe the interior. There’s so much to look at and before you can even begin to look at everything, Soyoung pulls you away. She finds the kitchen and hands you a drink from the cooler. You remove the lid and begin sipping, tasting the slight bitterness of alcohol on your tongue.

“So what do we do now?” You’re acting like such a noob.

Soyoung slants a look at you. “We mingle, maybe dance a little. Do you like dancing?”

You bite the inside of your lip. “Umm, kind of?”

Of course, you’ve been to your fair share of college parties—where dancing and drinking do not mix well. But you don’t mind it; you just don’t think you’re very good. You voice this thought out loud and Soyoung rolls her eyes.

“You don’t have to be good at dancing. You just have to do it. Usually, it comes naturally.”

You aren’t too sure about that statement. But as Soyoung pulls you in a new direction, away from the kitchen, you realize that you have no choice. In another large room adjacent to the kitchen, someone has started a makeshift dancefloor. The bass is booming against the wall and strobe lights illuminate the room.

Even though you’re struggling, Soyoung pulls you both into the middle of the room and spins you around to the music. “I can’t.”

“Sure you can,” she shouts over the music, proceeding to move her body dramatically. You can’t help but laugh. Shaking your head, you realize dancing really isn’t a big deal and you allow Soyoung to move you to the beat. And eventually, you can do it by yourself.

You close your eyes as you sway to the music, occasionally bumping into Soyoung on purpose. It even gets to the point where you feel comfortable enough to lift your arms into the air, which is something you’d never thought you’d do.

It’s not until a few songs later that you finally open your eyes. And when you do, you immediately meet his gaze.

A jolt of electricity goes up your spine at the look Jung Hoseok is giving you right now. He’s leaning against the fireplace in the room across from you, changed out of that expensive suit he was wearing earlier. Now, he’s only wearing the white button up—sleeves rolled to his elbows—and a pair of navy-blue shorts. In his hand he nurses a beer, and that’s when you realize he’s still with that girl from earlier.

You try to keep your expression neutral as you stare at them; but by the way Hoseok’s hard gaze morphs into something smugger, you know you’re doing a bad job at concealing your feelings.

Dammit.

You quickly whisper something to Soyoung about needing some air as you look for the nearest exit. Unfortunately, you don’t know your way around the house. You meander around for a moment before you find a door that leads to the backyard. Breathing a sigh of relief, you open the door and walk into the cool summer night.

There’s a pathway of rocks that leads to the dock of a body of water—a body of water that you didn’t even know existed. You aren’t sure what to call it; a large pond? Whatever it is, you take the pathway until you reach the end of the dock. There, you settle on the edge and stare at the murky depths.

Bodies of water like this were unpredictable. You had no idea how deep it actually was. It could seem shallow, but in actuality be sixty feet deep. For a second, you consider dipping your toes in; however, you decide against it. Who knows what’s in there?

You allow the echoes of cicadas and other small insects to fill your senses. Eventually, you even lay down on the dock and close your eyes, trying not to think too much about—

“What are you doing?”

Your eyes flash open. And as they adjust to the night, you make out Hoseok’s infuriating perfect face. He’s leaning over you, and it pisses you off that he looks good even from this obscene angle. “Go away.”

“Well, aren’t you grumpy,” he hums. “It seemed like you were having a great time shaking you’re a—”

“Hoseok,” you breathe. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to play your stupid games right now.”

He cracks a rare half-smile. “Who said anything about playing games?”

When you don’t answer him, Hoseok’s smile falls and he frowns. You don’t care what else he has to say; you really meant it when you said you’re not in the mood for him right now. However, the boy doesn’t seem to take the hint like he usually does. Because he settles right beside you on the dock, laying down so he’s now eye-level with you.

“You’re insufferable,” you roll your eyes, shifting away from him.

“That’s what you like about me.”

“Who said I liked you?”

“I think your actions speak louder than you think,” he says, sounding awfully calm right now, which is very unlike him. You have no other choice but to look at him. And when you do, your breath gets caught in your throat. Even in the darkness, his eyes seem to sparkle as he looks at you—so fucking intently like he’s seeing you for the first time.

You don’t like it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you force your eyes away, but his stare burns your skin anyway.

“You were jealous at dinner, weren’t you?”

The scoff that leaves your lips sounds beyond bitter. “No, of course not. Why would I be?”

“If you were jealous,” Hoseok begins, which makes your stomach churn, “don’t be.”

“Huh?” you ask, still not able to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he repeats. “Don’t be jealous of Nina.”

“I wasn’t jealous of—”

He cuts you off. “Don’t be jealous of her. She’s just a family friend.”

“But you two seem so close…”

Hoseok laughs. “I just entertain her because our parents have been friends forever. I’m pretty sure they want me to marry someone like her. I mean, she’s hot”—you suck in a breath— “but she’s not you.”

Your eyes finally give him and meet his, and he’s still staring at you. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

As you both look at each other, you expect him to say something. But he never does. Instead, he scoots a few inches closer to you—so close your noses are almost touching—and runs his fingers through your hair. Weaving his digits through your still messy hair, he pulls your head towards his and your lips meet.

And underneath the moonlight, you allow Hoseok to kiss you until your head is dizzy and you have no choice but to let him consume you again.

***

The next morning, you find yourself wrapped in pristine white sheets that feel like silk beneath your fingers. But that’s not the only thing you’re wrapped in. A heavy arm is slumped over your waist and the body heat emanating from him sets yourself ablaze.

Last night, after Hoseok bruised your mouth and skin with his lips at the dock, you asked him why he was at the party.

“This is my house,” he said so casually, like it wasn’t a big deal at all. Your eyes bulged out of their sockets. “Well, my house for the summer at least.”

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

He nodded. “Our actual house is in the city, and I hate driving back and forth so much—especially since I’m here with the guys nearly every day. So, my parents decided to rent this.”

You didn’t know what to say. But you realized there was nothing that needed to be said because since this is where he was staying, it meant his bedroom was here too. You let him walk you back to the villa and up the stairs into his room, to which you had to text Soyoung and let her know you were headed home early. A lie. You told her you felt sick. Another lie. But she didn’t seem to mind. She had found a few other employees of the country club there and would walk back with them.

After losing track of how many orgasms he gave you, youth both shared a bottle of vodka he had stashed underneath his bed. And tipsy you had no inhibitions.

Every question Hoseok asked, you answered honestly.

“Favorite color?”

“Red.”

“Do you like working at the country club?”

“It’s a job.”

“If you could do anything in the world, what would it be?”

“Spend my life away on some island.”

He laughed. “Really?”

“Island life s-seems fun. It’s relaxing. You don’t have to worry about anything,” you slightly slurred your words. “You?”

“I think island life seems to be the move now.”

You both talked so much. About anything and everything. It reminded you so much of the first time you really spoke to him. Moments like this made Hoseok feel normal, which you don’t know how to feel about yet.

But one thing you realized you did enjoy was his laugh—his real laugh. Not the one he smirked with, but the one he gave when he thought no one else was watching.

You must’ve said something stupid—you honestly can’t recall it now—but when he doubled over in laughter, it was infectious.

The good thing is that you don’t have work today, which means you don’t have to rush anywhere. But you have a feeling that you’ve overstayed your welcome. You didn’t even mean to stay the night, but you’d been so comfortable in Hoseok’s bed that you fell asleep after all the conversations. It was probably the best sleep you’ve ever had.

You’re going to give the credit to Hoseok’s expensive mattress, and definitely not him.

Though, you can’t deny how good it feels to have him spooning you. A part of you wants to stay in this bed forever, but that’s crazy talk—you shouldn’t have come into the bed with him at all. You keep telling yourself—over and over again—that you don’t want to fuck him again.

But you’ve been such a liar.

Now, you’ve accepted the fact that you can’t resist him. You know it’s just sex, but you didn’t want to get involved with him in the first place.

You take in a few breaths as you try to move his arm off of you. Hoseok shifts a little, and you risk a look over your shoulder. When your eyes take in his face, your heart stutters for a moment. With his mouth slightly parted and eyes still firmly closed, you realize that he looks so peaceful asleep. So vulnerable. You have to force yourself from touching him.

What the fuck, y/n?

Turning back around, you gently pry his arm off of you and pray that you don’t wake him. But all your careful maneuvering proves to be futile because his arm releases from your grip and moves back down to your waist. With a squeal, Hoseok pulls you back on his chest.

“Where do you think you’re going?” God, his morning voice is so hot.

“Um, leaving?” you sound like an idiot.

“Stay,” he breathes against the back of your head.

You want to. You really, really want to. “I can’t.”

“Why not?” he asks, snaking his arms underneath the covers to find you—skin still bare from last night’s activities. Your breath hitches as his fingers trail across your skin, each touch feeling like sparks.

“I-I have somewhere I have to be,” you stutter as his rough hand wraps around one of your breasts, squeezing tight. Your nipple hardens immediately.

Hoseok slips the covers off your body, exposing you to the cool air-conditioned room. And without warning, he moves on top of you and begins trailing his lips over your body. You notice that he makes sure to suck those bruises he left scattered across your skin extra hard, purpling them even more.

“Hoseok,” you try not to moan. “I really have t-to—”

His lips crashing onto yours shuts you up. You kiss him back forcefully, nipping his lips with your teeth and running your tongue across his. As you two battle it out, he settles in-between your thighs. Bringing a hand down your abdomen, it slides straight to your cunt—which is already drenched.

He hisses against your lips. “So fucking wet. Thought you had to go?”

“Shut up,” you moan as he runs a finger from your ass to your clit, swirling your juices everywhere. Involuntarily, your hips buck up when he slides a finger inside of you. He gently fucks you like that for a moment, leaving you writhing underneath him. “More, Hoseok—I need more.”

A wicked smile erupts on his face. “Are you going to beg for it?”

An incredulous expression lights your face. You’ve never begged in bed before, and you aren’t going to start now. However, the man on top of you is sure getting a kick out of this. Hoseok moves his finger slowly out of you, which agitates you to no end. If you weren’t so horny right now, you’d kill him.

“No,” you narrow your eyes, not willing to give in.

His finger stops moving. “A shame, really.”

You freeze. “What the fuck, Jung Hoseok?”

“I’m not doing anything until you say please,” he smirks, moving his upper body away from you.

Even though you’re pissed, you can’t help but drink in the Adonis in front of you. Like you, Hoseok is completely naked. Your eyes rake his defined muscles and his thick cock that’s already unbelievably hard. He’s hard for you. The fact that you turn him on makes you feel good—too good.

“Fine,” you shrug, and his smirk falls. “Just get blue balls then.”

As his body goes slack for a moment, you use the opportunity to slip from the bed. But you don’t manage to get very far at all. You probably only take three steps before his arm wraps around you and pulls you back to the bed.

You fall on your back, and Hoseok pins your arms on either side to keep you from moving. Still, you squirm—heart drumming in your chest at the look on his face. His eyes have turned black, and he looks like he wants to devour you. “I’m not begging.”

“We’ll see about that.”

With your arms still pinned, Hoseok lowers his body and your legs spread on their own accord. Fuck you, body. The movement makes him chuckle darkly and he begins peppering kisses along your thigh. Your breath hitches in your throat, which turns into a gasp when he suddenly bites down on your flesh. Not hard enough to draw blood, but it’s enough to be painful.

And as much as you hate to admit it, you like it very much.

Hoseok continues alternating between kissing and biting your thighs until you’re one-hundred-percent positive there is a pool of your wetness on the bed. You know what he’s trying to do and it’s working, but you don’t want to give in. And then he’s so close to your pussy, not even an inch away. You can feel his breath fanning you there. If you just move your hips a little…

“Don’t even think about it,” he moves his head away.

You release a groan of frustration. “Oh my god.”

“If you just say the magic word,” he taunts, lips now on your stomach. He moves low, but never low enough; never where you want him to go.

When he moves up your body, pressing chaste kisses on your nipples before latching his lips on your neck, you release a breathy moan. Hoseok lets out a groan from the back of his throat, hands tightening around your wrists. Fuck, why are the noises he makes even attractive? “Hoseok…”

“Y/n,” he’s still sucking on your neck.

This position, you realize, aligns him perfectly with your body. Again, if you were able to move just a little bit…but Hoseok’s weighing you down with his body, not allowing you to move at all.

“Hoseok,” you say his name again, but he doesn’t respond—he just moves his lips to your ear, nibbling on the sensitive flesh there. And that’s when you crumble. You can’t take it anymore. “Please…please just fuck me already.”

Simultaneously, he curses into your ear as he slides his cock into you. Too perfect—the way he fills you up is too perfect.

You expect Hoseok to fuck you hard, hips slamming into you, but he doesn’t. His thrusts are slow, but the way he hits your cervix has you nearly in tears. Fuck. He releases the hold on your wrists to grip onto either side of your face. With lips ghosting over yours, you tangle your hands into his dark hair.

Your breaths mesh together as he continues to fuck you with slow, measured thrusts. You’ve grown accustomed to the rough way Hoseok likes to fuck; but for some reason, you love this so much more. It’s intimate and makes your chest tighten in a strange way but feels so good you don’t want it to stop.

“Please,” you whisper against his lips again.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, rolling his hips in a way that has you arching off the bed. Yes.

“Just like t-that,” you say, slanting your mouth to mold against his again.

Your orgasm comes without warning; you moan into Hoseok’s mouth, gripping him closer to you and you ride your high. Through the haze of your earth-shattering orgasm, you hear Hoseok ask if he can come inside you. He’s always pulled out—even last night when he fucked you for hours. But right now you don’t care, and your answer comes in the form of your legs wrapping around his hips.

He kisses you hard and comes inside you a moment later. You’ve never let anyone else come raw inside of you; never trusted anyone else that much. And in that moment, a terrifying thought flashes across your mind.

I’m in love you.

The thought comes so suddenly, burns your brain so hotly, your body stills. Hoseok finally lifts off of you, eyes crinkling in concern. “You okay?”

You quickly try to shake the feeling away. “Um, yeah.”

“You sure? Should I not have come inside you?” he slips out of you, and for some reason you want to cry at the sudden emptiness you feel. “You’re looking pale right now.”

“No, it was fine,” you blink too fast, feeling tears begin to well in your eyes. Get a fucking grip on yourself. “I’m sorry, I really have to go.”

Hoseok doesn’t try to stop you this time when you move away from the bed. You find your clothes on the floor and slip everything back on without looking at him, even though you can feel his gaze on you the entire time. Not bothering to check your appearance, you grab your stuff and move towards his door.

“Y/n,” he calls your name, voice sounding strange, but you don’t want to look at him. If you look at him, you’re going to start crying. And that’s too embarrassing to explain.

You slip out of his bedroom and take the stairs two at a time. As you rush down, you run into someone. “Sorry—”

Looking up, you realize it’s Seokjin; he must’ve stayed the night. Even in your distress, you feel feverish wondering if you were too loud. However, he takes one look at you and stares like he has you all figured out. Your heart threatens to beat out of your chest.

“Did something happen…?” he asks, looking at the door you just left wide open upstairs.

“Don’t worry about it,” you quickly say, adverting your eyes and sidestepping him.

This morning, it’s much easier to find the front door. Just as you’re about to slip out, you hear your name being called again, heavy steps thundering down the stairs. Shit, shit, shit. You break into a run and don’t stop until you have no more air to spare in your lungs. Thankfully, you’re far enough from the villa and close to the country club.

Only then do you allow yourself to fall into the grass as the tears finally cascade down your cheeks.

You’re a fool, you realize. A fool to have fallen in love with someone like Jung Hoseok. Someone who will never feel the same way. Someone who just uses you for a good time. someone who you barely even know. Someone you never wanted to get involved with.

***

You call out of work the next week, claiming to have the stomach bug. But you don’t have the stomach bug; in fact, you’re not even physically ill at all. You just can’t bear the thought of running into Hoseok at the country club.

On the first day, you listen to your sad girl hours playlist on repeat.

During your second day of moping in bed, you half consider quitting your job. Would it be too cowardly? Maybe. Unfortunately, there’s only a few weeks left of summer and you doubt that you’ll be able to find another job.

When the third day arrives, you finally get out of bed and take a proper shower. You didn’t realize how much you needed it.

Your mom knocks on your door on the fourth day. You only know it’s her by the way she taps on your door rhythmically; she’s always done that ever since you were a child. When you don’t respond, she dares to crack the door open. Shit, you forgot to lock it last night.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

You don’t move on the bed, hoping your mother thinks you’re asleep or something. But despite you not moving, she still shuffles into your room and settles herself on the edge of the bed.

“Is this because I haven’t been spending time with you this summer?”

No, mom. It’s me. I fucked up. Although, I would appreciate it if you did spend time with me—like you dragged me here this summer to do.

“I’m really sorry, love,” she whispers, getting up after a moment.

Once you’re sure she’s by the door, you finally open your mouth. “It’s not because of you. It’s…something else.”

You hear her grab onto the door, but she doesn’t say another word before leaving you all alone again.

On the fifth day, the bruises that littered your skin finally start fading. Glancing into the mirror of your bathroom, you run your fingers along the—now greenish-yellow—hickies he left on your neck. Goodness, there were so many. And annoyingly enough, you can still feel exactly where he had touched you—like his hands are still there right now.

Pulling your t-shirt down, you see more evidence of Hoseok’s assault on your chest. You have to stop yourself from looking at the rest of your body.

The sixth day you, finally, spend time pondering that terrifying thought you had about Hoseok. Are you actually in love with him? Do you even know what love feels like? What even is love? You’ve always been an overthinker, and these questions only make your head spin more. But after hours and hours of teetering the files of your brain, you do know one thing.

You like him.

You like Hoseok a lot.

It might not be love—perhaps that had been your sex-brain talking—but you were definitely starting to fall for him. You don’t know when or where the change happened, or maybe you’ve always liked him, but it feels good to finally admit the truth to yourself.

Now, the real challenge was if you would tell him.

Would it be worth it?

***

“Y/n, I seriously thought you’d quit!”

Soyoung is the first person you run into on your first day back. You just thank god it’s her and not someone else. You flash her a quick smile and greeting. “Hey.”

“What happened to you?” she asks, walking beside you down the hall.

“Stomach bug,” the lie passes surprisingly easily through your lips. Good thing you had enough time to practice saying those words out loud.

Soyoung makes a face. “That must’ve been awful, but I’m glad you’re well enough to be here.”

“Yeah, totally.”

She leaves you at the golf cart and you get into the seat with a sigh. Over the month and whatever weeks you’ve been here, driving the cart now feels like second nature. You no longer bump into displays or people.

As you drive around the green, you make a stop at every hole and offer the players drinks. At the beginning of summer, you’d been a little apprehensive about this job. However, it turns out, working as the drink cart girl isn’t half bad. The tips you make are worth being out in the scorching summer sun.

Towards the end of your round, you feel your nerves twist. You’re relieved that you haven’t seen Hoseok; then again, a part of you is worried. Why isn’t he here? He’s always here. Every single time you’ve driven on the range, he’s been here.

Where is he today?

Soon, you realize that you didn’t need to worry at all.

At the last hole, you see him—well, them. Hoseok, Seokjin, Namjoon, and Jeongguk are together, like they always seem to be. Inseparable. For a second, you think about skipping them, but then you overhear their conversation.

“Damn, Hoseok,” Jeongguk whistles, leaning against his club, “this is the worst game you’ve ever played.”

“He played worse than Namjoon,” Seokjin snickers.

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “I’m not that bad.”

“You lack coordination,” Seokjin explains to his friend, as if that was supposed to make the burn better. “And Hoseok usually always wins.”

“Now that I’m thinking about it, he hasn’t played well all week,” Jeongguk twists his lips.

“Dude probably hasn’t had ass in a week,” Namjoon comments.

“I’m right fucking here, assholes.”

You finally allow your eyes to settle on the man of the hour. Like his friends have suggested, he does seem off today. Normally, the Jung Hoseok you know is easy going, laid back. He’s usually cocky and charismatic. Every time you’ve seen him play golf, he’s amazing. He always swings with blind sureness—like he knows the ball will hit green. But the man you’re looking at right now is beyond tense and agitated.

“You’re no fun today,” Jeongguk pouts.

“He hasn’t been fun all week,” Seokjin rolls his eyes. “Not since the house party.”

Your hands stiffen on wheel. Hoseok’s been in a mood for a whole week? You try to find the answer to your own question in his eyes, but he hasn’t looked in your direction yet. In fact, none of them seem to realize you’re close. They all seem to be thrown off their usual balance. That obvious fact makes you realize you should probably just skip them. But as you lift your foot to press the gas pedal, Seokjin notices you.

Damn. Why is he always the first one to see you?

His eyes widen at your appearance. “Just the girl I was thinking about.”

That statement draws everyone else from their stupor and towards you. You watch as Jeongguk and Namjoon’s eyes also widen, but the only pairs of eyes you really care about right now can’t even meet yours. Hoseok shoots you a glance before twisting away, jaw hardened. Ouch. You feel a pang in your chest.

For some reason, his dismissal hurts more than anything else right now.

“Glad you finally arrived,” Seokjin continues talking, walking closer to you. “I was wondering when you’d come.”

It was weird to have Seokjin speak so much to you. The only person you ever really spoke to was Hoseok, but it seems like he’s the last person who wants to talk to you right now. Maybe coming into work was a bad idea.

“I think you should talk to him,” he says, and it was your turn to have wide eyes.

“I don’t know…” What could you even say to him? You don’t know where to begin because you don’t know what kind of relationship you have with Hoseok. Did you want a relationship with him? Did he even feel the same way?

“He’s been a fucking wreck all week because of you, you know?”

Your chest hurts. “Really?”

Seokjin nods. “I mean, the guy’s always a pain in the ass…” he rolls his eyes, “but it’s worse now.”

Maybe you hadn’t been the only one suffering this past week. As horrible as it sounds, the thought makes you feel…hopeful.

“We’ll take your cart back and cover for you, if you want.”

You stare at Seokjin and find yourself nodding. “Okay.”

He calls Jeongguk and Namjoon over, asking you to get out of the cart. “Don’t worry—we won’t steal your money.”

It’s a joke. You know it’s a joke. Still, you can’t help the next that slip past your lips unconsciously. “Like you all need it.”

The three of them laugh at you as they pile into the cart. Before you can say anything else, they drive off—leaving you alone with the one person you’re most nervous to speak to. He’s still turned away from you, staring off into the distance. You will your heart to stop racing as you wipe your sweaty hands on the back of your shorts.

Calm down.

You take a deep breath before you decide it’s now or never. Deciding it is time, you take the tentative steps towards Hoseok and run a million different scenarios in your head. What’s the worst thing that can happen? He tells you to fuck off and never speak to him again?

Nausea settles into your throat at the idea.

By the time you run another worst-case-scenario into your head, you’re just a few steps behind him. Closer to him now, you feel like you’re going to burst at the seams. You stare at his disheveled hair—like he’s been running a hand through it all day—and stiff body. Despite his rigid posture, he’s still the most handsome person you’ve ever seen.

You don’t know long you stand there and stare at Hoseok, but you don’t jolt out of your daze until you hear his voice.

“Are you just going to stare at me all day?”

“Oh, you’re—I mean, I—” you fumble with your words, nervously twitching your hands. “I wasn’t sure if you wanted to talk.”

“It’s kind of hard to talk to someone who doesn’t even like me,” he says, finally turning to face you.

What? “Hoseok—”

“I know you hate me, so I won’t bother you again, if that’s what you wanted to talk about,” his voice is detached, and you realize you’ve never seen this side of him before. No wonder his friends were fed up with him. You would’ve been too. “Sorry if I annoyed you this summer.”

Without another word, he begins to walk away from you. What the hell is going on? You shake your head as you march up to him and grab onto his shirt. “Stop.”

“Y/n…”

“Hoseok, shut up!” You bring your eyes up to glare at him. “Just—just let me talk first, okay?”

His eyes are still cold, but you can see a bit of softness pool in them. “Fine.”

“You’re an idiot,” you breathe, dropping your fist and feeling something prick your vision. “I-I don’t hate you…I don’t hate you at all. And I don’t want you to stop bothering me. Yes, you’re annoying”—you feel him take a step away— “but I like it. I like you. I like you a lot, Hoseok. So much…I don’t even know—”

He stops your rambling with his lips. The kiss makes your heart soar and ache all at once because it feels so damn good—Hoseok feels so damn good. But it ends all too soon when he pulls away.

“I like you too.”

“Then why are you being so mean to me?” You feel an onslaught of tears flow down your cheeks.

Hoseok wipes a tear away with his thumb. “Because I thought you hated me.”

“Well, I don’t,” you sniffle.

“Then, why’d you leave?”

You know he’s talking about that morning. Do you tell him the truth? “Because I thought I was in love with you.”

“Love?” he chokes, and you feel a blush heat your face. “What made you think that?”

“Uh…it was just a sudden thought,” you awkwardly scratch the side of your face. “But I thought about it, and it’s not love…at least, not yet.”

You say that last part so quietly, you don’t think Hoseok even heard. However, the way his eyes gloss over for a moment lets you know that he did. You’re even more embarrassed now. You try to cover your face, but he grabs both of your hands before you can.

“Let’s take this one step at a time, yeah?” Look at him being the rational one here.

You nod, agreeing with him. “So, we like each other.”

“We do,” he says, suddenly pulling you closer to him. Your body hums being so close to him. Being close like this, you’re able to wrap your arms around him and does the same—hand moving to the back of your neck to tilt your head back. At this angle, you’re exposed to him.

“So, what are we?” you dared to ask the question.

Hoseok ghosts his lips over you. “I don’t like sharing.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach. “I haven’t been with anyone else this summer.”

It’s the truth. You haven’t even looked twice at anyone else. You haven’t desired anyone else. You don’t think you ever can again. Jung Hoseok has ruined you.

“Me either.”

“You and Nina—”

“We’re just family friends, remember?” he cuts you off.

“She clearly likes you.”

“Well, she’s not you. I’ve told you that before.”

He did. And, for some reason, you believed him.

“So, what are we?” you ask again, looking up at Hoseok to gauge what he’s going to say. He stares down at you for a moment before that smirk you know all too well graces his lips. As irritating as it is, you’ve missed it.

“We’re dating,” his eyes sparkle, before dimming a little. “If you’ll have me.”

Warmth pools in your stomach as you nod. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

[dcbutinamrev]

AmRev as Iconic Vines To Lighten Up Your Day

(Sorry I had too- )

Hamilton: AH!

Lafayette: Stop could have made me drop my croissant!

Tilghman: *sleeps*

Meade: *pours water on Tilghman*

Tilghman: Hello?

Lafayette: Dad look it’s the good kush!

Washington: This is the dollar store how good could it be?

Hamilton to Laurens: Country boy, I love you, blech.

Meade: *throws frisbee*

Tilghman: What the fuck Richard?

Washington: No. No off topic questions. No. Permission denied. No. You have been stopped-

Andre to Hamilton: You have a beautiful smile.

Hamilton: Thanks. You’re not that handsome.

Andre: Wow. Thanks-

Madison: And they were roommates

Jefferson: Oh my God, they were roommates

Washington: Every time you yell at your kids, put a quarter in your no yelling sock and soon you’ll have a weapon-

Lafayette: Road work ahead? Uh, yeah. I sure hope it does-

Jefferson: I keep telling you man, you gotta stop lettin people walk over you.

Hamilton: *wheezes* Okay-

Laurens: *weirdly walks down the hall*

H. Laurens: *sighs with disappointment*

Betsey: Mom, I got something to tell you…

Catherine Schuyler: What is it honey?

Betsey: I got an A-BOR-TION

Fitzgerald: Ha ha. I do that-

Meade: Hi welcome to chili’s

Harrison: When there’s too much drama at school, all you got to do is, walk away-yay-yay

Hamilton: If there are any spirits here tonight…tell me…do I sound like Shikera? *makes weird noises*

Judge Woodhull: 911 is it an emergency?

Abe Woodhull: No!

Judge Woodhull: Then…what is it?

Abe: I…It’s digiorno-

Philip: Hey, Ma. Say who wants lasagna

Betsey: Who wants lasagna? *trips*

Hamilton: *starts talking*

Laurens: Uh, I’m not finished. Let’s get started.

Hamilton: *talking*

Laurens: Oh my God. Can you please just let me do it-

Peggy: Hey guys look at this dress my Mom bought me. SIKE! IT’S A JUMPSUIT! YOU WERE FOOLED! HA HA HA!

Hamilton: Hey, bro what do you want to eat?

Laurens: *the souls of the innocent- * A bagel *No!* Two bagels

Jefferson: There’s only one thing worst than a rapist. Boom.

Adams: A child.

Jefferson: No-

Jefferson: You can’t sit with us

Hamilton: Actually, Jefferson, I can’t sit anywhere. I have hemorrhoids

Tallmadge: Hey everybody so today Bradford pushed me so I’m starting a kick starter to put him down

*picture of Bradford*

Tallmadge: The benefits of killing him would be I would get pushed way less-

Samuel Seabury: Someone in our apartment has been killed. Please help-

King George III: Calm down. Don’t want a panic at the disco-

Hamilton and Jefferson: *fighting*

Madison: Can I get a waffle? Can I please get a waffle-

Continentals at the Redcoats: Look at all those chickens!

Kinloch: Oh sorry I fell asleep while I was waiting on you to make me a sandwich!

Laurens: Go back to sleep and starve

Charles Lee: Basically I um…what I was thinking was—

Laurens: *punches Charles Lee*

Charles Lee: Aw, fuck man. I can’t believe you’ve done this-

Washington: Put that candy back. I’m not buying you all that mess Oh. Try me.

*Who’s that Pokémon?*

Mulligan: IT’S PIKACHU!

*It’s Clefairy!*

Mulligan: FUCK!

Brewster: I’m JOHN CENA! *blows flutes through nose*

Anna Strong: Ben is that a weed?

Tallmadge: No this is a crayon-

Strong: I’m calling the police!

*illuminati theme plays*

Laurens at Charles Lee: What the fuck is up Charles! No what you say? What the fuck dude? Step the fuck up!

Laurens: He just dropped and was just smacked the lip just…wha-pow! Dropped down said braaa

Hamilton: Hurricane Katrina! More like hurricane tortilla!

Harrison: Do you ever like wake up and do like do not do something and you’re just like: What the fuck is going on?

Woodhull: You don’t know what is good! *weird moves* You don’t know me! You don’t know me!

Meade: If you want to play baseball, you got to be the baseball

Hamilton: I thought you were bae. Turns out just you were just fam.

Laurens: Bro!

Hamilton: *walks away*

Tallmadge: A nice typical American dinner

Billy Lee:

Tallmadge: *screeches*

Adams: How about the four shelf, want to hit that-

Hamilton: Shut the f— up.

Laurens: *does something awesome in battle*

Hamilton: That was legitness

Hamilton: something she said-

Betsey: *laughs*

Hamilton: I like that laugh. *mimics laugh*

Laurens: We just love working here. We all have a lot of laughs. Fuck off Hamilton. I’m not going to your fucking baby shower.

Laurens: Hey I’m gay

Lafayette: I thought you were American?

Hamilton: Did you wash the dishes?

Laurens: I thought you wanted to do that?

Hamilton: *laughs* You were wrong

Peggy: Mom, I know you don’t have a lot of money so it’s okay if you by me sketchers for school.

Catherine Schuyler: *snorts* What are those?

Tallmadge: Excuse me? Can I get a cup of cofffe? Black?

Billy Lee: Can’t you see me talking?

Hamilton: How do you know what’s good for me?!

Washington: THAT’S MY OPINION!

The other aides: *blinks*

*Hamilton trying to convince Washington to let him go to South Carolina*

Washington: You can’t go. No. Sorry you can’t go-

Hamilton: I love you bitch. *pointing at Eliza and Laurens* I ain’t never gonna stop loving you…bitch.

Lafayette: They following Ma. They following me.

Lady Washington: Who?! Who following you?!

Lafayette: The bus-

Lady Washington: The bus?

Franklin: Welcome to physics-

*something explodes*

Franklin: *screeches* HOLY MOTH-

Laurens: It’s summer. I got my hat on backwards and it’s time to fucking party. *hits head on banister*

Hamilton:

Laurens: *slams break*

Hamilton: *chokes on food* LAURENS!

Hamilton: Smack cam!

Burr: Bitch I hope you the fuck you do! You’ll be a dead son of a bitch I’ll tell you that-

Philip: Oh my God. It’s Chipotle! Chipotle’s my life

Meade: Hey, Tench you want some?

Tilghman: This bitch empty! YEET!

Hamilton: WHAT ARE THOSE!

Lady Washington: They are my crocks!

Hamilton: *fires gun*

Lafayette: *jumps* THIS IS WHY MOM DOESN’T FUCKING LOVE YOU!

Washington: *walks in room*

Hamilton: BRAH!

Washington: *jumps and walks away like nothing happened*

Burr: I brought you Frankincense

Hamilton: Thank you

Burr: And I brought you…Myrrh

Hamilton: Thank you.

Burr: Myrrh…..DER!!!”

Hamilton: Judas no!

Billy Lee: Lebron James. Lebron James. Lebron James. Lebron James. Lebron James.

Laurens: *sneezes*

*Deers runs off*

Hamilton: Nice Laurens

Laurens: What? I sneezed! Oh I’m not allowed to sneeze?

Arnold: I smell like beef. I smell like beef.

Andre: I’m real. And I can’t go with ya-

Peggy Shippen: Ooh, this is my jam. This is my jam. Turn that song off. This is my jam-

Hamilton: Ooh, I like your accent where you from?

Lafayette: I’m librarian

Hamilton: Oh my bad *whispers* I like your accent where you from?

Franklin: *blows smoke* Atom-

Adams: Honestly I don’t remember. I was probably fucked up. Yeah I was crazy back then.

Lafayette at Hamilton and Laurens: Two bros. Chilling in the hot tub. Five feet apart cause they’re not gay-

Revere: Mother trucker dude. That hurt like a butt cheek on a stick.

Franklin: Watch your profanity

Laurens: What’d you say? What’d you say?

Washington: I said whoever threw that paper, your Mom’s a hoe.

Arnold: Thanks for checking in I’m still a piece of garbage-

Hamilton: Remember one time I liked you

Andre: No?

Hamilton: Good. Cause it never happened!

Andre: Oh…

Hamilton: *laughs and walks away*

[the-shared-brain-in-retrograde]

Captain Marvel

A joint review:

I too wake up and want to fight all men. The over arching theme of this whole film is fuck all men, and we can both really get on board with that. Throughout our individual notes made whilst watching the film from opposite ends of the country we have both noted down several fuck men moments, and would like to list some of them for you now:

Don't tell me to control my emotions Jude Law. We do not know the name of Jude Law’s character in this film, and quite frankly we don’t care to. He is just Jude Law, and it’s enough to know he turns out to be a real dick. When he tried to take credit for her abilities and strength and she blasted him in the face, I (Cass) felt it in my soul. Becks clearly has no soul...[Jude Law's character will here by in be referred to as Jude Law cos I'll be fucked if I even know what his character was called. Joe something maybe?] (I looked it up it’s Yon-Rogg which I’d be happy to say on oath I’ve never heard in my life)

"There's a reason they call it a cockpit." Fuck off dickhead. We enjoyed the pool ball smashing that came straight afterwards

"How about a smile, huh?" Fucking men, I'll smile when hell freezes over you prick. Also hands up in the comments everyone who has received this remark on a night out?

"You call me 'young lady' again, I'll shove my foot up somewhere it's not supposed to be." Maria Rambeau, a million chef's kisses for you.

"I have nothing to prove to you." Fuck yeah Carol. Nothing like cutting off a man's self righteous speech by a blast to the chest, a shame there wasn't a kick in the balls too.

Blockbuster Video, a treasured memory.

@becksxoxo: Our village didn't have a blockbuster, but an independent, and my three favourites were Pound Puppies and the Legend of Big Paw, Fern Gully and the Ewoks cartoon series. Only once did we move to the big lights of York did we have a Blockbuster but I remember the abject thrill of roaming the racks of films.

@cassandrafey: I think choosing Blockbuster was so smart cos it really roots the film in time really quickly without having to say anything further. Until that point you might have been in the present, but the nostalgia kick backwards makes my brain feel a bit like a time traveller. I really miss these places. I don’t actually remember renting one film over and over (if I did it was possibly Lion King 2, a fine sequel) but I do remember the joy of going to the video shop and browsing around and picking something out for weekend watching. What was the smell of a video shop? It was almost a bit like the new car smell but not quite, nicer, with a hint of popcorn but not really cinema either. Whatever that smell was I think it’s possibly lost to time.

Nick Fury with both eyes is disconcerting but a treat to behold. The de-aging becomes less off putting the more you look at it, but it's still weird. The man does always get a good car chase in the MCU, is this written into his contract? Also the full blown sass for the start. However, he does both of these things very well so we will let them continue.

The train scene: what a moment.

Firstly, why does no one react or notice him shifting from the surfer dude to the old lady? Is this because no one makes eye contact on city trains or does this happen a lot in Los Angeles?

Secondly, why are you stopping a woman from accosting an old lady when said old lady clearly knows kung fu? Let that fight happen my guys.

Thirdly, love to see a train carriage chase. The stakes are high, and we appreciate it.

Another mountain side lair. Seriously MCU can you divulge the builders plans for these, I don't think we should have to ask again.

FRIENDSHIP - its good.

On a serious note, it is really good to see it. Its great to see female friendship between two besties on screen, not talking about a man. SO GOOD. We also loved seeing blossoming new lifelong friendships, Carol and Fury, Fury and Talos, Fury and Goose [mainly just Nicholas Joseph Fury making new friends...]

A direct quote from @cassandrafey on friendship, "its both unbearably sad and nice at the same time *wails*"

(Cass here to specify that that quote was in relation to considering your best friend lost/possibly dead, and then years later they return but they don’t remember who they were properly because half their memories have been erased. So it’s happy that you’ve got your friend back but it’s sad because you missed so much time and they’re not quite the same nooooo I’m in my feelings!)

Becks... 👀

@becksxoxo loves Goose, so much. @cassandrafey has questions. Do all Flerken look like cats? Everyone either knew what a cat was, or what a flerken was, but not both. Do Flerken always look like cats, but with tentacles, or can they be any animal but with tentacles? In the voice of the man who wants pictures of Spiderman ‘Get me answers goddamnit!’

The music in this film is fire.

Our favourites include:

Ah the 90s, what a time to be alive. Our favourite throwbacks highlighted in the film were tv tapping of the head, gotta get that signal; internet cafes, imagine having to read fanfiction in the open like that, imagine having to write it!; the everlasting loading screen, we could feel the the years drifting from our lives just watching that blue bar. @becksxoxo would really have enjoyed a little Jay and Silent Bob cameo, although Mallrats was a nice touch (aw Stan Lee).

As we mention Stan Lee I (Cass) would like to say here that I forgot that they changed the Marvel logo to honour him for this film, and that also was a little sad yet nice touch at the start. The Stan cameos will be missed.

The shock of the tesseract. Why do we always forget that’s the energy core? It seems like it should be more obvious. The sight of that glowy blue space cube does seem to get us pleasantly riled when it pops up though.

Carol Danvers, specifically. Because she is just so great:

@cassandrafey: There is a great deal to love about Carol. She’s really strong (mentally as well as physically) and a good friend, and she has a sense of humour, great hair and a sassy eyebrow game, she tries her hardest at everything, she looks for the best in people and gives second chances, and she pulls off the difficult double act of seeming really normal but also being very powerful. Maybe being normal is what makes her powerful. The relief I felt when she turned up in the end credits and you knew that she would be around for Endgame my God I thought, things will be okay now that Carol is there.

Otherwise I love that montage of her getting told no or getting knocked down, and each time she picks herself back up with ferocious determination and quietly tries again. That fucking sang to me. It shows she’s not perfect because you watch her fail, but it’s how she deals with that failure that makes me love her character even more. They thought they would break her by showing her her failures, but what they actually did was prove her resilience and ability to overcome obstacles, and she does those things for no one else but herself, she’s only proving to herself that she can do it so of course she has nothing to prove to some jumped up man ordering her about. She’s emotional and she gets told that’s not a trait that makes you strong, that she should suppress it, but what she proves is that trusting your instincts and using your emotions actually makes you stronger and better. Great to see a strong and yet realistic female character getting to lead a great movie.

That shot where they are walking out of the hanger with the aviators on:

Maria: ‘Ready to show these boys how we do it?’

Carol: ‘Higher, further, faster baby.’

Perfection. Top Gun who?

@becksxoxo would like to add, whilst pulling images and quotes together for this I had reason to search Captain Marvel on the internet, and fuck me. The backlash both the character and the film received from certain demographics of Marvel 'fans' made me so unbelievably angry. I didn't do tumblr or too much marvel fandom stuff when it came out so I wasn't fully aware of the backlash when it came out, but seeing it now makes me seethe. I don't want to linger on it, or give it any further screen time, but it really wasn't a shining example of men not being dickheads.

Glowing Carol with the good hair.

Things where we differ:

In direct contrast to The First Avenger I don’t think we differ much in opinion on this film! But here’s where we do:

Agent Phil Coulson:

@cassandrafey I am totally apathetic towards Coulson. I don’t dislike the man. It’s fine when he shows up. But otherwise I just don’t care at all. He could literally be anyone for me. In a way that’s probably a good secret agent, totally bland, couldn’t describe his face if I witnessed him do a crime. Sometimes they try to tell you bits about his character, like he does sometimes go against orders to help people, he has those baseball cards and he’s sort of nerdy about them, he seems to chat to Pepper about his love life, but also none of those things ever make me think ‘oh it’s good to know how Coulson is getting on’. This may sound harsher than intended, but for me he’s like this weirdly recurring footnote in the mcu - kind of nice from a continuity aspect but you know what it is and it’s fundamentally unimportant so you gloss over it.

(Also he shot Loki that one time, and okay Loki had fatally wounded him but I think we know by now that I can forgive Loki’s mercurial and stabby nature on account of the fact that I adore him, but hurt him back and I will remember that and hold it against you for an indefinite length of time and then denounce you as being a bland and boring side character in a small time tumblr post).

@becksxoxo I think baby Phil Coulson is adorable. I enjoyed that he got left at the Blockbuster, and that he didn't sell them out to S.H.I.E.L.D - at this point in sharing my feelings the bar is clearly set very low for the male characters...

[ressyfaerie]

Dark Tyson fic; during G-Rev, Tyson snaps from stress and feelings of abandonment and joins Team BEGA. (Bonus points for Brooklyn getting close to Tyson to make Kai jealous. Black Dragoon optional, or maybe Boris gives him Black Dranzer...?!)

I saved the best for last. 

I am a big fan of dark Tyson- love it. I’ve been thinking of this prompt for DAYS. I’m very excited to write this- as you know I am the angst queen. For the sake of this fic, g-rev timelines are going to be confusingly switched around, just because it makes more sense for the fic, and also- I’ve forgotten some important plot points and dont have the time to rewatch g-rev LMAO. Anything in * can be Tyson’s or Kai’s private thoughts! 

So I finished writing this, and it's LONG. so I’ve actually uploaded it to archive first, because reading it on tumblr seems like a chore and a half, so here’s the archive link: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30739397/chapters/75866906

It came out to 50 pages, and it’s 5 chapters on archive. 

And here’s the first ‘chapter’ of the fic: 

So here we go:

It was odd to see Kenny angry. 

He tossed his laptop to the side, picking up spare bey parts in his hand. 

“Kenny! I’m just saying- What are our chances? Without everyone else, we’re useless as a team-”

“I’ve been working so hard Tyson…” Kenny shook in anger, beside him. Hilary tried to place her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, but he shook her off. 

“How could you say we’re useless?! When we’ve been trying so hard!?” 

“It’s not enough! You know me and Diachi can’t work together-” 

From the corner of the room, Diachi screeched, “Hey loser! I’m right here!” 

“I know, you shitty little cherry tomato!” 

Hilary tried to be the mediator, “Tyson, are you sure that’s how you really feel?” 

Tyson nodded, “Our team has no hope. Now with BEGA taking over everything we can’t even get any parts, it’s useless-” 

“How could you say that Tyson!” Kenny yelled louder than he ever had in his life, “You’re the one who’s supposed to be uplifting us! You’re the leader-” 

“I don’t want to be a leader! We had a leader remember? And a coach?” 

“You can’t give up!” Kenny begged and shook with anger, Tyson felt horrible, he knew Kenny had been working so hard, but they had lost too much, he felt there was no hope of recovery. 

“Throw out your research Kenny, we’re done.” Tyson stared at the wooden floorboards of the dojo, completely defeated. 

“AaaaH!” Kenny had launched himself forward- landing a strong right hook on Tyson’s cheek. 

Tyson fell backwards, landing on his side and quickly sitting up to rub his cheek, “What the hell Kenny!?” 

Kenny was furious, “you can throw away everything we’ve worked for if you want! Telling me to throw away *my* research?! You need to get yourself together Tyson!” 

Tyson was left speechless, Hilary nodded, agreeing with Kenny, “if we’re going to defeat BEGA we need a Tyson who can hold himself together.” 

“You’re heads messed up dude,” Diachi remarked, “We can’t work with you until you fix yourself.” 

Tyson could feel the anger radiate through his body, “if you guys think I’m so messed up then maybe I should just leave!?” 

“Then go.” Kenny hissed through clenched teeth. 

“Fine! Good luck with hopper-” Tyson slammed his hands on the floor throwing himself to his feet, “Your beyblade that fucking hops- Beyblades aren’t supposed to hop Kenny!” 

He slid open the shoji doors fast, and threw them closed, rattling the old dojo like an earthquake. Outside in the gardens, he cursed. 

“Tyson?” 

Hearing his grandpa’s voice behind him, he aggressively swung his body in his direction, “What is it Gramps? I’m not in the mood-” 

“What’s going on with you and your friends?” 

“Friends!?” Tyson spat. 

“Oh no... Tyson-” Ryu shook his head. 

“What? What is it? Is it something wrong with me?” Tyson’s whole body was stationary, emanating white anger.

“Your friends didn’t leave you to hurt you.” 

“Not my friends- Friends don’t betray each other to go to different teams.” 

“You *know* they didn’t betray you.” 

“Then tell me why Kai went to BEGA.” 

Grandpa stayed silent, he didn’t have a good reason why Kai went to BEGA, and no one knew why. 

“I’m sure like Max and Ray, he just wanted to fight you again.” 

“And Hiro?” 

“He wanted to train stronger opponents for you-” 

Tyson suddenly laughed, “he could have trained *me*.” 

Ryu placed his hands in front of him, trying to calm his grandson down from a distance. 

His Grandpa was more serious than he had been in years. 

“He could have- I know it wasn’t the best thing for Hiro to do, but- he did it because he loves you.” 

“Okay Grandpa, you have an answer for everything huh? Then answer me this- where’s my dad?” 

The garden turned ice cold. 

“I’m sure he’s around Tyson-”

“Does he not have a TV? Or a post office? How can he sit in some country, and not see what is happening to his own son!?” Tyson’s voice bellowed through the courtyard. 

“I don’t know Tyson- he loves you.” 

“No he doesn’t- It seems no one does-” Tyson was holding back angry sobs. 

Ryu took a step forward, “Tyson I-” 

“No!” Tyson screamed and threw his hand in front of him to keep him back, “stay away from me!” 

The doors to the dojo opened, no doubt his make-shift team coming to see the commotion. 

“You guys stay away from me too!” Tyson grasped his head and scratched his nails into his scalp, “Everyone just- stay away from me.” 

No one could say anything, Tyson glanced around at the quiet group, “what? Are you guys afraid of me now or something?” 

“Tyson, you need to calm down-” Ryu tried. 

“No? Don’t tell me to calm down!-” Tyson took a step backwards, trying desperately to flee the situation, then it occurred to him- he could. 

Tyson stared down the gravel beneath his feet, the world felt blurry, and in that moment his vision flashed red, he turned away running at full pace through the yard, and out the gates, flying down the street as he heard his only paternal figure and teammates calling for him. 

Down the road, over a bridge, along the ocean, towards the river. 

The sun was setting now, twilight was blanketing the world. 

At the top of the riverbank he began to head towards the river, not knowing why. He slipped on the smooth grass landing on his back and groaning in pain. 

He placed his hands over his face and cried. 

He sobbed for everything- everything he lost, his friend’s, his reputation, his spirit. 

He pulled himself off the grass and shoved his head in between his knees, still crying. Anger, sadness, regret, he felt it all at once. It was eating him from the inside out.

He let out a frustrated scream while jabbing his fingertips into his biceps, trying desperately to turn to dust, to become one with the earth. 

He didn’t hear the footsteps approach him. 

“I would ask if you’re okay- but I know the answer.” 

“Whoever you are- Just leave me alone- please.” Tyson buried his head further into his knees. 

He felt someone sit beside him, the grass crunched under their weight.

“Everyone’s left you.” 

“I know that-” Tyson could barely make out the words. 

“They left you for better teams, brighter pastures… You must think you’re not good enough for them.”

Tyson shook his head. 

“You are. You’re better than all of them, probably better than all of them combined.” 

 Those words made Tyson perk his head up, wondering who his savior tonight could possibly be. 

The purple hair stood out first, he wore a compassionate smile. 

Tyson locked eyes with his arch-enemy but made no effort to change his expression.

 “You’re allowed to be sad- and angry.” 

Tyson became more frustrated, *why is it out of everyone I know, the evilest person tells me what I need to hear?*

Boris had an interesting voice. Tyson tried to dissect the tone, but he could only detect… Affection. 

“What are you going to do now… World champion?”

Tyson felt his body go numb at the comment, so much was expected of him, but he had no way of accomplishing any of it. 

Tyson tried to inhale before answering, a cough got stuck in his throat, and he answered in a hoarse voice, “I’m not sure.” 

Boris continued smiling, he stared at the orange sun, just about to disappear under the horizon, “Do you want to show your friends how capable you are?” 

Tyon managed to hold his head up for a moment, he slowly nodded. 

“Good for you.” 

His words seemed to calm him down against his will. 

Tyson mumbled, “I won’t join BEGA.”  

“I’m not asking you to. But I do have everything you need to arm yourself. Parts, training rooms, places to sleep, all the food you could ask for” 

Tyson shook his head. 

“No strings attached. Come see my training facilities tonight, if you don’t want to be there, you can leave.”  

Tyson felt cold, the shadow of the setting sun crept over them, an ominous darkness crawled over his face, then Boris’. 

“Or would you rather go back to your home tonight?” 

Boris made a point. Tyson had no intention of going home tonight, but he had nowhere to stay. 

His eyes darted back and forth, deep in thought. 

Boris pushed himself off the ground and stepped to the top of the hill. 

On the road next to them, a fancy car.  

The purple-haired man opened the passenger door and gestured with his hand. Tyson gave him a blank stare. 

“Come on, world champ.” He emphasized the last words just right- reminding Tyson how much was on his back, “what’ll it be?” 

Tyson’s brain wasn’t working, logical thought was too much to process. What he did know was- he didn’t want to sit on this riverbank crying the rest of the night. 

Boris waited, for minutes, holding the door open. 

Tyson sniffed, he rubbed his nose with his forearm, crawled to his knees, and pushed himself off the ground. 

“Good job, champion.” Boris grinned, giving him the unnecessary compliment. 

Tyon was beside him now, he rested his fingertips on the top of the car door, feeling the cold black metal under his nails. 

“It’ll be warmer inside when I turn on the heat,” Boris reassured Tyson, inspecting his skin, covered in goosebumps from the cold.

“O...kay…” 

Tyson crawled into the passenger seat weakly.

He did turn on the heat. The heated seats warmed Tyson’s whole body. He watched the street lamps roll past as he hunched into the leather. 

Boris drove like an old man- but also a maniac. Driving the speed limit, but taking turns at the same speed. 

The BEGA building towered over the whole city. They pulled into a parking garage, the gates rose with Boris’ presence. 

After parking in a special stall, Boris turned off the car and climbed out, he walked to Tyson’s side opening the door for him. Tyson didn’t have the energy to complain that he could have done it himself, and instead, followed the older man to a specific elevator. 

They rode the elevator in silence.

When the door opened, Boris walked ahead, Tyson followed cautiously. 

Inside another heavy metal door was darkness, Boris flicked a switch and the lights invaded the room. 

The room was filled with dirt and boulders, in the center, a beydish carved into the earth. 

 “This room was made to be destroyed,” Boris explained. 

Tyson pushed his hands into his pocket, caressing Dragoon with his hand. 

“You’re welcome to destroy it- if you’d like.” 

Tyson still felt emotion linger in his chest, the frustration was killing him, it was a tempting offer, but he knew if he wrecked his blade in the process, he had no way of fixing it. 

“I’m not recording, I’m not analyzing you, I’ll just step back. You do what you need to do.” 

Tyson pulled out his launcher and loaded Dragoon, he directed his launch to a rock.

“AAAUUGH!” Tyson roared as he put all his anger into letting go. 

Dragoon split the rock clean through with ease, the two halves crashing to the ground. 

Tyson continued to scream and throw his hands giving Dragoons orders at a lighting pace. The room was soon covered in dust from the obliterated rocks, while sand rolled over the floor. 

Tyson was holding his chest, trying to get air into his lungs with fast painful breaths, he realized the amount of air he needed wasn’t arriving, so he continued to destroy the room. 

After all the rocks were annihilated, he fell to his knees. He was out of tears, his eyes were wide open. As he witnessed the destroyed room under his body, Boris began to clap. 

“Bravo! Amazing, spectacular! A performance only one person in the whole world could accomplish!” 

Dragoon obediently arrived at Tyson’s knees, he picked him up and inspected him. 

*Trashed. I’m sorry Dragoon.*

He shoved him safely back into his pocket. 

“Fantastic job, Tyson.” Boris was in front of him now, holding out his hand to help him up. 

Tyson wanted to refuse, but his legs were like jelly, he grasped his hand using it as his crutch. 

“You must be thirsty after a performance like that! Come- I have a room prepared.” 

Tyson found himself in an extremely fancy penthouse. Extravagant food was laid out on a table with every kind of drink next to it. 

Boris had gestured to a couch telling him to sit down, when he did, the soft plush absorbed him. The comfort felt amazing on his aching muscles. 

“What do you want to drink, champion?” Boris popped open a wine bottle and poured himself a glass. 

Tyson watched him cautiously, he had never seen an adult drink alcohol so casually in front of him- he was underage after all. 

“Do you want some of this?” Boris gestured to his crystal glass and grinned. 

“No- Just water, thanks.” 

“Any food?” Boris asked as he handed him a glass of cold water from the table. 

Tyson accepted it and began to drink, he stopped for a moment, “not hungry.” 

“You’ve been through a lot tonight, that’s understandable.”

Tyson took another worried sip, “Yeah.” Tyson’s eyes darted side to side.

“You must be wondering about the room?” 

“Is this your place?” Tyson took a good look at the penthouse this time. 

“Actually, it was supposed to be yours, when I finally convinced you to join BEGA, but-” Boris took a sip of his wine, “it seems like that just isn’t going to happen.” 

Tyson felt a wave of exhaustion fall over him. He felt like he had been hit by a truck. 

“Let me show you around,” Boris suggested. 

Tyson decided to follow, he needed to get off the couch before he fell asleep. 

He showed him the kitchen, balcony, hot tub, fireplace, and finally the bedroom. 

“King Size bed, very comfortable, you can lay down if you want.” 

Tyson could sense his eyes closing, it had been a long day, he had never felt this tired, even after training all night. 

Boris sat on the edge of the bed, patting the spot beside him. Without questioning, Tyson was sitting beside him too. 

“It’s okay to rest sometimes. Have you ever seen a champion win on fumes?” 

“I have.” Tyson tried to grin, but failed. 

“Go to sleep Tyson.” 

“No- not here.” 

Boris took his empty water glass out of his hand- he gently pushed his shoulder, Tyson collapsed backwards into the bed. 

“Sleep.”

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the mermay fills: indruck, 25, any rating

Here you go! I went with SFW for this one.

The thing no one tells you about journeys of self-discovery is that they’re really fucking boring.

Duck’s been on this highway for days, and another highway for the days before that. He wanted to see the desert in the spring, but it’s involved fewer super-blooms and more butterflies dying on his windshield than he hoped.

Now he’s on some two lane strip of barely paved road in the vast expanse between Las Vegas and Reno. Green catches his eye to his left; a ribbon of well-watered trees shines in the distance. Closer to the road are dueling picket signs shoved into the ground, some demanding the preservation of the tiny pocket of wetlands and others proclaiming this the site of the Hungry Man Casino expansion. The signs continue all the way to the tiny town of Kepler, where he pulls into a gas station in front of Tarkesian’s General Store.

After filling the tank and chatting with the owner and his incongruous New York accent, Duck decides to stop in Kepler for the night. The road north is mostly open range, and he’s already had one near miss with a cow on a pitch black stretch of asphalt. The lone place to rest is the Reconciliation Motel Court and Casino. He gets his key, pulls up to the chipped door, and flops onto the burnt orange bedspread for a nap.

He doesn’t wake up until eight at night, wondering what the hell is wrong with the other guests that they’re all playing music loud enough for him to hear. He counts at least six separate voices, their overlap meaning the lyrics turn to gibberish. It’s still hot and stuffy in the room, and maybe outside will be quiet. He pulls on his swim trunks and rash guard; a peek out the window at the pool shows it’s empty and that, plus the general sparseness of the parking lot, makes him confident enough that he won’t bump into anyone and try to make up some lie about being shy or mormon or whatever the hell else would explain a dude keeping a top on to swim.

But, just his luck, when he latches the pool gate shut, he discovers he’s not alone. A man with silver hair floats in the pool, eyes closed. When Duck sets a towel on the chair, his eyes fly open and he dives under the water, giving Duck twin shocks: glowing red eyes and a long, jet black tail.

“What the fuck?” He says aloud in case someone else is watching and can explain why there’s a fucking mermaid in the pool.

The merman resurfaces, blinking at him, “How in the world did you get in here?”

“Uhhhh…” Duck points to the gate.

“You...you see the pool? Do you see the motel as well?”

Duck turns, wondering if this is some kind of prank, “yeah?”

“Apologies” the merman swims to the edge of the pool nearest him, “it was such an unlikely future I am having a hard time processing it.”

“You’re havin a hard time”

“Oh, oh of course, this is all very confusing to you. Here, have a seat.” He gestures to one of the pool chairs. Not knowing what else to do, Duck sits.

“Now, have you heard singing while you have been here?”

“Yep. Thought it was the other guests.”

The merman shakes his head, “They are sirens. As am I. We are the descendants of sirens who lived here in the days when there was far more water in this area. As the water dwindled, we made our home in that river and wetlands” he points towards the south end of town, “and then the founders of this fine establishment decided to catch us and use us to lure people to their rundown casino. Since you are about to ask, a siren song shows you what you want; turns out many people want the promise of easy money, food, or sex. But you...somehow you do not seem to respond to it.”

Duck shrugs, “Guess not.”

“I wonder...hmm, perhaps you do not want anything?”

“Don’t think that’s it. Been drivin up and down the country lookin for somethin I want but can’t name.”

The merman rests his arms on the concrete, “You must tell me everything about your travels.”

“I mean, uh, they ain’t all that excitin-”

“I have been stuck in this pool for three years.”

“Okay yeah, more excitin than that. Also, what the fuck?”

“There are ones like it in almost all the lower level rooms. I get stuck out here because I will not sing, but due to having future sight I am too valuable to do away with.”

“This ain’t gettin less fucked up.”

The merman laughs, “Perhaps that is why you don’t fall prey to our song; you are just very honest.”

“That a nice way of sayin I can’t lie for shit?”

“I suppose so.” He grins, sharp teeth glinting in the yellow streetlights, “regardless, I am glad you are not susceptible. I haven’t spoken to anyone aside from the owners in months. They even keep me from my own kind.” His tone is breezy, but Duck sees the flash of pain in his eyes.

“What’s your name?”

“Indrid. Yours?”

“Can’t you see it comin?” He teases.

“Yes, but I want to hear you say it. I get ahead of others often enough as it is.”

“Duck. It’s a nickname.”

Indrid flips his tail once, “Care to join me for an evening swim, Duck.”

“You ain’t gonna eat me or anythin, right?”

“I only taste humans when offered” His tail undulates hypnotically as he pushes into deeper water. Then he pauses, “that was meant as flirtation and not as a threat.”

Duck slides into the water, smiling when he meets Indrid’s nervous gaze “Yeah, I got that.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

“See, you can tell it’s a saguaro because--fuck” the camera slips from Duck’s hand, only for Indrid’s to shoot out and catch it before it hits the water.

“Thanks, ‘Drid, startin’ to wonder what I’d do without you.”

The mer, cheek resting on the warm concrete, shifts sideways so he can bump Duck’s knee with his forehead, “The feeling is mutual.”

For the last two weeks Duck’s stayed at the motel, watching his fellow occupants walk zombie-like through doors or stagger from them in a daze when their money runs out and the owners kick them to the curb to make way for new targets. Following Indrid’s instructions, he delivers messages between the trapped sirens, the kind they dare not sing aloud, brings them things they’re missing, like favorite foods or things to do, when he can manage it.

He’s also careful to spend time in town, away from any lingering influence of the siren songs. Leo Tarkesian gives him a job in the store, and he strikes up a friendship with a woman going by the name of Mama, who comes in once a week with beautiful wood carvings for Leo to set out for sale. It turns out her family used to own the motel before Reconciliation swooped in and stole it in what Mama insists was an illegal move.

“Worst part is, they crowed about creatin jobs, bringin’ in more tourists. But they won’t let no one outside their inner circle work there, and folks who stop never leave and visit the rest of town. Now they’re gunnin for the state park. But they ain’t gonna get away with it this time.”

More than anything, Duck spends his time with Indrid. The siren tells him stories about life in the wetlands and river, Duck tells him about his travels, about his home, talks with him until the stars come out, would stay until they go away again except the mer tells him he needs his sleep.

Indrid is a very encouraging conversation partner, disdain and aloofness only appearing when he has to speak to the owners of the motel. He’s also very affectionate, resting his head in Duck’s lap or winding his tail around him whenever he stands in the water. Which is why, when he asks Duck if he’s made up his mind about what to do come fall, his fingers are stroking the humans back and his tail is lazily petting his legs.

“I dunno. I could go back and finish my degree, become a ranger and all that. But what if I’m only doin that because I feel like it’s what I’m supposed to do?”

Indrid brushes Duck’s hair from his forehead, “When you think of the future where you meet that goal, how do you feel.”

“Happy. Content. Like, like there’s a thing I can do to keep the world healthy and whole. Sometimes I feel like I’m supposed to be out there savin the world, solvin every problem, makin everythin better. And that’s too damn much. But when I think about havin some forest or park or somethin where part of my job is to care for it, help it grow...yeah, think I could do that.” He smiles at the image of his future self those words conjure.

Indrid smiles at the current him, brushes their noses together, “It seems to me that you have your answer.”

Duck loops his arms around Indrid’s waist, “Then again, could just stay here, look after you and the other sirens forever.”

Chlorine stings his eyes as Indrid zips backwards, looking as if he’s been slapped.

“‘Drid? What’s wrong?”

“You cannot stay here any longer.”

“What do you mean? I wanna stay. I wanna be with you.”

“No! Don’t you see? This is how the song gets you. It is making you think that your greatest wish is to stay in this crumbling motel, looking after a siren who has seen better days.”

“Hold the fuck on” Duck tries to swim to him, only for Indrid to swim further out of reach, “‘Drid, it’s real fuckin insultin to tell a fella that the only reason he feels how he feels is because of a magic song. Maybe I am startin to feel the effects, but I know that when I think about you, no matter how near or far to this fuckin pool I am, I wanna be with you. I’ve fallen in love before, I can recognize the feelin from a mile away. And it’s what I’m feelin now.” He crosses his arms, daring Indrid to argue.

The siren swims to him, cups his face in cool hands, “It’s what I feel too. Why do you think I cannot ask you to stay? I am a prisoner here, Duck. If you remain for my sake, you will be one as well. I cannot do that to you. I know the agony of being cut off from the world you love, and you have so much love yet to give it I cannot, will not, rob you of the chance to do so.”

“I…” Duck he mirrors Indrid’s touch, runs his thumbs along his cheeks.

“Please” Indrid kisses him once, softly, “please, if you love me, don’t stay here and make me watch you decay.”

Duck pulls Indrid as close as he can, kisses him until his lips ache and the siren is pliant and purring in his arms.

“I’ll go. I fuckin hate the idea of leavin you here, but I’ll go.”

“Thank you.”

“There’s just one thing you gotta let me do first. Will you let me introduce you to another human? She’s got almost as much cause to hate Reconciliation as you do, and I got a hunch you two might be able to help each other out.”

Indrid cocks his head, then nods, “Of course, my love. Just tell her to wear earplugs and bring something to write on.”

-------------------------------------------------------

The cottonwoods rustle in the summer breeze as Indrid floats lazily down the river on his back. A family is picnicking outside the visitor center, but only the youngest member of it sees him. She waves. He raises his tail in reply, smiling when she spills her drink in delight.

Most sirens give the heavily trafficked parts of the park a wide berth, still wary of interactions with humans. Indrid doesn’t blame them; Reconciliation was chased out ten years ago, but their memory lingers like smog. He himself stays clear of unfamiliar groups of humans whenever possible.

But today, the futures show him the park is welcoming a new ranger. And so he swims back and forth, hoping the recent arrival will see him. Hoping he remembers.

“I’m sorry sir, but swimmin ain’t allowed in this chunk of the river.” A teasing drawl drifts over his shoulder.

He spins in what he hopes is an elegant way, accidentally splashing the figure on the bank behind him.

“Of course.” He grins, swimming over and resting his arms on the bank and batting his eyelashes as the ranger crouches down to meet him, “how very rude of me. I am terribly sorry.”

Duck’s smile is brimming with years of stored up affection, the lines on his face hinting at stories Indrid cannot wait to hear, “S’okay. For my favorite roadside siren, I’m happy to make an exception.”

[hxney-lemcn]

Seven Stages (Pt. 4)

Word Count: 2.7k

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x reader

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy

Warning: Season 2 spoilers, death, violence

Main Master List | TUA Master List

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five

╔═.✾. ═════════════

Once we got to Sissy’s house I couldn’t help but stare in awe at the unnatural weather. Snow littered the yard and a tunnel of energy formed into the sky coming from the barn. The trees bared no leaves showing how this must’ve been happening for a while now. 

“You think what ever is inside is causing the cold front?” Diego asked as we all exited the car. I mean it was obvious whatever was happening in the barn was causing the strange weather. 

“Well the correlation is high,” Five stated. I feel like sometimes he says bigger words just to make himself seem smart. I mean don’t get me wrong, he is the smartest person I’ve ever met, but still. He could’ve said something simpler than that. 

“Sissy!” Vanya shouted out. “Sissy!”

Sissy cocked her gun and pointed it at us, “Get back!” I mean a shotgun won’t do much to us but I understand where she’s coming from. “All of you, just get the hell back!”

“Sissy!” Vanya shouted once again holding a hand out. Klaus raised his hands up making me laugh to myself silently. Five was ready to do something if need be and so was Allison. I had my hand over my pistol which was strapped to my thigh. “Hey! Hey! What’s wrong?” Vanya asked with genuine concern.

Carl,” Sissy replied, looking over all of us nervously. 

“What did he do?” Vanya asked. 

“He’s...” Sissy said shakily. “He’s dead. Harlan tossed him aside like a rag doll, same way you sent those policemen flyin’. What did you do?”

“No,” Vanya said breathlessly.

“What the hell did you do to my son?” Sissy asked, I could tell she was really scared, and someone who is scared with a gun never mixes well. 

Lightning hit the barn and Diego started to walk forward, “We don’t have time for this.”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sissy asked aiming her gun at him.

“To help your son,” He responded holding out a hand like Vanya did earlier. 

“Look Sissy,” Vanya said trying to calm her. “I found my family. These are my brothers and my sister, and our family friend.” Sissy looked at us all, slowly lowering her gun.

“Ma’am,” Luther said with an awkward wave and smile. 

“Where you lyin’ to me the whole time?” Sissy asked. 

“Of course not,” Vanya said honestly. “Look, I didn’t know who I was. But now I do. And we’re not the monsters that they say we are. We did not kill the president. We are not terrorists. We’re not here to hurt anyone.”

“Then...” Sissy panted lightly. “Who are you?” 

“The only one who can help Harlan.” 

Sissy finally trusted us and let us into the barn. Inside was a kid who was stuck in a ball of energy that he seemed to be creating. He wasn’t seem to be responding to anything Vanya said. So she stepped into the spinning energy ball. I stood next to Five who was standing in a defensive stance, ready to help his sister if need be. Poor man never relaxes. On the other side stood Klaus who...where did he...?

“Uh...guys?” Klaus asked, standing on the other side of the barn looking out at the field. 

“What?” I asked out already making my way over to him. 

“Oh fuck me,” I whispered noticing the handler and another person standing next to her. 

“What, who are they?” Klaus asked.

“One’s the handler,” I started.

“And the other’s Diego’s girlfriend,” Five finished for me. Diego has a girlfriend?

“Lila,” Diego said. “That’s my ex-girlfriend.”

“What?” Klaus asked genuinely surprised.

“You know what? Doesn’t matter now,” He said still staring at the two. 

“They both look angry,” I spoke out rocking on my feet slightly. 

“Yeah.”

“Our brother has that effect on people.”

“We’re going to go out there and find out what they want,” Five said motioning me and him. “You guys stay with Vanya and the kid.”

“I’m going with you too,” Diego said. “Come on.” With that the three of us walked out to the Handler and Lila.  

“I love that smell of fresh country air,” The Handler spoke up with a chuckle. “Don’t you darling?”

“It makes me want to vomit,” Lila replied grouchily. 

“What do you want?” Five asked, wanting to get this over with. 

“To watch you suffer,” Lila spouted making me stand in a more defensive position. Over my dead body will Five suffer any more than he already has. 

“What about me?” Diego asked like a puppy and it was clear he still liked her. 

“You’re not even worth my wrath,” She responded like that was the stupidest question asked. I would’ve high fived her for being strong but right now she was my enemy and I’m sure she also did something to Diego. 

“Easy,” The Handler smiled with a warning tone. “We’re here on official business.”

“What business is that?” I asked keeping my hand over my pistol once more. 

“As head of the commission, I’ve decided to eradicate the criminals responsible for the assassination of the former head of directors,” The handler said calmly. I looked at Five who looked even more on edge now which answered my question on what the fuck happened there. 

“Yeah right,” Diego said. “We didn’t kill the board.” Diego obviously hasn’t realized that Five did yet.

“That’s not entirely accurate,” Five said nervously.

“You didn’t tell them?” The handler asked, she seemed to be having too much fun with this. Five shrugged and she continued, “Oh Five.”

“Five what the hell did you do?” Diego asked. Is...is he really this dumb?

“What I had to do to get my family home,” Five replied and I felt my heart break a little. “Until someone regened on our deal.” He had to kill again, and the deal obviously didn’t work out or they would be in 2019 at the moment. The handler probably had something to do with it and at that moment I wanted to tear her to shreds even more than I did before. 

“Somebody wouldn’t have regened if somebody could’ve met a simple deadline,” The Handler countered, making it seem like Five was at fault. 

“You set him up to fail,” I spoke up with a glare. 

“He set himself up to fail, friend,” She smiled condescendingly and I almost launched myself at her if I didn’t know any better. “You and your brothers and sisters,” The Handler faced Five once more. “Kinda a running theme of your little life, isn’t it?” She had the gull to laugh. 

“He didn’t fail in finding me,” I said crossing my arms. 

“It won’t matter in the end,” She shrugged. 

“Dude, I can’t believe you killed the board of directors,” Diego whispered to Five. “You have no idea how messed up the commission is right now.”

“Messed up?” The Handler asked. “Who’s saying that?”

“Everybody,” Diego glared. “Christ even the janitors think it’s going to shit!”

“That’s not all he killed,” Lila chimed in. “Her too.” She looked at Five and I with a glare. 

“What are you talking about?” I asked confused. I haven’t killed anyone since I left the Commission. 

“Don’t play dumb you prepubescent piece of shit,” She growled and Five stood slightly in front of me. 

“Enough,” The Handler said. “The point is that you all are going to die today.” 

“Oh, well I don’t like your chances,” Diego stated. “Eight of us, two of you.”

“You know? You’re right,” The handler agreed, clearly something up her sleeve. “Let’s change that.”

With a snap of her fingers people from the commission started showing up. Hundreds of people all surrounding her and pointing their weapons at us. Five staggered back slightly, clearly fearful of what will happen to us all. My heart started beating rapidly and the hold on my pistol tightened. 

“What should we do now?” Diego asked. 

“Fight and die now, or run and die later,” I breathed out shakily. 

“Either way we’re food for the worms,” Five agreed. 

“Preference?” Diego asked looking at the both of us. 

“Wouldn’t mind breathing air for a few more minutes through the old wind bags,” Five shrugged and I let out a strangled chuckle of agreement. 

“Let’s get this over with shall we?” The Handler asked looking at her wrist, did she even have a watch? She lifted a red flag and I shouted out ‘run’ while we slightly tripped backwards. 

We all ran towards the barn and the sounds of people shouting followed us. They started to shoot while we were running for our lives. Five grabbed me and Diego and blinked us towards a red tractor. We took cover behind the big wheel.

“What now?” Five shouted over the sound of bullets ricocheting off the metal.

“We blink into the house man!” Diego shouted back. 

“Okay,” Five mumbled softly and tried to blink us into the house, but it wasn’t working. 

“What?” Diego asked. 

“He’s out of fuel!” I replied, joining the conversation. “He’s too tired.”

“Go, I’ll...” Diego trailed off. “I’ll cover for you.”

“Diego what are you...?” Five asked as Diego stood up. 

“Just go!” Diego shouted stopping the bullets from moving. Five grabbed my hand and dashed towards the house, taking one last look at Diego. Opening the house door he let me enter before following. I went under the table, Five joining me. He held me to his chest in a protective manner as something outside blew up. Bullets were nonstop firing into the house, the only safe spot being where we resided. All I could hear was bullets and Five’s heavy breathing. I felt tears prick my eyes, ‘This is it’. 

The sound of energy bursting emitted and suddenly the firing stopped. Five lifted his head from my neck and looked around, as did I. We hesitantly looked out the widow to see everyone dead...besides the Handler, Lila, and his family. Vanya was floating in the air, a bright beam of energy showing from her chest. Suddenly Lila floated up in the same manner, same glowing energy, and I brought Five with me back under the table. 

Luther crash landed in the living room. Five and I stared wide eyed at him for a second before rushing over. 

“Luther, you alright?” Five asked worriedly. 

“Oh, I think I swallowed my tongue,” Luther muttered out. 

Five rolled his eyes, “Luther, if you swallowed your tongue you wouldn’t be talking, you big moron.” I rolled my eyes at how Five’s demeanor changed so quickly. 

“Come on, to your feet,” I said gently grabbing his hand and helping him up. He stumbled back slightly dragging me with him, Five right behind me just in case. 

“Hey what the hell was that?” Luther asked. “What was that?” Luther held onto Five’s shoulders to stabilize himself. 

“She must’ve redirected,” I responded as Five looked back out the window. “Vanya’s energy wave.” I clarified. 

“Yeah I know,” Luther said. “But how?” 

Some bricks started to fall and Five looked up with wide eyes, “Watch out!” Five pushed me and Luther out of the way as bricks fell on top of him. I felt my stomach drop and the world around me seemingly blurred. I fell to my knees in front of the pile  and started brushing away the bricks. Luther helping me. 

Lila blinked into the house and I glared up at her, tears threatening to fall from my eyes. 

“What are you?” Luther asked. 

“A bitch,” I choked out. My throat felt like it was closing, but I had to keep my emotions under control. 

“Someone who want’s to kill your brother and his little girlfriend,” She replied nonchalantly. I grabbed my pistol and aimed it at her. 

“Well that’s understandable,” Luther said with a shrug. “Diego can be a lot to handle.”

“She’s talking about Five,” I grumbled, keeping my weapon trained on her as she made her way to Luther.

“Him too,” Luther agreed. “But unfortunately, they’re family, so you’re shit out of luck.” 

Luther went to punch her and she held his fist. I analyzed what she was doing like a Hawk. I couldn’t shoot because that would endanger Luther and I only have six bullets to spare. 

“How is this possible?” Luther grunted out. 

“Gotta believe in yourself big boy,” Lila mocked as she threw him out of the house. Lila glanced at me but decided she needed to deal with the super family before taking on normal me. I let out a breath as I realized what is going on with her. She’s super, she can use people’s powers against them. I went back to the brick pile and started digging for Five once again.

He can’t be dead, I mean he’s Five. Five the smart mouthed bastard who just couldn’t die. He couldn’t. He won’t. Not under my watch. I found blue in the pile and kept moving bricks. Suddenly Five sat up looking around. He looked at me and looked over my entire, for the most part, unhurt being. I helped move more bricks so it would be easier for him to get up. 

“Don’t do that again shit-heel,” I muttered out, once again almost crying. 

He brushed a stray tear away, “I’ll try not to.” We walked over to the opening that Luther left.

“Looking for us?” Five asked shrugging his shoulders slightly. I quickly wiped some blood from his lip as she called him a turd. “Let’s dance.” 

Five blinked and Lila did too. Shit I didn’t tell him that she has powers too. I ran into the house where they started to fight. 

“Five don’t blink!” I shouted but he ignored me as he continued. I fought where I could. Landing a few square punches, her doing the same. She grabbed a pan as Five was still trying to figure out how Lila could do what she could do. Five blinked out of the house, as did Lila and I ran out try and find them. I saw the rest of the Hargreeves out by the red tractor and  ran over to them. 

“Where’s Five?” Diego asked as I panted. 

“I don’t know,” I breathed out. We all decided to go to the barn then, since that could be the only place left. When we got there they were talking about some kill order. Yet all I could focus on was the knife she aimed towards Five. I was about to go in there, or better yet shoot the bitch, but Diego stopped me. 

“She never cared about your parents,” I chimed in entering the barn after getting Diego off of me. “She was looking for you. I was also confused on why she came on that mission with us.” 

Lila looked back at me, confusion and hurt showed on her face, “Why?”

“Cause you’re one of us,” Diego spoke up behind me, patting my shoulder, glad I didn’t immediately kill her. “The Handler stole you Lila, just like our asshole father took all of us.”

“No,” Lila denied. “It’s not the same thing.”

“You’re right,” Diego agreed. “Because he didn’t have our parents murdered. Listen to me Lila. You were born October 1st, 1989, the same day as all of us.”  

“Stay back!” Lila threated as we all were circling her. We backed up defensively as Diego continued to try and calm her down. Luther even joined in to try and gain her trust but she just faked gag.

“All right I tried,” Luther said rolling his eyes. 

“You’re right, we have to kill her,” Five said wildly. I can tell all this stress was going to snap him. Yet I kind of agreed with Five, having someone this unstable with those type of powers was dangerous on the loose. Five and I got closer to her but Diego stopped us.

“Five! Hey Five, (y/n)! Stop,” Diego shouted making us look at him. “I got it.”  Five stopped and so did I, and once again Diego tried to get her to trust us. She looked at us all and I smiled gently, hoping it would ease her into the right decision. Right as it seem like she was going to agree the world seemed to stop. 

Bullets shot into us all and I felt myself gasp as I felt my body become riddled with them. I fell backwards as I continued to gasp for air. My only thought at the moment was Five. I turned my head slowly to look at him and if I could at that moment I would’ve let out a sob. Seeing him riddled with bullets made the pain 10x worse. 

I grabbed his hand weakly as my last thought ran through my head, ‘I love you’.

╚═════════════.✾. ═

[xfandomwritingsx]

Something More – Mike Munroe (Until Dawn)

(image source unknown)

Ashley’s 2020 December Prompts

Prompt: Christmas Lights

Warnings/Labels: Trauma. Cursing. Everything you imagine that would go with an Until Dawn fic.

Appox. Word Count: 1,200

A/N: THERE ARE SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN’T PLAYED THIS GAME. I highly recommend playing Until Dawn. It is absolutely fucking fantastic. As for notes for the story; If you are curious, deaths in this story happened as follows: Emily, Chris, and Ashley are all killed by wendigos. Matt is killed from the fall off the cliff. Mike was too slow and Jessica didn’t survive. Josh is a wendigo himself. This leaves Mike, Sam, and the reader as our only true survivors.

You don’t turn the lights off anymore. People won’t stay over at your place because you keep every light in your small apartment on at all times. They say they can’t sleep with everything lit up, but you can’t sleep in the dark. Maybe one day, but not yet.

Mike is the only one who understands. Sam does too, you suppose, but she’s half way across the country now and you’re slowly losing contact with her. Mike, on the other hand, still drops by frequently and has been there for more than his fair share of your breakdowns. He used to push you for a faster recovery, tell you facing the fears was the only way you’d ever get through it, but after one night where he called and woke you to talk him down from a panic attack of his own, he’s been much more understanding.

It’s not even been a year, you remind each other. Trauma takes time. You both hate calling it trauma. It sounds too formal, makes you sound too broken. Honestly though there’s not another word for what you went through. Watching your friends get killed and torn apart and no one believing what happened? What else could you call it?

“I brought the booze!” Mike calls as he walks through your door. He’s gotten used to using the key you’d given him and it doesn’t bother you when he waltzes in unannounced. When he comes into sight, he’s already removed his boots and has two bottles in brown paper bags in hand. So inconspicuous.

“Still snowing like a bitch?” you ask after seeing the way the white powder hasn’t all melted off his shoulders or his hair yet. You turn from your cozy spot on your couch to look out the window. It’s hard to see with all of your lights reflecting your living room back to you, the dark world outside nearly invisible.

“Oh yeah,” he confirms with too much enthusiasm. “Your place looks nice.” He looks around, taking note of your small Christmas tree in the corner along with some other well-placed decorations. You’d learned how to make the most out of your little space. Plus, it gave you something to do.

“Thanks.” He puts the bottles down on your coffee table and shakes off his jacket. “Did you bring dinner with that?” you ask skeptically. Early on, Mike had turned to alcohol to cope. It… wasn’t good. He’d pulled himself out of that hole though and now typically stuck to one or two drinks a night. You still weren’t fond of him drinking though.

“Chinese delivery dude should be here in about twenty minutes.” He smiles, all proud of himself for thinking ahead. He flops himself down on the couch next to you so hard that the cushion you’re sitting on actually bounces and you can’t help but smile back at him. “So, what are we watching?” he asks, snagging the remote off the table and pressing the Power On button.

An hour later, Chinese takeout containers and plastic silverware (because Mike was so hopelessly useless with chopsticks) are scattered among the coffee table and Mike’s snaked his way under your blanket. His added warmth is welcome. You feel like you’re always cold anymore, almost as if the sleepless night on the snowy mountain permanently chilled your bones. More trauma, you suppose.

“When do you light your tree?” he asks absentmindedly as he stares at it. You shrug and your shoulder bumps into his. Mike being extremely close is another thing you’d gotten used to. Neither of you were really sure if he felt the need to be so close because he wanted to protect you or for his own comfort. Maybe a little of both.

“Never, really,” you admit. “I don’t like the shadows on the walls.” He nods, chewing on his tongue.

“Do they make shadows with the rest of the lights on?” he questions.

“I guess not, but what’s the point when you can barely see them with the lights on?” It didn’t really bother you not to have them lit. The tree came pre-wrapped in lights. Had it not, you likely wouldn’t have put lights on it at all and instead gone for tinsel and more ornaments. He purposefully nudges your shoulder.

“Christmas spirit? Duh,” he teases. “Add a little color to life!”

“Hey, if you’re so inclined to turn them on, then be my guest.” You sweep your arm out towards the tree and he straightens his back.

“I think I will,” he declares, puffing his chest out and making you laugh. He whips the blanket off of his lap and practically marches up to the tree. It’s quite comical watching him get down on his hands and knees, looking for the plug and outlet.

It’s noticeable when he manages to turn them on. They’re not overly bright, but the little colored bulbs do spark to life and become much more apparent on the green. Mike shuffles backwards and before he stands up, looks to you with concern.

“That alright?” he asks. You nod your head, appreciative of the fact that he still asks. You’d never pegged Mike for intuitive or as caring before this year, but damn, had he surprised you.  He stands up, full of that air of confidence again. “There. That’s better.”

“I admit, it does add a little something,” you agree.

“Of course it does. When have I ever steered you wrong?” He walks back to the couch and you cock an eyebrow at him.

“Uhh, how about the roller coaster this summer?” He instantly prickles up into defense mode and points a finger at you.

“Hey! It’s not my fault you ate a chili cheese dog before getting in line!” You both break out into laughter at the memory and he sits back down, tugging the blanket back over his legs. “You got plans for Christmas?” he asks once the giggles die down.

“Nah. I’m just going to stay here.” You avoid his gaze, ashamed for no reason about your decision. “Not really ready for the looks and the probing questions from the whole family yet.” He nods his head in a bobbing motion and shifts to turn a little more towards you on the couch.

“Same,” he admits. “We could… spend it together. If you want,” he suggests in a tone that’s so familiar, but you can’t quite place it. “No one should be alone on Christmas, right?” It’s only when his mouth slips on that signature Mike Munroe smile and he reaches out to gently brush some of your hair away from your face that you recognize it. He’s flirting with you.

A lot of emotions come over you, but the ones that rise up the fastest are excitement and longing. It hits you out of nowhere. You’ve never been one to fall for a guy like Mike or even get flustered when they look your way, but suddenly there’s a pull and you want to lean into him.

“I think I’d like that,” you whisper, voice suddenly on the verge of failing you.

“Good.” It’s a strange kind of comfort to know that after everything, he’s still his same cocky self. His next words are soft and genuine and it’s probably one of the reasons you can look at him so differently now. “I’d like that too.”

You thought this was all there was for you and Mike; trauma and comfort in a never ending loop. Maybe though, maybe there’s still hope for something more.

[bruhhhh-huhhhhh]

you've enabled me and i simply must send in another request-

can i get some headcannons for quackity, foolish, eret, technoblade and slimecicle (it's obvious i have favorite characters-) with a Reader who likes to protect them in like a sort of technoblade to philza fashion? like they make sure they're as safe and as happy as they possibly can be and protect them from any danger no matter how small (or large). like character is in an argument/fight that doesn't involve Reader at all and isn't really their buisness. yeah, no Reader is about to make it their buisness-

alternatively, a small scenario:

enemy of quackity/foolish/eret/technoblade/philza: i have an army

quackity/foolish/eret/technoblade/philza: i have a hulk

reader, entering in a badass fashion: i'm about to end their entire career

yours truly,

gremlin anon

Oh god I love this idea so much!

Quackity

With how many enemies this man has, he needs you.

If he’s arguing with someone like Wilbur, your gonna have to step in. Wil and Alex will get into a fist fight over Las Nevadas, and your the only one who can stop them.

“The hells going on over here?” You ask as you see Wilbur and Alex starting to square up to fight. Alex immediately puts his fists down, and Will takes this as his chance to strike. You notice that Wilburs about to hit Alex, who you consider a little brother, and immediately put you hand out and catch Wilburs fist. “You know, maybe hitting him isn’t the best idea. Not with me right here anyways.” And then, with Wilbur caught off guard, you punch him straight in the nose. He stumbles backwards, curses you and Alex, and then walks off with his bloody nose and lost pride. “The hell was all that about anyways?” You ask as you turn to Quackity, rubbing your knuckles. “He wanted citizenship to Las Nevadas, I told him he had to gamble his last life for it. If he won, he get it. If he lost, I get his last canon life and Ghostbur comes back.” Quackity explained. “Let’s just get home, that dude has one sturdy ass nose so now my knuckles are bruised.”

Slimecicle

This man needs you. He’s so oblivious that he can’t tell when someone’s gonna try something on him.

You’ve saved him more times than you can count. And every time, you tell him to be a bit more careful. He asks why, he was just having a conversation with Tommy, not knowing Tommy was gonna scam the shit outa him and run him into the dirt after he was done.

“All I need from you is your diamonds and free range of Las Nevadas. Can you do that for me boss man?” You heard Tommy ask. “Yeah!” “No, no he can’t.” “Oh! Y/n from the sky! My friend! How are you?” You ignored Charlie. “Tommy, why are you trying to scam him again after last time? You know I don’t stay far away. Do you want me to knock you out again and send you back to Phil?” “….no” “Good! Now SCRAM” You said, and Tommy did just that. He started to run away, tripping over his own feet a couple times. “Charlie, what did I tell you about talking to Tommy?” “Uhhhh” “I said to be more careful.” “Yep! I knew that!” You sighed. You really have to find a way to get through to him that Tommy scams him more than he helps him. “What was that even about?” You asked, wanting a bit of backstory. “Tommy was gonna give me his slowest horse in exchange for all of my diamonds and free range of Las Nevadas!” Charlie said, clearly excited thinking about it.

Eret

After the incident with L’manberg and his betrayal, he’s needed you more than ever. Tommy, tubbo, and Wilbur have been trying to attack him when he leaves his castle.

Luckily for him, you always go with him, wether he knows it or not. Everytime someone tries to attack you, and sometimes dream and sapnap, fight back for eret.

It was a lovely day on the server. You and Eret decided to go on a walk, when Tommy and Tubbo came out with their swords out. Then, from behind them, Wilbur comes walking out with his hands in his pockets. “Oh eret, your going to regret the day you betrayed us. Your out numbered here! And your little protector doesn’t have their sword, fantastic! I’ll give you 5 seconds to surren-“ “Yea, that’s not gonna happen Wil.” You know that voice… is that? Your suspicions were confirmed when Dream and Sapnap jumped down from the trees about the 5 of you. “We told you not to try and hurt them, but you can’t ever seem to listen now can you? I told you time and time again, you can’t touch my S/O, wether their protecting Eret or not.” Sapnap says. He throws you your favorite sword, and you say “thanks babe. Now let’s kick some L’manberg ass!” Sapnap fights tubbo, Dream fights Tommy, and you take Wilbur. You yell for eret to step back, and try and get to the castle. He runs the way you guys came, and you turn your attention to Wilbur. He has his armor on and his sword is out. “I guess you wanna do this the hard way Y/n. I told you, you could have joined L’manberg. You would have been safe, but no. You chose sapnap. WE COULD HAVE BEEN RULERS! WE WOULD HAVE HAD OUR WHOLE COUNTRY TO RULE!” He screams at you. “Yea well, being a leader doesn’t suit me, thanks though.” You wink at him, and then lift your sword to his arm. He was so busy monologging that he didn’t see your sword coming towards his arm, and you cut him deep. The thick, red liquid that we know as blood spills out of his arm, and he stumbled back. Tommy and tubbo had already started to grab him to run as you put down your sword. “Buh bye Wilbur!” You yelled at his as he ran off with his two lackeys. You turn back to sapnap and Dream, but they’re both gone. “Huh. Guess they went back home.” Now, you had to get back to Eret.

Foolish

He doesn’t really need as much protection around the server, but when he does your there.

You’ve had to fight people, but most of the time you just have to intimidate people into leaving him alone

Technoblade

This man has so many enemies that you’re in fights constantly.

The incident in the pit didn’t happen because of you. You stopped it right before it happened.

“WHAT IN THE ACTUAL HELL DO YOU TWO THINK YOUR DOING.” You screamed at Techno and Tommy, who were in a giant pit that Wilbur seemingly made. You jumped in and separated the two boys, all while wil was saying “oh come on Y/N! It was just getting to the good part! If only you were at the bathroom for 5 more minutes….” “Wilbur Soot! You should not be allowing this. Technoblade, I’ll telling Philza about this. Tommy, you should have know better than to accept this.” You said, going around to everyone and telling them off. “Sorry y/n” everyone said in unison. “Yea, you better be. For fucks sake I can’t go to the damn bathroom for 10 minutes without a fight breaking out. Let’s go techno, we have things to do.” “Heh? I wanna stay and talk to Wil-“ “Well, to bad. We’re going home.” You grab Techno and dragged him off to his house.

That was a fun one to write! I hope you enjoyed gremlin!! And I got no clue how to write for foolish, so sorry about that :(