#fun fact here is my initial tags from like. two years ago when i fucking finished this bitch (current thots in pararentheses)

[paigemathews]

abi’s three hundred one hundred follower celebration: choose your three favorite charmed ships | chris halliwell & bianca atwood

the absolutely chokehold these two have on me. enemies to lovers. changing sides and becoming a better person. finding love when you didn’t think yourself worthy of it. finding this one piece of happiness is a world destroyed and having to sacrifice it to the save the world that never did anything for you. risking your love on the hope that you’ll meet again in a new world.

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 3 - Call

Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Solo & Mutual Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Phone Sex 

Summary: With Gojo away on a mission, you decide to take the initiative by calling him for a little bit of fun.

A/N: ~

- - - 

Two months into your little arrangement with Gojo, you began noticing how certain aspects of your friendship started changing.

For one thing, Gojo could barely keep his hands off you. When you would sit next to each other, he would drape his arm lazily around your shoulder as if it belonged there. When having idle conversations with him talking about work or gossip, he would stare at you attentively while stroking your thigh. Most recently, while you were hanging out at his place, you were caught off guard when you felt him brush your hair away before delicately planting a kiss on your forehead.

At first you thought about telling him to stop, figuring his actions might be overstepping the boundaries you both set up. However, you changed your mind when you realised how nonchalant his behavior was. You figured his intentions were purely based on the fact that he could touch you in ways that he wasn’t allowed to before. Besides, Gojo was really good about ensuring not to make a serious move when the two of you decided to hang out instead of “drink” together.

You were surprised with how easily he switched from his fun, lovable self to the insatiable beast that would have you submit to his every word. Initially, you couldn’t bring yourself to make the first move around him, using a simple manipulation tactic of distraction that would ultimately force Gojo to take action.

Then the night at his apartment happened, where he had you flat across his kitchen counter while his tongue was working magic between your legs until you were unraveling in front of him over and over again. You were calling out his name in desperation, begging him to give you a break from the overstimulation but he refused. In the end, he left your body trembling from the final orgasm he gave you before lifting you up slowly and holding you close to him. He kissed your swollen lips, all before reaching for your hand and guiding it down to his pants.

“ Learn to use me like how I’m using you…” he whispered, “...stop holding yourself back. Otherwise, I won’t fuck you.”  

“I am using you,” you insisted with a pout, your hands motioning over his hardened member as you began rubbing him over his pants.  

A soft groan escaped him and he eloquently replied, “if you won’t even kiss me when you want to, then  you sure as hell won’t be comfortable with my dick inside you…”  

He was forcing your hand and your resistance was waning. He was becoming your favorite distraction, especially on the nights when you were feeling lonely.

Gojo was away on a mission and you had no idea when he would be back. He didn’t exactly live by a normal schedule but it’s been over a week since you last saw him and you really needed to relieve some of this sexual frustration that’s been running rampant in your mind.

You texted him while on your way home from work, asking him to call you if he was free later in the evening.

Once you arrived at your one-bedroom apartment, you gave yourself some much needed time for self-care. You cooked dinner then followed up with a long shower to relax from your own tiresome work week. After applying your face routine, you changed from your towel to a pretty light blue underwear set, opting for some luxury wear instead of your usual comfort clothes of sweatpants and an oversized tee.

You took a second to admire yourself before slipping on your silk robe. You haven’t felt this beautiful in your own skin in a while, and  while you would never admit it to Gojo, you found that being desired by him made you feel good.

You’ve been in a limbo of grey since breaking up with your ex, who spent the last six months of your relationship cheating on you before leaving you for the very same person he was fucking on the side. You gave him your heart and soul, allowing yourself to fall in love with him only to be shattered in the end. He left you picking up the pieces, to slowly glue yourself back together but managed to leave an irreparable wound in your heart.

Of course, you never told Gojo the real reason why you broke up when it happened. When the announcement came, it caught your friend totally off guard.

“ What do you mean it’s over? I was planning on ordering a custom suit for your wedding!”

Gojo had no clue that your boyfriend’s unfaithfulness left you with a sense of deep rooted shame.You weren’t used to keeping secrets from him but you did not want to show how weak you were. Three years of wondering what went wrong, of trying to puzzle together why you weren’t good enough for your ex, of stopping yourself from calling him when you were alone, of suffering from your own misery...

You made your way over to your bedroom, stepping over the mess of laundry on your floor that you were choosing to ignore and falling back onto your mattress. You reached for your device to check your notifications, hovering over the chat you had with Gojo before locking your screen and placing your phone by your side.

There was still no reply.

You were growing impatient and decided to take matters into your own hands until he responded.

You tangled your fingers around the belt of your robe, thinking about Gojo’s lips on yours. You weren’t shocked to learn that he was an exceptionally good kisser. The act itself was sinfully addictive and you realised that you could kiss him forever and never get bored.

When Gojo got naked in front of you for the first time, you were surprised to find that despite his tall and somewhat lanky frame, underneath all that clothing was a sculpted being. He had muscular legs which you loved grinding against, the broadest shoulders that you desperately clung on to for support as you reached your peak and a strong torso that your body easily melted into after you climaxed. The man was physically flawless and he knew it , which made it worse for you because he played on his attractiveness to get exactly what he wanted out of you.

You loosened the robe, spreading your legs and noticing the heat building from your lower abdomen as your mind raced at the thought of him. You brought your fingers to your folds, massaging them over the lace fabric but picturing his hands instead. You were thinking of the way he would purr in that low, sexy voice of his, praising you while you were down on your knees for him.

“Mmmm, that’s my girl…”

“You’re doing so fucking well, angel…”

“Keep going, baby, I’m almost there...”  

You loved that he used these pet names on you when you were intimate with him. Even more, it was the gratified reaction from his own lips as a result of your actions that sent a chill throughout your body. You couldn’t wait to finally feel him inside you and listen to the kind of filthy words he would spill while fucking you.

Your hand slipped underneath your underwear, two fingers deep in you pumping furiously while your other hand gripped onto the bedsheet. You allowed yourself to be as loud as you wanted, putting on a performance that Gojo would surely regret missing. Even if your neighbors heard you next door, they would not be able to tell that you were on your own climaxing yourself to a fiery orgasm.

“ God , I needed that…” you sighed, your eyes falling heavy as you slowly came down from your solo session.

Feeling significantly better, you stretched your arms overhead before glancing over at your phone and laying by your side. A little disappointed but not surprised that Gojo still hasn’t responded.

***

You sat up, dazed and unaware of when you fell asleep. You were surrounded by darkness except for the luminous glow that flashed from your phone. You glanced over your shoulders to find it ringing, squinting for a second to try and see who was calling you at this extremely late hour.

“Hello?” you finally answered, realizing that your throat was dry from your deep sleep.

Gojo sang your name on the receving line, his tone surprisingly energetic. “I got back to the hotel a little while ago and saw your text. Did I wake you?”

You checked the time before replying, “it’s three o’clock in the morning what do you think?”

“ I’m sorry, ” he cooed. “I can let you go back to sleep if you like...”

“No, it’s fine, I’m awake...” you replied, adjusting your position so you were sitting against the frame of your bed.  “Late night?”

“Yeah…”

“All okay?”

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head over...”  

You swallowed hard at his comment. Of course you were concerned for his safety but Gojo never revealed what he dealt with and sometimes you felt irrational for being scared about something you knew so little about.  Yes, he loved bragging about his victories against curses he deemed as weak but ones that posed an actual challenge to the sorcerer?

Those ones he refrained from talking about.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your lovely text?” Gojo asked, changing the subject upon hearing your silence.

“It’s been stressful at work this week. We have a new project coming up and our boss is up in arms about ensuring it all goes well, which means I’ve been working late most nights…” you paused before continuing your explanation, “I feel kind of silly complaining about it now but I just thought I would call for a fun chat. You know? Get my mind off some things?”

“What kind of fun are we talking about here?”

You smiled to yourself, “we never actually figured out how to grab drinks while you were away…”

“ Ahhhh …”  Gojo teased, a hint of amusement in his tone as he perked up at your words. “I should have known. You don’t usually ask me to call you while I’m gone. Not going to lie, you had me a little concerned...”

You blushed at the thought of him worrying about you, “I don’t want to keep you up though, it’s late anyway. You must be exhausted…”  

He cut you off with a chuckle, “...same rules still apply even if I’m away. If you just texted me with our usual message, I would have called with a much better hello. Let me guess, I already missed out on some of the fun ?”

“ Maybe… ” you seductively replied.

He clicked his tongue in disappointment, “that’s a shame…”

“I know and I’m wearing the lace set you like so much…” you added, coaxing him with your teasing words.

“Mmmm, I do love how you look in blue.” he stated. “Tell me, what exactly were you thinking of when you decided to have “fun” by yourself?”

“Before I answer that, I just need to know something…”

“What is it?”

“Do you have your blindfold on?”

“No…” Gojo replied, slightly confused.

You tapped the back of your phone lightly, “well, well...looks like I’ll just have to wait then...”

“Are you serious? I can’t even see you!”

“It doesn’t matter! If you won’t take it off when we are together then you have to wear it at all times...that’s what you said…”

You could feel Gojo rolling his eyes at you. “Fine, fine! Give me a minute…” he huffed.

You giggled to yourself, humming as you waited.

“ Smart ass,” he teased, letting you know that he was back on the line.

“Hey, I’m just playing by the rules!”

“And I’m ready to play with you ... ”

Before you knew it, Gojo had ordered you to get naked. You were tangled up in your sheets, your body writhing from his dirty talk as you masturbated. Gojo kept saying how much he missed being buried between your legs, how much he wanted to taste that sweet cunt and how desperate he was to fuck you.

“Mmm, you’re such a fucking tease, doing this to me while I’m away...you best believe that once I’m back I will fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk straight...”

You mewled in response, feeling yourself so close to your release that you could not speak.  

“ Say it, ” Gojo directed, knowing that he can barely hold on himself due to the sounds of your pleasure. “I want to hear you say it…”  

Gojo went silent, his breath growing heavier as he was losing himself to the moment. You could hear him pumping his cock, finally pushing himself to his own release. A moan escaped you, your back arching off the bed as you parted your lips to speak. Your voice pitched as you whimpered into the phone and telling Gojo the exact words he has been dying to hear.

"I want you to fuck me, Satoru..." you begged. "Please, fuck me ...”

- CHAPTER 4: DOMAIN - 

[starrynite7114]

roommates: four

A/N: Hello everyone! Happy weekend! Hope your week has been a good one! So my brain has been going 100mph. I’m trying to calm it down and focus on one thing, but that’s proving to be hard. LOL BUT I’M TRYING. Sorry the updates are taking longer, I’ve been getting ideas and it just takes over my brain. School is starting back up next week so I’m going to try my best to go on a writing spree this weekend so I can try and update every week. Emphasis on TRY. But thank you for continue to support me, you all are just too lovely. 

Also, I have two Angel request I’m going to try to post since they are half way done along with the EZ request. I’m really lagging on EZ, but it will be posted. 

EZ request

Dance (Angel)

Always you (Angel)

Lake Part Two

Sex Guru Angel

Everything is you: part 12

Graduation (EZ request)

Rio request

Two Daddy Angel request: Snuggling and Trip to the aquarium

Groupchat for updates! Please join since the tags could be a bit iffy at times!

If you would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know! My tag list is a little messy, but please let me know if you want to be added!

Masterlist

roommates

Word count: 7697

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, smut, angst

You looked at your closet, thinking of what to wear tonight for your date with Angel. He suggested that you wore something comfortable, casual, no dressy outfits. 

‘But if you want to wear a skirt for my benefit, by all means mami, go right ahead.’

Angel was too much, but you weren’t complaining. Ever since you agreed to go on a date a few days ago, Angel has been occupying your bed. He always reasoned that it was due to the fact that your bed was comfortable, but you’ve slept on his bed before and it was equally as comfortable. You stopped trying to kick Angel out of your bed since you enjoyed his company. And you figured it wouldn’t be long till Angel got over this need to be with you. You felt like he was just scratching some itch about going down memory lane. You didn’t think Angel was interested and you figured this need he had for you would fade. You had no plans on furthering your relationship and it was to protect yourself and Angel. Agreeing to this date, you didn’t regret it, you wanted to go on a date with Angel, see how it was after all these years. 

“It shouldn’t be this difficult to pick out clothes.” You sighed, placing your hands on your hips, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

“You don’t have to try and impress me, I’m already impressed.”

You jumped hearing Angel’s voice. You turned and found him leaning against your doorframe, looking sinfully good. His kutte was not on him for once. He was wearing a short sleeve black button up, jeans and boots. His hair was slicked back, newly trimmed along with his beard. But you had to remain strong, you couldn’t let Angel know that he made the butterflies in your stomach go wild. Or that whenever he smiled at you, you found yourself flustered since even when you were younger, Angel’s smile was your favorite thing about him. You made it your mission to keep that smile on his face. Whenever Angel was with you, you noticed how carefree he was and that’s all you could ask for. 

You and Angel were always able to be yourselves around one another. 

No bullshit, nothing. 

“Impress you? Absolutely not, I dress for me baby.” You blew him a kiss before turning back towards your vanity. “Besides, just in case I see some other good looking guy wherever we go, at least I’m dressed to impress.” That was a lie, your eyes wouldn’t leave Angel’s tonight, but he didn’t need to know that. 

“Look at you talking shit again.” Angel walked over to you just as you stood up from your vanity. When you turned around, you ran into Angel’s chest. One of his arms wrapped around you, while his hand cupped your face. Without any warning, Angel kissed you, which took your breath away as always. You thought that if you kept kissing Angel, the effects of his kiss would wither away, but you were wrong. It was like every kiss was different on a miniscule level, but it was and it always took your breath away. “This ass is mine baby.” He grabbed your ass, a moan escaping your lips. “God, let’s just order pizza and let me show you who that pussy belongs to.” He bit your ear, another moan coming out of you.

You bit your lip and looked up at him, your fingers began to unbutton his button up. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“No, no, don’t tempt me.” He captured your lips again, his hands stopping you from further undoing his buttons. “I got a night planned for us, but we can definitely have a happy ending later.” 

You laughed. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Somewhere nice, fun.” He pulled away from you to stop the temptation he faced. 

“So we’re going to a strip club?” You teased.

“Listen, if you want to go to a strip club baby girl, I’m down, but I would rather you strip this outfit for me later tonight.” He twirled you around, your skirt flowing along with the twirl. You wore a white v-neck for your top and a navy blue skirt, shorts underneath.

“Hmm, maybe.” You held up two pairs of shoes, one were heels, while the other were Air Jordan’s. 

“Heels or Jordan’s?” 

“Jordan’s, you don’t need heels where we’re going.”

“Can you just give me a hint?” 

“It would defeat the purpose of a surprise.”

“You’re annoying.”

Angel chuckled. “Learned from your annoying ass.”

Angel had been driving for forty-five minutes and the sun had setted. It was nice to watch the sunset, listening to some old school jams, and with Angel’s hand was intertwined with yours. You could get used to this, but at the same time, you had your reservations. While Angel made it clear that the scars didn’t bother him, it was still an insecurity for you. Why would he want damaged goods? It was a thought that Carmelo basically embedded in your mind. Why would anyone want damaged goods? Why would anyone want to touch a woman who had someone else’s initials carved on them? He wanted to mark you up so that no one else would want you, so he could have you, you would have no choice. It was all about choice with Carmelo. He would be your choice, your only choice. He isolated you, made sure that you had no choice but to stay with him. 

But then Medina came along and gave you a choice. 

At first, it was just an escape from your reality. 

Then the outings with his wife came about and Carmelo didn’t mind since he was mildly afraid of Medina’s wife.

Then eventually he helped you escape Carmelo.

You never asked for details, you didn’t want details. All you cared about was that Carmelo was gone.

“Baby, I lost you.” Angel softly squeezed your hand. 

“Sorry,” you offered him a smile and you noticed that he had stopped driving. Looking at the place before you, you smiled. “Angel Reyes, you want to get your ass kicked on our first date?” He brought you to your favorite mini-golf place, a date you two had plenty of times when you were still teenagers.

“This isn’t our first date and kick my ass?” He scoffed. “Baby, daddy’s winning this.”

“Odd term to refer to me as, daddy, but I mean, whatever floats your boat.” You shrieked as you exited your car, grabbing your stuff. 

You closed the door and Angel made his way over to you, backing you up against your car. “You’re such a shit talker today.” He smirked. “We should make this interesting.” 

“How so?” You were intrigued. 

“Let’s make a wager, if I win, you left me fuck you in your car after we finish, but if you win, you could have your way with me.” 

“Ooh, or, if I win, we go home right after this, forget the rest of your plans and you can fuck me at home.” You whispered this in his ear, making Angel groan.

“Fuck it, you win, let’s go home.”

“No,” you shook your head. “We just got here, let’s play, just so daddy can hand your ass to you.”

Angel chuckled. “Keep that energy up.”

You were currently at the last hole for mini-golf. Angel was kicking your ass, which didn’t surprise you. You always knew he let you win when you two were younger.

“I can’t wait to have those legs wrapped around me.” He whispered into your ear as you made your way to hit the golf ball.

You scoffed. If you made a hole in one, you could win. But of course, the last hole was rarely the easiest. 

“You look good sticking your ass out like that.” Angel licked his lips, the gesture was not amiss by you.

Looking over at Angel, you playfully glared at him. “You’re distracting me.”

“Is that your excuse of why you’re doing so terribly?” Angel smirked.

“Fuck you Angel.”

“That’s the plan baby girl.”

You rolled your eyes and hit the ball. And much like you predicted, you lost. Angel walked with that damn swagger towards you, but it seemed to have grown tenfold. His confidence made Angel so much more attractive. He was already an attractive guy, but this swagger, the smirk on his face, that shirt that accentuated his newly sculpted body, it was sinful.

How could you keep resisting him?

“I’m glad you wore the skirt.”

“Yeah? Why is that?”

“Easy access.”

You moaned, your fingers became entangled in Angel’s hair, your back arching as he continued to eat you out. His lips parted from your nether lips, the devilish smirk on his lips, your juices make his beard glisten.

“Fuck,” you breathed out. You would never tell Angel he was the best oral sex you ever had. Best sex you ever had, period. “I’m so close daddy.” 

“I know baby,” he spat down on your pussy, the added lubrication was not needed, but the mere act of it turned both of you on. Angel slid in two fingers in you, your skirt was bunched up above your stomach, Angel watching his ringed fingers disappear in you. His rings would bump against your entrance, the cold metal making the experience that much more erotic. “So fucking tight like always.”

“Uh huh,” you panted. “Daddy please let me come, let me come on your dick.” Control was something you rarely gave, especially with everything that happened with Carmelo. But with Angel, it was almost natural. 

Angel bit your inner thigh. “I told you that you would be begging for daddy’s dick.” His mouth was back on you once again, adding a third finger sliding in and out of you. 

“That feels so good.” You whimpered, moving your hips to meet his. 

“Don’t move.” He held your hips down, he sucked your clit in, the added sensation felt so good. You felt your legs shaking, the tears welling up in your eyes. Angel had already made you come three times prior to your impending one. “Look at you, my pussy is just clenching my fingers, wishing it was daddy’s dick. You want daddy to stretch his tiny pussy out?” 

“Yes daddy,” you begged, your hand resting on his hand that was holding your hip down. 

Angel chuckled. He increased the pace of his fingers and before long, you were arching your back, seeing stars as you screamed out Angel’s name. Angel continued moving his fingers in and out, your walls sucking him in, keeping you feeling full. Pushing him away, you moved down your folded middle seats and took a deep breath. Angel’s eyes were locked with yours, licking the juices that were on his fingers. He pulled you towards him, cupping your face as he kissed you, his tongue massaging yours, your hand drifting under his shirt. His lips hovered above yours as he stopped your hand from moving further. 

“Not yet baby, let’s eat and then I can fuck that pretty little pussy.” He gave you one last peck and moved down to sit at the edge of your trunk. You two had gotten some In N Out burgers with fries and a shake. Once you were at the lookout that rarely anyone frequented at night, Angel tore your panties off of you and ate you out. Your food was cold now, but you didn’t give a fuck, Angel gave you some of the best orgasms you’ve ever had and you hated him for it. 

You sat next to him, the wetness in between your thighs should have made you feel disgusted, but knowing it was due to Angel, it made you wetter. Angel handed you your burger. You didn’t realize how hungry you were till the burger was in your hand. You two quickly ate your burger and fries, the melted milkshake still hit the spot. Angel moved to sit behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and resting his chin on your shoulder. 

The view of Santo Padre below you was breathtaking. You always enjoyed the peace and quiet, something Angel always tried to provide for you. Whenever you were stressed out, Angel provided the escape for you and you always appreciated how well he could read you. 

“Why’d you come back to Santo Padre?” Angel always meant to ask you when he first saw that you had come back to this little town of his. He didn’t understand why you would come back, there was nothing here.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. After the whole thing with Carmelo, I wanted to disappear. Being up north just had too many memories and I was just embarrassed for everything that happened.” You leaned your head back against Angel’s chest. 

“Embarrassed?” Angel’s head lifted, looking at your side profile. 

“I was always so strong willed and wouldn’t take shit from anyone.”

“Say that again.”

You playfully elbowed Angel and he laughed, kissing your cheek. “I was embarrassed, I shunned my family and friends. Then when I finally opened my eyes, I could barely open them.” The memories of Carmelo’s abuse never waned, it was always present like it occurred the previous day. It was easier to mask your feelings or the fear you felt during those times. The scars on your back were nothing compared to the scars he inflicted within. How low you felt always came to hunt you. Confidence was always something you possessed, it was reinforced by your family along with your friends. Cheating was a deal breaker and abuse was above that. After the first hit, you always questioned yourself why you didn’t leave, then you realized that the emotional abuse started before the physical. Carmelo caught you in a low point, a patient had died on you, a nine year old and he swept in. The way he belittled you, it made you feel like an inadequate nurse and that’s when the abuse truly started. He knew how to make you feel low, reminding you that due to your inadequacy the nine year old passed. 

But you realized now that it wasn’t your fault. 

But Carmelo already had done his damage. 

It took you some time to recover, but being up north suffocated you. The further south you were the better and for some reason, you ended up in Santo Padre. Your mentor, Pierre, an older ED physician took a job in Santo Padre Medical Center and you followed. Santo Padre always held special memories for you and a change of scenery was needed. You didn’t think you would run into Angel, but fate had another thing planned for you.

“This wasn’t your fault you know.” Angel hated hearing the defeat in your voice, the embarrassment. A man who was supposed to cherish you and protect you was the one who did such incredible damage to you. Angel could not forgive that. He had to find Carmelo and kill the mother fucker. He didn’t deserve to be walking on this earth after what he did to you. 

“I know that now. He got me when I was in such a low place. He made me feel like a million dollars, but he also made me feel like I was the lowest scum in the world. I loved him, all I wanted was for him to love me. He always told me he did, that when he hit me, he was trying to correct bad behavior so that I would remain perfect.” You felt your chest tightening up thinking of Carmelo’s words. How he sunk his claws into your brain was something you never understood, but it happened. 

Angel didn’t want to indulge in going down memory lane about Carmelo, but he wanted to know just how much he hurt you. Though, Angel realized that this may not have been a good idea since he felt his blood boiling. This was supposed to be your date, he shouldn’t be fucking worried about Carmelo. But he was going to find this man and make sure he endured the pain you went through, even greater than. 

“He’ll never be able to touch you again.” Angel whispered against the side of your head. 

“Medina took care of him.”

“I know baby, but you’re with me now. He will never go near you again.” 

And you believed Angel. As long as he remained your roommate, you felt invisible, untouchable. The Mayans were well respected, well feared in Santo Padre. They didn’t need to be like, their presence invoked different types of emotions from everyone. 

“When you get married, you should let me rent out a room so you can assure I would stay safe.” Angel knew your tactic. You were subtly trying to put him in the friend zone by mentioning his future without you by his side. It was cute, but that wasn’t going to work on him. He would show you that he was worth a second chance. 

“Why would you need to rent a room when you’re going to be sharing a room with me?” 

You smiled, shaking your head. “You’re too smooth Reyes.”

“Maybe, but don’t act like I didn’t just give you a couple of mind blowing orgasms. You can keep trying to push me away, but it’s not going to work.” Angel turned your face towards him, kissing you. 

You pulled away, your eyes closed as you relished the feel of Angel’s lips against yours. “Has it always been this intense between us?” Your forehead rested against his.

“Do you just try not to remember our relationship?” He gave you a quick peck again. 

“Shut up, I do, but I don’t know.” You turned to face Angel, wanting to see his reaction to your conversation. “Sometimes I look back at our relationship and wonder what would have happened if we had stayed together.” It was a thought that was always at the back of your mind. The what ifs scenario.

What if you stayed with Angel? Where would you two be? Would you two be together? Would you two have fallen apart?

What if you decided to come back to Santo Padre after you became a nurse? Would you two have reconnected?

For years after you left, you thought of Angel often. Your connection was always strong when you were younger and at times you felt it may have been too early for you two. That if you met at a later time, things would have been different. You remembered when Angel would sneak into your room, sleep over and pretend he was coming to pick you up in the morning. It wasn’t often but you enjoyed those late nights, talking about your future. He always spoke about your future, how you would be together. Yet when you told him you love him, he just said thank you. 

He was your first love.

And they always said you’ll always love your first love.

It irked you how true it was. 

Ever since you came back, seeing how Angel grew up after all these years, the love you had for him resurfaced and it grew stronger. But you weren’t willing to take the risk. Angel never seemed interested to rekindle your relationship till recently. At times, before this whole thing when you would share a bed, you would watch Angel sleep. He had no worries in the world and had to always be touching you while you were asleep. His arms and legs didn’t have to be around you, at times, his fingertips were just touching your arm and he was good. Or his arm would be against yours as he slept on his stomach and it helped his craving to be always touching you.

Angel wasn’t sure when it started, maybe it was after the first time you two shared a bed, but regardless, Angel craved your touch. It was his love language. 

“We’d be married by now with at least three kids.” Angel’s answer was so firm and sure. 

You grinned, shaking your head. “Yeah? You’re so confident about this.”

“Listen, just because we broke up or we were young, it doesn’t mean our relationship was nothing. I knew that I wanted you for the rest of my life then and it hasn’t changed now. You came back to Santo Padre in your own accord and I knew that meant that this was our second chance and I wasn’t going to fuck it up.” Angel took your hand in his, intertwining it. “I know you’re not ready, I know the wounds he left you are still fresh, but I’ll wait. I’m inpatient, but you’re worth the wait. So all these doubts in your mind? About me not wanting damage goods or your choice to not rekindle previous relationships? That’s well and fine, but I’m here to shut those thoughts down.” He didn’t want to tell you he loves you, not yet. He would wait because he knew when things became too much, your default was to just freeze everything out.

“I’m scared.”

“You have no reason to be.”

And you wanted to believe him, but it was going to take time. You just hoped he didn’t get tired of waiting.

=================

As soon as you stepped through the door, Angel was all over you. Once you managed to lock the door, he picked you up, your legs wrapping around his body. He made his way to your room, softly placed you on the bed. He unbuckled his belt and removed it, your eyes never leaving him. Biting your lip, you stood up and maneuvered him to sit down. Unbuttoning his pants, you kissed him, pulling away so you could help him remove his jeans and boxers. Once they were pooled around his ankles, you got on your knees, wrapping your hand on his cock, your thumb spreading the precum on the tip of his cock. Spitting down at his cock, moving your hand up and down causing Angel to close his eyes. You proceeded to give a few kitten licks on the head of his cock before you engulfed it in your mouth. 

Angel groaned, holding your hair together as he watched you hollow your cheeks as you moved up and down his length. His eyes rolled to the back of his head, moaning out your name. 

“Fuck baby, you look so fucking hot like this.” You moved away from him, sliding your hand up and down his hard length. You take him all the way in, swallowing around him making Angel groan once again. He was trying hard not to fuck your mouth, but you were making it difficult. Dipping your tongue at the slit on the top of his length, Angel caught the smirk on your face as he lost himself watching you engulf his length back into your mouth. Using both your hands and mouth, Angel laid back on your bed, his hand wrapped around your hair, guiding you up and down. The moans that he was letting out was turning you on, you could feel just how wet you were. Knowing you brought such pleasure to Angel, it made you feel good. “Shit, I’m coming.” You took him in deeper, Angel fucking your mouth, groaning out your name as he came. 

You let him go with a pop, you smirked as some of his cum seeped from the corner of your mouth before you put it back inside, swallowing it. 

“You’re such a good girl,” Angel sat up, his hand still entangled in your hair. He bent down and captured your lips with his, you moaned as you felt him slightly tug your hair, his lips hovering over yours. “Daddy should reward you for being so good.”

“Please daddy,” you were giving Angel total control tonight. You could always be a brat, but tonight, Angel could have you.

Standing up, you stepped away from him to remove your skirt. Your hand was at the hem of your shirt, but you hesitated. Angel saw your hesitation and he gave you a small smile.

“You don’t have to take it off baby girl, you can keep it on.” He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. He wanted to make you feel good. The last thing he wanted was for you to worry about your scars.

You bit your lip and took off your shirt. Angel’s smile widened as he saw your body for the first time. You took off your bra and threw it at him. He laughed and caught you when you jumped on him, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your lips together. One of your hands went back down to his length, moving your hand up and down wants again.

“Does daddy want his pussy wrapped around his dick?” Your lips hovered over his lips, smiling as Angel was catching his breath, his attention obviously on the sensations he felt around his length.

“Yeah baby girl, let me get my pussy.”

You positioned yourself above him, slowly sliding down his length. Moaning as your pussy stretched to accommodate him. Throwing your head back, your fingers digging into his shoulders, nails digging in on his skin.

“You’re so big daddy, it feels so fucking good.” You whimpered out as he bottomed out. 

Angel looked down at where you two were connected, biting his lips as he waited for you to adjust. You moved up and down, your walls clenching around him making Angel moan your name out.

“Baby, stop clenching my dick.” He chuckled, kissing you to help you relax.

“Sorry,” you smiled sheepishly.

Guiding you to move up and down his cock, Angel watched your face, memorizing every facial expression you had.

“You feel so fucking good baby, tight, wet, always ready for daddy.” Angel whispered against your ear. 

Your pace was slow, the burn Angel provided was basically imprinted in your mind. Ever since you two slept together, you haven’t slept with anyone and your dildo, vibrators, definitely did not compare to him, but gain, you would never let Angel know that. Angel’s fingers came in contact with your scar and you slightly froze. Before he could lose you, Angel cupped your face, brought your lips down to his. 

“Don’t, stay with me.” He thrusted up into you, your brain fogging as the overwhelming pleasure Angel was giving distracted you. Watching Angel as he licked his thumb, he pressed it against your clit, even adding greater pleasure to you. Increasing your pace, you used his shoulder as leverage as you moved up and down his length, walls clenching around him. “You’re safe, you’re with me and I would never let anything happen to you.” 

One arm was around his neck, his hand cupping his face. Your lips were above his, your breath mixing as you chased your high. Angel rubbed your clit, biting his lips as he watched you bounce on his length. 

“Yeah baby girl, daddy can feel it.” Angel latched his mouth around your breast, his tongue swirling around your nipple.

“Daddy, oh my god, just like that.” 

You threw your head back, black stars filling your vision. Both of your arms were around Angel, your walls still spasming around him. Angel peppered your skin with kisses, sucking on a few spots on your neck that was sure to make a mark. 

“You were talking so much shit not too long ago and now look at you.” Angel smacked your ass, making you yelp, biting your lip. “Have to stop fighting the inevitable querida.” He grabbed your ass, grinding you down against him. 

“You’re so determined about us.”

“I’m confident in every aspect of my life, especially when it comes to you.” 

You laughed at his comment, which turned into a choked moan when you felt Angel thrust up into you. 

“Can you get on your hands and knees for me?” He questioned, making sure you were comfortable. He wanted to show you that your scars, they were nothing to be ashamed of. It didn’t change you. He would never force you out of your comfort zone, especially about something that truly traumatized you.

“Okay.”

“Put your chest on the bed.”

You did as Angel instructed. You rested your chest against the bed, you turned your head so you could see Angel. He was looking at your back, no trace of disgust in his eyes. For once, you didn’t feel judged, scrutinized or even pitied. He just looked at your scars as if he was memorizing them.

“Angel,” you called out to him, bringing him back to you. “Come back to me.”

Angel was mesmerized by her scars. Thinking of how many times Carmelo must have hurt you, what he used to inflict such damning scars on your back. And that carved ‘C’ on your back, he tried not to focus on Carmelo’s actions, not wanting to lose himself right now, but he was angry he wasn’t there to protect you. It seemed irrational, he wasn’t part of your life then, but if remained a part of your life, Carmelo would have never been able to harm you. All he could think about was covering these bad memories up, a design to show you that with every scar, every hurt he caused and every tear you shed, there was life after and while he could never make you forget what occurred, he would build new memories to show you that you were worth it, that you were beautiful.

That you were loved.

“Sorry baby.” He kissed your back. Angel took his length in his hand, moving it up and down your slit, and pressing it against your clit, teasing you. When he finally slid in, you both groaned, your hands gripping the sheets. “Daddy’s too big, huh?”

You nodded your head, biting your lip drawing blood. At times you wondered what would have happened if you slept with Angel. You’re certain he improved his skills over the years, but fuck, you would have been addicted. And there was no shame, Angel’s stroke game was strong.

“Didn’t hear your answer,” Angel stopped moving, only the tip of his cock inside of you.

“Yes, you’re too big daddy, but I love how you stretch me out.” You gripped the tip of his cock, Angel groaning and pushing back in. You hummed, content that he was buried inside you once again. 

Angel slid in and out of you, slow, deep. His slow pace was driving you crazy. You knew he was trying to restrain himself, savoring the moment as best as he could. He heard you sigh, leaning down so his front was against your back. He moved his hands from your hips to your hands that was gripping the sheets. He intertwined your hands, placing small kisses on your upper back before moving to your neck, nipping at your skin, earning tiny moans from you as he stilled inside you again. This wouldn’t be the last time you two would be intimate, but with everything that has occurred, he was just reveling at the moment. 

“Daddy, please go faster.” You pleaded, gasping as he began to pound into you.

“Like this querida?” He moved one hand to wrap around your neck, slightly pulling you back so you were slightly lifted off the bed, while his other hand remained on yours. Angel began pounding in and out of you, the pressure he had on your neck was just the perfect added sensation. 

You moaned out his name, his hand gripping yours along with the sheets. His lips was beside your ear, grunting as continued to pound into you.

“You look so fucking beautiful.” He coaxed. He felt your walls clenching him, your impending orgasm 

“Angel,” the way you whimpered his name, it was intoxicating. It was embedded and his memories, a sound he wanted to head over and over again.

“You ready to cream daddy’s dick?” Angel was close as well, that familiar feeling at the pit of his stomach was there. His pace became stuttered, continuing to pound into you.

“Yes daddy.” 

Angel moved the hand against your throat down your front until he reached your tiny nub, the one that’s been screaming for attention. Wetting it with your own combined juices, he rubbed your clit, your orgasm almost came instantly. You cried out his name, your volume would sure have the neighbors aware of what was occurring. Angel came after you, his throbbing cock stilling inside you as he coated your walls. You felt your legs shaking as you came down from this high. Angel slipped out of you, his come seeping out. He smacked your ass, causing you to moan, but that’s all you could do. You were spent in the best fucking way.

Angel kissed his way up your body, turning your head to face him when he got to the top. He kissed you, turning your body so that you were on your back. Cupping your face, the way he caressed made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy.

“So you gonna quit playin’ and be my girl?” Angel pulled away from you long enough to ask before kissing you again. 

This man’s lips were sinful.

Hell, everything about Angel Reyes was sinful.

How was he going to kiss you after asking that? 

You sighed, pulling away so his lips hovered above yours. Opening your eyes, you met Angel’s intense stare and caressed his face with your hand. 

“I thought I was already your girl?” You teased, closing the gap between you for a quick kiss. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am, are you?” Angel wanted it to be your choice. If you needed more time, he would give that to you. 

You moved the back of your hand against Angel’s cheek, his brown eyes looking at you, waiting for your answer. The fact Angel always put the ball on your table, it was different and much appreciated. 

“Yes, I am.”

=================

You sat beside your co-worker at work, watching the clock so it would go faster and you could go to lunch. You were at the clinic today and you had a surge in the morning, but currently, you had no patients. Trying your best not to yawn, you hold it in and check your phone. Angel’s name popped up and you smiled.

Favorite Roomie 🍆😏 ‘You want some meat for lunch? 😏’

You cackled. 

‘Mmm, feeling veggies today.’

You placed your phone down feeling eyes on you. Looking over, you found your work bestie, Jasmine giving you a knowing look.

“What?” You asked.

“What did BD want?”

“BD?” You were confused by her abbreviation.

“Big dick.”

“Jas!” You playfully smack her. “He’s just being a little shit.” Lifting up your phone, Angel’s reply made you cackle once again.

Favorite roomie 🍆😏

Stop being a little shit, you a rabbit? I know your kind of rabbit. 😏 But for real, what do you want from Wendy’s? I’m in line.

You furrowed your eyebrows.

‘Nuggets and fries, and a frosty.’ ‘Also, how did you know it’s lunch?’

Placing your phone down again, Jasmine shook her head. “You two have been dating for how long now?”

“Two months?” You couldn’t believe the two months passed as quickly as it did. One day you were just roommates, the next he basically moved into your room and the next, he was your boyfriend. The adjustment hasn’t been difficult at all. Angel was always very affectionate, but the biggest difference was the intimacy. The kisses, the sex, and just the sweet little things he would do for you.

“You know it’s been a year at this point. He was just waiting for Adam to be gone and boom, slid in.” Jasmine was ecstatic for you. She was the first friend you made in Santo Padre. When you told her you lived with Angel Reyes, she applauded you. She knew of Angel’s reputation, it was hard to not know about the Mayans. From her friends who had slept with Angel, she heard nothing but raving reviews. And besides that, it seemed that Angel was a solid guy, nice, but ghosted them afterwards. But then when you spoke to her about Angel, the things he did, even she knew he was in love. Then she witnessed your interactions at the Mayans Clubhouse or the BBQ’s you two held at your place, she knew it was only a matter of time.

Picking up your phone, Angel had replied.

Favorite roomie 🍆😏

I literally eat lunch with you every fucking day. You always play like I don’t know you.😒🤔 A creature of habit.  Got it baby.  You got time to suck daddy’s dick though? 🤔 Also, did you change my motherfucking name on your phone?

You choked on the water you were drinking, shaking your head. Angel has been changing his name on your phone to future husband and you would change it back to your favorite roomie. Ezekiel was named future brother in law, which surprised you.

‘You’re too damn much.’ ‘Hmm, since you’re bringing me food, sure.’ ‘I’m not saying you don’t know me, I just didn’t think you’d keep on track of that.’ ‘Of course I did, you’re my favorite roomie.’

“Did you tell him that you got a job offer in LA from Pierre?” 

Pierre, your ED doctor friend/mentor, lived in LA predominantly and did a few shifts in Santo Padre as some community outreach. He worked at Cedars Sinai and got you a job, which was amazing since Cedars Sinai was at the center of LA and you could learn so much more.

“No, I mean, I doubt I’m going to take it.” You shrugged. 

“It’s Cedars Sinai, it would open opportunities for you.” Jasmine knew why you were hesitant, but this opportunity didn’t come by often.

You opened your mouth to reply, but Angel’s voice startled you.

“Give me your phone. Favorite roomie.” He scoffed, extending his hand towards you.

“Boy, you’re not just going to demand shit without at least saying hello.” Jasmine scolded.

Angel held his hands up. “Sorry Jas, hello, how you doing, I got you some nuggets from Wendy’s.” He handed her the bag of food he got for her. “Come on baby, phone.”

“Angel, it’s not my break yet.”

“Yes it is, it’s 12:30 on the dot. Let’s go.” 

Jasmine chuckled. “Better listen to the asshole over here.”

“That’s right. Listen to me, let’s go.”

You rolled your eyes before hugging Jasmine. Taking your phone, you followed Angel to the van and went to the back where Angel usually set up a blanket for you two to sit in and fool around if you had time.

Settling on the blanket, you take out your food and your mouth watered. “You’re the best babe.” 

“Yeah I know,” he leaned over to give you a kiss and grabbed your phone. He unlocked your phone, keeping your phone away as you tried to grab it. “If you change this shit one more fucking time, I’m going to cuff your hands and edge you.”

You gave Angel an incredulous look, pushing him. “Angel, why do you keep changing it? Are you not my favorite roomie.”

“I’m not your fucking roommate, I’ve been upgraded to boyfriend.” Angel scoffed. He didn’t want to be offended by your constant need to change his name on your phone. He figured it was some weird defensive mechanism you had since you were the worst with change. He was surprised you had decided to move to LA, but he realized that you grew up in Los Angeles and moved to Santo Padre at the beginning of high school. He remembered how closed off you were and didn’t really open up till sophomore year and once you did, you and Angel clicked. 

“Should I put favorite boyfriend then?” You teased him. The word husband had such certainty to it. You two had just begun dating. Sure, you two dated in high school and you two have been roommates for years, but that didn’t equal immediate marriage.

“Or you can stop playing and put future husband.” Angel rolled his eyes as he took a bite from his burger, shoving a few pieces of fries in his mouth. “We have a party at the clubhouse later, what time should I come get you?”

“Come get me? Angel, I’m not going. I’m going out with Jas, you know this.” You took a bite of your nuggets, leaning against the van. “And don’t even say bring her to the clubhouse, we’ve been planning this for weeks.” Captain Marvel came out and you and Jas had been planning to see it since it was announced.

“Shit, that’s right. Stop by afterward?” He suggested. Being with you was easy for Angel. Eating lunch with you every day, cooking with you at home, grocery shopping, cuddling, laundry, fucking, building furniture you get for the apartment, and fucking, it was all easy for Angel. What he was finding difficult was when you would be lost in your own world, or revert back to just putting this distance between you two as just friends. A few nights ago, you had locked the door and he came home late, he knocked on your door till you finally answered, and you were slightly irate then apologized for locking the door on him. 

“Okay.” 

You two ate in silence, both of your attention mostly on your Instagrams. Angel didn’t like this type of silence between you two since it was just awkward. You two could usually talk about random topics, but as of late, if you two were together, you would occupy yourself with your cell phone. 

“You’re serious about us, right?” The insecurities Angel had screamed at him on the daily. His feeling of inadequacy stemming from him being in the shadow of his younger brother. The love he never felt from his own father, being second best. His mother tried her best and Angel felt she did love him, but his father was a different story. With the hesitancy and the hot and coldness you presented towards Angel, it frustrated him. While he was sure of his feelings for you, he felt that while you seemed present in the relationship a majority of the time, there were times where it seemed like you two weren’t together, that you two were just friends. He felt like he was your fuck buddy. 

You gave him an incredulous look and raised an eyebrow. “Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You understood Angel’s questions in some way. You could be hot and cold, which made you feel terrible, but it was hard not to be. Keeping a distance between you two was the safer option for now. 

“I don’t know Y/N. At times, I feel like you’re just not in it. We literally eat together every day, so why ask me how I know it’s your lunchtime? You keep changing my name on your phone and girls usually find that shit cute. You know, I just don’t understand why you have this wall up between us. I’m committed to us, I’ve been committed.”

A frown appeared on your face, not liking how you made Angel feel. It wasn’t on purpose. You did this with almost every man you dated or boyfriend after Carmelo. If you didn’t get incredibly attached, you wouldn’t miss red flags like you did with Carmelo. Keeping yourself above the water, and alert, you wouldn’t have to worry about falling back into such blindness.

“It’s not on purpose. I told you, damaged goods remember?” You could feel his intense eyes trained on you, while your eyes remained on the nuggets on your lap. “Maybe this is too soon? Or I’m just not ready.”

“You fucking dated Adam.” Angel let out in frustration. 

“Yes but Adam doesn’t have any added complications with him. I had fun and my only worry is basically just my job. There was no stress with him because,” you paused, trying to form the right words. “I didn’t love Adam, he was fun to have around and I never had to worry about losing myself with him. But with you, every time I’m around you, I find myself falling even greater. If we ever broke up, I would lose our friendship. If I lost myself in this relationship, I may not catch red flags like I did with Carmelo.” The seriousness of this conversation was weighing heavy on you. You didn’t want to have this conversation during a fucking lunch break. “Fuck, can we please talk about this later? This isn’t the right place for this.”

“Nope, you’re going to find some way to ghost me. You don’t think I’m afraid of that too? You’re not fucking damaged goods, stop saying that. What Carmelo did to you was despicable, but look where you are now. You’re an amazing woman. You are also a woman who wears her heart on her sleeves and gives her all.” Angel watched as you fidgeted with your fingers, moving your food every once in a while. “I understand why you’re hesitant mi cielo, but, I’m not Carmelo and I never will be Carmelo. I’m in this relationship for the long run, I have no thoughts about us breaking up or anything fucking ridiculous like that. Open your heart to me Y/N, I’ve never hurt you once.”

“You said thank you.” The night of prom was still so fresh in your mind. You knew then that you and Angel weren’t going to last much longer.

“What?”

“When I told you I love you, you said thank you.” You smiled sadly, closing your food and placing it on the bag. “I should go, my break is over.”

Angel watched as you exited the van.

“Fuck!” He yelled out. 

He said thank you because he knew you two were going to separate. If he acknowledged his feelings for you, if he told you he loved you, he wouldn’t be able to let you go. 

And now, of course it would bite him on the ass. 

=================

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[wonderlustlucas]

jack pot ; part 1 - hwang hyunjin

⇢ prompt You know it’s bad when you’re high as a kite and he’s still on your mind. ⇢ pairing hwang hyunjin x female reader, seo changbin x female reader for like 2 minutes ⇢ word count 7.5k ⇢ genre fluff, angst (not heavy, just in a slow burn kind of way), slight smut ⇢ warnings drug use!!! & lots of it (marijuana), grinding, implied smut ⇢ summary College is a matter of working hard and playing hard. It’s an opportunity to start fresh, to grow as an individual and to blossom with those you befriend. People come and people go, leaving their mark on your life and showing you all the parts of becoming an adult. Some, however, do more than leave their mark. Some take just as much as they give. Things become complicated once they take the entirety of your love because you outright offered it to them.—college!au ; stoner!au ; friends to lovers!au ⇢ a/n yo!!! disclaimer: this initially was going to just be a long one shot but i decided to split it up into 3 parts, so just to let u all know part 1 & 2 does not have a ton of hyunjin interaction, they’re more character/plot building. part 3 is when things will get spicy ♥︎ i hope u enjoy! if u rb make sure to let me know what u thought in the tags mwah also i finally switched from ___ to yn are u guys proud of me :)

prelude.

Sometimes you really, truly, honestly think you could go right ahead and kill Han Jisung.

You say it all the time. Sometimes it’s a simple, “I will literally kill you,” or when you are feeling extra spicy, “Sleep with one eye open tonight.” He, of course, laughs it off like you aren’t vibrating with the urge to kick his kneecaps in. You seriously have lost count of all the times he has brought you to the brink of insanity.

And honestly, you have watched enough murder documentaries on Netflix that you probably could do it, but, you know, spending the rest of your life in prison does not sound that appealing. Plus, there’s the ever-troubling detail that Han Jisung is the closest thing you have to a best friend. So, it sort of goes against your basic human morals to backstab—literally—the most important human in your life.

But he really makes you crazy. Why you agreed to share an apartment with him in the first place is a mystery, but the fact that you leased it again for junior year is what really makes you lose sleep at night. Because, while he may be your best friend, Jisung is the epitome of a little shit. If such a compound word was in the dictionary, it simply would say ‘Han Jisung.’ Somehow, though, it makes you love him even more. Maybe it’s true that ‘opposites attract,’ or, perhaps, maybe it’s because no matter how much embarrassment and general self-loathing he may have caused you in the past, it has benefitted you in the end.

For example, his constant teasing about your lack of friends eventually led to you befriending a group of girls you always admired from afar. His snarky comments concerning your nonexistent social life finally got to you and now you can proudly wear the title of one of the best beer pong players in your class. His presence in general has taught you to stand up for yourself and what you believe in, whether it’s against him, your parents, a toxic friend, hell, even a professor. Proving people wrong, especially Jisung, is your favorite pastime.

Sometimes, though, it’s not that easy.

There’s one area in your life where you have accepted defeat. One area in your life where Jisung has his most fun. One area, or, perhaps one person, where you simply cannot step beyond your comfort zone.

Hwang Hyunjin is your Achilles tendon and Jisung is the arrow. There are times, along with all the times you’ve considered strangling Jisung in his sleep, where you have sat and actually prayed to the gods to send someone else. Someone not nearly as perfect as Hyunjin and someone not nearly as unattainable. Alas, these prayers, hook-ups, Tinder dates, anything to get him off your mind has proved futile; because here you are three years later, stuck with this stupid, absolutely infuriating crush on the only boy who has ever owned your heart because you outright gave it to him.

one.

You are beginning to think the two bubbly junior girls who led the campus tour you attended last year lied about the dining hall.

Correction: they one hundred percent lied.

Because even though the newly renovated food court looks nice—unscratched linoleum floors, shiny marble countertops and all sorts of seating to choose from—there must be something fishy going on with the cooks. Literally. Just last week, an upperclassman had a breakdown when she forked into her tuna (why anyone would want college seafood is another story) to find a worm right there in the middle of it. You have found little shards of glass in the yogurt and bugs even at You-Cook, but that’s all a part of the college experience, right?

“Are you sure there’s no spiders or anything? Did you check?” Beside you, Maddie watches with furrowed brows as you spoon a hefty serving of scrambled eggs onto your plate. Chuckling, you move down to grab a few sausages and a chocolate chip muffin before they are gone for the rest of the day; Lord knows, you are only a month in and carbohydrates have quickly become your emotional support, just like everyone else. “Yes, I checked,” you assure her, hiding a laugh with your hand as she leans over to further scrutinize the eggs, “I didn’t see any arachnids.”

“Good,” she hums, satisfied with your answer, “can you grab a banana muffin for me? They’re usually at the bottom.”

Nodding, you turn back to the blessed muffin basket, pushing away blueberry, corn, double chocolate, all because Maddie has to be different and go for the macadamia nut banana.

“Are those the dinosaur socks they were selling on move-in day?” In front of you, someone asks, and your first instinct is to look down at your feet just to confirm. 8:30 calculus simply turns your brain to mush and remembering how you dressed for the day is near impossible. “Yes!” Laughing, you lift your leg to get a closer look at the cute green t-rexes on skates. “I was sold once I heard they were a dollar.”

Tearing your gaze away from said socks, you look up and suddenly feel as if you have bumped into an angel. Maybe there were spiders in the eggs, deadly poisonous spiders that crawled up the spoon while you weren’t paying attention and bit your hand and now you are dead and this is the angel leading you to the heavens. That, or this simply is the most beautiful human you have ever seen up close and your brain does not know how to process it. Well, maybe that’s a little extreme, but you definitely have never been so starstruck in your life.

The boy in front of you says something but you don’t hear it, senses and thoughts momentarily Off™ as you gawk at him. Aside from the deep undereye bags you all have claimed the past few weeks, this stranger is as close to perfect as you can get. Sure, Seungmin and his roommates are pretty cute—but what the fuck?

Something tells you that you have been silently staring at him, wide-eyed and mouth hanging open for far too long when his brows raise in a mix of confusion and expectation. Shit. What did he say? Synapses suddenly shooting like fireworks in your brain, you desperately try to remember his reply but instead, all you had focused on was the plumpness of his lips as he spoke and not the words themselves.

Clearing your throat, you blink once, twice, hoping you were hallucinating the whole time and the boy in front of you is not Hercules incarnate.

Lucky for you or him, you can’t tell, but he is still as attractive as he was two seconds ago. “Sorry, what?” You blurt, loud, too loud, flinching at the sound of your own voice. Instead of recognizing that you are totally off your rocker, he smiles, a soft, toothy smile that has your muscles turning to goo.

“I said I bought them, too,” cutest-boy-in-the-universe repeats, looking down and you follow his gaze, “my roommates were making fun of me, so I’m glad I finally found someone who bought them.” Alas, as he tugs at the fabric of his jeans to slightly lift the cuff you see that he, too, wears the same socks. You think you’re in love.

“Well, your roommates clearly have no taste,” you deadpan, shakily meeting his eyes once he looks back up. He laughs softly, eyes scrunching at the action and you positively swoon until silence settles over you and he takes the opportunity to regard you, gaze sweeping down your frame and up again. You hold your breath because, 1) holy shit, you would get on your knees for him right now and 2) you suddenly wish you were wearing more than the ‘just-woke-up-to-get-pegged-by-calc’ fit.

“I’m Hyunjin,” he finally says and you release all the air trapped in your lungs. “YN,” you return, grasping his outreached hand and thanking the heavens it is as sweaty as yours. “Well, it was nice to meet you, YN,” Hyunjin proceeds, releasing your hand and offering a gentle smile.

“You too, Mr. Sock Man,” you grin, rocking on your heels and realizing with a pang of disappointment that your breakfast has probably gone cold. Well, that’s okay, because right now you are totally content standing here in the middle of the dining hall, silently staring at this Hyunjin with a stupid smile plastered on your face. And the best part? He apparently is just fine doing that, too.

“YN!” Somewhere behind you, Maddie calls your name and it thrusts you head-first back into reality. “Did you find a banana muffin? I can’t find— oh. Who’s this?” Appearing beside you, visibly shocked having found you in a staring contest with a very tall, very cute boy. “Oh, uh,” you huff out a laugh, scrambling to get yourself together, “Hyunjin, this is Maddie, my roommate. Maddie, this is Hyunjin. We have the same socks.”

Brows shooting up at the puzzling introduction, Maddie bites back a laugh and looks back and forth between you and Hyunjin. “Well, you don’t hear that every day,” smiling to hide her confusion, she offers him a small wave with her hand full of muffin packs, “nice to meet you.”

Hyunjin smiles in return, gaze quickly returning to you. “I’ll be off, then. Gotta get the waffles while they’re still warm. I’ll see you around.”

And before you know it, he’s off toward the other end of the breakfast counter.

“Um, what the fuck?” Maddie whispers excitedly as you make your way toward your usual table, elbow repeatedly jabbing into your side. “I have no idea what just happened. I think I’m dreaming,” you sigh blissfully, relieved to find that Jisung and Seungmin were able to claim your favorite booth. “No, definitely not dreaming. He’s totally into you. You have to hang out.”

“What?” You sputter, nearly tripping over your own two feet. Then, lowering your voice as you near the two boys, “I – no, he isn’t. How can you tell? That was like, the cutest guy I’ve ever talked to, and you think he’s into me?”

“Who’s the cutest guy ever?” Jisung pipes up, eyes lighting up and you curse him and his fucking bat hearing.

“No one,” you grumble, smiling softly at Seungmin when he gets up so you don’t have to sit on the end, leaving Maddie to sit next to the other one. “Is it me?” Jisung grins with a flutter of his eyelashes. He’s convinced the only reason you dislike him is because you’ve actually fallen in love with him, but that’s far from the truth. You don’t even dislike him—he’s just one of the first guys you’ve met who meets your sarcasm with as much ferocity, and that is a hard pill to swallow.

“In your dreams, Han,” you sneer, gracing him with a dramatic eye roll before tearing open the bag of your muffin. Comfortable conversation quickly falls into place as you eat, complaints about your classes, Seungmin trying to convince you to join them at the first party they will be attending while Jisung mocks you for wanting to stay home, Maddie asking where Felix is and Seungmin explaining that he got so high last night he ended up staying up past four playing Overwatch and is currently sleeping past all his classes.

Then, in the midst of guzzling your apple juice, Jisung leans out of his seat to call down the aisle. “Hwang! Come pull a chair over!”

Curiosity peaked, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and crane your neck to see over Seungmin’s fat head for who this ‘Hwang’ could be until, like the universe is really trying to kill you, the Hyunjin you met not even ten minutes ago has reached your table. “Hey,” he grins brightly, dabbing up the two boys before he glances to you, mouth promptly falling open. Certain you mirror the same expression, you struggle to find your words as Jisung and Seungmin look between you in shared confusion. “First we share socks, now it’s these dumpheads?”

Ignoring the way they scowl, Hyunjin giggles shamelessly and grabs a chair from an adjacent table to sit at the head of your booth. “It would seem that way.”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. You guys know each other?” Jisung scoffs in disbelief, pointedly looking at you as if you’ve gone and disproved everything he pegged of you. “We just met,” Hyunjin replies with a shy smile, sparing you a quick glance before cutting into his waffle. Jisung looks to you and you offer an affirmative nod.

“And how are you guys friends?” Maddie asks, sensing your panic. “He’s Changbin and Minho’s roommate,” Seungmin answers.

You choke on a mouthful of juice.

“Christ, you good?” Seungmin snickers, offering a few slaps to your back. With a muffled yes, you look to Hyunjin with pleading eyes. “Please don’t tell them I said they have no taste.”

He laughs, arching a brow at you. “No way. They’ll get a kick out of that.”

“Oh, Christ,” faking a cry, you bury your face into your palms, “so much for making friends.”

“It’s okay, YN,” Jisung soothes with faux sympathy, “no one wants to be your friend anyway.”

Scoffing, the table quickly falls silent when you look up with rage in your eyes. “I bet when someone asks your parents about you, they change the subject,” you spit, shooting daggers at him before stabbing your fork into an innocent chunk of egg. To your utmost surprise but total delight, the other three burst into a fit of laughter, leaving you smirking smugly and Jisung sulking.

“Anyway,” Maddie promptly changes the subject back to her chemistry professor who has started every class playing Britney Spears. Tucked away in your corner finishing the last of your sausage and stifling the urge to get up for more, it isn’t until Hyunjin begins to speak do you realize that you have been quietly watching him the entire time. You would blame the soft morning sunshine shining through the windows and illuminating the right side of his face for making him look so ethereal, but you know that isn’t the case; from short, messy black hair, silver hoop earrings, thick, defined brows, the soft curves of his nose and the pouty fullness of his lips, you are totally, completely mesmerized.

And then, the sole of a sneaker is slammed right into your shin. “OW!” You yelp, loud, and for a moment you forget the pain in favor of the embarrassment that comes with the number of heads that turn to look at you. “Sorry. Bit my tongue,” you lie, earning an unconvinced look from Maddie. “Go on,” you nod toward Hyunjin to continue whatever he was saying before directing a furious glare to Jisung, who fails to hide his triumphant smirk as he enthusiastically types on his phone.

Just as you have bent down to rub at your throbbing leg, your phone vibrates twice against the table.

han jisung [now] stop staring, ur lucky hwang is as dense as a rock or he would have left a long time ago bc of you

han jisung [now] so THAT’S the ‘cutest guy ever’ huh? so ur straight after all

Squeezing your hands into fists, you prepare to fire back a reply that will have him crying. But he has different plans.

“Oh, Hyunjin, did YN tell you she’s a dancer, too?” He exaggerates your previous mention of dancing and has the audacity to wink at you. Thanks, Mr. Match Maker.

“Really?” Hyunjin gasps excitedly, eyes lighting up and totally missing the flabbergasted what? that sputters from your lips.

“I – well, no,” you hiss, scowling at Jisung, “I used to do ballet when I was younger but that’s it. Why, though? Do you dance?”

“He’s here on a scholarship,” Seungmin explains, “and minors in creative writing.”

“Oh,” you squeak, glancing to Hyunjin who is all but smiling like a cherub, completely oblivious, “that’s amazing. You must have a crazy schedule.” Chewing the last of his waffle, he hums in agreement. “Yeah, it gets really stressful at times. But it’s worth it,” Hyunjin chuckles. Then fucking winks.

Unable to hold his gaze, you whip your head back around in a panic and reach for the mere sip left of your juice. “Speaking of crazy schedules,” he hums, slapping both Jisung and Seungmin on the shoulders, “I must head out. This was fun. I may start crashing the party more now.” Rising from his seat, Hyunjin swings his bag over a shoulder and grins brightly. Realizing it would be rude to not say goodbye, you force yourself to look back to him and offer a feeble wave.

“And YN, don’t bite your tongue when you eat, yeah?”

You’re going to pass out.

two.

Felix likes to think of you as his corrupted child when it comes to smoking weed.

A few weeks before you would all be returning home for winter break, he came knocking on your door with a proposition. “No one wants to smoke with me. Do you want to?”

This, for sure, was not what you were expecting on a cold Tuesday night in December. Despite the general curiosity and always wanting to ‘try it’ simply to feel like a teenager breaking the rules, you told him you never smoked before. “I know,” he said with a smile, “that’s why I’m asking.”

So, you agreed. Reaching for your hand, Felix snuck you out the window and led you halfway across campus to the junior parking lot, giving you ample opportunities to back out when he felt how badly you were shaking. “Whose car is this?” You laughed in disbelief when he unlocked a beaten-up Nissan near the outskirts of the lot.

“Kim Woojin. The junior?” He replied once you settled in the passenger seat next to him. “Oh.” You blinked, confused. “He lets you smoke in his car?”

“He gets me weed, too,” Felix giggled, reaching into the pockets of his sweatshirt and coming out with two tightly wrapped blunts, each about two inches long, “I’ll turn the heat on a little so we don’t freeze but we have to keep the windows open. I’m not going to have you hotbox for your first time.” You had no idea what that meant, but you agreed nonetheless.

With a brief lesson on what to do that truly made no sense until you tried it for yourself, Felix lit the blunt, took a few small hits to get it started, and then passed it to you. Holding it gingerly between your thumb and index finger, you brought the unlit end to your lips and sucked as he instructed ‘like a straw,’ breathing it into your lungs and ignoring the faint taste of smoke. Unsure of when to stop, it wasn’t until your throat felt as if it was on fire did you realize just how much you had inhaled.

“Shit,” you wheezed, coughing and choking and watching with wide eyes at the amount of cloudy white smoke that left your mouth and nostrils. Passing it back to Felix, you scrambled for the cold water bottle he brought along, downing half of it in one go to soothe the burn. “Good?” He asked, blowing out the window and turning back to you with eyes full of concern.

“Yeah,” you huffed, “give me a few, though.”

Humming in agreement, Felix connected his phone to the car’s Bluetooth and began playing what he calls his ‘getting high playlist,’ and before long, you fell in love with the feeling.

When break was over, you were dying to try it again. Felix was more than happy to be of service.

For all of March, it turned into a daily thing.

Now, you try to smoke only once a week for the sake of not dying, or something.

australian felix kjellberg❤️ [now] come hang at 201?

When the text notification pops up in the corner of your laptop screen amid your YouTube binge, your bones jitter with a mix of dread and excitement.

Dread, because that’s Hyunjin’s room. Excitement, because that’s Hyunjin’s room.

Maddie must hear your sigh. “What’s wrong?” She asks from her cozied position in bed, hand deep in a bag of popcorn.

“It’s Felix,” you start, “but he said to go to Hyunjin’s room.”

She blinks, unfazed. “And? I don’t see the problem here.”

“Well, I don’t know,” you count on your fingers, “first, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin sober. Second, I don’t know how to act around Hyunjin high. Third, I am very touchy when high. Fourth, Hyunjin is always touchy.”

Maddie scoffs. “That’s a pretty lame argument, YN,” she laughs, “isn’t that what you want to happen?”

“Well,” she’s got a point, “yes, but it still makes me nervous. He makes me nervous.” Closing your laptop, you shimmy out of bed and debate changing out of your cotton shorts and tee shirt. Nah. You’ll probably end up going back to Felix’s and sleeping there. You put a sports bra and deodorant on and call it a day.

Maddie finds this hilarious. “You know what should make you nervous? The fact that you’re usually the only girl getting high with, what? Six guys? You know they all want to fuck you.”

“I try not to think about that, actually,” cringing, you try to erase Felix’s voice when he’s high as a kite or Changbin’s arms from your mind, “and you don’t know that. Sometimes Ryujin and Lia are there. Or, you know, you could always come. You don’t have to smoke, just come hang out. I know you want to give Minho a fat smooch.”

Her nose wrinkles in disgust. “I love you, and I appreciate the invite, but I don’t feel like babysitting a bunch of stoners, even if Minho is there.”

Laughing, all you can offer her is a shrug. “I don’t blame you,” grabbing your phone, wallet, and charger, you make your way over to her and bend over to press a goodnight kiss to her forehead, “if you need me, don’t. I’ll probably be dead.”

“Oh Lord,” Maddie cackles, watching you struggle to open the window, “don’t die. I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“I’ll try,” you grin, military saluting once you’ve managed to flop over the ledge. With one last wave, you close the window behind you and thank admissions for giving you a room on the first floor.

[9:34 PM] YN: omw now, gather your forces to help me in :)

Nights in 201 are always interesting. First, their room is on the second floor, so climbing through the window is an experience. Things would be a hell of a lot easier if you could just walk in and out of residence halls as you please, but with the officer at the front desk documenting who comes in and who goes out, there would be a knock at the door at midnight asking you to leave. Second: as Maddie said, 201 means the whole squad is showing up. And when the whole squad shows up, you’re bound to feel a mix of anxiety and desire deep within your bones no matter how hard set you are on Mr. Hwang. And third: you know you’re in for one fucked up night.

[9:42 PM] YN: hereee

Standing awkwardly behind their building, you try and calm the nerves that always come when you know you will be with Hyunjin. Considering how close the two of you have become over the past few months, one would think you would have gotten a grip on those pesky feelings.

Yet again, it’s kind of hard to do that when he looks and acts like that all the time.

When the window slides open, you are expecting Changbin to hang halfway out for you to grab on to with the rest of them holding onto his legs. Instead, a tall, metal ladder of sorts is pushed out until it lands with a thud! at your feet, granting you a perfect staircase into the room.

Well, you certainly don’t see that every day.

Blinking in confusion, you do not know whether to focus on the crowd of boys waving at you from above or this abomination of a stepstool that was practically thrown out a window for you. Accepting the chain of events as just another fever dream of an experience in 201, you shake your head and begin to ascend on shaky legs, graciously taking Jisung’s hand and clinging to both him and Seungmin as they help you into the room. “Thanks,” you huff, giving them both a hug in return to their chivalry. And they dare say it’s dead!

Behind you, Changbin and Hyunjin lift the ladder-stepstool mutation back into the room and it isn’t until they have folded it into a more compact piece and set it against the wall do you speak up.

“Did you… buy a ladder?”

“Yes!” Minho bellows, thrilled by your successful entrance. “Isn’t it great?” After pulling back from a hug, he keeps his hands on your shoulders just to shake you like a bobble-head.

“Yes,” you grunt once he’s released you, head swimming, “a lot easier than hauling both me and Changbin through the window, right?” Looking to said boy, you can’t help but melt into his side when he pulls you close. “No worries,” Changbin beams, rubbing your arm, “at least we have some funny memories now.” When he moves to flop onto his bed, you realize with a shudder that you are alone with Hyunjin.

Well, technically not alone since they are all right there, but alone in the sense that they are not paying attention to you nor him.

“Hey, YN. I missed you,” he singsongs, engulfing you in one of his monster bear hugs. Disregarding the heart palpitations they may cause, Hyunjin’s hugs are truly the best and you wish you would initiate them more if it didn’t seem like such a big deal in that smooth brain of yours. “I missed you, too,” you mutter into his chest, squeezing your arms around him as if to engrave this feeling into your mind forever. “We saw each other, like, five hours ago,” he reminds you, finally pulling back and taking your will to live with him. God, he has no idea.

“And? You’re the only one here who doesn’t make me suicidal,” you lie because, in reality, he actually does. Just in a different way. “Aw,” he coos, large hand squeezing your side and you think you could orgasm on command, “good thing we have tonight, then, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you squeak, finally remembering to breathe when he steps away to sit beside Seungmin on his bed. Suddenly, you are feeling incredibly grateful no one is next to Changbin because, well, 1) he is closer to Felix and 2), you need a distraction.

“Hello, Felix,” you greet the boy sunk deep in a bean bag chair, busy grinding leaves and packing them into the bowl of a bong. “How are you this fine evening, YN?” He asks once you have settled beside Changbin, brows knitting together when the older boy drapes his arm around your waist.

“Good. Tired, though. How ‘bout you?”

“You didn’t have to come if you’re tired! We all know you work your ass off, no one’s gonna judge if you chose to stay home and sleep,” Felix expresses, giving you a look that screams ‘mom.’

“No! I’m not that tired,” you assure him, reaching for his hand and squeezing for extra effect, “you know I wouldn’t miss this. You’ve made me a pothead.”

With a proud smile, he returns to his designated job and begins working on the second, smaller bong. “So,” stretching to set your things on the desk beside Changbin’s bed, you turn to him with a knowing smile, “how’s the album coming?”

“Great!” He beams, eyes lighting up at the topic. “Jisung is a great addition. Did I tell you we started meeting with someone else, too?”

“No, who?”

“He’s a sophomore, Bang Chan?” Somewhere behind you, Felix passes a bong to Jisung for the first hit. “Bang Chan? Holy shit, Binnie,” repeatedly punching his arm to express your excitement, “that’s amazing! I didn’t know he was into music production. Not that I’ve ever talked to him, but.”

“No, I get you,” he hums, giving your side a firm squeeze, “he’s really awesome making beats. I hope we’re successful.” Then, reaching past you, he takes the second bong and a lighter from Felix. When he resituates himself, he’s considerably closer than before. You don’t mind.

“Ladies first?” Changbin offers with a crooked grin, handing them to you. Then, on second thought, he holds onto the lighter to do the honors. “Sure. Thanks,” you laugh, glancing across the room to find everyone arguing over which color to set the lights to as they wait for their high. Bringing the tube to your lips, you offer a miniscule nod to him and then he is setting flame to the bowl. Sucking strong enough to generate bubbles, you unplug the bowl once he stops and breathe in as much as your lungs can handle in one go. Then, once you have exhaled, you quickly finish what’s left in the tube before passing it to Changbin with a pleased smile.

“That was a lot,” he points out once you have handed the bong back to him. “Hey, you’re the one who kept lighting it for thirty seconds. Mother would be proud,” you joke, reciprocating the same service and lighting the bowl until he glares at you beneath his bangs.

The best part about being high is the fact that you are constantly laughing. Things won’t even be that funny, but once someone starts laughing—you’re done for. You laugh so hard it hurts, and then once it’s all over, you realize it wasn’t funny at all. “Has anyone ever told you that you look like a squirrel?” Minho asks Jisung at some point. You absolutely loose it. It quite possibly is the funniest thing you have ever heard.

Pouting, Squirrel Boy leaves Minho alone on his bed to come crash beside you. “How are you, my tender oozing blossom?”

Squinting at him past the way your eyes burn, you make grabby hands and pull him close to wrap your arms around his teeny waist. Changbin grumbles in protest, but he’s too transfixed on the light’s soft in and out fade of different colors to say anything else. “Please, don’t ever call me that again,” you mumble into Jisung’s mop of brown hair.

“What?” He gasps, tilting to look up at you with puppy eyes. “You didn’t like it?”

“Nope,” smiling lazily, you rest your head atop his, “I love you, but I’m not ready for pet names yet.” His face morphs from a frown to one lit with excitement. “Holy shit, did you just say you love me? Do my eyes deceive me?”

“That would be your ‘ears,’ but yes,” you hum, brain simply not capable of denying it the way your sober self would. “More than Changbin?” Jisung whispers.

“Yes, but don’t tell him,” you return quietly, biting back a laugh.

“More than Hyunjin?” He counters. At this, you look up to find said boy sat with his legs to his chest across the room. Next to Seungmin, he looks like a giant; but a happy, pouty giant that keeps talking about how much he could go for a winter melon tea right now.

“Never.”

One and a half (half because it was just the rest of Minho’s terribly big hit that left tears streaming down his cheeks) and an unfinished game of Cards Against Humanity later, you find yourself in a blissful headspace. The song playing quietly through Felix’s speaker makes it feel like you are bouncing down stairs and then going up again, and the lights are oh so pretty, pink fading to red, yellow to green, blue to purple and so on. Things are fuzzy but crystal clear at the same time, the popcorn you’ve been shoveling into your mouth tastes heavenly, and your body feels like it is engulfed in a warm, comforting hug.

Or, that could just be Changbin.

Somewhere in between trying to get more comfortable and him yanking you to stay next to him when you attempted to get up and hug Seungmin for something sweet he said, you now find yourself on your back with a clinging Changbin on your side. You are so comfortable, but also insanely hot, and as you begin to slowly come down from your high as the hours tick by, you begin to realize it’s for another reason.

What started as an innocent hand on your side turned into his thumb rubbing meaningless patterns against your shirt, which then turned into his hand slipping beneath to splay against the warmth of your skin. Growing increasingly needy as the minutes go by, you turn to look at everyone around you. Jisung, who found himself returning to Minho, appears to be passed out with him on the far end of the room. Seungmin, curled up on the floor with a pillow and a heap of blankets. Felix, who finished off the rest of his weed, scrolls aimlessly on his phone still at the peak of his high.

And Hyunjin, who you assume has been fast asleep on his bed for a while now if the arm flung over his face tells you anything. For a moment, you feel sick with sadness. So close, but so far he lies, always a step out of reach. But you can’t deny how Changbin makes you feel—for right now, at least. And it would be a shame to miss out on an opportunity with someone else because the one you want is unattainable.

Right?

Changbin must sense the way your breathing increases, must feel the way your body reacts to the slightest of touches, yet he takes his time. He is soft in the way his hand travels up your arm, rough fingertips grazing over your collarbones before smoothing down over your chest and abdomen. It isn’t until you are about to burst at the seams does he give your ass a strong squeeze and urge your leg over his hips.

“Changbin,” you sigh, biting your lip to keep from whimpering when he begins pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the length of your throat. “Please touch me.”

He only makes a sound of agreement, savoring the way you squirm and grip onto his arm for dear life. When he offers an experimental roll of his hips to grind against you, you practically go feral. The last time you were touched in such a way was at a party in the beginning of the semester Jisung and co. physically forced you to go to, and Changbin has barely even touched you and it’s already better than the rushed sex you had that night.

“Wait,” he huffs, pausing his ministrations no matter how difficult it is to do so, “we can’t.”

“What?” You hiss, trying to keep your voice quiet, “why?”

“Because you’re high, and I’m high, and I’m not going to do anything unless you really want me to,” Changbin explains, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips when you frown in response. “But I do want you to,” you huff, chasing his mouth for another, “I trust you one hundred percent.”

“Are you sure, YN?” What about Hyunjin? is what he really means and you know he’s right. You should have never told Felix.

Trying to ignore the wetness of your underwear, you turn to lie on your back. “Whatever. Never mind,” you mumble, and when you glance back to him, you can’t help the way your heart soars with him still pressed closely to your side, blinking tiredly at you. But like he said, it’s not Hyunjin. “Just get some sleep, Binnie. Forget it happened,” smiling past the tears that threaten to spill, you ruffle his hair and press a softer kiss to his forehead.

“I’m sorry,” Changbin whispers, returning the affection with a kiss to your shoulder. In minutes, he is snoring softly beside you.

You can’t fall asleep to save your life.

Reaching for your phone to check the time, you grit your teeth once you realize it’s almost four and you definitely have been staring at the ceiling for more than an hour. For starters, you are freezing now; unlike these passed out hooligans, you are showing a lot more skin and not being under the blankets is not doing you well. And secondly, it’s hard to fall asleep when your thoughts are flying miles a minute.

Is this how it’s going to be, then? Whenever you see someone, will the little guy on your shoulder whisper in your ear that it’s not Hyunjin? Or will people deem you off limits because they know of your infatuation? People who know, at least—Changbin is the first, apparently.

Just need to get comfy, you decide, trying to ignore such thoughts and turning to lie on your stomach. Bless Felix for leaving the lights on, too—you may be coming down from your high, but the vibe is simply immaculate. Tucking a hand under your cheek and following the ropes of light on the ceiling and up the walls, you find this to be enough to calm your nerves. Enough to make your eyelids heavy. Finally.

Someone lets out a monster train snore. Seungmin, you think, biting your lip to keep from laughing. Or, it could be Hyunjin. The thought is so amusing you can’t help but squint at the boy across from you to better see his outline, hoping he will do it again just to confirm.

No, not Hyunjin.

Because he’s facing you, eyes open, a soft smile plastered on his face. Well, fuck.

No reason to panic, you console yourself, returning a gentle smile in the assumption he can even see you. And you stay like that for a while, simply watching one another for an infinite amount of time. It’s not much, but it means something, you think, lost in the way the contours and highlights of his face change with each color the lights fade to. Just as you remember the whole point of getting on your stomach was to fall asleep, Hyunjin moves. Reaching for his phone, you watch in confusion as he brings it close to his face and starts typing.

hwang hyunjin👁👄👁 [now] Come sleep w me?

You almost throw up in your mouth. You must be dreaming. Surely.

Blinking against the harsh light of your phone, you cannot help your smile as you reread the text.

[4:02 am] YN: wont that b a little sus for bin

[4:02 am] hwang hyunjin👁👄👁: If anyone asks just say he kept kicking u or something

You don’t need to be told twice. Now that he has turned onto his side facing the other direction, Changbin does not stir once you slowly move to sit up and stand, nor when you reach for the quilt crumbled at the foot of the bed to pull over him. It’s not much, but hopefully it will keep him from waking in a few hours freezing to death. Then, as you tiptoe your way over to Hyunjin’s bed, avoiding Felix now that he’s sprawled half way off the bean bag, you cannot tell if you are still shivering from the cold or if the fact you are going to be sleepingwith Hyunjin in one, tiny single bed is finally clicking in your brain. Like Maddie said, this is something you want, right?

As you draw closer, Hyunjin shifts to make room and lifts the covers for you to quietly slip beneath. “Thank you,” you whisper, pulling the blanket up to your chin and trying to ignore the feeling of being so close to him. “Of course. You looked real cold over there,” he smiles tiredly. Then, his arm cautiously curls around you to rest by your head, fingers swiping stray hairs away from your face.

“I was,” you admit. Eyes level to his lips, you strain to look him in the eyes to resist the temptation now that he’s pulled you so close. “Changbin fell asleep and I felt bad waking him.”

Hyunjin doesn’t reply. He seems momentarily lost in thought, brows slightly furrowed as he chews on the inside of his lip.

“Do you like him?” He finally asks, voice shaky with hesitation.

“What?” You sputter, shocked at such a presumption. Yet again…

“No, no I don’t. I mean—as a friend, yes, but, you know,” you trail off, squeezing your eyes shut. You desperately wish you were not having this conversation right now. “He was touching you, though. And it looked like you liked it,” Hyunjin whispers, thumb swiping against your cheekbone.

“I mean, well yeah, I did. But I’m not close enough to like him like that. It’s just a physical attraction,” realizing you are discussing what went down with Changbin to Hyunjin, you suddenly pull back and lean up on an elbow to get a better look at him, heat now spreading up your limbs like fire. “Were you watching us, Hwang?”

“Yes,” he admits, “it’s kind of hard not to.” Your heart stops beating.

“I – what?” You manage once you have remembered how to breathe. “I didn’t know you were awake, we wouldn’t have… what do you mean, ‘it’s kind of hard not to?’”

“You know what I mean, YN,” Hyunjin mutters, arm slipping around your waist and pulling you to lie down with him again, this time, your chest pressed to his. “I like looking at you. You’re very pretty.”

You definitely must still be high, because you are seriously having a hard time wrapping your mind around Hyunjin calling you pretty, as well as being so close, and somewhere deep in your mind wonders if he knows. If he knows how your heart is on the line here. Knows that with him moving closer, you are taking a huge risk.

When Hyunjin kisses you, you forget that this could be the worst mistake you’ve made in a long time. Wrapped around his fingers, you pray this is his way of saying he feels the same.

“YN!” You wake to Seungmin gently shaking your shoulder. “YN, wake up. Your phone has been vibrating for twenty minutes now. It’s Maddie.”

The wave of panic washing over you dispels the grogginess you feel from suddenly being yanked from sleep, as well as the recognition of where you are and who you’re with. Frantic, you sit up and nod in thanks to him before taking the call. “Hello?”

“Oh, thank God you answered,” Maddie cries, voice choked, “I’m sorry, I know you’re still out, but I just threw up and I feel so terrible and when I get up I feel so nauseous. Can you come home?”

“Shit, Maddie, don’t apologize,” you whisper, rushing to grab your things as Seungmin unfolds The Ladder as quietly as possible, “I’m leaving now. Don’t move, you don’t want it to get worse. I’ll be there as fast as I can, okay?”

“Okay,” she whimpers before hanging up.

“Thank you, Minnie,” pressing a kiss to his cheek, you begin to climb down. “Is everything okay?” He asks, watching as you go with a worried frown. “Yes, it’s fine. Just a little emergency, don’t worry,” praying no one is out and about watching as you climb from the back of their building, you rush back to help Maddie as fast as you can.

You stay back in your dorm with Maddie for the rest of the weekend, fetching her water and ginger ale and food she can handle, helping her to the restroom, and binging all sorts of shows and movies with her. Seungmin, Jisung, and Minho visit Sunday evening, joining you for a few hours to watch Pokémon. You think it’s just because Minho knew it would be a good opportunity to snuggle with Maddie.

You can’t help but feel disappointed when Hyunjin isn’t with them. You refrained from telling Maddie what happened in 201, too caught up wanting to make sure she was alright, and by now you are starting to feel as if it wasn’t even real. Maybe you made the whole night up in your marijuana-infused brain. And snuggled up with Jisung, you can’t help but wish it was this annoying shit you were falling in love with.

On Monday morning, Hyunjin doesn’t show up for breakfast. On Tuesday, you find out he has been hanging out with a girl he met at his favorite boba joint and apparently won’t shut up about. First, you run back to your dorm to cry to Maddie, having to explain all of Friday night to her. When she leaves for her lab, you call Felix for an emergency smoke session. When Maddie texts that she is going to be out late working on a project, you call Changbin to tell him that you really do want him to.

Like you said, it’s just a physical attraction, right?

⇢ part 2

[maxrev]

For the kiss prompts: "in the snow" and "life or death" if I can combine them like that? your call) for an otp of your choice.

IT IS DONE...I had no idea this would explode into such a long prompt lol. I mean, I gave it a title and even added a quote xD. Anyways, here you are :) Thanks SO much for the prompt! A bit angsty but I figured the prompt called for it! 

Under the cut because...wow...

I’d like to thank @spaced0lphin for her wonderful musical work, as it provided inspiration to write this piece and @theoriginalladya for checking it over 

When I Took to the Sky 

Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time… It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other. Leo Buscaglia

Arcing through the debris, the drop shuttle came to rest amidst the debris of a ship, snow puffing up into the air as it landed; flakes sparkling as they danced and whirled in the air before once again coming to rest on the ground. Pulling on his gloves, the pilot reached for his helmet resting on the passenger seat and tugged it on, twisting it snug with a snap. 

He took a deep, steadying breath...and stepped out onto Alchera. 

Ever since Niall had received the message from Admiral Hackett about placing a memorial here, he’d been pushing it aside. A memorial to honor those who’d laid down their lives for the Alliance. Hardly seemed enough, considering how dismissive the findings the crew of the Normandy had presented. But the fact he was employed by Cerberus now was cause for surprise in being contacted. Other questions followed though; why had the Alliance waited so long to decide on a memorial? Had he not rose from the grave like Lazarus, would they even have bothered? 

Once he’d agreed, he continued to push it aside. There were other missions to take precedence, a ragtag bunch of crew members to hunt down and recruit, and the Illusive Man to annoy - his personal favorite agenda. Anything took precedence over coming here. He simply wasn’t ready to face the part of his past which had changed everything.  There was hope coming here would heal old wounds, rather than deepen them.  

His steps were measured, faltering when he came upon a piece of the Normandy, his mind thrown back in time invoking memories he’d suppressed of a life changing event from over two years ago.

Two fecking years! 

It was a constant struggle to process the passage of time; dying and then being resurrected without any knowledge of it.  

Pausing at the mako, he was thrown into the past, scenes flashing behind his eyes…Kaidan's white knuckled grip as Niall slid the tank through snow and ice up the mountain on Noveria; Ashley yelling with uncontained glee as he'd skidded close to the edge of the lava pools on Feros; Garrus' mandibles twitching when he'd observe the mako on return to the Normandy; Kaidan's resignation upon being turned down again upon his request to drive...the near kiss they'd shared inside the cab a few hours before their last drop when their world ended.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the approach of another drop shuttle.

A sound came from behind him, out of place in the absolute stillness around him. Niall whirled, one hand reaching for his maglocked weapon, the other erupting in a blue glow. Setting eyes on the source, both hands dropped to his side in shock. 

Kaidan.

Right away, he noticed he LT had changed. They’d spent so much time together; on the ship, off the ship, on the battlefield, he’d learned the LT’s subtle mannerisms. Gone was the quiet, sensitive marine soldier with stars in his eyes, the romantic he’d claimed to be back on the SR-1. In the eyes staring back at him carefully, in the posture of the man before him, there was a confidence and maturity he’d not had before. There was also doubt. 

It's me, Niall wanted to say, to reassure. It just wasn't so simple.

He watched the play of emotions in the deep brown eyes he'd dreamed about so often. Their eyes locked and he was thrown back in time. Although for him, it was only a few months ago...not two years, when they’d been sitting in the mess on the SR-1, drinking coffee and going over their notes on the Terminus. Niall had been going on about the goose chase they'd been sent on...

“I cannae believe they sent us out to the arse end of space for nothing! Wasted two fucking weeks looking for something which isnae even here.” He slammed his fist on the table, other soldiers in the mess startled at his outburst. Niall ignored them. 

“I’m sure they just wanted us out of the way but we’ll find something, Shepard. We just have to be patient.” 

Niall snorted, “My patience ran dry about an hour inta this mission. I’ll contact those doaty bampots and tell 'em what I really think.” 

Kaidan chuckled, took a sip of his coffee before answering, “Not your best idea by a long shot.” 

Winking at him and enjoying the slight blush across the cheeks, Niall smiled, “Aye but it’ll be fun and blow off some steam.” 

In the end, nothing came of it as the ship rocked hard to port and alarms began to blare around them...

A cough brought him back to the present, watching the brown eyes change in the light, the initial confusion fading to doubt, then replaced with wariness. 

"Who are you?" The first words to be spoken aloud between them, in the same velvety rasp which had haunted Niall’s dreams.

They cut deep, hurt worse than any wound he’d endured. He straightened up, pushing the pain away and answered. 

“Who d'ya think it is? Jolly ol' St. Nick? Tis me, Kaidan. Niall.” He felt like he was stating the obvious, words coming out sharper than intended. 

Silence followed his outburst, the sound of wind wailing in the distance filling the stillness. As the quiet stretched on, Niall reflected on the situation, quickly realizing if roles were reversed, he'd be suspicious as well. Indignation sailed away like a balloon on the wind.

Ready to apologize, Kaidan spoke before Niall could ready his words, “I thought--” voice hoarse with agony, he choked on whatever he’d been about to say, unable to continue. Looking away from Niall, he composed himself, took a deep breath and despite his attempt to remain calm, blurted, “You...you were dead.” 

Biting his tongue against voicing the LT’s mighty powers of observation, Niall fought for something a wee bit more serious and relatable. Now wasnae the time for jokes. 

“Aye," the words ‘but now I’m not’ still echoing in the air between them. How could he begin to explain what he dinnae understand himself? As if he were stuck in quick sand, he felt the more he tried to climb out, the deeper he sank. 

“So, the rumors were true.” 

“Och, aye, guess they were.” 

“When?” 

The wealth of emotion in the single word struck Niall right in the heart, nearly making him stagger from the pain. He fought for an answer, disregarding one after another as they came to him. 

With a heavy sigh, he decided on the truth, “Several months ago.” The dark brows inside the black helmet furrowed downwards into a frown he was all too familiar with. Even to his own ears the response sounded lame. “I dinnae know until then. I was...uh...I doonae even know what to call it...brought back to life?” He threw his hands up in frustration. 

Disbelief followed his statement, turning quickly to suspicion. He could see the change in Kaidan's eyes through the visor. Tone flat, he echoed, “Brought back to life." At Niall’s nod of confirmation, his voice rose, "How is such a thing even possible? Who is...capable of such a thing?” 

Knowing how Kaidan felt about the organization, Niall didn't spare him the facts. He'd find out anyway. “Cerberus.” 

The climate of Alchera was cold and frigid, unfit for flora or fauna to sustain life. Even inside his armor, Naill could feel the chill in the air and had simply wanted to walk through the ruins and leave quickly. He’d never expected to find a dog tag or get lost in memories. 

And now, with his confession, the temperature seemed to drop even further; at least where the two of them stood. Kaidan stared at him for several long, agonizing seconds. He didn’t bother answering, turning around and walking away.

Niall jumped forward, his gloved hands capturing Kaidan’s stopping him, “Wait, please. Don’t go.” 

His gaze dropped down to where their hands were joined; Niall's did as well, heart skipping in his chest. “Please.” He wasn't above begging, not when it came to Kaidan. 

Pulling his hand from Niall’s, Kaidan turned away; yet, he didn’t leave. Several minutes went by; Niall held his breath. “How could you? It’s...they’re Cerberus! You know what they’ve done. The...the things we saw!” 

Fully aware of what his impassioned words implied, Niall felt his anger rise in response, “Did ya think I had a choice in this? As if I could pick and choose who would ha’ the honors of...of fixing...of rebuilding me? Fuck! I wouldnae have chosen this at all...if anyone had ever bothered to ask me first. But here I am and will damn well make the best of it, ya ken?”

Silence stretched on around them. “Are you…you?” Kaidan whispered.

How many times had he looked in the mirror wondering the exact same thing? “I doonae know, Kaidan…" He repeated in a whisper, "I doonae know."

With the admission, he could not look at Kaidan anymore, gazed around them instead. He saw a glint of something shiny; another set of dog tags perhaps. 

To fill the void, he explained, “Saw something sparkle in the sun shortly after I landed. Walked over and found a set of dog tags belonging to Pressly. As I wandered among the wreckage I found more from the crew...the ones who…” he couldn’t say it out loud, felt a hand settle on his shoulder. 

Startled, he turned to stare at it, unable to process the gesture with Kaidan’s protests from a few short minutes ago. Did he believe him now or was it all just for show? Yet, Kaidan had never been superficial. Something Niall admired about him, then and now. 

“We’ll do it together.” The words startled him even more than the touch, but he was grateful. 

“Aye. Tapadh leat.” **

Searching the pieces of the Normandy side by side. As the looked, Niall noticed the sky darkening overhead. Caught up in the past, neither of them had paid any attention. A storm was approaching; a large one. Seeing another glint of metal, Niall brushed off the snow and wrapped the chain around his gloved fingers. 

The storm had intensified and was coming at them fast and furious. There wasn’t time for them to get to their drop shuttles and leave.

He turned and tapped on Kaidan’s helmet. “We need to take cover. Now! Get inside one of the drop shuttles!” Niall took off at a dead run towards the one closest, Kaidan hot on his heels. 

Jumping inside, Niall slammed his fist against the touchpad, shutting the door just as the storm growled over them, ice chips beating a staccato against the steel hull. Wind buffeted the Kodiak, causing it to rock before sliding a few inches along the ground. Unable to radio out and with no one able to contact them, they were sitting ducks at the mercy of the storm.  

Niall reached up and took off his helmet, scrubbing his shorn, itchy scalp with gloved fingertips. 

“You...you’re...the scars?” Kaidan finally managed. 

Niall had forgotten. Not completely healed when the Lazarus project had been sabotaged, he was left with scars where his skin hadn’t had time to knit back together. Chakwas told him by remaining calm they would eventually heal and fade but with stress, they would remain...or get worse. 

Well...

He turned towards Kaidan, their eyes locking. Niall wasn’t the man he’d been the last time they’d seen each other. 

“Aye, scars. I wasnae fully healed when...well, when I was brought out of my coma.” He went to replace his helmet. 

Kaidan stopped him, hand on his arm. “No, don’t. I don’t care what you look like, Niall. I just...I was surprised.” 

He nodded. No moreso than he when he first looked in the mirror. The image staring back at him had been a great shock. That mirror had been replaced. Niall went and sat down on the bench in the back; Kaidan remained standing, neither one speaking as the storm raged on outside. It might last an hour or maybe days. 

“Look, Kaidan--”

“Niall, I--”

Both of them spoke at once. Niall gave a weak grin as Kaidan chuckled and he noticed the pink hue covering the tips of the ears. Some things hadn’t changed. He felt as if a weight had been lifted and he’d been granted a boon. 

Looking at Kaidan straight on, he began again, “I ken how it looks. I do. But, before you draw and quarter me, I dinnae now what to do, where to go. The Alliance won’t ha’ me now and I talked with Anderson and Hackett. They know what’s going on with the human abductions. The Council won’t listen.” He spat the name, no more enamored with them than in the past. “What would ya ha’ me do?” 

“Plead your case, push them. Be relentless like you were before. They have to see reason.” 

Shaking his head at Kaidan’s blind faith, he countered, “Do they? Have they ever? Have ya forgotten Sovereign? The Citadel doesnae even remember, the damage wwept away like so much garbage, forgotten and moved on.” 

The shoulders slumped. Niall studied him, drinking in the sight of a man he hadn’t realized how much he’d begun to care about. Until he was gone. Yet, here he was right in front of him. And they were arguing, Kaidan too blind to see what was so obvious. He stood up, stepping forward until they were nearly nose to nose. Kaidan looked up. 

Niall lost himself in the brown eyes, a golden amber when the light overhead caught them just right. How had he never noticed before? The laugh lines spreading out from the corners of his eyes, the freckles above his right eyebrow. So many details he’s missed. No, he’d never bothered to find. Now, he noticed them all...and more. 

Adrenaline surged in his blood, excitement unfurling within him. He remembered the scars over Kaidan’s lips, wanting to touch them, see how they felt beneath his fingertips...against his tongue. They were right there in front of him now. Overcome with a tidal wave of pent up emotions, he acted on impulse. 

Leaning forward, he captured Kaidan’s mouth with his, losing himself in the scent and taste of him, in the soft lips, his tongue tracing the scars...finally. 

Lost in a longing he had no name for, it took Niall several seconds to register there was no reciprocation. His heart twisted painfully inside his chest. So, this was it, then. He took a deep breath, ready to apologize. But, as he stepped away, he stumbled, Kaidan surging forward to initiate the kiss this time. 

The Kodiak faded away, as did the storm outside. Only the two of them existed in this perfect moment and Niall drank it up like a parched man in the desert until they both broke away, simply in order to breathe. 

** thank you, Scottish Gaelic, informal

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

fic year in review post, because i looooove reading other people’s and because new year’s is my favorite holiday (and literally always has been even before i knew or cared about what being a capricorn meant which is how you know astrology is real...)!

first of all, i posted a truly deranged 376,298 words of fanfiction this year, which is... bananas even given that i y’know quit my job in the middle of a global pandemic and have had a lot of time on my hands. i historically don’t do great with unstructured time & i am in fact extremely grateful to this weird hobby and the weirdos i do it with for giving me something to focus my energies during several months of empty schedules and a lot of um emotional processing happening in the background & as at times unhingedly absorbing as it has been, as new year’s & capricorn season work their magic i actually find myself starting to feel very recharged re: the prospect of making moves to reenter real life, in a way that it’s hard to imagine having found my way to without the mental washing machine of throwing myself into.... This.

wild geese (56k, quentin/eliot)

not included in the word count above because i finished writing it at the very end of december 2019, but i’m listing it here because it’s the only magicians story that would be left out otherwise, and it’s my dumb list. this was my shooting-from-the-hip post-4x13 fix-it, started within two weeks of having made it through the series as it existed then and driven entirely by the concept of quentin coldwater finding a way to let the soft animal of his body love what it loves; also in no small part a big love letter to quentin & julia; & to some degree a way for me to process the emotions watching the magicians brought up (mostly actually not bad) about my own history of depression. it surprised me with how long it was, and the fact that i expected it initially to be simply about feelings but it developed a thematically relevant plot-like magic concept, which was a fun novelty for me! it feels very tame compared to everything i’ve written sense, which would have shocked me to hear at the time i finished it, but i’m still very fond of it, particularly towards the end.

burning holes in butterflies’ wings (7k, julia/alice)

a little bizarre niche nightmare story! a tag joke about griefbanging turned into something miserable and weird. the first sex scene i wrote because i got halfway into the story and realized that writing a story from the premise “julia grief-fucks her dead best friend’s deranged ex” and not letting the actual sex show for itself what a psychological and emotional nightmare that would be was just a waste. a very jumping into the deep end way to learn about writing that part of the human experience, lmao.

wreck my days with a violent hunger (30k, quentin/eliot)

i loved this story a lot when i posted it and i love it a lot now; there are stretches where the prose sounds like the prose i had been wanting to write for years and never quite managed, and it also gets at some trauma-stuff i circle back to a lot as well as i’ve ever hit it. i think it’s still my most technically accomplished piece, and it taught me a lot about how to think about writing. also was my first foray into exploring the potential of quentin’s post-resurrection anger, which i spent many hours pondering and dissecting and clarifying for myself for this fic where it gets articulated in one (1) scene and then found myself at this story’s conclusion.......... obsessed with.

damage control for a walking corpse (78k, quentin/eliot, quentin/a lot of people, quentin/being a fucking terror)

my beloved and cherished demon baby.... my most precious unholy nightmare.... i simply have never had as much fun doing anything as i had writing this story! i had a blast leaning into what made me uncomfortable, & letting myself write in detail about sex without the pressure of writing Hot Sex Scenes, & letting myself be propelled by what made me laugh; SO much of this story, including some of the shit that wound up really dark in execution, started from the question of what would be most hilarious to me, personally. i’ve always loved stories about fucked up people in a lot of pain doing ugly fucked up things but i’d never been bold enough to venture there myself, and then this particular conception of post-resurrection q slammed down the gas pedal and would not stop, careening past moment after moment where i was like, is he really gonna do that, and the answer was: yes, and then some. and for all the meanness of this story, i love many quentins but i think i kind of love this one most of all.

how a resurrection really feels (260k and counting, quentin/eliot)

well! as i have said many times, the goal with this & damage control has been, quite simply, to give quentin coldwater what he deserves, which is to (1) completely lose his fucking shit and (2) figure out how to be okay after that; it is not my fault that quentin coldwater is the craziest motherfucker in the history of the universe, and has needed so very many things along the way! i had to learn new ways of thinking about stories just to begin getting this down; writing it has been sometimes thrilling, sometimes boring, sometimes a pleasant stroll, sometimes pulling fucking teeth, but i’m proud of pretty much all of it, from the Big Things it gets at that i’ve been working on in my own brain for years to the goofy worldbuilding details which are a totally new thing for me to be playing around with. this is gonna sound weird and deranged but i legitimately feel like writing this story has changed me as a person, in ways that i’m currently discovering and wondering about; one small way is that when i think about the two chapters that are left i’m like, “okay, another 40k, that’s eminently doable,” which truly is insane to me considering that before this fandom i had never written anything longer than 34k. this entire project really is, and i cannot emphasize this enough, something i had no idea i was remotely capable of pulling off ever in my life until it was happening, so if you are one of the people who has mentioned to me that you are impressed because it feels like something you couldn’t do - you really don’t know that! keep reading! keep writing! keep giving yourself space to grow <3

next year: finishing a resurrection; bigbang fic; beyond that, who knows! i have a WIP list that contains 5 stories i’ve made some level of drafting or notes towards & another six concepts i have hazy outlines of in my head, but i went back a while ago to the WIP/wishlist post i made once and most of those stories have totally lost their appeal for me so, i’m letting the muse take me where it will. hopefully it takes me to some things that are like, short. that would be neat. other than getting the bigbang story done on time, i don’t think i’m going to be setting longterm goals beyond keep writing; my weird hobby has sparked a lot of joy this year, and i want to hold on to that.

[oikawa-tuwu]

Exit, Stage Right

🎭 Chapter 16 (oikawa x reader)

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” your new understudy, Chiyo, comments when you collapse in the chair next to her. Finally, the last scene for the day was blocked, which meant that the cast would be dismissed, which meant you could go to the cafe, which meant you could finally meet Alien Boy.

Finally.

“Am I?” You say, still grinning despite your usual post-rehearsal exhaustion.

“Yeah, you haven’t glared at me once today,” Oikawa hums somewhere in your right ear, and you glance back to see that he claimed the seat behind you, and is currently leaning much too far forward for comfort, his face, a daunting mere few inches from yours. “Care to explain what has you so happy, Juliet?”

Even the slight acceleration of your heart isn’t enough to get your mood down, so you just shove his forehead back with your hand and put his stupid pretty face and stupid pretty hair and stupid pretty grin out your mind. Oikawa wails a little, but your attention has already moved on.

Alien boy.

“Good job, everyone. You’re dismissed for the day-”

Your hand is already reaching for your bag.

“Except for Y/n, Watari, and Yahaba, I want to run the scene one more time, because something in the blocking was off and I want to make sure we have it down before we move on.”

“Damn,” Yahaba mutters, apathetically, as you reach for your script again. “That sucks for you.”

“You could at least pretend like you don’t find my pain amusing,” you bite back, but you follow him back up to the rehearsal space. “Sadist.”

Yahaba shoots you a blinding smile. “Dumbass.”

“Be nice,” Watari chides, but he’s grinning too, so the scolding falls flat.

Most of the cast still wanders around the seats, talking about weekend plans or collecting their bags and scripts, but surprisingly, the third year boys have already left. It had seemed like a new tradition for Oikawa, lingering behind to bug you about going to practice lines or walking you home, but he’s nowhere to be found. Even Iwaizumi is already gone, leaving Kyoutani and his perpetually angry expression to read from the stage manager’s script.

“Alright, we’re going to go from Juliet’s line, line number…”

Fifteen grueling minutes later, the director dismisses you.

Thankfully, you’ll still get there on time if you hurry, but it doesn’t help that your friends are walking at a snail’s pace. Even Kyoutani is walking slowly, and that boy basically runs everywhere most of the time.

“Look, a flower,” Yahaba says for the eleventh time, slowing down to peer at it, and you’re about ready to sock him.

“Fuck you, I’m leaving you behind.”

“I was joking!” Yahaba laughs and you hear the other three second years pick up their pace to catch up with you. “Wait for us!”

Your last memory of Sakura Cafe was when Oikawa’s jealous ex-girlfriend poured coffee on you and stained your favorite uniform shirt, so coming here to meet Alien Boy is a strange homecoming. God knows this store has seen enough dramatics from your life for this week.

Still, you tidy your hair a little with the help of your phone’s camera and adjust your uniform skirt before you turn the corner to the coffeeshop.

For a moment, you imagine what might lie behind the walls of Sakura Cafe. You’ve seen plenty of plays at nearby schools and met quite a few of their actors afterwards, so the possibilities were endless as to who he might be. Was it someone from Karasuno? Their drama club president was handsome and incredibly nice, or maybe their vice president, with his silver hair and playful grin. Or maybe it was someone from Shiratorizawa?

You can’t help but smile a little at the thought. Oikawa would throw a hissy fit if he found out that you were friends with Ushijima Wakatoshi. (He thinks he’s aaaall that because he was in a touring production of Les Mes when he was a kid. Ugh.)

And, once again, Oikawa invades your thoughts.

That boy was like a dagger that slowly slipped between your armor and suddenly had you clutching your heart on the floor. You’d been stabbed once and the armor was a logical next step after the wound he inflicted in your first year. You had been content for the last year to hate him, to pretend like his bad pick-up lines and long eyelashes did more to infuriate than to arouse, but the lies only went so far after that night at the park. He had apologized. He had joked. He had smiled. His true smile, not the one he painted on in the morning, but one that could knock the wind out of you.

And now the bastard had you rethinking everything.

“I can’t do this,” you breathe. “I can’t, I’m in love with that dumbass and I can’t-”

Watari and Yahaba exchange an unreadable look, and then they proceed to loop their arms around yours and essentially lift you off the ground, dragging you, kicking and screaming, towards the door.

“Stop!” You screech. “Kyoutani, help!”

Kyoutani does not help.

Your friends deposit you in front of the cafe doors, Watari helpfully tucking a stray hair back into place.

“You can do this,” Yahaba says, slapping you on the back. “Go get your man.”

“Aw, that’s the most encouraging thing you’ve ever said to me!”

Yahaba grimaces. “I know, it pains me too. Now go.”

“We’ll be right behind you,” Watari grins, and turns you to the door.

“Okay,” you say, and, ignoring the nerves that settled in your belly and slowly spread to your lethargic limbs, you push open the door.

Your first thought after walking through the door is, that’s weird. The missing third years: Iwaizumi, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki, are sitting at a table, not-so-subtly staring at you. Hanamaki winks, and then the three turn back to their drinks.

Weird.

Your second thought after walking through the door is, I am the single dumbest person on this earth.

There’s only one other space being occupied in the coffee shop, a small two-person table in the corner. Behind your usual drink order, already paid for and still piping hot, and a bouquet of the reddest roses you’ve ever seen, sits Oikawa Tooru.

You open your mouth, but the only thing that comes out is, “What the fuck.”

“You wanted this,” Yahaba says, cheerfully, slinging an arm over your shoulders. “You’re welcome.”

“What the FUCK?” You repeat, turning towards your friends, then back to Oikawa, then to the third years, then back to Oikawa. “I… you’re alien fucker?!”

Oikawa winces as you hear the other occupants of the cafe die from laughter. “For the last time, I’m not an alien fucker, I just think that the actor who played the Squip in Be More Chill is kind of attractive!”

“O. T.,” you mutter, remembering the initials on your online friend’s profile. “Oikawa Tooru. Our shows opens the same weekend, I’m such a dumbass.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I only realized a couple days ago.”

“It doesn’t.” You turn to the rest of them. “And how long have you assholes known this?”

Hanamaki wipes a tear from his eye, pausing in his laughter long enough to get out, “A blissful week.”

Your face heats up as you realize how blatant some of your tweets had been, thinking that Alien Boy would never see them.

“Is it too late to run away?” You ask Watari.

He just grins and pushes you towards Oikawa. “Yes. Now go.”

You take a deep breath, count to three, and turn back to Alien Boy. To Oikawa.

“So,” he says with a confident grin, as soon you’ve taken a few steps in his direction. “Did I make it obvious?”

You scan the display. You noticed the drink and the roses earlier, but somehow you hadn’t seen the sign, a teal piece of cardstock propped against the wall, that read, Be the Scully to my Mulder?

“I think that is the cheesiest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life.”

Oikawa smirks, taking a single step forward. “I know for a fact that you like cheesy stuff, considering how many times you’ve cried at ‘I’ll Cover You’ from Rent.”

The blush on your cheeks is answer enough for him, but you still try a weak protest. “Shut up.”

Oikawa tilts his head, looking at you the same way he looked at his script before going on stage for a scene he didn’t quite have memorized yet, frantically trying to capture the lines in the last few seconds before his cue. In that moment, you realize how close you’d gotten during the exchange, with a mere few inches between his face and yours. He grins, infuriatingly. “You know, you’ve been telling me that a lot lately, why don’t you make me shut up?”

In a single, fluid motion, you grab his uniform tie and yank him to your height, meeting his lips in a kiss.

Behind you, you hear a few scattered cheers, probably from Hanamaki and Matsukawa, but you don’t care. No, your attention is focused more on feeling of Oikawa’s lips on yours, the weight his hands on your waist, the way he teeth caught your lip a little as you pulled away.

When you finally part, you’re breathless. Oikawa grins at you, that stupid happy smile that killed you the other night in the park, and has the audacity to ask, “So is that a yes?”

Previous ... Masterlist ... Next

(A/N: And its over!! Thanks for reading, I had a lot of fun writing this one!! The rivals to lovers trope will kill me one of these days. Also I may or may not have casted Shiratorizawa in Little Shop of Horrors. Please send an ask if interested in hearing my niche and probably controversial hot takes, I have a lot of them. Anyways, thank you all for reading/supporting Exit, Stage Right and have a great day!!!)

Taglist: @fangirling-25-8 @multifandomphenomena @moonlightreetops @ensworks @it-me-720 @harajukukitsune @sempiternal-amour @semiathleticnerdykid @luvelyxp @theduvetpirate @bethbat @starwrite-er @icy-hot @cowboy-doll @hurtbycanonthoughts​ @shigarakiskitten​ @kaaidalupita​ @nekoma-hoe​ @chaseyui @whapau @cuddlesslut @n3verending16 @cactuski6 <- If I missed anyone on the taglist, PLEASE let me know and I'll fix it!! My notes app I used to keep track of it got messed up, so I'm very very sorry if I forget to tag someone 😪

[fandomlurker]

A Ponderous Rewatch: Prologue

You know, I didn’t think this would happen. I didn’t go into bingeing the 2020 renewal of Animaniacs with the thought “I’m going to watch this and then go and watch the original Pinky and the Brain shorts and spin-off show and do a rewatch and loose analysis on the whole franchise with special attention on queer subtext and themes”. What I initially set out to do was simply watch the renewal and see if it lived up to the show I watched pretty regularly as a kid in the 90s…or at least what I remembered of it through the haze of decades worth of time.

Pinky and the Brain was my favorite set-up on Animaniacs back in the day. Back then I probably wouldn’t even have been able to tell you why beyond “I think it’s funny and the characters are fun to watch as they screw up trying to take over the world”. Other segments were funny to me back in the day, too. Slappy the squirrel was great in that she was basically just like the classic, near-timeless Looney Toons a la Bugs Bunny and Daffy Duck, but as an old lady toon who’s seen it all and tries to relate to the changing world while proving that the ol’ slapstick ways still work. The Goodfeathers were entertaining despite the fact that I was a literal child and didn’t even know that it was a big ol’ spoof of Goodfellas. Hell, I’ve still never seen Goodfellas, but three pigeons trying to carry themselves like macho tough guy mafia folks while being goddamn pigeons is still funny with or without that context. And as for the Warner siblings themselves? Their skits were pretty consistently great as well. Lots of that Bugs Bunny-like energy of putting terrible folks in their place when they annoy you while coupling it with the dynamic of three child siblings who are very, very active and much too clever for the average person. It was fun!

But as I watched the 2020 reboot with its stripped-down cast now largely consisting of just the Warner siblings and Pinky and the Brain segments for the season (And I’ll be honest, some of the segments from the 90s like Katie Kaboom, Buttons and Mindy, and the Hip-Hippos are ones I’ll be happy to never have return because they were godawful even back then), it brought into focus the strength of those segments compared to most of the others from the old 90s line-up: The strong dynamic and chemistry of the relationships between the main characters of those skits. The Warner siblings are a trio of kids who, despite being truly cut from the same wacky cloth as the most beloved of Looney Toon characters, also very much tap into a very realistic depiction of sibling relationships. Sure, they get on each other’s nerves sometimes. Sure, sometimes they have disagreements on how they view a certain situation. At the end of the day, however, they care about each other more than anything else and work in such perfect sync despite differences in who they are individually.  Sure, Yakko is a talkative theater kid jackass who sasses back at the drop of a dime. Sure, Wakko is kinda quiet and spaced-out and he has the appetite of a garbage disposal. Sure, Dot is adorable and witty and loudly and proudly feminist with an oddly feral streak. But if any one of them is inconvenienced or picked on or threatened in any way by someone, even if that someone is a powerful celebrity of some sort? You bet your ass the other two will immediately back their sibling up and make their tormentor’s life a living hell for the next however long the skit lasts. They’re little gremlin children who love one another, and have a surprisingly tragic backstory that actually speaks to a lot of fans on several levels.

But, okay, the bond between the Warner siblings is great and fun. What about Pinky and the Brain? What makes their dynamic stand out?

Folks, that’s where things get a little more…interesting. To me, at least.

So, watching the beginning of the 2020 reboot got me to slowly remember the parts I loved about the Pinky and the Brain skits from Animaniacs…were actually from their spin-off show. And the things I remembered most clearly from the spin-off were the more heartwarming moments that showed how much they cared about and loved one another, despite Brain being exhausted by Pinky’s dimwitted antics at times. And for a supposedly continuity-light cartoon show, there was a surprising amount of consistency to the main duo and their motivations. There was even a handful of reoccurring side characters the audience was expected to recognize from past episodes, as well, which is a bit strange to have for a show that initially seemed to aim to be strictly episodic. I remembered the odd amount of depth there was to the series. Nothing groundbreaking, mind you, but definitely something more than the average comedy cartoon.

So after watching the first few episodes of the reboot, I took to Tumblr to see if anyone remembered the old 90s show and to see how they were reacting to the new one. In doing so, I came across this post:

“i love that ppl make jokes abt a pinky and the brain version of the destiel confession because that. already happened....... the only difference is that brain pulls pinky out of superhell instead of dying on a barn nail”

Now, look, I’ve never watched Supernatural and only know it through Tumblr cultural osmosis, and at the time we were all riding off the high of the madness that was the finale of that show and the fallout from it. But ANYWAY…

This piqued my interest because 1. I didn’t remember watching an episode of Pinky and the Brain where anything like that happened, and 2. I was already picking up strong gay vibes from the reboot only a few episodes in. So, basically, I just had to hunt down this episode to sate my curiosity and see for myself if there was subtext in this 90s cartoon that I hadn’t quite picked up on as a kid.

I found the episode and started watching it. “Wow,” I said to myself, “this is a lot gayer than I remember…” And after finishing the episode, memories came flooding back to me:

That time the Brain fell for a girl mouse that was looked and acted lot like Pinky.

All those moments where Pinky would wear drag to disguise himself as Brain’s significant other in one way or another to further their plans for that episode, and how I could never remember it being ridiculed.

That one time they accidentally had a child together via a science mishap.

The ending of the Christmas special!...

And as I sat there, dumbstruck and searching Tumblr’s tags to see how far this particular rabbit hole (mouse hole?) went, everything finally clicked in my little bisexual mind.

This was one of the big reasons as to why I loved the Pinky and the Brain skits so much above all the others on Animaniacs all those years ago when I was a kid. It was the same sort of thing that subconsciously drew me to many of the cartoons and anime and media in general I loved as a child, back before I had the proper knowledge and self-awareness to know or express it.

Looking back on my life, I’d always gravitated to and resonated the most with stories and media with queer content in text or subtext. And sure, this cartoon was/is no Sailor Moon or Revolutionary Girl Utena with explorations of gender roles and queerness. It’s no Steven Universe or She-Ra with out and proud queer characters. It’s no The Little Mermaid or The Happy Prince where the stories were made by queer authors and subtextually about queer experience.

However…

However…!

I was surprised to find how deep the gay subtext went with Pinky and the Brain. Hell, I still am. This little Warner Brothers, Looney Toons-pedigree, continuity-light show about two lab mice trying to take over the world in bizarre, hilarious ways has such a weirdly continuous, heartfelt, touching, engaging, and sometimes outrageously raunchy queer undercurrent to it. All done in the 90s! It’s kind of baffling.

This is not to say that the creators and writers of the shows deliberately set out to do this. I don’t believe that anyone involved sat down and said to themselves “I’m going to make this so fucking gay!”. Sure, the voice actors of both Pinky and the Brain have said that they played the dynamic with “the energy of an old gay couple” and they’ve said plenty of suggestive or outright not safe for work things in the character’s voices in interviews and at convention panels. I firmly believe that they’re just having fun as the characters, just as much as I believe the writers were probably just having fun and putting in the gay subtext and suggestive lines as a kind of long running joke and seeing how far they could take it.

(By the time of the Pinky and the Brain comics, however, I’m not so sure. Some of the stuff they got away with in those issues is…amazing, to say the least.)

Regardless of actual intent, I think the writers of Pinky and the Brain (both old and new), have accidentally created a sort of subtextual, yet pretty powerful love story. And you know what? I want to rewatch this story for myself and write down my thoughts as I go along. I tried something similar quite a while back with Droids, and while I kind of ran out of steam as my life got busier and never finished, I have time now for something like this.

I should also say that I’m not out here to, like, convert anyone into shipping cartoon mice together. I imagine most people see Pinky and the Brain as nothing other than very close friends, and that’s a completely valid viewpoint to have. I doubt there will ever be some sort of canonization of a gay relationship between the two, as I imagine most of the writers on the new show (and hell, on the old one) are heterosexual themselves and would view such an idea as “ruining the comedy and the dynamic of the characters” or something similar. I’ve been in the fandom game long enough to know better than to hope and expect any media to sincerely tackle queer relationships in stories that only have the subtext there, especially in comedies.

I guess I’m doing this more to explore something I loved as a child and to see if I can find just as much if not more enjoyment from it as an adult, albeit maybe for different reasons. Hell, it’s also an opportunity to peek into a kind of time capsule from the 90s regarding how far queer subtext could be pushed back then, even when heavily couched in comedy. This is just a little project I wanna do for fun in my spare time. And hey, maybe a few of you out there will have some fun reading it too, who knows?

Either way, see you sometime soon in the new year.

[whumpywhumper]

New York--Part 2

Tagging: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @rosesareviolentlyread @oceanthesarcasamfox @insanitywishes @imagination1reality0 @voidwhump @captivity-whump @walkingchemicalfire 

As always, @0idril0 was indispensable to this series and the fact she’s allowed me to use Clint makes me so grateful, go check out her Nico Series

Please see the: Masterpost and New York--Part 1

TW: Mentions of possible character death. This is some angsty, schmoopy, worldbuilding. 

V***V

Clint growled, head spiraling after looking at the evidentiary photographs for hours. An itch had started under his skin about an hour ago, making him antsy and grumpy. 

He flicked the photograph of one of the “cattle cells”, one of the female Elder’s, onto the table with a disgusted snarl. “What the fuck have you pulled me into, Holland?” 

The older man groaned, throwing a photo onto the table himself before pinching the bridge of his nose. “I was hoping that you could tell me that, Clint. We know it’s a nest, but only Christ knows what else they’re doing. How big they actually are. They’re organized, they’re doing something else.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair.  “Caught wind of them about six months ago, about the time I heard you were in Chicago, but we didn’t get a solid lead until recently.” Their eyes met across the table, and Clint saw the fountain of wisdom in them that had made him trust him for years. “I’ve got a gut feeling, it’s why I wanted you here.” 

He tugged at a fist full of hair, trying to stretch out his back. The conference room was quiet other than the footsteps of the nurses back and forth to their station. Kincaid had fallen asleep on the table, one hand still holding a pen as he’d taken copious notes in everything in the photos. 

Ben was laying on the ground, feet propped up in his chair, a sheaf of papers on his chest. His glasses were askew and an occasional grunting snore filling the air. Delta, Justin, and Daniel had all left a few hours previous; Delta parting with one last glare that had made the remaining cops snicker. 

He shook his head, looking at all of the photos they’d gone through. “I need more info,” he sighed, “hands on info. This isn’t working for me. I want to talk to some of the people inside. Anyone stand out as being someone who would talk?“ 

“Not right off the bat, no. Definitely not the vamps themselves. The humans on the inside, the ‘neolates’ as they call them, are pretty dedicated, and quite a few scattered to the wind when we raided. Most of the vics were out of the loop, either drugged or magicked to hell.”  

“Most?” 

“There were a few that were kept pretty strong so that the fledglings and juveniles could practice their-“ he wiggled his fingers, “-mind stuff.” 

Clint smirked, “they call it glamour.” 

“Whatever-” Holland waved away the correction, “-there were others that were kept for the vamps to have fun with. Point is, there’s a few that could tell us what was going on, and there’s a few that we’re still waiting on to get back in their right mind or waking up. If they’re going to wake up.” He sighed, exhausted. “I’m not sure any of them will be of any help, really.” 

“How many do you have here?” 

“All of the vics were originally stationed here, but the majority have been cleared to go home, or to some of the shelters and long term care facilities for rehab. We just don’t have the resources to keep them.” He started counting on his fingers, looking pensive. “I have the statements that we got from them before we released them—there was a veritable shitstorm of uniforms and detectives up here interviewing—and I have contact information for all of them if you want to interview ‘em.” He shook his head, pursing his lips. “I don’t think that that would be the best use of your time, there’s too many of them, and they don’t know much.” 

Holland stretched, pulling a file toward himself and looking at a list.  “I think there’s about thirty that are here in their longer stay wards, a few of those are being weaned off of some heavy narcotics so their testimony isn’t as reliable as I want right now, and we have one under ICU care, but he’s being kept on the same floor for ease of access and security—it’s actually this floor. He’s why Blue Nightmare out there is being such a bitch, she wants him up on the other floor.” Rolling his eyes, he smirked, a fond edge to his lips. “I’ve tried to tell her that it’s for his protection, we have units stashed all over, but she’s still worried. It also irritates her to no end that we’ve messed up her nurses rotations and shifts, but Olivia is a good egg. One of the best.”  He tossed the file to Clint, but it was a gibberish list of names, initials, and medical stats. “There’s a couple of bodies down in the morgue here, and a few at the coroner’s office, if you want to take a look at them. There was an incinerator on site, we think that’s where the majority of their bodies went.” 

Sighing, Clint closed the file and rubbed at his eyes. “Were there any nest members that were injured in the raid?” 

“A few, I’ve already interviewed them, they’re not going to give much I don’t think. They were their front line. You might have more luck—especially if I’m not there.” Clint smiled to himself, Holland wasn’t ever one to stand on police procedure when it came to sups, but he was never unfair about it. “Uhh, there’s one that might be more helpful, I didn’t even think about him since he’s practically on death’s door anyway.” He pulled another file out of a stack, almost toppling it onto Kincaid. “His name is Joseph, he was apparently getting some kind of cure for working for the vamps, but now the docs say he’s got two weeks, at best. Pancreatic cancer.” 

Clint hummed as he took the proffered file, flipping it open to look at the picture. A young African-American man looked up at him from a mug shot, dark eyes pained and hollow. He couldn’t have been more than twenty three, already dying, faced with an impossible decision. Fuck. How many other nest mates were in the same position?

“You’ve got a lot of pictures here of the nesting areas and containment cells. Where was the nest located?” 

“It’s a renovated factory at the edge of the city, they’d expanded it and turned it into a compound. Rumor had it that there was a small clinic that was run out of it for supernaturals of all types. We’re not sure how their greater operation was evading scrutiny, but this nest runs deep. I think it’s one of their main strongholds though, and Justin can take you tomorrow.” 

Sighing, Clint looked back over the mounds of photographs. “Holland. . . This is a big operation, it’s gonna to take a lot of time.” He shook his head, biting at his lip. “I wanna help, and I can give you a few days, but I have something I’m already in the middle of investigating. It’s important.” 

“I heard through the grape vine, a friend of yours went missing in Massachusetts a few months back?” Holland interlaced his fingers, deliberately putting his elbows on the table and looking at him with a compassion that Clint wanted to reject. He knew what he thought, and he wasn’t ready to accept it. “You still haven’t found him?” 

He grunted a negative, avoiding the other man’s eyes. “Leads went cold, was actually hoping some of my connections here might have heard something.” 

“How long has he been gone?” 

“Five months.” 

“Clint,” Holland paused, a gusty sigh through his nose before his hand rasped against his gray stubble, “Massachusetts is four hours from here, and they’re both densely populated. There’s little likelihood that anyone would have heard something, or remember something from five months ago, no matter how small the supernatural community is.” They both paused, a sinking, palpable tension filling the room. “Clint, son, look at me,” he said softly. 

His eyes burned, and he knew when he met Holland’s steadfast gaze that they were red with unshed tears. “I don’t wanna hear it, Holland,” he whispered, a hot coal in his throat. 

The other man nodded at him, a small frown on his face as he climbed to his feet stiffly, closing the distance between them. Clint didn’t move from his seated position, looking up at his friend as he put a strong hand on his shoulder. Gripping him tightly. 

Holland held his gaze, words unstoppable. “I know you don’t wanna hear it, son, but it’s not gonna change anything to sugar coat it. To avoid the reality. You’ve been doing this for long enough, you know the statistics.” He squeezed Clint’s shoulder, bracing him. “You know what I’m going to say, and I don’t have to spell it out for you. I’m not going to bullshit you like I would some civvy; you wouldn’t appreciate it, and I’ve never been very good at it.” 

He sighed heavily, giving Clint time to scramble madly for control of himself. “You need to accept that your friend is probably gone, Clint,” he said softly, “and probably has been for a while.” 

Clint shuddered, biting his tongue as his wolf howled inside of him, wanting to join in with that disconsolate sound. A few rogue tears spilled onto his cheeks. “Fuck,” he hissed between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as he bowed his head. He knew that. He knew it, he just didn’t want to accept it. 

Holland’s thick hand rubbed at his back, short rough strokes, before he continued. “The supernatural community is dangerous, Clint, and you all live on the fringe of death every day—you know that even better than I do. It’s why I need your help.” 

He gestured to Ben and Kincaid, encompassing the make shift command station, the ambiguous motion somehow including their futility. “As much as this is our livelihood, we’re still just laymen when it comes to the supernatural community, to the intricacies of how magic works and how you operate.” He sighed, showing every inch of his sympathy in the gaze he locked onto Clint. 

“Please, son, help me stop this from happening to other people, while we still can.” 

Swallowing thickly, Clint coughed on a sob, rubbing at the back of his neck. “I hate when you’re right,” he choked out, sniffling. 

“I hate when I’m right too,” Holland answered sadly, leaving is hand on Clint’s shoulder in support. 

It took several long minutes for Clint to get ahold of himself, and he felt exhausted as he raised his head. The heels of his hands dug into this eyes, trying to clear away the tears. Holland backed off, returning to his chair at the head of the table. 

He sighed, looking around at the other officers, trying to push his hair back. “I’m exhausted, you’re exhausted, and these two are definitely exhausted. When was the last time they slept in a bed?” 

Holland huffed, exasperated. “I couldn’t get them to leave after the raid for longer than it took to shower and grab more clothes. That was about 72 hours ago, I don’t know that they’ve left this room unless they told each other to shower and eat. Kincaid is taking this personally, and Ben is always along for the ride.” 

Clint raised an eyebrow, staring at him sideways. “They together?” 

“Going on eight years, partners before that, and don’t you look at me like that either,” he said, pointing a finger at him. “They’re the best damn tactical team I’ve come across, I’d be downright stupid to try and split them up. 

Raising his hands in surrender, Clint let the subject go. Supernatural squads didn’t always follow the book, but they couldn’t if they wanted results. “Do the nurses have a rack room they’d consider letting us use?” 

“Yeah, the Chief of the hospital already pulled some of the bunks they have for their on call people into an empty room. It’s cramped, but it’ll do. Help me get ‘em up.” 

Grinning, Clint kicked the chair out from under Ben’s feet and laughed at his snorted yelp as the other man shot up, sheets of paper falling to the floor. 

Holland chuckled, shaking Kincaid awake, “c’mon, Sleeping Beauty, we’ll pick this up after you get a few hours of shut eye.” Kincaid tried to argue, a mumbled complaint that was incomprehensible as he raised his head, bleary eyes blinking owlishly. “Ah-ah! I’ll listen to your objections when you can enunciate.” 

Helping Ben to his feet, his glasses still askew, they followed Holland. The large hospital afforded them a lot of distance between the conference room and the patient rooms, but Holland led them back to toward the nurses station, the empty room apparently near the patients.  

The nurse from before, Olivia, was glaring at a computer like it had personally offended her mother. She looked up at them as they passed, and Clint could smell the worry and stress on her, tell-tale lines marring her makeup. He nodded at her, and saw her face soften a fraction as she looked over Ben and Kincaid. “Get some actual sleep, all of you,” she ordered, “I don’t want to be your nurse; you don’t want me to be your nurse.” The threat was clear, and they all saluted her as they made their way into their designated room. 

One of the doors to a patient’s room opened, and Clint sneezed, making sure to cover his mouth and nose as the scent of sickness, stress, and hurt invaded his nostrils. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, “I hate hospitals.” 

Kincaid shrugged out of the police issued hoodie he was wearing, tossing it at his head. “Here, Copper, take a whiff of that.” 

Clint rolled his eyes at the movie reference. “I’m getting real tired of the bloodhound jokes,” he grumbled, throwing the hoodie over his shoulder. His eyes widened though as the scent of rosemary and magic hit his overstimulated nostrils. Shoving the hoodie against his nose, he took a deep breath and snapped his head over to raise his eyebrows at Kincaid. “Well, that woulda been nice to know!” Clint growled, a little of his shock bleeding over into the words. It wasn’t often a witch took him by surprise. 

Said witch laughed as he turned into a door way after Holland and Ben, who were also chuckling, climbing onto the closest top bunk. “I’m surprised you didn’t get a bead on me earlier, I heard werewolves have super sniffers.” He shrugged sheepishly, “I’m really not strong enough to do anything with the magic, never delved into it, but maybe it’ll help with the hospital smell.” He smiled at his partner from his height as the slightly older man took his glasses off and set them carefully on a counter. “C’mon, slow poke.”

“You’re an over grown child,” Ben grumped, pointing at him in mock outrage. 

“The problem with hospitals,” Clint explained, “is that I can’t smell a whole lot over everything that’s going on. Too many hormones, bodily fluids, and cleaning supplies.” Clint climbed onto the empty bottom bunk, opposite to Holland as the Captain let them bicker, the older man sitting on the already rumpled bunk below Kincaid and kicking off his shoes.

Ben shut off the light before he crawled up next to Kincaid. “Shut up, you two,” he grumbled, thwumping down, pulling the blanket over Kincaid’s face. 

Holland kicked the bottom of their bunk as the furniture gave a slightly ominous creak. “I swear to god, if you two fall on me, you’re both fired.” 

“Sir, yes sir!” They both replied. 

Shaking his head, Clint made himself comfortable under the thin hospital issue sheets, putting Kincaid’s hoodie over the pillow. He felt slightly silly, using the other man’s clothes basically as a gas mask, but anything was better than the thick aroma of bleach on the pillow case. 

Even with the lights off, the busy streetlight peeked through the blinds, illuminating the two men on the top bunk. He sighed, wanting Nico, to hold him close and make sure his Mate was safe. Even if the bond wasn’t formed yet, he wanted him. He wanted to make sure all of his pack was safe, the raw wound that Holland had dealt making an itch to check on Illyn, the other folks down in Louisiana. Gotta ask to borrow a phone tomorrow. 

Sniffing, he held the pillow close, analyzing the undertow of scents. Rosemary. Lime. Garlic. Gunpowder. The tickling scent of magic mixed with them, a memory of a memory wafting across his brain. He could swear that he smelled Markus, not Kincaid, but he sighed, pushing the thought away. 

His talk with Holland was too close, that’s all. Still, he held on to the scent as he fell asleep, a vague comfort against the ache. 

[finding-fallen-stars]

YGO Questionnaire Part 2 Electric Boogaloo

So, my gf/bf @howaboutalittlehelpneos tagged me to do this again a... good long while ago, and I had wanted to wait until I'd finished my GX rewatch before trying this again. But ouch oof I accidentally also got through all of 5Ds again before getting to this lol

But the 5Ds rewatch definitely reshaped a lot of my thoughts, so... cracks knuckles. This won't be spoiler free, fair warning~

Favorite Series: ugh the formatting killed my original essay on this but okay GX and 5Ds are pretty tied in my book, now-- I love them equally, but in different ways! GX fulfills my love for subversive coming-of-age stories with a heartwarming, humorous, and also soulcrushing touch, and I love how each season brings a new story and new characters-- it's like reading installments of a novel series, and I think the formatting works wonders for it as a whole. It has some absolutely phenomenal character writing, too-- even the characters I dislike are ones I can appreciate for what they introduce to the story! And honestly, not enough people give the first two seasons of GX the credit it deserves: they're half the charm, really. How are you going to feel the full impact of the heartbreaking content in seasons 3 and 4 if you aren't properly attached to the characters?

But on 5Ds's side of things... it fulfills my love for stories with time loops, found family, human nature, and of course, love and death and how they intertwine. I love how the leading characters are just a bunch of broken kids from broken circumstances who all find a home with each other, and of course, how it highlights class disparity and how fucked up the prison/"justice" systems are. Yea, sure, maybe it underwent executive meddling and all, but I genuinely love it for what it is and I wish more people appreciated it... my only problem with 5Ds is the untwist with Z-ONE and then the ending s m h I adore it overall and I could go off for a long while on it. Overall, these are my two instinctive recommendations for anyone getting into Yugioh!

(look at these boys they're so important) Favorite Protagonist: Oh, believe me, absolutely nothing has changed here-- Yusei Fudo is and always will be my favorite protagonist, and my rewatch only solidified that.

I just... love him so much? He's seen so much hell in his life and carries so much guilt on his shoulders, but he still has room in his heart to believe in others and to believe that anyone can defy fate and find hope even at rock bottom. I love that he's initially introduced as this quiet, brooding figure when he really just turns out to be a huge softie who wears his heart on his sleeve half the time and wants to bring about change for Satellite and its people. Plus I just really love that his greatest flaw is something that would ordinarily be a positive trait-- he's Overly self-sacrificial, to the point where he's basically setting himself on fire to keep others warm, and that's not really framed as something Heroic

Just... he makes me so happy. I have two Yusei charms that I ordinarily keep on my keys (one was a gift from Zenzen) and they're a constant source of serotonin for me. He's Peak comfort character for me. Best protag in my book Favorite Rival: Same deal here-- still Manjoume!

look at him he's so important

While he spends a lot of the anime getting the good old damsel in distress treatment (getting suckered into a cult, getting knocked into a coma, becoming a zombie, getting fucking Killed, etc), I still think his character arc is really well-written overall and I only appreciated it even more when I watched GX again. I love the fact that he's got a soft heart he buries beneath the edgy facade, and that he's simultaneously really sharp and also kind of dense lol. He's just a fun character and watching how he evolves from episode one to episode one hundred eighty is such a satisfying journey.

Plus, props to him for being such a versatile duelist-- 50 wins in a row is HARD as is, let alone with a deck full of cards he just found laying around in the Arctic. Three ace monsters, three different archetypes... he's a really good duelist and I'm proud of him for it

Oh, but honestly, I don't really dislike any of the rivals-- I'm neutral towards Revolver and Reiji, but the remaining four (Kaiba, Manjoume, Jack, and Shark) compel me. yes I accidentally wound up liking Jack Atlas shhh Favorite BFF: Honestly, I really like most of the characters who fit this archetype-- Joey, Crow, Gongenzaka, Soulburner... I still lean a little bit more towards Joey, but I really appreciate all four of them. I'm gonna say Joey again, just because I find his evolution as a character the most compelling, but I appreciate the other three a lot. Soulburner has the best design though Favorite GFF: Oh absolutely still Aki, but I honestly... really love most female Yugioh characters? I'm assuming this is lead girls only, but like. I'm dumb and gay and I love Girls so this is naturally the most difficult one for me to answer lol

Aki just resonates with me the most because she's the prime example of how trauma doesn't always manifest in palatable ways-- when we first meet her, she's angry and lashes out at anyone and anything just because she wants the world to suffer in the same ways she's suffered, and then... we get to watch her grow from that, once she's free from Divine and able to heal the way she needs to heal. I know the second half of 5Ds didn't give her character the attention it deserved, but I'm still proud of her for winding up on the path she did-- seeing her channel her power and energy into wanting to heal and help others was just so good and was one of the few things I really Loved about the 5Ds ending.

oh, but like. Asuka Tenjoin and Aoi Zaizen are very close seconds for me!!! Aki just has a vice grip on my heart Favorite Villain: Okay, it's still technically Vector-- I think he's the most entertaining, well-written, and effective villain out of all of the ones we've seen so far, but... I also want to add Takuma Saiou and then all of Yliaster as honorable mentions?

As someone fond of tarot myself, I was naturally pretty intrigued by Saiou the first time I watched GX, but my attachment to him only grew the second time around where I actually got the chance to understand his character better. Plus, like... the visuals with him are fucking astounding and he's always so interesting to watch.

As for Yliaster, I just... really love how the big bad of 5Ds turned out to just essentially be a broken man desperate to save anyone and anything and three robotic reconstructions of the friends he'd lost. I still think the untwist with Z-ONE was stupid and I much prefer the idea of him and Yusei being the same person, but I'm still compelled by the other three-- well. Paradox less so, because we don't get a lot of Paradox lore, but. Aporia and Antinomy for sure.

ugh Yugioh has some damn good villains

Favorite Card: now that I actually play the TCG game...

Stardust is always going to be my favorite of all cards because it checks every box for me (my favorite YGO character's ace monster, space theme, what more could I want), but Aromaseraphy Rosemary has really become one of my aces in my best TCG deck! I'm still mastering irl plays, but I'm happy with my progress and I love my plant gang...

Favorite Episode: alright, here's where there's actually been a Lot of change, so...

Season 0: Episode 16: "Turnabout by a Hair's Breadth - The White-Robed Crisis" -- The more I think about this one, the more I love it; there's a... lot of corruption in the medical industry, and I've seen a lot of it firsthand, so just. Seeing a corrupt doctor get what he deserved at the end was cathartic, in a way? Plus, a Jounouchi-centric episode is always a good time.

Duel Monsters: Episodes 96-97: "Darkness vs. Darkness/One Turn Kill" -- this hasn't changed, I still love seeing Marik and Bakura bitch at each other for two whole episodes LMAO

GX: Episode 152: "Activate Super-Fusion! Rainbow Neos" -- This one hasn't changed and it likely never will-- I take so much pride in seeing Judai push forward, past the fear and guilt he's carrying, all to save Johan... it's cathartic and I never get sick of watching it.

5Ds: sweats. still all of Crash Town, but also episodes 137-147-- the Ark Cradle is one of my favorite parts of 5Ds and one of my favorite YGO arcs period, and even though each duel is a fucking gut punch, I love the emotional intensity and weight in each episode... It hurts but in a mostly good way

Zexal: Episode 143: "The Aloof Duelist 'Nasch': The Destined Final Duel" -- this one hasn't changed! Still hurts, still love it, I still weep over Ryouga Shark Kamishiro on a daily basis

Arc-V: Episodes 81-82: "Our Respective Battlefields/The Ultimate Falcon VS The Black-Feathered Thunder" -- Okay, honestly, this was hard because I... genuinely. really don't like Arc-V very much at all lol (it's just not my cup of tea, but more power to those who do like it!), but I thought this duel was a lot of fun! Shun is my absolute favorite from Arc-V and I really like the friendship he struck up with Crow a lot, so here we are

VRAINS (so far): Episode 25-26: "Virus Deck Operation/Three Draws Leading to Hope" -- honestly I am so biased because I just really love Blue Angel and I loved seeing her get a well-deserved victory like this lol. I'm not done with VRAINS, so this is probably gonna change, but anytime Blue Angel or Soulburner are on screen, I'm happy

Favorite Decks to Use: Aromages will always have my heart, but I adore Cyber Angels too! I'm building my Trickstar deck, my Synchron/Stardust deck (just waiting on Dawn of Majesty...), and my Magician Girls deck, too! Fusion, Ritual, Synchro, XYZ, Pendulum, or Link?: Synchros my beloved... but also Ritual Years in fandom: I've been here for just a little over one year now! and I wuv it... I'm never looking back Who am I tagging: no one I'm too shy

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 512

Looking for a way to spend Mother’s Day? Well, we here at Outlander have the perfect idea! Celebrate with the women you love by watching us gang rape grannie!

This episode is like the perfect storm of everything that is wrong with Outlander. The cast and crew saying it’s their strongest episode yet when it’s basically artsy gang rape. The CYA trigger warnings when the story would have worked perfectly well without including yet another rape. The kool aid-drinking fans yelling at and acting holier than thou at the fans who rightfully call out the massive problem this show has with rape and assault. The fans yelling at other fans because It’S iN tHe BoOk so it has to be included. The fans yelling at other fans for wanting to follow the books but not wanting rape every 0.5 seconds. The fans yelling at other fans to fuck off if they don’t like the show. The women in the cast throwing out trigger warnings while the men are radio silent or wanting the gladiators to face the plague and fight for their own amusement. It literally has everything.

And I am tired.

I’ve been in this fandom for six years and have had quite a journey. From first discovering the show and immediately devouring the books. The honeymoon period where I could headcanon out all the problematic bits. The getting deep into the fandom nonsense. The getting out of the fandom nonsense. The judging the fandom nonsense because it’s funny and they’re all idiots. The getting sick of the fandom nonsense because it’s not even fun to judge the dummies anymore. The becoming more and more aware that it’s impossible to whistle past the problems in the books and the show. The sticking around, holding out hope things might turn around and the initial magic could be recaptured. And finally, the giving up.

The books are trash. The show is trash. There are a handful of good scenes in each which can be enjoyed on their own, but as a whole, holy shit this stuff is not good. (Seriously, I tried to do a Fiery Cross reread before the season started. I started like a year ago and am still only at Jocasta’s wedding because I just don’t care enough to actually get through it.)

Which brings us here. I am tired. I have already ranted and raged and yelled and swore and wrote far too many words about the gratuitous overuse of rape in the Outlanderverse. It fucking has its own tag for fuck’s sake.

So here’s a recap. And then I think I’m done looking at this show in detail. Not because the idiot fans insist on coming to my notes to tell me to fuck off if I don’t like the show. Not because the crew are condescending douchecanoes. Not because the author is a misogynist garbage heap. But because spending an hour of my time for a few weeks out of the year to write these things isn’t worth it. I did it for as long as I did because it took so little time. So why not? But yeah, it’s not even worth that tiny commitment anymore.

And to the people who I know will @ me about how no one was forcing me to stick around and I could have quit any time, yeah, no shit captain obvious, I know that. Fuck off already. I stuck around because I really liked the little corner of the fandom that I’d found. I made some awesome friends. Most of those friends have since quit the fandom. I’m really glad to have them in my life outside of this little corner of the internet. And it was a fun writing exercise. I don’t really like the show anymore, but I enjoyed building an argument about why I don’t like it and think it’s bad that has valid points behind it. Especially considering how blindly overly adoring a bunch of the fandom is about it. But now I think I’d rather consume Outlander content as pretty people in pretty period costumes in gifsets. Or like, on in the background but not really paying close attention. Why not quit altogether? Because to quote the great Ron Swanson (I’m halfway through a Parks rewatch and I just love that show a lot ok.), I can do what I want. And besides, there’s like a fucking library’s worth of fics that I haven’t read and have been meaning to. And I like the characters enough to want to keep reading about them in stories that are better than the canon. (Bless you fic writers, blesssss.)

So. Was this whole ramble self-indulgent and overly serious for a fucking TV show? Absofuckinglutely. But please see the aforementioned Swansonism.

Alright, fuckos. Let’s do this.

This is a Roberts brainchild, isn’t it. *checks credits* Yup. Knew it. This feels very much like a Roberts special. In that he is probs quite pleased with himself but like, it’s crap.

Yes, we ARE doing ANOTHER rape story! But look! It’s a disassociation montage! It’s the ‘60s, get it?! There are callbacks! An orange from the king in season 2! A vase from season 1! A rabbit from season 3! An amber-looking dragonfly! Jamie with the young hair spouting off book lines! ApPrEcIaTe MuH aRt! We are so good at finding new and creative ways to rape our characters! Fuck off, twatwaffle. You are the worst.

Like, does Roger feel left out at this point? He’s only been hanged. Literally everyone else has either been raped, been sexually assaulted, or been threatened with rape and/or sexual assault.

“But it’s not gratuitous! Look! They’re all so different! Jamie’s was overly graphic and he got a half a season to brood about! We manged to not show much of Fergus’ (but still showed a thrust) because he’s a child and it was just a plot device for Jamie and not actually about him! Mary’s was about Fred! Claire’s with the king was about Jamie! Jamie’s with Geneva was shot like p0rn! Marsali being threatened by the sailors was to motivate Fergus! Bree’s was about the other people in the room and Roger! Claire’s really has no purpose because she’s already been kidnapped and beaten, and that is super traumatic, and we’re gonna wrap it up with a bow by the end of the episode!”

This fucking show, guys. This fucking show.

Bonus points* for the Black character spouting off the superstitious stuff.

*By bonus points I mean this show, and the books are absolute shit on matters of race. The books especially.

The cast and crew have 100% heard everyone’s thoughts on the overuse of rape in the Outlanderverse. And their response has been to include more and more of it. We had a whole season of one character’s arc being about her rape and literally as soon as that was resolved, they gang rape another character. It really does tell you as much as you need to know about them. Lazy. Fucking. Cowards.

Kidnapping not enough trauma? Let’s add some gang rape! Gang rape not enough trauma? Let’s add visualizing that your daughter and grandchild are dead! Just like Fred died! This show really brings trauma p0rn to a whole new level.

Called the Bree and Roger shit.

This scene with the men rallying to go save Claire is like another layer of fuck you. Bree, you stay home, men, give your hero lines and let’s have a getting ready montage. Because your hero moment is what this is really all about. And your manpain about killing someone. *screams into a pillow*

The petty side of me is happy that it was Fergus and Young Ian who are with Claire when they find her and not Roger. Her two sons...

Why yes, I am judging all of the fans who like get their panties all wet over Jamie being like “It is I who kills for her.” Like “yeah go ahead and rape and beat Claire within an inch of her life if it means the big strong man gets to come in and save her and say something intense.” Fuck off and go take a hard look at yourself and what that says about you.

“Was there an Indian there?” “Nope, he wouldn’t help you because LiOnEl but somehow was able to peace out when it was in his interest. Because he is as bad as the ones who actually raped you.”

The Bree and Claire hug makes me both sad and angry. I want to hug them both and take them out of this fucking place and tell them that they’ve been done dirty and deserved fucking better from the writers.

Glad Marsali gets in on the hug. Claire’s two remaining daughters.

Claire’s “I have fucking survived” speech is like the one time she she actually talks about herself not in relation to a man. It’s about her. Claire. HOWEVER! It is epically fucked up that a woman needs to check off all the trauma she’s endured to show she’s a strong character.

So. Fucked. Up.

The fact that we’re spending time on Roger’s manpain about killing someone also really tells us a lot about the show’s feelings toward women. Yeah, killing someone is a big deal. It’s normal and expected to have feelings about it. But the juxtaposition of Claire’s speech about all of her traumas with Roger being like yeah, I killed a guy who had kidnapped, beaten and raped your mom is like, read the room, bro/writers.

The fact that the men put Claire’s rapist in her surgery, her space, her place of healing, where she is able to be most herself, makes me want to punch each and every one of them in the throat. Like seriously. Fuck each and every one of them.

Also Lionel is like cartoonishly terrible. Not that nuance has ever been this show’s strong suit. But like come the fuck on.

Marsali killing Lionel is the one thing about this episode that I didn’t hate. The men are all like “We kill for Claire! Let’s all rally in this montage and go do the manly thing of defending the woman!” Marsali is just like, yeah, that’s my Ma you fucked with. She shows some agency. She doesn’t do it in a performative way for the other men or for Claire like the guys do. She just knows this fuck needs to die, knows it’s gonna be hard for her and might damn her soul (don’t worry Marsali, all that religion crap is bullshit), and does it anyway.

Marsali’s arc has been my favorite of this whole fucking series. The one bright spot I was hanging on to all of this season especially.

Her quick scene with Jamie doesn’t bother me like Roger’s does. Because Roger is like oh no, I killed a guy! Can you forgive me? For killing a rapist? Like fuck off, bro. And Marsali is like yeah, I killed a guy. I hope I’m not damned for it, but the guy needed to die so I did it.

Also like, Richard had potential to not be cartoonishly bad. But like nope. “He reaped what he sowed, but cLeArLy I’m gonna need to escalate this further. Because manly men can’t let shit go.”

Fuck all men, tbh.

*googles how to emigrate to Themyscira*

Jamie’s speech that’s like supposed to parallel Claire’s can fuck all the way off. Giving him the last voice over just underscores how this was all about men. Not Claire. But the men. Fuuuuck everything.

Look! Everything’s fine again! Back to normal! Peaceful for a bit! With a cheesy af on the nose storm coming! So you know something bad’s coming! In case you forgot!

And Jamie got a book line. So it’s all good now.

And don’t worry about Claire, y’all. She feels safe now. Her and Jamie fucked it out.

It’s amazing, in retrospect, that I ever let this story suck me in so much.

Happy Mother’s Day! See you on the other side of the hiatus.

[titriwrites]

A Different Kind Of Birthday

So, it was @devikafernando‘s birthday a few days back. And I thought what better way to celebrate than bringen Dev and Tom back as a one-shot? See? Thought so. A slight warning: There is mention of the lockdown, as I decided their situation could work as a fluffy setting. If you’re not comfortable with that, I won’t be offended, if you don’t read. It’s nothing heavy though and mostly fun and fluff.

Read under the tag or on AO3 here.

A Different Kind Of Birthday

Dev didn’t mind birthdays, probably because she didn’t mind getting older either. She had a lovely life, living her dream with the little Bed & Breakfast she was managing with her brother and sister in law right there by the Irish coast.

And that wasn’t all she had to be grateful for. She was in a lovingly relationship with a beautiful man, everything going swimmingly despite the few ups and downs every relationship was facing every now and then.

Dev even liked the date of her birthday. The 29th June meant there was a good chance for a sunny birthday, especially as a child she loved playing outside with her friends, using the garden shower to cool down, eating cake and then chips in the evening

And 33 wasn’t old in the slightest, either. Especially if you had a future with Tom ahead of you – there wasn’t an engagement, yet, but she did have the key to his house in the English countryside, and there was talk about their future together, either in England, Ireland, or both.

But this year, it was different. Boy, so very, very different. She got to spend her birthday with Tom, sure. And that despite his work on the Loki series in Atlanta. Well. He was supposed to be working. He wasn’t. Seemingly nobody was, Dev included.

She was also not supposed to be here at all, though there wasn’t much to do for her in the Bed & Breakfast, either.

No, on this 29th June she was stuck in a hotel suite in Atlanta with Tom. She’d come in March – initially for two weeks, and then the pandemic came. She was stuck. Stuck with Tom, but stuck nevertheless. It had been nice in the beginning too, for them at least. Of course, there was the virus and the very, very scary number of infections. But they had each other, they spent time together – and more than one or two weeks for once. They enjoyed it, as far as they could.

And so, today was her birthday, and Dev was stuck in this hotel suite. She was annoyed. As annoyed as she’d never been before, she didn’t even think it was possible to be that annoyed. At Tom of all people, on her birthday even.

But they’d actually never spent so much time together. And while Dev loved Tom – she really, really did – boy, could he be annoying with time on his hands and nothing to do with it. Of course, emotions were running high as well. When could she go back to Ireland, when could he resume filming? When could they go out for more than a walk with Bobby? Yes, they were in love, but no, they were not used to spend 24 hours a day in each other’s company.

He whistled, songs mostly. And when he didn’t do that, he hummed. Or mumbled. It could be little quotes from books and movies or scenes out of his scripts. It was the worst when they watched movies. He was talking along. Tom also talked with food in his mouth, when he got too enthusiastic about things. And sometimes he was chewing too loudly when he got too engrossed in his movies and books.

When they’d only seen each other for a weekend or a week, they’d never had enough time to notice these things. And yes, she knew she wasn’t easy either.

That didn’t change the fact though, that right now, Tom was bouncing his leg, sitting on the couch, reading a book and mumbling along. Bobby was on the floor by his feet, not caring at all. Oh, how she wished to be that dog now.

“Oh, fuck it!” Dev exclaimed as Tom popped another biscuit – or cookie, as they were in the US now – into his mouth and swiped the crumbs with his tongue. She would have found him licking his lips sexy not long ago, but they’d been in lockdown for three months now, and she missed her family and it was her birthday, and she needed to get out.

Tom’s eyes found hers, innocently searching for anything that set her off. “What?” he asked.

“What?” Dev snapped back, then stood up. “What what!?” She put on her shoes and called for Bobby, who looked excited to go out. Not as excited as she was probably. “I’m going with Bobby, don’t wait up,” she grumbled as she left, shutting the door with a bang.

Tom blinked, then chuckled. He knew, of course he did. Hell, he was annoyed as well. And from his point of view, that was more than understandable. They’d never been a couple that was spending all their time together, quite the opposite really. They needed to get used to this. This was a low point now, but they’d get better again.

Plus, it wasn’t inconvenient, having Dev gone now. Meant he could get some work done. He smirked.

***

Dev felt bad when she got back a few hours later. First of all, Bobby was obviously exhausted from being outside so much, secondly they were in lockdown, and thirdly she’d left Tom alone. But then again Bobby had really needed the workout, it was very lovely outside – although she almost melted on the spot – and the park had been fairly empty, and Tom was a grown man. And surely being left alone for a few hours was better than being murdered by an annoyed girlfriend.

She opened the door, letting Bobby go from the leash and into the suite, and then she stopped in her tracks. It smelled delicious. But they’d said they wouldn’t do much tonight, despite it being Dev’s birthday. They couldn’t do anything anyway. But now, it smelled so nice.

Dev took off her shoes, pulled her hair up in a bun and patted into the pantry kitchen. Well, she wanted to, but she stopped in the doorway. Tom was kneeling on the floor, petting an excited Bobby, before letting go of the dog and looking up at Dev.

He smiled and got up. “Hey, there. Are you feeling any better?”

She opened and closed her mouth a few times. “Tom… what…”

The lights were dimmed, candles giving the living-room slash dining room slash kitchen a lovely, warm and soft glow. The delicious smell came from the large pizza in the middle of the dining table, which was set with wine glasses and the best tableware they had in this place. Soft music was playing, Dev recognised some Italian words. She felt so bad now.

“I thought we could have a birthday dinner?” He actually looked a bit sheepish, unsure of himself even. And Dev felt worse. “It’s not a ‘La Grotta’ original, but they were gracious enough to let me borrow their pizza recipe. And their chocolate-mousse recipe as well. Plus,” he held up one finger and pointed at the table, and now Dev could see the opened bottle of red wine, “they delivered two bottles of that wine we’ve tried, before this mess started.”

Dev covered her mouth with a hand, but it didn’t stop the sob from coming out. “Tom…”

“No, no, no,” he rushed over, “no crying, I want you happy.”

Before she knew it, she was in his arms, face pressed against his chest, her own arms wrapped around his waist, and felt his lips in her hair, leaving a soft kiss. “But I was so mean to you.”

“Hush now. You weren’t. And it doesn’t matter, it’s your birthday.”

“But.”

“Nuh-uh. No but.” He squeezed a little tighter. “Let me pamper you now. And let’s eat, it’s been smelling like heaven in here for the past 30 minutes, I need to get my hands on that pizza and that pudding.”

She sobbed and laughed at the same time. “God, I love you. And thank you.”

“I love you, too. And you’re more than welcome.” Tom let go a bit, and Dev caught his cheeky smile. “And maybe I’ll get my hands on something else tonight as well.”

He only wiggled his brows and laughed out loud, when Dev slapped his chest with a “Hey, now!”

But who was she kidding? He was right after all.

*

*

Tagging  @itsliterallythis @justthelosersblog @avenger-nerd-mom @archy3001 @nuggsmum @majk78 @hakimo2015 @noplacelikehome77 @theheartofpenelope @messy-insomniac-bookgirl @pipolaki

[kaitycole]

When Lies Unravel

Summary: Liam processes the news he got from Drake

Word Count: 3037

Pairing (for this piece): Constantine x Eleanor

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol consumption, hangover, lying

Part 9 of WP. To catch up read here.

Tag List: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore  @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways  @bobasheebaby @bascmve01  @burnsoslow  @the-everlasting-dream  @ao719 @sirbeepsalot  @janezillow  @i-bloody-love-drake-walker @kimmiedoo5  @choices97 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @lodberg @edgiestwinter @marshmallowsandfire  @hopefulmoonobject​ 

*I don’t own the characters, just borrowing them*

A/N: These are the face claims for Liam, Olivia and Queen Eleanor

“So, lame,” Liam mumbles as he sits in the window sill of one of the studies; it outlooks the apple orchard. The royal family is spending some time at Applewood Manor as a small vacation away from the palace.

“Prince Liam, what the matter?” A maid says as she enters the room.

“There’s nothing to do here.” He sighs.

“Where’s Prince Leo? I’m sure he’d be able to find something fun to do.”

He looks at the maid with a sad expression, “He said It was too cool to hang out with me anymore.”

The maid gives him a sympathetic expression before leaving. He turns back to looking out the window; he was a mixture of sad and angry. He begged his father to allow Drake to join them, but Constantine wouldn’t hear it. Even with Eleanor saying it wouldn’t hurt anything to allow the Walker boy to accompany them, Constantine practically forbade either of them for bringing the matter up again.

So here they were, at Applewood on a family trip while Leo was out in town, his father crammed in an office with work, his mother was planning meals with the kitchen staff and he was here, alone.

He gets up and decides to walk out to orchards, maybe it would harder to be sad outside. Liam sits on the swing but doesn’t swing; he just sits there, the wind gently moving him. He gets lost in thought, feeling foolish for thinking his father meant it when he announced the impromptu trip was about them all being a family.

A pair of warm hands touch his back before gently pushing him, causing him to jump.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, sweet boy.” His mother’s voice soothes him instantly but he doesn’t speak. If she asks him why he’s upset, he’d have to mention Drake and the Walkers seem to be a sore subject between the king and queen and he doesn’t want to upset his mother.

Eleanor walks around and kneels in front of Liam on the swing, “What has my sweet boy looking so serious? You look just like your father with such a serious expression.”

It always surprised her on just how serious her younger son could be at his age. While physically he looked just like her, he often reminded her more of her husband than herself. That fact alone broke her heart at times, she didn’t want him to end up as cold and callous as Constantine could be.

Seeing him like this hurt her, he was too pure and innocent to have such heavy burdens on his mind.

“I don’t want to look like father, I hate him.”

“Liam Rys! That is no way to speak of your father.”

“But I do, I do hate him. He wouldn’t let Drake come and I’m alone.”

She gives him a small smile but her heart break, she knew Constantine refusing to allow Drake to come but she didn’t think he would be this distraught about it.

“I’m not Drake, but would you do something with me?”

“What are we going to do?”

“Follow me, sweet boy.” She pats his head as he walks beside her back towards the manor before he looks up with a huge smile on his face.

**

“When will we be there, mother?”

“Soon, love. Be patient.” Eleanor has her son’s hand as they walk through the town. The light breeze is refreshing on this hot summer day, “Here we are.”

Liam looks at her confused as he sits down next to her on the outside stairs of a library. He watches as she browses through the bag that she’s brought along.

“What are we doing here, Momma?”

“It’s a beautiful day and we haven’t had just Momma and Liam time. I thought we could read together.”

Liam smiles at his mother, he loves when she reads to him. Ever since he could remember, his mother would read to him several times a day, but lately she seemed to be busier than normal.

“Which story are we going to read?”

“I was thinking,” she pulls a book out of her bag, “your favorite one; the story of an exiled queen and a man with mysterious powers who raise an army to reclaim a stolen army.”

Liam’s face lights up, “I love hearing about Kenna and Dom!”

“Once upon a time…” Eleanor starts before Liam puts up his hand.

He looks at her with a straight face, “That’s not how it goes, Momma!”

She laughs, “I knew you were too smart to be tricked.”

“Do it right, Momma.” Liam leans against his mother’s side as she starts the story the right way.

----

Liam looks down at the glass in his hand; unwarranted flashbacks and scotch filled every day that’s passed since Drake called. Five days. 120 hours. 7200 minutes. That’s how long it’s been since Liam went from functioning to barely alive.

He’s slumped down on the chaise lounge with one leg up. He couldn’t tell when the last time he left his office was; he’d been in the same dress pants and shirt for at least two days. There’s a dull ache pounding through his head from the alcohol and lack of sleep.

“Your Majesty?” There’s a faint tapping at the door.

Not now, fuck this king shit…

“Yes?” He mumbles.

“Sir, would you like some clean clothes? Your room has been cleaned if you’re interested in a change of scenery.”

“Maybe later.” He sits up and immediately feels a sharp pang split through his head, “Ah!”

Liam’s drank plenty in his life and has had hangover before but this one was different. It always is isn’t it, the ones that are attached to emotional and traumatic events always hurt the most. Cause the most pain. Just another reminder of the initial event.

He takes a deep breath before standing to his feet. He staggers backwards a little before regaining his balance. He looks over at his desk, a stack of files left by Bastien that he needed to read. He walks out of the office and into the bathroom of his swing.

Liam twists the handle, causing the hot water to pour through the shower head and onto him. It was refreshing, soothing, calming; something he hasn’t felt in days, hell, maybe not even months.

As he stood there, the water beating down on his shoulders, he realizes its time to pull himself together. Time to clean up, to put his crown back on and back to the stoic king he’s meant to be.

Kings don’t show emotions. Kings don’t express emotions. Kings stay firm and strong.

Constantine’s words ring through Liam’s head as he steps out of the shower, wiping the fog off the mirror. He looks at himself, thinking maybe his father was right. He just spent the last few days holed up, drunk in his office, allowing his emotions to swallow him whole.

**

Liam stares at the files on his desk. Bastien has been in full work mode since Drake called him. His best friend would never lie to him, but with the gravity of the subject, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t let that wall down without confirmation, without concrete proof. He has spent years learning how to function without a second parent. He’s spent countless nights waking up from the same nightmare he’s had since his mother died and to learn it could all have been a lie, is killing him.

Part of him doesn’t want to read the files. Part of him wants to continue to live in the bliss of ignorance, but it’s not just him who is affected by this.

Opening the first file, Liam finds himself unable to breathe. Documents of travel for an Eleanor Rys and Jackson Walker marked for the day after the alleged attack on the palace. Various addresses map out the last twenty years of their life together, the life that Liam wasn’t part of. NDAs from a few servants and guards who were involved in helping clean things up along with payment agreements for added silence.

There’s multiple agreements and letters with the king’s seal and signature on them; some Liam isn’t even sure what they are for. Liam learned a long time ago that his father was a liar, but this was unforgiveable. As he continued to flip through the folder, he saw documents for prenatal care; prenatal care that seemed to have begun in Cordonia. He finds himself holding his breath when he flips to a page that documents the paternity of a Baby Rhys. The misspelling of his last name causes confusion, but when he realizes the birthday doesn’t match up to Savannah, the realization crushes him. The baby was a secret, the misspelling was to conceal the baby’s identity.

He felt a mixture of anger and relief. Relief when he sees the baby’s father isn’t Constantine, but anger when he realizes Jackson Walker is.

How could he abuse his position that way? If it wasn’t for him, I’d have had my mother!

Shoving his chair backwards, he begins pacing his office. A hundred things crossing and racing his mind all at once. Was it right to be angry at Jackson? His mother was at fault too, right? But Liam couldn’t fathom being upset with her. All these years, he’s kept her on a pedestal. But how could she have left? How could she leave her husband? Leave her country without looking back?

How could she have just left me?

He sinks to his knees with his face in his hands. He silently demands his tears not to fall, but they commit treason and stream down his cheeks. All the memories from his childhood come crashing over him and just shatter. Everything becomes a blur; unable to tell what was real and what was just his take.

The tears continue to run down his face as he struggles to catch his breath. It’s as if his lungs have completely shut down, leaving him gasping for air. His chest begins to feel heavy; almost as if every failed attempt at breathing causes his chest to constrict even tighter. The tighter his chest constricts, the blurrier it seems his vision gets

 Bastien walks into the office and immediately runs to the King’s aid.

“Liam! Liam.” He shouts, but Liam can’t hear him.

All Liam can hear is the pounding of his heart in his ears as he sits on the floor, rocking back and forth repeatedly asking: Why didn’t she want me?

**

Liam paces next to his desk, contemplating if he wants to continue looking through the files. It’s be a few days since the last time he was in there; despite his protests, Bastien persuaded Liam to see the doctor. The doctor told him that in his opinion, he would chalk it up as a stress-induced panic attack and told him to take some time away from whatever caused it. The diagnosis had frightened him; he’d never had one so severe before but as King he had to push through it.

He sits down at his desk, moving the top file to the side and opens the second one. This file is full of photographs. Ones of Jackson and his mother. Ones of just Eleanor. He feels his chest start to constrict again when the photographs turn into a family of three.

He stares at the photo of Eleanor and the baby; a boy. Her face full of happiness and joy; just like how he always remembers her being. But the soothing moment for Liam ends quickly when he thinks of all the time he missed out on. On all the love he never got to feel. Liam stares at this baby, one of the people who took his mother from him. This baby…her son…the one his mother replaced him with.

Without a second thought, he grabs the files and throws them across the room before finally storming out; leaving the scattered pages to eventually fall to rest on the floor.

The slamming of the door caught everyone’s attention but it was only Olivia that got up to go to him. Everyone knew something was bothering the King, yet no one dared to interfere.

“Liam. Liam.” She calls out, but he continues walking outside towards the palace gardens.

There were a few gardeners tidying up when Liam finally stopped walking. Olivia finally catches up to him but she can’t read his face. He never comes to the gardens when there are gardeners are out here.

“Your Majesty.” The gardeners say as the bow.

Liam can feel the anger building as he breathes, rage starts to boil within, “Tear the gardens down.”

“Excuse me, Your Majesty?”

“Rip the gardens up!” Liam starts to tear the nearby flowers out of the ground, “Must I do everything in this country!” He scans the grounds, picks up a pair of hedge shears and starts hacking away at the nearby rose bushes and hedges.

Olivia waves the some of the gardeners away while some of the guards had gone in to find Bastien. When she gets closer, she can hear him talking to himself.

“She didn’t want to be here! She left. She left her family, her country, she left me. Why have these stupid gardens honoring her? What’s honorable about running away with a guardsman?” He shouts as he continues chopping at the bushes.

“Liam.” Olivia says softly.

“Oh, hey Olivia.” He turns and smirks at her.

She can see the tears pooling in his eyes and it breaks her heart, “Liam, honey, what are you doing?”

“They say that gardening helps the soul.” He sniffles and his arms drop to his sides as he finds himself unable to keep himself from crying.

Bastien finally arrives outside and takes the gardening tool from Liam before he drops to his knees, defeated. Olivia wraps him into her arms as his body begins to shake from his sobs. Bastien quickly clears out the area, leaving Olivia and Liam alone. She holds him closer to her, making soothing shushing sounds as she gently strokes his wet cheek.

There are several questions that she wants to ask him, in all their years of friendship, she’d never seen him act this way before. But she knows that they can wait, he didn’t need to be bombarded with questions. Right now, all Liam needed was to be held and loved.

**

“Can we talk?”

Liam looks up from his desk; after his meltdown in the gardens, he has spent the rest of the day holed away in his office. Fortunately for him, his outburst wasn’t heard by many and the ones that did hear it were sworn to never discuss it with anyone. As far as they knew, he was just upset over his mother’s death.

Olivia peaks her head into the office before Liam motions for her to enter. He wasn’t sure what to say to her; whether to tell her the truth or say it was just pent up emotions.

She takes a good look at Liam as she sits in the chair across from him. His eyes are red both from his previous tears and fresh tears. He also looks thinner than usual which worries her. She’d have to make sure he was eating better.

“Li—”

“Thank you for your help this morning, I appreciate you being there for me.” He doesn’t want to go into detail about it, so he hopes this will shut down any questioning.

“Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Liv…” He sighs.

She reaches across the desk and takes his hand in hers, her touch instantly relaxes him, “Let me carry some of the weight, Liam. Let me help you.”

He hands her one of the files and nods towards her. Olivia is his closest ally, a confidant and someone’s whose word he always takes under advisement. Her face starts out unreadable but slowly he watches the disbelief cover her expression.

“Oh Liam.”

“I trust this will stay between the two of us.”

“You already know that.” She says flatly. She was hoping that maybe he was just stressed about finding a suitor or another trade deal was bothering him; those things she could help him with, but this, this was completely uncharted territory, “How long have you known about this?”

“Drake called a few weeks ago, but Bastien confirmed it with these a little over a week ago.”

“Drake knew?”

“Drake and Riley have been in contact with Jackson. Apparently, Drake has been working on Jackson’s farm for a couple of months now.”

Her jaw dropped. Months? Drake knew this for months? “Has he said anything else?”

Liam looks down, he wrings his hands together, “Apparently there’s a boy.”

Olivia jolts up, “You have a brother?”

“Drake says he looks almost identical to myself. Eleanor kept with the L names; his name is Luke.”

The coldness in Liam’s voice when he mentions his mother’s name send a chill down Olivia’s spine. He’s never spoken about her with anything but warmth and love and just now, if was if he was speaking of someone he despised.

He passes her another file, the one full of photographs and her heart breaks even more. The fact that Liam essentially had pictures showing the childhood that he deserved with Queen Eleanor but never got, ignited a rage within her. Drake had told the truth, if Olivia hadn’t known better, she’d have thought the young boy could’ve been Liam. However, Liam had his mother’s striking blue eyes where this boy shared the dark brown eyes of a Walker.

“What about your mother?”

“What about her?”

“You said Drake has been in contact with Jackson, has he seen Eleanor?”

Liam shakes his head, “He’s said nothing about my mother. My intentions were to read through these files before reaching out to Drake about visiting.”

She goes to speak but bites her tongue. He has that look in his eyes, the one that she fell in love with; the look of pure determination. “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Olivia,” he calls out just before she closes the door behind her, “Thank you for everything today.”

“Always.”