#i always thought he was probably seen as a monster by his own people

[raydianbluesandhues]

Do you have any hcs about Blob? That do you think his “mysterious past” is all about?

[guardian music]

Hi yes i do >:] it’s about time i share my headcanons about him

Buckle up folks it’s time for blob headcanons part 2: explaining his backstory this time

——

I think I’ve stated in his previous headcanon post that he isn’t Raydian. It’s very obvious that he isn’t; comparing him to one is like comparing a cat to a dog. There’s some similarities but there are a few differences that set them apart.

For starters Raydians don’t have tails! Blob does and it often trails behind him loosely. He has partial control over it but it does what it wants most of the time. It’s sort of his “compass” in a sense? It usually ends up pointing somewhere he needs to go, or he usually uses it to point to an exact place since the end of it is an arrow (and it makes it easier for him to track things). He gets asked about it sometimes and he just says/signs

“Oh, this thing? It’s my tail” and he goes back to whatever he was doing

As for what he is/could be, have a small bit of trivia:

before the development of De Blob, there was De Blob: Utrecht! Based off of the Utrecht School of Arts, this was essentially the prototype to the De Blob games.

this game basically followed the same plot: INKT taking over a colored city, Blob comes in to save the day

Though- instead of using color, you had to absorb people

( if you don’t believe me it’s on the wiki )

I remember reading this and I’m like “Oh cool. So what if I took this and just. made them like a subspecies of Raydians” which is why we’re here today

Utrecht (The Planet) and Utrechian/Utrechter (The People that Live There)

I headcanon them as carnivores based off the game’s mechanic of literally absorbing people. They can eat fruits but it’s not something they’re going to make a main part of their diet

They’re probably a lil grumpy and rude as result but they’re pretty similar to Raydians outside of that, colorful and genderless folks

I’ll make a separate post about these guys but! That’s what I believe he could be.

As for his backstory, I do believe he was born there, but was most likely discarded for his appearance. He was probably taken in by someone who possibly had a bit of pity for him, and could’ve eventually migrated over to Raydia. He wasn’t raised in Chroma (and if I remember correctly he was raised in Pantone Village) and most likely started realizing he wasn’t exactly normal compared to everyone else

Outside of the literal difference in species his powers are incredibly out of the ordinary. I think I briefly explained them but to sum it up: he can manipulate color energy. Reviving trees, changing the appearance of a bird, breaking Graydians out of suits by overloading them with color energy. He’s able to both manipulate color energy to do what he wants and is able to raise the color energy levels by simply painting.

These powers were something he was either given or born with, and while I’ve always said he was born with them it doesn’t make a bunch of sense. Who would he have gotten them from?

It would make more sense that he had gotten them from somewhere, possibly from some sort of accident or a strange overload of color energy. Perhaps that messed him up and now he has the ability to paint and do all that he can currently do

And what he got into contact with is an absolute mystery to me. Maybe an over abundance of color atoms? Color energy is very unstable and I wouldn’t be surprised if that were to be the reason, but it’s something that I’ll have to think about more

I don’t think he has an appetite for meat purely because of his upbringing; it probably makes him sick and irritates his stomach. It also probably tastes gross to him and he absolutely prefers fruits

And i think constantly being around Raydians has also influenced this. I think if he stuck to his natural diet he would have no friends whatsoever

He probably goes quiet when someone asks him where he’s from, or what his story is. It’s probably not a fond memory for him/he doesn’t remember everything. and asking about his power is probably going to get you the same response

[kryptonitejelly]

art donaldson x childhood friend reader who he hasn’t seen in a long time (whose had a crazy glow up) visits him at stanford at the same time as patrick and patrick starts hitting on her (him and tashi are in an open relationship) and art gets jealous.

(maybe she tells patrick she knows he’s in a relationship and he tells her tashi wouldn’t mind and she would probably be down to join idk)

art donaldson x reader // challengers // fluff; happy ending

a/n: i did not hit the prompt on the head 100%, but i’m not mad at it. this ended up turning into a monster i had no control off and ended up being alot longer than i expected (i haven’t done a word count, and did not mean for it to spiral into this but i enjoyed writing this very much). i am an art donaldson defender and this is my way of giving him everything he deserves (i hope you guys can see what i subtly tried to do in places - please leave comments/reblog if you see them, it would mean the world). also i typed this entirely on my phone without proofreading - you’ve been warned.

edit - as a disclaimer, i do not purport to comment on the victim/villain/any dynamic in the challengers universe. this space is purely for delusional thoughts and fiction only (see also)

-

Good luck.

Art shoots the text off to you before taking a swig out of cup of diet coke he has in hand. He leans forward, his forearms on his knees, teeth crunching on ice cubes as lets his gaze sweep across the court in front of him. It is devoid of players but already has the umpire and linesmen ready and waiting.

You’ll buy dinner if I win?

Art doesn’t expect to get a text back, so he checks his phone absently, but his face breaks into a tiny grin as he sees your reply. Most other players would have been hyper focused in the moments before a match but you, in the breezy light hearted way you always were, still had it in you to joke around.

Yes, but if you lose…

Art sends his response, the tiny grin still on his face.

I’ll feed you.

Your reply is fast and it makes art shake his head lightly a quiet chuckle dropping from his lips. He is just about to type another reply but is interrupted by the loud cheers that erupt from around him. Art looks up from his phone to see Anna Davies walk out on court in the same colour red as he had on. He claps politely with the rest of the men’s team who he was sitting amongst in the stands, in a show of support.

Art catches sight of Tashi and Patrick, both perched a few rows down from him with the rest of the women’s team both clapping and hollering in support. He notices the turn of Patrick’s head, no doubt to check in on Art but he doesn’t tilt his head or smile back in acknowledgement as he usually would - he is far too distracted by you.

Art can feel his jaw slacken slightly as you walk on court. He knows what you look like, but you in the flesh - Art thinks you are breathtaking. Your top is in a shade of your college’s colour, paired with a white tennis skirt that shows off a pair of toned, long legs. He catches a glint of metal just above your ankle, and he finds himself squinting in a feeble attempt to make out the look of the ankle bracelet that you have on. Art moves his gaze your face, taking in what he can see from his perch on the stands as you walk out towards your designated bench on the court, bright neon green bottle in hand, your tennis bag slung on a shoulder.

You had been close back home for most of your childhood and more formative teen years, and the both had kept in touch since he left for Stanford and you to your own school of choice, but too infrequently - the occasional text, more frequent reaction or comment on each other’s social media and the small conversations that spiralled from those interactions - like two planets orbiting in the same solar system, but not close enough. Life had overtaken, the excitement of moving your separate ways to a new environment, of college - tennis, academics, people, parties, it had overwhelmed you both, individually and together - made you just about forget that you had each other.

Art is transfixed. You are, lithe, glowing and with a hop in your step - Art finds himself questioning why he had never made more effort to keep you closer since you had both gone on your separate paths. He watches as you settle your bag on the bench, turning your gaze to the stands, eyes narrowing from the glare of the sun as you search the stands, only for your gaze to fix on his. Art sees you smile, lips turning up as you wink directly at him. It makes a series of heads turn to look back at him - your fellow team mates, the small group of supporters from your college who had come along, and the Stanford women’s team plus Patrick, half curious, half puzzled. Art can only raise a hand beside his chest in greeting as he remembers to breathe, letting the air he had been holding in his chest out.

He sees turn away while reaching for your phone which you had wedged in between the band of your tennis skirt and skin. Your fingers flying over the keypad briefly before you toss the phone into your tennis bag, hand fishing out your racket. Art feels his phone buzz in his hand and he looks down at the text that had come through.

Stanford still hasn’t taught you the right way to wear a cap huh.

Your text, a reference to his penchant for securing his cap on backwards, makes Art laugh, out loud, the sudden sound causing his team mates to crane their necks in attempt to look at his phone. Art swats them away as he refocuses his attention back on you, watching as you do a few hops, shifting your body weight from side to side before walking to your position on court, racket in hand. You lose the coin toss, and Anna choose to serve and yet your demeanour is one of ease, something Art can’t help but think is so stark in contrast to Tashi before a match. You aren’t smiling anymore, and yet in an unexplainable fashion, Art can feel you smiling as you bend to ready position, your hands flipping the handle of the racket around, poised to receive. He sees Anna toss the ball, her back arching, hand shooting up, before she connects her serve, and he watches you receive it with ease, your body moving in a smooth motion as you hit it back. Your strokes have their own weight and intention behind them, they are careful, thought out - but what surprises Art is he sees little calculation behind each. Instead, he watches as you let yourself feel each shot, as you let your instinct take control with each step. Art sees himself moving pieces of chess across the court when he watches replays of his game, but with your game, - Art manages to see colour, life, ease. He sees something he hasn’t seen in his tennis since he had last played with you, Art sees fun.

-

The match isn’t long drawn out, you win - effortlessly, just as each of your strokes and movement are. It frustrates Anna, as is evident from the increasing number of unforced errors she makes on her art which leads to her swearing loudly as you easily hit the last heavy, driving it quick and to the opposite corner of the court from where she is positioned. Art finds himself clapping enthusiastically along with the crowd as the umpire calls the game.

-

“You never told me you had such good looking friends,” Art feels an arm sling itself around his neck, pulling him close as he stands outside the court, waiting for you to finish your match debrief with the rest of the team.

“Shouldn’t you be with Tashi?” Art questions as he tugs himself out and under, away from Patrick’s hold. His eyes remain focused on the door of the tennis court, waiting for you to emerge.

“Some strategy meeting,” Patrick offers as explanation, “refocusing or something like that.”

Art starts to say something in response only to be stopped by the view of you walking out from the courts. You both lock eyes, not too similar from how you had with you on the court and him on the stand. Art thinks that your smile is more brilliant up close.

Neither of you say a word, as you walk up to him, hands reaching up to tug his cap off his head only for you to pop it promptly on your own head, the right way around.

“The right way,” you say in greeting, pointing towards his cap which is now sitting on your head, the Stanford red a confusing contrast to your your top, now a loose fitting tshirt in your college colours, as Art chuckles while running a hand through his hair, attempting to shake out any flatness.

“The red looks good on you.”

“Perhaps I should transfer.”

“Didn’t peg you for a traitor,” Art teases which makes you laugh.

“Do I get a hug,” you ask, both of you oblivious to Patrick who is just watching.

“C’mere,” Art says, his words inviting, but just almost slightly shy as he opens his arms to you. You step into his embrace, arms slipping around his body as Art brings his arms around your shoulders, hands bumping into the tennis bag you have on your shoulders. His embrace is familiar, and you let yourself relax into his hold.

“Could I get a hug?” you hear a different male voice chime in and you pull away to look curiously at the brunette who is standing just beside you both.

“Fuck off Patrick,” you hear Art say with no bite, but notice as he steps just that one inch in front of you in an attempt to place himself as some sort of barrier between you and the brunette.

“Patrick Zweig,” the boy says, ignoring Art as he proffers a hand to you which you shake to be polite while introducing yourself.

“Do you go to Stanford as well?” You take in his attire of jeans and a white tee, the lack of red - you would guess not but it didn’t hurt to ask.

“I’m just visiting,” he says, “I’m actually playing on tour.”

“Losing on tour,” Art corrects.

“Your tennis is insane,” Patrick comments, ignoring Art, “when will I see you on tour?”

“I don’t intend on turning pro,” you respond with the flash of a smile.

“Why?” Patrick continues the conversation, now slightly befuddled, “you’re a natural.”

You shrug with a laugh, not answering and simply brushing off his question.

“Why don’t I take you to dinner and you can tell me why.” Patrick’s statement makes Art roll his eyes.

“Aren’t you taking your girlfriend our for dinner?” Art chips to which Patrick simply shrugs not phased in the slightest and answers with a no.

“Thanks, but I already have a dinner to cash in on,” you offer Patrick a smile, before glancing at Art.

“I’m sure Art wo-”

“Nope, fuck off Patrick,” is what Art says again, not even giving the other man a chance to finish his sentence. It makes you laugh, but you follow as Art grabs your hand, tugging you off in a direction away from Patrick.

“It was nice meeting you Patrick,” you call out, turning your head towards him giving him a wave with your free hand, “good luck on the tour!”

You walk for a minute or two more until the tennis courts are out of range before Art stops. He lets go off your hand, but reaches instead to grasp the top of the tennis bag on your shoulder. You raise a brow questioningly only to have him tug again with a slight tilt of his head. You relinquish the bag to him and he hoists it on his shoulder instead.

“What a gentleman,” you joke, but with a smile on your face.

Art does a mock bow with a flourish of his hand which makes you laugh with a shake of your head.

“Your chariot awaits my lady,” he extends a hand to you, waist still tilted in a bow, but his head up and looking at you.

“Lead the way,” you place your hand on top of his again.

“My car is that way,” he says jerking a thumb towards his right as he intertwines his fingers with yours. Its the second time in the day where he’s holding onto your hand but you don’t think too much of it and neither does Art. It feels right, comforting, familiar and like it’s supposed to be - and you go with it.

-

“Sorry about Patrick,” Art says as he fiddles with the paper casing of the straw. You are both sitting in a booth, plates cleared, your drinks left in front of you. Art is leaning back but being across him you can feel his knees knocking into yours. Dinner had gone by way too fast for Art’s liking. There had been both plenty to catch up on, as well as new information to learn and yet - it had felt like no time had passed between you both.

“He’s a bit of an ass isn’t he,” you say as you lean back, a mirror of Art. Your comment elicits a bark of laughter from him.

“Girls don’t usually say that about him.”

“What do they say?”

“Well not say, but they usually fall at his feet or into his bed,”

“No,” it makes you crinkle your nose while you shake your head.

“His girlfriend Tashi,” Art says, fingers still fiddling with the wrapper, “we played tennis for her number, she chose him.” Art said referencing the tennis match between him and Patrick. His sentence is blunt, to the point, and yet manages to be vulnerable at the same time. Art surprises himself as the words slip out from his lips so easily but it feels easy to tell you, safe to let himself be vulnerable, fine to let you view him for who he truly is.

You both sit in silence for a beat or two, the only sound between you both being the rustle of paper in Art’s fingers.

“Well,” you begin, “if she made you play for her number, maybe its for the better you didn’t win.”

Art’s fingers give pause and he looks up at you. His expression is unreadable, but you don’t feel like you’ve said anything wrong - just the obvious.

“I guess you are right,” he says after a few seconds of silence, before raising his head to look at you. There is a small smile on his face that you can’t quite place.

“When have I been wrong Donaldson?” You challenge in jest as you lift a leg under the table to jostle one of his lightly. Art leans forward, managing to capture one of your legs, your calf in the warmth of his palm.

“You really want me to start?” Art questions as you wriggle your leg in attempt to get away but no no avail.

“No.”

“Let’s see, the time we were six and you thought that the way to get strawberry milk was to dump pink food colouring in normal milk.”

“Stop,” you protest, but with a laugh on your lips.

“Or the time we were ten and you were convinced that the park we passed by on the way home from school was haunted and we had to sprint past that stretch of sidewalk for 3 whole months.”

“It was creepy!”

“How could we forget the one time we were thirteen and you thought that the way babies were made wa-”

“Arthur Donaldson,” you protest, managing to wrestle your leg out of his grasp which has grown looser with each anecdote. It allows you to set your foot on the ground, body shooting up to lean across the table, your palm coming to cover Art’s mouth to prevent him from announcing any further recollections from your youth.

You can feel his breath hot against the palm of your hand as his muffled laugher fills the space of your booth.

“Art,” you huff, relinquishing his full name for his nickname again. You move to drop your hand from his face, but Art catches a hold of your wrist. You sit back down, butt hitting the seat again, but with your hand still stretched across the table, wrist still loosely wrapped in one Art Donaldson’s hand. His shoulders are still shaking, now with a silent laughter.

“Art,” you try again.

“I’m sorry, it’s just so funny,” Art exhales, trying to collect himself as best as he can. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, freely and with such reckless abandon over something so innocent.

“Your dedicated court jester, always here to serve,” you mock with a roll of your eyes.

“You’ve been derelict in your duties,” Art says, now calm, but his eyes still twinkling under a mop of strawberry blonde hair. He keeps his tone light but what he really means to say is that it has been too long. You chuckle, not really having an answer for him.

“It’s been a while,” you finally admit, both your hands now resting on the table between you, you wrist now lying upturned in Art’s open palm. You had always been close

“It has, hasn’t it,” it isn’t really a question. Art has missed you - something he hasn’t realised until today. He had let himself be distracted by the complex, focused toxicity that was tennis, Patrick and Tashi, letting himself get sucked into the whirlpool, that he had forgotten to hold on to the things that grounded him.

“Maybe we should change that.”

“We should change that,” Art corrects you and you can feel the tips of your ears burning, and the skin across your cheek bones tingling for some reason.

-

You aren’t quite sure how ended up here, but one thing had lead to another as you both made your way out of the restaurant and back to Art’s car, and the next thing you knew you were heading back to his dorm to watch reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer for some reason.

“How do you not find her hot?” You ask again for the tenth time as you both focus on the screen of Art’s laptop which is perched half on his thigh and half on yours. You are both sitting on his bed, shoulder to shoulder, both of your heads damp from (separate) showers in Art’s ensuite, and you smelling quite like him from having used his toiletries and borrowing a short and shirt set, both of which which were a baggy fit for you.

“I don’t know, I just don’t.”

“You’re rubbish Donaldson,” you snort, nudging your elbow lightly into his ribs with a simultaneous yawn.

“Tired?” Art asks, as you stifle another yawn.

“Yeah,” you accept, seeing little point in trying to hide it. You had after all, played a match today.

“I should really get back to the hotel,” you mumble, the back of your head leaning against the wall beside Art’s bed, eyes closing.

“You could just stay here,” there is a hint of hesitation in his voice because he isn’t sure if you’ll stay.

“Here?”

“My bed’s a double,” Art shrugs, “it would also be quicker for you to get to the matches tomorrow.” You aren’t playing but Art knows you would be expected to show up as a supporter for the series of matches between your two schools that continued tomorrow.

“Are you sure?” You don’t mind, after all - it’s Art, the boy you had known growing up, shared milkshakes and apple slices with after school, but you wanted to be sure he was truly fine with it.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Art moves to shit his laptop, lifting himself to bend over the edge of the bed to place the laptop on the floor, “you can take the inside.”

He flops down on the outside of the bed that is further from the wall too easily, his right hand going behind his head. Him moving forces you to move in tandem as you flop down on Art’s left, legs scrambling under the covers which Art has somehow managed to worm his way under in the flurry of movement.

Art reaches a hand over, his arm extending over you in the process to hit the light switch that he has beside his bed. It plunges you both into darkness, the only light the faint glow from the street lamps creeping in from below his curtains, and the glow of his digital clock.

You flip onto your right side, eyes closed, missing the turn of Art’s head as he observes yours features, closed eyes, lashes, nose, lips, finding his gaze lingering a moment too long on your lips.

“Stop staring Art.”

“Am not.”

“I can feel it,” you respond, lips curving into a smirk. It was a habit he had developed from the sleepovers you both had either in his living room or yours when you were both younger. You would close your eyes, just about to doze off, only to hear the faint shifting of a head against a pillow while Art turned to stare at you, his blue-brown eyes boring into you.

“Am not.”

“Go to sleep Art.”

-

“So I guess I’ll see you around,” You are standing just a distance off the side of the bus which is supposed to take you back to campus. The matches for the day had ended, with your school having won by one match.

“Yeah,” Art replies, drawing out his words as he takes you in, he finds himself think that he had very much preferred you in his clothes despite them being oversized and not as well fitted as your own. You had managed to change into a fresh set of school colours before the matches started earlier that morning, having pleaded with your angel of a roommate to help you lug your overnight bag, which you hadn’t even had the chance to unpack the night before, over to the courts before the matches had begun. She had taken one look at you in Art’s tshirt, shorts with his hoodie thrown over, and had given you the widest smirk known to man despite your insistence that nothing had happened.

“I think you are scheduled to come play next month,” you refer to the Stanford men’s team, “I’ll see you then?”

“Or I could see you next week?” Art says almost shyly as he raises a hand to rub the back of his head. Art was a walking oxymoron, easily grabbing your hand, asking you to sleep in his bed, and yet somewhat bashful in the moments in between, “the drive over is an hour, max.”

“I would like that,” your response earns you a mega watt smile, his eyes twinkling at you. You both hear voices calling Art away from the bus, one male, one female - but Art ignores them both.

-

“Yeah and I told her-” your sentence is cut off by a nudge to your shoulder.

“Stanford” you friend explains with slightly too much glee in her voice. She had seen the smile on your face after returning from your away game last weekend, and the way you had been constantly glued to your phone, grin on your face, laughter peppering your days, the name Art Donaldson a constant fixture in your notifications.

Your head swivels up and to your left to spot Art leaning against his black jeep, hands crossed loosely across his chest. He smiles when he sees you, and your face mimics his expression.

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” you friend calls out as she pushes you in Art’s direction. You pull a face at her while rolling your eyes, but letting your legs carry you towards Art.

“Are you stalking me Donaldson?” You ask in jest. Art had texted you half an hour earlier, asking which part of campus your last class of the Friday was in and where he should pick you up from.

“Hundred percent,” he says as he opens his arms; you step into his embrace for a brief hug, before he turns to open the car door for you. You unload your bag from your arm, dropping it onto the floor of the passenger’s seat before climbing in. You move to close the door, but Art is in between you and the door, reaching over to click your seatbelt into place.

“Ready?” He asks, and you nod, gazing into bright blue-brown eyes.

-

“Positivism,” Art says simply at your question of what theory of jurisprudence he found himself most inclined towards. You think for a moment, the side of your face propped up with a hand, elbow on the counter of the bar you both are seated at, your body turned towards Art who is likewise, facing you.

“Positivism,” you roll the words around your tongue, “I guess it tracks,” you shrug, before raising a brow slightly, “but how does an engineering undergraduate so much about jurisprudence?”

“I read.”

“On jurisprudence?” You frown nose wrinkling as you reach your hand out to place the back of it against Art’s forehead as if to check if he had a fever, “are you alright?”

“You mean you don’t read engineering daily in between sets?” Art questions you with mock horror as he reaches up to tug your hand down from his forehead. Your hand ends up, yet again, in Art’s, which is resting on his knee.

“Why engineering, and not something with a lighter course load?” The underlying question is clear - Art had every intent of going the pro track post-Stanford, and it wasn’t that he would be making full use of his degree anyway.

“I don’t want the only skill I have to be hitting a ball with a racket,” he shrugs, “it feels good to know I can do something else.”

You hum in bother understanding and agreement as you feel Art’s thumb begin to stroke the back of your hand. It distracts you, his calloused thumb sliding across your skin.

“In another life I’m sure you would have made a darn good engineer Art Donaldson.”

Your words make Art laugh, something he found himself doing a lot with you.

-

“So, this is me,” you point towards the dormitory buildings up in front and Art slows his car to a stop, pulling the gear into park. He kills the engine before hopping out of his seat. Your hand is on the handle of the door, ready to open it for yourself but Art is faster, his hand on the outside lever, pulling the door open for you.

Art offers you a hand as you hop out of the jeep before he shuts the door behind you.

“I had fun tonight,” you find yourself saying, suddenly feeling slightly shy for reasons you cannot fathom.

“Me too,” is what Art says in response, his hands stuck on the pockets of his jeans, heels rocking in a back and forth motion. You see his gaze on you, locking with yours before flickering to your lips. It makes you bite down one on side of your lip, an action which causes Art to gulp, making the Adam’s apple on his throat bob.

“We should do-”

“Can I kiss you?” Art blurts out his question in a burst and you can see his face flush slightly as he asks, a surprising and yet apt contrast to the Art who had no qualms about holding your hand in his. You feel your heart quickening, and with the silence between you both - you almost feel as if you can hear each beat.

“Yes,” you breathe out, a small nod accompanying your response. You see Art’s gaze flicker to your lips again, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about this.

Art takes a step forward, pulling his hands out of his pockets. You feel him cupping your face gently, and you tilt your head towards him. Your eyes flutter close and your lips meet.

Art’s lips are softer than you imagined. You feel his hands move, slipping down the sides of your body, circling your waist and pulling you closer. You drop your bag off your shoulder onto the floor as your hands move up, one to cradle the side of his face, and the other reaching behind, fingers weaving into soft curls as you tug him closer towards you. First kisses with someone new had always been awkward for you - teeth, lips, noses, as you each try to figure out the grooves and crannies of each other, but with Art - there was no such thing. It felt as if you both had learnt each other long ago, each in and out, the curve of his neck, and the the planes of your body.

You break the kiss first, pulling away, eyes still closed, feeling as if the breath had been knocked out of you in the best way. Your forehead pressed against Art’s, body held firmly against his.

“I hope you aren’t going to send me packing after that.” Your eyes flutter open at his words.

“You packed an overnight bag didn’t you?”

“I might have,” Art pulls you even closer, his arms wound tight around you.

“Presumptuous much?” You run a hand through the front of his hair, pushing his fringe back.

“Just good at reading the room.”

-

12 years later

The skin across your knuckles are visibly tight, your hands clenched into fists, the only sign of the nerves that have taken over and riddled your body. Your eyes are shielded by dark oversized glasses, but your pupils are darting left and right as the final point of the match plays before you. The stadium is silent, save for the pop of the ball and the grunts from the two players on court. You hear an exceptionally loud grunt, the whizzing of a racket whipping through the air, and then you hear it before it hits you - the roar of the crowd, the thundering claps, and you feel your body freeze as even the announcer goes wild.

“Art Donaldson, ladies and gentleman, our new US Open champion.”

You remain glued to your seat despite the commotion around you - family, Art’s team, cheering, jumping, excited hugs being passed around. Your eyes watch as Art runs towards the center of the net, hand raised as he waves to the crowd around. He shakes his opponents hand, before waving to each section of the stadium in thanks of their support and there he is, jogging towards you. His hair is dripping with sweat, plastered to his head, shirt clinging to his body. He extends a hand to you even before he reaches the sideline and your body reacts from habit, standing, your hand extending back towards him. A warm hand, the back of it still slick from sweat grasps yours, tugging you forward lightly.

“Hi,” is all he says as Art’s lips meet yours. Art enjoys the tennis, but he doesn’t need it - doesn’t need the tennis, the fame, the money, or the trophies - all he needs is you.

You hear the crowd go wild at the display of affection, the announcer’s voice booming over the sound system with something about Art Donaldson and his wife, but it all fades - the commotion, the sound, the people, the tennis, because all you see is Art.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[atombombkaytee]

I’ve watched the entire series again today in a hungover state and I CAN’T DEAL with all the parallels.

I mean, when Lucy finds out about her Dad’s true actions and origins - her whole world falls apart. She saw the vaults as safety - she looked up to her Dad more than anyone else in the world. She learns that he’s lied about who he is as a man and as her father, but also she must realise that the vault’s are hiding their own dirty secrets (especially after her experience at vault 4) and that her Dad is a part of that too. She even says to Max, after leaving vault 4, that if she destroyed a whole community to save him, he would be heartbroken: when that’s exactly what he did on an even grander and more terrible scale. Lucy’s life wasn’t even in direct danger to warrant that reaction - he’s just an insecure selfish arsehole.

At the very same time we see the flashback scene of Coop hearing Barb suggest that they drop the bombs on America. This woman that he loves and trusts and has made a family with - who he said he fell in love with because she always tries to do the right thing. Their reactions at the point of realisation - shock, inability to speak, almost dissociation - are both extremely similar. Him having gone through that betrayal before (and likely plenty of times since) is EXACTLY why he talks to Lucy how he does. He’s preparing her for the eventual heartbreak - because he has experience which states that nothing could ever be as perfect as she claims her life is. When he’s making ass jerky from Roger, he even tells her: there’s what people say they do and then there’s what they really do.

When you look at all of that, really, in the scheme of things, Coop - the man that she’s seen as this inhuman, cruel, murderous monster - he’s the good guy. He too thought his wife’s business with vault tec was abhorrent. Yes, he’s been warped and twisted by the wasteland and by his own trauma - but he does see this brightness in Lucy. He thought she was just naive and full of bullshit (especially being a vault dweller. Something which I’m sure triggered him considering his past with vault tec and the links to his wife) but when she proved herself by giving him the vials instead of letting him die, he’s probably amazed that there’s someone left in the world who isn’t just a liar and a terrible person. He’s so used to betrayal and violence by this point. She’s a good person - a trait that he literally said he was in love with his wife because of. She softens him.

But she also proves herself in another way - by shooting her feralled mother - showing that she’s also grown and learnt that not everything is black and white. It’s not just “good and bad” in this world. And although Coop has questionable morals, he’s honest, like her. He tells it how it is. Plus, after her Dad’s huge life changing betrayal and her time in the wasteland, she understands a little more why Coop has done all the things that she’s seen him do - I mean he did meet her pretty much day one out of the vault initially - hence why she goes with him. He has hardened her up to protect her in the wasteland.

Wilzig even says “will you still want the same things when you’re a different animal altogether.”

My god. It’s just genius. Absolutely genius.

“You comin’?”

Edit: Can we also talk about how Coop is basically the inspiration for the vault boy - who Lucy basically looks to (physically a few times throughout the series) for inspiration to do the right thing. AND the fact that her Dad was obviously a bit obsessed with Coop and probably still was when Lucy was born, seeing as he’d been in a pod and had only just woken up, retaining recent memories. So Lucy likely watched all of his films and her Dad maybe even saw him as a bit of a role model (or at least his in-film characters). AND the obvious exchange of index fingers. Yup. Honestly if this relationship doesn’t become cannon, I will start dropping bombs too.

ANOTHER EDIT: Sorry one last thing but, I just want to add: nothing that post-war Coop does is personal. It’s either: to get a job done, survival, because he’s been triggered by something (understandable after what’s he been through) or, in Lucy’s case, to teach a (admittedly often harsh) lesson. He doesn’t just mindlessly kill - or particularly enjoy killing - he just has no issue with it, it’s all just means to an end. He even still remembers to pay for his tomatoes in Filly ffs haha… I imagine he’s extremely numb and devoid of all feeling - except for when it comes to his wife and little girl. That’s the only time we see more visceral reactions in either actions or dialogue from him. He’s such an intricate character and Walton did an amazing job of portraying him.

[yan-lorkai]

Hello, I just found your blog and I saw that you didn't have anything written yet, could you write a Yandere Alucard x reader?, where Alucard knows that his love is not like a normal one, but he still wants to love and care for the reader in his own way? I don't know if you could understand me, English is not my language.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: English isn't my first language either, darling, but don't worry. You're pretty good and I can understand you just fine! Normally when the requester doesn't specify what format they want, I write headcanons. But for this one I went with a drabble, hope you like it! 〜⁠(⁠꒪⁠꒳⁠꒪⁠)⁠〜

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: yandere content, non consensual cuddling, implied kidnapping.

Alucard is not one for meaningless sentimentality, if he ever was when he was still human. He doesn't know, can't remember anything before turning into the monster he is today, shrouded by shadows and blood, by vicious bloodlust and thrill of the chase. One thing he remembers though it's love.

Ephemeral, fragile love that humans spend almost all their lives trying to get. Eternal, unconditional love that can swept anyone from their own feet. He's not going to admit it but love was something unknown to him.

Alucard has watched love blossom and change through the ages. Even if he can't remember now, he probably was loved by his parents, his mother probably engulfed him in her arms to protect him from harm, to make him feel safe and loved. Even now he watched and listened and observed love in its pure form, soft and happy, and all around him. He knows enough to know that his love it's tainted and impure just like him. It's all consuming, it's cruel, but he is a cruel monster ready to take and never be satisfied.

He can torn vampires to bits, can disconnect heads from their bodies and bathe in the blood of each of his enemies. Battles against ghouls became orchestrated displays of his commitment, each confrontation a macabre testament of his devotion to you. If only you could see it like this but you were always wary around him, scowling uncomfortably at his bloodied state and dismissing his gifts. Though he suppose eyes and bones don't make good gifts.

His slender fingers continue to tap rhythmically on the arm of the chair. The sound echoing loudly though the palpable silence that plagued your room. You are such a fragile little human, he could crush you so easily beneath his fingers. Could strangle and hear your whimpers and groans, could see the life leave your eyes just like he's seen it in so many other people. But he choose not to.

Instead, he should bring you a heart or a brain. Maybe even the entire corpse. Would that scare you too much though? He doesn't think so.

You're entertaining to watch and you make him feel things he thought he would never feel. For now, he's happy with this, he's happy watching you snuggling against your pillows, wrapped in the soft covers that hid you from the world.

Alucard's red eyes fixed on you with an intensity that could send shivers down your spine if you were awake. His love for you was unlike anything mortal — a dark and possessive force that lingered between obsession and protection. You, a mere human, were unaware of the affection that he had for you. Not for long though.

Deciding not to deny himself any further, Alucard moved. Without making a sound he plopped himself into your bed and pulled you into his arms, where you belong. He doesn't care if you wake up, far from this judging by the sly little smile that grows on his lips. Your head found its place in his chest, your warm breath almost tickling his neck.

He doesn't sleep. He doesn't need it but for a moment he closes his eyes. The blood pulsating on your veins being like a lullaby to him.

He always watched you from the shadows, his crimson gaze a constant companion, but his patience it's at its limit. You either doesn't notice his love for you or you are ignoring it, but he had enough of watching from afar and playing around, he gave you a choice. It was unspoken but you still had a chance for you to come forward and reciprocate his feelings before he take things on his own hands.

His love is not good for you, he know. And he knows he's going to ruin you but he doesn't care. What's matter it's that he has you, like a bunny snared in his trap and soon you be forever bound by his side. Not even his master could help you.

[railingsofsorrow]

Oh my god!! I need a second part of purple scarf asap. Honestly the best fic I’ve ever read YOU DID SO GOOD.

Maybe with a little smut? I loved it wow

Green-eyed monster

[spencer reid x reader]

A/N: heey, anon! I don't write smut sorry :( but there are some hints towards it? perhaps. I hope you like it and thank you for the kind words!

summary: a consultant on a case drives you mad. the team seems to know the reason why, all except for the man with an IQ of 187. or. . . in which this is the sequel for this. it can be read as a standalone though.

pairing: s.reid x f!reader

w.c: 3.1K

warnings/content: jealousy jealousy jealousy (if the title wasn't clear enough); some light female rivalry; discussions about possessiveness; teasing; making out; allusions to sexual content (nothing explicit) and a tiny hint towards bdsm? but you blink you miss it; also, rossi's got some jokes.

navi

masterpost

[requested]

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You don't lose patience quickly. You consider yourself to be a very patient person who is always questioning whether or not the situation was worthy over being stressed. It usually wasn't, so you'd take a deep breath and either fix the problem so it went away on its own or you faced it right away.

This time, you decided on the former. Because when someone keeps flirting with your boyfriend right in front of you — in a work environment nonetheless — while disrupting his personal space — really, what it is with people and not being aware of that minimum 0,5 inches gap? You do not need to be up on someone's face to have a simple conversation!

“Here.” A glass of water appears in your line of sight and you avert your attention from across the room to stare at it in confusion. Rossi is waiting expectantly beside you. “For you. You seem to need it since you keep on scoffing. Sore throat?”

That sassy Italian irony, huh?

You give him an eye roll as a response and he chuckled when you actually take the glass from his hold.

When Hotch called all of you over a case in your day-off, you didn't expect to grit your teeth as much as you were right now. You left your bed along with Spencer's warm body to go to the Bureau and have shameless flirting displayed in a public space. For godness sake.

“Agent Y/L/N.”

You really don't lose your cool over nothing.

But this isn't nothing.

Also, you do not consider yourself a jealous person, you see? But Agent Mayfield was pushing her luck.

“Yes, Agent Mayfield?” You replied in the same overly sweet tone she gave you. You're a profiler and you're damn good at your job, but it didn't need much to notice her aversion towards some people on the team, if not everyone. And you weren't the only who felt the same, given the not-so-subtly eyeroll from JJ.

The dirty blonde woman smiled at you. You didn't smile back. “You seem to have forgotten the files from—”

“It's on your desk.” You said shortly, turning back to the medical files you had to get through to find a pattern in the UnSub's M.O.

“I didn't see it.”

You hummed.

Well, of course not. If you hadn't been all over Doctor Reid than maybe you would have seen it.

“I just put it there, you can see it now.”

There was a pause, and then, “Thank you.”

“You're very welcome.”

There was a clear of throat and a soft chuckle around the briefing room but you didn't gave much thought to it. Until Derek made a comment.

“Slow down, Tiger.” He said, patting your shoulder before leaving the room with a laugh upon feeling your glare in his direction.

“Why do you need slowing down?”

You let out a long sigh. It wasn't Spencer's fault. That was completely out of the question, you knew he wasn't responding back to Agent Mayfield's flirting — he probably wasn't even aware of it, if you were honest — but the woman unnerved you 100%.

He placed your mug in front of you, the smell of coffee immediately reaching your nostrils and calming your senses. Maybe that's what your body were lacking and that's what it required to tune down your annoyance. Spencer was smiling at you and your forehead smoothed out. He's such an angel.

“Don't know,” You shrug, lifting the mug to your lips. Yes, not too sweet or watered-down. You give him a half smile in appreciation. “Derek is mad.”

“Doctor Reid, I need your input on something, do you mind?”

You refuse the scoff, looking at your side when you see Emily studying you. But someone else was inspecting your every move as well, you notice it when Spencer turns back to you after nodding in affirmation to Agent Mayfield.

“Is everything alright?” He questioned, warm fingers grazing your forearm warily. Of course Spencer knew something was off, he didn't have a major in psychology just because. He recognized your actions in a way you couldn't do it if you paid enough attention to yourself. Once, he made a comment about the supposedly meaning of when you licked your lips in different situations and you just stood there and listened, in complete bewilderment. He noticed a lot, to say the least. Not what's right under his nose, though.

“I'm good.” You shrug, grabbing one of the pictures in your messy circle of clues. You'd have to ask for Penelope's magic on this one. “You better go, duty awaits.” Your tone was extra chirpy and he just knew that was sarcasm. You know, Spencer Reid might be terrible with social cues, but he was familiar with everything that was related to you. And that edge in your voice made him slightly concerned.

Had he done something? He travels back to every single interaction from the two of you since you left his apartment — your apartment, too. You hadn't moved in (yet) but you did spend most of your time there. That place was just as yours as it was his, now. He loves saying that — but nothing out of ordinary comes to mind. You had breakfast, crawled back in the covers because it was supposed to be your day-off and intertwined your limbs for about one hour straight before Hotch made the call. You didn't look mad at him. You didn't sound mad at him when you left together, or on your way to work. Why did you sounded and looked mad now?

Fiddling distractedly with his scarf, he followed Agent Mayfield into her temporary office. She was a consultant in the newest case you were working on, Hotch brought her in because she had history with this kind of UnSub. Apparently, she went through a similar case back then.

Spencer got confused every time she asked him a question. Not that he minded, he loved to talk and loved when people seemed interested in what he had to say. But Mayfield was an expert in the area, she knew all of the questions she was asking him and he was aware that she knew because of her reaction. She was a nice person. Smiled a lot, too.

“What do you think, Doctor Reid? Am I in the right mindset?” He blinked away from the board where she had shown him a possible location the UnSub was hiding. The red dot stared at him as a sweet perfume unnerved his senses. Oh, she had gotten closer. Too close.

“Uh, yes. I believe so.” He frowned, taking a step back. She also didn't seem to get the meaning of boundaries because she stepped forward again. The smile quirking up a smirk. “Maybe—uh, maybe we should inform Hotch. Have you—”

“Doc,” She laughed, staring him up and down. “Are you afraid of me? Why do you keep waking back? I won't bite.”

“Okay,” Spencer deadpanned, swallowing hard. What was happening? He felt the table against his fingers and stopped moving back but Agent Mayfield kept on marching forward. “You—”

Tilting her head to the side, she raised a hand to touch the fabric around his neck, eyes traveling over it with curiosity and something else he couldn't translate when her blue orbs locked with his amber ones.

“Nice scarf you got there.” She purred, he could see her eyeshadow clearly form how close she was. It was starting to make him feel uncomfortable, the feeling of fight or flight arriving little by little as his hands gripped the table behind his back.

Spencer nodded nervously, “Thank you, my girlfriend gave it to me.” The air shifted as soon as he let the words out. Her movements freezing before they reached his neck. Thank god.

“Oh,” she muttered, sounding surprised and slightly disappointed “Your girlfriend?”

Spencer pulled the fabric away from her hold, taking advantage of her thoughtful stance to hop to the side and release himself from the cage she had locked him in. “Yes,” he said, adjusting his scarf around his neck. “She likes knitting.” Spencer didn't know why he said that, he didn't know a lot of things right now just that urge to flight the scene as if he was in imminent danger. “You got it all right. We should inform Hotch, this will help.” A tight-lipped smile was the last thing he sent her way before he fled the room.

When Hotch explains they're going to follow a new lead provided by Agent Mayfield, you are one of the first to reach for your bulletproof vest, until a hand curls around your shoulder.

“You're staying.” Hotch says, earning a look of disbelief from you. “You haven't been cleared for the field.” He gives you an unimpressed look which you know it means a warning if anything else.

“Hotch, it's been a month!”

“And you haven't been cleared, I need you and Garcia to work together.”

That's how everybody — but you — leaves for the newest location. The lead ends up being right and they find the man, you're in Penelope's office when they arrive back at the Bureau. It's around 10 p.m and you can't hold yourself back from yawning as you follow Penelope to meet your friends in the bullpen.

Emily's eyes glisten with something as she sees you come around the corner. She walks over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder as you gaze at her from the corner of your eye suspiciously. “You won't believe who made the arrest.” She whispers in your ear.

You let out a scoff, “I think I have a hunch.” You mumble, eyes scanning around the room unconsciously until you find what your heart always searched for on a daily basis. Your gazes find each other and you offer him a smile.

“I was waiting for you to punch her guts, to be honest. You disappointed me.”

“I'm being professional, Emily. Not that you can relate.”

Emily flicks your forehead, and you whine playfully. “Menace. Now go talk to your lover so he can stop with that puppy dog look. It's depressing.” Your mouth stretches into a grin and you offer her your tongue in a very mature say before leaving her side to cross the room.

“Hey,” you greet Spencer with a warm smile. “Are you ready to go home?”

“Are you mad at me?” He blurts out at the same time you spoke. Confusion drew your brows together.

“Why would I be mad at you, Spencer?”

“You were gritting your teeth and your shoulders were tense which means you seemed to be holding back to snap and upset about something.” He rambled out, clutching the strap of his go-back that he hasn't even put it down yet. “Your eyebrows, they do this thing where you lift one and scoff right after.” Oh, so he noticed that to? You weren't even aware of the eyebrow twitch yourself. You weren't even going to complain about his profiling, you were more concerned about the fact that you made him feel as if he had done something wrong. Which wasn't the case. “Did I do something?” His voice lowers when someone passes by you. You decide you were to public for you to discuss the topic so you pull his wrist towards the conference room.

You shut the door quietly and turn around to face your boyfriend that carries a slightly heartbreaking expression.

“Spencer.” you called out softly, leaning your hand towards his and intertwining your fingers as you pull him closer. He lets out a sighs in relief with the way you were reacting. She's not mad anymore, good. “I'm not mad.” The promise goes out in a whisper as your hands left his to wrap around his neck. The scarf is there, it's always there. Your fingers curl around it slowly and he's too busy burying his nose on the croak of your neck to pay attention to anything else.

He makes a sound of protest when you lean away but you proceed to shut him up by crashing your lips together. The immediate reaction is to enfold your waist with his hands, you can feel his warmth when your shirt raises exposing a bit of your skin.

A smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth as you wrap a hand around his neck to create a little space between you two. It's not harsh, you're barely applying pressure on the area, but it's the reason his pupils are dilated when he glances down at you.

“I'm not mad because I know that you know who you come home to every day.” The contrast between your honeyed tone and your stern gaze is palpable, Spencer walked that path before and he knows what it means. “Don't you, love?” He's not sure which of his responses is appropriate for a work environment so he simply swallowed hard and nodded.

You hum, smile turning into a soft grin. Your whole stance shifting when you peck his lips again, adjusting his sweater vest as if absolutely nothing had happened.

Like an investigation board, every clue seems to click in his mind. The code arrives to his brain and the information was so clear that it must have looked like he ignored the signs because it was convenient.

You're jealous.

And Spencer must say, it looks quite good on you.

Before you leave the conference room you had come to hide in for a few minutes, he stops you from sliding out the room by hooking two of his fingers to the waistband of your pants and bringing you back to him. He unwraps the scarf around his neck to involve it around yours. It's not an unfamiliar action, he's done it a few times through the course of your relationship. It's something that he enjoys doing, truth be told. Except that, in a room filled with profilers, it conveys a whole other meaning. Although he just needs it to be conveyed to one person.

There's a six feet distance within you when you step back into the bullpen. Most of the people have dissipated, only your inner circle left, except from Rossi, he went home already.

Oh, and Agent Mayfield was saying goodbye to everyone as well. You had to hold back the eyeroll as she approached you. You could see JJ from above Mayfield's shoulder, cracking up beside Penelope, who was asking her to be quiet. The entire FBI building seemed to quiet down for a minute.

“Agent Y/L/N,” she gave you that fake sweet smile, showing off her teeth as she offered a hand for you to shake. You really thought about ignoring it or in throwing out the number of pathogens passed during a handshake to avoid doing it — like your precious boyfriend usually did. “A pleasure working with you. I hope the opportunity comes another time.”

You shake her hand, despite your inner protests. However, every action has its consequences, right? That's why something akin to pride bursts through your chest when her attention freezes on your neck. It's good, it's really good to see Agent Mayfield clears her throat and walk out of the room as if the best team of profilers weren't scrutinizing her every move.

“Oh, my god.” Emily mumbles, rolling her shoulders back with a groan. The atmosphere had switched from tense to a much more relaxed environment. “That was brutal.”

“I know what was brutal.” Derek kicked Spencer's chin, to which the younger replied with a frown. “The rejection you gave her. And that,” he points at you, shaking his head playfully as he throws the strap of his bad around his shoulder. “That's just possessiveness, princess.”

“Yeah, I don't know which one of you is worse, to be honest.” JJ raises her hands and turns back to grab her stuff.

Shrugging with an innocent expression, you say, “I've no idea what you're on about.” Penelope makes a joke and Hotch bids everyone goodbye because he'll try to see Jack before he falls asleep.

The parking lot is dark and the wind travels fast to bring you a cold breeze. When you reach your car, you notice the key is on your bag, that Spencer was currently carrying. Before you ask, a kiss is pressed against your temple and you're being pushed to the opposite side.

“I'm driving.” He clarifies when you look back at him with a puzzled gaze.

“You hate driving.” You say, putting your seatbelt on. “... particularly at night.”

“I don't hate it. It's just not my favourite thing to do, besides...” He gives you a pointed look after turning on the engine. “You're tired.”

“I'm not,” you replied stubbornly, but complains nothing else. You are tired. Despite not going to the field like everyone else, being on the office was just as much work.

Silence fills the car in its comfortable form. You're lulled to sleep with Spencer's harsh breaks and his soft humming to a pop song on the radio. He gently wakes you up when you've arrived in his place.

As you're fluttering your eyes open, you know the peace is about to be disturbed by the smug look in his pretty face. “Possessiveness, uh?” He murmurs, laugh echoing when you slap his arm as your face heats up. You have no idea what took over you a few moments ago. Well, you do know. But you weren't about to give in to him that easily. “You know you're the only one, right? I don't have eyes for anyone else.”

The truth slipping out of his tongue is completely unnecessary, but welcomed. Reassurance is important, even if you trusted Spencer in the tip of a cliff with eyes closed.

“I know.” You say, smiling when he leans into your palm. Drawing invisible patterns in his cheek, you pull him closer to close your gap. This time, the kiss doesn't carry anything other than tenderness.

Now it's his turn to grips the scarf, he holds both ends, tugging you impossibly closer. “And you,” he stares down at your lips, teasingly. “... you are who I'll always want to come home to. No doubt in that. Understood?”

You let out a hum in contentment while kissing him as an answer. One hundred percent understood.

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taglist: @lilyviolets

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[dvrk-moon]

EAT ME UP - JAKE SIM

— synopsis: in which jake knows you’re bad for him, but he just can’t help himself. after all, in the end, the answer is always you. nobody else matters. not even the guy you’re seeing, his friend, sunghoon.

— word count: 20.1k

— warnings: cursing, cheating, sexual relationships, mental health problems, alcohol problems, no smut but things can get heated, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

— featuring: sunghoon, heeseung, jay, aespa ningning, a bit of riize wonbin, mentions of zb1 matthew, girl named ella (fictional)

— genre: fwb, angst, bits of fluff, unrequited love, jake x fem!reader x sunghoon

— playlist: sex - eden, fever - enhypen, bad idea right? - olivia rodrigo, why’d you only call me when you’re high? - arctic monkeys, cologne - beabadoobee, heartbeat - childish gambino

— a/n: this is 100% fiction i don’t think jake is/would be a cheater. this was a monster to complete im just glad it’s over with lol

— taglist: @yyawnjun @lovingvoidgoatee @capri-cuntz

i. HOW DARE YOU, BABY

Sweat formed on your forehead as condensation dripped down your cup. The heat of 30 bodies all condensed into a two bedroom house located just off of campus wasn’t anything new— yet this time it felt almost suffocating. The sequins on your red dress scratched against your skin while you lazily danced to the loud music blasting through the house. It was a Friday night. You had to let all your stress from the week out somehow.

As you went to take another drink from the red solo cup in your left hand, your lips were met with only small remnants of the drink you had poured for yourself earlier. You looked into the cup to find nothing remaining. Rolling your eyes, you made sure to motion to your friend, Ningning, that you’d be headed to the kitchen to get yourself another drink. She nodded at you as you walked away.

Ningning wasn’t someone you could consider yourself best friends with. You didn’t have those. However, she was good for coming to parties with; she knew who to talk to and what to say. You always wanted to be closer to the girl, craving an actual bond between you two rather than just a party buddy. She gave good advice, let you stay over at her apartment multiple times, and seemed to actually care for you, even if you weren’t an open book. There had been times in which you’d almost let her in. 

But it never actually happened. Deep down, you knew it’d probably be no good for you anyways.

Strands of hair stuck to the sweat on your forehead as you weaved your way through unfamiliar faces. The noise usually was a comfort for you; more talking from other people meant less listening to your own thoughts. 

The surrounding music and conversations became a blur as you stumbled your way through a hallway that led to the kitchen on the left hand side. As you walked through the doorway, the noises became slightly more quiet.

You put some distance between the entrance to the room and yourself, finding a corner which was relatively empty and hoisting yourself onto the cool countertop. The second your thighs felt the chilliness of the spot, you let out a deep sigh. You glanced around the room for any familiar faces, but you were slightly too intoxicated to really make out anyone relevant. You rested your head against the wall for a few seconds before leaving your spot and walking up to the “bartender” who was manning the makeshift “bar”. He was someone you’d seen in passing a couple times off campus. You couldn’t remember his name, and you weren’t sure if it was because you were drunk or not.

“Hey again,” he smiled at you. This was probably your eighth drink of the night, and even though Ningning nagged on you about your lack of self control when it came to drinking, you always brushed her off. How would she know what’s good for you, anyways?

You looked at him with a half-assed smile before propping your elbows onto the top of the makeshift bar, “Heyyy..” you drawled out, with a hint of flirting in your tone. 

“Back so soon?” He inquired, grabbing some alcoholic drinks from underneath the “bar”. He ran a hand through his raven-colored hair before looking back up at you, “I swore I just saw you ten minutes ago.”

He was a really good-looking guy. You gave him a flirtatious look, “Oh, you know me. Couldn’t stay away for too long.” 

That was a lie. You knew that as the night started, you’d tell yourself “only one drink, to loosen up my mind”. But that never stuck around. You’d get another drink soon after, and as the night went on, there would be less time between each drink. You lost count of what number drink you were on a bit ago.

“You flatter me. It’s a shame, we never exchange much outside of parties. I’ve never met anyone as forward as you,” he laughed, then asking, “same thing as last time?”

You paused. You couldn’t remember what you got last time, and it was only ten minutes ago. Maybe this was your sign to stop for the night.

“Vodka tonic.”

The man nodded swiftly then turned around to make you your drink. Within moments, the drink was ready. You didn’t fail to notice how his hand brushed yours for longer than you expected while he handed you your drink.

“Don’t get sick, sweetheart.”

You playfully rolled your eyes as you got up from your spot, not failing to give the cute bartender a flirty wave as you headed back towards the entranceway to the room.

Before stepping out, you decided that you needed to just drink all of what was just given to you. The clock on the microwave had read 1:08 AM. You had nothing going on later today anyways. You may as well.

“Bottoms up,” you whispered before drinking the whole cup. 

Stepping back into the haze of the crowd, you felt a new wave of warmth through your body, and this time it wasn’t the claustrophobic feeling of being in a group of unfamiliar faces. The alcohol quickly dispersed through your veins and you found yourself back where you’d last seen Ningning. 

She was with a new crowd of people, but she hadn’t left her previous spot. You didn’t recognize a single face of the people who she was with, but as soon as you began to back away to find anyone else, she noticed you from the corner of her eye and introduced you to the group of people.

“Y/N! There you are,” she grabbed your arm and pulled you towards the group of people that she’d found, “guys, this is Y/N, Y/N, these are my friends from my journalism class.”

You were too busy not paying attention to engage in whoever was supposed to be filling the void of conversation. The vodka tonic was still working its magic, so in a quick moment, you were slipping away from the group and telling Ningning something along the lines of “I’ll see you later”. She gave you a confused look but didn’t push.

You found yourself down that same hallway as earlier, but this time you decided to take a right, which led you to a set of stairs. You usually weren’t one for snooping, but what’s wrong with poking around people’s houses every once in a while?

It was eerily quiet as you made your way up the stairs, the ambiance from the party dwindling down with every step you took upwards. At the landing, there was a hallway and three rooms: two bedrooms and one bathroom. 

The hallway was narrow and dark; clearly, the host(s) had no intent of guests going up here. The bedroom at the end of the hallway was shut, and you were 99% sure that it was occupied by two random strangers hooking up. You couldn’t be too hateful, though, because you were also notorious for leaving parties with men you barely knew. Tonight, you weren’t sure if that was a goal you had in mind.

Next to the shut-doored bedroom, there was an unoccupied bathroom. You were surprised that you weren’t currently in there, hurling up every drink you downed tonight.

You finally brought your gaze to the room directly in front of you- it was the last bed room. The door was wide open and the lights were off, but there was a large window with its curtains drawn open despite the time of night. The window gave you a perspective of how late it was; even if the room was not lit by any electric lights, the moonlight was bright enough for you to make out a few items in the room.

Despite you telling yourself not to, you were so drawn in by the window that you ended up venturing into the room. You didn’t bother flipping on any light switches or anything, it would just be a quick peek anyways. 

You wandered around the room a bit, taking note of a messy bed, an old desk, and a body-length mirror. You stopped in front of the mirror for a second to look at yourself. Your makeup was surprisingly still intact given how sweaty you had been the whole night, and your dress had something stained on the bottom of it. Someone probably spilled some drink on it and you had already forgotten.

Shaking your head, you headed to the window next. It was a window seat. You welcomed yourself into the center spot. 

The window had a direct view of the backyard. It was a cold, gloomy night, so there was a lack of presence outside of the house. You pressed your burning cheek against the cool glass and brought your opposite hand to your forehead, cursing yourself. The rush from your last drink was already wearing off. You needed another drink.

You begrudgingly hoisted yourself up from your spot and stood. The doorway looked less enticing with every step. As you walked closer to the door, you caught sight of a figure coming up the steps. You wouldn’t have enough time to leave the room without being caught for snooping. As shit as this party was, you didn’t want to get kicked out.

You did the next best thing and you crouched down right next to the bed, out of sight of the doorway.

The figure quickly entered the room and shut the door quietly before sitting at the foot of the bed, facing the window. If this person turned their head slightly to the left, you’d be spotted. You held your breath.

The person got up and walked to the window seat, not yet sitting down. You got a good look at them, as their face was lit up by the moonlight.

He was around your age, donned in a pair of black cargo pants and a white hoodie. You’d never seen him before. He had a certain curious nature about him, not only because he was unknown to you, but because he was someone was just as passive as you were at this party.

The man let out an exasperated sigh, eyes not once leaving the nighttime view. He took off his sweatshirt to reveal a plain black T-shirt, it hugging his figure nicely as he tossed his sweatshirt just somewhere else in the room. You watched the sweatshirt land with a thud before you brought your attention back to the man, who was now opening the window to let in a cold breeze.

He let in a deep breath before turning his head towards the empty room, or to what he thought was an empty room.

When he’d opened the window, it’d let more moonlight spill into the room, revealing you from your not-so-secret hiding spot. Once he laid his eyes on you, you both looked like a deer in headlights.

“Hello?” He asked, confused.

You cleared your throat, “Hi. I swear I wasn’t stalking you.” You picked yourself up off of the floor, and sent him an awkward look.

“Wait, you don’t need to leave.”

You thought about it before deciding to either leave and go get another drink, or stay and talk to the stranger. You didn’t need another drink. You knew your body could only take so many more until you’d be unable to be conscious of anything. Plus, you always met new men at these parties, and usually ended up leaving with them. What’s the harm in getting to know a stranger rather than having just a one night stand with them?

You sat yourself down on the bed, facing the stranger. A moment of silence ensued before it was broken by him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before.”

You nodded, meeting his gaze, “Yeah, me neither. My name is Y/N.”

“Jake,” he returned, positioning himself so he could see you better, “what brings you up here?”

You quickly became defensive, “I usually don’t go and snoop around at parties if that’s what you’re insinuating-”

“No, no, no! That’s- that’s not at all what I meant,” Jake started, straightening himself, “It’s just that when I take a break from a large group of people, I don’t usually expect to find someone else off where I usually hide.”

You gave him an odd look, “Why do you go to parties if you only go hide, then?” You ran your fingers through a section of your hair, keeping your front strong.

“I like parties, don’t get me wrong,” he begins, getting up from the window seat. He closes and locks the window as he continues, “it’s just that sometimes, when I’m dragged to them against my own will, they lose any sort of fun that they have. May I?” He had made his way to the spot next to you on the bed, not yet sitting down because he wanted to test the waters first. You nodded, scooting over to make room for him. He sat down next to you, using both of his hands to lean on rather than sitting normally.

“I understand. I was just up here for that same reason, I guess. Not really,” you admitted, shrugging and then turning to the boy next to you, propping your hand on the bed towards him.

The amount of moonlight in the room had been lessened due to the fact that Jake closed the window, but his features will still well illustrated. He had big, wondrous eyes, and a full set of lips. His hair was long and unkempt- obviously messy from the heat of the party. You felt overdressed for the occasion in his presence, yet in a sense you still had enough pride to wear your skimpy dress even in the cold months of winter. You didn’t fail to notice how his eyes lingered on your lips as you studied him.

Lifting his gaze from your lips back to your eyes, he slowly responded, “Yeah. I know how you feel.”

You licked your lips before leaning in slightly closer to him, “Do you?” His eyes fell back down to your lips as you slightly held a pout after you asked him the taunting question. He let out a shaky sigh as the distance between you two decreased, and you felt his hot breath on your lips.

Jake had brought one of his hands towards your almost-exposed thigh and hovered over it until you took your own hand and placed his right on your thigh. Almost immediately, you grabbed his face and pulled him in for a kiss.

The kiss was hot, messy, and desperate. Jake repositioned himself so he could hold your waist, and you took the opportunity to move your hands to the nape of his neck. He tasted like alcohol, as did all of your hookups. You knew he was bound to be one the second he sat on the bed, but you didn’t mind. You welcomed him with open arms (and legs).

It was intoxicating. Alcohol aside, you felt a strange new feeling bubble in your chest while the two of you were kissing. You pulled him even closer, signaling that you wanted more.

He moved his hand from your thigh to your ass, grabbing it, which caused you to groan into his mouth, only egging him on further.

Moments later, a knock came from the bedroom door, separating you two. He motioned for you to hide on the floor next to the bed (ironically the exact spot he had found you in earlier) while he went to open the door.

He half-heartedly fixed his hair that you’d somehow made worse from when you first found him, straightened his clothes, and opened the door.

“Matthew? What’s up, man?” He greeted. It sounded like the two knew each other.

“Hey, Jake. I just wanted to come in here and make sure no one was getting busy on my bed, because the door was shut. I was mad worried, y’know?” ‘Matthew’ laughed air-headedly, Jake joining in.

“Yeah, I get it. But nah, nothing going on up here! I just needed a break from the noise, you know me,” Jake sent back, to which Matthew laughed and said, “Yeah man, it’s chill. Keep my room safe, okay?”

The two men did some sort of handshake before Jake closed the door again. 

He wasted no time in closing the distance between you two again, asking, “Where were we?”

You slightly pushed him away, giving him a flirty look before crossing your way to the door, “We should probably leave.” You went to open the door, but Jake caught your wrist.

“Are you leaving? Like, the party?” He asked as nonchalantly as possible, but you could hear the desperation seeping through his words. You nodded, finally opening the door for the two of you.

“Oh, okay, cool. See you around, then?” Jake asked as you began descending the steps. You stopped in your tracks and turned around to meet his gaze, “What? Do you think you’re going to stay here? I thought that we had something to finish.”

Jake quickly got the hint as he stumbled (semi-awkwardly) down the steps towards you, following you as you went to find Ningning to tell her you were leaving with a boy. 

You found her figure quickly, still drinking and still surrounded by the group you had last seen her with. When you tapped her shoulder, she quickly whipped around to find you and give you a smile. When she saw Jake, an indecipherable look plastered its way onto her face before she returned her gaze to you and gave you a hug. After the embrace, she whispered, “Be safe. Text me if you need me.”

You gave her a reassuring smile before grabbing Jake’s hand and leading him to the door of the house.

ii. HOURS LIKE MINUTES

That wasn’t the last time you and Jake ended up hooking up, in fact you had seen each other on the regular about a month or so into the endeavor. 

You wanted to say that you knew who Jake was, but that would be a lie. You didn’t know much about him past his name and where he lived, and to be frank, you didn’t really care to. Sure, he was one of the more fun hookups, but after all, he was just a hookup. Nothing more. You assumed he felt the same way. You were terribly mistaken.

A couple months ago, a day or two after your most recent hookup, Jake had told you he wanted to talk to you. You agreed, figuring it was a harmless conversation that needed to be had, about scheduling or him being out of town for a bit.

When you arrived at his house on that fateful day, he greeted you at the front door, looking more cheerful than he usually was when he saw you. You walked in his apartment to find it empty, as usual, and he led you to the couch. 

It started off casual and harmless. You had mentioned wanting to watch a certain movie in passing once, and he had rented it so you could watch it together. You assumed it would be a classic “movie and chill” moment with him. You’d done it before, you wouldn’t be surprised if it were to happen again.

However, as the movie progressed, neither of you had made any advances, which was odd for the two of you. 

Thirty minutes in, nothing.

An hour in, nothing

An hour and a half in, nothing.

Finally, the movie eventually came to an end and still, as expected, nothing had happened.

As the credits rolled, Jake muted the TV and turned to you, “So…? What’d you think?”

You sat there and looked at him. For a good thirty seconds, at that. Saying nothing. Just looking. Jake began to look uneasy, gulping and asking, “Was it worth the watch?”

You finally answered him, “It was good, I guess. Nothing special.”

He looked slightly deflated but still kept up a happy demeanor, “Cool, cool. I thought so too.”

A silence consumed you two as you just looked at him. He was fidgeting, looking anywhere in the room but at you. You’d never seen him this blatantly nervous before, albeit most of the times you’d seen him, you were both intoxicated to some degree. 

“Well,” you started, rising from your spot, “I guess I’ll get going then.”

Jake immediately rose from his spot, surprising you. He seemed anxious, quickly saying, “Why? Do you have somewhere to be?”

“No,” you told him, still gathering your things. You didn’t care if this hurt his feelings, you guys were fuck-buddies and nothing else. There was no time or room for any sort of relationship, nor any activities that could even barely resemble a date.

“Oh… then why are you leaving so soon?”

You stopped packing up the bag you brought over and stared at him before responding, “Jake, you asked me to come over to talk about something with you, and I get here, and what do you do? Put on some damn movie. Well, the movie’s over now, and you still look like you have no intent of even bringing up what you supposedly called me over to talk about. So I’m leaving.”

Jake walked over to you quickly and grabbed your wrist. Out of habit, you pulled it away, telling him that you weren’t in the mood.

“Listen, Y/N. Will you please just sit down and hear me out for like ten minutes?” He pleaded, and when you met his gaze, you sighed but gave in, “Fine. Ten minutes, and then I’m leaving.”

He motioned for you to sit back down, and once you did he followed suit. 

“Y/N,” Jake started. The way he said your name sent chills down your spine. You had never heard him use a voice so serious, not even during sex. No matter how his voice made you feel, though, you made sure to keep a blank face as you listened to him.

“I probably shouldn’t even be doing this, to be honest. But, here goes nothing, I guess. Y/N, I don’t know at what exact point that this happened, but I developed feelings for you. Like genuine feelings. At some point, I stopped caring about the sex and it eventually just started to grow into excitement to see you, make you laugh, or even see you in passing.”

Seeing as you didn’t respond, he continued.

“Those talks we have before and after we hookup are some of my favorite moments. You’re so beautiful, and every single thing you do sends me into a slight spiral because I wonder how I was so lucky to even get a chance to be around you. I don’t even know all that much about you, Y/N, but the fact that we only see each other to hookup drives me crazy. I know this is a lot, but I’m just asking you to please, please give me a chance.”

His face was bright red, and yours had stayed unfaltering. You weren’t stupid, you had some idea of how Jake felt for you, but you never wanted to feed into it. You knew you never saw him that way, and you were hoping he would just never acknowledge it so you could stay the way you two were.

Fate never liked to work out for you, though.

You cleared your throat before grabbing his hand and looking him in the eye, “Jake. You’re a sweet guy, and hooking up with you has been super fun. But I’ve told you before, I don’t really do relationships. And, if I’m being honest with you, I really don’t feel that way towards you.”

He looked as if he was a little boy and you’d just purposefully popped his favorite balloon.

Alas, you continued, “You’re a great guy. But I don’t see you that way. Plus, I’ve told you before- I can’t keep hooking up with people if there’s feelings involved.”

He gulped again. This time, instead of nervousness, he looked like he was swallowing back tears.

“I think it’d be best if we stopped seeing each other.”

You finally dropped the bomb on him, giving his hand one squeeze before dropping it. You grabbed your bag from the couch and slipped on your shoes, making your way out of his apartment. You didn’t have to look back at him to know he was upset.

That day was around four months ago now. Ever since that day, you hadn’t seen Jake, and had no intentions of seeing him.

It didn’t matter what he was up to anyways, you’d been seeing this new guy, Park Sunghoon, from your accounting class. You met a month or two ago after being partnered up for a project with two other people. Any time the group made plans to work on the project together, the other two people always made up some random excuse as to why they wouldn’t be there, so you and Sunghoon became close in a short time period.

Sunghoon was different from a lot of guys that you’d met. He was quiet, introverted, and majorly unreadable. He was an extremely popular guy, but he never let it get to his head. Sunghoon never just talked to talk, he always had something to say that was worth some sort of meaning. He was unbelievably attractive, too, so of course you two hooked up very early on. But what drew you in the most about Sunghoon was that he wasn’t like all your other fuck-buddies. 

For one, you and Sunghoon had established a somewhat friendship before hooking up the first time, rather than just blindly meeting each other while fucked up at a party. Sunghoon wasn’t like the other guys.

Another reason he was different was because he knew his boundaries. He and you both knew when to stop, when to make sure you were treading the line between friends-with-benefits to having feelings, and how to leave you alone just enough to have you feeling the same lust every time you hooked up. Sunghoon wasn’t Jake. Jake never knew boundaries. He was blind and stupid. Sunghoon knew better.

You and Sunghoon had been seeing each other for some time now, but had never actually been to an outing together. You’d met some of his friends; you were quite familiar with Heeseung. He and Ningning had been dating for about a month now, after going back and forth with each other for weeks on end prior to them getting together.

You were supposed to all have met at Heeseung and Sunghoon’s shared apartment at 6:30 PM, and you and Ningning had just arrived at 6:17 PM. She picked you up in her new car, offering to let you be the first person you drove in it. You took her up on the offer, and were even able to make it early to the apartment, which you were grateful for.

As you two unloaded yourselves from her car, you were met with a text from Sunghoon:

sunghoon 💨☺️ : hey are u guys oyw

You quickly sent him one back:

you : yeah

you : walking up to ur apartment’s entrance rn actually 

Within a few seconds, you and Ningning were met with the sight of Heeseung. The boy’s apartment was on the third floor, and he had bounded all the way down the steps to meet you guys at the bottom landing. 

“Hello,” Ningning offered, grabbing her boyfriend’s hand. He said nothing back as he took the two of you upstairs to the apartment, the door already open. 

The next time you peeked at the clock was when you entered the doorway, and it read 6:22 PM. At the sound of you entering, Sunghoon left his bedroom and found you in the living room.

“You’re here early,” he teased, holding you from behind.

“You’re so touchy,” you craned your neck to look at him and found him already smiling at you.

“What, am I not allowed to be touchy with you? You of all people-” you elbowed him lightly to get him to shut up before turning around in his grasp, “I never said I didn’t like it.”

Sunghoon ruffled your hair before returning to his room. It seemed like Heeseung and Ningning had also retreated to his room for the time being, so you followed Sunghoon into his room.

When you walked in, he was putting some papers away into a desk, so you took the opportunity to immediately flop onto his bed. You weren’t worried about how your hair would look. You were only with Sunghoon, and you knew he had a comb laying around here somewhere. 

He quickly made his way to his bed, leaning over you, “You look nice.”

“Thanks, I try.”

He sat down next to your figure and soon also flopped back. You wasted no time in turning towards him and messing with his hair, his ears, any part of his face that was accessible at the moment. Sunghoon kept swiping your hands away, soon getting tired of your antics and grabbing your wrists so you would stop. He evilly smiled at you, getting up so he could pin your hands down to the bed. 

Suddenly, their doorbell buzzed. Sunghoon groaned as he got up from your playful wrestling match and told you to comb your hair before yelling, “Coming!”

You sat up and patted most of your hair down, but got up anyways to find the comb.

“I don’t need to comb my hair,” you mumbled as you took a look at yourself in the mirror. As you turned to look at the back of your hair, though, you sighed in defeat, “okay, never mind, I do.”

You started looking for the comb near his bed, and then his dresser, then near his desk, and you even peeked in his closet. It was nowhere to be found.

Maybe he hadn’t left it in his room? It was probably in the bathroom, which was all the way across the apartment. It was a bother to go get it, but you needed it. You grabbed your phone and small handbag that you’d brought to his room and ventured out into the apartment. From down the hallway, it sounded like the boys and Ningning had let in whoever else was joining you tonight, so even if you went to go get the comb, you’d need to meet them at some point anyways. May as well be now rather than never.

As you made your way into the living room, you saw the figures of Sunghoon, Heeseung, Ningning, and three other people. The three had their backs faced to you, so you couldn’t exactly tell who they were or what they looked like. Your entrance grabbed the attention of everyone, and you waved to the unfamiliar faces that you could see. 

One of them was a boy, you couldn’t remember his name, but you knew you’d seen his face in pictures before. He was Sunghoon’s childhood friend or something along those lines. You would probably be better off not knowing his childhood friend’s name. Sure, Sunghoon was fun to mess around with, but you had to make sure neither of you treaded too closely to the “catching feelings” line.

The other girl looked around your age, maybe a year younger. She was extremely pretty and had a beautiful smile. Her hair was long, black, and it cascaded down her back like a waterfall. You hated to admit it, but you were slightly envious of her. It didn’t matter, though, because you really had no interpersonal relationship. She was just some girl who you’d probably never see again.

The second you caught sight of the third figure, you felt your heart slightly drop. As soon as you made eye contact, you made a point to walk as quickly to the bathroom as you could. Suddenly you really needed that comb.

You trapped yourself in the bathroom for a minute or two, letting every thought you had ram into you like a freight train. You didn’t care that Sunghoon brought friends over. This wasn’t the first time you’d met some friends of his, and it wouldn’t be the last. You didn’t even care that out of all people, Jake was there. You didn’t ever see him that way, and seeing him tonight, after months, definitely wouldn’t change anything.

What you did mind, however, was that Jake and Sunghoon knew each other. Or, even worse, they were friends. You had every intention of never seeing Jake again after you cut things off, and majorly, until today, you were successful. And of course, against all odds, he was going out with you all tonight.

To be frank, you weren’t terrified of the idea of Jake returning to your life; he was a nice guy. You didn’t mind having him around as a “friend” back when you did regularly see him, but it was what went beyond that that drove you away. You were sure he wasn’t too thrilled to see you either.

It would be fine, though. As long as you both ignored what happened in the past, everything would blow over just fine. Plus, there was a chance that the unfamiliar girl was with him. It would be good for the both of you if he had moved on.

Moments later, you were met with a knock on the door, followed by Sunghoon saying, “Everything okay?”

You unlocked the bathroom door and peeped your face through the crack, “All good. Just, uh, can’t find the comb.”

“Hey, it’s okay, I have a spare,” he tried to open the door, but you wouldn’t budge.

“Please let me in my own bathroom.”

This time you complied, shutting the door again after he entered, and he opened up the cabinet above the toilet to find his extra comb. Once located, he handed it over to you, watching you as you combed your hair in the mirror. He started, “All ready?”

You begrudgingly nodded and he exited the bathroom with you trailing behind.

Sunghoon led to you the group that was all now sitting on the couch and chairs surrounding his and Heeseung’s living room coffee table. You scanned the living area for a seat, noting that the only one available was on the other side of Jake. That idea was immediately scrapped. Once you stood next to Sunghoon, he introduced you to the group.

“Everybody, this is Y/N. Y/N, that’s Jay,” he pointed to the familiar boy from the pictures, “that’s Ella,” he motioned to the beautiful girl next to Jay, “and that’s Jake. Ella’s boyfriend.”

You nodded and waved slowly at the new faces, making sure not to pay any mind to Jake at all. It didn’t matter if this action hurt his feelings, he had a girlfriend now. He could go cry to her about it.

“Hi,” you started, “nice to meet you all.”

You finally decided to make eye contact with Jake after saying this, even if it wasn’t nice to meet him again. At least not in this situation. Immediately after locking eyes with you, Jake put his arm around Ella’s shoulder.

Heeseung was the next person to speak:

“Who wants some alcohol?”

The tension around the group began to dissipate when Heeseung got up to get the drinks, leaving his spot next to Ningning open. As you commandeered his spot, Sunghoon trailed behind you to stand behind the couch. He seemed to do that a lot. 

You looked up at Sunghoon, saying, “Someone should probably help Heeseung with the drinks.”

He nodded, and Jay also quickly stood up to join the other two in the kitchen.

This left you, Ningning, and Ella. And Jake. 

The couple quickly engaged in their own conversation before Ningning was able to elbow you in the side and whisper in your ear, “Didn’t you used to hook up with him?!”

You nodded briefly, widening your eyes quickly at the situation. She sent you a sympathetic smile and put her hand on your knee. In the past few months, you’d let yourself become closer with Ningning, which was a blessing for you. Even if you weren’t all that close, you still had her as a friend. It definitely helped that her boyfriend’s roommate was the guy you were seeing.

In a quick moment, Jake also stood up and went to the kitchen to help with drinks. In a sense, you kind of missed him. Sure, you didn’t miss his clingy nature, or the fact that he was the reason that you two fell apart, but he really was a good guy. Of course, there were times when you also missed having him in bed with you.

Ella looked nervous and adjusted her dress — a blue dress — before giving you and Ningning an awkward smile. You doubt she knew about you and Jake, and was probably just an anxious person. Even if she did know, though, it didn’t matter. Because what you and Jake had was in the past.

Ningning broke the silence first, “So, Ella, you and Jake? How’s that going?”

She smiled. God, she was absolutely stunning. You knew your own self value, but she was something else. She looked like the type of girl that beautiful poetry was written about. The blue dress she wore complimented her skin tone and brought out her best features. You had to give it to her, she really knew how to dress to the nines.

“It’s great,” she fawned, taking a peek over at his figure in the kitchen, “we’ve been dating for a couple months now, and he’s just so great.”

“Wow,” Ningning replied, “I’m happy for you guys!”

You nodded, adding, “How’d you two meet?”

“We were at the same party and Jay set us up,” she laughed, “I remember Jay telling me in our physics class that his ‘friend needed a new slate for dating’ and how he knew I was single, so he set us up at a party! I’m really happy he did, too.”

The new slate for dating of course meant you. You had forgotten about Jay and Jake sharing an apartment together, and obviously because of that, Jay knew who you were and what you did to Jake. More like what had happened, but you cursed yourself for forgetting that Jay was someone that knew both Jake and Sunghoon.

“Well, congrats!” Ningning smiled back at her, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Ella had turned her back on you two to watch the boys make drinks again, and in that moment, Ningning gave you the biggest “what the fuck??” look you’d ever seen in your life. You simply shrugged in return.

Not long after, the boys returned with drinks, ready for you all to pregame for the night ahead of you. You opted to just do straight Vodka shots with orange juice as a chaser to get yourself going. You watched Sunghoon take a few shots of Fireball before smiling at you and grabbing at your ears. That was a little habit you two had started doing: grabbing each other’s ears to mess with the other. You kind of realized that it could come off as a bit flirty, so you tried to hold back on doing it often, but sometimes it came to you like a second nature.

“Stop touching me,” you whined at him, swatting his hands off your ears. 

“I can’t help it,” he cooed at you, “you just look so cute.”

Here it comes, flirty Sunghoon. It didn’t take very long for him to become tipsy, and when he did, he’d become a flirt. It was flattering, but when you were trying to get sloshed and you had him following you around like a dog, it could become extremely annoying.

You didn’t miss how Jake was watching you and Sunghoon’s interaction, even with Ella sitting right next to him.

Eventually, once everyone had finished pregaming, the Ubers to take you seven to the club had arrived at the apartment. You started grabbing your handbag and as you went to grab your phone, you realized you’d accidentally left it in the bathroom.

“Don’t wait up for me, I’ll just be a second,” you said to Sunghoon and Ningning as you walked to the bathroom to get your phone. The two listened, so once you returned to the living space, you noticed that the only three people left in the apartment were, including you, Jake and Heeseung.

You made a beeline for the door, but Jake was quickly on your heels. Heeseung stayed back to lock up the apartment.

As you descended the steps attempting to avoid Jake, you failed, as he caught up to you and started a conversation, “Hi.”

“Hey,” you replied half-heartedly. Either Jake couldn’t tell that you didn’t want to talk or he simply didn’t care, because he continued:

“So you and Sunghoon, huh?”

He sounded a bit hurt, but you weren’t going to feed into it. You promptly replied, “Yep. You have a girlfriend now, isn’t that crazy? How the times change.”

Jake nodded awkwardly, gulping, and then starting again, “Yeah, she’s cool. She’s not you though.”

You shook your head at him. It was unbelievable how much audacity he had to say that. Especially on the first day of seeing each other again. You cut him off for a reason, you reminded yourself.

“Yep.”

You ended the conversation there as you exited the apartment building, finding Sunghoon on the sidewalk. He gave you a confused look.

“Do you guys know each other?”

You pondered for a second before replying:

“Something like that.”

iii. LIKE A CRIMINAL

Exactly one day later, you found yourself at Sunghoon and Heeseung’s apartment, looking for your fling. You two had made plans to go drive out to see some of your mutual friends, and he was going to meet you at his place, but you had beaten him there.

He had told you where the hidden key was located, because you were notorious for showing up unannounced, and especially in this occasion he trusted you to house sit. Plus, you had expected him to be home in about ten minutes, like he’d texted you.

What you didn’t expect was to see Jake lying on the couch when you walked in. His head immediately shot up when he heard you enter. You gave him an extremely confused look before saying, “I’m just gonna go to Sunghoon’s room and wait for him to get here.”

You sped past him yet heard him say, “Wait, Y/N!”

You paid him no mind as you situated yourself on Sunghoon’s bed, lying down and pulling out your phone to text him:

you : i broke in again 

Within moments, he replied:

sunghoon 💨☺️ : not surprised

sunghoon 💨☺️ : there’s a car accident but im on my way

sunghoon 💨☺️ : it’s looking like it’ll still be 10 mins though i will be speedy for u

you : my hero! 😮😮

You put your phone down and you were met with the sight of Jake standing in Sunghoon’s doorway. As if on cue, you sighed. It’d been a whole one day since you saw him last and he couldn’t leave you alone. It was like your own personal Hell.

You couldn’t deny that he looked really good though. 

Jake approached you slowly and with caution, “Sorry about what I said yesterday. About Ella not being you. It was weird, and I was tipsy, so I’m sorry.”

You raised your eyebrows at the man in front of you. You sat up and tilted your head at him, “You’re.. forgiven.”

He sent you a small smile before pulling up a chair to sit across from you on. You checked the time on your phone before looking back at him. It had to be only about eight-ish minutes until Sunghoon arrived.

Jake spoke next, “It’s nice to see you again.”

You nodded at him, “It’s been a bit.”

He smiled at you, “It’s definitely odd for me to see you with Sunghoon now, but he’s a good guy.”

You shrugged, “I don’t know if you could consider him someone I’m ‘with’ right now, he’s kind of just a fuck-buddy. He’s very sweet though, you’re right.”

“Homie hopping, I see,” Jake teased you from across the room. You hated to admit it, but you did really miss being around him. You’d forgotten how he knew just how to press your buttons, tease you, and make you feel just as annoyed as you did lustful.

You playfully shoved his shoulder from across him.

“I miss us,” you admitted, “not because I’m unhappy with Sunghoon, but having you around was always nice. Sometimes I wish we could go back to the way things were.”

“I feel the same,” Jake replied instantly. It was almost as if he’d been waiting for you to say that. However, before formulating his next sentence, he took a pause. His next sentence was barely spoken above a whisper:

“Maybe it could.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. Did he say what you thought he did? 

“What?”

Jake slowly got closer to you, and you felt yourself transported back four months. God, he always knew how to make you feel weak in the knees. Sunghoon did too, but it was different. You had really liked messing around with Jake. 

In the next moment, you could feel Jake’s lips almost on your own. Your heart skipped a beat.

“Maybe it could,” it was barely louder than last time, but this time it rung through your whole body. You found yourself grabbing one of his arms, almost feeding into the past with him.

You two broke apart as soon as you heard the door open. You motioned for Jake to hide behind the bed frame while you went to talk to Sunghoon, as he had just arrived. How ironic.

“Hello, Y/N,” he smiled, ruffling your hair slightly, “did you miss me all too much?”

“Not even a little bit,” you teased, going up behind him and smacking his ass. He immediately whipped around and you slipped away and ran to the living room, laughing.

“You’re such a bother,” he cornered you between the table and the wall, ready to grab you whenever you decided to try and run away.

You screamed as he once again chased you, and once he finally caught you, he picked you up and took you to the couch.

“Get your shoes on,” he ordered, “we should probably get going soon.”

You complied, rising from the couch and patting down your hair, “You’re really good at messing up my hair,” you complained sarcastically from across the room.

“Damn right, I am.”

You slipped on your sneakers and met Sunghoon at the door of the apartment.

“Ready to go?” he asked, to which you nodded.

You both left the building and bounded down to his car outside of the apartment.

As you neared the car, you couldn’t push away the guilt that was eating you alive from what happened with Jake. Sure, you and Sunghoon weren’t exclusive or anything serious, but it still felt wrong in a way. You and Jake were meant to be left in the past.

Around five minutes later, you receive a text:

unknown number : hey

You stared at it, confused, before responding:

you : who is this

The number wasted no time to respond:

unknown number : take a wild guess

unknown number : :)

You rolled your eyes, immediately knowing who it was, wondering how he obtained your number:

you : jake how the fuck did you get my number

You swiftly changed the contact name, then waited for a response. Sunghoon looked over at you, “Are you good?”

Caught off guard, you stumbled over your words, “Yeah, yeah, I’m goo- I’m great. Why wouldn’t I be?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you before turning his gaze back to the road, “You’re a bad liar.”

Suddenly, Jake responded:

do not answer : doesn’t matter

do not answer : i have a question though

You rolled your eyes, typing a response:

you : what

As if on cue, he texted back:

do not answer : what was that earlier

do not answer : in sunghoon’s room

do not answer : and do not fucking say nothing

You silently sighed and then formulated a message:

you : i don’t know, let’s just forget about it

His end went silent suddenly. You chewed your lip nervously, awaiting a response. You didn’t need one, you knew that. But knowing him, he wouldn’t let you have the last word. Especially not in this situation.

About an hour later, you received a final message:

do not answer : can you meet me tonight

iv. A FIRE BURNS INSIDE ME

You knew you were making a big mistake. It was a horrible idea: agreeing to meet Jake in secret. You really didn’t know why you made such stupid decisions sometimes; it was like you were your own worst enemy.

But here you were, at 10pm, quietly knocking on Jake’s apartment door. He had told you that Jay staying with his parents as he went to visit them out of town, and obviously there would be no trace of Ella there. You felt bad for the girl, knowing that you were meeting up with her boyfriend in private. Plus, with the whole bedroom incident earlier, you would need to tread lightly. You were going to make sure that nothing happened.

You waited at the door for another minute before Jake opened it quickly and ushered you in, “I have neighbors who know Ella, so I can’t have them getting the wrong idea if you’re here.”

Right. Funny.

He shut the door behind you quickly, leading you to the couch in his living room. The last time you were on this couch was the last time you ever planned on seeing Jake.

You opted on taking a seat on one side of the couch after Jake sat himself on the other. He smiled at you from his spot, trying to ease your nerves about behind there alone with him.

“Do you want something to drink?” He asked. He knew you well.

You smirked, “A glass of red wine would be lovely.”

He got up from his seat on the couch and quickly made his way to the kitchen. Your eyes trailed his figure before it went out of sight. Taking a deep breath, you checked your phone, a couple messages dancing across your screen.

From Sunghoon:

sunghoon 💨☺️ : no 

sunghoon 💨☺️ : but i can try to work something out

From Ningning:

ningning : okay i can pick you up if you’d like

From an attractive boy in your major:

wonbin park : yea i didn’t understand it either if that makes you feel any better

wonbin park : if you want to we could try to meet up with the professor for help

wonbin park : up to you tho

And from a childhood friend, Jungwon:

jungwon 🚨🚨 : u make such bad decisions y/n 

jungwon 🚨🚨 : if u still lived in town i’d come find u and strangle u idk

Jungwon was really calling you out. You knew he was right, you should probably just leave. 

In the same breath, though, Jake did offer to give you a drink, and to at least be polite, you knew you should stay until you finish it.

Jake made his way back from the kitchen to find you, and he had two glasses of red wine and the wine bottle, both glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other. He placed your glass in front of you onto a coffee table with the bottle nearby and sat down with his own glass.

You took a sip before breaking the silence, “So why did you call me over?”

“I dunno,” he answered, “I feel like we kind of have some catching up to do, I guess. Do you wanna watch something? A romcom, maybe?”

“That’s fine.” You needed the background noise if you were going to talk to Jake anyways. You might go insane if you had to engage in conversation and give him your undivided attention.

For the first half hour of the film, no words were exchanged besides commentary about the plot. Once you two had finished a couple of drinks, the atmosphere lightened up, and you began to converse more freely.

“What do you really think about Sunghoon?” 

A question that Jake asked that had actually stuck out to you amongst his nonsense. You couldn’t pinpoint exactly why this question bothered you so much, but you answered anyways:

“He’s a gentlemen. Great in bed, good friend, pretty funny. Sometimes I could see myself gaining feelings for him, but I seriously doubt that’ll happen. I just can’t go for fuck-buddies, y’know?”

Jake laughed, “I mean, I don’t know. Obviously.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him before reaching over and flicking his forehead, “Knock it off.”

He made a swipe at your wrist but you’d pulled it away too quickly for him to grab. He slouched in his spot, teasing you while singing, “Sorry..”

You readjusted yourself on the couch before taking your turn to ask a question, “What do you really think of Ella?”

At her name, Jake tensed up slightly. It was subtle, but enough of his body reacted for you to notice.

“Hah.. about that…” he trailed off.

“What? What happened? You guys were literally all over each other yesterday,” you nagged. It was true; Ella was gushing about Jake while she talked to you two, and when all of you went out, they never left the other person’s side.

“We, uh, we’re on a break. Right now, I mean,” he confessed, surprising you.

“What the hell? Why?” you asked, almost accusatory, though you assumed the break happened due to Ella, but you couldn’t be sure. You grabbed the TV remote and paused the movie, wanting to actually listen to his story.

Jake sighed, “I really couldn’t tell you,” he paused, taking a drink of the wine, “it was really sudden. It happened this morning.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. That really sucks,” you comforted him, scooting closer to pat him on his knee. You let your hand rest there for a couple of seconds, and Jake puts his hand on top of yours.

“Don’t touch me,” you teased, lightly hitting him on the shoulder.

“Don’t touch me!!” Jake mocked you, now going for the side of your neck with a small jab.

“Jake,” you warned, playfully giving him a scowl. At this point, you had sat up on your knees, giving you a better range of motion to attack the man in front of you, and a better opportunity to dodge his attacks.

As you went to try and grab his waist for pressure points, he grabbed your wrists and pulled you closer to him, “Jake….” He mocked, getting in your face to tease you.

The play fighting soon escalated into playful wrestling on his couch, mostly with Jake winning as he was much stronger than you.

At some point, he pushed you a little too hard and you landed with your back on the couch. Because he was holding your wrist at the moment, you took him with you on your small tumble, causing the man to be hovering inches away from your face.

His outer arm was propped up on the couch, caging you into your spot. He was still holding onto your wrist with his other hand. You could smell the wine on his breath, but it was ultimately overpowered by the scent of his cologne. 

That goddamn cologne.

In an instant, you pushed your lips onto his. The kiss was fiery, sloppy, and hot. He tasted like alcohol. You didn’t even care.

Jake immediately leaned further into the kiss, his grip on your wrist loosening almost instantly. You felt him breathe a sigh through his nose, signifying that he had been anticipating, hoping something that like this would happen.

You took this as a sign to continue. You brought your free hand to the nape of his neck, slightly running your fingers through his hair. Jake slightly groaned into your mouth before taking the hand that was holding your wrist and instead bringing it to the side of your face.

The alcohol coursed through your veins as you made your next move. Lust-driven, you pushed Jake slightly in the chest with your free hand and you both sat up, your lips temporarily leaving the other’s. 

As soon as you were both sat normally on the couch, Jake pulled you into his lap, his hands finding your waist. You brought your hands to his shoulders, one hand making its way to his upper back and the other one going to grab for his hair again. 

Jake swiped his tongue on your bottom lip, and you immediately complied, opening your mouth to kiss him deeper. Jake gripped your waist tighter and pulled you closer to him, your bodies now touching. As he pulled you, you felt his bulge in his pants brush up against your lower regions, eliciting a whimper out of you. You pulled onto his hair harder.

Jake’s hands slowly made their way from your waist to your torso, his cold hands slipping under your baggy shirt you wore, giving you goosebumps. 

His breath made you crinkle your nose when you broke apart momentarily, his half-lidded eyes meeting yours. He began running a hand up and down your back, his eyes instead making their way down to your parted lips. Jake took his right hand from under your shirt and gently pushed your hair away from above your shoulder, exposing your neck and a part of your collarbone.

He met eyes with you again while leaning in, looking for your okay. You couldn’t even think straight, you had forgotten how much this man drove you crazy with lust. You just bit your lip and nodded, and he immediately started planting kisses on your neck, slowly bringing them further down your body, towards your collarbone and shoulder. At points, he would find your weak spots and kiss deeper, longer, and he would even suck on the skin. 

You hated that he still remembered you well.

You guys were meant to be in the past.

What the fuck were you doing right now?

You tried getting his attention, though most of the words came out as whimpers because of what he was doing, “Jake… Jake.”

You moved your hands from his neck and back and placed them both on the top of his shoulders, slightly pushing him back. He detached himself from your neck and looked back at you with eyes that you didn’t know could contain that much lust.

“Jake…”

Jake loosened his grip on your torso and dropped his hands back to your hips. His voice was husky as he replied, “Yeah? Is everything okay?” You could still smell the wine on his breath due to the proximity, making a point to remove your hands from his shoulders now.

You gulped at him, looking at him in the eyes with a concerned expression, “No, no. Everything’s not okay.”

He tilted his head in confusion at you, signaling that he wanted you to continue, “What’s wrong, Y/N?”

“Us, Jake. We shouldn’t be doing this. You and I both know this, I don’t know why I even agreed to come here…” you started rambling, taking Jake’s hands off your hips and pulling yourself off his lap. You straightened out your clothes before pacing around his living room, searching for your shoes. You cursed yourself a million times.

“What? Y/N, what did I do?” Jake sounded worried, getting up from the couch and following your body with his eyes. 

You turned to face him, “Jake. You and I both know damn well that ‘this’,” you beckoned between the two of you, “should not be happening.”

“What do you mean?” He started walking towards you, you now scampering away because you found your shoes. You needed to leave as soon as possible.

“Are you kidding me? What do you mean , ‘what do you mean?’? Jake, you have a girlfriend. What the fuck are we doing?” You sighed exasperated at him, slipping your shoes on in a quick manner.

“Fuck,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “fuck, Y/N. You know we’re on a break.”

“That doesn’t mean you should pounce on me at the first opportunity you get!” You emphasized, getting frustrated. “I was stupid for coming over here alone. I’m sorry for initiating anything. We need to be left in the past.”

“We don’t have to be, though!” Jake urged, his voice also raising, “Y/N, I know you’re with Sunghoon, but you don’t have to be. I can treat you right. You- you deserve better.” Jake began slurring his words, the alcohol taking over his speech process.

You looked at him, eyebrows furrowed in anger, “This was a mistake.”

You grabbed all your belongings before quickly exiting his apartment. As you left, you heard Jake calling your name, “Y/N!”

You couldn’t believe yourself. It wasn’t about Ella or Sunghoon. Ella didn’t have a say if she initiated a break with him, and Sunghoon didn’t have a say either; he was just your fuck-buddy after all. 

What it was about was you not sticking to what you told yourself. You and Jake needed to be something that stayed in the past, yet here you just were, making out with him in his apartment, months after breaking things off. You knew better.

You quickly called Ningning, who lived about a couple blocks away. She picked up the phone right as you exited the apartment complex.

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Woah, you sound fucked up. Are you okay?”

“I- I don’t know. Probably not. I’m drunk. Can you come pick me up?”

“Where are you?”

You cleared your throat before continuing, trying to formulate this next sentence as best as possible without sounding guilty, even though you were very much guilty.

“I’m, uh, like right near Jake’s apartment building. Like, I’m standing in front of it now.”

Ningning had picked you up from Jake’s apartment before when you used to hook up, especially when you and her had made plans for the following day. She knew exactly where you were. She didn’t give you a physical reaction, but you were sure to hear about it the following morning.

“I’m on my way. Stay right where you are.”

Within a minute or two, Ningning pulled up in front of the apartment building. Once you got in the car, you were met with a crazed look, “You have a lot of fucking explaining to do.”

“I know. I know. It’s not what you think it is, though.” You lied right through your teeth to her. Whatever was happening at Jake’s was about to escalate into exactly what Ningning was assuming you were doing there. You’re glad you stopped it, but the feeling of being pissed off at yourself for even going overpowered any happiness you felt in the moment. You couldn’t even think properly anyways. The wine had taken a bigger toll on you than you’d anticipated.

Ningning started driving towards her apartment in silence.

Suddenly, your phone screen lit up with a text:

do not answer : im sorry

v. MY HEART CRAVES YOU

A week or two later and you hadn’t seen Jake and had no plans to. You still beat yourself up over what happened, sometimes contemplating whether going out was even worth it anymore. You always had that chance of running into him.

But, when Sunghoon invited you to pregame with him, Heeseung, and Ningning before a party, you figured that you’d been celibate from parties for long enough now, and going to at least one wouldn’t hurt. You missed the atmosphere of getting fucked up and not having to think about anything for a bit. It’s what you needed right now anyways.

You found yourself at Sunghoon’s apartment again, waiting outside the door for him to let you in. You chewed on your lip at the situation; Sunghoon had no idea about what happened, but you were terrified it would all come back to bite you in the ass sooner or later. You pushed the thought out of your brain. You and Sunghoon weren’t anything serious anyways.

Sunghoon opened the door and pulled you into his apartment, “Hey!”

You smiled at him almost immediately. Being around him really did ease your nerves, you hated to admit. He looked really good tonight, clad in just a T-shirt and his sweatpants with freshly washed hair.

“Hi,” you laughed, following him to his room, “sorry I’m here early, I tried to take more time getting ready, but I haven’t partied in a couple weeks and I got eager.”

“Why are you apologizing for coming to see me early? I like having you around,” he said as you sat yourself on his bed. He tugged at the top of your ear once.

“Okay, cornball,” you blushed at his words, rolling your eyes playfully at him, “You’re such a flirt.”

“I’m not allowed to flirt with you now?” He questioned you dramatically, “What kind of society do we live in?”

You laughed at his antics as he walked to his closet to pick an outfit for the night. He held up clothes for you, waiting for you to give him either a thumbs up or down depending on your opinion on it.

He ended up settling on a pair of black pants, a white hoodie, and he threw on a basketball jersey over it.

“Never knew you were such an athlete,” you commented, teasing him.

It sounded like Ningning and Heeseung had returned, bringing others with them. Sunghoon pulled you up from his bed and took you to the living room. You were met with the sight of Jay, Ella, and of course, Jake. You weren’t even surprised at this point.

“Oh,” Sunghoon remembered, “I forgot to tell you that Jay, Jake, and Ella are joining us to pregame. I hope you don’t really mind.”

“Even if I did, I don’t think it would really matter.” You half grumbled at him, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on your mannerisms.

You stopped him with you in the hallway, whispering, “Wait, why is Ella here?”

“What do you mean?” He furrowed his eyebrows at you, looking confused.

“I don’t know, someone told me that her and Jake went on a break.”

Sunghoon shook his head at you, “Uh, no. At least as far as I’m aware, they didn’t. I saw them on a date the day after you and I went to go see our friends. They’re with each other basically every day.”

You had to fight every urge to heavily sigh at the moment, “Oh, okay. Weird.”

You were so confused. The day after you and Sunghoon visited friends was the day after the whole incident that drove you away from Jake for two weeks happened. The same damn day, and he was with her the day after. A day long break didn’t make any sense to you. She was happy with him, and you all weren’t in high school. You shook your head at yourself with furrowed eyebrows as you walked back with Sunghoon towards the living room.

You smiled at Ella, who had Jake’s arm slithered around her waist. That poor fucking girl. She had no idea. You couldn’t believe him.

She smiled back at you radiantly. She was so beautiful.

Everyone stood in the living room, but instead of staying there, you all decided to head towards the kitchen to pregame, where there were already drinks out. You grabbed a Twisted Tea as you passed it, immediately cracking it open to drink. You needed the alcohol. The situation was stressing you out more than you’d like to admit. You had to confront Jake.

Around twenty minutes later, you found yourself passing him and tapping his leg. When he turned around, you gave him a look of “you need to talk with me, now.”

You slipped away to the bathroom, no one seemingly noticing your exit. You wanted this talk to be as quick as possible.

About three minutes of waiting later, Jake also slipped into the bathroom. He smiled at you as he walked in. You couldn’t believe his audacity.

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked, walking towards you. You put distance between him and yourself, crossing your arms.

If looks could kill, Jake would be a dead man.

“What the fuck is your problem?” You whisper-shouted, looking at him incredulously.

“Huh?”

“I heard from the grapevine that you,” you forcibly pointed at him, “and Ella were never on a break.”

His eyes widened. You were sure he didn’t mean to get caught, but his look told you everything.

“Don’t think I wouldn’t have found out, Sim,” you spat at him, “you’re actually unbelievable.”

An apology immediately started rushing out of his mouth at you, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s just, I was intoxicated, and- and so were you, and we were alone… you know I’ve always had a thing for you since we met. But- but you’re with Sunghoon now, I know, so I saw it as my only chance.”

“Jake,” you sighed, “I honestly don’t think I can accept your apology. You know better. And you should apologize to Ella instead. I’m with Sunghoon now, and I know we were both drunk, but that can neverhappen again.”

He gulped before you laid the mallet down on him, “Last time we tried this should be evident of that.”

“You’re right.”

You immediately walked past him, opening the door to the bathroom and slipping back out and walking towards the kitchen.

Jake followed you around four minutes later, delaying his arrival to not bring up any suspicions. You made your way to stand between Ningning and Jay, grabbing another drink. 

Seconds later, Sunghoon appeared behind you. He slid his arms around your waist, his cold touch sending a shiver down your spine. You craned your neck to look at him, trying to make eye contact but his eyes were elsewhere. His gaze was honed in on Jake, and if looks could kill, there would be Jake’s blood all over the apartment right now.

Jake averted eye contact and opted to look at Ella. 

Once the pregaming ended, you found yourself in a car with Heeseung, Sunghoon, and Ningning. Heeseung was the designated driver, and you were grateful that you could get sloshed tonight and not have to think about anything for a bit.

Heeseung parked about a block away from the party, Jay parking about thirty feet behind you guys. The walk to the party was surprisingly cold for it being an almost summer night, the weather not missing its chance to brush the cold winds against your bare legs. 

“You cold?” Sunghoon asked, taking a look over at you.

“Maybe a bit,” you admitted, wrapping each of your arms around the other, “it’s fine, it’ll probably be sweaty in there anyways.”

Soon you all reached the party, one by one trailing into the loud house. It was already insanely packed, each corner and crevice of the place having people in it. The music was deafening, and the heat that already made its way towards you was all the evidence you needed that wearing only a dress was a good idea.

Sunghoon grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd and towards what you assumed would be the kitchen, or wherever the drinks would be located.

You made sure to grip well on his hand, because every person you tried to walk by somehow ended up not noticing your presence and never moving, causing you to fall behind.

Sunghoon led you into the kitchen, where it was surprisingly less crowded. You still could barely hear even though the music was a room away now. You could also barely see, the lights were so dim that you had to squint to see the faces of those around you.

There were a lot of drinks to choose from, most being put in plastic pitchers with labels made out of packing tape and sharpie. 

You walked over, grabbed a red solo cup, and then made your way towards the pitcher labeled “JUNGLE JUICE” and poured yourself a cup, it almost being filled to the brim.

“Woah,” Sunghoon commented when he saw how full your drink was, “you should calm down with the amount, Y/N. Don’t want you getting sick.”

You looked at him, took a drink, then commented, “I may get sick, I may not. Not the end of the world if I do.”

He gave you a pointed look before asking, “Do you want to go back to the living room?”

You nodded and followed his lead as he parted the way for you. You tried your best to not get separated from him. It wasn’t like you weren’t able to handle being by yourself at a party, but you wanted to get a few drinks in before attempting to be independent.

Half an hour passed and you were on your fifth drink of the night. You weren’t sure how it was physically possible, but after you finished your fifth drink, you wanted another. You needed to forget everything that had happened over the past few weeks, and even if it was for one night, that was okay with you.

You parted ways with Sunghoon once again for the night, beckoning towards the kitchen and telling him that you’d be back soon.

After getting your sixth drink, you had every intention of getting back to Sunghoon. Instead, you found yourself getting intrigued by the outdoors. There weren’t many people outside, only about fifteen, but you figured there was nothing wrong with taking a breath of fresh air for a moment.

Opening the door, you were get again met with the cold breeze, but with all the alcohol running through your veins, you didn’t feel as cold as you did earlier.

You stepped onto the concrete patio and spotted who you thought was a classmate, Wonbin Park. He was sitting by himself in a lawn chair, seemingly observing everyone in the backyard.

You approached him, making yourself seen, to which he waved at you. You stood by his chair and he looked up at you.

“Hey,” he started, smiling at you. You doubted he had drank as much as you, you were sure you looked a mess. He looked fine. Good, even.

“Hey,” you replied, “what are you doing here?”

He laughed at your words, “I’m here to drink and forget about the past week. You?”

“It’s like you read my mind,” you commented.

“Almost like that’s what parties are for,” Wonbin said, nudging your bare knee, “how are you not cold right now?”

“I’ve had a lot to drink,” you admitted.

“I can tell,” he replied, “you should probably not finish that.”

Wonbin motioned to the drink in your hand, now already half empty.

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.”

As if Wonbin could read your mind, he wasn’t surprised when you gagged, suddenly feeling hot acid rising in your throat.

You ran over to the grass and let a bit of vomit escape your mouth, your eyes watering at the taste.

Wonbin walked quickly over to you, “Let’s get you inside, yeah?”

As he brought you inside, he asked, “Who are you here with?”

You had your hand held over your mouth as you tried not to vomit anymore. Wonbin ushered you to an empty bathroom so you could get sick (mostly) in peace.

“Are you here with Sunghoon?” He asked, worried for you.

You nodded miserably as you hunched over the toilet and let loose. It wasn’t as much as you thought it would be, but you felt disgusting. You knew it wouldn’t be all in one go, your stomach was upset. You’d probably be here for at least twenty minutes.

Wonbin looked at you, “I don’t want to leave you here alone, but I’m gonna go find Sunghoon.”

You offered no response as you continued getting sick in the toilet. The room smelled like alcohol, vomit, and toilet water. The smell alone could’ve made you vomit even more.

A minute later, a familiar figure entered the bathroom and crouched next to you. You were hoping it would be Sunghoon, but by the smell of the cologne which was now mixed in the air, you knew exactly who it was.

You wanted to be mad, but you were too miserable to focus your energy on that. You were just grateful someone would be there to help you while you tried not to die.

He gently pulled your hair back for you, keeping it up so you wouldn’t get sick all over it. 

Jake could be alright sometimes.

He placed his other hand comfortingly on your back, rubbing it, hoping to soothe whatever you were going through. This action was cut short, however, when Wonbin returned with Heeseung, Ningning, and Sunghoon.

Even as loud as it was and as drunk as you were, the way that Sunghoon barked Jake’s surname rang through your mind, “Sim.”

You looked up from your spot to watch Heeseung, Jake, and Sunghoon disappear. Wonbin ushered Ningning towards you, her now taking the spot that Jake once occupied.

“Do you need anything?” Wonbin asked carefully.

You shook your head at him, not being able to speak.

“Okay,” he paused, “please don’t die, Y/N.”

You laughed as much as you physically could at his words, which in reality was a small chuckle, but if you had done any more, you could’ve thrown up all over Ningning. Throwing up in the toilet was enough for you.

Wonbin left. Quickly, Ningning turned to you and asked, “Y/N, why the fuck were you in here with Jake?”

“I-” you slightly turned to her, trying to speak, but failing. You turned your head back to the toilet bowl and hurled some more.

“I don’t know,” you croaked out, as loud as you could, “he- he didn’t bring me in here. Wonbin did. Jake just- he showed up.”

You slurred some of your words together. You couldn’t remember the last time you were this drunk.

Ningning said nothing but hummed at what you said. You didn’t think that she didn’t believe you, but you also weren’t sure that she did believe you.

Ten minutes of hurling later, Sunghoon and Heeseung returned in the doorway of the bathroom. Ningning got up and Sunghoon took her place, “I told you that you were gonna be sick.”

You vomited again.

He placed a hand on the small of your back and rubbed in a circle. You were glad he showed up. His presence made you feel a lot better than Jake’s did.

You stayed there for five minutes before attempting to stand up with the help of Sunghoon.

“Let’s leave,” he said to Heeseung.

Sunghoon laced his fingers with yours as he helped you out of the house. In the time that you’d been throwing up, the amount of people in the house had waned down. It was less difficult to make your way through the crowd now.

Most of the faces blurred as you walked past, but one really stuck out to you. Jake Sim was sitting on a couch with Ella.

His lip had been completely busted open.

You paid no mind to the wind as you exited the house. If anything, you welcomed it with open arms. It semi-sobered you up.

In the process of becoming more sober, you had come to the realization of something:

Jake hadn’t had a busted lip when he was comforting you. 

What the Hell had happened in those ten minutes?

vi. I CAN’T REFUTE MY INSTINCTS

Sunghoon, somehow, had become even more protective of you as of late. You figured it had something to do with whatever happened between him and Jake at the party, and you had your suspicions of what went down, but when you’d asked Sunghoon, he always just tried to ignore the situation. Plus, you didn’t know if he would tell you the full truth anyways.

So, you got the genius idea to confront Jake instead. 

Who were you kidding, it was a horrible idea. But you needed to have your suspicions confirmed, at the very least. So you texted him:

you : jake 

Within seconds, a response came:

do not answer : yo

do not answer : what’s up

You couldn’t believe he was hitting you with a “yo” right now. Was he allergic to social cues?

you : i need to ask you about something

you : can i come over later

you : don’t get any ideas

He took a minute before responding:

do not answer : ig 

do not answer : jays not home rn just come now

you : ok

You left your apartment within minutes. You weren’t exactly eager to see Jake, but nonetheless, you really wanted to know what was up with the party the other night. Even after you suffered through a hangover, you remembered that moment perfectly.

When you arrived at Jake’s apartment building, you chewed on your lip. You weren’t exactly sure why. You knew that nothing would happen, and all that was going to happen was Jake telling you the truth.

At least you hoped.

When you went to knock on his door, it swung open, Jake’s large figure greeting you before you even had a chance to register what was happening. He stepped to the side and let you walk in. You only made your way to further down his entrance hallway; you wanted to be in and out of here as quickly as humanly possible.

Jake trailed your figure and met you at the end of the hallway. He stood directly across from you and mirrored your body language as he leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

“So,” you started, not wanting to waste any more time.

“So.”

You sighed, “I need you to be completely transparent with me, Jake.”

He gave you a pointed look, “What’s the problem?” He didn’t seem all too thrilled that you were here for once, which was a genuine surprise for you. You didn’t fail to notice how his lip was still busted, so you went ahead and bit the bullet:

“What happened to your lip?”

The question was simple, it could be chalked up to a friend having concern for another friend. But it wasn’t. You weren’t even really friends, and your only concern was the reason behind the busted lip. Not the person suffering the blow of it.

Jake’s gaze faltered slightly and you almost missed it. He swallowed quickly, “Nothing. I just hit it on something.”

“Bullshit,” you snapped back, “that’s bullshit and we both know it.”

“Why do you even care?” He pushed, his annoyance at you now becoming prevalent.

You rolled your eyes but had to think for a second. Why did you care? You didn’t care about Jake’s lip, you could give less of a fuck. You desperately needed to know about why it happened though. And why Sunghoon had suddenly flipped a switch. You weren’t stupid, you obviously knew something went down. But you needed your suspicions to be confirmed at the very least.

“You’re hurt, Jake,” you lied through your teeth, “anyone with eyes can see that your lip is fucked up. I care about whether you’re hurt. And I have a feeling it has to do with Sunghoon,” you paused, “and I’m sure you know that I should know what happened. But he hasn’t told me anything.”

You finally looked at him again, “Which is why I came to you.”

Jake sighed, running a hand through his hair. You knew you’d cracked him. It was almost too easy. You just hoped what he admitted was the full truth.

He licked his lips before speaking, “You’re right. This,” he motioned to his busted lip, “does have to do with Sunghoon. There. You happy now?”

So you were right. You desperately needed to know the details, though. You didn’t give up that easily.

“Jake.”

“What?”

“What happened between you guys?”

He let out another sigh, then pursing his lips to fight a scowl. He laughed a bit to himself before clearing his throat:

“We fought.”

You weren’t shocked. Between Sunghoon’s newfound behavior and Jake’s altered physical appearance, you assumed that was what happened. However, you feigned shock so he could continue.

“Yeah, I know, right? Funny. Good guy Sunghoon tried to beat the shit out of me,” he laughed through the pain, a look of discontent in his eyes.

“Why… why would he do that?” You mustered out. You scared yourself sometimes with how well you could act.

“You tell me.”

Your words temporarily genuinely got caught in your throat, “W- what?”

Jake tilted his head at you, “He’s your boyfriend.”

“Jake, you already know that he refuses to tell me anything about this. Plus, he and I aren’t dating anyways.”

“Really,” he commented passive aggressively, “because for someone who isn’t dating you, he was really protective over me helping you. While you were throwing up, mind you.”

“Huh?”

It started to click. The appearance of Jake, followed by the appearance of Sunghoon, Sunghoon barking Jake’s name, them leaving, and Sunghoon coming back, alone. And, of course, the busted lip.

“Yeah. Your little not-boyfriend was mad that I was your knight in shining armor for once, not him,” he scoffed, “and he told me to back off.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Said he has suspicions about me or some shit like that.”

You laughed at his words. Of course Sunghoon had suspicions about Jake. You would have suspicions too if you were him. 

“What’s funny?”

You attempted to return to normal, “Nothing, nothing. It’s just- Jake. You really can’t be mad about him having suspicions.”

Jake paused and chuckled while running a hand through his hair once more, “Yeah, he’s not wrong for having them, I guess.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him before becoming a bit more serious, “Okay. Well, uh, I’m sorry about, y’know, that,” you motioned to his lips, “and- and thank you. For helping me all those days ago. And for being honest with me.” You gave him a genuine smile.

“Yeah, of course, uh, I’ll see you around then?” Jake said as you started walking towards his apartment door. 

“Maybe,” you left him hanging, and as you were going to pull the door open, you turned to face him one last time as he waved bye to you.

Pulling the door open, you turned around, ready to leave. Instead, you ran into a tall figure, who was clearly trying to enter while you were trying to exit. So much for trying to go to see Jake unnoticed.

The man you ran into was none other than Jay.

vii. LIKE A FEVER

You weren’t surprised. You really weren’t.

Of course Jay would tell Sunghoon that you were at Jake’s. Of fucking course. And honestly, after the conversation you and Jake had about how Sunghoon felt about you two, you didn’t blame Jay for narcing. You did kind of resent him for it, though, because jumping to conclusions never ends well. 

Plus, the situation had absolutely nothing to do with Jay. He should have just butted out while he was ahead.

When Sunghoon arrived at your apartment the morning following the Jay incident, you expected it to be a pleasant visit. Not whatever he was doing right now.

As soon as you let him in, he stormed past you into your living room. You tried to grab his arm but he just shook you off.

You shut the door and turned back around. He looked tense. You knew this wasn’t going to end well.

You shyly followed him into the living room, not entirely sure why you were cowering at the moment. You wanted to chalk it up to the fact that it was Sunghoon, but you were never this nervous about confrontations with fuck-buddies. It was weird.

When he reached the couch, he sat down and motioned for you to sit on the chair adjacent to it. Sunghoon ran a hand across his face and groaned.

“Y/N,” he breathed out, obviously irritated.

You looked at him, “Sunghoon…”

He scoff-laughed, “Do you want to explain yourself to me?”

“About- about what?” You asked. You weren’t dumb, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t play dumb for the time being.

“Don’t fucking play dumb, Y/N,” Sunghoon spat at you, “okay? Do not play dumb.”

“I can’t explain myself if I don’t know what you want me to explain.”

He sighed. You were right. You could tell he hated when you were right, because you’d cornered him into expressing his anger. Men never seemed to like to talk about their feelings.

“Okay,” he sighed, once more, exasperatedly, “Do you wanna tell me why you were at Jake’s yesterday? Alone?”

“Who told you that? Was it Jay? Because he doesn’t know the full story-”

“It doesn’t matter who it was, Y/N! You need to explain yourself!”

He stood up at his last sentence and looked at you incredulously. You tried to get him to sit back down and calm his nerves, “Sunghoon, sit down, please. It’s not what you’re thinking, at all.”

Ironically, it was what he was thinking, but the one time that you two were caught was the one time that it hadn’t been anything weird. He was wrong, but in the same breath, he was also right.

“No, damnit, Y/N,” he said, “I’m not going to sit!”

“Sunghoon,” you replied, now standing, “it’s not at all what you think it is.”

“Really?” He asked, aggravated, “Then fucking tell me what it was.”

You stepped closer to him, now also getting frustrated, “I’ll tell you exactly what it was if you would just listen.”

“Oh, I’m listening, alright.” He said, staring at you with a fiery gaze.

“Okay. Then just hear me out,” you replied, trying to calm yourself, “I went to Jake’s apartment to ask what had happened between you and him the other night. When I was getting sick, and-”

“You have got to be fucking kidding me, Y/N,” he groaned, looking at you with a snarl, “you could have just come and asked me what the fuck happened! You didn’t need to go to him!”

“I fucking tried that!” You yelled at him, “You wouldn’t tell me anything! Have you forgotten somehow?!”

“It doesn’t matter, Y/N,” he breathed out, still angry, “you shouldn’t have gone to him in the first place.”

“I wouldn’t have,” you started, “I wouldn’t have, if you would’ve just, I don’t know, been honest with me?!”

“Y/N,” he started, “I don’t think you understand what’s really happening here.”

“Stop. Stop right now. You think I’m stupid,” you commented, flailing your arms around, “you think that I don’t understand whatever the fuck is happening. I don’t want to play this game anymore, Sunghoon. The game where you know everything and I’m not allowed to know anything. And if I find out on my own, I ‘don’t even really understand’. At least, according to you.”

“That’s not what I’m saying-”

“No. Stop. Leave my apartment,” you looked him in the eyes, “I don’t want to do this,” you motioned between you two, what you were referencing pretty obvious to him, “anymore, if you’re going to play this stupid fucking game. I’m done.”

“Y/N, come on. Don’t be like this.”

“Leave. I don’t want to talk to you right now. We can talk once you’re ready to try and listen to me for once,” you ordered, pointing to the door, “leave, Sunghoon.”

You didn’t watch him exit your apartment. Once he was gone, though, you made sure to lock the door. You leaned against the door, pulling your phone out of your back pocket, and opening the messaging app.

This time you didn’t care if it was a bad idea.

you : me and sunghoon broke things off

Within seconds, Jake started typing a response, so you turned off your phone and ran a hand across your face. If Sunghoon was really worried about Jake, now, if anything, you had to spite him and rub it in his face. Jake was still attractive. Jake would take you back. You guess it was just bound to happen.

Three minutes later and no response despite the typing bubble still being there. You began to give up hope, until he follows you up with an answer:

do not answer : come over

You arrived at Jake’s apartment with record time. You didn’t care if Jay was there, or if he would show up at some point, because now that you and Sunghoon were on a break (or whatever it was) you had free reign to do as you pleased. Even see Jake.

When Jake opened the door, his eyes immediately lit up at your figure. You looked a bit like a mess, but he didn’t seem to care.

You couldn’t lie, the stress made you look disheveled, and you were wearing probably the trashiest outfit you owned. Jake didn’t seem to mind as he pulled you into his house.

He led you down the hallway, “Jay’s not here. I figured you wouldn’t care, though, because who is he going to tell now?”

You laughed at his words and followed him into his bedroom. His laptop was seated on his bed, open, because he’d been doing some work, assumably. He moved it further to the wall, then walking and shutting the bedroom door before sitting down. He beckoned for you to do the same.

You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before sitting down next to him. You made yourself comfortable on his bed before speaking:

“Sorry about the sudden text.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, “Why would you be sorry? It’s not your fault that Sunghoon is an ass.”

You smiled at him, “You don’t even know what happened and you’re already taking my side.”

He leaned closer to you, “Ah, Sunghoon is always an ass. That has nothing to do with you or your situation.” 

He gave you a look, then continued, “What even happened anyways?”

“Oh, yeah, right,” you said, adjusting your seated position to face him better, “uh, it’s so dumb. Sunghoon got mad that I came over the other day and accused me of cheating or some shit. He wouldn’t even listen.”

“See,” Jake exclaimed, “he is an ass!”

You giggled at his words, grateful that he was there to make you feel better. It took a lot for you to ignore how the situation was really making you feel, but having something to distract you mattered more right now.

“It’s so funny,” you replied, “the fact that the reason I was even here was because of him. I even told him that! He doesn’t ever want to listen to me.”

You groaned, dramatically throwing yourself backwards onto Jake’s mattress.

He copied as you did and commented, “He’s an ass. Like I said.”

“It’s whatever. It doesn’t even matter now, I don’t want to talk to him,” you covered your face in your hands, “just thinking about him is pissing me off.”

“I get it,” he said, now suddenly sitting up, “I know how you feel.”

You sat up too, “What really bothers me is that he and I aren’t even exclusive. So even if you and I did fuck, there shouldn’t be an issue.”

You rolled your eyes at the situation.

“I mean…” Jake trailed off, treading lightly with his next choice of words, “now that you’re not exclusive… or there are no ties… there isn’t an apparent issue.”

You looked at him with widened eyes and a slight smile, “You sneaky son-of-a-bitch. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to have sex with me!”

Jake leaned over and moved his computer onto the ground. When he came up, his face was mere inches from yours.

He took a hand and brushed your hair away from your face. His touch sent chills through your body. 

He licked his lips, “And if I didn’t know any better, I’d think that you agreed to come over here for a real reason.”

You smirked at him, leaning in to meet his lips in the middle. His hand flew to your waist and pulled you closer to him. His touch was needy, but in your moment of desperation, you’re sure yours was too. Jake deepened the kiss and pulled you onto his lap.

Maybe this was what was meant to happen. If Sunghoon really wanted to paint you as a villain for coming to Jake’s, maybe you should become the villain. 

What’s wrong with a little fun, anyways?

viii. A SCAR LEFT IN ME

That night, you ended up staying at Jake’s place, no surprise. He always left you shocked with how much you missed having him in bed and as a friend. Sure, he wasn’t Sunghoon, but he’d have to do.

Two weeks and a some more hookups later, you’re sitting in Jake’s apartment kitchen. He was cooking something, and you were sat on the counter, watching him. In the time that you’d made yourself comfortable at Jake’s, you’d had more than a few run-ins with Jay. There was no doubt that he knew that you and Sunghoon had broken things off, but still seeing your presence obviously made him slightly upset. He refused to acknowledge you.

As if on cue, Jay walked into the apartment, not greeting either of you. He made a beeline for his room and slammed his door shut. 

“What’s crawled up his ass?” You commented, kicking your feet.

“I don’t know, he’s always in a bad mood when you’re here.”

“Understandable,” you said, thinking about Ella suddenly, “it probably makes him mad that he knows you’re cheating on Ella with me.”

For the past weeks, Ella really hadn’t made an appearance in your mind. A part of you felt bad, but you didn’t really care. If she was all that special, Jake wouldn’t have cheated on her.

“No, that’s not it,” he replied, looking up from the stove, “we broke up. He didn’t even like her all that much anyways.”

This was news to you. Sure, now that you’d thought of it, you hadn’t heard any news of Ella recently anyways. But you’d just assumed it was because Jake didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend to the girl he was cheating on her with.

“You guys broke up?” You hopped down from the counter, facing him with your whole body, “since when?”

“Like, a week and a half ago,” he explained, returning his eyes to the food he was making.

You thought of all the possibilities that could follow you asking the next question, but decided to go ahead and ask it anyways:

“Why?”

“Y/N,” he started, “you know it’s because of you. Even beyond having sex, it’s only ever been you. Ever since we met at that party.”

You took a step away from him, slowly. There was no way this was happening, again. You felt stupid for letting this happen, but you didn’t want to lose Jake as a friend. If you couldn’t look past his feelings last time, you definitely couldn’t look past them this time.

“Jake,” you said, “you know that this isn’t going to work like that.”

Jake turned the stove off and faced you, “What do you mean?”

“Come on, Jake. I couldn’t be with Sunghoon because of you, and I can’t be with you because of him.”

“What are you saying?”

“I couldn’t be with him because of you. He didn’t like us together.” 

“Yeah, but he’s out of the picture now,” he commented, stepping towards you.

“No, Jake, I-” you stopped yourself. Jake was right. Sunghoon was technically out of the picture now. So what was holding you back? No matter what you tried to think of, your mind always came back to Sunghoon. All of this nonsense made you think that maybe, some time, you had accidentally treaded too closely to the “more than friends” line with Sunghoon. This terrified you.

“It doesn’t matter,” you continued, “you were happy with Ella! Why would you mess that up for someone who you know it won’t end well with?! You’ve tried this before, and you didn’t succeed. Why would you now think that it would be anything different?”

He walked closer to you, almost cornering you to a wall. You swallowed deeply and braced yourself for whatever he would say next.

His words came out breathy, “I want you to ruin me, Y/N. Ruin my ideas about love, about what love is. Ruin me, so that even when I do get hurt like I inevitably will, and I go running back to Ella, all I can think about is you.”

You gulped, and he leaned in closer to you.

“You drive me into an absolutely uncontrollable desire. And, trust me, I have tried so hard to see her the way that I see you, feel the same desire. But, it’s only ever been you.”

He finally steps back from you, keeping his face straight, but you could see traces of desperation behind his gaze.

You cleared your throat, walking away from him and towards the living room where your keys and bag were.

As you walked down his hallway, he trailed behind you.

“Y/N…” he said softly as you grabbed the doorknob to leave.

“I need some time to think about this, Jake.”

Later that night, you found yourself still obsessing over Jake’s words. It was absolutely astonishing to you; how the man could be pushed away from you so many times but come crawling back for more. Even when he had a girlfriend. His feelings for you were probably genuine, and some parts of you wished that you could feel that back for the boy. He deserved someone to love him. You didn’t think that someone would be you.

You let your mind wander back to Sunghoon. At this point, you’d almost accepted defeat. You’d broken the one rule of being friends-with-benefits: catching feelings. And to make matters worse, you’d broken things off with the first man you’d had genuine feelings for in years. You were really good at messing things up for yourself.

Suddenly, your thoughts are interrupted by a call. The caller ID read “sunghoon ☺️💨”. Your heart jumped.

You don’t know what possessed you to answer so quickly, but you soon found yourself answering the phone and putting it to your ear.

“Hello?” You answered, attempting to sound as unimpressed as possible.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, obviously at least a little stressed, “I thought about what you said, y’know, two or so weeks ago, and I’d like to talk to you. Can I come over?”

“Only if you’re coming over to apologize,” you snarled, “otherwise fuck off.”

You hated how upset you quickly became, but from the reminders of Sunghoon’s actions two weeks ago, and the mix of emotions you felt towards Jake since this morning, you allowed yourself to be consumed in frustration.

It only takes ten minutes for Sunghoon to reach your apartment. Once let in, he immediately embraces you, catching you off guard.

“Woah,” you said, your voice muffled by his figure.

“I’m sorry.”

His apology felt like the gates of a dam being opened, because it was as if in that second, you’d come to clarity. About everything.

“I-” you tried, but nothing came out of your mouth, “it’s okay.”

“I was mad, and I was stupid, and I- I should’ve listened to you,” he said, not letting go of your figure. You hugged him back, running a hand down his back, “It’s okay, Hoon, it’s okay.”

You pulled away from him, getting his attention, “Let’s go to my room, yeah? We can talk there.”

As you sat down on your bed with him, you let your guard down. He was really fucking upset, anyone could see that. Sunghoon grabbed your hand as he continued, “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I ruined something good, I know. I’m just asking for you to forgive me.”

You rubbed your thumb over his finger as you tried to lighten the atmosphere, “Why the sudden change of heart?”

Sunghoon chuckled a bit through the tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He knew you’d already forgiven him, your body language was obvious. He laid his head on your lap, facing downwards.

“I fucked up,” he said, his voice muffled.

“What did you fuck up, Hoon?”

“I broke the one rule.”

“Turn over, I can’t hear you,” you said as you ran your fingers through his hair.

He rolled, his eyes now looking at yours. You brushed some hair away from his face gently. You could still see the tears brimming in his eyes.

“I broke the one rule.”

“What rule?”

“Of being fuck-buddies, Y/N.”

Your heart dropped at the words.

“I-” he choked, taking one of his hands to grab your own, “I have feelings for you, Y/N. Like real, genuine ones. I can’t risk losing you again.”

In a moment, everything from the past months had all came crashing down onto you.

“Okay,” you said, “I feel the same way. But I think I need time.”

You loved Sunghoon.

ix. I’M NOT A MONSTER

You and Sunghoon stayed together for the rest of the night, enjoying the other’s presence as you basked in all that you could from the lack of the previous weeks.

When you woke up the next morning, you smelled breakfast being made. God, this man really was willing to do anything to get you back. Your heart swelled.

You walked to the kitchen, letting yourself smile at the occurrence. You really had missed Sunghoon a lot.

As you approached him, you tried to be a quick as possible, not wanting to waste any more time of being away from him. Damn him, you really did like him. How could you have been so blind to your feelings before?

Once you reached him, you whispered, “Hi.”

He turned to the right to look at you, letting a smile form on his face, “Good morning, beautiful.”

You flushed at his words, “It’s 9am and you’re already being a flirt.”

“Can’t help it,” he replied, turning back to the food, “do you want some eggs? They’re almost done.”

“I’m okay, thank you though,” you said, tilting your head at the man, “I think I’ll just have a bagel or something.”

He nodded and you turned to your small pantry to find the bagels. Sunghoon turned off the stove and plated the eggs, taking a bite.

Suddenly, the doorbell buzzed.

“I’ll get it,” Sunghoon said, placing down his plate onto the counter. You didn’t mind that he was answering the door, he’d done it before. You wanted to find where the bagels were anyways.

You heard the door open, followed by Sunghoon’s voice ringing out a name that pierced through the air:

“Jake.”

Your heart dropped. What the fuck was he doing here? You told him that you needed time. Does he ever listen? You slowly made your way to the door.

“Oh, hey…” Jake cleared his throat, “Sunghoon. What, uh, what are you doing here?”

Before anything could unfold, you made yourself seen by the two men.

“Y/N!” Jake exclaimed.

“Oh, hi, Jake,” you walked your way next to Sunghoon, “what’s up?”

“I just…” he trailed off, glancing between you and Sunghoon, “wanted to ask you something real quick.”

“Oh,” you said, “you can come in.”

You led Jake to the living room and Sunghoon closed the door, speedily following behind you two. You could tell that he wasn’t thrilled that Jake was here.

An awkward silence consumed the room. It seemed that whatever Jake had on his mind, he wanted to say it one-on-one. In order to get it over with as quickly as possible, you turned to Sunghoon and suggested, “Sunghoon, would you mind finding the bagels for me really quickly? Just for a minute so we can talk.”

He scowled at Jake before turning away to walk to the kitchen. You watched him make his way to the pantry, not missing how he turned back to look at you and Jake once more. You sent him an apologetic look.

Once out of earshot, you lowly said, “Jake, what are you doing here?”

“Uh, sorry,” he explained, “I wouldn’t have come if I knew he was gonna be here.”

You rolled your eyes, “Jake. What do you want?”

“There’s a new restaurant that just opened downtown,” he started, tilting his head at you, “I wanted to see if you would go with me.”

You sighed, “The offer is really sweet, but I told you that I needed time, Jake.”

“I can’t do that,” he huffed, laughing in pain, “you know that. I can’t stay away from you. You drive me crazy.”

“Jake…” you trailed off, looking back at the kitchen. Sunghoon was holding a bag of bagels, staring daggers into Jake.

“You should leave,” you commented, turning back to him, “you can just come over to talk later. When Sunghoon’s not here.”

“Okay,” he said, peeking at Sunghoon, “okay.  I’ll let you know when I’m headed over.”

“Okay,” you nodded at him, leading him to the door, “bye, Jake.”

You shut the door and returned back to the kitchen. Sunghoon was putting your bagel into the toaster, so you went to the fridge to grab out some cream cheese.

Sunghoon was the first to break the silence.

“I don’t like when you two are together.”

You faced him, cream cheese in hand. You set the item down on the counter and stalked your way over to him, touching his arm.

“I don’t feel anything for him, Hoon.”

He furrowed his eyebrows at you, hinting at disbelief.

“Not anymore.”

He nods, turning to face you. He clears his throat, “I understand that, Y/N, but he obviously feels differently for you.”

“I realize that,” you commented, looking away.

“I really want to be with you, Y/N. And, I know that you need time, and I’ll give you all the time that I can for you.”

You nodded, looking back at him.

“But,” he started, getting more serious, “I don’t want him to be a part of your life anymore. He doesn’t know how to control himself.”

“I know,” you admitted, pursing your lips, “but I don’t know how to let him down easy.”

Sunghoon was right. Of course he was. But you were being genuine; if Jake wasn’t going to let up weeks ago, he wouldn’t let up now. Especially because he thought he was so close to having you.

The toaster popped, and you walked over, letting your hand drop from Sunghoon’s arm.

“I’ll do what I can.”

x. IS IT FATE THAT EVEN OUR DEPARTS REPEAT?

You were agonizing over Jake coming over. It was the worst idea ever, but this time you would put an end to everything. The thought of that only soothed your nerves slightly.

When Jake arrived at your apartment, you let out a breath that you didn’t realize you’d been holding in.

“Hey,” you breathed out, opening the door for him.

“Hi,” he said, walking into your home, “everything okay?”

You two walked your way to the living room where there were some drinks laid out for you two. You’d laid out wine again, but this time as a nerve soother rather than something to cause an escalation of actions.

“Yeah, I think.” You said, sitting down on a chair. Jake sat on the couch, the seat closest to you.”

“You think?” Jake questioned, smirking at you.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” you admitted honestly. You took a breath in, “I’m just stressed out, I guess.”

You grabbed your glass of wine from the table and took a drink, watching Jake do the same.

“So,” he started, placing his wine glass down, “what’s up with Sunghoon being here this morning?”

“Oh,” you said, shocked at his bluntness of the topic. He’d just got there and was already getting down to business. You ran a hand through your hair, “I don’t know, we kind of made up. It’s a touchy topic right now.”

“I see,” he commented, taking another drink of his glass of wine, “I’m not sure if I should be happy for you or upset for myself.”

You cleared your throat, “Jake, it really has nothing to do with you.” You took another drink of wine before looking back at him.

“Really, because as I recall, you guys broke it off because of me,” he raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yeah, we did,” you looked at him with confusion, “but us getting back together has nothing to do with you.”

“So what you’re saying is,” he got up and walked towards you, “Sunghoon is afraid of what I can do.”

You also stood up, challenging him, “I wouldn’t say afraid,” you cocked an eyebrow at him, “more so he’s not dumb.”

“Oh, but he’s so dumb,” Jake titled his head at you, a flirty pout appearing on his lips, “because if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have left your apartment today. Now, I get you all to myself.”

God damn this man.

In a rush of lust, he pushed his lips on yours, grabbing your waist. You melted into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. It was absolutely intoxicating.

Jake broke the kiss and held your face close to his, “He can’t make you feel special like I do, baby.”

He returned to your lips, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, slightly tugging it unintentionally.

Just like Sunghoon does.

You separated yourself from Jake almost instantly, removing your arms and backing away. His hands were still on your waist, but you grabbed his wrists, “Jake.”

“What’s wrong, baby?”

“Jake, don’t call me that,” you sighed, “we can’t do this anymore. Seriously.”

He loosened his grip on your waist, and you let go of his wrists. He scoffed, “What? Is it because you’re back with Sunghoon now? You guys aren’t even dating. I thought your bond was no-strings-attached.”

“It was,” you said, “it was. But- but now, I have feelings for Sunghoon. Like real, genuine feelings.”

Jake flared his nostrils. It was subtle, but you still noticed.

“I want to be with him.”

Jake turned his head to the side. A blanket of silence was thrown over the room. The tension was extremely thick, it could be cut with a knife.

A minute later, you heard a voice whisper out, “Am I not good enough for you?”

“What?”

“Y/N, you know I’d do anything for you,” he turned back to you, now louder and more frustrated, tears brimming in his eyes. His face was flushed, “but you never give me a fucking chance to prove it.”

“Jake,” you tried deescalating the situation, “I’ve never felt anything for past lust. You know this. This is the same story as when you tried this months ago, and when you tried this yesterday.”

He said nothing.

You continued, “I can’t keep giving you false hope. You deserve someone who can actually love you. That someone is not me.”

He gulped, once again staying silent. The tears in his eyes became more prevalent. The silence lingered for many minutes too long, the atmosphere becoming more and more suffocating at the second.

“I would do anything for you,” he croaked out, “I don’t think that will ever change.”

His anger had dissipated for now, and he was fighting back a frown.

“I can’t-” his voice cracked, “I can’t stand knowing that you’re not mine, or worse, the fact that you’re with Sunghoon. Every single fucking time I see you with him, I feel like I’m being punched in the gut.”

“I’m sorry,” you swallowed, still processing his words. You knew Jake felt strongly about you, but you had no idea it was this strong. You let yourself be quiet for a second before finding any words to reply with, “I really don’t know what to say.”

He laughed a painful laugh, “…but being punched in the gut never killed anybody.”

He wiped at his eyes, furrowing his eyebrows once more, “I wish that I could spit in your face and tell you that I wish we never met.”

You felt yourself hurt at his words.

“But I know that would be a lie.”

Another silence fell.

“It’ll always be you, Y/N.”

You shook your head slightly, feeling tears brim at your own eyes. You were devastated that you were going through this a second time, but somehow this time, it hurt way more than the first.

“Jake…” you sent a sad look to him.

“My door is always open. For you.”

You felt yourself gulp at his words, finding any strength possible to push away any feelings you had at the moment.

“You should probably leave…”

“Okay,” he accepted, whispering. He walked to your apartment door and you followed him.

“Stay safe, Jake.”

He left. You shut the door, locked it, and immediately leaned your back to it and slid down. Deep down, you knew you’d always have a spot in you that cared for Jake. You had grown fond of him in a platonic way.

But that was the problem. He couldn’t just shut out his feelings for you.

Drowning out your guilt was impossible as felt a large weight make its way onto your chest.

xi. IN THE END, THE ANSWER IS ALWAYS ONLY YOU

It’s been four months since that day.

You’d seen Jake around, a couple times at campus and very rarely at group hang outs.

He always sent you an awkward smile, and you knew deep down that seeing you had killed him many times. Anyone could tell that he never looked at his new girlfriend the same way he looked at you.

The atmosphere around each other was always tense, but because you’d promised Sunghoon, Jake wasn’t really a part of your life anymore.

Sunghoon and Jake’s bond had definitely changed. They didn’t seem like friends anymore, if anything it was a more formal relationship. They acknowledged each other’s presence, but even with the new girlfriend, Sunghoon hadn’t let down his guard with Jake.

In a sense, you missed Ella. She deserved a lot better, and you always agonized over how her absence was your fault. Obviously, Jake had a play in it, but you left all the blame for yourself.

In the past months, you’d felt yourself have a shift in behavior. It was odd, having realized that you’d become more open and caring about the relationships in your life. Ningning had told you that “not having the nonchalant front anymore” looked good on you.

You’d let yourself get a lot closer to her. She was now your best friend, always helping you through your mental struggles and rooting for you. She made sure to be there for you all the time, and she was ecstatic about you and Sunghoon making up.

Sunghoon had asked you to be his girlfriend about three months ago, and you had never been happier to had let your guard down to the man. He made you feel special, and you never once regretted your decision of choosing to keep him by your side rather than Jake.

Jake had stayed the same majorly. At least from what you could tell. His new girlfriend was nice enough to you, but you didn’t really think that he was happy with her. It seemed that he was just trying to fill the void that you’d left in him.

And the most ironic part:

His girlfriend looked strikingly similar to you. She was beautiful, of course, but her personality and appearance had almost mirrored yours completely. Her personality was more similar to the one that you’d had before, the nonchalant, doesn’t-care-about-anyone, slight asshole. Contrary to you, however, she never left his side.

Even with her around, you knew the truth.

Jake’s words still forever rung in your mind:

“It’ll always be you.”

a/n : rrrrrrraaaaahhh it’s done

[merchelsea]

hotel room - charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc + fem!reader

summary: charles decided to rent a room in a hotel that was not associated with f1 to take girls into without causing any drama, but it turns out that asking for extreme discretion on a cheap hotel is not a great idea.

author's note: this is obviously going to have a part two, i'm not a monster to leave you hanging like this

word count: 5,3k

part two

"hello?" you blurted out after a long minute of awkward silence in your hotel room. two men lay on your bed.

at first, you thought they were employees, but it took you exactly ten seconds to realize they weren't. first, because they stood there, just looking at you; second, because people who work in hotels don't typically carry louis vuitton suitcases.

"we didn't ask for room service." one of them told you. he had water-blue eyes, brown hair, a short beard, and a strong french accent.

"this is my room." you replied shortly. they exchanged puzzled glances while you stood there waiting.

"well, surely you got the number wrong. this one is mine." the other man said, showing you his key. the first man was handsome, but the second was exceptionally good-looking.

his green eyes, perfectly brushed brown hair, and the little facial hair he had fit together with the rest of his features, making him one of the most beautiful man you had ever seen. his accent was just as strong. were french men always this good-looking?

the logo on his red t-shirt, which you recognized all too well due to your tifosi brother's passion, left little doubt that he was likely in melbourne for the race.

"i did not" you insisted, showing him your own key. he furrowed his eyebrows and got up from your bed.

"they probably just gave you the wrong key." he had came closer and you handed him your key for him to see.

"no they didn't, i have this confirmed for the past two weeks. room 81 is mine." you had the right room, but so did he. and the worst part is that you both had your ways to prove it.

he looked back at his friend, and the three of you silently thought about what to do.

"call them, they must have an explanation for all of this." the blue-eyed man suggested. "i told you this wasn't a good idea." he mumbled to his friend, and french-number-two proceeded to follow french-number-one's advice.

they picked up immediately, and the ferrari fan asked someone to come. the silence lingered until a blonde woman, dressed in her work attire, entered the room.

"hello, sir. how can i help you?" she glanced you up and down dismissively. you thought, 'Bitch', but refrained from saying it out loud. you looked at the men to see if they had noticed, and french-number-one apparently had.

"we seem to have a complication here," he began. you moved closer, realizing that you were part of the problem too. "it looks like we both got the same room." he pointed at you.

the woman tilted her head to the side. "that's not possible." she said. a smile planted on her lips.

"well, obviously it is." you retorted, delicately handing her your phone for her to see the reservation. "just have one of us moved, please." you needed rest after a twenty-one-hour flight, and dealing with this was not what you had in mind.

"well, miss, that is not my job, but i'm pretty sure my colleagues can’t help you with that either." you and french-number-two stood silent as she explained that the hotel had run out of rooms due to the race happening in melbourne on sunday.

"what do people find so entertaining about this car thing, after all?" you mused aloud as you sat on the bed.

"oh, i don't know," the blue eyed laughed, while the green eyed looked at you, seemingly offended. you closed your eyes for a couple of seconds, trying to collect your thoughts. "well, can you tell your colleagues who deal with this to sort this out? you're not planning on making them share a room, are you?"

"no, sir. i’m sorry. you two can come with me, and i'll take you to talk to someone," she implored, begging them forgiveness with her eyes, though she never glanced your way.

whether she was desperate to get laid or they were important clients to the hotel, you couldn't help but feel enraged. you resisted the urge to scream, "i'm here too," and instead remained silent as you followed her to a more private area of the hotel.

the woman took you to a room that looked like an office, where a brunette sat behind a desk, wearing a superior expression. same expression that faded as soon as she looked the frenchman’s direction.

the blonde left the three of you alone, and the ferrari fan explained the situation to the woman behind the desk. she instructed you to sit, so she could make a call to figure out what happened. so you did, and in silence you heard her fingers press the numbers she intended.

your mind was elsewhere when the man next to you whispered, "what's your name?" his accent so strong that you were sure english wasn't his first language.

"y/n. what’s yours?" you whispered back.

"charles," he replied, his name matching the idea you had of him.

"now i can finally stop calling you french-number-two in my mind." you remarked. he furrowed his brows, and you cursed him for looking so good like this.

"wait, why is pierre french-number-one?" pierre was also a french name, you realized, amused by your accentology.

"he was the first one to talk, and everything about him just screams french." you explained.

"fair point, but I'm actually not french," Charles confessed. you looked at him with curiosity. “i’m monegasque.”

"that makes sense," you replied with a nod, and couldn't help but notice how well the name suited him.

"i’m sorry, i figured out what happened," the woman interrupted, her tone now more professional. "firstly, I would like to apologize to both of you for all of this mess. miss, you reserved and paid for the room two weeks ago, while..." she gestured toward charles. "you called us later. it turns out the person you spoke to that day is a fan of yours and gave you our best room without checking. we are very, very sorry, for this misfortune and we'll do everything we can to provide you with some comfort."

charles and you exchanged glances. you were curious with what she said about a fan, but you decided not to ask. on the other hand, he was preoccupied with how unprofessional this situation was turning out to be.

"well, 'comfortable' would be if we could have separate rooms," the, now known as monegasque, complained.

"that, i cannot offer, but we can transfer one of you to our affiliate hotel, which is an hour and a half from here and offers excellent service quality." anything that didn’t mess things up like this would be great.

both charles and you shook your heads in unison, declining the offer.

"it's too far from where i have to be." you informed her, hoping that charles had plans close to this hotel she talked about.

"exactly, it's too far for me too." he confirmed, and luck seemed to be as far from you as possible, even when you needed the most.

"i'm very sorry, but it appears you'll have to share the room." the woman concluded.

you took a deep breath and left the room before you could say something offensive. charles followed you.

"we can make this work," he said.

"we better." you replied with a sigh.

"i need some sleep too," you groaned when charles asked you to vacate the room until 2 a.m.

"it's friday! why are you planning on sleeping at 6 p.m. on a friday?"

"because i just endured an incredibly long and exhausting flight. i'm desperate for some rest." you explained as you collapsed onto the bed, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"why don't we let you do that now, and then pierre here can pick you up later so I can have the room for a couple of hours? you can sleep as much as you'd like when you return, i promise." charles suggested, making a last offer.

he had given up hope right after revealing his plans to you, mainly due to the disapproving look you gave him. it's not an everyday thing that you're asked to leave your room just because your unexpected roommate wanted to have a girl over.

"i want fresh sheets when i get back." you demanded as you headed to the bathroom to change into more comfortable sleepwear. the monegasque nearly jumped for joy when you agreed to this insanity.

"thank you, thank you, thank you." he repeated numerous times to express his gratitude. you could still hear his excited exclamations inside the private compartment. suddenly, you remembered that you had no idea where you were going.

"pierre can pick me up to go where, exactly?" you raised your voice so they could hear you clearly.

they remained silent for a moment, and you understood that they hadn't thought this through. after all, this was a bad thing for the both of you.

"i know of a few clubs i can take you to, i guess," pierre yelled back, his uncertainty evident in his tone.

"what do you wear to a club in melbourne?"

"something nice, i don't know, i'm not a woman. just wear whatever you wear to a club." you chuckled to yourself and returned to the bedroom.

"okay," you said, facing them again and ready to get some rest. "now, you two french things, get out. i'm going to catch up on some jet lag."

"i'm not french." charles mumbled as he exited the room, followed closely by pierre.

the actual frenchman retorted, "i don't think she cares at the moment."

with that, you found yourself alone, left only with your exhaustion and the comforting embrace of your bed.

you stirred awake, the relentless pounding in your head a cruel reminder of the little sleep you had. slowly, you opened your eyes, and the now familiar blue gaze of pierre greeted you.

"hey," he began with an apologetic tone, "charles insisted i wake you up. i'm sorry."

sleepily, you tried to check the time, scanning the unfamiliar room for a clock, anything to anchor you to melbourne's time zone.

"it's around ten, i think." pierre informed you once he realized what you were trying to do. he settled on the edge of the bed when you decided to sit up. "you need to go get ready, i'll take you to eat something."

"what are you? my body guard?" you smiled to him, still dizzy. the four hours you slept doing nothing but giving you a headache. "i can get my own food pierre."

he quickly shook his head. "charles would murder me." he confesses, his words leaving you puzzled. your groggy expression must have been quite evident. "i think the remorse is kicking in. he even tried to bribe me to stick by your side."

"how thoughtful of him," irony slips through your smile as you speak. "he does realize i would have preferred if he'd just let me sleep instead?"

"his brain has its limits." he lets out a chuckle and you sight, needing much more of that sleep you just woke up from.

dragging yourself out of bed, you clutched your suitcase and shuffled into the bathroom, determined to transform into a club worthy version of yourself.

with time in short supply, you limited your skincare routine to a quick facial cleanse and your trusty hydrating lotion. makeup took you, surprisingly, just a few minutes; you decided to go for a no-makeup, makeup look. the real problem lay in choosing the right outfit.

in your haste, it seemed you had packed either too much or too little to this club. with your birthday at the door, you had plans to party, socialize, and maybe even get a little wild. yet, the occasion left you stuck between a simple cropped top and jeans or your favorite dress, which felt a bit too extravagant.

of course you had tons of clubbing clothes with you, but you couldn't wear those. you soon enough realized they weren't regular people who worked in offices, and now that you knew charles even had fans it was all a lot more complicated. so where do people, who seem to be famous, take the girl that's stuck sharing a room with their friend?

that's when your white skirt caught your eye. it hugged you figure perfectly as if made specifically for you to use it. a quick search revealed the white, long sleeved top you'd thrown into the bag last minute. together, they formed the ideal clothing for the night ahead.

this may not have been part of your initial plans, but you were determined to make the most of it and fulfill your primary goal for this trip — meeting new people.

you step out of the bathroom, fully prepared to head out to wherever pierre decides to take you. he lounges on the bed, engrossed in his phone until you approach and gently pat his knee.

"get up." you instruct him, and his gaze sweeps up and down your body. it's only then that you take notice of his outfit – light blue jeans paired with a simple white shirt. it's casual yet an excellent choice.

you briefly wonder if you might be overdoing, but the thoughts quickly dissipate. "you certainly know how to dress for a night out in melbourne." he says, referencing your previous conversation.

"i wasted a considerable amount of time picking out these clothes," you admit and motion for him to rise so you can tidy the bed.

in a matter of minutes, your suitcase has been stowed away, and your phone now rests securely in your purse.

"what are you in the mood for dinner?" he inquires as you leave the room behind, ensuring everything is clean and ready for charles' girl later.

"anything," you reply, your hand instinctively moving to your stomach. "literally anything, i'm starving." you add, emphasizing your hunger.

"alright then, we’re going for italian" he decides, and you nod in agreement, already imagining the delectable Italian dishes that await, making your stomach growl even louder.

after returning to the room, well past 3 a.m., you tiptoed in to find charles cocooned in the sheets, presumably asleep. you quietly went to your suitcase, took your pajamas, and moved to the bathroom. after changing, you removed all you makeup, getting your face clean before heading out to bed. you hadn't put on that much, but you didn't like to sleep with it.

with hushed movements, you fetched your charger and silenced your phone, choosing to ignore your friend's texts.

the night had exceeded your expectations. initially hesitant when they suggested going out with pierre, who by then was a complete stranger, you eventually embraced the idea of this little escape.

pierre took you to a charming restaurant that couldn't be more your vibe. the ambiance, delicious food, and nice people made it a really great experience. you mentally thanked whatever god made you go out with this french stranger.

after getting to know each other a bit, you both headed to a club where you met a lot of new people, including some of pierre's friends. you couldn't have been happier about skipping that sleep.

as you slipped under the blankets, a voice startled you, "it's past three."

whispering, you responded to charles, "i thought you were asleep."

"i'm not, but it's past three," he repeated, his voice heavy with sleepiness.

"yeah, i know." you said, already nestled comfortably in bed.

"i told pierre to bring you back at two so you could rest; i've been waiting."

"oh, i met some of his friends and stayed a bit longer." you explained, turning your back to him. "are these sheets fresh?"

he chuckled softly, "yes. which friends did you meet?"

"a lot of people which i can't remember the names now. his girlfriend kika, a goddess. and some guy named lindo, landon, i think that's his name." you replied, still unsure of the pronunciation.

charles laughed at your attempt, "his name is lando. no 'i' or 'n'"

"not too far off," you quipped.

"if you say so..."

"oh, I have a question for you," you turned to face him, even if the room was in absolute darkness and you couldn't see a thing. "what do you guys work with? there were bodyguards and security procedures all night. i couldn't understand a damn thing."

an "oh" lingers in the air for a while. this was a topic the monegasque wanted to avoid as much as possible. he knew that you would figure it out, eventually, he just wanted to stick with "charles, the normal (french) dude" for a little longer.

"we're formula one drivers," he confesses. you burst into laughter. "i'm serious. i drive for ferrari, and pierre drives for alpine."

"shut up! you know lewis hamilton in person?" you didn't know much about motorsports, but c'mon, everyone knows lewis. "i do, actually." he's puzzled about why that was your first question.

"i recognized the logo on your shirt earlier. my brother's a fan, but i thought you were here just to watch the race."

"in a way, i am, just from a different perspective," he jokes. "how's your brother going to react when you tell him you're sharing a room with charles leclerc?"

"go back to sleep, charles leclerc." you tease, struggling to pronounce his name correctly.

"don't ever try that again." he laughs, turning his back to you.

"oh shut up." you playfully retorted.

you found yourself leaping onto your bed without bothering to check if charles was already there as night fell. meeting new people was exciting, but reuniting with old friends held a special charm. reconnecting with people ranked in the top three of your favorite things to do, even though it could be quite exhausting.

to be totally fair, you were tired because of the entire week you had just gone through. completing 26 out of 43 items on your bucket list was not easy, but you managed it all within a week and a day.

sharing the room with charles turned out to be much more enjoyable than expected. he was not only a genuinely nice guy but also a source of constant entertainment. when you went to bed, boredom was never an option as charles would introduce you to new games you'd never heard of and make you learn them to play with him.

it was really easy to get along with him, and you understood that as time passed and you were getting closer. sharing a room became something you no longer detested.

suppressing the urge to surrender to sleep, you got up to change and the next moments blurred together. all you could recall was your roommate entering a little while after you.

that’s until, in the middle of the night, your phone erupted with numerous notifications.

“geez, are you famous or something?” charles mumbled, awakened by the noise.

“it’s on your side, please turn it down." you groaned, covering your ears with a pillow. he reached for your phone but accidentally read one of the 47 notifications.

"happy birthday? is it your birthday?" he asked.

you buried your face in the pillow as more notifications poured in. "just turn that down," you demanded. "I love my friends, but this is too much." you knew they were doing it on purpose because of the lack of communication. this was their way of reminding you that you couldn’t be rid of them for so much time.

“it’s your birthday?” he inquired, sitting up.

“yeah, officially 22 now!” you replied, cursing the friends responsible for your rude awakening. exhausted, you had forgotten that your 6-hour nap was meant to be a quick one.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” charles exclaimed, throwing himself into an enthusiastic yet somewhat ungraceful hug. you laughed and thanked him. "why didn't you mention it earlier?"

“it didn’t come up.” you said, returning the hug.

"and do you have any plans for today?" he asked, returning to his original position.

"not really. i thought i might visit some places here in melbourne," you answered, rubbing your eyes.

"do you want to come watch the race then? consider it my birthday gift. if you'd mentioned it earlier, i would've prepared something better." the driver offered.

"i suppose the tickets must be sold out. have you seen how many people are here these past few days? there are no rooms since last week." you informed him.

"and you think I'd let you watch from the stands? no way. you'll… i mean, you would be in the Ferrari garage." he said with conviction.

"that sounds boring." you complain.

"is that a yes?" he asked, seeing a glimmer of a smile in your eyes. "i'll do my best to win, just for you."

“isn’t that your job?” you teased.

"yes, but doing it for you adds a little extra pressure," he admitted. you nodded in agreement, and he reclined again. "now, go to sleep. tomorrow is your big day."

"big day," you mimicked in a comical male voice, turning on your side. "thank you, charles."

"yeah, no problem." he replied. you couldn’t see him now, but you knew he was wearing a smile, and it made you smile too.

"wake up." you heard, your senses slowly returning. as you opened your eyes, you found kika, pierre's girlfriend, looking down at you.

what is it with people waking you up? it's always someone new.

"hey. it's time to get ready." even though your head was a big question mark, you did as she asked and sat up. she sat right before you.

"did charles sent you?" you inquired.

"no, he just told me you'd be coming to the race and since we've met that other night, i thought i would come to make you some company." she replied with a warm smile. "happy birthday, girl." she opened her arms for you and you embraced her immediately.

"thank you." you murmured into the hug. "do you want to get ready together?" you proposed. "i'm going to need some guidance."

"of course." her smile was the most beautiful one you had ever seen and it made your heart melt. "i'll just have to leave you alone with all the birthday wishes to get something to wear, and i'll be back soon."

"okay, see you in a bit." as she left, the first thing you did was grab your phone and start replying the overwhelming (and exaggerated) number of messages from your friend group. after that, you called your brother, not only because he asked so but also to let him know where you would be spending the day.

when kika returned, you were on the phone with your mother, crying your heart out. she loved you so much, and her words never failed to touch your soul.

"i love you too, mum." you whispered and ended the call. francisca smiled at you from the other side of the room. "come on, let's get ready." you wiped away your tears and got up from the bed.

yesterday, while charles slept peacefully, your mind had traveled through your current wardrobe to find the perfect outfit to wear. you knew it had to be ferrari red, but it also needed to make you feel special because it was your birthday.

in the end, you chose the red dress you had recently purchased. it seemed perfect for the occasion. as you shuffled through your clothes to retrieve it, kika had a chance to admire the piece.

"oh my god, that dress is going to look so good on you." she exclaimed excitedly and you both smiled as you made your way to the bathroom.

kika opted for a white button-up oversized shirt paired with pink pants that you discovered matched the colors of alpine's livery. She looked gorgeous, as always.

as you expected, your dress fell amazingly on you body, and it was incredibly comfortable. it wasn't an overly extravagant party dress, but it was just right for special occasions like your birthday.

"so, tell me what's charles doing here." the brunette asked when you both started getting your faces ready for make-up.

"charles?" she confirmed, and you glanced at your reflection in the mirror, somewhat oblivious to what she was referring to. "what's he doing here?" she repeated the question. "sleeping?" you half-answered, half-asked.

"yeah, of course, but why is he sleeping here." your eyes met hers through the mirror, and you noticed the smile on her lips.

"because it's his hotel room too, i guess."

"pierre told me that, but why is he still sleeping in this room if he has the one ferrari got him? he has one, doesn't he?" she asked.

"i don’t know." the truth was, you hadn't even thought about it. the monegasque had never told you, and you never asked, so you assumed this was indeed his only room.

"okay i’ll try again. what's going on between you two?" she smiled at you, a knowing look in her eyes.

"nothing," you replied as quickly as the question got to you. "seriously, tell me. you can trust me." she persisted, trying to get something out of you.

"i am telling you, kika." you laughed. in her mind, it was obvious that something was going on because there was no way the charles leclerc she knew would trade a king-sized bed in a five-star hotel for a cheap one he'd have to share.

"are you seriously telling me there's nothing going on between you two when he ditched a rich and attractive model for you, is lying to his team to come sleep in this room when he probably has a much better one waiting for him every night, and hasn't been bar-hopping to stay here teaching you how to play chess? Not to mention that he's taking you to a race to meet his team and friends. do you know how many girls he took to watch a race?" the portuguese counted on her fingers dramatically, as if accusing you of a proper crime.

you continued doing your makeup as she spoke, but you didn't miss a single word. in fact, you paid close attention to everything she said, the words penetrating your bones and getting to your brain automatically.

"yes, i am telling you that." you began and she sighed in response. "what do you mean he ditched a hot model for me?" curiosity filled your body when you heard that, you had to ask.

"that first night when we met, i know he was supposed to meet up with her because she was also a friend of mine, but he didn't show up. when i asked pierre about it, the only thing he said was your name." your face displayed confusion as you applied some contour to your cheek. you stoped what you were doing right away.

you were confused, yes. but you were also slightly irritated, because if the driver hadn't gone to meet that model, you could have slept through the night and avoided the exhausting day that followed.

"i assumed you guys had fancied each other, like love at first sight or something." you shook your head to deny it and picked up your pencil to blend the previously applied contour.

"that did not happen." another sigh left her throat and a question lingered in the tip of your tongue, ready to come out as soon as you opened your mouth. you weren't sure if you should ask, but you were certain you wanted an answer. "the thing you said about the number of girls he took to a race. how many?"

her lips immediately curved as if she said 'nothing may have happened, but you are interested', and of course you were.

who wouldn't be? charles was majestic, a genuinely good guy who knows how to treat people right, and he looked like the most adorable person in the world while sleeping. you would be lying if you said you didn't find him attractive, but he appeared too friendly for you to believe that he even considered flirting with you.

"two, and they were his girlfriends at the time." the smile never left her lips, but your mind was far from her grin.

you eventually finished getting ready, and so did she, a few seconds after. you chatted the whole way to the paddock, only stopping to catch your breath. kika apologized to you for pressing you to tell her what she wanted to hear, but you didn't mind; you knew you would do the same if the roles were reversed.

your social anxiety flared up when francisca had to go in a different direction to reach the alpine garage, but it quickly dissipated when your eyes found a familiar face approaching you with a smile.

charles hugged you once he was close enough and whispered a quiet "hey." he was well aware of how risky it was to show affection in public, especially with all the shit press would give him and possibly even give you. let's just say that he didn't really care.

he guided you to the garage, where you met carlos sainz, his teammate, and bumped into lando, whom you had met on your first night in australia.

meeting lando brought back all the thoughts kika had shared earlier, and those thoughts stayed with you.

charles must have mentioned your birthday to his team because every person you passed by wished you a happy day. you graciously smiled and thanked them, walking by his side.

he briefly introduced you to everything you needed to know and hugged you goodbye when he had to go. you snapped a lot of pictures to send to your brother, and when the race started, you paid close attention to every moment.

the headphones made it harder to zone out as you normally would but you appreciated that. being new to this world, you didn't understand a single word you heard, but that didn't stop you from trying.

all you knew was that the team was incredibly pleased with charles and carlos's performance today. It was evident from their tone and the broad smiles on their faces.

the spark in their eyes intensified when charles overtook the last driver, securing his lead in the race. from what someone told you, a first and fourth-place finish was a significant achievement for scuderia ferrari, and you could know it was true by the fans' excitement.

both ferrari drivers managed to maintain their positions, finishing the race with what appeared to be an outstanding result. you weren't entirely sure what you were cheering for, but you were genuinely happy.

you celebrated with the team and watched the podium ceremony from a distance, still uncertain about where you should be and how to act. you applauded the number 16 and engaged in discussions about his performance with people who had a stake in the matter. from what you heard, he was a really good driver.

people all around you started to move to one direction, and you followed them with your gaze to find the one and only race winner already looking at you. he paused to chat and celebrate with his team, before moving up to you.

opening your arms for him, you embraced him, smiling from ear to ear, genuinely happy for his achievement, even if you didn't fully grasp the significance of a win.

"this one was for you. happy birthday." he whispered in your ear while still holding you close. "thank you, frenchie, and congratulations." you laughed into his shoulder. he playfully protested against your nickname for him but couldn't help but laugh too.

you were engrossed in conversation with him when suddenly, pierre and kika arrived with a cake. everyone in the tifosi garage began singing the "happy birthday" song.

your cheeks flushed, matching the color of your dress within seconds, and you covered your smile with your hands. you were genuinely grateful for these people who didn't even know you but were singing and clapping for you.

the cake they brought was adorned with all your favorite flowers, and now you understood charles' early morning question. as if he could read your thoughts, he approached you, smiling, and hugged you sideways while still singing with his weird accent.

pierre had came closer and at the end of the song you were able to blow out the candles. the smiles on their faces enchanted you, how they all seemed genuinely happy for you, even though it was the first time they had set their eyes on you.

they arranged a table in which pierre placed the cake, and someone handed you a knife to cut it. you, of course, offered the first slice to charles, not only because he knew you best but also because of everything he had done for you. all of this exceeded your expectations.

when you had decided to come to australia to spend some time alone, you could never have imagined what awaited you. not only did you meet new people, but you had also made friends, or at least one friend.

[dunmeshi-darlings]

Hello! It's good to hear that your request are open again!

If my idea isn't of your interest please just skip thi n.n

What about some comfort headcanons or imagines of Kabru and/or Laios X Reader who is scared of loud noises such as thunder or fireworks?

Thanks for your time!

Oh dear anon i would never skip an ask! i love everyone elses ideas, and just because something may not be a situation im particularly into doesnt mean i wont do it! i want other people to enjoy these posts. Truth be told dear anon im the same way, i hate fireworks and sudden loud popping noises. In fact, Ballons possibly popping makes me so nervous i get sick from the anxiety of it alone when simply near them. But enough of that, lets show some love. Going to go with kabru since our favorite little manipulator doesnt get enough love.

When you first Joined Kabru's party he had already had already gathered some basic information about you. He had heard nothing but average things from others about you and through his own digging he figured you would be a perfect addition to his group.

However He took notice when The group was travelling a Large brick had come undone and smashed into the ground. The resounding sudden loud noise caused you to jump slightly. He didnt react to it but took a mental note, He had seen you face monsters just fine but this sudden loud noise cause you to jump. He would need to look into it more.

Sure enough the more he watched you the more he noticed this pattern, if it was storming out and lightning struck, you always flinched at the thunder. He would watch you tense up and try to not jump whenever fireworks were going off. They were small details most people would miss, but between who kabru is as a person as well as the interest he seemed to have taken in you meant that he noticed every little minute detail.

One day as a particularly mean storm begins to roll in you start prepping yourself, you knew this was going to be miserable but you didnt want to let anyone know about this. You know if mickbell found out he would probably tease you endlessly about it. However you are surprised when kabru hands you a pair of ear muffs.

"Here, I figured out you were afraid of loud noises so at our last stop i decided to get you some of these to help out. " Kabru says smiling handing them to you, you look at him shocked at this. you can feel your face grow warm, having hoped that nobody would have noticed. But of course kabru did, it was kabru, this man notices everything.

You put them on and breath a sigh of relief as while you feel the thunders rumble, you dont hear it and you can feel the tension release from your body. as the storm passes by you eventually take the ear muffs off and tell him thank you, but ask why he did it?

"your part of my team, and i look out for my team. And besides...i find you fascinating and i hate seeing you upset. Im sure you have a reason to hate loud noises, i wont pry until your ready."

Kabru says softly, gently punching your shoulder causing you to chuckle softly and smile. Gosh, kabru was an interesting guy to say the least. You werent sure how you felt about being "Studied" like this...but the more you thought of him doing it the less you minded.

[stardewvalleybut-i-draw]

Can u give me ur full thoughts on Alex? I feel like a lot of the shit he gets is unjustified. Yeah he says some sus things to the farmer (no matter what gender you are!) but that's only because he's horribly mislead. The man just doesn't know any better. I mean think about it. Abused and neglected, lacking good male role models, and he's got no friends in town except for maybe Haley and you know how she is. If she was told "you're probably not into sports" she'd say "ew no" because sports would get her all dirty.

I always saw him as just a loner-type guy who doesn't know how to talk to people. Spent too much time trying to develop his cringe ass macho man persona that he forgot to develop social skills. I don't think that makes him a bad person though. I could honestly talk for hours about how toxic masculinity is a monster that preys on young boys and eats them alive if they're not careful. But even with societal pressure being so intense, growth is possible. Alex is still a massive sweetie in my eyes. A big dumb doofus who loves his granny and wants to lift heavy things just to impress you.

I would love your thoughts though!!

#1 Alex fan anon ⚡️

Yeah. That's basically more or less my thoughts😅

It honestly depends on what you experience that can greatly color Alex's character

This might be one of my more controversial takes

(right next to being a Clint apologist💀)

but stick with me here-

If you grow up in a similar environment to most guys, you can understand why Alex is the way they are. It's not exactly easy to be soft or mindful when you have a harsh environment around you. Many guys end up coping with repressed thoughts and feelings in unique ways to soothe themselves. I think Alex's was sports. (Idk just a hunch) but it often leads to a lot of blind spots or misunderstandings of the world.

I've seen a lot of people like Alex and I've had a couple of friends in high school like that too! And I can tell you... yeah... it comes from SOMEWHERE, A lot of them ain't doing so great mentally.

Heck, I do that! Whenever I get uncomfortable with a situation or feelings I don't like, I make jokes to ease my brain. Releses a little serotonin ya know what I mean?

Not all coping mechanisms are bad tho, we kinda have our own form of bond and support that from the outside looks cold and uninviting but I promise you, we would die for our brothers. (plus the cold uninviting part is just a front)

"I know the homie told us to KYS over Roblox but he bought the group Freebirds during the gym session so it's all good!"/j

I can't say much from the other perspective but I would assume they would see Alex as a HUGE BIG RED flag and someone potentially dangerous or someone who brings back bad memories which is why he is dunked on so much. Even if they don't mean it, they have a higher chance of hurting people.

I don't think Alex is THAT type of character at all, I think he has good intentions but as you said "no social skills". I can see why others would interpret that way though.

It's funny that you mention how Alex doesn't have many female role models cuz... you have

Haley- Lazy and super not into dirt.

His mom- got sick and DIED.

Granny Evelyn- frail weak old woman who makes cookies and tends to flowers.

Those are not exactly SUPER GREAT examples of women who like sports.

Personally, I get why people say that playing a male farmer is better for Alex's story arc along with confronting George about the whole being gay thing but I think the female farmer has elements that I don't think are acknowledged much.

From my perspective anyway, I think a Fem farmer shows Alex a better example of women and what they can do VS grandma, dead mom, and Haley... along with learning boundaries and how better cope with repressed feelings and MAYBE-

-even address the fear of the farmer DYING of a sickness just like his mom or the intrusive thoughts of believing he'll end up like his father making him overprotective and paranoid about the farmers well being...

but you can ignore that...

Idk man, that's just the way I view it. You either like Alex or you don't :/

I ain't saying anyone's wrong to feel the way they do

[freelancearsonist]

el chico del apartamento 512

➔ Frankie Morales x gn!Reader - 1.6k

➔ There's a rumor going around your building about the resident of apartment 512, and you're eager to investigate.

➔ Rated PG-13 for allusions to sex but otherwise just some plain old fluff and fun. post movie canon wife and kid erasure sorry, takes place in colombia, both reader and frankie speak spanish and everything is translated.

➔ this is my entry for the Selena Drabble Challenge hosted by mi esposa @fhatbhabie <3 sorry i've been sitting on this forever hehe but i hope you enjoy

Frankie barely manages to pull himself out of the slump he’s in for the first year or so after the absolute disaster in the Andes.

He misses his family, misses his friends, misses his crew–his brothers. He tries to convince himself that it’s for the best, that it’s only a matter of time before those assholes who were in cahoots with Lorea come after him–that the people he loves will be safer and happier if he’s not around them when it happens. And most of the time he can block all that sadness and pain out by throwing his whole mind and body into the earnest construction job he picks up in this new town within this new country. But it catches up to him late at night in dreams and quiet whispers of intrusive thoughts; that he’s a coward for abandoning the ones that needed him most, that he could’ve done more to make that damned mission less of a disaster. That he could’ve come out of it rich and happy if he wasn’t such a fuck-up.

He wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, an ache so deep in his chest that it feels like he’s been shot. He clutches at his sternum and tries to catch his breath but he can’t. His body wracks with sobs and he knows he’ll never be okay again.

But somehow, he ends up okay anyway. Somehow, he falls back to sleep just to repeat the cycle the next day.

There’s a rumor going around amongst your neighbors that apartment 512 is haunted.

People hear things–weird things. Screaming, crying, banging–and always at the dead of night. And everyone swears up and down that they’ve never seen the guy who supposedly lives there. The people who say they have seen him get more dramatic with their descriptions every time–toweringly tall, shoulders that could stand up to a wrecking ball, hauntingly sad eyes and gaunt face. It’s like he’s a thing of legend–a story they tell their kids to make sure they behave. “Don’t run in the halls or the guy from apartment 512 will get you.”

You figure he’s probably just some guy who works long hours and likes to watch horror movies to unwind or something–not a monster or a ghost, just misunderstood. You haven’t seen the guy yourself, but you kinda like him anyway. The building’s certainly been a lot quieter since he moved in… well, everywhere except his own apartment, at least. 

You find yourself keeping a more vigilant eye out, alert to any face in the building that doesn’t look familiar. It seems kinda silly to want to see someone you don’t know, but you’re a little nosy and a little more than curious. If there’s some truth to the rumors that have been going around by the people who claim to have seen him, you want to find out for yourself.

It’s a completely ordinary night when you notice an unfamiliar face in the mailroom, and you have to do a double take. This stranger is handsome–tall and dark with shaggy brown hair and an even shaggier patch of stubble across his jaw.

He’s just standing there, staring blankly at a row of mailboxes, looking so… foreboding. You approach slowly, cautiously; part of you thinks you should just walk away and let this man do whatever he’s doing. But there’s a large, louder part of you that approaches with curiosity. There’s just something about him that draws you in, that makes you put on your best smile and ask, “Señor? Necesitas ayuda?” (Do you need help, sir?)

He blinks slowly, heavily, and then dark brown eyes flicker towards you.

“Oh!” He clears his throat and it’s like he’s coming back from an out of body experience–the color returns to his face, his eyes lose that glassy sheen, and his posture loosens a bit. He looks friendly now, sheepish even. He wrings his big hands and shifts on his feet, as if he’s been caught at a vulnerable moment. “Lo siento, estaba en la nube.” (Sorry, I was spacing out.)

“Está bien,” you tell him with your most disarming smile. “Andas buscando algo?” (It’s okay. / Are you looking for something?)

“No, solo estoy recopilando mi correo,” he rumbles before flashing you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen in your life. (No, I’m just getting my mail.)

He fishes through his pockets and finds a small silver key–and then he inserts it into the box labeled “512”.

“Tú vives en el apartamento 512?” There’s a strange air of reverence in your voice despite trying to hide it. This is the guy everyone’s been talking about, and he doesn’t seem nearly as monstrous as everyone tried to make him sound. (You live in apartment 512?)

“Uhhh… sí?” He chuckles and looks over to you, and you can see the way his brow furrows at the look of shocked surprise on your face.

You realize you’re actually gaping open-mouthed at the poor guy, and you snap your mouth closed as soon as you see the little crease between his brows deepen. Not soon enough for it to go unnoticed, though–the corner of his mouth flickers up in a pseudo-smirk, and god he’s handsome.

“No hemos tenido la oportunidad de conocernos aún.” You look up at him and give your best, winning smile as you give him your name. There’s a strange, fluttery feeling in your stomach as his dark eyes meet yours–have you mentioned how handsome he is? (We haven’t had the chance to meet yet.)

“Mucho gusto,” he says with a smile. “Soy Frankie. Supongo que vives en el edificio también?” (Nice to meet you. / I’m Frankie. I’m guessing you live in the building too?)

“Oh, sí,” you say with a slight laugh. “No soy ningún tipo de acosador, vivo en el apartamento 526.” (Oh, yes. / I promise I’m not some kind of creep, I live in apartment 526.)

And then you catch his eyes dragging along your form, not even the least bit subtle, and you try your best to be nonchalant about the way you have to lean against the wall to avoid melting into a puddle on the mailroom floor; especially when you see those full lips of his curve into a smile, and you know he’s liking what he’s seeing.

“Nah, no creo que seas un acosador,” he hums–and there’s that damned smirk again. If you don’t get out of here you’re going to start drooling. (I don’t think you’re a creep.)

He grabs two letters from his mailbox, examines the envelopes, and then unceremoniously dumps them both into the trashcan in the corner with a mumbled, “Malditas estafas por correo.” (Damn junk mail.)

“Eso es lo único que recibo ahora también,” you tell him sympathetically. (That’s all I get anymore too.)

He brushes past you slightly as he moves to the door, and you get a whiff of distinctly woody cologne that makes your heart pick up a beat. You try to act normal and go to open your own mailbox, but he stops in the narrow doorway and leans against the jam to look at you.

“Te volveremos a ver aquí?” (Will I see you around again?)

You think the rumors about him were right, at least a little bit. He’s towering and imposing–he fills the entire doorway with ease. He’s firm and broad and sturdy and big. Maybe he would be intimidating to someone else, but all you can think about is climbing him like a tree.

“Sí. Puedes verme cuando tú quieras.” (You can see me whenever you want to.)

His eyes flicker indecisively for a moment, and then he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “Qué tal viernes por la noche?” (What about Friday night?)

You try not to focus on how you want him to bite into you like that as you tell him, “Sí, eso sería perfecto.” (Yes, that would be perfect.)

“Perfecto. Te veré luego.” And then he flashes you that damned adorable boyish smile again before he retreats from the mailroom. You think he’s going to be trouble for you. (Perfect. I’ll see you then.)

The monthly building meeting is Saturday morning, and you’re glad to see Frankie’s decided to join in finally. Everyone throws curious looks his way as he walks through the room towards where you’re seated, but no one is curious or brave enough to ask who he is.

“Buenos días, querida,” he murmurs, discreetly ghosting a kiss against your cheek as he drops into the seat beside yours. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as they trail over your outfit: the same one you wore to dinner last night, the same one you picked up off his bedroom floor this morning and shoved on hastily to get to this meeting in time. (Good morning, dear.)

Before you get a chance to respond, your neighbor from across the hall plunks down in the seat on your other side.

“Escuchaste ese ruido anoche?” She asks, sounding more amused than annoyed. (Did you hear that noise last night?)

“Qué ruido?” You ask with a raised brow. (What noise?)

She smirks with satisfaction, like she knows something you don’t. And then she looks pointedly between you and Frankie. “Suena como si nuestro fantasma en el apartamento 512 hubiera conseguido un socio para él.” (It sounds like our ghost in apartment 512 got himself a partner.)

You nearly choke on your own tongue, but Frankie just chuckles raspily and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He learned all about the rumors from you last night over dinner, and he thinks they’re hilarious. Besides, they’ll die out soon enough anyway–he’s never slept quite as peacefully as he did last night in your arms–if he doesn’t feed them a little bit. And if feeding the rumors means keeping you moaning and groaning the way he did last night, he can’t say he minds it one bit.

➔ beta: @shakespeareanwannabe; dividers: @saradika-graphics

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[lightningidle]

A thought about Gerard’s scene in Episode 18, which is: Elody watches the conversation between Gerard and Rapunzel.

                                                    ——————

Princess Elody is a tactical motherfucker, so even when these cool young women approach her and say all the right things, things that make sense, she doesn’t fully buy in. Not at face value.

When they talk about princes, it’s somehow both completely flippant and with caustic derision — like these young men were props meant to move the plot along, sole owners of agency in stories that weren’t even titled after them. (Elody wonders about their treatment of the princes as the fairies’ deux es machina, wonders about how easy it is to “kill a lot of princes” as Snow White explains. And by their own logic, how likely is it, really, that the princes are cardboard cutouts if Cinderella is so sure her stepmother, not even royalty, has her own book?)

There’s evidence to the contrary of this in her story specifically, which she has no trouble recounting. There’s no way her prince was meant to pacify her into an idyllic life, because he’s a layabout! He’s unreliable! And sure, he’s charming and fun, yes, he tried to pull her away from the war table, but that wasn’t because of any scheming to get her to stay in line, it was just because he wanted attention. He’s frivolous, he’s not a monster, she says. She’s so passionate in her defense of Gerard’s personhood that she almost misses the shared look of the princesses, the glint in Rapunzel’s eye.

Let us show you, Rapunzel says, what a monster looks like.

The scrying ritual is completed quickly and without fuss. Rapunzel stares into a mirror that ripples like water, and then, on the other side, there he is. More froglike than he’s ever been.

“You’re a prince, friends are probably pretty expendable, right? How many friends have you really had, other than Elody?”

Now hold on, Elody wants to say, that’s goading him. That’s not fair. Cinderella puts a firm hand on her shoulder and shakes her head no, to stay quiet, to wait it out. Elody bites her tongue and waits for Gerard to prove one of them right.

“Your friends seem to really value you as a person. I’m sure it’s a comfort to know that they’re not just sort of putting up with you because you’ll tag along and swing your sword, prove a little bit useful.”

Gerard has snowball fights with his friends. He has friends? He has a dedicated workout buddy? She’s not sure he’s ever been dedicated to anything, except for gossip... or her. Now that she thinks about it, he has always been unquestionably devoted to her, hasn’t he?

“I have seen some titanic feats of strength from my companions the Beast, Cinderella, Snow White. Truly impressive acts of heroism.

I do not think I have seen any of my sisters strain more greatly than the Princess Elody to find something kind to say about you.”

Elody does open her mouth to speak this time, which turns out to be a huge mistake when a writhing mass of knotted hair wraps around the lower half of her face. Not to constrict, only to silence. A pit forms in her stomach at the thought that Rapunzel might not be lying, that in trying to defend Gerard she only condemned the worst of him.

“Yes... I don’t... I don’t doubt that.”

Her heart breaks for the second time.

“But I haven't seen the Princess Elody in a while, and I think it's telling that I'm seeing you in this lake and not her or any of the other princesses. I think you’re... manipulating people, or not telling them the full truth.”

Her eyes dart to the other princesses. Snow White’s expression remains unchanged, though Cinderella’s darkens slightly. When Rapunzel speaks again, it does not escape Elody’s notice that she doesn’t acknowledge what Gerard pointed out; she deflects. Elody is getting angrier, now, tugging at the hair around her jaw, hardly even hearing the next bit until a third voice speaks up, says the Princess Elody cares for you deeply.

“Not quite the same thing.”

“It's not, but seeing as the last thing she saw of me was me running away after I had already done that, I’m grateful that she still cares for me at all.”

The hair gathering around her tenses. Elody was brought here to see that, when Gerard thought nobody else could hear, he would prove himself to be just an agent of the fairies, or an empty vessel, or a selfish monster. What she’s seeing is none of those things. But she’s also not seeing the man she knew as her husband: he’s grown and changed, almost become someone else entirely. She wants to call out to Gerard. She wants to get to know him all over again.

“Gerard,” Rapunzel hisses, “what do you think the odds are that it got into Elody's head that the virtuous thing to do was to fall in love with a cold and slimy frog, and that every kindness she has paid you in your life has been a testament to her charity, rather than anything about you that would bring her joy?”

Elody freezes.

“I don't know that I can answer that.”

“It doesn’t seem very fair to Elody that you can’t.” 

“... I agree.”

The image in the mirror of the man who will never be a man again ripples and vanishes. Elody’s hands have fallen away from the hair around her face, which is convenient, as she finds herself suddenly holding a book. The hair recedes, and she doesn’t register what it is Rapunzel is saying to try and placate her, because the book in her hands is a slim volume, bound in her favorite shade of green and embossed in golden ink.

On the front is the title — The Princess Elody.

[wheredafandomat]

The Creature Beneath

Written by @wheredafandomat and @simplyholl 🖤

Summary: You inherit the creepy lakefront property that's been in your family for generations. There's only one problem- the monster that has terrorized the property for years. Is the legend true? Is there really a monster under the surface?

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. 18+ Only. Minors DNI.

Contains lyrics from “Dreams” by Fleetwood Mac

Whore-O-Ween Masterlist

You heard the legend your whole life, about the creature that lived in the lake on your grandparents’ property. You and your cousins weren’t allowed to go near it growing up. Your dad and all his siblings could say the same.

It was like that for generations. Your great aunt Irene had seen something out there when she was eighteen and nobody believed her at the time. Her family wrote it off as her wild imagination.

But she wouldn’t let it go. Her sister, your great grandmother Hazel, shared a room with her. One night Irene woke up in a trance and walked outside to the lake. Hazel followed her, begging her to stop. But it was too late. When Irene reached the water’s edge, a horrible, giant monster emerged. He grabbed her ankle, dragging her into the water with him.

Hazel jumped in to save her, but they disappeared. She ran inside to get help. People searched for days before Irene’s body was found. Everyone agreed that Hazel had been half asleep and only imagined the creature to cope with her sister’s death.

Irene had been sleepwalking and drown in the lake. Hazel knew the truth. When she and her husband inherited the land, they vowed to never let the creature hurt anyone else. They could never sell the property. Anyone wanting to buy it would never believe them. It was too dangerous.

So they kept the property in the family. Your father was the oldest child, so he got it after your grandparents’ deaths. He decided to sign it over to you. You were an only child who still lived with your parents. He told you it was time for you to be on your own. You spent two weeks cleaning the house and moving your belongings in. When it finally looked how you wanted, your dad was ready to leave.

You walk him to his car. He gives you a hug, placing a kiss on top of your head. “What’s the only rule?” He asks as if you were still a child, not a fully grown woman. “Stay away from the lake.” You roll your eyes, like you could ever forget that. “I mean it.” He says seriously before driving away.

You always thought your dad’s side of the family was out of their minds. Irene was a young girl with nothing to do. She was probably bored and made the creature up. It was definitely a sleepwalking accident. Hazel was so horrified by seeing her sister jump in, that she went along with Irene’s creature story.

You would never tell your dad that you didn’t believe the legend. You always loved this house. It was huge with a large backyard and the lake was beautiful, even though the grass was grown up all around it from years of neglect. You spot the lawn mower in the garage, taking it down to the lake. You know your dad would overreact if he knew you were down here.

But you wanted your new home to be perfect. You start the machine attempting to cut the grass. You turn it off quickly, glancing over your shoulder. You could have sworn you heard someone call your name. You look at the lake, there’s no way you heard what you thought. You’re just nervous because you weren’t supposed to be over here.

You start mowing again, looking all around you the whole time. You finish without another incident. When night falls, you sit down at your desk by the window. It overlooks the lake. You were surprised your grandparents didn’t have the window removed so they wouldn’t have to see it every day.

You call your mom to tell her you went to the lake in an attempt to clean up. She always thought your dad and his family were silly for believing it. There haven’t been any more sightings of the creature since Irene and Hazel. You giggle over the secret you both share. “It’s not even that creepy. I think we should build a deck and we could swim in the summer. It’s really a waste leaving it abandoned after all this time.”

You look up, something moving outside catches your eye. You see a naked man with dark curls walking around by the water. “Mom, stay on the phone with me. I just saw a guy out here.” You find your dad’s old baseball bat in the hallway closet. You walk outside clutching it to your chest. You’re unsure of what you would do if you actually saw him out here.

You walk around and find nothing. You go back inside, still on the phone. You check every closet, under every bed to make sure the man didn’t come into the house. You lock all the doors and latch all the windows. After tossing and turning all night, you finally fall asleep dreaming of a beautiful man calling for you.

The following day passed quietly. You tried to ignore the unsettling feeling that lingered in your stomach at the reminder of the previous night. Your mother was still worried, she had every right to be. You assured her all was well, despite how little you believed that. You managed to get a couple of officers to do a quick check around the property.

They confirmed no one was there. They assured you were safe, and that was enough for your mom to stop calling you once every hour. As the evening began to draw in, you forgot about the events of last night. The unsettling feeling was replaced by hunger, so you decided to make dinner.

Whilst in the kitchen, you turned the radio on as you cooked, singing along to some of the songs and swaying your hips. Yesterday was completely forgotten under the security blanket of Fleetwood Mac and pasta. Just as you started playing your food, the radio began to glitch. A loud, static sound replaced the lyrics of “Dreams.” You tried hitting it to get it to work again, but it didn’t help. Sighing, you roll your eyes before catching a sight of a figure outside. Yelping, you blink before it disappeared, the radio returning back to normal.

“Now here I go again I see the crystal vision”

Considering whatever you saw had now disappeared, you blamed it on the sleep deprivation. You kept reminding yourself that the police said they couldn’t find anything. You were safe. But you couldn’t help glancing out if the window every now and then, almost hoping to spot something. You needed solid proof to call the police again, solid proof of something out there to ensure you weren’t going crazy.

You didn’t bother washing the dishes or finishing your food before you headed upstairs in need of a relaxing bath. You wanted to just put everything behind you. You were certain a hot bath and a long sleep was just the trick. You dip your fingers into the water wanting to test the temperature before you got inside.

Pleased, you entered, allowing the water to pull you in, covering you in a blanket of warmth. You closed your eyes, sinking further down into the water as it engulfed you, your face barely above the water. You hadn’t realized you had fallen asleep until you saw him, the man from last night walking around outside again. You began to follow him, his skin looked ethereal under the glow of the moon.

His curls appeared wet, but no water dripped onto his alabaster back. You continued to follow him, his pull was magnetic, only stopping once you heard his voice. “Y/N.” Gasping, you awoke, eyes opening as you tried to sit up, only to find yourself unable to. You thrashed in the bath, the water sloshing out of the side as you fought to get up.

But something was holding you down. Something unyielding. You kept trying, unable to breathe as the sound of the radio came into focus. The radio you were certain you left downstairs.

“You say you want your freedom well who am I to keep you down”

You could feel your life slipping away, but you were unable to do anything apart from surrender to the water. Just as you did, your eyes opened, body shooting upwards as you woke up from whatever cruel nightmare had consumed you. You glance around, there was no radio, only silence. Taking deep breaths, you quickly got out of the bath.

You couldn’t sleep again. Not after tonight’s events. You sit by the window, eyes completely focused on the lake. Hours passed and you didn’t see anything. Your eyes grew heavy, your head fell off your hand, startling you awake. You take a quick break from watching to go to the bathroom. When you get back, everything is still the same.

You grab your phone, scrolling aimlessly when you hear it. The rich, dulcet voice of the man, the one from your dreams, the one you saw outside. You listen carefully, it sounds like singing. Where is he? You watch as the lake starts to bubble. The mysterious man rises to the top. The haunting melody continues, pulling you outside like a magnet.

When you realize he’s luring you, it’s too late. You’re standing right in front of him. You take in your surroundings, there is nothing you can use to protect yourself. “Who are you? What do you want?” You ask him, your voice shaking with every word. He smiles, and he is stunning.

“Do not be afraid. My name is Loki.” You’re suddenly not scared anymore, almost like he willed it to happen by saying it. “What are you doing here?” He takes a step toward you. “I have lived here for many years, long before your family. I was cursed and banished to this body of water. I must break the curse so I can be free. Please help me, I beg of you.”

You reach for him instinctively. “Did you call Irene to you? Did you kill her?” You had to know before you agreed to help him. “It’s true. I called for her like I have you. I wanted her to help break the curse. When she arrived, she kept screaming about a terrible monster. She was hysterical. She jumped in the water, and I tried to save her. By the time I reached her, she hit her head on the rocks at the bottom. It was too late.”

His explanation made sense. But why did Irene think she saw some sort of monster? The man in front of you was far from that. He looked like an angel. Obsidian curls cascading passed his shoulders, green eyes that shined like the stars. He was otherworldly. You had to chastise yourself when you looked down at his exposed body.

He was built like a god with a cock to match. You had been trying not to stare at it the whole time. You felt bad for him, truly. He was trapped out here for years. Your family branded him a monster, when he just needed help.

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll help you.” He walks closer, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you. I can’t believe I’ll finally be free. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.” You hug him back. “Just tell me what I need to do.” You search his face for any clues, but he’s hard to read.

“It’s simple really. I have to lie with a woman to break the curse.” You process what he says. All you have to do is have sex with this man you were strangely attracted to. You weigh your options. You could say no, but it would be awkward living here with him bound to the lake, not to mention cruel.

If you say yes, you will have your lake back. Plus, you hadn’t had sex in a while. He hadn’t even seen any women except for your eighty-year-old grandmother in years. He would definitely fuck you like he’s fresh out of jail or dark dingy lake. You would be a fool to turn him down. You lay on the ground, beckoning Loki to you with your finger.

He settles between your legs, face angled down toward yours. His lips brush your own, you expect him to be cold, but he’s so warm. You return his kiss eagerly, but he pulls away. Tilting your chin upwards you stare into his green eyes. “Slow down, love. I want to take my time.” He kisses along your jaw all the way to your collar bone.

Your silky nightgown is the only barrier between you. The sheer gown leaves little to the imagination. Loki licks at one nipple through the silk, long fingers tease the other. You arch your back, aching for him. You need more. But Loki takes his time, giving each breast equal attention. His hand grazes your thigh, lifting the gown to your hips. You weren’t wearing any panties, so you were bare before him.

He swipes a finger through your glistening folds. “So beautiful.” He whispers, dipping two fingers inside you. He watches your face as you reach for him, needing to ground yourself. He gives you his free hand, caressing the soft skin by your thumb. You look to the stars twinkling in the night sky while you lose yourself in him.

He swirls the pad of his thumb against your clit. You don’t want to lose the feeling, so you buck your hips, riding his fingers. You close your eyes as your orgasm washes over you. He spreads your legs further apart, pushing into you slowly. You reach for his hand again, using it for comfort. You feel safe with him. His forehead connects with yours and it’s like no one else exists.

Each stroke is deliberate, he lifts your leg higher, causing him to hit deeper. You rock your hips, and you can tell he’s close. He lowers his head to the crook of your neck, teeth skimming your shoulder. You shatter for the second time. You clench around him, calling his name. He cums inside you with a growl. You remove your hand from his, twisting a dark curl between your fingers.

“Did it work?” You ask concerned. You expect the curse to be broken like in the movies with a cartoon flourish. “There’s only one way to find out. Follow me.” He takes your hand, leading you to the water’s edge. “Wait, why do we need to go in there? Shouldn’t we go the other way to see if you’re brought back here?”

You hesitate, trying to pull him toward the house. Loki doesn’t answer, he tightens his grip on your hand, dragging you to the water. “Loki, what are you doing? Stop! Loki! “You cry, trying to break free. He tires of your fighting, lifting you into his arms, he enters the lake.

You hit his back as hard as you can with your fists. You scream, cry, and plead with him. You drag your nails down his arms trying to draw blood, anything to deter him. He brings you out to the middle, walking further under the surface. Panic sets in. How could you trust this man when your family feared him for generations?

You ignored every warning, running right to him. The water fills your lungs while you thrash around trying to free yourself. Loki transforms from the gorgeous man to a giant green monster. The hands you held for comfort turn into webbed claws. His face grows sinister. White, straight teeth are replaced by jagged, yellow razors. Soft, pale skin turns rough and scaly.

He holds you closely, laughing as you try to fight him. “Foolish girl, this is my home. Your family took this from me. I won’t stop until you are all destroyed. You see what you want to see. Irene was terrified of the lake from the beginning. So, I appeared as my true self. I wasn’t expecting her sister to follow her when I lured her out.

It was no matter; she didn’t even fight back. I went after her sister as well, but she was too far away. I remained hidden for years, waiting for one of you to come near. It was so easy. You were so eager to help the poor man trapped in the lake. So cock hungry that you let me fuck you.”

Your lungs burn so badly you can’t fight back. You’re growing so weak; it won’t be long now. The only good thing that would come from your death was that a few more generations of your family would be too scared to come out here. It would stop him temporarily.

The legend was true. A monster did live in the lake, and he was more evil than you could have imagined.

A/N: I want to say a hugeeeee thank you on behalf of myself and the lovely @simplyholl for following along this month, it honestly means a lot 🖤🖤 happy Halloween 🎃

Tags

@lokischambermaid @gruftiela @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @itsybitchylittlewitchy @wolfsmom1 @gigglingtiggerv2 @chantsdemarins @buttercupcookies-blog @lokisgoodgirl @donaweasley @muddyorbsblr @litaloni @lovingchoices14 @mochie85 @lamentis-10 @loz-3 @glitchquake @goblingirlsarah @multifandom-worlds @kats72 @eleniblue @mischief2sarawr @anukulee @joyful-enchantress @fictive-sl0th @marygoddessofmischief @lulubelle814 @evelyn-rathmore @lokiestorch @ladymischief11 @valarieravenhearst1 @cakesandtom @monkey0105 @dj-murasaki @ririsutty73 @cindylynn @violethaze @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @coldnique @km-ffluv

[ladyloveandjustice]

Winter 2024 Anime Overview: Dungeon Meshi (Delicious in Dungeon)

Premise: Laios is the leader of an adventuring party, and his sister, Falin, got eaten by a dragon while sacrificing herself to save the team. Fortunately, in the dungeon they were exploring, people can be resurrected with magic. Unfortunately, if the dragon fully digests Falin, they probably can’t resurrect her. They have no time to resupply and must traverse many levels of the dungeon filled with monsters to find the dragon. Laios declares that since they can’t get food, they’ll eat the monsters in the dungeon instead-- and as a huge monster fanatic. he's unsettlingly excited about this. He’s accompanied by elf mage Marcille and hafling rogue Chilchuck in his quest, who are much more reluctant about monster-eating. They run into a dwarf, Senshi, who is an expert at cooking monsters, and the delicious race against time to save Falin begins!

...Oh what the hell, I'll say it. FINALLY, some good fucking food.

Memes aside, I love this story so much that writing a review of Delicious in Dungeon/Dungeon Meshi is daunting, because I really want to get across how great it is. But are there enough words in the English language to convey this? We can only try.

Dungeon Meshi combines cooking and adventure animanga expertly, humorously treating eating monsters with the complexity of actual recipes (and indeed, the recipes for the monsters are based off real life recipes). You can experience the warmth and contentment of sharing a meal and enjoy the way the story goes in depth about the biology of the monsters and ecology of classic RPG style dungeon. But at the same time these characters are on a classic fantasy quest and there’s lot’s of excitement as they work together overcome monsters, obstacles and their own weaknesses to save Falin.

The first thing that stands out about Dungeon Meshi is that it’s immediately entertaining and funny. A lot of humor is mined out of Marcille’s complete disgust at eating monsters (and Chilchuck’s more measured reluctance) contrasted with Laios and Senshi’s bizarre enthusiasm for it. The face game of the series is on point, especially Marcille’s.

The characters play off each other very well, have a hilarious dynamic and tons of quirks. They're immediately lovable. They're eccentric weirdos who push each other's buttons, misfits who just happen to fit together, and that's always the best.

I've seen some first time anime viewers complained about that how the early episodes are supposed to be race to save Falin, but there isn't much urgency as the characters have adventures and meals on the way. I can see that as a criticism (though it didn’t stick out to me much in the manga) but this is because we’re mostly seeing them in between the times they’re traveling, when they need downtime and mealtime. The fact that people should never neglect eating and rest if they want to succeed is a pretty important message of the show. You’ve got to let the series cook (forgive the pun). As it goes on, the urgency and tension increases ramps way up. the plot truly takes form and we see a lot of the world building from early parts pay off.

Phenomenal, intricate worldbuilding is the next big thing that stands out about Dunmeshi. Any viewers paying attention will notice it pretty quickly. Ryoko Kui doesn’t dump her complex world or her character’s detailed backstories on the viewer all at once, instead she lets it unfold bit by bit, so the viewer/reader can watch the world expand as the journey goes on, as if we are truly living this world and exploring it along with the characters.

 Everything is carefully thought out, from the structure of the societies, the cultural nuances and physiology of the different magical races, the conflicts between said races and the ways they integrate, the ecosystem and the different monsters and how they function…I could go on forever. And best of all, Dunmeshi's worldbuilding is never to the detriment of it’s incredibly rich story and characters, all of which are also developed wonderfully.

After all, Dugeon Meshi isn’t simply a story about making food and eating monsters—it’s about the ways we consume and ARE consumed, it’s about the endless cycle of life and death and the pain of struggling against that cycle. It’s about the endless hunger that drives us all and the ways we try to fill ourselves up. It’s about the ways we can find both solace and terror in the monstrous, about our struggle to accept not just monsters, but anyone who's different from us. It’s not just about natural ecosystems, but social and societal ecosystems and the ways they both hurt and help us. It’s about all the things that make good meal, one that can draw people together and help us find essential humanity that connects us.

These strong themes are all expressed through the world and the journeys of the characters. And god, do I love these characters.

Even from the start, the characters overturn RPG/fantasy archetypes. (We have an elf who’s not that into nature and dwarf who LOVES nature and doesn’t like blacksmithing)… but the most special thing about these characters is how they deepen, becoming more and more complex and fascinating as the series unfolds. None of them are quite who you think they are while also being exactly how they appear.

Marcille is one of my favorite characters in anything ever. She’s just an absolute disaster, while also being terrifyingly powerful. She’s a magic honors student who buried herself in theory but doesn’t have a lot of experience with the real world and gets upset it doesn’t work like school (I feel that). Her pride and generally high strung nature can lead to blunders that make her very funny to watch. She’s a total nerd in a way that’s so relatable, she has intelligence in spades, but not a lot of wisdom.

 But on the other hand, she’s an aching wounded soul who’s struggling under the surface, dealing with grief and loss constantly. She's obsessed with control in a world that uncontrollable. She’s incredibly driven and unnervingly dedicated to her goals. She’s also scarily devoted to the people she loves and will cross any moral line, break any taboo, and cover herself in blood and sin to save them. She refuses to let silly things like “laws” and “rules” stifle her research or get in her way .And while she's a neat freak who's grossed out by monsters, she's the first person to dive into the blood and guts and horror when shit gets real.

The contrast between her being a sweet, silly, dorky lovable nerd who flails around and being a powerful badass who has complex motivations, an intricate arc, and sometimes questionable morals is so great. Get you a girl who can do both. She's basically everything I love in a character.

Marcille’s love for Falin and infinite devotion is also key to the story, and it’s so refreshing to see a well-written relationship between women be so central to a fantasy anime like this. And yes, by love for Falin, I mean in a gay way. It’s not technically canon (Dunmeshi is not into confirming romantic relationships for any of it’s characters really) but it’s hard to interpret their relationship as anything else, and honestly it’s one of the best wlw ships I’ve seen in a while. It’s got everything, the softness, the sweet and sensual intimacy, the angst, the tragedy, the raw unbearable yearning, tearing the world apart and defying even the laws of nature for her, crawling through hell and soaking your hands in blood and not letting anything get in your way...yeah, it’s good.

While Marcille is my #1, all the characters in this story are fantastic and I love them all. They all have incredible depth and similarly complex backstories and arcs, and are all fun to watch. For instance, Laios may look like generic human fighter but he’s just the weirdest dude, a wonderfully unhinged man who absolutely has a monstersona. But then we also discover he's someone who struggles socially in a way that many neurodivergent people can relate to, who had a troubled childhood, who grapples with survivor’s guilt, and who, like Marcille, would do anything for his sister and the people he cares about. Chilchuck and Senshi and Falin and all the others the same, really interesting characters who deepen and grow. Everyone's relationships also develop wonderfully.

And on top of all that, it's a show with really well-realized and well-written female characters…who even have diverse body types! We have stocky dwarf ladies with muscles! Huge orc and oni women! They’re allowed to be messy and complicated, badass and vulnerable, and that’s definitely a part of my affection for the series. (and famously, most of the fanservice of the series is focused on Senshi’s endless pant shots (loincloth, if we’re being specific)) and while there are moments with the female characters that make me fan myself, it’s not the obnoxious anime unsexy bullshit way that treats women like objects.

And specifically for the anime, Trigger is doing great work with it. There’s so much cool and vivid animation. There are some small moments from the manga that I really miss and wish they had kept, but it’s been a largely faithful adaptation that understands what makes the story great, and I can’t ask for much more. The English simuldub is also genuinely good with all of the VA’s turning in great performances (and Prozd plays Senshi!)

Dungeon Meshi is honestly one to the best stories in recent years, and it’s easy to let it take over your brain. So come along with me and enjoy the funny jokes, the splendid storytelling, the endearing and endlessly fascinating characters and the delectable world. You don’t want to miss out on this delicious meal.

[octopus-punching-union]

Thoughts on second read of Obscuary chapter. (Roughly chronological this time)

Darkwick has a general medical center — so Mortkranken isn't the only medical care on campus, regardless of what Yuri might say

The Gala happens in August, which means the end of the school year is in August, which means there is basically no break between the school years. (Do they have breaks at Darkwick? If they do, are the ghouls allowed to leave? Probably not.)

Moby is barely even trying to hide that Darkwick sees Lyca primarily as a research subject (and MC as his "warden")

Darkwick doesn't trust Subaru anymore? MC asks if Subaru wouldn't be a better mentor, and Moby's like nope but doesn't explain

Kinda sus that the flashback repeats Haku's "have I ever lied to you" line

What is the "most severe form of disciplinary action"? In Hotarubi chapter, Lyca and Subaru imply that Darkwick planned to kill Lyca if he was, in fact, guilty of murder. Are they going around secretly executing people?

Haku's like "I'm well aware." Does he know someone who was punished this way? (I've been thinking for a while that he's the spy, but that his motivation is trying to protect someone, possibly Rui. I feel like this is another point in that direction.)

Aww, Lyca makes MC sit down when she gets upset remembering the anomaly that cursed her. What a sweetheart.

If the moon is always a crescent in Obscuary, does that mean Lyca doesn't have to worry about transforming if he stays there during the full moon?

...did Rui seriously get cursed by hitting on a Reaper?

Hmm is it just me, or does Subaru not look super thrilled when Lyca says that he's already made a new friend?

Lyca and Rui's reactions to MC saying that she wants to use the Gala to get help breaking her curse — Lyca looks upset (didn't know she was cursed), Rui smiles (proud of his curse twin being proactive)

Rui making Lyca actually work at the bar but telling MC to just relax

Why is Nicolas being so shady about other people (particularly MC) being at the bar?

Benkei only started working at the campus store recently and immediately arranged to start selling anomalous medicine. Maybe he was a former student?

Aww, Lyca takes afternoon naps.

Rui says that going to the basement to make liquor is "always a workout"... and that there are freaky looking plants writhing around down there..... and he wouldn't recommend it unless you're into that kind of thing......... are you keeping a tentacle monster in the basement, Rui???

Towa says that the tree is sick because she's not getting enough love. Possibly she is reacting to the overall tension on campus? Or maybe more people used to be able to see her, but something has happened and they can't? Maybe it's a response to the general students leaving Jabberwock? (Is her hill in Jabberwock or in its own area?)

On first read, I thought maybe Rui was previously in Ultio, since he knew about the prison. Now I think he was held in that prison at some point.

Towa says that Edward doesn't understand love... but he doesn't give a crap about the dog, he's only looking for it for Haru. (Towa loves Haru confirmed?)

Taiga remembers Ed, even though it's been a while since they've seen each other. Is his bad memory a recent thing, where he only has trouble remembering people he's recently met?

What does this mean? Taiga can (literally or figuratively?) see some kind of danger Ritsu is unaware of?

Lyca's twitchy ears. So cute...

Darkwick supposedly doesn't know much about MC's curse, but I wouldn't be at all surprised if they're letting it run its course just to study it. If MC wasn't useful as an inspector, she would probably be in a lab or a cell somewhere.

Back on the mission, after discovering that the Barometz is "friendly" — I wonder how much of the previous animosity between ghouls and inspectors was due to stuff like this. Trying to let a peaceful anomaly be.

In parts of the comic scene, Lyca looks like he's running on all fours. Cuuuuute

Earlier, Rui said that Ed was basically on house arrest. Towards the end of the chapter, Moby calls it a "self-imposed confinement". I don't really trust anything Moby says at this point...

Ed clearly knows more about anomalies than Darkwick does... so they're not asking him, or he's not complying, or they're not listening to him. Why is he at Darkwick anyway? I can't see what he's getting out of this. Is he being detained?

Rui's conversation at the end — honestly, I can see it. His comments about not liking hard work or not reaching out to help people — throughout the whole chapter, he only seems to enjoy helping MC. He's kinda irritated with Lyca and Ed for almost the entire chapter. All of the housework and stuff he does is because no one else will do it, and he literally can't sleep so he's probably bored out of his mind. He chose to start the bar, so he probably enjoys that... but maybe he started do it partly to have more people to talk to. I think the isolation is getting to him and he's starting to feel less "human", in a sense, and detached from society. I think he's starting to warm up to Lyca near the end, at least?

[tenjikufag]

Curious if this is alright to ask, you have any (specific) headcanons for your men XD? Like Touden or Dabi

SQUEEEE yes I Do. Specifically for LAIOS. My sweet sweet blonde boy. (This is kinda long so read under the cut, don’t wanna clutter others TLS :))

For starters, despite me never writing him as such, I believe Laios doesn’t really have an inwards understanding of his own sexuality. He isn’t naive (much like people write him as) it’s more of a passive trait he’s gained. Romance has never been a thought in the forefront of his mind, if it’s even there at all.

I believe he claims himself as straight- more to get people off his back/halt any further questioning but I do think he doesn’t really believe it. He’d court anyone, just hasn’t chose to or found someone. Very much a “and they were roommates” scenario when coming to end up with him.

A more funny hc of mine is post dungeon, he has to adjust to eating normal and accessible foods- monsters no longer on the table once outside and it causes HELL on his stomach when he tries to eat regular meat like chicken or steak. Think of it like going from one country to another, you may not be used to how meals are prepared in x country- the likelihood of food poisoning/stomach disagreements are fairly common!

As for relationship dynamics- this man is a bottom/switch. Always in a mildly submissive position though. If he’s topping (rare occasion) he’s ABSOLUTELY a service top- asking you everything and anything about what he’s doing. It’s not that he isn’t in tune or that he doesn’t know what to do but more so because he cares about how YOU feel more than himself. And because he’s oh so pale, best believe he is a blushing, flushed mess either under or ontop of you.

Being as I said he never really thought about courting/dating, he treats you more like a best best best friend. Obviously More intimate but otherwise he’d probably end up as the silly trope of “this is a date?”,”we’ve been dating for 3 months Laios.” Just overall oblivious, again never naive, he’s just.. not very perceptive.

He’s a silly man, and I hc him as such. He’s smart, book smart and interest driven but as we’ve clearly seen throughout he’s just.. not socially aware a lot of the time, he cares more about how he feels in his own skin and how he, himself, perceives the world around him- not how others perceive him. He could care less, but he tries to care for the sake of those around him. (Marcille) !!

These are the main HCS I could think of, i loveee to talk about hcs so you’re more than free to ask about any others!!

[goodneighborxfallout]

How would the companions react to Little Lamplight and Mayor Maccready?

Thanks for requesting!

Cait:

Little Lamplight: “It may seem cruel for these children to have to live like this but… I think I would prefer this over my own childhood, you know?” 

MacCready: “Not a hope that this little shithead and MacCready are the same person! Way too polite, that bloke.” 

Codsworth:

Little Lamplight: “A society run by children? Oh mum/sir, I don’t dare imagine little Shaun having to grow up in a place like this.” 

MacCready: “Oh dear, such hostility from a child? I suppose I can’t expect anything different. These poor kids never had any proper adult guidance! Sir/mum, I propose we send a Ms Nanny their way!” 

Curie:

Little Lamplight: “Oh, this is just horrible! No child should have to survive in these conditions! Isn’t there anything we can do to help them?” 

MacCready: “Such vulgarity! Has no one got manners anymore in this world?” 

Danse:

Little Lamplight: “Look what the war did to these children! This is yet more proof of why technology in the hands of the wrong people can have devastating consequences!” 

MacCready: “The exact attitude one would expect from someone who’d grow up to be a mercenary.” (Mac: “What’s that supposed to mean??”) 

Deacon:

Little Lamplight: “A parentless life is a sad reality for many children in the wastes. However morbid this may look, they’ve been managing well.”

MacCready: Deacon will try to convince mayor MacCready that he’s just a really tall child. On top of that, he will forever call adult MacCready ‘mungo’ and make up countless different reasons for how he knows that term.

Gage:

Little Lamplight: “Interesting set-up. I guess they’re pretty safe here from outside threats, except - you know - the gigantic green monsters next door.” (insert sarcasm)

MacCready: “Kid, you have no idea the kind of company I’ve had to deal with all these years. You wanna rile me up? Then stray away from your vanilla boring ass insults ‘cause I ain’t impressed.” 

Hancock:

Little Lamplight: “Huh, cozying up right next to a super mutant den? Either these kids are incredibly brave or incredibly stupid. Probably an unhealthy mix of both.” 

MacCready: “So this is the origin story of our favorite mercenary? Hm, I’ll admit, almost as good as mine.” 

Longfellow:

Little Lamplight: Longfellow won’t say anything, but a profound sadness washes over him at the sight in front of him. If somewhere deep down he still had hope for the world, it was now for sure fully taken away.

MacCready: “Youngsters these days…” 

MacCready:

“Ahh the good old times.” 

Nick:

Little Lamplight: “I can’t tell if I’m more impressed by their tenacity, or more disappointed that they need it to survive.” 

MacCready: “Well, behind every hardened mercenary, there is some kind of tragic backstory, isn’t there?” He sighs. “Maybe I’ve been too hard on the kid.” 

Piper:

Little Lamplight: “Oh god… I’ve always known the Wasteland was hard but… these are children. They should be getting raised by two loving parents not living like… this.”

MacCready: Piper’s always known MacCready as a chill mercenary who tries a bit too hard to flirt with her. She’s never paid much attention to him, but seeing him as a child living in these circumstances, she suddenly finds herself looking at him in a completely different light. 

Preston:

Little Lamplight: “This is why we have to bring back the Minutemen! Children deserve to grow up in a safe place, not hiding out in a cave.”

MacCready: “Damn… With how chill he is, you’d never guess he had this kind of childhood. Certainly explains why he’s so good at his job though.” 

Strong:

Little Lamplight: “Not safe for small human! Brother smash small human!” 

MacCready: “Small human talk too much!” 

X6-88:

Little Lamplight: “And here I thought I’d already seen the worst of the surface.” 

MacCready: “Interesting. Somehow the child version seems tougher than the adult.”