#i love when music gets permanently linked in your brain with something else

[skitskatdacat63]

I feel like Khachaturian is such an underrated composer :<

Everyone should listen to Gayaneh >:(

[writing-for-life]

Thank you for an amazing 2023!

About metas, fics and sparkly things…

This won’t be short, but you wouldn’t expect that from me, would you? 🤣

I’ve been on Tumblr for just a bit over a year because I needed to get off my family’s back after my three decades long Sandman brain-rot got worse again due to the Netflix series. I hovered around a handful of followers for months until things exploded (I still don’t know why tbh, I think it was one particular meta that kicked things off a bit), and I somehow ended up with hundreds of followers, which might not be much to some, but it’s a lot for me.

So to all of you I’d like to say: Thank you for being here. I don’t always manage to stay on top of things because my notifs are a mess and I lose track, plus I have a rather busy life and can often only write in batches and then queue, but each of you is appreciated, even if I accidentally forget to get back to you or if we aren’t mutuals.

I’ve made such lovely connections over the last year—my interest in The Sandman definitely does not align with the main focus that shan’t be named, and I’m glad that you folks are out there. You probably know who you are.

Now to the obligatory “your posts wrapped” thing—and I’m only doing it because I need to make a point (of course I do 🤣).

News and art

My by far most successful posts have been casting/shooting news and pretty pictures (two examples are linked). And I’m grateful for all the reblogs and likes of those, but apart from curating them, they’re not really me. They’re someone else’s work.

Meta analysis

Then you have my metas, which make up the bulk of the other posts that are doing quite well (you can find all of them in my pinned post).

Even if it wasn’t my most “successful” one (what does that even mean?), this one meant the most to me:

I love writing metas, whether they cover literary concepts, psychology, music or art because I’m a permanently brain-frazzled multi-hyphenate who has to talk about everything that won’t leave her alone.

I also love when you’re sending me asks btw. For the latter, I hope they pick up again in 2024 because they really nosedived since I switched off anonymous asks (which I won’t change, soz) after some people just thought it’s good sport to be an arse about my not being here to pray at the altar of the ship. I guess we have briefly covered the ugly side of Tumblr, too, then.

Writing

But what I'm most proud of when I think of all the things I've done in 2023 is my fiction and poetry. And that's both a happy and slightly sad thing to address.

My 31 Haikus for Sandtober started as a bit of fun, but they’ve developed a life of their own, and people seemingly liked them. The post also contains a bit of my fan-art:

I still intend to turn them into a hardcover at some point, but I won’t be able to create all the artwork myself, so if you’re a fan-artist and want to know what I’m thinking of, please get in touch (I’ll still talk about this in more detail at some point though).

The other thing I’m incredibly proud of is “The Light of Stars”.

I started it as a NaNoWriMo project in 2022 (I always use NaNo to do something that is less stressful than my professional writing projects), wrote it in a bit more than a month—and then did nothing with near 80,000 words until June 2023.

And then I thought “Fuck it,” and published it on Ao3. It’s a canon x OC fic, and this is where it gets a bit sad. Because for most of us writers, these are never the posts that get most engagement (the ratio is really something like 100 : 1 — 500 for a shitpost, 5 for an average writing post).

On Ao3, it gradually picked up because I published chapter after chapter, and I think I can say that it’s done fairly well over there in terms of engagement for an OC fic, and above all how people engage with it. Because it’s a bit deeper despite being romance, it deals with heavy topics like grief, and I’m so glad to have touched a few people’s hearts with it, and that it was meaningful to them. So much so that you all convinced me to write a sequel.

But here’s the thing: The general engagement with writing, especially non-explicit, non-ship, non-readerY/N on Tumblr is very, very low.

Writers who write canon x OC are still struggling to be heard through the noise (it’s not just me, I’ve had many conversations about this, so I’ll just say: I’ll speak for many of us). There are basically hardly any events for us to participate in (most of us only ever do so if we shift to canon one-shots, poetry or metas. If we don’t: Again, no one cares), and fandom often actively chooses to ignore us because “all OCs are self-inserts, ew.” Which is patently not true, and I could go on a long rant now why many canon x canon fics are very obvious self-inserts, which I won’t.

But even if all OCs were self-inserts, even if all characters were—so what? All writing is to a degree based on self-insertion because it comes from our brains—it’s not a bad thing. But apparently, it becomes a bad thing if the character is an OC, heaven knows why.

So if I had one wish (I’m allowed one, right?) for 2024, it would be that people engage more with OC fics and include them more in community events. That fandom, which prides itself in community, includes writers who don’t write for (the main) ship/s a bit more, especially if they don’t write smut (which I personally even do professionally, but I don’t want to have to do it in fanfic just to get engagement). I’m not holding my breath because I know that’s not where fandom’s oft single-minded focus lies, but a girl can dream, right?

And with that, I want to get to my proudest accomplishments of them all:

Being the curator queen of the sparkle realms:

Being one (arguably the main) instigator of the maddest crack ship that has ever graced (?) the face of the earth, spawned the most unhinged discussion (much truth in it though 🤣) and even NSFW fanart. I promise I’ll write that fic about Murphy and his Cool Hat:

Have a lovely 2024!

[monsterenergysimp]

Permanence

corpse husband x fem!reader 

summary: you meet corpse on a stream and you’re surprised when he reaches out to you 

warnings: cursing, mentions of tattooing

word count: 1.9k

notes: This is proof read but could have missed some stuff. This is my first corpse fic and my first time writing fanfic since I posted that super cringey book on wattpad when I was like 12 or something. I’d appreciate feed back so please reach out to me :)

main blog @itsmysleepover

read part 2 here!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You were cleaning up your station so you can get home and stream. You loved your day job as a tattoo artist but you also really enjoyed streaming. It started as a way to promote yourself as an artist and the shop you worked at but it eventually became a really fun way to destress at the end of the week (or day if you were really itching to stream). “Hey Y/N was that your last client?” your boss, KC, asked as she walked to the front of the shop and put new flash drawings on the walls.

“Yes ma’am!” You said back excitedly. You finished cleaning your station and tossed your black gloves in the trash. “And you can’t trick me into staying and taking walk-ins,” you joked with her. She rolled her eyes and walked back into her office “It was one time,” she said as you slid on your jacket. As you walked out your phone buzzed in your pocket and you checked to see who had texted you. It was a message from Sean asking if you were free to play Among Us with him and some other streamers. You replied that you were on your way home right now and totally down. You were excited to see who was playing this time around since their Among Us streams are super entertaining and have gotten really popular.

On your way back you tweeted and posted to your Instagram story that you’d be streaming soon and set up all your stuff once you made it home. After a few minutes, you had a couple of thousand people watching. You entered the discord chat and Sean spoke up. “Everyone this is Y/N she’s sensitive so be gentle.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you guys and I’m not gentle, I'm ruthless,” You say into your mic and notice the chat calling you a liar. Everyone was in the lobby waiting for the game to start. “You sound way too sweet to be ruthless,” Corpse said. The countdown started and you were imposter with Charlie.

“This should be fun,” you told the stream. Yout tried playing strategically but after such a long shift your brain was mush. You saw Poki in nav and killed her then vented into shields. Not long after the body was reported and you were sure you were going to get voted out or at least sussed.

“Where was the body?” Felix asked. “Nav and I didn’t see anyone near there so whoever is imposter must have vented,” Corpse responded. Felix spoke up again. “I think I saw Y/N walk that way and I haven’t seen her since.”

Shit, shit, shit shit. “I’m in shield right now so-” you said trying to defend yourself but Charlie spoke up. “I was doing tasks with her earlier and I saw her walk into shields so she’s safe but I’m still not sure about Rae.” Everyone discussed a bit more and some people, including Corpse, voted for you but Rae got the majority vote and was ejected. You released your breath and kept playing being extra careful.  

“Okay, guys that was super close. Corpse knows and is out to get me,” you said to the chat. You were eventually voted off but one round later victory was written across your screen with your ghost and Charlie’s avatar. “Good game guys,” Corpse said.

“I told you guys I was ruthless!”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat at your station doing nothing because a client had canceled a four-hour session. You were listening to music and sketching some stuff but you were bored out of your mind and you didn’t want to leave in case you got a walk-in. The music got quiet as you received a twitter notification saying someone had messaged you. You reached for your phone and saw you had gotten a dm from Corpse.

C: hey :)

You didn’t know what to respond. You were mostly confused as to why he decided to message you out of the blue. Did he want something? But what would he want?

Y: Hii! This is sudden

C: was i bothering you?

    shit sorry!

Y: Youre fine I wasn’t doing anything rn

C: how has your day been

    i dont usually do stuff like this

Y: Im glad you did im doing better now I was so bored

C: what were you doing that was so terrible

Y: NOTHING! thats the problem :(

C: im sure youll find something to do

You stared at his message. Unsure what to respond.

Y: Im gonna give myself a tattoo

C: what?

    NO!

You tossed the needles you used for your tattoo into the sharps box. “Oh my god you didn’t,” KC said. She noticed the wrap on your calve from the tattoo you just gave yourself out of boredom. “It’s not my fault I didn’t have anything else to do!” You said trying to defend yourself. She sighed and just shook her head. “Just go home business is slow today.” It was raining so the shop probably wasn’t going to get a walk-in anyway and you didn’t have any more clients for the day. It was only 2 pm but you drove home and after making lunch for yourself decided to stream. You weren’t expecting too many people so it was bound to be super chill. Your leg felt sore reminding you of the tattoo. You snapped a quick pic of the fresh jack-o-lantern on the side of your calve and messaged it to Corpse.

Y: [image] it came out nice!

C: thats  super cool actually

    i was concerned why you would just give yourself a tattoo but i found your instagram and       youre super talented

Y: Thank you!

For some reason, it felt strange to just have that be the end of your response.

Y: Im about to start streaming if you wanted to watch

    [link]

C: ill be watching ;)

What’s that supposed to mean?

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You sat in your apartment watching tv, hand lost in a bag of Doritos, and scrolling through twitter. You had stopped paying attention to the anime playing on the screen since you’ve watched it a hundred times and knew you wouldn’t miss anything. It was Saturday and you usually take those days off. Take the time to do chores or meet up with some friends but today you felt like not doing any of those things. As you continue your endless scroll (not helping the twitter addiction you told yourself you’d try to get a handle on) you got a message from Corpse.

C: wanna talk?

You looked down at the message unsure of how to answer. It was a simple yes or no and the obvious answer was yes. You and Corpse had started talking more regularly. You still didn’t have each other’s phone numbers but it was fine. Your conversations weren’t too big-- just you sending him memes, tiktoks, and telling him how much you liked the songs he would drop. Or him complimenting a tattoo you did. Sometimes he’d message you during streams telling you funny stuff his fans would say in the chat and you’d do the same. You learned a bit about each other but nothing too deep or serious. Like how you two lived a few cities away and you both really liked Donnie Darko. When Sean first invited you to that game out of everyone else there you were most excited to meet Corpse. He’s just so sweet and funny. Of course, you’d love to talk to him but you were also itching to talk to him and the last thing you’d ever want to do was make him uncomfortable.

Y: Yeah id love to talk

Here goes nothing.

Y: Wanna facetime or something?

     No pressure or anything it could even be a regular call

     I think facetime is just my default lol

You sent those last two messages quickly after you had sent the first. You wished you could know what he was thinking. It was killing you to think you had turned him off from talking to you completely. You put your phone down on the couch and went to wash your hand of Dorito dust. When you got back from the kitchen you turned off the tv and tossed yourself onto the couch.

Still no message.

Why am I so fucking stupid?  

Just as you were standing up to stretch from sitting on the couch all day your phone buzzed. You reached for it fast and looked to see that it was him. You became super excited still not even knowing what the message said. It could have told you to never talk to him again for all you knew.

C: sure lets facetime

    xxx-xxx-xxxx

You had his phone number. You added him to your small but growing contact list and called. You sat on your couch waiting for a response when he finally picked up the screen was black. It didn’t upset you; you kind of expected it and didn’t care what he had to do to make himself more comfortable during this call.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was raspier than usual.

“Did you just wake up?” You asked and looked at the time. It was about a little past noon and you had only eaten Doritos all day. Shit, you should probably make a decent meal.

“Not that long ago but yeah,” he responded and giggled. That giggle.

“Well, I’ve eaten nothing but Doritos all day while rewatching Ouran High School Host Club, so you’re welcome to join me as I make myself something to eat.”

“Sounds like fun; what are we eating?”

“I don’t know yet,” You said as you stood up and made your way to the kitchen. You opened the pantry and looked. You noticed a can of diced tomatoes and reached for it then checked the expiration date. It was still good. On your counter were some onions and garlic. “How about some tomato soup?”

“Sounds delicious.” you smiled at Corpse and your phone screen not knowing if he was also looking at his screen or not. “You’re really pretty-- you know that?”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to--”

“I’ve already told you what an incredible artist you are so many times I bet you’re tired of hearing it, but you already know what a talented artist you are.”

“That is very kind of you Corpse,” you said to him bashfully as you chopped the onion and opened the can of tomatoes. “But once again you don’t have to reach so far to compliment me.”

“I’m not reaching you are talented and beautiful and--”

“I thought I was pretty.” You could hear him chuckle with a smile on his face. “You’re both,” he said. You could feel your face getting warm from blushing.

“Fuck you you’re making me blush. My face is all hot and stuff.”

He laughed at how flustered you got. “That’s the cutest thing ever.”

You didn’t know how to respond so you just put some olive oil in a pot and tossed in your onions. It became silent but it was a comfortable silence. You turned the stove on and watched the flame for a few seconds. “If it was dark we could pretend we were together and having a bonfire or something,” you said to the phone as you turned the camera to show him the flame (still not 100 percent sure if he was looking at you or not).

“I’ll put it on the list of things to do when you visit me someday.”

[littlemisspascal]

Ezra’s Journal Entries #1-3

Fandom: Prospect / Pedro Pascal

Pairing: Ezra x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1,269

Summary: You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

Warnings: angsty fluff, Ezra’s dealing with the aftermath of the Green, language, 1st person POV (Ezra), dialogue in italics because that’s just how I chose to do it, no beta so all mistakes are mine

Author Note: I know I said Death and Angel would come out next, but I got such a inspiration high and the words came out so quickly I just told myself screw it and decided to share what I have. If anyone thinks this is a series worth pursuing, let me know. If you don’t, well, just be gentle please 💖

Cross-posted on AO3

Entries #4-6

Look for additional notes at the bottom.

My name is Ezra. 

I have my mama to thank for that. Time has erased her face from my memory, but her voice is ingrained into the tissue of my brain the same way these words are inked on this parchment. She was a bonafide believer that the meaning of a child’s name influenced the course of their destiny. When I was no taller than the height of her waist I learned my own name’s denotation: help.

It’s just a tick too ironic, isn’t it? To be destined to help others when I can’t help my own self. I gave the Green far too little credit. It didn’t just pilfer my arm to satisfy its ravenousness, it greedily stole my sense of purpose too. 

Every night I thank the deities you didn’t accompany me there. If the Green had taken you...

I know how worried you are about me, little love of mine. When I look at you, I find you already looking back, a sweet smile gracing your lips even as concern burns in your eyes as an eternal flame. From day one you’ve always been looking at me, seeing every disgraced flaw and scar—even the invisible ones carved into the darkest edges of my soul. Kevva knows I’ve never been capable of concealing anything from you, but fuck if I don’t wish I could sometimes.

You’re asleep now as I write this, tucked against my side in the vacant space my arm once occupied, drooling on my shirt. I love you so much it hurts. A black hole in my chest perpetually aching to be filled by your presence. And as we venture once more into the starry sea, our ship gliding past the imaginary wings of Noctua, I find myself recalling a theory you once told me many cycles ago about humans being made in the womb with stardust infused in their bones, linking them to the universe. You and I were made from the same star, you said with such conviction it stole the breath from my lungs, bound to each other for eternity by the Currents of the universe. 

And it’s undoubtedly selfish, but all I could think of in that tender moment beyond kissing you was how I didn’t want an eternity spent together with our cosmic bodies intertwined. 

I want longer.

Soon after we awoke and each consumed a slice of bush bread bought during our recent docking at Kamrea, you fiddled with the channels on the ship’s radio, hoping to hear news from your homeworld but cursing when you only heard static. Then, without an ounce of forewarning, music burst out with an almighty scream through the speakers at full volume, flooding the whole compartment with a woman’s warbling. It was the same crusted Vayok song that merc Inumon blared in my ears during my last night on the Green, every note an individual needle piercing my skull, impossible to ignore.

Reality deserted me, leaving me to sink to the depths of the abyss within my mind where all I could see was Cee’s pale, disturbed expression as she looked to me for guidance. I remembered how my tongue felt clumsy in my mouth as I tried my damnedest to negotiate our transport, thinking if I could just piece together the right sequence of words, if I could just get their lingering eyes off of her, then maybe, maybe we’d have a chance at salvation. 

The memories coalesced, overlapping and blurring and mixing out of order. Each one was drenched in spilt blood.

Then your pinky wrapped around mine. The touch was soft yet firm, the action childlike in its innocence. It was such a jarring contradiction to my mind’s violent narrative, my consciousness was hurtled back into the living quarters of our ship as a result. You didn’t say anything when you saw I returned to you. Instead, you swallowed down the questions lodged in your throat and led me by our entwined fingers back to our bed.

There’s a plant back home called a dandelion, you told me with my head resting in your lap, a far better comfort than any pillow could provide me. It’s the only plant in the galaxy you can see the sun, the moon and the stars when you look at it. That’s not why it’s my favorite though.

I asked how it had won your heart’s favor if not due to its resemblance to the celestial bodies, then immediately found myself mesmerized by the smile that lit up your face as you peered down at me. My chest cavity tightened as I was filled with the profound longing to be able to suspend time, if only so I could stretch this moment to match the length of our separation, if only so I could erase the old and replace it with the beautiful new.

Dandelions grant wishes, babe. Anything you wish for with your whole heart, it will be yours to have.

I told you I wouldn’t wish for anything—nothing else in the galaxy could compare to the prettiest, wisest soul I’d ever encountered in all my years traversing it. You saw right through that lie with the same confident ease you see through all my masks and diversions, but—for the second time in the span of an hour—you held your tongue.

This journal’s as good a place as any to admit the honest truth. So here it is: I wish with the entirety of my bloody, beating heart I could be the man you deserve, little love of mine. 

When you read, whether it be a book or the flight manual, you have the precious habit of mouthing the words. I don’t think you have the faintest notion you’re even doing it, which makes it all the more endearing to watch.

My brother had a similar habit, always nose deep in the yellowing pages of classic literature, except he had a proclivity to spoil the plot when he talked in his sleep. I remember there was one particular novel he returned to often, sometimes reading from beginning to end, other times seeking out specific segments he’d underlined in bold, black pen. It was a rather dreary tale about war and rivalry and the process of determining one’s own identity. I became so exasperated with my brother’s obsession I considered shredding it on more than one occasion, only to immediately hate myself for entertaining the thought.

It was only after his death—twelve whole cycles, in fact—that I summoned up the will to open the front cover. Seeing his name scribbled in the corner, cursive and neat and so utterly him, nearly had me tearing the book in half, overcome with a vicious rage I had never known prior nor have I encountered since. But by the almighty grace of Kevva I reigned it in, chaining it to the agony and fear imprisoned within the confines of my rib cage, and turned the page.

There was one segment underlined not once, but three times, nearly bleeding ink onto the page behind it. When I close my eyes, the words are tattooed on the backs of my eyelids, as haunting as they are comforting.

So the more things remained the same, the more they changed after all. Nothing endures. Not love, not a tree, not even a death by violence.

The author lived and died centuries before my brother’s inception, that is an inarguable fact. 

But I know those words were written for him all the same. 

Notes: 

There is an actual theory humans are made of stardust ✨

The Sater within Prospect mention the Currents as being responsible for bringing Ezra and Cee to them, so I imagine them as similar to the Fates/Moirai in Greek mythology.

Noctua is a real life, extinct constellation that is Latin for owl. I thought within this Prospect universe it could exist as a type of landmark or coordinate. Plus I love owls 🦉

Crusted is a term from Prospect Ezra uses. Equivalent of damn. I think there’s something funny about how they use creamy as a positive adjective and crusted as negative.

Vayok is the alien language Inumon speaks within the movie, so I decided to write the song she blares as being sung in the same language

Bush bread is referenced in a deleted scene by Ezra, but a google search revealed to me it’s also a real life type of bread too

In the same deleted scene Ezra references that he has a brother. I haven’t decided his name yet/if he will have one

The book and quote Ezra refers to in #3 is John Knowles’ A Separate Peace. One of the few required reading books I liked back in high school.

The quote about dandelions being the sun, moon and stars is based on the legend of how dandelions came into existence. I always thought it was beautiful.

Series Taglist: @insomniamamma

Permanent Taglist: @promiscuoussatan, @melobee, @randomness501, @absurdthirst, @captain-jebi, @artsymaddie, @happiestsparkleofall, @disgruntledspacedad, @gallowsjoker, @aerynwrites, @vintagesaph, @sylphene, @chibi-yuki, @freeshavocadoooo, @stilllivindue2spite, @pointy-sharp, @leilei-draws, @over300books, @theocatkov, @oh-no-a-whovian, @you-and-i-deserve-the-world, @lin-djarin, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @coaaster, @waywardmando, @thisshipwillsail316, @grogusmum, @asta-lily, @mylifeofcalculatedchaos @tacticalsparkles​

[cutie1365]

A Kid from Queens Part 21

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Info: CA: Civil War Era. Tony Stark enlists his daughter to find the web slinging spider in Queens.

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, language. (I had aged up Peter so he’s 18.)

A/N: Flashbacks in italics as usual :) I know it’s been forever, motivation is hard to come by these days. This is the longest thing I’ve ever written, it’s long enough to break into two chapters but I know I haven’t uploaded in a while so Merry Christmas lol.

Any and all feedback is much appreciated! Please please if you could just leave a little message of things you like or what you want to see in the future it really helps.

Masterlist linked in my bio. Taglist in the reblog.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Y/N! Y/N! Over here!” You heard your name called as Happy opens the limo door. He extends his hand to help you to your feet.

“Stark, look over here!” The paparazzi screams were almost deafening as Peter exited the car after you. His mask hid more of his features while yours left little to the imagination, they knew who you were already, so no point in trying to hide it.

“Behave.” Happy pointed a stern finger at you.

“Don’t I always.” You feigned offense as your hand clapped over your heart, he raised a brow as your mouth turned up into a smirk.

“Goodnight Happy.” You chuckled, turning and stepping onto the red carpet leading to the venue.

“Who are you wearing?” You heard different questions screamed in your direction. This was a charity gala after all, not the fucking Oscars. Who cares who made your dress?

You slipped your hand into Peters, trying to calm him. This had to be overwhelming, all the cameras in your face, screaming anything they can to get you to look their way.

“Dr. Stark!” One voice called, gaining your attention. Few people addressed you with your appropriate title. You turned to see a young woman, who didn’t look like she’s been on the job for very long. She was holding her own though, against all these ruthless reporters. You thought you saw The Bugle among them.

“Dr. Stark, Glory Grant from the Times.” She smiled once you looked her way. You took a step closer to her, nodding at her to let her know you were listening and she could continue, “Can you tell us why this cause is important to you?”

“Of course, every child’s life we can save is like an investment into our and their future. They’re going to be the ones to take over the world someday. Who knows who will be the next Einstein, or Madam Curie...” You began with a smile.

“Or Y/N Stark,” She smiled. You laughed, shaking your head humbly.

“If we can do our part in donating and relieving some of the financial burdens off of their parents then it’s worth it. This organization not only helps families and children currently fighting cancer, but it helps look for a cure. A permanent solution to help end this disease.” You spoke from your heart.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark.” She smiled as she scribbled the last of your words onto her notepad.

“Are you new at the Times Ms. Grant?” You asked, taking another step closer to her and the barrier between the two of you.

“Yeah, I just started.” She smiled nervously.

“Can I borrow your pen?” You asked, and she handed you her pen and pad.

“That’s my work number. If you’d like to be added to the Stark Industries press board, give me a call. They’re the first ones we call about press releases and announcements.” You spoke as you scribbled it down, handing it back to her with a smile.

“Thank you so much Dr. Stark, but why are you helping me?” She furrowed her brows.

“Because it's a man's world, and we can help change that, one woman at a time,” You said, causing her to laugh, “You’re the only one here to actually address me by my title and not ask me about my outfit. I see a bright career ahead of you.” You nodded to her as you took a step back towards the middle of the carpet.

“Enjoy tonight,” she smiled, beaming at the new opportunity. You winked at her as you took Peter’s hand and led him along the carpet and up the stairs towards the venue.

“That was nice of you,” He squeezed your hand.

“I mean it’s effortless for me, but it will help kick start her career. I got this kinda third eye about people.” You smirked.

“That’s not a real thing.” He shook his head with a laugh.

“Sure it is. It’s not always perfect, but sometimes I can just tell when people are destined for something great. Like you, from the moment I met you I knew.” You turned towards him, taking his other hand in yours.

“You knew what?” He titled his head in confusion.

You leaned in to press a chaste kiss to his lips, forgetting you were at the top of the stairs and still in full sight of all the photographers. You saw the flashes but you didn’t care. Peter’s identity was safe with his mask, and you wanted the whole work to know how happy he made you.

“That you’re a good person, and you’re gonna do big things.” You beamed up at him as you pulled away from the kiss, turning to lead him inside.

“So what else can this third eye tell you?” He asked curiously.

“It’s kinda like a gut feeling, to trust someone or not trust them. Like fight or flight, something’s not right kinda feeling. I just trust my gut, ya know.” You shrugged.

“I think I know exactly what you mean.” He said, and you turned to him with a raised brow before remembering your conversation from a week ago.

“Oh that’s right, like your spidey senses.” You chuckled, making sure to keep your voice low.

“My what?” His eyes went wide.

“You said you can sense when something bad's gonna happen. Although mine isn’t as specific and can’t be attributed to a radioactive spider.” You chuckled, walking to a secluded corner of the ballroom.

“Shh someone could hear you.” He whispered, you smiled, shaking your head, knowing everyone’s always drunk at these sorts of things.

Turning to face Peter, you raised your hands to straighten his bow tie. Your mind wandered to how great he looked in his suit. The feeling of butterflies swirling in your belly from the moment you saw him step through your door a few hours ago had barely worn off.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Wow,” you both muttered as your eyes landed on each other. You’d never seen him all dressed up like this. He looked good, really good. You gulped, trying to push the dirty thoughts from your mind.

His hair was slicked back, not the mess of curls you were used to. He looked so grown up. You could almost picture him commanding a Stark Industries board meeting or standing at the end of an isle. Wait- slow down Y/N, jesus.

He looked so natural, so dapper, and then he turns and gives you that signature goofy smile- there he is. It brought a smile to your face. How did you get so lucky? How could you have landed a guy as great and handsome as Peter Parker. Were the girls at his school brain dead? You would think everyone would want him. Kind, sweet, intelligent, respectful, and Christ he cleans up well. He was everything you’d ever dreamed of.

Have you just been staring this whole time? Jesus, Y/N say something, he’ll think you’re crazy, you thought.

“Are you ready to go?” You asked, trying to compose yourself. He only nodded, still not able to formulate words.

You were wearing red. His red. No- not his red obviously, but the same color of his suit. And god he loved it. He felt like you were wearing a piece of him. Like he had marked you, you were his.

“You look...” He trailed off, his eyes still wide. He cleared his throat and smiled, trying to compose himself. You could almost hear his internal monologue urging him on - Come on Peter, keep it together..., “You look... God Y/N. You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” You blushed. Of course that wasn’t the first time someone had told you that, but coming from Peter it felt different, “You look so handsome. Not your usual kind of suit, huh?” You smirked, causing him to chuckle as he pulled on his sleeves.

“I have your mask.” You smiled, still admiring him, holding the mask out to him.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Why doesn’t your mask hide your identity?” Peter asked, as the two of you watched more and more people file into the ballroom.

“Because people will know who I am anyway, and I’m not hiding.” You explained.

“How will they know?” He furrowed his brows, you shook your wrist in response.

“I don’t know anyone else with a custom blaster built into a bracelet. I’m also on the younger side, and pulled up in a ride with Stark Industries plates, so it wouldn’t take a genius.” You smiled, starting to recognize a few faces of regulars as you people watched.

“Do you always wear that thing?” He asked, holding up your wrist and examining it.

“No, I’ve got a watch for day to day wear that does the same thing. Dad may not give me a suit, but he won’t leave me completely defenseless. And it has come in handy.” You trailed off, remembering the not so fond memories of the last time you used it. Your ribs still ached if you thought about it long enough.

“Let’s hope you don’t have to use it tonight.” Peter said, craving one normal night without having to be a hero.

“Someone would have to be very ambitious to attack this place, they’ve got security out the wazoo.” You brushed off, praying tonight would go well.

A hush fell over the crowd as the charity president walked onto the stage and welcomed everyone. You felt Peter’s hand slip around your waist protectively as everyone pushed a little closer to the stage to hear. This part was pretty standard, basically a little speech to kick off the  night, a thank you for coming, and who to make all checks out to. Music filled the ballroom as the band began playing after the applause for the speaker died down.

“I’ll get us something to drink.” Peter nodded off towards the open bar.

You nod as he walks off and turn to admire the ballroom. Your eyes soon land on a familiar face.

“Dr. Strange,” You smile, greeting him.

“Dr. Stark,” He nods. You’d met a few times at these sorts of events. You hadn’t seen him for a while though, and there were rumors of an accident.

“How are you Stephen? I haven’t seen you since...” You paused to trying and remember, “Was it that benefit for the hospital a year ago?”

“Had to be, I’ve been... traveling.” He stated ominously. You glanced down to see the long thin scars along his fingers.

“Well it’s nice to have you back.” You smiled.

Peter now rejoined you at your side, slipping a drink into your hands- non-alcoholic of course, per May’s request. His other hand found its way to the small of your back.

“Peter, this is Dr. Stephen Strange.” You introduced him.

“Peter Parker,” He smiled, shaking the doctor’s hand. Something you couldn’t describe flashed over Peter’s eyes as they shook hands. Like a gut feeling he couldn’t quite place. For some reason his spidey senses were going off.

“Enjoy your evening, I need to check in at work.” Strange gave a curt nod and smile as he said his goodbyes. As he walked past you he dropped his voice to a whisper and spoke into your ear, “I like this one much better than the last.”

“Me too,” You whispered back with a smirk.

“So... how do you know him?” Peter asked curiously as the doctor excused himself to call the hospital.

“We run in the same circles, it’s a lot of the same people that come to these sorts of things. His hospital donates a lot of money to these causes and when he pisses off the board they send him to represent them as punishment.” You explained.

“This is a punishment?” Peter asked, dumbfounded.

“For a neurosurgeon it might just be,” You laughed, shaking your head, “I’m surprised he’s here.”

“Why?” He furrowed his brows.

“I heard he was in an accident not too far back. A bad one. I didn’t know he had gone back to work. Hmm...” You looked off to where the man had disappeared to.

“Care to dance, Parker?” You changed the subject, taking his hand into yours and placing your drinks onto the nearest table.

As the song changed to I Only Have Eyes For You by The Flamingos, he held you in his arms, swaying slowly. You were lost in him, hours could have passed, or seconds. As your bodies were pressed together you felt a sensation you could only describe as home.

“So has it been everything you dreamed it would be? These stuffy formalities for rich people to get drunk and spend money.” You chuckled as you looked up at him.

“It’s beautiful, but I guess, I mean it seems so glamorous from the outside.” He shook his head.

“Sorry to burst the bubble for you. It’s a little less Gatsby, and a little more, middle aged businessman doing coke in the bathroom.” You quipped.

Peter’s head immediately whipped towards the bathroom door where two men were emerging, one rubbing his nose.

“No way...” He looked back to you with wide eyes.

“You’d be surprised.” You chuckled.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After a little more dancing and mingling you and Peter made your way out onto the deserted balcony.

“Are you cold?” He asked, as he leaned onto the railing next to you. You were hiding it well but he still sensed it.

“A little.” You chuckled, cursing those spidey senses for giving you away.

Peter slipped off his coat and placed it over your shoulders. You thanked him as you turned to admire the moonlit lake below you. It was so quiet and peaceful, untouched by the party going on just on the other side of the glass doors.

“Did you have a good day?” Peter asked.

“Perfect.” You looked up to him and smiled, and you meant it.

“Um, so, Happy told me that you don’t like to celebrate your birthday but,” Peter began to speak, nervously. Your eyes grew wide, how in the world did he know it was your birthday? That was the one day you liked to keep private and out of the press. Only the Avengers, Pepper and Happy knew when it was. “I wanted to give you this. Everyone deserves at least one present on their birthday.”

“Peter you didn’t-” You shook your head, before he cut you off.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. And don’t worry, Mr. Stark swore me to secrecy so I won’t go announcing it to the world.” He reassured you as he reached into his pocket to pull out a little box.

“I know it’s not much, and I’m sure you have a million other fancy things, but I wanted you to have this.” Peter opened the box nervously, revealing a necklace. It was a single pearl and diamond dangling from a silver chain. Simple, but beautiful. “It was my mothers. Aunt May said that my dad gave it to her on their wedding day.”

Your jaw dropped slightly and your hand went over your heart.

“Peter, I-” How could you accept this? It was probably one of the last bits he had of his mother and he was just giving it away? You knew how much they meant to him, and he’d been through so much. With losing both parents so young and then his Uncle Ben not that long ago. Tears began to pool up in your eyes. Did he really care about you that much to part with something this important?

“Are you sure?” You asked softly.

“Of course I am. She would have loved you. She would have wanted you to have it.” Peter spoke, slipping the necklace on you as a single tear slipped down your cheek.

You turned back to him with a smile, he gently rubbed his thumb across your cheek to wipe the tear away. He didn’t know what to say- actually that’s a lie. He knew exactly what three words he wanted to say, but he thought it might be too soon and he might scare you. He absolutely didn’t want that. So he just smiled at you as you leaned in to kiss him.

You pulled away and wiped your tears, trying your best not to mess up your makeup.

“Thank you Peter.” You sniffled, chuckling at how silly you were being.

“Happy birthday.” He beamed as you heard the band strike up a slow song inside. He extended his hand to you, “Y/N Stark, can I have this dance?”

There was that goofy smile again, causing you to giggle as you placed your hand in his. He pulled you close, you rest your head on his shoulder as you both sway to the music. And for once in your life, everything was perfect.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

After everyone had said their goodbyes and they ushered you out of the venue, you and Peter began your short walk through the park to the Plaza Hotel across the street.

“Tonight was like a dream,” You said, as you swung your intertwined hands slightly.

“Haven’t you been to a million of these things.” Peter chuckled and shook his head.

“Yes, but I’ve never been to one with someone I love and it’s a very different experience I’ve learned.” You spoke, causing Peter to stop.

You turned to face him as you noticed his wide eyes, not believing the words that just came out of your mouth. It took him a minute to process. One, that meant you loved him. And two, that meant you were never in love with Thomas, since you’d been to these events with him before.

“Ok, you’re kinda scaring me now Peter,” You laughed nervously at his awestruck state.

“You love me?” He asked, and you answered with a nod and a smile.

He placed his hands on either side of your face and pulled you into a sweeping kiss.

“Am I dreaming?” Peter asks, pulling away, looking for any sign on your face that this was all some sort of joke.

“I sure hope not,” You chuckle.

“I love you too,” Peter beams at you, pulling you into another kiss.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

“Woah...” You and Peter both mutter as you push open the door to your hotel room. Now this was fancy. You felt like you were in a room in Buckingham Palace.

You both walked around, inspecting the room as you dropped your coats. You saw your bags in the corner that had already been brought up. You ran your hand over one of the pillows on the huge California King sized bed as your lips morphed into a smirk and an idea popped into your head. You clutched onto the pillow with one of your perfectly manicured hands as you spun around, whacking Peter with it.

“Hey!” He yelped, eyes growing wide at what you’d just done.

“Come on Parker, let’s see what you’ve got.” You tossed him another pillow from the bed with a smirk.

“O you’re gonna regret this,” He stalked towards you. You kicked off your heels and jumped onto the bed, standing up on your knees.

He swung his pillow as you ducked, it just missed you. You took the opportunity to whack him again. He looked at you with wide eyes, thinking, How had he missed?

“What? Couldn’t see that coming, bug boy?” You laughed. Taking those few seconds to gloat had proved fatal as you felt his pillow attack your side.

“Oof,” You feigned pain as you dropped backwards until your back hit the bed.

“Are you ok?” Peter asked, worried, thinking he’d really hurt you. With his super strength he was never sure.

You waited until he was kneeling next to you to jump into action, according to your plan. You jumped up, pushing him back onto the bed as you straddle him, grabbing your pillow and smacking him a few times.

“Ok, ok, you win!” Peter cried out, forfeiting.

“Yes!” You threw your pillow up in the air in victory. Peter looked up at you, still on top of him with your hair now a mess, hanging all around your face. He cherished the genuine smile on your face. All he wanted to do was kiss you, you looked so happy.

You crawled off of him and back onto the floor where you extended your hand to help him up. As he placed his hand into yours and rose to his feet, you didn’t notice his left hand reach for the pillow. Before you knew it, there was a pillow lightly thrown in your face.

“Peter!” You squealed through laughter. He knew you were about to retaliate when you reached for your own pillow on the bed. But he was faster, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you away.

“Come on, truce?” He asked as you struggled against his arms.

“Fine, truce.” You said, shaking his extended hand as he let you go.

“Hungry?” You asked, reaching for the room service menu on the desk and flipping through it.

“Starving.” He said, reading it over your shoulder.

After you had called in the food, you walked over to explore the rest of the room.

“They said it will be about an hour.” You told Peter, as you pushed open the door to the bathroom.

“So what do we do til then?” He asked, but you didn’t hear him.

“Jesus, look at the size of that tub.” You exclaimed, and Peter came over to your side to get a look at it too.

“Wow,” He said when his eyes landed on the giant clawfoot tub, “Um we definitely have to use that.”

You turned to face him with a smile.

“Really? You’d wanna do that?” You asked, who knew Peter Parker was a sucker for bubble baths.

“Absolutely. And do they have those big fluffy robes like in the movies?” He asked, excitedly, like a kid on Christmas.

You walked over to the closet and pulled the doors open, revealing two robes as described. You pulled them out and presented them to him.

“Cool...” His eyes lit up as he felt the material between his fingers.

You started to run the water, adding bath salts and bubbles, knowing it would take a while to fill the whole thing. Your things had already been brought to the room before you got there, so you got to work taking off your makeup and letting your now messy hair down.

You tried to reach for your zipper, as your body cried to be released from this skin tight dress.

“Hey Pete,” You called, and he strolled in the bathroom, now only wearing his dress pants and no shirt... and the butterflies were back. God how could he look that good, you stared shamelessly.

“You called?” He smirked, breaking your train of thought.

“Oh um, can you help me with my zipper?” You blushed, knowing you’d been caught.

“Mhm, turn around.” He instructed, before his fingers found the metal pull tab and he slowly worked it down, revealing more and more skin.

“There you go.” He smiled, placing a kiss on your shoulder, his gentle action nearly making you swoon. “I think the water’s ready if you want me to turn off the tap.”

“Yeah, yeah go ahead.” You nodded. You watched him turn off the spout and slip off his dress pants until he was just in his boxers. He folded them and set them aside before looking up to you. You were still holding your dress against your chest to keep it up, as the back gaped open and the thin straps slipped down your arms.

“Do you need help with that?” Peter asked, pointing to your dress, thinking you might need help taking it off. You thought you could manage, but on second thought you might need help. It was a tight dress and your stylist had helped you into it. You only nodded in response as Peter moved behind you. He gently helped you slip your arms through the straps and pulled the fabric down your body. He gave the fabric a quick tug as it struggled to get past your hips. You were now exposed in front of him. The dress was too tight for you to wear any sort of undergarments. He took you in for a moment before shifting his attention respectfully to the red indentations down your side from where the seams of the dress dug into you.

“Does this hurt?” He asked, gently rubbing his fingers down them.

“Not really,” You shook your head. He reached out his hand to help you into the tub without slipping.

You sank into the warm water as Peter dropped his boxers and joined you. Your eyes went wide at the size of him, and you looked away, a blush slowly crept onto your cheeks.

He must have noticed because the next thing you knew, a splash of water was hitting your face. You looked back to him in shock, he was sitting back laughing. You flicked your hand through the water, splashing him back.

You moved to do it again, but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you. You knew it was a good idea, if the two of you started going at it again like in the pillow fight, it would lead to a mess and an expensive clean up bill.

“Do they always book rooms this fancy for the galas?” Peter asked, taking in the room once more.

“I don’t know, this was the first time I’ve accepted it.” You shrugged, following his gaze up to the gold crown molding and chandelier.

“Really? I thought you did this all the time.” Peter assumed.

“No, I don’t make it a habit of jumping into tubs with strange men.” You joked.

“That’s not what I meant, and I’m not a strange man, I’m your boyfriend.” He teased as he pulled you towards him. You chuckled and placed your lips onto his quickly before pulling away.

“Say it again.” You smiled. He furrowed his brows for a moment before smiling.

“I’m... your... boyfriend.” He said slowly, placing a kiss on either cheek between words, his lips landing on yours after his last word.

He now had his arms around your waist, pulling you close as your lips collided. When you broke apart for air, he looked down at the necklace around your neck and smiled.

“This is a dream right? I’m dreaming.” Peter shook his head with a goofy grin, not being able to believe his eyes.

“Does this feel like a dream?” You asked, taking both of his hands and placing them onto your breasts. He responded by crashing his lips onto yours, he groaned against your mouth as he pulled you closer.

“It’s nice to know you dream about me Parker.” You quipped with a smirk as you broke apart for air. He chuckled at your cockiness.

“All the time, baby.” He replied, and the pet name rolled off his tongue before he even realized what he said. God you almost melted at the sound. It was your turn to crash your lips against his and let out a moan as his hand traveled down to squeeze your ass.

A knock at the door pulled you both apart as you stared at each other with wide eyes.

“Room service!” A voice called, causing you both to let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

The two of you sat at the dining table, both in your white fluffy robes with nearly dripping wet hair.

“God this is so good.” Peter said, stuffing his mouth.

“Mm, I know, I didn’t realize I was this hungry.” You said, doing the same. Who knew fancy hotels made burgers and fries this good.

You picked up a fry from your plate, waving it at Peter.

“Ready? Catch.” You said as you threw it across the table as Peter caught it in his mouth.

“Ok your turn,” Peter said, tossing one of his. You leaned to the side, nearly missing it, but catching it in your mouth. You thrust your fists in the air in celebration, causing Peter to chuckle.

The two of you ate and talked, before cleaning up.

“Ugh, I’m so full.” You groaned, falling back onto the bed, rubbing your full stomach, causing Peter to laugh.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Peter asked.

“Oo yeah, we should probably get out of these robes though.” You said, moving from the bed, not wanting to get it all wet.

“Here,” Peter said, moving to his duffle bag and tossing you one of his t-shirts. You slipped it on as he slipped on some boxers and hung up your robes. You glanced down at the Midtown Tech logo and smiled. The fabric fell down to the middle of your thigh.

“I like seeing you in my clothes.” Peter smiled as he approached you sitting on the edge of the bed and pulled you into a chaste kiss.

“Cafeul, soon all your sweatshirts are gonna go missing.” You said, making him laugh.

Peter sat with his back against the headboard, and motioned you over to him. You crawled across the bed and laid into his side as he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you close. He held the remote in his other hand, scrolling through options on the large screen.

“Have you seen this?” Peter motioned towards the screen.

“That’s my favorite movie.” You chuckled, smiling up at him as he immediately pressed start.

Peter absentmindedly played with your hair as the movie went on. As the credits rolled a few hours later you leaned up to face Peter.

“Thank you for today. As birthdays go, I gotta say this may be my best yet.” You spoke genuinely.

“Well it’s not over yet.” He stated after glancing at the clock on the bedside table.

“It’s not?” You smirk, as he pulls you closer.

“I think we were interrupted earlier.” He said slowly, a blush returning to your cheeks as you remembered the events that took place, or almost took place in the bathtub a few hours earlier.

“I think you’re right.” You whispered back, as you climbed onto his lap as his lips intertwined with yours.

You’ve kissed him before, that wasn’t new, but this time something was different. There was a hunger you couldn’t quite describe. His hands began to roam your body, trying to take in every inch of you. A strong arm wrapped around your waist, lifted you, and laid you down onto the bed as Peter now hovered over you.

You gasped at the sudden movement before smiling as Peter lowered his lips to yours once more.

“Y/N,” He said, making you stop and open your eyes, worriedly. Was he ok? Was this too much?

“I’ve never...” He began, nervously.

“That’s ok Peter, we don’t have to-” You tried to reassure him, but he shook his head.

“I want to, God I want to. I want to make you feel good.” He said, his hand traveling up your shirt and resting on your waist.

“Are you sure?” You asked, not wanting to push him into something he wasn’t ready for.

He nodded, muttering a yes as he brought his lips down to you once more, before pulling away.

“Are you?” He asked, making sure this wasn’t one sided.

“Absolutely.” You smiled, taking in the sight of him above you, reaching up to gently move a curl that was falling onto his face, brushing his hair back with your fingers.

And for the first time in your life, you realized why it was called ‘making love’. As much as the phrase made you cringe. As much as you hated when people said that, that was the only way you could think to describe what you and Peter just did. It was sweet but passionate. Peter was gentle yet ruthless in all the right ways. You figured it out together, through the giggles and moans. And as first times go, it was perfect.

For one night you got to be kids. Of course you were adults, just barely. But the two of you had more weight on your shoulders than most adults would ever have. You had responsibilities, that the safety of the city and the world depended on. But for one night, you got to be normal, you got to be kids. For one night you were free, and you cherished it, because neither of you knew how long it would last.

- - - - - 🕷 - - - - -

Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated! 

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[thegrimzuera]

1 + 4 for the ask game? I'm always down to hear more about Autumn! 😁❤️🧡

Ahhh you are the sweetest 💛 thank you!

Spoilers for my Kiribaku (Bakugou centric) fanfic In the Roaring Autumn are below the cut. If you haven’t read it yet, click the link to the story and take a gander! These answers are in response to this fanfic ask meme I reblogged yesterday.

1. If you had to create a soundtrack for your story, what songs would you choose? Why?

This is such a great question, and I’m going to interpret it more as songs that remind me of my story and the characters than as if I were constructing a film with background music.

The Lakes - Taylor Swift

This song is one I heard well into the writing process of In the Roaring Autumn, but it was one of those situations where I felt like my brain had been hacked and the guts of my story were spilled out in this gorgeous, cottagecore-esque song. The idea of running away into nature—away from society and the eyes that are always watching a little too closely—is so true to Katsuki’s desires in the story.

Lines like “I’m not cut out for all these cynical clones/ these hunters with cell phones” and “what should be over burrowed under my skin in heart-stopping waves of hurt/ I’ve come too far to watch some name-dropping sleaze tell me what are my words worth” stand out to me in particular. They really speak to Katsuki’s struggle to let go of his own past and all the devastation and guilt he feels because of it, and also the ways in which other people in his life (primarily Midoriya in this case) have tried to tell Katsuki what he meant with his own actions and what he must do in order to redeem himself.

And of course the fact that the narrator of the song isn’t escaping alone. They’re going to the lakes to look over cliff sides and be with the only person they trust—the only person who can understand the ways which they’ve been cast out. One might even say Kirishima is the “red rose” that “grew up from ice frozen ground.” Katsuki is escaping the bounds of society, but as the song says in its final line, not without his muse—not without Kirishima.

I Was an Island - Allison Weiss

I have no idea whether anyone else in the world knows this song or not (it could be a beloved classic or a complete unknown for all I know), but in my opinion it is THE quintessential Kiribaku song, and therefore it must be included. I have a feeling that it works in most any universe that includes Kiribaku, even (and especially) canon. But, I think of it particularly in regards to the last third or so of the story where Katsuki begins to pull back out of fear, deciding it’s better to avoid Kirishima altogether than to tell the truth about his struggles. The song deals with a lot of the same things Katsuki is going through—this idea that he was a loner and he liked it that way, and then Kirishima came along and changed all of that.

I imagine that Katsuki would particularly resonate with lines like “I was a fighter and I was so brave/ but I lowered my sword when you held me and swore you’d stay stay stay” “I was a wolf dear/ apart from the pack/ but you heard my cry in the dead of the night and told me that you had my back” and “I’m no good on my own anymore/ what did I do to deserve this/ what did you do to me/ baby come back, you know I don’t wanna be free”.

Medicine - Daughter

This song is so heavy and angsty and I love it for Autumn. I imagine that it could be from either/both Katsuki and Eijirou’s perspectives and they try to help each other out of unhealthy coping mechanisms and numbness. It’s all about how they both see each other’s worth and wish to communicate that. It’s about encouraging the best in each other, encouraging accountability, but also saying “hey, if you mess up once in a while, that doesn’t change who you are and what you’re capable of”. The opening line starts it off right for me “Pick it up/ Pick it all up/ And start again./ You’ve got a second chance/ You could go home/ Escape it all, it’s just irrelevant.”

Don’t mistake my brevity for lack of love for this song. I just thing the song really speaks for itself. If somehow you haven’t heard it in the blessed year of 2021, please go listen now! It’s one of my favorites.

That’s enough songs I suppose 😅 considering I rambled so much.

4. What are your main character(s) motivations? What do you consider their main drivers?

This question actually made me pause! I think because it’s been a while since Autumn ended and I want to get it right. At the time of writing I was very connected to Katsuki as a character, so while I didn’t necessarily ever put this into words, I definitely knew his motivation. I’ll start with him and try to put myself back in his shoes for a moment.

Katsuki’s motivation more than anything else, I think, is to feel safe. There may have been a time when he wanted to be the best, but we come into his life at a point where he’s kind of thrown his hands up and said “Fuck that bullshit!” It’s something that Katsuki realizes is out of character for himself—so out of character that he no longer knows how to function. He’s living his life on the run in a way, choosing isolation as a means of protecting himself from things that he sees as threats to his well-being: consequences, human relationships, the wrestling team as a whole, and the concept of processing his trauma. We see him build wall after wall throughout the story, but we also see Kirishima peeling those walls away brick by brick. Soon enough Katsuki stops looking at Kirishima as a threat to his safety, and he begins to see him as a help to his safety. It’s a beautiful change, but through it all Katsuki’s motivation stays the same. I would say even with the lessons that Katsuki learns and the ways he grows, the moral is never that he was wrong for prioritizing his mental health and well-being. That was very important to me.

Kirishima’s motivation is a little more difficult for me to pin down (haha, wrestling puns), especially in hindsight. I think I’m looking for some sort of deep or abstract answer when in reality, the thing driving Kiri is the desire to be good. He’s made some poor choices in the past, and they were choices he knew were poor even when acting them out. It’s something that weighs heavily on him—something that has altered the way that he lives his life in a very permanent sense. Kirishima wants to do the right thing; it’s the reason he’s so willing to examine Midoriya’s actions and motives when (as Katsuki mentions) everyone else sees Midoriya’s gentle demeanor and assumes the best in him. It’s also the reason that Kirishima emphasizes Katsuki’s own goodness to him. Kirishima knows what it’s like to feel less than, or to feel that you’ve fucked up so supremely that you have no honor at all. Not only does he want to prevent Katsuki from feeling those things, he actually views Katsuki as the morally superior between the two of them and looks to Katsuki as an example of authenticity, honesty, heart, and goodness.

Thank you for sending in these lovely questions! It was so fun to recall where my brain was at the time of writing this story and in some ways examining it from a deeper perspective. I really need to dedicate more time to writing my upcoming fic because CLEARLY I have the urge to spill a lot of words into the universe right now.

[justreadingfics]

His Girl (Revamped Version)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You’re perfect. Anyone who could read his thoughts would say he’s cheesy, but he genuinely can’t find a single flaw in you. Well, maybe the only problem is the man by your side.

Warnings: Angst, Cheating, Love Triangle, Pining, Smut, Revamped version of first fic written by the author, 18+.

Word Count: 4k.

A/N: Hi!! I’m sorry to say but this isn’t something entirely new. I’ve been thinking about revamping the first fic I’ve ever wrote for a while now. I love the story, but every time I read the original, it made me cringe for several reasons. I like this version better, but I haven’t sent this to a beta and you all know English isn’t my first nor my everyday language, so you may still find a significant number of cringy stuff, lol. If you read it and like it, don’t hold back on the feedback 😊 I’m tagging my permanent list.

Masterlist link on description.

He pays no mind to the loud beating of the music thundering into his ears, nor to the sea of dancing bodies and cheerful laughs around him as he makes a beeline for the bar. Another one of Tony’s big shindigs, one he can barely remember the reason for, if there ever has been one to start with…

He has lost count of how many he had to attend since he had joined the team. He hates it, of course he does. Everybody knows it… Bucky Barnes hates parties. He hates so many eyes which cross path with his, some condescending, some pitiful, others gleaming with fear… or hatred. He hates them all, but he knows he still deserves them all.  

It has been a slow process after he came back from Wakanda, where Shuri has finally found a treatment for the trigger words and other horrors Hydra had seen fit to grace his mind with. He still struggles… with social events, with talking to people, with letting them in, showing himself… What could they see if they really look?

He hates parties, yeah… but he goes to all of them. For one and only reason. He takes a seat by the bar and, while he waits for the whisky he just ordered, his gaze roams and search through the crowd, looking for the reason he’s there after all…

You.

It’s been like this from the moment he laid his eyes on you. His gaze always searching, seeking you, longing that the sight of you can ease the ache in his chest that comes with the absence of your touch. To be honest, Bucky can’t understand why you have this effect on him,  you two have barely exchanged more than two words and, even if his gaze is always sneakily on you, he shies away whenever you draw near. He rather keep his distance… he needs to.

But he’s completely and utterly infatuated by you. Not like he remembers much of his life, but he’s damn certain he has ever felt this way about anyone. Ever. He can’t stop thinking about how you held his left hand with no sign of hesitance when you two were introduced.  He was so entranced by you that he’s sure he has held on to your touch longer than socially acceptable, and yet you didn’t make a move to let go before he did. He’s obsessed by the way your hips swing from side to side when you walk,  by how you always looks straight into the eyes of whomever you’re talking to, the way your nose crinkles when you laugh and a small and adorable snort comes out of you… yeah, your laugh! The most amazing sound Bucky has ever heard. And there’s always a smile on your lips, for everyone.

Except for him.

Why, after that first time you two met, wouldn't you speak to him again?  Fear… That’s the only possible explanation in Bucky’s mind. Of course you would be frightened by him…The Winter Soldier, the Fist of Hydra, the Assassin… He may be called the White Wolf now, but it doesn’t erase what came before…  

With the whiskey now in his hands, his lips barely touch the glass when he finally spots you.

There you are, his reason, across the room, laughing while Sam says something. At that moment and every other moment, Bucky wishes he could be the lucky bastard who’s able to make you laugh like that. He takes a minute to take in the sight of the woman who he keeps up all night thinking about. You have your hair styled on that way you always have at parties. Bucky knows you choose that style because it’s easier and then you can do your hair yourself, oblivious to the fact that it drives him crazy with want to dive his fingers through your locks and tilt your head so he can ravish your neck with kisses and intake the sweet scent of you…

He gulps as his gaze falls down your body and he notices what you’re wearing that night. A long black dress. The side slit goes high enough to make Bucky’s heart speed up as he takes in the exposed skin of your thigh. The deep V neckline isn’t doing any good to his mental state either…

God, you’re perfect. Anyone who could read his thoughts would say he’s cheesy, but he genuinely can’t find a single flaw in you.

Well, maybe the only problem is the man by your side. Holding your hand the way Bucky only can in his dreams. The lump is thick on his throat at the reality.  

Steve Rogers. Captain America.

His Stevie. Bucky’s best friend and brother, the punk who started a fucking war with the rest of the World to defend him. The one who introduced you to Bucky.

You…

His girl.  

And that’s the reason why, besides the fact he damn sure scares the shit out of you, Bucky would never get to touch you, feel your skin on his. Breathe you in… Taste you…. The reason why he avoids any kind of close contact and is happy to worship your image from a distance. He can’t , by any means, give in to his feelings or get closer to you. He can’t take that chance.

He’s been fighting… against himself. He’s been dating around, trying hard to get you out of his head out of his very soul if he’s going to be honest.  But all he accomplished is to compare every single woman he’s seen with you, and wonder how it would feel if you were the one he was holding, kissing, making love to.

“Jesus, you’re so screwed.”

Drowned in his thoughts Bucky has missed the redhead approaching, martini in her hand, sitting on a stool next to him with a smirk on her lips.

“What are you talking about, Romanoff?” He tries to play the ignorance card, knowing damn well that it would be pointless. The stunning spy is able to read his mind like no other, Steve included. Maybe it’s their shared past, the one they never speak of, but lingers in the air. The ex-assassins simply understand each other.

“Please Barnes, you’re wounding me.”  Natasha rolls her eyes and brings the drink to her lips.  

Bucky bites on his lips before letting out a humorless chuckle, “That obvious, huh?” He says, defeat in his voice and a hint of worry that his secret may not be as hidden as he thought.

“To me, yes”.  She shrugs before spending a moment observing him, while he goes back to watching you across the room, hand in hand with his best friend.  With a sigh, Natasha kindly places her empty hand on the soldier’s shoulder. “Just be careful, Bucky. Neither of you have been much discreet lately. Everyone else is a bit dumb, but I don’t know…”

Bucky snaps his head back to her, as his eyebrows knit close together, spotting the rare sympathetic smile on her tightened lips.

“What do you mean? In what way she’s not being discreet?”  

The empathy on Natasha’s face falls and is swiftly turned into a familiar glare. Letting out a huff, she stands up and turns her back to him, leaving Bucky behind, mumbling words that his enhanced hearing catches as “Stupid Super Soldiers. No Serum in the brains, for sure”.

He’s left confused as he watches Natasha joining the rest of the gang who is now sitting by a round table close to the dance floor. As usual, she takes the chair next to Clint and orders for another drink. Bucky moves his eyes to Steve, who has his back to him, sitting across the Widow, leaning forward to say something to her. She responds by pointing to the bar where Bucky stands.

Steve turns his head to his best friend and whey their gazes meet, the blonde grins and waves, calling Bucky towards the gathered group.

Finding no way to decline the offer, Bucky sighs before he nods and heads to the table that is also accommodating Sam, Wanda and Maria Hill. Getting close, his heart rushes to his throat when notices that the only empty seat is the one next to you, who have your back turned to him.

“Hey Buck, come here and take a seat, the food is amazing,” Steve says with a mouthful, pointing with the fork to the mountain of food in his plate.

The fact that his fellow Super Soldier is the only one eating – the exorbitant amount of food- makes him think of the skinny kid from Brooklyn who could barely finish a whole glass of milk. The memory brings a warm smile to Bucky’s face, which fades as soon as he spots your stiffened shoulders as you glance nervously at the empty seat beside you, still avoiding to look at him.

“Ahm, I don’t know pal, I’m not really that hungry” Bucky replies, brushing the back of his neck. The last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable by imposing his closeness.

“Oh, come on Tin Can, grace us with your broodiness… It’s not like you have somewhere else to go. Or do you already have a broad waiting?” Sam asks, emphasizing the outdated slang in an attempt to tease his centenary friend.

Missing how you take a long sip from your own whiskey, Bucky pretends to be amused by the conversation and makes a face to Sam. He can’t find it in him to prolong the subject or to say no the puppy eyes Steve always wear to break him and never fails, so he pulls out a chair and takes his seat. Right beside you.

Steve goes back to his food and the group goes back to chatting. The words are far from the focus of his attention as it’s so damn easy for him to feel the heat irradiating from your body, so close to him all he has to do is... Bucky’s glad for Sam and his never stopping mouth as no one seems to notice how his whole body flinches when his right thigh ever so lightly brushes against yours under the table. He quickly pulls his leg away, but not before goosebumps spring unbidden across his skin at the brief yet burning touch.

He’s expecting you to move the chair closer to Steve, to prevent any kind of contact with him to happen, but… but instead, she leans back on his touch, seeking the overwhelming sensation again, brushing her leg against his and leaving it there.

All the sound around him fades away, replaced simply by the thundering sound of his beating heart.

Every single inch of him is completely stiffened when he rests his hand on his leg and by the corner of his eyes he sees you furtively doing the same thing. Feeling a rush of boldness and a lack of better judgment, he moves it closer to yours until your pinkies link between your laps. He feels dizzy when you softly caress his finger with yours and all of a sudden, like it’s the most natural thing to do, he has all of his fingers tightly interlocked with yours.

His holding hands with you under the table cloth and it’s so damn hard to breathe now. Bucky’s mind runs in full speed, matching his heart, but yet, for that moment, time seems to freeze and everything’s slow motion as a forbidden, yet beautiful promise takes over his senses.

No… It wasn’t fear the reason why she kept his distance from him… She’s touching him, he has her soft hands on his. And it feels so right…

“Are you ok, Barnes? You’re as pale as a ghost.”

Bucky’s stupor is swiftly interrupted by a familiar voice in the far distance. It’s Natasha, of fucking course.

The unwanted attention makes you quickly remove your hand and back away your leg.

Bucky feels empty.

“Ahm, Yeah I..I guess I need another drink, I’ll be right back” Bucky’s chair screeches against the floor as he stands up and leaves the table, choosing to ignore Natasha’s suspicious look. To his relief the rest of their friends are apparently unfazed and oblivious to anything.

In need of a place to calm his restless state, he heads to the rooftop. Getting out of the elevator, he takes in the fresh air, relishing into the breeze of the night and, watching the city lights, the puzzled events of the last couple of minutes keep running over in his mind.  You touched him… he can still feel the burning where your skin met and he knows that you were as much affected by it as him… What the hell’s happening?

The quietness of the rooftop is broken by the elevator ding behind him. His heart jumps when he turns his head and spots the person coming out of it. He can’t. He can’t hold back a second longer anymore, and without even thinking, he takes two quick steps, closing the distance between you and him to press his lips against yours. As he pulls you to him, you immediately kiss him back, one hand tangling in his lose locks, while the other snakes up his chest.

Without breaking the sloppy and needy kiss, Bucky pins you against the nearest wall. He’s so drunk in your taste, he doesn’t want to let you go…Not again. Not now. He feels the whiskey you’ve been drinking mixed with your Chapstick and something sweet, that he knows it’s all you and he thought he would never get to taste.

Finally…

Both of your arms circle his neck while one hand still holds the back of his hair in a grip. You gasp for air and Bucky takes the chance to ravish your collarbone with a trail of hot kisses, reaching your pulse point to lightly bite on it. You let out a moan and while you tighten  the hold on his locks, Bucky realizes he has never listened to anything as beautiful.

“I need you… Please.” You’re breathless when you whisper the words to his ear, reaching down between your bodies to palm the bulge straining his pants.

If Bucky had a tiny bit of control until then, it is completely lost now with the husky plea coming from your lips.  He captures your mouth once again, and moving quickly, he travels his hand up your exposed leg through the dress slit, burying his fingers under the band of your underwear to find the velvet skin already damp. He lightly brushes the little nub there and the sensation pulls a primal groan from him and a deep sigh from you through the kiss.  

Tangling his tongue into yours, he pulls the black lace material down and when it falls to your knees, you wiggle your legs to let it drop to the floor before you step out of it. Without breaking his lips from yours, Bucky quickly goes to his belt, as you pull the skirt of your dress by the side slid up to your waist. When his erection springs free, Bucky holds your leg up to open you for him and just can’t waste anymore time as he guides his impossibly hard cock to your wet entrance.

It’s almost too much… the sensation of being inside you, so damn close, the velvet heat tightening around him…a kind of intimacy he only dreamed about. You cling to him as he slowly pushes himself further and the air leaves him a sharp exhale when he bottoms out. Only then, your lips detach from his as your breaths come out short.  

Keeping your leg locked around his waist, he uses his metal hand to support himself on the wall, while you maintain a firm grip on his shoulders.  You two exchange gazes for what feels like the first time and for a moment you just stay like that, staring to each other, studying every little inch of each other’s faces… Getting acquainted… Body and soul, Bucky suspects, as something entirely new and powerful grows inside him. A sense of calm, of peace, of belonging…

When he starts to move, he goes slow at first, allowing you two to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. You fell so damn good around him, better than any day and night dream he ever had, he realizes, as his flesh hand leave your leg, secured around his waist, to pull down the shoulder straps of your dress. One, then the other, dropping down your arms and exposing your breasts to him.

Beautiful, so damn beautiful, it makes him breathless…

He watches as your eyes close and your lips part a little, whimpering in sheer ecstasy, when he grabs one of your breasts into his hand, never stopping the slow and deep move of his hips. He gently massages the soft flesh, and can’t take his eyes off your face as the slight shift of expressions in synch with his actions shows how much pleasure he’s giving to you.

“Oh, Bucky…”

Hearing the whisper of his name in your mouth, especially in such a sinful way, makes his heart melt and his cock twitch inside of you.  His thrusts grow faster and the two of you become a mess of heavy breaths and moans. Bodies glued together, your skin is hot against his and your breathe tingles over his neck. It’s perfect. And it feels so right, so damn right, when your pussy clenches around him…

He needs to feel it again and the frenzy you both share boosts when Bucky’s flesh fingers meet your clit.  He circles the nub in fast, harsh circles as you tighten your leg around him for support.  A slight change in the angle and the extra stimulation makes you let out a scream of pure ecstasy. He feels it coming as your cunt grips his cock in the most delicious way.

Your whole body shakes against him as you let out a wanton moan, signaling your climax. As you fall apart, Bucky’s fingers leave your heat to hold you tightly by your waist. He  knows he isn't going to last much longer, he just can’t, even if he wants to have you like this forever, breathless in the pleasure he’s provided you with while he can feel your heart thunders against your chest and your tongue brushing over the skin of his neck.

“I need to taste you,” you breathe and it startles him for a second when you push at his chest, forcing him to pull out of your pulsing heat.

His mind goes blank when you sink to your knees and grip the base of his cock, coated in your arousal, and your mouth wraps around the throbbing tip. He watches down in awe, supporting himself with both arms on the wall. Your soft lips around his cock makes him lose his fucking senses and a few bobs of your head is already too much for him to handle.

“I.. I’m … gonna…. ”, Bucky tries to warn you, only making you grab his ass and clutch his hips still, not letting him pull away from you.

He groans loudly and can’t hold back anymore before you take everything he has to offer, not missing a single drop of the most powerful orgasm he ever had.

Struggling to breathe and gather his thoughts again, Bucky offers his hand to help you get on your feet and pulls you in a tight embrace as his forehead leans against yours, sharing the blissful state.

He loves you.

If he didn’t know that before, it’s pretty damn clear now. He loves you and this love will ruin him. Of that he’s sure, while he holds your half naked body to his.

When breathing  isnt’t so hard anymore, you’re the first one to speak.

“I love Steve… I really do.”

Bucky’s eyes close and he sighs at the mention of his friend’s name.

“Yeah, I know, I love that punk too,” he responds matter-of-factly in a sad smile.

“You must think I´m a-” A sob breaks through your lips before you have the chance to continue.

“Shhh,” He whispers as he cups your face and uses his thumb to caress your cheek and wipe the tears falling down. “Never,” he assures you, shaking his head, “I would never think anything like that of you.”

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” you add, pleading for him to believe, and Bucky hates to hear the sorrow in your beautiful voice.

“I know sweetheart, I know…” He tries to sooth you, even if his own heart is breaking at how ashamed you seem to be of what just happened, prompting his own guilt to tighten his throat.

“I don't want to hurt him,” You add. “But you…” The whisper is low as you lean your face against the touch of his hand, shutting your eyes.  “God, I can’t take you of my mind ever since I first saw you, not matter how hard I tried. I’ve been going crazy,” You breathe hard as your eyes open and you look up at him, gripping hard the back of his suit with your hands.

Bucky’s heart beats harshly against his ribcage at your confession. “I know the feeling,” he says in the steadiest voice he can manage, keeping the brush of his thumb on your cheeks. “All I think about is you, all the time.” He almost can’t believe he’s actually telling you this, “I-I´m in-”

You don’t let him finish when you abruptly part from him, ceasing any kind of touch. The pained expression in your face is nothing but a plea, one that begs him: “please don’t say it”.

He doesn’t. He sulks in a breath and doesn’t say he’s completely and desperately in love with you and it feels so right even if he knows how damn wrong it is.

You bite on your lips and a heavy silence falls upon you as you fix your dress and hair, allowing him to put himself together, too. Your head drops, before you lean down and take your underwear from the floor.  

“This can’t … won’t happen again,” You manage to make your words convincing, standing up in front of him as your jaw clenches, holding the small piece of black lace tightly in your hand.

Bucky shuts his eyes and nods. He knew this was coming, but the fact does nothing to ease the pain of hearing those words.

When he feels your grip on his chin, his eye pop open. You two stare at each other for a long moment, sharing the words, the ones forbidden to be said out loud, before you lock your lips together again.  

As he pulls you to him, he focuses on every move, every touch, every sensation. Your tongue brushing against his, how he can feel himself and you through the sweet taste of your mouth, your skin, the shallow breaths and small whimpers, your hand into his hair… He clings to all of it. Memorizing how you feel, holding the sensations into his mind… his heart.

Bucky feels your hand slipping inside a pocket on his pants before you break the kiss and, without looking at him again, you run past him towards the elevator.

He sighs, bringing his fingers to his lips, as if this way he would make the phantom of your touch last longer… His gaze turns to the city lights when he hears the elevator going down and he places his hands inside his pockets.

His lips turn up in a longing smile, already missing the touch of yours, while his fingers play absent-mindedly with the piece of lace he finds inside his pocket.

He knows it would all come eventually, the sorrow, the guilt, the heartache. The pain. But at that moment, all he feels is you…

You….

His girl.

~~~~~~

The end. 

[snowdice]

Goblin Brain Study Session Fic 1 [Day 58]

Because I don’t want to just have walls of text for my Goblin Brain Study Session posts, I’m separating them by days. If you want to read the previous chapters, click the links below. Chapter 23 and what’s done of chapter 24 is under the cut.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 My Master Post

See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. Also, if you’re interesting, don’t forget that I am constantly updating the timeline as I write. :)

Okay, I’m still not feeling 100%, but lets see how much I can do today. :)

Chapter 23

“Would anyone care to explain themselves?” Logan asked the room filled with the most frustrating human being he’d ever met. He must have infused his voice with the desired amount of ire, because everyone in the room seemed to wince simultaneously except…

“No thanks!” Remus chirped. Logan shot him a tired look and stepped forward. “Wait! Dad! No!” Logan swiftly put him in a headlock.

“We’re going downstairs,” he told the others. His son was a bit wiggly when Logan started to pull him towards the elevator in the other room, but he didn’t actually put up much of a fight.

 He let Remus go when they got to the elevator. The elevator was small enough that they ended up taking it in two groups. Logan ended up in an elevator with Lena, his sons, and his brother.

There were a couple of moments of awkward elevator music. “I am very displeased with everyone in this elevator.”

No one responded but Patton who patted him on the shoulder. Logan turned on him. “You are at the pinnacle of my ire.”

There was a few seconds of drawn out silence, and then Patton removed his hand. “Wow,” he said after a moment. “You could hear a pen-acle drop.”

 “Kids, you no longer have an uncle,” Logan said coolly.

“That’s right,” Patton said with a smile despite the glare Logan was sending him. “You only have a puncle now.”

Roman snorted out a laugh but looked quickly away when Logan glared at him.

The elevator came to a stop and they climbed out of it. “You all go to the conference room while I wait for the rest. Except you,” he pointed at Lean. “Fred can debrief me. You go get that checked out.” She shot him a thumbs up (because apparently the lack of disrespect for his authority had rubbed off on her) and wandered off towards medical.

 “Um,” Roman said tentatively.

“Yes?” Logan asked, already even more tired.

“Also, Janus may or may not have a broken rib. At least he said he might have.”

“Why on Earth is he walking around, then?” Roman just shrugged in response to Logan’s question.

“And send someone down to look at his Janus,” he called after Lena right before she turned the corner. “Anything else pressing?” he asked the three still with him. “No? Then I’ll see you all in the conference room in a few minutes.”

“Conference room 16 or 17?” Remus asked.

“Remus, everyone here is aware that room 17 is a broom closet,” Logan said.

Remus sent him finger guns. “Conference room 17 it is,” he said turning to strut off down the hall. Roman shot Logan an awkward half smile before following after his brother, and Logan’s own brother jerked forward to smack his lips against Logan’s forehead before waltzing off after them.

Why was his family like this?

 He turned to wait for the elevator to go back up to the factory and down again. He crossed his arms as it arrived. “You’re injured?” Logan asked as the doors opened.

Most of the occupants looked confused, but Janus looked slightly annoyed. “Remus,” he muttered.

“Roman actually,” Logan corrected. “I’m having someone sent down to look at you.”

“I’m f-”

“Don’t even try to argue right now; your second on my list today.”

“Remus is first?” Janus asked.

“Of course, Remus is first.”

“Where am I on the shit list?” Remy asked with interest.

“Somehow, only 5th.”

“Score!”

“But you’re inexorably moving up.”

 “But I’m not in the top three.”

“No, my children and brother fill up the spots above you.”

“You said I was second,” Janus said with a frown.

“Yes,” Logan said. “Also, you’re grounded.” Then, he turned to walk towards the conference room.

“Wait, Logan, what does that mean?!” Janus asked his back.

“It means, Logan owes me a buttload of child support,” said Remy.

“I am not your kid. You are not my dad.”

“Sure, son.”

When Logan made it to the correct room, his family was already hard at work making his life a series of aggravations. Before even stepping into the room, he turned to the opposite side of the hallway and opened the door to the supply closet.

 “Get in the correct room before I make you get into the correct room,” Logan said.

“Come on dad, you know it’s not nice to force someone out of the closet.” On most days, Logan would not have found that at all funny, but today for some reason, it elicited a snort of surprised laughter. Remus smiled up at him from his seat on the floor like he always did when he’d done (or thought he’d done) something clever.

“Don’t,” Logan warned, wagging a finger at him. “Don’t. That doesn’t mean your forgiven. I am very, very unhappy with you.”

 Remus just kept grinning.

“I’m relieved that you are safe and happy to have you back with me,” Logan said, “but I am also very angry.”

“Eh, that’s fair.”

“Now get out of the closet.”

Remus found it fit to obey him for the moment, and stood, following him to the conference room where the others had gathered. Patton had somehow found a stack of name tags and a box of markers somewhere and had managed to convince Roman to help him draw little pictures on them along with the names. Patton stuck one with a broom drawn on it onto Remus when he came in.

 Remy and Fredrick were currently forcing Janus into a chair while Roman avoided the glare the injured man was sending at him, and Emile was talking quietly to Virgil.

“Okay,” Logan said. “Let’s start with the ones who haven’t started to explain yet. Roman?”

“My phone got broken probably somewhere between Janus tackling me and hitting me in the face.”

“Oh, is that why Dad texted me about where you were a thousand times?” Remus asked

“Yes,” Logan said, “and you said you didn’t know.”

“I didn’t say that actually.”

“Remus.”

“I was in the middle of something! …And then I forgot.”

 “And then it ended up in the bottom of a lake,” Roman said.

“And then it ended up in the bottom of a lake!” Remus agreed. “Along with Roman’s car and us for a minute.”

“You drove your car into a lake?” Logan asked Roman. “Is that why you are all wet?!”

“Yes, he did!” Remus said.

“Hey! No!” Roman said. “I managed to stop the car before it went into the lake. It’s not my fault the guys behind us aren’t as good drivers as me and slammed into us!”

“Roman destroyed another car!” Remus crooned. “What’s that? Three? And you say Janus is cursed!”

 “I take so responsibility for the Taurus or for this one!”

“Two’s a coincidence; three’s a pattern!” Remus sang joyfully.

Logan shook his head at them and chose to look over at Janus instead. “And you?” he asked. “You looked at your mission details and never responded.”

“You were trying to send me on a wild goose chase when my brother was missing!” He tried to stand up and Remy pushed him back down again.

“I was trying to get you in a controlled environment before telling you of the issues for fear you would overreact and do something careless if you found out on your own.”

 “I already knew,” Janus growled, “and that is not your call to make.”

Logan considered that. “Perhaps it wasn’t,” he agreed, “but you still should have attempted to communicate with me, at the very least so I would have known you were okay. For all I knew, Nelson had caught you in a lie and your cover had been blown.”

“It is blown,” Janus muttered. “I smashed her phone, blew up her car, and disobeyed her. She sent men to kill me.”

It was honestly a relief. Janus had been in danger constantly while being a double agent and he’d grown more than fond of the man in the last few years. Not having to play nice with Barbara all the time would do him some good.

“We’ll have to reassign you,” Logan said. “As well as Remus, and you’ll both need new permanent residences.”

“We already decided we’re getting an apartment together,” Remus said.

“You decided,” Janus said weakly, clearly not actually interested in protesting, but needing to keep up appearances.

“And we’re going to get a kitty.”

“Ah,” Logan said. “Well, in that case, I would highly suggest you verify it is in fact a ‘kitty’ before you allow it on the premises. I have made that mistake before.”

“You love Raphael,” Remus claimed.

“Possum,” Roman explained at Janus’s questioning look.

“In fact,” Logan said. “It may be advisable that Remington consider moving as well. Nelson very much knows where you live and will likely be unhappy with your continued existence. At least, you should consider taking up residence somewhere else temporarily. For tonight, I’ll get everyone set up in some of the rooms in the base, but that will come later. For now, we need to get everything sorted out. I have a good overall idea about what happened at this point, is there any other important information I need to deal with immediately?”

Mostly everyone shook their heads and Logan was about to move on to getting more detailed reports when Remus raised his hand.

“Yes?” Logan asked.

“There are two of Barbara Nelson’s men tied up in the trunk of Lena’s car,” he offered.

“What?” Logan asked.

“They were the guys shooting at us that caused Roman to drive into the pond.”

“I did not drive into the pond.” Roman said.

“You were shot at?!”

  Chapter 24

Logan had kept them in the meeting room for literal hours, pausing only to feed everyone except Patton and Virgil (who had actually eaten dinner). Eventually, he decided that he was satisfied with the explanations (Well, no, perhaps not satisfied, he was still very displeased with everyone except Virgil and maybe Emile, though Emile had not helped himself when he’d realized that he’d spoken both to Patton and Remus in the grocery store near Remy’s house and he and Patton had proceeded to go off on a tangent about pasta.) and had taken them all to some of the hotel style rooms in the base.

[keepingupwithlinmanuel]

Inside ‘We Are Freestyle Love Supreme,’ The Documentary That Took More Than a Decade to Make

For years, the Freestyle Love Supreme experience was a “completely ephemeral” one, as founding member Thomas Kail puts it. Only those in the small, usually 99-seat, theaters who witnessed one of the hip-hop improv group’s shows live shared in the unique memory and magic of what they delivered. But through Andrew Fried’s documentary “We Are Love Supreme,” debuting on Hulu July 17, some of those performances have been given more permanence.

“It was like we were writing poetry and lighting it on fire. And later we ended up writing a couple of novels and people liked our novels,” Kail, who also executive produced the documentary, says of the difference between Freestyle Love Supreme’s shows and “In The Heights” and Hamilton.” “We thought, ‘Well, what if we go back and show them some of the poetry we wrote?’ It informed and infused the novels.”

As Freestyle Love Supreme founding member and “In The Heights” and “Hamilton” scribe Lin-Manuel Miranda explains it, improv-rapping with Freestyle Love Supreme “became this skill set that sharpened all of the other skill sets that were important to me. ‘96,000’ in ‘In The Heights’ was very much drawn from the back-and-forth of Freestyle Love Supreme. As I grew more confident as a writer, I grew more confident knowing that I would have something to say when I got up on stage to audience suggestions, and then performing with Freestyle sharpened my brain so I could infuse my writing with spontaneity.”

...

Only Fried, for example, had boxes of tapes and hard drives of footage that included Miranda busking in the street or Miranda and Christopher Jackson performing on stage together well before “In The Heights,” let alone “Hamilton.” He had early looks at Kail making his directorial debut, as well as Kail and Miranda workshopping “In The Heights.” And then there were early performances by Anthony Veneziale, Andrew Bancroft, Arthur Lewis, Bill Sherman and Chris Sullivan, too. Fried’s personal relationship with the group allowed for a trust and comfort level, he says, which in turn had him capturing candid moments of Miranda talking about leaving singledom behind and Ambudkar’s journey to get sober.

“That connection that you get on stage with with those people in particular, is unlike anything that I’ll have in my career. It’s just too special,” Ambudkar says. “There’s this talk at the very end of the movie where it’s like, ‘Oh, by the way, this guy could have been in ‘Hamilton.’ But, I think the thing to take away is that the relationship of the guys has been so strong and so family first. Something that business-wise was probably an extreme letdown for Tommy and Lin, where they’re like, ‘We’ve brought this guy in and he couldn’t deliver,’ turned into the entire group galvanizing around me, linking arms and supporting me — along with everyone else in my life — during that very challenging time that I had to go through and still go through.”

It wasn’t until 2018, when the Off-Broadway run of Freestyle Love Supreme was being set up, that Kail says he called Fried and said, “‘Why don’t we finish the movie we were making 10, 15 years ago?’ And he said, ‘We were making a movie?’ And I said, ‘Well we are now.”

Looking back over the footage through their more mature lens gave them new appreciation for both their energy and spirit back in the day, as well as where it helped them get today.

“It felt like measuring on a door: ‘We were this high then and this is how much we’ve grown,'” Kail says.

Adds Ambudkar: “The first rap I ever did on stage was in Freestyle Love Supreme. And just to watch that dude, a young guy with his baggy, baggy pants just jumping so much, so much bravado, there’s so much movement in that body. When you see later footage of m there’s a lot less of that fluidity, but there’s more polish to it. I kind of miss the exuberance of that kid, but I know that the mind is much sharper than it used to be.”

The one thing everyone involved in Freestyle Love Supreme knows is that nothing beats the vibe inside the theater during a live performance. Miranda admits that seeing the same piece played out on-screen can come with “a degree of skepticism.” That’s why it was so important for him that “We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” “deconstructed and peeled back as much of the process as possible.”

“Wouldn’t that be so freeing, to really be able to say whatever’s in your head, understanding that it stays within that pre-2005 sensibility of, ‘This is for those of us in the room’?” Miranda says of the group’s approach to live shows. “Not only was the show so dependent on us listening to the audience and the audience listening to us, but when we do the show now, we’re putting you in a time machine.”

And the fact that “We Are Freestyle Love Supreme” is launching just weeks after the “Hamilton” movie made its own debut is not lost on Miranda. But he calls the timing “total serendipity.”

“There’s this documentary about this thing we were all doing first, and I think they pair very nicely. It’s so interesting to see what we come up with in real time and then contrast that with a musical it took me seven years to write,” he says.

[jeonggukingdom]

your every wish is my command (m)

▽ Pairing: Jeongguk x Reader

▽ Genre: genie!AU, smut, fluff, crack

▽ Summary:  It’s Friday night and everyone you know in a 12 miles radius seems to be out and about dancing or drinking their lives away. Bored out of your mind you decide to call out the Genie that happened to fell in your hands a month prior to this very night. You just want some company, somebody to talk to and entertain you but things take a spicy turn when you accidentally make your very first wish and it’s a rather impious one.

▽ Word Count: 13.690 words

▽ WARNINGS:  Graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, unprotected sex, slight sub/dom dynamics, very light breathplay, rough sex, oral sex, thigh riding, tit fucking, swear words.

▽ AN: I’m going to take a moment to thank all the writers that participated in this collab, you guys are amazing and I love every single one of you! ♥ You were so supportive of each other, understanding when we ran into a few problems and honestly, I couldn’t have asked for a better bunch to share my very first collab experience with. Thank you, for everything ♥ @hobiwonder - @couture-kookie - @btsflufflysmut - @jimintykookies - @btssmutflufflove - @whichwaytowonderlandep

 "Uuuugh, I'm bored out of my goddamn mind!" You huff in annoyance, sprawling on your bed with a prominent pout on your face as the deafening silence of your room welcomes your words.

You roll your eyes to the ceiling, your feet dangling out the edge of your mattress in a perfect imitation of a kid throwing a tantrum.

It is Friday night and normally you'd be out and about having fun, quite possibly drinking your brains out along with your friends, only to regret all your life's decisions in the morning.

But you are regretting this one decision tonight after all so, either way, lots of regrets seems to be headed your way tomorrow morning. Usually, they would come in the form of an incessant headache and the shame for your actions the previous night but, tomorrow seems more like it would be in the form of your friends' tales about the night and all the good—and bad—things you have missed.

Your phone chimes then, right on cue, and you ungracefully roll on your stomach to stretch your left arm forward and fish the device from under the little colorful pillows and covers on your still unmade bed.

In bold black letters shines Doyeon's name, your friend since junior year in high school with whom you have the misfortune—or fortune, depends on who you ask it to—of sharing your college experience with.

The text she has sent you is akin to a cryptic secret message from the stone age and you do not have the patience nor the will to try and understand what it means aside from the fact that she is, clearly, already too intoxicated to even know how to type down actual words.

Your suspicions are confirmed in the matter of a few seconds when your phone rings again, this time with a notification from SnapChat. Dreading what awaits you, you still tap it open and are instantly met with the loud ass music and the glorious unfocused shot of people dancing around your pretty friend.

You can hear Doyeon screaming her lungs out along with the music and, rolling your eyes, you lock your phone again.

Your lips purse into another pout as you scan your surroundings in the desperate search of something at least a little entertaining to do.

You have spent the last hour scrolling through your entire timeline on Instagram, Facebook, and Snapchat, and you have reached that bottom point where nothing new is up anymore for you to consume.

You let out a strangled moan of irritation towards yourself and turn flat on your back again, staring at the ceiling in dismay.

With the semester coming to an end and your grades not being as stellar as your parents' would like them to be, you have found yourself on the verge of constant panic every waking hour of the past few weeks and it is that dread that has pushed you to make a responsible decision tonight, for once.

Staying in to study for your impendent exam seemed only rational; finishing up the assignment due on Monday instead of rushing it in panic tomorrow night for the hundredth time seemed smart and, ultimately, getting a little ahead with your mandatory literature reads—like the perfect student your parents would love for you to be—seemed absolutely genius and something you would thank yourself for in the long run. Clearly, a farfetched assumption that has been discarded a long time ago in favor of resentment towards your own line of thoughts.

When you had planned out your evening, it hadn't occurred to you that in the silence of the dorm and with the absence of Doyeon's intrusions in your room, you could be productive and finish up all of these tasks in the few hours between the late afternoon and the early evening.

So now, at barely 10 PM in the evening, you are left with no company and absolutely nothing else to do beside pathetically stare at your white naked walls.

Your phone rings again and you roll your eyes to the ceiling, already sure of the identity of the person behind the receiver.

Without a fault, it is your best friend trying to contact you again in her riled-up state and you do consider ignoring the call but then again, it's not like you have anything better to do anyway.

You barely have the time to accept the call and move the phone to your ear before Doyeon's scream in the form of your name reverberates in your skull.

"Ya'llneverbelievewhadhappend!"

Doyeon's slurs her words out in a screech that hurts both your brain and your acoustic walls, ultimately forcing you to put her on speaker and drop the phone on the bed to avoid permanent damage to your neurotic cells.

Not so surprisingly, though, you still understand the words that are thrown your way and that is because you've had this conversation quite many times before, especially in person with your brain lost in an intoxicated haze and the lack of comprehension skills.

"What happened?" You ask back, honestly just to humor her and see what she'll come up with.

Doyeon tries, she really does, but she can't really describe the picture in her head clearly and even though you give her your undivided attention, the only things you can make-out out of her rant are the words 'kiss', 'Hoseok', 'gottagoBYE'.

Before you even get the chance to utter a single word in response, you're met with the sound of the line getting caught off and the consequential silence that comes right after.

"Really..." you whisper to yourself in annoyance, glaring at your phone as if Doyeon could even see you through the locked screen.

Curiosity has your mind reeling on the infinite scenarios that could link those few words together and your eternal romantic side hooks on the possibility of Hoseok finally confessing his feelings for your best friend.

It is not a secret that both of them have been pining over each other ever since the end of last semester. Well, not a secret for anybody except them. Those two fools have been going around for literal months believing their crush was very one-sided.

"Ugh, why tonight of all nights?!" You ask at the blank wall in front of you, your hands fisting the covers in utter frustration.

You turn on your back, ungracefully landing on the bed, your face flat on the mattress.

"I wish I could turn back time," you whisper to yourself, tilting your head to the side to fix your gaze on the right wall.

Your eyes comically enlarge as the realization comes to you, the solution to your loneliness and boredom shining like a beacon in the night.

Your gaze fixes on your most precious possession lying between your textbooks in your own rendition of a library: a genie lamp.

Looking quite tacky and straight-out of a cartoon for children, the lamp that has changed your whole perception of what is real and what isn't, shines under the lights.

You jump on your feet with the excitement of a kid who has just arrived at Disneyland and with a big smile plastered on your face, you reach for the golden object.

It still feels weird to hold the ancient lamp in your hands, feel it under your digits and trace the outline of the golden decorations embossed atop the teal surface.

The lamp feels absolutely weightless in your hands and even though you're sort of accustomed to magic by now, it still seems impossible for something so light to be able to contain so many things all at once, let alone a living person.

It has been a few months since you have found the object, placidly waiting to be picked up on a deserted beach in your hometown.

It was the crack of dawn and you had been walking the long way home, enjoying the summer breeze and the nice smell of saltiness—the smell of home and good memories and peace and safety, something you miss with your entire heart when you're back in the city, living the college life.

You had picked it up because it looked like a toy, something a child would have lost and also because growing up, Aladdin had been your favorite Disney movie and oh well, even as an adult you still held a soft spot for it. It was, after all, the cartoon that sparked up your fantasy and imagination. Little did you know though that, when growing up, you'd find out that Aladdin's fairytale wasn't so farfetched as you initially believed.

You will never forget the moment you blew air out your mouth to clean up the lamp, in an attempt to make it shine bright again, and watched it spark up to life. You will also never forget the scream of utter terror that erupted from your mouth once a thick teal fog erupted from it and engulfed you whole.

In the span of a few seconds, you considered the idea of being way more drunk than you initially thought; having gone completely insane; having fallen down somewhere, banged your head and ended up in a weird-dream inducing coma.

The quick escalation of panicked thoughts had made your head spin and your heart rate spike up in your chest.

As the fog seemed to clear all around you, you had found yourself breathing in almost normally again, the thought of having experienced a seizure wildly present in the recess of your mind as you took in the scenery anew.

You expected the beach to be in the same state you had left it before you picked up that goddamned thing but, instead, you were met with two doe eyes, staring right at you.

How you didn't faint right then and there it is still a question you have no answer to but you did scream, oh God if you screamed and ran on the beach like a maniac, scared for your own life.

"Why do you scream so much?"

It had the voice of a boy, damn, he looked like a boy but he couldn't be one, because he came from that thing and if you weren't hallucinating, dreaming or, worse, stuck in a fantasy world of your own creation as your body lied peacefully in a hospital bed, that meant he wasn't human.

"Wha-w-what are you?!" The screech that came out of your mouth made him flinch and scrunch up his nose in distaste as he took a step forward, trying to reduce the distance you had put between the two of you.

"Well, if you had given me the time to speak, you would've known by now that I'm a genie and I'm here to serve you." The 'boy' bowed before you, his head hanging low and his back at a perfect ninety degrees angle to show you the respect you were supposedly due.

Terror seemed to dissipate in your chest, suppressed by a fit of laughter that you had no idea whether it actually came from hilarity or absolute insanity. Still, you laughed until your stomach ached, until your eyes got teary and your cheeks hurt.

"What's so funny?" He asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion, his lips slightly protruding forward in an adorable pout.

"You-you said you're a genie!" You could barely get the words out before you were thrown into another fit of laughter, unable to control yourself over the absurdity of the whole situation.

"Is my species something to laugh about?" His thick eyebrows narrowed as he studied you and your scrunched-up form, still giggling uncontrollably before him.

The smile slowly disappeared from your lips as you took him in completely for the first time. His eyes had turned cold, his mouth was held in a tight line, his arms crossed over his chest in defense, his stance rigid and mildly uncomfortable.

"Wait, you're being serious?!" Your mouth opened in astonishment as you stared down at him, "You aren't shitting me, right now?"

"Why would I joke about this?" He looked at you, clearly confused by both your initial reaction and your current string of questions.

"Is this some kind of candid camera?" You looked around trying to pick up on the hidden crew or a camera perfectly concealed somewhere up the road.

"What's a candid camera?"

"What's a can-really?!" You looked at him with your mouth open, your eyebrows knitted together in astonishment. Honestly, who doesn’t know what a candid camera is?

"Oh my God, I'm dealing with a crazy person!" You exclaimed, raising your arms to the sky in an over-dramatic motion of incredulity.

"You screamed at me, laughed at me and tried to run away from me and I'm the crazy person here?!" He pointed at himself, his eyes shining with both disbelief and exasperation over your refusal to believe him.

"You are the one that came out from the freaking lamp! Wait-" You stopped on your tracks, suddenly reminded of why you had been scared out of your skin in the first place.

In response, the self-proclaimed genie pointedly looked at you, his eyebrows rising up to his forehead, his hands resting on his hips as he waited for you to finally connect the dots.

It didn't make sense. Genies aren't real, that's what you kept saying to yourself because, honestly, who would have believed him right away? Who in their right mind would have?

"Prove it." You crossed your arms on your chest and looked up at him, fierceness in your gaze and defiance in your stance.

"Because clearly coming out from a lamp is not enough," he muttered to himself, shaking his head a little before relaxing his posture to lift himself up from the ground.

Your chin dropped alongside with your heart, your mind reeling in the attempt to grasp what you were staring at. He was flying. Like, actually flying and that meant either this was very real or there was something really wrong with you.

You felt the blood drain from your face as he gracefully landed before you, his lips twisted into a satisfied smirk whilst panic raged back on inside of you.

You gulped down heavily, unable to tear your gaze away from him in fear the moment you'd look away, he'd kill you. Which is dumb, of course, in retrospective it is but there was alcohol in your system and fear and panic which aren't the nicest combination, to be fair to yourself.

You blow hot air on the lamp and rub on the fogged up surface with your sleeve, cooing him out of the lamp with the same sounds you would use for a cat—something he utterly despises but that you still do just to spite him.

Nine months have passed since you picked up his lamp by accident and you have been through your ups and downs together, so much so you have started thinking about him as a friend. Of course, he doesn't know this and he cannot know this because you are aware it is dangerous territory.

Genies aren't meant to spend a lifetime with a human, they are meant to grant wishes and move on and once they do, they'll never meet their previous owners ever again.

You know this, he has explained it to you on that very first day and even though you understand the rules very well, there is this part of you that refuses the idea of ever letting him go. It's silly, but the feeling is there and it seems as unshakable as a whole huge-ass-mountain.

The familiar teal fog engulfs you, warming up your body as it enlarges in the air, moving around until it thickens into a living human-like creature.

"How many times do I have to tell you I'm a genie, not a freaking cat?"

"Good evening to you too, Jeongguk."

He rolls his eyes at you, his hands resting on his hips as he taps his foot to the floor, annoyance written all over his face.

"Fine, fine, I won't do it anymore." You peel off your gaze from his little pout, turning your back on him so you can sprawl yourself on the bed again.

"You said that last time, as well." He takes a step forward, following you to the center of the room to look down at you, his eyes shining with judgment and a little bit of mistrust.

You giggle as you sit up crossing your legs whilst you reach out a hand for him, sticking up your pinkie for him to catch.

"Pinky promise?" You offer, batting your lashes in feigned innocence.

"I'm not a kid," he grumbles under his breath but still joins your fingers together, side-eyeing you as you burst into giggles at his antics.

That's the thing with Jeongguk: he'd mumble, he'd throw a tantrum like a kid and look at you with ice-cold eyes but he'll always humor you. You don't know if it's because it's in his nature or that is just the way it is but you love it, either way.

"So, what am I doing here?" He asks, tilting his head to the side, his eyes turning into slits as he studies you, "No, scratch that. What are you doing here?"

You sigh loudly, suddenly reminded of your pathetic Friday night at the dorm.

"I'm here because I had to study, you are here because I want entertainment."

"Is that your first wish?"

It has been nine months since you have met him and not a single day has passed without him asking you about your first wish. At first, you just wanted to consider your options before wasting three wishes on trivial things.

Now, you just don't want to watch him disappear into thin air and forget all about you.

"No, dummy, I'm just bored out of my mind."

Your reply sounds lighthearted but you can't really stop the sadness creeping up in your heart at the thought of ever letting him go. You wish you could speak about this with him or with anybody else but you can't. How exactly would you explain genies to other people without making them think you need some serious help? Also, the most egoistic part of you doesn't even want anyone else to know about the existence of Jeongguk and the rest of his lot.

"Well, what do you want me to do about it?"

"Ah! You won't trick me into making a wish, I'm not that clueless!"

He shakes his head lightly, trapping his bottom lip under his teeth before sighing loudly.

"That's what I don't understand," he says, his gaze so intense it almost makes you squirm on your seat. These days it almost feels like he can read past your defense and it scares you to no end because you know what he will say. He would be right, too, in saying it but you don't want a wake-up call, not just yet.

"Why don't you?" He asks, narrowing his eyebrows as you promptly look away, avoiding his gaze with all your might.

"I just want to make sure I don't waste them up," your voice says. I enjoy your company far too much to let you go, your heart secretly whispers.

Silence welcomes your words and you let your body fall down on the mattress again, your eyes fixing up on the ceiling anew while your heart feels even heavier than it did before.

Your mind drifts off to your call with Doyeon, how happy she sounded in her messy-ass state. The likelihood of her and Hoseok being together right now is pretty high and yes, you are happy for her but also yes, you do envy her. It has been months since you've last been with a guy and it has been even longer since you even felt something for one.

With a pout on your lips you turn towards your genie, still standing at the edge of the bed with his eyes fixed on you.

This is another thing Jeongguk does: he looks at you all the time. He never lets you out of his sight and at first, you found it odd, unnerving and almost creepy but now, after so many months together, you've grown to like it because it makes you feel special, almost cherished. Of course, it is all based on a lie because it is probably in his nature to keep his eyes on his master but, even so, the heart feels and believes what it wants to.

"You know what would make me feel really better?"

You ask after a few seconds, a wicked smile spreading on your lips as you study your next words. Usually, you wouldn't talk about this stuff with him, maybe not even with Doyeon to be completely honest, but the idea of making him all flustered is too tempting to resist it.

"What?" He asks, his eyes shining with the prospect of you finally using up your very first wish. You swear to God, if he had a tail he'd be wagging it like a dog now, looking so expectantly at you.

You almost bite back the words before they can leave your mouth but then, you don't, and before you realize it, they are hanging in the hair.

"A good dickdown."

He looks at you with his eyes big as saucers, his cheeks the color of rose petals and his mouth slightly parted in a silence reply to your words.

You giggle at his response—or lack thereof—basking in the way he looks so utterly bewildered with your sudden confession.

"Well, I'm-uhm-pretty sure you won't have any problems finding someone willing to...?"

Jeongguk scratches the back of his head, his eyes drifting a little away from your face as he tries to get his composure back after you have thrown him so off with your words.

You take this chance to look at him, truly look at him without the fear of being caught staring, for once.

His black hair shines particularly bright tonight, soft and fluffy locks slightly covering his sharp eyebrows in a way that makes him look young and dainty.

His eyes are your favorite thing to look at. They are black as coal but still shimmer as if stars are trapped behind them, they are big and kind and puppy-like and they make your heart hurt whenever they fix on you.

His nose is round and a little pointed at the end, an adorable freckle is almost hidden under his right nostril and you may or may not have dreamed of kissing it before.

He has a little scar on his left cheek, almost looking like a cut and you have tried asking him about it but an answer has never come your way, no matter how much you insisted on your pursuit. You imagined a lot how it would feel under your digits. The rest of his skin looks so soft to the touch you truly wonder if it would really seem like stroking peaches if you'd reach your hand and simply touch it.

His mouth is a nice shade of coral, small but pouty and honestly so kissable it hurts to look at it for more than a few seconds. But then, if you move your gaze you find another freckle under his bottom lip and that is dangerous territory because you'd love to kiss that one too.

Everything about Jeongguk's face is soft and delicate until he turns a little to the side, or inches his head backward and you can clearly see the sharpness of his jawline; the manly cut that makes your mouth water and your heart beat faster. Yes, maybe you have developed a crush for your genie and it would definitely not be a wise decision but then again, how do you stop your heart from desiring something?

Your eyes travel a little southern, landing on his open white vest with teal and golden details on his shoulders.

Where his face is soft and gentle, his body is strong and powerful and he makes absolutely no effort to conceal it.

His arms are all muscles and veins that lead to pretty hands—have you ever even looked at hands before you met him?—his shoulders are big and look like the safest place to be held in, his chest is broad and defined and surely the most comfortable pillow to rest your head on.

Your eyes drift towards his firm abdomen, your gaze lingering there as you unconsciously lick your lips, incapable of keeping your thoughts at bay as you are presented, once again, with a body chiseled by the gods.

Whereas his pecs aren't the most defined and sculpted once you've ever seen, he makes up greatly for it when it comes down to his abs.

Before you met Jeongguk, you had never seen abdominal muscles that reached the upper torso in such a precise and perfect definition in real life.

The lines that delineate his muscles almost seem to have been airbrushed in Photoshop and,  if he weren't standing before you right now and you were seeing him for the first time in a photo, you would easily bet a hundred bucks on them being absolutely fake and post-produced.

You love the little curve of his stomach, the way it looks a little bit softer compared to the rock-hard muscles above it and, to be honest, that's the part you prefer the most: his cute belly button, the way those muscles tense inward whenever he laughs too hard at one of your jokes and, further down, the truly mouth-watering little happy trail of fine hair that leads to the golden waistband of his white pants.

You can almost see the curve of his hipbones peeking through the fair fabric and you have to gulp down heavily in order to stop your thoughts from going there.

You abruptly peel off your gaze from him and redirect it towards his face, a mistake you wish you hadn't done because you find him staring right at you, a little questioning look drawn on his face.

You feel the blood quickly rush to your face, turning your skin so uncomfortably hot you almost fan yourself with your hands.

"W-well, it's not as easy as you think," you finally reply, your gaze fixed on anywhere but him, as you try to will your heart rate to slow down a little and your lungs to breathe in some more air.

"Isn't it?" Jeongguk tilts his head to the side, undoubtedly trying to catch your gaze with his own but failing when you refuse to even glance in his general direction.

"Well no because thanks to you I, unfortunately, doubled my freaking standards on males!"

There must be some kind of magical force acting here because not in a million years you would have said that out loud otherwise. The thought that had been ringing in your head ever since he had pronounced his words magically appeared on your tongue and, before you could stop yourself, there it was, hanging in the air like the freaking sword of Damocles.

Jeongguk sports a little grin on his face, clearly not so oblivious to the way he looks and how it affects people around him and, truth be told, you would give anything just to wipe it off from his mouth.

"Have I, now?" He inquires, his voice sickeningly sweet and thick with something that is not curiosity, like his words may suggest, but, rather taunting.

“Oh, please, don’t act like you don’t know how you look like,” you roll your eyes in response to his mocking behavior, gesturing at his whole lean figure for good measure, “I mean, who even has an eight-pack?!”

Jeongguk is fully giggling at your outburst, his cheeks painted in a nice pinkish tone that suggests he appreciates the implied compliment he was given far more than he’s bend to admit.

He’s shaking his head as if he can’t believe what is coming out of your mouth right now, and to be fair, neither do you, especially considering the fact that you are one hundred percent sober.

Your lips protrude forward in a little pout, your eyes glancing at the door to your bedroom without truly seeing it. You are lost in your thoughts again, the desires that have been repressed for long months burning you from the inside out, fighting to be expressed out loud, at last.

"I just wish I could have sex with someone as good looking as you, that’s all... Is that too much to ask?"

You sprawl your body on the bed, your eyes fixing on the ceiling yet again but, this time, it is to avoid the inevitable eye contact with your genie. It may also be to hide the way you are biting down your battered bottom lip in nervousness, and the way little droplets of sweat have gathered around your hairline, the result of blood rushing to your face uncomfortably so.

There is dead silence in the room for a couple of seconds before you hear the sound of clothes rustling, drawing your gaze to the side to fix on him again.

It is with utter horror that you watch him bow before you, a little smirk on his awfully kissable mouth.

"Your every wish my command."

Your heart plummets in your chest, your legs flying to the ground as you stand up in the span of a millisecond, ready to smash him down to a bloody pulp.

“Wait what?! That wasn’t a wish, you ass!”

Jeongguk rises back tall before you, his eyes glinting with mischief and absolutely no sympathy over the fact that you may just have thrown to literal shit one of your three wishes.

"I’m sorry but you can’t take back your wishes.”

"What do you mean I can't take back my wishes?! I didn't even make a fucking wish!"

You are boiling with anger at the way he so clearly took advantage of your little slip of the tongue, completely disregarding the fact that you weren't actually expressing a wish for him to fulfill in the first place.

"I don't make the rules, _______. You made a wish and now I'm going to grant it to you."

He wouldn't be able to hide the amusement glinting in his eyes even if he tried to and a part of you really wants to punch that smirk away from his face, the evident taunt in his features driving you absolutely mad.

Your mind races with thoughts and plans to get you out of this but after a few minutes it is clear that there is no way out, no matter how hard you try to work around it.

"Well...” You say, your voice quivering a little as you weigh down your options in an attempt to get the best out of what you were given, “Can I make it more specific, then? Or does that require another wish to be expressed?”

Your voice is filled with all the insecurity lodged within you, your poor bottom lip getting trapped under the vise of your teeth anew as you stare up to him, butterflies dancing in your stomach and heart spiking up its rate in your chest.

"I will allow it," Jeongguk says, tilting his head a little to the side like puppies do when they don’t understand well what has been said to them. It would be adorable if it weren’t for his eyes shining with cunning curiosity.

“What about someone that resembles you?” Your voices comes out much smaller than you initially anticipated but there is no doubt he has heard you loud and clear.

His eyes are fixed on you, his lips tightly closed in thought as silence hangs between the two of you.

The more he stands perfectly still, without uttering a single word, the more your proximity seems to become uncomfortable, unbearable even.

With all the cards laid out so nicely before him, there is no doubt Jeongguk has picked up on the fact that you have obviously developed a crush on him.

But even if he did, he decides to not address this but, rather, scratching his head a little he utter his next words:

“I’m sorry, but I can’t create someone from thin air. Genies cannot create humans nor kill them or revive them after death.”

You inhale loudly, your eyes drifting to the wall behind him as holding his gaze seems to become an impossible task from here on forward.

It almost feels like the walls around you are crumbling down, allowing him to see the most private and not-so-pretty parts of your soul. Something you never wanted him to see.

“So... if you can’t create someone are you going to summon a real person?”

You are playing with your hands as you say so, trying to wrap up your mind around genie magic and its infinite set of rules that you can’t even begin to comprehend.

“Not exactly,” Jeongguk seems hesitant as he speaks those words, his feet fidgeting as he clicks his tongue, a habit you know means he’s in deep thought—in this case probably trying to figure out the best way to explain to you how his magic works.

“Well... there must be some human being somewhere in this vast world that even remotely resembles...” your words get caught in your throat as you dare to lift your eyes up to meet his. It feels so humiliating to be saying this, finally admitting out loud the grandness of your feelings for him but at the same time, it is not lack of fine male specimen that has stopped you from fucking around in the past few months. It’s the fact that your platonic crush for your genie has made it impossible for every single human to stand a chance against him.

“I am no human being so, no, there is nobody else like me.”

His voice is deep as he stares down at you, all hilarity gone from his gaze as he takes you down, evidently studying you to the point it makes you squirm on the spot. You have never desired to disappear inside the ground as much as you do now. Would that be an acceptable wish to express?

“I see,” your voice is small, your eyes unable to peel off of him now even though you desperately want to, his gaze locking you in place, entrancing with the stars shining like beacons behind them.

“But I guess there is a way for you to have sex with someone like me.” He says after a few seconds, wetting his lips quickly as he scratches his head in uncertainty.

“What do you mean?”

“Well... you could have sex with me.” He bites his bottom lip, his eyes shining with a hint of doubt you have never seen reflected inside of them and it makes your heart stutter in your chest and traps your voice inside your throat whilst you try to process what he has just said.

“Come again?” You whisper after a few seconds, the words rolling off of your tongue feeling like rocks in your mouth as you try to push them out, all heavy and rough around the edges.

Jeongguk gulps down heavily in front of you, his eyes glued on yours as he takes a step forward, forcing you to lift your head up a little to stare back at him.

“Tell me you have never thought about it.” He says, licking his lips as he steadies himself, boldness firing up his words as he slowly musters up the courage to freely speak his mind.

“Tell me you have never dreamed about me and all the things I would do to you.”

His voice seems to drop an entire octave as he presses onward, his words thick with lustiness as if he were trying to seduce you.

Your silence and the way your mouth parts to breathe in loudly seem only to fuel him forward, prompting him to take another step forward.

You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the sweet hint of cinnamon he’s embodied with engulfing you whole and your brain starting to get fuzzy with wanton desire.

“Tell me you have never touched yourself thinking about me, about my tongue teasing your sex, about my fingers moving in and out of you.” His voice is rough and husky and it makes your legs tremble with the tantalizing fantasies his words depict in your head.

When he takes the final step forward, all you can think about is his mouth on top of yours, his hands roaming all over you and as he takes your chin with one hand, caressing your skin as he tips your face forward, your heart drops in your chest.

“Tell me you haven’t imagined how my cock would feel like inside of you and I’ll take back my offer.”

Your mouth suddenly feels as dry as a desert, your mind reeling with the infinite possibilities nicely laid out before you—if nine months worth of wet dreams is anything to go by.

You should jump at the offer, don’t even stop for a whole second to consider it and just take it but there is that little drop of doubt squeezing your heart, making it impossible for you to blindly follow your desires.

“Do you really mean it?” You ask in a whisper, wetting your lips as you search his eyes for any hint of doubt hidden inside them, “I don’t want this unless you truly want it too.”

Jeongguk tips his head a little to the side, inhaling deeply before sighing out loud, his eyes closing for a brief second.

“I thought I had made it clear enough with my words,” he says after a moment, his hands traveling down your body to rest on your hips, slightly guiding them forward until they meet his.

You gasp out loud as you are met with his semi-erection, pressing slightly over your core so to not leave any doubts he desires you just as much as you want him.

“I don’t have to have sex with you,” he whispers, his face moving forward until your noses meet, your lips so close they almost brush against each other, “I want to.”

His warm breath caresses your face as he confesses his own desires out loud, leaving you completely speechless.

In the span of a few seconds, your whole world has been turned upside down by Jeongguk again but you do not stop wondering, you do not waste time asking yourself questions you can always get back to later on. No, as soon as the words are out, your lips are on top of his, claiming his mouth like you desperately desired to do so many times.

He gasps loudly as your hands fly to his hair to pull him down towards you, your fingers getting lost in his locks as you tug on them, forcing him to bend a little forward and welcome the intrusion of your tongue.

Jeongguk tastes like a summer drink: refreshing and sweet and so much more than you ever imagined or wished for.

His lips are as soft as cotton and they feel like heaven against your own, pressing and pulling on the supple flesh until you’re sighing for him, relishing in how amazing it feels to finally have him like this.

His hands slide down from your hips to reach behind your back and tightly clasp around the curve of your bottom cheeks.

“Jeongguk,” you whisper atop his mouth, opening your eyes to fix your gaze in his shining ones.

His lips are all red, slick with your saliva and so incredibly inviting you fear you may never want to stop kissing him for as long as you are breathing.

He touches your nose with the tip of his own, his hands engulfing your butt cheeks a little roughly, making you whimper in return.

His palms come to rest under your ass, pushing you upwards until your legs are encircling his waist and your arms are clasped behind his neck.

In this position he is the one that has to look up to you, his head bent a little to the side so he can still gaze inside your eyes.

If you thought the way Jeongguk looked at you before was heartwarming, now you are met with the raging fire summoned by his love-struck-like gaze.

He inches his chin forward, flicking your nose a little with his own, a shy smile on his lips as he silently asks the permission to claim your lips anew.

You nod your head yes, holding your breath as your eyes close for him, waiting for his mouth.

Jeongguk’s kiss is slow and delicate at first, it’s drawn out in a way that makes you want more, so much more, and at the same time, it’s precious and laced with not only the passion of the moment but also the tenderness of a first time together.

It makes your insides twitch and your heart hurt and it fogs up all of your thoughts to the point you feel yourself drowning in the sensation of his lips, pressed tightly on your own.

It’s maddening and exciting and a little bit scary because how will you go about your life now that you actually know what it feels like to be kissed by him, held by him so tight your bodies may even merge together.

Your heart is beating like a maniac in your chest and you pull him even closer, so tight your chests have no choice but heave against each other with every single breath you take. You don’t want to let him go, ever.

And these thoughts turn you desperate, they force you to make the kiss deeper, to lick his lips and bite them down, to gulp down every sigh and whimper that comes out of him and make them your own.

“I want you so much,” you whisper and in those words, there is much more than the initial layer. You want to feel him inside of you, on top of you, all around you but most importantly you want him for yourself and not just for one single night.

But you do not dare say it out loud, you do not dare taint this moment with the depth of your emotions in fear of ruining it, of shying him away. It may hurt in the long run but at least, you will have one memory you share together to go by.

Right now, he wants you just as much as you want him and maybe it’s not the same kind of desire but you’d still take everything he has to offer.

“Then take me,” he purrs out in your ear, kissing lightly the soft skin of your neck as he slowly puts you down on your own two feet again.

You wet your lips quickly, your breath coming out in hot puffs of air as your hands immediately fly to his vest, roughly pushing it past his shoulders and then down his arms. You are completely blinded by the passion burning inside of you, your hands eager to explore and touch every expanse of his golden skin. No, not just that. You want to taste him.

Your lips attack his neck, all rough and passionate on the tender skin, blooming purple roses against it until he’s softly moaning out your name, his hands pulling you closer so that you won’t stop torturing his flesh in the best ways possible.

Jeongguk emits the most beautiful sounds your ears have ever heard. He whines and sighs and grunts for you, he closes his eyes as he parts his lips to whimper out your name with every new thing you find that excites him and it drives you absolutely insane. You can’t stop wondering how he would sound like as you fuck him hard, rock on his cock to milk his orgasm, make him beg not to stop. God, you desperately want to break him and draw all these nice sounds out of him.

Your lips are scorching hot against his naked skin and he shivers as you start kissing him along the line of his clavicles, slowly moving south to his pecks and even further, to the object of your current desire: his muscular abs.

Your tongue darts out of your mouth to taste the tight and firm skin and he whimpers again at the sensation, throwing his head a little backward as his fingers grasp your hair.

It feels like breaking him little by little and you can only imagine how good he will sound once your undivided attention is finally on his cock.

A wicked smile spreads on your lips as you keep kissing and licking the expanse of his abs, particularly focusing on the supple flesh around his belly button.

Your once rough kisses turn gentler as you keep inching downwards, exploring the trail of hair that leads to the treasure still concealed by his white pants. Goosebumps gather on his skin as your lips turn even softer, barely pressing over the flesh whilst your nose nuzzles forward, teasing him a little with the briefest of contacts.

You lift your gaze upwards, smiling when you find his eyes trained on you, focused on your every movement. His pupils are blown out and his hair disheveled with your previous kissing session making him look already well-fucked while you haven’t even started yet.

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you move your hands behind his back, reaching for the firm curve of his ass only to grasp the golden waistband of his pants.

You slide them down slowly, your eyes taunting him as you keep studying his face, the way he bites his lips in anticipation or gulps down heavily at the prospect ahead of him.

As the soft fabric of his pants moves past the curve of his ass, consequently sliding down his legs, you watch him shudder and bite his bottom lip in foretaste and it is that sight that prompts you to look down again, seeking a glimpse at the treasure hidden between his legs.

Your breath trembles as you exhale loudly at the vision laid before your very eyes. Jeongguk's cock stands almost fully erected before you in all its glory—his underwear nowhere to be seen—ready to receive the attention it so desperately seeks.

As you stand up before him again, mouth watering with the prospect of finally having him all for your self, you offer a hand for him to grab. His fingers intertwine with your own effortlessly and it is a simple touch really, nothing to compare with the activities you have been sharing thus far but still, it makes your heart leap in your chest and a smile spread on your lips.

Without uttering a single word you slowly guide him to your bed to make him sit on the edge of your soft mattress.

His legs automatically spread nicely for you as he tilts his head upwards, looking up at you expectantly.

With a soft smile you inch forward, quickly capturing his lips with your own yet again while your left hand slides down from his neck to his pecks, your fingers slightly grazing his skin as you move southward, taunting him with your slow movements and relishing in the way his muscles start to tense more the closer you get to his sex.

He whimpers on your mouth as soon as your fingers graze the surface of his length with the softest of touches and you smirk atop his lips, rejoicing in the way he so easily reacts to your every movement.

“Someone’s a little eager,” you whisper, searching for his eyes with a little taunting smile on your lips.

“Don’t tease, please.” His voice is thick, his eyes big and staring at you in a puppy-like fashion that makes your heart hurt. How can someone be this hot and cute at the same damn time? In an instant, you want to devour him whole, make him beg you to let him cum inside of you and then let him ruin you completely in return.

You take a step forward to sit on top of his muscular right thigh, your lips so close to his mouth that your breaths start to mingle whilst you slowly rock your hips forward on top of him.

Your fingers wrap around the base of his cock, slowly gliding upwards in delicate and tentative strokes that will bring him a little pleasure without the risk of you chafing him in the process.

“I want to touch you,” he whimpers out, his eyes pleading as he looks up at you.

You watch him gulp down heavily as your hips roll a little faster over his thigh, you watch his pupils dilate as your mouth opens in a sigh of pleasure given by the nice friction his toned muscles provide on your fully clothed core.

You nod your head yes in response, your breath quickened by the excitement coiling nicely in your belly and he jumps at the chance of finally putting his hands all over you.

It is such a juxtaposition for him to act this way—all needy and submitted to your desires—when only a few instants ago he was being all confident and cocky but it is also utterly endearing and new for you, at the same time.

His fingers are timid as they approach your skin, slowly infiltrating under your shirt to finally caress your flesh and burn it with his digits, imprint his passage on every inch of your body.

His touch is soft at first as he scans your entire upper body with his hands but as soon as he finds the supple curve of your uncovered tits, he turns rougher, needier.

Your hand is still taunting his cock, your thumb teasing his head ever so slightly to draw out unsteady breaths and little whimpers out of him.

You catch up the glint in his eyes as he keeps tugging on your shirt, hoping to make it ride a little higher and expose your entire chest to him, and with a silent grin, you help him get the garment off of you and give him the treat he so desperately desired to receive.

His mouth is on your chest in the span of a few seconds, his tongue playing with your nipples with the same rhythm of your hand around is now fully erected cock.

Your back arches a little for him, your mouth opening in a silent moan as the wetness of your underwear begins to uncomfortably stick to your slick sex.

You gulp down heavily as you still your hips on top of him, your tongue daring out of your mouth to lick your dry lips and slow down the rampant beating of your heart.

He looks up at you ardently as you rise on your feet again, releasing your hold on his cock just long enough for you to get rid of your sweat pants and stand before him in nothing but your very flimsy pair of white panties.

He bites down his bottom lip as he stares up at you, his arms inching forward to grasp your hips and guide you back to him so he can keep studying and mapping every crevice of your body.

He kisses your stomach, nuzzles his nose between your tits to inhale loudly the sweet scent of your skin and you shiver under him, sighing in pleasure at the simplest of touches.

“Can I ride your dick?” You ask in a breath, your eyes searching for his to gauge his response to your lewd question.

“Fuck,” he whimpers out, his eyes almost rolling back inside his head just at the thought of having you above him, fucking him to completion, “Please do.”

You push him down the mattress with your hands to quickly climb on top of him, your legs straddling his hips as you inch a little forward to capture his lips.

His hands are firm around the curve of your ass, guiding your hips up and down to create a little friction between his hard cock and your clothed sex.

The sensation of his girth between your slick lips is already enough to make you sigh for him and as you do he takes the chance to slip his tongue past your teeth and inside your mouth. The kiss is scorching hot, it leaves you breathless and desperate to finally feel him inside of you and as soon as one of his hands is between your legs, you turn a whimpering mess for him.

He pushes your panties to the side and if the lewd sound your underwear emits as he pushes it away from your sex is anything to go by, you must be soaking wet at this point.

He inhales sharply atop your lips, cutting the kiss short so that he can focus on the little bundle of nerves between your legs.

You have been dreaming about his hands for literal months and yet they feel like nothing you have experienced before.

His little circular motions are slow and deep and they make your stomach contract in waves of pleasure.

“Oh, Jeongguk,” you moan his name and he attaches his mouth to the base of your neck to suck on the tender flesh and tint it a dark shade of purple.

A sob escapes your mouth as he pushes a finger inside of you, stretching your walls with its dragged out circular motions in and out of your core.

Jeongguk may have looked like a needy sub up to this point but there is no doubt he really knows what he is doing.

He finds your pleasure spots with utter ease and he is not afraid to hit on them with sheer precision to draw all the beautiful sounds out of your mouth.

“I want to fuck you,” you whimper out after a while and he chuckles a little, quickly retrieving his exploring fingers from inside of you.

As he pushes his back on the mattress again his expectant eyes focus on you anew, a little smirk on his mouth.

You visibly shiver as he brings his coated finger to his lips and sucks on the slick digit.

You lick your lips a few times as you watch his tongue dart out of his mouth to keep licking his finger in a lewd depiction of what he would do if that were to be your sex instead of his own digit.

Fire seems to be burning inside of you as you hastily remove your underwear and align your core to his turgid cock, eager to finally feel him inside of you.

Your hand grips his shaft by the balls, keeping it perfectly still as you gradually sink onto him, welcoming him past your slick walls.

He inhales loudly, closing his eyes as you slowly keep pushing yourself down, meeting his cock to its fullest potential until he is completely lodged inside of you, stretching your walls in a blissful way that makes you sigh in pleasure.

You stay perfectly still for a few second, willing your core to relax and adjust to the intrusion of his girth while your left hand reaches behind your back to squeeze his balls and add pleasure to the feeling of your walls slightly contracting all around him.

He hisses at the new sensation, biting his bottom lip to gulp down the heavenly sounds you love to hear from him and you retaliate by squeezing him harder, almost painfully so, until he is forced to cry out loud.

“Don’t hold back,” you whisper into his ear as you lean forward to steal another kiss from him, “I want to hear you scream.”

Jeongguk whines at your words, his bottom lip protruding forward into a little pout as he stares right inside your eyes.

“Fuck me,” he whimpers out, his hips slightly rotating against your own in his desperate search for some friction, “Please.”

Your eyes almost roll back inside your head at the needy tone his words are laced with. All the power he has bestowed upon you is making you dizzy, mad with the desire of taunting him until he breaks and begs for more.

You lift your hips a little and then roughly sink onto him again, relishing in the sound of your ass cheeks smacking his thighs and balls in the process.

Tilting your head a little backward you start rolling your hips forward for him, your bottom lip trapped under your teeth and your hands roughly grasping the soft skin of your breasts.

“Fuck you’re so hot,” he whispers as he looks up at you and the way you keep taunting him with your hands roaming all over your own body, with the little sighs of ecstasy you emit every time he exhales loudly in pleasure.

Resting your palms onto his pecs to keep yourself balanced, you readjust your pace to a rather rough and bruising one that has you whimpering and sighing for his heavenly cock, for the way it seems to be getting even bigger as time progresses and pleasure arises inside both of you.

Soon enough your room is filled with the lewd sounds of skin smacking on skin, of deep moans and low grunts, of lips desperately searching and finding each other in the blindness of desire.

“Ugh, you take my cock so well.”

Jeongguk is breathing fast beneath you, his sighs turning into full out high-pitched moans that make your insides clench with arousal. Every single one of his words or needy sounds works as fuel for the fire burning between your legs and it makes you even more eager to make him burst inside of you and come all over him in return.

“Am I living up to your dreams?” He asks after a few seconds, his eyebrows furrowed as he searches the answer inside your eyes.

“Yes, you are, ugh, you feel so good Gukie.”

The little nickname seems to work wonders on him as he grunts in response, his hands almost turning bruising around your hips as he starts guiding them down, forcing you to pick up your pace a little more.

“Harder, fuck me harder.” He pleads, closing his eyes while his mouth opens to form a silent ‘O’, the only inkling of the deep pleasure you are giving him he seems capable of showing right now.

You lift yourself up a little higher to plant your feet on the mattress and sink into him harder just like he asked for, desperate to please him and be pleased at the same time.

Jeongguk’s breaths turn even louder—his diaphragm contracting madly beneath you— his sobs a little bit more desperate as his orgasm draws nearer and nearer by the second.

“Aww, faster baby, please.”

His nails start digging the soft flesh of your ass and you whimper at both the pain and the pleasure the roughness provides, his hips start rocking upwards to try and fasten up your pace by meeting you halfway and bring himself over the edge.

The battering speed inside your pussy is heart-stopping, the head of his cock reaching your G spot with utter precision is absolutely devastating and it has you whimpering for him in a matter of seconds.

Your walls madly contract around him, squeezing him even tighter and making it almost impossible for him to resist any longer.

“Are you going to soil my pretty cock, uh?” He asks in a whine, his eyes searching for yours as he realizes your orgasm is as close as his very own.

“Yeah, oh-shit, I’m-I’m gonna cum all over you, Gukie.”

He growls at your words and you roll your hips even faster in response, chasing your release so desperately it almost hurts.

“Are you going to fill my pussy up?” You ask in a breath, mirroring his own question as you feel the wave of pleasure rushing from your head down to your core.

As your walls start to spasmodically contract all around him you feel him getting stiff beneath you, his breath getting caught in his lungs with the depth of his pleasure finally exploding in and out of him.

“Aww, fuck, fuck, fuuuuck.” His deep moan is followed by the sensation of his cock pulsing inside of you in unison to the spasms of your core and the one of his release milking your insides with generous spurts of white nectar.

By the time you both come down from your highs you are sprawled all over his body, his soft cock lying between your stomachs as you rest your head above his heaving chest, your legs nicely mingled together.

“That was mind-blowing,” you whisper making him chuckle as he encircles your frame with his strong arms.

His gaze is warm now, softer, and it makes you wish to stay like this for the rest of your lifetimes.

“Jeonggukie?” You ask in a whisper, making him tilt his head to the side with a questioning look on his face.

“I want to make another wish,” you confess, blood rushing all to your head as you tilt it upwards to stare back at him.

“Tell me,” his right hand comes to rest on your cheek, slightly guiding your face forward to place a tender kiss atop your lips.

“I want to have sex with you again.”

“When?” He breaths out, not a single hint of hesitation in his voice, signaling you he wants it just as much as you do.

“Now.”

“Your every wish is my command,” he replies, a playful smirk tugging on his lips as you lift yourself up and slowly make your descent towards his soft cock.

There has been this desire stuck in your mind ever since you undressed him and as you come to a halt between his legs, Jeongguk is made aware of your lewd intentions rather quickly.

His sex is covered in both your juices and a few drops of his own cum. To you, it looks like an absolute feast.

You lick your lips expectantly, pointing your eyes on his face as you open up your mouth to let your tongue do the trick.

You lap at his warm skin to gather up all the spilled remnants of your orgasms and he visibly shudders at the sensation of your scratchy muscle working on his flesh.

Jeongguk closes his eyes as you come closer and closer to his cock, already foretasting the moment your lips will close around it and work it to hardness anew.

You take your long-ass-time though, opting for a rather teasing pace and kitten licks that make him tremble and whine in annoyance when you keep getting so close to his sex while remaining so impossibly away from it.

“You really are a tease,” he mumbles under his breath, his head tilted forward so he can stare at you as you giggle in response.

“And you really are impatient, Gukie.” He shivers at your words and you tilt your head to the side, a playful smile tugging on your lips as you study his features.

“Do you like that? Me calling you Gukie?”

He hums in response, biting his bottom lip as if in deep thought and maybe he is, trying to decide whether he should elaborate on the reason why or not.

Either way, he doesn’t really get a chance to add on it because your mouth is all around him in an instant and he has a hard time breathing all of a sudden.

He whimpers a little as you suck on his soft flesh, your mouth slurping him loudly as if you were sucking on a candy.

“Ah! Damn.”

His abs contract as you suck on him a little bit harder, coaxing his dick to a new erection.

Your tongue darts out of your mouth to swiftly lick his head as you pointedly look up at him to study all the little twists on his features, learning what he likes and what he doesn’t.

Your left hand reaches between his legs to squeeze his balls and he whines as you do so, his eyes rolling back inside his head.

You can feel his cock hardening as you lick a long stripe from the base of his length up to his head again.

“You taste so good, Gukie.”

You mumble on top of his reddened flesh before engulfing him completely in your mouth again. Your jaw is slack and your cheeks are hollowed as you suck on him as hard as you can, closing your eyes to hum as his flavor invades your taste buds.

His hands come to grasp your hair, locking you in place above his cock, begging you to not stop anytime soon.

You let him guide your head, adjust your bobbing to his preferred pace and bask in the sighs of ecstasy that come out from his mouth, especially the ones that sound a lot like your name.

“Wait-” he whines after a while, his hands leaving your head to grasp the bed sheets, his chest heaving with the effort of keeping his orgasm at bay, “Wait or I’ll come in your mouth.”

You consider pushing forward, bring him to his knees and let him fill up your mouth, feeling his essence coil down your throat and invade your belly but, in the end, you lift your head up and with a lewd pop, you leave his cock alone to stand perfectly tall before you, glistening with your saliva.

“How are you so good at sucking cocks?” He mumbles, more to himself than to you but you still giggle in response, quirking your eyebrows at him.

“I’m a natural talent,” you reply before tauntingly licking your lips. ‘Talent and lots of experience here at college, actually,’ but he doesn’t really need to know that, does he?

“Can I try something, though?” You ask biting your bottom lip in uncertainty. There are plenty of things you have never tried before but have been dying to for a while now and Jeongguk makes you want to explore all of them, all at the same time.

“Anything,” he promptly replies, his eagerness so endearing you can’t help but giggle again. Who knew Jeongguk had this much cuteness in him? Surely you had no idea prior to this very night.

You slowly roll off the bed, your knees hitting the ground as you drag him with you to the edge of the mattress again.

Jeongguk’s gaze is fixed on you, curiosity shining in his pupils as he studies your every movement, eager to discover what exactly you have in store for him.

You arch your back a little to align your chest to his erected cock standing tall in front of you, ready to be the center of your undivided attention again.

Your hands start caressing your breasts, bringing them together to squeeze his sex between them and give it a nice deep stroke.

Jeongguk’s breath trembles, his body shuddering at the new sensation and you look up at him earnestly, trying to adjust your pace to something that will bring him real pleasure.

You tilt your head a little forward as you gather some saliva in your mouth to coat his cock with in the absence of lube.

Jeongguk seems to find the visual particularly exciting as he grunts at the image depicted before him.

A smile spreads on your lips as a new idea surfaces in your mind, then.

You spread your legs a little further to stabilize yourself on the ground while bending your neck all the way forward, ready to welcome the head of his cock inside your mouth with each passing stroke of your tits.

"Oh, fuck." Jeongguk's high-pitched whine encourages you further, prompting you to set on a pace that is bound to make him crumble in the span of a few minutes.

Maybe it's because you told him not to hold back earlier or maybe he is just incapable of gulping down all of his lovely sounds but, yet again, Jeongguk is turned into a whimpering and moaning mess and each one of his little mewls makes your walls contract on thin air.

You unconsciously start bringing your legs closer to rub your thighs against each other, hopelessly seeking for a little friction on your neglected core.

Your arousal is dripping down your sex, coiling in big rivulets on your inner thighs, making them slick and slippery.

"I'm-" Jeongguk wets his dry lips, his pants already giving away what he is trying to say but you do play innocent, pretending not to know what exactly you are doing to him.

"Do you want me to come like this?" He asks in a breath, his hands fisting the covers while the muscles of his thighs contract in the effort of keeping himself steady.

Your mouth turns a little rougher on the head of his cock, your silence perfectly proving your point.

"I-ah! I want to make one of your wet dreams r-real" He confesses in a whine, his eyes closing and eyebrows furrowing with the incessant waves of pleasure that keep rushing over his body, menacing to bring him down.

"Is this what you dreamt of? Me coming in your mouth like this?"

You slow down your movements, your mouth leaving his cock again as you ponder his words. The answer would be no, actually. You had never dreamed about doing this with him and despite the excitement of the act, you do have to admit that what he is offering right now sounds far more tempting.

"Not exactly," you confess, your voice a little hoarse.

"Tell me," his voice suddenly turns sharp, losing all the needy and sweet tone he stuck with for the rest of the night and transforming into something more demanding.

You can't help but shiver at his sudden character switch and he is quick to catch up on it, to the way you instantly start biting down your bottom lip at his words.

His once gentle hands turn hard on your body as he lifts you up only to roughly throw you on the bed.

He climbs on top of you with no hesitation, fire burning in his eyes as he kisses your lips with a new-found fervor.

You whimper in the kiss, your fingers grasping his sweaty locks of hair to pull him even closer and feel his erection pressed atop your core.

"You like it a little rough, don't you?" He asks, his voice husky as he puts a hand around your neck, slightly pressing over your carotid to cut down the oxygen income.

"I-I do," you reply, your bottom lip trembling with excitement as he rolls his hips on top of yours.

This Jeongguk is the one that has been haunting your dreams ever since you met him but, after discovering his other side too you find yourself unable to decide which side you actually prefer: the one that likes to be teased, tortured and submitted or the one that loves to be rough, dominate and break his partner.

He pries your legs open with his hands, his mouth sliding down your neck so he can bite the tender flesh and leave his mark there, in plain sight.

The pain is sharp for a second, making you yelp, but as warmth spreads over your skin it is quickly subdued by pleasure and the feeling of his tongue lapping the battered skin.

Jeongguk slides his cock inside of you with one swift movement right in that moment and you whimper at the sudden feeling of being filled again by his rock-hard length.

Your eyes close as he keeps pushing deeper inside of you, seemingly only satisfied when he is completely lodged inside of you and ready to fuck your brains out.

Jeongguk's strokes are slow, dragged out to the point it makes you want to scream in frustration. He almost slides his cock completely out of you and then slams it right back in with one single stroke, making you jump as he hits the perfect spot with maddening precision.

You know he is doing this on purpose to get back to you and make you beg for it just like you did with him. Still, you don't give him the satisfaction of bringing you over the edge this easily, this quickly.

You endure it, closing your eyes and grasping the crumpled bed covers, biting your bottom lip to hide any sign of both pleasure and frustration.

"You want to play though, uh?" He asks as he fists your hair, forcing your head to lift off the bed and directly face him, "Two can play this game, baby."

A wicked smirk appears on his features making you shiver in anticipation, his eyes glinting with mischief as he lets go of your head only to focus on his cock, slowly moving in and out of your slick core.

His hands find purchase under your ribs, guiding you forward until your legs are resting on his shoulders and he has complete access to your sex.

With the new position, he wastes absolutely no time to slam inside of you with all the strength he is capable of, instantly making you mewl in pleasure.

You try to bite your bottom lip again, you try to gulp down all the sounds you want to emit out loud but as he starts pounding inside of you, it proves to be an impossible task.

The taste of blood fills your mouth as the tender flesh breaks under the vise of your own teeth and you are forced to let go of the poor battered flesh, consequently giving up your resolve of not showing him how much you are enjoying this change of scenario.

Without a force helping you contain your moans, they flood out of you like water from a broken dike and they quickly fill the room alongside his grunts and the heavy sounds of skin slapping on skin.

He pushes himself forward, bringing your legs with him so that you are almost folded in half, unable to escape his bruising pace inside of you.

"Jeongguk," you whimper out for him, your eyes searching his dark pools as your chest starts to heave with your panting breaths.

He rolls his hips harder into you in response, making your eyes roll back inside your head, your jaw turning slack as your mouth opens in a silent moan of pleasure.

You feel your walls starting to spasm, your legs quivering a little with your incumbent release and you start to fear he might retreat, edge you and denial your orgasm in order to make you cry out loud and beg him to let you come but what he does, instead, is roll his hips faster and throw you over that edge completely.

Your ears start ringing as the orgasm fully takes over your thoughts, blanketing them with white cotton.

His cock still hammers inside of you, milking your orgasm incessantly, ready to throw you back into it as soon as it seems like it has washed out of you.

It almost feels like too much having him still inside you like this, battering your pleasure spot so tirelessly but the slight discomfort gets washed away by bliss again in the span of a few seconds.

"Fuuuck," you whimper out, the word dragged out by your ragged breath.

His mouth finds yours again at this moment, ready to completely steal your breath away and leave you absolutely breathless.

Slowly, he draws a little backward, allowing your legs to fall on top of his as he repositions himself, turning you a little to the side so that he can rest right behind you.

You immediately turn your head behind your back, eager to keep your eyes on him and watch him come inside of you for the second time tonight. You do not want to miss a single twist in his features as he keeps fucking you like this.

His hands keep you firmly in place as he resumes his pace inside of you, effort and arousal painted all over his features as he chases his own release.

Even when he is being rough like this, bent on breaking you into pieces, he is letting out those heavenly sounds that captivated you in the first place tonight.

They are absolutely intoxicating, they ring like music to your ears and if you could hear a single sound for the rest of your life it would be exactly this: his moans and the sound of your name on his lips.

You can sense his orgasm nearing by the way his hips start losing their perfect pattern, by the way his breath is hitting your ear more rapidly and by how more high-pitched his moans are turning as time progress.

You purposefully contract your walls around him, making him grunt at the sensation, giving him that slight more push towards the verge of his release.

One of his hands lets go of your hip to travel forward, his fingers quickly finding your clit to draw large and deep circles over the bundle of nerves to bring you over the finish line in unison with him again.

The arousing sensation makes it hard for you to stop your hips from eagerly rolling onto his, following the movement of both his hand on your sex and his cock inside of you.

He comes inside of you with a low and deep moan that makes your walls contract and your mouth moan loudly for him in return.

Your body quivers for the third time tonight before turning into absolute jelly, shutting down in defeat.

Silence engulfs you whole and for a moment you think you may actually drift off to sleep like this, with the warmth of Jeongguk's body behind you and the reassurance of his presence by your side.

It is actually him that stirs you back into consciousness, bringing you closer to his chest so that his lips can brush against your ear.

"Was that how dream-Jeongguk did it?" He asks, chuckling a little over his own question.

You turn inside his embrace so that you can face him and shake your head no with a little smile on your lips.

"No, this Jeongguk is actually better."

His smile is full of pride as he steals a quick kiss from your mouth.

It is so endearing to watch him get back to his more cute side but again, it makes your heart hurt. As you rest like this, looking up at him, the misery of your situation awakens back inside of you.

There is no doubt by now that you have feelings for this boy right here, very big ones at that, and it is something clearly impossible, something you have to forget and pretend like it never existed.

It is with that fear of tomorrow in mind that you open up your mouth again, your eyes shining with the menace of tears.

Jeongguk seems to read your mind again tonight as he quickly presses his finger on top of your mouth.

"Don't. Don't say it."

His eyes turn serious as he stares down at you, all warmth and banter quickly disappearing from his features.

"Don't waste your last wish on me." He adds, his voice thick with emotion as he gulps down heavily, almost as if he were fighting against tears himself.

"Once your last wish is fulfilled I'll have to go back inside the lamp and we will never get to see each other again."

You nod your head a little because he has already explained this to you, yet, you still want to make another wish, extend this moment for as long as possible, rejoice in it while it lasts.

Jeongguk shakes his head no a few times, hugging you closer as if afraid you'd disappear in front of him when, actually, it would be him turning into a teal fog before your very eyes, leaving you alone to deal with a broken heart.

"There is no need to make a wish when I'd gladly stay here with you for as long as you'll want me to."

His left hand caresses your head lovingly, his eyes pleading you to let him finish, to not shatter this moment and turn it into your last one together.

"And I'll gladly make love to you whenever you want to and not because a wish binds us together, but because I want it too."

Before you know it, there are tears falling on your cheeks, turning your vision hazy as the real meaning behind his words finally hits you.

All this time, you had no idea. You didn't know that his eyes were always on you because he couldn't look away; you didn't know that he kept asking about your wishes not because he wanted to move on but because he was afraid of doing so; you didn't know that when he was granting you that first wish he was actually granting himself his own.

"Don't cry," he whispers on your lips, his thumbs drying your hot skin as a smile finally spreads on your lips.

It is happy tears that keep flooding from your eyes because it feels like a dream, a fantasy you'll have to wake up from eventually but it is not. Not this time.

And tonight, Jeongguk makes you his again but this time it is slow, gentle and sweet; this time he keeps whispering loving words inside your ears and kissing your lips to steal away all your beautiful whimpers and make them his own. This time, as you come together in each other's embrace, there is more than passion shining in your eyes. There is love.

Copyright © 2019 by jeonggukingdom. All rights reserved.

[nicolasnelson]

Sizzie fic - Wake from the Chaos [oneshot]

Title: Wake from the Chaos Relationship: Lizzie Saltzman/Sebastian Additional Tags: Sebastian's POV, Canon Compliant, Enemies to Lovers Words: 4,452

Summary: Everything changes when Sebastian meets Elizabeth Saltzman. He has a chance at life and love, even if it means sacrificing his freedom. But will he be able to win over Elizabeth after making her think she hallucinated him?

Requested by Anon // Prompt: The one-shot could be about Sebastian pov from the moment he woke up, what he thought about Lizzie, the school and etc.

[AO3 LINK]

Sebastian had never felt a connection quite like this. Elizabeth had called to him like a siren, but he’d been hesitant to heed the call. He’d been asleep for far too long, or something like sleep. A land of dreams, memories, unending agony over the loss of his beloved Cassandra.

But Elizabeth had awoken something in him. He knew not how his body came into contact with blood, only that the blood was rancid and inadequate. And yet, it was just enough for him to wander through this world again like a specter in the night.

He could feel a strong presence, a young lady, with the same fiery, passionate spirit as his great love. It had been impossible to ignore the call. Gazing upon her beauty after so many years of darkness had made him believe for just a minute that heaven could be real.

But no, that wasn’t the place for a man like him. He’d piled up the bodies higher than those on plague wagons. With his feast, he was a plague himself, tearing through whatever tasty piece of flesh crossed his path.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” the gorgeous siren said, and he had to laugh at the irony of it all. She could do nothing to harm him, even if she’d wanted to, and she really had no idea what he was capable of, what he’d done. What he could do. Even in this sad, miserable ghostlike state.

He could still hurt her. If he wanted to.

Sebastian should not have given his name when she asked. For it allowed her the opportunity to give hers, and that was the worst thing she could have done. It made her real, made her more than just a way out of this hellish nightmare. Elizabeth. He couldn’t help but see her as his savior, as beautiful as an angel, with the eyes of a devil. It awakened a desire in him he’d thought long dead.

And now was the moment to ask for her help, to finally be free. He had her exactly where he wanted as they sat by the lake. The question was halfway out of his mouth when Elizabeth noticed a figure holding a strange box in his hands.

Sebastian felt himself blinking away. It was hard to keep that form when Elizabeth was not focused on him.

And when he tried to reach for her again, he found the connection had broken. A familiar sadness settled inside him, a reminder that guys with pasts like his did not get happy endings. It had been foolish to think even for a moment that he might be able to have something with Elizabeth.

But he would not give up on his quest to restore his body. He was done festering in a box. So he found another way, another person he could reach. Not the right person, but it got him into the school. And once in there he found a willing ally, a lonely guy in desperate need of a friend.

Sebastian instructed the poor fool to give him just enough blood to wake his body. And once he could move freely, he arose from his box and bit into that lonely boy’s neck. And drank deep.

If it weren’t for Elizabeth, he would have killed the boy. He did not know the rules of this place. Therefore, he could not risk violating them, for fear he might never see Elizabeth again.

It was many days and many painful memories later before the idiotic vampires who managed to capture him let him see Elizabeth.

Her voice was music to his ears. “No more secrets.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he said sincerely. After all, it did sound reasonable, but he was careful not to word it as a promise. There were still a great many things he didn’t want Elizabeth to know.

She turned to look at him, but she didn’t greet him with the smile he was expecting. Elizabeth thought he was a hallucination, a sign that she was on the verge of another breakdown. He couldn’t blame her. That bumbling turnip had made her think she was imagining him. If it weren’t for Milton, he would have gotten Elizabeth to help revive him. He was certain she would have done it too. She’d played right into his hands like soft clay.

“You can see him?” Elizabeth asked the brunette girl beside her.

Milton stepped beside Sebastian. “Everyone can.”

Elizabeth’s eyes burned. “You two had better explain everything right now.”

“For hundreds of years I was trapped in a mere semblance of existence, a shadow of my former glory,” Sebastian began.

“The Spark Notes version,” Elizabeth said, cutting him off with a sharp glare.

“She means that you should get to the point,” Milton explained.

“Yes, I gathered as much. Just because I have been desiccated in a box for five hundred years does not mean my brain has rotted, you turnip.” Sebastian smacked the back of Milton’s head. “I have excellent deduction skills.”

“Well, your explanation skills are extremely lacking,” Elizabeth said, crossing her arms. “How can everyone see you now? You said you were desiccated.”

“Yes, the sparkling notes of it is that I was desiccated by a witch whom I loved very much. She did it to protect me from the Croatoan. That amulet your friend used to destroy that monster was given to me by her. Elizabeth, you must know that I never intended to hurt you.”

“You seduced me to, what, get me to restore your body?”

“Well, yes,” Sebastian admitted. “That is how it started at least. I felt drawn to you, as you were to me. I was able to reach your mind, to be seen by you, and—”

“You tried to take advantage of my feelings,” Elizabeth accused, fire on her tongue. “You let me think you were a real physical being. I told everyone about you. You didn’t think to mention to me, just once, that I was the only person who could see you? You can be as charming as you want, but I can see through you now, Saruman.”

“Lizzie, just let him speak,” Milton said.

She turned a fierce glare on him. “You’re just as bad as he is. How long have you known he was real? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Milton shrugged. “I didn’t think you’d handle it well.”

“How long, MG?”

“I don’t know. Four or five days. But I wasn’t sure if he was real. I thought I was hallucinating too, you know? And then I didn’t even agree to help him. He tricked Wes into reviving him.”

“You mean Wade?”

“Yeah, him. He’s alive. Don’t worry. He just used him to get enough blood to be revived. But I’m not defending him. What he did was wrong. He shouldn’t have lied to you, Lizzie.”

“And you shouldn’t have either, MG. I just can’t deal with you guys right now.” She grabbed the brunette girl’s arm. “Come on, Josie. Let’s let lying vampires lie.”

They stormed out of the gym.

“Well, that could have gone better,” Sebastian said.

Milton hung his head. “I should never have unchained you. Come on, I let you talk to Lizzie. You promised you’d come with me to the headmaster’s office.”

“Oh, yes, so he can decide whether to kill me or not. Lead the way, Milton, but you should be warned that I am prepared to take you hostage should the need arise.”

Milton rolled his eyes, looking resigned. “Let’s just see what Vardemus has to say.”

…

As it turned out, Vardemus was not in any rush to release Sebastian into the wild. He thought it would be better to punish Sebastian by enrolling him in the school.

Sebastian was very irked by this decision, but it wasn’t like he had anywhere else to go. So what if he had to attend a few dull classes? Besides, the closer he was to Elizabeth, the better chance he had at winning her back. She would be furious for a few days, but he knew how she felt about him. Waiting for Elizabeth would be nothing compared to the five hundred years he’d spent in that blasted box.

The headmaster provided him with a set of school uniforms, and he was allowed to spend a small amount of money at the bargain shop in town. With Milton and Kaleb’s supervision of course. They went at night since Sebastian did not have one of those fancy rings they wore that kept them from burning in the sun. It was remarkable how much technology had advanced in the time he’d been gone. He was fascinated by every aspect of it. All the flashing lights and startling sounds, the winds that blew out of air vents, the steel vessels that people steered through the streets.

But the townspeople he encountered were the worst. They all shot him suspicious glances and held their purses tightly against their chests. Even in ordinary clothes, he appeared as a threat. The human instinct was to avoid danger. Unless, of course, you were Elizabeth Saltzman.

She knocked on his door the morning of October the first with an unexpected gift for him.

“It’s a daylight ring, or it will be once I enchant it. I need you to come with me today.”

Sebastian smiled, thrilled at the invitation. He’d been waiting all week for Elizabeth to come to him, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so soon. “Why I would be delighted to accompany you, Elizabeth.”

She rolled her eyes and pushed past him. “Come on, let’s enchant this damn thing.”

“Will it protect me from the sun permanently?” Sebastian asked, curious.

“Not exactly. I have it in my power to undo the spell at any moment.” Elizabeth smirked, a hint of danger behind those eyes. “So I suggest you behave yourself.”

Elizabeth walked over to the window and pulled back the curtains enough to create a sliver of light across the wooden floorboards. Sebastian was surprised to see it was snowing outside, unusual weather for this time of year. Elizabeth explained that she needed sunlight for the spell to work. She claimed that the sunlight through the snow would be enough. Hopefully she was right.

Sebastian watched her while she worked. Her pale blond hair danced through the soft sunlight as she leaned over the ring she’d placed on the floor. She was kneeling beside it, muttering some incantation in a language Sebastian didn’t care to remember.

Her hair shifted, exposing her neck for a moment, and he remembered with startling clarity the hairstyle she had worn to the sports game. All of it pulled back in a fine braid, her neck completely visible for all to see. So beautiful. He’d always found a long elegant neck to be one of the most attractive features a woman could have. That and her sharp eyes, accentuated by those dark brows. It was enough to make his imagination run wild.

He’d felt an intimacy with her in that moment underground. He had revealed what he was to her, taking a calculated risk, sensing that the danger would draw her in. But she had laughed in his face, relieved rather than afraid. Now that he had seen the school she attended and the kind of vampires she interacted with on a day-to-day basis, he understood her reaction.

“Are you quite sure you know what you’re doing?” he asked her, watching as her brows pinched together. This could be some trick to get him to walk outside. Maybe he underestimated her fury.

“Be quiet. I’m trying to concentrate,” she snapped.

“As you wish.”

“Zip it.” She leveled a harsh glare on him. It sent a pleasant chill down Sebastian’s spine. He could watch Elizabeth glare at him all day. It was part of their dance. She would act like she hated him while repressing the desire she felt, and he would try to get her to admit to her feelings.

Elizabeth picked up the ring. It had a stunning blue stone in it, no doubt the source of its power. “Here, put it on. We’ve got to leave before we get snowed in.”

Sebastian was only too eager to follow her orders. That is, until they got to the door to the outside world. He feared the ring would do nothing to shield him.

Elizabeth grabbed his arm and forced him out into the snow. He waited for his skin to sizzle, for the pain to shoot through him, but all he felt was the cold. He reached out a hand to let the snowflakes fall onto his palm before Elizabeth yanked him to the side of the school.

So Elizabeth wasn’t on a mission of vengeance after all? She really wanted to spend time with him outside of the school. Sebastian couldn’t help but smirk. Today was an excellent chance for him to finally get her to admit she still had feelings for him. He remembered their kiss very well, despite not being in his real body at the time. He’d still felt everything, though her emotions had been amplified. His connection had been to her spirit after all.

Though he could no longer feel her emotions, he was getting particularly good at reading her. Today’s adventure was an invitation to get to know her better, and he quite liked that idea. He followed her towards what she called “their ride.”

The steel vessel she produced looked old and worn. He watched Elizabeth climb into it first and followed her movements, sitting in the seat next to her. It wasn’t so different from a carriage, though there were no horses to drive it. He wondered if it ran on magic. He’d seen some of these in the town when he went shopping with Kaleb and Milton, but he had too much pride to ask them about it.

Elizabeth put a key into the vessel and turned it. The vessel hummed to life. He could feel the whole thing vibrating like a violin string. Elizabeth fiddled with some more knobs and the vessel began moving.

Once they were on their way, Sebastian stared out the window, watching the town pass by. He’d only seen it at night, and he’d never seen it covered in snow. All the children looked so happy, building shapes out of snow and throwing balls of snow at each other. It looked fun. He wished he could join them. A nice game with the children, and then he’d have a lovely conversation with one of the parents about how sweet her kids were, and then he’d compel her to follow him, and he’d get a taste of that sweet motherly love. And by love he meant blood. Damn he was hungry.

The snow melted away as they headed farther down the winding streets. Open fields and trees flew past them. This vessel moved faster than any horse Sebastian had ever ridden, yet compared to his vampire speed running, it was incredibly slow. One of the oddities of being a vampire. Traveling by normal methods always felt like a leisurely stroll.

Elizabeth turned another knob and music poured forth from the vessel. Sebastian nearly jumped out of his seat, and Elizabeth laughed at him, a wicked smirk on her lips.

Sebastian started fiddling with all the buttons, partially because he was curious at what they all would do, but mostly because he wanted to get Elizabeth back for startling him.

“Would you literally stop pushing my buttons?”

“So, she finally speaks, eh? Sorry, but this modern machinery fascinates me.”

Elizabeth grabbed his hand to move it away from the buttons. That brief skin-to-skin contact felt like a blessing.

Sebastian used to opportunity to voice his hunger, but it was clear Elizabeth was not going to let him prey upon a human, even if he had no intention of killing them. He wouldn’t kill anyone around Elizabeth at the very least.

He steered the conversation back to how Elizabeth obviously fancied him, but she did not like that at all. Elizabeth made the vessel screech to a halt, and Sebastian barely caught himself on the dashboard.

“You command this vessel like a drunken pirate,” he complained.

Elizabeth said she’d just seen a deer. Sebastian perked up, his mind already on that sweet blood. Animal blood was not as good as human blood, of course, but he was hungry enough not to care. Besides, it had to be better than the rabbit blood they served at the Salvatore School. That atrocity was barely fit for consumption.

“Is this some kind of test?” Sebastian asked, certain that it was.

Elizabeth assured him it was.

He knew that getting out of the vessel and pursuing the deer would mean failing the test. In fact, he knew there likely was no deer. He had not smelled anything deer-like, but he could sense that Elizabeth needed time to calm down by herself. He stepped out of the vessel, and sure enough she sped away from him.

Sebastian laughed. She really thought she could out-drive a vampire? He could catch up to her in minutes. But first, he did want to settle the rumbling in his stomach.

He turned his head, sniffing the air for any sign of wildlife. There was a farm not too far from here with some cows. Adequate. But he was hoping when he got there, he’d find a farmer to snack on.

…

Sebastian caught up to Elizabeth after darkness had descended. His stomach was satisfied. He’d found a farmer and his wife to sate his hunger. But now he had another kind of hunger, one he hoped Elizabeth could help him fulfill.

He recognized the boy Elizabeth was talking to. It was the one from school who was neither a witch nor a vampire nor a werewolf. A phoenix. He wondered if it was true that he would resurrect from death. Sebastian was too curious not to test the theory. He snapped the boy’s neck with a satisfying crack.

“I say, you people talk entirely too much when action is required,” he told Elizabeth, shaking his head.

She glared at him. “You just killed my friend.”

“Your friend? Really, now? The way you talk about him I figured he was an unwanted puppy. Anyways, he will arise from the ashes in a couple of hours, yes?”

“Don’t you know how to think before you act?”

Sebastian couldn’t help but smile, though he felt a little pained at her words. “I do an excessive amount of thinking, I assure you, Elizabeth Saltzman. Just as I have already considered all the ways to rekindle our romance.” He ran a finger along her arm, a gentle touch, a silent request for permission to touch her more.

Elizabeth stepped out of his reach. “We need to hurry back to the school. Come on, we can load Landon in the truck.”

“Is that really the way to treat your friend?”

“Right now he’s just a sack of dead weight. Besides, we can’t very well put him in the back seat. If we get stopped by a police officer, we’ll be in big trouble.”

“No, we wouldn’t. I could just compel them.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “I'd rather not have to deal with the police. What are you just standing there for? Pick him up.”

Sebastian grinned. He liked when Elizabeth bossed him around. He picked up the dead phoenix like he weighed nothing and carried him over to the vessel. “You seem to have lost the top of your vessel,” he said, staring at it curiously.

“Ugh, the top folds down. Stop asking questions, you ringwraith. Just put him in the trunk.” Elizabeth fiddled around with the knobs until the trunk opened with a click. Sebastian set the body into the trunk and slammed it shut.

“Don’t phoenixes normally burst into flames when they’re reborn? Shouldn’t we be worried he’ll set the vessel on fire?”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Maybe you should have thought of that before you killed him. I’m not an idiot.” She held up a glowing box. “I set a timer. We’ll just need to stop when the timer goes off and take him out of the trunk so he can burst into flames and rise from the ashes.”

“This device counts a specified amount of time. Like a candlestick?”

Elizabeth didn’t even bother answering him. She walked over to the vessel and got into the driver’s seat. She turned the key, and the car bobbed up and down, but it didn’t move forward like it did before.

“Is something wrong?” Sebastian asked, leaning his arms on the windowsill of the vessel.

“It’s fine. Sometimes it just takes a little time for it to get moving. I told you, this car is ancient.” She tried again but to no avail. Huffing in frustration, she pulled a metal tool out of the glove compartment and tossed it towards him.

Sebastian barely caught it. “What’s this?”

“I don’t know. An axel or something? Use it to fix the car.”

Sebastian lifted an eyebrow. “You want me to attempt to fix your vessel? Elizabeth, I do not even know how it works. What do you expect me to do?”

“You said you were good at deducting, so deduct.” She motioned to the car.

Sebastian walked around it, studying it for any oddities. He got to the back of the car. “Ah, it seems one of your wheels is less round than the others.”

“A flat tire then. We should have a spare in the back.”

“Next to the dead phoenix. Fantastic. Can you, uh, command the trunk to open?”

Elizabeth huffed. “Whatever.”

The trunk clicked as it popped open. Sebastian reached inside for a rubber wheel, but he found none. However, he could smell that a wheel was in the trunk somewhere. He felt along until he found a groove right under the dead phoenix. “Excuse me, good sir.” He pushed the phoenix out of the way so he could pull open the secret compartment and extract the wheel. He also found a box full of many different tools. He pulled it out in case any of them proved useful.

He slammed the trunk shut, and Elizabeth jumped in the car.

Sebastian smirked to himself. Finally, some proper payback for the music earlier. He set the wheel down next to the car and studied the one still attached to the car. This didn’t make any sense to him. He picked up the axel thing, wondering if he was supposed to hit the wheel with it or something, when he noticed the end fit the outline of the spokes on the wheel.

After that, it was easy enough to figure it out, and by that he meant it was incredibly difficult. He first managed to pull off the hubcap, as Elizabeth called it, but not the wheel itself.

Elizabeth lay down on the front of the car while he worked. He doubted she was sleeping though. She definitely did not trust him enough to lower her guard in his presence.

Most of the tools in the kit proved useless. Finally, he tried to axel again and was able to get the wheel off. He traded it with the new one.

“Well, this settles the matter,” he said at last. “You are a terrible pilot.” 

“I didn’t think that being with you could get any more miserable.”

Sebastian tossed the axel onto the ground. He was getting frustrated with Elizabeth. She clearly had feelings for them, but she was much more stubborn about fighting them than he had expected. “You are only angry because your plan to abandon me has failed.”

There was only one thing for it now. Things were moving too slow. He peeled off his shirt, ready to use his muscles to his advantage.

And that did the trick. Elizabeth could not look away from him. Their arguments turned into banter, and suddenly Sebastian knew what he had to do. He had figured out before when he was still without a working body that Elizabeth was drawn to danger. He only needed to remind her just how dangerous he was.

He gripped her throat, and time seemed to slow down as he looked into her eyes, searching for that familiar thrill. “And you are forgetting that I am dangerous.”

“Stop talking.” She moved his hand. “Action is required.”

Those were his words, and he couldn’t be more delighted to hear them thrown back at him. She pulled him into a fierce kiss, and Sebastian felt vindicated in his theory. Elizabeth Saltzman wanted him because he was dangerous, and she was giving him permission to show him just how dangerous he could be.

He didn’t want to hurt her too much, but a little pain might be just what she was craving. He lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around him, and he pushed her into a sitting position on the hood of the car, removing a layer of her clothes while the kissing intensified.

He felt like he’d been starved for hundreds of years as he pressed Elizabeth down onto the hood of the car. She wrapped her legs around him, running her fingers through his hair and tugging. A pleasant shiver ran down Sebastian’s spine. He felt welcome in her embrace.

He tightened his grip around her waist, pulling her closer to him. With his other hand he slipped her shirt over her head. It tangled in her hair, and she giggled, helping him get it over her head. He tossed it aside, and ran a hand down the middle of her chest.

Elizabeth reached behind her and fumbled around, biting her lip, until her bra popped off. She tossed it onto the car seat and propped herself up on her elbows.

Sebastian drank in the sight of her. Beautiful, flawless skin. Her silky hair draped across her chest. Those perfect nipples peeking out through the strands. Her eyes were like a flame drawing him in. Oh, he wanted all of her, but she was almost too precious to touch. He worried that if he went too far, if she didn’t really want this, he’d ruin any chance he had with this angel.

“Are you sure this is okay?” he asked. He felt like a tightly wound coil. If she said yes, he would spring into action, but if she said no, he would need to get far away from her, work out this energy in some other way.

“Yes, I’m sure. Now make me feel alive, Sebastian.”

He smirked. That he could do.

[dentalinstrument78-blog]

The 43 Ultimate Comfortable Marriage Suggestions

That is something I have been wanting to jot down for some time — a Handbook for Life. You may consider artists as being moody and depressed, but studies show that participating in inventive activities frequently actually makes you happier. Those who spend time using their creativeness and being creative have more enthusiasm and usually tend to have emotions of lengthy-term happiness and nicely-being. Such artistic actions can embody writing, portray, drawing and musical performance. Our brains are wired to notice and keep in mind the issues which might be improper. It is a survival mechanism that helped maintain our cave-dwelling ancestors protected in a world where there have been many bodily threats. However in immediately's comparatively secure world, this organic predisposition to concentrate on the detrimental contributes to emphasize and unhappiness. It's essential to concentrate on the outcome, or at the least a means-level in your life. Don't think about the method for getting there yet—that's the following step. Give yourself permission to revisit this imaginative and prescient on daily basis, even if just for a few minutes. Preserve your vision alive and within the entrance of your mind.

Fact: Being in a wholesome, supportive love relationship does contribute to happiness, however it's not true which you could't be completely satisfied and fulfilled in case you're single. Certainly, singles who have meaningful friendships and pursuits are happier than folks in mismatched romantic relationships. It is also necessary to notice that even a good marriage or romantic partnership does not result in a permanent, intense happiness boost. Anticipating your partner to ship your happily-ever-after may actually harm the relationship within the lengthy-run. You—not your companion or your family members—are responsible for your own happiness. Give sincere thanks to others. When someone goes above and beyond or does one thing to make your day simpler, be quick to verbalize your thanks and appreciation. Not solely will it make the particular person really feel good, it offers you a happiness elevate, too. It's an instant reward to see how expressing gratitude makes a positive difference in someone else's day. It makes you realize that we're all linked and that what you do matters. Wassan Dental Specialty Center gives Sleep Apnea Treatment in Oman to help the folks of Oman to attain and sustain a wholesome smile. We now have resident specialists in Orthodontics (Brackets and Aligners), Invisalign, Prosthodontics (Dental Implants), Endodontics (Root Canal Remedy), Cosmetic Dentistry (Whitening, Veneers and Digital Smile Design) and Little one & Paediatric Dentistry other than Normal Dentistry.

[jenomark]

Chapter 4

○Pairing: College!Mark x Reader (Female) ○Other Members/ Characters: Renjun. Brief appearances by Johnny & Jeno. ○Genre: fluff & a little angst ○Warnings: X ○Word count: 3,749

→Summary: A new school, no friends, and a boy who unexpectedly runs into you and changes everything.

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

 You yanked the seat belt, but it stopped mid-way. You tugged and tugged, your fingers slipping down the material, but it still wouldn’t budge. You gave it a last pull, and the metal part came off in your hands. Without missing a beat, Mark grabbed it from your hand, and threw it on the floor like it was a minor inconvenience. 

“The car is a work in progress,” he said, putting on his glasses. 

“Oh My God, I’m going to die in this car,” you said. “When they scrape my body off the highway, can you tell them I didn’t get into this vehicle voluntarily?”

  Mark smiled to himself. You liked seeing him smile, how his face transformed instantly from it’s usual bewildered look. You found yourself smiling a little, too. You went to lean your head on the headrest as a sign that you were admitting defeat when you realized there wasn’t one.

“Mark Lee,” you whispered. “You are incurable.”

“You won’t die,” he said, starting the car. “I’ll take good care of you. Don’t you trust me?”

“No,” you said, flatly. “We should borrow my mom’s car, or better yet, let’s not go at all.”

Mark put his hands on the steering wheel. “Right. We’re going. “

 You held onto your knees as he put the car in reverse, inching the car back to get out of the tight space he parked in. It sounded like his car was screaming as it moved, a cry of desperation for Mark to learn how to parallel park better. It took many tries for Mark to get out of the parking spot, and in that time, you flipped through your phone, looking at all of the Instagram posts Renjun had put up since the day before.

“He looks so happy.” you said.

  Mark put the car into drive and took off down the street. The metal sound eventually got quieter the faster the car went, but the ride was bumpy.

  Renjun never used his Instagram before college. Once, he had called it a waste of millennial space. He used to mock all of the pictures on your own profile, twisting his body into a pretzel to copy your poses and make a point you never quite understood. Post-high school Renjun loved updating social media. You went through his page and looked at the selfies, candids of his friend group, and an array of food pictures. You didn’t know why seeing all of the content made you feel so lonely, but the feeling itched your body until you scratched it with a rusty nail.

“He’s doing what any college boy would do,” Mark said.  “Maybe a little dorkier than most.”

  Mark looked over at the pictures before putting his eyes back on the road. You thought about asking him if the way you were feeling was normal, but you didn’t know him well enough to make up your mind whether or not you cared about his opinion. 

 “What?” he asked.

“Nothing.”

 “You’re staring at me. “

“Can I not look at you?”

“Not with that face.”

  You pulled down his visor and looked at your reflection in the mirror. The girl staring back at you looked like you, but she didn’t feel like you. Among all of the weird feelings you were having, the sadness that occasionally crept in was front and center. No amount of school, of boys with rings, and weird roommates, could change the fact that, without Renjun, it was hard to cope.

“There isn’t anything wrong with my face.” you said, pushing the visor back up.

  The drive was mostly quiet. Mark put on the stereo, but it was broken and he couldn’t change the station. You had to listen to yeehaw music the whole way, it’s staticky tunes making your head feel like it was going to explode. 

“Why are you doing this?” you asked.

“Doing what?”

“Don’t play dumb.”

Mark sighed. “We’re friends.”

“We are not actually friends.”

“We are not not friends.”

  Mark stopped at a red light. In that part of town, college kids roamed about in droves. Some walked with arms linked, the skin on their faces creased with laughter, and the others huddled books to their chest, heads down and hearts up. You couldn’t stop staring at them, wondering how they lived, and if they did, how deeply they were affected by their problems.

“Do you ever wish you had a normal family life?” you asked. “Like the ones you see on television? A perfect mother, a present father, the bratty younger sibling you hate but secretly would never change, the picturesque house in the suburbs, family Christmases, and I suppose, somewhere in the future, a family of your own. You would never know what a lack of love feels like, never know what it’s like to go without something. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

“It sounds white,” Mark said. “Also, it doesn’t exist. The family Christmas you’re talking about? Your uncle is on the couch passed out after drinking five beers, your mother is cheating on your father with her Avon catalog, and you? You’re wondering how the other side lives. It’s all the same.”

“That sounds miserable.”

“That’s life.”

  Mark pulled into a parking spot and turned the car off.  You couldn’t get his words out of your head. They swam around, knocking into the sides of your brain and ricocheting off, settling into every dark place you had. 

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, again.

  Mark grabbed a baseball cap from his back seat and put it on his head. He fluffed the pieces of his hair that were sticking out of the sides. When he wasn’t satisfied, he turned the cap backwards, pulled down the visor to look at himself quickly, and put it back up.

“Honestly?” he asked. “I don’t know. It doesn’t have to mean anything. I was bored and had nothing else to do. And I like being around you.”

“You do?”

“No.” he said.

  You rolled your eyes, making sure he could see. He looked at you like he wanted to scold you for it, but decided it wasn’t worth it. Instead, he took off his glasses and put them in the glove box. He opened his car door and got out, grabbing a backpack and slinging it on his back before he shut the door. When you tried doing the same, you realized there was a child lock on your door. Mark came around to your side and leaned against his car.

“You really should stop doing that,” he said. “It’s not very becoming.”

“I don’t care,” you said. “Let me out.”

“What will you give me if I let you out?”

“I’ll let you keep your life.”

Mark laughed, slapping his knee as he did. “You’re funny.”

  You tried the door handle again, but it was still locked. Mark went around to the back door and pointed at the hoodie in the backseat.

“Put that on.” he said.

“I’m not wearing your hoodie.”

“You have to blend in,” he said. “You don’t look like a local.”

  You looked down at your clothes. After Mark came to your house, you ran upstairs and got ready, putting on your best dress and slicking your hair back into a neat bun. It was true, you would stick out. Giving up, you reached back and grabbed a plain, forest green hoodie, shrugging it halfway down your body. Mark opened the door and you got out, feeling crabby.

“You look good.” he said.

  Mark pulled the rest of the hoodie down your body with one tug, and gave a nod of appreciation. You wanted to ask why a hoodie made a difference, but you didn’t want to hear his spiel on how much smarter he was than you. 

“Let’s just go.” you said.

 As you made a step forward, a skateboarder flew by, nearly knocking you over. Mark grabbed you in time, pulling you back so you wouldn’t collide. You clutched a hand to your chest. Mark noticed the ring on your finger and swiped his thumb over it.

“Ah, the things we almost die for.” he said.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

  You ignored him and started walking, hugging your arms around your body. You had never been on Renjun’s campus before, not even to tour it. Everything looked much more expensive than your college, it’s buildings looking like they could devour yours. The air had a permanent smell of fresh cut lawns and fancy perfume. You walked up a few stone paths, reading signs that felt like they were leading you around in a circle.

“We’ll stop and ask someone.” Mark said.

“What if they bust us?” you asked, pulling him by his sleeve. “We’re not supposed to be here.”

“This school has thousands and thousands of kids, and you think they’ll take one look at us and know we go to a less prestigious school?” he asked.

“They will if they see your shitty car.”

“Funny,” he said. “I’ll ask someone.”

  Mark tried stopping a group of boys, but one boy hit him with his shoulder and kept walking, and the rest of the group laughed. Every time he tried to stop another person, they practically ran away from him. 

“Also,” he said. “My car is not shitty. She’s gotten me through some really rough spots in high school.”

“Maybe it’s the stench coming from you then.” you said.

“You’re seriously so mean to me.”

“Am not.”

  Mark opened his mouth to argue, but a boy interrupted him. He was taller than you both by a good five inches, and the air he gave off was very authoritative. He reminded you of a scary professor, but he was much too young to be anything but a student. Mark, without thinking twice, grabbed your hand and held it. You tried worming your way out of his grip, but he crushed your fingers with his.

“Hello.” Mark said.

“Hi, friend,” the boy said. “Are you lost? Do you attend this school?”

“I do,” Mark said. “We do. Do you go here?”

“You do?” you asked, Mark. 

“I do,” Mark said. “We do. Do do.” 

“Okay,” the boy said. “I’m going to pretend I know what any of that means. Anyway, my name is Johnny Seo. I’m in my last year here, and I’m kind of a big deal. You may have heard of me.”

“No, sorry.” you said.

Johnny continued, “ I help freshmen find their life path, here at this establishment. Are you interested in finding your life path?”

“No, thank you,” you said, smiling sweetly. “We have somewhere to be, a different path.”

“Which is?” Johnny asked.

“Yes,” Mark said. “I would also like to know what path.”

  You swung your arm forward to show Johnny your hand that was glued to Mark’s. Both Johnny and Mark were puzzled and trying to decipher what you meant.

“We’re going to suck each other's face off,” you said. “Because we’re dating. This is what boyfriend and girlfriend do, they hold hands and they suck face.”

“Suck face?” Mark asked. “What are you, from the 90′s?”

“Maybe.”

  Mark rolled his eyes, which made you point dramatically at him. He let go of your hand and threw his arm around Johnny.

“We’re actually going to study,” Mark said. “Education is important to us, you see. Our life path is learning, Johnny. You may have heard of it.”

“Studying,” Johnny said. “Right. My program offers a great place for studying that makes everything stress free. If you just follow me, I can show you.”

“We have to go,” Mark said, removing his arm. “We have to go suck face.”

“What?” you asked.

  Mark took your arm and started pulling you backwards. Johnny looked from him to you, his eyes narrowing when he locked eyes with you. Mark kept pulling until you started moving, and then you both broke out into a run, clearing a lot of distance between you and Johnny. Mark led you around another corner that brought you to a small building with darkened windows.

“He was suspicious.” Mark said.

“How? “

“I think it’s because of your hoodie.” Mark said.

  You playfully pushed Mark. The laugh that escaped from his mouth made you feel a pang in your chest that passed as quickly as it had come. He leaned against a brick wall to catch his breath. You looked back around the corner to see Johnny trying to get other students on his life path.

“I’m not sure his life path didn’t include drugs.” Mark said.

“Likely,” you said. “But he might have been legit. Renjun told me that everyone where he lives is really normal.”

“And he lives where? How do you not know where he lives?” Mark asked. “He’s your best friend.”

“We never talked about it.”

“What do you talk about?”

 You tried searching your brain for what you talked about over the phone, but you couldn’t come up with anything substantial. You figured he would have told you once or twice where exactly he lived, but Renjun mostly kept quiet when you talked. You always assumed it was because he wanted to get back to his friends instead of talking to you on a Saturday night.

“We always just talk about me.” you said.

“Interesting.”

“Why is that interesting?”

“Are you really that oblivious?” he asked. “Forget I said anything.”

  You walked back to Mark and put your hands on your hips. You tried to seem threatening, like you would beat it out of him if he didn’t tell you, but your bravado faded as soon as he smiled.

“I can take it,” you said. “Tell me.”

“Fine. You only talk about yourself, “ he said. “I don’t mean to call you out, but it’s what I’ve noticed.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’re quick to defend yourself,” he said. “But you know I’m right. You don’t know where your best friend lives because all you talk about are your problems. Think about it. You inserted yourself into my life because of something you had a problem with. That doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

“That’s not-”

“-What do you know about me then?”

“You live with your parents.”

“And?”

“You drive.”

“You’re getting colder,” he said.

  You looked down at the ground in shame. Hearing something truthful about yourself always hurts, especially when it comes from people you barely know.  If they can see your flaws so easily, what else can the people who know you see, and better yet, why did they still stick around? Is that why your dad left? He saw the real you and figured out how much he didn’t need you in his life. You had a lot of deep-rooted issues you had yet to solve, and although you weren’t fully aware of what Mark said, he was right. Ever since you can remember, you’ve been so focused on yourself and losing who that person is,  you’ve neglected everyone else.

“I’m sorry.” you said.

“You don’t have to apologize to me.”

“But I want to.”

“I didn’t mean for this to be…” he said. “I have issues too, okay. I live with my parents because I’m terrified of being on my own. I wrote my ex that letter that day because I didn’t want to face my own self. It’s a hard world out there, and we’re all just trying our best.”

 You leaned against the wall with Mark. Your shoulder touched his, but there wasn’t anything intimate about it. He felt comfortable, safe.The two of you stayed like that for a little while until Mark peeled himself from the brick and held out his hand.

“Let’s go find him.” he said. 

“He won’t want to see me.”

“We’re not doing the pity thing,” he said. “Let’s get it.”

  When you didn’t immediately take his hand, Mark waved it about impatiently. You rolled your eyes, which you know he hated, and walked on without him. He followed behind, keeping his distance as you looked around at all of the buildings. You stopped someone for directions on your own. His name was Jeno, and he was very accommodating. He walked both you and Mark to the student dorms, which were massive buildings that felt more like a maze than living spaces.

‘“Thank you,” you told Jeno. When he left, you turned to Mark. “We’ll never find him in this place.”

“Maybe we can just call his name three times and he’ll poke his head out of one of these windows.” Mark said.

You sighed. “Nothing is ever easy, is it.”

“Wouldn’t be fun if it were,” Mark said. “Come on, we’ll just walk the floors until we find him, ask around, and maybe we’ll find him quicker than we think. You said he’s pretty popular, right?”

“He said he made a lot of friends.”

“Great,” Mark said. “Nothing better than two losers walking into a den of lions.”

 You started walking forward and remembered that you had a phone in your pocket. Mark slapped his forehead and told you that you should have just texted him from the start.

You: Renjun, what floor do you live on?

Renjun: What? Why?

You: Don’t worry about it. Tell me what floor you live on.

Renjun: You’re not here, are you?

You: I’m home. 

You: Junie, Are you there?

Renjun: Why do you need to know?

You: Why are you being so secretive?

Renjun: I’m not, liar.

You: Please, just tell me.

Renjun: No. Why don’t you tell me about the boy you’ve been hanging around with first.

You: Me? A boy? Renjun, I’m offended.

Renjun: I called your house. Your mom told me a boy came to pick you up. She said his name was Mark.

Renjun: Is Mark your new best friend?

Renjun: Is he handsome?

Renjun: Your mother likes him. I don’t know how I feel about that.

  You showed the conversation to Mark. Mark squinted since he wasn’t wearing his glasses. He read to the very last text, and then looked back up at you.

“Are you going to answer him?” he asked.

“No,” you said. “This was supposed to be a surprise.”

“No, I mean, about if I’m handsome.”

  You snatched the phone from Mark’s hand and looked back at the messages. It was normal for Renjun to question any new people in your life. You hadn’t mentioned Mark before, and like Mark had brought to your attention, all you ever did was talk about yourself.

You: He’s the ugliest boy I’ve ever laid my eyes on.

You: He stinks, too.

You: And he’s Canadian.

  You made sure Mark saw what you wrote before you turned off your phone and put it back into your pocket. He didn’t give you a witty remark, just fixed the hat on his head and bent the brim a little. 

“How did you know I’m Canadian?” he asked.

“Your notebook,” you said. “Mark Lee, contrary to belief, I know you better than you think I do.”

“Fuck, I forgot about that,” Mark said. “Not only are you selfish, but you’re nosy. I forgot to include that important point.”

“How can I be selfish and so concerned with others at the same time?” you asked. “Doesn’t that cancel each other out.”

“You’re an interesting person.”

“Glad you think so.”

“No, “ he said. “That isn’t what I meant.”

  You entered the building. Mark kept talking and trailing behind you, his words spiraling out of control. You ignored him, looking at the nameplate on the doors you passed. Some of them were decorated with foam letters, the crooked names looking more like the door for a Kindergarten classroom that a dorm. Others had been tagged with permanent markers, with red solo cups taped to the wood. It was a male dorm, and it smelled just like it.

“I feel like I’m not supposed to be here.” you said.

“And you think you’re the first girl that’s walked through these halls?”

“I don’t want to think about it at all.”

  The halls were mostly clear except for a few boys passing through, shower caddies or textbooks in their hands. No one looked at either of you as they walked by. It was as if the two of you didn’t exist, which was much different from the way Renjun had painted the people at his school to be. Over phone calls, he mentioned how everyone was friendly, and how the environment was welcoming, even introverts like him felt accepted.

“Elevator,” Mark said. His hand shot out, holding the big doors so they wouldn’t close. The muscles and veins in his arms popped out, giving you a full display of how built Mark really was. “What are you waiting for? Get in.”

  You walked into the elevator. Mark slipped in, going immediately to the railing to hold on. You watched as his knuckles gripped the bar until they were white. He scrunched his face and closed his eyes. You hit the button for floor number 2, not tearing your eyes away from him.

“Are you okay, Mark?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

  The elevator doors should have opened at 2, but they stayed closed. You realized that you had hit floor 12, instead. When Mark opened his eyes for a split second and noticed your blunder, he winced.

“I need you to do me a favor,” he said. “One favor. An exchange, really.”

“Okay. What is it?”

“I need you to hold me.”

“You need me to do what now?”

“Hold me,” he said. “ Please, hold me.”

 You rushed Mark and took him in your arms. He leaned his forehead against your shoulder, tucking his face into your neck. You held him around his middle, your hands pressed against his back. His arms snaked around your body and pulled you tighter to him. You had never been that close to a boy in your life except for Renjun, but definitely never so close that you could feel every bit of his body against yours.

“Are you going to be okay?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “I have childhood trauma from elevators.”

“Why did we get into one?” you asked. “I would have taken the stairs.”

“I did it for you.” he said.

 You closed your eyes and buried your own face into Mark’s neck. As the elevator made it to floor 12, the doors opened, revealing Renjun.

“What the fuck?” Renjun said.

[paradisobound]

Keep My Head Above Water

Summary: Dan is the captain of his high school swim team and the sport means more than anything to him. He hopes to be recruited into college so he can continue to swim, however, his plan changes when he fails English. Being tutored by Phil, Dan soon sees that even though he still wants more than anything to continue to swim, he may also want something else too.

Word Count: 7.8k 

Rating: Teen and Up 

Genre: high school!phan 

written for the 2019 @phandomreversebang! 

**Link to Ao3 | Link to Art**

Special thanks to my amazing artist @drawingdawnart for creating such a great prompt and such great art! I’m a sucker for high school au’s so this was right up my alley! Also thanks to my beta @completelyuncreative2! 

Some disclaimers: I did try to make this accurate but I knew in the end that this is fiction and I shouldn’t beat myself up for some inaccuracies so please, if anything isn’t accurate, take it with a grain of salt! 

The first time that Daniel Howell ever saw Phil Lester was at his first home meet, freshman year of high school. He was nervous, and it was his first time doing the butterfly stroke for his team, having been a new swimmer this year. But he was determined to try his best and try and win something for his new teammates.

Phil was in the bleachers on the side of the pool, his body slumped over a white notepad and his black pen furiously writing against the page. Dan had remembered watching him, wondering what he was doing and what he was writing, and  also why he looked so mad doing it.

Dan doesn’t remember much of the rest of the meet, just that he did in fact break several school records that had been in place since the 1950s and he even earned a spot in the swimming hall of fame photo section in his coaches office.

And later that week, after the high had worn off and Dan had finally felt like he was back to normal ground and not floating on cloud nine, he finds a newspaper sticking out of the side of his locker. He picks it up and unfolds it, and sees his picture on the cover of his school’s newspaper.

“Freshman Dan Howell Defeats Long Term Records”

Written by Phil Lester, grade 9

That’s the first time Dan really knew who Phil was or why he was at his swim meet to begin with. And for the next four years, he’d see Phil sitting in the same red, worn out metal bleachers, writing furiously in a white note pad with his body slumped slightly over.

But Dan’s never spoken to him.

He’s never thanked him for the amazing articles that Phil has written about his accomplishments, like how he smashed his old records with literally no effort. Or how he was named captain of the swim team by a landslide.

And maybe that’s why Dan is suddenly so curious to know why he’s staring at Phil Lester as he reads to himself at a table in the corner of the library. It sounds like Shakespeare, but Dan can admit he doesn’t know much about him, other than he can’t understand him.  It’s Old English, someone would argue, but Dan would just say it was incoherent.

He watches Phil a little bit longer as he turns from page to page in his own little world, reading each line and talking to himself about it. In another world, Dan might have seen anyone else doing that thought they were weird. But seeing Phil speak to himself makes him a bit more intrigued to hear more.

The bell rings and interrupts Dan’s thoughts, and  he slowly gathers his notebook and pens and tosses them into his bag. He has another home meet tonight and his brain is only concentrated on how he’s so close to beating his own record again for the butterfly. He’s so close, just a few milliseconds off and he knows that he can do it if he tries harder. He just knows.

Dan meanders his way to his math class and drops into his seat in the back of the room and chews on his pen the entire time as his teacher, Mr. Griffiths drawls on and on about the importance of cubed roots.

In English class, Dan is faced with the same boring book that they have been reading for the last month...something to do with killing a mockingbird? He’s honestly not quite sure. He finds himself thumbing through the pages of the worn out copy of the book and just staring at the highlighted words from students past.

“Mr. Howell!” Dan slowly averts his gaze up from the well-used pages and finds himself staring directly at the face of Mr. Perkins in the front of the classroom, a piece of chalk between his fingers and the same well worn book in his hand. “Do you care to explain to the class what you think the significance is of the items that Scout finds in the tree?”

There was a tree? And who is Scout? Does he mean a Boy Scout? Girl Scout? Dan feels himself panic a bit and he’s about to answer Mr. Perkins’ question when suddenly, black hair jolts up in the seat in front of him and someone else is speaking.

“With all due respect, Mr. Perkins,” It’s Phil Lester and he’s speaking up for Dan right now. But why? Dan’s confused. He’s never spoken to Phil, much less actually had any interactions with him besides just the many stories written about his success. “I think it’s unfair to ask that question because unless you’ve read ahead, you actually probably wouldn’t know.”

Mr. Perkins’ eyes narrow in behind his round glasses and he reaches up, pushing them back against his nose and huffs. Dan feels a sigh of relief and his shoulders visibly relax but he can still see everyone’s eyes on him and Phil. But Phil is back to slouching over his notebook, and Dan can see his hand moving in such a way that he can tell Phil is writing down a bunch of notes for whatever they were just reading.

The bell rings and everyone begins to push their way out of the classroom, eager to get to their final class of the day and Dan would normally do the same. But he instead finds himself sitting back in his seat and waiting for Phil to get up. When Phil does, and he slings his messenger bag over his shoulder with the same worn handle that Dan sees thrown on the bleachers, he gets up as well and steps up to him.

“Thank you.” Dan says, his voice coming out a bit deep and weary. Maybe this wasn’t the best decision. He’d never spoken to Phil before and maybe this was overstepping now. But Phil did just save his ass.

“You don’t have to thank me.” Phil says. “It was an unfair question for someone who hasn’t read the book.”

Dan feels his face heat up a bit. Well, yeah, he hadn’t read the book. But why should that matter. “How did you know I didn’t read?”

Phil scoffed a bit and then his lips curled into a smirk. “Because the question was actually extremely obvious. Anyone with eyes or ears could have guessed it.”

Dan opens his mouth to defend himself but he knows he has nothing.

Phil leaves, weaving through the empty desks and out the door of the classroom. Dan watches him as the door shuts behind him and it leaves him a bit more intrigued than he already was when he saw Phil earlier in the library.

Hiking his backpack up on his shoulders, he walked out of the room as the last student and made it to his final class―music theory―just two minutes late...honestly that was probably its own record.

****

The meet went well, much better than Dan had actually thought it was going to go. He didn’t beat his record, but he came close once again so he was fine with that. He really was.

His coach gave him some helpful tips and even encouraged Dan to come in on the weekends to the school and swim some laps to gain some practice and Dan was considering taking him up on that offer.

Dan’s been looking to be recruited by a college for some time now to get a full scholarship for swim so he could go to college and continue the sport that he loved so much. But so far the college recruiters that have come to his school haven’t said anything to him and he was worried that maybe he never would.

He was determined to prove them wrong. He really was.

His coach told him that at their next home meet in two weeks, a recruiter from Western Valley University was going to be coming to the school and Dan wanted this shot more than anything. He really did.

So there came even more surprise when the following morning after the meet, he’s called into his coach’s office during his free period and he’s handed a slip of pink paper.

“What is this?” Dan asked, looking it over, unsure how to read it.

“You’re failing English, Dan.” His coach says, his expression sympathetic. “The school has a strict policy about being involved in a sport and failing a class.”

“Well what’s the policy then?” Dan asked.

He wasn’t expecting the worst. Maybe he would just have to stay after school later to catch up? Maybe he just had skip a few practices to go to a tutor instead. He honestly wasn’t even aware there was a policy on this to begin with.

“The school is not allowing you to participate in any practices or meets until your grade is above passing. Right now it’s sitting at a 55 and you need a 65 to pass.”

Dan felt his eyes grow a bit wide as he looked down at the slip that was signed by his school’s principal saying he, Daniel Howell, was excused from the Swim Team until his English grade got above a 65.

“So...what do I do?” Dan asked, his voice raising in volume. “The recruiter from WVU is coming here in two weeks? I have to swim in that meet! I have to!”

“But you’re failing a class, Dan.” His coach repeated. “The good thing is that you’re not way behind on your grade. I’m sure you could speak with Mr. Perkins and ask about any assignments you could do to get it above a 65.”

Dan reached his hands up and covered his eyes, rubbing his face. He couldn’t believe this. He was at the risk of screwing up his shot at being recruited by college all because he’s failing his stupid English class with Mr. Perkins.

He was so fucked...to put it lightly.

He walked out of coach’s office with his tail tucked between his legs and a permanent slump in his step. He felt sick. He felt defeated. And most of all, he felt stupid.

Dan knew he was smarter than this. He just didn’t think it had gotten that bad where he was actually failing one of his classes. He knew he was getting close to failing something but he honestly didn’t think it was English. He thought Mr. Perkins had his back.

His coach had told him to go and speak to Mr. Perkins so that’s where he found himself during his free period instead of at the library where he liked to borrow one of the laptops and listen to music.

He was sitting in front of Mr. Perkins desk as he looked at the computer screen and was scrolling down all of Dan’s missed or late assignments.

“Well, Mr. Howell, you’ve managed to either fail or just not turn in anything that was due this quarter. I’m honestly not sure how we can get your grade up to passing any time soon.”

Dan felt himself getting desperate. He needed to pass this class. He needed Mr. Perkins to give him some sort of redemption before these two weeks were over. “Is there anything at all you can do?” Dan asks. “I literally will do anything if it’ll get me a passing grade.”

“The only suggestion I can say is that you should look into getting a tutor.”

“Where can I find a tutor?” Dan asks.

“The one person that I could recommend going to for tutoring is Phil Lester. He’s the only person in my 15 years of teaching that has managed to get perfect scores on all of his assignments. You could learn a thing or two from him.”

Of course Phil was the smartest English kid in the class. That honestly made a lot of sense given his comment to Dan the day before and also all that he’s written about Dan in the past.

When he leaves Mr. Perkins classroom, he goes to the library in hopes of finding Phil to talk to him but Phil is nowhere to be seen. So Dan remains sitting alone until the bell rings and he heads off to lunch where he can sit with his friends PJ and Chris.

***

“So they’re actually not letting you do anything swim related?” PJ asks again as they all sit on the floor of his bedroom, playing a round of Mario Kart on his TV.

PJ wasn’t a member of the swim team or anything, neither was Chris, but Dan had developed a friendship with them since childhood when their parents took them to the same daycare center and it turned out they were neighbors.

“I’ve already explained this, Peej.” Dan says, feeling a bit annoyed. “Coach says I’m out until my grades get up.”

“That’s a bummer.” Chris chimes in. He’s not even playing with them, he’s just sitting in PJ’s beanbag chair drinking a coke.

“And on top of all of that,” Dan continues. “A recruit from WVU is going to be at my swim meet in two weeks and I might not even be able to swim. It’s like this entire world is out to get me.”

PJ paused the game and reached out, patting Dan’s arm with his hand in a sincere gesture. “I know how much it sucks, Dan. But I’m sure you can get your grades up if you’re having Lester tutor you.”

Chris snorted in the background and Dan turned his head to see what he was laughing about. “What?”

Chris looks up from his phone and shakes his head. “Oh nothing, just the fact that you’re getting tutored by Lester is quite hilarious.”

“Why are you guys calling him Lester?” Dan asks. “His name is Phil...but also, I’m not even sure he’s tutoring me yet. I couldn’t even find him at school today.”

“Probably because he’s off at a Literature Conference paid by the school.” PJ comments, starting up the game again. “He wrote a long piece about Shakespeare that I heard blew Perkins away and it was sent to a conference downstate so he could read it.”

Dan was truly fascinated by that. The fact that Phil was literally so coherent in Literature and English that he could write a paper that would get him to speak at a conference. Maybe Phil feels the same way about literature as Dan does about swim.

“But Lester’s a nerd.” Chris chimes in. “Like a straight up nerd.”

“And what does that matter?” Dan asks.

Chris shrugs and closes his lips, refusing to speak.

Dan continues to play Mario Kart with PJ until PJ throws the fabled blue shell at him and he’s suddenly in 5th place and clearly losing. He’s still got the events of the day playing back in his head and if he thinks too much about it, he feels ill.

He needs to find Phil as soon as he’s back in school and he needs to ask him to tutor him. He has to. His entire life was on the line all because of this English class and if he didn’t do something about it, his career in swim would be over.

***

Dan sees Phil in the library two days after his conversation with his coach. Phil is sat by himself at an empty table and his hand is moving quite fast across a piece of lined paper, leaving etchings of black behind. Dan finds himself fascinated as he watches Phil write. It feels similar to when he saw Phil for the first time freshman year and the way he was so eager to write about everything Dan had done at that meet.

Dan slid into the chair across from Phil, ignoring the way the black haired male looked up and gave Dan an odd face. Dan watched as Phil set his pen down on his notebook and it rolled a bit to the side before falling onto the table with a soft clatter.

“Do you need something?” Phil asks, his voice a bit timid.

“Yes, actually.” Dan begins. “You’re good at English, right?”

Phil nods slowly, his head barely moving. “I like English and I’d say I'm alright at it.”

Dan feels like Phil is being a bit cheeky but he doesn’t dwell on it. He wants to just ask the humiliating question and go on with his day. “Would you be willing to help me out a bit with English?”

Phil’s eyebrow cocked up a bit and he leaned back in his seat, his arms coming up to fold over his chest. “What did you need help with?”

“Well, I’m failing English…”

“That’s not shocking.”

“And I need to get my grade up in just two weeks which seems pretty impossible but a swim recruiter from Western Valley University will be here then and I need to be able to swim in the meet and I can’t swim in it while I’m failing a class.”

Dan takes in a long breath when he’s done speaking and lets it back out slowly. He hadn’t even taken a breath in that entire sentence and the way Phil’s eyes were slightly bugging out his head showed that.

“So you want me to help you out because you’re failing English?” Phil repeats, his words slow and enunciated.

Dan nods. “Yes! That’s exactly what I’m asking!”

Phil leans forward and places his elbows on the table. “Do you have a specific thing in mind to help you achieve this because, Dan, I’m not trying to sound rude or anything but you’re not exactly the smartest person when it comes to English.”

Dan rolls his eyes. “Thanks.”

Phil immediately put his hands up. “I didn’t mean it like that! What I meant was that it’s clear you don’t do nearly all of the work for the class so how do you expect to get a higher grade?”

Dan’s cheeks flushed and he let out another breath. “I know how bad it looks, I really do. But you don’t understand, Phil. This is my entire life on the line if I don’t impress this recruiter. I need to pass English so I can get back into the pool!”

Phil sighed and closed his notebook in front of him. “When did you want to do this?”

Dan’s eyes lit up and he immediately felt the nervous butterflies in his stomach because he was really going to do this! He was going to get a tutor and damn it, he was going to pass English.

“Since I don’t have practice right now thanks to the school, I can do really any day?” Dan says.

“We can start tomorrow night. Meet me at the public library at 4:30?”

Public library? Dan felt a bit dumb but he wasn’t even aware that they had one.

“You don’t know where that is, do you?” Phil asks, a laugh breaking through his voice as his words tapered off. “Okay, you can just come over to my place then. My mom will be home but I promise she’s nice.”

Dan nodded and smiled at Phil. “Sounds good. Let’s exchange numbers and you can text me your address?”

Phil pulled out his phone and Dan pulled out his and they both wrote their numbers into each others contacts before Phil pushed his phone back away and reopened his notebook.

“How did your conference go?”

Dan doesn’t know why those words came out of his mouth but they did.

“The conference?” Phil asks. “Oh. It went well.”

Dan nodded awkwardly. Was he supposed to say something more? Should he even try and continue the conversation? He wasn’t sure but Phil had gone back to writing something in his notebook so Dan stood up from the chair and walked to his normal area of the library.

He spent the rest of his time there trying to finish his other really overdue homework from math and biology. At least he did a bit better at those than English and he didn’t have to try quite as hard.

When the bell rang for the next period to begin, he slowly packed up his things and walked out of the library, shuffling his feet to, coincidentally, English class. He wasn’t looking forward to it.

***

Dan arrives to the address that Phil sent him that he had put into his GPS in his car. He wasn’t sure if this was exactly where he should be because sometimes GPSs screw up so he was holding his breath about going up to the door and knocking.

Phil had told him that he’ll probably be upstairs in his room and won’t know if he’s arrived but his mom will answer the door for them. It looks like a cute little two story white house with a fence around the outside. The driveway is lined with beautiful flowers and stones but Dan opted to park on the street just in case.

He texted Phil a few minutes ago to tell him he was here but he hadn’t gotten a response yet so he figures he needs to just suck it up and go to the door. If he’s at the wrong house, he’ll just politely―and awkwardly―apologize and move on, punching in the address again to try once more.

Dan opens the door to his car and gets out, walking to the back to grab his backpack that he filled with miscellaneous crap that he judged to be English related. To be quite frank, he wasn’t quite sure what he even needed for the class and he found himself scratching his head in his bedroom trying to figure it out.

He locked his car and walked slowly to the house, up the small walkway, to the porch and up to the front door. He stands for a few minutes and then takes a deep breath and knocks against the glass.

It only takes a few moments before someone is shuffled on the other side and the door is opening. A smallish older woman is standing on the other side, her hands drying in a dish towel. She’s wearing glasses and her hair is cut neatly into a bob.

And if Dan wasn’t convinced his eyes were playing tricks on him, he would say this definitely looked like she could be Phil’s mom. 100%.

“Hi. I’m here to meet with Phil?” He said, forcing a smile on his lips.

Her face perked up and her lips curled into a big grin. “Oh! Phil! Yes, are you one of his friends?”

Dan shakes his head. “No, he’s tutoring me in English.”

His mom, which Dan was now convinced of that, rose her hands and clapped the air. “Oh, how amazing! My Phil never has people over, not even to tutor them. This is so exciting. Do you want a drink? I was just doing the dishes but I can mix up some Kool-Aid. Or do you want food? We just got done eating but leftovers are always available in our hours.”

Dan stood completely in awe over everything she was saying. He’s only just knocked on the door and she was already offering him a cold drink and a warm meal. He felt a pit of warmth in his gut because that’s the nicest thing that someone has offered him a while.

“Oh, no thank you.” He says.

She nods, her face still sporting a smile. “Oh, that’s alright, dear. But the offer still stands as long as you’re here.” She steps aside and opens the door wider. “Phil is up in his room. It’s just up the stairs on the right. He likes to keep his door shut and listen to music so you may have to knock a few times to get him to hear you.”

Dan nods and walks inside, sending a quick thank you over his shoulder and he ascended the stairs and put to the where Phil’s room would be. He had a sign on his door that said Phil’s room and Dan chuckled a bit at seeing it. But he lifted his hand and knocked on the door and a loud shout of ‘Come in!’ came from the other side.

Dan slowly opens the door and sees Phil sitting at a desk in the corner of his room, his laptop open in front of him and a splay of notebooks scattered around his body. It looks  just like he works at the library, just in his own bedroom.

“Your mom let me in.”

Phil turned around and laughed. “I told you she would.”

“She also offered me dinner and a drink.”

Phil chuckled a bit more. “Once again, that’s my typical mom.”

“She’s nice.” Dan says.

Phil just nods and there is an awkward silence yet again between them like there always is after a few moments. Dan doesn’t know why it happens, but he can always feel it because it feels like a rubber string pulled tight, ready to snap.

“So, uh…your work!” Phil said, changing the subject. “I talked to Mr. Perkins and he told me every assignment he wants you to complete and I have a list of them so why don’t we work down the list and just see what we can do?”

Dan nods quickly and looks around Phil’s room, feeling awkward standing up while Phil is spinning in his desk chair. “Do you want me to sit…?”

“Oh!” Phil says, his cheeks flushing. “We can sit on my bed if that makes it easier? We can spread everything out that way too.”

Dan nods and takes a seat on Phil’s bed. He toes off his sneakers and then pushes them to the side and slides back onto the bed, crossing his legs. He opens his backpack and begins to unpack it when Phil suddenly groans and Dan looks up.

“You don’t even have the correct books.” Phil remarks. “These aren’t even from this year. They’re from, I’m pretty sure, middle school.”

Dan looked at the array of books around him and felt embarrassment flush in his stomach. He knew he wasn’t going to have the correct things and now, this made him look ever worse.

“But that’s fine.” Phil continues. “We’re learning and that’s fine. I’ll just grab my own books and we can use mine. Right now, we’re going to be doing an assignment on Richard III from Shakespeare that was due in October.”

Dan cringed a bit considering it was breaching into December now and he hadn’t done any of the assignments obviously.

Phil stood up from the bed and walked over to his desk, pushing some books aside before grabbing the books they needed and sitting down.

Dan doesn’t know how long they worked on assignments but when they had only one assignment down and Phil’s mom was calling upstairs to ask Dan is he was spending the night, he suddenly realized how bad the situation was and how clueless he really is.

He was never going to do this. What was he kidding?

Dan let out a defeated sigh and closed his notebook and shoved his ‘wrong’ books into his bag. Phil stared at him and when Dan looked up, he felt the inclination to snap at Phil and to get irrationally mad that Phil get’s this and he clearly doesn’t.

“We’ll get there, Dan.” Phil says, his hand coming out and resting on Dan’s arm in a comforting gesture. “English isn’t easy but we did complete one of the assignments and it’s definitely passable. So just turn it in tomorrow and we’ll work on the rest this week.”

Dan nods and lets out a forced smiled before he gathered all of his things, pushed his shoes back on, and hiked his bag onto his back. He said goodbye to Phil and then he went downstairs and saw Phil’s parents sat on the living room couch enjoying a movie.

He said goodbye to them and Kath offered him some cookies to take back but he refused and thanked her anyway.

When he got into his car, he chucked his bag into the backseat and frustrated tears began to prick his eyes. He furiously wiped them away as he turned his car on and his headlights turned into just flared smudges. He sniffled and let out a sigh as he wiped the final moisture from his face and drove home.

***

Mr. Perkins does in fact deem his assignment passable and Dan’s also lucky that all of his assignments following were seen the same way. When he tells Phil the news, Phil cockily says, “Of course they’re passable. I’m the one who helped you.”

Dan just laughs and shoves it off despite the blush on both of their cheeks.

Dan also had a meeting with his coach to tell him the good news on his progress and his coach is over the moon about it, which makes Dan really begin to feel confident again about this working. He was actually going to pass English and be able to swim in the meet and show the recruiter what he can do!

Against the schools rules, Dan trains every day with his coach and his team. He knows he shouldn’t be but his coach also knows how important it is that Dan remains in his peak condition like how he was prior to all of this happening.

All while Dan is busy training and preparing for that long awaited meet and the recruiter for Western Valley, Dan also finds himself understanding English just a bit more.

He and Phil hadn’t done any more tutoring at Phil’s house, instead, Phil opted to do some tutoring in the library during both of their free periods. He was learning more and more each day but that didn’t help him when he was stressing out about the date for the recruiter fast approaching.

It also didn’t help that Dan was beginning to look at Phil a bit differently. He didn’t know when it started or when he noticed he was doing it. He just realized one day during tutoring that he was so focused on Phil’s bright blue eyes that he hadn’t even listened to a single thing he said. He had been too  flustered to ask Phil to repeat everything he had said so he just put on a face like he did listen and they moved on.

But that couldn’t continue, not when Dan is noticing how beautiful Phil’s eyes are or how soft his voice is. Dan has even picked up that if Phil laughs hard enough, his tongue pokes out between his teeth and Dan doesn’t know why, but he finds that so damn endearing.

Or maybe he first notices it when that same day, he goes over to Phil’s house after practice and he finds himself doing the same thing. He finds himself only staring at Phil’s eyes as he’s skimming through a passage of To Kill a Mockingbird when he should be paying attention.

And Phil picks up on that really fast.

“See something you like?” He asks.

Dan feels his cheeks flush and he quickly shakes his head. “You wish.”

Phil smiles. “It’s okay if you find me adorable, Dan. It’s actually quite flattering.”

Dan huffs and Phil lets out a laugh.

They don’t mention the interaction again while Phil is helping him, but there is a noticeable tension in the air from that point forward that leaves little to the imagination and also sends Dan into a bit of a sexuality crisis.

Prior to noticing how he’s beginning to feel towards Phil, he had only had feelings for females…or so he thought. He found that he was always attracted to women and he never really bat an eye towards a guy. Of course, sometimes he did look at a guy and think they were cute but most of the time, he found that to not even be a big deal. Didn’t everyone do that?

Except now, he’s questioning a lot and it was beginning to weigh a bit heavy on his mind. Every time he met with Phil, his sexuality hung on a thin string in his head and he tried his best to push any thoughts about but eventually, he came to the conclusion that maybe, just maybe, he was getting a crush on Phil beyond his control.

As the tutoring session continues, his grade continues to rise until suddenly, Mr. Perkins tells him that he has only one final assignment left and it’s a big project he has to do about two of the books they have read for the class…emphasis on ‘read’ in Dan’s case.

He spends his time with Phil at his house working on the project and Phil helps him understand each book every step of the way. The project was to do a massive powerpoint comparison of the two books and then show the major themes and plot points from each. Dan found that that was easy with Phil guiding him through it.

It was nearly 3 in the morning the night before Mr. Perkins wanted it when Dan and Phil clicked save on the Powerpoint for the final time and both smiled in harmony over having it done.

Dan was exhausted, mentally and physically and on top of that, they had to be up for school in just four hours. Phil noticed this too and said the one phrase that had Dan’s heart leaping out of his skin.

“Did you want to stay here tonight?”

Dan nodded, his eyes hardly opening and he and Phil fell asleep on Phil’s floor just like that. It was nothing romantic and nothing like Dan would have thought but Dan still found his heart beating fast when Phil’s mom yelled to them in the morning to wake up for school.

Dan drove both him and Phil to school that morning and as soon as they got to the building, they rushed to Mr. Perkins classroom and busted the door open. They tore through the room and Dan slapped the flash drive onto his desk with a shit-eating grin.

“My final assignment is on that thumb drive.” Dan says, a bit out of breath.

Mr. Perkins nods and pushes his glasses back onto his nose like he’s serious and takes the thumb nail in his hand. He pushes it into his computer and loads the powerpoint and looks it over. When he’s done, he clicks out of it and Dan waits with bated breath as he turns to Dan and says slowly. “This assignment looks great, Mr. Howell. I’ll happily sign your form saying you’ve passed English now.”

Without even thinking, Dan turned to Phil and pulled him into a tight hug. Phil’s arms came up around him and for a moment, Dan felt his heart beating fast and Phil’s arms shake a bit.

Their embrace was not something that was planned, nor expected. And it threw them both a bit off despite Dan being so damn happy. He pulled back and cleared his throat and Phil’s face was flushed a deep red.

They both looked at each other before Dan opens his mouth and says. “Thank you. Thank you for helping me and never giving up on me and making it so I passed. You do not know how much that means to me that I now can spend the next few days training to impress the recruiter.”

Phil nodded and his lips broke out into a big smile. “You’re welcome, Dan. I’ll always be around to help you and cheer you on.”

Dan felt a warmth spread in his stomach with Phil’s words and they shared a quick glance before walking out together from Mr. Perkins room and dispersing their own ways.

***

Two days later on a Friday is Dan’s swim meet and his body is buzzing with nerves and anxiety. He’s swam his race a few different times in preparation and he was right on track for beating the record that he wanted to beat and he was ready for it to begin.

He was introduced to the recruiter, who was a middle aged man named Don, and he promptly shook hands with him and introduced himself. He spoke with Don for a few moments before he was called over by the coach that their meet was beginning.

After watching his school and teammates crush their competitors in every race, it was finally time for him to do his own. His signature butterfly where he was going to beat his record and he was determined to impress the recruiter.

He stood on the board and waited until they blew the first whistle and he bent down, taking his stance. He waited for the second whistle blow and then launched himself into the water and swam.

He had to do 5 laps but he knew he could do it. He was feeling energized and ready for anything given the last few weeks he had just went through. He finishes the first lap, and then the second, and the third, fourth, and fifth and he taps the mat at the end to be done and when he lifts his head up, everyone is cheering and the bleachers are being pounded and he turns around and looks at the board and sees his time.

He’s absolutely destroyed his record time he set as a freshman and happy tears well in his eyes as everyone else cheers for him. He gets out of the pool and shares some moments with his teammates before his coach walks over and hugs him. It’s the first time his coach as ever hugged him but he’ll take it since he knows how proud his coach is of him.

He sits the rest of the meet out and watches his team win in the end like he knew they would have. Dan takes a few photos with the sports broadcaster from the local newspaper and then he makes his way over to the familiar black haired male he’s seen enough in his last few weeks.

Phil is busy writing down some more notes in his scraggly notebook and Dan smiles down at him. “Going to write another article on me?”

Phil looks up and blushes. “I’ve been covering you since we were freshman.”

“I know.” Dan says. “I’ve read everything you’ve written.”

“You have?” Phil asks and Dan nods.

Dan opens his mouth to speak again when a hand is on his shoulder and he’s being turned around. Don is stood there, his hand extended out in a handshake and Dan firmly takes it and shakes it.

“Congratulations, Dan.” He begins. “I know what I just saw here is definitely WVU material and I know I would be honored to have you at WVU. But I’ll need to run it by our college board and you’ll hear from us in a few days.”

Dan feels himself shake and his lips curl into a smile that he cannot stop. He nods quickly and immediately says. “Thank you so much! I’ll look forward to hearing from you!”

Don leaves and gathers his things and Dan turns around to Phil writing some more in his notebook. “Phil, I cannot thank you enough now. Without you helping me in English, I never would have done any of this tonight and it really means a lot to me.”

“It’s no problem.” Phil says. “I knew how much swim meant to you after covering you for so long and I know you really wanted to be recruited by WVU. Congratulations.”

Phil sticks his hand out for a handshake too but Dan ignores it and pulls him into another hug. This time, it was less awkward and less fueled by emotions and more fueled by just kindness and appreciation. Phil returns the hug easily and when they break off, Dan smiles at him and blushes and Phil blushes back.

After Phil leaves, Dan meets back up with his team and they all go out for dinner that night to celebrate the big achievements.

***

“Western Valley University is pleased to announce that we would love to have you on our swim team for the 2019-2020 school year and all years following, albeit with good academic standing. Your academic transcript and your sports involvement is what WVU is looking for. If you decide to accept our invitation, your tuition will be paid in full for each school year that you remain on the team.

You are now welcome to visit our pool and aquatics center whenever needed and contact Don Everson to begin your formal preparation.

If you are accepting our invitation, you need to submit a $250 deposit in the form of a check to the WVU Admissions office no later than February 1st.

Congratulations,

WVU Admissions Office and Office of Sports Inclusion”

When Dan sees the email a week after the meet, he cries. He’s not even ashamed to say he cries but he does because this all he ever wanted and he’s finally getting it. He lets himself reread the email over and over again and he even texts screenshots of it to PJ and Chris.

He then goes down to his mom and dad and tells them the good news and they all hug him and kiss and shower him with affection and they take him out to a fancy dinner downtown. Dan’s never felt this before and he’s so damn happy he cannot contain it.

When he gets home from the celebrations and he’s laying in bed, he finds himself realizing that he had one more person he wanted to text the news to: Phil. He’d spoken to Phil a bit more since the meet but Phil has been a bit distant and a bit more stressed than Dan’s seen him recently. So in all honesty, Dan’s kind of been avoiding him.

But Dan wants to tell him the good news so he does.

Dan: WVU is giving me a full ride

Phil: Dan that’s amazing!! congrats

Dan smiled proudly and read over the text a few more times. He suddenly wanted to see Phil and talk with him in person. He felt like maybe Phil would be the best person for him to talk to about this since both PJ and Chris weren’t attending college and he had a feeling that Phil was.

Dan: can we meet up?

Phil: where?

Dan: your house?

Phil: sure

Dan drives to Phil’s house and when he arrives there, Phil answers the door in a pair of emoji pajamas and a baggy Friends shirt. Dan is about to say something about them but instead, he walks inside and is greeted by Phil’s mom opening her arms for a hug.

“Phil told me the great news! I’m so happy for you, dear! Phil got a good scholarship too and I’m glad you both are going on to do such great things.”

Dan doesn’t question her about Phil’s supposed scholarship but it sits heavy in his mind. He does laugh though at the way Phil’s groans and lets out a dragged out ‘mom’ before his mom hushes him with a hand wave.

They head upstairs to Phil’s room and they both take a seat on Phil’s bed before either of them speak.

“So you got a good scholarship too?” Dan asks.

Phil nods. “Yeah.”

“What is it?”

Phil looks at him. “It’ll make me look like a pretentious dick when you find out.”

Dan shakes his head. “No, it won’t.”

“Remember how I went to that conference about a month ago?” Dan nods because that’s how he knew Phil was the real deal with English. “It was a conference hosted by Oxford University in England and they asked me to study at their uni and they’re giving me a full ride to Christchurch.”

Dan looks at Phil and his mouth drops open. Dan wasn’t that smart when it came to colleges but he knew Oxford was a big deal. “Phil, that’s amazing! That’s such an amazing opportunity!”

“Well, yeah.” Phil says. “And I’d be stupid not to take it so I am but it doesn’t help that I don’t know what I want to do with my life.”

“To be fair, I don’t either.” Dan chimes in.

“Yeah, but you have swim to fall back on and honestly, I was comparing your times in my article and you’re close to beating Michael Phelps and you could be an Olympian. What am I going to fall back on?”

Dan shakes his head incredulously. “You have English. Look at how smart you are. You could literally do anything or write anything and it would literally become the next Hemingway.”

“Thank you.” Phil says, his voice shaking a bit. “I’ve never been told that before.”

“Phil, I’ve read everything you’ve written about me and I’ve seen all that you can do when you tutor me. You’re incredible, literally, in every way.”

Dan doesn’t know where all of this is coming from but suddenly, he has the overwhelming urge to put his hand on Phil’s cheek and hold him close…and maybe even kiss him?

Phil swallows and looks down at his feet. “Can I tell you something that I’m probably going to regret later?”

Dan wrinkles his forehead but nods anyway and Phil lets out a long sigh.

“The only reason I began writing was because I wanted to join the newspaper so I could cover sports and cover you because I’ve had a crush on your since we were 10.”

Dan looks at Phil and lets out little noise before he decides now is the time to do what he was just thinking about he leans down and brushes their lips together. It’s awkward and their teeth clash a bit but when they get it right, their lips lock and Phil whimpers.

Dan pulls back and catches his breath. “I’m 90% sure I’ve had a crush on you since you began to write on me but honestly, tutoring with you was so damn hard when I started noticing how beautiful you are.”

Phil’s cheeks flush even deeper and he lets out a laugh. “These last few weeks have been something else, haven’t they?”

Dan nods and laughs too because they really have.

He went from being a prime swimmer to failing English and nearly losing everything. But now, he’s passing English and has a cute guy to keep him on his toes and he’s going to a great college on a full ride scholarship where he continue to do what he loves.

Dan leans down and he and Phil kiss one more time before Dan pulls back and they both smile at each other.

The future may still be a bit rocky but at least they know right now what they both want.

[imhereformysciencefriends]

Day 7: New Life

@gamzeeweek

They set the mug down delicately upon the doily, and leaned back while crossing their legs.

“Again,” they ordered calmly.

“Again, honored one? What do you mean?”

“I mean start it all over. There were some salvageable moments, some decent parts, but honestly? Just scrap the whole thing. Do it all over, from the top.”

“From the—the beginning, honored one? All the way?”

“All the way.”

“But, honored one, that—”

“I know what I’m doing,” they said calmly, taking another sip of their tea. “Now. One more time, with feeling.”

—

You are a wriggler, and you are so, so, so full of love. This screechy ass troll as is ten times your size is your favorite person, ever, in the whole world, and you are going to Climb On Him. He is your best friend, the best ever, you love him so much—

And then it is time for you to go through the portal onto the meteor which crash lands down onto Alternia, and while you don’t know it because you are just a wriggler, the meteor is made of hyper-cushioning materials that prevented you from what would surely otherwise be a disastrous demise. You are at the fringes of the brooding caverns, far from the mouth where wrigglers as went through The Trials emerge to find loving custodians. You are found by a seagoat, who didn’t really want a wriggler, but had to go near-ish the caverns anyway, because of biology. You, of course, do not know this. You just know that this is your lusus, and you love him more than anything else in the entirety of everything ever.

“No, no, that’s no good. Move the meteor so it lands there.”

“Honored one, the adult jadebloods…”

“I know, but we need to take a calculated risk here. Have the meteor land there.”

You go through the portal onto the meteor which crash lands down onto Alternia, and while you don’t know it because you are just a wriggler, the meteor is made of hyper-cushioning materials that prevented you from what would surely otherwise be a disastrous demise. You are just outside the mouth of the brooding caverns, the impact of your landing shaking the caves below. But you do not care, because you are a wriggler. You squeal happily when a tidegoat mouths at the tuft of hair growing between your horns. You chirr happily up at him, and crawl onto his back. You are happy, because you know that this is your lusus, and you love him more than anything else in the entirety of everything ever.

What you do not know, because you are still very new you see, is that a tidegoat is similar to a seagoat in the same way that rabbits are similar to hares. While, outwardly, they look very much alike, with only a difference in size, a seagoat, like a hare, is actually far more terrifying and emotionally unavailable than its smaller counterpart. They are also genetically incompatible. Who knew? Not you. You’re just a little baby.

Tidegoatdad takes very good care of you, showing you how to wade in the tidepools and how to hold a sea urchin without hurting yourself or it, showing you the good places to look for shells and making sure you’re always inside by sunrise. He feeds you seaweed and fish and occasional squirrel, and makes you do your schoolfeeds while he sleeps curled up round your back like Alternia’s most comfortable couch. Sometimes he’ll let you bodypaint on that pretty white fur and flubber of his, even though it always washes off when you two go play in the brine and waves later.

You make a friend with this neat sea-sis, a bright eyed, sharp toothed sister as can’t go much farther than your shore. Her lusus don’t like it none when she strays too far, and you understand. Tidegoatdad can breathe down your neck a little too. But that’s okay, because he’s your lusus, and you know he only does it because he loves you so very motherfucking much. You and fishsis all up and get your friendship on, and she drags her moirail out to meet you too.

That brother is a motherfucking piece of work. Even with the two of you at him, he is still so reluctant to make strides towards being a nicer person. You can’t even imagine what he’d turn out without the both of you, there to keep him in check and in friendship. You do not know that you ain’t supposed to like them. That clowns and fish don’t get along. You are a clown and they are your friends, and you keep ‘em close to your pusher always.

You meet a sweet boy online as does steal your heart, and then break it also. You keep friendship, though, after. His friendship means more to you than his heart ever could, and the two of you spit fire and rhythm as is good and right. You meet a harsh boy as does rankle his hackles at every motherfucking thing, and although you ain’t subtle for shit, he don’t ever seem to notice how you drip diamonds whenever you speak to him.

You’re awful excited to meet them in person. A wicked smart brother and sister of yours are making this game that is supposed to let you meet them and you are all kinds of holy motherfucking gleeful.

—

“See, isn’t this better?”

“It is, honored one. It really, really is. But, I worry, honored one; the plot…”

“Will sort itself out. Keep watching.”

—

The game is more fun than you thought it’d be. It’s definitely upsetting when your lusus dies, that one you didn’t stop crying on until Karkat did come to the Land of Tents and Mirth and talk you down from it. But other than that, it’s fun. You’re on a different team from Feferi and Eridan, except it turns out not really, you were all teammates all along! You think that is a very nice prank for the universe to pull on you. You are on a team with Karkat and Tavros, right from the start, and that is very fun and excellent.

You guess it’s also kind of a bummer that the world ended. But, eh, nothing’s permanent.

Now you’re chilling on this wicked ass motherfucking meteor with all your good friends (and some friends as aren’t too good, just yet, but you look forward to being better friends (and that one chica as scares you something terrible)). A pink-skinned motherfucker as your sniffsis has been up and motherfucking obsessed with lately sends you a link to some motherfuckin’ music video, and as near as you can tell, he’s making mockery of your religion?

You ain’t got super close ties to the mirthful churchful. Especially now, since the world ended. Still, it makes you kinda pissed off that this brother would send you something with sole intention of upsetting you. It worked; you are upset. So you take a walk to clear your head, even though your best bro did tell everyone to stay where he could keep eyes on them. He’s busy trolling… someone, though, and it ain’t like you’re going to get into trouble.

You meander, opening chests here or there as you pass. One has this fugly ass puppet in it. Maybe if you were actually upset, instead of just a lil pissy, you would take this motherfucking comfort item and hold it, and look in its eyes because you want the plush, cottony comfort of something vaguely trolloid, but you aren’t, so you don’t. You just chuck it in your sylladex and forget about it on a colorful capcha card you ain’t ever going to open again. Staring at the pretty colors does calm you down some. You’re thinking clear, again, and meander with a lil kick in your step.

—

“See, honored one? He’s deviating from the plot.”

“Yes,” they said, delightedly pulling a rice cracker from the sleeve. “And thus, creating a new one.”

—

You lose the kick in your step when you encounter upon a collection of cliffs in the meteor. Where you are stands tall above some other pathway, where your sweet motherfuckin’ Tavbro and that bitch as scares you so badly are. She’s mocking him with his severed legs. The legs she did paralyze in the first place. They’re going to fight.

You—

“Give him a little nudge. Just a little one. Gamzee tends to lock up in high adrenaline situations, I don’t want him to be inactive for this.”

“Yes, honored one.”

—move. Your body going seeming without your brain’s consent, at first, but once the first step is made forward, the rest follow natural as blood flowing in your veins.

You drop down from the height, one club grasped in two fronds, and you

take

her

head

clear

off.

She would’ve killed him. She’d had his lance in her hand poised and aimed at his chest. Half a second, less, and she would’ve pierced the bloodpump as you hold as precious and dear as you do. She would’ve killed him.

It don’t make what you did any better.

The tears come immediate, panic following.

You killed her.

You killed her.

You took your club and laid it in the head of a sister whose name you knew! You killed her!

You grasp and tear at your hair, shrieking, wailing. You didn’t mean to, you—god, oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god oh god!

The guilt wells up alongside the panic and you are blind to all else, seeing only blue, blue, blue, and your own bile. You killed her! How could you do that! Her blood is on your hands, on your club, in your hair, soaking into the knees of your pants where you kneel and keen high and distressed through your gurgling tears. You do not know where you are going when Tavros lifts you to your feet with his strong and gentle hands, you do not know where he leads you. Your pan is full of only guilty panic, and the color blue. You follow where he leads.

He leads you to Karkat, back in the common room, who you rush to in the need of a diamond returned. You are sobbing and aching and panicked and vulnerable, and you need him, you need him, you need him to be gentle with you, to gentle you down, you have never needed him more in your life.

It will strike you, later, that that is exactly the kind of romantic bullshit that Karkat motherfucking thrives on.

Eridan, Sollux, and Feferi stop whatever conversation it is that they are having to stare in painful awkwardness at you, which you do not make no notice of, and Kanaya ushers them all to the warp pad out the common room, which you also don’t notice but thank her later for doing. Karkat sits you down in the chair he’d been ignoring for favor of standing to rant on his keyboard, and sits backwards in a chair of his own, right in front of you. He’s got his palms on your cheeks and a crooning shoosh on his lips and he’s got you, he’s got you, you’re going to be okay. He shushes you down and gets the story out of you in sobbing parts. How you hadn’t wanted to. How you’d just acted, angry and protective and somehow all rolled up numb, and how you hadn’t been thinking at all until after the deed itself. He asks if it’s kind of like what you did with the Black King, and you guess, kind of. You hadn’t wanted to kill anybody. Hell, you don’t never want to hurt anybody, much less kill. Karkat knows. He knows, and tells you that this ain’t your fault. Vriska was the one trying to kill Tavros, you were just acting in kind. It’s okay.

Terezi interrupts you, one point. On the trail of something or other, she has that look about her when she’s playing investigator-detective and is on the hunt. Don’t say nothing, though, just takes a picture of you and Karkat, hands on teary cheeks, and leaves with a bright cackle.

You stay with Karkat some while after, and when you ask for a hug he gives you one.

Then your phones buzz and Feferi wants you all to come up to the roof. Some sort of excitement is happening with the horrorterrors out in that far off ring, and there’s something to do with the humans?

Nepeta congratulates you immediately on your new diamond when you get there, looking all atwitter. You think it is real motherfuckin’ miraculous of your sister to know all these things about you without your even telling her, like woah. It just happened. Karkat tells you that the two of you are still holding hands, and then Nepeta tells you that Terezi sent her a photo. You are happy to realize that you are, in motherfucking fact, still holding hands with your best beloved, even as he starts screeching at your sisters who do make to laugh at him, while Equius stares on all uncomfortable and sweaty. He offers his congratulations too, stiff and awkward as that brother is always getting to be, and you smile at him a gratitude for his thoughts.

Tavros is near the lip of the roof, staring out into the vastness and the darkness. You want to go to him, but want to let go of Karkat’s hand less, so you stay put.

When the green sun shows up, and three siblings with it, you are well and truly motherfucking dazzled.

Tavros is there to greet Aradia when she returns to life, and you can taste their joy at their reunion. Dave and Rose, them human fuckers, are here too now, which, sick. You have no idea how that happened, but shit if you ain’t excited about it. More friends.

You lose track of happenings real motherfuckin’ quick after that. A green portal opens and a bucket flies through and hits Karkat straight in the horn, and then a whole bunch of people do a whole bunch of things to make the portal bigger and also faster(??), and then there’s a giant ass golden ship flying alongside the meteor as is moving very quickly, and two more human motherfuckers as can come be friends, plus their human Lands of whatevers and whatevers, so you will be able to play around in them and get grist and fraymotifs and shit so long as Jadesis is up and willing to shrinkify you, and you are very unaware of so many things as happened to make this your reality but you are well and truly happy for it.

Seems to you that everything is going to work out just fine.

—

“This… is really good…”

“Yes,” they said proudly, “yes it is.”

“But, honored one, I’m still confused. With Gamzee, you know, happy, how will the circle complete?”

“That circle was stupid anyway,” they said with a wave of their hand. “We’ll simply close another circle instead.”

“Yes, honored one, but how?”

They shrugged. “We shall have to see, won’t we?”

—

The three human years on the meteor go by in a rush of memories that are both happy and not. Life be like that. You are good friends with all gathered there, by the end of it. Dating five boys in a set of full quadrants and chilling with Feferi as you always used to do, on the beach. Aradia, who Sollux and Tavros and Terezi did convince to stay, likes to braid your hair and take you on adventures through the Lands, John is a hilarious motherfucker and Jade is a sweetheart. You improve on fighting by battling imps, learn new fun things to cook, play board games and FLARP without the fatal part and make piles of horns and pillows and empty soda bottles wherever you do please to.

You also, though, get a visit from a different you. An older you. A you with scars you don’t recognize, and Aradia’s music boxes in his hands.

He tells you that there is a task you must do. And you can do it now, or you can do it later, but you gotta do it. You’ll come back right to this time, when you’re done, Aradia’s music boxes won’t fail you, and then you’ll give them back to him and he’ll go back when he’s from.

So you take them, and do as he tells you he did.

You go to an egg all spiral-colored, watch it hatch and cradle the snake as slithers out.

Cherubs grow fast, you learn. Way, way faster than trolls and humans. It ain’t gradual. It’s sorta… all at once, and then nothing for a while, and then spurt! All at once again. You only get to cradle a baby for a few perigees, most. The child is a little longer, but you’re not there for even a full two sweeps before they surge up into adolescence, which will apparently last many sweeps after this.

You set up the two computers while Callie is awake, and ensure she is and always will be in contact with her friends, the neon colored motherfuckers as you haven’t met yet. You also get her contact with your future self, so she won’t be so lonely and fatherless as you would hate to leave her. But you’re not even an adult yourself, and you wonder at why the universe makes you do this while you are so young.

Caliborn claws you up when you tell him it’s time for you to leave, and you do not give him your future self’s contact. If your future self wants to talk to him, he can come here and update Caliborn’s computer his own motherfucking self.

You do love him, though. Bratty as he may be.

Just… you’ll love him more in memory.

You leave, just out of their reach, the keys that your older self gave to you when he handed you the music boxes. You dunno what they’re for, but whichever one of them leaves this place will have something to do with them, you think?

You hug Callie one last time, and head out.

Back on the meteor, you are so, so, so happy to see your friends again. To them, you weren’t even gone a whole hour, but you have not seen them in some sweeps and you have missed them terribly. But this is your role, you guess, like seeing dead bodies is Dave’s, or wrecking reality is Rose’s, or being really cool is Terezi’s.

You don’t let Karkat go for a motherfucking week, purrbox up and running the whole while.

When you do arrive in the new session, everything goes sideways so fast you’d be real motherfuckin impressed if you weren’t one of the things going sideways. Still, between the… how many of you are there? 18? 19? Somewhere ‘round 20 of you, you get it figured out. You don’t wanna really fight any bosses, so you get to chill with the Mayor, who you are all in pretty collective agreement is the best, and Callie! Who’s here! And wearing a ring she got from Roxy, who is a very nice girl who you approve of very much! You hug Callie very tightly and she tells you how much she’s missed you. You’ve missed her too, for all it hasn’t even been a perigee on your end, and the three of you sit and chat (mostly, Callie tells you about her life since you’ve left, and you listen). You’re there when the Mayor’s girlfriend arrives, and she is a very scary lady who you respect a lot.

A lot of things happen all at once, shortly thereafter. All the bosses are defeated, and a lot of people are fraymotifing, and then Feferi and Terezi bring Vriska back to life, and Terezi punches her straight in the face and shouts some seriously pitch black inches at her, and Vriska… changed, when she died. She apologizes and everything, swears to be better, for Terezi, for everyone, and you do not know what is going on there, but hey, if killing her was what it took for her to be a good person, then, you guess you’re almost glad you did…?

That one guilt had been the single worst part of all these last three years, for you. Something as haunted you eternal, no matter how much you jammed with Karkat about it, no matter how all your friends forgave you of it. But to see that in the end, it was for the best, well. You are finally able to let that go.

There are many people on the lily pad. You are one. And you, collectively, have won.

You go through the door, and you obtain your happy ending.

—

“....”

“Dear, are you crying?” they asked gently.

“Yes, honored one. I, I’m just, so happy. He deserves this. They all do.”

“They do,” they agreed, smiling warmly. “Now, how about a soft epilogue?”

—

You’ve been god of this new universe for two sweeps, or four years. Aradia does a lot of time shenanigans, while Dave don’t touch time shit no more. Kanaya likes to meddle and fuss with the past, with the Mayor’s help, and a democratic, socialist society rises up with their efforts and everyone all lives together in joy and happiness. Sometimes people try to sorta… fence themselves off by species, but that is a very dumb and silly thing to try and do, and it never actually keeps at that way for longer than a year or sweep.

You are happily retired from all fighting and magic Rage bullshit, and spend your days happily with your quads and daughter, who is now the same age as you, pretty much. Callie hands you the keys you left her brother and her, at one point, and you borrow Aradia’s boxes and head back to your younger self, since you gotta complete that circle, and a bunch of other circles that you had no idea you actually played a part in. Apparently you’re a pretty involved dude, for all you feel you don’t do a terrible lot. Lots of moving pieces out of your awareness. But that’s fine, that you’re just a domino in a line, you’re happy to be, because what you do sparks a deep joy in you, and you can’t imagine your life going any different from how it’s going now. When you return to your time and retirement, you’re happy to see past!Callie as a contact, and strike up correspondence with your daughter who isn’t the same age as you.

Rose starts up talk with John on going back in time and fighting Lord English when he is young—

“Mm, yes, this is exactly the sort of nonsense that simply will not fly. John doesn’t have retcon powers since there was nothing to retcon, which means the house juju has been successfully removed from the narrative. We cannot be having this.”

‘Yes, honored one. Oh, how about this?”

—and a little protective curl of Rage flickers up in the part of your soul that is magic. You tell them that Lord English might be a bitch and a bastard, but the little one is still only just Caliborn. And Caliborn, for all the scars he gave you and the headaches as didn’t fade for hours after he went to sleep, is still your child, even as you know he is your child that grows up cruel and perverse and pure, straight up, motherfucking evil. They leave him be.

“Oh perfect, well done!”

After that, there is… nothing. No more Game nonsense, no imps or demons or gods. Just you, and the family as isn’t yours by any blood or relation, but is your motherfucking family, by choice and emotion and deep, unwavering love.

You are an adult, and you are so, so, so full of love.

[bubmyg]

Can u write about being best friends with yoongi but recently you realized you kinda uhhh LOVE him so you’ve been acting different and a bit more flustered and he’s trying to figure out why and is sort of worried he did something wrong uwu

genre/warnings: slice of life, f2l, hoseok Knows, soft and sweet and cute :’-(

prompt: based on an article from business insider “7 signs someone is in love with you”, if you want the link lmk, i’m afraid to put one bc of tumblr’s whole link situation jfakldfjslafd aka a series of interactions that confirm your suspicion that you are, very much, in love with your best friend

word count: 3,383

1. they have fun with you even if the task at hand is not fun, per se

“Hoseok really isn’t going to help us clean?”

The red plastic cup ricocheting off your chest to fall into the open trash bag you held answered your question but you glanced up at Yoongi with a raised eyebrow anyway. He was looking at you, that look plastered across his features, hands blindly reaching to collect another pile of discarded cups in slender fingers as a challenging eyebrow quirked to match your own. 

“Yeah,” You agreed to the silence, a soft laugh leaving you, “You’re right.”

“We don’t have designated drivers here,” Yoongi jammed another stack of cups into the bag, holding your eye contact, “We have designated you get to clean up the following morning.” 

“But it’s always you cleaning.”

His fingers brushed yours as he took the filled bag from you, letting it plop on the tile with a loud clattering of plastic and aluminum into each other. The white was scrunched between his palms and tied into a hard knot, the contents in the bag sinking into the floor. 

Yoongi nodded, “Exactly.” 

Your hip pressed against the lip in the counter top, watching as he waddled around the side of the island, depositing the bag with the collection of others. A fond smile curled on each corner of your lips as you eyed him shake his head at the sheer amount of trash collecting near the threshold of the kitchen, cursing something about never again under his breath. 

“Can I at least turn on some music?” You slid your phone from your pocket, thumb already dancing across the screen, “So I can hear less of your complaints?”

“I’m not complaining about you.” 

Some obnoxious pop song trilled from the speakers on your phone as you deposited it back to the counter. A hesitant shimmy had you one, two, four steps closer to Yoongi with a soft grin. When you were close enough to see the fond caramel seep into the deep set chocolate of his irises did you shove at his waist, stepping around him to snatch a new trash bag. 

“Yeah,” You teased, bumping his hip as you thumbed apart the ends of the bag, “You better not be.”

“Can you at least change this song?” Yoongi was whining now, lips trembling on the edge of a pout. “I can’t dance to this.”

Your eyebrows shot up, “We’re dancing? I thought we were cleaning.”

He rolled his eyes, shrugging past you to grab your phone. The password came to seasoned thumbs effortlessly, something that earned a screech of protest from the back of your throat but he’d already changed the song to something any entirely new shade of obnoxious. 

Yoongi came back to you, wrapping an arm around your waist to elicit a burn to your cheeks and a gasp from parted lips as he spun you in a messy circle, baggy sweatpants brushing against the tops of your feet, hand splayed firmly on the small of your back over your thin shirt. 

“We’re doing both,” He deadpanned.

2. they look at you…a lot

A dry mouth not sated by any amount of water you downed from the glass in front of you and fingers aching to turn over your phone incessantly buzzing with notifications from you friend who’d likely just received your panicked holy shit he looks so good text didn’t ease the stupid amount of nerves buzzing through your veins. 

That’s how you found yourself gaping at Yoongi’s profile, again, drilling a hole in the part of his cheek flushed pink from the ballroom lights blanketing your table and the bow tie cinched around his neck. Conversation swirled around you but it was on ears of deaf ignorance, the only objective opinion in your conscious plagued with a neanderthal chant. 

Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi—

Why you agreed to go to a gala for Yoongi’s company with Yoongi, you would never know, nor would the six unworn outfits sprawled haphazardly across your bedroom. The dress you settled on itched, there were six new blisters scattered around your feet, your hair had gotten stuck in bits of charred chicken at least four times. 

And nothing said I’m in love with my best friend like staggering along behind him like a lost puppy with a permanent stutter in your speech every time he introduced you as this is my friend—

The slide of attentive dark eyes to you blatantly staring in his peripheral had your gaze jerking back to your lap, clammy fingers wringing together. The jewelry pasted to your skin slid as you worked, the ring on your thumb and index finger threatening to slide off. You jammed the metal, hard, against your knuckles, daring to peek back toward where Yoongi sat.  

His chin was craned completely for you, questioning smile the ghost of a dimple in his cheeks. More of his teeth appeared at your surprise, leaning closer to you. You jumped when Yoongi’s hand slid around your thigh, gasp swallowing hard down your throat when his breath brushed against the shell of your ear, lightly squeezing the supple skin covered by pleated silk.

“The chicken sucks,” He mumbled, thumb brushing across the seam of your dress to meet bare skin, “We’ll go get something else when we leave.”

Friend. You are a friend. Friend! 

“T-thank—” Your stutter returned on account of the cool links of his bracelet sliding into the crease of your thighs, “Thank god.” 

The tip of his nose brushed against your cheek as he pulled away with a rumbling chuckle, tsking playfully in his throat. His hand lingering and brushed off your skin and as if releasing the exhale in your lungs, your shoulders slumped all at once in a rush to grab for your water. 

If Yoongi weren’t trying to impress for a raise, you would have asked for something much stronger than the ice cubes you gulped down. Whole. 

3. they pay more attention to you

Hoseok ripped open the door before your wrist had even snapped to knock a second time, making no move to step out of the doorway as his stature sunk into the door frame. He regarded you with raised eyebrows, ones that disappeared into shaggy, freshly dyed red. 

“Why do you even knock anymore?” The bright headed boy contained a shrieking laugh with the back of his wrist, “We need to get you a key made.”

Your cheeks flamed, weight shifting from foot to foot, palms growing clammy around the hoodie you curled against your chest. 

“I’m not here that often,” You protested.

His stature rocked, taking up the opposite end of the door frame. “This is the third time you’ve been here today, love.”

“I can’t help it that Yoongi forgot his wallet in my car. Or needed me to listen to that new track he’s been working on,” You hesitated, palms flexing around the soft cotton, “…or forgot his hoodie in my closet.”

Hoseok snorted, “In your closet, huh?”

“Just let me—”

“Will you stop pestering our guests?” 

A lumbering flash later and a half asleep Yoongi was behind Hoseok’s shoulder. Curled knuckles dug into swollen eyelids, black t-shirt riding up over his hips as he yawned, elbows curling above his head. 

“After they’re here, at minimum, sixteen hours a day, they aren’t guests anymore, they’re roommates,” Hoseok’s thumb and index finger brushed together underneath your nose, “Careful and I’ll start making you pay rent.”

Yoongi’s knuckles pushed into the center of his friend’s chest, moving him out of the way to cup your elbow and drag you into the apartment. “Does more work around here than you ever do,” His palm slid down your forearm, dropping limply against his side, “Can I trade you out, Hoseok?”

Faintly, the tune of Can You Feel the Love Tonight whistled through Hoseok’s lips as he stepped around you to stalk into the depths of the apartment but you couldn’t pin point for sure when Yoongi’s hands were curling around your knuckles and taking the hoodie from your grasp. 

“Stealing my stuff again?” He teased. 

“Something like that...”

4. they show empathy — in good times and bad

You pressed your cheek against Yoongi’s arm, listening attentively as he ranted. You nodded where needed, hummed during pauses for swallowing, never stopped the brushed of your thumb across the inside of his thumb where he clutched onto your hand. 

“I don’t know why I expected anything less than the position going to Seokjin but—” His voice broke for the first time, knuckles white in your grasp, “—I don’t know."

You shifted, chin rutting into his chest, shoulders sagging as you offered a sad smile up at him. He mirrored the gesture, eyes dropping quickly from yours as the grip on your hand lessened. 

“There will be more opportunities, yes?” 

Yoongi shrugged, a full bodied movement. His bottom lip wobbled slightly, swelling below his cupid’s bow, rasping, “Probably. I just—I just really wanted it. You know?”

The syntax telling your brain that would be really dumb if you did that came after the first tear leaked from the corner of your eye, rolling down the slope of your nose. You laughed in spite of the second and third that followed it, shaking your head as your chin dropped.

But the descend didn’t get far as a thumb and index finger were curling around your chin, lifting your gaze. 

“Are you crying?” Yoongi demanded softly, laughing along with you. He dropped your hand to cup your cheeks in both palms, fighting at the onslaught with his thumbs, “Why are you crying?” 

“I don’t like it that you’re upset,” You sniffled, “and I want to fight your boss.”

He laughed, unabashed and full of gums, index fingers curling to brush underneath your eyes, tucking into your hair and dropping at the nape of your neck. “Well, please stop crying,” His tongue traced his bottom lip, an attempt to contain the wide spread of his smile but to no avail, “That makes me more upset.”

5. they remember the little things

"Oh, good, you’re here again,” Hoseok dryly commented as you shoved past him in the doorway. 

“Is he in his office?”

“Hello to you too, Hobi, yeah, I’m just fantastic and I love seeing your bright and smiling face every time I show up at this apartment which is a lot, if you didn’t know—” 

You answered your own question, nudging open the frosted glass with your hip the second you saw a fuzzy blob twisting about in a desk chair. The bag in hand suddenly felt ten times heavier, the brightly colored ropes knotted at the top burning into the curl of your digits. But you didn’t have time to turn and run because Yoongi had already shrugged out of his earbuds and rolled his chair closer to you. 

“Hey,” He leaned forward, elbows on his thighs, reaching a finger out to poke your stomach, “What brings you here?”

The longer your stunned silence lingered in the air, the hotter your skin grew, heart roaring in your ears, white blinding across your eyes. You registered the mold of Yoongi’s plush lips into a frown, pen stained fingertips prodding at your waist against but his voice seemed far away, underwater. 

Or maybe you were finally underwater, giving meaning to the statement in over your head. 

“Happy birthday,” You blurted finally, shoving the obnoxious purple bag against his chest. The heavy box inside swung like a pendulum from where the handles were clutched in your hands, brushing at the front of his hoodie for a few passing moments before he finally was reacting. 

The creaking of the plastic pieces of Yoongi’s chair seemed amplified ten fold in your hyper sensitive ears as his arms curved around your hand, taking the bag from you. The paper creaked now as he placed it down in his lap, carefully sliding his index finger between each side of the bag to pry it open. 

“But it’s not my birthday,” The tape in the center popped apart as he grinned up at you, “It’s not even close to my birthday.”

Your eyes squeezed shut like your fists next to your thighs, “Just open the present, Yoongi.”

He laughed, giggled, high pitched and gleeful as a hand dipped inside the bag, fishing around for the contents inside. He seemed to move in slow motion, brushing the bag aside, placing the nearly flat cardboard box into his lap, prying open the sides, plucking packing peanuts aside to flick in your direction, brushing the box out of his lap to replace it with the foam sleeve. 

“A...” Yoongi trailed off, eyebrows knit in disbelief as he placed the device against his thighs, “...a record player? You bought me a record player?”

“It’s the one you said you wanted, from that one shop you like,” You rushed to explain, “I went and got it after work today and I couldn’t wait until your actual birthday or Christmas or whatever to give it to you so I drove over and—”

You squeaked when he grabbed your wrist, tugging you forward and then down to center his lips against your temple, silencing only your speech but worsening your screeching heart. 

“Thank you,” He spoke against your skin, lips wet and brushing over the spot he’d pecked, “I love it.”

Your heart tripped and clattered up into your throat, clawing desperately to pry apart your lips and scream. 

I love you. 

6. they introduce you to the important people in their lives

Yoongi froze in your doorway when your hand around his wrist was no longer tugging him forward. Another bark. Another titter of nails against hardwood. A hush from you. One more bark. 

“Angel?” He called into your apartment, “What is that?”

The barking ceased but clattering toenails turned into bounding steps. You watched from the hallway as the dog slid, face first, into Yoongi’s shins, tongue lulling from his mouth, tail wagging so violently his entire back end swayed. The startled man crouched, fingers becoming lost in the dog’s thick brown and white fur as his blank stare stayed fixated on a warped spot in the hardwood where the flooring shifted to tile in the kitchen. 

“Meet Coco.”

Yoongi jumped, again, when you shoved yourself off the wall, stalking over to where he scratching long fingers through your dog’s coarse fur. He squinted at you as you joined him, pressing crooked finger tips into the dog’s hips and working soft circles with the blunt edge of your nails. 

“You have a dog?”

You nodded, “I have a dog.”

“Why...” Yoongi trailed off, shaking his head in disbelief, “When did you get a dog?”

“Two weeks ago.”

“You hid a dog from me for two weeks—” 

You reached, cupping your palm across his lips until they stopped opening like a fish out of water. “I hid a dog from everyone for two weeks,” You hushed, “So maybe stop announcing it to everyone.”

“He was literally barking when I got here.”

“He literally hasn’t barked since I got him. Just at you,” You sat down, alerting the attention of the dog as it wiggled over to step in between the cross of your lap, “Probably because you’re the first person he’s met besides me.”

Yoongi sat too, still staring at you like you’d grown a toe out of the tip of your nose. “You haven’t told anyone that you have a dog? Not even your landlord?”

“Until I have to pay extra on my rent—” Your lips brushed the top of the dog’s head, “—I’m not going to.”

Silence, and then a hushed, “I can’t believe you have a dog. I can’t believe you told me you have a dog.”

"Careful,” You shifted, dragging the panting dog closer to your chest, “Next I’ll tell you I have a mom and you’ll have to meet her, too.”

7. they often mention the future

Yoongi hummed around the rim of his wine glass, taking another languid sip of crimson red past chapped lips. “What is it about wine that makes you so inquisitive?”

Poking him no longer felt like you were burning a hole in your finger tips, not with the dull buzz of alcohol sating your heart. “Answer my question, Yoongi,” You prodded at his ankle again, traveling higher up his calf where he sat cross legged in front of you. 

“I’ve already answered all your questions tonight so—” He took another sip, letting the glass fall with a clatter against the stone coaster on your coffee table, “—tell me about your future. Where do you see yourself?”

“Can I be honest with you?” Something in your conscious screamed for you to shut up but the round of your lips forcing the words to roll off your tongue failed to listen. 

Yoongi’s curt nod of acknowledgement had you spilling, “I just wanted to see if your plans included me because mine include you—” Your attention fell to the remnants of the bleeding liquid in your glass, swirling it around, “—sorry.”

When he was silent for longer than your heart cared to take, you were shooting up from the couch, nearly spilling the limited wine left in your glass all over the front of your shirt. “I’m getting more,” You announced, tripping again in your desperate attempt to get past him. 

You didn’t get much farther than around the arm of the couch when his fingers brushed across your hips, snagging against the fabric of your shirt to tug. Your glass met the coffee table, mirroring his as he instead curled his fingers around your clenched fists, pulling until you sank back into the couch a space away from him where you’d once been. 

“Of course my plans include you,” He quirked an eyebrow, chasing your gaze that tried to avoid his eyes. When you finally blinked up at him he inquired softly, “Why wouldn’t they?”

“Yoongi, I don’t think we mean it in the same way.”

He hummed, thumbs brushing your knuckles, easing apart the tense muscles the thread your fingers together, holding your encased hands in his lap. “Try me,” He prodded, “What way do you mean?”

“Forget it.”

“No, I won’t forget it,” Yoongi eased himself forward, bringing your hands up to feather his lips over the back of your hands, “Because I tried to forget it but I couldn’t.”

“Because I thought I’d done something wrong. I mean, we’ve been friends for so long and all of the sudden you started to act like I’d burnt you every time I breathed too close. You wouldn’t even make eye contact with me yet you kept showing up at my apartment only to behave like I’d done something wrong.”

“Then I thought about it,” He tilted his head to one side, “and I thought about myself and my feelings and I realized something. Or, I thought I realized something—” When you quirked an eyebrow, he grinned, “—love, you’re not very subtle. I haven’t heard you stutter since that speech you had to give about tarantulas in freshman year communications.”

“So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Yoongi leaned closer, “that I’m in love with you, too. Always have been. Always will be.”

You squeaked and you stuttered and you avoided his eye contact all in the span of a half a second, “Who said I’m in love with you?”

He tugged you closer by your intertwined hands, dropping the appendages to curl his fingers underneath your jaw, holding you in place. 

“Well, are you?”

You huffed out a laugh, “Maybe. A little.”

“Can you say it so I can kiss you?” 

“But you can kiss me now.”

“I’m not kissing you until you say it.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“But you love me?”

You sighed, centering your eyes back to his, finally, finding absolute adoration in your favorite brown eyes that you could have caught on to months ago if you hadn’t been so wrapped up in your own apprehension. 

“Yes, Yoongi,” The exhale that left you trembled at your shoulders, at your fingers that dared to curl around his wrists, “I love you.”

“Good,” He nodded, awkward albeit, eyes flicking to your mouth, “Uh, can I kiss you now?”

“Please.”