#i wish we can normalize dudes hugging and being affectionate

[standing-bears-dont-run]

I miss these two dorks.

[suituuup]

crushing it

A day in the life of Bechloe with triplets and a seven-year-old. For the lovely @snowonebutyou as a birthday gift <3

rated: G

word cout: 1,600

ao3 link

*

Mornings in the Beale-Mitchell household are often chaotic. 

(who is Beca kidding. Always. Always chaotic.) 

When Abigail turned three, Chloe and Beca decided they wanted to have another baby. 

To their utter shock, it wasn’t one heartbeat that showed up on the ultrasound, but three. 

Three babies. Triplets. 

Following a few hours of panic (mostly on Beca’s end, because she would be the one birthing them), Chloe reminded Beca that they were the best team, and that they would, in Amy’s words, crush it. 

Fast forward four and a half years, Beca does believe they’re crushing it, even if it’s hectic from waking-up to drop-off and from pick-up to bedtime. 

Honestly, though? Beca wouldn’t change it for the world. 

“Mama, I’m lost!”

Beca glances over her shoulder to find Jacob struggling to put on her sweater as his head is stuck in the sleeve. 

She chuckles, abandoning Jamie for a second to crawl on all-fours over to her other son. “Hold on, baby.” She pulls on the sleeve and twists the sweater, Jacob’s head popping through in the right hole this time. “There you are. Now put your pants on, quick! We don’t wanna be late for school.” 

“Mamaaaaa!” Eleanor, the youngest of the tribe and by far the most mischievous one, zooms into the room from the bathroom. “My teeth are all brushed!”

Beca manages to bite back the f-word when she realizes Ellie also smeared toothpaste all over her top. She doesn’t want to stomp on her daughter’s pride by scolding her for being messy when she accomplished a task all by herself, and takes a deep, centering breath. 

“Good job. We might wanna change your top, though.” She pushes to her feet, rummaging through the dresser top drawer for something clean. “Here you go.” 

“That’s Jamie’s!” Eleanor cries, pouting. “It’s got a dinosaur on it, Mama!” 

“Yeah well lucky you, because dinosaurs are really cool.” 

That seems acceptable for Ellie, who accepts to switch without further argument. 

“Alright, let’s brush our teeths boys and go downstairs!” 

While one of them gets the triplets ready for school, the other puts their lunch boxes together and cleans up breakfast. 

“All good?” Chloe asks when they round the corner to the kitchen a few minutes later. 

Beca huffs, making a bee-line for the counter to take a much-needed sip from her coffee. Great, it’s cold. She grimaces and sets the mug down. “Ugh.” 

“I poured fresh one in your travel mug,” Chloe lets her know with a soft wink as she gives each triplet their backpack containing their lunches.  

Beca groans, snagging it. “I love you.” 

“Love you, too.” Chloe pecks Beca’s lips before calling upstairs, “Abigail, time to go!” 

“Alright monsters, shoes.” Beca ushers the triplets to the entryway where their shoes are stored. 

“I do it, Mama,” Jamie says, because they’ve obviously got time to practice shoe lacing this morning. 

Summoning the patience she definitely didn’t have before becoming a mom, Beca smiles, observing. She’s gotta admit, Jamie sticking his tongue out in concentration is adorable. “Cross, loop, loop and tie. Good job!” 

She high fives him, then grabs their three coats, handing them over. Their oldest appears and quickly puts her shoes on, standing on the tip of her toes to unhook her coat herself. 

“Alright, let’s roll, fam!” Once Chloe’s kissed each child goodbye, they step out of the house and pile into the van (yep, they’ve got a van now) with only two minutes behind schedule. 

“Mama play the song!” Eleanor requests once Beca’s pulled out of their driveway. 

Their children have impeccable taste in music, much to Beca’s pride. Ellie’s been obsessed with Lizzo’s Truth Hurts lately though, which… does include a few bad words and which landed Beca and Chloe a meeting with her Kindergarten teacher after Ellie apparently belted out “Turns out I’m a hundred percent that bitch” during recess. 

Later that day, Beca explained to their four-year-old daughter that the word bitch shouldn’t be said in public, even through song. 

They make it to school on time, Beca pulling up in the drop off section and watching her kids step out. “See you tonight guys, love you!” 

She enjoys the ten minutes of relative quiet over the drive to the office, contentedly sipping at her coffee as she hums along to the radio. After parking in her spot in front of the studio, she checks her phone to find a message from her wife. She chuckles, her cheeks warming up as she reads Chloe’s words. 

My love

Didn’t have time to tell you, but you’re rocking that work suit 🥵

Beca

Oh yeah? 

My love

Any chance you can stop by the clinic for lunch and… entertain me? 

Beca

Jesus, woman. 

I would, but today’s packed with meetings. 

I’ll make it up to you once the kids are asleep 😉

My love

Fine, I guess I’ll settle for that, then. Have a good day. Love you!

Smiling to herself, Beca replies with the same sentiment. 

Her work day is busy with meetings left and right and finishing up a project to meet the deadline, and Beca’s brain has turned to mush by the time she steps through the threshold of their home at the end of the day, a bit later than usual. 

Jacob, the most affectionate of their four kids greets her with a much-needed hug when she rounds the living room corner. Beca closes her eyes and inhales his shampoo, his hair still slightly damp from bath time. 

Bless her wife for handling the pre-dinner routine all by herself. 

“Thank you baby. Mama really needed that.” She lets him go, walking over to where Ellie and Jamie are playing on the floor and kissing each forehead. “Hey munchkins.” 

Abigail is coloring at the table while Chloe stirs something at the stove when Beca ventures into the kitchen next. She cards her fingers through her daughter’s red hair. “Hey baby. Whatcha drawing?” 

“Flowers,” the seven-year-old replies as she reaches for a different crayon. 

“Very pretty,” Beca says, bending down to kiss her head as well. She steps up to Chloe, wrapping her arms around her waist from behind. “Hey you.” 

Chloe leans back against her briefly. “Hi. Busy day?” 

“So busy. Thanks for handling everything by yourself, babe.” She brushes a kiss to Chloe’s cheek, squeezing her waist as she steps away. “Can I do anything to help?” 

“It’s almost ready so just get the kids to wash up?” 

Dinner is mostly entertained by their kids talking about the activities they did at school. Following a bit of playtime, both she and Chloe head upstairs to put them to bed. Abigail handles herself now, but she does still like for one of her moms to read her a story. 

“Mama?” She asks as soon as Beca closes the book to set it back on the shelf. 

“Yeah baby?” 

“What’s it like to be in love?” 

Beca blinks in shock, far from expecting that question from her seven-year-old. She supposes it’s better than the where do babies come from? bomb, but still. 

“Um, well…” she clears her throat, shifting so that she’s facing Abigail as opposed to sitting beside her. She thinks about her wife, and tries to put how she feels in clear words. “Basically, it’s… thinking about that person all the time, and feeling safe and really happy and… at home whenever you’re around them.”

“And you wanna kiss?” 

Beca purses her lips for a moment. “Um, sure. You may want to kiss them if you’re in love with them.” 

Abigail seems to mull that over for a little while. “Benjamin kissed me today, does that mean he’s in love with me?” 

Jesus Christ. Beca really wishes Chloe was here right now to handle this conversation. 

“No, not necessarily,” she says once she’s gathered her bearings. “People kiss other people without being in love. It might just be… an attraction, like, thinking someone is pretty.” 

Abigail grins. “I think he’s handsome.” 

Watching her seven-year-old daughter swoon over some boy is very unsettling and something Beca was definitely not ready for for another ten years at least. 

“So you wanted him to kiss you, then?” Beca asks tentatively to make sure that boy didn’t force Abigail to kiss him. 

Abigail nods. “It was cool.” 

Cool. Cool. Cool?! 

Beca sucks in a breath, mustering a smile. “Okay, as long as you agreed to it, that’s fine. You know that if a boy or a girl wants to kiss or hug you and you don’t want to, it’s okay to say no, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Good.” She bends down to kiss Abigail’s forehead. “Anything else before I go?” 

“Nope. Night, Mama.” 

“Goodnight, baby.” 

She tucks the covers up to Abigail’s chin and hits the main light on her way out, her brain reeling as she heads back downstairs. She finds Chloe folding a load of laundry on the couch with the TV on low, and lowers herself beside her. 

“What’s wrong?” She asks immediately, frowning at Beca’s expression. 

Beca clears her throat. “Our daughter is apparently… kissing boys.” 

“Which one?” 

“Abigail,” Beca hisses, shocked that Chloe would think that Ellie is old enough to be kissing anyone. 

Chloe simply smiles, picking up a pair of toddler jeans from the basket and folding them. “She’s seven, it’s pretty normal for her to explore those things.” 

Beca squints. “How old were you?” 

“About that age, I think. It was just a tiny peck.” She tosses the jeans on the folded pile and picks up another item. “My first real kiss was at thirteen.” 

“Who was it?” 

Chloe laughs, cocking an eyebrow. “What is this, an interrogatory?” 

“No, I’m just curious, I guess.” She shrugs, grabbing a towel from the basket to fold it. 

“His name was Jeremy. Too much tongue. Did not kiss him again.” 

“Ew. What is it with dudes and tongue?”

Chloe giggles. “Beats me.” She eyes her wife. “Who was yours?” 

“My neighbor Trevor. I was fifteen.” Beca closes her eyes and shudders exaggeratedly. “If I could erase it from my memory I would.” 

“Good thing you’re married to an excellent kisser to make up for the trauma, huh?” Chloe smirks and waggles her eyebrows, pulling a chuckle from Beca. 

“Dude, not to boost your ego even more or anything, but that first kiss sent me into another dimension. I just about forgot my own name.” 

“Aww. You were still a useless baby gay back then. Discovering the power of women.” 

“Shut up,” Beca mutters, shoving her wife as she flushes. She eyes the basket and groans. “How do we have so much laundry?” 

“Four kids, babe.” 

Beca sighs, then glances at Chloe, a smirk curving her lips. “Wanna leave it for tomorrow and make out?” 

Chloe’s on top of her before she can register it, muffling her squeak of laughter with a heated kiss. 

[planetsam]

I have so many feels from that hug! I want all the Malex affection. I would love to see a post Crashcon fic where Michael keeps being really physically affectionate towards Alex and just generally wanting him close by because my dude was not even trying to hide his emotions here. +1 for this leading to *the* big talk where they are both honest with their feelings.

“Shit shit shit,” Michael can only curse as he runs through the crowd, “Get out of the way! Move!”

No-one wants to move, of course, because no-one in this fucking town can. Michael’s got no other option even though he knows it’s going to land him in more hot water than he wants to be in right now. He’s got no powers so the only choice he has is to deck the first guy he sees with a holster and fire several shots into the air. They crowd, understandably, panics. Screams ring out as people run away. That’s the thing about chaos, it feeds on itself. And no-one wants to be a hero at fucking Crash Con.

“Guerin!”

Except for one fucking person.

“We have to go,” Alex says, “everyone else is gone. Come on.”

He reaches for him but Michael shrugs him off. He’s not sure why, he just knows that he can’t run. Not when alien tech is going to destroy everything. Not when the one thing he’s been working towards his entire life is about to go up in smoke. If he had his powers maybe he could move it but he doesn’t. He can’t. Everything in him is screaming to run in about a dozen different directions, do a dozen different things. Alex grabs him this time, slipping past Michael’s defenses. As per fucking usual.

“It’s gonna blow,” Michael says, “the stage is varnished.”

“Then we have to get away from here,” Alex says.

“But it’s the console,” Michael retorts, turning to look at it, “it’s complete. Max thinks it’s a remote. There’s a ship—” 
“Guerin, it’s not worth dying over,” Alex says.

“You don’t know that!”

Alex stares at him and Michael knows he probably sounds insane. He doesn’t have time to make Alex understand what he’s trying to put into words. He can’t just leave his one chance here though. He doesn’t know if it’s worth it or if it isn’t, he doesn’t know if he can make that choice. It’s odd how his greatest reason to stay and his greatest chance to go are both here. Trying to force the choice, even though he swore it was earth. He swore but he wasn’t sure. He’s not sure now.

“Alex I can’t,” he says, “there’s a chance for me to go home. I can’t walk away from that.”

He sees Alex’s jaw clench and he doesn’t know what to say. Or how to say it. He would stay for Alex, that much is so fucking clear, but Alex doesn’t want him to stay. Or doesn’t want to be the reason he stays. He doesn’t want to stand in his way. Michael isn’t good at these choices, he always always makes the wrong fucking one. Sometimes the reason is good, sometimes it isn’t, but the end result always is the opposite of what he wants.

“Is that what you want?” Alex asks. Michael opens and closes his mouth, “answer me Guerin, do you want to go?”

“No,” he blurts out.

“Then give me the gun,” Alex says.

Michael hands it over, not sure what he’s going to do until Alex lifts it and assumes a stance that Michael hasn’t seen. He’s only caught glimpses of the solider Alex became. The uniform, the stance, all of that is a covering that he can push past usually. This isn’t. Michael has to force himself to watch as Alex aims and squeezes the trigger. The pieces want to be together but Alex breaks them apart with surgical precession, burying several bullets neatly at key points.

Gold radiates out and splinters across the surface. Michael swears that he can hear the glass screaming. It hurts in the hollow place where he can usually find Max and Isobel, the place where his telekensis comes from. It hurts there and it hurts everywhere, like he’s the one breaking apart. The glass keeps cracking and he hears Alex take several more shots that make the heavy curtains fall on it. Michael takes a step towards the glass but the breaking continues as the molecules pull apart. There’s a high pitched sound, that’s his only warning.

“Get down!” He yells and tackles Alex as his only shot at getting home explodes.

It’s hot and chaotic and it hurts but Michael stays covering Alex as much as he can until he feels the shards of glass stop bouncing off his jacket. When he pulls back, Alex’s face is tight and a few shades paler than Michael is used to seeing. Michael ignores every boundary to try and identify the problem, flattening his hands against Alex’s chest and neck. Alex coughs and opens his eyes, immediately shrugging Michael off to curl over his wrist.

“Shit,” Michael swears.

Alex’s wrist is bent at an awkward angle and whether it’s because of the tackle, the ship or something else—it doesn’t really matter. It all comes back to him. The bone’s not through the skin but he can see Alex is in pain. He braces himself but before he can push himself up, Michael gets his hand under his wrist. They both look around at the chaos from the explosion. Getting out is paramount but Michael doesn’t have it in him to hurt Alex more. He throws his jacket to the side and grabs his overshirt, ignoring the heat on his skin. He gets his jacket under his arm and wraps his shirt into a makeshift sling, bracing it as much as he possibly can.

“Come on,” he says, helping Alex get to his feet.

“Get the gun,” Alex snaps and of course he would be thinking logically at a time like this. Michael grabs the firearm, “this way,” Alex says nodding in a direction.

Michael trusts him and helps him get away from the explosion. Alex’s gait is steady but there’s no way the very slight limp he still has is pleasant on this. Michael does his best to take any of the jostling off. It’s not perfect but what the hell is in their lives. Worry and grief churn in his gut but the first outweighs the second. He can mourn for his ticked out as soon as his reason to stay is alright.

“Hey, hey I need some help,” he says to the first paramedic he sees, “his wrist is broken.”

The paramedic ushers them over. Michael doesn’t even think about scrambling into the ambulance after Alex as the paramedic snaps on a pair of gloves and undoes his makeshift splint and sling. Alex’s jaw clenches as the limb is shifted onto a proper splint and re-bandaged. Michael can hear the chaos going around outside.

“Sir, sir!” Michael turns to get a bright light shown in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” he snaps.

Alex makes a pained sound that has his heart leap into his throat but when the paramedic is inspecting his wrist, he glares and motions towards the ambulance door. Even though he’s relieved that Alex isn’t actually in more pain he still manages to shake his head. He’s not going anywhere. He didn’t get how Max was about Liz and anything vaguely Liz-Related but it’s starting to make a lot more sense to him now.

“You can’t help at the hospital,” Alex tells him the second the paramedic is called out to triage someone in worse shape than Alex, “you have to go,” he says.

“What? No way. I’m not leaving you—“

“Yes,” Alex says firmly, “they’re going to try and check you out again,” Michael opens his mouth, “you aren’t family. You can’t come with me when they fix my wrist,” he says, though not as unkindly as Michael’s pretty sure he deserves, “make sure everyone else is okay.”

Michael doesn’t want to get out of the ambulance and he fucking knows that ‘make sure everyone else is okay’ is a cheap ploy to get him out. Everyone else is a lot better off than his powerless ass. But Alex gives him a hard look that distinctly says Michael shouldn’t be questioning him right now. Normally Michael would tell him where he can put that look, but the pallor of his skin and the tight press of his lips makes him reconsider. The pained groan that Alex gave to distract the paramedic was partially theatrical but Alex also isn’t in a position to play alien interference.

“Fine, but I’m coming by afterwards. If they discharge you let me know.”

Despite his best efforts to be quick about it, it takes him a few hours to find everyone and help in various ways. It’s enough time for Alex to send a text that he’s been discharged and when Michael asks if he escaped or actually got discharged, Alex sends him a picture of a massive white plaster cast that takes up his forearm and Michael discovers that you can flip someone off with a recently set wrist. Despite his bone deep weariness and the fact that Alex might not let him in, Michael goes over.

“You okay?” He asks quickly.

“I’m fine,” Alex says, his eyes sweeping him up and down, “are you?”

“Yeah, I’m not the one in a cast.”

Alex scoffs but still somehow lets him in.

“You are the one who got his ticked home blown up,” he points out. Michael winces as he goes to the thing that Michael was trying to avoid thinking about, “by a Manes man,” Alex adds.

How Alex can manage to feel bad about that floors Michael. After all the fucked up shit that happened it’s clear Alex didn’t want to do what he did. It’s also clear that he expects Michael to blame him for it, even though they both know Michael practically begged him to do it.

“You got your wrist broken,” Michael points out.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle,” Alex says.

“Considering your pain tolerance that’s everything,” Michael points out.

Alex looks away and Michael wonders if he’s managed to slide over some invisible line already. Obviously he wishes Alex’s life wasn’t so filled with pain and he’s not proud of the role that he’s played in adding to it. Both intentionally and unintentionally. Alex looks at him pointedly and Michael wonders why it suddenly feels like there’s electricity in the air.

“I didn’t want to do that to your console,” Alex says.

“I don’t give a shit about the console!”

“You don’t give a shit about the thing you spent your whole life building? The thing I stole from you?” Alex questions, “I saw the way you were looking at it. I swore I wasn’t going to be another person from my family who got in your way.”

“I wanted you to be in my way!” Michael is surprised by how loud and desperate his voice comes out, “I couldn’t do that myself. I needed you there,” Alex looks surprised but still defensive, “I know you wouldn’t have done it without me making you,” Michael says finally.

Alex looks down and Michael tries to swallow the emotion that tightens his throat.

“For how long?” He asks.

“What?”

“How long is that going to last before it becomes my fault?” Alex asks. Michael wishes he didn’t know what he was talking about. He wishes he could say it wouldn’t but he can’t. Alex shakes his head, “we both know it’s only a matter of time.”

“No, no,” Michael says, “not this time.”

Alex shakes his head.

“You can’t know that,” he says.

Michael stares at him. Alex, not being a coward, doesn’t look away. He just waits. Michael hates that about him. Alex can be patient, not that he always is. But when he needs to be, he can be. Michael is usually the one who breaks first and this time is no different.

“You got a pen?”

Alex stares at him, confused. But he goes over to the drawer and pulls out a pen because of course Alex is also the more organized. Michael uncaps it and motions for Alex to give him his casted arm. Alex sighs but extends it, giving Michael more trust than he probably deserves at the moment.

“Not Alex’s Fault,” he says, “signed by me,” he adds, scribbling his name, “is it past midnight?” He dates it too just to be safe, “there. If I try to do something stupid just show me that.”

Alex looks down at his wrist. But he doesn’t look convinced. Michael can’t fully blame him. He can only hope that it’s a start in the right direction. Alex lowers his wrist and rubs between his eyebrows.

“Do you want something to eat?”

“Huh?”
 “Food, do you want food,” Alex says, “we should talk but I’m starving.”

Michael stares for a moment before nodding quickly. He’s surprised at how this has turned but he can’t say he’s upset about it. He watches as Alex makes his way over to the fridge.

“What are you in the mood for?” He asks, looking back at him.

Michael finally catches on and comes over to help Alex look.

[thewondersofsmut]

Eye Colors

Summary: The moment you were born, everyone’s eyes were just dull and grey, no color... until you meet your soulmate, the only person who you’ll see the color of their eyes and the only one to see yours.

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: language, smut

A/N: As always, this is just fiction, no hate towards the wonderful Ackles Family. Feedback is loved.

Masterlist

Credits

The rays of the sun we’re slightly visible through the dark curtains, the day was bright and sunny. The cold in the room made your wrap the blankets closer to you, snuggling back to the warm body pressed behind your back, cozying up. Despite the warm blankets, your body shivered as soft and warm kisses were placed on your neck, a scruffy beard tickling you, causing you to giggle. You felt him smile behind you, his arms snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, if that was even possible, tightening his grip as he ground himself to you, a soft moan escaping your lips. 

“Good morning,” Came his husky voice. You hummed in approval. “Good morning indeed.” You whispered your reply, causing him to chuckle. “I love you.” He whispered, nuzzling into your neck, kissing the spot behind your ear that always makes your head stir crazy. “You’re being overly affectionate today, Mr. Ackles, not that I mind it, but is there something you’d like to tell me?” You asked, twisting around so you can face him and bask in his morning handsomeness. Your mouth ran dry as your eyes met his. “Just happy to see your (y/e/c) eyes—“ 

You shot up from your sleep, rubbing your eyes, your heart pounding hard as you tried get over the recurring dream. How could you imagine the Jensen Ackles as your soulmate, you don’t even know what his eye color was, heck, you don’t know why you’d dream of him having green eyes. Maybe you’ve watch too much Supernatural, you thought. That was intimate information, only those who had found their soulmates talk about their eye colors openly. That dream was so vivid though, it almost ached your heart to think about it, like the television did no justice to just how good looking he was. 

The Seattle wind was picking, fall was lovely, but you were excited for winter, the bundles of warm coats, the snow, the boots, you loved it, despite all the hard work to make you love it. You loved Seattle too because it was so close to where your favorite show is being filmed but you weren’t a crazed fan to go seek them out. “Hey, (y/n),” You were greeted when you entered the coffee shop you always went to. “Hey, Dover,” You smiled. “The usual?” He asked and you nodded, but when you were about to pay, he shook his head with a knowing smile. “Someone paid it for you.” He said and you furrowed your eyebrows. “Who—“ 

An echoed step was heard behind you. “I had a recurring dream of this coffee shop where I’d go to almost every weekend. So today, I found out that this place was real and not only in my dreams. I asked this awesome dude if there was a girl who comes here often, she had (y/h/c) hair about yea tall, I would have told him she had (y/e/c) eyes but he wouldn’t know that.” You were frozen on the spot. You knew that voice from anywhere, but in that moment, it was just as clear as in your dream just an hour beforehand. When you turned around, you took an unnecessary deep breath when you saw just how green his eyes were, it was like a forest.

 “I wish my dream would tell me your name, I have a feeling you watch the show cuz I had dreams where your eyes would crinkle on the side when you try to get spoilers out of me. Also, dude here didn’t tell me.” Jensen playfully glared at Dover. “Man, I would’ve told you how much of a fan she is but—“ You cut him off with a glare and he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Your spot’s open as always.” He said and busied himself with cleaning. 

“Please speak?” Jensen asked when you two were seated, you wondered how you even got to the seat without spilling your coffee on you. “I’m sorry this is just a lot to take in, I’m (y/n).” You managed to squeak and he smiled. “I took a chance today, hoping I’d finally meet my soulmate, and I’m glad I did.” He confessed and you heart swelled. “I’m awfully quiet, I’m normally not like this, sorry, I’m trying to calm my inner fangirl and set her aside so I can talk to you as your soulmate.” You bashfully said, staring into his eyes when he chuckled. “My dreams don’t justify how beautiful your (y/e/c) eyes.” He whispered as if reading your mind. 

“I thought I was losing my mind imagining that your eyes would be green...” You whispered. “I can’t seem to wrap my head around the fact that, you, Jensen Ackles, is the only person to see my (y/e/c) eyes and I’m the only one to see your green ones.” You softly said and then chuckled, “I literally told myself I was watching too much Supernatural,” You added. He smirked, running his tongue between his teeth, making you exhale. “(Y/n), my first dream of you, we were at the beach, sunbathing, you looked hot by the way,” He chuckled, looking at you and you felt yourself blush.

“I just stopped, stared at you, your (y/e/c) eyes were mesmerizing, I didn’t know how much I could feel my heart beat in my sleep because of just seeing you, I woke with a smile, I’ve always thought it was only stories that you dream of your soulmate.” He recalled, silently taking your hand in his and squeezed, making your heart ache in a good way. “I wanna know you more, (y/n), I’m sure you know a lot about me—“ “But I’d like to know you more, not just you in front of the cameras.” You continued for him and he smiled brightly. “Let’s know each other as soulmates.”

“Good morning,” Came his husky voice. You hummed in approval, your eyes fluttering open as you felt him kiss the back of your neck tenderly. “Good morning indeed.” You whispered your reply, causing him to chuckle. “I love you.” He whispered, nuzzling into you. “You’re being overly affectionate today, Mr. Ackles, not that I mind it, but is there something you’d like to tell me?” You teasingly asked, twisting around so you can face him and bask in his morning handsomeness, your eyes meeting his sparkling green eyes. “Just happy to see you (y/e/c) eyes.” He said, a mischievous smirk started to spread across his face. 

He leaned in and tenderly pressed his lips against yours. “And, Mrs. Ackles, I just want to enjoy you.” He murmured, his hooded eyes staring you down like his prey. You smiled, biting your bottom lip. You opened your mouth slightly and he took that opportunity to kiss you deeper, pushing you back with his chest until he was propped up on his forearms above you, caging you in between his shoulders. You slipped your hands up his sides and then cupped his face. The silence was overwhelmed by the sounds of the waves breaking, some stray seagulls cawing about in the air. 

“The sea’s calling to us, Jen.” You murmured, eyes meeting his. “I know, but the beach can wait.” He replied but before you could say anything, he moved his lips to your jaw and neck, eliciting a moan from deep within your chest. One by one, he took your hand and pinned them on either side of your face, grinding his body down to yours, to feel your skin against his. His grunts echoed the room, spurring you on. “Jensen—“ You moaned and he parted your legs with his knees, settling in between them. You can feel his morning hard on against your lace underwear but his mouth distracted you more, his lush green eyes boring a hole through your eyes as he attached his lips to your breasts. 

“I’m so lucky to have you as my soulmate, (y/n).” He murmured, kissing up your chest until he met your parted lips his hands ridding himself and you off the rest of your little clothing. “And I with you...” You replied. “I’m so lucky to marry you, to look into your eyes and remind myself that you and I are made for each other.” He whispered, his own eyes watering. “Oh Jensen...” You cooed, cupping  his face and pulling him down to kiss him. Your face contorted in pleasure as he slowly thrusted into you, his cock stretching your walls amazingly. “Fuck—“ Came your strained moan. “Feel so good, sweetheart.” He groaned, his eyes closing. He seated himself deeply inside of you before dragging his cock out, mixing the stinging pain and pleasure. 

“Jensen—please,” You choked out. “I got you baby,” He whispered, looking straight into you and he set out a relentless pace, fucking you hard and fast, your breath coming out in gasps of his name and other profanities that your mind can come up with. “Look at me, (y/n), wanna see you (y/e/c) eyes.” He whispered and you did, meeting his green ones that were intently staring at you. “Love seeing your face when I fuck you.” He added and bucked his hips, making you scream. “Your so tight, sweetheart, gunna come for me?” He murmured, nuzzling his head against your neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses, sucking a marking in the valley of your neck and shoulder. 

“Y—yes! Please!” You moaned and he grunted in response as your walls convulsed around his cock. “Gunna—gunn—!” You couldn’t finish your sentence as he placed his fingers on your clit, rubbing fast in sync with his thrusts, screaming his name in pleasure. He didn’t stop, you didn’t want him to, his grunts were getting louder, his moans were getting deeper and you couldn’t help but squirm underneath him as you felt oversensitive, giving him multiple orgasms. “Gunna fuck a baby in you, sweetheart.” He promised, looking straight into you. “Please—“ You moaned and he leaned down, kissing you hard, swallowing his moan of pleasure as he spilled into you, hot and heavy. 

He hips slowed down and he tried to keep himself up from crushing you. “Hug me, baby.” You murmured and he sighed. “I love you, sweetheart.” He whispered and looked up at you. He wrapped his arms around you and flipped you two around so you were on top of him. He brushed your hair off your face and tucked it behind your ear. “I love you.” You smiled and leaned down to kiss him. “Happy 5th anniversary, green eyes.” You smirked, your tone light and playful. “(Y/e/c) eyes, you’re too cute.” He chuckled and rubbed his nose to yours. “And to more anniversaries, soulmate.” He concluded, kissing you deeply once more. 

Forever Babies:

@incorrect-quoted @deviljoonie @sallyp-53 @ilovefanfic86 @andkatiethings  @malindacath @aunty-peggy @myloveofdean @miss-kristendior @baby7879 @xtina2191 @redsalv20 @hobby27 @fandom-princess-forevermore @jensens-snackles @akshi8278 @shadowkat-83 @onethirstyunicorn @missstartaylor97xx @jesseswartzwelder 

Green-Eyed Lovers:

@brindz30 @polina-93 @flamencodiva​

SPN Babes:

@adoptdontshoppets​ @lilulo-12​ 

[bunnyriviere]

my god i cant get my head out of this mess so imma rant, then MAYBE i can focus on my assignment like damn babe i thought your passion is stats, why are you obsessing over a guy that doesnt care enough. huh? care about stats instead babe!!!!!! i just want to only have to care about maths but i know my life is ruined if i dont have relationships, so i try. but i must suck at it so bad if everything just ends in flame like this, im so tired im teary eyes.

im on my phone and honestly dont know how to do the uh line to cut short the post so if anybody unfortunately see this im sr :(

this is not even about a romantic relationship, i dont even know why i just couldnt like a person like that but damn fine. this is about a male friend i made in grade 11 i guess. i have never liked men. im afraid of them and dont want to have to interact with them ever. i know its bad and i should change but i just really want them away from me im sorry..... so i wasnt even friendly with him, but i was polite, i know how to be a decent person. he was friendly and nice and friends to all which only made me think aw geez just stop being friendly i know this is not because you like me. but i was eating the snack he brought to class anytime he brought it without much thought cause he offered i aint gonna say no. all the while still not consider him a friend. not until a friend said im not being nice if im eating his food while still not seeing him as a friend. and i have always feel bad about not being friendlier towards men in general and he made the 1st move which made it easier for me to just go along. so i did and thats how we became friends.

hes really nice and i mean it. i think really highly of him. maybe its just me having bad luck so i havent met many that are nice?? i really believe they are just myth tbh, im about to settle for that thought. and this guy is really how i wish is the standard for all men. hes just that good, i have no complain. i truly like him and glad that my friend said something cause otherwise we probably wouldnt be friends.

again no romantic feeling. i just have to, remind the invisible audiences of this post i guess.

now we all know covid. and because of it, i couldnt come home and wanted to lay in bed even more than normal. so i didnt push for it when he said he couldnt meet anybody in the summer because he didnt want to accidently give somebody it. just saying that cause this is a 2 ways road right, nothing is ever only his fault, its also mine. i want to rant about my feelings but i dont want to dismiss any mistakes i made yk. so we didnt meet up then.

christmas came and before then we were talking about christmas gift and i didnt wanna any so i didnt prepare anything also. this person is too nice and i dont want him to feel bad. but anw i just thought maybe we can still meet up even if its not for gift exchanging. but i didnt ask or anything at all cause well, hes from here, he has family and friends that are definitely closer to him, and he had work. i know hes busy and if he wanna hang out he know where to find me. i just dont want to accidentally add something more onto his list of to do. he would be too nice to say no. and we are not that close i dont want to add more work for him. i dont have relatives or friends here other than him so im free anytime if he wanted to meet up. but that didnt happen, i dont think we talked at all. which fine i hate to admit but i was hurt. ugh hate showing how vulnerable i am. yuck. yikes. -100/10.

i just didnt think about it? i didnt try to reach out either so that was my fault too but just, if he didnt care then i wont either. so i really didnt think about him anymore.

came reading week! it really was 1 year from the last time i saw him honestly. he asked to meet up and if i want to go somewhere and tbh no im in the countryside rn is that the corect word so there are no place to go. but i remembered this 2ndhand place i like to go sometimes and i hadnt gone in a while so why not. so we agreed on that. and i know he was probably just tired, and there are people who sigh a lot, its not uncommon. but not seeing him for a long while and knowing this is a place i suggested, him doing that really made me feel bad. i probably shouldnt, but couldnt get the thought that he was probably doing this just because hes friendly not because hes friend with me. it fucking sucked. when we got out and he dropped me back at my home i still felt so bad he didnt get to enjoy himself so i asked if we could watch jojo together. yeah he loves jojo. i dont really care for anime im so sr i prefer realing manga lmao sr.

now ok maybe im still being dumb, probably. but tldr i truly believe people can be friends and affectionate even when they are from opposite sex. it didnt work out so well cause i got molested lmao cause some other guy thought that was cool to do. so that honestly worsen my uh wariness of men. but like i said, i think ive said it, i trust this person. honestly i do, we hug a lot and i had never felt afraid of it. i believe he wont do anything. im just really comfortable around him. so we cuddled while watching anime, that had happened before im really sr if you think thats wrong, i still believe that could happen.

but maybe its because i was tense from thinking he really didnt enjoy hanging out with me that much. i kept connecting remembering what the molester did and while i just knew i swear i knew he wouldnt do anything like that, i couldnt get it out of my head. i felt bad for that but there were just 2 things that happened so similar to what happened with the molester. haizz he kinda laced our fingers together but it wasnt handholding, same thing happened once before with m-dude and it felt weird but i didnt want to question that friendship so i didnt. and at some point of jojo i kinda jumped and he held me back, not pulled me back or anything but was holding me in place, and it was probably to make me feel safe but honestly if anybody even use a little bit of force i will just think of when i finally got the courage to turn around to confront the other dude for touching me, he held me back and i couldnt move at all. i think i froze a bit.

argh back to the main story. see how i totally suck? hahaha just blaming this friend for something somebody else did. im so sorry, i suck.

well after that we picked up talking again but idk! was it me overthinking? was it? because it felt like he didnt want to talk to me at all. it was, how to say it. he was friendly yes he talked hmm. damn how-- it felt like he didnt care for what i said. its a feeling idk how to put into words. and that sucks. he didnt seem interested in me before, felt happy enough when we cuddled, then back to being uninterested. i knew i know he doesnt want me romantically. damnit am i only good now for hugs. are we friends? what i meant is not sex but am i only good for physical stuff? i dont fucking know, the m-dude obviously just want a fwb and i was to trusting to notice. is this my gut feeling or my anxiety idk!

another side story. another guy suddenly expressed interested in me right when covid hit but it was because he couldnt get over his ex so i stopped talking to him for a while and picked it back up when i thought he was no longer idk being annoying about it. i thought he had to at least like me as a person to even express he liked me romantically. but apparently not. he looked so uniterested suddenly and denied when i asked, then stopped reading my texts.

so you see. i just cant if haiz ok do- do anybody like me? just as a person? idk.

god i knew i fucking suck for being so sensitive and anxious and im sr for wanting stuff but maybe i want you to look like you care a bit when i said you are reminding me of the m-dude, instead of saying ok we can talk less then. i already felt like you dont want to talk to me, you dont have to say that...

officially crying heyho.

just saying no you dont dont like talking to me when your actions were saying the opposite is not cutting it either... i also thought highly of the covid confession guy too but what happened now. im sorry for comparing you to others! but i learn from experiences... and this was sus... (yah its a joke i cant help it.)

and if i just agreed and stopped talking to him right it just, felt like a confirmation that yeah its true hes just letting me hug him not because im his friend and he knows i like hugs so he lets me. but its more like its convenient that a girl is hugging him so he wont say no. something like that. that sucks. thats all im good for. if i were his friend, it would include the talking too.

ah!! i know we are not close, we are both casual friend. he is definitely not on my top list to tell stuff to but damn i still like him enough to hurt. and to not asking for too much.

so anw i kept talking with the anxiety that never got solved and that made me frustrated and i picked at his insecurity to made him hate me enough to stop talking to me cause i couldnt bring myself to stop, id feel so bad. this is really toxic and i admit this is not the first time ive done it, to a different person but its the same thing.

hahaha act like i hate him while just want him to see how i feel so bad. yeah im a tsundere.

it worked so i stopped talking to him for a week and focused on talking to my other friends. friends i know without a doubt love me and want me because i really didnt feel that with him at all. sorry i know you were tired with covid.

that made me felt better and i was not in panic mode anymore, i can calmly assess things now. and before, i felt bad because i truly believed i was just seeing things, i couldnt see pass my anxiety and was blaming him for what, nothing. he did want to talk to me. but my mind was clearer after that one week and yeah i cant really make more excuses? yes i was sensitive and made things worse, but there must be something for me to pick up first. it didnt just come out of thin air.

so i sent him some texts saying that, because just leaving without a word is bad communication. i have to tell him and at least give him a chance to change i guess? did he need change? im doubting myself.

i- hm he just said yeah his look and way of talking really make him look like hes tired and uninterested, and laughed at my marie kondo joke. you know the one. idk! all i saw in that was yeah thats how it is, accept it. and i-- i, cant? i dont want to... i dont want to :(

but my mindset for just about anything is value the process, not the result, like as long as you put work in! thats great! and he- he was, talking... he put work in..... i would feel so bad to deny it. but at the same time, it was not enough... i hate! to say you need to do at least this and that! but it didnt feel like enough..... im sorry :(((( i am.

ive talked about my tendency to lash out. last time i didnt want it but i had to get away quick so i didnt mean it but i still did it. but this time i was truly angry. because i just wished there was more care for me but i know that was all there was, and i couldnt do anything about it. couldnt even ignore him. he was even drier then, and i got it, i lashed out at him, ofc he wasnt going to be friendly. but just why were you trying so hard... no, no it was not trying hard, you were answering texts at the speed of once every 2 days. why were you answering at all? you clearly didnt want to. but again so was i. did i really have a say.

so i sent angry texts at him. about how fake his friendliness was, did he really consider me friend, why did he keep saying no it was not that he was uninterested while it was obvious that he was. also that i want to fight him. i really do want to. hopefully he will beat me up hard enough that i can be in a coma and die in 9 months idk. (listen 9 months is enough time to make a new human, if im not awake by then, you need to let me go, thats my wish.)

he said that no he doesnt like to fight and thats the last text i got from him.

because ofc i dont hate him him, the whole him idk what im saying. just angry and hate that hes not matching me on how we value this relationship i guess. not besties like how he likes to joke, but eh, was hoping more than what i was sensing. i still sent a text being like ok fine do you still want to talk and if so how do you want me to do. but he didnt answer it in time so i decided for him that nah we wont talk anymore.

heyho i was sad, i am sad. and ok hear me out, HEAR ME, i dont use tarot for future but just for my feelings and how to deal with them, and my deck said ok babe this is the end, you will have to move on now. so i will.

tbh lmao for every relationships that i emotionally invested in. i always make an essay on my feelings because thats how i conclude things, and so i wont forget that my feelings are legit. so the moment i started this post, hes dead to me i guess.

wow this post is long. but i did really like him so.

im moving to uni city next month but i know he will leave in the summer so i wont have to worry about seeing him then. and probably not further in the future either, we go to different uni and are quite far away and our common are not gonna question things i dont think. dont think they would even notice, we are not in a group or anything. and even if i do end up meeting him. my feelings while was anger, but it stemmed from sadness and disappointment so it wouldnt be too bad. on the other hand... m-dude..... i am afraid of meeting you, lets please please please not meet damnit.

[rurifangirl]

so 3 asks per oc💅💅

kayn

🥝 What does a bad mental health day look like for your OC? Walk us through it with them. What kind of things can help them out of this slump and what kinds of things comfort them when they start to feel like this?

🍋 Does your OC act petty and jealous easily? What sort of things make them feel like this and do they experience guilt for getting so worked up? How do they deal with these emotions when they get them? If your OC doesn’t feel like this often, why not?

⭐ What is your OC afraid of? Any crippling phobias or some such? How do they act when scared and what helps them calm down? Does anyone ever find your OC scary? Why?

rui

💋 How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying their affection? Why?

💖 Has your OC ever been in love, be it romantic or platonic or otherwise? Who with and did they ever express their feelings or keep it private? How long did these feelings persist / do they still feel this way?

🍋 Does your OC act petty and jealous easily? What sort of things make them feel like this and do they experience guilt for getting so worked up? How do they deal with these emotions when they get them? If your OC doesn’t feel like this often, why not?

goodluck w this💅💅

AAAAAAAAA IWJJDKDJD

(it's cuz i gotta think rn😔✋)

Kayn

🥝-

Oh boy, I've kinda thought bout It, but like not till this level, so now I'm gonna write a bit bout It n hopefully answering. So, since we know that despite y'know Kayn being the ray of sunshine he still has a lot of problems w his mental health, mainly cuz of Osho, so It ain't gonna be good already. The main difference would be pretty much physically, as he wouldn't really be ready to do most stuff he could do normally, but he would try to like hide it n just say he couldn't sleep to not allarm anyone, like everythings fine, n that would work most of the time cuz It ain't that uncommon w him. He'd try to either get comfort in his own room and trying to convince himself that he's fine, trying to get food n hope for the best, as in the worst cases, yeah...breakdown. But like, really loud so in these cases he can get more assistance and getting more help from others.(and actually tell bout them, like dude they care bout ya u idiot >:[) Then again, somethin that would comfort him even in this situation Is either physical contact or just not being alone durin these days, so that's mainly It. I could change this in the future cuz I'm not fully sure, so in any case just know this ain't set in stone.

🍋-

Kind of? I can say petty but mainly cuz of Chisei, but i ain't really sure bout jelousy. It's true that he probably envies other's strenght, but he really wouldn't mind It that much, it's more of a "i wish that were me :(" kind of situation, but nothin more than it. And let bb be petty, that'd be hilarious 😭

⭐-

Yeah, quite a lot tbh. Like for instance the fear of dark cuz...yeah we know. (Basically still Osho but like, arguably worse) N the fear of being left behind Is also on the run, n cuz of that he's extremely affectionate. Oh n yeah...Black Swan, but It ain't much of a surprise either, everything happened all there so. There's nothing much he could do to calm himself down if not to curl up n really hope that holding himself back could work. Spoiler, It doesn't. But in these cases it's better off just knowing there's someone able to give him assistance on breathing, that's the only thing that would help.

Rui

💋-

Yeah, they're affectionate w their friends tho. (It ain't cute w their parents, like at all.) It's more of an emotional support, as like they never really learned how to physically interact, so it's really akward whenever you hug em, like it's not they don't want It, it's just that ya basically leave em like this🧍 litteraly like that. So it's hard for em to understand physical contact, so give em time.

💖-

In both ways actually 🤩 I was planning to let them have a platonic dynamic w another oc while having a whole nother romantic w another, but i still have to look more into both of em tbh. But I can already say that the romantic Is kind of private to them, but then again, they'd still be hesitant, so Rui would definetly meed a lot of time before they'd get into a relationship. But if they would, they'd be more of the emotional support, so ya could see em supportin the shit outta ya honestly. Same goes for the platonic tho.

🍋-

They'd be hella petty but like, in a more teasing way. Considering how bad they've been treated it's the minimum they could get really. All the passive agressive way babyy 🤩(jwkejd the difference Is that they actually can get petty but like kayn tries, he tried his best but😭)

[doctor243]

The Girl Who Cried Wolf Chapter 6

Summary: 5 times MJ says ‘I love you’ and 1 time Peter says it back.

Characters: Michelle Jones, Peter Parker, Ned Leeds

AO3: Here

MJ knew she had a crush on Peter. Ned knew that she had a crush on Peter. In fact, the only person that seemed to be oblivious that she liked Peter, was Peter himself. But she was fine with that, because she didn’t need him to know. She was more than content to be his best friend, the girl who kept him on his toes and support him from the sidelines. Becoming an independent self-made woman wasn’t easy, and having a boyfriend would change the image that she’d worked so hard to build for herself. If only his damned smile from his damned frog-concealing mouth on his damned face weren’t so goddamned cute, she wouldn’t have a hard time holding herself back.

“What’s up, Loser?” she greeted, bumping into his shoulder affectionately on her way to her locker, and he turned around with a grin (goddammit Parker) on his face.

“MJ!” he squeaked, closing his locker and slinging his backpack over his shoulder. “How was the protest?”

“It was good,” she drawled as they walked together. “Nothing much has changed, but at least we got our voices heard.” Over the weekend, she’d participated in a protest against Big Pharma and it’s ridiculously unfair and sexist prices of everyday medicines. She hadn’t told him that she was going, but of course he knew – he was Peter frickin’ Parker.

“I wanted to go too,” he sighed. “But Mr Stark wanted me upstate to work on some stuff.” She snorted at that. Stuff.

“Why would you even go?” She asked, stopping in front of her locker and picking out her books. “Don’t you burn through normal medicines cuz of your crazy metabolism?”

“Well yeah!” He huffed, eyebrows scrunched up in frustration (goddammit Parker). “But that doesn’t make what they’re doing right, y’know?” And this. This, ladies and gentlemen, was why MJ was in love with the resident DorkTM who spent his free time parading New York in a red and blue onesie. Now she had to kill him before she kissed him.

“Guys!” The duo turned their heads.

“Ned!” Peter brightened, rushing over as the two exchanged their secret handshake while MJ silently took another guess at how long it must have taken them to perfect it.

“‘sup Nerd?” She reached over and gave him a hug.

“Oh my god,” Ned groaned. “I slept so late cuz of the freakin’ History essay.”

MJ froze. Oh no. “The History Essay?” She asked slowly. Oh no. Please don’t be due today. Please. Don’t. Be. Due. Today.

“Yeah!” Ned continued, oblivious to the colour draining from her face. “How is it fair to give us a weekend to do 6 pages?”

Fuck.

She’d been so preoccupied prepping for the protest and writing her speech (that went flawlessly, if she could say so herself) that she’d forgotten freaking homework.

“MJ?” She turned her head to see Peter looking at her with concern. “You ok there?”

“Um…” She stammered. “I… I might have forgotten to do it…”

“WHAT?!” Ned screeched, his cheeks wobbling slightly as his hands flew to his hair.

“I was busy prepping for the protest okay??” She argued. Think, MJ, she counselled herself. You could probably bribe Mr I-don’t-know-how-to-teach-History. What do you have to offer? Okay maybe murder would be better. No, no, no. Too far.  

Ned was still freaking out, bless the Mother Hen. “But this is 40 per cent of our grade!”

“Gee, thanks for the reminder, Nerd!” She loved him, but God she needed to think.  

“Um…” A small, forgotten voice belonging to a small Peter Parker spoke up. “You can use my outline.”

Her heart stopped as she slowly turned to look at Peter. And then it returned with a vengeance, slamming against her ribcage. Sweet, sweet Peter Parker. No one deserved him. Why did he make it so difficult for her to deny or depress her feelings for him? Stop being so goddamn perfect for crying our loud. However, the silence must have been making him self-conscious, because he started rambling.  

“WELL, I mean I’ve got some extra quotes that I didn’t use, and I know that you’re a genius so you’ll be able to write it so it doesn’t come out as plagiarism. Not that you, of all people, would plagiarise, but I’ve pretty much outlined the arguments and the necessary facts and highlighted the quotes that I used so you can use the others.” His face was growing pinker by the second, and MJ was relishing in every single one. “I know you probably have a back-up plan, and don’t need my help, so I’m gonna shut up n-”

“I love you.”

She froze. She’d spat the words out before her brain had even processed what her heart had longed to say for years. This was not part of the plan. This was never going to be part of the plan. She was sure Ned was gaping like a fish in the background, but her mind was ferociously working to fix the damage done by her traitorous lips. Should she knock him out? No, Ned was a witness as well. Run? Then he would know that she meant it. Wait for him to react and plan from there. Now you’re talking.

“Wh-what?” Well, that wasn’t exactly what she’d expected. “Really?”

She looked at his wide eyes and stiffness, as though he couldn’t believe what he’d heard. As she observed his fist clenched tightly on his backpack strap, and his jaw muscles working overtime, the first conclusion that her mind came to was the one she chose – he doesn’t like me back; not like that.

“Dude, don’t get an aneurism, it was a joke.”  

Immediately the hope in his eyes shattered like a glass window, and the impact nearly forced the breath out of her lungs. Hold your front, she counselled herself.

“Uh-um. Right. Haha,” he laughed awkwardly. “Of course! Ha…Ha!” The way his eyes darted around, looking at anything but her face unsettled her and she sighed inwardly. Sometimes she wished she wasn’t such a brilliant actor.

She rolled her eyes, carefully blinking away the stinging in her eyes. “Outline? You were saying?”  

“Right! Right! Here you go!” Before she knew it, the outline was in her hand and she was alone, Peter having hurried off with Ned hot on his heels.

“This is bad,” she whispered to no one. “This is very bad.”

Previous Chapter: Here

Next Chapter: Here

Masterlist: Here

Tags: @you-guys--are-losers​ @spideychelleforever​ @spideychelleee​ @spidermaninlove​ @tonystarkissist​ @spideychellefics​

[thebutterflyranger]

We all know this but I want to give you a reason to talk about Will: your favourite fictional character and why you love them

*Breathes in* Apologies, but this is gonna be a very long post. 

John Flanagan has done a lot wrong - so many things that I will never forgive him for. But one thing he did so right, is my man Will Treaty from book 1-11. I know he seems like an average main character, but to me, he is way more than that. He is the embodiment of an imperfectly perfect person. I could talk about him in-depth, including all the headcanons and analysis, but to make it simple, I’ll just focus on the canon. 

Why Will Treaty is the fictional love of my life:

1. He is incredibly strong not just physically which he really is idk why people sleep on that but the mental perseverance that is shown throughout the entire series. From the first book to the end. His life is so tough, more than we can really fathom, and yet he pushes through it all. 

2. His curiosity is very cute to me. Like the fact that he wants to know everything, but not in an annoying way...his mind is just trying to absorb everything at all times. 

3. His ability to catch things on really fast. Like, not much gets past him at all. And once he got something,,,he got it. Halt said it, and so did Berrigan. Whether its picking up songs, or that little coin trick, or a bird whistle. He is quick.

4. His respect for his elders. Whether its Halt or Crowley or Arald or anyone. He is the classic good-boi who just wants the adults to be proud of him. All jokes aside, he is probably the last person to do anything that would remotely make Halt upset. He makes jokes and is light, but never crosses the unspoken line.

5. His sense of humor. Lmfao because he is funny as shit and witty as fuck. That joke about a good knight’s sleep? A riot. Lmfao at I love that he just wants people around him to laugh, and he knows what to say to lighten up the mood.

6. The fact that he always seems to know the time and place for things. He knows when to get serious and when to crack a joke. He very rarely says things out of turn, and when he does he backtracks instantly. You won’t catch Will saying something insensitive or rash. It's shown several times that he makes people around him comfortable by just being around them.

7. THE WAY HE TREATS THE WOMEN IN HIS LIFE. All of the women he has interacted with….ooofh he exudes big feminist energy. From his respect and love for Pauline; calling her “Lady” until she tells him not to, making promises to her that he remembers throughout his mission. The modesty and respect he had for Edwina - and the fact that she took an instant liking to him. His interactions with Jenny - the way he compliments her and makes her feel better about herself, the way he is a literal brother to her. Even Cassandra; the way he took care of her and gave her comfort when she needed it, and afterward how he always had respect for her. Ceilma!!! Delia!!! He is Good to all of them. And then there is Alyss.

8. There are several things about his relationship with Alyss, besides the fact that he would legit commit treason for her, that GET ME IN THE SOUL:

a. The fact that he would go miles out of his way to make her feel loved and not alone. He signaled to her for DAYS in Macindaw, with no reply back from her and no guarantee that she would reach out. But he made sure he would be there if and when she did.

b. The fact that she knows he would wait for her patiently. Like No rush. Take your time baby.

c. The fact that he is a strong enough man to marry an intelligent and highly capable and strong woman like her

d. The fact that he is protective of her, but has no doubt in her ability. The only reason he is reluctant when she goes on missions...is because he loves her and doesn’t want anything to happen to her.

e. He is super affectionate. Holding hands, kissing, hugging. Ahem, I love that for him.

9. His readiness for death. It gets me every time, how he is in the heat of battle and fighting for his life, but the moment he realizes there is no way he can get out of the situation alive...he relaxes. He closes his eyes and waits calmly, seemingly at peace. It is eerily beautiful to me. 

10. His selflessness. Putting his life on the line for others - over and over again. He did it for Halt, he did it for Horace, he did it for Alyss. 

11. He is perfect Husband Material (see 12-17)

12. He can cook. Very well. As Alyss said: Get you a mans that can cook

13. And he can clean, AND he is organized? O h?

14. He can sing too??

15. Oh btw he can also play an instrument.

16. I forgot to mention that he is very good with young kids.  

17. He is loyal as fuck. Won’r cheat, the thought won’t even cross his mind.

18. He is smart as hell. The decision making, the planning, the ambition of his ideas. His innovation. description of his quick mind is just ahskajkh. The fact that Halt would choose him over Gilan and Crowley because of how quick he is (and because that’s his literal son) just gets me. His vocabulary is out of this world - which has convinced me that he is an avid reader. His ability to put two-and-two together almost immediately

19. He has a temper, but when it’s valid and necessary. You hurt the people he loves? He will murder you. You cause harm to innocent people? He will reign justice on you. You annoy the fuck out of him? Best believe he will whOOP YOUR ASS. He is no innocent timid pushover. Things will bother him, and he will lash out. He is human. It’s normal. It’s hot.

20. His love for animals. The way he is with Tug is so heartwarmingly endearing. He genuinely loves him and considers him his friend. The conversations they have together. And his care for his dogs is so adorable I can’t. The way he trained Shadow and Ebony to do those cute things...you know he would be a great father.

21. The energy he gives off to other people. Throughout the series you have people who have only interacted with him briefly, thinking about the pleasantness of him. He is just a good guy and people seem to be comfortable around him. He makes them smile, his face puts them at ease, he speaks softly. Whether it’s the boat keeper at Seacliffe, Umar and Ceilma at Arrida, or Malcolm, or the multiple farmer families he interacts with - they always mention how respectful and lovely he is.

22. His care and love for Horace. Their banter and ease with each other. The fact that he would kill and die for him. The fact that Will wishes Horace could live next to him. Its that classic cute “I-want-to-hang-out-with-my-best-friend-all-the-time-cuz-he-make-me-happy. 

23. His relationship with Halt. I need a whole separate post for this.

24. His humility. From his aversion to attention to his inability to take a compliment, to him being watchful of sounding boastful or arrogant. And the fact that he doesn’t even realize how his name and image has impacted thousands of people. He is a whole legend...and he don’t even know.

25. The fact that he is the most capable and skilled Ranger there is. Periodt. I don’t want no one to @ me. You know I’m right. At his peak, he was the best in the history of the Corps.

26. Will is adorkable. The corny jokes he makes, the fact that he talks to his horses, the fact that he doesn’t realize that he is a pull god. Cutie. 10/10 would die for the dude.

27. The fact that he is clumsy when it comes to food. That is me. If food is in my hands, 9 times out of 10 it gets in somewhere on my clothes.

28. His coffee addiction. It geeks me so hard how he literally can’t help himself. He want. He is tired and he just want the coffee. Give it to him

29. His hatred of goodbyes. Idk i just think it’s heartbreaking but also very touching how he doesn’t look back when riding away from someone.

30. The fact that he isn’t afraid to show emotions. I don’t see very much, if any, toxic masculinity in Will. He is manly in his physique and power, but also in that he is comfortable in showing his emotions. He is a strong enough man that he married a strong woman. He doesn’t shy away from saying he is scared, or worried, or anxious. He tells Halt or Alyss all his feelings, without worrying about sounding weak. He openly cries many times throughout the books.

Ummm these are all that I can think off the top of my head.

[boymeetsweevil]

For Science 5/7

Grouping: Reader x Nerd!JK 

Word Count: 17.5k haha wtf (NSFW)

Warnings/Themes: omg okay swearing, Boobies, graphic-ish Cunnilingus, endangement of Hoseok’s chin, Spit :/, Masturbation, mentions of porn haha, Making out, (Hoseok’s) male gaze??? Idiot!Kook, Jealous!Kook, Violence? (lmao it was very mild violence and mention of blood but not graphic), gratuitous use of soap-opera level drama

Summary: Jungkook asks you to let him watch you get off. For science.

A/N: I’m tagging  @m-icdrop , @jiminslye , @ephemeral-mindset, @sugarandpoppy, @monstar95, @sweetestkth, @limitlesxxsxx, @simplyfinessin, @park-geemin to let you know that this is here! If any of you would like to stop being tagged with each FS update, let me know. And if anyone would like to be added to the tag list, also let me know :)

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6, part 7

Being a good friend, as you’re realizing now, is so terribly hard and you wish someone had told you earlier in life so you could make the informed choice of becoming a nun. Or maybe just a plain old hermit.

Either way, waking up in the middle of Yoori’s bedroom finds you feeling less rested than you would have liked. Probably because you dreamt that you had been transfigured into a dog by Hoseok wearing a witch’s costume and forced to be the family pet to Yoori and Jungkook’s 16 children. You end up waking with a jolt, still in Yoori’s bed and covered in cold sweat, wanting nothing more than to go home and leave everything at school behind. 

Still, you soldier through the rest of the night, staring at your laptop instead of doing work, only eating half of the pizza she ordered for you and numbly carrying a large Tupperware container that held the leftovers back to your apartment.

You end up eating the pizza for breakfast the following morning in some meagre effort to comfort yourself. Nothing helps, though. Not using the special body wash that you usually reserved for special occasions. Not putting on the velvet joggers you wore when you needed a pick-me-up. So, you try going in the opposite direction. Instead of putting in extra effort, you put in zero. You don’t bother stressing about putting your hair into an intricate style so you’ll look more put together. You don’t bother trying to buff your skin to a shining, baby glow. Instead you slather your face in moisturizer and throw your hair into a bun, which seems to do the trick. Giving up on some of the tinier details that would often gnaw at the edges of your collectedness improves your mood slightly. So does taking the rest of the pizza in with you for lunch.

The universe takes pity on you and the day goes by quickly. On Friday, It feels almost as though you only blinked but now the sun was setting around 4:30, as had become habit.

You wipe the drool that was pooling at the corner of your mouth while you tried some old number theory problem sets from a class you took freshman year. It had been difficult because you’d forgotten how shitty proofs can be, but it had also been just the time sink you needed.

Coming to the usual study spot you and Yoori established a few hours prior was bittersweet. Normally she would be there, perhaps with a steaming mug of something calming waiting for you, ready to work in companionable silence with gossip breaks sprinkled in between. Today, she wasn’t there, so you had the whole table to yourself. You sit in her chair to throw some novelty into the mix. And because you miss her. But now that your momentum is broken, you decide to turn to the window instead of people watching. Even though there’s none of the softly falling snow Yoori always raves about, the view is still nice.

The last few rays of the winter sun are stretching out, leaving the campus bathed in blood orange light and catching the reflective parts of the packed snow on the ground. There’s something picturesque about the way the campus pond, now frozen, sits in the center of the landscape and frames the sheet of mountains running in the distance. But it feels very lonely as well.  

You check your phone and find no text messages from Jungkook and only one from Yoori asking if you have plans for Saturday night. You tell her no and begin packing up.

Normally, you’re not a big going out person, but you find your lack of plans for this weekend a little bothersome. You know Jungkook and Yoori will obviously be busy that evening, and perhaps even the whole weekend. But that leaves you with Taehyung and Hoseok to have a good time and the prospects for that seem weak. You try sending a text to the two of them asking if a bar sounded like a fun idea but Hoseok messages back that he already bought drinks for tonight. You suppose you’ll have to try again next weekend.

Taehyung’s words of assurance about how Jungkook suddenly getting a girlfriend wouldn’t change the group dynamic float into you’re head. But you’re not so sure you believe them in this moment. Things don’t seem as fun and you’re not sure if it’s just because you’ve spent the whole day moping or if it’s because Jungkook has been carrying the group dynamic on his back the whole time and you never even noticed until now.

It’s a frightening thought and it’s also a little unfair to Hoseok and Taehyung. Although you’re not as close to them as you are to Jungkook, it’s not like they’re strangers. You’ve spent a great deal of time on your own with both of them, and even though you fight with Hoseok from time to time, you have made some nice memories with the both of them.

As you walk to Taehyung’s apartment for game night, you’re reminded of the times you’ve spent with the both of them. Like when you needed to fulfill your PE requirement for the year, so you and Hoseok took a snowboarding class together. You can admit, albeit reluctantly, that you bonded over many nights of numb toes and icing each other’s injuries. There’s also the time that you and Taehyung thought learning Russian would be a fun idea. You ended up leaving the Russian club after the first weekly meeting, but Taehyung still goes and is now the club Treasurer. It had been a fun hour of your life, though.

“Hey,” Taehyung chirps when you finally arrive at his apartment.

“Hey!” You fling yourself at him, full of emotion from the walk down memory lane you just took. He’s stiff in your arms for a moment, but settles into the hug after a beat.

“What’s this all about?” He chuckles, patting your back affectionately.

You extricate yourself from him and drop your things at the doorway before turning to Hoseok with a determined look. He snorts at you but doesn’t try to hide from your grabby hands, much to your surprise.

“I just wanted to let you guys know that I’m really glad we’re all friends. You mean a lot to me,” you mumble into the collar of Hoseok’s shirt as you press wrap him in a sincere hug.

“Are you not wearing a bra?”

“Except you,” you push him off you roughly. “Not you. I don’t like you.”

“Aw, come on!” He grins wryly at you from the floor. “You know you like me.”

You make a show of brushing the residue of your hug off the thin and oversized sweater you’re wearing. “No, sorry. I was a different person 20 seconds ago. I’ve changed. I’m better now.”

Hoseok hops up and chases you around Taehyung’s tiny dining room table until he manages to trap you in a corner by the kitchen entrance and wrangle you into a bear hug. You play dead to deter him, but instead he just laughs at the limp way your feet drag on the floor and waddles with you still in his grasp to the living room. Taehyung looks for the right game to play.

He chooses Wii Resort, which is not even remotely close to being your favorite, so you sit out and let the third controller lay unused on the ground. Instead you find yourself seated with your back against Hoseok’s chest in the La-Z boy, feet stretched out to rest in Taehyung’s lap as he sits on the matching ottoman.

“It’s fucking freezing in here,” you whine.

“I told you to wear layers. I’m trying to lower my utility bill,” is all Taehyung says as he moves his mii into yet another jungle setting for a mini game.

You pout. “This sucks.”

“It really doesn’t,” Hoseok interjects, “This is one of the better game nights we’ve had in a while.”

“You’re just saying that because this is the only time you’ve been able to win at a game.”

“Be nice to Hobi.” One of Taehyung’s hands drop down to dig into the arch of your foot as a warning. You squeal, knee kicking out wildly and without your permission, forcing your head to crack back against Hoseok’s chin.

“Ow! Fuck! What the hell is wrong with you, Tae?” Hoseok reaches up to clutch at his face, controller falling into your lap.

“Dude, I was defending you! How is this my fault?”

“You know it’s against the rules to tickle her when another person’s nearby unless it’s a tag-team.” He whines and taps you on the shoulder. You turn to face him sheepishly, knowing it’s partially your fault too. “Am I bleeding?”

“Thankfully, no,” you coo after a careful inspection. “But if that were any higher up on my leg, I don’t think you’d still have a face.”

“I know.” 

You pat his hair soothingly, but turn back around soon after Hoseok stops cradling his face. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

“We can’t! I’m not even buzzed yet. And we haven’t gone all the way around the board.”

“Tae, this game is trash. I don’t want to just sit and watch.”

He waves a hand dismissively, unpausing the game without even looking at you. “It’s not my fault you’re a fake Nintendo fan.”

“Ooh, are you gonna take that,” Hoseok’s eyes widen at Taehyung’s comment.

“I’m not even gonna dignify that with a response,” you sniff. Reaching out, you grab at the closest, non-empty beer bottle you can reach and take a swig. “But I am gonna get going so you can enjoy your shitty game by yourselves.”

“Come on!” Hoseok whines again from above you and from your vantage point it looks like his face is starting to swell. You silently hope that it doesn’t get bad until after you leave. “You can’t leave. Then it’ll just be two guys playing Wii resort.”

“Arriving in 13 minutes.” You burrow further into his chest to steal some warmth for a minute. You vow that the first thing you’re doing once you get home is taking a hot shower.

“Let her go, Hob. She’s not cool like us.”

Taehyung’s Mii reaches the top of the mountain at that moment. The victory cry he releases is entirely too loud and definitely not appropriate for someone only playing Wii Resort. He gets up from his chair and starts gyrating at the TV where Hoseok’s mii is crying large blue tears.

“Congrats on your victory. I’m out.”

The ride home turns out to be less relieving and more depressing as you get closer and closer to your apartment. Jungkook and Yoori are probably somewhere having an amazing date and will probably then go have amazing virginal sex in the backseat of Hoseok’s frat brothers’ car that Jungkook borrowed for the occasion. Taehyung and Hoseok actually like Wii Resort and will probably spend the rest of the night getting drunk off their asses playing that and having more fun than is objectively reasonable. Meanwhile you will probably stand naked and shivering in your bathroom for, like, 8 whole minutes waiting for hot water to make it through your plumbing.

Nothing like depressing thoughts to start your weekend off well.

Perhaps the universe decided to take pity on you once again because when you get home and disrobe, you only have to wait 6 minutes for the hot water. And it doesn’t run out after another 5. You also let yourself sing loudly to your Spotify ballad playlist titled ‘lady heartbreak’. Normally, you only cry to that playlist, so you think of it as personal growth.

Once you’re out the shower and your voice is hoarse from the ‘singing’, you change into light pajamas. Despite the fact that your heater is fixed, you still keep it firing at almost full blast because you prefer the heat to the cold.

Before you can flip back the covers on your bed when you hear a loud knock on your door. You figure its either Taehyung or Hoseok, or both of them, looking for something to do now that the game has lost its charm after a million rounds. But a quick glance at your phone shows no text messages from them saying that they’d be stopping by, which they usually do. The door thumps like someone’s body is slamming against it and you pray that its one of your stupid friends just being inconsiderate and disorderly.

You’re about to leave your room to see who’s at your door when another loud sound startles you. Its as if someone is carefully trying to rattle the window leading to your fire escape. All the while the loud knocking at your front door continues to ring through the apartment. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you’re certain you saw a news special about something like this. Pairs of burglars come to innocent women’s houses after they’ve stalked them long enough to learn their schedule and see if they live alone. Then they both show up to the house at different spots to distract the victim and break in more efficiently.

In this scenario, you’re certain they’re expecting you to go to the front door. But you’re smart, dammit. You decide to give them a surprise and approach the window first instead, phone clutched in your hand with the police a button-press away. You yank back the curtains and quickly activate your flashlight mode to see who is trying to break into your house. The pair of wide eyes that greet you back almost make your drop your phone.

“Jungkook,” you hiss incredulously.

Carefully, you unlock your window and slide it up so he can climb off the fire escape and collapse face first into your room. Clearly, he is slightly inebriated.

“What are you doing here?”

“Shh,” he sticks a finger into your face, “She’ll hear you.”

“Who’ll hear me?”

The apartment is eerily quiet when you realize that the loud knocking is replaced by jingling of keys and the sound of the front door being pushed open.

“Jeon Jungkook, who the hell is that in my house?”

“It’s Yoori,” he whispers with genuine fear in his eyes. “Crap!”

You can’t do much besides react on auto-pilot and pull back the many blankets and comforters lining your bed for him to dive under. The sound of Yoori’s slow, stumbling footsteps as they make their way into the heart of the apartment are better than any horror movie soundtrack. You find yourself diving into bed too, knees bent, hoping that you look casual and can hide Jungkook’s shape. He pokes his head out and grins at you from the shadows between your bare knees.

“Is anyone home,” Yoori calls from somewhere in the living room.

“I’m in my bedroom,” you respond. “It’s the last door on the right in the hallway.

A few moments later, Yoori is peering curiously from behind your door. You realize she still hasn’t seen your room despite the fact that she’s been to your apartment in passing a couple of times now.

“Hey, Yoori.”

“Hey. Wow,” she hiccups, “This is very you. I like the tapestries.” She turns in a circle to take in all of your room’s décor.

“Yep. So, uh, what brings you here?”

“I asked Jungkookie to drop me off here.”

“Oh, you did? Where is Jungkookie now,” you ask neutrally before casting a brief but discrete annoyed look down at Jungkook’s semi-visible face under the covers.

“I think he’s probably filling up the car’s tank. He has to return it to the fraternity before it gets too late.”

“He didn’t want to come in with you?”

“No. I told him I wanted to have some girl time with you to talk about the date. But then I got to your door and remembered that you don’t like to talk about romantic stuff like that.”

You shove your hands down into your lap and over his face so he can’t see the way yours heats up in embarrassment.

“W-well that’s just because he’s my good friend, you know. I didn’t mean much by that.”

“It’s okay, I understand.” She smiles down at you sleepily before walking over and moving like she’s going to sit with you in bed.

“Um, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you shoot your hands out to keep her sitting.

“Why not?”

She pouts softly down at you. You wince knowing that her feet probably hurt from a night in heels and all she wants to do is sit to rest. But your loyalty lies elsewhere at the moment.

“Because…I have no pants on.”

“Really?” She grins and peeks down like she hopes to see through the blanket covering your lap. “That’s okay with me. You probably don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. And if you did, who cares?”

You decide that you won’t probe her about that and instead redirect the conversation.

“Yeah, but I’m kind of shy when it comes to that stuff.”

“That’s right. I forgot.” Yoori sighs sadly. “Maybe one day we’ll get there. That should be our next friendship goal. Getting you to feel less shy around me.”

“Y-yeah, okay.”

You watch as she swings her heels tiredly in her hand and searches for a nearby cab. She finds one relatively quickly and gives you a one-armed hug around your shoulders before scooping heading out. You wait a few more minutes, just in case she magically returns for something she left behind despite the fact that she left the spare key on your bedside desk and the front door locks from the inside automatically. Once you’re certain you won’t be found out, you rip the sheets back angrily.

“Explain yourself quickly, Jeon.”

Jungkook squints up at you now that the dark cover of your blankets isn’t shielding his eyes anymore. He’s lying on his stomach between your bent legs, propped up on his elbows. It’s a compromising position that you’re glad Yoori didn’t catch you in.

“I told her I needed to fill the tank, but I told her I was doing it at the gas station on 5th street instead of the one across the street from here.” He grins up at your cheekily like he’s done something extra clever.

“Yeah, I figured as much. But why did you do that? And then why did you risk falling 20 feet to climb up the fire escape and come in through the window.”

“I wanted to hang out. I feel like we haven’t seen each other in a while.” His hand reaches out to stroke at the expanse of your bare thigh.

“Jungkook, you’re dating Yoori,” you sigh and move your leg away. “The weekend stays are over now.”

“We’re taking it slow, though.”

“Not slow enough for this to still be a thing.”

“It is slow enough.” At your raised eyebrows, he stammers. “We-we haven’t even held hands yet.”

“Really,” you can’t help but ask. The pang of satisfaction you feel knowing that Jungkook still hasn’t taken things further with Yoori makes you feel a bit guilty. But you can’t help it.

“Really. So we can still do this, right?”

“I don’t know, Kook.” Your lip ends up tucked between your teeth in indecisiveness.

“Please? I missed you,” he whispers quietly. It’s all you’ve ever wanted to hear from him and you give a quick nod lest you start shrieking from joy if you open your mouth.

He shuffles until he can pull you closer by the hips. When you’re on a slight incline, your multiple pillows holding you up, Jungkook removes his glasses. You watch silently as he places them next to the spare keys before leaning into your space, eyes dropping closed.

You let your jaw relax in anticipation of his mouth. But you’re surprised when the first thing you feel is the dry press of his lips to your cheek. It’s sweeter than you were expecting, but you’re not complaining. Eventually he makes his way over to your mouth and begins kissing you in earnest. Small pecks transform into languid caresses of his lips over yours. Your tongue comes out to swipe at the seam of his lips and he immediately opens up to let you in, groaning at the feeling of you in his mouth.

He lets a sharp breath leave his nose and surges forward, pressing himself to you as close as he can after having shuffled you even closer so he could lean over you. When you suck on his bottom lip, he lets out a low snarling sound. His hands come down to clamp onto your waist like a warm vice. Carefully, you entangle the fingers of one hand in his hair, while the other smooths down the curve of his broad shoulders. The feeling of the muscles in his back flexing under your hand is a feeling you didn’t realize you could take for granted. But somehow you have because its amazing to have it back.

The two of you make out for a while. Jungkook tastes of dessert wine and cheesecake. Its not necessarily a combination that you find unpleasant, but it reminds you that he just came back from a date. And while he left that date and came straight to you, you still don’t like it. You kiss him harder with the hopes that it’ll take away the remnants of his time out with another girl. A girl who is your friend. He whines and lets you ravage his mouth. Little do you know that each swipe of your tongue against his own has his growing harder in his slacks.

“Wait a minute,” he gasps against your mouth before slowing down a bit by planting small kisses on the hinge of your jaw and the soft skin of your throat.

“Too fast?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles bashfully.

You’re content to let him come back down from his fast-approaching high by sucking lightly on the skin near the collar of your white tshirt. There will probably be some light bruising that you’ll have to cover up if you’re still going out with Yoori tomorrow, but you don’t care about that right now. Instead you’d rather revel in the sensation of Jungkook’s traveling kisses. Though they started at the hollow of your throat, they’ve collected on your clavicle and he’s now trailing them over the fabric of your shirt by your sternum. It’s sweet.

And then its suddenly not so sweet as you feel his heated breaths puff over your nipple.

Obviously, you’re turned on and you’re not wearing a bra because you thought you were going straight to sleep. So its completely understandable why your nipples would be hard, then. What you’re not certain of is what Jungkook is planning. He’s no longer continuously pressing kisses into the shirt and is now sporadically planting them around the stiff peak that is raising your shirt material slightly, just breathing heavily over it. The heat you feel doesn’t do anything to calm you down and instead it has you squirming in his hold.

One of his hands comes up to rest some of his weight on your shoulder, effectively keeping you flat to the bed. A quick glance at him has your breath hitching loudly in your throat. He’s staring intently down at your breast, like he’s trying to make a tough choice. The moment is so thick that you don’t dare move. Not to encourage him nor to inquire what he plans. Instead you lay with bated breath, watching him slowly descend the last few inches. You squeeze your eyes shut milliseconds before his mouth envelopes your covered nipple.

“Oh shit,” you curse quietly.

Despite the thin cotton barrier, you can feel very clearly the hot, wet pressure of his tongue swirling around your nipple. All of the movements so far are experimental, hesitant in their rhythm. He hollows his cheeks softly and sucks and all of the sudden a long, drawn out moan leaves you. It gives him the confidence he needs to take his free hand and pinch at the other side, fingers mimicking the rhythm his mouth is setting over you.

Quickly, though, the shirt becomes unbearable and you get annoyed at the thought that such a stupid barrier exists between you and Jungkook’s mouth. You wriggle resolutely under him until he huffs in annoyance and pulls away to see why you’re interrupting him. When he sees that you’re merely hiking the shirt’s hem up to your armpits and exposing your breasts to him, he hums contentedly. He swoops back in, this time to the other side, and begins laving at the tightened bud. Your hands scrabble for purchase and eventually make their way back to his neck again.

“Jungkook,” you breathe raggedly into the crown of his head.

“Hmm?”

“What’s the—mmh fuck—the occasion for all this?”

He comes up with a slick popping sound, looking up at you with dark and hooded eyes. The sight sends a bolt of arousal to your core.

“Just been wanting to.” With that, he returns to making a mess of your chest.

Somehow, in the series of achingly long minutes that follow, you manage to get his button down and undershirt off. The sight of the smooth planes of his skin make your hands itch to feel him. You try to pull him up so you can have better access, but he won’t budge as he begins to kiss lower once both of your breasts have been thoroughly marked. You give up and try to predict what he’ll do next as he digs his fingers into your waist appreciatively and kisses a ring around your belly button.

He proceeds lower, his destination becoming increasingly obvious as he playfully flicks at the tiny ribbon decorating the front of your panties before halting. Tentatively, he pushes an index finger underneath the elastic lining where your thigh meets groin. You can feel what you suppose is the puff of his breath across the crotch of your panties.

“Can I—”

“No,” you blurt, legs snapping closed. Jungkook scoots back just at the right time to save his head from being crushed. “S-sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.” He runs a hand through his hair nervously. “Do you just…not like it?”

“I’ve actually, uh, never…” you trail off until the words are lost in the mounds of pillows surrounding your head.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I’ve never really had anyone go down on me before.”

“Really?” His eyebrows shoot up behind his slightly damp bangs. “Not even with Yugyeom?”

You wince at the mention of your ex. Yugyeom had been your first and only boyfriend and you had a good run and even what most would call an amicable breakup. But one of the more bitter moments was the one time you’d attempted to get him to go down on you only for him to wrinkle his nose and tell you ‘he wasn’t into that sort of thing’.

“He just wasn’t interested.”

Jungkook nods understandingly for a minute before his gaze is drawn to the space at the apex of your clenched thighs again.

“Are you? Interested?” His tone is heavy with implication and the way he casually hovers over you while sitting back on his heels just makes you feel tiny.

“I-I mean, I guess I am,” you stutter.

“Okay.” He gets back onto his stomach, hands gently prying your knees apart until there’s enough room to accommodate his broad shoulders. “So can I?”

“Go for it.” Your words come out in a squeak.

“Thanks,” he smiles softly.

You can’t see anything because you’ve thrown an arm over your eyes self-consciously. Normally, these moments between the two of you have your stomach in knots for a different reason, but now you’re just plain nervous. You’re diligent about hygiene and you remind yourself that you just took a shower. But it had just been a normal shower and not a booty-call shower. What if he thought you smelled weird? Or that you tasted weird? For some reason, this felt more intimate than all the times before this where he was merely watching and you were the one doing the work down there.

Jungkook hooks his fingers into the waist band of your underwear, pulling it down with your help when you lift your butt. You bite your lip nervously and lift your arm slightly so you can watch his reaction.

He doesn’t have any sort of adverse reaction once you’re completely bare in front of him, though you suppose he’s familiar enough not to act surprised by anything. But you’re not expecting him to dive in suddenly until he’s less than an inch away from your sticky folds. You shouldn’t be embarrassed that you got turned on from making out, but it’s like everything has flipped and suddenly you know how he felt during those first few times together.

You can’t take the silence anymore. “What is it?”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so quiet.”

“I’m just trying to decide what to do first.”

“Oh. Sorry I can’t be of service.”

He smiles at how awkward you’re being before moving a tiny bit closer and taking a large inhale. Your eyes widen and you move to clamp your legs closed to shut him out, but he’s ready this time. One hand presses down on your pelvis while the other one presses on your hip, effectively pinning you to the bed.

“Calm down. It’s just me,” he whispers before inhaling deeply once. Twice. Three times more. All the while you can’t help but squirm. But he only increases the pressure of his hands with each antsy wiggle of your hips.

As soon as you decide to be still again, he releases your hip to spread you open with two fingers and presses a gentle kiss to your clit. You nearly jump off the bed at the foreign sensation.

“Jungkook, wait, I—” but you don’t manage to get the words out before he kisses you again.

This time his tongue flicks out to collect some of arousal that’s been steadily collecting despite your nerves. As soon as the flavor spreads on his tongue, he freezes. You wonder for a moment if he’s going to pull back and say he’s made a mistake. But then he surges forward again and begins licking broad stripes across you, catching your clit every so often.

He watches you carefully to gauge your reactions to what he’s doing. Taking in your heated face and dewy skin, he deduces he’s going in the right direction. And when he drags the flat of his tongue over your entrance as if to drink from you, your lip automatically gets stuck between your teeth and your eyes flutter shut. It’s a good series of reactions, but he wants more from you. He wants to get you to do that thing where your back curves up off the mattress or get your hands to scrabble at his arms to ground you while you shake under him.

“Oh god. Right there,” you gasp when he wraps his lips around your clit randomly and sucks.

Jungkook nods resolutely before re-wetting his lips and repeating the action. You moan loudly when his tongue brushes against you in the midst of the suction. Your hand finds its way to the back of his head and presses until the lower half of his face is almost entirely flush with you. You remove your hand almost immediately once you realize what you’re doing.

“Sorry,” you mumble, “I got carried away.”

He pulls back with a wide grin and shining cheeks. “It’s okay. It’s good to know its going well.”

Your hand falls back down to rest tentatively near his head. You watch the shining brown mop of his hair return to bobbing between your legs and feel another rush of arousal gush forth. Even if you couldn’t feel it, Jungkook’s following groan of pleasant surprise and the wet sounds that follow have your eyes rolling to the ceiling partly out of acute pleasure and partly out of disbelief. Why couldn’t your life always be this nice and worry-free?

Jungkook’s gently circling fingers around your entrance have you snapping back to the present. You wonder if tonight is going to continue being a night of firsts when you remember that Jungkook probably hasn’t done much ‘internal’ work.

“Would it be too much?” Even though he doesn’t specify, you know what he’s asking.

“Just go slow.”

You’re already quickly approaching an orgasm, but hopefully this will get you there quicker. You feel almost sluggish with the fiery heat that’s seemingly been spreading from your core to the rest of your body in time with each pulse of his tongue. But when he inserts the first finger, you feel impossibly warmer.

His jaw drops open as your warm heat envelopes his digit immediately in a wet, vice-like grip. He can only imagine what it would feel like if he could be inside you the way he wanted to be, but even that pale phantom grip in the back of his mind is enough to have him bucking into the mattress. He leans in to press lingering kisses to your lower lips while twisting his wrist in matching time. Soon you’re clutching at his shoulders, gripping his hair, kicking your feet anxiously as your high approaches. You can almost taste it and stars are collecting in the corners of your vision as Jungkook continues to lap at your center messily. As if he can read your mind, he withdraws only to enter again with two fingers this time. It’s just enough thickness to stretch you the way you want, but the angle is off.

“Jungkook.”

“Hmm?”

“Bend your fingers back and press up.”

“Like this,” he asks while making some motion, concentration creasing his brows.

You quickly reach down and re-orient his wrist. With great care, he reproduces the motions at the new angle and delights in the fact that you’re now quaking above him. Broken variations of his name tumble from your lips as the waves of your orgasm take over. Your legs kicks out as they characteristically do and so he positions them to hang more safely over his shoulders, despite the fact that your ankles tickle at his sides. He presses a chaste kiss against the skin of your inner thigh and hopes you don’t notice the way he nuzzles into the skin to wipe his face off a bit.

When you’re limp and your breathing has returned back to normal, he crawls over your legs to lay beside you.

“Was that good?”

You turn to face him and take in his sweaty face and pleased expression. You roll your eyes and shove at his chest, but he just grabs your hand and squeezes it before releasing it.

“It was good. But don’t get a big head, you still have to climb back out the window later.”

“Am I banned from the door?”

“I’m still mad you decided it would be a good idea to climb the fire escape when you’d clearly been drinking.”

“Not a lot, though. I was still able to drive.”

“That’s not something you should advertise,” you laugh.

He shifts a little awkwardly next to you and you realize he might not have gotten the same thing you did from eating you out. He notices where your gaze travels and grins shyly, shoving a spare throw pillow over the tent in his slacks.

“Ah, sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. I just wish I wasn’t so tired. Otherwise, I could—”

“Don’t feel like you have to. I was just gonna take care of it myself.”

“Oh. Like, right now?”

“Yeah? If that’s okay.”

“Okay.”

You sit back and watch as he slowly shirks off his dress pants and briefs in one go. His erection springs forward and from the almost angry red flush across the shaft, you figure he must have been pretty uncomfortable. He strokes it absent-mindedly and realizes that he doesn’t have any lube before turning to you.

“You wanna do the honors,” he asks with his palm out. It takes you a while to understand what he’s asking.

“Like, you want me to…?”

“Yeah.”

With all your remaining energy, you attempt to spit into his palm in an attractive manner. You’re not sure if you succeed, because as soon as you’re done he gets to business. The way he moves his hand over his length is rough and fast. Almost as if he’s trying to play catch up; not necessarily with you, but maybe with himself. With whatever thoughts had been plaguing him earlier while you came on his fingers and tongue. His breath leaves him in little punched gasps and the sounds are so pleasing that you lean forward and capture his lips with your own.

You wouldn’t quite call what you’re doing kissing. It’s more like a series of brushes of lips as his erratic hand movements cause him to move in and out of your space. Though he occasionally stops to steal a few kisses, they only seem to egg him on further until he can only touch his forehead to yours while he brings himself over the edge, spilling into his hand.

“Better?” You pull away to grab some wet wipes out of the side table drawer.

“Definitely,” he sighs. “I can put these sheets in the wash before I go, if you want.”

“Oh,” you blink up at him. “You’re leaving?”

“Yeah, I have to get some sleep. I promised Yoori I’d take her to breakfast at Dreamies.”

“Wow. You’re taking her to Dreamies? Are you sure you’re not more serious than you’ve been letting on?”

“It’s not like that,” he laughs stiffly as he tugs on his clothes. “We’re getting food to-go and then going to a butterfly garden.”

“Well, that sounds fun too.”

You can’t help but let out a sigh of relief. Dreamies is the diner you and the rest of the group frequent when you’ve all done too much drinking the night before and need good hangover food. It’s also open 24 hours, so sometimes it’s where you all go when you have nothing better to do or when you just want to have a wholesome time. A lot of good memories have been made in Dreamies, but its always been with the whole group. The idea of Jungkook bringing Yoori there for a private date doesn’t exactly sit well with you. Though it’s not like you can say anything because no one ever did establish that Dreamies was a group space exclusively. And even if someone had, who are you to make demands about where Jungkook and Yoori go out on dates?

Jungkook makes good on his promise and puts your sheets in the wash and even makes your bed while you wait for the washer to stop. He leaves when the dryer cycle finishes, pulling you in by the waist and kissing you deeply before strutting out the door with a flourish.

“I come bearing clothes,” you say as soon as Yoori opens the door.

She’d told you over the phone to bring some things to go out in after bugging you about firming up weekend plans. It still isn’t clear where you’re going, so you have brought a variety of outfits to cover the spectrum of possible events. You figured that you would get ready at her place as soon as you found out where you were going. But when she opens the door with makeup already done and her hair already curled, you’re a bit confused.

“Hello! How are you, my lovely?” She envelopes you tightly in a hug before taking the clothes out of your hands.

“I’m great. I got all excited on the way over because I thought we were gonna glam up together here, but it looks like you already did that.”

“I know,” she grimaces. “It’s just that Jungkook asked me if I wanted to go to the arcade out of the blue after we got brunch and I didn’t know what type of atmosphere that might be, so I just got as ready as possible. And then we went on a drive. We didn’t actually interact with any other humans. I could have worn my PJs.”

“That’s Jungkook for you,” you snort dryly. “So, uh, how was that drive?”

“You don’t have to ask me how our date went. I know it’s awkward to talk about dating your best friend. I’ll spare you.”

“Thank you.”

Yoori hands you a glass of your favorite wine, something she’s been keeping regularly stocked in her wine fridge since you became friends. You toe off your shoes before heading into the living room with her.

“Do you want tonight to be a surprise or do you want me to tell you where we’re going?” She reaches out to play with a loose string on the throw blanket adorning the couch, watching you with wide eyes as you drain your glass.

“Tell me. So I can pick out my outfit accordingly.”

“Okay. Just…promise me you won’t knock it before you try it.”

“I wouldn’t do that unless you said we were going somewhere ridiculous.” You tilt your head with a no nonsense stare. “And we wouldn’t do that, right? We’re not doing anything ridiculous?”

All she does is beam at you before pulling her phone out and scrolling through her photo album until she comes to the right image. She hands you the phone silently, lip bitten in anticipation.

“Hell no,” you say as soon as you see the flyer she’s taken a screenshot of. It’s advertising a Lady’s Night at a club with an open dance floor and drinks at a discounted rate. Immediately you hand the phone back and wish for more wine to magically appear in your glass.

“Please? I feel like it would be so fun, and it’s supposed to be a really great place. Pretty please?”

“Why can’t we just stay in and order Thai? I like your place, you don’t have to take me anywhere.”

“You make us sound like an old married couple. Besides, you never spend your weekends anywhere other than with those boys.” When you give her an unamused stare, she backpedals. “Charming as they are. Don’t get me wrong, I love them all. But don’t you think it would be fun to switch things up? Neither of us go out enough. We’re wasting our youth and beauty.”

“Excuse me. You’re dating my best friend, remember?”

“And by ‘we’, I meant not me.”

You roll your eyes and opt into searching for the wine bottle she used to pour your first drink. It catches your eye across the room where it sits at the long cherry dining table. You move to get up, but Yoori clamps down on your wrist with a pleading expression.

“Please?”

“I don’t want to spend the money.”

“I’ll pay for both our cover charges. Please?”

“The drinks will be shitty and I’ll need to be drunk to enjoy it.”

“We can drink here first and call a cab. Please?”

“I didn’t bring any makeup.”

“You left some over here from last time. Pleeease?”

“But the guys there will—“

“I’ll protect you,” you frown, unconvinced. “Please? I’ll even stay sober the whole night so nothing gets by me.”

“Fine. But only for an hour.”

“What? That’s too short, nothing good can happen in an hour. That’s too unrealistic. Two hours.”

“I’ll give you an hour and a half. After that, we’re coming back here and I’m sleeping over. Deal?”

She considers your conditions for a brief second before finally letting you get up. “You have to let me do your makeup and let me put pictures on my Instagram story.”

“Sure, but that will cost you another 15 minutes.”

Your back is turned to her as you fill up your glass, but you can practically see her writhing with indecision. Schooling your features into neutrality, you turn back to face her, and she straightens up.

“Deal.”

It takes much longer than it should have to get ready, but in the end, that’s a good thing because Yoori had originally wanted to show up to the event on time. Though you don’t get out much, even you know that arriving fashionably late means a better chance at getting there when everything is in full swing. Much better than getting there when there are 10 people in the whole club and no one is having any fun yet.

You let her apply your makeup, but you don’t let her pick your outfit much to Yoori’s chagrin. It doesn’t matter though because you’re no less miserable as she drags you into the bathroom to take a series of selfies.

That’s not to say that you hate selfies or that you never take them. You take them when you’re bored, when you’re texting the group chat, when you’re talking to your mom, when you’re home alone and feeling yourself. Next to Yoori, though, you can’t help but feel a little intimidated. Yoori doesn’t know your angles, Yoori doesn’t know your favorite filters and it’s not something you can just ask someone to change. Specific filters and angles are the bread and butter of anyone’s best selfies, and they’re not easily interchanged for someone else’s. As an engineering student, you can appreciate the complex science that is selfie-taking. And as much as you love Yoori, you don’t want to be the eyesore on her Instagram and cost her followers. Part of you hopes she gets drunk so you can take her phone and delete them later.

But she stays true to her word and doesn’t drink any more after leaving the apartment to go to the club. You stay true to your word as well and toss back another drink as soon as you get there, hoping that it will calm your nerves. In all honesty, you know there’s nothing to be nervous about, but you still order a second drink at the bar immediately after so you have something to do with your hands. You look good and you most likely won’t see any of the people at the club ever again, but you still feel out of place.

“You look terrified,” Yoori whispers in your ear. She’s been watching your expression carefully the whole time and has started to regret bugging you about coming.

“I am.”

“If you want, we can just go home now. I didn’t realize you hated going out this much.”

“It’s not that I hate going out,” you shout over the music. “It’s just that I can never let go off what other people might be thinking about me. And if I can’t do that, I can’t have fun.”

Yoori nods in sympathy. Although, she also doesn’t like the feeling of being scrutinized, she knows you’re coming from a different place. You’ve spoken candidly to her a few times about you feel like the two of you make an odd pairing. She remembers the way you spoke about her, all laudatory words, and then how you spoke about yourself. Yoori wants to compliment you the way you do her, but she knows that certain kind words only act as cold comfort for you.

“What can I do?”

You ponder the question for a bit. You figure, if you can manage to fake having the time of your life for 10 minutes, you can trick yourself into actually having fun for the rest of the night. With that thought, you finish your drink in a few large swallows before grabbing Yoori’s hand.

“Do you wanna dance with me?”

Yoori blinks down at you with wide eyes but nods somewhat shyly. You let her guide you into the throng of dancing bodies. As the song washes over you, you do a simple two-step while you decide what type of vibe to go for. Quickly the song grows on you, and you begin to put more energy into your dancing. At the sight of you enthusiastically swiveling your hips to the beat of the song with a smile on your face, Yoori beams.

The night unfolds like that. You manage to throw away your inhibitions in favor of dancing for hours. Yoori takes a couple videos of you when the right song comes on and puts you into a sexy musical trance. You take turns shooing random guys away who thinking they can casually fist pump their way into your sacred space. A few girls much drunker than you wander over to you and you welcome them with open arms and dance with them for a few songs, but they always float away after a while. Not without Yoori inquiring where their friends are and waiting until said friends come to collect them first, though. All in all, it’s more fun than almost all of your game nights combined. The thought makes you guilty for all of .3 seconds before you remember that none of the guys would ever go out dancing unless it was a means to an end of getting laid.

When the clock strikes 1:30—much later than you had originally promised to stay out—you collect your things and let Yoori guide you once more. This time she leads you outside to get a ride back to her place. She lays her pristine white leather jacket on your sweaty shoulders when she sees you shivering from the drastic temperature change that comes with leaving the balmy dance-floor.

“Tonight was so fun,” you drawl on the way over. Your head lolls onto her shoulder and she smooths the stray strands of hair off your forehead.

“It was. I was worried for a minute that you wouldn’t like it.”

“Mmm, me too. Yoori, this was great.”

“You never say my name.” She gets out of the car first before paying the driver and then goes back in to get you, slinging your arm over her slender shoulders.

“I know. Feels weird if I do.”

“I like it.”

“M’kay.”

As soon as the door opens, you race for the bathroom. One of the prices to pay for a good night out is dealing with a wine bladder and a hangover. The peeing, you could handle. The hangover, though, dwells in the back of your mind ominously as you brush your teeth and hastily remove your makeup. You’re pretty sure you haven’t taken all of it off when your face hits the cushion of the couch, but the couch is leather so you don’t care. Yoori, however, does care.

“Oh, no you don’t. Come here,” she grabs at you until she gets a hold and can walk you the remainder of the way to her room.

“I don’t wanna walk.”

“You don’t want to sleep on the couch either.”

“Where we goin’?”

“To bed, silly.”

You nod and let her escort you there. Immediately, you slide your skirt down and scramble to take off your crop top. As you fumble with your sleep shirt, Yoori respectfully turns away to change into her own pajamas, cheeks burning.

The covers feel pleasantly cool under your hands as you wait for her to finish changing. “Which side d’you want?”

“I usually sleep in the middle, actually. But I can sleep on whichever side you don’t pick tonight.”

“I sleep on this side.”

“Okay,” she nods agreeably.

“Tomorrow, do you wanna get Dream—oh wait. You went already. You probably don’t want it a second time. I’ll just go to Starbucks or something on my way back.”

“N-no! I’d love to go tomorrow. I was hoping to try their waffles at some point, anyway.”

“Okay, great. Goodnight, Yoori.”

“Goodnight,” she says quietly after the lights have been turned off.

Emotionally, the following week is fine, but it’s hard on your body. 

Your hangover takes over your whole Sunday, leaving you to slightly behind on work Monday. It creates a spiral of catching up on work that has you staying up further and further past your bedtime and unable to be as social as you’d like. Yoori lets you know via Snapchat that she misses you but that Jungkook has taken your spot at your usual study table. The two of them look adorable in the little puppy ear filter Yoori’s put over the short video. You watch with mixed feelings as Yoori blows a kiss and then remembers that Jungkook is there and ushers him into blowing a kiss as well. It’s not nearly as enthusiastic and stiffer than the one Yoori sent you but it still sends your heart into a fluttering tizzy.

Friday couldn’t come soon enough. But as soon as you wake up that morning, you feel jittery and off. All your warm clothes are in the hamper, none of them salvageable for one last wear. And all your motivation has been zapped after the week of constant working you just had. Classes prove to be no better despite the fact that they give you time to get out of your head. 

The rest of the day is syrupy, leaving you struggling through it even as you try to go with the flow of the sluggishly passing hours. Normally you aim for productivity, but as soon as your final lecture for the day ends, you find yourself unable to pass time with work. You take a walk through campus and even venture all the way over to the theatre department, on the other side of the common grounds. You try to sit on the frosted benches looking out over the man-made pond students often frequent, but your joggers aren’t prepared for the extreme cold and you realize maybe familiarity, instead of novelty, is what will make the time pass by quicker.

You decide to text Taehyung. His schedule is something that you’ve come to passively memorize after weeks of the information casually floating through past conversations.

You: Im bored

BigBoi: Where r u I’ll pick u up

You: @ Seemond’s pond…

BigBoi: ???

Taehyung arrives not ten minutes later, cheeks flushed with exertion from hustling over. He’s also not at all dressed for the weather, but doesn’t look bothered by it either in his university hoodie and thick knitted scarf. His beaten sneakers crunch loudly on the thin layer of white that’s collected since the last snowfall a few days ago.

“Oh my god, Tae, aren’t you freezing?”

Immediately you approach him and pull the hood laying limply along his shoulder blades over his colored hair. The roots have since started growing in and the color has faded enough to give him more of a coppery rose gold look. It’s a color so many Instagram influencers would have shit themselves over last summer trying to perfect at a professional salon, and here Taehyung stands with it after a bleach-happy accident in his dorm’s communal bathroom sink.

“Not really. I was actually nearby looking for a printer in BPD hall.”

“What for?”

“Financial aid forms,” he sighs. You grimace in sympathy before shirking your oversized black mittens.

“At least put these on if you’re not even going to pretend you checked the weather this morning.”

“What about you?” He gestures to the parts of your bare hands that he can see poking out from the sleeves of your own large puffy jacket.

“I’ll be fine. This has fleece-lined pockets. Meanwhile,” bending over, you peer into the front tummy pocket of his hoodie. “You only have a tootsie roll lining.” You dig your fist into the pocket and pull out the scraps of trash he’d been hiding in there with only mild disgust marring your features. “How do you live like that?”

“Dunno, just do. Maybe it’s because people like you can’t help but throw it out before I get the chance to get sick of it and do it myself.”

“Fair enough.”

“What should we do?”

“I don’t know. I’m cold and I don’t wanna do work.”

“How about a movie marathon?”

“Sure.”

* * *

“This isn’t what I thought you meant when you said movie,” you huff as the black opening credit scene dissolves and a French couple in a black and white colorscape whisper to one another in a moonlit alley.

“You said you didn’t care what we watched.”

“That was under the assumption that I would be able to understand it. There’s not even subtitles.”

“You don’t need them.”

“Yes, I do, because I don’t speak French. And neither do you.”

“That doesn’t really matter. You can read their body language and get all you need to from that.”

You try to fix your stare on the couple who is now running from the police with a pair of bloodied knives in their hands and smiles on their faces.

“This isn’t a horror movie, is it?”

“No,” he trails off suspiciously. When you whip your head to the side to glare at him, he cracks. “What? It’s not! It’s a thriller.”

“Anything that could give me nightmares is a horror movie, Taehyung.”

“It’s not even that scary,” he says right at the moment when the couple is seen carving into a police man’s face with the previously shown knives.

The cinematic effects are gross but clearly dated and if you were a reasonable person, you would find it laughable. But instead the dyed corn syrup dripping off the actor’s face just makes your stomach clench and you grab onto Taehyung’s arm out of disgust and anger.

“Why would you put me through this?”

“To get your mind off of Jungkook,” he says matter-of-factly.

Your mouth drops open when you realize partly that he’s right and partly you haven’t had a single moping thought about Jungkook and Yoori in the near hour it took to pick up snacks from the convenience store and walk over to Taehyung’s place from the pond while avoiding ice patches. It’s honestly a brilliant plan, but you hate him for it at the same time.

“You’re a dick.” You punctuate the statement with a sharp punch to the meat of his shoulder and revel in the bashful look he gives you while rubbing at the spot. “But thank you. If you wanted to get my mind off it, you didn’t have to use horror to do it.”

“True, but my options were limited since, one, I don’t have cable, and two, I don’t want to watch reality tv.”

“We could make fun of shitty rom-coms. That’s a good compromise.”

And that is how you end up watching a slightly watered down knock off of Fifty Shades with the TV remote in hand, rewinding, so you can point out where you can see the camera person’s reflection in the female lead’s pendant necklace.

“That’s a huge oversight. I can’t believe these people walk around like they’ve dedicated their lives to a certain level of craft only to do this”

“I mean, the fact that they used Papyrus font in their online movie poster should have clued you in,” you snort.

Both of you watch as the male lead swims up to his co-star where she stands at the foot of the pool he’s in. The grin he flashes her is blindingly white and his teeth resemble pearls in an unattractively artificial way.

“Why do people think veneers like that look good,” you sigh and shift so you can reach over and play with the faded pink strands of Taehyung’s hair. He leans in unconsciously and shrugs.

“I don’t know. Maybe they think people won’t be able to tell the difference.”

“I suppose that’s fair. But with everything being filmed in high definition these days, there’s less wiggle room for that sort of thing.”

Male lead reaches for the slender ankle of his co-star and tugs her into the pool, soaking her dainty white eyelet dress. When she comes up for air, she pouts for a second before swiping at him and missing. She nearly falls face first back into the water but he reaches out with a condescending laugh and catches her with ease despite what physics would predict to be possible. The moment turns serious quickly as the pair stare into each other’s eyes. You don’t understand how she’s supposed to be the homely girl next door when she’s got what you know are the most expensive mink lash extensions on the market and the most symmetrical, albeit oddly familiar, face you’ve ever seen.

“Wow,” Taehyung scoffs as the actor pulls her in for a heated kiss. “They really think that’s what buildup looks like. It’s fifteen minutes in and we still don’t know his name. And didn’t they just meet for the first time the day before this?”

“Keep up, Tae. Don’t you know all women want in life is to get rawed in the pool of the mystery guy who cut them off in the supermarket 24 hours prior?”

“Ah. That must be why my sex life is so grim.”

“Look at that,” you gesture to the couple that is now stumbling out of the pool and into the man’s perfectly lit mansion in a race to get to the bedroom. “That could be you if you had decided to take your dad’s car this year and cut some random girl off in the parking lot of the Price Chopper.”

“Damn. Would I have his mansion too?” You nod gravely.

“Probably.” You finish plaiting the hair of his sideburns and leave him with a little inflexible pink braid poking out from his temple.

“How’s it look?” He gestures to the side of his head with your handiwork on it.

“You look really great. You might not even need to break the rules of parking etiquette to snag a hot date.”

You both return your attention to the TV only to find the movie couple in a fairly compromising position. The lead actress is bent over the arm of a sofa as the camera ‘artistically’ captures the rapid way the actor drills into her from behind. It catches both of you off guard and a nervous laugh bubbles its way out of you.

“This is ridiculous.” Taehyung rolls his eyes and turns to laugh at the display with you.

“Yeah,” you say half-heartedly.

Even though the movie is horribly done and nothing in its execution per se turns you on, it is Friday. And your body has gotten pretty used to your weekend schedule. Which, up until recently, would have meant that at this hour Taehyung and Hoseok would be out somewhere looking for a place to vape while you helped Jungkook out of his pants at his apartment.

But that’s not what’s happening right now because Jungkook is probably on his way in a rental car to pick Yoori up for their third official date. To the movies. Still, that doesn’t stop your body from revving up more than it should after watching such a stupid romance movie. If you close your eyes, you’re sure you could remember with scary accuracy the feel of Jungkook’s hands on you.

“Hey.” At your awkward silence, Taehyung’s voice lowers and he leans in to tease you, “You’re not actually enjoying this, are you?”

“N-no, of course not.”

He lets out an incredulous laugh. “Holy crap, you are. You’re into this.”

“No, I’m not! Stop!”

“This is hilarious. I can’t believe you like this.” He stares at the screen with a baffled smile on his face, trying to see what could be so appealing about the affected look of arousal on the male lead’s face as he bites his lip with zero finesse. “Is it him?”

“It’s not him,” you scrabble for an answer, “I-it’s the actress.” At that his eyes widen and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. “I mean, I recognize her from a porno, that’s all.”

“No way,” he says before studying the woman’s face. When the actor pulls tightly on her ponytail and forces a whining moan out of her, his eyes light up with recognition. “Wait, yeah, you’re right.”

“Told you.”

“Hold on. You watch porn?” You roll your eyes.

“Yeah, I watch porn. Sometimes I need some visual stimuli too. And she’s been in a few of them.”

“Hmm,” he says finally, “Never would have thought you’d like her stuff.”

“You say that like you’ve thought about what I’d watch.”

“Well, you’re just so—“

A sharp sound comes from near the front door as Hoseok barges in hurriedly, nearly falling and spilling the grocery bags in his hands. He places them on the small table outside the entrance to the tiny kitchenette.

“Tae, I tried calling you like 5 different times about getting the door. Why didn’t you pick up your...phone,” Hoseok trails off as he takes in the fact that you’re in Taehyung’s apartment, very early to the Friday game night, seated very close to Taehyung with a flaming cheeks on the couch while what looks like soft-core porn plays in the background.

“My phone must have died from the cold. Bro, I’m really sor—“

“What the hell are you two doing,” he sneers.

“We were just watching a movie,” you pipe in when you sense a weird shift in the mood.

Obviously, you’re closer to Jungkook than you are to Taehyung or Hoseok, but you really don’t understand the strange energy in the room. Hoseok looks angrier than he should about Taehyung not helping him with carrying some snacks and Taehyung looks overly imploring. Perhaps this is just how they are when they’re annoyed, but it still strikes you as odd even from a slightly distant perspective. When no one says anything you get up slowly, like you would around wild animals in a territory death match, and move towards Hoseok to help him with the food.

“Here, I’ll help you put these away,” you say quietly with a soft hand on his back to get him to break his cold glare. “Don’t be mad at Tae, he didn’t do anything.”

The glare is only slightly softened as he turns to you, jaw clenched. “Well, what about you?”

“What are you talking about?”

The genuine confusion on your face seems to dissolve whatever’s left of the sudden rage that filled him, and he breaks down and lets you take the bags he’s still holding from him. While your back is turned, Hoseok looks suspiciously over at Taehyung, who is still staring back with large, nervous eyes.

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly when you finish unpacking the first bag of chips and come over to him to take the next one.

“Whatever,” you huff good-naturedly. “As long as you leave me out of your little lovers’ quarrel, I’m fine. Go make up, I’ll finish with these.”

You watch Hoseok amble over to Taehyung and begin whispering frantically before they finally come to some sort of agreement and hug it out.

When you come back to the couch, Hoseok has taken your spot next to Taehyung and has man-spread all over the rest of the free space. Even the back of the couch is claimed by his outstretched arms. Both of them stop their whispered conversation and turn to see why you’re hovering.

“What’s up,” Hoseok inquires suspiciously.

“Are we gonna do anything tonight? I could be in bed right now, but instead I’m here.”

“We have to pick the game first. My vote is for poker.”

“No poker. You still owe me like 80 bucks from last time you thought you could bluff,” Taehyung crosses his arms in a huff.

“That’s in the past, I’m a new man now. This Hoseok doesn’t owe you anything.”

“You’re an ass.” Taehyung springs to the side and quickly locks Hoseok in a sloppy headlock.

You watch them struggle on the couch in mild interest until Taehyung loses his footing and Hoseok’s wiggling underneath him pitches them both onto the floor. Someone’s head hits the coffee table on the way down, and you wince in sympathy, but they carry on like nothing happened.

The idea of letting them tire themselves out seems appealing at first but when Hoseok sinks his teeth into Taehyung’s hoodie-clad bicep and draws out a yelp, you intervene as neutrally as possible.

“Why don’t we just start with Gin Rummy?”

“Okay.” Hoseok drops Taehyung’s arm from his mouth, suddenly content.

You give him a wide berth and wait until after he goes into the kitchen to hunt for a deck of cards to offer Taehyung a helping hand up off the ground. He doesn’t make eye contact with you as you make your way over to the table, so you can’t silently grill him.

“How many is it? 5 per person,” Hoseok asks while shuffling the cards.

Small Styrofoam bowls are neatly laid out across the center of the table, each one filled with the chips from earlier. You perch in the chair next to Hoseok so you’re close to the Cheetos.

“It’s 7, I think.”

“Cool,” is all he says before handing you your cards.

You go around the table for a few rounds, placing cards down that you don’t need, picking up cards that you do and the occasional chip. Halfway through the first round, Taehyung gets up to turn off the fluorescents and turn on the fairy lights Hoseok won’t stop teasing him for having. You sync your phone up to his speaker and play music in the background and revel in the fact that you’re getting back into the swing of having fun with them. Without Jungkook.

“You still got beer, right?” Hoseok doesn’t look up from his cards since he’s very close to winning the round and he needs only 1 more card.

“Yeah,” you say, slapping down another card. “We picked some up at the convenience store. I’ll go get a pack for the table.”

“Thanks. I think I’m gonna call out for food too. What do you guys want?”

“I want pancakes,” Taehyung smiles brightly at the prospect of something other than the sad deli meats in his fridge.

Opening the door to his fridge leaves you confused. “You have stuff for pancakes.”

“Yeah, but I have to cook it,” he pouts at you through the window in the kitchen wall.

“It’s your turn,” Hosoek informs you.

You load up with supplies for making pancakes and head over to the table to distribute the ingredients amongst yourselves. Taehyung cracks eggs when it’s not his turn, Hoseok levels out the dry ingredients. You’re pouring milk into a bowl when one of your favorite songs from high school starts blaring through the speakers.

“Oh shit! Do you guys remember when this came out?”

“They played it at my homecoming dance,” Hoseok grimaces at the memory while you gyrate and mix the ingredients in a large bowl. “And then they played it on the radio for, like, 3 months straight afterwards. It was fucking annoying.”

“Yeah, but it’s been so long now. It’s good again. Come on, get up.” You pass Taehyung the bowl and creep towards Hoseok.

“What are you doing?” He smiles up at you like you’re crazy. You lace your fingers together and pull him out of his chair.

“What does it look like? I’m making you dance with me.”

“But you can’t dance, though.”

“Don’t ruin the fun,” you whine.

At first he doesn’t dance with you. He just continues to stand and lets you mouth the words at him and occasionally wave your hands in his face or pinch his cheeks when the lyrics get good. He even lets you bump hips with him and pretend to grind on him from behind.

Despite himself, your good mood is infectious and when you scamper back in front of him for the chorus, he surprises you by taking you into waltz position. It doesn’t fit the song, but it’s funny because you end up doing a bouncy-looking two step that resembles a sped-up prom dance. Taehyung hoots supportively from where he stands in the kitchen, melting butter on the stove.

Hoseok bends you over into a theatrical dip, causing you to let out a shrieking laugh and clutch at him so he doesn’t drop you. The song ends, but he jokingly holds the pose until your thighs are burning and you’re yelling for him to pull you back up. The front door clicks open while you bicker lightly.

“Look who decided to show up,” Hoseok drawls and finally brings you back up slowly, so you don’t get a head rush.

You blink away the stars that were starting to form in the corners of your eyes and realize Jungkook is, in fact, back from his date. At 9:43, no less. With Yoori in tow.

In your opinion, it’s much too early for someone to be back from date night with the long-time love of their life, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. Instead you fiddle with the hem of your sweater nervously. Something about Yoori and Jungkook being present in the same room makes you a bit anxious. Perhaps its because it makes your policy about stopping your weekly rendezvous until things get physically serious between the two of them seem very flimsy.

Yoori and Jungkook are both clearly tipsy. You can tell from the way Jungkook hangs himself off her petite frame like he’s looking for support. You roll your eyes and go over to wrestle him from her and waddle him over to the dining room table where he can sit.

“How was your date,” you turn to Yoori who is hovering behind you with sleepy eyes.

“It was alright. The movie was a little boring,” she stage-whispers into your ear. “Don’t tell Kook.”

“You didn’t like the movie?” His head lolls back so he can look up at Yoori with doe eyes. Disappointment makes them look extra round and shiny.

She raises her brows guiltily. “I thought the new superhero movie would have been more your speed. I didn’t mind the idea of seeing it. I like action films.”

“Oh.”

You scamper out of the dining area as fast as you can to join Hoseok and Taehyung in the kitchen. The awkward couple moment they’re having isn’t something you think you should be privy to anyway.

Taehyung chuckles at the mortified expression on your face while Hoseok’s considers you stoically.

“Are they being too mushy in there?”

“No, not really.” You sigh. “It’s just weird realizing that I’ve never really been around them when they’re together. I don’t like the idea that I can’t get a read on the situation when they’re both good friends, you know?”

Hoseok snorts dryly. “Well, you know what they say. Dating changes people.”

“Yeah, but this is Kook we’re talking about,” Taehyung murmurs while stirring the hidden flour patches at the bottom of the bowl back into the batter. “Do you really think he’s changed that much?”

You shrug. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you’ve changed,” Hoseok suggests.

And maybe you have. Not in the normal way, where you outgrow people. But maybe something about you has changed since you started being intimate with Jungkook in such a way where you can’t be just his gaming buddy or his companionable silence partner. Gone are the days where you could push down your infatuation long enough to sit pressed close to each other on the couch when the Iron Man movie series is marathoning on TV. You’re not sure if that’s made things easier or harder on you. Perhaps its been a little bit of both.

“What are you guys up to?”

Jungkook has managed to amble over to the kitchen while staying upright thanks to Yoori’s guiding hands. Now he’s peering into the entrance of the kitchen after the way you, Taehyung, and Hoseok whispering to one another piqued his interest. Yoori lays on the sofa, recovering from too many glasses of complimentary movie chardonnay.

You keep your head down and pretend watching Taehyung ladle batter onto the griddle is fascinating enough not to reply. Thoughts of whether or not something crucial has shifted occupy your mind too much for you to speak.

“Just playing cards and making pancakes,” Taehyung shouts over the crackling sound of the first pancake hitting the hot skillet.

“The usual,” Hoseok jokes before pitching his voice into a slyer register. “How was the date?”

“It was fine,” Jungkook answers shyly, eyes glued to your silent form. The button down he’s wearing suddenly feels too tight and he undoes the top button to give himself some air. “How was your night?”

“Here, I’ll take over,” you mumble.

You take the spatula from Taehyung’s hand and motion for the guys to leave  the kitchen while you flip the pancakes. It’ll give you something to do, and Taehyung’s thoughtful enough to go without asking questions. They don’t move far and instead Hosoek and Taehyung crowd Jungkook just outside the kitchen doorframe. Hopefully none of them notice how you turn the heat down so you can listen better. A masochistic part of you is curious to know how the date went even if you’re not sure if you can face him without combusting.

“Come on, tell us what happened. It’s just us guys,” Hoseok hisses before remembering that you’re you and you’re probably listening. Suddenly he feels like a douche. “We’re all friends,” he corrects himself. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to be aware of your eavesdropping and complies.

“I…what do you wanna know?”

“Where’d you go?”

“To the movies. To see Cloud Break.”

Taehyung whistles lowly. “That’s supposed to be the number one date movie of the year.”

“It was very romantic,” Jungkook cracks a small, shy smile. “But I don’t think she really liked it.”

“Stil. Sounds like our boy is a real Casanova, huh?” Hoseok pats him roughly on the back with a wide grin. “The movies, though. Did you make it to third base?”

“Jeez, don’t sound so excited when you ask that,” Taehyung says with a cringe.

“What? I just wanna know if he’s any closer to swiping that V card. So,” Hoseok turns to stare, “Did you?”

“We’re taking it slow,” is all Jungkook says, eyes shifting behind the guys, towards you.

“Pancakes are ready,” you call from the kitchen. You figure it’s safe for you go back out, so you load a plate up with a tall stack and turn the stove off. Yoori’s head pops up at the sound of fresh food and hops up to come join you.

After you put the plate down, you wait until everyone is seated. Oddly enough, Jungkook and Yoori both sit on either side of the head of the table, leaving you to sit in between them.

“Thanks for cooking,” Jungkook mutters as soon as you sit down.

“No need to thank me. I’m just doing my part to have a fun Friday,” you answer awkwardly.

“These look better than the ones at Dreamies,” Yoori beams over at you. She cuts her pancakes happily before shoving a large, syrup-laden bite in her mouth. She gives you a cute thumbs up that breaks your serious mood for a moment.

You give her a warm squeeze on the shoulder. “Thanks for the high praise.”

“So, uh, what else have you guys been doing,” Jungkook inquires politely.

“Well,” Hoseok mentions nonchalantly through a full mouth, gesturing towards you. “I caught these two watching porn earlier when I came in with groceries. And this one couldn’t keep her hands off me after that.”

“Oh.” Jungkook’s cheeks start to heat as he looks between you and Hoseok and then you and Taehyung.

You almost choke on your own food as Hoseok’s words register. “That is so inaccurate. How are you so comfortable lying like that?”

“Is it not the truth? Kook, you even saw her when you came in. Seems like she’s a real minx when she gets going. Who knew all it took was Fifty Shades.”

Taehyung tries to come to your rescue. “We weren’t even watching Fifty Shades—”

“So, it was actual porn,” Hoseok’s eyes narrow at him suspiciously.

“Oh my god,” you raise your hands in surrender and then push your plate back. “I can’t do this. I’m freezing and you’re annoying. Tae, I’m stealing some clothes. Yoori, you look cold. I’ll bring you something too.” You storm out of the dining room and make a beeline for Taehyung’s room. 

While you were used to Hoseok’s ribbing, today you were extra sensitive to it and you needed some air. But you are actually cold, so you do spend a few minutes rummaging through Taehyung’s immaculate wardrobe until you find a sweater that has you smiling widely at the memories it evokes.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” you remark with arms out to showcase the sweater when you come back. The four of them all turn to see the sweater you’re wearing.

It’s a run-of-the-mill sweater until you look at the picture that’s been screen-printed onto the front. It’s a picture of you and Taehyung in your freshman year that was taken minutes after the annual Mud Run. It had been a split-second decision the two of you made after a terrible set of midterms, but the smiles on both of your slightly rounder and muddied faces don’t indicate any inkling of regret. You give Yoori the only cashmere you could find that wasn’t on the floor.

“Of course he still has it,” Hoseok smiles proudly, “I put my blood, sweat, and tears into making it. And I was there to take the fricking picture at the end of the race at 9 am on a Saturday. Do you not still have yours?”

“Sadly no. I lost mine when I moved into the sophomore dorms.”

“I wish I had been there to watch the race. I should have stayed on campus,” Jungkook chimes in, cheeks full of pancake.

“Yeah,” Hoseok counters, “But if you had stayed, you wouldn’t have ever gotten Yoori’s number in the first place. So, it all worked out in the end, right?”

Suddenly, you’re not hungry and the lively mood that the night started with has disappeared. Taehyung must sense the subtle downward shift in your shoulders and runs to get the bottle of wine Hoseok bought for you that’s been chilling in the fridge.

“Why don’t we play another game,” he suggests once he’s back at the table and filling your glass.

Yoori perks up. “That’s a great idea! Let’s play something old-school. Do you have any board games?”

“I don’t think either of us has played a board game since before 2010. Much less owned one,” Jungkook winces.

“Really? Well, it doesn’t have to be a board game. Why don’t we do another old-fashioned one. Like Charades.”

Hoseok places his head in his hands elegantly, face the picture of innocence. But you know better.

“Yoori, how do you feel about Truth or Dare?” You squeeze your eyes shut and hope she says she’s never heard of it. Or that she hates it.

“I love Truth or Dare! Let’s play once everyone’s done eating.”

You curse under your breath, but return her excited smile when she turns to you and fills your cup once more. As a safety precaution, you finish the single pancake you’d served yourself earlier before taking another sip. Its not that you’re hungry, but you’d rather not be drinking on a completely empty stomach.

When everyone has had their fill of food, new bottles of booze get taken with you to the living room. There, you all rearrange the couch and the various upholstered chairs that Taehyung has collected until everyone is seated comfortably. Taehyung sits down last because he was in his room searching for his trusted 20 sided die.

“Okay, who’s who?”

“I call 3’s,” Hoseok calls with a hand raised straight in the air.

“No way,” you huff, “You’ll have way too many chances to be It. Pick multiples of at least four or I’m banning you from playing.”

“You can’t ban me from playing. Tae, can she ban me from playing?”

“I’m gonna go ahead and say yeah,” Taehyung says casually. You smile at Hosoek smugly.

“Fine. I pick 5’s.”

“I’ll take 3’s,” Yoori says once she understands the rules you all are operating under. No one goes to argue against her.

“I call even primes,” you say. You’re really not interested in playing this game.

Hoseok rolls his eyes at you. “Why even play if you’re gonna be like that?”

“You’re both wrong,” Taehyun grins. “Odd primes is where it’s at.”

“I guess I’ll take leftovers,” Jungkook sighs. He’s equally unenthused to be playing, but mainly because every previous time he’s played the game, Taehyung has dared him to smack Hoseok’s ass as hard as possible. It never ends well. “What is that? 3, 4, 5, 8 and what else?”

“14 through 16,” you supply automatically.

“Wow,” Yoori coos and latches onto your arm. “You’re so smart.”

“Alright! If everyone has a number, let’s play,” Hoseok shouts.

In the first few rolls, Taehyung and Yoori get the majority of the turns. Yoori is kind and sticks with truths for the most part, forcing Taehyung to bring up the strawberry shaped birthmark on his ass and Jungkook to talk about how he still doesn’t know how to ride a bike. Things pick up a bit when Hoseok manages a roll and Taehyung makes the mistake of choosing Dare. In response, Hoseok tells Taehyung to pull down his pants and show everyone the birthmark. You and Yoori exchange wide glances and giggle quietly as Taehyung downs the rest of his drink for some liquid courage.

“Taehyung,” Yoori giggles behind your hand as you attempt to cover her eyes. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t feel comfortable.”

“I don’t think I have much of a choice,” he grumbles before turning to face away from the group. He tugs his pants and boxers down a few inches before the pert curve of his butt. There, just south of the equator on the globe of his ass lies a very strawberry-shaped birthmark.

Immediately, Yoori chokes on her drink trying, and failing, to stifle her laughter at the pure ridiculousness of the mark. Meanwhile, you aren’t doing much better.

You pull your lip between your teeth as you hold back the cackle you desperately wish to let out. Instead, you opt for reaching out and pinching at the nearest cheek. The way he jumps slightly out of your reach while cupping his junk and glaring weakly at you sends you over the edge.

“Not bad,” Yoori snorts out between giggles.

“Yeah, wait a minute.” You gasp. “You have a cute little ass, Tae. I thought you said you didn’t have time for the gym.”

Taehyung’s face flushes, but he still smiles a self-depricating smile as he pulls up his pants finally. “I don’t. This baby is 100% homegrown.”

“I see. Must be all the tater tots,” you say with tears nearly rolling down your cheeks.

“And all the La-Z boy sitting.”

“Nice.”

Jungkook huffs audibly. He crosses his arms as he watches the game unfold, suddenly infinitely less interested in playing than he was a few minutes ago. “This is stupid.”

“Are you not having fun?”

He turns to Yoori quickly while remembering that he’s seated next to her. His own cheeks color with a bit of shame that he’d been caught being petulant.

“It’s not that. I mean…I just thought this would be a bit more mature.”

Yoori cocks her head to the side to appraise him and takes a sip of wine. “Is Truth or Dare known for its sophisticated gameplay?” A reserved and unreadable smile tugs at the corner of her lips.

“Not really,” he stammers. “I just figured you wouldn’t be interested in immature stuff like this.”

“Hmm. I’m actually having quite a lot of fun. Don’t worry about me and loosen up.”

Jungkook swallows roughly and mentally chides himself for being weird. Even he’s not sure where the pouting spell came from. Regardless, he smothers down the party pooper vibes and tries to enjoy the game as best he can.

Taehyung rolls a 10 and pouts at not be able to get back at Yoori. After all the laughter and the handful of swipes she’d made at his birthmark, he’s eager to pay her back somehow. But all he can do is turn to Hoseok with a bored expression.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare. Do you worst!” Hoseok sits excitedly at the edge of his seat while waiting for Taehyung to come up with a juicy truth or dare.

“Uh, I don’t know, bro. I dare you to do, like, 30 pushups or something.”

“That’s such a shitty dare.”

“I couldn’t think of anything. I was hoping Yoori would roll so I could give her a taste of her own medicine,” he says while locking eyes with Yoori. The two engage in a semi-serious staring competition for a while before they break into laughter.

“This is bullshit,” Hoseok mumbles as he rises from his chair and gets into position to do the pushups.

The room is quiet while everyone waits for him to finish. Sound of his exertion floats over from his section of the circle and you swipe through your twitter feed in the meantime. But you become so engrossed in a recipe for spinach dip that you don’t realize Hoseok has rolled a 2 and is calling out to you.

“What,” you say, distracted by the amount of leafy greens going into the dip.

“Put your phone away,” Hoseok whines, “It’s game night rules.”

You don’t look up from your screen. “Doesn’t count when we’re not playing video games.”

“You suck.”

“So do you.”

“Truth or dare.”

“Dare,” you say on autopilot before realizing the mistake you’ve made.

You let your phone clatter to the ground and prepare to take back what you said, but you can see that its too late from the smirk Hoseok is wearing. It’s the worst kind, too. The smarmy one that lets you know he’s thinking about doing something greasy. You’re willing to bet all the money left in your student account balance that he’s going to dare you to show him your boobs.

“Dare you to kiss Yoori,” he says smugly, like he’s got you cornered.

You’re only slightly surprised and let out a breath of relief. The idea that he might dare you to shed your layers to sit in Taehyung’s freezing living room in just your bra and bottoms was really worrying you.

“Really, Hoseok? What are we, 13?”

Taehyung chimes in with concern. “Yeah. They might not be comfortable with that.”

“I’m fine with it,” Yoori perks up slightly in her seat.

“Okay,” Taehyung hesitates, “But Jungkook—”

“Might not approve of it? Why don’t we ask him,” she supplies before turning to Jungkook. “Kook, what do you think?”

“Well, I—”

“Why the hell would he care,” Hoseok cuts him off. “Dude, you don’t care, right? It’s harmless and its 2018.”

“Y-yeah, I guess.” He pushes his glasses up with his ring finger, a nervous tick you’re familiar with. Your first instinct is to go over and see what’s wrong, but you quell the urge. 

“Holy shit,” Hoseok mumbles to himself when he realizes this is really happening. You get up to join Yoori in the love seat she’s occupying. Before you can change your minds he speaks up. “No pecks. It has to be real.”

“Figured as much,” you roll your eyes and gesture for Yoori to scooch closer to you. She sends you a smile that’s hidden from the others by the shiny curtain of her hair. You mirror it back automatically.

“For 60 seconds,” Hoseok shouts. Yoori’s eyes widen at the time condition but she doesn’t say anything.

“That’s too much.”

“30 seconds, but you have to use tongue.”

“Hoseok!” You and Taehyung yell simultaneously.

“Fine,” he says before thinking for a beat. “45 seconds but no lame stuff. Final offer.”

You check in with Yoori to see if she objects, but she merely rests her cheek on your shoulder and gives you a thumbs up.

“Deal, you damn pervert.”

Hoseok scrambles to get his phone timer launched while you and Yoori arrange yourselves accordingly once and then a second time when Hoseok says he can’t see. You whisper an apology on his behalf, but Yoori waves it off and pulls you in with a gentle hand resting at the base of your neck. You can’t help but notice that even from a few inches away, her skin is flawless. Its almost unfair.

“Alright. Start.”

Yoori swoops in and immediately parts your lips with her own. They’re soft and taste like the moscato she’s been drinking, and it’s honestly a very tantalizing sensory experience. You let her take over, let her press you closer until her nose brushes your cheek and she sucks your lip into her mouth. It takes you by surprise and when you gasp softly, she teases the border of your lips with her tongue ever so lightly. You let out an appreciative hum, surprising yourself. She smiles, nearly breaking the kiss, before nipping at you once. Tentatively, you brush your tongue against hers. She surges forward and works over your mouth until the soft chiming of Hoseok’s alarm alerts you that the dare has been completed.

You pull away first with hot cheeks and a slightly swollen mouth. Yoori looks pleased with herself as she looks over your flustered state. Neither of you see any of the guys’ shocked, wistful expressions. Yoori moves to smooth down the flyaways she created when she pressed you into the seat’s upholstery.

“You kiss just like Jungkook,” she laughs before pulling away slightly. The others murmur in the background as they strain to listen in.

“Wait, what?” Her words are slow to register at first. “You guys have kissed?”

“Yeah. Loads of times,” she snickers, “On the way to the restaurant, in the parking lot of Dreamies, in the back of his car. My apartment. We’ve even—” She takes in the mortified look on your face and grimaces. “Oh gosh, I’m sorry. I know you don’t like to hear about this stuff. I’ll stop.”

You make mental note of all the occasions she’s mentioned. One of which was their first date. But just yesterday Jungkook had told you that they hadn’t even started holding hands as a couple. And while he hadn’t made a comment about anything else, the implication behind the statement was that they definitely hadn’t done anything more than that. Something about his more daring behavior struck you as unusual. But if he’d been getting other practice elsewhere, it wouldn’t be odd at all.

He had lied to you. And you wonder what else he’d been lying about.

When you turn around to face Jungkook, he looks pale and scared. You’ve only ever seen him look like that a handful of times and it was when he was in deep shit and it was his own fault. During those times, you’d somehow managed to show him why he was wrong while also making him feel supported. This time, though, there was no way you could do that. Not without throwing away what little dignity you have left from getting into this heinous arrangement in the first place.

Taehyung, Yoori, and Hoseok look on silently as you and Jungkook exchange the long look. Jungkook’s chest rises and falls rapidly as adrenaline runs through his system. When you stand up, he stands up at the same time, a hand instinctively reaching out.

You ignore him in favor of grabbing your things without a word and pulling up the bus schedule app on your phone. You’re not going to force yourself to wait around for an uber to pick you up, but you’re also not going to subject yourself to further torture by walking home in the middle of winter. Once you see that the next bus is coming in 20 minutes, you put on your jacket.

“I’m heading out. I’ll see you guys around.” You wince as your voice cracks a little bit, but don’t bother lingering to see if people noticed. You hurry out with the hopes that you can find a place to hide and wait for the bus before Jungkook can follow you out. He calls your name, softly at first, but you don’t acknowledge him.

But you don’t get any further than a few meters away down Taehyung’s hallway before Jungkook’s catching up after having sprinted out after you.

“Jungkook, stop,” is all you can trust yourself to say as you stare at your shoes.

“I can explain.”

“Fine.” You look up at him, gaze sharp. “Explain.”

He seems taken aback like he didn’t think you’d let him speak. His demeanor turns sheepish. “I didn’t mean to lie to you. It just...happened.”

“Do you think I’m stupid enough to believe that? You made a choice, Jungkook. It didn’t just happen. I want to know why you chose to lie.”

“I just…wasn’t ready for the weekends to stop.”

“Look, I get it. You got used to getting your rocks off. But we had a deal. It shouldn’t have mattered that you didn’t want it to end. As soon as you and Yoori got physical, we were supposed to go back to normal.”

“That’s not why I decided to lie,” he hisses.

“Then why did you?”

“Because!”

“Because?” You scoff. “That’s not an answer.”

“Because I,” he stammers, not sure of what to  to say. “I didn’t feel comfortable detailing mine and Yoori’s intimacy to you.”

“You didn’t feel comfortable?” Your voice is carefully low, but raises as you continue. “You didn’t feel comfortable telling me, the girl who has been your best friend since we were kids, about you and your new girlfriend? The girl who you had spit into your palm yesterday so you could jerk off in her bed yesterday? You didn’t feel fucking uncomfortable then, Jungkook!”

“Well, you’re always talking about my comfort. Shouldn’t it matter when I’m uncomfortable? Even if its at a weird time?”

“Fine. Let’s say you were uncomfortable. You still should have told me.”

“Why is it your business?”

Your jaw drops open. “Maybe because yours and Yoori’s relationship is the reason this whole thing started? And maybe because if you’re going to be running between the two of us and swapping bodily fluids, I should know? For my own fucking health?”

He stammers when he realizes that reason never came to mind once. Its a losing argument, he knows. As a last ditch effort, he turns things around.

“Is that the only reason why you’re mad? Because you think I would have given you an STD?”

“Are you serious,” your voice cracks again as tears take hold of you. “You think that’s all I care about?”

“You haven’t made any other points,” Jungkook sniffs like he’s indifferent to your shimmering eyes. “What else am I supposed to think? Is there something else?”

“I can’t believe someone so smart can be so stupid. You really don’t get it? I can’t keep sneaking around with you like this because you’re dating a girl who’s my friend now. But even if she weren’t, I can’t keep doing this because I have feelings—”

The front door opens and Hoseok slides through and closes it softly. He takes in your bowed shoulders, watery eyes, and shaking hands before pinning Jungkook with a glare that’s so potent he steps back a bit.

“You okay,” he nods his chin at you subtly.

“Y-yeah, Hobi. I’m fine. Me and Kook were just talking.”

“Just talking, huh?”

“Hoseok,” Jungkook grits through clenched teeth, anxious for you to continue what you were about to say. “Go back inside. This doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, I think it does. I mean, she’s my friend and you’ve been screwing her over figuratively and literally for the past month now, haven’t you?”

Your eyes widen and tears of embarrassment slip over your waterline. “You knew?”

“Of fucking course, I knew. You were walking around like you were suddenly getting laid and Kook was showing up to TA sessions with hickies on his neck the week after we made a joke about you taking his V card off his hands. All at the same time that you magically have to start staying over after game night at his place for tutoring,” he spits the word out. “You’re the smartest girl I know. There’s no way you actually have that much to learn from Kook of all people.”

“Oh, come on,” Jungkook drawls and steps in between you and Hosoek. “Don’t pretend to care about her now.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“You’re always picking fights with her. You don’t care what’s going here, you’re just trying to feed the flames.”

“Kook, stop,” you rasp from behind him, but he ignores you and shoves a hand into the center of Hoseok’s chest.

“Say more,” Hoseok smiles darkly, egging him on. The two of them stand inches apart, each one poised to attack the other at a moment’s notice.

“You’ve been itching to see things fall apart for me because you can’t handle being the oldest and the least accomplished in the group.” You try not to gasp but it’s hard because you’ve never heard him say something so nasty to anyone, let alone to someone you would both call a friend. “You’re just mad that your…your indifferent stoner, beta cool guy act hasn’t paid off and you’re still alone with your hand on the weekends. I can tell when someone wants what I have. You’re like every other stupid bully from high school, but with none of the popularity.”

Your mouth drops open, but you can’t find any words to stop the situation from escalating any further. Jungkook smirks at his silence. But Hoseok merely raises a casual eyebrow before turning to look down at you from over Jungkook’s shoulder.

“If you wanted sex that badly, you could have just come to me, you know. Offer still stands now, too.”

Before you can counter anything either of them has said, Jungkook’s fist collides with Hoseok’s jaw. The sound resonates in the empty hallway with a loud crunching sound followed by Hoseok tumbling to the floor and Jungkook yowling in pain at his damaged knuckles. Jungkook automatically turns to you, grimacing and cradling his hand, but you swerve past him to check on Hoseok.

He’s still very much conscious, but the blow took him by surprise and he lost his balance. There’s a little bit of blood when Jungkook’s fist split the skin on the side of Hoseok’s jawline and you can tell already that there will be swelling and bruising. But he should be fine and he doesn’t show any of the signs of concussion that you remember reading about a while ago.

You pull him up by the hand and sling his arm over your shoulder when he stumbles once upright. Together you hobble back into the apartment. Taehyung and Yoori are sitting stiffly at the dining room table when you come in and both rush forward to help you. Jungkook shuffles in after, at a loss for what’s going on.

Wrapping a bag of frozen vegetables from Taehyung’s freezer in a dish towel, you tend to Hoseok’s minor wounds. Taehyung looks tired and frantic as he looks at his friend in pain.

“I don’t get it. What happened out there?”

You hang your head in shame and to avoid both Taehyung and Hoseok’s watchful gazes. Thankfully Hoseok doesn’t say anything, but you’re so embarrassed and disoriented that nothing satisfying comes out.

“They were fighting. And Jungkook punched him.”

“But why would he do that? Hoseok, did you say something?”

“Don’t blame Hobi, he was trying to help me,” you whisper so Yoori can’t hear. You’re not sure you can handle breaking the news to everyone just yet. “Tae, I haven’t been honest with you a while now. Things have been going on between me and Kook and it hasn’t been right. All I can say is that I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but its been eating me up.” 

Jungkook watches as Yoori stands off to the side, looking lost and a little out of place as she tries to parse out where the boundaries for her are. She looks between you and him with uncertainty in her eyes before she finally comes over to check in with him first. He waves her off and watches her naturally gravitate towards you.

When Yoori comes asking you what’s happened with worry in her eyes, you look back at Jungkook for a moment before bawling your eyes out in the middle of the kitchen. Yoori envelopes you in a hug immediately, and you let her comfort you despite the fact that you’ve been secretly highjacking her relationship. Sobs wrack your body for a moment before your phone chimes to let you know your bus is coming soon.

You whisper in her ear that you’re sorry and you’ll explain when it’s the right time. You squeeze her soft hands to your cheek and stutter out that you don’t deserve a friend like her, but that you hope you can remedy that sooner rather than later. With that, you whisper a goodbye and head out, giving Jungkook a wide berth.

He turns around just in time for him to catch one last glimpse of you before the door swings shut behind you.

[drrrsecretsanta2019]

For Sumi!!

For @dotaccino who wanted ChikageXKyoheiXShizuo, and also a little bit of van gang as well! I’ve never written for Chikage so I hope you’ll forgive my inaccuracies!

Chikage Rokujo happened to be in Ikebukuro that day. Well, he didn’t happen to be there, he had planned on going and came. It was the first time he’d come it seemed without having some serious business to take care of. He took his time, admiring the ladies he saw and stopping in a gift shop to pick up a handful of keychains for the honeys; each a different color to match their individual personalities of course. He wandered around for sometime after that, wondering if there was a café nearby where he could relax when he heard a voice.

“Well well, look who it is,” Kyohei Kadota’s deep appealing voice stuck out of the crowd. “Haven’t seen you around in a while, Rokujo.”

“Kyohei,” Chikage’s smile was completely blasé. “Been a while. You not dead yet?”

“Yeah you wish.” Kyohei grinned and the two men exchanged a high five.

“Oh wow Dotachiin, what a shonen interaction between you two. Don’t you know your audience demands a more affectionate reunion after you haven’t seen a dear acquaintance in so long?” Kyohei’s friend, Erika Karisawa hung out in their typical van off to the side along with the remaining two members of Kyohei’s posse.

“Don’t even start with your jokes,” Kyohei said with a dry frown, but when he looked back at Chikage to apologize he saw the other with his arms outstretched smiling widely at him.

“Come on man, you heard the lady,” Chikage grinned at him, “She wants a show.”

Erika’s eyes practically glittered. Kyohei looked back and forth helplessly between the two.

“Seriously?!” Kyohei demanded.

“What can I say man? I live to serve the ladies. Now bring it in.”

Kyohei looked severely conflicted, glancing back and forth around the street and making sure the van covered them as he went in for a quick hug with Chikage. In the front of the van, the driver Saburo whistled teasingly.

“Ahhhhh, now that’s what I call true male bonding!” Erika gushed, “But you know I think you two should take it one step farther! Lock hands take a long walk through the streets and catch up to each other. Truly get to know each other, and at the end of the day…!”

At this point Karisawa was just teasing Kyohei but said tactic was working perfectly as the other got increasingly more flustered. Chikage chuckled, giving her a good-natured smile.

“It’s good that you have this guy so wrapped around your finger. Kyohei needs a strong-willed woman to keep him in check.”

“Hm?” Erika blushed a little bit before waving him off. “Oh I don’t boss him around or anything! Dotachiin is just so earnest that he’s fun to tease.”

“Yeah I figured that out too,” Chikage grinned in Kyohei’s direction.

“Hey what are you doing agreeing with her? Don’t you know it’ll only make her ten times worse?” Kyohei sighed, but then he recovered greatly so he could ask. “So what are you doing in the city, man?” “Huh? Oh I was just shopping around.”

“Without your girlfriends?” Walker Yumasaki finally spoke up from the van where he had previously been immersed in his manga.

“Huh? Oh yeah, they’ve all got class or work today, and I had some time to kill so.”

“I see,” Kyohei said with an air of seriousness. “Well it’s been quiet around here lately, so it would be a bit of a shame if that were to suddenly come to an end.”

“It’s nothing like that,” Chikage reassured him. “I was actually just in the neighborhood for a good café. You guys know any?”

“Yeah there’s a great place down the street!” Erika gushed, pulling out a sheet of paper and a pen. “I’ll write down the address.”

“Oh yeah thanks. I’m not great with directions, but I’ll definitely find it so you won’t have wasted your time.”

“Dotachiin can walk you!” Erika offered.

“Wha-?”

“You two can share a sundae!” she teased, handing the address to Kyohei, who took it dumbfoundedly.

“H-Hey, or we could all just take him in the va…”

“Nope!” Erika insisted, “Saburo is taking me and Yumacchi to a book signing three streets over. We’ll see the two of you in an hour or so!”

“B-But…! H-Hey! Wait a second!” But before Kyohei could manage out so much as a coherent thought Erika shut the door and ushered Saburo into motion. The van started suddenly heading down the road and Kyohei and Chikage looked on with the most exasperated looks on their faces.

“Man, why does she have to make it so weird?” Kyohei grumbled, but Chikage laughed.

“What, you don’t want to share a sundae with me?”

“H-Huh?”

“I’m just kidding man,” but Chikage’s face was more mysterious than it first seemed. Kyohei scoffed.

“Yeah fine whatever, I’ll lead the way, Mr. Bad-with-directions.”

Chikage grinned and Kyohei led him through the streets of Ikebukuro to the café Erika mentioned.

“Erika and Walker drag us to a lot of weird places, but this place is pretty nice,” Kyohei confessed. “They actually make pretty good tour guides of Ikebukuro.”

“You don’t say. So uh, Erika and Walker, are they…?”

“Otakus? I guess so.”

“So not what I was asking,” Chikage laughed.

“Oh sorry, what did you…?”

“I mean it’s just that they’re very similar.”

“Uh huh?”

“And have similar personalities.”

“Hm.”

“And mesh so well together that I thought…”

“Kyohei.”

“Huh?”

            A sudden voice beside them at the café entrance surprised them. Chikage turned to the sound of this attractive voice, nearly as deep and definitely as attractive as Kyohei’s, and nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Oh hey Shizuo. Been a while.”

“Yeah it has.”

“Sh-Shizuo.” Chikage manages. Shizuo raises an eyebrow.

“Do I know you?”

“Uhh… you probably don’t remember.” Chikage admits.

“Huh? Oh yeah, you’re that toramada guy.”

“Toramaru.” Chikage corrected exasperatedly. If this were anybody but Shizuo Heiwajima Chikage would have thought that jip was on purpose.

“Oops. What are you two doing together?”

“Getting a sundae,” Kyohei says, the more laid back one now that Shizuo has arrived. Bastard, Chikage can’t help but think. He couldn’t imagine how anyone could be so laid back against Shizuo Heiwajima of all people. “Wanna join us?”

“Huh? Oh sure.” Shizuo replies, much to both of their surprise.

“Really?” Chikage asks.

“Yeah I like to come here from time to time. I just got a bonus for a job well done this month, so I thought I’d treat myself. I didn’t know you liked this place, Kyohei.”

“Erika and Walker like to come here because they have a leave one take one manga shelf in the back.”

“Oh they do? Huh.”

They sat down at a table in the back and a waitress came to get their order. Chikage had never felt more awkward and cramped in his life. It was so strange being here with two dudes instead of a pack of girls.

But then again, it didn’t feel bad that they were dudes.

“You got a big sweet tooth, Heiwajima?” Chikage asked.

“Hm? Yeah I guess so.”

“Ah, so I guess you want your sundae all to yourself then?”

“Hah? Oh I guess we could all get a different flavor and share them all.”

“Jeez, how much ice cream do you need?” Kyohei said with a raised eyebrow.

“Hm? I guess I’m not used to getting treats that often.”

“Me neither man,” Chikage said, “It’s normally all for my honeys but today I say we do it.”

“Hm? Yeah okay, we can both get big sundaes.”

“Seriously?” Kyohei sighed, “You’re both gonna make me look like a chump if I just get something small.”

“So then don’t be a coward.”

“Watch it. Alright, let’s do it.”

Chikage and Kyohei exchanged competitive glares. Shizuo for his part was completely clueless. It was odd how natural it was for the three of them to be a team. Chikage basked in the moment, and vowed to remember the time he spent with two of the most powerful people in Ikebukuro.

[glow-worm]

Powerless Ch. 3/4

(Read the rest on tumblr or on AO3 )

Barry showered, then went to bed himself—if only for a few hours. When he woke up, everyone was still asleep.

Given the hour, it was mildly concerning.

He checked on Davenport again, who did look better: less pale, resting easier.

He even popped in to Lucretia’s room, opening her door as noiselessly as possible. She was sleeping on top of her still-made bed, with the lights on in her room. He checked to make sure she was breathing, then shut the lights.

Then he hesitantly opened Lup’s door.

She was lying far to the side of her bed, eyes closed in meditation.

She had left room on her bed for someone to climb in and lay next to her.

His heart swelled, wondering for a moment if that space was meant for him—but remembered the few times Lup and Taako had been separated on missions, or when he had checked in on them while they tranced. They always left space for each other, instinctually, just in case one needed the other.

Still, he let his imagination run wild for a moment. He thought about being bold and climbing into the bed. After all, she had offered. And in her semi-conscious trance she certainly knew by now that he was here, yet she didn’t say anything.

No. It wasn’t right. If she was being affectionate it was because she needed comfort. She just lost her brother. She wasn’t in a good state of mind…it wouldn’t be right.

He closed the door.

Barry made breakfast.

It wasn’t great, but everyone needed to eat. Lup needed to eat.

He returned to her room and was about to knock on the door to tell her to come eat with everyone, but something was off.

A bit early to use a spell slot, but Barry Detected that Lup’s room had been Silenced.

He chewed on his lip, then shoved his hands into his jean pockets in defeat. It wouldn’t be right to barge in. He would have to just come back in ten minutes. Hopefully everything was alright. Barry sighed, and went back to the kitchen.

Lup was screaming. Tears streamed down her face. She tore things apart as she shouted at the top of her lungs.

When she had finished her meditation, she sat and thought about the previous day’s events a little more clearly.

Taako was gone.

Gone in a flash, and she was powerless to stop it.

And her grief made her powerless to fight back. Powerless to protect her friends.

She ripped pages out of an old notebook and burned them.

She threw things against the wall, she punched a pillow over and over and over again until she was worn out, her arms trembling. Her injuries throbbed against their wrappings in protest of her exertion.

She was going to find those drow.

And she was going to make them wish they had never laid eyes on her brother.

Lup didn’t bother cleaning up. She opened her door and swiftly closed it behind her, then noticed Barry standing in the hall with a tray of food.

She softened at the sight of him.

“Oh! H-hey, I, uh...” he stumbled awkwardly. “I brought you some breakfast? I know you probably don’t think you’re hungry, so, uh, I kept it light.”

He was right, she definitely didn’t feel hungry.

But, she hadn’t eaten since before they went out yesterday.

“Lucretia and Dav are up,” Barry said. “But you can eat in your room if you want some space.”

Lup quickly shuffled away from her door as if the mess behind it would disappear if no one else noticed it.

“Nah,” she said. “I’ll come out with you guys.”

So she joined the others in the kitchen and forced herself to pick at the food on her plate. It was just two eggs, sunny side up, with a little toast and coffee. Once she started eating she realized how hungry she was, so she finished everything on her plate—though she ate slowly, staring off into space as she did so.

Lucretia peeled an apple for her and put the slices on her plate, which Lup snacked on in a daze, tuning out the conversation around her.

In spite of her haze, she did take note before she retreated back to her disaster of a cabin that Davenport was walking with a crutch, his entire torso wrapped in bandages under his unbuttoned IPRE jacket. His movements were slow; when he stood up and walked he seemed to be in pain.

It hurt her to see him in such a state. She vaguely thought about asking Taako to help her make their captain's favorite dish--then balled her hands into fists and quickly went back to her room.

Lup was fairly withdrawn for a few days. The crew gave her some space, but after a while they collectively decided that Lup would have enough alone time while the others slept. So during the day, Lup had nearly constant companionship.

At night, she would prep food. Then when it was finally time for her to rest, she would instinctively leave space for Taako.

Barry tried to fill that space, in spirit, during the day.

And on more than one occasion, Lup invited him to fill that space at night.

Still, she was much more aloof than normal—which was completely understandable—and Barry witnessed two separate occasions where she turned around to make a comment or quip to her brother and froze when no one was there.

Not unlike how Taako was when Lup died, Lup became relatively snarkier in general and was much more prone to irritation.

What concerned Barry the most, though, was her behavior out in the field.

Without Lup, Taako became more cautious—seldom leaving the ship, reluctant to go on any adventures.

Without Taako, Lup—already a reckless person to begin with—needlessly threw herself into danger without a second thought.

The remaining four crew members tried to stay safe on the ship as often as possible. Davenport, unable to move properly, did not leave the Starblaster again for the rest of the cycle.

So when they did need to leave the ship, they would only send two—and Lup insisted that she should go every time.

Nearly two months later, she and Barry were out on the planet’s surface when they encountered another vengeful drow. Barry swiftly pulled out his wand, ready to Teleport—but Lup had different plans.

He watched in stunned dismay as she charged the drow head on with a branch she picked up off the ground, swinging it into his face and leaving herself wide open to a Magic Missile-style curse that sent her flying backwards.

Barry rushed to her side to help her up, but not without comment.

“Why—Lup, what the hell? Why didn’t you just cast something?” He asked.

“I left my wand on the ship,” she admitted.

“Wha—okay, say something next time?” Barry urged, exasperated. “Let’s get out of here, we’ll never beat him if you can’t ca—Lup! Stop!”

Lup chucked a rock at the drow.

Without another word, Barry seized her and cast Teleport.

They resurfaced back on the deck of the Starblaster, with Lup leaning back on the floor and Barry over her on his hands and knees.

He sat back on his ankles and put his hands on her shoulders, gripping them lightly.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?!” Barry demanded in frustration.

Lup wasn’t one to show embarrassment, but she showed something close to it now as her eyes darted away from Barry.

He paused, dropping the tension in his shoulders as he unraveled the realization forming in his mind. He let go of her, the irritation on his face giving way to pain.

“...Are you?” He asked quietly.

“Of course not,” Lup grumbled. “I just wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry.”

Barry wasn’t convinced. He pulled her into a hug and just held her for a few moments before she wormed her way out of his arms.

“Dude,” she said. “It was a mistake. I said I was sorry. Let me get my wand so we can go back out there.”

He looked embarrassed for a moment, but half a second later he narrowed his eyes in chagrin, his mouth half open.

“Go—go back?! Lup, we’re not going back there,” Barry asserted. “Not when we know there are drow.”

“I’m not afraid of the drow,” Lup declared under her breath.

“Well you should be!” Barry retorted. “We are not going back. If anything happens to us, you think it’d be fair to leave Creesh and Dav by themselves for the rest of the cycle?! Capn’port’s having a hard enough time as it is.”

He waited for her to speak, but she didn’t. So he went on, “And also? We shouldn’t die when we don’t have to! You can’t ask me to watch you throw your life away for a stupid revenge scheme.”

“I wasn’t—that’s not—” Lup stammered.

“Sometimes you’re worse than Magnus,” Barry shook his head. “There is no reason to fight these guys. We wanted to study them, it’s clear that is not going to happen. They’ve already taken out three of us—if all seven of us get killed, it’s over for real. And I don’t know about you, but this is not a plane I’d like to perma-die on.”

“I get it, Bluejeans,” Lup asserted, her palms up in surrender. “Let’s go inside.”

Barry put his foot down the next time Lup volunteered to go out. Luckily, she didn’t argue.

The rest of the cycle was uneventful. They never found the Light of Creation. Barry felt guilty about that—after all, some of the drow had been relatively personable to them, and it wasn’t the whole civilization’s fault that a handful of folks had completely decimated the plane’s only hope.

Overthinking was pointless, though. They’d done this many times and would have to do it many times more. There had been and would be many more deserving planes that the IPRE would fail to save.

When the Hunger came, the Starblaster and its crew left with few regrets.

[hollowphobia-casual]

The Amazing World Of Friendship Part MMXIX, The Return Of The Rising Awakened Empire

It’s that time of year again! The time I let down my defences and expose my emotions bare to all my friends so that I may thank and gush all over them, because despite my cynical hate filled shell, deep, deep, deep, deep, deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep down I’m actually someone who just wants to be loved, maybe.

But joking and honest truths disguised as jokes aside, there is something I would like to say, most of the time.., I feel like I have imposter syndrome, not regarding my art and my work, but with my friends! I have SO many wonderful friends and I honestly love them to bits and yet every year due to work, time zones, time schedules or just my inability to start a conversation I don’t get to talk to them or they go neglected for ages and I hate that so much about myself. My friends, all of them, are such wonderful people and they deserve so much better than what I give them, I love you guys, so very much..., I’m sorry for being such a terrible friend.

THAT SAID! It’s time to embarrass these lovely losers by letting them know just how much I care, kukuku.

@articbleu​ [Twitter]

Hah! Speaking of friends whom I’m constantly feel like I am neglecting, where do I begin without feeling like I’m treading over the same ground? You are one of the many artists whom I consider an inspiration, your dedication, drive and sheer will is aweing inspiring, like, I dunno if I can ever get over how much I think about it, I remember a time where we were both almost at the same level and now you are off doing who knows what, last I checked, you were studying in Korea, which is awesome, I’m so happy for you. But when ever I’m working and I feel like I can’t achieve, I look to you and tell myself, I can do better. I dunno if we’ll ever talk like we used to, so much time has passed since we last spoke, I dunno if we are the same people and there are times when I look back on my past, things I said that I regret and wonder if maybe you shouldn’t be my friend, not because I hate you, but because there are better people than me, who are more deserving of your attention, admiration and so much more, but regardless of what comes and what may happen, you have been or are, my friend and I love you, please, keep shooting like the star you are!

@nightmargin​ [twitter]

Okay, imagine this, so you met this cool girl who likes to draw weird, amazing and beautiful things on Deviantart, you enter a character tournament two with them, you chat about anime and stuff, then just a few years later THEY RELEASE ONE MOST ACCLAIMED INDIE GAMES KNOWN, like Whaaaaa-, there is not a day that goes by I don’t see One Shot stuff like, wha-, I dunno.., and she’s still making stuff it’s fucking incredible, WHY ARE MY FRIENDS SO TALENTED.., hah, go damit didn’t want to be melancholy.. ..,But like, shit, I just want to support my friends and let them know how much I give a shit, just how impressed I am, how happy for them I am but truth is I hardly get to see them, which is not your fault, you are making games, doing art, and having to be a social media presence, it’s exhausting, I understand, I just hope you know that I care still, that when I see your characters around the web, in fanart, in VRchat and other places, it makes me SO happy, I just want to hug you and let you know that you are doing an amazing job and that I couldn’t be more proud of you, I hope you know that.

@doodlediddy​ @doodledittydaisy​ [Twitter]

AAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!! Okay so, this is a friend where neither of us are to blame for staying out of touch because, HOLY FUCK YOU HAVE A BABY! AAAAA, you made a little person and they are so cute! On the rare occasion I go onto the hellsite that is Facebook, I get to catch glimpses of you and your lovely child, whom I terribly do not know the name or gender of A+ friendship right there, but yeah, GURL, you have an infant and they are precious, I don’t blame you for a second for not being in touch, it feels so weird, not too many years ago you were talking me off the ledge and then you got married, then you got baby fat AND NOT IT’S ESCAPE! I’m so happy for your family, fuck, that’s so weird, it’s YOUR family, not your family, YOUR FAMILY! AAAAaaaaa!

@mistercrowbar​ [Twitter]

I MET HER!, I MET HER!, I MET HER! No you guys don’t understand, I MET CROWBAR AND IT WAS FUCKING AWESOME! We looked at beautiful lakes, we watched netflix, We ate burgers, looked at destroyed cranes, went to Ikea, watched more netflix, bought DnD stuff, ate more burgers, tried a beaver tail, more netflix, talked about lobsters and my little pony, looked at fossils, got mad at the ocean, yelled at drivers, more netflix… It was great, I loved it, would sleep on the floor again, 10/10. But Okay so I know that many people would think of Crowbar as intimidating, she’s not an emotionally open person I know, but to be honest it just makes friendship with her special, getting to know her on a level where you can read her is something that is truly treasurable and I’m so lucky to have that, she’s a unique person to love and that’s what's so great about her, she isn’t like everyone else, I wouldn’t change her for anything in the world…, okay maybe I’d allow her let me hug her more so I can tell her how great she is and she can’t flee, haha. I know I get on her nerves sometimes and I’m probably not the best friend on her list, I mean, I’m guessing, but considering how I measure up to some of the other people she knows, I can easily see that, I mean who knows thow, maybe I’m not a tier friend and maybe just a different friend and I just.., haha, I dunno why I obsess over this, how important I am to my friends, maybe because I just want them to be the happiest they can be and when I know I’m depriving them of joy, I question myself. But I am happy for what happiness I do bring to her, the moments I’m useful, when I am needed or just enjoyable company, those are the best moments for me, I’d give anything just to hear Crowbar laugh once every day, that’s how important of a friend she is to me.

@valbey-the-girl​ [twitter]

THIS ASSHOLE! Has been with me since I can remember, which probably annoys him, because I’m not the easiest person to friends with, specially of late, my mood has been all over the fucking place, I’m happy, sad, depressed, angry, frustated and yet he doesn’t complain…, that I know of.., and in return.., I send him lewd christmas gifts that make his parents question him and his life choices. Haha, friendship. But honestly, I like that about him, he’s one of the true people I know that makes me feel like we have a ‘normal’ friendship, we are not overly affectionate, we can speak openly to one another and we don’t like all of them same things and all I want to do is make him laugh and find a game that I’m good at and that he sucks at, because god damit, he seems like he’s an expert at everything, fuck you! I know times right now are tough for you, I can’t imagine it’s easy, shits going down at home, work and there is some asshole asking if your free once every Saturday so you can pretend to be a dwarf, just know if you need anything, you can always ask me, you’ve been there for me, don’t forget I’m here for you.

@dansome0203 [Twitter]

Don’t say how you are terrible friend because you haven’t been talking to him much, you say it every year, Don’t say how you are terrible friend because you haven’t been talking to him much, you say it every year, Don’t say how you are terrible friend because you haven’t been talking to him much, you say it every year,... -checks Script- “I’m a terrible Friend..” FUCK. -inhale- The man I look to for inspiration on cute girls and large boobs! God, I only really got to know this guy at the tail end of my Deviantart carrier before the big move to Tumblr and even then it was less a ‘WE ARE FRIENDS SWORN TO A BLOOD OATH’ and more me oddly poking him now and again, trying to start a conversation failing miserably, a tradition that would continue for about…, nine years…, nine years.. God I am a terrible friend. But enough about my inability to simply converse with people, what can I say about this Dan, he’s fucking great to start with, on the odd times I do actually get to talk to him I know he is nothing more than a chill dude who creates a lovely and warm atmosphere around him that draws people in, he has a fantastic sense of humour which is only equaled by his creative flair, no I’m not talking about the boobs, but more his designs for his characters, colour choices and so much more, I am honestly not joking when I say that I look at this guys work for inspiration from time to time, because I find his designs just that appealing and insightful. I would love for nothing than to just sit in a call with this guy and talk shop, or talk, or anything…, I wanna love you Dan, let me love you!

Gwyn Graham

And right of the gates… I FORGOT WHAT THERE TUMBLR USERNAME IS GOD DAMMIT! So for once me being a bad friend is entirely my fault!, we’ve always had a rocky time zone/schedule conflict even when we use to play DnD with each other, because life sadly, is not easy, fuck I wish it was. But also sadly I dunno what you’ve been up to, I dunno how you have been. I hope you are well and happy, did you get date? Are you on the lamb for murder? Who knows, but I like to think you are happy, I hope you are, I wish that you are.

@taplaos @tapliciousart [Twitter]

I bought three shirts from you and my father ignored the washing instructions so they are now basically ruined.-sigh- That said they are some amazing fucking shirts, so gonna try and be less of a downer here, but yes, like most of my friends, I am terribly out of touch with this wonderful person, HOWEVER, they have been fucking busy, designing some of the sickest Pokemon related merchandise I’ve ever seen, two things immediately come to mind when ever I see their amazing work up on my twitter, one… Why have Nintendo/Game Freak issued a take down notice and second, WHY HAVEN’T THEY HIRED YOU and I don’t mean that in a fanboy sort of, I love you pay attention to me sort of way, I actually mean that, your designs are so appealing, humorous, creative and at the same time, family friendly, like, there is such a demand for Pokemon related merchandise and you are just popping it out like nobody's business, christ, you are too good at this, it’s why I really need to sit down and talk to you about helping me design T-shirts at some point. Honestly, if you haven’t, go check out their stuff, seriously, do it, DO IT NOW!

@tuz-ohtopia @dm-tuz [Twitter] [Patreon]

When I started out I was ‘aware’ of Tuzzy, but I didn’t really know him, it wasn’t until I started getting involved with DnD that I started to know him and that was because he was the DM of my two other friends, so sadly I can never say that me and Tuzo have had the strongest of friendships. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not saying I dislike Tuzo, I think the guy is great, the times we’ve actually spoken it’s been fantastic and talking shop with him was always a highlight, but it just.., amazes me, how I guy I barely knew went from a simple background presence to almost being everywhere I look. For you who don’t know, Tuzo is now a DM for hire and even has a Patreon where he offers up custom monsters, tiles and such, it’s so amazing to see how far he has come, it’s great, even if he has an unhealthy obsession with a lesser version of DnD, haha. I’m so proud of him and his unbound campaign is so enjoyable, experiencing it though his players is incredible and the assets he creates are outstanding, I just wish I had his time management, because I can not create assets to the same level or detail he does. This man has inspired me as a DM, an artist and a creator, and I don’t know if he is even aware that he has done that, Tuzo, keep doing what you're doing, because it’s amazing.

@nickala [Twitter]

Nicki’s Twitter describes her as a wannabe concept artist and an actual scientist and I’m probably the reverse haha, a wannabe scientist, god I love Nicki’s job, I really should talk to her about it, but then again I dunno how much of it she is allowed to openly discuss, she is after all handling human remains, so… I’ve mentioned it before, but I love Nicki, she makes life, make sense and it’s great, but more importantly than that, she’s just.., fantastic, funny, caring, but human. Like she feels so relatable with how she expresses herself, everything comes with a little frustration, a little guilt and honesty, which might sound like a weird thing to admire, but there are so many people these days who want to be fake, they want to be these, ideal versions that don’t exist, trying so hard and it becomes, exhausting and almost impossible to talk to them, because they wear a mask and you don’t know what their true intentions are. But not with Nicki, they talk and you can feel that raw emotion, it’s so satisfying to read text, to hear a voice and just know the complexity of a person, it’s refreshing and I cherish it.., even if I don’t talk to them that often.., I’m a sham of a friend -cries-

@mortooncian-art [Twitter]

I just met this lovely gal this year and…, I’m as bad with talking to them as I am with Dan…, I hope it doesn’t continue for about nine years…, I don’t want to be awkwardly skirting conversations at 37.

Sadly I can’t say much of them as a person, mostly because I’ve only really gotten to meet them this year, the aforementioned being a terrible person/friend, but I can talk about what drew me to them, because I was always aware of Thren? Mortoon?...uh.. Oh god I dunno what to call them..FU- I had always been aware of them since Deviantart and their art was appealing I just never made the leap to try and talk to them, because COWARD, it wasn’t until sometime last year, I can’t recall who but someone was reblogging their work, I believe it was Dan or Calien, it was from his DnD session and her little tiefling was just.., so..fucking CUTE! I loved her and wanted to know so much about her and looking into her work I found more and more cute loveable characters, and I dunno how to describe it, but her art just has this beautiful, cute and sexy charm to it that makes you just want to.. LIKE AND REBLOG IT… So after that, I just wanted to get know her, it seems so stupid thinking about it, liking someones art you think to yourself, hey I want to know this person on a personal level and maybe talk to them! And then, you get it and you clam up due to your social awkwardness and inability to manage a time schedule, haha.. But yes, I’m so glad I’ve been given a chance to talk to her, maybe if time allows it, I won’t screw it up in getting to be her friend.

@clauseart [Twitter] [Webcomic]

Yes, my fellow british artist whom I constantly compare myself against to measure my self success and my constantly conclude my lack of value… ...That’s not a joke I really do do this. Enough about me, I’ve mentioned it before with a few.., or most.., artist here, met on DA and look at where they are now, this girl, this them, this BEAST, started out with a crazy pinwheel and appearing in almost every OCT (Original Character Tournament) you can think of and now, they have an amazing webcomic about an amazing buff ginger and a kid whom I dislike (I’m sorry, I just wanna punch him,). Also a DnD character who seems from a distance seems like the drunk aunt who hates her family children.., I dunno I know nothing about their character and I really should ask someone, but if I’m right I want a gold star. But regardless, I am so proud of them, their creativity and artistic skill seems to have nothing but skyrocketed since the end of the OCT era of our lives and the dawn of tumblr, not to mention the just general progression of their comics, which I will leave a link to and if you don’t read this super funny and amazingly well drawn comic I will.. I really want to say more about them, I do! Sadly, I consider myself a friend, but I dunno if I even have that right, our friendship was very, distant, not in a negative way, but more like someone you chat to in a tescos (For any curious americans think Walmart), and now, I feel like I’m just a one man cheer squad. And honestly, I am okay with that, I get to see them improve and feel proud for them and they have a wonderful life as it is, what's more to want?

@lou0 @hunnylou0 [Twitter]

Lou has been one of my longest…, acquaintances? Okay I’m not saying that Lou isn’t a friend, I mean, I consider her a friend, but I’ve known her since I rejoined DA under the name Clockworkable, since then she’s been a source Joy, laughter, inspiration and to some extent a free expression, but, I could never feel like I was her equal or at least a friend, we were never close, despite how I tried to be.., she’s a difficult person to talk to, which isn’t her fault! Nothing ever seems to go her way, which.. Pisses me off so much, because she’s just a nice, beautiful and kind person who just deserves nothing but affection and I’d love to give it to her, even if it’s just a hug. But I know it can be hard.. That said, I’ve gotten the chance to really talk to her, getting to know her, the true her and it’s as wonderful as you’d think it would be, she is a true expression of her art, joyful, cheeky, funny, playful and kind, sweet, brutally honest, but that’s never a bad thing in my books. I dunno even now if I’m a good friend to her, I dunno if she’d even think of me as one, but I am happy that I’m a little bit here for her, more than I was before, I just want to make her happy.

@sunshinedrago [twitter]

Don’t be friends with this woman, it starts off small like “Oh, would you like to play Final Fantasy XIV?” and then the next thing you know your talking to scottish fairies and questioning your life decisions. I met this crazy spanish.. “ITALIAN!” Italian woman about three.., maybe four years ago? I can’t even remember how we met, like I know we met because we needed someone for a DnD game, but I can’t recall if it was me she contacted or someone else, haha, I’m getting old. Either way it doesn’t matter, because I’m so happy that I did, she’s encouraging, kind, sympathetic, honest and joyful, but more importantly realistic and down to earth, this woman is not a pity party and has introduced me to some of the most important anime and shows I could imagine, as well as help fueled my addiction to some games, a few years back I’d never played an MMO and now look at me...a broken shell of my former self…, obsessing over loot drops and glamorous for a fictional 3D bunny girl…She’s also one of my more active and talkative friends, which helps with my crippling depression haha, I dunno what else to say, It’s not like there isn’t a lot to say, just that I’ve said it over and over again, she’s a great friend and someone I wish I knew sooner, she feels like a friend I’ve always had, but I only met three years ago. Yeah.

@jabbage [Twitter]

What can I say, Smart, dedicated, driven, focused, talented, learned and amazing… ...Yep…, not just saying that because I am terrible friend…, not another example of not staying in touch with people, made worse by the fact they live in england…, nope…, are you buying it yet? I want to talk about how they inspire me, how they fuel my motivation, but sadly I have to just slap myself and twitter, because GURL never appears on my dash, but just.., THEY’VE WRITTEN SO MANY STORIES! H-how! I just.., I can’t get one webcomic done, I am so proud of her because of this, I should just be able to say that, but I don’t want to, I mean I do, I am proud, but I always want to talk about them as a person, I wanna mention times they’ve made me laugh, made me smile, but there is only a fleeting moment in a minecraft server sometime ago and… I am so sorry, for being a bad friend, but you don’t really need me to enrich your life.., JUST LOOK AT ALL YOU’VE ACCOMPLISHED! You are so amazing, one woman army, just AAAAA, so great! I love it, I love you, keep being amazing!, don’t stop! Burn bright, burn far and burn hard! Go!

@flunafloon [Twitter]

I can’t say how much of a bad friend I am again.., please, she deserves better than me, here is the link to her Etsy store.

@daco-taco [Twitter]

God I have a bleeding heart.., I say because I don’t really know Daco, hell I dunno if I even register as ‘friend’, I’ve followed them since Deviantart and I loved their art, for the most part I was content to be just that and then…, I just saw them upset, and fuck me, haha. I hate that I hate people being in pain so much I dunno why it destroys the core of who I am.., so now I’m in a discord server, or trying to be, feeling constantly judge, because I want to make someone happy and I dunno if I am even doing the job. Haha, what does that say about me?

Charanty 

I want to say a lot about charanty, I want to say we were great friends, I wanna say we talked from sunrise to sunset, I want to so badly.., dumb ideas we had, silly jokes we shared, moments of confusion, anger, tears.., bliss, regret.. But sadly I can’t, not that I don’t like them, no no, Charanty is amazing, but like something truly amazing, they are never around all the time, which sucks, because they are truly amazing, creative, beautiful in their mannerisms and perfect in their imperfection. I wish I could enjoy them more often.

ChubbuChu

I have many friends whom I want to be happy, Chubbu probably more than anything and sometimes I blame myself for their sadness, I know I am not the root cause, but I can still blame myself for moments of silence, moments of stupidity and overall not trying harder. Chubbu is.., affectionately irrational and down to earth, the best of times they are infectiously fun to provoke, play with and tease, while at the same time being caring and hopeful, I’ve only had the pleasure of knowing them for this year and even still it feels like I’ve known them longer, but I can’t wait to get to know them more as time goes on, I hope I do, I wish I do.

@hypertronic [Twitter]

Hyper…, Hyper.., “Your a terrible friend again aren’t you?” I mean.., YES, okay so Hyper started off as someone who was a fan of one my characters and since then I’ve had the pleasure of being taken out of the limelight and watching them grow into an amazing artist and COMIC CREATOR, AAAAA, so Park Of Plutonia, Hyper’s comic was a silly little RP group that was on DA, but look at it now! The amazing world she had hidden away in her head, now for you to read and I really recommend you go read it, especially if you want something different and unique, I really want to say more than just ‘go check out her comic’, I really do.

Mon

-breaths- “You were a bad friend again” GOD DAMMIT, YES! You know the saying never meet you idols! Because all you will do is upset them and make them judge you, HAHAHHA, SO! I became aware of Mon thanks to a small show I’m pretty sure NO ONE has heard of called Critical Role, they drew fanart for it quite regularly and I loved it! I even commented on their stuff from time and time, but there wasn’t much to it. Then I had a friend drag me into the world of FFXIV and to my surprise I met Mon…, after like a week or ten before I realised who she was, how would you describe Mon as a person? Like a rabbit doped up on sugar and caffeine, especially when she’s tired, cause then it’s like x2, what I’m saying is Mon is excitable and positive, which sadly doesn’t really gel well with my down to earth, grumpy I hate everything because I can’t act cute attitude that I’ve cultivated. So despite how much you’d think we are friends and how amazing and creative she is, we clash a lot, and honestly I feel like I am just WAITING for the moment, where she declares she has had enough of me and just throws me out of the friendship circle, because…, I know that not all people gel and sadly as much as I want to, I feel like I’m bringing her nothing but pain and I don’t want to do that, she’s creative and amazing, as well as so positive, she doesn’t need someone like me hurting her all the time.  

@spookydraws, @spesiria, @totalobelisk, @ssksscrapboard, @horrorjuice, @riyamilea

“More friend’s you have trouble staying in contact with?” Mmm.. “Amazing wonderful people who you’d love to talk to for days on end, but you are always just too busy for them, too involved in yourself to even say hi?” Yeah.. “Are they even your friends anymore? Are you worth anything to them, I think at this point you should do them a favour and unfollow them, because in the schemes of their lives you aren’t exactly making an impact are you? If anything you slow them down, maybe you are just slowing everyone down? How many more of you ‘friends’ are going to be added to a stockpile of names you can just gush over, because you don’t know them as people anymore, they don’t impact your life and they probably haven’t had a second thought about them?” …, I just think they are amazing people who need to be recongised for how talented and beautiful they are, life is hard and the voices in our heads can be fucking disgusting to us, so everyone just needs a moment, a person to just hug them and them, I love you, I dunno if you even know me but you are so important, don’t forget how important you are and just how meaningful you are, I’m probably just a stranger to you, but you have never for one second not been important to me in some way, I hope you are happy and that you live every second of your life knowing that you are loved by atleast one person. Cause in the end, that’s all we really want isn’t it, we just want someone to tell us that they love us, that we mean something to them, that we are important.

@phantomdotexe [Twitter]

The living definition of too kind for her own good, it’s both your best quality and your worst quality. An amazing talented person who’s managed to influence a small cults worth of people under the ideal of one uniform symbol and then gets upset how she hasn’t done anything with it. I love you to bits, your drive, your kind nature, but at the same time I worry for you, you have so many self defeating thoughts and worries, all stemming from your lack of respect for your own skill and your ability to try and please everyone at once, which can especially be seen with the ‘everyones opinion is valid’ If you made short stories based on your vision or merch, you’d make money in no time, but as it might contradict with someone else's, you don’t. Now I know this is meant to be a ‘I love my friends’ thing, but the truth is I do, I love you so much, but at the same time I have to tell you, you need to stop fretting, you always worried about other people, asking when they are going to bed and such, but then you are equally as bad of the same thing, burning the candle at both ends, rather than trying to resolve any of your problems. As someone who cares, let other people worry and focus on yourself, see you strengths for what they really are and go and make bank.

Plasma-Dragon

Only had the pleasure to speak to you twice on live streams, mostly knew you for your art, I dunno what I can really say? Here, you’re a new friend and I can’t wait to get to know you more… Man this was short.., fuck.., I really wanted to say something else…, uh.. .. .... ....shit

Lady Violi

Man, I wish I drew more personal projects like you did, haha, Okay so, a bit of honesty, when I first saw you on DA I have to be frank and say I didn’t think much of your art back then, but I am so happy to see not only was I proben wrong, but your art had grown incredibly sicne there, no just in scale and scope, but in detail, colour, it’s fantastic, is there places it could use improvement, yeah, but no one is perfect, but that’s enough about you creatively, what about you the person!

Well like I said I didn’t think much at first, but as time went on I became a little intimadated by you, probably cause of my own guilt more than anything else, but, doesn’t really matter, I’m just happy we actually talked, because discussing things with you is always a high light of my day, I’m so eager when your online because have such a nice easy and approach manner of conversation that’s infectious to me, and I love it.

And the best part! It’s only been a year since we started talking, I’m so excited how we’ll grow in friendship as time goes on, I know it’ll be worth it!

---

And.., that’s it, If you actually read through all of these and not just your own, I’d be surpruised, but I’m happy I wrote this, even if my arm hurts, things needed to be said, apologises needed to be made and love needed to be shared, thank you all.

[unfolded73]

How Do We Get Back (13/16) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary: In a literal alternate universe where the Roses escaped financial ruin, David and Patrick struggle with loneliness and a sense that something isn’t right. A chance meeting in New York and a terrible tragedy drive them to question whether the timeline they are on is the right one.

This chapter is explicit, 4k words.  (ao3)

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12

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Chapter 13

Patrick was drifting, halfway between sleep and wakefulness, thinking about the nature of orgasms.

For a long time there had been two kinds of orgasms that he had first-hand experience with. There was the masturbatory kind, which he took care of in a perfunctory, utilitarian way when he felt like the needs of his body were distracting him from something more important, like schoolwork or practicing the guitar or a good night’s sleep. Quick and harsh, a tight fist and hand lotion and his brain carefully blank while he was doing it, just an efficient, neural shortcut to a little burst of pleasure, then a quick cleanup and it was back to whatever he’d been doing before.

Then there were orgasms from sex, where quick and harsh wouldn’t cut it, but where again he shied away from thinking too much about what he was actually doing. It felt like a job, being skilled enough at sex that his partner wouldn’t have any complaints. And he was happy that he could please another person, he was, but it left little room for the work his brain needed to do in order to find that neural shortcut. A lot of the time, he never got there. When he did, it was underwhelming, to say the least.

If those experiences were like weakly flickering light bulbs, then being with David was like a supernova.

Patrick did things for David, touched him and sucked him and fucked him, not because of an obligation to be competent at sex but because he wanted to. No, want was too small a word for what he felt — he was starving, he was aching to do those things for David. And orgasming with David didn’t take effort; it was inevitable — it was simply impossible not to be swept along to that heart-stopping conclusion, so intense sometimes that he felt like he barely stayed conscious.

“What are you grinning about?”

Patrick slowly opened his eyes and looked over at David. “I thought you were asleep.”

“Nope.”

“I was thinking about orgasms, if you must know.”

David hummed in a way that said, Oooh, I’m intrigued, tell me more.

“Also I was thinking that as much I’ve enjoyed this weekend of hardly leaving the bed, I do have to go to work tomorrow. Will you be okay on your own for the day?”

Looking offended, David said, “I’m not a child.”

“No, of course you aren’t. But I don’t know if being alone is necessarily the best thing for you right now.”

“I’ll read a book. Or maybe, I don’t know, take a walk.” Patrick raised an eyebrow; David going for a walk without a destination in mind seemed a bit out of character, but there were likely hidden depths of David’s character that Patrick hadn’t seen yet. He was excited to learn them all, every facet of David’s personality, every quirk and annoying habit.

Whoa, slow down, he thought to himself. Just because David had chosen to lean on him in this time of mourning, it didn’t mean he was thinking in terms of a long-term relationship. Just because they’d spent most of the last two days in Patrick’s bed, learning each other’s bodies, didn’t mean David was falling in love with him. For the first time, Patrick realized how in danger his heart really was. And that perhaps it was too late to do anything about it.

“What’s wrong?” David asked.

Realizing his face was betraying his thoughts, Patrick relaxed his features. “A walk sounds like a good idea.”

~*~

“This place is cute,” David said, the grimace on his face saying he thought it was anything but.

Patrick looked at the local bar through David’s eyes: televisions tuned to a variety of sporting events, signed hockey jerseys mounted on the walls, wide-board wooden floor and tables with decades of initials carved into them.

Giving him two firm claps on the back (“You’ve got such straight boy body language,” David had once said), Patrick grinned at him. “Come on, I promise you’ll have a good time.”

Dennis had invited them out, having no doubt heard through his parents or perhaps just through the town rumor mill that Patrick had a guy staying with him. Between the other tenants in Patrick’s building and the people in the bookstore and coffee shop that David had visited over the last few days while Patrick was at work, Oak Grove was almost certainly churning with news that little Patrick Brewer had a boyfriend.

Not a boyfriend, Patrick reminded himself, although with every day that David didn’t return to New York, it felt more and more difficult not to name him so. David had been in town a week now, and with every day that passed it seemed more impossible that the day would come when this would be over.

Patrick spotted his cousin at a table near the bar and he steered David over.

“Hey, man!” Dennis said, up and out of his chair and hugging Patrick before he quite understood what was happening. He didn’t particularly remember Dennis being a hugger, but he went with it.

“Um, this is David,” Patrick said simply. Dennis reached out and shook David’s hand enthusiastically, as if being introduced to a man that Patrick was in an unlabelable romantic relationship with was a normal thing that didn’t require remarking upon. Which, maybe it didn’t.

They fell into easy small talk; it turned out that Dennis had a lot of opinions about music and so did David, and Patrick could just sit back and watch another member of his family welcoming David into the fold. When Dennis suggested they play darts, David didn’t want to play but he seemed content to serve as Patrick’s one man cheering section. And when Patrick won and got a kiss for his efforts, he tried not to let it show on his face how overwhelming it was, the simple fact being out in public and sharing casual affection with a boy he liked.

Ash brought over their third round of drinks themselves, as things at the bar had started to slow down.

“Ash, dude, what’s this I hear about you moving away?” Dennis asked.

They shrugged. “I’ve got some people in Norway that, if the world is ending, I’d prefer to ride out the apocalypse with,” they said, collecting and stacking empty glasses.

“I’m sorry,” Patrick said, “‘if the world is ending’?”

Ash gave him an impassive stare for a second. “Have you read the news recently?”

Patrick frowned. He hadn’t, really. He’d been too busy with David to give any thought to the outside world.

“To the people living in any particular time, it always seems like things are the worst they’ve ever been. It doesn’t mean you need to go join a doomsday cult in Norway,” Dennis said.

“There it is, cults again,” David said, making Patrick raise his eyebrows in surprise. “I swear I keep hearing things about cults these days.”

Dennis chuckled. “I mean, between climate change and so many of the world’s governments being taken over by dictators, maybe it’s not surprising that people are turning to mass protests and weird religions.”

“We saw protesters being arrested at the airport in New York,” Patrick said. “A lot of them.” He felt embarrassed that he’d let the event slip his mind entirely.

“The violence has only gotten worse in New York the last few days,” Ash said, looking annoyed at them for being so uninformed. “They’ll probably have to shut things down like they did with O’Hare and LAX.”

“I’m sorry, shut what down?” David asked, his voice rising in pitch.

“The airports. There have been so many threats of terrorism that they can’t afford to keep those airports running. I’ve got a flight out of Toronto to Heathrow in three days, and I’m praying that things don’t get too bad before I can get on that plane.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Patrick asked no one in particular.

“The world is falling apart, man,” Ash said. “And the old gods are in ascendance.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I read that Neil Gaiman novel,” Dennis said in a way that made it clear he wasn’t taking any of this seriously.

“We should make sure we have a way to get you back to your parents,” Patrick said, trying not to wish too hard that David would somehow be stranded here with him forever.

David looked startled, and he paused before saying, “Yeah. Yeah, I guess we should.”

“I wouldn’t go back to New York now,” Ash said. “Best to stay out of the big cities. That’s where the worst shit is going down.” They looked over at the bar, where more people were waiting for drinks than it looked like Ash’s assistant could handle. “I’ve gotta get back, guys. Good luck with everything.”

“Thanks?” Patrick said.

“Just…” Ash gave him a piercing stare. “Don’t ignore your dreams, Patrick. Let your subconscious be your guide.” They turned and went back to the bar then, leaving the three of them looking at each other, bemused.

“That was weird,” Dennis said.

Unnerved, Patrick reached over and took David’s hand. “Yeah.”

~*~

“That bartender was right.” David was looking at his phone when Patrick emerged from the bathroom, ready for bed. “JFK, Newark, and LaGuardia are all closed as of today. It says they don’t know for how long.”

“That’s insane. How is anybody flying anywhere?”

“They aren’t. It’s almost like 9/11, when I was stranded for four days in Portugal.”

Patrick lifted the blankets and got under the covers with David. “I was only thirteen on 9/11.”

“Oh, fuck off,” David said affectionately.

“And what was the thing Ash said about dreams? Let my subconscious be my guide? What was that?”

David gave him a sidelong glance. “I don’t know, had any interesting dreams lately?”

Patrick laughed. He didn’t usually remember his dreams. Except… “I mean, I dreamed you and I were planning to get married in Schitt’s Creek, but…” He blushed at having admitted even that to David. “It was silly.”

“Wait, what?” David asked, turning fully to him.

God, David must be freaked out by what that might reveal about his feelings, Patrick thought. “It was just a dream, it doesn’t mean I actually want to—”

“No, that’s not… I dreamed the same thing, that night at the motel. That you and I were engaged.” David looked down at his bare fingers. He always took his silver rings off at night and put them in a little dish on the bedside table that he’d borrowed from Patrick’s kitchen.

“Huh. That’s a weird coincidence.” Patrick settled down onto his pillow and closed his eyes.

“Is it?”

“Is it what?”

David huffed and nudged Patrick’s shoulder until he opened his eyes. “Is it a coincidence?”

Patrick laughed. “Well, what else would it be, David?”

“I don’t know, it’s your bartender friend who was spouting all that mystical stuff about old gods and dreams!” He gesticulated wildly with his hands.

Patrick sat back up. “I don’t actually know Ash all that well, but… look, I just don’t believe in stuff like that. Stuff I can’t verify with my own eyes and ears.”

“Okay, fine, so let’s collect some data. What else happened in your dream?” David said.

“David—”

“Humor me.”

“Okay.” Patrick rubbed his face, trying to remember. “We worked in a store together.”

Now David looked genuinely alarmed, as if even though he’d been arguing on the side of the import of these dreams, he hadn’t really believed in what he was arguing. “Without telling me what it was, do you remember the name of the store?”

He did. It had been all over everything — baggies of coffee beans and bottles of who-knew-what; it was abbreviated on the wall and on the top of the refrigerator case. Patrick took a second to be amazed that there had been that level of detail in the dream, and that he remembered even a fraction of it. “I remember it.”

“I’m going to tell you what it was, then, since you’re the skeptic. It was Rose Apothecary.”

Patrick’s heart started to thunder in his chest. “Maybe… maybe there’s a mundane explanation.”

David crossed his arms. “What?”

“Maybe we saw a place with a similar name somewhere, and it happened to register in both of our subconsciouses—”

“Two little roses, one on either side of the name,” David said. “And I had four gold rings in place of my silver ones. I’m pretty sure you gave them to me.”

Patrick stared at him. “Okay, so… so we shared a dream?”

“I don’t think it was a dream. Or, it was, but it was more than that.” David was up and out of bed now, like he couldn’t contain these ideas unless he got up and walked them off. “It was like a view of an alternate reality. One where for some reason my whole family was in that town, and so I met you a while ago, and… I don’t know, but it was good. Everyone was happy, and…”

“And Alexis was alive,” Patrick said as soon as it struck him why David wanted the dreams to mean something. “That’s what this is about, right? Your sister was alive.”

“Yeah, this is the ravings of a grief-stricken person except you saw it, Patrick. It wasn’t just me. You saw it too! And you felt something when we were outside that general store, didn’t you? And… and the waitress said it was… that the veil between worlds was thin or whatever.” He was so manic now that Patrick worried that David might be on his way to a panic attack if he didn’t calm down.

“I don’t know if I’d hang this theory on Twyla,” Patrick said, but then he had to pull himself up short, because it was triggering something else in his memory. Someone else who’d raved at him… “The homeless woman outside your building,” Patrick said softly, lost in memories of those nights, months ago, when his whole life changed.

“What?” David stopped pacing, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths.

“There was a homeless woman outside your building; I ran into her both times I left your apartment in the early morning. And she said…” — he struggled to remember. “She said that this world was wrong and we needed to get back to the right one. Wait, before that, the first time I saw her, she said to me ‘you found him.’”

“Patrick, if you’re fucking with me—”

“Why would I fuck with you?” Patrick rubbed his sweaty palms off on the bedspread.

“I know who you’re talking about; she was a regular in the neighborhood,” David said. “She used to say all kinds of crazy stuff to me, stuff like…” He dragged a hand through his hair, making it stick up at all angles. “That my family and I were supposed to be living in a motel together.”

Patrick didn’t want to, but it would have been dishonest not to connect those dots. “You did say those rooms felt familiar.”

David sat down on the bed and put his head in his hands. “Fuck.”

Not knowing what else to do, Patrick crawled over and rested a hand on David’s back.

“What do we do?” David asked.

“We… we get you back to New York, to your family, for a start. And we try to find that woman, because maybe she knows more.”

“The airports are closed,” David pointed out.

Patrick shrugged. “So we drive. If we leave early in the morning and take turns driving, we can probably be there by this time tomorrow.”

“What about your job?”

“David, we’re going to drive to New York in the midst of a violent uprising to seek out a mystical homeless woman to explain why we’ve both dreamed of the same alternate reality. My job can go fuck itself.”

David laughed, an edge of hysteria in it, and kissed him.

~*~

“This is insane,” Patrick said as they pulled away from the third police checkpoint since crossing over into Manhattan. Only David’s ID with his Chelsea address had allowed them to get this far.

This is insane had been Patrick’s mental mantra for many of their hours of driving, and he wasn’t sure if the increasing evidence of societal collapse was bolstering the idea that they were doing the right thing or detracting from it. He knew it was insane when he called his parents from the road to tell them that he was driving David to New York since the airports were shut down (the rest of the story, he left out). He knew it was insane when they had to spend almost a full hour at the U.S.-Canadian border, undergoing extensive questioning before they were allowed to cross. He knew it was insane when he left a message for his boss, resigning his position at Rollins Electrical Supply via voicemail. He knew it was insane when David had an extended phone call with his parents as they drove through Buffalo, arguing about which of the properties that his parents still owned would be the safest if civilization fell.

David directed Patrick to a parking garage near his apartment. The automated gates had been broken off, so Patrick drove in without taking a ticket from the machine.

“If we somehow manage to get away without paying to park in Manhattan, then society really has collapsed,” David said, which made Patrick laugh.

Rain was coming down steadily on them as they walked to David’s apartment from the garage. Even Patrick, with his limited time in New York, could tell that the streets were unnaturally quiet. “I don’t see our prophetic friend,” Patrick said as they approached David’s building.

“With the rain, she might be in a shelter,” David said. “We can try to find her tomorrow.”

He looked as exhausted as Patrick felt, so Patrick didn’t argue.

At least nothing had changed in David’s apartment during their days away, and Patrick was struck by the way the smell of the place took him back to that first night in February, when he’d gone home with David and ended up in his bed. That had been insane too, but it might have been the best thing he’d ever done in his life. Maybe insane wasn’t the worst thing.

They took turns showering off the funk of the long road trip, and while Patrick waited for David in his bed, he started trying to catch up on what exactly was going on in the world. By the time David joined him, Patrick’s palms were sweating and his stomach felt queasy.

“David, I’m starting to think the world might really be ending.”

“Why?” David asked, sitting down on his side of the bed and rubbing some kind of moisturizer into his heels.

“The amazon rainforest is on fire, for one thing. Like, intentionally. They’ve instituted full-on martial law in Brazil. And that guy Jeff Bezos and some other billionaires have bugged out to some private floating city and disappeared, which I’m pretty sure was the plot of an Ayn Rand book.”

“Don’t tell my mom, she’ll be pissed she wasn’t invited,” David said, settling down onto his back and pulling Patrick into his arms.

“And legitimate people are writing articles questioning whether it’s possible for the U.S. to ever have fair and free elections ever again,” Patrick went on.

“Okay,” David said, his hand caressing Patrick’s hip.

“You don’t seem worried,” Patrick said.

“It’s not that I’m not worried, it’s that my brain literally doesn’t have any room for anything else to worry about.” David rolled them so that he was on top of Patrick and began kissing down his neck. “Also, fifty-seven percent of my brain is occupied with thinking about sex.”

Patrick grinned, wrapping his arms around David and sliding his hands down to David’s ass. “Fifty-seven percent?”

“Eighty-three percent.” Patrick thrust up with his hips, grinding against David. “A hundred and nine percent,” David breathed.

They quickly shed their clothes and were back to grinding against each other immediately, their bodies almost on auto-pilot, desperate for friction and closeness and connection.

“So I guess there’s a universe where I asked you to marry me,” Patrick said when David pulled away long enough to lube both of them up, his slick hand on Patrick’s cock and stomach and on himself. The idea of that being real somehow had turned itself over and over in Patrick’s mind on the drive until he felt compelled to speak it out loud.

“That’s the part that strains credibility, that any version of you would want to spend your entire life with any version of me,” David said, and only David Rose could manage to be self effacing while he stroked himself.

“David,” Patrick said, reaching up for David’s shoulders and pulling him down so that they could kiss, and now each thrust of their hips was slippery and so wonderful that it almost brought tears to Patrick’s eyes. “That part is easy for me to imagine.”

David kissed him, frantic, and when they separated to breathe, David’s eyelashes were fluttering as he tried to blink away his own tears. “I doubt that, but thank you for saying it.”

Patrick pulled him as close as he could, rolling his hips, trying to bring him pleasure and comfort in equal measure. “That life with you, the one we dreamed… I’d take that life in a second.”

Gasping, David kissed him again. “Me too. God, Patrick, me too.” He buried his face the crook of Patrick’s neck, his hips slowing into a more gentle undulation. “Can we pretend, just for a minute…?”

Patrick brought one hand up and carded it through David’s hair. “That we’re in that world?” He felt David nod.

His heart hammering in his chest, Patrick matched David’s rhythm and tried to imagine what he would say in that life, comfortable and confident and in love with a man that he planned to spend the rest of his days with. “I’m so happy you’re going to be my husband, David,” he murmured, his voice pitched low, and the answering noise from David told him he was on exactly the right track.

Considering and discarding several other endearments — he didn’t want to tell David he loved him until he could be certain David knew he meant it — Patrick went on. “I don’t ever want this to end. I don’t ever want to not be sharing your life. You’re the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.”

“God, Patrick, I—” Whatever David was going to say got lost as he climaxed, wet and hot against Patrick’s stomach. Patrick groaned and moved faster, seeking and finding his own peak, biting down on David’s shoulder as he came.

After a quick cleanup, they settled back into bed together, Patrick resting his head against David’s chest.

“Thanks for… I probably shouldn’t have asked you to do that in the heat of the moment,” David said. “Roleplaying scenes usually require some pre-negotiation.”

“I didn’t mind,” Patrick said. It’s not like anything he had said hadn’t been a sort of truth. “It, umm, worked for me too. Obviously.” He pressed a kiss against David’s sternum.

David laughed uneasily. “Who knew that my kink was domesticity?”

It gave Patrick a chance to lighten the mood, to get out of the territory that was going to lead to premature confessions of love, and he took it. “Should I have also talked about mowing the lawn?”

“That depends, what do you wear when you mow the lawn?”

Patrick laughed. “I’ll save my material on painting the garage for next time, it’ll drive you wild.”

Chapter 14

[imhereformysciencefriends]

Pt 2

—

“Aw, Carm, this is a beauty,” Zack praised, running his hand affectionately over the dashboard. “Listen to her purr.”

“Why are all your cars girls?” Ivy asked disdainfully, hiding her pleasure at seeing Zack so excited again. So genuinely happy.

“Because I love women and I love cars—and I also love boats and planes, and trains, and motorcycles, and...”

“I’m glad you like it,” Carmen said, getting in. “We need a quiet car for quiet getaways. Can’t leave a noisy car running at the ready.”

“This is gonna be so great,” Zack said, hugging the steering wheel like a long lost lover, “This is already so great.”

Ivy rolled her eyes.

“So,” Carmen said, sitting next to Ivy in the backseat, immediately grabbing all of her attention and making the space seem so much smaller, “tell me about yourself, partner.”

Ivy felt her heart leap into her throat.

“Well, I’m from Boston,” she started, trying to make herself sound as casual and natural as if she were meeting a normal, regular human being, not the (muscle muscle muscle HOT GIRL muscle pretty) partner-in-crime of her dreams, “born and raised, haven’t gotten out much. Enrolled in the toughest undergraduates my college had to offer for my major last year and breezed through ‘em so fast I took nothing but graduate courses this last semester and a half.” She didn’t normally feel any particular need to brag, but, well, she really wanted to impress this woman who’d been raised from infancy to be a thief and special operative. “Make gadgets. Joined the white hat hackers for something to do and ended up gettin’ invested.”

“They’ve got a certain allure,” Carmen agreed, nodding. Ivy was too tongue tied to make any kind of slip about the other alluring component of her very current situation.

Underneath them, the car purred just a little louder, and Ivy realized that it had been accelerating smoothly, seamlessly, without her even noticing. The scenery was rocketing past them.

“Zack, I don’t think we should get caught by police this early in the game,” she said, just a tiny bit irritated.

“Relax, Ivy, we’re in the middle of nowhere! Where are the cops gonna be in the Midwest? Hiding in a corn field?”

“Most major cities in Midwestern America do have state patrols on the interstate not far out from city limits, precisely to catch people who share that mindset,” Carmen informed Zack, oozing that well-earned, deceptively simple confidence that Ivy knew was deserved. “And while it’s known for corn, a large number of farmers grow soybeans as well, which can be chocolate coated and eaten like candy, harvested for oil for biodiesel fuel, and can even be turned into crayons.”

Ivy stared at Carmen, rapt.

“The Midwest is often referred to as ‘tornado alley,’ or its more traditional moniker, ‘The Great Plains.’ The plainlands are notorious for their green, electric skies that foretell tornadoes, and also have some pretty stark shifts through seasonal changes. Though, no one ever seems to think that spring lasts long enough.”

“Well aren’t you just a walkin’ geography book,” Zack said, sounding about as stunned as Ivy felt, and the car slowed a little.

“Thanks. But Zack is also right. This far from the city, nobody with a badge is going to see us until we hit the next small town.”

There was a beat, and then Ivy heard the engine rev, climbing speeds with renewed vigor. “Awwww yeaaaah!” Zack crowed.

Carmen turned back to Ivy, and she kinda hoped she wasn’t blushing as hot as she felt like she was blushing. Carmen was an ocean. Ivy didn’t get to see much change on the surface, but there was a deep power and awe-inspiring quality to Carmen that lied just beneath, so close to the surface Ivy could practically feel it thrum. She wondered what it would be like to see Carmen storm.

She was staring, oops, uh, conversation, normal-people talk!

“So, tell me about you,” Ivy choked a little on the word, “partner.”

Carmen arched a single eyebrow and Ivy internally bemoaned how it wasn’t fair. She could never make her face do that! “I thought Player already debriefed you.”

“He gave me the basics,” Ivy nudged Carmen’s shin with her sneaker, like she would any other casual, regular-friend acquaintance. “I wanna hear from you.”

“It’s gonna have to wait,” Zack warned from the driver’s seat, “according to Player’s GPS, we’re gettin’ close.”

Far off, a semi truck was just becoming visible. Carmen nodded with determination, brown eyes locked on the distant figure.

“According to our intel, V.I.L.E. has probably already stolen the pipe. It’s an important relic that dates back centuries, and V.I.L.E. knows it’s a sacred part of Oglala Lakota culture. Plenty of shady museums are willing to pay a hefty price for the stolen artifacts of Native cultures. We’re going to make sure it gets back where it belongs.”

Ivy felt something electric in her pulse—and for once it wasn’t attraction to this pretty lady. It was something bigger, faster, far more exciting. Like the buzz of working with Zack to get into mischief, but amplified, nameless.

“Right,” she agreed, with a passion she was surprised to feel. They all activated their comms—tiny, closed-route devices Ivy made that linked them all to Player and each other—and got ready.

Zack slowed as they got to the semi, and Carmen leapt deftly through the open top of the car onto the hood. Zack kept a steady pace, bumper to bumper despite moving down the interstate, and Carmen fastened one of Ivy’s gadgets to the lock. The door of the truck swung open and—

Carmen had dodged and blocked before either of the twins had registered there were assailants inside. Deftly, competently, confidently, Carmen jumped into the metal cavity and punched an operative straight in the nose.

“Really, it’s like none of you remember to protect the face,” Carmen said as she dropped low to avoid a punch and then slammed the underside of her aggressor's chin. “Coach Brunt gives very good advice. You should listen.” Ivy distantly noted that the audio quality of their comms was perfect, exactly what she’d hoped.

Ivy watched Carmen move like Zack watched his video games. Utterly immersed, not wanting to even blink. There was fire in her gut, sparks inside her veins, a drumming noise inside her head that swelled in her lungs and threatened to burst from her ribcage.

Then someone got an arm around Carmen’s neck and Ivy knew, instinctively, in her very bones, what she needed to do. She pulled the grappling hook from her bag and leapt into the passenger seat, one foot propped on the rim of the windshield as she attacked the hook.

“What are—Ivy, Ivy you haven’t tested that yet!”

“Perfect time then, eh?” Ivy asked, barely hearing her brother over the thrum in her skull and veins. She aimed while one of the operatives picked himself up off the floor, grabbing a baton while Carmen struggled against the arm pressed to her windpipe.

“Not a perfect time! Now is not the—“

With a click and a woosh and a surge forward off the windshield, Ivy was airborne. She kicked her legs out hard and planted her feet right into the fellow with the baton, cushioning her landing but knocking him out cold. And maybe breaking a rib. Who knew—who cared?

“Hiya!” Ivy screamed as she rounded on the other man who—who was. Not standing anymore. Carmen stood, like she hadn’t been choked or bothered at all, and Ivy felt just a tiny bit silly for her shout but mostly she felt alight with something that could’ve been adrenaline.

“Nice gadget,” Carmen praised, and Ivy grinned, heady with their seeming victory.

A booming noise and blue light from the open door grabbed their attention, and the truck gained speed like it was a bullet train.

“That’s Dr. Bellum’s nitro,” Carmen informed swiftly, scooping Ivy up in her arms, “We’d better bounce.”

Carmen leapt, Ivy in her arms like a princess in the embrace of a valiant knight, from the semi’s open door into the open top of the car that was just barely still close enough for them to make the jump. Carmen shoved Ivy down as they landed, so that she bounced into the seat, head knocking against the headrest, and Ivy held onto Carmen, keeping her body from rocketing into the metal rim of the roof (or worse, toppling over it). Carmen and Ivy were both breathing hard, eyes locked as Carmen flopped into the seat, and they shared twin grins as Zack slowed the car and took off down a highway, branching from the interstate into the endless, gentle hills of the plains.

“That was great,” Carmen told Ivy as she pulled the pipe from her red coat, grinning triumphantly, “especially for a rookie.”

Ivy laughed and punched Carmen playfully in the shoulder, still high off whatever this was. “That was amazing. Zack, Zack, we are never going back to Boston.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice!” Zack crowed as well, “I mean, unless there’s a caper there.”

“I will allow one excuse for Boston capers. Oh my god!” Ivy said, laughing again, flopping bonelessly in the backseat as the adrenaline crashed. “That was so cool.”

“Yeah,” Carmen said, sounding pleased.

—

<<Player you ain’t gonna BELIEVE what happened today!>>

<<Is it that Red swept you up in her arms and jumped from the back of a moving vehicle? Or that you discovered your passion for benevolent crime that was latent inside you all along?>>

<<SHE’S SO STRONG!>>

<<Yeah, Red already told me about it. Glad the first caper went well. It’s always nice to get off to a good start>>

<<She picked me up like it was NOTHIN’. Do I even weigh anythin’ to her?>>

<<It’s probably like lifting grapes or something>>

<<Player oh my god what have you done? How am I supposed to survive this?>>

<<You’re welcome>>

<<On a more serious note, yes I did discover my love of crime and theft and kicking dudes really really hard and you were absolutely right about me wantin’ to go on an adventure; how’d you know?>>

<<Eh, some wishful thinking and a lucky guess>>

<<I’m gonna go pass out now.>>

<<Make sure you hydrate>>

<<That goes double for you, cave goblin.>>

—

<<HER SKIN WAS SO SOFT>>

<<There there, Red>>

<<PLAYER SHE SMELLED SO GOOD>>

<<It’ll be okay; you’ll get through this>>

<<She hadn’t tested it yet! She risked her life specifically to come help me!>>

<<It was very cash money of her>>

<<Did I tell you about how she counterbalanced me so I didn’t crack a rib or go over the rim?>>

<<You did>>

<<She doesn’t have any training, Player. She just DID THAT! For me!>>

<Mmhhmm>>

<<Player I think I have a crush>>

<<I think so too>>

<<Help I‘ve never had a crush before>>

<<You liar>>

<<Well okay yeah I’ve had crushes before but never when I could actually DO anything about it! I was always ‘that island kid’ to all the people I had crushes on, and by the time I was finally old enough to maybe date one of the students there weren’t any options.>>

<<Mhm>>

<<El Topo and Le Chèvre have been an item since practically always, Mime Bomb was just… no, Tigress hated my guts, and Crackle was basically the brother I’d always wanted.>>

<<Yeah>>

<<Wait, what if that’s it? Ivy is the first real option I’ve ever had, so my brain is going haywire and overreacting.>>

<<What do you feel about Zack?>>

<<...>>

<<,’:)>>

<<I like him, and he’s attractive, in the way that humans are attractive, but he’s not very attractive to me.>>

<<Mhm>>

<<I have a crush on Ivy.>>

<<Yes>>

<<Player what do I do?>>

<<Well, my mom says all good relationships are built on the solid foundation of good friendships. Start there>>

<<So focus on being her friend and not the dumb complicated feelings that are dumb and complicated, got it.>>

<<I wouldn’t ignore them entirely. It’s normal to have crushes, and most people see them as a good thing. Just don’t let it be the ONLY thing, you know?>>

<<Yeah. Yeah, that makes sense.>>

<<I always make sense, you should listen to me because I’m always right.>>

<<Haha>>

<<I am a font of wisdom, don’t play>>

<<Yeah. Hey, Player?>>

<<Red>>

<<Thanks. Talking to you always makes me feel grounded.>>

<<Hey, what are besties for?>>

Part 1 | Part 3

[jewpacabruhs]

“You look really tired” or “You think you’re funny” for Kyman 👊🤧

Kyle hates the part of himself that cares deeply for Cartman. Because he does care about him; he can admit that now that he’s matured and all but abandoned his steadfast conviction that he must despise him, though he definitely resents the bastard. Regardless of it all, he knows deep down that even if he’s not fond of him, he’ll always want the best for him, and he’ll always hope to one day see him become someone happier, healthier, and maybe even some semblance of normal, and it pisses him the hell off, because no one deserves to be stuck caring about the well-being and future of someone like Cartman. He supposes someone has to keep an eye on him - he just wishes he didn’t feel bad for him.

But more than anything, it bothers him that Cartman knows he cares about him, and has made a hobby out of exploiting his sympathetic nature and taking advantage of his unending desire to see Cartman evolve into a better person. It upsets him that time and time again, he gives the asshole the benefit of the doubt, and time and time again, Cartman makes him regret it.

So when Cartman sits down for lunch on Monday after having ghosted them all weekend, looking absolutely awful, like he hadn’t slept in a week and had spent that time crying, too, Kyle doesn’t immediately ask what’s up, because he’s sure it’s a ploy for attention and pity, and he won’t give Cartman what he wants this time.

The other boys follow suit; they’re all tired of Cartman’s dramatics, too.

It’s only after Cartman doesn’t prod them to inquire about his state, doesn’t even touch his meal, which is absolutely unheard of, that Kyle gives in and says, “Cartman, is everything okay? You look really tired.”

Craig and Token glare at him, clearly irritated with him for engaging, and Craig goes so far as to gather up his lunch and tug Tweek away by the hand, but Kenny glances over from the nudie mag he’d been looking at with Clyde, peering worriedly at Cartman. Stan’s munching away at a salad - Wendy’s got him eating vegan again, and Stan’s decided salads are his safest option - but he’s watching Cartman, too. It’s some consolation to Kyle that he’s not the only one who does care about Cartman, though Stan and Kenny have frequently criticized him for being too invested.

“Had a bad night,” Cartman says quietly, and his voice is so small and sincere that Kyle’s instantly sympathetic. If this is another scheme, he’ll kick his ass, but by the looks of it, for once in his life, Cartman’s serious in his misery.

“You wanna talk about it, big boy?” Kenny asks him from where he’s sitting to his right. He’s handed Clyde the magazine so he can focus wholeheartedly on Cartman, though Kyle catches the way he’s eyeing Cartman’s untouched chicken nuggets. 

Cartman does, too, apparently. “No,” he replies moodily, before pushing his tray towards Kenny. “You can have them. I’m not hungry.”

Kenny actually hesitates before digging in, apprehensive where he wouldn’t usually be, because of Cartman’s bizarre behavior, but he starts chowing down quickly enough.

No one knows what to say, so they carry on with their lunches, though there’s an air of awkwardness due to Cartman’s mopey presence. He’s horribly quiet; doesn’t even pitch in when Jimmy and Clyde start arguing about early 2000s boy bands, though he’d typically jump right into a conversation like that with some obnoxious spiel about NSYNC’s superiority.

Kyle eats his sandwich solemnly and watches him out of the corner of his eye, even as Stan shows him a series of dumb memes mixed with cute animal videos; the usual lunch procedure. 

By the time the bell rings and everyone stands to go, Cartman’s demeanor hasn’t changed, and he remains seated as the lunch room begins to clear out. Kyle starts to leave with Token to their AP Bio class - but then he stops and looks at Cartman, and something compels him to stay with him. “I’ll catch up with you,” he tells Token, who frowns a little, searching his face briefly, before simply saying, “Okay, dude,” and taking off.

Kyle sits down at the table, straddling the bench. Cartman’s slumped over, head in his hands, but Kyle’s weight makes the seat squeak, and he glances up. “What the hell do you want?” he asks, and his pouty tone is familiar, but so much more legitimately dejected than Kyle’s used to. He’s even got tears in his eyes; real ones, not performative ones.

“What’s going on with you, Cartman?”

The fat boy heaves a sigh, and Kyle sees him fiddling with his hands in his lap, which is something he only ever does when he’s forced to open up and be vulnerable. If this were anyone else, Kyle would put a reassuring hand on his back or arm, something to calm his nerves and show him that he was there for him, but it’s Cartman, and frankly, Kyle’s not willing to let him have that yet. 

Finally, inaudibly, Cartman says, “Ralphie died.”

“Oh,” Kyle says. Ralphie was a sickly stray cat Cartman had been trying to nurse back to health for the last month. He’d named him after the Sopranos character because, according to Cartman, he kind of looked like Joe Pantoliano. That had sparked an argument with Kenny, who thought Pantoliano looked more like a French bulldog than anything (”But he’s Italian!” Cartman had yelled, as if that meant something). Then Kyle had pitched in that it was rude to compare people to pets, which upset Stan, who thought any human should be honored to be likened to an animal. 

Cartman had been excessively lovey with the cat, so Kyle’s not surprised he’s so upset. Part of him is just thankful Cartman’s capable of grieving; it’s proof he’s not soulless, like the other guys try to convince him he is. Proof he’s not a lost cause. 

“I’m sorry, Cartman,” Kyle says gently. The lunch room’s nearly empty, and the few kids left are staring at them as they exit, because their rivalry is decently infamous. The second bell rings; he’s definitely going to be late to class, and somehow, that’s not important to him right now. “I know you really liked that cat.”

Cartman heaves a sigh. “I just - after Mr. Kitty died, I - I missed her so bad, but I didn’t wanna just replace her, you know? It wouldn’t be the same. But when I found Ralphie, I thought maybe it was meant to be or whatever, ‘cause I just found him, on the street, and I thought Kitty wouldn’t feel betrayed about it ‘cause I was, like, doing an act of - of, like, charity, or whatever, you know? And I thought Ralphie was getting better, he was doing super good and he was more cuddly and, and affectionate, we really became friends- but then I came home from skewl on Friday and he wasn’t moving-” Cartman starts to cry, but he covers his eyes with his hands before Kyle can see. That’s how Kyle knows this is the most genuine sadness he’s seen out of Cartman, possibly in all the time he’s known him; his fake cry is hysterical shrieking paired with crocodile tears, but currently, he’s crying very quietly, sniffling a bit, hiding his face away, and it tugs at Kyle’s heart strings like those ASPCA commercials do.

Abandoning his desire to remain stoic for the sake of his own pride, he puts a hand on Cartman’s back. “Cartman, hey, listen - what if after school, the guys and I take you to the pound to pick out a new cat?”

“Really?”

“Yes.” He’ll have to ask them, but Stan’s always down for an opportunity to be near animals, though it might be hard to get him to leave without taking home every single creature there - and as for Kenny, he’ll tag along as long as Kyle offers to take them out to Taco Bell after.

Cartman rubs at his wet eyes with his sleeves and smiles happily. “I’d - I’d like that, Kahl.”

Then he falls on Kyle and hugs him tight, and to Kyle’s disbelief, he’s not annoyed at being embraced by him like he usually would be. Instead, he smiles and hugs him back, patting him awkwardly on the back once he doesn’t let go after a good thirty seconds. He smells like fruity shampoo and peanut butter, which is better than he usually smells, or maybe Kyle’s just not in the mood to pick out petty things to criticize for once.

Kyle’s typically sort of touch adverse, so if anyone else hugged him like this, he’d definitely be irritated by now - but somehow, Cartman holding onto him like he’s a lifeline just makes his heart swell in a way he’ll lie awake tonight worrying about.

[retro-rezz-the-est]

Birthday Surprise (Elias/OC fluff)

Summary: Elias leads OC on a hunt to find out what (or who) has their hands on her birthday surprise.

(A/N: This was written for my bestest, most amazing, stylish, beautiful, hilarious, relatable, absolutely wonderful Tumblr bestie @writing-reigns for her birthday today. Thank you for all you’ve done for me since we first started talking on this hellsite, sis, and I hope I can show you how much I care via this. You deserve this and so much more, and I hope you have an awesome day today ;) 💕❤💕❤)

(A/N #2: Also added cameos of a few great gals who run their own fantastic Tumblrs ^^;)

“Ok, so is everyone ready?”

The show had already been on for more than an hour at that point. He could hear the stream of boos and cheers from the fans as they watched a match between two people he had already forgot about. His mind was focused on something else, something more important...

He scratched at his beard nervously as the small ragtag group of members of the RAW roster Elias had gathered in the hallway nodded, the figure leaning against the nearby wall giving a short tilt of his head instead.

A female voice rang out from the back of the group and asked, “Um, what are we getting ready for, exactly?”

His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed, trying to hold back the boiling petty remark.

“You all,” he spoke firmly, pointing his finger out towards the group, “are going to wait in your designated spots until Kris comes around to you so you each can give her the small pieces of paper I gave to you to lead her towards the next person.”

“What’s even on these things, anyways?” the voice asked again, Elias hearing the sound on paper unfolding.

“Don’t!” he shouted, startling everyone and leaving the area completely silent. He cleared his throat and took the slip of paper back, refolding it and passing it back along to her. “Please… don’t look at these. They’re for her eyes only, ok?”

Turning around, he pointed to himself and said, “As you are doing that, I am going to go back to my locker room and prep her actual surprise for the end of the night. I think Kris is really gonna like it”

A chorus of “awww” and “how cute” erupted from the females in the group, some of the men tossing a smirk at how affectionate Elias was being for this woman.

“So… what time does she normally get here?”

A warm Irish accent from near the front responded with, “Well, she isn’t scheduled for a match tonight, so she’ll probably be her by aroun’ 9:30 - 10:00ish.”

A sigh escaped the bearded man’s lips as he wrapped his hair up into a messy top bun, looking up at the eyes staring down on him. “Do any of you have the time now?”

“I do,” the gruff voice from against the wall suddenly said, the body pushing off of it and causing waves of goosebumps to roll down his exposed arms. Reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out his phone, he told him that it was exactly 9:15.

Elias’ blood ran ice cold with a sudden nervousness and shock. “9:15?! We have to hurry this up, then!”

He shoved his way through the group, his fresh man bun starting to come undone and sweat beginning to dot his forehead. He was nervous before, but the time drawing this close only spiked his worries that this entire plan would just go to shit.

“What are you people doing?” he questioned the group, noticing how the majority of them where just standing there, looking unsure. “Everyone get to your stations. We don’t have that much time left, so move!”

Kris carried her duffel bag through the backstage entrance, a small grin appearing on her face when she recounted how many of her friends and fans had reached out to her to wish her a happy birthday. The feeling was almost heavenly; like a dream she didn’t want to awake from.

She felt around her jacket pocket for her phone and turned it on, her heart fluttering as she read the unopened texts from some of her friends.

💞Re💞: Happy b-day sis 🎂🎂🎂🎊🎊🎊 Eat lots of cake & I love ya 😊😊

👑Empress👑: Treat ya self today, ok? Enjoy urself for us 😜😘

♥Mara♥: Happy birthday, Kris! 😉😙

💙Lexi💙: Have an amazing, fun-filled birthday, love <3 <3

The breath she let out was long and serene, a smile plastered on her face as she made her way down the wide hallways and to her locker room.

After a few short minutes of walking, she’d reached her room door but was confused. There was no large group of superstars smiling whilst holding a large cake with her name written in frosting. There were no balloons hanging from her door or even confetti spilling from under the doorway. There was nothing there.

Sighing, she opened the door and propped her bag up on a close wall, closing the door before noticing a small piece of paper folded and taped  to the door. Feeling deflated, she took down the paper and unfolded it, reading the short note to herself.

Dear Kris, it read, follow the leads that will take you to your gift. I promise you’ll love it. Come and find me.

Below the short lines of text was a small drawing of a figure with red and orange streak scattered in its dark hair. It almost looked like…

“Ember?” she mumbled to herself, still confused about the whole situation. “What’s she got to do with this?”

Taking a few steps towards the corner of the hallway, she went to knock on Moon’s door but it fell open, revealing said Superstar almost falling flat on her face. The silence between the two only grew when she rightened herself, leaning her elbow against the door frame and giving her an odd smile.

“You ok, Ember?”

“Yeah, I'm fine,” she chuckled awkwardly, scratching at the back of her neck with her free hand. “So, what brings you knocking on my door?”

She felt her cheeks heat up as she answered with, “Well, I found this note thing with my name on it taped to my door and it had a drawing of you inside of it, so I came here because I wanted to  know if you knew anything abo-”

Moon's body straightened with a sudden realization. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “that's what this is about!”

The door suddenly slammed in Kris’s face as she shut it abruptly, her raising an eyebrow at the noises and muffled curses she heard from behind it. A few moments later, the door opened to an even more eager looking Ember holding a similar piece of folded paper in her hand.

*Here,” she said, thrusting the paper into her hands, “he wanted me to give you this when you came around.”

“Who's 'he'?” she questioned her as her eyes shifted from the grinning Superstar back to the identical folded note in her hands.

Moon pinched her pointer finger and thumb together and dragged them over the seam of her mouth. “That's for me to know and for you to find out, hun. Now open it already!”

Unfolding it, she was met with another drawing in a similar style, this time showing a certain Irish wrestler with what seemed like a sandwich in his hand.

“Are you telling me to go find Finn?”

She saw her eyes light up as she responded, “I’m not telling you to do anything. That's for you to decide.”

And with that, the door slammed in her face again, the sound echoing throughout the empty hall. Kris turned to leave but the door reopened, Ember reaching her arm out and gripping the back of her jacket.

“And by that, I mean yes. Yes you do.”

Before shutting the door a final time, she whispered a faint “happy birthday” before shutting it, finally leaving you alone.

“Well, that was weird,” she uttered, backing away from the door and pocketing the now two pieces of paper.

She was acting weirder than usual, she thought as she walked away from the door in search of Finn. And who was that “he” she was going on about?

Time seemed to fly as she walked towards catering and amidst the flurry of wrestlers congregating in the space, she spotted her target near the back having a conversation with Rollins.

“Finn!” Kris yelled, happy to see a familiar face and drawing his attention. She maneuvered her way around the room until she was face to face with the man himself. The two shared a quick hug before he placed an object in her hand, which turned out to be another piece of folded white paper.

“Another one, Finn? Really? What’s going on?”

He looked down at her confused and slightly angry expression and chuckled. “Can't tell ya that one, love. You're gonna have ta find that one put on your own.”

“That's exactly what Ember told me!”

She huffed in defeat after pestering him for a few more minutes, clearly not getting anywhere with finding out what's happening. Opening it all the same, she saw the drawings of a frowning male figure and a smiling blonde female figure that looked a hell of a lot like Dean and Renee. Turning on her heel, she threw the Irishman a look as he patted her on the head before walking off, crumpling the paper in her fist.

“Dude, are you really doing that stupid birthday hunt for Elias?” he heard Seth ask in his ear as soon as she was a fair distance away.

Brushing him off, he said, “First of all, it's not stupid. It's romantic. Secondly, I know that she'll love what he got for her.”

After finding Renee and Dean, they handed her another similar looking note which led her  to Alicia, who was sitting with the Glam Squad and getting her makeup done for her upcoming match. After their interaction, the last paper led Kris to a waiting Bayley and Sasha near the ramp entrance, eagerly chatting amongst themselves before she made herself known.

“Do you guys have the last drawing?” she asked, out of breath from walking all over the arena. “I really hope so.”

Bayley straight out her side ponytail before laughing lightly, her and her violet haired friend moving away from her. The two of them walked towards the curtain and pulled each side of it back, revealing a dark arena lit up with hundreds of phones.

“We don't have the last one,” Sasha told her, “but he does.”

She'd just about had enough of this secrecy crap, to be perfectly honest. “That's it! Who are you guys talking about? Tell me now!”

Chuckling, Bayley stated, “You're about to find out for yourself.”

As Kris walked through the curtain, she heard the two of them “ooh” as a lone spotlight suddenly flashed down onto her. Looking down the ramp, she gasped when she saw her well-known crush Elias sitting in the middle of the ring strumming on his guitar.

“She arrives,” he smiles, brushing a stray hair away from his face, “and just in time too. I was beginning to worry that you wouldn't show.”

She began to walk down towards the ring and heard him begin to play the first few chords of her favorite song, which brought some small tears to the corners of her eyes. Time seemed to slow down when she finally made it to the ring and stepped inside, their two spotlights merging into one as they looked each other in the eye.

He got up when she asked, “Was that…?”

“Side Effects by the Chainsmokers?” he blushed, scratching the back of his neck. “I heard from a few people that it was your favorite song, so I decided to learn it for you.”

“So these were your doing?”

“Guilty as charged. I just wanted to surprise you for your birthday today.”

A loud “aww” rang out from the fans, but she could barely hear it as he placed the guitar down and grabbed a small black gift box from behind his chair. Reaching inside of it, he pulled out a small blue velvet box and fiddled with it.

“I also found out that the stone for December birthdays was a blue topaz and since I love seeing your eyes sparkle with joy, I thought I could try and replicate that with a gift of my own.”

Holding out his hand, his cheeks blazed with a red glow, and a collective gasp was heard throughout the large space. Kris could even hear the faint shoutings of “What the hell?!” from Corey back at the announcers table as she opened the box to reveal a silver ring with two connected silver hearts. In the middle of it laid a blue topaz heart connected by the two smaller ones.

“Don’t worry, it’s not an engagement ring,” he rushed to the rescue, seeing how wide her eyes got. “I just wanted you to have something that matched your beauty to me.”

She couldn’t even form words, but chose to use the flush in her cheeks and the tears now falling from her eyes to express herself. The world came to a stop around them, and all she could sense was his warm and calloused hands on hers as he placed the ring on her right ring finger.

“Happy birthday, Kris.”

Nothing could stop her from jumping into his arms in front of all those people as soon as he finished his sentence, planting her lips onto his slightly chapped ones. The two of them shared a sweet, soft kiss, and she could feel waves of emotions rolling through the both of them as the WWE Universe clapped for them.

The heat from the lone spotlight above them was the only thing she could feel as they drowned out the rest of the world, leaving only them in that moment on her birthday to just enjoy the new kindled love they had for each other.

~~Tagging: @writing-reigns @gold--gucciempress @tacoshu @crossfitjesusinskinnyjeans @aj-mac21 @caramara3 @flawlessglamazon @timesnewreigns @the-carter-mob-don @neversatisfiedgirl @nerdlife0612 @theneverendingthirst @melinated-moon-goddess @wrestlingbabe @wrestlingfae @lhcartoonist @littledeadrottinghood @thetherianthropydaily @taryndibiase @crookedmoonsaultpunk @missmoxy @vebner37 @hardcorewwetrash @deepdisireslonging~~