#idk it’s weird and i’m at this college campus place and there’s this dude who i’m buds with

[loverboybitch]

had like 800 dreams at once last night i am feeling insane.//.

[daechwitatamic]

VI. Don't Think About Him || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

You try - and fail - to figure out who and what you want.

Section Warnings: excessive drinking, bar scenes, language, kissing, groping, maybe grinding idk

WC: 6k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sunday October 28th

Fire burns low in the hearth, but my feet itch and beg to go, into the night where the wolfpack hunts, into the storm of wind and snow.

I can hear only their hunting song. The blizzard steals from me my sight. I have no map to traverse this land, But I peer wistfully into the night.

The wolves, the storm, the wild land, Even still I must decide. I know despite the dangers, I can’t afford to stay inside.

“That’s fucking terrible,” you mutter, closing your book and scooting it away from you in disgust. “Wolves? Am I fourteen? For fuck’s sake.”

Still, it does touch on how you feel: like proceeding forward will result in you getting ripped to metaphorical shreds - but staying here, stuck in the familiar just because you’ve deemed it safe, would somehow be worse.

“Talking to yourself?” someone asks, and you jump with a shriek. 

“Namjoon!” you scold, as you register that it’s him in the doorway. “I thought you weren’t home for a few more hours!”

He crosses the room and tosses his bag onto his bed. “Yoongi has a lead foot.”

“How was it?” you ask mildly.

Namjoon wiggles his head, indicating both good and bad. “The brewery was really fun,” he says. “And it was nice for us all to hang out and talk at the house. We all used to dorm together… it’s been weird not living in the same place as them. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

This makes you smile. You’d been to that dorm once or twice, but you’d refused to hang out with Taehyung there because… well, dudes are stinky. And you’re not a clean freak by any means, but it was a little gross over there. 

“Well it was lonely and boring here,” you report. “I’m glad you’re back.” 

You’re instantly unsure if that was too forward, too much. Namjoon going away the literal day after you’d kissed him had given you plenty of time to think in private, but it had also given you room to sow doubts in your own mind. But Namjoon smiles shyly, pleased, so cute it makes your toes wiggle.

“I’m glad to be back too,” he says. “I’m gonna go shower and unpack. Have you made plans for dinner yet? We could order later?”

You hadn’t, but you have a feeling Taehyung will want to hang out after two days away. “I have plans,” you lie, figuring it will end up being true. 

“Ah, no problem then,” Namjoon says easily, and heads into his room, closing the door behind him with a little wave. 

You text Taehyung - “welcome home!! dinner later?” - and get up to start some laundry. By the time it’s done washing, and drying, and you’ve folded it, he still hasn’t answered. 

You try again - “hello??? this is y/n, looking for signs of life???”

This time, the response is almost immediate. 

[4:56 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: sorry [4:56 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: can’t tonight

In the end, you walk to campus alone, eating by yourself in the far corner of the cafeteria. You’ve splurged on ordering too much lately when these meals are built into your tuition. Besides, you don’t want Namjoon to know that your “plans” fell through. 

Friday November 2nd

Angel on the right… Devil on the left… 

You look side to side, conflicted. Such a strong case for each. 

“Are those for tonight?”

You jump, spinning away from the two Halloween costumes you’ve laid out on your bed. It’s not like Namjoon to come over to your side of the apartment; in fact, you’re not sure he’s ever talked to you while you’re in your own room. It’s usually you going over to his door to bother him, if you aren't both in the living room or kitchen. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I can’t decide. You’re coming?”

“I think we all are, except Yoongi,” Namjoon tells you. “I’m going as a detective. I have a magnifying glass and everything.”

You laugh. “I can’t wait to see that. Any thoughts on which way I should go tonight?” You mean the costumes. You’d texted Taehyung for his opinion and he’d returned with, “flip a coin”. You’re not sure why you expected anything else from him. 

“I think that’s going to depend on your mood,” Namjoon teases. “How are we feeling today? Naughty or nice?”

You raise your eyebrows. Was that… outright flirtation? “What if I’m feeling both?” you ask.

He laughs. “You need one of those half-and-half costumes. I’ve seen them in the stores.”

You have too, but you think they’re cheesy. “I think I’ll go devil,” you muse, a finger on your lips as you consider. “The angel wings are pretty cumbersome. And the bars are going to be slammed.”

“Naughty it is.” Namjoon flashes you a grin and disappears from your doorway, throwing over his shoulder, “No complaints from me!”

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the giggle. Well this is new, and damn, you want to keep playing. 

You Uber together to the first bar of the town’s Halloween pub crawl, the guys waiting for you outside. Taehyung howls in laughter at Namjoon’s long coat, fedora, and magnifying glass. 

“I see the devil won the coin toss,” he says to you, grinning.

You roll your eyes, still a little peeved that he couldn’t take anything seriously, even when you needed him to. This was a trivial thing, but still. It wasn’t a lot to ask.

Jungkook hands you and Namjoon a flyer with a QR code - it listed the locations of each bar and what time the group would move, in case you got lost or missed the exodus. Inside, you have to pay to get wristbanded, but the wristband earns you special prices at each of the stops. 

“This does not go with my costume,” you pretend to pout, the bright yellow wristband glaring against your short, red dress.

“I think everyone will understand,” Namjoon teases. Taehyung appears on your other side, pointing out the little laminated sign that advertises this bar’s drink specials. 

“You two need to catch up,” he insists.

Three hours and two bars later, you think you’ve achieved this. You and Taehyung cling to each other’s arms, holding each other up, somehow taking turns being the one who needs help staying upright. The first two bars had offered specials on shots, but this one only has special offers for mixed drinks and beer. 

“Do we pay full price for shots, or do we let The Man tell us it’s time to settle down?” you muse loudly into Taehyung’s ear.

“Don’t start with that shit,” he tells you. “This is Halloween, not a hippie convention.”

“I see at least four hippies,” you sniff indignantly.

“I think you’re seeing double,” he counters. “No more shots for you.”

“You aren’t in charge of me!” you yell, and head for the bar at a clip, ankles crying for mercy in your heels. You grasp the bar in both hands when you get there, steady yourself, and then reach up to fix your horn headband, which had been starting to slide. You thought Taehyung was right behind you, but when you turn to look, he’s talking to a girl in a mermaid costume. 

Of course.

It’s fine.

The bartender finally catches your eye and you flash your wristband, indicating you’ll take the special. He nods, turns and picks up a bottle. A body settles beside you; you turn, expecting that Taehyung caught up, or maybe Jungkook stopped by for a beer. Instead, a guy you’ve never seen before smiles at you. 

He’s in scrubs, complete with a fake stethoscope (you think it’s fake, anyway) slung around his neck. His nametag reads Dr. Love. You laugh out loud. “That’s so corny,” you say, your filter well and gone for the night.

Luckily, he laughs too. “It’s sewed on!” he protests. “I honestly almost Sharpied it out, but I thought that would look even stupider.” 

He’s really cute, you notice. He looks… clean. Older. 

“You look…” he trails off, letting his eyes roam to your feet and back appreciatively, “phenomenal. Is there an angel wandering around here looking for you?”

You grin. “Just me.”

If Kim Taehyung can find a hookup everywhere he goes, why can’t you?

But as you lean against the bar and take a sip of your drink, your eyes scan the bar before you. In the mirrored wall behind the team of bartenders, you can see a slightly distorted view of the patrons and all of their costumes. 

Your eye catches on a detective. 

Namjoon’s eyes hold yours through the mirror, though he’s about six seats down from you. There’s a tiny smile on his lips as he sips at what looks like a beer. A smile that says maybe he should have expected this. It’s the same face he’s seen on you when Taehyung does exactly what he did tonight. 

Beside you, Dr. Love is asking you something, but you don’t hear him at all. You don’t want to be here, in this spot, anymore. You want to be six seats over.

“I’m sorry,” you say, interrupting him, plastering a sickly-sweet smile on your face. “I just found one of my friends, and I’d lost them. Enjoy your night, though!”

You slip away before he can protest more than a syllable, before you can really register the disappointment on his face and feel guilty about it. Better luck next time, Doctor, you think, as you make your way to Namjoon.

As soon as you’re close enough he extends an arm, making a space for you right next to him. His arm tucks you closer, protective. He walks with you towards the far end of the bar, where it’s marginally less crowded. Once you settle into a spot there, he doesn’t remove his arm. His fingers rest on your bare, body-glittered shoulder, moving imperceptibly now and then, as if they have their own agenda. 

“Are you having fun?” you ask him. 

“Loud bars aren’t usually my thing,” he answers. “But the costumes are great.”

There’s a lot of alcohol in your system; your filter’s taken a hit. “I like this,” you sigh happily, closing your eyes for a second. You think you sway on your feet a little. The arm around your shoulders tightens.

“Like what?” His voice has gone deep, and you shiver a little. You want to kiss him again; you’d blame the shots but you’ve been thinking about it since it happened. The drinks just make it louder.

“Your arm around me,” you tell him honestly, and he ducks his head, dimples appearing along with a blush.

He shakes his head, still smiling. “You’re drunk,” he accuses playfully.

“It’s a Halloween pub crawl,” you point out flatly. “I’m supposed to be drunk.”

“That’s a fair point,” he allows. Then, he peers at you through squinted eyes. “Are you okay, though? How drunk are you?”

You consider this. “Drunk enough that I want to kiss you again, to hell with the consequences. Not too drunk to remember that there would be consequences.”

The playfulness leaves his face; it’s too obvious not to notice. “Consequences like what?”

It’s a challenge. He knows you know it.

“Namjoon,” you say, a little pleading. Don’t. 

“Consequences like Taehyung would see?” he presses. His voice has gone hard. He’s tiptoed around this issue before, but it’s the first time either of you have ever really given it life.

You feel like you want to cry. “Are you mad? About Taehyung?”

He softens. His fingers brush your shoulder again, absently. “No,” he admits, deflated. “No, I guess I’m not. But we both know that’s what you meant.” He removes his arm from your shoulders. It hangs listlessly at his side. You feel its absence painfully, like it had kept you tethered and now you might float away.

“Hey,” you say sharply, and reach for his hand. You miss and get his wrist, but you hold it like your life depends on it. He looks at you curiously. “I like you,” you tell him firmly. “A lot. I’m trying not to mess everything up - with anyone. But he’s my family, and if I lose him…” You take a deep gulp of air, trying to will your pulse to calm, your stomach to settle, your eyes to clear of stupid tears. “I have no one left. It feels… delicate,” you finish finally. You need him to understand. You wish you were better at explaining.

Namjoon twists his wrist from your grasp gently, but takes your fingers in his. “What about me?” he asks, voice a little pouty. “We aren’t delicate?”

You smile at him, relief giving you more of a high than anything else could right now. “No,” you say, and touch his chest lightly, just over his beating heart. You brush your hand down his chest, drop it to your side, and turn to stare out at the crowd. “No,” you say again, finishing the thought. “You aren’t delicate at all. You’re steady. That’s something I really like about you.”

There’s a moment of silence that stretches between you, tension building like a bassline, and then he gives a tug to the hand he’s holding. You turn back to look at him.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asks plaintively. 

You open your mouth immediately to answer, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t think about him when you answer that,” he commands seriously, fingers clutching yours so tightly it almost hurts. “Don’t think about anything else but you and me. What do you want?”

What do you want?

“I…” you start feebly, unsure how you’ll even finish the sentence. “I want…”

Jimin rushes up to you, breathless, grabbing both of your arms. Namjoon drops your hand like it’s burned him. If Jimin notices, he doesn’t let on. 

“We have to go,” he pants. “Literally right now. Jungkook hit on some huge guy’s girlfriend, it’s about to be a thing. Help me find everybody?”

“Where are they?” Namjoon asks, quickly setting his beer glass on the bar and reaching for your drink too. You let him take it, eyes wide. 

“Taehyung grabbed Jungkook and ran - I think they’re outside. Have you seen Hobi? Or Jin?”

“Jin left with a girl two bars ago,” you supply, glad to be able to help. 

“I see Hobi,” Namjoon says, craning his neck to scan the crowd. “I’ll go get him. Y/N, go with Jimin, we’ll meet up outside.”

He moves without waiting for an answer, wading through the crowd in what must be Hobi’s direction. Jimin takes you by the hand - it feels much different than it had felt a minute ago with Namjoon - and leads you through the crowd hurriedly, dodging people left and right. You look over your shoulder as he pulls you, trying to find Namjoon in the sea of people, but you can’t.

Outside, Jungkook seems to be arguing heatedly with the bouncer. 

“Come on,” Taehyung is telling him, looking honestly pissed. “Let’s just go. The night’s already ruined, let’s just leave.”

You pull away from Jimin and head for Taehyung. 

“Hey,” you say softly, resting a hand on his arm. He turns on you, still furious, but you don’t waver. “Take a breath,” you tell him softly. 

His temper gets the best of him sometimes. 

He shakes his head, angry, but you see his chest move as he obeys anyway. A second later he says, more calmly, “Come on, Jungkook, we can even go somewhere else if you want. We won’t have fun here, that guy’s friends are all worked up in there.”

Jungkook relents as Hobi and Namjoon join you on the sidewalk. You slide your hand off of Taehyung’s arm, feeling weirdly guilty. 

“We rallying?” Hobi asks hopefully. “Or did we kill the buzz?”

“Rally!” Jimin cheers, going over and shaking a sullen Jungkook’s shoulder. “Come on! The night prevails!”

“I’ll go somewhere else,” Taehyung says. 

“I think I’m done,” Namjoon says, glancing at his phone for the time. “I’ll Uber from here.”

“Y/N?” Taehyung asks, looking to you. For a second, you’re not sure why. Then you realize - you either have to Uber home with Namjoon, or opt to continue on with the rest of the guys. 

The angel whispers that you haven’t hung out with Taehyung as much lately. 

The devil whispers that you and Namjoon could be all alone.

0-2 for the angels tonight.

“I’m tired,” you say. “I’ll Uber with Namjoon. You guys have fun though. JK, try to keep it in your pants.”

He flips you off wordlessly, still sulking. 

They all tell you goodbye, Taehyung giving you an extra-tight squeeze with his hug, and they walk down the block to find another bar. You turn to Namjoon, who’s tapping at his phone to order a ride. 

What do you want? His question floats in your head. 

You don’t know. You want too much, too many things, too many contradictions. 

It seems like Namjoon knows, and forgives you. He silently holds out a hand, waiting. You take it, keeping it tight in yours, not letting go even as you slide into the backseat of the Uber, as it weaves through the neighborhoods until it stops in front of your building, as it drives away, leaving you lit in red taillights before vanishing around the corner.

You’re standing on the sidewalk in front of your building’s front door, Namjoon’s hand in yours, your eyes sleepy but your pulse racing. 

He tugs you towards the stairs, and you think he’s going to lead you inside. Instead he spins you and presses you back against the stone balustrade, one hand splayed across the middle of your spine, the other cupping your jaw as he kisses you insistently.

You open immediately for him, giving a happy noise low in your throat. His spare hand, the one not holding you up off the rough stone below, grips the back of your neck for the barest of seconds before continuing down - rubbing patterns past your shoulder blade, the middle of your back, down to the dip of your waist, the swell of your hip, the meat of your ass. He’d better appreciate every curve, you squeezed into spanx for this dress. 

You grip at the lapels of his ridiculous detective coat, the earth spinning in circles around you in a blur. You’re aware of only where your hands bunch the fabric, of only where his teeth and lips and tongue clash with yours, of only the fiery path his hand traces up and down your body. You melt into his touch, wanting more, trying to pull him closer, trying to get lost in each sensation.

He breaks the kiss to nip a line of sharp nibbles down your neck. You whine, trying to give him more room. His hands come to rest on your ribcage, thumbs not quite reaching your chest, which has to be a conscious decision on his part. You can feel the cold night air on your thighs; your dress has ridden up. This snaps you out of the moment a little. 

“Namjoon,” you murmur, but it comes out a little whiny as he continues to nibble down near the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “We should go inside.”

He stills, then pulls away, eyes seeking yours for any signs of discontent. “Yeah,” he says finally, one syllable all he can handle. “Come on.”

He releases your body gently, letting you find your balance on the pavement. Then, he leads you up the stairs and inside. In the threshold of the apartment, you look at him, a question on your face.

“We’re both really drunk,” he says apologetically, reaching out to brush some stray hairs away from your face. “We should probably cool down a little.”

He’s right - you know he’s right. 

“Yeah,” you say, letting the front door close behind you. “Okay.”

You press one palm against the wall for balance as you fight with your shoes, sliding them off one at a time. 

Namjoon’s in his room, but the door hangs open. You pause in the doorway of your bedroom, realizing you have a problem.

“Um, hey,” you call across the living room, and he takes a few steps to come look at you. He’s lost the hat and the long coat, and his button-down is undone, revealing a tight, white undershirt beneath. “I promise this isn’t a come-on,” you say, biting back a smile. “But I legitimately can’t reach the zipper on this. Can you-?”

“Of course,” he says, crossing the living room. You turn your back to him, presenting the zipper. He gently sweeps your hair off of your nape and places it over your shoulder. You shiver, goosebumps rising along your arms, and you hear him hum a pleased noise at your reaction. You feel him fumble with the hook-and-eye at the top, and then the zipper sounds. He pauses halfway down your back.

“That good?” he checks. “You can reach that?”

“Yes,” you say, turning back to face him. He’s still got a bit of your lipstick on his mouth, and it makes you have to fight off a smirk. Down, girl. “Goodnight, Namjoon.”

He looks at you for a long minute, expression unreadable. Finally, he says, “Goodnight,” and steps back out into the darkness of the living room. When he gets to his room this time, he closes the door behind him with a soft click. You stare at the inch of light that comes from under his door for a minute before hurrying to close your own door against the dark.

Sunday November 4th

You spend most of Saturday in bed, heart and head both pounding, which means you have a lot of homework to cram in on Sunday.

After you shower and eat, you set up in the living room to get some work done. Namjoon’s door is halfway open, and you can hear the clacking and bass thumps that mean he’s writing in there. 

Midafternoon, he appears in his doorway, stretching widely. Your eyes skim the inch of stomach exposed with the stretch and then flick back to your page before he can catch you. 

“How’s it going?” he asks, heading into the kitchen. 

You twist your mouth, eyeing your laptop and the text spread open on your lap. “I guess it’s going. Sort of.” 

“What are you working on?” he asks.

“A paper for one of the bullshit general classes,” you tell him. “Which makes it more challenging, because I deeply do not care.”

He laughs at this, then plops onto the couch a few feet away from you, a water bottle in his hands. 

“How about you?” you ask. “It sounded like it was going well.”

“It was going okay,” he agrees. “I reached the end of a scene, so now I need to like… process, look at what’s coming next. I might take a short walk and let it marinate in my brain a little.”

You smile. “How come you never work out here?” you ask him, just curious. 

He gives a quick, self-deprecating laugh. “I wouldn’t get anything done. I’d just talk to you.”

You flush, feeling your face heat up, and bite back a smile. “What if I refused to answer?” you offer. “I could just sit here like -.” You mime zipping your lips, still fighting a smile. For good measure, you lock it up and throw the key over your shoulder.

His smile grows. “Wouldn’t help. I’d still be able to look at you.”

Your blush intensifies; you’re tempted to go stick your head in the freezer to cool your cheeks down. “I’ll turn around, then,” you tell him.

His grin turns wolfish. “I assure you, that will not solve the problem.”

Your jaw drops. “Kim Namjoon!” you scold, but you’re giggling.

“I’m just being honest!” he defends, laughing deeply, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Anyway, why? Does it bother you that I stay in there?”

“No,” you say immediately. “You can do what you want.”

He gives you a knowing look, like he’s used to your bullshit and isn’t falling for it. When did that happen? “Don’t get prickly,” he warns. 

“Don’t compare me to plants,” you grumble. 

“Do you want me to work out here instead?” he asks gently, smiling at you like you’re adorable, which just sets your prickliness off even more.

“I don’t know what I want,” you retort.

There’s a long, stretchy silence as you both consider just how true those words are, on several different levels. 

Finally, Namjoon gives you a nod in goodbye and heads back to his room. 

This time, he closes the door gently behind him.

–

Taehyung invites you out that night, to see a movie you’d been talking about. You tell him yes, as long as you can go to the earlier showing. But then you start to feel… guilty. Unsure.

You want to ask Namjoon if he cares if you hang out with Taehyung still. He’s bothered by some aspect of your friendship, obviously, but you don’t know what it is. Is it only the fact that Taehyung is a bit of a barrier for you two? Or is he threatened by the whole friendship? 

You lay sideways across your bed in the fading late afternoon light, considering this. You imagine asking Namjoon. You think his answer would probably be, do what you want, I’m not your boyfriend. 

Which, fair. That conversation needs to come first. Are you together, do either of you even really want that? 

In the end, you don’t bring it up. When it’s time, you do your best to sneak out of the apartment, hoping to avoid any conversation about it at all.

Taehyung’s car idles on the street below, and you let yourself in the passenger side and buckle up. You’re anxious, you realize, as Taehyung starts complaining about an argument he had with Jimin back at their place. You’re afraid he’ll ask something that will lead the conversation to Namjoon, afraid that he’ll catch you tripping up, clue in that there’s something worth his attention there. 

You can’t lie to him. He knows this as well as you do.

That’s why he never asks you questions he doesn’t really want the answers to.

You’re anxious for nothing, because Taehyung talks about his own shit for the whole drive to the movies, and the whole time you’re in line for snacks, and for the whole time before the movie starts as you sit in the back row of the theater munching on overpriced popcorn.

But the movie is good, and you get pulled into the fictional world, and when the lights come on you find Taehyung’s arm casually over the back of your seat. You hadn’t even noticed it was there. 

“I can’t believe Jimin wouldn’t come see this,” Taehyung scoffs as you file out of the theater and back to the lobby. “That was so good! Just because he doesn’t like that one actor?”

You’re curious if Taehyung would have still asked you to join him tonight if Jimin hadn’t turned him down first. 

But, like Taehyung, you don’t ask questions if you aren’t prepared to hear the truth. So you don’t ask. What would be the point?

You wonder during the drive home if you’d feel better talking to Taehyung about what was going on with you if the guy in question wasn’t his friend.

Maybe.

But only a little better.

Monday November 5th 

Unlike the Monday before, Namjoon leaves for campus without you on Monday morning. You aren’t sure if he’s upset with you, or if he just needed to be there early. You’re too cowardly to ask. 

You need some support.

If it’s not coming from your “best friend”, you’ll have to outsource. 

You trudge through your morning class, eat as fast as you can - alone - in the cafeteria, and head to the student center. You get to the store well before your shift starts. 

You aren’t allowed to clock in yet, so you kill some time doing reading for class in the stock room. The second your shift starts, you’re at the front registers, uncomfortably close to Kris’s personal bubble.

“Yes?” they ask you archly, eyeing your proximity suspiciously. 

“I… have a confession to make,” you say, your voice as quiet as you can make it. You’re barely moving your mouth, you’re trying so hard to not actually say these words. “There… has been… perhaps… some kissing.”

Kris is stunned into silence for the first time since you’ve known them. Eyes wide and jaw slack, they stare at you. Then, they clarify loudly, “By you?”

You growl in exasperation. “Don’t be cute.”

Kris beams. “Can’t help it, it’s ingrained in my DNA.”

“I need you to be just a tiny bit serious,” you tell them, “because I am having a full-blown crisis.”

Kris sobers instantly. “Wait,” they whisper. “Crisis? Explain.”

“I kissed…” you cast your eyes around the bookstore, making sure no one’s lurking, “...the one I live with.”

Kris gasps. “You did not! You kissed him? Not the other way around?”

“I did,” you admit, feeling yourself flush again. “Twice. Well, the second time he started it, if you want to get technical.”

“I do want to get technical,” Kris whispers, voice almost reverent. “I can’t fucking believe this. So, why the crisis?”

You take a deep breath. Which factor to start with? Because you don’t want to give up on Taehyung yet? Because you don’t want to risk altering that friendship beyond repair? Because you don’t know if Namjoon will be able to handle your best friend being a guy - a guy that you’ve had feelings for?

“Because I don’t know what I want,” you say, the simplest truth. “I can’t get my head straight.”

Kris cocks their head. “If you didn’t know Taehyung - if you removed him completely from the situation -.”

“Impossible,” you protest.

They hold up a finger to silence you. “If you removed him from the situation,” they continue over you, “would you want to pursue things with Namjoon?”

Guilt hits you like an ocean wave, tugging you down, down, down. “Yes,” you whisper, because that part is just true. There’s no wiggle room, no if’s. You like him. You want to see where it will go. If there were no chance of losing Taehyung in the mix, it wouldn’t be a question at all.

“Y/N,” Kris says insistently, leaning towards you. “You are not doing anything wrong here. Taehyung is your friend. Nothing else - and that’s his fault. You aren’t, like, betraying him by catching feelings for someone else. He can’t expect you to sit around waiting for him until you die!”

“He doesn’t expect that,” you say, still in a whisper, because suddenly your throat is tight in that way it gets when you’re upset. 

“You need to talk to Taehyung,” Kris tells you gently. You groan. “And the conversation should not be you asking for permission, either!” they continue, impassioned. “You need to tell him I’m seeing someone and you need to be okay with it.”

“But they’re friends,” you protest. “It’s so messy. I’ve never had messy before.”

“You’ve never had anything before,” Kris points out.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble. “Yes I have.”

“Nothing that mattered,” they correct. “Nothing with feelings.”

You slump onto the counter. “I hate this.”

“I’m telling you,” Kris says airily. “If you don’t talk to them, this is all going to blow up in your face. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”

“Why do you have to be right all the time,” you complain. Kris smiles beatifically.  

When your shifts ends, your feet take you not towards home, but towards the academic building where Namjoon’s “office” is. 

You’re thinking about your conversation about Kris; you’re thinking about the idea of fairness. 

It isn’t fair, as Kris said, for Taehyung to expect you to wait indefinitely for something that was probably never coming, to hold you emotionally hostage.

It isn’t fair for you to do the same thing to Namjoon - to keep him waiting, wondering, unsure if you’ll ever be completely in it. You know that’s the reason things have kept progressing so slowly between you. You’ve felt guilty letting it get any further, felt afraid of those damn consequences. And if you had to bet, Namjoon has been trying to wait for you to sort it out, to make the choice - to choose him. 

You can hear the low tones of his voice as you approach down the quiet hallway. Only the staff are normally back here, sometimes one or two students who need to speak to a professor, so there’s not a lot of foot traffic. 

You linger in the hallway, leaning against the wall and messing around on your phone, far enough away to not be able to tell what Namjoon and the student are discussing. When the student - a young guy who looks absolutely dejected as he passes by you - exits, you slip past him and lean against the doorway. Namjoon doesn’t notice you right away. It’s clear that his hours have ended and he’s packing up his stuff. When he does notice a body in the doorway, he jumps, inhaling sharply in alarm.

He slumps against the back of the chair when he registers that it’s you.

“I’m usually the jumpy one,” you giggle. 

He gives you a sideways smile as he leaves over his bag on the floor, messing with the clasp. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else. What are you - I mean, what’s up?” 

“What am I doing here?” you tease, catching his slip. You feel a little nervous, but you’re determined to do this correctly, to treat him better. “I came to see if you wanted to walk back together.”

Namjoon goes a little still, and you hurry to add, “It’s okay if you don’t! It didn’t make my walk longer or anything to come here first. I just thought I’d check.”

He lets you babble. He does as he’s been doing since the beginning - he waits you out with a patient smile. 

“So…” you finally finish, the nerves fluttering and hopping around your stomach. “Do you? Want to walk back with me?”

He stands, lifting his bag from the ground and hoisting it onto his shoulder. “Yes,” he says simply, giving you a tiny smile. 

You follow him down the narrow hallway, back down the stairs you’d climbed a minute ago, and outside. It’s a nice day - bright and sunny, chilly but not freezing. Campus is busy, and you have to people-dodge a little as you cross the main section, the crossroads of the two main paths. 

The second you cross through the front gate and step onto the city sidewalk on the other side, Namjoon silently reaches for your hand. It’s different from last time, in the rain - not urgent, not pulling. It’s gentle and tentative and, weirdly, somehow sensual the way his thumb runs over your knuckles as he glances sideways at you to see if you’re okay with this.

You give his fingers a tiny squeeze.

You walk together in silence for a few minutes, and then Namjoon asks you quietly. “How was your day? You had class this morning? Was it for Thesis?”

You smile up at him, happy to have someone to talk to about this. Kris would listen, you’re sure, because Kris is a good human, but they would much rather talk about romance. And Taehyung… it’s November, and Taehyung has asked you about your classes or your thesis exactly zero times. 

“No, not for my thesis,” you tell him. “Just a regular lit class. It was okay! I was so tired, I could barely stay awake… I think I’m still recovering from the weekend.”

He laughs. “Can’t imagine why,” he teases, voice going a little deeper. “I’m sure you were a perfect angel all weekend long.”

The joke - that you’d dressed as a devil - is not lost on you, and you grin up at him. “Clever,” you say.

He beams back, proud. “Sometimes,” he allows.

“How about you?” you ask. “Did you have class before your TA hours?”

“Yep,” he says, nodding. “Unfortunately, it was a research-based class.”

You groan in sympathy. “First thing on a Monday morning? Fucking ouch.”

“Tell me about it,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m not much of a napper, but damn, I could use a nap.”

At the apartment, you decide to watch a show you’re in the middle of, and you settle on the couch with a throw-blanket over your legs. Namjoon appears in the doorway of his bedroom, looking at you a little balefully.

“Can I… do you mind if I read out here?” he asks.

You scramble to sit up a little making room on the other side of the couch. “You don’t need to ask,” you say, a little appalled that he’d felt the need. “You live here! I never mind, I promise.”

Appeased, he makes his way over and gets comfortable on the other side of the couch. It occurs to you that this is how you and Taehyung usually spend your time - on opposite ends of the couch - but you shove the thought away. 

You glance at him now and then as your show plays, and a few times you think you catch him watching more than reading. In between episodes, you notice his book face-down on his chest, rising and falling in deep, even motions. His head leans back against the arm of the couch, and his eyelids flutter as he dreams. 

Smiling a tiny smile, you fluff your blanket to cover his legs, and press play for the next episode.

<- Prev || Next ->

Thank you so much for being here!!!!! What did we think of what I lovingly call "the Halloween Pub Crawl Fiasco"?!

Section VII will drop on Friday, February 24th! I hope to see you there!!

[springfieldwater]

All Mine | part 1 |

bakugo x reader (quirkless au!)

First POV:

I was walking back to my car since I finished all my classes for the day. I decided to go to a family-owned coffee shop. It wasn’t far from the college that I go to. As I got there I saw a familiar car. The closer I got the more I recognized it. The car had “I LOVE MILFS” on the bumper sticker, definitely Denki’s.

I parked a row away from him. When I walked in to being hugged and yelled at. “Y/N! I didn’t know you come here?” Mina said. “The tea is good here,” I told her. Then I looked around and saw that Sero, Bakugo, and Kirishima were there too. I smiled at them and gave a small smile. Then I went to place my order of a medium, iced, hibiscus tea. Mina drags me to where the rest of the guys are at. “Hey guys,” I greeted them. They greeted me back except for Bakugo. “Tsk,” “Nice seeing you too, Katsuki.” He said something under his breath, I didn't really hear him. “Were you planning on studying here?” Denki asked while pointing to my backpack. “I was, but not anymore. I’ll just study at my apartment,” I told him. I heard my name and noticed my order was done. I got up and left. “Y/n,” the worker said. “Yup, that’s me,” I told him. I then hurried to get back with Mina, since he gave me weird vibes. “Y/n, you good?” Mina asked. “Yeah, it’s just that new dude gave me the creeps,” I informed her as I sipped on my drink. “I think he goes to (College’s Name),” Denki said. “Yup, I’ve seen him on campus,” Sero confirmed. Bakugo just glared at him.

Nothing extreme had happened after that. Those three idiots were just complaining about their assignments. Suddenly, I got a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown

Whose number is this?

Unknown (Y/n)

Ur the 1 who texted me first

Soooooo

Unknown

Learn how to properly type first.

Mina gave me your number.

Unknown (Y/n)

Why would Mina give you a number and not tell you who it is

Unknown

She told me who it was but I forgot.

It didn’t seem that important for me to remember.

Unknown

What a dick

wait a minute

Bakugo….

Bakugo :(

How the fuck do you know who I am?

Unknown

Everybody know who your are you hothead

and look up idiot

I glared at him as he looked up. “I knew that I just wanted to make sure you knew it was me,” he explained. “Huh?” Kirishma said. “Nothing, dumbass.”

Y/N

Wow ur a very nice friend

Bakugo :(

I know I am.

Y/n

Ummmmm

Who’s going to tell him

????????

Not me

“Hey Bakubro, why are you smiling at your phone,” Kirishima asked. “SHUT UP, IDIOT,” Bakugo yelled at him as he got up and left. “What was that about… Do you think he was texting a girl,” Sero said smiling. Then Denki realized what he said and smiled, “You know what, imma ask him. He’s just outside standing there.”

Bakugo :(

Did you see what you caused?

Y/n

I have caused nothin’

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE, DUMBASS!” I heard Bakugo yelling at Denki the minute he walked out. “I’M GOING TO GET SOMETHING FROM MY CAR!” he yelled back. “YELL AT ME ONE MORE TIME.” “WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO.” “YOU WANNA SEE.” “NO I’M SORRY.” “THAT’S WHAT I THOUGHT.”

Y/n

Asshole

I then saw Bakugo storming inside. He sat next to me and asked, “Why?” If you just glance at him once he seemed calm, but if you really looked at him, he was pissed. “Why what?” Mina question. “It is none of your business,” he told her nastily. Then he looked back at me. “I’m going home,” I said while I got up and left. Then I saw Bakugo following me. He started to run to my car. I just stand there looking all dumb. “I guess I’m taking him home,” I thought.

MINAISTHEBEST (she named herself that)

Wut’s that about

???

Y/n

Idk

He got into my car

MINAISTHEBEST

BAHAHAHA

I guess ur taking him home then

good luck baes 😘

Y/n

(╯ ͠° ͟ʖ ͡°)╯┻━┻

When I got inside my car, he suddenly asked “What took you so long.” “Um, you got into my car, without my permission, and then have the audacity to ask me what took me so long.” "Yes, now drive," he demanded. "Why should I?" "Because you were being rude to me," "Poor baby," I said while ruffling his hair."Don't touch me." I then slapped his face not hard but enough to feel twice. "WHAT DID I JUST SAY," he burst my eardrums while almost biting my hand off. "Does the baby need his bottle," I told him in a way an old lady talks to a baby. He was getting ready to tear my face off, but he knew I was his only way out of here unless he wanted to go with Kaminari. I started to laugh at his stupidly, mad face. He just gave me a deathly stare which just made me laugh harder. "Ok ok, where do you want me to take you." " To [College Name]." " Why there" "Because" "Because why?" " Tsk, I my car is there" "You could've just said that" I barely see that he rolled his eyes at me.

Five minutes later, we arrived at [College Name]. He got off and slammed the door. "BYE!" I yelled at him while blowing a kiss and drove off. I saw him flipping me off in the rear mirror. Then my phone started to blow up.

Ten minutes later, I was getting my keys to open the doors to my apartment. I then placed my backpack on the couch. I walked in the kitchen to make a simple meal. Before I checked the missed messages that Bakugo sent me, I changed his name to Little Baby because I can and will.

Bakugo :(

YOU DUCKEN BITCH

FUCKEN**

PEOPLE ARE NOW STARING AT ME

WHEN I FIND YOU

YOU ARE GOING TO WISH YOU'D WERE NEVER BORN

STOP IGNORING ME

FUCKEN BITCH

I started to laugh so hard that I ended up choking on the food that I was eating.

Y/n

Hahahaha 🤣

Bakugo :(

Are you laughing at me, you bitch.

Y/n

And?

What are you going to do about it

Bakugo :(

When I find you.

Y/n

Eww 🤢

Don't find me

Bakugo :(

I know where you live.

Y/n

Wait

You know what

You can come over anytime you want 😚

Bakugo :(

Tf

Aren’t you going to respond?

RESPOND TO BE YOU DUCKEN BITCH

FUCK

Y/n

Calm down

Bakugo :(

Don’t tell me what to do?

Y/n

ok

bye

Ur boring

Bakugo :(

Bitch

Y/n

Thanks

Isn’t past ur bedtime

Bakugo :(

I don’t have a bedtime.

I’m in fucken collage.

Y/n

That is not what Mina says

Bakugo :(

What the fuck does she know about me.

Nothing

Y/n

Ok bye

I washed my plate and utensils. Entered my room and grabbed some comfortable clothes to sleep in and then to take a nice warm shower. When I got out I sat down at my desk in my room, looking at my textbooks. -You know what, fuck it. I’ll study tomorrow. I got into bed and scrolled on my phone.

idk 🧍‍♀️

[get-shiggy-with-it]

#1 Victory Royale

✧ pairing: college student!spinner x student!afab!reader

✧ word count: 4.4k

✧ warnings: college au/no quirks, light angst, mostly soft/fluff, smut, could be hate fucking if you squint, afab reader but no pronouns, this is pretty tame, by like my standards, I wrote this at work, not really a warning, but it felt like you needed to know that

✧ summary: relationships suck and Spinner is starting to think maybe he does too

✧ ao3 mirror

✧ a/n: Hey y'all, welcome back to more college au bs from me. This is set in the same universe once again as all my other college pieces. A very sweet anon asked if we'd ever get to see more of Spinner, so here he is! Also with another cameo from shiggy's bitch (endearing) cause I can't help myself.

“Ughhhhhh….”

Spinner’s groaning echoed through the tiny apartment, the heavy sound of creaking couch cushions under his weight following.

“What?” his long-suffering roommate shouted out their bedroom door, rapidly shoving clothing and a toothbrush into an overnight bag.

“Uggghhhhhhh!”

He let out with another, louder dying animal wail. He’d been like this since they woke up—wallowing in some strange concoction of self pity and Red Bull on the kitchen floor when they walked in for water two hours ago.

“Motherfucker,” they mumbled, tossing their bag to the floor and marching, more than a little disgruntled, into the hall. “What do you want?”

Spinner was sitting upside down on the couch now, feet up against the wall tapestry and cotton candy hair splayed out on the floor. He stared blankly as his friend came into view—arms crossed, frowning at him from the end of the hall—and opened his mouth once more, letting out another garbled grunt that had one of the neighbors pounding twice on the wall to shut his dramatic ass up.

“Dude seriously, are you gonna tell me who pissed in your cereal or are you just gonna scream until the guys next door kick a hole through our wall?”

They almost felt bad as he looked away, sniffing and letting himself slump farther off the sofa until he was sprawled completely on the hardwood and staring, glassy eyed, up at the ceiling.

When he finally spoke a full sentence, his gaze was locked on the water stain above him from a year ago when the upstairs neighbors flooded their apartment trying to make jungle juice in the bathtub.

“I don’t know, I’m just in my feels as the kids say,” he sounded so dejected—strange for someone who was perpetually energized to a frustrating degree—that their shoulders immediately slumped from a hardass square to a softer, more sympathetic angle

They padded over to join him on the floor.

“Care to elaborate, oh roomie of mine?”

There was a pause and Spinner tapped his nails against the hardwood idly before responding.

“I guess I’m just feeling, like, fucking I don’t know,” he sighed, knocking his head against the dusty boards, “left out I guess? That’s not quite right, but it’s just Magne mentioned last time she came to The League meeting that Jin was seeing somebody and it just got me all introspective and weird…”

“Hm,” his roommate hummed thoughtfully and studied the way the textured white ceiling gave way to the rings of brown water damage, like a dead and dying flower, “I thought you and Jin weren’t ever that serious?”

“We weren’t,” Spinner groaned again and rubbed his eyes. “We went on like, one date a year ago and I haven’t thought about it really at all since then. I’m not sure why hearing he’s got someone else now made me so fucking...jealous I guess.”

“I mean, maybe you just never really gave yourself the time to process it?” they asked and received only an annoyed huff and accompanying groan. “Sorry, should have asked if you were looking for advice or just wanting to rant. My bad.”

“No, it’s fine. I think it’s just…”

Spinner trailed off and they shifted as the hard floor bit at their back and made it ache. The muscles were sore already as it was, and Tomura blowing their fucking back a few times a week wasn’t really helping. They’d created some kind of perpetually horny monster, but something told them cracking a joke about it wasn’t really going to help the situation much. Thankfully, Spinner found his way to filling the silence a minute later.

“I don’t think it has anything specifically to do with Jin. Yeah I liked him, we’re still really good friends and I don’t feel like I need him to be more than that. It’s just that—and this is gonna make me sound like a massive asshole—but with you and your new fucking boyfie and now even Jin finding someone to date I just keep seeing reminders everywhere of how motherfucking isolated I am.”

“Oh,” they felt their face burn a bit, guilt frothing as they were forced to acknowledge the fact that in all the time they’ve spent holed up with Tomura, Spinner had been discarded like an old Steam game, bought impulsively on sale and never played again. “I’m sorry I haven’t been prioritizing you—”

“No, no, no shut the fuck with that,” he waved his hand to cut them off and pushed himself up on his palms. “I know I’m not being fair about it, and I really am happy for you guys, but idk man….I just feel like I’m never gonna find that you know?”

Beside him, his roommate remained sprawled out on the floor like a homicide tape outline and was just as deadly quiet.

“I just,” he continued, running an angry hand through his hair, “I know I could be such a good partner. Like I’m funny and I’m not a fucking creep, which is actually a plus to most people.”

He shot a side glance down and they rolled their eyes, sitting up and knocking his shoulder roughly till he toppled back to the dirty floor and they stood above him.

“Fuck off,” they chuckled.

His roommate watched as the laughter seemed to infect him like a bad cold, creeping down the back of his throat and shaking in his chest.

“No I’m serious, I would be such a fucking great boyfriend. I give goddamn top quality cuddles and I actually know how to do laundry, what more does one need truly?”

“Damn bro, you’ve known how to fold your own clothes this whole time?”

The giggling spread into the quiet space, rocking through both their shoulders and leaving the air feeling light—fresh like the first nights of Spring. When it finally petered out into friendly silence, they were both far lighter.

“I just like the way you fold my t-shirts, the sleeves don’t get those weird creases when you do it,” he muttered and stood, doing his best to fix the wild pink locks that stood on end from his fidgeting.

“Yeah I’m sure,” his roommate rolled their eyes and turned back down the hall.

When they left for the night to stay over with their boyfriend, Spinner tried not to acknowledge the way he subconsciously glared at their back as they walked out the door, skipping yet another League meeting to swap spit with that guy from their English class.

He tried even harder not to think of how their bed would be warm and their legs would have legs to tangle with, their chest have a chest to lay against, while he heated up instant noodles in the microwave and fell asleep alone on their living room couch.

Not to mention that tonight was the big tournament with that new group on campus. He was really banking on his bff (best fucking friend as they were always sure to clarify) and him teaming up to crush those assholes from The Commission or whatever they called themselves.

Fucking lame as shit name in his opinion.

In any case, he’d have to settle for Magne again, and she was such a loose cannon they were sure to get their asses handed to them. She was a great fucking tank, he’d be the first to admit, but strategy was not a strong point of hers and they desperately needed that tonight.

He could feel the sinking weight of failure rolling in the pit of his stomach already even as he dragged himself into his room to tug on an old pair of jeans.

It bothered him way more than it should, the idea of losing some gaming tournament that, by all means held little to no actual significance.

Spinner knew the stock he’d started placing in games was growing to an unhealthy degree.

He knew that.

But self awareness rarely did anything to alleviate the irrational fear of failing at one of the only remaining consistencies in his life.

It stung worse when the tournament kicked off and by the third round, Spinner was the only remaining League member in the brackets.

“Fucking shit…” he muttered to himself, the small basement room alight with the blue glow of the monitor and the sound of frantically smashing controllers.

Behind him on the couch—stolen long ago from the theater building—Magne held him by the shoulders as he grit his teeth and leaned into the movement of his avatar on screen.

“You got this babe,” she shouted, cheek pressed up to his ear. “Make ‘em eat shit for me!”

“I would if you stopped distracting me,” Spinner hissed back.

Really it wasn’t Magne’s aggressive and somewhat bloodthirsty style of encouragement that shook his focus so badly.

It was his opponent.

The fucking president of The Commission sat, thighs spread and pressed to his, resting your weight on your elbows and snarling beside him in the couch.

Your face was split in this heart stopping grin as you quite deftly dodged all his attempts to get a hit in and managed to land a few of your own in the process.

And you looked really hot doing it.

Which was definitely just a side effect of the punch he (didn’t) drink and the body heat fueled temperature of the room—sweaty skin against sweaty skin making his mind wander against his will.

The shifting in his seat was absolutely just to illogically make him move faster and had nothing to do with how tight his pants now seemed.

So much for not being a fucking creep.

Your teammates were gathered in a circle behind you, enraptured and exuding the kind of smug confidence that said quite clearly The League was fucked from the second they walked in.

Not even two minutes later your hands were thrown up, punching the air and your team piling over the back of the couch to drown you in a sea of celebratory limbs.

Spinner felt himself deflating even as he was toppled off the couch by your screaming members and The League collectively cursed in the background.

Truthfully he’d known the chances of winning were slim.

Ever since his roommate started getting busy with classes and clubs that ‘looked good on their resume,’ The League had gone downhill rapidly. It was a problem since long before that Shigaraki guy swooped in and stole them away, but Spinner couldn’t stop himself from lowkey holding that against him.

The League had consumed so much of his life in college, functioning as a haven where he was finally respected and belonged to an extent he’d never experienced before.

The stink of failure and loss, not of the game but the only space he’d ever really occupied without complaint, burned his face and made the room feel more suffocating than usual.

Magne looked as though she wanted to give him one of her signature—and admittedly very comforting—hugs, but the deadly look of disappointment on Spinner’s face must have made her think twice.

The rest of his team seemed to read this sudden downward shift in the room as they began to filter out, climbing the steps onto street level and away from the suddenly stuffy, uncomfortable meeting spot. Normally everyone would stay and finish off the drinks snuck past the janitorial staff, eating Doritos until well past midnight. This time they couldn’t wait to be rid of him.

He couldn’t really blame them.

The multimedia building was a strange place after hours. Once Spinner might have called it something rare and liminal, now it felt more like a prison.

He stood, packing up the consoles a bit more roughly than necessary when someone cleared their throat behind him.

He turned to see you, standing alone with hands on your hips and scowling like you were the one who just got their gaming reputation ruined.

“Dude what the fuck was that?”

Spinner bristled at the knife sharp point of your tone.

“Really?” he asked incredulously. “You seriously waited around to rub your win in my face?”

You rolled your eyes and took a step closer around the couch. “I’m not talking about the fucking game dumbass. Why the hell are you pouting like I stole your fucking candy or some shit? You ruined the vibes man.”

“If anyone was ruining the vibes, it was you and your cocky ass team.”

Spinner felt himself stepping closer too, pulled in by the celestial weight that accompanied any kindling argument.

“Me?” you pointed to your chest and scoffed, “Wow, I was really hoping you’d actually possess a bit of emotional maturity, but if this is how you get after a loss I’m not shocked your fucking club is bleeding members.”

At some point the two of you had gravitated close enough that he felt the puff of your last breath on his cheeks. Two comets, ready and willing to collide.

“I’m not being the asshole in this situation, you know that right?” Spinner glared down his nose at you, heart pounding in his ears. “Maybe you shouldn’t make fucking unfounded assumptions about people you don’t know.”

“So then why are your panties in a twist over a fucking game?” you retorted.

He was peripherally aware that your eyes had taken on the same laser focused quality as they had during the last round. Determined and locked onto him without sparing a glance to anything else.

It was this same undivided attention that he’d envied in you as you played, and as Spinner felt it trained on him, his pants once again felt uncomfortably restrictive.

“It’s not about the fucking game okay!?” his voice came out hoarse and far more petulant than he’s been aiming for.

Though he quickly felt the embarrassment give rise to a secondary heat as you both breathed each other’s air and searched the face across from you.

“Then what is it about?”

That strange, unexplainable, inexplicable rush of potential filled the small gap that remained between your bodies—the kind of tension Spinner was beginning to think he’d never feel again.

He’d kissed plenty of people. Almost more than he’d like to admit, or that they’d like to admit more accurately.

But when his flickering eyes found your hard stare still and unwavering from his, it felt incredibly natural to lean in and press his lips against your fading frown.

It was slow going, the few centimeters that separated you seemed like miles as he moved slowly, never breaking eye contact until his mouth was finally slotted over yours and you weren’t pushing him away.

There was still a bit of lingering confusion, as this was decidedly not what either of you appeared to be expecting from the prior conversation. That coupled with the fact that Spinner wasn’t entirely sure he remembered your first name made the feeling of your tongue prodding at the seam of his lips all the more startling.

When he gasped, you slid your hands up his chest and licked into his mouth. Tongue tangling between breaths, Spinner felt himself getting lost in the familiar and coveted taste of another mouth, another body, another hand that grasped, that desired, that wanted him.

***

Your knees dug into the cushions on either side of Spinner’s thighs as you bounced in his lap. He fought to keep his eyes open against the pleasure of his cock sinking into you over and over again, so he could watch the way your head was thrown back and your chest heaved with the exertion.

He dug his hands into your hips and let his head hit the back of the couch, feet planted on the floor to help his hips thrust up into you, earning him some of the prettiest, stifled moans he’d ever heard.

Truthfully, he had not expected to fuck you. He figured you might be down to just make out for a bit until the cleaning staff came and booted you from the building, but both your pants had quite quickly and naturally found their way to the floor.

Neither of you spoke much, which he was thankful for. That would have been far too complicated of a conversation, especially considering you really didn’t know each other all that well.

Spinner usually liked to do a bit of ‘getting to know you’ type activities before he hooked up with people, which he did with surprising frequency for somebody so starved for a long term thing. Sex just fucking felt good and it was this eagerness that was his downfall. Most people he’d fucked around with seemed to read the urge to get into their pants as a diminished interest or emotional attraction and Spinner ended up with more friends with benefits than actual friends...or benefits.

Regardless, it was fine by him that the only form of communication passing between you for now were scattered groans of pleasure and the wet slap of your ass against his thighs.

He’d nearly forgotten how fucking amazing pussy felt.

For no particular reason, Spinner had always found himself fooling around with bodies more similar to his own. Not that he had any real preference, though the lack of experience often made him a bit nervous in the whole ‘pleasing your partner’ department, despite many helpful lessons from his roommate.

That was all to say that Spinner was incredibly thankful you reached down to guide his hand that had clumsily begun rubbing circles on your clit. That is until you simply knocked it away and went back to riding his dick like a fucking champ.

Then he did speak.

“Wanna make you cum,” he mumbled and really did sound like he was pouting this time.

You peered down at him, slowing your pace so you sat flush in his lap, grinding his cock deep against your walls. Spinner keened as you clenched around him, pussy so deliciously warm he felt himself near to drowning in the feel of you.

“Mm fuck,” you panted, leaning in to steal a few more messy kisses from him before lifting up and enveloping him in the slick heat all over again. “Don’t worry about it.”

“No,” he nipped at the column or your throat, careful not to leave any lasting marks just in case. “If I’m finishing, you’re fucking finishing.”

You pulled back and stared at him for a moment. He felt you purposefully tightening around him just so he would squirm under your curious gaze. After a moment you smirked and rolled your eyes again, taking his hand and guiding his fingers back to that little nub just above where his thick length was seated inside you.

Spinner was proud of his dick, it was hefty but not so long that it was a hassle to fit—just enough to reach all the important bits. He was sensitive as hell too most of the time, so just about any pressure felt amazing. But the best part of it was watching whoever he was fucking fall apart on his goddamn perfect cock.

So when you whispered, “Like this,” and showed him the rhythm and motion you liked, he pulled himself back from the brink to pay attention, speeding up until that look of cooled control slid right off your face.

“Ahh, yes fuck...” the words tumbled from you freely now. “Shit, yeah just like that—”

Spinner could get fucking drunk off the low groan that left you as he planted his feet more firmly and bucked his hips up. He must have hit something good by the way you choked and moaned boarding on too loud, though he had neither the heart nor self control to stop you.

“Feel good?” he grunted, picking up the pace and force he thrust into you, so that you had to loop your arms around his neck and hold tightly as he speared you on his cock.

“Fuck...yes..” you whimpered into his shoulder which did wonders for his ego.

Spinner kept up his rubbing frantic patterns on your clit and feeling the gradual constriction of your walls around him—the coil growing tight and ready to snap. He nudged your cheek with his until you pulled back a bit to face him.

“I want to see you,” he murmured, sucking your tongue into his mouth for a moment and tearing himself away so he could watch as you came undone around him.

You gave him a strange, soft look and pressed your forehead to his, eyes zoned in on only him.

The rest of the room, the whole fucking basement and campus melted away under that stare.

Your nipples peaked through your shirt, brushing against his as you were jostled into him by the movement of your hips. As you reached your peak, words devolved into increasingly breathy gasps. It took Spinner an incredible amount of concentration not to fucking paint your insides then and there.

Your pussy was so goddamn tight and warm and milking him just right, it was a fucking impressive feat to remain staunchly at the edge of his peak as your mouth fell open and your fingernails scratched at his back when you finally came—the telltale spasms around his cock and the near sobs coming from you more than enough indication.

He lost himself well and truly then.

Lost in the false sense of intimacy that came with being allowed to see you fall apart, this person he barely knew yet made him feel immensely important in that moment. Your breath and spit was in his mouth, the smell and feel of you soaking his length pushed him beyond the realm of conscious thought.

There was only a deep and burning need to be closer to you. So, so much closer.

His hands moved of their own accord, hooking under your thighs and flipping your bodies so your back hit the cushions and he hovered above you. The angle allowed him to slide deeper, pulling out and thrusting his hips in fast, hard strokes that hurtled him towards release.

Spinner couldn’t keep himself quite now either, panting and moaning and gasping unashamedly with his eyes screwed shut as you took his cock so unbelievably well.

It wasn’t until your hands, softer than he’d imagined, cupped his jaw and pulled him down to meet you that he was brought back down from whatever higher plane of existence his impending orgasm whisked him too.

Your lips weren’t nearly as frantic as the rocking of his thighs, the slap of his balls against your ass. The sweetness was an odd but welcome contrast.

“I’m gonna—fucking mm...” he tried so hard to get his tongue to form the words but he could feel himself slipping further as you started clamping around his length again.

“I know,” you breathed against his lips, faces pressed together and unmoving eyes steady on his own. “Ahh, inside if you want.”

He did want.

Oh fuck did he want nothing more in that moment to stay sunk in your warmth and pump you so full, but the last few remaining logical braincells reminded him that was not a great idea. Not without a more in-depth conversation neither of you was in a state to have.

“Shouldn’t...” he groaned and moved to pull out but your ankles locked around his ass and forced him back down.

“It’s okay,” you huffed and rocked into him, squeezing around the sensitive head of his dick just once, just right and that did him in.

It was something in the way you looked at him, so that he could feel nothing but secure—nothing but safe wrapped up in you. Something about the way you pressed him closer, in the movement of your thumb on his cheek.

It scratched some deep seated, lonely itch in Spinner.

Made it feel like this meant a hell of a lot more than it probably did.

In seconds he was blowing his fucking load right into you, milking himself in your heat until he was spent and overstimulated. You were kind enough to pull him to you, turning your bodies so you laid side by side on the coach, his softening cock slipping from you in a gush of release.

For a minute or so, neither of you spoke, just stared, long and comfortable at the stranger you’d just fucked on the gaming club couch.

Well.

Fucked wasn’t really the word he’d use at that point to describe what you’d just done, but anything more than that felt presumptuous.

You broke the silence as he nuzzled into your palm.

“You really needed that didn’t you?”

Spinner couldn’t help the familiar, infectious laugh that rattled in his chest. He liked the smile it earned him, far more genuine than any others you’d worn that night.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I guess I did.”

You hummed, nodding in response. “Mm, me too.”

And somehow, for no real logical reason, Spinner knew you understood. That you felt the same isolation, the same starvation for love, for holding weight in someone else’s world.

That the games were just a placeholder, a way to fill the space, to get lost in other lives, in other stories where he did matter. Where his actions had foreseeable and measurable worth. That’s why it hurt to lose. Not for the glory, but for the destruction of the only remaining diversion from how empty his reality felt.

Even if it wasn’t really.

Even if there were friends and benefits and friends who offered both. His roommate could let him rest his head in their lap on movie nights or sleep in his bed on occasion when the heat went out and he got cold too quickly. But none of that quite filled the hole like you now, holding his face and knowing the struggle without him having to explain it.

Nothing like you pulling him in and kissing him too familiarly for someone he’d only known a day.

Magne used to say something about shit like this. Something like how people bond in train cars when there’s a rat eating a slice of pizza and you all watch it happen. Some weird camaraderie forged in the shared experience of life being a little fucking freaky a lot of the time.

That was how it felt when you slipped your leg between his and brushed your lips together again. Content to lay, half naked in the media building basement, making out with some guy you beat at Smash and fucked right after.

Reveling in the brief but meaningful feeling of mattering in some small, strange way to someone else.

Of holding weight.

Of being held.

[blossom-hwa]

fashion major!kevin

ANYWAY THERE WAS LIKE ONE PERSON WHO CALLED FOR A FASHION MAJOR KEVIN SPINOFF OF THE COLLEGE MODEL JUYEON AU I JUST POSTED (linked below) anyway! hope you enjoy, please reblog if you did, and check out my other dumb overly long blurbs in the stream of idiocy tag on my blog <3

pairing: kevin x gender neutral!reader

wc: 2.5k

genre: fluff, university!au

triggers: cursing

college model!juyeon

TBZ Scenarios Masterlist | TBZ Drabbles Masterlist

kevin moon is known on campus for two things: 1. his bright personality literally everyone loves him and if you don’t you’re jealous of him like sorry not sorry i don’t make the rules you know i’m right and 2. his.... unorthodox fashion sense. like eric thought his snake patterned shit was weird as hell?? but there are weirder things in kevin’s closet i swear to you. anyway this unorthodox style is what got him accepted into the fashion program at the university and even though there are a few assholes who stick their noses up at kevin’s work the vast majority of people are cool w his outfits even if they personally wouldn’t wear them and kevin is v well-liked in his major and on campus in general bc he knows everyone and is nice and polite and really a v cool person to be around when he’s not being a fucking idiot

and on campus there are fashion shows a few times every semester to show off the fashion majors’ work, and let’s just say that this university if p well know for its fashion major so some famous people sometimes come along to these events so EVERY TIME a fashion show rolls around the fashion majors get nervous as FUCK and there’s a lot of speculation on who will get noticed and whatever and everyone is secretive about what they’re working on and just. everyone goes fucking haywire and kevin is always v happy when the stress winds down after a show

(no one knows it but kevin has gotten offers from several companies to work with them after he graduates. he hasn’t told anyone except a few friends like juyeon/jacob and his family)

anyway you are also a fashion major who secretly really admires kevin’s stuff?? like you just think he’s so daring and creative and all of his work is absolutely amazing even if it’s a little weird and honestly you don’t even feel overshadowed by his talent and hard work you just feel in awe that you can be in his presence at all. you’re p sure kevin has no idea who you are bc even though you have a lot of the same classes you’re always too shy to sit or work near him bc even though he seems so nice and approachable he’s also just.... god he’s so good

BUT THEN. one of your professors announces that for the next fashion show they’ll be modeling projects that he’s assigning right now. which is weird asf bc usually you’ll all take your best clothing and like fix it or tweak it for the next show, like sometimes people will make something completely from scratch but that’s nerve-wracking and not many people do it unless they’re in a real pinch but it gets even WEIRDER bc this is not a regularly scheduled fashion event?? it’s like a smaller event apparently that they’ve organized just for this project AND THE WEIRDNESS TAKES THE CAKE when your professor says that YOU ARE GOING TO BE THE MODELS. YOU ALL ARE GOING TO PICK SOMEONE IN THE CLASS TO MAKE CLOTHES FOR AND THEY WILL MODEL YOUR OUTFIT

and this SENDS EVERYONE FREAKING THE FUCK OUT??? bc oh god you can’t rely on the models you’ve been using all semester now??? and you have to make flattering clothes for someone you might not even know v well and it’s just. holy fuck holy fuck holy FUCK

meanwhile you already know who you want to create for (/ahem kevin moon/) but you’re also chicken so like??? you’re just sitting in your seat looking over at him but not saying anything until your friend chanhee just pushes you out of your seat in kevin’s direction and is like GO ASK HIM BEFORE YOU LOSE THIS CHANCE and you’re like JESUS FUCKING CHRIST CHANHEE but kevin’s noticed your movement and he’s looking over with a smile on his face and you’re like jfc i can’t do this but chanhee shoves you again and so you kinda smile (you really hope it looks like a smile) and your voice is LITERALLY shaking when you go over and ask if it would be ok to use him as a model for this assignment and he’s like.... oh my god yes

because what YOU don’t know is that kevin has been ogling your designs all year?? like he enjoys his own style and is comfortable in it but he loves your work as in LOVES IT. he thinks your designs are absolutely flawless and original and you combine styles so effortlessly that he just wants to look into your brain when you come up with ideas bc what the fuck?? you may have different styles but kevin knows how to admire art AND YOUR DESIGNS ARE ART. 

so you’re reeling a day later bc now you have kevin moon’s number and he has yours and he’s now texting you on when you think you’ll have the first preliminary designs ready and when you can meet up so you can get each other’s measurements and all that and when you eventually meet up your hands are shaking so much that you can barely take his measurements and kevin is screeching in his mind as well bc oh my god you’re going to model his clothes YOU’RE GOING TO MODEL HIS CLOTHES

most people are again being secretive about their designs and even though someone in their class is modeling for them this time so there’s a bit less secrecy they’re still working alone so you get a shock when kevin asks if you want to coordinate your outfits. like work on designs together and maybe make something that matches a little though ofc retaining your own styles and you just shriek when you get the text and poor childhood best friend younghoon spills his coffee (you have been friends since basically birth and there are no romantic feelings whatsoever ok it’s strictly platonic like you watched younghoon vomit after eating too much bread when you were like 10 and he watched you get tangled up in a soccer net when you were 13 there are no romantic feelings stemming from any of that)

needless to say you reply yes yes ye sYES and kevin is grinning so wide on the other end that juyeon wonders if he’s gone slightly insane (which he has but we’re not gonna dwell on that) and both of you show up to the work rooms nervous as all hell (i’m not a fashion major i have no fashion sense i still think t-shirts/leggings are the way to go so idk how any of this works do not sue me) but kevin has a natural ability to defuse any tension in the room so within minutes you’re comfortable and laughing with him and wondering why you were so scared to approach him before and THEN YOU’RE REMINDED WHY when he shows you his design for you because... oh god.... it’s unbelievable. like it has a distinctly kevin feel to it but he’s clearly been paying attention to what you wear and what you design because it’s something you would like to wear and something you even think you could look good in. holy shit

and you just blurt out like kevin what the fuck this is so good did you like stalk my designs or some shit?? and you mean it as a joke ofc but kevin just goes beet red and mumbles something about how he really likes your work and how it’s so sharply elegant but also insanely creative and you’re just. open-mouthed like. dude i’m in love with your work too oh my god i’m gonna cry my fashion idol just said he likes my designs i’m gonna screaM

kevin stops you from screaming though even though he also feels like he’s gonna scream and this is the start of a very productive partnership between the two of you like most of the fashion majors are friendly despite the competition but you and kevin are on a whole other level?? and you start hanging out more and more often even when you’ve finished designing and are actually sewing (you ask him if this part can be secret bc you want to add a few things as a surprise - he ofc says yes and winks and tells you he has things he wants to add too which just makes you want to scream out of excitement)

and it’s a week before fashion show day and you and kevin are finished with putting together the designs and you’re excited as all hell and kevin is literally about to burst from his own skin and you insist that he goes first and when he pulls the outfit from the bag you’re just. in absolute awe. the colors match the design you made, it looks like it’ll fit, and even though it screams kevin moon it also has a distinct vibe from your own fashion style and you just yell KEVIN MOON YOU GENIUS as you snatch it from him and go change

(you don’t know obviously but kevin is blushing like a tomato while waiting for you to finish changing)

it fits almost perfectly, kevin marks a few places to fix and is debating whether or not to compliment you bc??? that sounds like he’s complimenting his own work and that’s egocentric as hell but then you say something like does it look fine and he just blurts out more than fine. you look great

AND YOU’RE SO FLUSTERED THAT YOU ALL BUT THROW YOUR OWN BAG AT KEVIN and are like GO CHANGE 

so he takes out the clothes and goes silent and you’re like.... oh my god does he hate it i mean we worked on the designs together and he said he liked it then but what if he changed his mind but then he looks at you and his eyes are sparkling and he’s like y/n this is perfect. literally perfect and he rushes to go get changed and when he comes out your eyes are bugging out of your head bc holy hell you pictured kevin in these clothes obviously since they were made for him but he looks so much better than you ever imagined

and then you blurt out something like holy shit you look beautiful

and kevin blushes again

anyway you both take your measurements and run out and then the day of the fashion show rolls around and both of you are freaking out backstage but the instant you two go on it’s like you both are literal gods bc you feel so confident in each other’s clothing and the crowd can feel it THEY CAN FUCKING FEEL IT and they go nuts when you two walk out!!! and even though it isn’t like a huge major fashion show, it’s just for this one project that your professors cooked up, you and kevin are both beaming like the sun when it’s over despite the fact that it wasn’t an important event bc holy shit you two had fun and everyone’s complimenting your clothing and it’s great it’s just great

finally all the chaos is over and the clothes have been put away and the makeup removed and you and kevin are now standing outside the venue in a kind of stunned silence that all of it’s over. it’s all over. and then you suddenly thrust out the clothes you made that kevin wore and tell him to keep it. it’s a present. and kevin takes it but he also forces you to take the outfit he made for you. and then there’s silence again

but if there’s anything you’ve gained over the past few weeks it’s a bit of courage. courage that let you talk to kevin, courage that let you design clothes for him, courage that let you become friends (and maybe something more) with him. you’ve also learned that kevin is a massive dork and a lovely human being and you’d really love to at least stay in contact so in that the moment you smile and say ‘if i asked you on a date, would you wear that outfit?’

poor kevin looks like he’s about to have a fucking aneurysm and you start to lose confidence but then he’s nodding like there’s no tomorrow like yes ye sYE S OH MY GOD YE S and omg you now have a boyfriend whom you like very very much and kevin has a partner whom he likes very very much

you two may not be a pda couple but you ARE that couple that matches every outfit they wear, you make jewelry and accessories for each other and also make each other clothes every so often. everyone is jealous of your combined fashion sense bc even though the outfits might look outrageous, you two both manage to pull them off and look fabulous at it, but also they can’t even be that jealous bc you two are the sweetest couple and are absolutely lovely 

both of you do wear the outfits you made for that show on your first date which is to like a musical or smth bc theatre kid kevin is something you can pry out of my cold dead hands and everyone’s staring but you two are in your own little world and it’s amazing

kevin admits at one point that he was afraid to ask you out bc he thought younghoon was your boyfriend and you just snort and tell him everything stupid younghoon’s done and by the end younghoon is done with you, kevin is about to vomit he’s laughing so hard, and you are smirking like no tomorrow

for the end of year fashion show you and kevin fix up and accessorize the outfits you two made for the show that brought you two together and there is absolutely no surprise that several different fashion companies scout both of you (and a couple modeling agencies too since you and kevin decided to model your own clothing again - younghoon whines that you’ve replaced him but you shut him up with chocolate bread)

kevin’s a sucker for romance (you CANNOT tell me this isn't true) so your first kiss is on the roof of the fashion building at sunset when kevin does the cheesy thing where he says you look more beautiful the view and you almost slap him but you’re laughing so hard and kevin’s cackling and somehow it turns into a kiss

you are a dork and kevin is even more of a dork and it just works out beautifully bc you’re so absolutely in love that it makes people fake vomit from the sides (looking at chanhee right here) but it’s also really sweet in that you two trust each other completely and would do absolutely anything for the other except murder. kevin made that v clear but really only bc blood would stain his clothing and he doesn’t need that. you agree wholeheartedly (younghoon/juyeon are looking from the sides like what the fuck is this couple do they need help and you two are like just go away and let us be the weird couple we are ok). the conversation ends in a v soft v sweet kiss and just. ik i said it with juyeon but kevin moon is also best bf ever ok you cannot convince me otherwise. 

and that’s how it goes :)

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for this weird-ass couple)

[hallelujah-lockandload]

Sweet Venom 2

Here is a link to the first chapter on here

The Wattpad link that has more chapters. I take a while to post here since AO3 and Wattpad give me more feedback :c

The first three days of school went by fast which is nice. Now it's Friday which means sleepover with Mikey! It's something we’ve always done the first week of school but also because we are literally best friends and my parents don’t care enough to realize I’ve slept over his house multiple times. The Way’s mom is always really sweet and makes us leave the door open cause we’re “teenagers and teenagers are horny”. She didn’t say that to us but I already know that's what she thinks and I’m also the only girl allowed to stay the night at all at their house unless it's a group sleepover.

I got up as usual and dressed in some black bottoms today and a smashing pumpkins tee. Walking down stairs to an empty kitchen is always nice, it means I get to take my time and actually be somewhere in peace that isn’t my room. I got breakfast ready and sat at the table scrolling through my phone texting Mikey.

y/n/n: Sup loser.

Mikey: morning punk. 

    u excited for tonight?!

y/n/n: OF fuckin course!! 

    Watchin movies and complaining and catching up

    Even though i see you all the time

Mikey: I still look forward to our yearly first week of school Shit Talk Sleepover

y/n/n: SAaaammme!

Mikey: Gotta watch some shitty hs movie this time

cause its your last first week shit talk

y/n/n: I don’t know mikes I still got college and youll be a senior

Mikey: tru

As I ready Mikey’s “tru” I finish my breakfast and then head up stairs to finish getting ready. I put on my usual makeup and brushed my teeth. My hair looks decent so I’m leaving it, no one will tell I didn’t brush it unless they run their fingers through it so whatever. As I reach the bottom of the stairs I hear a car honk outside my house. I go to the door and peek out and there’s Mikey and Gerard to pick me up. I wave and go grab my shoes and check my phone to see if Mikey said they were coming at all cause I didn’t think they'd be here. 

Mikey: we be picking u up early loser. (timestamp 5 minutes ago)

Of course the one time I don't check my phone so they have to wait a few minutes for me to tie my hightops and grab my bag. I lock the door as I close it behind me and head to the back seat of Gerard’s kind of beat up black Corolla. It's an older used car but it works for getting us all places. 

“Morning guys” I say, throwing my backpack into the back seat and stepping in.

“Morning y/n/n. You were late” Mikey said while Gerard just hummed in response to my greeting. I closed the door and off we went.

“Yeah well I didn’t see your text jerk” I said hitting Mikey’s shoulder lightly. It's too early for being rough. Mikey just laughed and we rode in silence to the school with Gerard’s playlist coming through the speakers.

~ 

The school day passed slower today than the last few. Probably because I was excited for the sleepover tonight with Mikey. I looked over at him in math and it seemed like he felt the same way. Once classes were out for the day I went to grab my stuff from my locker.

“Hey cutie” I turned to look at Patrick.

“Where’ve you been all day, jerk?” I laughed as I pushed him away from me. 

“Places…” He smirked turning to lean against the lockers. “Mostly hiding from Carry which meant I couldn't hang with you cause I knew she would look for me there.”

“Dude.” I said staring at him.

“I know, I know. I just need to find her a new boy to crush over”

“Fast,” I added, closing my locker.

“Hey guys!” I turned to see Pete and Mikey heading our way. 

I leaned over to Patrick, “I'd say point out Pete to her but that would just be cruel.” I laughed and so did he.

“What are you two idiots giggling about?” Pete said, stopping next to us.

“Nothing.” Patrick and I said together. We looked at eachother and just cracked up even more. 

“Ugh” Pete groaned and turned to Mikey, “Control your bestfriend.”

“You first” Mikey responded with a smirk. 

Pete rolled his eyes, “Lets get the fuck out of here, schools been out for like 10 minutes.”

“Oh that's so long” I said sarcastically as I fixed my backpack on my shoulder.

“Shut up.” Pete said smiling as we started to head out of the hallway and make our way to the front of the school. 

“Hey Mikey how's operation Sweet Poison going?” Patrick said over my head.

“I’m working on it.” Mikey mumbled giving Patrick a glare.

“Oooooh! What's Sweet Poison?! Let me help!” I said turning to Mikey.

“You can’t help cutie, it's a secret” Patrick said next to me.

“Yuup. Only us boys get to know” Pete said. I glared at Mikey who was looking everywhere but me. Looks like I’ve got some secrets to get out of Mikey now. Mikey keeping a secret from me is new and only a bit concerning. 

“Alright,” I said, shrugging and turning back around, “Keep your secrets. I’ll just assume it's about your crush then.” I smirked as I walked over to the cars seeing Gerard leaning on the hood of his car talking to Frank and Ray.

“Do not,” Mikey rushed up behind me.

“Yeah it's actually not concerning Mikey’s crush for once. Plus isn't that one called operation Heart Eyes?” Patrick said.

“Oh yeah!” Pete nearly shouted, “Fuckin forgot about that. Gotta get moving on plans for that.” Mikey’s face was turning red, which is ahh sweet revenge for keeping me out of the loop.

“Hey guys” Ray said, waving as we got to Gerard’s car.

“Sup Toro-saurus” I smiled at him as he pulled me into a side hug laughing at my usual greeting. 

“So any plans for tonight?” Pete asked the group.

Frank and Ray had a consensual nope and Gerard said sort of. But question? How do you sort of have plans? That's so weird but no one questions it. Patrick says how his only plan is to come up with a plan to get rid of his ex-girlfriend Carry. We all laughed at him but also gave sympathy cause who knew she was the obsessive type? 

“Y/n and I are having our annual first week of school shit talk sleepover” Mikey said.

“We are going to roast all of you behind your backs” I added with a smirk.

“Thats so fuckin rude” Pete said knocking his shoulder against me chuckling. The others laughed lightly too. We chatted for a little while longer before everyone was sick of being on campus and there was almost no line of cars trying to leave the campus. We said our goodbyes and parted ways. 

“You guys can drop me off at my house and I’ll walk over later. I gotta pack for tonight and make sure my parents remembered.” I said as we drove back to our houses. Thankfully Mikey only lives like a five minute walk from my house so I never feel weird walking there even at night. 

“Okay” Mikey said. Gerard just hums and continues to drive. He never talks to me much. I literally have no clue what happened to make him not like me. We have been in the same grade since like 6th grade, I mean he’s older than me cause he got held back in like elementary school but Mikey and I are 90% sure its cause he didn’t want to leave Mikey behind. Which is actually really sweet. But Still! Why the hate? Or dislike. Whatever it is, it kind of makes me sad because we probably could be awesome friends like Mikey says. One day I’m going to figure it out. Or like ask Mikey what the fuck is up. But its not at the top of the to do list just yet. I’m fine with the awkward ignoring for now. Well I mean… for the past 3 years. This will be 4 if things don’t change.

We pull up to my house and I thank them both for the ride, “What time am I coming over Mikes?” I say before closing the door.

“Uuhhhhh idk 7?” Mikey said looking over his shoulder at me.

“Did you just say idk out loud?” I ask him, chuckling with a smirk.

“Shut up. See you later bye.” Mikey says turning around. I laugh and say bye again then close the car door. I walk up the steps, unlock the door and turn around and wave at the boys goodbye to signal I am safe and can get in my home. They always wait to make sure I’m safe, Mikey is a good friend.  As I step in I drop my backpack on the table by the door and kick my shoes off before heading to the kitchen to get a snack. I plop down in a chair as I eat some dried fruit and sip at my water while sending a text to my mom telling her I was having a sleepover tonight. 

Mom: Okay. Be safe. Love you.

Y/N: I will. Love you too.

I put my phone down to finish my snack and think about what movie I wanted to make Mikey watch tonight. Maybe Carrie, I mean it's fitting since Patrick was talking about his ex Carry. Or maybe Mean Girls cause it's a classic. Maybe even High School Musical just to fuck with Mikey. We shall see. I smirk to myself thinking of how mean I’m feeling like being to Mikey. I mean he is keeping a secret from me soo.

Once my snack is done I head upstairs to change into more comfy clothes for the day. But I kinda realize I should shower first cause school is fricken gross. So I grab a pair of black leggings and a baseball tee cause uhh no one needs to see my butt thanks, even if it is just Mikey and Gerard. I spend probably too long in the shower singing and just enjoying the heat but it's not like I don’t have the time. After I get out I brush out my wet hair and throw it back up in a dry towel to help get more moisture out. (real tip right there, double towel dry) I pull on my clothes and head out of the bathroom back to my room. I grab a bag from my closet for sleepovers and pack some pjs, an oversized New Jersey Devils shirt and a pair of shorts along with a pair of pants cause sometimes Mikey’s room is a fricken ice box. Then I grab some shorts and a shirt for the next day just in case we decide to get dressed and go somewhere. 

After I finish packing I head back to the now aired out bathroom to dry my hair and put some much needed moisturizer on my face. No makeup cause it's Mikey and we’ve seen the worst of each other in the past that I don’t ever feel pressured to wear makeup around him. Plus my skin has been looking nice lately. I head back to my room and throw myself onto my bed. The clock next to me reads 4:15, I’ve got enough time to try and take a nap so I can stay awake later tonight. I set an alarm on my phone for 6:15 since I know I might just end up watching tv or playing on my phone but I need to make sure to eat a snack because pizza probably won't happen till 8. I lay down, put on some calming music before setting my phone down and closing my eyes for a bit. 

~

The sound of chimes wake me up. Where the heck am I? What time is it? I look around and realize I’m still in my room. Damn I actually fell asleep, who knew I could nap? I turn off my alarm and slowly pull myself up out of bed. I rub my eyes and grab my bag and some socks to bring down stairs with me so I don’t have to come back up after my snack. I walk down the stairs to a semi dark house. The sun is going down and neither of my parents are home. Cool. I turn the porch light on and drop my bag and socks off at the front door before heading to the kitchen for some snackage. 

y/n/n: we still good for 7??

I text Mikey to double check. Sometimes he forgets when we are supposed to hang out and goes to do something before realizing he’s now late for our hang out. I grab a pb and j sandwich from the fridge and sit on my phone for a bit as I chill down stairs. I check the time after my second pb and j… they are so good I can’t just have one! It’s 6:50 which means I’m allowed to go over and bother Mikey early. I check my phone and still no reply so I send a quick text letting him know that I’m on my way. 

Grabbing my socks and shoes I sit on the floor by my bag taking my time just in case Mikey says not to go over yet. Once my black vans are on I stand up grabbing my bag and keys and checking my phone one more time. It's 6:53 and still no response so I’m heading over anyway so I can bug him. I head out my door, locking it behind me and taking a shortcut through my grass to the side walk. It's only a five minute walk and the sun is setting so it's still nicely lit, plus our neighbors usually stay inside at this time cause it's like family dinner time. I head to the Way house and check my phone at least three more times but still nothing. What a bitch. I think at Mikey, if only telepathy worked with us. Coming up on the Way residence I see the down stairs lights on but Mikey’s light isn’t on in his room. He better be downstairs and not out of the house right now. 

I knock on the door but there is no answer which means Mikey isn’t downstairs or he has headphones on again. I use my spare key, Thank you Mrs. Way, and open the front door.

“Honey I’m home” I say sarcastically as I close the door. Still nothing. I peek around into the living room and no one is there. Odd cause the lights are on. The Way parents are out at dinner at the moment with some clients or something is what Mikey told me during Music Theory today. Next I head to the kitchen but still nothing. I head over to the staircase to go find Mikey upstairs.

CRASH

I jump at the sudden sound nearly dropping my phone, my heart racing and I have to take a moment tocatch my breath. I look toward the basement door that leads to Gerards room. I hope he’s alright. I look back up the stairs and  the nonexistent light of Mikey’s bedroom. Mikey’s light wasn’t on, maybe he’s with Gerard in the basement and they are just messing around. I leave my bag at the bottom of the stairs and kick my shoes off too before heading to the basement door. Why are basements always so creepy? Or is it cause no one is up here that it makes it worse than usual. I’ve been in Gerard’s room before but only to borrow comics and Mikey took me down there. I open the door and listen for a moment before doing anything. There’s just silence and if I didn’t know this house as good as my own I would be feeling way more scared but I still feel like I’m in a horror movie right now. I open my phone up and dial 911 just in case I’m about to be fucking murdered in my best friends basement. 

The lights are on down there which is better than anything else so I start to head down the stairs slowly. As I make it down the stairs I scan the room for the boys hoping they are just fucking with me and are trying to scare me. Reaching the bottom step I look around and notice a person laying on the floor by the open window. 

“Oh shit! Gerard?!” I ran over to him once I recognized his black greasy hair. He’s slumped on his side and groans as I approach him. “Are you okay?” I reach out and grab his shoulder turning him to lay on his back so I can see his face better. I suck in a breath as I notice blood dripping down his chin and also the dark stain at the top of his blue sweatshirt which is probably more blood. 

“Oh fuck!” I jump up and run to his bathroom grabbing a towel and running back crashing down next to him to stop the bleeding wherever the hell it's coming from as fast as I can. I press the towel gently to his face to try and wipe away some blood when his eyes snap open. Oh shit. In an instant I’m on my back, wind knocked out of me and towel still in my left hand with Gerard pinning my arms to the side of me while hovering over me with red eyes.

[thirty-five-owls]

A Fratt college Au

Where it starts on a quiet spring afternoon in a men’s locker room on campus. 

Frank walked in on a group of guys coercing a gagged, tied-up student which he thought was some kind of sexual assault situation, so being the hothead marine that he is, he barged in like a freaking grizzly bear, gave a couple of them bruises they’d never forget, and told them to gtfo he’s calling the cops, but actually it was just Matt being a slut who “arranged sessions with guys from debate team”, which he only apologized for after Frank got the gag out of his mouth. 

And Frank doesn’t know how to handle himself in this situation because he’s had exactly 1 long term relationship that was very sweet and traditional so he kind of just looks incredulously at this young NYC college student wanting to scoff like wtf is up with this dude, but Matt very warmly asked him please would you mind finding where you guys tossed my cane and clothes and direct me to the shower thank you. And Matt doesn’t shy away from letting Frank see him naked, it’s not his problem, he’s blind. Frank looks away anyway, he’s secretly glad Matt can’t see how awkward he was, but Matt knows, and it was like a sweet moment between them that only the readers know. And interacting with Matt feels different because he’s so naturally intimate with people in a way that sighted individuals often aren’t, because he need to be, his gestures are polite but without hesitation, when you guide him it’s like he doesn’t even know you but the weight of his hold lets you know that for the next few minutes he’s going to completely and openly trust you to keep him safe and it’s such a weird feeling to be trusted like that. 

And then Frank doesn’t leave the locker room while Matt’s in the shower, partly because he wants to make sure the guy’s truly okay and part of him just really doesn’t want to go yet, and Matt pretends like he doesn’t know Frank’s still there, maybe deliberately showing off in front of Frank when he dries himself, and it’s all very homoerotic. 

And that’s how Matt is in bed too, when Frank finally got to fuck the smart 23 year old law student, it was just mesmerizing the way he completely offers himself up and talks Frank into fucking him 23 different ways with the most irresistible voice, calling him “big guy” and “soldier”, coaxing him with the dirtiest fantasies. Idk I’m just really into the idea of Matt meeting Frank during his law school slut phase.

And Frank was only there in the first place because he lost a stupid bet to Russo and now “Lt. Castle” has to go off base to do military outreach stuff in universities, and it’ll just be like a summer camp type fling where they both really loved the sex and chemistry definitely more than just a hookup but knew they were different people who lived in different worlds, and Matt has a hard time dealing with a fuck buddy who’s murdered people before, so they just kind of stopped correspondence once Frank finished doing the outreach program and went back to active duty.

The next time they meet again will be years later on a random rooftop in Hell’s Kitchen where they beat the shit out of each other thinking the other person’s a stranger until Matt remembers the rhythm of Frank’s heartbeat and recognizes him. 

[cleoselene]

xena-worrierprincess replied to your post “like, I know y’all love to go all “not all men” about the Deep South...”

I never chime in on those posts because I'm a lifelong northeastern ~coastal elitist~, so not my place. But literally everyone i know who moved to the South says the same thing! So many moved back, and the ones that didn't are only staying in the South because they can't afford the cost of living up north anymore.

like, look, I live in and grew up in Southwest Florida, which is like, Diet South.  It’s mostly displaced Midwesterners but there’s some swampy types and you see your fair share Confederate flag stickers on pick-up trucks and like, my niece is black and was threatened with a school shooting and racial slurs and the school suspended the kid for a week when tbh I feel like he should have been immediately expelled and the FBI have been contacted but what do I know I’ve only studied under some of the most accomplished criminologists in the United States?  One time in my high school someone bleached a huge swastika in the hallway that was there for several days.  I regularly see bumper stickers of like the silhouette of an AR-15, so that’s terrifying.  My mom’s a lesbian and for most of my childhood we had to make sure she stayed closeted because it just wasn’t safe and the gay bars she went to were raided weekly by cops for intimidation.

And that’s Southwest Florida.  Diet South.

When I moved to Lynchburg, Virginia, at the age of 20, it was like culture shock.  The first question people would literally ask me is, “how many kids do you have?”  followed by “where do you go to church?”   If they didn’t do that, they would chat me up and act like they were my friend, only to try to get me to go to their church five minutes into the conversation.  I felt like Ralphie in A Christmas Story with the Little Oprhan Annie decoder.  “It’s just a crummy commercial!”  They were all virulently anti-choice and creepy anti-choice billboards were everywhere.  Awkward as I’d had an abortion a year earlier.  I didn’t dare tell anyone about that.  I’d see bumper stickers that said, “Abortion: The American Holocaust.”

Liberty University was fucking INSANE.  Male and female students couldn’t wear shorts or be alone together without a chaperone. On and off campus.  They were not permitted to see R-rated movies.  Drinking and cigarettes and drugs of any kind were out of the question.  Most of the students were there on scholarship paid for by donations from Falwell’s fundraising, so most of them just thought, “yay, free college” and had no idea what the fuck they were getting into.  And they had to go to fucking church like every day lmao.  A lot of them ended up dropping out and working at the local Eriksson cell phone plant where I also worked.  It was about 2000.

I learned to fuck with the proselytizers after a while.  One time I was sitting at a bus stop and this dude sat next to me and he was like, chatting me up and i was bored because whatever, you get bored when you’re waiting for a small town bus, and he was like, “ Have you heard of that movie, that Passion of the Christ?”

and i was like, “Oh my god I heard people are like, BARFING AND SHIT when they see it!”

and he was like, “Oh...well, I saw it and I couldn’t help thinking about he went through all that for me.”

by that time I’d been preached to so many fucking times I was just completely over it, and deadpanned, “I don’t believe in Jesus.  I Believe in the Leader.  He has blessed me celestially.”  and straight up acted like I was in a weird ass cult and managed to creep him out.

Living there made me very hostile toward religious people for a very long time.

Alabama... idk.... mostly I remember that they banned sex toys and a lot of college football, hell

[miniminisb]

ˢᵒ ʷʰᵃᵗ’ˢ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘˡᵗ ˢᵗᵒʳʸ

okay bUCKLE UP FUCKERS IT’S TIME FOR THE DUMBEST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE. I preface this by saying, I am a dumbass. I am a complete, irrevocable, plain dumbass. Do not do this at home. Do not pass go. Do not collect 200 dollars. Heed my warnings. also technically not a cult but basically a cult you’ll see just sit tight.

It was a nice sunny day in September 2017. The seasons were beginning to turn. I had just gotten out of my Intro to Logic class. I felt good. I thought to myself, “Man. Such a nice day. I think I’ll do my homework outside today. Enjoy the weather before it goes to shit.”

So there I was, barbecue sauce on my titties doing some, i dunno, categorical reasoning? Just, sitting beneath a tree, enjoying the day, when two girls walk up to me. They say they’re trying to start a club on campus, and they wonder if I have some time to talk real quick. I have some time before my next class. I’m pretty much done with this homework. I say sure.

Mistake number one.

They sit down and ask if I have ever read the Bible. My stomach immediately sinks. I don’t necessarily have things against organized religion, but… American Christians make me nervous. They really do. Growing up, you get a lot of people at your door and you get a lot of crazies telling you you’re gonna go to hell. They can pick pick the weak out of a crowd and target them for their schemes.

I am the weak.

So I chuckle nervously. I’m in danger! I say no, not really. Kinda. I grew up in a small town and would go to church with friends sometimes hahahahahahaha. They seem alright, kinda. They pull out their own Bible and start flipping through it for certain passages, giving the schpiel of “oh God loves you, Jesus died for our sins, yada yada” and I’m like, yeah, cool. Whatever.

Then it gets weird. They start talking about the end of the world, Armageddon, the apocalypse, whatever ya wanna call it. They say this time was prophecized in the Bible, snatching on weird passages to claim that North Korea is gonna drop nukes. They say that this will happen where the four corners of the earth meet, and are adamant to say that it’s referring to our area (I go to college at the Four Corners Region in the US of A).

They say how, because it’s gonna happen, it’s more important than ever to save your soul, get baptized, whatever. They ask if I have been baptized. And I say haha no, not yet, like I said I’m not really Christian, hahahah-

Mistake number two.

The girl in charge of the situation nods in a sort of understanding manner. They continue their schpiel, really starting to hit home that saving your soul and accepting the big J is important. They also said jesus was married to the city of jerusalem? For some reason??? Idk man if you’re christian can you explain this to me?

Same girl then goes, out of nowhere, “would you ever consider getting baptized?”

Listen guys. I know I put off big chaotic energy, give no fucks, can’t mess with me persona on here. But in the words of Kim Namjoon, who the hell am i? I am, without a doubt, a spineless bitch who doesn’t know how to stand up for herself when faced with the smallest amount of conflict and no outward reason to refuse people. Y’all, as I write this, I am shaking and my heart is pounding because yes, you can probably see where this is going. And yes, I am that dumb.

I chuckle nervously, fiddle with my hands, and go “haha maybe if my friend would want me to idk” just like, full on passive avoidance shrink-into-yourself of someone who desperately wants this shit to end but really can’t find an out.

And the girl looks me dead in the eyes. “Well, that’s good. But you would have to do it for yourself. Would you ever get baptized for yourself.”

“I mean, maybe? I guess? Hahah I dunno, yeah, maybe.”

MISTAKE NUMBER THREE.

The two bitches perk up. “We can do it now!” bitch what. I have like, maybe 20 minutes until class at this point. I’m shaking. I’m like, man, I just wanted to do my logic homework. And now, I get into fight or flight mode. I can’t miss class. I feel scared. These girls think north korea cares about fucking new mexico and arizona enough to nuke a place which, objectively, has little to no people living there. Like, what, you’re gonna bomb aliens? Whatever.

I really start to say. No. can’t do it. I have class. I really have class, it’s soon, can’t do it. No. And they keep pushing. “It’ll only take five minutes. It’ll be fine. You’ll be okay. Only five minutes.”

Now, what should I have done? I should have picked up my stuff and said “thank you, but no. I need to leave.” I should have said “you women are making me uncomfortable. I said no. Leave me alone. You are crazy.” I should have raised my middle finger to them which, conveniently, has a pentacle ring on it.

Instead, I caved and said fine.

M͏̤̤I̩S̖̙͝T̯̕A̧̗͙K̩͕̺̕E҉̞͙̞̮ ̤̙͕͔N̷̗͙̙ͅU͚͇̯̦͙M̩͙͖B̵̬̝̤̪E̪̺̟͙ͅṞ̼ ̩͉͍͎͎̼͘F̩̦͔̩O̘̭UṞ͉̯͍

The other girl who has remained relatively quiet, jumps up. “Great! I’ll call our minister, he’ll pull up the van!”

The what.

I don’t say anything. I should have. Listen, I don’t know how I was supposed to get baptized in the middle of the day on a Wednesday but fuck, I did not expect to get taken off campus. We have a fucking non denominational chuch on campus. So, who would’ve thunk? Not me!

“The what?”

The girls jump up and seem super excited. I am shaking as I pick up my bag and follow them to the parking lot. Meanwhile I’m screaming silently to myself what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck. You know, like a normal person. So at least I wasn’t completely insane.

“We’re just taking you to our church, don’t worry.” And for some reason, that does put me at ease a lil. Cuz, like, I may be a stinking heathen who’s gone to church so many times that she can count it on one hand, but I do have the belief that nice pretty churches are save havens. So, I do feel a little okay.

I still get into a fucking car tho so there’s that I guess.

The dude pulls up. He is… idk he looked like one of those creepy religious fucks from like a horror movie. Dead behind the eyes. We all pack into the car. I’m trying not to cry, honestly. I’m really trying to keep this light cuz it is pretty funny when you step back but keep in mind I was terrified and I don’t know how to say no.

It is only after we pull away that I have the dawning thought. I’m basically getting kidnapped. They could take me fucking anywhere and no one would know and I wouldn’t be able to do anything to stop it. Three against one.

As we’re leaving my fucking campus I check the clock. I have, like. Five minutes until my next class. I am a dumbass.

The girl shows me like… an apocalypse video??? for some reason??? Like wow thanks bitch but you already told me the world was gonna end but aight.

I’m hardcore like, astral projecting at this point. Full on dissociation. I do not exist on this plane anymore.

We pull into a fucking starbucks parking lot next to some town homes.

“We’re here!” Where’s the church? Where’s the steeple? Bitch I just see modern condos what the HELL is happening. We get out of the car and go up to one of these fucking apartments basically. Fucking Youth Pastor John unlocks the place and.

Guys.

The church was just a fucking townhome. I’m like. Just. Guys the area where the congregation met was a fucking living room with like maybe six chairs and a podium. On the bright side, lovely open floor plan.

They guide me upstairs.

To the bathroom.

They hand me like… a fucking robe and say I can undress and put that on. They give me a moment but even then i’m like FUCK that. Undressing in a strange house? That’s where I draw the line! Nope, no disrobing for me, thanks! I still put on the robe because apparently it’s like, ritually significant?

Got into my new swanky clothes and they come back in. They start filling up a shitty plastic bucket with water in the tub. At this point, i’m just like:

They tell me to kneel in the tub and raise my hands in prayer. I follow orders, trying to ignore the fact that I am in a strange place that is very much not a church, that I am currently wearing weird periwinkle robes, knowing that people are in class right now just. Learning about fucking Mesopetamia or some shit i forget what the class was about.

The Hannah Montana from Hell Squad prays over me as they pour cupfuls of bucket water over my head. My underclothes are now drenched. My hair is wet. My knees hurt because I’m kneeling in a fucking bathtub.

“Congrats! Your soul is saved!” I have to get to class!

They give me a moment to take off the fucking robes and I collect my things. I step out and i’m like “great I’m late for class, take me back!”

“Oh, but you still need to have passover.”

Passover is a Jewish Holiday practiced in mid to late spring. It’s September. Y’all are christian. But I literally cannot leave, so I follow them into the kitchen where they put a veil on me. The other two girls put on veils as well. I’ve fully surpassed crying and reached silent resignation to my fate as the guy prays over some fucking communion wafers and some grape juice. I take the lil bits of food, luckily too since i fucking missed lunch because of them but at least I have some grape juice to fill me up.

“Now, we know that this is not the correct time for passover, but we needed to do it to save your soul. Now, practice Passover every year from now on to make sure you show your dedication to God and make sure your soul is saved.”

They do take me back to campus. I am in soaking short shorts and a red flannel. It is, to say the least, very moist and uncomfortable as I start to stick to the faux leather seats of this mini van.

I’m like “cool great thanks for having me!” as they pull up to my building, and as I try to get out, the quieter girl (who, genuinely, seemed to be fond of me) asked if she could have my number.

HEY YOU KNOW HOW THIS STORY STARTED? WITH ME LACKING THE ABILITY TO SAY NO TO PEOPLE? YOU REMEMBER THAT? HUH!?

But this time, ohhoho, I have a plan. I’ll give her a fake number! That’ll teach her! So I punch in a few random numbers really hastily because I am still in this fucking van and I am twenty five minutes late for a fifty five minute class.

“Cool can we test it real quick to make sure we have the right number?”

And, like a dog with my tail between my legs, I very quietly go “yeah uhm i think i put in the wrong number hang one second” and fixed it to my actual number. Like a goddamn moron.

I sprint out of the van. Walk into my class soaking wet with my head down at my professor is in the middle of a lecture. I find my seat in the back of the classroom on the other side, so everyone has seen me. My friend leans up to me as I sit down, and asks me where I have been. I tell her that I got lost during a hike and fell into a creek.

Now, what is the moral of this story, children? If anyone asks you if you want to get baptized on a Wednesday in the middle of September, simply say

[shawnsorangeglasses]

Love’s Camisado - (bartender!shawn au)

.i’m enjoying the idea of Shawn being a bartender (i guess that’s his second job now idk i dig it) nobody asked for this but  🎶i don’t care🎶 3.3k words

warnings: some strong language, drinking, minor fluff at the end, and a guy who can’t hear “no”

...

Dina was still getting over a breakup that’s had her stuck in this weird state of depression for about a week now. So I called her on Friday and said we were going out on Saturday, deliberately eliminating no as an option. My homework was finished and I was ahead of schedule for once and I figured this is as good a time as any to leave my dorm for once. Fully intending on staying sober for the night, I put on the most casual outfit I could find and start packing supplies.

I almost look like a soccer mom, waiting for Dina to show up at the club doors. I had a drawstring bag full of baby wipes, snacks, water, a spare case of makeup, band-aids, some ibuprofen for her potential hangover, and whatever I normally carry every day. This is a list I’ve made over years of knowing Dina and her nightly habits. The usual pattern is she’ll get drunk off her ass and either I’ll take her home or she’ll go home with whichever guy or girl and I’ll rescue her tomorrow morning.

Our region was starting catch wind of some colder weather so I decide to drive to the bar. I didn’t wear anything more than a pair of leggings, t-shirt, and a denim jacket. She meets me just outside the doors of the Lotus Pool club around 7:00 PM. This is where most college students come on the weekend. My muted outfit bears a striking contrast to Dina’s glittery green cocktail dress. Business is perfectly slow at this time so we get in without a problem. It’s only when the sun goes down that a line starts to form.

Once inside, I immediately scan the room for Shawn, our favorite bartender. He’s also going to college with us but this is where we always come to see him on the weekend. I guess I’d call him a friend, but this is kind of the only place we really interact other than the few times I see him on campus. We went to the same high school but our circles never crossed.

He’s alternating between serving the few regulars and tidying up the behind the bar when we walk in. Dina and I quietly sneak  while his back is turned. “Shawn!,” we both shout and he turns with a start. His face slowly melts into a warm smile when he realizes it’s just us.

“Hi ladies,” he says sheepishly. “You both look lovely. How are you holding up Dina?”

“Better,” Dina says with a sigh. “I didn’t need Tess anyway. I’m finding myself a new squeeze tonight, count on it. Can I have the strongest, fruitiest drink you know how to make? Surprise me.”

“Of course, honey,” He takes a red bottle from the shelf then turns to me. “Are you having anything tonight (Y/N)?”

“No sir, I am driving. But thank you anyways.” Shawn nods and continues to make Dina’s drink. She’s such a lightweight, she’s tipsy within minutes. Soon, people start to roll in and situate themselves at the bar, forming a decent crowd. There aren’t a lot of students out tonight as midterm exams are just around the corner.

“If there’s any way I can help in tonight’s quest for love, please don’t hesitate to ask,” Shawn says before heading off to serve his next patron.

A few hours go by and I’m watching the room carefully from the comfort of my bar stool. Dina’s gone off to mingle so Shawn makes conversation with me whenever he can, sometimes even while he’s mixing.

At one point he asks me, “When are you gonna find yourself a “squeeze,’ (Y/N)?”

“I don’t know. I’m not actively searching for anything but I’m sending every offer away either. The thing is I’m not getting any offers.”

“You know it might help to actually go outside more,” he teases me. “That’s where all the people are.

“Don’t come for me, Mendes. I go out. Sometimes.”

He gives me a side eye while topping off another tray of shots. “Going to and from class doesn’t count.”

Some guy suddenly comes up and sits right next to me, despite the abundance of empty stools and single girls at the bar. “Hey, can I buy you a drink?”

“No thanks, I’m driving home tonight,” I say firmly.

He briefly touches my leg. “Come on, one drink won’t hurt.” I tense up.

“Dude, I told you I’m driving. I’m not having a drink.” I search down the line for Shawn. He’s busy with about three other people’s drinks at the moment but briefly makes eye contact.

“Well can I at least get your name?,” he asks. “I feel like I’ve seen you around campus.”

“(Y/N),” I say carefully, as if my name is made of glass.

“Wow, that’s beautiful name for a beautiful girl,” he says with a toothy grin. He’s cute I guess, but he’s frat boy cute, and that’s suspicious. They have quite the reputation around here. “What are you doing after this?,” he asks, scooting closer.

He’s not even listening to me. “I just told you I’m driving. Home probably.” Something tells me not to include Dina in this conversation. I then remember to check for her. She’s in a booth, seemingly cozied up with what seems like a nice girl.

“What do I have to do to get you to come home with me?”

Before he can lay another weak-ass line on me, Shawn appears. “Hey man, can I get you anything?,” he asks, quite aggressively.

The guy immediately says no and fades away into the crowd. I turn to Shawn, eyes wide and mouth agape. He raises his eyebrows at me in response.

“Did you see that shit?,” I yell over the noise.

“I did. I was trying to get back over here. Do you want me to have him removed?”

“No, don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

Shawn purses his lips at me and leans in closer. “I know ‘fine’ is girls’ code word for ‘not fine,’ (Y/N).”

“I mean it this time. He’s not worth the trouble, honest.”

He checks his watch, “Well my break starts now. I think I’ll sit and talk with you. Maybe deflect some more creeps.”

Shawn makes his way around the bar, a tiny carton of peanuts in hand, and sits next to me. He smells great as usual. Like soap and high-end cologne. We somehow end up back on the topic of my love life again. This time I switch it up on him.

“You know you’re always telling me how I need a date. What about you?,” I ask.

“I’m busy here and at school,” he squeaks defensively. “I don’t have the time or social skills to get a girlfriend right now.”

“Maybe in theory. All I’m saying is it shouldn’t be that hard for someone who looks the way you look.”

“Ever think that it’s maybe because I already have my eye on someone?”

“Really?” He nods, but it’s a solemn one. “Why so sad? Have you talked to her?”

He slips another peanut past his lips. “Yeah, but she doesn’t feel that way towards me.” The way he tilts his head allows a few errant curls to fall into his eye.

“Who wouldn’t feel that way about you Shawn? Look at you!” He actually has the audacity to laugh while shaking his head. There’s no doubt he’s a dreamboat with his brains and impossible good looks. All the girls on campus fawn over him.

“By that logic, it makes no sense for you to be single either,” he shoots back. I try to think of something witty to say before he can see me blush but I can’t and just go back to shelling my peanut.

“Exactly! It takes a little more than being hot, doesn’t it?”

“Whatever, Mendes. You always say embarrassing things like that. Whoever this girl is, I say you should just go ahead and shoot your shot.”

“Yeah right. I think I’d rather be shot.” I choke on my peanut.

“I don’t get it. What do you have to lose?”

That familiar grin extends across his face, amused at my lack of understanding. He simply says, “Probably everything.”

Shawn’s break ends and he’s back behind the bar again. I continue to talk to him though after most of the people there reach their legal limit and he has to slow down consumption. We spend most of the night people-watching together.

Just as I thought, that girl Dina was previously curled up with ended up becoming her impromptu date for the night. She meets me at the bar again around 11:20 and introduces her to me. I swear at first glance they seem perfect for each other, unlike when she was with Tess.

“This is Cristina,” she says with a little slur on her speech. “Rhymes with Dina. She also did not consume the alcohols tonight, so she will be driving me home.”

“I was here on an assignment,” said a clearly not drunk Cristina. She held up a tiny sketchbook. “Had to draw a nightclub scenery.” She’s a very gorgeous girl, with a periwinkle colored pixie cut and big brown eyes. Definitely Dina’s type.

“Oh okay, well it’s nice to meet you Cristina,” I say with a shake of her hand. “I think you’ll like Dina. She’s just as charismatic when she’s sober.” I turn back to Dina. “Hey, look at me. Call me when you get home. Okay?” She holds two thumbs up in front of her goofy grin.

I walk them out and say goodnight, reminding Dina to call me for a second time and thanking Cristina again for driving her. I make my way back inside and across the now thinning dance floor and back over to the bar. Shawn’s polishing glasses when I meet his eyes with mine again.

“I think Dina’s taken care of for the night,” I say as I sit back down.

“I never saw that guy leave,” he says. His serious tone catches my attention. “Are you going to be okay getting home?”

“Um,” I look around the bar. Frat boy isn’t anywhere in sight. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Well listen, my shift is over in like ten minutes. Can you wait until then so I can walk you to your car?”

“Sure. Let me just freshen up real quick.”

I make beeline for the women’s restroom and find myself strangely on edge the moment I enter. Empty beer bottles and cans litter the countertop. I take a quick look at myself in the mirror, making a few adjustments to my hair. Then the stall behind me opens up. That guy from earlier steps out, clearly sloshed with the most disgusting smirk on his face. “Thought I’d find you in here sooner or later, beautiful.”

He gets close enough to grab my wrist, definitely bruising it and tries to kiss me. I instantly snatch one of the beer bottles left in here and smash it against the countertop, quickly making a weapon. He lets me go, leaving my wrist red and sore. I’m panting like a wild animal.

Shawn comes barreling in seconds later I assume because he heard the glass breaking. He looks more than stressed. “Are you okay?,” he huffs.

“Never been better,” I say, never taking my eyes off frat boy.

The worry in his eyes swiftly turns to rage when he recognizes the guy from earlier. “Dude, just fucking leave,” says Shawn. “Don’t bother coming back here either.”

The guy slinks past him and out the door. I drop the bottle, feeling my body start to shake all over. My hands grip onto the sink for, desperate for stability. Shawn rushes to my side and wraps his arms around me. I’ve never hugged him before but this better than I imagined it. “I’m definitely taking you home. There’s no way in hell.”

“S-sorry about the mess,” I stammer. My chest feels unbelievably tight and I have to push him back just to breathe. His hands never leave my skin.

“Don’t worry I can get it cleaned up tomorrow on my morning shift. Let’s just get back to the dorms.”

Shawn is quick to get me back to my dorm room. The whole car ride there is short and quiet. Never having been in Shawn’s jeep, I take this chance to learn a little more about him. It’s cluttered, but clean. I can see some clothes is the back seat and a few schoolbooks on the floor. As we get closer to my building I fish my key card out of my pocket. He parks as close as possible to the door and he’s about to open his door before he realizes I still haven’t moved yet.

“You okay?,” he asks. That’s when the tears start to fall and I have to turn away so he can’t see. Then one loud sniffle makes it very obvious that I’m crying.

Shawn reaches over the console, embracing me again. I feel stupid for crying on his white sweater like this. “It’s okay,” he mumbles into my hair. “I wish I’d caught him go in there. I should’ve been paying better attention.”

“No you’re always paying attention. It’s not your fault.” I pull away first, feeling more than embarrassed now. “I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t say that. You protected yourself. Rather impressively, might I add. We can go report him tonight if you want.”

“I don’t even know his name. No, I just want to go to sleep.” I open my door and step out. Shawn follows closely behind as I approach the dormitory entrance. We take a beat, standing out there in the cool evening air. I check the time on my phone and it’s almost curfew. My hands are still shaking. Shawn casts his 6′3″ shadow over me and takes my cold hands into his large warm ones. His thumb traces circles over the bruise that was now forming on my wrist. I slowly started to feel okay again. More than okay actually.

“S’okay, relax. You’re safe now. God, I just-- are you going to be okay staying here tonight? Maybe you should go home.” He knows that my roommates have all gone home this weekend.

“No. My mom will just have questions and I don’t want her to worry or storm the campus tomorrow.”

Shawn’s about to scan his keycard when I stop him again. “Actually, could you stay with me? Just for tonight.”

His eyes widen a little, “You sure?”

I swallow hard. “I feel like he might know where I live.”

We take the elevator up to my floor in comfortable silence. When we reach my room I get a text from Dina.

[ im in love gn ]

I smile and show Shawn. “At least one of us is having a good night,” I murmur then unlock my door.

I head directly towards my room, kicking my shoes off, slipping out of my jacket, and flopping face down on my bed. I hear the soft thud of Shawn’s boots stop at my doorway. “I guess I’ll take the couch. You wouldn’t happen to have an extra pillow would you?”

“No,” I say patting the space next to me. “Just come lay right here.”

He moves with reluctance and sits down like the the bed will crumble underneath him. Then he lays down with even more caution, scooting closer until our noses are a only few inches apart. His legs still hang off the bed.

I roll onto my side. “You still smell like peanuts,” I whisper.

“So do you,” he whispers back.

My eyes wander around Shawn’s face this being the first time I’ve actually seen him this close. He has the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a boy before. That divot in his right cheek is more prominent in this proximity. I gently brush at it with my thumb.

“Shaving accident when I was little,” his mumbles.

“Of course.”

“Can I tell you something,” he blurts. I pull my hand away from his face. “You remember when I was telling you about that girl I liked?”

“You don’t have to tell me who she is.”

“I do if that girl is you.”

I wait for him to say “nah I’m kidding,” like he always does when he says something sarcastic or even remotely flirty. When he doesn’t, I prop myself up on my elbows. “Are you being serious right now?”

“A hundred percent, being serious right now.”

I’m honestly paralyzed. No one’s ever told me that before and meant it. My mind goes completely blank.

“Don’t just stare at me like that (Y/N),” he says, snapping me out of it. “You gotta say something.”

“What do I even say? I never came to terms with how I feel about you. I-- I gave up on that a long time ago.”

Shawn sits up so we’re at eye level again. Even while laying down, he’s still so much larger than me. I feel small in my own bed. His eyes catch a glint of the moonlight coming in through my window as they wander around my face only to settle on my mouth. “Okay, well, how do you feel right now?”

“Right now?” I allow his lips to steal my attention for a second. “Right now I feel like kissing you.”

“Are you waiting for an invitation?”

“Are you?”

He leans in, beckoning me to come closer. I meet him halfway, touching my nose to his. Shawn’s lips brush onto mine and it feels like an electric current is buzzing through my entire body, melting me from the inside out. I close my eyes just as his warm mouth gently presses into mine. Every inch of my skin heightens in sensitivity making me jump a little when Shawn puts his fingers on my neck. He’s slow and soft at first, but gradually gets hungrier as we go on, moving his hand to my waist to pull me closer until I’m practically on top of him. His thigh breaks the space between mine causing my hips to accidentally buck a little. The smile he makes against my lips lets me know he noticed.

It was like a movie, probably better, and I can feel myself slowly start to lose control. His tongue pushes past my lips and massages the threshold of my mouth tentatively. I dig my nails into the fabric of his shirt on his sides. This must do something to make him moan and that sound alone nearly pushes me over the edge. I pull away, hot and panicked. My arms are so numb I struggle to even sit up at first.

“A-are you okay,” Shawn asks. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, everything’s fine.” I cover my face. “I just felt a little out of control.”

Shawn inhales sharply and runs his hand through his hair then settles it on the back of his neck. “Should I go?”

“No! I mean no, I’m okay. Maybe we should stop this though, just for now.”

He bites his lip again but something feels different about watching him do it this time as opposed to the many other times I’ve seen him bite his lip. Maybe it’s how unkempt his hair looks now. I nibble at the inside of my cheek to bring myself back down to Earth.

“Well you asked me to keep you company for tonight. I still intend on doing that if you want me to.”

I do want him to stay, but not just for the original reasons anymore. We lay back down on my bed again, comfortably uncomfortable in this new atmosphere between us. The expression on his face is so tranquil. He looks younger in this light. I can feel blood rushing to my cheeks the longer I look at him. I switch my attention to my duvet. Shawn’s arms reach out to pull me into his chest, engulfing me in muscles and the scent of high-end cologne. I’ve never slept so soundly before.

[hahanoiwont]

Also please explain abt the spn thing

alright my dude, buckle up buckaroos. Here’s how Supernatural (yes, that Supernatural) led me to the college of my dreams and a haunting question that I can never even attempt to answer.

So. A while ago, I was just beginning to turn my life around after like 3 years at rock bottom. At the same time, I started getting into Supernatural. It was about brothers, it had supernatural (ha. haha) themes, it wasn’t too involved episode to episode, I’d been meaning to check it out for years--it was perfect. It was everything I was looking for.

So, of course, I got hardcore into it. I read fic, I wrote fic. I read some cringey, cringey stuff. I loved the character Sam. He didn’t fit into his family, he was always cast in feminine roles despite being a man, he was one of the only characters that didn’t fall so much into violent masculinity, he had consistent possession/agency themes; I loved him. And idk if you’re familiar with the fandom, but there’s Discourse(TM) about that. He’s not the most popular major character.

So. When I ran out of fic that really explored what I wanted to see, what do I do? I go to the authors I like and I check their other works. And I see that link. the link that I have been avoiding for so long, but which haunts and tempts me. more work from authors you already like, it says. don’t you like this summary? it’s basically the same thing. But new. something you haven’t read before. don’t you want that?

You know. This link:

I click the link.

I justify it to myself. They signed up to be in the public spotlight, I say. It’s not like I’m gonna be weird about it. I don’t think they’re like this at all, these are just characters. It’s fine, I say. But the cold, hard fact is: I click the link.

And I do find a really, really good fic. I haven’t read it before. It’s a new, refreshing take on a college au, which I rarely like, but this one is great. It really gets what it’s like to be a young queer man who’s struggling to accept himself, to decide who to come out to, who’s combating compulsive heterosexuality and trying to find his way in the world all at once. It makes me feel understood, accepted, when I’m just beginning to come to terms with myself. And it’s based on this real college, say the author’s notes. With real locations all listed.

Oh, but it gets better.

The author’s notes also say that whoever wrote this wonder fic works at the college in question. That’s their real, adult job. And they love it. They couldn’t be more impressed with the campus, the students, the culture...the love they have for this place pours out of every word and detail.

Cool, I say to myself. I wonder what that college is.

I was a young fool who did not see where this was clearly headed.

I leave my comment, I bookmark the fic for my bad day folder. I move on.

But college admissions is around the corner, and if there’s one thing I know about me, it’s that being sat down by An Adult(TM) to do something is a surefire way to get me to do something else. So when I’m supposed to be looking up real colleges that I’ll really go to, I look up this fanfiction college, and I tell my advisor that I’m thinking of applying there. I get a little giggle about it, but no harm done, right?

But then, when applications time comes, I need to apply to one more college. And I need to choose quick if I want financial aid with the apps. Like, 5 minutes quick. So, what the hell, right? I apply to fanfiction college. It does actually have a lot of things I want: small classes, undergrad research, pretty good academic rep, far away from home. I’m not gonna go there, but it looks nice on my ‘other schools I’ve applied to’ forms.

Joke’s on me, though. through a series of events, I am given the ability to visit 2 colleges on my list. And my parents say, hey, that one in Texas looks pretty nice. Why not that one?

It is not a suggestion.

Oh, no, I think.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” I say. So I visit two colleges. One in Florida (lizards on campus are a strong selling point, transphobic relatives very near by, Florida, and the fact that everyone there is fucking creepy are stronger dissuasions)

And then the fanfiction school. I visit when it’s raining. It’s unbearably hot. I get lost twice and embarrass myself in front of the cab driver and the admissions guy on two separate occasions. But it’s still a really nice visit. It’s a really nice school. I can see myself going here, I think. It has everything I want.

Oh, no.

I step back and review my options (the one I read about in fanfiction? seriously???), but it’s too late. I already visited. There are cats on campus that you can just visit whenever you want. The professors are friendly and available to students. The campus is really nice. I’m a little in love.

But somewhere. Somewhere on campus, someone wrote

and that’s why I’m here

I need to live with that. If I go here, that is a part of my life that I cannot escape.

But it’s too late to save me now. Also, the other school was fucking creepy, I’m not going there. So I apply to the fanfiction college.

Since then, I’ve had an incredible time. The education can’t be beat, I think my professors are great, campus is beautiful, it never gets too cold. It’s a dream world for me. But like Pandora and her box, there is one thing I must never, ever find out.

I can never know who wrote that god damned fanfiction.

[steves-on-a-plane]

Web of Secrets

Words: 1307 Pairing:Peter Parker x Male!Reader Request:  “hi! could i request a spiderman × male reader where they are college roomates and the reader starts coming home with bruises as well but they're not from saving the world. he is getting bullied for being gay and peter doesn't know anything until he's had enough of seeing his friend in pain and the reader confesses to being gay and liking him IDK IDK BUT SOMETHING FLUFF Y LIKE THAT PLS THANK.” -Anon

Peter Parker was your best friend. He had been since your first minutes of college. You had been assigned as roommates together in college. At first it was nerve racking, knowing you were going to be living with a guy you didn’t know, who didn’t know anything about you. Sure, it was the mid twenty-tens and most people recognized by now that being gay was not a “lifestyle choice.” But being friends with someone who is gay is completely different than rooming with someone you don’t know, who is also gay.

Peter was already in the room when you go there. He was unpacking from several expensive looking cases. You felt ridiculous with your small, single suitcase. You expected to greet each other with a nod, and then go about your own business. Peter wouldn’t have any of that. He greeted you with a warm, friendly smile.

“Oh hey! I’m Peter. You must be [Y/N].” He extended a hand out to you. You took his hand and gave it a gentle shake. “Hey, man listen. I know I have a ton of stuff here. Way more than one person should. But it’s my, uh, my uncle. He has a lot of money and so he bought me all this weird luggage and a bunch of stuff I don’t need. So, like if there is anything you want to use…”

“Yeah, thanks. I, don’t usually need much. Just my camera and my computer. But I’ll keep that in mind.” You said.

“You have a camera? I just thought everyone used their iphone these days.” Peter dug into one of his suitcases and pulled out a camera case of his own.

“Well not everyone’s a photography major.” You smirked, leaning against your college issued loft bed. “Are you…?”

“No, no.” Peter sighed. “It’s just a hobby of mine. Computer Science is my thing. But it’s always nice to meet a fellow shutterbug.”

From then on you and Peter did almost everything together. You sat through the first week of Freshman orientations together. Whenever possible you had lunches and dinners together. Your schedules rarely allowed for a breakfast that wasn’t coffee and a cold pastry, but even sometimes those were done on-the-go together. Somehow, despite sharing nearly every out of class minute together, the fact that you were attracted to men never came up in the first year of knowing each other. That Peter was always too busy to have a girlfriend or boyfriend of his own had probably contributed a lot to this.

Eventually you grew to have feelings for Peter. Feelings that went well beyond “just friends”, but Pete was one of the only people you knew at school. And he was always so much nicer to you than you deserved. It wasn’t worth jeopardizing your friendship on a one-sided romance. Besides, how cliché was it for you, a gay guy, to fall for your roommate?  So you tried to occupy your time with a few non-Peter related activities.

You joined the Photography Club the fourth month of school. Freshman year it had been exactly what a club should be. A place for likeminded individuals to get together to share their work. But at the end of the year, the executive board graduated and they were replaced with new students who didn’t promote the same ideals. The new E-Board didn’t live up to the legacy of their predecessors. While other groups and organizations were becoming more progressive on campus, it seemed the “leaders” of the Photography Club were falling behind a few decades.

The first time you came into your dorm room with bruises, you told peter it was from working out at the gym. He laughed and said he didn’t know you ever went to the gym. The second time, you lied, you said that you were fiddling with the settings on your camera and tripped on a statue on the quad. By the fifth or sixth time you were begining to think that Peter just assumed you were slightly unhinged and nothing more. And you let him think so, because admitting the truth to him was so, so much worse.

It was embarrassing that you had gone so long without telling your best friend who you really were. Even worse that the people who did know about you…seriously you were nineteen years old. How were you still letting yourself be bullied? No. You couldn’t ever let Peter find out what happened. It was your own burden to bare.

“[Y/N], I need to talk to you about something.” Peter said to you one day. He leaned against the door of your room so that you couldn’t leave.

“Jeez Pete, seems serious. I promise I’ll wash my shoes with the next load of laundry so they don’t keep stinking up the place, alright?”

“What? No this isn’t about your shoes.” Peter frowned and suddenly his voice was very serious. “Look, I’ve been trying not to say anything about this but you’re my best friend and I can’t keep letting this happen to you. Where do the cuts and bruises come from, [Y/n]?”

“They’re all from different things, dude.” You shrugged as you tried to remember your layers of lies. One look in Peter’s eyes told you the jig was up. “Ok, fine.” You sighed. “I’ll tell you everything, but you’re gonna have to sit down, because it’s a lot.” You inhaled a deep breath and stared at the white cinderblock wall.

“I’m gay.” You didn’t elaborate at first. You stared at the wall and waited for him to react. Peter reacted. He came and sat at his desk.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He raked a hand through his hair. “I mean all this time…you could have said…”

“I know.” You breathed. “I know. And I should have said something the first day. But you were so nice. I didn’t want you to think of me differently. Then after that there was just, never a right time.” You expected Peter to be angry. You expected him to kick you out, but he didn’t.

“Okay.” He nodded. “We all have our secrets. We never really talked about our sexuality before. I guess you’re right. It never really came up. For your record, I consider myself bisexual. Even though I’ve only ever been with girls.” You weren’t expecting this reaction from him at all. Yet you somehow knew he was being genuine with you. “Tell me about the bruises. Is someone else doing this to you because they know you’re gay?”

“Peter, what good would telling you do? It’s not like you’re going to go out and kick their asses.” You snorted.

“Actually, I am. That’s…” Peter jumped up from his seat and started riffling through his closet. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do. Give me a name, [Y/N]. All I need is a name.”

“No offense Pete, but you’re a scrawny dude and if I can’t take them, there’s no way you could.”

“like I said, [Y/N], everyone had secrets.” He found what he was looking for and pulled it from the closet. He held up a flabby red and blue get up. “My secret, is that I’m Spiderman.”

“Okay, now you’re just making fun of me.” You sighed. “You know, I really put myself out there telling you this. And I actually thought I was going to confess that I had feelings for you, but I…”

“[Y/N], you don’t understand. I’m not making fun of you. I can prove it.” Peter dug around in another drawer and strapped something to his arm. He bent his hand and a web shot across the room and attached to his laptop.

“Holy shit!” You gasped. “You’re Spiderman.”

“I did try to tell you.” He shrugged. “So you give me the names and I’ll make sure they never hurt you again.”

[itsoundsbetterinmyhead]

Falling Slowly

CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS MAN?!?! He is not dead but I just want to talk to you about him.

He is one of a handful of people that have been through a lot with me. His name is Febi Ary R., he hates it when people call him Febi for quite some time because it’s “a girl’s name” but then he just giving up correcting people because who wants to call him Ary anyway.

I met him in my first year of junior high. We were in one orientation group and the first thing he said to me was “oh my God that dude is annoying, isn’t he?” I’m not sure he even realize saying that or even remember it, but from that moment I knew I should be friend with this guy.

Can we all just agree that junior high school is the worst year for everybody??? I’m one of those underdog kid and he basically the cool kids. So it’s obvious that we will never talk ever. However, that is not the case.

2 years after that, in out final year, we went to this academic course institution and turns out, we were in the same class along side three girls. The minute I heard that he will be in my class I was like “Holy shit that dude!!! He is so cool I’m sure it’s gonna be awk.” But apparently he was (and is) nice! Little did he know that I’m obsessed with him so whenever he talked to me I feel so happy. yeah I’m dork like that.

We bound really close. We are so close that Febi’s friends were jealous with me and one of the girls in out course class, Dita.

Oh the thing about us, we always have another friends. He had his own group and so did I. Back in the final year of junior high we were not even greet each other in school hallway. We talked about it, and we agree it’s just too weird to do the greeting stuffs. But in high school we occasionally said hi to each other and in college we basically know each other friends so that’s good.

I don't know if you’ve picked up on this but I could be quite melodramatic. And me 7 years ago is... A bitch. Seriously, if you wrong me even just a little I’ll tweet about how jerky you are and I’ll tell the world how awful you are. For real, I’d punch 7 years ago me if I could because my dear God he is so fucking dumb. And despite those things, Febi still choose me as one of his closest friend. And have I told you that Febi is that type of guy who is cool, has a deep hobby of motorcycle, and no drama? And look at me, and then look at him, and then me again. It’s a miracle that he choose to stick with me and patiently stand by side although I could be quite a b.

Don’t get me wrong, our friendship also has its on and off moment. There was a time when I thought “this is it, our friendship just dried out.” But then, recently I just realize that he might be the best thing that ever happen in my life.

Wait pause, if you have read my previous post you’ll know how... bad I am at choosing companions. So right now I try to put every friendships into low maintenance. I won’t force anyone into anything but I won’t let go either, get it? Yes. Okay continue.

Febi had his thesis defense last week, September 8. We come to each other thesis defenses (by we I mean me, Dita, and Febi) and of course I came to his. I asked him if I could sit-in in his defense room because you see, he is my role model when I was 14 (sort of) and I want to see how good he is and how good I am to be able to graduate first. So I had to, right?! To my surprise once he was finished he said to me “I’m so nervous, and I only look at you and Dira (his girlfriend) to calm me down a bit and completely forget the existence of my other friends there” and I was like???? Am I your safe place kinda??? Because he did sit-in in my defense and boy let me tell you, I was wrecked. And yes, throughout my presentation my eye direction only to him and Adam (told ya he is in all my chapter of college life) to keep me going. And he embrace me, the thing that he never rarely done. I mean, oh my God!! I’m ded.

I don’t know man I mean I overlook him so much, he accept my worst, cherish my success, help me without hesitant, and hate the people who wrong me. But I never put him as my number one guy. And I feel so dumb about that.

Did you know, he scold me for hurting my ex-girlfriend feeling 7 years ago just like a big brother to his lil brother. But never hate me for being so stubborn to not to listen to him. Ironically, he is the last child in his family and I’m the first born.

Did you know, I had my first birthday surprise 7 years ago. It began with him saying my jacket is so cool that he want to borrow it (to save the jacket from whats to come he said) and I’m so proud because I do think that jacket is cool and then the rest of our friends pour eggs, flour, and water to my head. Damn, first birthday surprise! And damn you for manipulating me! But it’s all good I had my revenge a month later.

Did you know, 6 years ago he called me and said “you are my best friend, right?” in the middle of the traffic, I thought he was stopped by the police or something but turns out he just want to let me know that he finally in relationship with his girlfriend.

Did you know, 5 years ago I had this melodrama/depression episode and he said “You know I am here if you ever need me” and I almost cry. For a guy who hates drama you sure have potential to be in Grey’s Anatomy episode.

Did you know, 4 years ago my strict mom, who believe that 7 p.m. is past curfew, let me had dinner with him and be home at about 10 p.m.

Did you know, 4 years ago we had our first coffee, just the two of us spending time like brothers in my once-favorite coffee shop in town? And I still hate that coffee shop for renovated and lose its previous homey concept thus force me to lose the memory of it.

Did you know, about 2 years ago I had a problem with my motorcycle in a place with high crime rate (too dramatic? Maybe) and once I call him for help to solve the problem instead he insist to pick me up.

Did you know, last year we talked for more than an hour because he had a problem. We rarely called let alone talked for an hour.

Did you know, in my thesis defense day my parents went to Saudi Arabia to did Umroh and I ask his favor to take me to the campus. He immediately said yes and arrived 30 minutes early to make sure I won’t be panicked?

He never took me for granted. He always value me as a human being. He never once tried to pick up a fight with me although I always bitter, bossy, petty to him, and treat him like a shit! I mean, what did I do to deserve him really.

There is a song, when we had our coffee that is so soothing. I tracked the song and it titled Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova. And I know it’s a small thing but idk I always linger to it.

My God, He is a brother that I wish I had, he is my ride-or-die, he helps me built my character to who I am now. His world and mine is so different but somehow, we become friends. And you know what the best part is? Maybe he only once called me his best friend (as far as I know) but my feeling to him is not one handed. Although I realize it too little too long. I love this guy and I hope that he always blessed by good things in life.

((I KNOW THIS POST IS CRINGY BUT WHATEVER))

[yorkulife]

Yes my boyfriend will go to UofT downtown. We’re staying in res because we’re not from Toronto so I’m worried about privacy… We’ll have roommates Also he’s doing computer science, at UofT so I think the workload will be crazy. He got accepted to York too but decided to go to UofT even though he’ll probably have harder classes there :/ I’m just worried, I heard all these things from my family and older friends that usually when you go to college your high school relationship ends unless you’re both going to same college or still living at home maybe. We’re in the same city but looking at the TTC buses and subway, it still takes 50 minutes to get to each other and back, we won’t have privacy in our rooms unless we coordinate with our roommates but I barely know mine and Idk if it would be weird to ask “oh btw can you be somewhere else one night a week so my bf can come over?” :/ I thought about studying together but we’re obviously not gonna take the same courses, he’s in computer science and I’m in psychology. I’m taking mostly gen eds this year and a psych course but almost all his classes are comp sci (UofT didn’t give him a choice, he had a bunch of prereqs to take) Then there’s the competition between York and UofT, mostly UofT students criticizing York “if you can hold a fork you can go to York” I guess it’s sort of true but York is still a good university and to be honest I decided to go there because it’s a good program but not too hard and the social life seems way better than UofT. Plus I’ll need to get a masters degree in psychology so I need good grades which is obviously easier to achieve at York than UofT. But I feel like a lot of UofT students look down on York people, especially when it comes to dating them because they go to an “inferior university”. My bf won’t care but his friends will and it’s just gonna be awkward, and I don’t know how it will affect our relationship so there are multiple factors (some distance, workload at UofT, UofT versus York) I didn’t get into UofT and apparently they don’t take transfer students so I couldn’t transfer there even if I wanted to risk my grades

I’m sorry it’s more of a rant than a question. I haven’t seen many questions about people asking about relationships especially in first year. Did any of you go through something similar (were in a relationship in grade 12 and went to different colleges)? Did you end it? Did you try to stay together and how did that work? Any positive experiences, because all I’ve heard from family and friends has been pretty negative… Like the odds of staying together for more than a semester are low :(

Hi anon, 

Tbh this whole rivalry or looking down on people for going to a specific university is first year/high school type of behaviour and mentality, any upper year or mature students I’ve met at any university never talk like that. I’ve had friends who’ve gone to UofT, Ryerson, UOIT, Waterloo, McMaster, and York, yet we all have the same amount of respect for each other. Just because you go to a university like UofT does not mean you’re better or smarter than anyone else, I’ve met plenty of smart people at York and they can match anyone going to any other university. 

It’s true that a lot of relationships do fizzle out when you make the transition from high school to university, but I think it’s more to do with the fact that people change. University is an experience that forces you to grow and look at life from different perspectives, you’re exposed to different types of people from different backgrounds and have varying opinions, it really opens your mind to other things in life. The type of students who go to York are much more liberal minded then some students who may go to UofT, even the atmosphere is completely different from my pov, however this doesn’t necessarily mean your relationship will dissolve because of it. If your bf doesn’t care what others think then why are you thinking so much into it? Aren’t you being your own worst enemy in this scenario? 

If you and your bf truly want to be together you will take out time for each other, even if it means commuting to a specific destination. So what if you’re in two different programs, why should that stop you from having study dates or spending time together? I personally believe that if you want a relationship to work, even a friendship, you will take the initiative to make it happen. If you make excuses then you will just be met with disappointments. You need to have a conversation with your bf and figure out how you will both manage your time and how to work around your schedule. 

Okay then get an Airbnb if that alone time is important to you. I mean you’re coming up with reason after reason as to why things might fail when you haven’t even reached the point of trying yet. 

York is not an easy university unfortunately, we have to debunk this myth every year to new students who think that, and neither are you in an easy program (I used to be a Psychology major). The masters program in Psychology is pretty competitive at York, you have to get straight A’s to even be considered as they only have 40 spots in their post-grad program, so you’ll have to work hard to get there. I agree, York is a good university even if some people are extremely biased against it, and you shouldn’t regret your decision, you chose the perfect place to study Psych.

Whether your relationship works out or not will be entirely dependent on you and your bf, people’s relationship don’t work out after high school because they grow out of the immature phase and become mature adults who have different priorities in life. If you and your partner can work through things as you grow I don’t see any reason as to why it should end. I have a friend who’s been with her bf since high school, they both went to different universities for both undergrad and post-grad, now they’re getting married - they’ve been through everything together and made it work even when she wasn’t living in Toronto. So, that in itself is a testaments of their efforts. I know plenty of people who make it work because both partners have different career goals, but they respect that and make time for each other whenever they can, while understanding that it’s important for the other to choose a different path. I hope that offers some consolation.

Feel free to send us updates or rants if you still want to talk and hear our perspectives. : )

- H

___________

Disclaimer: I am very blunt and nowhere as nice as H is. I’m still a nice person and still care about your issues but ... I’m blunt as heck.

Lady, you gotta chill. Yea hs relationships don’t usually last past grade 12 because of a multitude of factors:

y’all grow and change, for better or for worse

y’all meet new people on campus, off campus, etc. 

y’all find new interests and they may not align with each other’s 

y’all realize that y’all in a relationship because of proximity (i.e. y’all live close and there weren’t better choices around), and not via actual passion

My advice is to try your best and ride it out, and if it ends up being meh, at least y’all tried. No regrets. 

Canadian employers look at what each school’s trump card is. So yea, York is a liberal arts school (known for education, Schulich’s business, kin, and some political stuff), and U of T is more of a science-based school. It’s totally cool that your dude chose U of T for comp sci… it’s a type of science. I trust that you chose York not because of easy grades (there’s no “easy” courses… if you like it, it becomes easy. A course is hard if it’s not something you’re interested in), but that you chose it because York is known for psych. 

The rivalry between universities is only remotely significant for people in uni, but after you graduate, everyone understands that each school has its own specialty. Similarly, it’d be silly to go to UWO to be a math major or OCADU for English. If his friends are being immature… well, do you even want to be their friend and be associated with them? 

University years are years where you’ll make the most important choices in your personal and professional life. Split with people who are babies, and grow with those who respect you. That’s all I gotta say.

Peace out.

- TC

[feminizm-by-zo]

When Your B.S. Feels Like BS...

Homework is all done, tests are done, no more lectures, what do I do… Do i regret anything? Here’s your simple answer, no. I do not resent my college experience. I actively try to live with the choices I make and the paths I choose to take along the way. Overall, despite inevitable bumps in the road that is college and my young adult years 18-21, I had a wonderful time. I made lifelong friends, joined clubs, found my voice, learned about who I am and learned about things in class (because school…) There are so many amazing parts of college and there are a great number of awesome things about being all done with it but something just doesn’t feel right.

I’m having a hard time coming up with the right word to explain my experience, but in my LONG (lol just kidding) 3 months since graduation I have struggled with some things that I feel college failed to not only prepare me for, but even mention..

This isn’t organized because I did my college homework and got the degree already so I’m freeeeeee BUT, here’s some genuine (please do better than me at life) advice and just stuff for your brain:

1. GO to the career center starting from freshmen year–> brainstorm ways to make your resume not just be great but STAND OUT, complete at least TWO internships (different cities and roles is ideal), talk about your future OPTIONS (grad school, work, parent, military, etc.)

2. Do NOT let any one or group of people pressure you into a future “plan” that your heart isn’t fully committed to–> I had the most wonderful professors that I trusted and admired but they never discussed options about my future OTHER THAN graduate school and for that matter it HAD TO BE right away and it HAD TO BE a PhD program. Not until I left did I realize, uh do I want to do this? and in fact I felt inferior for considering a masters program or no program at all (COME ON, all of those options are great ones)

3. I saw this today and I loved it, “sleep more than you study, study more than you party, and party as much as you can” –> please make your silly mistakes in college because there are so many people to catch you when you fall and/or get drunk and THEN fall. Take risks now, please. I didn’t and I’m still working on how to truly LIVE, but college would have been the time

4. Go outside your damn campus –> I don’t care what city or town your school is in, literally go outside of your school (buddy system…) My school wasn’t in a great area but one of my fondest memories was volunteering with such wonderful women outside of my campus. Plus, even if your campus food is good (???? where do you go), try out some restaurants yum yum

5. Make a NEW friend –> nah girl, I’m not talking about a mutual friend that you see and hang out with through association with someone else, I’m talking go big and talk to someone in class or literally walk up to someone and say be my friend. Not everyone is as inclined or comfortable being awkward as I am but if they’re weird about it they aren’t worth your time

6. Join a club you know nothing about –> for the love of G-d go learn something new in college. I almost could have tried to thought about (lol) joined the rowing team. My excuse was that they wake up early but to hell with that because those guys were awesome and I would have had a great time learning something new!

7. Take that nap –> Okay a lot of people would disagree with me here because “you never remember the nights you went to sleep” but trust me, sometimes waking up from a mid day coma can cure the oncoming college plague going around or will make you feel a bit better about the 249745 assignments you have due tomorrow (i do NOT miss that). Do it, take care of yourself

8. Make pals with your professors –> well duh, keep the professional-ness a thing but they are such cool actual PEOPLE. they don’t spend their WHOLE lives talking at you. They have pets, and hobbies and they know a lot of really cool stuff. Find a professor you heard about being cool or one that you know specializes in some sweet stuff and make an appointment with them. I met one of my mentors by literally emailing her and saying “hi i dont know you can i talk to you” (again with the awkwardness)

9. Erase that intimidation of “higher ups” thing you have in your noggin –> I became close with the president of my school through just making myself known in small, weird ways. Emailing him to ask his opinion on something, asking him to attend club events, literally stopping him to tell him something I want to see happen on campus. Those dudes and dudets “upstairs” are there to help you so make them dooo itt.

10. Just because you are qualified for a job or praised for your skills in one city/town/place does NOT mean it will be the same elsewhere –> here comes the tough love… I am definitely feeling like a pile of poo here wandering around DC with my resume because everyone wants the same thing, everyone is qualified, and everyone FOR SOME DAMN REASON has like 24 olympic gold medals BEFORE AN ENTRY LEVEL JOB. don’t give up, that’s my point.

11. Yes your mom is right that you’re special but I’m sorry, you are not one of a kind –> More tough love because I suck… okay so I am a recent college graduate in D.C., a feminist, liberal, jewish woman, “passionate”, “hard working”, “detail oriented” HAHAHAHA so is everyone else. Please please spend time in college finding a passion or niche that makes you at least .06% different than the masses because I blend right in and… hire me.

12. I guess I knew this but I didn’t realllllly know this, THE GYM AND THE HEALTHY FOOD IS FREE IN COLLEGE do it, eat it, idk beeee it –> gym memberships are mucho expensivo from $60-$329587970 per month in the real world so maybe take advantage of that gym now while you got it. AND damn, if i could buy some pomegranate seeds for less than $4 in this city i would love it but NOPE. Healthy food is so expensive, eat it now, save me some, send it to me.

13. Get a hobby –> that sounded rude but really, I need one. As much as I try yoga I don’t like it, it doesn’t relax me. Is netflix a hobby? I have an adult coloring book, does that count? NO. Just like in college there are clubs and groups in the real world that people are involved in like book clubs and women’s groups and political shin digs, JOIN SOME! Get passionate about somethin and do it in your free time.

14. College will tell you or at least it told me that there is ONE definition of success –> get a job before graduation, graduate, live in a fancy apartment, get a trophy wife (lol no thank you) and live happily ever after on a golf course. errrrrrr wrong, I’m really struggling with this but in college they tell you that you can do anything, and that’s true but at that same token YOU CAN DO ANYTHING. You can graduate and get married, go in the military, sit on the couch for a bit, live with your parents, take care of your mental health, etc. Do NOT do NOT let your college define what success is for you. Only you can do that and it will take some time. I’m not sure yet what mine is and i’m getting impatient but I’ll get there someday.

15. Pretend to be your own mother –> tell yourself to take care of yourself. physically, mentally, spiritually. Take that nap, take the medicine your doctor prescribed, cancel something with a friend if you need to, Be healthy.

16. Find your spirituality –> Sure I know my religion, I have ideas about my life and the “something bigger” but no one really lays it out for you that in college there are clubs and events (i.e. Hillel and Hanukkah dinners) but when you leave college you either have to seek out others who will join you in the creation of a club or organization OR (more likely) you have to figure out (probably by trial and error) what pieces of your religion and your upbringing you want to keep in your own adult life and maintain. It’s important, whatever it may be, remembering there is something bigger is helpful when you’re “on your own”

17. This will depend on the person you are but remember, be wise BUT money is just paper –> health and happiness are the most important parts of your life and after college (which you and I were so lucky to have the opportunity to attend) you need to remember that money will come, but health is of the utmost importance. Of course there will be times that money is a priority cause well, girl’s gotta live and eat but remember that it is not the end all be all of your life.

18. (if you’re still in college) pick a major that you LOVE and a minor that is MARKETABLE –> thanks to my daddio for this tip and not thanks for me for not doing this but out here in the cold lonely real world (lol), most entry level jobs have administrative, communications and marketing tasks. Do ya know how to do that? Get on it. Sometimes I feel like my degree only prepared me to play a very narrow focused game of jeopardy………

19. I don’t know if this is actually true but somewhere I saw that you have the most friends and biggest (real life) social network at 25 years old, embrace it –> mhmm all your pals in college are wonderful and there are many you will keep and maintain relationships with but some, I’m sorry this is harsh, are because of convenience and proximity. Outside of college you will have to work harder to cultivate relationships and friendships by truly being there for one another. You will find your circle just reach out! 

20. Keep learning –> again I feel like i got this jeopardy game thing down but when it comes to having intellectual conversations at times I feel lost (and I hate myself for it) because I studied something pretty narrow. Read the classics, watch the news, LEAN INTO THE CONVERSATION (literally and figuratively), attend events, see plays, i don’t know just learn random important things about this world we live in and what it has to offer. There is so much out there so go get it.

21. Know your worth –> In every way possible but since you might be in the position looking for work, know your worth in regards to salary. Not only should you negotiate your salary (no matter how scary that sounds) but you should also research it in your area that you have chosen to look for work. I’m embarrassed to say that before moving to D.C. I underestimated a good salary for myself by about $15k......uncomfortable. You are worth it, fight for it.

22. You can live wherever you want! –> This is the fun part, we are so used to being “stuck” in one location for college or family but you can literally pick anywhere in the world to live and thrive as a young adult. I chose D.C. for professional opportunities but I could have picked China?? No one is stopping you so go big, the older you get, the more responsibilities will hold you back from going somewhere outrageous. Do it, I dare you.

Oy vey, well… that’s all I got for now but I’m sure I’ll learn something new tomorrow or be annoyed/feel helpless about something else I don’t feel prepared for this week but for now, be grateful for where you are and take advantage of it. You can do it (that was also me trying to convince myself)… it’s hard… keep going… and/or napping

ZG. 3/1/17/