#it's temporary because I have PLANS alright

[asteria-argo]

my favourite thing about chapter four of To All The Better Places is watching absolutely everyone losing their minds about Teds perspective

[rheakira]

Today, May 23rd, is Robin's birthday!

Happy birthday, Robin!

[desideriumwriter]

hi how are you!! i was wondering if you could write a fred x ravenclaw!reader (fem) where they’ve been beat friends since the beginning and they’re already in a relationship but it’s just fred and the reader are reminiscing about life and stuff and it’s just pure fluff? if not that’s ok :))

I’m doing alright! I’ve got a few trips planned for the next few weeks so I’m trying to finish as much stuff as I can. Anyways, ty for the request! This was a cute one to write, who doesn’t love some causal fluff with fred???

I Can See Me in Your Eyes

wc: 1,728 | navi | f.w. masterlist

The summer visits to the Burrow were always comforting. It was a warm and windy evening. Fred had his head in your lap as your back was laid against the broom shed in the back garden. You were raking your hands through his hair.

“Your hairs’ gotten so long.” You thought out loud, brushing away the strands that had been blown in front of his face.

“My mum wants me to cut it soon. She’s never been a fan of long hair.” Fred said as he reached up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, copying your actions.

“Are you going to?” You asked, mindlessly playing with his hair.

“I suppose I should, it’ll give mum some temporary relief.”

“Temporary?”

“Well, I don’t know how she’ll feel about me and George opening up our own joke shop.” He began to fiddle his thumbs. “Especially with the money Harry won and gave to us.”

Fred and George had been saving up for over a year now. They planned on opening their own store, selling their homemade fireworks and trick candies. They had already made a good amount selling their products over the summer.

But when Harry gave them the money he won from the tournament, it put them ten times closer to their goal. You remember their look on faces once they entered your booth on the express.

The twins both dropped down into the seat across from you, eyebrows slightly knit together and mouths ajar. George was holding a bag in his hands, Fred was staring it down, you heard whatever was inside it clink when he sat down.

“What’s in there?” You sat up straight, a bit confused and concerned due to their faces.

“A thousand galleons.” Fred said, he sounded like he didn’t even believe it.

George still had an iron grip on the money bag, clutching down on it as if it would run away if he let go.

“She’s never been a hundred percent supportive of what me and him do.” He frowned, you removed one of your hands from his hair and held Fred’s hand.

“I think she’ll love it when she sees how successful you two will be.” You reassured him, Molly was always so keen on wanting them to get jobs in the Ministry.

“Bigger than Zonkos.” He let out a breathy laugh, now playing with your fingers.

“Better than Zonkos.” You added.

“Always outsmarting me. It’s summer, you know? I thought you only did that during classes.”

“I don’t outsmart you.” You laughed in disbelief, giving him a playful shove.

“You always know what to do though. You’re always correcting my mistakes, like in Divination in our third year.”

Fred did have a tendency to get things wrong, usually because he was too busy looking at you instead of paying attention to instructions.

“I don’t understand. How’d you get that for yours?” Fred’s eyes darted between your paper to his, comparing your answers.

“Your chart is upside down.” You gave him a pitiful smile as you slid his paper the correct way. The blush creeping in on his face was painfully obvious.

You let him cheat off you for the rest of the year.

He could never remember the dates that went along with the zodiac signs in your fourth-year astrology class you had together.

“No, look,” You said as you pointed to your textbook, “Aries is March 21st to April 19th, that makes you an Aries.”

“Oh, I think I've got it now.” He nodded, “So that makes you a…” It took him a few tries to get your sign right without looking at his textbook.

“Well, it was a tough class, and it was third year. I made mistakes too.” Fred hummed in response, moving his hand up to play with the hem of your shirt.

“This is a pretty color on you. It’s nice to see what you look like in a color other than blue.” He rubbed two fingers between the thin fabric.

“You say everything is pretty on me.” You murmured.

“Cause it is!”

“You’re just saying that because I’m your girlfriend.”

“Exactly,” He reached his hand up, tapping your nose, “what’s so bad about that?”

“Nothing.” You shrugged, smiling at him and admiring how the sun was casting a golden glow on his freckled skin, you stared at his lips.

He noticed.

“Want a kiss?” He gave a knowing smile, causing you to grin, a sudden shyness creeping up on you.

It was silly how he could still make you feel as giddy and flustered as you were when he took you as his date to the Yule Ball.

“Wow, you look…stunning. I’m speechless.”

“Thank you. You do too.” You said shyly, looking down.

“I’m serious, you look bloody gorgeous.” He ran a hand down your arm, you were grinning so hard your face was already starting to hurt.

The compliments didn’t end there, he gave you as many as he could throughout the night.

“You’re staring awfully hard.” You teasingly pointed out, Fred already knew he was, he just didn’t care. You were breathtaking.

“I’m not staring, I'm admiring, sweetheart.” This earned a flustered giggle out of you, not knowing how to react to the pet name.

Fred lifted his head up slightly, making it easier for his lips to meet yours, embracing in an awkwardly positioned but sweet kiss.

You pulled back and tilted your head to get a better look at his face. His eyes were closed and squinty due to the glare of the sun. But he was smiling, opening his eyes as much as he could to look at you.

“The sun in your hair makes you look like an angel.” He admired, you just scoffed and shook your head.

“I’m serious! It makes it look like you’ve got this halo around you.”

Fred had always been creative with his compliments, even if he had to explain them.

“Your smile is like…fireworks.” Fred said, words slightly slurred, he had snuck maybe one too many glasses of his mum's elderflower wine.

“What?” You giggled out, removing your glass from your lips.

“Your smile, it's bright and big and warm, like how fireworks are…does that make sense?”

“Yeah…wait no, wait no I get it, no..I think it does?”

“You’re a sap.” You happily sighed, leaning back against the shed.

“You’re too serious.” He sat up from his spot, now both face to face and still gleaming at you.

“I’ll leave all the bad joke making and pranks to you.” You teased as you played with the collar of his button up.

“My jokes aren’t bad!” He gaped, looking at you in mock hurt.

“Maybe they aren’t all bad, maybe poorly timed.” You hummed, cupping his face with one hand, loving how pretty he looked with the setting sun shining through his hair.

Still, you weren’t wrong about what you said. Freds jokes were always quite funny, just some were said at the wrong time.

“That was my first kiss.” You blurted out after you pulled away from each other, lips still parted.

“I could tell.” Fred teased, he meant it jokingly, but began to panic once he saw your face falter a bit with sadness.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” He unraveled, “I’m sorry! That was an awful joke!” bringing his hands up to cup your face apologetically.

“So judgy.” He shook his head slightly, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Too judgy?”

“Barely, I’ve been scorned all my life, I think I can handle the heat.” He scoffed; he was right. He was a troublemaker ever since he could crawl. George and him being partners in crime since birth, their mum constantly tried to set them straight.

After departing the train and from the twins, you watched as they both gave each other looks, making small comments to each other.

“The school works quickly with their letters.” George retorted just before they began to walk up to their mum. Who was standing impatiently, hands on her hips and a furious scowl on her face.

“Dungbombs set off in the common room? Fireworks on the train?” She shouted as she shifted her eyes between the two boys. “Are you two dense? Were the amount of howlers sent not shameful enough?”

You’d lost count over how many howlers she sent within the single school year. By the time the fifth one arrived during lunch one day, they didn’t bother to snatch it and leave the hall. They just sat and ate as the letter reprimanded them.

“You know,” Fred said through bites of turkey, “even in writing she can’t tell which one of us is which.” He shook his head, amused. It earned a few good laughs and chuckles from the students around him, from then on, Molly's howlers sent to them just became free entertainment, to them and everyone around them.

“But I may need a present for that little comment you made about my badly timed jokes.” He drew out his lips into a dramatic pout, tapping a finger onto them.

If this was anyone else, you would’ve cringed. However, this was your boyfriend, and you were allowed to act cheesy with him. Instead, you just let out a breathy laugh and rolled your eyes before pulling him into a kiss.

This one was a bit more passionate, a bit messier, a bit more breathtaking.

As soon as you pulled back for some air, a small pebble came flying out of nowhere, hitting Fred in the side of the head. He groaned out and held a hand over where it hit, grimacing in pain. Before you could ask if he was okay, there was shouting coming from the same direction from the pebble that hit him.

You both turned towards the noise, it led back to George, who was standing near the entrance to the garden.

“Oi! Let the poor girl breathe and come help with dinner!” He shouted at Fred.

You accidentally let a laugh slip; Fred looked at you. You slapped a hand over your mouth, still giggling.

“I'm gonna kill him.“ Fred huffed and tried to keep back his smile.

“You're not gonna kill him.“ You let out a breathy chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah? Watch me.” He grinned and gave you a peck on the cheek before he shot up, beginning to sprint at George.

thank you for reading! tell me what you thought! <3

[perfectsunlight]

( 𝟮𝟴 ) ✏ 𝘄𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗲 (𝗵𝗮𝗹𝗳 𝘄𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗻)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘃𝗮𝗿𝗶𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲

“what are you wearing?” minjeong said slowly, brows furrowed as she set her bag down and took a seat in front of you. she was used to your usual overdressed sense of style, but this was entirely different today. 

you raised your eyebrows at the president before moving your hair to show your outfit off more. “do you not like it?” the two of you had agreed to meet at a cafe near the university since jennie had an at home interview today and they wouldn’t be able to hold their session at their usual spot. soft jazz played in the establishment while minjeong got settled in her seat. 

the blonde’s eyes scanned your ensemble as her confusion deepened. she gently shook her head before turning her attention to her book bag, unzipping it as she spoke.“it’s not that i don’t like it. it’s just unexpected. did you have something special planned today?”

you glanced at your watch, biting your lip in thought. “well, actually, yes. i’m going out after we’re done.”

minjeong blinked, her expression shifting from confusion to surprise. “isn’t your exam review tomorrow morning? you’ll be tired.”

you shrugged nonchalantly before rolling your eyes. “you sound like my sister.”

smu’s president forced a chuckle, her fingers fumbling with the zipper of her bag. “i just want you to do well,” she said softly, her eyes avoiding yours. “your hair looks cool.” you said as casually as possible, not even looking at the girl while you complimented her. 

the blonde felt her face heat up slightly before mumbling a quick ‘thanks’ as she handed you a pencil. “so where are you going?”

you smiled, a hint of excitement in your eyes. “i have a date.”

minjeong didn’t know why her heart sank, though she managed to keep her expression neutral. “oh, that sounds nice,” she said, forcing a small smile. “who is this mystery person?”

“is this an interrogation, president?” you snickered as you adjusted your top. the other girl laughed, though it felt hollow. “because i need to know if i’m still driving you home tonight,” she said, trying to sound nonchalant. “i like having a plan.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “well, don't worry, you won’t have to.” your hands flipped open your notebook and slid it to minjeong. it was customary to start your sessions with minjeong grading the homework she gave to you the previous session.

minjeong took the notebook, her eyes scanning the pages, but her mind was elsewhere. she forced herself to focus, scribbling notes and comments in the margins. the usual rhythm of your sessions provided a temporary distraction, but the thought of you on a date kept creeping back into her mind. 

her gut feeling told her it was wonyoung. she didn’t like the feeling of wony going on a date with you. not because she liked you or anything, but because the taller girl wasn’t a good person.

well, that was minjeong’s logic anyway.

the usual session proceeded like normal, with you diving into the material and minjeong guiding you through the concepts. despite the concepts you were still struggling to understand, you both managed to focus and make progress. 

your work always felt easier to do when she was present. minjeong truly was gifted, and you could see it in everything she did.

as the time neared 7:30, minjeong took out a red pen and started writing you some practice problems. “am i driving you to your date?” she said as a half joke, but also a half real question. you chuckled and shook your head. “no, she’s picking me up here.”

“wonyoung?” the president questioned in a manner as nonchalant as she could muster. your swift nod was the only answer you gave. 

minjeong’s stomach churned, but she forced a smile. “alright then. i hope it goes well.” she slid your notebook back across the table to you and put her pen away.

“thanks,” you said, giving her a grateful smile. “thank you for your help, again.”

minjeong nodded as she rose to pack her bag, but didn’t leave her seat. “are you going on a date too?” you teased as you noticed the other girl hadn’t left yet and it was already close to 7:45. 

minjeong laughed lightly, shaking her head. “no, no date for me tonight. i just want to make sure you’re okay before i leave.”

you appreciated her concern, but tried to downplay it. “i’ll be fine, really. jennie didn’t pay you to babysit me.” you joked, earning a raised eyebrow from the blonde. “i’d rather not upset your sister.”

you glanced at your phone, checking for any messages from wonyoung, but there were none. “everything okay?” she asked, trying to keep her voice casual. you sighed, putting your phone down. “she’s late. maybe she got held up?”

minjeong bit her lip, feeling a mix of anger and sadness for you. “i’m sure she’ll be here soon,” she said, though she wasn’t entirely convinced. “try calling her?”

and so you did, only to be left with dial tones and a voicemail greeting. 

“she’s probably driving,” you said quickly and put your phone down again. minjeong hummed in feigned agreement, already having a feeling that wonyoung would not be coming.

another fifteen minutes passed, and minjeong’s concern grew. you kept glancing at your phone, checking the time and your messages. it was clear that wonyoung wasn’t coming, and your initial optimism was long gone.

finally, you sighed, slipping your phone back into your bag. “i guess she’s not coming,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant but failing to hide the hurt in your voice.

minjeong’s heart broke at the tone in your voice. any other day, she would make fun of you or crack a joke. maybe even laugh at you. however, today she felt like just being supportive.

to be honest, she never wanted to see you upset. and to see you so disappointed over a girl who wasn’t worth it? it broke her heart. 

“we can just go out instead.” the blonde suggested as she rose from her chair and swung her bag over her shoulder. you raised an eyebrow at the girl, smirking slightly as you also stood.

“like a date?”

“no, just like how we always go out.” the president quickly responded as she held the door open for the both of you to walk. “you’re holding my door open? seems like a date to me.” minjeong’s blush only deepened before she rolled her eyes at you. “you know what, i’m taking you home.” minjeong huffed in annoyance. a grin crawled onto your face as you decided to keep teasing the president.

 “are you going to open my car door too?” 

“i’m actually going to lock it so you can’t get in.”

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @silantryoo @forever-in-the-sky2 @rosiehrs @urfriendlylocalidiot @chaewonluvsme @zhivaxo @baebeefyburrito @jisooftme @winterlve @mina1vr @rgxjsss @uzumakioden @bexisbomb @tzuyuscloud @cwpiqwon @dream-chasers-things @demtions @sewiouslyz @jeindall777

@writingficsblog @ad0rechuu @lauxymy4 @awkwardtoafault @popstaryunjin @hibernatinghamster @tocupid @myothegreat @yerevies @alexxis10 @sighsam @ddeulgiheree @kikelikesmc @ddoxhan @justalittledissociation @jenaissantex @captivq @lea-pg @skisk1 @justme-idle @neuftaeng

CLOSED.

[eleganthologramcolor]

Check this out, a teaser to a bigger thing I'm working on...

What about a reader who's equally as mean as a situationship!Simon?

Toxic!Reader x Toxic!Simon

Reader gives the attitude they're given. Doesn't let themselves get hurt more than the other one. An eye for an eye, maybe more if you piss them off. Warnings: implied smut, implied female anatomy, mock baby trapping as an unserious breeding kink practice, toxic behavior, reader's inner monolog is going to be MEAN in the main series, unprotected sex + multiple partners, shaming of Simon's abilities.

You'd learned very early on that he planned to use you. You're warm, you're tight, you get the job done. No matter, you didn't expect things to go far with a military dude who insists on fucking the first night anyway. If he's having fun, you should get what you want out of it, too.

He's too rough, too mean, too degrading one night, ruining your orgasm at least 3 times before giving you a half hearted one at the end because, if he's being honest, he got bored, alright? The denial doesn't make you want more, doesnt make you crave his touch, no, not at all. You let him into your home, into your bed for a night and he cant even finish you off properly for the sake of his entertainment? The lingering heat in your gut boiling over into simmering bitterness. That's fine, you tell him, you've "got toys that'll get the job done faster and better than he does." The nonchalance in your tone when you say it makes him flinch. A punch right to the gut of his ego as he's getting dressed, looking over his shoulder at you with an unreadable expression. You don't bother to look at him, playing on your phone for a few minutes before you wave a hand, "Uh, shoo? I want you out of here."

The next time you're on top, you get payback. He'd let you take control so willingly, with that satisfied, shit eating grin when you'd asked so sweetly. God, all you had to do was bat your eyes and soften your voice, what a dumbass. You put on a show, tipping your head back to make softer, sweeter sounds, taking just what you need. And only what you need. He doesn't catch on, enraptured by your performance until suddenly you're clamping down, a little too early for him, so yes, it feels good, but it doesn't quite get him there. He grabs your hips, moving to plant his heels on the bed, when you put a hand on his chest and start getting up.

"I'm done."

"Wot?"

It comes out sharp, he's used to all his other little friends letting him get what he wants, all compliant and sweet and innocently hoping this makes them his favorite.

"I said I'm done. Get out. I got work in the morning."

You stand up so abruptly, leaving him with an aching hard on that twitches painfully as it falls against his stomach, wet and exposed to cold air. Pretty as the sight may be, he was useless with it. Girthy, long and curved, should be perfect for reaching all of the spots your fingers can't, but as you'd found, the Itty bitty vibe that fits in the palm of your hand can give you more than a temporary warmth that does so little to quell the anticipation and heat the rest of him seems to promise. You remember that, and tell him over text next time he tries to come over late.

> the door unlocked?

> no, simon. Its midnight. Already took care of myself.

> you've got someone over already?

> [attached is a photo of a powerful vibrator. It's a little too intense for your tastes, but for the sake of bullying him, you show him something he can't compete with.]

It brings a wicked smile to your lips when you hear his bike outside rev up again, imagining him huff in annoyance, stomping away from your front door when he had been expecting you to let him in. You used to wish you were his favorite, that you were his first choice, that he dreamt of you when he was away. But now you hoped you were the last resort, that all of his other little friends had already said no.

Oh, and his other toys....

You'd found out pretty much instantly. Wicked thing you are pretending not to notice the last bit of purple lipstick under his ear, the pink glittery ring that stains the base of his cock, there before you, the red smudging the neck of his shirt. How many different girls, you wonder, or boys, when you see the particularly mean bruise of a bite left on his inner thigh, dumbass thinks leaving the lights off means you can't see shit. The room may be dim, but you aren't fucking blind. You don't let him know, though, you're privy to having your own fun, too.

Makes you seethe the next time he's playing possessive, in your ear as about how you're his, no one else can make you feel as good, no one else can get this deep, can they, 'lovie?' Makes a big show of pulling the condom off, the sick bastard, emptying into you and grunting about this and that, you having his baby and being stuck with him. Being stuck with his ugly attitude? You think the fuck not.

You're on the pill, but you'll make a big show, too, when he leaves, you call up that pretty guy he'd been talking to. One of his coworkers, you're sure. He's a tad bit sweeter. More feral, more hungry to see you writhing beneath him, the sight being enough to get him off. The next morning you post to your Instagram story, a picture of your hand holding his with the breakfast he got you. A warm bag of takeout and an after morning pill, your lipstick on the back of a new hand. Caption it with something silly and cheesy,

"My prince charming got me some breakfast 😌"

And when that blank account views your story, you know you've got him. Bastard thinks he's slick, you won't notice if he doesn't follow or like any of your posts, yea? Fuckin' dumbass. Walking right into your trap. You stifle a shit eating grin when you're back home and getting a barrage of texts from his number. You're tempted to not reply at all, when a meaner thought tempts you. Without reading his messages, you send one of your own,

> hey simon, kinda busy today. Don't come over later, there won't be room in the driveway.

[undiscovered-horizon]

"Hypothetically speaking" - Juice Ortiz x Reader

SUMMARY: It's basic etiquette to not try your luck with a friend's girl. But when that friends seems to have no respect for the girl, perhaps it's basic etiquette to give her the affection she deserves.

WORDCOUNT: ~ 3k

Truthfully, everyone knew it wasn't going to work out - everyone except for you. Whether you are too pure or delusional, the thought never even occured to you, while the other members of the motorcycle club knew the bitter end the moment they saw you. At first, none of them thought much of it. That's just how Jax Teller rolled, there is nothing new in that matter. It was the subsequent weeks that made them dread the inevitable:

Jax brought you around the clubhouse to help out with the accounting, housekeeping or party-throwing. Usually, you were holding a pan, a broom or a pen in your hand. Or certain other things whenever Jax needed tending to his more carnal desires.

Nonetheless, the other Sons have gotten to know you personally and it was that new friendship that bore dread in their chests. You seemed to have a curious talent for making people feel seen. Even the smallest of details never escaped your attention. Refilling the bar for the night, you'd always find time to ask Happy about his mother's health and how he was holding up. Chibs and Tig have come to expect you to ask them about their children. Their answers rarely changed and so did yours: 'I'm sure they're thinking about you.' The biggest surprise came from the prospects as they had grown accustomed to everyone pushing them around and yelling at them. So when you'd ask them whether they were hungry, at first they were sure it was some kind of a test or a ruse.

For Juice, those little signs of a soft heart were nails in his coffin. Whenever he was spending several hours in front of the computer, you'd appear with a drink and a small snack. On top of that, you always made it seem like these small acts of service are something obvious - it would be entirely strange to not care for others simply because you can. Usually, your presence would slow down his progress as Juice was willing to exchange his worktime for a conversation with you. As desperate as it may sound, he came to the conclusion that his job will still be there in twenty minutes but you will be gone the moment Jax enters the clubhouse and takes you away. Sometimes he wondered if he had Teller's charisma, would you give him a chance? Considering you were seeing his friend, he never planned on acting on his feelings. Even the thought made him cringe: fantasizing about fellow member's girl? That's a rather large 'no-go'.

As usual, the dread settled in the men's chests when you entered the clubhouse. Then, it grew ten sizes as they all silently realised that the inevitable was about to play out in front of their hungover eyes. You passed the threshold in a somewhat hesitant manner like you always did, unsure whether you're interrupting something or are even wanted there. Bobby, Tig and Chibs greet you but they're unable to hide a strange sadness to them. None the wiser, you chalk up their lack of humour to the aftermath of a night filled with vices.

The clubhouse is a temporary ruin. Bottles and glasses are scattered across all flat surfaces. One of the tables is slanted, missing one of its legs. A few pairs of bright-coloured underwear are lying here and there. Something tells you that yesterday you missed a truly historic night of fun.

"Is Jax around?" you ask. The men exchange a meaningful gaze but it goes unnoticed by you. "He left his shirt at mine yesterday afternoon, I was hoping to return it."

Tig's face cringes. There's a sorry look in his eyes. "Sweetheart-"

"He just left, actually," Bobby interjects. "Don't know when he'll be back."

You look between them, beginning to sense tension. "Alright," you answer, unsure what to make of the situation. "Then I'll just leave it in the dorm room."

Their silence makes you wary like there's a piece of information that you're missing while it's fairly obvious to others; something hidden in plain sight. You walk past them, when Tig's conscience puts up a fight once more. He makes a step towards you, hoping to stop the disaster about to unfold. Chibs, however, grabs his arm before the man can realise his plan.

"He's made his bed, brother," the Scotsman says in a low voice lest you hear their conversation.

"Come on, man," Trager answers with a look of disbelief on his face. "She doesn't deserve that."

"Aye, she doesn't." The man nods. His stern expression reveals that he, too, is more than unhappy with the unfolding events. "But it's already happened."

Juice is either really lucky or terribly unlucky to be walking down the corridor at the same time as you. His lips widen in a smile and he's about to call out to you, when he notices the white t-shirt in your hand. In a split second of considering his selfishness and your feelings, Juice decided to act against his own interest. He picks up his pace and manages to block the dorm room door just as you were about to put your hand on the handle.

"You really don't want to go in there. Trust me." Juice is trying his best to sound like he's joking but he's not a good liar - especially when you're the one he's attempting to deceive. True feelings are slipping through the cracks and you notice his nervousness.

"What do you mean?" you ask. The weirdness of the guys' behaviour that day is putting you on edge. What on Earth is going on? "It's not like there's a biological warfare behind that door."

Two laughing voices are audible from inside the room: one belongs to Jax, the other probably to a woman. Something stirs inside you, anxious and dreadful but you push it further down. No need to get upset before you get all the facts, right?

"See? Everything's fine," you say to Juice, although the reassurance is really for yourself.

The door swings open with a slight moan of the hinges. Then, as you take in the scene before you, it feels like time has slowed to a halt. Jax is sitting on the edge of the bed, scandily clad in the thin bedsheets. Maybe he covered himself when he heard the door open or he wasn't planning on getting up just yet. In the bathroom doorway stands Ima, dressed in a rather tacky purple lingerie - the cheap kind that desperately tries to have some semblance of luxury. Had the situation been less agitating, maybe you'd think that it's a fitting piece of garment for a woman of her sort.

It's hard to say whether it's the shock or resilience but you manage to keep yourself whole. The last thing you're going to do is cause a scene.

"Brought your shirt." You disturb the akward silence. Jax's expression is unreadable but Ima appears rather amused - there's a sly grin on her face. Her quiet snickering makes tears pool in your eyes. "Thought you might want it back."

Wanting to evacuate as fast as you can, you lay the t-shirt on the dresser by the door and turn around to leave the room. Juice hesitantly whispers your name as you brush past him but you can only muster a quiet apology.

Jax, suddenly realising the consequences of yesterday's impulsiveness, hastily puts on a pair of pants. He keeps yelling your name, begging you to stop and let him talk to you properly but you don't give in. Running out of the dorm room, he's stopped by Juice, who grabs his arm.

"I think you've done enough, man," Ortiz states in an angered tone.

For a moment, the two of them stare each other down in silence. The tension feels like a forest fire - one moment of carelessness might lead to a true disaster.

Both men are aware of the other's affections. It is only now that they admit this knowledge.

"You need to back off," Jax whispers. Juice is disillusioned that the Vice President would have no inhibitions in caving his face in.

But lovers oh-so-frequently tend to grow just a little unwise the more they love. Perhaps that has made all the difference on that dreadful morning.

"No," Juice says while shaking his head, "I think I should go after the crying girl who just saw her boyfriend naked in a bed with someone else."

"That's not your concern."

Looking over the blond's shoulder, Juice catches Ima's malicious amusement. She knew exactly what she was doing and not for a moment did she feel bad about it. When he looks at Jax again, his dark eyes carry more contempt than anger. "Apparently, she's not your concern either."

Before the young Teller can continue their argument, Ortiz is running down the hallway. Bobby, Chibs and Tig ask him something but he only gives them a disinterested 'later' and continues his search for you.

Despite the perfect view of the parking lot from the rooftop, you didn't notice Juice approaching you. Only when you heard the rattling of the ladder did a wave of shame flood your mind. You didn't want anyone seeing you like this, especially people of formidable grit. Some part of you dreaded being considered weak. If you were just a little more honest with yourself, maybe you'd realise that what you were truly afraid of, was the outside confirmation of what you'd already believed about yourself - too weak, too emotional to ever fit in this life.

The shame, however, seems to evaporate the moment you see Juice's apologetic expression. He always had a strange air about him, an aura you couldn't quite explain. Something about the man makes you think that you could tell him the most asinine or embarrassing thing and he would never think less of you.

With a hesitant, quiet 'hey', Juice sits down next to you. Despite his own desires, he leaves a gap between the two of you. His eyes keep switching between looking at his fiddling hands or the side of your face as though he's unsure what's the correct course of action.

"I'm stupid, aren't I?" you finally speak up. Turning your head to look at Juice, you notice a sudden change in his expression - for some reason, he looks like he's about to burst into tears, too. "Believing that he would settle for me?"

There's so much he wants to say. An entire monologue is prickling at his tongue. You'd be the one settling for him, not the other way around. Never. But Juice manages to keep those thoughts to himself for now as they are not what you need to hear at this moment. Maybe, just maybe, one day he'll get to show you that whoever you decide to marry, no matter how noble or rich, you will be the one settling for them.

"There's only one stupid person in this situation and it's not you," he says in a serious yet gentle tone. "Okay, maybe three stupid people."

Despite his resolve, Juice is only a man and he, too, must break at some point. His hand fearfully reaches for your cheek. When you don't pull away, he hesitantly wipes away a tear rolling down your face.

"Three?" you ask in a quiet voice.

"Jax is one, for obvious reasons." With the back of his hand, Juice wipes away the other side of your face. "Ima is two. And the third... is me."

Confused, you furrow your eyebrows. "You? You're not stupid, Juice. Why would you say that?"

"I'm the king of stupid, actually." He lets out an airy, bitter chuckle. Suddenly feeling small, he retracts his arm. "I just tried to cover for my dick friend, so the girl I'm in love with doesn't get her heart broken. Extra stupid points for running after her like a lost puppy that just wants to make her happy."

"That sounds more lovely than stupid," you manage to whisper before another wave of emotions wreaks havoc. Tears stream down your face again but this time it's not only the bad feelings - there's something nice among them, too. A sense of relief and belonging; an overwhelming realisation that you're loved as a person and not only as a woman.

He doesn't complain or lecture you. Neither does he attempt empty words of comfort and encouragement. Juice doesn't know what he should say, so he settles for silence. However, his quietness speaks volumes. With a soft expression on his face, he keeps wiping your tears away.

"What do I do now, Juice?"

"Whatever you want," he answers with a strange lightness to his voice. It appears that his response is not something carefully woven but rather a cliché.

You sniffle loudly and although there's nothing attractive about that, it's candid. In Juice's eyes, it only makes you more beautiful. "Right now, I don't know if that list is very short or ridiculously long."

A corner of his mouth rises in a nostalgic smile. He seems to be recalling a memory.

"Remember that one time when you couldn't sleep and found me working at the clubhouse?" Juice asks. You only nod, unsure why he would suddenly remind you of that. "Remember what you told me when I talked about all the things I still needed to get done?"

"It's only three things," you repeat under your breath. Truthfully, you have almost forgotten entirely about that conversation. Juice had been going on about all the complicated steps that had to be done before calling it a day but, in the end, it was only three things. Granted, three time-consuming, challenging things but only three nonetheless. You never thought your comment meant so much to him.

"Exactly," he says as though he had just given you the perfect recipe for anything and everything. "I'm suggesting, you do two things now. First of all, get over the guy that couldn't appreciate you."

"Sounds smart but I'm not sure I know how to do that," you admit with a nervous chuckle. Jax Teller has been a tornado to your soul: came suddenly, wreaked havoc and simply moved on. There is no one to clean the mess, no one to put the pieces back together except those that survived. And you're still at the stage of debating whether you have, actually, survived Jax Teller.

"I guess the first step is not going back to him."

As simple as it sounds, the solution might just be one of the hardest things you've ever done. Nothing good comes easy, as they say. If it's true, you're going to reach for something truly incredible with this resolution.

"And the second thing I should do?" you ask. Deep inside, you're paying he's about to suggest something silly or relaxing.

Suddenly, Juice turns shy. This biker guy with tattoos and a loaded gun is fiddling with his hands and stubbornly avoiding your gaze. Despite his appearance, you think he's adorable.

"Well, uh..." He clears his throat in a vain attempt to get rid of his shakey tone. "If you want, no pressure of course but if you find it in yourself, then maybe you could at least think about grabbing dinner with me?" Whatever your expression looks like, it must make him even more nervous as Juice immediately begins downplaying his question. "Like I said, no pressure. I know it's bad timing all things considered, so it's cool if you don't want to, it's okay-"

"I'd love to," you interrupt him.

For a moment, he silently stares at you like a deer caught in headlights. "Cool. That's, um... nice."

You see him ever so slightly cringe at his awkward response but you don't think him weird. No, the nervousness makes you all the more convinced you want to go out with him - the anxiety proves that he cares more than he's brave enough to admit.

"Can we add a third thing?" you ask hesitantly.

Juice smiles at you as if today is the best day of his life; the kind of smile that slowly mends broken hearts. "What's on your mind?"

"Say, just hypothetically, how annoying would it be if Ima's car had slashed tires?"

He nods slowly, a shadow of mischief dancing across his handsome features. "Really annoying."

"And if she had to pay for new ones and there'd be a bullshit charge on the receipt like premium air or something?"

The man laughs. How can a sound leave you breathless?

"She would have a really fucking shitty day," he answers.

"Just hypothetically, I'd be satisfied."

"I think I know a guy. Just hypothetically."

Silence falls between you again. It's not tense. No, it's quite the opposite - the silence of two people who can just be. Now that happiness or at least a lack of sadness has entered your face, Juice is staring at you with an expression you can't describe beyond soft. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was not looking at you but at a rare, priceless treasure he has spent his whole life searching for. But you do know better; you know that, perhaps, people can be priceless, too.

A dark thought suddenly clouds your mind: Jax used to look at you the same way. Not always, not for long but he did. And yet, as he has proven, it meant nothing for him.

You push those thoughts away with all the almost-depleted strength you have left. It's no use crying and ruminating about the past when you have your future sitting right next to you. A bright, terribly good-looking future, one might even say.

"Can you just hold me?" you ask him quietly. The heartbreak of Jax's choice and the elation of Juice's confession have left you tired and vulnerable beyond all imagination. Such opposite emotions are ripping you open in conflicting directions. It's like dying and being reborn all at the same time.

"As long as you need, baby."

Juice wastes no time happily fulfilling your request. He brings your legs over and across his own, nudging you even closer towards him. Gently, he pulls your head to rest in the crook of his neck. As strange as it may sound, the man feels like a fortress protecting you from past and future heartbreaks.

[thefreakandthehair]

@eddiemonth prompt, oct 3rd: School | Bad Reputation - Joan Jett and The Blackhearts | Combative

cw: pre-steddie (vaguely set s2), weed, migraines, un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour read on ao3 | link to series on ao3

It’s 1985 and the boys bathroom smells like weed.

Interestingly, the boys bathroom smells like weed before Eddie ditches his last period to smoke in the little cement block room, window cracked and far less obvious than whoever’s in there ahead of him.

Probably a Freshman who doesn’t know any better, or some first-timer who hasn’t learned the ropes yet, he thinks to himself. 

What he doesn’t expect to find when he pushes the heavy wooden door open is recently dethroned King Steve, sitting on the disgusting tile floor smoking a poorly rolled joint in the corner of the bathroom. Wedged between the sink and the wall, he looks… small, sad, lost, even. If Eddie didn’t know any better, he’d recruit him for Hellfire. He certainly looks the part of lost sheep. 

Steve startles when the door opens and, in what may be the only time in Eddie’s many years at Hawkins High, relaxes when he sees Eddie. Steve’s eyes widen and then look away, back down at his hands. His shoulders clench and drop. His entire body seems to move to defend itself before retreating back into whatever stupor he’s smoking himself into. 

Eddie has no idea what the fuck is happening that Steve Harrington doesn’t take him as a threat after his years of proving himself to be just that. Nor can he imagine what the fuck Steve’s experienced that’s caused it. Seconds pass and Eddie just stands there, door closed behind him, unsure of what to do. Hotboxing the bathroom with Steve hadn’t been his plan, but he’s been desperate for just a few drags off the joint sitting heavy in his pocket all day. 

“You uh, you know that window opens, right?” Eddie asks, gesturing toward the window with his chin. 

Steve doesn’t look up. “Sure do.” 

“Got it. Cool. Okay, uh—” Eddie sputters. He’s had very few interactions with Steve, each one civil enough to leave no bad blood besides the company Steve keeps. Or, well, kept. But none have been long enough for Eddie to get a handle on Steve, not in the way he usually can.

Steve sighs and begins to stand. “I’ll get outta your way, man.” 

Something in the way he moves, the way he grips the sink edge tight and rocks once to gain momentum before Eddie stops him, reminds Eddie of Wayne. Veteran Wayne, who works a harsh manual job and is no less than 25 years their senior. That can’t be normal, he thinks. 

“Hey no, I’m uh, actually here for the same reason. Mind if I just,” Eddie trails off as he locks the door and wiggles his joint around, holding it between his pointer and middle finger. “I’ll crack the window so we don’t get busted.” 

“Yeah, I don’t care, but leave the window closed. It’s too fucking loud.” Steve shrugs and Eddie stops mid-stride. 

Eddie looks back down at the spot Steve has settled back into, his head carefully resting against the painted cinder block wall with closed eyes. It’s easier to watch him like this, long eyelashes spidering across his cheeks and brows furrowing. A tiny line appears between them, vertical, and Eddie holds himself back from smoothing it out. 

“Alright, just know we’re probably gonna get caught.” Eddie compromises as he sits on a toilet, the stall door open, and lights up. 

The flick of his lighter brings him a moment’s comfort, followed by the familiar warmth curling into his lungs. His throat burns and he coughs once, then twice, before exhaling. Little puffs of smoke leave his lips in one long, continuous breath. Immediately, the frustration of his meeting with the guidance counselor, the anger at his English teacher for failing him when he was fucking trying, the shame and disappointment of having to go home and tell Wayne he’s being left back– again– vanish. He knows it’s temporary, that it’ll all come rushing back to him in an hour or two, but for now, his brain is quiet. 

For now, the bathroom is silent. Long moments pass in surprisingly comforting stillness, just Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington in the strangest show of camaraderie imaginable. 

Eventually though, Eddie’s lips loosen.  

“Why are you in here anyways? Shouldn’t you be like… I don’t know,” Eddie starts, miming the act of dribbling a basketball. “Doing some sport thing?”

“I do more than play sports, Munson.” Steve’s eyes roll and he shakes his head, grimacing at the movement. Eddie can’t quite put it together, what that reaction means. 

“Huh. Coulda fooled me. And probably like, the rest of the school’s population. The rest of your Kingdom,” Eddie teases, gesturing widely with both arms. 

“There’s no Kingdon, you ass. Much as you pretend to stay outta the gossip, I know you know what happened. And I’m glad it did, so drop it, okay?”

Steve has a bite to him, an attitude that Eddie admires and can’t help push a bit further. 

“So you fall from grace and now you sit on grungy bathroom floors to smoke? Alone? That’s sorta my thing, just say–”

Eddie’s words get drowned out when Steve interrupts. “I’m down here smoking, alone, because I have a fucking migraine. If I have to see one more fluorescent light or hear one more high-pitched screech in the hallway, my brain is going to leak out of my goddamn ears.” 

Even stoned, Eddie puts it together all at once. The closed window. The cool tiles. The struggle to get up. He doesn’t know the full story, but he remembers Steve walking around with his face beaten in and the rumors that it’d been Billy’s doing during a fight, and the time before that, when Jonathan had gotten a few good shots in. Damn his bleeding heart, but Steve suddenly feels more like a lost sheep than he could’ve imagined.

Someone Eddie feels the urge to protect. 

Eddie stands carefully, all too aware of the sound of his own footsteps as he finds the hidden switch to turn the lights off. There’s still a tiny bit of light filtering in from beneath the door and through the window, but it’s darker. Safer. 

“I can be quiet.” 

Steve looks up at him, brows drawn tight in confusion, and Eddie’s chest aches. How infrequently does someone care for Steve?

“I’ve been in classes with you. I’m not so sure you can,” Steve retorts, a little less sarcastic now. Eddie makes a show of sitting back down on the toilet and mimicking zipping his lips and throwing away a key. It gets an actual laugh from Steve, and goddamn him, Eddie loves the sound of that. 

Eddie watches as Steve’s eyes close again, this time with a relaxed forehead, and stares at him while they  finish their joints. Alone, together. Maybe they could actually be friends, Eddie and Steve. Steve and Eddie. There’s a ring to it that Eddie hates because of how good it sounds. 

He’s drawn out of his thoughts by a rattling at the door and subsequent pounding. Steve’s eyes open and dart between Eddie and the door. “Fuck,” he whispers. 

Fuck is right, Eddie thinks. If he wasn’t already getting held back again, he would be now for what he’s about to do.

He crouches over next to Steve and takes what’s left of his joint from his fingers. “Do you have anything else on you?” 

Steve shakes his head No and opens his mouth, only for Eddie to press a finger against his lips. “Get in the stall and flush the toilet when I open the door.” 

“What–”

“Get in the stall,” Eddie whispers harshly, helping Steve to stand and all but shoving him in the stall he’d been in previously. 

“Dude, they’re gonna know I’m here, it’s fine,” Steve resigns. 

“Not if you have nothing on you, just say you had to take a piss and I was already in here. I’ve got a reputation, you don’t. Who are they gonna believe? Besides, I’m not graduating and you are. Consider it a graduation gift.” 

Before he can open the bathroom door, before he takes the fall as planned because of course, the principal believes the story they’d concocted, Eddie feels Steve place a gentle hand on his shoulder. 

“Thanks.“

As he’s dragged to the Principal's office and suspended, an all too familiar setting, he hopes it’s not the last time he gets to smoke with Steve Harrington.

[shawnxstyles]

free session

DATE: AUGUST 8, 2023

summary: tom hurts himself a little at the gym, but luckily, you’re there to reassure him that everything’s fine. when he finally comes back, you decide to show him what a free session is all about.

request: yup!!

words: 7k

warnings: SMUT (slight praise kink, protected sex, dirty talking), language. this was a quick one

note: okay so i don’t do threesomes lmao, but i didn’t state that until after i got this request (this request is 8 months old i’m sorry). i chose to do tom, but i changed a lot, so i’m sorry if this isn’t even what you asked for at all… i hope someone likes it | NOT EDITED

gym!tom x trainer!reader

—

Tom had a steady routine; he went to the gym in the morning, ate, did his day plans or work, ate again, and then went to the gym at night again. Some people thought he was insane for going to the gym so much, but it felt like his second home. Mainly because the gym was his brother’s, Harry.

Harry and Tom were unbelievably close; out of all their siblings, they were definitely the tightest. Tom assisted Harry with renting, paperwork, and anything he needed for his little business, which wasn’t so little anymore. Once he got popular in town, Tom let his brother handle himself after all his constant nagging. Then Tom was off doing his own thing, worrying about his own life and job. It got consistent, tedious, and boring to say the least.

But on a random summer day when Harry called Tom to deliver the bad news, Tom regrets ever thinking that his simple routine was boring.

“Tom, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to find a new gym.”

“What? Harry, what are you talking about?” Tom drops his gym bag on the floor of his apartment, stopping short with Harry’s words. He presses the phone up to his ear, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip.

“I didn’t tell you before, but all my “loyal” customers have fled to the new fitness center down the street. You know, the one by the café?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s only temporary. I need to refurbish and find some more sponsors, and then hopefully, I can reopen.”

Tom sighs slowly into the empty air of his home, looking up at the ceiling in distress.

“I was trying to figure out how to tell you—”

“It’s alright, Harry. I’m glad you told me now. I’ll just… find a new gym.”

“If you go to my competitor, I won’t blame you.”

Tom replies with a hefty laugh.

“It’ll only be temporary.”

So, that’s what Tom has been doing—going to his brother's competitor. However, it was only supposed to be for a few weeks. But it ended up being a few months. Tom’s adjusted to the new gym quite nicely. He likes the wide variety of machinery and how many options he has. When he first came in, he was using machines he’d never even seen before.

Even though his gym was switched up on him, Tom is a routine kind of guy. It only took him a week to adapt to his new environment and get comfortable with everything. He developed a new schedule for his morning workouts since he can no longer go to the gym in the evening. He wasn’t necessarily a morning person, but for the gym-induced high, he would do it.

He had a specific day for arms, legs, chest, back, shoulders—everything. Over the years, he’s done his research on the body, and even took anatomy in high school.

Did that even help him?

To say he’s gym-obsessed isn’t too much of an overstatement, even if Tom disagrees. He would say he’s obsessed with his dog, but not the gym. He refuses to put himself in the category of “gym-bros” and dumbasses that live off protein shakes. Yeah, he likes those shakes too, but he wouldn’t die if he had more than one cheat day in a week. Tom likes to live his life outside of the gym, unlike those people.

Tom worked an average job with a good salary, and relatively lived an average life with good people. He didn’t go out much because he didn’t have many people to hang out with besides his brothers. Harrison has been his best mate since high school, but with both of their work schedules colliding, it’s hard to find the time. Plus, he’s been way too busy planning his wedding.

Yeah, a wedding.

Tom’s not surprised by the fact that Harrison’s getting married. In fact, he’s not surprised at all. Of course he’s happy for his best friend. He’s just… envious in a subtle way. Both Tom and him are 28 years old, and while Harrison met the love of his life and is starting a future with her, Tom is yet to even date a girl for longer than a few weeks.

He’s been on dates here and there, even had a few one-night stands in the past year, but after some time, he just gave up completely. Sometimes, a girl will smile at him or look him up and down, but he doesn’t even try to pursue them like he used to. For the few times that he is out with his friends or brothers and a girl is all over him, he’ll take the opportunity and bring her home.

But it never goes farther than that. And Tom is afraid he’ll never have more than that.

Shaking off the terrible thoughts to start his morning, Tom walks through the glass doors of the gym. He passes the front desk and towards the clean machines that are practically calling his name. The barely rising sun can be seen through the huge window panes along the entire building, making the scene look peaceful.

There were a couple of bodies in the area, but besides the delicate music seeping through the speakers, it was quiet. To Tom, this was tranquil.

After a few simple stretches, Tom snatches the jump ropes. He jumps until his muscles are loose and warm and they’re just itching to be challenged. Today, he decided to do legs with an additional ab workout just because. He was a little extra energized, and he craved for his body to be sore. He doesn’t do this often, but he needs to change it up once in a while, right?

Tom goes straight towards the leg press, knowing that that machine will fire his legs up immediately. When he starts his reps, he already feels the burn. He knows today is going to push his limits, but he’s ready.

—

About halfway through his workout, he wants to give up. But he knows that’s exactly when you need to keep going.

He’s struggling with his squats, really trying to lift these three plates that are taunting him. He can do two easily, which means he has to add weight if he wants to actually gain and keep his muscles. He takes a deep breath before trying to squat for the second time. He slides the padded bar over his ready shoulders. The weight is dawning and plummeting his own body to the ground.

As he lowers his legs, squatting with the best of his abilities, his lower back aches immensely before he drops the bar onto the matted floor. The plates clang against each other in the relatively quiet gym

“Fuck,” he groans and chucks off his headphones, clutching his lower back near his tailbone. This is now the second time he’s failed, but the first time he’s felt this pain. It wasn’t a shooting, sharp pain, but it was aching enough to warn him that he was positioning himself wrongly.

“Are you okay?” A woman’s voice asks concerningly a few feet behind him. Tom turns around too quickly, making his back hurt a little more. He tries to hide his hiss behind clenched teeth when he sees you.

Your eyes were wide with worry and your head was slightly tilted. You were sporting a tight sports bra with matching shapely leggings. You had a towel dangling in your hand and a black shirt in the other. Maybe it was because of his small pain, but Tom couldn’t help dragging his eyes down your body in awe. He hisses at the sight unconsciously.

“I’m assuming that’s a no,” You squint your eyes with a slight tease as you walk up to him. Tom nods while also fixating in the present. He had a tendency to drift off into his head if his imagination wandered enough.

“Yeah, I think I hurt my bad a bit,” he smiles while trying to stretch by twisting left and right.

“Maybe I can help? If you’d like me to,” You offer as Tom stares at you. Your eyelashes are fluttering almost innocently, and Tom is beyond intrigued. He nods with a charming smile, one that you just had to reflect back. It was easily one of the most gorgeous smiles Tom has ever seen.

“Just so you know, I kind of work here. Well—I mean—I do work here. I’m just new,” You rambled. You were a bit nervous. You were a certified trainer, but you’ve never trained someone outside of your schooling. Yes, you’ve done family and friends, but not a stranger. A random stranger who actually needs your experience. You’re not sure how you landed a job at this seemingly high-end gym, but you never question the good things that happen anymore; you just let them happen.

“Good to know. Since you offered, I assume you know what you’re doing,” Tom teases and you roll your eyes playfully. He eased some of your nerves.

When you ask how he was squatting, he explains what he was doing and when and where the pain was occurring. You nodded along to his words, collecting all of it and connecting it to your knowledge. You come to a conclusion long before he’s done and gaze at his body. You know a lot about anatomy and you’ve seen a bunch of bodies throughout your life.

But staring at his ripped and sweaty body has you feeling all warm and tingly. The morning sunlight seems to shine perfectly over his perspiration, twinkling as a few drops slide between his rigid muscles.

“I think you strained your back,” You say simply without blinking right as he finished talking. You shake your head as if you weren’t just ogling his muscles. What is wrong with you? You were supposed to be a professional.

“Oh,” Tom finally says with a slight frown to his face.

“Does it hurt when you turn as well or just when squatting?”

“Mainly just squatting,” he answers.

“Okay,” You give him a once-over as if analyzing him. You were analyzing him, just not in a very professional way. There was nothing professional about how your eyes turned hungry as they gazed at his blessed figure. “The best thing to do is to not sit. Or stop what you’re doing basically. I would say no more squats for a while or anything that strikes pain. But don’t terminate all your exercise. That will actually make it worse.”

Tom nods along to all that you’re saying with understanding. Everything that you’re telling him makes perfect sense, so there was a good minute where he zoned out and just stared at you. Your matching set makes your skin look smooth and defines every curve of your body. The way your hands moved as you spoke had him mesmerized like he was under hypnosis.

“Got it?” You ask as a heat floods up your neck. Tom blinks rapidly and mumbles a yes, but he looks all too distracted. He didn’t hide well that he was staring at you, but he didn’t seem like he was trying to either.

“Is there anything else?” Tom questions as the air between you two gets tense, voice lower than before. Panting and echoing machines are all that are heard in the space around you. You swallow your sudden nervousness that was about to cough up a whine. You wondered if he wanted you to say something else.

Maybe he wanted you to confess. Confess something that you were both thinking, but you both didn’t know.

“N-No,” You slightly stutter out when you answer, smiling to try to cover this feeling that’s bubbling up inside of you.

“Well, I guess I’ll just do the treadmill before I head out.”

“Right. Sounds good. Have fun!” You ramble as he walks away, chuckling with each step he takes. You turn away and your smile instantly falls as you groan to yourself, “Have fun? Why did I say that?”

You run your hand over your face as you try to regain your lost pride. When you walk back into the coach’s area, you slip on your uniform shirt, so people are aware you actually work there. You take a deep breath and mentally slap yourself in the head for being so unprofessional. You barely just started working here and you’re already breaking rules! You’re not allowed to have relationships with your clients. Wait, that’s a rule, right? Now, that doesn’t make much sense…

But you know for certain that thinking about someone sexually after just meeting them, rule or not, client or not, it’s inappropriate. You’ve never looked at someone and just completely melted at the sight of them. You can’t stop picturing the way his leg muscles flexed as he carried the heavy weight of the squat bar. Or the way his cheeks reddened and hollowed out air as he pushed himself to stand up straight.

Although you watch and help people work out for a living, you’ve never found it entertaining. But for some reason, your mind is just so utterly fucked over by this random guy that you’ve never seen before. He looks like he’s been doing it a long time, especially with that figure. Has he been at this gym for a long time? He seems like he has.

Your mind likes to wander and wander as you do busy work and wait for the day to end. From your area, you weren’t able to see the front doors, so you never saw the stranger again that day. You assume he left soon after your departure, but you wish that you saw him just once more. Maybe you’d get the confidence to catch his name and even offer a session. Free of charge, you imagine yourself saying accidentally because you’d be so distracted.

Throughout your shift you helped a few people and even assisted in the group exercise class. Though, you loved when you had one on one trainings the most because you got to see your client grow their strengths and their weaknesses.

As your shift came to an end, you collected your bag with a heavy sigh. It was only the afternoon, but of course you didn’t have any plans. You had spent a year working to become a certified trainer, but brought no one with you along the way. You took a gap year when high school ended to try to figure out what you wanted to do, and then you discovered training and you felt comfortable. You had some friends, but none were strong enough to stay with you. It was really just you, with the occasional hangout with your older sister who lectured you sometimes.

You felt lonely sometimes, but it’s not like you really tried to fix it either. You went out every blue moon, waiting for some magical miracle to occur. Nothing sprouts; no love, sex, relationship, or friendship spawned at your feet when you’re out late at night in a bar or club. So, you kind of just stopped going. Was it sad to say you kind of lost hope in dating and sex?

Besides the point, when you entered your apartment, you were alone. Just like most days when you weren’t busy researching ways to start a business.

Oh, was that mentioned?

You wanted to start your own business with your certification. However, it was hard because you had little to no experience in business. Your dad knew good tips and tricks, but he wasn’t experienced enough either. And since you were quite lonely, you hadn’t made many connections to people that might have loads of talent in the field.

One day, you would actually talk to someone, you swore. And they would help make your dreams of a business come to life. It’s not that you didn’t believe in yourself to make it happen; it was more than a reasonable goal. It’s just that you’re so unmotivated right now because of your lack of connections.

Ugh, why does life have to be so difficult?

—

Tom wakes up early with groggy eyes and a sore back. He had done some research online last night on how to sleep with a strained back. He was told to lay on his side with a pillow stuffed between his knees. But of course when he woke up in the morning, his body was flailed across his mattress like an eagle, pillows completely disregarded from him.

When he tried to sit up too quickly, a sharp pain erupted in his back, making him sit right back in the bed. Maybe he should just take his time like the woman at the gym said…

You were slightly disappointed you didn’t see the good-looking stranger again on your shift. You shamelessly glanced around the machinery, hoping to recognize his bulky shoulders and defined muscles, but they were nowhere to be found.

You got to see a few good bodies, but there was something about that stranger that just made your insides tingle.

Again, so unprofessional. This is why you can’t start a damn business!

—

Tom didn’t go to the gym for a week. A week!

His back was just in too much pain and lifting heavy weights sounded tortuous. He still went to work and went on evening walks with his dog, but he felt pretty lazy. He forced himself to take a week off of the gym to heal, and thankfully it worked. His mind kept lingering to the pretty woman who talked to him, but he kept excusing it with his pain. He must only be thinking of you because you gave advice he needs to remember, right?

By the next week, Tom was already back in the gym. He walked through those glass doors again, quickly checked in, and headed towards the machinery. He moved slowly as his eyes subconsciously tried to find you again. Tom had this… need to tell you that he’s okay and that your advice worked. Again, it was just an excuse, so he could talk to you again. Maybe he would see your name tag this time, or just ask for it blatantly.

He makes a quick once-over of the area, and is a bit disappointed when he doesn’t see you lingering. He goes straight towards the jump rope to refresh his muscles that have been resting for one of the longest times since high school.

Tom jumps and jumps and jumps… and then nearly falls over when he sees you turn around after doing a squat. The curve of your ass in those leggings made his mouth water and your charming smile made him crazy.

Before he knows it, you’re approaching him while he’s completely phased.

“Hey, I see that you made it back. How is your… back?” You ask, squeezing the towel in your hand with an intense grip. Your heart started fluttering a little from just the sight of him, and you wondered why you were getting so worked up over a stranger.

“It’s all good now! I think,” Tom chuckles while rubbing his neck. He nervously twists the rope between his fingers, trying to think of a way to keep the conversation going. “I, uh, never caught your name.”

Your heart skips a beat and a smile threatens to take over your face. It was such a little thing, but you’ve been wondering what his name was for the past week. A name to a face to fit your fantasies.

“Y/N,” You smile, but your eyes struggle to meet his face. He was just so gorgeous you felt like you might be blinded if you looked too long. “And you?”

“Tom,” he surely answered with a nod.

“That fits you very well.”

“What do you mean?” he questions and your eyes go a little wide. You hadn’t meant to say that. It sounds creepy and weird; to say that his name fits him… as if you were thinking about him.

“Well—like—I was wondering what your name was when I first talked to you and now that you said it, it makes sense. Not that I was thinking about you all week or something… that’s just creepy!” You awkwardly laugh after your ramble, thinking of the fastest way to leave this conversation so you can regroup. This is why your dating life is so shallow. You can’t hold a conversation for a second without rambling out nonsense or making a fool of yourself. It’s typical, really.

You thought he was going to laugh at you like a bully and walk away from your weirdness. But instead, he softly chuckles at your antics while staring at your face. Noticing that he’s still standing in front of you, you slowly drag your eyes up his body until you finally meet his eyes.

They’re that perfectly golden brown color that looks like oozing honey when reflected off the sun. Since you were only a foot away, you could see his nose was a little crooked and he had an uneven eyebrow. His hair seemed a bit unruly, but all you wanted to do was run your hands through it.

“I’ve been wondering what your name was, too,” he finally admits when the air around you feels like it’s closing in. Your heart was beating as if something was going to happen, but you knew nothing would. Nothing was going to happen in front of all of these people.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Tom hums as he watches your pupils dilate and eyes struggle to look at him. He’s been thinking about you all week, he can admit that, but now you can’t even look at him? He wanted to see your pretty eyes. “I’ve been wondering about a few other things as well.”

“Oh? Like what?” Your voice was slightly breathless and you felt the need to check over your shoulder every second. You felt like you were breaking some rule and you were able to be fired on the spot. It felt so wrong, but you wanted to see where this goes. You were all too intrigued by this glorious man before you.

“Like why you can’t look at me.”

“What? I’m looking at you!”

“Not longer than a blink.”

“S-So? Do you want to have a staring contest or something?” You bite your tongue when you stutter.

“Maybe. I just want to see your pretty eyes,” Tom didn’t plan on calling your eyes pretty right off the bat, but his bluntness is what made you finally look up at him. He saw innocence as well as desire laced within your irises. And he wondered if you really had been thinking about him all week. If you had, that would confirm that you want more. It would confirm that Tom isn’t crazy, and that there is some type of spark in between you too.

Will a one-time thing, like sex, dull the craving spark, or ignite it?

“We can’t here,” You say barely above a whisper.

“Do what? A staring contest?” Tom begins to smirk causing you to groan. He’s got to be one of the cockiest people you’ve ever met, but he has every right to be. Usually, you hate men that know they’re attractive because their cockiness just makes them an asshole. But Tom is the funny type, who pretends to be cocky, but he’s actually really humble.

How did you get all of that from only two conversations with him? And they were barely conversations!

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t, actually. Care to tell?”

“You want…” You can see the way he tries to hide his growing smirk and it tells you all you needed to know. The air thickened between you both, heavy with tension and heat. Your heart was racing and your stomach burned in a way that pushed your courage over the edge. You’ve needed something like this for a long time, you just never knew how long you actually needed it. “You want me to give you a session!”

Tom clicked his tongue at your teasing, slightly chuckling. You blinked your eyes as you flashed your fraud innocence at him.

“What does the session include?” His voice was low and deep. There was a certain rumble in his tone that made your legs feel like jelly and your mind go blank.

“I-I can show you. Let’s go in the back,” You try to remain as playful as possible, but you were absolutely losing it. You just wanted him to take control and kiss you as hard as possible; to do the unimaginable. Of course, the horniest you’ve ever been in your whole life is at work of all places. There’s no way there isn’t a rule about having sex in the gym. You’re sure people have done it before, but never employees. That had to have been prohibited.

But your desire is taking control of all your actions right now as you lead Tom through the gym and into your miniature office. Since you were relatively new, your office was in the back of the gym in a little room. The other offices for the more experienced trainers were near the front and were wide open to the public. You didn’t like how your space was so far away from everything because it made you feel disconnected, but right now, you’ve never been more grateful.

As you guide him into your office, you shut the door and push in the lock. You had a small wooden desk with a single picture frame and a laptop. A few different papers lie across, but you’re quick to stack them and slot them in the first drawer. When you stand back up, Tom is closer to you than ever, hovering right over you.

Your heart rate increases exponentially as his hungry eyes pierce your soul. Your impulses want to rip his shirt dramatically off of his torso, so you can run your hands all along his sweaty, ripped stomach. You’d make sure to kiss every centimeter of skin before landing on your knees for him. You’re almost positive you’d do anything he’d ask. Before you can even blink, he’s leaning in, cutting the distance and inching closer to your weekly fantasy.

“So what do I get?” His voice was breathy as his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips. You couldn’t help but do the same.

“Anything. Anything you want,” You respond way too quickly, your desperation spilling out from you. Out of instinct, you took a step back from him, making your back bump into the wall. He was crowding your space as much as he could without actually touching you. And it was utterly killing you.

“What a generous trainer,” he placed his hand delicately on the wall next to your head. “Do you do this with all of your clients?”

“Only the fittest,” Your lustfulness made you brutally honest as if you had chugged truth serum. “But no, I’ve never… brought anyone back here before.”

“The first and the fittest. I might just have to book a session.”

“Luckily, a spot just opened. You can have it,” Your eyes meet him again. The second he sees your eyelashes flutter up, there’s nothing stopping him from kissing you. Not the tension, not the voices in his head, not the fear of someone knocking on the door asking for you.

Tom’s lips crash against yours in an eager kiss, lips melting together from the heat you’ve built up. It’s sweet and it’s salty, but it’s fulfilling that nagging ache you’ve wanted cured all week long. Your hands immediately find their way to his luscious curls, lacing your fingers through them just like you imagined. His rough-textured hand cups your jaw, angling you directing into his mouth when he slots a bit of his tongue inside.

His body presses forward against yours, rock-hard, stiff, and hot. The feeling of his heaviness and warmth was even better than you had conjured up in your crazy, little head. His rhythm was easy to rock with, and your body gravitated towards his. You whimpered into his mouth when his growing bulge poked the bottom of your tummy. Tom took that as a sign and popped off of your mouth. He trailed his wondrous mouth down your pulsing neck, causing you to stab your teeth into your lip to keep quiet.

Tom kissed and nibbled your skin without a care of who might see the marks. He didn’t know what would happen after all of this, but he wanted you to have at least one memory when it was all over. When reached your collarbone, he forced himself off of you.

“What do you want?” he grumbled.

“W-What? I don’t know! Anything, just do something, please.”

“You’re the trainer. You’re supposed to tell me what to do, no?” Tom’s teasing sends a tingle down your stomach that hits you straight in between your legs. “Do y’want me to fuck–”

“God, yes. Do anything, please,” You groaned, trying not to sound too desperate, but it was difficult when that’s all you were.

“Alright, alright, don’t worry.”

Tom pushed himself off of your body to remove his shirt. His glorious body was perfectly defined by his packed muscles wrapped in his tan skin. His skin looked so smooth, like a silky blanket. Your impulses got the best of you and before you could even think, they were roaming his god-like figure with curiosity.

“How are you so fit? Who is your trainer and how can I learn from them?” You question both jokingly and seriously. When he laughs, you can feel it vibrate through your fingertips and it makes you feel all fuzzy.

“I train myself, but I know some great cardio exercises I’d be willin’ to show you,” he winks as his hand lands on your hip. It was your turn to laugh now, your voice breaking the tight tension.

“Please,” You begged, tugging both of his hands toward you. It was your way of saying that he could do whatever he wanted now. “Go ahead.”

So he did. You removed your tennis shoes and then he yanked down your leggings. You were so needy at this point you didn’t even bother to discard your snug bra. If anything, you’re going to need its security with all the movement you’re about to do (hopefully).

His hands grabbed the hem of your leggings until they were completely off of your legs. You’re left in your soaking thong while he’s still in his loose gym shorts. Tom doesn’t waste another second because he’s growing just as impatient as you. He can feel himself twitching in his briefs, craving for a satisfaction that only you can seem to sedate.

Without a warning, Tom cups your mound with delicacy, fingers pressing against your aching hole. The gasp you let out is unwavering as your cunt clenches around nothing but your own desperation. He scrunches his palm, rubbing your underwear as you soaked through the fabric.

“Can feel that you’re soaking, darling,” Tom husks beside your ear, sending shocks of heat down your spine. You’ve never been so turned on in your life from someone, especially because of a deep, sensual accent like his. “Did I do this?”

“Yes, yes. All for you,” You nearly whined, but you withheld it with a strain. “Please just fuck me already.”

“What’s the rush, love? Got somewhere to be?” he taunted. You didn’t have anywhere to be and he seemed to know that. He was lucky you didn’t have any clients today or have any appointments. It was like the perfect coincidence that this occurred on this day. You’re grateful for the fate of the universe as he slips his hand into your panties to lace his fingers within your wetness.

“So fucking wet, love,” he grumbled so low you could barley hear it.

“I need it, please,” This is the most submissive you’ve ever been. You can’t recall a time where you have ever been this wet or needy for another man. There’s just something incredibly alluring about the man about you, rock-hard body and all.

“What do you need? Do you need me to put my finger in your tight, little hole? I bet it would just slide right in.”

“Fuck, Tom,” You growled in sexual frustration. His mouth spilled utter filth, but you were loving it. You felt the very tip of his finger nudging inside of you, causing your walls to clutch tightly. “I need you to fuck me. Please. No teasing.”

With an ever-growing smirk, Tom slips his hand out of your underwear and glides the material down your jelly-like legs. Your eyes never leave his hands, too scared to meet his intimidating eyes. You watch him with curiosity and desire as he tucks his thumbs in the waistband. His briefs come into your view and your eyes widen when you see the impressive bulge outline.

You swallow, intimidated by his size, especially since you haven’t had sex in a decent amount of time. He hasn’t even pulled down his underwear yet and you’re already frothing at the mouth.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I, um,” Your eyes wander around to your purse on the floor by your desk and you quickly bend down to pop it open. In one of your secret pockets, there is a nicely wrapped condom. “Here. I hope it fits.”

Tom laughs as he tugs his briefs down with ease. “You’re not good for my ego.”

You wanted to laugh in response, but you were too distracted by his cock. Mesmerizingly, you gaze at his hand stroking his veiny length, seemingly as desperate as you with pre-cum leaking at the tip.

Instead of grabbing the condom from your hand, Tom says, way too gravelly, “I want you to do it.”

So, with shaky hands and doe-eyes, you rip open the package and slide on the latex. The look on your face can easily make it seem like you’ve never even seen a dick before. But now looking at Tom’s, it feels like all the others are down the drain.

Within seconds, Tom has you back against the wall, one hand resuming beside your head and the other on your hip. Your heart jumped and pussy throbbed, waiting for him to break the lustful barrier in between you two.

“Ready?”

“Y-Yes,” You whimper as the head of his cock glides along your thighs before sliding in between them. Your arousal soaks the condom as he grips one of your legs, hoisting you up and around his waist. Your arms instantly wrap around his neck for security as your leg connects to him like a koala.

With one leg on the floor, you try to maintain your balance as he finally thrusts into you. You both collectively groan in sexual satisfaction, finally having your craving fulfilled. When you thought he had pushed all the way in, Tom pumps deeper inside of you, causing you to squeal.

“Shh, darling. Don’t want anyone to hear us fucking in your office, do you?” Your moans contradict his request, but you can’t help it. His hips were flicking up into you so fucking deliciously, and you couldn’t stop yourself from bucking right back into him. “Or maybe you do. You want someone to walk in and see one of their trainers getting their brains fucked out?”

“M-Maybe,” You couldn’t lie, the idea was enthralling. The idea and his dirty words made your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head. He knew exactly what to say and when to say it, almost as if he’d studied this.

“But I don’t want to get fired,” You whined a little too loudly.

“Well, then you better be a good girl and quiet down.”

In order to obey his demand, you brought one of your hands to cover your mouth. You allowed yourself to moan in your palm when his pace increased and he bottomed out completely. You could feel yourself fluttering around his cock as he rammed into you like no tomorrow.

His free hand traveled down to your clit and circled the throbbing bud with roughness. You shrieked against yourself, clenching tightly around his thick cock to compensate. Blindly, you are clawing at the skin on his neck and chest. Still, even when he was deep inside of you, you were terrified to look into his dark eyes.

With every thrust, you felt the way his muscles contracted against you. You felt and heard the way you drenched his cock even more with the sight. His muscles and body were the first thing that caught your eye about him to begin with, so you’re not totally surprised that you’re dripping from that.

He looks like a model. A statue. A god.

Small beads of sweat began to form on his abdomen, glazing down his chunks of muscle as he jammed harder into you. Your head hit the wall hard in ecstasy when he lowered himself to your neck and nibbled right below your ear. Every breath and groan that slipped from his mouth just sent you into overdrive and made you insane.

“I’m close,” You breathily warned, squeezing your leg tightly around him to push him even deeper. Tom groaned loudly on accident, too overpowered by the feeling of you.

“Wish I could hear your sweet sounds,” Tom mumbles as he pinches the top of your thighs to make you squeal. He resumes his attention on your clit, so he can distract himself from coming, because he knows he’s milliseconds away from absolutely losing it. “I know you’d sound so pretty screaming my name.”

“Tom,” You whimpered instead, eyes screwing closed. Your back began arching towards his buff chest and your breathing was becoming more rapid, indicating that your release was right around the corner. “I’m coming, shit.”

“Let go, love. C’mon, know you need it,” his lovely accent guided you through it with gravel encouragement. With another skillful rock of his cock, you were coming until you saw stars. Literally. Your eyes were closed so tightly that you saw little white specks in your vision. “There you go.”

Tom took that as his sign to finally relieve himself. As his thrust got sloppier, he helped you through it. With a fist to the wall and head in your shoulder, he came harshly in the condom.

Your body squirmed in his hold, already too sensitive. He gently let you stand on both feet, keeping you steady as you regained your balance. He removed the condom, tied it, and tossed it in the garbage.

“I can take out y’trash if you want me to,” Tom offered as you both slipped on your clothes. The humidity in the room seemed higher than ever, and then to put your clothes back on was just torturous.

“It’s alright, it’s not like anyone will go through it,” You reassured as you struggled to pull up your sticky leggings.

There was a moment of silence that made your heart rate pick up.You were both fully dressed and there was nothing stopping him from walking out. What was he thinking? Was he trying to find the best way to leave without being mean?

“I—” You both spoke at the same time, a flush burning your skins.

“Go ahead,” You insisted, too nervous and impatient for his response. He probably never wanted to see you again and that was fine, this was just a one-time thing that you will be thinking about occasionally. Or every day.

“Okay,” Now, Tom couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. He felt a tad nervous all of sudden as if he’d never talked to a girl before. He’s done this stuff loads of times, but he can’t help but get flustered like a school boy. “Can I… have your number? You can totally say no—”

“Yes,” You probably responded way too quickly, but you didn’t care. He wanted your number and you weren’t going to waste a second pretending to think about it. A smile grows on his face that was even bigger than his devilish smirk from earlier. “What does this mean?”

If you didn’t ask him, you would’ve been regretting it forever. You knew you wouldn't have had the courage to text him that question. What if he never even texted you, and he was just asking for your number to be nice?

“It means I’m going to text you.”

“Okay, well, thanks for clearing that up for me,” You rolled your eyes, but at least he was honest.

“Maybe ask you out too.”

“Really?” Your heart jumped on a trampoline in your chest, excitement bubbling up within you. You have been on a date in about a year, and Tom seems like a wet dream come true. You thought that maybe he wanted a friends with benefits arrangement, but a date? Is this real life?

“Yeah, if that’s something you want—”

“Yes,” You probably responded way too quickly, but you didn’t care. He wanted to take you on a freaking date and you weren’t going to waste a second pretending to think about it.

You did give him a free cardio session. The least he can do is take you out, right? What’s better than a free cardio session? Free food!

—

thanks for reading, this isn’t my favorite thing i’ve ever written because it felt a bit forced… so sorry about that 😭

tags: @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @theslayerofthevampires @breaxthing @eatshitanddiee

crossed out= not able to tag

[captainjacklyn]

Love, Love, Love Part 1-ish

A/N : a small fic made from this incorrect quote which I promised a part 2 and here it is just- longer.

Context : Rollo gets transferred to NRC for a few months, The Headmaster decides that he would be staying at Ramshackle Dorm much to Malleus' dismay (along with grim and the first years who are aware of the truth). Yuu doesn't find it nice either but with time they allow the third year to open up to them, eventually growing mutual respect for one another, perhaps some friendship..and a bit more.

Warning(s) : fluff, hints of rollo liking Yuu, this is a continuation of some sort to my joke so pls understand that it isn't from the beginning, Rollo might be OOC he's just scared of Yuu, they/them pronouns for Prefect !

A bit of background..

"I'm back from dealing with the principal's casual destruction ! How are you boys holding up ?" The prefect announced their arrival back at Ramshackle the moment they got in. A smile, half glad it was over while the other half expressed their passive aggressive bitterness from when taking care of other people's jobs. Grim was laying on the couch looking at one of his notebooks to try and study for an upcoming assessment. Rollo flamm, a new temporary resident of the manor was reading a book of his own next to the fiery raccoon, his attention turned to Yuu when he heard their voice.

"Ah. Welcome back Prefect, are you alright ?" He asked, placing his volume on the side and getting up from his seat to take their bag. Yuu thanked him and stretched their arms before walking over to Grim and patting his head. The feline let out a hum as his henchman did so and once the bedroom door closed, the two occupants glared at each other.

"Weasel."

"Simp"

.

.

.

.

Since it was the weekend, most students had the option to rest their minds or do the opposite of relax because of a test. "Hey guys what are you doing ?" This current scene happened a few days after the first, Yuu was once again returning to Ramshackle. Though this time, they stopped at the small gates when they noticed their first year friend group staring at Rollo from a distance.

When the Prefect called out to them, Ace quickly turned around and shushed them. "We're observing the enemy." Deuce explained in a hushed tone, They only chuckled at their antics and Epel attempted to defend their choice of pass-time. "We don't what he could be planning this time ! I mean he's gardening right now, you know what that means.." The way his tone of voice changed towards the end of his sentenced made Deuce frown in remembrance of that incident.

Yuu shook their head with a knowing smile as they approached them and ruffled Epel's hair. "Don't worry, I'm making sure he doesn't make the same mistake. He's getting better, I promise." They didn't buy it but Ace nodded along with a shrug, possibly considering the option since he wasn't there when it all happened.

To reassure them, Yuu continued as they all looked back at Rollo who was watering the plants at the entrance. (he stated that it would look nice because of how dried the yard was, Yuu only agreed as long as he did the work) "I'm sure he'll change into becoming a nice normal man...very normal." then Rollo started to spin around as he watered the flora. The collective all narrowed their eyes, "That's not very normal." Yuu commented.

In a minute he changed his stance completely and went back to his original position. "That's normal." The prefect spoke while pointing at him to prove their judgement, Adeuce and Epel nodded their heads at the same time. However they all scrunched up their faces and tilted their head to the side a second after Rollo sprayed fertilizer in his eyes.

Yuu ignored it and gave Deuce a pat on the shoulder. "Anyways- It's gonna be exciting to have someone new around. Nobody is born bad, I promise you that. I'll get to know him and we can all share our lands...even though I feel like contradicting my own words." they muttered under their breath as they walked away from the group and pass the gates, to go speak to their tenant who was..performing strange water rituals. "Flamm !"

Their voice was firm enough to have the eyebag silver-haired individual look their way the instance they spoke. Mostly because they made it very clear that they were the boss around this area, by using threats that is..brutal ones to say the least.

"Oh hello Prefect, I was just taking care of the plants-" "Yes I know you were performing your bizarre holy water ceremony." They cut him off halfway and right when he was about to say something, the not-so-genuine smile on their face made him change his mind. "Uh Yes..that was it." he accepted their statement, learned a while ago that saying no to someone who could force him to sleep in mud wasn't the best option.

Then Yuu suddendly perked up. "Oh right I came back from Sam's shop to bring you these, just like you requested." Reaching into their satchel, the magicless student handed him a few bags of flower seeds. He offered a small smile as he took them, "Thank you." Rollo responded, they answered with another smile and although they were serious, it was much more for setting something straight rather than intimidating him. "I trust you, Rollo..And I really hope that your brief stay with us helps you with whatever you're..going through I guess." Yuu carried on, Rollo looked at them for a while as he took in their words, he then gave them another small smile.

"Thank you..I appreciate it." They chuckled as he spoke softly. "Just looking out for my non-non magic user !" they joked.

A little further off was the trio of freshman watching the scene unfold in disbelief.

"He has to go."

"Agreed."

hope you liked reading this, part 2/3

[epickiya722]

The way I'm seeing this so far (because the chapter ain't officially out and the manga isn't done) when it comes to Sukuna's "conclusion" is this...

It reflects how he is.

True, we haven't gotten much about his backstory. Some of it we did through the little flashbacks and whatever else other characters had said about him.

And when he does go out, we don't get any inner thoughts of his.

But to me, just me now, it reflects that Sukuna is a person that doesn't care to reveal much about himself. He states in 265 that he "doesn't feel anything". We know that's not true but that what Sukuna wants to be believed. He's closing himself off, but he isn't just closing himself off.

He's closing himself off to Yuji.

Look, Sukuna is an arrogant guy and he will not admit to being human, especially to Yuji. Even though Yuji has been the one person to at least try to understand him.

Us not knowing much about Sukuna till the "end" is just another one of those instances where he's being closed off. If we knew his inner thoughts, it's knowing a vulnerable piece of him. Sukuna doesn't want to show his vulnerability. He doesn't want to admit to his humanity. It's just how he is.

I'll admit, I do think something did happen in Sukuna's life that made him that way but I also think it doesn't exempt him from the actions he takes. If Gege was going to give us a backstory, I do feel like some may have used it to excuse his actions, not understand them.

Going back through this translation, he didn't seem like Sukuna even rejected Yuji here. At least not outwardly.

Instead, it's just him rejecting the idea of him being human and claiming he's a "curse". Maybe not literally, before any of you "Sukuna isn't a curse" jump me. It's him stating "I'm a misfortune on your life".

Which is true. Even before Yuji was born, Sukuna was already a curse in his life. He was made to be his vessel. This is something that Sukuna does know (chapter 257).

His final words here isn't him rejecting Yuji's offer to still coexist, even if no one accepts him (Sukuna). Sukuna acknowledges that offer in his own Sukuna way. He knows he and Yuji will always be one in the same while. Even in death, Sukuna is still part of Yuji and vice versa.

The "don't underestimate me" part just feels... like he's going "Alright, but don't expect me to make this easy on you".

I do have some thoughts about Yuji's side on this, but I'm leaving that for a separate post.

I'm not done.

In another post, I did agree that Sukuna's ending feels underwhelming and I still don't think it's a bad thing.

Going back to the curse thing. Sukuna isn't technically a curse, but the way the others treats him makes him feel like he is a curse. He's a human who happen to behave like one.

While Gojo went in fighting Sukuna for a challenge, just he was another opponent that he (Gojo) did aim to kill and Kashimo after, the others went to take down Sukuna because...

THAT'S THE JOB OF A JUJUTSU SORCERER!!

Sukuna was a Special Grade curse they all had to plan and work together to take down.

This was just another day on the job for them, of course the ending was going to be "lackluster". It was no different than Shibuya!

Once Yuji and the others jumped in to fight Sukuna, it became a job. Yuji will probably be the only person to think over this and find more meaning to it because it's who is he. The others? They didn't have any kind of attachment to Sukuna. Megumi was just his hostage and temporary vessel, nothing else. Megumi feels nothing for Sukuna, but anything negative.

Nobara? Nope.

Toge, Maki and Panda? Nuh uh.

Kinji? He was fighting Sukuna's right hand, but I bet he doesn't like Sukuna.

How about Kirara? Nope! Kusakabe? Nah. Higurama? Sukuna acknowledges his strength but Higurama acknowledged his role he had to play, Sukuna wasn't anything to him.

Choso? Sukuna definitely had some vendetta against him and Choso damn sure didn't like him.

Anyone else? Nope.

And Kashimo and Gojo (and Higurama, but it wasn't mutual) were just opponents Sukuna took pleasure in fighting.

Other than that, just a job. Killing Sukuna was just a job.

So, of course, the end was "underwhelming". This may be a story in the shonen genre, but not all stories will follow the usual formula of any genre in clean cut fashion. Jujutsu Kaisen just happen to be one of those stories because in this story, being a jujutsu sorcerer isn't about being a Hero or "righteous" or "I'm the best". It's an ever-going cycle of fighting curses (and sometimes there is other meanings to it) and Sukuna just happened to have been one of those curses.

[elitadream]

❗️Important announcement❗️

Hello everyone! 😁 January is finally here, and this is very exciting news for me because I'm going to New Zealand!!! 🤩✈️ It's a huge trip that I've been planning for a whole year now. It will be the first time I ever take the plane. The first time I visit another country in years. The first time I travel so far away from home! And what's more, this will be the longest trip in my life. Over a month. I can hardly wrap my head around it still! 🤯🗓

I've also had some time to reflect, and... I've decided to use this opportunity to step back and go offline for a bit. 🌱 I wanted to tell you about this sooner, and I apologize for how sudden this probably is for most of you. I promise that I'm alright and doing this with a peaceful mindset! Although- I'm a bit sad at the thought that we won't see or hear from each other for a while. 🥺 It's a bittersweet feeling, but at the same time, I'm sure the temporary change of pace will be a good thing. Lately I've been feeling the need to take a break from social media again, and the timing is perfect. I'm ready. 🤲💫

To my lovely friends and followers here: I hope you will all have a great time these next few weeks. I hope the beginning of 2024 will treat you well and that you will get to experience new and exciting things. Wishing you lots of inspiration, fun projects and plenty of fascinating conversations until I return. 🙏🥰

Take care, everyone! I will miss you dearly. 🫂💗 Thank you, and I love you all,

- elita 🌸

[bonny-kookoo]

Yoongi:

Lock Me Up | Intro/Part 1

In which his job is pretty clear on paper; find the witness, bring her in, write down what she saw and then let the witness protection program handle the rest. The only problem: You've got other plans.

Tags/Warnings: Detective Agust D my friends, Criminal Kitty!Reader, hybrid Yoongi, mentions of murder, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, mentions of past abuse, strangers to enemies to I don't even know, sexual tension

Length: Long, 4k words

Next ->

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"So, just her then?" He asks, reading the files about his most recent case. "Double homicide, and she got away?" He wonders, as the young officer shrugs at the table.

"According to another witness, she saw her run out of the house we found the victims in, and she apparently got chased down the street- but a butcher downtown told a patrolling officer that she was fine the day after." He explains, making Yoongi sigh.

"Well, finding a cat in D-Town." The man takes the files for himself, grabbing his coat. "How hard can it be?"

Turns out, it's not that hard at all, considering the high percentage of hybrid population in D-Town.

He's walking into the small restaurant, most of the people eating and working being hybrids, immediately looking at him with suspicion as all conversation quiets down. He's used to it by now, most hybrids aware of what he is, his reputation amongst each and every one of them one of a traitor. "I'm searching for a female hybrid. Feline." Yoongi asks one of the servers behind the counter, cooks turning around to watch the detective. "Has a ID number tattooed into her left ear. 0713." He offers an image depicting you caught by the security camera of a small grocery shop nearby.

But much to his expectation, everyone shrugs, shakes their heads, won't tell him anything. It's a typical pack-mentality amongst hybrids- no matter what, they stick together against the human dominated police force.

"Alright, let's ask for your papers then. Mind me having a look at all the legal documents for your little establishment?" He melodically threatens, and it's clear that it makes the young server and her husband close by nervous, her eyes immediately looking at two young twin hybrids watching a cartoon on an old CRT-TV. "She's.. upstairs. She didn't do anything, she's a good girl-!" The woman begs, yells after the detective as he immediately makes his way up the stairs, only her husband holding her back.

The moment Yoongi opens the door to what he assumes might be a bedroom though, you're clearly there-

Jumping straight out of a window.

"Fuck.!" He calls out, running back downstairs to run after you, whole restaurant laughing and cheering for you as you dash away from the detective, heels clicking on the pavement as you run away. He has to admit that he's a little impressed by your ability to jump over obstacles and run so fast with those mary janes, though it's clear after a while that he's got the better stamina of the both of you. He's catching up to you.

But you're clearly already very knowledgeable in police chases, because you suddenly jump up against a wall of a small building, managing to somehow heave your entire body up the ledge to get onto the roof.

"So what now, huh?!" He calls out to you, breathing heavily just like you are. "One call and I've got the fucking thing surrounded. Just get down, I'm here- fuck.." He breathes for a second, before catching his composure again. "-I'm not here to arrest you."

"Hmm.. nah, I'm good." You simply answer, sitting close to the edge of the roof now.

"That wasn't a question." He calls out back up to you, one brow raised in annoyance. "Get down."

"No." You simply answer stubbornly, your tail swaying from left to right behind you, since you've moved to lay on your stomach instead, arms on the edge of the rooftop, chin resting on top of them.

"Alright. Hybrid 0713, you're under temporary arrest for suspicion of involvement in a double homicide case." He orders out to you. "Now get down here-"

"Does that ever work on anybody?" You ask after a moment of silence with an almost bored tone to your voice, face clearly showing genuine interest in the answer though.

He licks his lips, hands now in his pockets. "Not really if I'm honest." He shrugs honestly, making you giggle. "Come on now, I seriously only need you for questioning, I don't care about any other shit you've done."

"How about you buy me dinner first?" You ask, rolling over onto your back, now looking at him upside down, and he's unsure if you're aware of your cleavage ready to spill out of your dress, or if you're trying to put him under your spell.

With eyes as enchanting like yours, he could see it work if the setting was different. Wait- what the hell was he thinking?

"Are you serious?" He growls. "You're not in any place to make demands." He argues, and you shrug at that, before getting up to leave, moving out of sight. "Hey-!" He calls out, walking around the small shed you've climbed up on, unable to spot you. "I'm not getting paid enough for this shit.." He mumbles as he moves a trashcan closer to the side of the building, slowly climbing up onto the roof- to find nothing.

"I'll give it an eight out of ten, but only cause you've got a nice ass, Mister Detective-" You giggle behind him down on the floor, before you laugh. "See you later, Imposter!" You laugh as you run off-

leaving him sighing on the rooftop, questioning his life choices.

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Every day you're out there on your own, is a day where you run the chance of getting yourself killed. And while he's got no emotional connection to you at all, you're still an important witness to his case- so he's got to make sure he can avoid you biting the dust anytime soon.

He spots you near an old fountain that's now worked for years, but still holds water, back turned towards him. From the movement of your ears and the way your tail snaps upwards once, you've clearly notice him already though. "Don't worry-" You chuckle, moving around as he walks closer. "-Won't run off this time." You say, as he's finally close enough to see what you're doing.

The side of one of your legs is severely scratched up, from your ankle straight up to almost your thigh. You're using the water to wash off any dirt, shoes and socks neatly placed next to you. "What happened?" He asks, and you shrug, calmly cleaning yourself as he sits down next to you with a respectful distance.

"Tripped. Fell." You shrug, and it's clear to him that you're not telling him the whole story. Even so, he doesn't need to know it- the only thing he needs to know, is what you've seen the night of the murder.

"We'll get that looked at at the police station." He offers, standing up, and you grin impishly, leaning your head back to look at him above you. "What?"

"You gonna carry me, Mister Detective?" You ask, tail swishing from left to right in your amusement.

"First of all, stop calling me that, second of all, why would I do that?" He asks, putting his hands in his pockets.

"I'm hurt!" You whine, turning around with your now wet legs, holding the scratched up one out towards him. "I can't walk." You say with big sparkling eyes, and he squints his own as an answer to them it feels like.

"It's just scratched, now dry off and put your shoes on." He demands, making you pout and cross your arms.

"No." You answer, and he has to take a deep breath to contain himself.

He's however, internally, a little confused at himself. Why does this whole thing amuse him so much? He's not so much angry or frustrated, but there's something entirely different brewing inside him. "Hm, that angry look doesn't work quite right with human eyes like that." You say, catching him off guard. "You'd have a way better chance without those fake lenses." You offer, and he doesn't react to it at all.

"Get up." He simply says, and you do so, limping on one foot. "Come on, drop the act now. I don't have all day for your games."

"We could already be on our way if you decided to be a gentleman, Mister Detective." You snap back, picking up your shoes and socks.

"I told you to stop calling me that." He bites at you, and you have the audacity to laugh.

"And I told you to carry me, but I guess we both won't get what we want today." You joke, before you're suddenly lifted up over his shoulder, one arm over the back of your knees to simultaneously keep your dress from lifting up by accident. "What are you doing!?" You stammer out now, and he can't help the smirk growing on his lips as he walks towards the police station.

"Being a gentleman, just like you wanted."

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"She definitely needs some sort of protection until we've found and arrested everyone involved." Another officer named Namjoon says. "She's already been targeted judging from her injuries. She's been lucky until now, but luck is a gamble. Until they've been prosecuted, we'll have to keep her under protective surveillance." Namjoon orders, before he looks at Yoongi.

"Absolutely fucking not." He immediately says, but it stays quiet.

There's no arguing with orders given, so he does ends up walking into the interrogation room, where he unlocks your handcuffs. "Oh, Mister Detective!" You perk up as you catch his scent, tail swatting into his face almost as he leans away from it. "Finally! I'm so hungry, I swear.." You whine, eagerly freeing your hands out of the cuffs before you get up, jumping on one leg as the other ankle had been put inside a brace since you've sprained it. "Can you carry me back to the restaurant downtown?" You wonder hopeful.

"You're not gonna go anywhere for a while." He tells you, moving your hair away from your neck. It's weird that the way his hands touch you makes you shiver a little- nervousness bubbling up inside you as he places the leather collar around your neck, something clicking in place in the back. "I'm legally required to inform you that you've been electronically tagged until you're no longer required to be. You'll be staying under both GPS surveillance and house arrest until the case has been officially closed or dropped, and the tag can be used at any given time to locate you or send out police enforcement to retrieve you in case it's deemed necessary. Did you understand everything I just said?" He asks, and you sigh, kicking out your feet stubbornly.

"…yeah.." You mumble with an attitude, pulling on the collar. "Can you loosen it a bit though? You're kind of choking me and I'm not really into that." You say, and he clicks his tongue.

"That's as much as I can do." He tells you after loosening it a little. "You'll get used to it."

"I guess." You snap with your eyes rolling, standing up. "So.. I'm gonna be locked up?" You ask, looking at him.

"You're just under house arrest, like I said." He shrugs. "Close monitoring is what they call it. I'll basically be forced to be your babysitter until the case is finished, but they'll let you stay at your own home unless decided otherwise." He explains, and you suddenly seem a lot more relieved about that.

"Alright I guess." You say, getting up to grab your shoes, still barefoot., before you lift up your arms towards him.

"What now." He asks with an emotionless face, hands in his pockets.

"I still can't walk." You say.

"You can hop around on that thing." He answers, turning around, before he opens the door- though you've sat back down on your chair, arms crossed.

"I don't wanna hop around." You simply say, looking at him challengingly. He pushes his tongue against the inside of his cheek- and you just know, if he did have cat ears, they'd be full force airplane-mode right now to visualize his growing frustration with you.

And you love it- because he's so stuck up in being professional that there's no way he'd ever act on whatever the hell he's thinking inside his head. He's probably used to getting his way, a macho and alpha-male who's deep down so insecure about being seen as a proper male that he-

Suddenly your world is upside-down again as he carries you over his shoulder yet again, and you kick your legs out in denial. "Hey no, that's not fair-!" You whine, tail swatting into his face before he grabs a hold of it in the palm of the hand belonging to the arm holding your legs. "-Let me down you suit-wearing di-"

"Better watch your mouth, sugar, or I'll have to charge you with disorderly conduct." He tells you, and you huff in frustration to yourself as you shut up at that, hanging limply off his shoulder as he walks out of the police station with you like this.

"You think Detective Min is going to be able to handle this on his own?" A young police officer wonders to the leading detective Kim, who just chuckles in his office as he watches the scene unfold.

"Oh, I'm not worried about him whatsoever." He simply says, grinning amused.

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It's in the middle of the night, when the small monitor on his wrist begins to buzz, waking him him from his sleep. He's squinting his eyes painfully against the bright light of the small screen, before he realizes what he's reading.

[TAG ALERT: SUSPICIOUS MOVEMENT DETECTED]

He's instantly on his feet, rushing to put on clothes and shoes before he rushes out his door and onto the streets, where he checks the monitor to know where he needs to go. The tag alert itself isn't something he's surprised about- he's expected you to start wandering around even with your little issue- but you're moving way faster than you should be capable of, indicating that there might be something terribly wrong.

In front of the restaurant you've been living at, the mother with her twin children is already standing outside, pointing down the street with one of her toddlers in her arms, making Yoongi immediately run to where she'd directed him to. There's drag marks on the ground, alarming him further as he starts to smell your fear and panic- fueling his instincts to get to you before anything could happen.

"Let go you crack-smoking rodent-!" He can hear you yell, loud commotion coming from down the street behind a closed grocery store- and it's at least a sign to him that you're still very much alive and kicking.

"Fucking bitch just bit me-!" Someone yells out, as Yoongi rounds the corner, gun drawn.

"D-Town police, hands up where I can fucking see them!" He yells, causing everyone to move and dash off, no shot of his landing to keep them there.

"Nice aim there, Mister Detective." You huff on the ground, rubbing the back of your head. "Thought you guys are trained with those things.." You mumble to yourself, as he walks closer to inspect any damage done to you.

"I'll ignore that comment for now." He says as he checks up on you. "What happened?"

"Broke in, took me from my nest, dragged me here like a bag of rice." You explain, as he lifts your head by your chin, thumb wiping your bottom lip where some blood can be seen. You know he's only trying to figure out if you're hurt or if it's not your blood, but it still affects you considering you're not used to be touched like that.

But another thing you notice, is his eyes- his entire appearance, in fact, as you reach out to move your hand through his hair.

"Hey, stop that.!" He barks out, but you've already done what you wanted to do.

"Huh." You simply hum. "Been wondering if you had anything hidden on your head."

"There's nothing to hide there." He growls almost, standing up instantly before he lifts you up by the back of your shirt. "Now come on. We'll get some of your shit from your place, and then you'll stay with me. I'm not taking anymore chances with you." He orders, and surprisingly, you don't question it, and don't even ask to be carried around, simply hopping alongside him for a while as you make your way down the street.

It's quiet, most people asleep at this point in this part of town, when he sighs, turning towards you to pick you up.

"Come here." He mumbles quietly, tapping his shoulders as he turns around and leans down for you to get onto his back. You silently accept the offer, letting him piggyback you to your home where you stay, and pack a small bag of things you deem necessary for your stay with the detective. He watches quietly from the sidelines as you say goodbye to the young cat hybrids, when he's spoken to from the sides.

"She's a good girl." The husband of the mother tells him. "Just shaped by the circumstances, you know? You bite others or get bitten, as simple as that." He explains.

"I'm not arresting her." Yoongi explains, and the man shakes his head.

"No, no, I know you don't." He exclaims. "But I know you guys always think of us as some sort of criminal bunch that don't follow the rules just to spite you, and we're not." He simply explains. "Just- ah, what does it matter to you I guess.." The man shakes his head, before he walks inside, leading his wife and kids into the safety of the restaurant-

while you walk out of it, ready to be carried away.

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Back at his place, you still haven't really said anything- making him suspicious, as he sits on the edge of his bed, having put up a mattress for you to sleep on close to him in case anything happened at night. "Who were those guys?" He asks, and you shrug, pulling out a rather worn down blanket from your plastic bag.

"Don't know." You answer. "Probably with Takehiko, if I had to make a guess." You shrug, before you pull out one small flower shaped pillow to sleep on- the man mentioned, Takehiko, being the prime suspect of the double homicide. He's well known for selling tampered drugs on the streets of D-Town, as well as blackmailing hybrids by threatening to report them to authorities to be taken into shelters.

Yoongi wants to question if you're alright- if everything's okay with you, but he doesn't. It doesn't concern him, it's none of his business, and the less he gets himself involved with you-

the better it will be for the both of you in the end.

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"Mister Detective!" You call out, and he turns around from his desk to find you rolling around on his carpet on the floor. "I'm bored." You whine, and he sighs, turning back around. "Mister De-"

"I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I'm gonna fucking gag you.!" He growls, turning back around again.

"Kinky." You wiggle your ears, and he takes a deep breath before he crosses his arms. "I'm still bored though."

"Go read something then, I'm here to protect you, not entertain you." He mumbles, before it grows quiet. It makes him turn around to notice you staring into nothingness, before you move to curl up on your mattress instead. It makes him wonder if you're always this stubborn if you don't get your way- or if there's something else going on you're just not telling him.

Either way, he doesn't care, and shouldn't, so he continues working on things he usually doesn't have time for during his workdays, while he assumes you sleep.

"Do you have a tail?" You ask out of a sudden, making him choke on his sip of water as he almost spits it out, cough interrupting him for a good moment.

"What the fuck!" He snarls out, setting down his glass as he wipes his mouth.

"So is that a no?" You wonder, and he shakes his head.

"No!" He says, grabbing tissues to wipe his desk down.

"No- no tail or no- yes tail-" You continue, but he cuts you off.

"No as in, none of your fucking business.!" He growls, clearly agitated at that question. "If your plan is to annoy the fuck out of me so someone else will supervise you, guess what, it's working great."

"Wasn't my intention, actually." You shrug, sitting up now. "Was just curious. You know- since you're clearly a cat too, but also not really. Confused me, that's all." You explain.

"Yeah well, you're not the first." He mumbles to himself, sitting back down at his desk.

"Does it confuse you too?" You ask, and he sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Alright, what the fuck does it take for you to shut up?" He asks, looking at you, and you just smile.

"An answer would be cool." You simply say. "Look, I knew a cat hybrid a few years back and he had a super short tail, but he was a really nice guy! Smoked a lot of weed, but still." You explain, and he leans back in his seat, arms crossed defensively. "So?" You ask.

"I don't have one." He tells you.

"Liar." You squint your eyes, ears tilted towards him. "It's short, isn't it?" You ask almost teasingly, and he looks away at that, giving you the answer needed. "Hey, that's totally alright though, no shame in it! Or.." You tilt your head. "Is that why you hate hybrids so much?"

"I don't hate hybrids." He scoffs, shaking his head at you.

"Yeah right, as if it's pure chance that you're known for putting hybrids into shelters left and right." You huff, crossing your arms as well now.

"It's because you belong there if you do not have a legal guardian or permit for independent living." He argues. "I'm only trying to help you out. A shelter provides you food, a place to sleep, education-" He tries to explain, but you're visibly becoming defensive now.

"Oh yeah and don't forget how they hit you with whatever they've got on hand just because you knock over a glass full of juice at the dinner table!" You hiss, annoyed that he's talking about shelters like they're as holy as a church. "Or how they lock you in the shower with ice cold water after you've pissed yourself out of fear as a kitten because everyone just keeps shouting at you-!" You angrily say, and his features remain without any emotion as he realizes you're not just making up examples you might've heard.

Considering the details and the way you tremble saying those things, it's clear to him that you're talking about your experience in a shelter.

"But what is it to you." You suddenly shrug. "You go continue cosplaying as a human I guess." You mumble, turning around to hide under your blanket again, silence engulfing the room for a moment or two, before he gets up and moves around. You don't know what he's doing, and you honestly don't want to know. You also don't know what you thought blurting your childhood trauma out like that would bring you as a result- but that's how you are, and have always been. Impulsive, wild, a little hyperactive and too honest most of the time.

Suddenly, he's close to you, and you hiss in pure pettiness at him, before you stop in your tracks, watching him.

His face is as stoic as ever, sleeves of his shirt rolled up as he wraps a blanket around you, tucking another one into places, and you're confused. "I- what're you doing?" You ask, and he scoffs to himself.

"You're the hybrid, I honestly got no clue how to do this shit." He mumbles, sighing in defeat as he sits back with crossed legs, letting his hands fall into his lap in defeat.

"But you're a hybrid too." You ask confused, though he shakes his head.

"I'm a freak, there's no need to try and sugarcoat it." He shrugs. "Neither here nor there. I don't know what it's like to be put through the shit you might've been, since I never lived life from your perspective-" He explains, "-and I don't know what it's like to be a human either, since you can only hide so much." The detective explains, watching how you correct his admittedly poor attempt at nesting for you.

It's clear to you that he's trying to apologize for his assumptions without actually having to apologize- the detective is a lot easier to read than he might think he is.

"Yeah, I mean you kind of suck at being both, I won't lie." You say, making him look at you with harmless offense. "What? Your nesting sucks ass, and those contact lenses you constantly wear creep me out." You jab at him. "But!" You bark out, leaning closer to him, catching him off guard a little. "Seeing as we're kind of stuck together, I can give you a rundown on being a hybrid!"

"And why exactly would I want that?" He asks you monotonously, and you roll your eyes.

"Because you clearly got some major identity-issues going on?" You tell him as if it's obvious. "And I also clearly can't magically turn you 100% human out of nowhere."

"I don't have Identity-issues-" He argues, while you look at him with an unconvinced gaze, arms crossed.

"Mid-life-crisis then?" You ask, "You do look pretty old.." You mumble at him.

"I'm not old!" He hisses, and you grin suddenly, ears in airplane-mode while your tail swishes from side to side in happiness. "What?" He asks annoyed again.

"Your teeth." You notice, and he instantly closes his mouth, lips pressed firmly together at having them called out like that. "And you're also not wearing those creepy lenses." You continue to point out, tilting your head to the side. "Handsome, I like it." You comment, and for some reason, that's what forces him to stand up and move away from you, all while you fall onto your back, laughing loudly.

"Shut the fuck up and tell me what you want to eat for dinner instead."

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[auroragreenvale]

People Watching - JJ Maybank

They met in class for metaphysical philosophy, he tells his friends I like her ‘cause she’s so much smarter than me

OR How you and JJ met

Summary: A look into different points of JJ and reader's relationship inspired by People Watching by Conan Gray. 3k words

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A/N: I loveee this song especially the opening verse and I always loved picturing the people that inspired it. The chapters wont follow the order of the lyrics. I hope y'all enjoy :)

***

“Dude look what is this shit?” He smacked the paper before holding it out to Pope. He took hold of it, looking over each class listed in his friend’s schedule for the upcoming year until he found the so-called “shit” JJ was referring to: Philosophy. Pope let out a chuckle the moment he registered the word and looked over at his friend, amused. “Pope, man this isn’t funny they must’ve messed up my schedule and shit! I can’t take this class, man!” Pope could only continue to laugh, catching Kiara’s attention. She grabbed the paper out of Pope’s hand and quickly displayed the same reaction as him. 

“Wow JJ I had no idea you were such a scholar! An intellectual if you will?”

“Shut up Kie!” JJ rolled his eyes as his friends’ laughter died down, ready to show a little sympathy. 

“Look JJ,” Pope started, “It really isn’t that big a deal. This stuff happens just go talk to the counselor and get it fixed, easy.”

“Yeah alright… gimme that,” JJ snatched back his class schedule before roughly folding it and putting it into his pocket. He’d probably remember to look at it again before the first day. Probably.

***

To JJ, school was the single biggest waste of his time. He sat through stupid classes all day, missing out on prime surfing time. And what’s worse, it’s not like he could smoke a joint in the middle of history, much less chat with any of his friends in English. He was just glad to have guaranteed easy classes that required close to nothing on his end. That and the knowledge that he didn’t have parents riding his case about his education or caring about his future allowed him to ignore the nuisance that was school once he left the building. But being put in philosophy did not work into his plan. Philosophy was for the smart people. Like Pope smart. Maybe even smarter and JJ definitely considered himself a lot less smart than Pope. JJ took the classes that were required of him and absolutely nothing else. The people who took philosophy probably finished half of their requirements in middle school and overloaded on classes with specific topics because they were actually interested in them. He shuddered at the thought of more school as he entered his next class. Seven students sat at the various desks, not even filling half of them. JJ thought maybe the rest of the class was running late but he thought it was weird that everyone there currently sat toward the front of the room. His other classes were always full and people had no issue sitting in the very back row even if the one closest to the teacher had yet to be filled. But JJ was a master at blending in of course and even though he planned to get out of this class by tomorrow, he could still have fun pretending to be one of the smart kids. He slid into the last empty seat in the second row, looking around and observing his temporary classmates. His brow furrowed in confusion when he noticed them all with faces in books or scribbling away in their notebooks. How were they doing work before the bell had even rung? He slid down slightly in his seat letting his head hang down in the direction of his empty desktop, hoping to divert attention away from himself so as not to blow his cover and ruin his little game. His hand came up to the side of his face, blocking it from the others in his row as he waited for the dreaded class to begin. 

“Hi!” The sound came from the desk next to him. He lowered his hand and looked over at the girl sitting there. “...I… haven’t seen you before, I’m Y/N.”

“Oh well… I typically take a lotta... math... classes so this is kinda… new for me,” he tested out.

“Oh me too! Maybe we’ll have some more classes together.” You smiled at him warmly.

“Mmm yeah maybe,” he smiled, amused at the possibility, “I’m JJ.”

“Nice to meet you. Glad to have you in class JJ.” Again he smiled, you reading it as politeness when he really was trying to hold back laughter. Finally the bell rang signaling the beginning of class and JJ realized no other students had entered the room. If the first bell took that long to sound, he knew it would take an eternity before the last one would sound, ending his philosophy career and his misery. 

***

“You’re kidding me what!? What do you mean there’s no other classes??” JJ yelled, ignoring that he was in the administrative office. 

“Please keep it down Mr. Maybank. What I mean is that all the other classes at that time are full so we can’t move you out of your current class.”

“Ughh! … Yall messed this up, you gotta fix it!”

“I’m sorry JJ but there’s nothing I can do.”

“Okay but you don’t understand I can’t spend the whole semester in this class its for like the genius kids! I can’t do that shit!”

“Mr. Maybank please watch your language. And as for these ‘genius kids’ I suggest you talk to one of them about tutoring you.” At that JJ threw his head back and groaned as he exited the office and made his way outside to join his friends for lunch. They immediately noticed his dramatic expression as he approached. 

“Whats up J,” Kiara asked slowly. 

“This bullshit! They said they can’t take me outta that stupid class!”

“Wait you mean philosophy? You have to stay in it all semester,” Pope asked. JJ nodded.

“And what’s worse they said I should get a fucking tutor! Like I’m gonna go outta my way and do more school when I’m not even at school,” JJ shook his head, “I think I’ll just go ahead and fail.”

“Hate to break it to you man but if you fail it they’ll probably make you retake it over the summer.”

“Pope dude are you serious?” He nodded. “Fuuuck.” Kiara patted his shoulder, looking amused.

“Well uh, guess you’re getting a tutor.”

***

JJ walked into his second day of philosophy and slumped down in the seat next to yours. Blowing out a breath, he reluctantly looked over at you, preparing to ask you the dreaded question. You gave him a small smile.

“So uh… do you like… tutor people ever? For a friend! He’s… he’s looking for a… tutor.” Your smile grew, knowing where this was going. 

“Oh yeah I do what does your, uh friend need tutoring in?”

“This class!-- Well not this… class but you know this subject.”

“Mmm okay well I’d be willing to be your friend’s study buddy, help ‘em out.”

“Okay cool cool.... Cool. That's real uh cool of you.” You giggled. 

“Cool,” you answered sarcastically. This made JJ laugh softly, dropping his charade.

“Yeah so uh… should we get crackin’ like today I-- I think that would… be good. And do we… me at… the library or…?”

“Um we could or we could just go to my place if that's better?”

“Okay yeah… yeah sure that's good I’ll uh, meet you after school?”

“Sounds good.” He mirrored the smile you gave him before you both turned to face the front of the class where the teacher stood.

***

“JJ come on, the final’s in two weeks you need to get some more work done on your paper so you can start reviewing in time.”

“But dude. This paper is so stupid I do not care about any of these old guys’ theories.”

“Okay but you know them, I know ‘cause I helped you learn them, so pick one and write something about it.” JJ groaned in his usual dramatic fashion making both of you laugh. You shoved him lightly, telling him to write which he eventually began to do. When you had finished up your own essay you turned your attention to what JJ had started writing. You read over the beginnings of his essay a couple of times.

“JJ! This is good. These ideas are really good!”

“Well don’t sound so surprised,” he joked.

“I just mean I figured you had nothing since you didn’t want to write it so bad. But this is good, keep going and we can polish it up.”

“For real?”

“Yeah I’m really proud of you.” It was a simple statement and you quickly turned your attention to work for your other classes. But JJ let his gaze linger on you for a few seconds longer, a small smile on his lips. No one had ever said they were proud of him before. At least not that he could remember and definitely not when it came to smart stuff like this. He felt his heart expand hearing those words and he wondered how it would feel to hear them again. And again. He hoped he might do something else deserving of someone’s pride again. It made him feel taken care of in the way he tries to take care of his friends and it felt good to be on the other side of that kind of affection. He turned his attention back to his work and for the first time in his education, felt some motivation.

“No listen John B she’s like, so smart it's like cool! She might even be smarter than Pope and he’s probably the smartest person I know.” In his modesty, Pope let out a loud laugh, thinking JJ must have pretty low standards for intelligence if he was on the smartest end. “Pope what the hell is funny man?” This made Kiara snicker as well. JJ’s friends were all amused at how serious he seemed to be about this, all seeing what he couldn’t.

“Uh, JJ it sounds like you might have a little crush,” John B said. 

“Shit,” JJ said, brushing off the notion. “Fuck,” he said more quietly in realization in disbelief. His friends continued their quiet giggling at his apparent predicament. 

“You gonna… you gonna ask her out or what? I mean you’ll only be in class together for another what, two weeks? And I doubt you’ll ever be in one of her classes again so,” Pope laughed. 

“Shut up man I could be, I'm doing pretty good.”

“I’m sorry could any of you imagine JJ dating this apparent genius girl,” Kiara laughed at the images it brought to her mind.

“Yeah I don’t know if she’d be down to date like a surfer dude,” John B changed his voice to mock his friend. 

“Or she’d be like studying or something and you’re all,” Kiara also took on a ridiculous voice, “‘Hey babe wanna hit,’” she mimicked blowing out smoke and took on a stoner persona that they all knew was incredibly far off from JJ. But they still found it funny.

“You guys are the fucking worst and I’m gonna ask her out and you’re all gona feel like idiots okay,” JJ said holding both of his middle fingers up for all of his still amused friends to see. 

“Just invite us to the wedding okay,” Kiara mocked, earning a shove from her friend as she fell out laughing. 

***

“Hey I wanna… say, ya know thanks for helping, uh my friend out with this class,” JJ said trying to bring you back to the beginning of the semester with this class. You closed your book figuring it was time for a break. You gave JJ a tired smile that was nonetheless bright. He almost rolled his eyes when he smiled back just as big remembering how his friends noticed his feelings before he did and hating them being right. 

“Well he was a pretty… okay study buddy,” you joked back. JJ let out a breathy laugh.

“Just okay?”

“Well you’re pretty easily distracted but you do keep it fun. So better than okay I guess. And you really impressed me this semester. You’re a lot smarter than you think.” When JJ recalls this moment he can only assume he blushed a bright pink at your genuine statement and the look in your eyes. Thinking about it, he still wants to melt in both embarrassment and somehow happiness. He quickly changed the subject.

“Gonna be weird not seein’ each other all the time huh?” He had really gotten used to seeing you everyday, enjoying the time he spent with you even if it was filled doing activities he didn’t so much enjoy. 

“Yeah.” You paused. “...No one in my classes is ever as,” you searched for the right word but couldn’t find it, “...fun as you.” 

“Well no one in my classes is ever so damn smart like you,” he replied, “But uh, I was wondering did you maybe wanna hang out sometime? Like no studying or anything?”

“Yeah I would, yeah. Let’s do that,” You smiled at him and then opened your textbook again, eyes going down to the words you knew you would no longer be able to focus on. 

***

JJ stood in front of the small bathroom mirror in the Chateau fluffing and fixing his hair over and over, indecisive. He wore his least dirty pair of boots and had borrowed one of John B’s less loud button down shirts. He topped it with a jacket. He felt a little weird but he hoped you’d think he looked nice in the clothes that were slightly nicer than what he typically wore to school. He smoothed back his hair one more time and ran his hand through it once. He settled on that. At least it was clean and dry, an improvement from the usual. He drove the Twinkie to your place, a very familiar route by now. When he arrived he paused in the driver's seat. Did he text you he was here or did he go up and knock? Was that what people did to pick up a friend or just dates? You hadn’t said this was a date. And what if one of your family members answered the door? He let out a breath and opened the car door before he could stop himself. He walked up to the door and knocked. He waited almost a moment too long, beginning to contemplate going back to the car and texting you when you opened the door grinning. You were actually really excited to hang out with JJ and get to know him more without homework and studying. You had enjoyed his company over the semester. JJ smiled and felt relief when you appeared and then suddenly felt self conscious. You looked exactly like yourself and he was wearing someone else's clothes. So fucking stupid. He tried to push it out of his mind as you greeted each other and he walked you to the Twinkie. As you both almost arrived at the driver's side of the car, he had the idea to open your door for you. He stopped awkwardly and abruptly, confusing you, as he changed direction to go around the front of the van. He opened the door for you and you got in thanking him. You showed little confusion, just a small smile, as you were used to his odd actions at this point. JJ got in the car, turned up the music and began driving. He felt nervous as shit. He spent the entire semester with you and now you were causing him to act like an idiot. And this wasn’t even a date! What was wrong with him? He clutched the top of the steering wheel and glanced over at you quickly before he started speaking.

“So uh I was thinking we could maybe get some food over at The Wreck? That… that cool?”

“Yeah that sounds good,” you responded. JJ didn’t really love the idea of going to the place Kie’s parents owned and she worked there. He’d be surprised if he didn’t see his dumbass best friends there trying to spy on his date. If they all weren’t, Kie would definitely be working there, and have prime position to embarrass him. But she did offer to cover half the bill and it was a hot spot. JJ figured it would look good and maybe earn him another date. Or a first real one actually. God he just hoped he wouldn't blow it. Another date with you, even if only one more sounded like a great deal to JJ, and he needed to do everything possible to make it happen.

***

You sat in the passenger seat of the van that JJ had informed you was called the Twinkie. The conversation lulled as he drove the car up to your house and in that moment of silence, realization dawned on you. Your brows scrunched as you tried to make sense of the thought that had appeared in your mind. JJput the car in park and you turned to him before he could say anything. You took a breath. 

“JJ? Was this a date?” You asked it with hesitation but more confidence than you expected to come through your words. JJ turned to you, caught off guard, but quickly painted on his signature playful smirk.

“Did you want it to be,” he asks. You almost rolled your eyes. 

“JJ,” you repeated more sternly this time. You really wanted to know his answer. “Was this a date?” His face softened and his expression changed from the confident boy most knew well to almost bashful. You decided you liked that look on him.

“I was kinda hoping it could be.” He looked up at you at the end of his statement and mustering all of his confidence leaned in. It happened quickly. He touched his lips briefly to yours in a soft kiss. It was so delicate that it stole your breath, making you dizzy. He pulled away before you could even process that moment. He looked at you, eyes closed and bottom lip between your teeth to suppress a smile. You took a deep breath in. 

“Definitely a date then.” You opened your eyes slowly.

“That cool with you,” JJ asked, growing nervous. You nodded flashing that smile that JJ already found intoxicating. 

“I’m hoping you can… take me on another one?”

“Yeah of course.”

“Okay,” you said. You leaned over quickly, mirroring his actions, and placed a kiss on his cheek. Just as quickly, you exited the car with one more look back at the boy. With your back to him as you unlocked your door, he let out a cheer before speeding off. You smiled to yourself as you entered your house and JJ grinned his whole way home.

[munchmemes]

taylor swift lyrics, the tortured poets department edition, part one

fortnight

▸ i was supposed to be sent away but they forgot to come and get me. ▸ i was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic. ▸ no one here's to blame but what about your quiet treason? ▸ for a fortnight there, we were forever. ▸ i took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary. ▸ i love you, it's ruining my life. ▸ thought of calling you but you won't pick up.

the tortured poets department

▸ who uses typewriters anyway? ▸ you're in self-sabotage mode. ▸ we're modern idiots. ▸ you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate. ▸ i chose this cyclone with you. ▸ sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me. ▸ so tell me, who else is gonna know me? ▸ that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

my boy only breaks his favorite toys

▸ you should've seen them when they first got me. ▸ i only break my favourite toys. ▸ i should've known it was a matter of time. ▸ we could've played for keeps this time. ▸ i know i'm just repeating myself. put me back on my shelf. ▸ i'll tell you that [you/they] run because [you/they] love me. ▸ i knew too much. ▸ you saw forever so you smashed it up. ▸ once i fix me, you're gonna miss me. ▸ you took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts and told me i'm better off but i'm not.

down bad

▸ for a moment, i knew cosmic love. ▸ now i'm down bad, crying at the gym. ▸ everything comes out of teenage petulance. ▸ fuck it if i can't have [you/them]. ▸ i might just die, it would make no difference. ▸ i might just not get up, i might just stay down bad. ▸ fuck it, i was in love.

so long, london

▸ my spine split from carrying us up the hill. ▸ i stopped trying to make you laugh. ▸ how much sad did you think i had in me? ▸ i didn't opt in to be your odd man out. ▸ i'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free. ▸ you say i abandoned the ship but i was going down with it. ▸ my friends said it isn't right to be scared every day of a love affair. ▸ just how low did you think i'd go before i'd self-implode? ▸ you swore that you loved me but where were the clues? ▸ i'm just mad as hell 'cause i loved this place.

but daddy i love him

▸ i just learned these people only raise you to cage you. ▸ i just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you. ▸ they slammed the door on my whole world. the one thing i wanted. ▸ you should see your face. ▸ no i'm not coming to my senses. ▸ i know [you/they]'re crazy but [you/they]'re the one i want. ▸ all my plans were laid. ▸ growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all. ▸ i'll tell you something right now, i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning. ▸ i'll tell you something about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace. ▸ i don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing. ▸ god save the most judgmental creeps who say they want what's best for me. ▸ you ain't gotta pray for me if all you want is gray for me. then it's just white noise and it's just my choice. ▸ scandal does funny things to pride but brings lovers closer. ▸ fuck 'em, it's over. ▸ time, doesn't it give some perspective?

fresh out the slammer

▸ fresh out the slammer, i know who my first call will be to. ▸ handcuffed to the spell i was under, for just one hour of sunshine. ▸ years of labor, locks and ceilings, in the shade of how [they were] feeling. ▸ it's gonna be alright, i did my time. ▸ as i said in my letters, now that i know better, i will never lose my baby again. ▸ my friends tried but i wouldn't hear it, watched me daily disappearing. ▸ ain't no way i'm gonna screw up, now that i know what's at stake here.

florida!!!

▸ you can beat the heat if you beat the charges too. ▸ they said i was a cheat, i guess it must be true. ▸ this city reeks of driving myself crazy. ▸ little did you know, your home's really only a town you're just a guest in. ▸ i'm barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine. ▸ well, me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time. ▸ yes, i'm haunted but i'm feeling just fine. ▸ all my girls got their lace and their crimes. ▸ i did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that have ever been on my body. ▸ i've got some regrets, i'll bury them in florida. ▸ tell me i'm despicable, say it's unforgivable. ▸ love left me like this and i don't want to exist.

[macaroonff]

YAY okay so Can I pls request an angsty comfort fic where Jungwon comes home from practice and he’s already been having such a bad day and then reader says something small but because he’s already upset she makes him cry and she’s rlly confused why he’s having such a strong reaction when he’s not usually the type to. Then she suggests they go for a walk to the park and he opens up to her and they talk things through

Here you go! I really appreciate a good comfort fic and I hope you like it anon! Thanks for being my first request (❁´◡`❁)

We'll be alright- Yang Jungwon

Y.J.W x gn!reader (Idol boyfriend Jungwon)

↳ Wc: 1.9k

↳Angsty fluff, hurt comfort

♪ Jasmine- DPR Live

By the time Jungwon had reached the familiar door to your shared apartment, he could barely feel his arms from the weight of the backpack he had carried, as though the entire day’s mistreatment was packed in that small vessel. If that wasn’t enough, his back hurt from the excessive dance practice, where even Ni-ki looked fatigued from exhaustion due to the demands of their concert a month later. That coupled with how his entire day went wrong didn’t help him. From burning his fingers while trying to make simple pancakes to packing your sports shoes for his practice which- being two sizes too small- didn’t fit him well. Did he still use them? Yes because he didn’t want to hear anything from the choreographer nor waste time looking for another pair, even if it made his ankles hurt. Did his day also get worse when a bird decided his shirt would be the perfect urinal while he was waiting for a cab back home; after his manager left early to drop the others to the dorm while he had to stay in the longest meeting of his life, discussing concert plans that he knew weren’t feasible? Yes, and he quite literally and metaphorically felt like shit. 

He had already had two weeks of longer days, with his schedule extending beyond what he was used to, longer than the most arduous of comeback preparations. So far, he was just grateful that he hadn’t collapsed from fatigue and that the worst he felt was due to a few minor aches in his body. But today? Today he truly embodied exhaustion, from the physical aches getting exponentially worse, to his mental capacity being drained. Unlike before, he didn’t even have the energy to pretend like his usually stoic self, his head both empty yet throbbing with the entire day’s happenings, affecting his mental peace. He reaches out a fragile finger to ring the doorbell, taking him longer to press it. He leans his head against the door, from where he can hear your footsteps coming closer, and he tries to smile for you, a tiny one settling on his dehydrated lips. You swing the door open, to which he stumbles a little, but gathers himself placing his backpack on the floor, the temporary weight off of him.

You close the door behind him, and see him lean against the wall, removing his shoes with heavy steps, not even bending down. You take in his detached presence, a frown settling on your face, your previous excitement sinking. Jungwon seems to sense this in your disappointed eyes. “Babe it’s movie night,” your exasperated voice brings him out of his thoughts, “you promised you’d buy popcorn from the store?” you ask him, looking down at his empty hands.

You see him take in a deep breath, his hands clenched into fists before he stretches them out. “Let’s do it another day,” he whispers emotionless, pushing past you as he heads towards the bathroom. You’re stunned by this, as despite the increasing distance between the two of you, he’d volunteered to at least continue with movie nights. At first you’d assumed the distance was because of work, like it always was, but unlike before, Jungwon didn’t come ranting back to you about what went wrong, instead he’d silently wash up and go to bed, no goodnights whispered, no kisses bestowed. It was almost like he didn’t love you anymore. You did consider the fact that you might be overthinking it all, but you’d heard of the 'three year rule', the exact stage you were with him at right now. It was hard keeping such insecurities aside when he barely communicated with you.

Him volunteering to make time for you through tonight’s movie night was what eventually broke you away from those thoughts, and you started bubbling with enthusiasm, looking forward to today after an entire week of planning. If after so many days, he couldn’t even care about popcorn, of course you’d feel as hurt as you currently do. Did it not matter to him at all? Was it just you who was so invested in this activity, or the relationship?

“Do you not love me anymore?” you voice out frustrated. You see him pause, his back that is towards you stiffens. He turns around and you see slow-moving teardrops rolling down his face, to which you’re taken aback. “Jungwon?” you hesitate.

“I really want to freshen up, please,” his voice breaks. You remain silent as you watch him walk away again, confused. You sit back down on the sofa, thinking about everything that could possibly be going on in his head.

You lay your head against the warm cushion and close your eyes. What made your usually patient boyfriend this upset? And what wasn’t he telling you? Did he not trust you anymore? It was now time for your head to be swirling with demoralising thoughts. You hear the door unlock, and open your eyes to see your boyfriend's puffy ones, his T-shirt patchy and wet, which you’re not sure is because of his tears or the shower. “Are you busy?” you ask softly, noticing his eyes shift. 

Jungwon felt guilty towards you, and he really didn’t mean to break down in front of you. Furthermore, the fact that you doubted your love meant that there were other underlying issues in your relationship, something he knew the cause for. For the past few weeks, when you’ve been trying to initiate conversation, Jungwon, too depressed and exhausted to say anything, ignored you unintentionally. He felt bad that his work was getting in the way of his love for you, something he promised you, and himself, would never happen. He knew he couldn’t ignore it any longer, and neither could you.

“Not really, I just don’t think I want to watch a movie right now,” he replies, knowing he didn’t have the mental capacity for the thrillers the two of you usually enjoyed.

“Let’s go for a walk then, I think we both need it.” an idea you throw at him, getting up and grabbing your overcoat. He follows you, this time grabbing his jacket and the correct shoes, a matching pair of Converse that he’d bought with you.

Before the two of you had officially started dating, he’d always notice you on his morning walks with Maeum, confident, and joyful, headphones on. From then on, he used your interactions with Maeum as an excuse to initiate conversations, which ended up with him taking you on an official date. Walks were symbolic in your relationship, a dedicated bonding event for the two of you, something you’d subconsciously agreed to. 

Like previous walks, you intended for this one to be just as meaningful, glancing at him in between steps. His tears had dried in the cold air, and his own steps, although still heavy, had become somewhat faster. His hands fiddled with the zip of his hoodie, opening and closing it rapidly, and his hair still wet, had drops seeping into his shirt every time he left it open. 

You realise how your steps become more rapid as you reach the park, the same one where you’d first met him. You weren’t excited per say, you just happened to walk with more urgency, a sense of foreboding settling in your heart. As your rushed steps get you farther away from him, you feel someone’s hold on your wrist. You look back and see his hand that had stopped fidgeting, gently held on to you. His eyes had softened, and he looked at you concerned. “Slow down love,” he says, breaking the silence that had been a bystander on this walk. He pulls you closer, interlacing your finger as you continue to walk at a slower pace until you reach a bench. Jungwon removes his jacket and places it on the bench, motioning for you to sit. Once he’s sat behind you, he looks at you properly, eyes observing every part of your face, following the noticeable question mark imprinted all over. 

“I love you y/n, and I’ve never stopped loving you,” he finally lets out, to which your brows furrow. A part of you is relieved, but also more frustrated, as contradictory as it sounds. You were relieved that he didn’t hate you, and that there was hope in the relationship, but more of you was upset at how his actions didn’t follow that, confused at what made him so disheartened. “Then why have you been so distant? What made you so upset, if not for me?” you ask.

He holds your hand again, taking a deep breath in, releasing a shaky sigh. “Honestly, I’m so exhausted. It’s work that’s got me feeling so muddled. It’s evidently my passion which makes me happy, but at the same time it demands so much of me that there’s none left for me to give to you, or to myself. The past few weeks have been hell, and today feels especially bad. It’s like nothing’s been going my way, starting from burnt breakfast, to the choreographers scolding me for holding everyone else back, to the confusion in the meetings. Everything just feels so burdensome, even though I’m used to it.” he reveals with no pause, letting everything out.

You gulp at this confession, a part of your heart breaking with every word coming out of his mouth. You hated seeing him like this: absolutely dejected. You knew better than everyone how hard he worked, and how hard he tried to make things easier for everyone, reducing their burden, which is why it hurts to see him bottling everything up within himself. You gently put his head on your shoulder, engulfing him in a hug as warm as you can gather. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper, “I didn’t know.”

You can feel him smile, and at the same time he sobs a little, tears now collecting on your coat. “It’s not your fault, I was being so selfish,” he replies in between breaths. You rub circles on his back, trying to ease his pain. You feel him relax in your arms and you sigh. “Jungwon, you know you can lean on me right? Please don’t keep things like this to yourself. Please trust me, so we can go through hardships like this together.” 

You hear a soft hmm against your shoulders. He looks back at you, once he’s done crying, and you wipe any tears settled on his cheeks. “How’d I get so lucky?” he whispers as he kisses your eyelids, when you realise that you’d shed a few tears too. You smile, as his lips eventually meet your own. “I’m sorry”s and “it’s okay”s are whispered in conjecture to “I love you”s in between the long kiss, until a dog disturbs the two of you by pawing on your legs. You laugh, and eventually get up. Jungwon stretches as he stands up, his hands thumping his back. “Does it hurt?” you ask concerned. “A little,” he replies shyly. 

“We should get back then, I’ll give you a massage,” you offer, taking his hand in yours. “Really?” he perks up at the thought, his voice becoming louder, as he gets more excited, a stark contrast to an hour ago when he entered home wearily. This time you’ll be going back home together, a sense of calm inhabiting the two of you, confident that it’ll be alright. 

---

[fractualized]

Alright. Let's break down this "oh" of an ending. NEGATIVE NANCY, COMING THROUGH

Spoilers, ho!

Ending a story is hard, if they're long or short. Whether you wrap up key threads or leave them open, you want some kind of takeaway that puts a period on things. Even in comics, where we know these characters will go on and on, ideally a story will end in a way that just... fits. Even amateur fic writers have loads of WIPs just sitting there because exactly how to end this damn thing eludes them.

I don't know if Rosenberg had an ending in mind when he started The Man Who Stopped Laughing. I don't know if he decided he'd figure it out by the end of it's year-long run. I don't know if DC Editorial lets people do that; it sounds insane, but if you've been paying attention to their current level of editorial "oversight," which I imagine is supposed to make concurrent titles mesh together reasonably well, I wouldn't be shocked if they let people wing it. Or, more likely, perhaps DC Editorial swooped in and made Rosenberg change the ending he had planned and that's why the result falls flat.

In any case, after 11 issues of enjoying myself, I'm left feeling deflated.

But let's start where #12 does, with the Joker who's been told he's John Keyser, a toxin'd henchmen that the real Joker made into a doppelganger for funsies. He approaches a hotdog vendor.

I'm stuck on "Hello. I've been looking for you"?? I didn't catch that on my first read. Joker has a favorite hotdog vendor? lol

Shut up, Waffles!! All we have is your word for it!!

In any case, hey, Keyser Joker has already been Jokering this long, so yeah, why not keep going? And why not with help from poor woobie Jason, fresh from nearly getting himself killed in Gotham War?

Bruce did not fix Jason at the end of Gotham War, so his adrenaline is still triggering fear in his brain. But Keyser Joker has a solution for that!

It's a tiny dose of Joker toxin to take the edge off of Bruce's programming. Joker makes a point of saying that the effects are only temporary, though. (And like, I assume this is just the quick-fix solution Rosenberg came up with to pull off his own ending when told Bruce's plans for Jason over in the other titles.) Jason is skeptical of this "help," naturally, but Keyser Joker brings up their matching interest: getting rid of the other Joker.

Jason, why you gotta ruin Albert's good time? 🙄

Cut to Red Hood dragging a clown henchman through the streets of Gotham.

But "his" face being blacked out and some of the dialogue clue the reader in: things aren't what they seem.

DERAIL TIME: what is up with this batmobile?

Like from some other angles, it looks sportier, but in most of the panels it looks like an old Buick? lol ANYWAY.

With the flaily way this person jumps off the bike and runs, I was sure that this was Keyser Joker and we might see Batman interact with him. Alas.

It's Ravager, who survived last issue's explosion. She's helping Jason 1) distract Batman and 2) get Albert out of harm's way, far from Keyser Joker's plan.

Naturally Keyser Joker is planning something more destructive than he's led Jason to believe. Also like…

The idea that Keyser Joker really is this John guy, not the real deal, is still not sitting fucking right with me. Seeing him here in another costume, with a goofy death train with mismatched eyes just like his, it feels like a signal that he actually is Joker and Waffles is either lying or mistaken somehow. Like compared to the other Joker, who we haven't seen in a costume? Who left Gotham for weird reasons? I really thought there was going to be a reverse reveal.

And since it doesn't come, I guess it's a good time to mention that! There is no reverse reveal of who the real Joker is. Things get a little muddy later, but…. hrm. HRM.

That said, the other Joker does something pretty dang Jokery: he shows up in a dirigible with his face on it.

Killer Moth and a bunch of clown goons (that aren't supposed to be available because of Gotham War but WHATEVER) attach the dirigible to the train and it's pretty chaotic!

I love when villains are like, "Look I may kill people, but an endangered gorilla?! Get outta here!" 😂

Jason also arrives in style.

I guess he was observing Ravager's distraction?? Which feels like it defeats part of the purpose of having her do the distraction. But then he couldn't have this cool entrance in which he bludgeons people with a motorcycle. Trade offs!

Meanwhile, Real Joker makes it to the front of the train to confront Keyser Joker. One of Real's goons offers to shoot Keyser, but Real Joker wants to make this personal and kills the poor hench so he can do it himself.

Jason coming in like YEEEEEAAAAHHHHH 😎

Then he gets the bad news.

Keyser is as casually suicidal as your average Joker! Also "Real" Joker never acknowledges Red Hood's identity, afaik. It's always Keyser Joker. Details like this got me thinking that reverse reveal was coming, AND YET.

That aside, next comes a fun comedy beat.

Real Joker going right for the hair!

Jason isn't going to let this be the end of it, of course, and once again Killer Moth must suffer at his hands.

Jason shoots so many clowns. Just never the one he wants. 😞

Waaaaaaaaaaaaaait wait wait. You're telling me that Bruce knew about the imminent TWO JOKERS situation. But he decided to prioritize a report of Red Hood dragging a clown through the streets. When in the same breath he's saying there are other people coming to the scene with him, so he obviously could've sent someone else? On the same day Batman #139 is like "oooh Bruce is totally onto Joker now"? This is what you're telling me?? Augh.

Well, we can't rely on Batman right now, clearly, so it's up to Jason.

Meanwhile, Keyser Joker has told the other one that he actually does have a secret way off the runaway train safely. After they fight some more, the tune starts to change.

Alright so, this "deal," which would sort of start them back at square one, doesn't bother me because obviously it's on shaky-ass ground and one of them is definitely killing the other before this issue is over. What does bug me is the "franchising" line, for two reasons:

1) Is this supposed to imply that Real Joker is the one who was behind Joker Incorporated in the Batman Incorporated issues, not a third one?

2) I was just SO SURE it was another indication we were getting a reverse reveal. Joker absolutely does not love the franchising idea. That's kind of been the point of this whole series. The genuine Joker in Keyser Joker's hallucination/memory said that having two Jokers around is stupid. HRRRRMMM.

Anyhow, they leave the train together, though the escape plan is literally just jumping off, which has more issues than they bargained for.

So do you think, assuming the Gotham War writers actually communicated at least a little, that Zdarsky asked Rosenberg what he needed Jason for at the end of TMWSL, and Rosenberg was like, "oh I need him to heroically crash a toxic blimp and almost die?" And then Zdarsky was like, "er, I need him to heroically fly a plane into a magic meteor and almost die?" And then they just shrugged and closed the Zoom?

But yeah, the blimp crashes, and I'm sort of confused because I thought that earlier Bruce was saying that even if the toxin gets into the water, it'll still make it's way to the city. So for one thing, it's still exploding in the air and it's still gonna drift. And the parts that dissolve in water are still gonna drift. There's a part to the equation missing here.

But these two are just thrilled at the excitement.

Until the sudden yet inevitable betrayal.

BUT WHO WAS JOKE

Shortly after this, Ravager shows up with Manhunter, who also survived last issue's explosion. (It just doesn't come up at all. Like it doesn't have to, I guess, but it's just weird that there's not a word or wound about it.) Ravager dives into the water looking for Jason, because she instinctually knows he did something grand and dumb. She finds him among the clown bodies and brings him to shore.

Nothing can kill this man! He came back from the dead with nine lives! And also maybe that Lazarus resin from TFZ is still helping, I dunno.

Elsewhere along the shore, what's left of both Jokers' crews find themselves waiting in the same spot for the Joker they expect to be triumphant.

You know what. I'm soured on Waffles now. Leave him.

And then, from the water…

And that's it. That's how it ends. With a sort of snide cop-out?

Like, it's Joker's POV, so yeah, you could say the dickish tone is just him. But following this story for a year, and then seeing it end with simply the old "you'll never know which Joker prevailed," it doesn't feel clever or whatever this is going for. It just feels obnoxious.

Honestly, it feels like the same takeaway as freaking Three Jokers. 😐 That it doesn't matter who Joker is. All the lead-up to this, where maybe we get a tiny bit of depth and development, even if just in this story, eh. Doesn't matter! We're ending this with blah payoff.

On the other hand, the part of about about there being more questions, about this ending not being tidy, makes me think that this is leaving open the possibility that Keyser Joker actually was the real one. After all, we don't get a flashback to the actual events. The events we see are part of a hallucination, and Keyser never said he had clear memories of being the real or the fake one. He just went from assuming he was the real one to taking Waffles' word for it that he was the henchman.

Also, Keyser Joker was always the Joker giving narration. And the narration boxes for the Final Joker at the end remain in his style. So it seems like we actually have a huge indication of which Joker prevailed-- unless we're meant to assume that if the other Joker prevailed, he merely took over the narration.

I mean, this is what we have. So if I can just choose what I want to believe, I'm going to believe both that Keyser was actually the real guy and that he won. But it puts a real sour taste in my mouth to be super engaged with a story and wanting an ending that says something about Joker's character… and the ending is just that one murders the other and you don't know who, neener neener. It's anticlimactic. It's a predictable direction that I thought SURELY Rosenberg wouldn't go in. It feels like a dick move.

And... what else is there to say? So ends my year of consistently buying a comic, I guess. Nothing else has really grabbed me like TMWSL did, though City of Madness looks promising. After the multiverse and Gotham War stuff, I'm not about to start picking up Zdarsky's Batman. #139 had plenty I should enjoy, but it's soured by Zdarsky deciding to bring a canonical take to the three Jokers concept for some ungodly reason.

A new three Jokers take feels extra stupid after a year of a story about two Jokers. And the second Joker in TMWSL isn't even taken into account in Zdarsky's story. Based off that #135 scene, it really looks like he's going to say that Darwin Halliday accidentally copied TKJ Joker somehow. lmao Why. Why do we have to do this. Why can't this just be one of the things that gets retconned away. I just want my murderclown to be fun.

I need to get back to my list of unread older comics. Or read One Operation Joker! I didn't think I was interested, but I think a random goofy premise is actually just what I need.