#its just a lot of ideas mixed together but maybe i'll make something else of it

[just-a-silly-boy]

oooo tell about your jager au

Jager au?

Oh Nonny... the fandom already hates me for the good amont of controversial hc i have, but okay. First let me tell I dont ship them romantically, it is more like a platonic disturbed and messed up friendship.

My au is a post-island/adult au going by lines of police investigation and thriller plot. We have a little flashback of the boys during the rescue from the island, just little kids too scared to even think right of everything that happened to them and of what they had done. Somewhere in the back of their heads they still fear something faceless and dark that haunt them, if it is their own memories or what they called beast, none of them want to talk about it. They made a vote of not talking about it. They were kids too afraid to face the reality.

About 10 years after the end of the war a memorial was built up to remember all those who has died. And this memorial brought back the memories of that island. Jack, over the past years had struggled with the guilt of his acts (specially after finding that two of the former hunters are already dead - presumably suicide). So he tried to reach all the other island boys, the hunters and finally Ralph. He found and talked with almost all the former choir boys, but he cant find Roger, and Jack methodical as he is, he doesnt want to talk to Ralph before finding Roger. But they lost touch somewhere in the past and now Jack feels like Roger is purposely avoiding him.

When he finally found track of Roger he had also found some other weird facts about the other island boys that he havent payed much atention before and it seems like more of them had died or been missing through the past few years. Finally meeting Roger, things doesnt go too well either. Roger tells Jack how he doesnt want to think of that (the island) again. He had took his meds, he had disappeared from Jack's life because he knews that was the better for both of them...

"Why are you trying to bring all that back now?"

So that is when things starts to get really personal between them... because, well, back then during their return from the island they had made a promise to one another. A promise Jack thought Roger had forgot. But he didnt.

...

But I'm not telling more because I dont have everything planned yet...

😇

[katsurinssims]

Katsu's alternative Afterglow Palette

as I mentioned in my last post, I made a lil alternative hair colour palette. Before I got into Afterglow, I really wanted to try out @0201-sims VK actions, as I love the idea of a visual kei inspired hair colour pallete. But I got into afterglow, so forgot about it for a while! Then when I was ill and making a bunch of sims and downloading a bunch of CC recently, I thought that I wished I had a secondary family of naturals to chose from, as when I was using Pooklet's colours I used 2, one being what my DRs were in, and the other being just another option. So I tried out the VK actions, but wasn't 100% happy with how some of them looked on Afterglow textures. Afterglow has a subtle, silky shine (which is what converted me, aha) that can easily become flat looking with certain colour actions applied- so I trialed some other colours I like and this is what I came up with!

The colours and why I chose them:

It's a mix of Cassis' VK actions and @digisims2 Ephemera Inspired Color actions. Cassis' Aliene is a much cooler (as in cooler tone) and slightly more unnatural, alternative looking black than Poppet's, which fits well with the Vkei theme. I knew I wanted cooler, but the green undertones are really striking! Basier is used as the red rather than the brown, its the main one I wanted as it reminded me of when I was a teenager and took a picture of Hizaki to the hairdresser as a reference photo. I suppose you could call it a strawberry-esque colour, its very fun. For blond and brown I picked out a couple of Digi's Ephemera colours that were dissimilar from the colours already included in afterglow naturals, and Digi's always been an inspiration for me in my CC making journey, as well as Ephemera, so it seemed only fitting. The main idea I wanted to get accross with the main 4 colours is hair that has clearly been dyed, but in natural types of colours, maybe for alternative types of sims, aha. For the grey I knew I wanted something richer and warmer, so went with @blackswan-sims Pipe Bomb x Finade mix, which I have had saved by for a while because it intrigued me so much! Finally I'm adding just one unnatural because I missed having a bright pink option, and this was the hardest to pick out. I went through a lot of options before landing on ol' reliable @pooklet, in Pentolite. It's warm but not too red, and doesn't blast out all the subtle detail. So yea, the main purpose of this alternative selection is to suit my game with a lot of late 90s FRUiTS and other Japanese street style inspired fashion ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

That may be too much information/explaination on my choices there, I'm mainly just excited to show you all these colours!

As much as I just picked these out because I liked and wanted to use them, anyone else is welcome to try this alt palette; but I don't expect others to like or use them, or for them to be a norm amongst afterglow creators. Besides these being maybe a bit of an odd choice- having one family of naturals makes CC creation easier, cuts down on the size of your downloads folder, and keeps your bodyshop neat! Nothing wrong with that, I'm just someone who's a lil over the top with these types of things I suppose, aha.

If you do want to use them, I'm uploading them as a set of actions for PS:

Download my Afterglow Alternative Palette actions

I didn't alter the original creators actions at all, just bundled them together- which means they may not work on all versions of Photoshop. I've included individual swatches in the file with the creators names so they can be found easily!

Intended to be run over Afterglow but would work on any volatile base. Check @the-afterglow-archive for more Afterglow ₊˚⊹♡

I'll be posting anything I make with these colours to this tag!

[souleaterpostanime]

Is your music all digitally composed or is it acoustic and you record? Curious about your process.

I use Ableton Live to mix and compose everything, but depending on the track I use both digital/virtual sounds and real instruments, either recorded through my microphone (connected to an usb interface), electric guitar and bass I sometimes recore directly by connecting through the input cable, and sometimes I just sample random phone recordings I do.

But yeah it depends on the song - like for "Amber Chamber Theme" it was mostly directly recording from a keyboard I had avaible at the moment, then using pitch shifted or otherwise manipulated vocals at some parts.

For "The Gal that fell out of da sun" I just mostly recorded everything with my microphone connected to a preamp and usb interface - so it was all acoustic guitar, vocals and just hitting random things for drums😂. On it I used the Guitarrig plugin to give it the sound of guitar pedals, but I actually like to use that on a lot of shit, can give audio tracks easy effects that sound good atleast to my own ears.

So yeah, dunno if this is coherent or just too rambely, but in short - it depends, but at the end I basically use Ableton either way - I think many years ago I tried Fruity Loops, didnt know what I was doing and quit😂 Then some classmate recomended Ableton and I sticked with that. Maybe I'll try something else in the future.

Oh, and if you ment my process in a more abstract way, like composing or the idea for a song - for the last few tracks it was mostly the idea of fitting with the whole desert/western theme, so I would either noodle with a guitar to find a sound I like, or think of a fitting genre that I could parody that would fit. Sometimes I kinda come up with some lyricsl Idea first but yeah. But other items I just fuck around in Ableton till I see something comes together, that maybe if everyone else thinks sounds horrible, I like😂

And yeah lyrics I'll admit was one factor were I'm kinda lazy on this "project" - sometimes I try to write down some, but mostly I go of the dome and even sometimes mumble in a way with it not even making sense (other times I know I said something but cant make it out anymore, like in the Phonk song I did, but I guess thats the point)

I justify it by saying that the orignal anime had a lot of broken english so its just fitting with the theme😂. But maybe I'm too harsh, some of the lyrics were pretty planned out and do have a lot of consious meaning. Like one of my older songs which was like a parody of one of Ye's tracks from "808's and heartbreaks" were it was supposed to be from Kids perspective in a pathetic emo rap autotune voice lamenting how "now even 8's I hate, two circles with no escape"😱💀

So yeah, dunno, wrote a lot more than anyone probably asked for. Could probably say more, but I'll leave that for other asks.

[mitziholder]

I was catching the perfectionism vibes, it's shame if it hinders your progress. Your characters and style seem so cool so I wanted to probe. Comics really are a marathon to create. Losing steam is natural and maybe switching up your conception of your project can help. Not trying to pressure you in any way, just hoping to provide some food for thought.

How do you feel about comics as a medium? You mentioned you mostly "skim" comics for inspiration and love Wimmen's Comix but is it a medium you feel very connected to in general and for your story idea?

I've seen multiple webcomic artists unfortunately struggle with the labor needed for drawing panels and incorporating prose along with art and regular comic panels to maintain progress. If you are more into writing than drawing, maybe incorporating prose along with comics/art is an option you'd be interested in. Don't have the best examples but thinking of Homestuck's long script-format convos that follow panels. And for a comic that later incorporated prose, the webcomic Paranatural went from all comic panels to mixing prose and art. I'll be honest that I stopped reading Paranatural as a teen before the shift so I can't speak to its writing/art quality.

“skimming” was a little disingenuous. I have read a lot of comics, but very rarely have I felt that they fully utilized the affordances of the medium. the reasons for this vary; comics are plagued by many issues deriving from the fact that they were, at one point, both extremely popular and cheap (low-brow) - kneecapped by the CCA and warped into something stupid and trivial for children. even today, that perception remains. I would say the majority of people aren’t capable of recognizing comics as a mature medium. lots of comic writers have a chip on their shoulder about this… particularly Alan Moore.

I bring him up because Watchmen was one of the first pieces of media that really opened my eyes as to what comics were capable of as a graphic medium; people regularly recognize the visual artistry of film, the (often) invisible work done in blocking, cinematography, effects, and editing that makes movies feel like art. comics should be art. every frame should be a painting. panels should fit together into a larger picture composed with thought and care. Dan Gibbons did so - with regard not only for how panels fit next to each other but also for how they fit within the page and the page within the chapter and so on… rich with detail, of equal weight to the dialogue in conveying narrative and thematic meaning. it amazed me because of how little the art actually matters in so many comics, only there by obligation (because without art it would no longer be a comic). why is this? I don’t know. profit? but you see it in indie comics, too. that part confuses me. why would you make something if you don’t want it to be good? what’s the point?

anyway, I found that the story I wanted to tell would not fit within the bounds of a stage play. it has continually resisted (with some notoriety on this blog) my attempts to fit it into prose. the dialogue is what moves it, and with my sort of shaky aptitude for art and love of the medium’s potential, I felt that making it a comic was the natural choice. I don’t particularly enjoy the process of drawing, but without art I felt something was missing - a void that couldn’t be filled by anything else. I never wanted it to give the impression that the art was done by rote, incidental/inconsequential, a pure and thoughtless representation of the dialogue… but that is sort of what it has to be at this point. I wish that integrating the visual half came more naturally to me, but I’ve accepted that it’s a skill I’m going to have to hone with much practice. it’s something I’ve struggled with quite a bit as someone who is borderline aphantasic. very little of the art that I make comes directly from my brain. it is not intuitive to me at all. I am so reliant on references, have no imagination, am very rarely struck with the idea for a bit of visual humor or detail that adds meaning rather than merely visualizing the existing script - the words. I am obsessed with words, clearly. meaning and rhythm and punctuation. I’m a word person. I want to be an art person. I want so baaaadly for my work to be good. I try so hard.

I’m often tempted to throw in the towel and admit that my brain doesn’t work that way - that I’m aiming too high, stubbornly set on something I can never really have - not to an extent that I’m satisfied with. but if I gave in to that feeling, I would never finish anything. I feel like once I am done with my classes and my living situation is more stable, I’ll be sort of okay - or at least more consistent - when it comes to the art stuff... worst-case scenario, I cave and go the homestuck route (which is not something I thought I’d ever say). I don’t know. we’ll have to see. once this semester is over...😮‍💨

[alrightrandy]

new year, new plans

what's this? a geniune alrightrandy blog post that isn't just random slop? …finally.

all jokes aside, i'm well aware that i haven't necessarily been ultilizing this site – as well as other platforms im on, as much as i wanted to. however, considering the new year has just begun i believe it's time to make some form of change around here.

i just want to preface this by saying that, all through out last year, i've ran myself into some personal turmoil that led me to essentially lack any sort of focus to work on any hobbies. it's hard to explain, i feel like i have done a lot but at the same time i clearly didn't have much creative output as much as i wanted to. and again, it didn't help that i was also juggling with stuff in my personal life too.

i guess the point i'm trying to make across here is that, i haven't properly found a right balance for myself, both creatively and irl-wise. and i certainly didn't have a proper sense of direction either… but i'm hoping to change that this year!

through out the end of 2023 up until the mid january, i've went through a pretty prolific event that kind of sparked a slew of motivation and plans to really get myself back.

in summary, around the holidays a phone of mine completely bricked itself for some random reason, making it practically inaccessible for me to use. and keep in mind, i'm still saving up to get myself a laptop, so i really had no other personal devices besides that phone.

thankfully, i did manage to get a new one – however, the point is that me being phone-less for a brief moment was very "humbling" for me. not only it was the only device for communication and having a creative outlet, but it just goes to show nothing should be taken for granted. ANYTHING can be lost in a matter of seconds, a simple reminder that i really needed to get myself together.

and with that, everything brings me to here. i've somewhat finally came up with a plan to hopefully boost some motivation within me, and also have a better commitment to my creative output.

to get the obvious stuff out of the way, in reguards of my youtube channel – as well as anything reguarding about dj'ing and music. i am going to try my best to put a heavier focus on these since its something i'm still a complete beginner at. it's a new hobby i've recently picked up, and it only makes sense for me to try to lean onto it a bit more. matter in fact...

i just recently put out something onto my channel!

i'm going try to put out at least one mini mix on a monthly (or bi-monthly) basis. hopefully it will not only expand my portfolio as a dj, but i geniunely think this could help with my issues with commiting to something. plus, i think it would definitely bring in some life to my channel since i still have no clue what direction i want to take it in.

don't get it twisted, i still want to experiment with all sorts of different types of videos. however, i can't make any promises if any of it will reach the light of day. at least with these mini mixes, they will hopefully still appear consistently even if i have nothing else to upload. idk, i think its a decent enough idea to sink time into.

now, reguarding everything about creating artwork and ultilizing my platforms. it's still somewhat uncertain, however if you checked my pinned post i have recently updated it with new sites you can check me out on!

but in short, i will also try to branch out more and maybe even network myself to finding ppl / communities. and along the way, i will also try to get back into creating art since i really have been putting that on the back burner. again, no promises but i have been putting some thought into it! (i'm looking at you Newgrounds and Bluesky…)

i'm reaching my text limit, so this is all i have for now. i'll catch you guys on the flipside, i really do hope i do better this year. knock me out if this post ages horribly lol

happy 2024!

~🐇

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary119

1/10-11/2024

wednesday - thursday

missed my friend's birthday today.

cuz i was sick. my gf went though (i hope i didn't spread through her (but probably)). i think he had a good time, my friend, and my gf had a good time with them all. it means a lot to me that she can go hang out with them and not be like, uncomfortable, there's people there who talk to her and value her thoughts and company and treat her like a human. this shouldn't be special, but it is. obviously, there's also guys there who aren't awful but are mostly among dudes. they treat me like an in-between thing i guess, when i'm around. something about that is gratifying to see written out, in-between thing, but idk, i feel more allied with the side that isn't those guys, than them. those guys also treat our transmasc friend weird as well. they treat me less weird than him because i'm older to the friendgroup, and our friend whose birthday it was, he's the one who brings us all together, i'm very vvery close with him. they don't treat our transmasc friend horribly weird, but still. i'm really only talking about like...4 of a group of over 10. these ones are the super weedbro contingent. idk though, i really like everyone basically. only one guy bothers me and he just treats everyone weird.

having fun waiting for ableton to open after it just crashed after opening.

i feel like i can at fix some of a problem with the one song i got to today, the mix for this one just seems very hard to get to the bottom of, something seems very wrong with it but i don't know what. it's, in my mind, right now, the vocals, they're muddy and dark, and idk what i am doing wrong, so i'm gonna try and use a vocal group from another song and slot the takes into that, using that fx chain. maybe that will help clear it up, but i'm worried the issue is these takes themselves.

i hope this works. what else did i do,

i did get that drum idea down, i think, or something like it, an evolution of that, really happy about that. i hope this song comes out right on export, it's such a weird pain.

another weird pain today, but i won't go into it, because it's basically pathetic. there's just certain things that i'll end up seeing if i go on twitter and it makes me go kind of crazy. i don't know why that kind of thing is like basically a trigger for me. why is that a potential trigger, seeing people going crazy on something meaningless because they are miserable, it should be able to pass through me and be nothing, but i can't deal, it makes me feel bad and like i need to escape, it's also a place where i see people with such vehement opinions about bodies basically, or that's what i saw today, that it makes me question what i am/if i even belong to any kind of community or whatever. being so online really only increased my alienation towards larger groups. some people are so joyful in spreading what is basically a kind of super negative method of self appraisal and seeing oneself in the world, they hide behind it being some kind of hard truth, it's so ugly though. i wish people stopped spreading stuff from /lgbt/ basically, the whole worldview it basically has developed/allowed to fester. it's seriously so awful and people kind of bandy it/its language about like it makes you cool in some kind of edgy way.

it's always profound how lame everyone ends up being, on the other end of the sludge-spew.

anyways, the thing exported, i'll listen tomorrow, maybe i'll be a better judge then. currently i'm just thinking about how this funny is now:

every tiime i clicked on one of these because it seemed utterly psychotic, it reminded me of being in a hospital waiting room, seeing people there for reasons i could not imagine, doing insane things, fluorescent nausea. why was every one of them so sexualized too, did any regular blogger ever do those things.

anyway i am super tired and i stayed up way tooooo late.

so

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[shakespearesdrugdealer]

Just friends

Minors DNI.

Pairings: College AU. College!Gojo x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (fingering), swearing, is fluff a warning?

A/N: Okayy, so this a college AU with a friends with benefits dynamic. I wanted to make this a slow burn so I'll see where it leads lol.

Enjoy!

He was kissing your neck and you were adjusting yourself under him to allow him to move further down. He didn’t smell like himself; his cologne was mixed with someone else’s. You were supposed to be okay with that though, because you guys were just friends after all. You were there for each other while doing homework, working on labs together, going bowling on the weekends, grabbing coffee and when the teenage hormonal urge came to indulge in each other’s body; well, a month ago you agreed to that too.

“Look, despite the movies, I think it could work,” Gojo proposed.

“What makes you think that?” you narrow your eyes at him from across the lab counter you guys were sitting at, trying to compile a report you messed up twice by now.

Chemistry was hard. But Gojo was making it harder for both of you right now by asking unnecessary questions to push a few boundaries in your friendship.

“The fact that you are pretty objective, and that we are both have needs,” he said, adding a playful drawl on the last word.

“No,” you pointed out firmly, hesitating to meet the eyes that were set at looking into yours. “You have needs, I on the other hand would like to finish this report and go to sleep.”

“See, that could easily be turned into a better end to your day if you go to sleep with me,” he countered, putting his hand on the calculator you were punching numbers into; forcing you to lift your head up and look at him with a frustrated but amused expression.

“Is this really the time to talk about this?” you huffed, trying to free your hand while trying hard and failing at controlling the heat spreading to your face.

“No time better than the present lovie.”

“Not your lovie,” you emphasized, sitting back onto your chair and giving up at the notion of finishing your lab. When Gojo is being stubborn about something, there were not a lot of ways to solve the problem but give in and listen; like right now, with his absurd idea.

But was it really absurd though? You guys have been friends for a good while now, 2 years to be exact. You liked how he could go on for ages talking about the ridiculous things he did at college that day and you wouldn’t mind listening because it allowed you to see the day outside of your own world. Maybe it was because your life lacked a little chaos and his lacked the calm and organization of yours; but you worked well with each other. He dragged you out of the dorm on days you got obsessed with completing your readings and you were grateful for the sun that you got. You also dragged him back into the dorm on nights you knew were meant for rest, or studying instead of getting wasted with the kids who had already completed their tests for that week.

“Look, all I’m saying is, let’s try it out, and if it fails…” he stretched out of his chair like he was doing some kind of tedious work (like the fucking report you guys were supposed to write). “Well, at least we will know where that road leads to.”

His standing figure made you look so small you wanted to punch him in the throat. But you also felt safe?

It’s not like you were completely against the idea. I mean, you knew him pretty well; you knew what kind of a person he was. You understood that he makes a great friend, but he would probably break your heart and chuck it in the bag of broken hearts he carries around with him. And let’s not lie, he’s hot. You’ve seen how his shirt rides up when he leans back against the pillows on your bed on the days he drops by your dorm to annoy you. You also hate how you can’t stop yourself from staring at how his eyes widen and sparkle when he finds something interesting in the material he’s reading when you guys are studying together. You knew there was a thin line between being his friend, working well together, him being so fucking attractive and you falling in love with him, God forbid.

Well, maybe you could walk that thin line. “If we fail, we never talk about it again okay?” you started, framing the rules of your relationship in your head.

“Yup,” he agreed, liking where this conversation was headed.

“There are going to be rules of course.”

“Mhhm.”

“No talk of this outside the two of us.” You look at him dead serious.

“Yep yep.”

“And you have to stop being so fucking annoying when we do what we do,” you added.

“Meh, no promises,” he shrugged.

“Okay, well, it looks like we’ve come to some kind of an agreement even though this report is not done,” you sighed closing your book at the realization that the time you signed up for the lab had elapsed.

“Hey,” Gojo said, clearing his throat. Was he nervous? You glanced at him while trying to gather your things into your bag.

“Do you wanna test the agreement?”

“What?” you pause your actions at the offer. “Now?”

“I mean, I see nothing stopping us,” he reasoned. “And we can finish the report at the dorm too.”

“How do you plan for these bribes to work with me?” you smile at his offer to work in exchange of doing the dirty.

“What can I say lovie, I’m a bit of a genius when it comes to being a slut.” Only Gojo could imbue so much confidence into being a slut.

“Again,” you said, “not your lovie.” You push your bag into his chest as a sign of agreement and head towards the lab door. He caught up with you in no time, cradling your bag in his arms and smiling stupidly wide like he won at an arcade game at the fair. You didn’t know if what was going to follow was a disaster or the start of something better than anything you two ever knew.

He didn’t even wait for you guys to settle into your room or talk about how your relationship was going to work before throwing your bag onto the bed and backing you up against your door and pressing his lips against yours to let you know how the next few hours of your day were going to go. And oh my god, they were going to go so fucking good.

“Is this okay?” he asked, pulling away from your lips and twisting the lock on your door with his free hand.

“Yeah,” you squeaked, embarrassed and a little confused at how quickly this day was taking a whole new turn.

“Wanna say that again?” he teased swiping his thumb across your cheek while tilting your head to look at you properly.

“Just-” you swallowed. You’ve never seen his eyes look like this, even after all this time with him. They had their usual playful glint in them, the kind that normally makes you want to shove him through a locker (not that you haven’t tried) but right now there was something more. Something that made you want to run but also give into his touch and the patterns he was drawing on the small of your back with his other hand. “Just…take it slow okay?” you ask, hoping he understood that you hadn’t done something like this in a while now.

He knew that though. You talked about your first times over a drunk Friday evening and that was when he figured you hadn’t done as much as him and you also figured that Gojo was a threat to womankind.

“Yeah, I know,” he replied, taking your hands into his and leading you towards the bed. His eyes never left yours and you weren’t done tasting his lips just yet, so you stare at them with unabashed desire. “Oh, my eyes are up here love,” he said, pausing his movements to take in this side of you he hadn’t seen before.

“Shut up,” you retort, a little annoyed at how quickly he had you feeling so hot and bothered. You wrap your arms around his neck and stand on your tippy-toes to pull him down to meet your lips as he groans into the kiss in surprise. You don’t know what it was that got into you, but you pushed him to walk to the edge of the bed as your tugged at the hem of his shirt to let him know you wanted it on the floor. He was breathing hard too by this point; his hand cupping your neck and the other finding its way under your shirt. He laughs at your attempt to lift his shirt and removes his hands from your body for a moment to take his shirt off. Your eyes widen at the view you were presented with. Your hands reach for his chest but he grabs your wrists, tilting his head in amusement. “Kinda unfair if yours doesn’t come off too no?”

And that’s how you found his hands slipping under your shirt and around your back, leaving goosebumps at his touch. He unhooked your bra and lifted the set of clothing from your body, leaving you hazy from all the kisses that he was planting along your jawline and neck. He pulled your hands that were stroking his chest to interlock with his fingers as he used your momentary confusion to push you onto your bed and hover over you in one clumsy but simultaneously smooth maneuver.

He was reveling in this side of you that you were showing. It was chaotic, it was vulnerable and most of all, it was so beautiful. His hands release yours as he finds interest in playing with your breasts. He takes hold of your left breast and squeezes it as you whine and twist your head into the pillows at his teasing and the lack of attention that was being paid to your areas down south. You pull at the white strands of his hair you had slid your fingers into and he groans into your skin making you shudder. He opens his lips to the side of your neck that you gave space to and bites down as a response to your own roughness. The moan that escapes your mouth makes you want to hide in embarrassment as he chuckles into the mark he was leaving.

Your chest was heaving, as your hands grab at the sheets next to you instead to find some kind of stability among the fireworks that his touch was leaving. “Gojo-” you started, lifting your head from the pillow, to see him smirking at you. He moves down towards your stomach and thighs, making sure to kiss the curves and edges and taking note of the areas he kissed and you moaned at. “I will kill you if you don’t stop teasing.” You drop back onto the pillow again, not being able to hold for too long as his fingers stroke your inner thighs, taking off the last article of clothing you had on.

He leans forward, looking at you with your eyes fluttering shut and fidgeting around his hold on you. “Aw, cute,” he says, stroking your thighs and brushing his fingertips around your clit, not touching it but making it more sensitive than you would have ever imagined. “You can still threaten me looking like this.” You push your head deeper into the pillows at the sensation of the butterfly kisses he was placing on your inner thighs and sucking at the sensitive skin to leave his marks yet again.

“I swear to God-” you plead, threading your hands into his hair again. “Patience, pretty,” he says, lifting his head from between your legs to allow his fingers to take their place and rub at your clit in tiny circles. You gasp and have the urge to shut your legs but he has one of his legs secured between yours and you really wanted him to keep going too. “Think you’re ready for me?” he asks, running his index and middle finger along the outer area of your slits.

you nod at him, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth. You were getting hazy from circles he was drawing on your clit with his middle finger and moving it down to tease your entrance.

“Words, love,” he says, shifting to lean above you and place a kiss to your lips and chest that was heaving roughly by now.

“I-I’m ready,” you softly reply, looking into his eyes and then at his smile that reminded you that he was your safety and also the person that was going to ruin in the next few minutes.

“Tell me to stop when you want to okay?” He assures you as he slides his fingers between your slits to feel your wetness.

“Mhmm,” is all you can say as you feel his middle finger play around your entrance before finding its way against your walls. You breathe sharply at the feeling of his finger pulling in and out slowly, to explore its way around you. But it was also making you so hot-headed as it hit all the right corners and spaces. He swallows your moans with his lips and tries to steady your body by sucking at your nipples. But it only made your head cloudier and you let go of any control of the sounds that were coming out of you.

Your back arches with an audible whimper escaping your chest at Gojo’s attempt to curl his finger against your walls and he smirks, knowing what he just did. He continues the curling motions and tests your limit by nudging a second finger at your entrance. You yelp at the tight feeling of your walls against his fingers. “Fuck,” you spread your legs wider as a sign of giving in to his movements completely. He was entranced by the pretty sounds coming out of you and the way your hips were moving up and down his fingers trying to chase the knot that was tightening at the bottom of your stomach.

He speeds up the movements of his fingers, moving in and out of you. You let out soft cries at how he wasn’t letting you get a moment of rest between the feeling of his mouth against the sensitive spots on your neck and breasts mixed with the madness that was occurring between your legs. “Gojo, I can’t-” you say in a shaky cry at the way your walls were tightening against his fingers. He pushes you further with his thumb rubbing faster against your clit and you just about lose it, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and a strangled moan leaving your lips

“Hey pretty girl, wanna let go for me?” he whispers as he looks at your desperate eyes. You nod feverishly as he continues his motions, and he hoists one of your legs further apart to rest on his lap. You feel the knot in your stomach getting tighter and the tingling on your clit getting borderline painful. You snap your palm on Gojo’s wrist trying to fight the feeling but he doesn’t relent. And with the next few motions of his fingers curling against you while he bit into your neck a little too rough, you let out a strangled shriek and arch your back as your walls pulsate around his fingers at your orgasm.

He drank in the sight of you panting and your legs shaking from the orgasm. Your eyes were pinched shut and one of your hands had the sheets tightly tucked into your fist and the other was squeezing his wrist that was still pumping his fingers in and out of you to help you ride out your orgasm. He leans forward, in awe and with sense of adoration.

“You good?” he kissed the corner of your mouth and brushed the stray pieces of hair on the sides of your face to place more chaste kisses across your cheeks and moving to your neck. You hiss as he takes his fingers out of you and you are given an apology as he muffles your complaints with his lips pressing against yours. Your eyes flutter open, glancing at Gojo’s now tight pants. You smirk and shift to balance your figure on your elbows to meet his eyes.

You nod at the bulge through his pants. “Do you wanna do something about that or…?” you question reaching out to place your hands against his chest, and push him into sitting back onto the bed as you straddle him.

“I mean…if you can take it,” he laughs, pressing his forehead against yours, and squeezing your hips.

God, this may be a huge mistake or one of the greatest things you guys stumbled upon with each other.

A/N: This is my first attempt at smut so help me oh lords of smut; I hope I didn’t it mess up lol. I also really like this college AU so maybe I’ll continue it, idk.

Alsoo, the header I used here was got from pinterest but if it has sources to someone here on Tumblr, I would love to credit <3

[greenygreenland]

Dream A Little Dream Of Me: Norman x Reader

-MANGA SPOILERS! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! 

-NOTE: YOU’RE BOTH AGED UP SO DON’T START TELLING ME FBI’S GONNA COME TO MY DOOR 😂😂

-THE TIMELINE IS A BIT MESSED UP SO JUST IGNORE IT COMPLETELY AND DON'T ASK ME LOL

-also, is it just me or do thick eyebrows look really cute??? Norman has pretty thick brows compared everyone else and I think they're cute 

WARNINGS: Kissing lol

Summary: You finally see Norman again.

Life had to be the scariest thing you'd ever faced. It threw the bad, the good, the everything your way until you could barely stand. Until you were left broken and mangled and shattered. Life was scary. It was cruel. Yet somehow, today was different.

You thought it was a dream. After all, how could it be reality when the boy in front of you died a year and some months ago? He had been shipped out, left for dead because it was a part of his stupid escape plan.

So how was it he stood before you? Breathing? Smiling? Living?

The office door closed behind you with a soft click. It bathed the room in silence, as if for a moment, the world decided to give you a second to breathe. A second to take in the wonderous sight before you.

The boy's name stuck in your throat. He had changed, not only in height, but stature and appearance. Norman was older, and he grew up to be more handsome than any runway model could ever be.

"(Y/n)," he gently said. "I'm glad you're well."

That was all it took. One sentence and you tackled him in the tightest hug your trembling arms could muster. "Norman...!" To have his arms around you, to hear the beating of his heart--it was a relief. A miracle sent by the gods. "You’re so stupid!"

No, he was more than stupid. He had to be the dumbest boy alive to think that it was okay to sacrifice himself for the sake of your family. You all were supposed to escape together just like Emma said. No one was supposed to be left behind, yet Norman--bless his heart--acted on his own.

You hugged him as if he would disappear if you let go. "We were all supposed to leave together. But you--I thought you--shipped out--and then--!" You chocked on your words. What more could you say anyway?

You buried your face in the crook of his neck. The muffled sob that ripped through your throat was more than Norman could handle. His knees went weak and you both slowly sunk to the floor in a heap. 

"I'm here." he gently said. "I'm not going anywhere (Y/n)."

Despite the steadiness in Norman's voice, his shoulders hitched, and he sniffled. "I'm here." he repeated. "I-I'm here." It sounded like he were reassuring himself that he wouldn't leave you so soon, as if he were scared too. Not for the way you sobbed and sobbed, but for the ache in his heart that seemed to beat in sync with yours.

Slowly, your sobs turned to quiet sniffles, which then silenced into nothing but tiny hiccups. You basked in Norman's warm embrace. He didn't hold you too tightly, as if he were afraid it would shatter you to pieces. Instead, he pulled you close to his side and leaned on his desk behind.

You rested your head on his chest, taking the time to memorise his scent. Parchment, the woods, and old books. You liked that, it was comforting to know he still smelled the same. On the other hand, his voice wasn’t as smooth or rounded as it once was. It was icy. No one seemed to notice that tiny sharpness that hit the end of each note he spoke. You wondered what could've made his kind heart harden.

Sure, Norman was still the same Norman you remembered, but something about the way he acted seemed off. He was clingy, much more than he ever was. Maybe he just missed you? No, that couldn't be right. Norman acted as if he were running out of time. He held you close and gently, as if these would be the last moments you'd see each other again. As if there wouldn't be a tomorrow.

You slowly pulled away to get a good look at Norman's face. His chin was slightly pointier, his cheeks less chubby and full. His lips twitched upwards into a comforting smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes because he looked so overwhelmingly tired. Your poor boy probably worked day and night to keep the hideout on its feet. It must be hard on him, you thought. Especially since he was revered as a god.

Norman's brows raised. "What's wrong?"

You took his thin hands in your own and gave them a good squeeze. "It's nothing. What about you?"

Ah yes, small talk. The perfect way to avoid any question thrown your way. Norman knew you well, sometimes even more than himself. When you asked simple questions such as these, that meant your mind laid elsewhere in a land he could never reach. Norman took that as a hint to drop the subject.

For now.

He wondered what invisible weight laid on your shoulders. Was it something as heavy as his? Perhaps your weight was worse and it ate away at you. Norman wished he could take that weight away and relieve you of that pain. He'd carry it all if he could, and it didn't matter to him if he'd die trying. This was you he was thinking about. He'd do anything for you.

"I've been okay," Norman vaguely responded. "But I have been busy, so I find it difficult to sleep sometimes.”

Norman liked to be honest, but you knew it was because that helped him figure out what was wrong with you. It was a game of tag. In this case being 'it' meant figuring out each others' worries through a back-and-forth match.

"You haven't been sleeping enough?" Your voice came out rather quiet as you traced invisible circles over the back of his hands. "Is that because you have so much work? Or do you refuse to get help?" Norman sat in a still silence and you sighed.

Of course. 

This was your Norman after all. He always shouldered a burden too big for his shoulders to carry. It was always something so heavy, so terribly hard to balance by himself. If that burden grew any bigger, it would collapse, and that would be his downfall. But you wouldn't let that happen to your Norman. No, no, no. You'd take that burden from him, steal it if you had to, and be his crutch.

"What have you been doing here?" you quickly added. "As 'William Minerva', I mean?"

Norman looked unbearably uncomfortable. That little frown tugging at the edge of his lips was a tell-tale sign. “I’ve been getting a lot done." he carefully said. "In fact, I’ve figured out a way to end this. Once and for all.” 

Norman began by explaining the first phase of his plan. The first phase had long been in motion. It started with the indiscriminate burning of cattle facilities, then the gathering of information, and continued on to pave the way for all the other phases you didn’t care to hear about.

The first few steps weren't too bad, but the final act in Norman's plan made your skin crawl. You half-wished you hadn’t asked him anything to begin with. Maybe it would have spared your appetite. Your grip on his thin hands loosened and loosened until your hands rested on your lap.

Norman wasn't so little anymore. He had grown up just a bit, but not in the way you wished to see. How could he think of something so cold-hearted and cruel? The extermination of all demons in Neverland was an act of genocide. If you re-called correctly, it was also considered a war crime.

Norman was smarter than that. He understood the consequence he'd have to face if that were the path he walked right? He understood that there were still other options right? Maybe you heard him wrong.

No.

You had to have heard him wrong. Norman wasn't ruthless like that. He was a ball of sunshine that made you smile whenever you were together.

"I see..." You tightly smiled. "So that's your plan on freeing everyone?" Norman nodded with a seriousness that took you back to the time he left everything to you and Ray and Emma. 

You weren't mistaken then. Norman truly meant everything he said.

"Yes, that is my plan. It's been taking me a little longer than expected to set it in motion. I've decided to officially start tomorrow."

Tomorrow? 

Your breath hitched. "Don't you think that's a bit hasty? What if...what if something goes wrong?" Norman smiled. It was hollow and wry and everything that he wasn't. "Don't worry. Fortunately, I've always been pretty good at getting what I want." You didn't return the smile, and you didn't want to say why.

Norman was quick to catch on. But of course he would catch on so quickly, this was Norman. Your Norman.

"Do you have a problem with my plan?" he inquired. You shook your head. "No, it's...it's not that." Yes, it was that. Your plan is dangerous even if it is good, you thought. Innocent lives wouldn't be spared, and that would spell an unfair fate for the demons who ate to survive.

You wanted to tell Norman why his plan was wrong, and why he didn't have to be so unforgiving about it. But then what? Why would he listen when you didn't have any better ideas? He seemed to have his mind set anyway, so no half-baked ideas would make a difference. And besides, he was the smartest person you knew. Maybe that was the only way out of the terrible fate all you cattle children faced.

"If you're okay with my plan," Norman said, "then what's bothering you (Y/n)?"

"It's still a lot for me to take in," you admitted with a plastic smile. "I guess I'm just shocked that you're, well, here." Norman smiled, this time with a genuine warmth. "I understand." He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. "I'll see you at dinner."

Your cheeks burned. How bold of him. "Y-yeah, I'll see you at dinner." Norman let out a cute little chuckle that made your heart beat a little louder than it was supposed to. You hauled yourself off the floor and made your way to the door. Norman followed.

You flashed him a nervous smile, one that mixed in with your muddled worry and anxiousness. You glanced at his bright eyes. For a moment, they seemed to dim like the setting sun. It reminded you of Mama. When no one looked at her, she didn’t smile. She always looked so sad when she sat by herself, and maybe that was because she was. 

"(Y/n)?"

Your fingers brushed against the doorknob. “Hm?”

"I want nothing more than to protect you and our family. I know you don't fully agree with me," his expression darkened. "But this is the way--the only way we can save everyone without spilling a single drop of blood."

For a moment, you forgot who you were speaking to. This wasn't the same boy you begged to run away with before he got shipped out. This wasn't the same boy who gently tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and sweetly complimented you. This boy--did you truly still know him? Was he still the Norman you grew up with and fell head-over-heels for?

You blinked and that dark look washed itself off his face. He strode up to you and placed a hand on your cheek--just like the day he was supposed to be harvested. Norman’s eyes were soft, softer than any blanket, and his lips pursed into a gentle frown. With his thumb, he wiped a stray tear away. 

Why were you crying?

"Norman..." You couldn’t find the right words. There were none that could explain the suffering you endured in silence. You worried, not only for Norman, but your family and all those other people in the world you didn’t know about. Norman’s plan--oh how stupid it was--had it changed him? Had it forced him to guard his heart to keep a still mind? 

You wondered what he endured while you went on your crazy adventures. At least you had your family, and Yuugo, Lucas, and all your friends. But Norman? He didn’t have anyone but himself. He carried the whole world. Alone. Had he been scared? Worried? Angry that no one came for him? Your heart clenched at the thought. 

"Smile,” Norman said. “It’s okay, I promise. I'm here." He gathered you in his arms and you didn’t have the heart to protest. “How?” you whispered. “How were you able to do all this on your own?” Norman helplessly shrugged. “You could say I have connections, either that or I’m just lucky.”

“What will you do after this is all over?”

Norman went still again, as if he couldn’t answer your question. You heaved in a shaky breath. If Norman wasn’t going to give you a straight answer, then you’d squeeze it out of him. “Did anything else happen to you? I’m sure there’s a catch, isn’t there?” 

It was like someone flipped a switch. One moment, you were a mess of tears, sorrow, and anguish. Now, something menacing laid in your voice. It was almost threatening, as if you were indirectly telling Norman to dare avoid the question. “I don’t want you dying trying to be everything at once,” you said. “Here you’re revered as a god, and if I know you, then it’s plain that you set yourself up like that. Don’t tell me you plan to die on us again.”

He stiffened.

“I know you Norman, don’t forget that. And because I love you, I don’t want to see you destroy yourself. I admit, I don’t know why you act like you’re going to leave again, but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.” You pulled away and took his hands in yours. A small smile of reassurance made its way up your lips, but Norman didn’t return it. 

No, he couldn’t. And despite all he did, he couldn’t lie straight to your face. Not like this.

Dinner cheered you up. The smiles and laughter that your family shared with Norman made you feel just a little bit better. But how long would it last? And how long would those smiles stay present? All the questions swarming in your mind made you feel sick to your stomach. There was too much to think about, and too little time to answer them.

You forced down the last of your food with a sigh and brought the plate to its respectful place. Everyone was too busy chatting and catching up to notice, but that was fine. It was better that way. 

You made your way to a secluded walkway. It was in one of the calmer areas of the hideout that overlooked the lower levels. It was quiet, save for the distant chatter of Hayato and his friends. He let out a bright laugh that echoed through the vacant walkways. What a shame it would be to hear that disappear.

“So this is where you went.” 

“I told you she’d be here.”

You whipped around in alarm. “Ray, Emma!” 

Ray sharply looked you up and down. He raised a brow and you squirmed under his gaze. He gently bumped shoulders with you. “What’s wrong with you?” 

You absentmindedly shrugged. “Nothing.” 

“That’s what someone who’s not okay would say.” Emma noted. She settled by your side on the railing and flashed a bright smile. “You were so quiet at dinner today.” 

You shook your head. Que another absentminded shrug and plastic smile. “I guess I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay.” 

Ray sighed. “Everyone but you?” He leaned against the railing next to you. “Did you and Norman talk at all?”

You froze. ‘Yes’, was what you wanted to say, but no sound came out. The image of Norman’s matured face, the way his his soft lips hit your own, and his stupidly tall build crossed your mind. 

Emma let out a gasp and slapped a hand over her mouth. “Ah!” she cried. “You’re all red!” You covered your hands with your face, ignoring Ray’s curious stare.

“What did you two talk about in his office anyway? Or should I say, do?” The glint in Ray’s eyes had subtext you didn’t want to recite out loud. “Rayyyyy,” you grumbled, “shut up.” He sent you a teasing grin as Emma frowned in confusion. “I don’t get it.” 

“You’ll understand when you’re older.”

“Yeah, it’s grown up stuff.”

You ignored the warmth spreading to your cheeks and elbowed Ray. “Don’t say it like ‘that’! Now you make it sound like something else!” 

He daringly raised a brow. “Like what?” You ran a hand over your scorching face. It was a miracle you weren’t on fire. “No, no, I’m not answering you!” 

You shared a good laugh and a comfortable silence began to settle, blanketing your shoulders in a lightness that you hadn’t felt in a while. 

Emma softly smiled. “I’m glad we found you.” she admitted. “You looked really sad all by yourself out here.” Ray nodded with a small snort. “Yeah, talk about depressing. But seriously though, did something..?”

Of course these two would see through your façade. Of course they’d understand something was wrong. They were your family, and they didn’t deserve your silence. Your smile shattered. “I don’t know if Norman told you about his plan yet, but it’s...it’s bad. Sure, the demons have done some terrible things to us, but that doesn’t mean all of them are guilty. I want to stop him, but I don’t know how.” 

Emma nodded in agreement. “He told us earlier and I don’t like it either.” she firmly said. “Ray and I talked it over and we have a plan, but it’s risky. Like, really risky. It has to do with the Seven Walls and...” 

You held on to every word Emma and Ray spoke. Risky was your middle name. Well, not actually, but it was something that became your friend. You and your family looked death in the face too many times to count. What would be another?

By the end of it, you were sure this new plan would change Norman’s mind, or at least convince him to give up the whole ‘genocide’ thing. It was decided by Ray that tomorrow, you’d all talk to Norman. Things seemed to be looking up. No, they had to be.

------------

The halls were empty and you were alone. How was it you got lost in the first place? You made sure to have every twist and turn memorised, so why did you end up in the wrong corridor twice? Ray would surely tease you for getting lost. What an absolute--

You slammed into someone’s chest. A yelp escaped your throat as the person in question lost his footing. He sucked in a sharp breath and went tumbling straight into you. Your back hit the ground as the boy threw out his arms on either side of your head to brace himself. You didn’t need a name to know who you had tumbled into. Light hair, soft eyes, fancy waistcoat and suit. 

“Norman?”

He hovered over you with wide eyes. His lips were inches from yours and he was just so, so close. 

Thump, thump, thump.

Your heartbeat was so gosh dang loud. Could he hear it? Could he see the way your face burned red? 

“Uhm--I--I--uh--” 

Why wasn’t he moving? Why weren’t you moving? Why was it so hard to look him in the eyes? A nervous smile broke out across Norman’s lips. He pushed himself off of you and offered out a hand. You gingerly took it.

“Sorry.” Norman said, helping you to your feet. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. Are you okay?” Your gaze darted from his lips to his dazzling eyes and then to his cheeks dusted in red. Your heart wouldn’t stop slamming against your chest. It kept going, and going until you felt like you were about to burst. 

“Sh-shouldn’t I be asking you that?” you retorted. “I’m not the one who--you know...gets sick all the time.” You weren’t sure why you said it like that, or why that made Norman smile so cutely, but he was smiling. That made your heart flutter. You glanced around the corridor a few times, and somehow, you kept finding focus on his lips. 

What was wrong with you?

Norman caught on fast--like he always did. “Oh I see,” he said with a low chuckle. You swallowed. His voice really did deepen (but you kind of liked it). For a moment, you thought he caught onto your staring, but instead of commenting on it, he intertwined his hand with yours and led you through the winding halls. 

“Don’t tell Ray I got lost.” you muttered. Norman laughed and it was like the sound of happiness itself. “I won’t.” 

The halls all looked the exact same: cream coloured paint, nature-like decorations, and numbered wooden doors. You forgot what number your room was, so that was probably why you got lost. Norman took a sharp left where you recalled should be a right instead. “Wait isn’t it that way?”

“I have something to give you, so we’re going to make a quick detour.” Norman’s cheeks dusted pink and he looked the slightest bit nervous. “What is it you want to show me?” He flashed you a contagious smile. “It’s a surprise.” 

“What kind of surprise?”

“I can’t tell you,” he said with a chuckle, “that’s why it’s called a surprise.”

When you got to his office, you were nervous. Surprises were fun, yes, but in a world where nearly getting eaten by wild demons fell into the category of ‘surprise’, you learned not to like them very much.

Norman closed the door behind you and it softly clicked shut. Okay, you thought. So he was locking the door and making his way over to his desk. Okay, that’s fine. Norman shuffled through a cabinet, that nervous look still on his face. Okay, okay, nothing wrong here. He gently shut the drawer, and as he walked out from behind his desk, you took note of the small little box he fiddled with. 

Okay. Okay. Box. Nervous. Locked door. Did he not want anyone to interrupt whatever he was about to do? 

Norman heaved in a deep breath. A really, really, really deep breath. “(Y/n), I have never met anyone else like you. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met, and you’re beautiful and kind.” He sunk to one knee and opened the little box. “Will you marry me?”

“Yes!”

---------

You jolted awake with a start. 

“Sorry,” Norman said. He scribbled a few words down in his notebook. “Did I wake you?” 

Ah, that’s right. After you talked with Emma and Ray, you all met up with Norman and hung out for a bit. But when had you gotten to his office? Much less, fallen asleep? You rubbed your eyes with a shake of your head. Judging by the tired look on Norman’s face, it was way past bedtime.

The heavy cloak around your shoulders offered a welcoming warmth. It smelled like books. It smelled like parchment and ink. It smelled like Norman and it was comforting. 

He glanced up from his notebook and curiously met your gaze. “What are you smiling at?” The dream popped up in your mind and your smile grew. “I had a good dream.” 

“What was it about?” he inquired without looking up.

“You.” 

The scratch of the pencil froze and he met your gaze. “You had a dream about me?” Your cheeks flushed. “Yeah, and you proposed.” Norman’s back went rigid and he turned as red as an apple. “I-I pro--proposed to you?” he stammered. You snickered, a smug smile tugging on your lips. “It was really sweet. And if you’re wondering, I said yes. I was going to kiss you, but then I woke up.” You stood up with a sigh. “It was disappointing, but that’s okay.” 

You let out a small laugh and neatly folded Norman’s cloak. You left it on the couch and made your way across the room. “That’s a nice notebook.” you said. “What’re you writing about?”

Norman stilled and closed the book with a smile. “It’s nothing special.” He put the pencil down ever so quietly and stood. “Do you seek my affections?” he inquired. You settled on the wall. “Don’t you have work to do?” Norman looked down at you. His fringe brushed across his eyelashes, and he loosened his tie. Slowly.

Your heart steadily drummed against your chest. “What are you doing?” The false innocence in your voice caused Norman to chuckle lowly. He caressed your cheek with a feather-light touch. “Well, you did say you were disappointed right? Why don’t I make it up to you?” 

He rested an arm on the wall with a sly smirk. Your lips connected and it made your stomach flip-flop. The kiss was slow, it was sweet. You found yourself pulling him closer, running your hands through his hair and yanking him over. "Norman?" He met your gaze with half-lidded eyes. "Yes (N/n)?"

"Where did you learn how to do that?"

He smirked and it was hot. The fact that he kept his arm braced against the wall didn’t help either. "Why?" he lowly inquired. "Do you like it?" Your breath caught in your throat and you found yourself wanting more. 

Knock, knock!

Norman didn't look too happy about that. He ran a hand over your cheek and gently tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, that half-lidded look of his melting into warmth and love. He made his way to the door, tightening his tie and smoothing out his hair with a quick touch.

"Hello--?" Norman fell short mid-sentence. As soon as your gaze locked with the person on the other side, you understood why. Ray stood in the threshold, just as red-faced as you and Norman, with a sheepish look on his face. “I’ll come back later.” he muttered. 

Oh great. Had he been eavesdropping? You glanced at Norman and he glanced at you, then Ray, and back to you. Ray sucked his teeth and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Don’t have too much fun.” he said, a smirk twitching onto his lips.

You made your way to the threshold with a groan. “Rayyyy!” 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry.” he coolly replied. “Do whatever, I didn’t see anything.”

PART 2 <--- READ PART 2

NOTE: I spent a WHOLE WEEK writing this. Please reblog so I know you guys like it :)

TIP JAR

[moon-lixie]

about a letter left to be found and a boy who disappeared into thin air.

word count: 2.046k

genre: slight angst

song: 말할 수 없는 비밀 (Secret Secret) - Stray Kids

I don't think any of you would be able to understand, not even if I sit down and speak all of my truths. Still, I think I owe an explanation.

With trembling hands he gathered his things, the notebooks filled with dreams spilling from the edges of every page, his favourite hoodies, the pair of bright red headphones he had since the beginning of high school.

From the open window a cold breeze came in and ruffled the slightly damp hair of the boy, paying special attention to the ends that were still clamped together due to the dampness.

He wasn't exactly in a hurry, but he still felt nervous and anxious, because even if it was almost impossible, at the back of his mind he was haunted by the idea of someone coming in and stopping him.

Moving quickly he reached down for the towel hanging around his shoulders and ruffled his hair a couple of times more until he felt satisfied.

First of all, I have no idea where I am going but know that I'm fine.

A loud sigh caressed his lips as it escaped, filling the room that he had always called his own, his little world nobody could disrupt because in between the forgotten comics and the piles of clothes sprawled here and there he had felt more at home than he has ever felt anywhere else.

Throwing the towel to the basket of dirty laundry at the end of the hallway, he finally finished everything he had to do, simply being left with staring at himself in the mirror and fixing the wild strands of hair that had been upset by the freshly washed hoodie hugging his torso.

He could barely muster a smile at his reflection, not because he was sad, but because it all felt surreal in a sense that left him wondering if it was still the middle of the night many years ago and the last years had been nothing but the hopeful dreams of his younger self.

Maybe it's a bit selfish of me to simply leave without a warning, but please understand that I want much more than this place could ever offer me.

He closed the front door of his house, locking it with the pair of keys his mother had given him once he turned twelve; they were still held together by the Pororo keychain he had bought one day after school with such an overwhelming excitement that made the memory pull at the corners of his lips.

It felt bizarre to walk away from the entrance of his home knowing that he was never really going to come back, that this was the last time.

Just like the very first time he had arrived there along with a moving truck packed with boxes and furniture, he felt breath leave his lungs at the sight of the white façade. It made him stop for a second and contemplate in utter silence.

Goosebumps coated the length of his arms once he turned around and kept moving forward at a steady pace, leaving his old bike behind as well.

Know that the decision to leave wasn't made in a haste, I've been thinking about it for long and now just seemed like the perfect time.

Mr. Kim lazily waved in his direction, gentle smile and downturned eyes with the familiar brown that reminded Jisung of his grandfather; maybe that's where he would go next, to visit his grandfather.

Without much thought he returned the sweet and familiar greeting, feeling a bit nostalgic when he thought back to all the summers that he had spent working with the man in his garden.

Back then a young Jisung had been happy to make a few bucks while getting to stay out all day in the yard playing with bugs and with the sun kissing the skin of his chubby cheeks and legs that weren't covered by his favourite pair of green shorts.

He couldn't help but wonder where had all that time run to because despite being the one who lived through it, he could barely make sense or when had he ended up where he was.

Time moved too fast and without a warning, it left everyone wondering.

It isn't easy to leave my whole life behind but it feels right, the mere idea makes me feel lighter because who knows who I'll get to be when I get to the end of my journey.

Perhaps I'll be braver, a little bit smarter, more mature, maybe even a couple of centimetres taller.

He could walk the streets with his eyes closed and still know where every bump and crack was in the sidewalk, he could still point where his old school was, where the closest convenience store stepped in his way and as usual tempted him to buy a snack even on those days were his pockets were empty and his tummy full.

From there he knew his way to everywhere else in town, he even knew how long it would take him to get to said places on foot or with his trusty bike.

It all felt too easy and familiar, too comfortable, and those things weren't bad at all but Jisung thought he had had enough of them. He craved discovering himself inside the walls of another place so foreign that every single one of his truths were only known by himself.

Was it silly? That he thought a change of scenery would make him a new person, one much more alike to who he truly was.

Sometimes talking to someone isn't enough, because you don't think they'll understand, you know they won't. That's why I never said anything about the deepest desires looming in my heart or the biggest fears that tied me down for as long as I can remember.

All the interrogations running leaps around his mind made him walk faster, filling him with the same dreadful excitement he felt every first day of school, one that mixed with nervousness and fear.

He wasn't sure if starting fresh would let him be someone whose fears didn't weigh upon his heart so harshly, he wasn't sure if he would get to be the person he had always wished he could be but he could only hope.

Hope had been what drove him this far and today he was giving it full control of where his feet moved to, control over how his next day would look like or where he would wake up the next day.

Never in his life had he felt more ready to wander around by himself.

But I guess, since I'm going, it's only fair that I try to sit down and talk to someone, hoping that they will understand even if my words are scarce and there will be nobody to talk back to at the end of this letter.

On the horizon the sun rushed to slumber, leaving a comforting lilac pooling around the clouds and making them stand out even more.

Night hovered over his shoulders making him breathe with much more ease because if there was something that portrayed hope and tomorrow with an uncanny resemblance and lack of effort, it was the night sky with its endless stars and its shining moon.

In his childhood days he had discovered that there was no better cure for uncertainty and a nostalgic heart than staring up at the night sky; there was something about it that made him feel like time stopped for an instance, that time wasn't quite as unforgiving while the veil of darkness covered everything.

If he could go anywhere he wanted —which he was already doing— he would wish to go to the sky, not the endless and uncertain space, but the idea of the sky that humans have in their ignorance, a canvas that goes no further than our eyes can see.

Ever since I can remember I've felt like there was a place for me somewhere out there, a place I always called home without knowing what it really was.

It wasn't like I didn't feel at home here, there was just a feeling in my chest that told me out there I could feel completely free in the way I've always craved.

For him it had always felt unfair, how everyone got to live and walk around without the things that kept him back. Of course when he grew older he understood that everyone had their own problems but sometimes that was easy to ignore when one's own darkness loomed around their heart.

He had spent many years wishing, praying to whoever was listening, that he could just be himself without the voices in his head and the uncertainties that made every single one of his steps be cautious.

Nobody seemed to have listened as years went by and things got harder, still, he never gave up and even though he could never really say that there was nothing else bothering him he could at least say that he had everything under control.

If time is unforgiving it also is healing, and for him it had healed many wounds that couldn't be seen.

Unknowingly I spent a lot of time wanting to go to that place, craving to find where it was.

Some years ago I understood that it perhaps wasn't a place but a version of myself that could bring such soothing feelings. That's where I'm going to, that's why I have no destination.

He wanted to believe that nothing had been planned, that his savings carefully stuffed at the bottom of his backpack had just been him being responsible about his money and having enough for the impulsiveness that one day had won over reason and had driven him to this adventure.

He wanted to pretend but it was stupid to do now, there was nobody around to judge him or question his motives, so there was no use in not being honest with himself.

Thinking back to all those evenings spent running around the small restaurant in which he had found a job, he could see that perhaps this plan had been many years in the making.

Unconsciously he had always been hoping for a moment like this, a moment of unadulterated freedom.

Hopefully I do get there, hopefully I get to be happy and everyone I left behind does too.

The journey to happiness, to authenticity, to being unapologetically himself, had taken him to the airport, another thing that wasn't as spontaneous as he had tried to make it seem.

Passport in hand and trembling self, the whiteness of the place and the various people walking back and forth made him realise that this was really going on, he was really leaving.

For the first time in his life overthinking had no place in his plans.

I wish to be who I am meant to and disappearing was perhaps the thing I had always been destined to do. A boy who disappeared into thin air, that's who I am, a boy with secrets that weigh down on my heart and that I'm unwilling to carry with me on this journey.

Approaching the desk he was met with a young woman, in her mid twenties or early thirties, sweet but practised smile covering her lips as she recited the words that he must've learned a long time ago when she first started working there.

"I want a ticket for the next flight available," Jisung said, offering a reassuring smile after the confused look the woman gave him.

He looked around as the sounds of typing filled his ears and before he had time to start regretting something the ticket had been placed on his palm and his savings were short by a considerable amount.

I'm afraid that wasn't much of an explanation but it was my truth.

Good luck and see you whenever we're meant to cross paths.

The last thing he saw before falling asleep were the clouds from above and the sky now completely dark like the many nights he had wondered where he belonged.

Now he had an answer, he belonged wherever he felt free and right then in that comfortable plane seat he felt the freest he had ever been.

[stuckysdaughter]

Clever Little Snake

Young!Sirius Black/Slytherin!Reader

Summary: You and Sirius have been flirting with each other for weeks now, but neither of you make the next move. You have now decided it’s time to take matters into your own hands, while still making him make the first move. Luckily for you, there’s a ball coming up soon…

Trigger Warnings: none

CHAPTER 1 - The Idea

------

You could have sworn you were just sitting in the library minding your own business. You had your books out, and you were clearly working on your charms assignment. Somehow, the raven-haired boy didn’t get the message.

“C’mon, Y/LN, come with me. After all, we’re the two hottest people in school. If we go together we can make everyone jealous.”

“Black, we’ve been over this. As much as I love looking at your handsome face all evening,” you put down your quill and looked at him. He was leaning against the table, arm resting on the top while his legs were crossed at the ankles. “I don’t enjoy dances, especially school sanctioned ones. All those people crammed into one space dancing, if you can call it that, is not my idea of a fun time.”

Sirius smirked, and leaned closer to you. “And what would be your idea of a fun time, Y/N?”

You matched his smirk, and you knew your answer would push his buttons. “Well, let me think… I guess it would be putting on a movie with a special someone, the evening turning away from the watching and more towards something else, if you catch my drift…”

You watched with a mix of pride and pleasure as you noted the muscle in his jaw tick. He stood up straighter, and uncrossed his ankles.

“That does sound like a lovely evening, very fun. Alright, Y/LN, as much as I love our chats there’s other matters at hand. Until next time, Y/N.”

He took your hand in his, and brought it up to his mouth, kissing your knuckles lightly. You wished you could stop the blush rising to your cheeks. You watched him walk away, and you thought you had noticed his hips swinging a bit more. You two had been playing this game with each other for weeks on end, neither of you making the move toward something more. You should’ve hated each other, with your respective houses being in a heated rivalry. But his charming personality got to you, you hated to admit, and you had fallen for the Black boy all the way back into your fifth year.

It was getting harder and harder to hold these emotions in, but you very well couldn’t tell him. His ego was already big enough, and his posse didn’t help either. The four boys were known for their pranks, and for the time spent in detention because of it. Maybe that was why he called Professor McGonagall by name…

Anyway, it was your seventh year, and it was nearing the holidays. You were debating on whether or not to go home for Christmas. Your family was nice and all, you loved them a lot, but you knew your friends were staying at Hogwarts instead. Coincidentally, so was Sirius. You shook your head, trying to rid him from your thoughts. You packed up your things, and went back into the dungeons where your common room was.

As you walked, you started coming up with a plan. You can’t keep waiting for Sirius to make a move, but you don’t want anyone else but him. Maybe if you keep pushing his buttons, he’ll finally say something. Best of all, you might be able to get him to think it was all his idea.

Well, Siri, it seems like we’re going to the ball together after all. Step one, get his attention back on me.

------

Author's Notes: One chapter done! This one was pretty short due to set-up, but it had reached its natural end here. The next part will be a bit longer, I promise. I hope you all enjoyed it, and I'll have the next part out next week (9/17/21). As always, please like and REBLOG, and leave a comment if you want! I always love hearing your feedback. If you want to be added to the taglist, send me a message, and I'll get you on it. Much love! - Butterfly

[echo-three-one]

Good Day!

As I told earlier, I finished my Soap x Reader Fic and yeah here it is.

I suck at titles and that shows.

Midnight Coffee Rush

John MacTavish x Female Reader

Warnings : Smut. Read at your own Risk or whatever.

Cross-posting to AO3 later 😳

THUD!

You softly slam your head on the desk as you stare blankly at the blinking cursor on your laptop. An article is due next week and you haven't really started on anything yet. Your editor keeps on calling you earlier today on how she can't work on last minute submissions. You assured her that yours won't need that much editing and she trusts you with that, but still, a deadlines a deadline.

Scanning your empty apartment room for ideas, you decide it's best if you take this ordeal outside and look for open places to work on. Coincidentally, the local café "John's brew" happens to open for 24 hours starting today. You feel uneasy at the name of the shop but that won't stop you from your goals today.

After a chilly midnight walk across the streets of your city, you finally make it to the shop, it looks like it can compete with the local Starbucks as its outer layout gives off the same vibe.

You push open the glass doors and the bell chimes from above you, this made the barista at the counter turn his head and greet you with a friendly smile. "Welcome to John's Brew!"

You stand just across the counter as you look up to view what the store has to offer while the barista waits patiently for your order. You order some fancy named coffee, wanting to try out why it has a star next to it's name as the barista, who now you know goes by the name "Gary" based on his name tag, explains that it's their best selling and unique blend coffee. He then passionately tells you how the coffee you chose is created by the owner of the shop and judging by the tone of his voice, he's excited for you to try it for the first time.

"Thanks Gary, here's my card." you reach out for your card and he cheerfully accepts it.

"What name should this go by, Ms. L/N?" he asks readying his marker.

"Just Y/N." you say. Gary raises his eyebrows in confusion.

"Sorry, I'm sure I heard that name somewhere." he dismisses his thoughts and writes your name on the cup.

"We'll you're a barista, I'm sure you've heard a lot of names in your line of work." you jokingly reply. It made him laugh as he gives your card back and you make your way to the corner of the room.

The music is soothing and the ambience is more than enough to keep you going, you pull out your laptop as you start typing ideas for your article.

Gary took the liberty of delivering you your drink saying "You looked very focused" and "There isn't that much customers anyway" and you smiled at the service he's done. He stays for a while insisting that he wants to witness your initial reaction as soon as you taste the coffee. So you slowly blow off the heat and took your first sip.

Your eyebrows raised and your cheeks blushed as the warm beverage tickles your tastebuds a wave of nostalgia brings shivers down your spine.

***

"So, what do you think of this?" A shirtless man with a signature mohawk and scar on his left eye approaches you just as you get up of bed. You remember smiling at the view, his deep blue eyes pierce through yours as he excitedly offers a cup of coffee he claims to mix himself.

"Mmm! This tastes, well... something even I can't describe! It's good? delicious? heavenly maybe?" You giggle as he inches closer to you crawling up the bed and reaching on your face for a kiss, blindly reaching for the cup and putting in on the bedside table.

"Not even the words from your thesaurus can't describe?" He whispers as he pulls the kiss away, eyebrows wiggling. Your heart melts at the sight of him.

"I'll tell you the perfect word when I find it." You giggle as you reach for his face and pull him to yours, as he softly crashes his body on you, rolling around the bed.

***

"Maam?" Gary taps your shoulder and you immediately flinch and turn to him.

"I'm sorry." you laugh nervously.

"It felt like you had a good time going on with that drink. We're having a contest as to which word best describes it. If you want to submit your word, I'll leave this pen and sticky note on your table." he cheerfully explains as the door chimes, making him rush back to his counter.

Shit. You thought to yourself. Of course it had to taste the same, even the name of the shop checks out. Your heart starts to thump louder and louder as you put the pieces together, you convince yourself it's just the coffee, but then again the evidences never lie. John's Brew, that exact taste, no word yet to describe it.

You flinched as you turn to the heavy door slam to your left, just by the counter. A man, walks out of it wearing a very fit long sleeve tucked into business pants, you assume it's the manager. Then again, you see him scratching his head, which happens to have a rather unique haircut. A mohawk. Holy Shit.

***

'Congratulations Ms. Y/N L/N! You have been accepted on the writer program. Please report tomorrow for your orientation.'

The text read just as you wake up. Your face lit up in excitement as you squealed like a kid. Your life would change for the better.

A very wet John MacTavish popped out of the bathroom, his face was full of worry as he quickly wrapped himself with a towel.

"What's wrong?! Something out to get ya?" He asked, a bar of soap on is arms ready to throw to the intruder.

"I just got accepted!" you squealed excitedly at him, hugged him thight not minding how wet he was. He slowly wrapped his arms around you and you felt that you're the only one excited about this news.

"Congrats. But what about your life here? What about me?" he muttered, his facial expressions dropped.

"I'm sure we'll work it out? It isn't that far, right?"

"I'm sure we'll work it out"

"Not now John, I have articles due."

"I'm too exhausted for today, John"

"I'm sorry. I fell asleep."

***

The loud growl of your stomach shocked you back to reality. Come to think of it, it's already 2 in the morning and you're almost through with your article. A muffin won't be that much of a distraction. You turn to the counter and see John catering to a lady on a bright red dress. She probably came from a club and now trying to sober up with a coffee. You pretend to type on your keyboard but secretly view the event from the corner of your eye. They are laughing and he escorted her as she is walking tipsily to the sofa. They exchange some words you barely make out and can't help but feel rage bubbling inside you. But then again, you don't have the slightest audacity to do so. You slowly ignored him while focusing on your job. You left his messages on read and calls on voicemail. You feel guilt rushing through you. Out of impulsive emotions, you quickly decide to finish the article home as you grab your laptop and coffee and rush to the exit.

"Ma'am! You left your sticky note." John's voice echoes across the shop. This made the few notable customers look at the both of us in curiosity.

You slowly turn back to him leaning on the counter, his elbows resting on the counter looking at you, he knows what he's up to. You remember telling him to stop flexing his biceps in front of you in public. It's kind of an inside joke for the two of you and he seems to remember it all too well.

"Your word. For the contest." he points out to the bulletin board of sticky notes on the other side of the hall.

"I... can't think of anything yet..." you stammer as you exit the door, walking as fast as you can away from him.

"Y/N, wait!" he quickly grabs your arm. You almost expect that he'd do this even after all those times.

"John I-" you quicky turn to him, hot tears start forming on your eyes as he pulls you close to his warm embrace.

"Yeah. You've been very busy... I know." He mutters as you sniffle on his chest, smelling his musk that never changed even after all these months.

"Congratulations on your most recent award, you know. Article of the month, and the month before that and that one time you wrote about the wildlife in Africa..." he trails off while rubbing your back as more tears fell from your eyes. He'd been watching your career grow, even after all this time. It somehow feels you don't deserve him. And you believe you really don't.

Pulling away, you looked at him with a smile.

"I'm sorry..." you croak.

"Why are you sorry, Y/N? You met someone else out there?" he asks. Then again, you both didn't really have a proper conclusion to your relationship. You initially felt like you were slowly drifting away from each other as your careers grew, but here he is, having the same sparkle in his eyes as when you last saw each other.

"No... but, it's been very long and I have been ignoring you... breaking my promi-" He suddenly pulls you close and kisses your lips, you deny him at first but you slowly grip his arms and let him have access to your mouth.

Longing is the only feeling you both feel right now as you slowly kiss back and respond to his mouth. His kiss gives you assurance that even after all this time he yearns for you to come back, his assurance that you did what you had to do to get where you are now even at the cost of completely shutting him out. But of course you weren't, you also long for him every single day, but life has to keep going, and you believed that he'd found someone else after all those times. But this moment made you feel wrong about him, and it's now your chance to get things right between the two of you.

"You know, I always assumed you're still my girlfriend." he smirks. He is true though, there was neither a formal nor informal break up effort on both sides, just indifference due to many reasons.

"Well, I assumed you looked for someone else... and I'm to shy to ask how things have been..." you croak, trying not to cry again. You realize your stupidity once more, but he wipes off your tear with his thumb and lifts your chin up to look at him.

"You still owe me a word, you know." he jokes as he walks you back to the cafe, arm wrapped around your shoulder. As soon as you both enter the door, Gary greets his boss while mopping the floor.

"You were right boss, she is pretty!" The barista smiles and gives John a thumbs up to which he replies,

"Guess I'll be back in my office doing paperwork, Gary. You take charge here okay?"

"Yes, Captain!" he jokingly salutes and continues his work.

"You done with that article?" he asks, a tone of concern in his voice.

"Almost.." you reply shyly. You still can't digest everything that happened so far, but your heart keeps on thumping and your mind's been trying to scream something to you.

"You know, I could use some company while I do some paperwork..." the trails off, the tone in his voice shifted into something you felt excited about. Something along those words mixed with that accent sends flutters across your insides.

"If you'd want me to..." you reply as he opens his office door letting you in. It was a small office a sofa just beside the door, two chairs infront of a large office desk filled with scattered papers, ledgers and journals. He quickly folds his laptop and puts it in his bag as you take off your coat, admiring the view. Plaques, certificates and awards plaster across the walls, along with pictures of his staff calendar schedules and some other things scribbled across the whiteboard. He offers his hand and you give him your coat, only to be pinned to the door.

"God, I missed you so fucking much." He breathes as you stare at his cold blue eyes blazing with desire, you know full well where this is going and you have no objections. You wished for this to happen as soon as your plane touched the city.

Unable to form any words, you quickly pucker your lips, signaling him to move closer and kiss you. Now that you're both alone, his kisses felt much more intimate, needier and his tongue explored every possible area he could. You hear the door lock itself and his hand slowly caresses your ass through the tight jeans you're wearing, pressing himself so you could feel the tension growing beneath his slacks. You slowly slide your hand through it and earned yourself a chuckle from him, as he moves his lips below your ear and around your neck, hearing each smack of his lip and sniff of his nose.

You let out a soft moan as you feel overwhelmed on what he does to your body, you couldn't focus on what's going on, your hands rubbing his hard crotch, his hands softly caressing your ass or his mouth doing wonders around your neck. He continues to do this until your pants and whines become erratic and fast and stops just at the right time for you to catch your breath.

You open your eyes to him, who seems to be enjoying your reunion, a sexy smirk across his face. You let out a smile whist still panting, and he seems to like what he sees, letting a soft chuckle.

"I remember that look on you. You're up to something.." He recalls as you push him to the sofa to his side, straddling on his crotch as you unbutton his long sleeves.

He grunts as soon as he plops on the sofa and groans as soon as you slowly wiggle your ass on top of him. You could clearly see the building frustration in his face as well as in his jeans.

You quickly undone seven buttons as he quickly tosses it somewhere and viewed his muscular physique as you sit on him. He became hairier and you find it very sexy, trailing your hand down his body, all while staring at him as seductive as you can. He smiles at the gesture as you slowly unbutton your shirt, never breaking eye contact, until he can't resist anymore and got up from the sofa. He lifts you down and you stand on the floor as he works your way to slide off your jeans. He quickly buried his face on your pussy as soon as he sees it and devours it like a hungry wolf. He never dissappoints as the feeling made you shudder, grabbing onto what's left of his hair in excitement. This goes on up until you softly pull his head out and move to unbuckle his belt, sliding his slacks all the way down as his cock springs free as soon as you take his boxers off.

You stare at him as you slowly jerk your hand around his cock, his eyes almost in a trance, as you teasingly kiss the tip, which was slowly oozing of precum. He grabs your hair and tucks it behind your ear as you slowly swallow his cock, giving him a blowjob that you've always imagined of giving him when you meet again. You're tongue slowly swirling around his length, feeling every vein and skin around it. You countinued mixing it up with your hand and mouth until he groans in anticipation and pulls you out of him.

He slowly gets up and shoves all his paperwork away from his desk and carries you to it, spreading your legs as he slowly pushes his tip on your opening.

You whimper at the first entrance, it felt different than usual, maybe because it's been quite a while since you to have done it, but that didn't stop the both of you from continuing. His eyes mesmerize you as he slowly picks up his rhythm, you can see his chest muscles bounce as he thrusts himself deep in you. He slowly rubs the upper area of your pussy as he thrusts, giving you a sensation that makes you wanna scream in pleasure. But given the circumstances, you only let out small gasps and whimpers. However, his grunts and moans are also getting louder, so you decide to let loose and follow his volume.

"Fuck." You whimper as he continues his fast pace as evidenced by the loud slapping noises. He quickly flips you to the desk and continues to fuck you from behind. Each thrust felt like the desk is inching closer to the wall, you didn't protest as you loved the sensation, how your walls clench as his warm cock slides in and out of you. You feel his motions change and you know full well what that means, you moan softly signaling him thay you're also almost there as he makes his final thrusts and shoots his warm load inside you, feeling the rush of his cum drip as he pulls his cock out.

He pulls you up and reaches for a kiss, a long yet intimate one as you both use the language of kiss to assure that you'll still be the same way no matter how distant it may be.

"See you after my shift?" he murmurs as he puts on his clothes, now all wrinkly and messy.

"Yes." you smile reaching for another kiss.

After preparing to go home, you quickly grab a pen and wrote the word you describe the drink, plaster it on the board and make your way out of the café.

[sweetestlamb]

Come On Over Baby

Summary: continuation to "Keep Bugging Me". Dosan gets a new apartment and everyone has mixed reactions.

Author's note: I have so many ideas about this fake world I created and I'm just going to live here for a while 🤷🏽‍♀️ I want these things to happen but the show just keeps waking up and choosing violence when they could choose hugs and kisses, it's a damn shame. Anyway if you wanna live in ignorance with me here you gooooooo. 💞💃🏾 Am I back to naming my stories after cheesy songs? Hmmm nobody can prove it *Hums Christina Aguilera* 

It's not a easy decision, no chance at that when his mother stares at him like he admitted to killing puppies but he knows that he needs his own place. His phone calls with Dalmi are getting progressively more heated with them not able to get a moment alone since the event that must not be named.

The first time she asks him what he's wearing he looks down at his cable knit sweater and tells hers, "It's one hundred percent cotton. My mom bought it for me last week. It's very warm." Her silence and subsequent laughter makes him feel as if he's missed something important despite answering her question. With a giggle she replied, "You are really sweet Dosan. You're too good for this world." And he blushes immensely feeling hot under the collar at her excessive praise.

The next time, she simply sends him a message that causes his brain to go offline.

I miss your taste.

There's no way to misconstrue that statement and his brain supplies vivid images of what they did in this very room.

Gasping.

Slurping.

Moist.

He hurries to lock his door before letting his hands stray, her wet mouth filling his thoughts. Embarrassment isn't enough to deter him and her messages following make it clear she knows exactly the affect her seemingly innocuous message yielded.

So he starts looking for an apartment with Dalmi's help, she will be over a lot and it only makes sense that she should have some input. Her smile is honey sweet when he asks for her help, grinning at him with glee as she sips her iced Americano.

"I would love to help Dosan-ah."

The ordeal takes longer than expected but within weeks he finds a place, a mere twenty minute drive from his parents house and thirty minutes from Dalmi. They share identical sunny smiles as he signs the lease and buys their his new apartment. He has to repeatedly remind himself that he can afford this place regardless of the exorbitant amount of zero's. He's come a long way indeed.

Telling his parents about his move is uncomfortable to put it lightly, his mom is nonchalant and sulking in equal terms. Wailing that her only son is abandoning her for a pretty young thing, he's just thankful that Dalmi isn't around to hear her new nickname. His father on the other hand is over the moon, slapping him on the back and shouting about the strong will of Nam men. He fears he'll suffer from chronic back pain as a result of the thunderous pounds.

"Don't skip meals. Call if you need anything. You're always welcome to come back. " His mom promises, reaching out to smack his father as breezes by boasting on the phone that he has a free room in the house now and promises that they can use it for gatherings.

"Yes, yes! Bring the soju we should have a drink!"

But when it's time to bring all his belongings to the moving van, manned by Chul-san and Yong-san both parents are eying him with wet eyes from the doorway. He tries to keep his tears at bay but they all end up weeping in front of the gate, Chul-san screaming "They grow up too quickly!" Patting his mother compassionately on the back. He tries the same with his father but the dead glare stops him in his spot.

After a long day unpacking boxes, mostly his computer and tech supplies he collapses on the floor exhausted. With a dopey grin Chul-san is the first to leave, after Saha sends him a message complaining that she's bored and if he wants to hang him he better be there in ten minutes. Chul-san smiles like she sent him a love letter, he shakes his head but he's done trying to understand their relationship.

He waves goodbye to his friend, thanking him for his help and with then it's just him and Yong-san, who immediately starts to interrogate him about Dalmi and their relationship.

"How are things going?" Yong-san asks laying on the wooden floor with him as they both stare out the giant windows, the sunset is a majestic spill of colors.

His lips slide into an instantaneous grin, "I'm happy. Happier than I was in San Francisco."

Yong-san doesn't reply but he reaches across to squeeze his hand and wrap an arm around his shoulder.

They sit like that for a quiet moment.

Until his phone disrupts the gentle silence, the woman in question appearing on his phone. After a nod from his friend he answers the call.

"Hello?"

"Dosan-ah! Did you finish moving? I'm sorry I couldn't help you. Are you hungry? I can bring you food." Dalmi's voice is music to his ears, the rumbling of her engine vibrating in his ears.

He answers honestly, "Yes we finished, Chul-san and Yong-san helped me. It's okay I know you had to work today. I am a little hungry, fried chicken?" He knows now that he doesn't need to pretend to want fancy food, they both love fried chicken and its delicious simplicity.

She groaned knowingly, "I had a feeling you'd want chicken on a day like this. I already got some from that place you like. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

He smiles, nuzzling into Yong-san's shoulder contently before answering, "Okay. I'll see you soon."

He begins to lower the phone but then her voice rings out stopping him "Dosan-ah one more thing!" He immediately brings the phone back to his face humming to show his presence.

"I miss you. I love you."

His heart flutters never tiring of hearing those three words. If he could bottle it up and listen to it daily he would. He's addicted to her love.

"You too. I love you too."

Then they finally hang up cheesy smile etched in his handsome face.

"Wow. I see it now. You really are cockroaches in love. Gross but captivating." Yong-san teases pushing Dosan's head off his shoulder as he gathers his things. He temporarily feels a tinge of guilt, Yong-san is the only one in the group who doesn't have someone. He doesn't want his friend to feel like the fifth wheel.

His thoughts must play on his face because Yong-san mushes his face before sticking out his tongue, "Don't look at me like that. I'm fine we can't all be gross and in loveeee. I'll be stuffing my face with premium beef instead."

They both chuckle as he walks his friend it the door, saying their goodbyes with a quick embrace.

His nerves overtake him when he's alone. He checks his phone but there is nothing there to keep his attention so he starts at the spot where you would have a TV, then he realizes he has nothing here. What will he do with Dalmi? He contemplates texting her to let her know she should probably just go home. In the end his desire to see his girlfriend overwhelms his selflessness. They can be bored together.

Minutes pass and he buzzes her in, body twitching now from her nearing proximity. When she knocks at the door he all but races to answer the door, unshamed.

"Hi."

"Hey."

They stare at each other starry eyed before he moves out of the way and lets her in. Placing a pair of pink house slippers at her feet, at her curious look he explains with a shy shrug, "I bought them for you."

She smiles widely, thrusting the fried chicken at his broad chest.

"I come bearing gifts too."

The enticing aroma of the fried delicacy fills his senses and he takes the proffered bag, thankful that she thought to bring plastic plates and little plastic cups.

"I don't have anything to drink." He apologizes holding up the cups.

Pulling a bottle out of nowhere she then offers him a bottle of wine, deep red with a golden label. He is no connoisseur but it looks expensive.

"You didn't need to bring me wine."

She shrugs, "I wanted to. You're pretty cute when you're drunk."

He reddens remember that embarrassing night so many years ago, his first time sleeping at her house.

"Maybe we shouldn't drink that much."

She laughs loudly at his warning, pulling a bottle opener from her purse. He absently wonders what else is in there.

She pours the liquid into the plastic cups, handing it to him first and instinctively he leans in to smell the beverage. His nose dangerously close to the liquid before he realizes what he's doing and he hurriedly pulls away.

"Ummm... I-"

"Is that what you're supposed to do?" She asks before leaning in and sniffing her own wine loudly and without any grace. If he wasn't already in love, he would be falling right now.

They both sniff their wine gracelessly and munch on the crispy sweet meat, the dissonance of the meal doing nothing to stop their consumption.

Dalmi hums sweetly as she sits on the floor looking gorgeous with chicken grease on her lips.

"What?" She questions, licking her fingers clean.

He feels his throat tightening. Parched.

He looks at the ground, avoiding her eye as he downs his wine.

"Nothing. Just thinking. How was your day?"

And he listens as Dalmi tells him all about her long day complaining about her sister and how demanding she is, Dosan pointedly does not mention the fact that she's smiling or the fact that all of Injae's "annoying" habits sound like things that Dalmi herself does all the time. It didn't take him long to realize just how similar the sisters are but god forbid anyone mention that.

He smiles when she starts playing with her hair, thankful to be the one she shares her days with.

When he stands up to collect their garbage, walking into the spacious kitchen. She suddenly stops speaking droning off at the end of an incomplete sentence.

"Dalmi-ah?"

After throwing the garbage in the bin he washes his hands and wonders back over to his silent girlfriend, who is glaring at...the ground?

He calls her name again recapturing her attention.

Peering down he notices that she's staring at his phone. Which has a message notification.

Twisting his lips in thought he crouched down again rejoining Dalmi on the smooth glossy floor.

"I didn't mean to look. It was just right there." She's bites out taking a big gulp from her cup.

He has no idea what could possibly have her so worked up and he picks up his phone to see the answer.

I miss you stranger. Call me soon.

He gasps as soon as he sees those words on the screen: Han Ji Yoon.

He knew it wasn't mature but he'd never actually cut things off with her, he'd just slowly stopped calling her and answering her messages. Some might of considered it ghosting but he called it awkwardly disappearing, he'd never broken up with someone before so he just didn't know how. So he'd hoped she would get tired of him and stop trying to see him, it had been working until this message.

"Dalmi-ah I can explain."

He expects more of a fight but she looks at him, waiting. Expectant and glowering. Fire in her eyes.

"Okay. Go ahead."

He blinks at her stare and gulps when she scoots closer to him, invading his personal space. Not knowing how her proximity renders him useless at the best of times.

So he stutters out how he was too pathetic to tell the girl the truth and instead he'd ignored her and thought she got the memo.

Dalmi doesn't say anything at first and when she finally speaks her words make no sense and he wonders if he's drunker than he thought.

"Does she follow you on social media?"

He nods yes and before he knows what exactly is happening Dalmi is dragging him by his arm to the window and mashing their faces together to take a selfie on his phone.

"Stop looking nervous. Look natural. Smile. Dosan-ah."

She snaps away until she's satisfied and he watches in amazement as she posts the picture to his story with the caption, "New apartment with my love." She puts a little red heart and then decides against it.

"There you go. Now everyone will know that you're taken."

His chest is brimming with emotions and he finds his hands curled around her little chin, she leans into his touch easily swaying as if hypnotized.

"You're jealous."

Her lips pull into a sneer but something in his eyes kills her denial, her face breaking as she wraps her thin arms around his waist.

"Don't look so proud. I have people texting me too you know?"

And immediately he squints at her words, staring hard at the indent of her phone in her pocket as if to read said messages.

"Let's post that picture on your social media too." He demands feeling the fiery blaze of jealous lick at his heart.

Her eyes widen before she erupts into laughter, dragging him the rest of the distance between them pressing her joy into his mouth.

He sinks his fingers into her thick hair, swallowing the rest of her laughter allowing Dalmi to back her into the cool glass of the window. All his shyness melts away as he kisses her, emboldened by her moans and buckling of her knees. He catches her before she can fall, hoisting her up his long torso until he feels her legs latch around his waist. They kiss until his lips are sore, his tongue deep in her mouth as she nibbles at his mouth. The flavor of chicken and wine explode on his tongue as he licks deeper, intoxicated on Dalmi and her addicting lips. 

She teases the rim of his ears, breaking their kiss with a wet smack as they gaze into each other's eyes.

She looks as dazed as he feels. Eyes blown wide as she pants in his arms, almost boneless in his hold as she lets him take the full weight of her body. he barely notices, he has carried her too many times to count. It has become something of a habit. He’ll never recover from the spark in her eyes everything he lifts her, the faint blush on her cheeks. One of the only times that he can make her shy. 

"Dosan-ah."

He hums fighting to pay attention with Dalmi looking so breathtaking in his arms stroking his hot ears.

"We need to get you a bed. Very soon hmmm?"

This time he knows exactly what she means and he groans hiding in her shoulder as she rubs his head.

Bed. Yes. Getting that immediately. Maybe stores are open. He should go get it. 

Right now. 

[aros001]

Going in blind: Watching season 1 for the first time. Random thoughts.

This show is kind of nice because I have no memories of the original She-Ra show, or even any of He-Man, honestly. I'm not sure if I ever watched the original, so I have no frame of reference for how the series is "supposed" to be. I can just take it and judge it as is.

Of the bat, all I know is that supposedly She-Ra and Catra get together as a romantic couple later, but I'm also a huge My Hero Academia fan and the fandom around me ships every character with every other character, so for all I know that might just be shipper wishful thinking I've been seeing and hearing. Given fandoms for Gravity Falls, Thor, and Supernatural ship even siblings together, I've learned not to trust anything except for what I see in the series for myself.

By the way, this isn't a review, just random thoughts and comments I'm having as I'm going through season 1 for the first time.

Episodes 1 and 2: Right off, I really like Catra's "No duh" response to Adora about the truth of the horde. She knows they've been lying to them and have been doing terrible things, she just doesn't care. If she and Adora play their cards right they could end up being the ones in charge and then they'd have all that power. Not necessarily to make things better but enough to where they could do whatever and live however they want. That's a good build for an antagonist. Not ignorant to the fact what they're doing is wrong, just simply so selfish that they don't care.

Episode 3: It really feels like there was no good reason why Glimmer didn't just outright introduce Adora to her mother and every reason she should have known it was a bad idea to try and hide her for a surprise. Being a former horde soldier she'd probably get treated with hostility if Glimmer brought her to the front gate but you'd almost guarantee Adora would get arrested or outright killed if she got caught while no one else knew she was there.

On the other side, we have Hordak being pretty intelligent in promoting Catra. He probably knows Shadow Weaver already doesn't like him, so it's not like he's losing anything making her upset with him, and it's clear she favors Adora way more than Catra, so that little bit of advancement towards Catra probably goes a long way in earning her loyalty to him and a person on the inside with Shadow Weaver.

Also, I'm not the only one who saw Madam Razz and immediately thought Adora had found her Yoda, right?

Episode 4: I don't know how it was in the original She-Ra and He-Man series but I kind of like She-Ra being this title from legend. Adora is not the first She-Ra, given what Razz was talking about with a Mara, so instead of being something new, impressing everyone with abilities they've never seen before, and creating the legend, Adora is placed in a position WAY over her head where she's having to live up to what came before her.

Episode 5: Calling it now, as long as her personality is genuine I think Scorpia is going to be one of my favorite characters in this show. She's...endearing, I think is the best word. She's like a mix of Kronk and a nicer Shego.

For a little bit I thought Mermista was voiced by the same actress who played Poison Ivy in the Harley Quinn animated series. She's not but they do have the same kind of Daria-ish inflections, thus by confusion. Given the prom episode, Sea Hawk feels kind of like her Kite Man.

Episode 6: Okay, now it's between Scorpia and Entrapta who are likely to be my favorites by the end of this. She's fun and quirky.

Episode 7: Quite the lore drop. Shadow Weaver was once a Mystacor sorceress known as Light Spinner. I like to imagine we'll get more on that later. Her haunting Adora reminded me of the Teen Titans' episode where Robin was similarly haunted by Slade. This didn't go as far as that but that's probably for the best, since TT had two and a half seasons to build that dynamic up with Robin and Slade while we're only now halfway through the first season.

Episode 8: Well dang. Again, I don't know for sure if Adora and Catra do end up together but boy do I buy why they're shipped together after that dance. Also, good on Bow for standing up for himself. It's clear that he'll always be Glimmer's friend and this won't change that but that doesn't mean he has to just accommodate her. I understand where her issues stem from but I am still glad he gave her a reality check. It helps him feel a little more like his own character.

Also, another nice little bit of lore and worldbuilding. Scorpia's a princess, the horde landed where her people lived, and they seemed to join them willingly.

Episode 9: Surprisingly don't have a lot to say about this other than I don't buy for a second that Entrapta is dead (EDIT: She's not). This was mostly action.

Episode 10: Not going to lie, this one kind of annoyed me a little, at least the first half. The conversation between Glimmer and her mother saved it a bit. It was a bit of a trifecta. You have the alliance breaking apart, saying that the loss of Entrapta only happened because they were all together...even though Entrapta only "died" because of her own machine obsession that caused her to deliberately walk back into the purging chamber. You have Entrapta who might be turning to the horde's side because she feels abandoned by the other princesses...even though they thought she was dead, and again it was her fault they got separated. And you have Glimmer refusing to tell her mother that Shadow Weaver's dark magic has caused her powers to go on the fritz and is causing her great pain. It just feels like none of this would be an issue if most of these people would stop being self-absorbed for three seconds and talk like any normal person would. It feels very CW drama, like something I'd see in a bad season of Arrow or The Flash. The only person whose issues I buy is Adora, who is basically a soldier who was never properly raised to deal with emotion or loss and is already struggling with the burden of being She-Ra, the legendary savior. I get why she's beating down on herself for not being able to do more even if nothing that happened was her fault.

Episode 11: JEEEEEEEEEZZZZ, that was such a good episode! Focused entirely on Adora and Catra and their past together. Like, just showing someone this episode alone could probably get them to want to watch the series. That was everything you needed to know about their dynamic and history together.

Also, that moment when Catra and her past self are looking at each other, while obviously Catra takes the opposite lesson, it reminded me of this fanart I'd once seen of Jason Todd, the Red Hood, looking at his past self as Robin. The past says to the future "You ruined everything". Catra could be happy but, ironically for someone who hates Shadow Weaver, she's probably going to be a lot like her, sacrificing everything for power and ambition.

Given the way she looked, I'm guessing Shadow Weaver is either addicted to the power of the Black Garnet or she suffered some kind of past injury and its power is the only thing keeping her going. Or both.

Episode 12: I'll be honest, Swiftwind being able to talk kind of gobsmacked and I needed a moment to recover. What a great voice they chose for that character.

So She-Ra is kind of like the legendary heroes from Rising of the Shield Hero, coming from a long line of people chosen to wield the sword. I tend to dislike chosen one types of stories because I think prophecy takes a lot of weight out of the character's actions, so this and Avatar are more what I like. The MC is special but not the only one who's ever been special and they can still easily fail. Their destiny was only to be able to use the weapon, not that they would succeed in any specific purpose.

And dang, Catra's turn against Shadow Weaver happened faster than I thought it would but I'm not complaining. That great "This is what you've really been preparing me for" speech and Hordak, again, being an intelligent villain. "Oh, this experiment could net me a MASSIVE gain and all it could potentially cost me is this rock I already gave away to someone who lately hasn't been producing any results and has been consistently disobeying me. Yeah, I'm going to let this play out."

Episode 13: That was kind of a brutal fight between Adora and Catra. Not the worst I've ever seen even in other shows for this age range (Samurai Jack, for example) but those punches are connecting and those claws are leaving marks.

Also, maybe I'm just misunderstanding the exact situation but shouldn't the good guys' side be called the Resistance instead of the Rebellion? Being a rebellion would imply they are rebelling against an established power or rule over them, but the actual conflict we are shown is the established power and rule that is the kingdoms of Eternia resisting an outside force that wishes to establish a new order over them.

Season 1 verdict: I'm into it. I'm definitely more invested in the villains' side of things but that's not a fault of the series, that stuff is just way more geared towards me than the current princess stuff. I actively am at attention whenever the horde main characters are on screen. For the good guys it's mostly Adora and the She-Ra stuff I'm invested it. That isn't to say I have any real dislikes for that side. Bow especially I'm liking much more than I thought I might. He has kind of this gravitational pull around him. You will be his friend regardless of how much you might want to resist. He's definitely the rock for everyone else to hold onto.

Minor side note, kind of like Korra in Legend of Korra, I love how even when her powers aren't active Adora is shown to still be pretty strong physically with how easily she was lifting people up at the prom.

And I was right, Scorpia is my favorite side character.

On to season 2!

Original Reddit post: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrincessesOfPower/comments/nyll2e/going_in_blind_watching_season_1_for_the_first/

[just-another-ficwriter]

Cruel Summer - Part Five

Pairing: Sweet Pea x Reader

Words: 4000ish

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, underage drinking, alcohol, implied smut

Summary: Sweet Pea turns up at your front door with a packed bag and no where else to go. When a few days turns into a couple of weeks, old temptations become a struggle.

Notes: I’m so sorry for how long this took, but I hope this makes the wait worth it!

 He looks up grinning like a devil.

"So let me get this straight..." You watch him cautiously from behind your kitchen counter, taking a minute to replay the last 10 minutes in your head. "Katy kicks you out because of our past and the first place you come is here?"

"Well I couldn't stay at Toni's with Cheryl could I?" His question makes you cringe and you both silently agree that Toni's place wasn't an option. "And Betty would never agree to Jug letting me stay when she's trying to remain impartial to the whole thing."

You let out a sigh, busying yourself with the first thing you can get your hands on just so you don't have to look at him. "I don't think this is a good idea Pea."

"My only other option is to follow Fangs back to Riverdale but my whole life is here now, my job, Katy-" You. He blinks back the thought hoping it won't roll off his tongue as easily as he thinks it. "Please? Just a few days until I can figure something else out?"

His pleading makes you risk a quick glance at him to find him already staring back, eyes full of hope. It makes you wish you hadn't bothered when your heart flutters and you know you won't be able to hold out much longer. "A few days, that's it."

"Thank you." He grins up at you, all perfect white teeth on show and has to refrain himself from rushing up and hugging you.

You smile back at him, lips pressed together tightly to suppress a laugh. He bites his bottom lip as the silence around you grows slightly awkward and you suddenly jump into action. "Did you want something to drink? I've got tea, coffee-"

"Anything stronger?" He cuts you off as his eyes flicker to your half empty wine glass on the coffee table in front of him then back to you.

"I'll grab another glass."

-

He lifts the wine glass to his lips, takes one big gulp and thinks about pouring another glass. Between the two of you, you'd finished off three bottles yet he still felt nervous at the thought of his next question.  "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything." You lean back on the sofa, your legs tucked underneath you and one hand under your chin. You watch as he debates how to say what he wants to, feeling a lot more relaxed than when he first got there.

"You and Fangs, did you... are you?" His words come out in a mess and he isn’t sure whether it’s the alcohol or his embarrassment. He feels stupid, it shouldn’t bother him but the idea makes his heart sink.

"Sleeping together?" You giggle loudly and for some reason it makes him laugh too. "God no."

He’s so relieved he lets go of the breath he didn’t know he was holding and starts to ramble again. "I just thought with you guys sharing a room, and I saw you in the car, then there was Katy and Ronnie all weekend-"

"Pea I would never." Your hand falls to his knee in what’s meant to be a sincere gesture but he flinches under your touch and it makes you regret it.

You're ready to pull it back and pretend it never happened when he covers your hand with his own to stop you, his eyes watching his own thumb drawing circles on your skin. "Good."

"Why?" You feel yourself gravitating towards him and you know you shouldn’t ask the next question but you do anyway. "Were you jealous?"

"What would you say if I was?" A few seconds of silence follows, his body moving forward an inch or two. He licks his lips in anticipation and you're sure your hearts about to burst out of your chest.

"I'd tell you, you were being stupid." That’s all he needs to hear to move again, your lips almost touching. You notice the way his breath catches in his throat, and whisper, with your palms against his chest. "We shouldn't do this."

"We definitely shouldn't do this." You knew there was a million reasons not to, but not a single one comes to mind at that moment, you were too distracted by the way he was looking at you, and how he good he smelt up close.

His lips met yours with such need, such desperation that you can’t help but give in immediately.

-

You wake up to the smell of bacon and an overwhelming sense of guilt.

You try not to think about the night before but it's hard to forget the feel of his hands on your thighs or his lips on your neck.

Or how good it felt.

You open your eyes to find his side of the bed empty and you're part relived, part disappointed.

So you shut them again instantly, pulling the covers over your head with a groan and wonder how long you can get away with hiding out in your room.

You last 11 minutes and 26 seconds before you can't ignore the rumbling in your stomach anymore and force yourself up.

You find Sweet Pea in the kitchen, shirtless back facing you as he leans over the stove.

Your heart stops when you see him like that. You've come a long way since you were teenagers playing house in his trailer but sometimes it's liked nothing’s changed at all.

You lean back against the door frame, arms crossed over your chest and watch him move around effortlessly like he belongs there. "Are you making breakfast?"

"Your favourite." He smiles warmly when you join him at the breakfast bar and then something clicks and he suddenly realises that this isn't his kitchen, and he hadn't asked before he helped himself. "I hope that's okay?"

"It's fine I just-" You can feel the heat burning your cheeks as you take in what he just said. It surprised you to hear he still remembers little details. "You still remember my favourite breakfast?"

"Of course." He states with a bashful grin, sliding the freshly made food in your direction. There’s something comfortable about his gesture and once again you’re reminded of your teenage years.

Memories you’d spent the last three months wishing you’d forget.

"Thanks." Your eyes don't leave the plate as you try desperately to gain some courage. "So we should probably talk about last night."

"Right last night." He turns his back on you again, making it impossible to read his reaction and the pressure on your chest becomes even more unbearable. You search your mind for all the things you need to say but it all seems impossible.

"Pea it was a mistake." The words end up coming out in a blur, like ripping a band aid clean off, fast and quick. You can hardly make sense of them yourself. It’s far from anything you’d hoped it would sound like. "We can't do it again."

"You're right, it won't happen again." You pretend to ignore the slight quiver in his voice as he agrees with you, his hands gripping the work top. When he turns back around he's still smiling but his eyes look anything but happy. "Let's just forget about it."

-

You know it's a bad idea before you do it.

You don't know why you slip into his t-shirt that's somehow mixed in with your own clean washing a week after he'd moved in, but the way it falls to your thighs makes you smile anyway.

You don't hear his keys in the door, too busy in the kitchen with a spatula that doubles as a microphone to notice.

It isn't until you're on to the chorus, dancing along with the lyrics that he can't control his laughter and blows his cover leaving you frozen to the spot. "Don't stop on my account."

"This is so embarrassing." Your body feels like it’s on fire from his teasing and you pray for the ground to open up and swallow you to avoid your awkwardness. "I thought you were at work."

"Early finish." His beaming grin turns into more of a smirk and there's a playful glint in his eyes that you can't miss.

Your gaze follows his to your current choice of clothing and you're even more mortified than before. "I should probably get changed."

"I wouldn't complain if you didn't." Your draw drops slightly as he shoots you a wink, leaving you speechless as he walks backwards towards his room. "My shirt looks good on you by the way."

You can’t shake the look he was giving you for the rest of the day.

-

"Pea I home!" You’re barely managing to juggle everything in your arms as you call out to him. Somehow a few days had turned into two weeks and he didn’t seem to be leaving anytime soon. "I grabbed takeout if you want any!"

You don’t hear him coming but you can sense how close he is behind you, the warmth of his breath tickling your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. "Chinese food and left-over cupcakes, you're too good to me."

"And you're naked." Your eyes are wide when you turn to face him, and you can feel your chest heave slightly at the sight.

"I have a towel on if that helps." He takes a step closer and you take one back. But that doesn’t stop your eyes from following the water droplets that fall from his shoulders, over his chest and down his stomach.

You don’t need to look at his face to know he’s well aware of the affect he has on you right now.

"It doesn't." You roll your eyes, but he knows you don’t mean it. He just laughs instead, backing off so you can plate up. But it doesn’t stop your mind from wondering or have your heart beating any slower.

His little games were starting to become relentless.

-

Three weeks in and it’s hard to remember what your apartment was like before Sweet Pea moved in.

He’d invaded every inch of home. He never put the remote back in its place, he always left wet towels on the bathroom floor and you continuously tripped over shoes he left in the weirdest of places yet you knew you wouldn’t change a thing.

Except maybe the part where Katy hadn’t talked to you since the weekend at the cabin.

But that stings too much to think about.

You can feel him watching you from his claimed spot on the couch as you frantically search the living room for your one lost earring and mumbling words he can’t make out.

"You look nice." His compliment makes you smile and you pretend it because you’ve found you’re missing jewelry rather than the swarm of butterflies his words have set off. “Girls night?"

You can hear the underlying hopefulness in his voice and suddenly your chest feels tight. You can’t look him in the eye when you answer. "Actually, I have a date."

"Oh." His face drops when the idea of you on a date with someone else catches him off guard. He struggles to pull himself back together and the smile he forces is almost painful. "Well have fun."

"I will, don't wait up." You grab the rest of your stuff as fast as you can and leave without looking back.

-

Despite you telling him not to, he stays in the living room, thoughts wondering to where you might be, who you were with, what were you doing. He falls asleep pretending to watch TV, too anxious to go to bed until you wake him up stumbling in at 1am.

"Y/N?" The first thing he notices are how your eyes are red and glazed over, not just from the alcohol he can smell on you from where he’s sat, but from the tears that are still wet on your cheeks. "Are you okay?"

"Turns out my date was a jerk." You laugh without humor, throwing yourself down next to him and kicking your shoes off so aggressively they fly across the room. Your head lolls to the side and he can tell by the way you’ve started to slur that you’re drunk. More tears fall and he starts to panic.  

"What happened? Did he hurt you?" The idea terrifies him, and he tries to keep any anger at bay while he checks you over.

You just pushe herself further into the cushions, hoping they would just make you disappear. You felt so stupid right now. "No, turns out he no interest in me at all, just thought I'd be easy to get into bed."

"I'm sorry." He pulls you into him, an arm wrapped around your shoulder. He’s desperate to do anything to comfort you and make the crying stop.

"Why does everything have to be so complicated?" You move into him, tucking yourself into his side and mumble into his shirt.

"What do you mean?" His fingers absentmindedly work their way through your hair, and he notices the way it calms your breathing.

You sigh dramatically, hiding your face. "It doesn't matter, I can't tell you."

"You can tell me anything." His honesty makes you smile.

"It's just I..." You trail off, unsure whether to go on. "I just want someone to love me, is that too much to ask for?"

"Of course not." His chest aches. You deserved the world, you always had in his eyes. And he had loved you, so much at one point. In fact, he was sure that part of him would always love you no matter where either of you ended up or who you ended up with. But he couldn’t tell you that so he sighed sadly and hoped you wouldn’t notice the subject change. "We should get you to bed."

You don’t put up a fight, just let him help you up. No one says another word until you’re laying in bed and you catch his hand when he starts to walk away.

"Stay." Your voice cracks with the word and he feels his heart break. He hates seeing you like this, hates seeing you look so vulnerable and he knows he could never leave you like it.  

So he climbs in next to you and falls asleep with you wrapped in his arms.

-

After five beers and two questionable shots, Sweet Pea eyes hazily scan the bar to find you giggling on the dancefloor with Toni. It reminds him of late-night weekends at the Wyrm, feeling rebellious sipping on alcohol underage and spending hours on the pool table until you were all kicked out.

He swears he can pinpoint the sound of your laughter over the music and he realises how beautiful you truly are. You’d changed so much over the years that it hits him how much he’d actually missed you.

“So, are you going to tell me what’s going on?” He realises Fangs had been watching him watch you, and the knowing looking he was giving him made him chuckle with nerves.

He starts fumbling with the sticker on his bottle and decides to play dumb. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not stupid Pea, you can’t take your eyes off her.” Fangs, never being one to give up, pushes further, determine to get the answers he’s looking for. “And she keeps looking back.”

Sweet Pea just shakes his head, and takes a sip of his drink before answering. “It’s not that simple.”

“Isn’t it? Because seeing you two together, the four of us all being here-“ Sweet Pea knows what his best friends about to say before he says it, he feels it too. A sense of remembrance that’s been following him around for the last few weeks. “It’s like nothings ever changed.”

“Sometimes I think the same.” He admits, blowing out a breath.

“Then what are you waiting for?” Sweet Pea looks over him and realises he can’t answer, he’s starting to forget why he’s still holding back.

As if on cue, Toni makes her way towards them and pulls them both back into the crowd with her. You smile when you see him, he doesn’t know why it catches him off guard, but he can barely focus when you grab his hand and pull him closer to you.

And that’s how it starts.

Your back against his chest, swaying along with the music, his fingertips brushing up and down your sides.

Then it's his hand on your back, never moving as you weave your way to the bar, sharing a look that says a thousand things.

It's the way you fingers intertwine in the darkness of the cab, still staying locked together while you race each other to the right floor.

And then finally it's the way his lips meet yours the minute you're inside, bodies pressed up against the apartment door, pulling at each other's clothes like there's not a single minute you can waste. His mouth trails down your skin leaving purple marks behind, the more you scratch at his bare shoulders or tug on his hair the more he leaves.

This time he won't let you forget it.

This time, he hopes it won't be a mistake.

-

This time when you wake up, there’s no smell of bacon from the kitchen, and his side of the bed isn’t empty.

His arms tighten around you almost as if he can sense you’re awake and smiles automatically into your neck. “Morning.”

“Morning.” His skin is warm against yours and you can’t help but relax into him.

“So is this the part where you tell me this was all a mistake again?” You turn to see the smile on his face has turned into one of sadness and you run a hand through his messy bed hair.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Your voice is barely a whisper but you keep your eyes locked on his.

“I know. But what if there’s a way around it?” There’s a moment of silence between you as he struggles to piece his thoughts together. “What if we just both promise to leave any emotions out of it?”

He’s surprised when you practically laugh in his face and he thinks you are too. You look at him like he’s lost his mind and honestly, he isn’t afraid to admit that he does feel a little crazy right now. “Are you saying you want some kind of friends with benefits deal here?”

“Worth a try.” He shrugs in a last attempt to convince you.

“Pea I-“ You start with the intention of turning him down but one hopeful smile and you’re caving before you can even get the words out. “Screw it.”

It’s his turn to laugh as he pulls your leg up over his and kisses you in a way that steals all air from your lungs.

-

It's three weeks into your arrangement, when the doubts start.

It begins as a weird feeling in the pit of your stomach, like a distant thought in the back of your mind that you can't quite remember.

It isn't until the start of the fourth week that the doubt turns into full blown panic and you realise exactly what it is.

You barely remember the journey to the store and back, just the way your hands shook the entire time as your mind can't seem to focus.

You drink water until you're sure you might throw up and disappear into the bathroom for the most terrifying wait of your life.

You're still in a state of shock 10 minutes later, you don't even hear him come home.

"I'm sorry I didn't-" The way Sweet Pea bursts into the bathroom has you jumping out of your skin, eyes blowing wide. "Uh what's that?"

You couldn't find the words to explain, couldn't will your body to react and hide the evidence in your hands. So you just stood there, feet frozen in place, too scared to move. You assumed the look on his face mirrored your own as he stared back at you, opened mouthed, neither of you breathing in the tense seconds that followed.

"Are you..." He couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence, didn't even want to think about the possibility.

"I don't know." Your voice is weak, betraying how scared you really are and Sweet Pea deflates. "It's got five minutes left."

He says nothing as he watches you slide to the floor, joining you a few seconds later. He laces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand in what's meant to be a comforting unspoken gesture, but it only makes you want to cry. "What are we doing here Pea?"

"I don't know." He admits, his words an echo of yours a moment before. His chin balances on top of your head as it falls to his shoulder.

"What if it's positive?" You bury your face further into his neck, too afraid of the answer while trying to hide the embarrassment at your own stupidity.

"We'll figure it out." The ache in your chest eases slightly at his honesty but before you can say anything else a knock on the door has you breaking apart. "Should I get?"

"Ignore it, maybe they'll go away." But the knocking only gets more persistent and Sweet Pea’s frustration gets the better of him.

"I'll go answer, it's probably for you. I'll tell who ever it is you aren't here." He mumbles with the intention of getting rid of the visitor as quickly as possible, but his eyes meet a pair of familiar green ones the minute he opens the door and suddenly he can’t say anything at all.

"Nate." She breaths out, a smile growing on her lips. They hadn’t interacted at all since she’d thrown him out and everything hits him like a ton of bricks. "Hi."

“Katy?” You make your way out into the living room, blinking to make sure she’s really there and suddenly you can’t look in Sweet Pea’s direction.

“I’ve missed you so much.” She pushes straight past him to wrap her arms around your neck, but the hugs not nearly as comforting as you remember it to be. Sweet Pea’s gaze is hot on your skin, silently asking the question that hangs in the air between you and you shake your head briefly in a way to tell him the test had been negative. “But do you mind if I steal Nate first? We can talk later, put this all behind us?”

“Sure.” There’s an ache in your throat that makes your voice sound off but if she noticed her face doesn’t give it away when she finally pulls back. You feel like you’re a ticking time bomb of guilt, ready to explode at any second and suddenly, you can’t breathe. You had to get out. “You guys talk here, I’ll give you spare.”

You dart out of the front door before either can stop you, holding back your tears until you’re on the sidewalk.

-

When you get back they're both gone, alongside any trace of Sweet Pea ever living in your apartment in the first place. It's all replaced by a single letter that you don't have the stomach to read. A letter that you shove into a bedroom draw to become forgotten and start to go on with your life like the last 2 months hadn’t happened.

Sweet Pea Masterlist

Forever Taglist: @p-marie-sp

Cruel Summer Taglist: @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @luvlilreinhart @intoxicatedsixx @yall-wildin-like-siriusly @shembonzi @elliebear27 @ireadthatswhyimhere @nicole13letson @swangstopazx @waitingtobeimpressed @ornate-ribcage @armadaextra @elliemaemusicals

Sweet Pea Taglist: @80sand90simagine @wildberryyyy @hopelesslylosttheway

[crunchykiwibby]

Core Four

Hi! After days of my antics i had decided to show my drawings for my redrawn Descendants next to outfit clarification/ idea for my fanfiction (+ analysis because I love fashion analysis! I watched one episode of the topic and I'm hooked now-) also sorry about the poor camera quality I'll digitalize it soon 😭

So here's them all together:

So what they have in common is the use of patterns and somewhat baggy(ish?) clothing whether it's from the top, ( Carlos, Evie) or by the pants ( Jay, Mal). The next use is pictures or patterns which is pretty predominant in Mal's side of town ( The inner city/ a good most of the Isle except anywhere near the coast. Which is known to be Uma's side of town.) 9 times out of 10 you would see a lot of painted clothes with patterns or designs, pieces of leather or cloth in clothing that can form a pattern or pictures. It is very popular on the Isle to wear gloves, bandages, and something you can at least move in because sometimes certain areas get congested and you might have to jump from a building time to time, run away from a troll, or fight. Also it's good to wear clothes that hide stuff you stole or hide weapons compared to Uma's side of town where you kinda just casually have a dagger or sword out. The inner city fashion is a mix of military, grunge, and goth depending on where you are. And it also reflects in the fanfiction in their Auradon fashion which I'll describe later. Their outfits together all clash but it's unified in one shape or pattern which also presents their friendship.

MAL

So Mal doesn't have fear as she usually doesn't worry about being randomly shanked out of nowhere. Seen here I kept her purple/ green aesthetic but I used a very minium of pink which was her top which was magenta. Her outfit is quite girly tomboyish. Her top is a repurposed binder that she cloth dyed and painted green flames on. I did this changes because she's more of the rambunctious one in the group next to Jay so her clothes are fitted in the purposes of movement next to the fact of her always stealing and running away which I felt that the leather jacket limited her upper body in her og design, I do love the leather don't get me wrong! But it's more practical in fall/winter (assuming that it's pretty tight) than spring and summer which is when my fanfiction takes place. However the use of leather is shown in her pants as the her pockets is dyed leather. Her hair is more blunt like cut and a deeper purple more toward her hair in D3 (Which was the color I like the most) but it's not a long asymmetrical bob it's just a blunt cut bob and she keeps it that way for a while. She aims for that casual militant fashion a lot, as some of her outfits won't look like what is the one above since she's not jumping place to place in Auradon would lean towards edgy and militant for a while until Coronation and later in the series where it leans more like EGIRL/Prep as her hair gets longer and is just plain black and cut again so she would wear a baggy clothes with combat boots in darker shades of purple and green while some of her shoes consist of designs of her own graffiti in the earlier parts and eases slowly into more to skinny jeans and a shirt that's stuck in with some canvas shoes. You notice how her outfits would present a very dominant leader energy because her outfits would stand out a lot when she stands with the group. Reflecting her always in control and assertive role as leader in the group. Whether in maybe the graphics on her shirt or the pattern until later where her and the core four all equally stand out in their own ways but not clash with one another and she's not trying to outshine any of them. So her style choices in the beginning reflects how she sees herself more of a pawn to her mother and more of someone was placed in charge due to her mother's orders which makes her prone to have a harder time shifting from that mindset in the beginning.

EVIE

Her outfit is very male gaze oriented, intentionally as presented on how she was raised so how she dresses is out of place for normal people on the Isle that live more in the inner city as she dresses more for fashionable and what the Isle consider Auradon like. However don't get it twisted because her outfit is quite practical than one thinks. Her outfit is a dress with attached shorts that is hard to see due to her dress because she dresses in a way for the male gaze. Her sleeves are utilized in a way that she can keep weapons. Any weapon. Same applies to her dress skirt the cut is makes her capable of sneaking in a knife or something same rules don't apply to her purse as it just keeps makeup and a mirror in hand for quick access. Her dress is pretty tight at the waist as her mother always say "tinier the waist the better" and the closest thing of love she got from her mom is that she complimented her waist so her outfits then on compliment her waistline. Her colors are still blue and red as her mother thinks that what works because Snow White but later on she will have mementos of her mother's colors of red, black, purple, greens, and gold albeit jewelry or clothing pieces. Her shoes aren't made for any parkour. Most of her shoes are heels. Mother says a girl in heels fluctuate the legs. Her hair is in the braid as it makes her face pop out more, it represents also the strict beauty guidelines she follows due to her mother's influence so her hair will always be up and tight until later on she starts wearing it loser to present how confident she is in her skin. Her hair leans towards a black blue color it's has a blue shine if you see it in the sun which has a slight color reference to her D1 hair mixed with D3. As a result her Auradon fashion can be formed with ease as it's a easier transition since she dresses like that before going to Auradon so her outfits would be very reflective of what's popular in Auradon without the prep, so she would wear dresses but they would be in darker colors and have a few spikes. Of if she was wearing a skirt it would be a synthetic leather. Her fashion is edgy prep until later in the series where it's still edgy but has a color tune up a bit. Her outfits will very much reflecting of fitting in Auradon as much as possible and try to appeal to the male gaze in Auradon as she would try to look more modest and muted compared to everyone in the group until later on she's comfortable of being herself as she dresses more for herself and wears what's fashionable and what makes her comfortable than what her mother thinks. Her outfit choices reflects more of her needing to be approved by others which makes her have a wavering confidence in what she wears forming into her wearing clothes she would never be caught dead wearing but has to so she gets her mother's and other's approval until she realizes that she lives for her not anyone else.

JAY

This dude knows he's a little shit. So he dresses like one. His is simple and it reflects that he needs to have places to store a box cutter and a cheap necklace. He's all about practicality. He hates and I mean HATES anything that prevents him from moving in absolute precision. There is no leather on him besides his pants which are similar to Mal's with the leather accents. Now his hair is long and just up until later he wears is down often and is just styled. So his Auradon outfits will reflect Mal in some form, it's different because it leans towards athlesiure, jock, and skater in many different ways until later he leans towards athlesiure and jock with a sprinkle of skeeter fashion with brighter colors and more simplicity so not a lot of patterns or graphics. His earlier outfits will always be outshined by Mal. No matter how similar it can be it will always be outshined by Mal. His outfit choices shows how he just goes along with Mal because that's who he knew the longest next to the fact that he doesn't crave the same need for power and leadership as Mal does he just in it for the loot and his mindset isn't about teamwork it's just what works for enough for him to get his share until he notices that he gets and works enough to get his share but...he isn't noticed that also made sure everyone get theirs, just somewhat ran over just because everyone assumes he doesn't care when he does or take it for themselves so they get brighter and become separate and drastically different from Mal making him shine.

CARLOS

His outfits are practical yet fashionable like Evie's but simple. He wears anything that makes him blend in blend in. He blends in so hard that Evie stands out more than him. His clothes are very two sided like his mom's hair but he only literally have one outfit since being on the Isle and what was in his bag of stuff when he went to Auradon was like a few inventions and games and some pictures and his oversized jacket and finally getting new clothes given by Evie and some new friends he makes as seen worn here because he doesn't really go out. His hair remains the same and just gradually gets longer and he can place it in a ponytail. Which if posted on his friend's stories just looks like a maltese ponytail. His Auradon outfits are simple and blends in more better in Auradon than Evie's. He mostly wear button up shirts with some pants or sweater. He just is scared and a lot of his clothes represent security in the beginning so some of clothes would be bagger than others until later he becomes more secure and wears clothes that reflects his newfound happiness and security which is more fashionable and what's popular with Auradonian boys while being himself. As with such with the two-sided clothing from before it also presents what his personality is like really in real life, and his oversized jacket is washed its a pure white jacket. He's witty and comical and iconic while also being anxious and terrified. So his outfit choices reflects him coming out of his shell show what more of him meets the eye making him be the iconic king he is.

I hope that this analysis makes sense 😭 please let me know if it doesn't! Also i would like to hear some suggestions because ironically fashion is also not my strong suit and I'm worried that I made them too ooc but know disney i probably wasn't far off smh-

[bijackkellys]

thunderstruck ; part one

lazarus, or the return of jack kelly

Fandom: Newsies (All Media Types) Relationships: Jack Kelly/David Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer Word Count: 1,651 Dedications: a huge shoutout to my gf, beta reader, and number one fan @mistyw273​, and to @dimenovelcowboy​ for supporting me endlessly. tag list (if you’d like to be added to this list just send me an ask or dm!): @santa-fe-maniac​ @pulitzers-world​ @yo-let-me-get-a-milkyway​ @verified-dumbass​ @jewishdavidjacobs​ @agentsnickers​ @thetruthabouttheboy​ Author’s Note: hey readers! i want to start by saying thank you so much for all the support and interest so far—i was honestly not expecting to get so much feedback with just the introduction but i'm really thrilled so many people are here for the ride! i figured i would go ahead and put part one up; this is the only back-to-back update i'll be doing, but i wanted to have more than the prologue out there. from this point forward i'm going to try bi-weekly updates on tuesdays and fridays (that's tentative and subject to change depending on how things carry on, though!). again, thank you for your interest and i really really appreciate the feedback, it honestly means the world to me. with that, let's get on with part one! 

read it on ao3

five months later.

JACK DOESN’T KNOW WHEN he started running, and doesn’t know where to stop.

Right now the world is this hazy, deafening thing. The streets loop endlessly around him, too bright and too loud, a mix of over-saturated colors and sounds he can’t pull apart. In the middle of it all he feels as if he’s drowning. He’s drugged up to his eyes, this much he can tell—there’s little else that he’s aware of, though, except for his feet pounding against the pavement and this base, animalistic instinct in the back of his brain telling him to go. To run and run and keep running. 

So he does. Buildings and road signs and people dissolve into background noise as he tears through the streets. Someone is after him; as disoriented as he is, he’s sure of it, and it’s that hot rush of fear that keeps him going more than anything else. A spike of adrenaline pushing him forward. 

Maybe he’s lost them miles ago, but it’s not until the moment he thinks his legs will give out underneath him that he collapses against the back wall of an alleyway, sputtering for a breath. His lungs burn and he feels dizzy, but Jack pushes past the blurred images in his head and the low ringing in his ears to catalog what he knows. His name is Francis—no. He swallows dryly and starts again. His name is Jack Kelly. He’s eighteen, maybe nineteen, now, depending on how much time has passed. He’s an art student, and a superhero, and there was a fire, and then—

And then everything fills up with static and the feeling of hands on his skin and this harsh, chemical smell. His stomach turns. 

Jack hates feeling like this, like he’s been separated from his own thoughts. The lack of control that comes with the clouded figures where his memories should be is enough to make him vulnerable in a way he hasn’t felt in years, exposed like a copper wire that’s been stripped of its casing. 

And the current—that’s gone altogether. There are silver cuffs biting into the skin of his wrists; the seam that held them together is broken along a jagged edge, but the slim band of green light lining them means they’re still suppressing his powers. Jack aches for the buzz of electricity to come back, needs them off. He twists his hands desperately and in doing so, makes his drug-addled brain suddenly aware of a cold piece of metal clenched in his fist.

He opens his palm. It’s a flash drive. His mind dredges up a fuzzy memory of ripping it from a computer port in what he thinks might have been a control room. He doesn’t know what it contains, but if he’d held onto it so desperately that it became second nature, then it must be important. He needs to find a computer, he thinks abruptly, and then stands up and immediately sways on his feet. 

Okay—okay. Not yet, maybe. Before that, he needs food and water and rest. He needs the lodging house, except he has no idea where he is, and in the state he’s in, he barely knows which way is up. He needs—he needs to call Crutchie.

Jack is struck suddenly by the overwhelming desire to hear his pseudo-brother’s voice, strong enough that his chest physically hurts from it. It’s been—weeks, maybe? months?—the longest they’ve gone without seeing each other since they were kids. If he can get his hands on a phone and get Crutchie on the line, he thinks, then powerless and drugged or not, he’ll be okay. 

It’s not much of a plan, but it’s a start. All he has to do is find a phone. This is easier said than done, though; there’s still a payphone booth left next to a nearby subway station, rusted from lack of use, but he doesn’t have any money. He’s aware of how he must look, a boy in tattered clothes with cloudy eyes and words slurred together, begging for change. More than one person threatens to call the police. Most of them just push him away. Jack feels his desperation pitching upward quickly, tightening in his throat.

When a stranger finally hands him a few quarters with a wary look, he’s not sure if it’s fear or pity or some combination of the two that makes her do it. He’s grateful all the same. He rushes over to the booth, blood roaring in his ears from the anticipation. His hands are shaking so hard that his fingers stumble over the keypad, but he knows Crutchie’s number by heart, is sure he could dial it in his sleep. It goes to voicemail and Jack shoves the receiver against his ear.

“Crutchie, it’s me—it’s Jack. Please pick up.”

When he slides the second quarter into the slot and calls again, it barely has a chance to ring.

“Jack is dead.” Crutchie’s voice comes through, wavering. Jack almost chokes on his relief.

“I’m not,” he says, and there’s a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line, and then a noise that sounds like a broken sob. 

“No—”

“Crutchie, I’m here. It’s me. I’m not dead.”

“How…”

“I don’t know,” Jack says, truthfully. 

“You—you can’t—fuck, Jack.” And in the middle of everything, Jack is caught off guard because Crutchie almost never swears. There’s a long quiet, broken by just the static-filled sound of Crutchie crying. Jack’s own cheeks are wet. “It’s been five months,” he gasps finally. “I thought—we all thought you died in that fire. Holy shit. Where have you been?”

Jack’s head spins. He hadn’t even realized how much time has passed. Five months...it’s June now, then, and the spring semester of classes is already over, and he’s nineteen, and there’s this gaping chasm of lost time in his head—

“—ck? Jack.” 

He realizes that Crutchie is calling his name abruptly, and Jack blinks, trying to clear his thoughts. “Yeah, I-I’m here. I don’t—everything’s fuzzy, Crutchie, I don’t know what happened, where I’ve been—” His words trip and stumble over each other. “I’m gonna try and find my way back to the lodging house, I’ve just gotta—”

“No, no, wait, you can’t,” Crutchie cuts him off, suddenly fierce. Jack pauses.

“What do you mean?”

His response is quieter this time, tentative. Slow, like he’s walking on his toes. “Jackie...how much do you know about what’s been going on?” 

Dread pools in Jack’s chest, hot and fast. For as long as they’ve known each other, he’s only heard Crutchie sound like this, scared and small and hesitant, a few times before. Something has gone deeply wrong; he knows it in an instant, maybe should have realized it even before now. “What is it, Crutchie?” he demands.

Crutchie takes a shuddering breath. “They said you set the fire,” he says, and Jack’s stomach plummets. “It was all over the news—they said the hospital wasn’t an accident, that Strike—that you—had planned the whole thing, did it on purpose.”

“No...” Jack feels nauseous, dizzy, sure in that moment that he’s going to be sick all over the pavement. His memories of the hospital brim with fear and heat and voices that echo in his skull, and the idea that the public believes he’s the cause of that, of all that death and destruction, hurting innocent people—he can’t stomach it. Doesn’t know how to.

“Jack, people were angry. Really angry. Not just at Strike—there was a whole new anti-super wave, worse than it’s ever been before, and now everyone thinks supers are dangerous and they started... taking people.” Crutchie’s voice goes even lower as Jack feels his heart crawl up into his throat. “They—we call them Snatchers, we think they’re in league with the police—they’ve surrounded the lodging house and swarmed half the city, dragging kids with powers off to someplace called the Refuge.”

Everything goes hot and sharp for a moment, a quick snap of recognition that burns like fire. Jack tastes metal in his mouth, chokes on it. “That’s where I was,” he says hollowly. He knows it even through the fogginess in his head.

“Oh, Jackie,” Crutchie begins, but Jack doesn’t let him finish.

“Are the others—is everyone okay? Race, Specs, Elmer—did they get taken?” The lodging house is a frequent stop for super kids who need a place to spend the night, but the three of them and Jack are the only permanent residents that have powers. If the Snatchers found them, they’d have been dragged off to the same fate that Jack has only just escaped. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if Crutchie says yes.

“They’re holed up with Spot in Brooklyn,” Crutchie replies, and Jack lets himself exhale. “I haven’t been talking to them a whole lot, because they’re trying to stay under the radar, but the last time I heard from them, they were okay.” He gives a rattled sort of laugh, devoid of humor and more exhausted than anything. “Shit, Jackie. Everything fell apart without you.”

Jack passes a hand over his face, wants to cry. Wants to scream and tell Crutchie that he’s lost and drowned and terrified, that he feels more helpless than he’s ever been, that for all the time he’s spent playing hero he doesn’t know how to save anyone from this. Instead, though, he sets his jaw. “I’m gonna fix this, Crutchie,” he says, half-promise and half-prayer. He’ll find a way.

“Jack—” Crutchie begins, but what he’s going to say next Jack doesn’t find out. The timer clicks, and there’s a robotic female voice in place of Crutchie’s that tells him the call has timed out. 

The line goes dead and then Jack is alone all over again, the vow he made weighing as heavy as the shackles on his wrists.