#oooooooh the plot

[ofthecaravel]

Heaven In Time

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Am I A Con Man Or A Brother?

Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Summary: A year or so after meeting, Sam and Danny are on the road again and hope to get through Sam's home state of Alabama with no trouble. Easy enough, right?

Tags: Religious trauma, hella guilt tripping/mentions of religious upbringing, Fighting, sauciness but no outright smut, healthy ass relationship

Words: 5.6k

A/N: Welcome back! Sorry! Let me know what you think. Chap 3 is in progress 👀 Also this is kinda random but would any of y'all be interested in a playlist for this fic? Do people still do that?

~~

“You gonna be good while I go in?”

“Ye of little faith.”

“You, mister, of chatting mouth and wayfaring legs.”

“Since when do you complain about my legs? You didn’t seem to mind ‘em when they were over your sh-”

“Hey now, hey now, okay. What did I just say about behaving yourself? Jesus Christ.”

Sam laughed brashly as he hopped up on the hood of the truck and made a show of crossing his legs with an angelic smile. Danny, standing over Sam with a firm grasp on his chin, rolled his eyes with the beginnings of a smile spreading over his tan face. It had turned out that Danny’s initial baseless accusations of Sam’s rebellious attitude had proven to be mostly accurate, with the only difference being that Sam’s tendency to wander around fell more on the side of striking up friendships with random strangers and impeding their errands schedule rather than picking fights with vagrants and ending up in the back of sketchy white vans. Over the last year they’d spent on the road, Sam’s increasing confidence and grasp on individuality had given him a smart mouth and big opinions. Gone were the days of the meek, awkward preacher’s son with a guilty conscience that sat on his chest like a rock. Now he stood tall with a proud demeanor and, more often than not, in cut off denim shorts with a cigarette hanging from his bitten lips. 

Sam settled on the hood in that same fashion then, pulling a cigarette from the pack bulging in the front pocket of his tiny shorts and sticking it in his mouth, pleadingly pushing it out towards Danny with a calculated batting of his lashes to get the point across. Danny rolled his eyes again but quickly pulled a lighter from his pocket and lit it up, secretly very pleased to be the one to dote on Sam. Despite Sam’s drastic change in personality making him a far cry from the dusty hitchhiker Danny had picked up back in Texas, Danny’s affection only grew as the months passed them by. It was weird for him to look back on how this trip had begun: alone and directionless, setting off from his family farm in Florida with no one at his side. Sometimes when they were driving, Danny found it hard to recall a time without Sam’s passenger side chatter. How did he get as far as Texas without it? Silence was distressing to him now. Still, he found great fun in requesting it of Sam.

“Just stay here and be quiet,” Danny requested with faux exasperation. “I’m only gonna be in there for a few minutes for snacks and paying for gas and the bathroom. I don’t want to come out to you preaching to your huddled masses like that time in Santa Ana.”

“I know,” Sam whined. “How many times do I have to tell you those guys came up to me?”

“Watch your tone,” Danny whispered as he leaned in, his grasp returning to Sam’s jaw. “What you should know is that I want to get us through Alabama as fast as possible, okay? For you, Sammy, remember that.”

“Yeah,” Sam grumbled, removing the cigarette from his lips with a guilty frown. “I do know. Sorry, daddy.”

Sam batted his lashes again and watched Danny’s face flicker at his words. It was a cheap trick, but it certainly didn’t hurt to slip in Danny’s favorite nickname every once in a while to win his favor in a matter of seconds. 

“It’s okay,” Danny instantly assured him, melting like he always did at the title Sam had appointed him. It only ever trickled into their daytime conversations when Sam was being truly appreciative. He gave Sam a quick kiss before letting him go and taking a step towards the gas station itself. 

“5 minutes max, I promise.”

“Go already,” Sam grinned, waving with a royal flourish as Danny tossed him a wink and went through the chiming doors of the gas station, leaving Sam to take a drag from his cigarette and watch its smoke unfurl into the clear sky above. It was a still, sweltering summer day, the kind of familiar weather that kept Sam aware of their presence in his home state. There was no way to get to their destination of Danny’s Floridian hometown without going through Alabama, which Sam kept swearing up and down would be no issue to him, despite the both of them knowing that Sam would no doubt have at least one instance of grief. So far he was having no problems, and as he absently bounced his shoe and closed his eyes against the comforting sun, Sam started to actually feel optimistic.

After a minute, Sam became aware of the creeping feeling that he was being watched. With his eyes closed it felt unfounded, but when gut instinct and a rolling chill over his otherwise sweaty skin told him to peek and assess his surroundings, he realized that he had good reason for it. 

Outside the gas station standing on the ledge of sidewalk facing the last pump was a young man dressed in a short sleeved, cream colored button down staring directly at Sam. His features were blurry because of the distance and because Sam only had one eye open to assess him, but Sam could see that he had his dark, shoulder length hair pulled into a neat, low ponytail and that he grasped a stack of pamphlets in his hands. This tidy, modest appearance hit a little too close to home for Sam and he scowled remembering when something similar used to be his daily attire. Danny had joked about Sam’s preaching, but he and his brothers really did used to stand on sidewalk corners like the guy in front of him now, waving their hands and crying out with adolescent passion. His scowl deepened and he closed his eyes.

Great, Sam thought in annoyance, pursing his lips against his cigarette. Rookie mistake to actually make eye contact with the guy. Now he’s gonna be over here any minute now asking me about my relationship with God. That’s gotta be the last thing I wanna think about right now. No, thank you.

Another few minutes passed and the creeping unease remained in the pit of Sam’s stomach and kept his ears perked uncomfortably. With an irritated sigh, he opened his eyes again and saw that, sure enough, the sidewalk preacher was still staring him down. He had even moved up a couple pumps, now only a few feet away from Sam. Doing his best not to look at the guy, Sam groaned and slid off the hood of the car, flicking his cigarette onto the pavement and crushing it under the rubber sole of his Converse. The man took this as an opportunity to hastily approach. Sam couldn’t help but give a theatrical sigh at the sight, leaning his head back to stare at the sky for another moment as a last ditch effort to ground himself before the inevitable nonsense. 

He must have seen me and Danny, Sam concluded mentally. And now he’s here to save my soul from our sinful ways. Whoopee.

“Listen, man, I don’t want any trouble,” Sam started, already frustrated. “I know the spiel, okay? God didn’t work for me, it’s nothing personal.”

“Sammy?”

Sam’s head immediately jerked forward to properly face the man in front of him. In an instant, he was drowned in cold and felt his knees threaten to buckle. He struggled not to disassociate, breathing urgently through his nose as his lips shut and refused to part. 

How could he have stared right into this face and not seen who it was in an instant? There was no else whose voice would crack with such specific inflection over his nickname; a nickname never given freely, mind you. 

The round brown eyes constantly shadowed from worry and late night prayer. The combed dark hair and disciplined posture. 

It was Jake, his brother, a thousand times over.

“Sammy,” Jake repeated. He sounded worn down and nearly pleading, seemingly just as baffled as Sam about seeing his brother before him.

Sam couldn’t speak, couldn’t think. His thoughts were thick with shame and gave no more room for that last little spark of hope that he could make it through Alabama unscathed. All he could do was gawk at Jake, who gawked right back at him with what he knew was a near identical expression to his own. He had always felt he existed as some warped mirror of Jake, and here he was, pressed up against the glass yet again when he thought he’d shattered it long ago.

“What are you doing here?” Sam whispered. With their hometown miles out from the provincial rest stop they were at, Sam was becoming increasingly convinced that Jake’s presence was a mirage brought on by the heat.

“What are you doing here?” Jake countered. His eyes were wild and darted over Sam head to toe. A hand came up to grasp his forehead, a nervous tic that Sam remembered (of course) and found oddly comforting to see after all this time.

“Gas,” Sam answered dumbly. It was true, but obviously not the answer Jake was looking for. Sam felt close to tears in a manner of seconds when hurt flashed over Jake’s face, clearly from Sam’s cold brevity and…well, everything.  

“So, you have a car now?”

“I-”

“Come on, babe, what’d I say? No mingling!”

Sam had hardly registered the crisp bell of the gas station doors cheerily bursting open, revealing Danny with an armful of beers and wrapped sandwiches. He wore a bright smile as he usually did when he was with Sam, and Sam watched helplessly as it fell at the sight of Sam’s face painted with frozen desperation. Never taking his eyes off of Sam, Danny set his treasures down on his seat through the truck’s open window and was at Sam’s side in a second, a protective hand already up to shove Jake back if need be. 

“Can I help you, man?” Danny asked curtly, glaring down at Jake with his dark eyebrows furrowed menacingly.

“Who is this guy?” Jake asked Sam in an amused tone, as if he truly couldn’t believe that Sam would go anywhere near Danny. When Jake had known him, it would have been a fair assumption for him to make, but now there was nothing further from the truth.

“Who are you?” Danny shot right back, adjusting to stand partly in front of Sam. His shield and sword all rolled into one. Sam felt grateful for his protection but knew it was unnecessary. 

“Danny, this is, uh, my brother,” Sam introduced nervously, putting a hand on his bare arm and giving it a calming squeeze. “Jake, this is Danny.”

Jake held out a polite hand for Danny to shake, which he obliged with a mistrustful squint of his hazel eyes. In Sam’s stories about his childhood, Jake had never really been the enemy in any of them, save for silly childhood disputes. But his compliance never made him a hero either, and Sam knew that Danny was recalling all he could remember of Sam’s brothers from the rude way he pulled his hand back from the handshake. Jake didn’t appear to care at all, turning his gaze on Sam once more with a weak laugh.

“Have you been here this whole time?” Jake asked. “We read your note, of course, but forgive me for beginning to think the worst had happened when there was absolutely no trace of you anywhere. Mom started reading the news all the way up in Montgomery just in case there was mention of you.”

“No, uh, I’ve been traveling,” Sam explained, incapable of making eye contact. “Mostly stuck to the Southern states, but, yeah. We’re actually not staying, we’re headed to Danny's place in Florida right now.”

“Wow,” Jake remarked blankly, nodding thoughtfully. “Okay. We, huh?”

“Danny was kind enough to pick me up in Texas,” Sam clarified, nodding towards Danny. “We’ve stuck together since then.”

“Somebody had to keep him safe,” Danny said in a clipped voice, looking Jake up and down with an accusatory glare. Jake continued to not acknowledge Danny’s obvious distaste for him and pressed onwards. He gave another nod that turned into a disbelieving shake of the head.

“How in the world did you get to Texas with no ride? I have about a million questions, Sammy, forgive me for my impatience. I mean, for starters, you look…”

Jake gestured vaguely to Sam’s bare bones outfit composed of a maroon band tee more suited to Danny’s frame than his (which made sense, considering it was Danny’s), meaning it fell so low it almost entirely covered Sam’s very short shorts. It was a standard outfit for him now, but the last time Jake had seen Sam, he’d been dressed in something nearly identical to the outfit Jake wore, complete with the long tweed pants in the blistering heat. Sam’s hair, kept long to compliment his newfound appreciation for his androgynous features and to serve as something extra for Danny to pull when they were caught up in motel bedroom devotions, was pulled into low frizzy pigtails that Jake no doubt found bizarre.

 For the first time in a long time, Sam began to feel self conscious.

“Different?” Sam asked, putting a hand on his hip. “Is that cool with you?”

“I…of course, it’s just…definitely different,” Jake agreed, a hint of venom finally tinting his words. “I hoped maybe you’d gone off to, you know, spread the good word, but I can tell from your outf-”

“You wouldn’t have thought that if you’d actually read my note like you said you did. You know why I left, Jake.”

“Were things really so terrible?” Jake prodded, his condescending tone now entirely betraying his bright attitude. “So horribly bad that you just had to leave behind your entire family who has done nothing but love you, just by the way, and an entire church that you had responsibility in? I can’t think of a single person in Shady Grove that doesn’t pray for you each and every day. I can tell you didn’t have faith in us, Sam, but we had faith in you. Still do.”

“I wasn’t happy,” Sam hissed, tears finally stinging his eyes as he stepped forward and got in his brother’s face, still clinging to Danny’s arm as he waited for his chance to intervene. “Nobody listened to me! Or, yeah, maybe I didn’t speak up enough, but even if I did, you all would’ve just heard what you wanted to hear.”

“Come to dinner, Sammy,” Jake begged, putting a hand on Sam’s shoulder with a firm grip. “Come to my place. I won’t even tell Mom and Dad, but you’ve got to see Josh, at least. He talks about you in every single sermon, he-”

“You’re not listening,” Sam groaned defeatedly, flushing hot with frustration and humiliation. He felt Danny’s anxious eyes on him while his brother’s thick skull and saccharine words regressed Sam into a childlike tantrum. Jake shook his head as if it weren’t true, as if Sam was behaving completely out of line. That was something Sam really did hate about his brother sometimes; he could make him feel so stupid for nothing at all.

“Why can’t you ever admit that there are things about home that don’t work?” Sam raged on. “Just ‘cause they work for you doesn’t mean they work for me. I had to go, Jake. I, I have to go.”

“Let’s go,” Danny urged, his voice uncharacteristically cool and tense. “Ready when you are.”

“I’m ready,” Sam snarled, glaring at Jake one more time before turning on his heel and stomping to the side door. Jake followed with a frustrated huff through his nose, grabbing Sam’s wrist and yanking him so hard he stumbled.

“I love you, Sam,” Jake said firmly, passion flashing in his amber eyes. “That’s why I’m tough on you, okay? Mom and Dad love you. Josh loves you. Come home.” 

“No,” Sam barked, pulling his wrist away. “Get off, Jake, I’m fucking leaving.”

Jake stood and watched Sam climb into the passenger side and slam the door, pointedly staring through the windshield and ignoring his fuming brother as Danny hurriedly tossed the food and drink from his seat into the back. Jake smacked his palm against the door and won Sam’s attention again, who now saw that Jake’s furious expression had begun to devolve into tears.

“So, that’s it? That’s all you got to say?” Jake cried. “So high and mighty you can’t even say you love us anymore?”

“Of course I love you, stupid!” Sam yelled, grabbing an empty plastic water bottle out of the cup holder and smacking it on Jake’s head. “I just can’t love you here!”

Jake grabbed the water bottle out of Sam’s hand and tossed it right back at him, ducking when Sam fully threw it through the window. Jake crouched out of Sam’s reach as he pulled a pen out of his pocket and scribbled something urgently on one of his many disheveled pamphlets. Despite Sam’s flurry of smacking hands, Jake managed to shove it through the window and onto Sam’s lap. 

“That’s the address and that’s what time I’ll have dinner on the table,” Jake explained, his teary eyes flashing as he pointed at the pamphlet with vigor. “There will be two places set for you and your, your Danny, and I really hope to see you both!”

“I really hope you like disappointment!” Sam hollered, heart hammering like a jackrabbit as he and Jake launched into a new round of arguing.  

Unable to stand back and watch anymore, Danny rolled up Sam’s window for him and finally began to pull out of the gas station. Jake yelled something as they sped out of the lot, and Sam let out a frustrated scream in response. He was unable to look back at his brother, instead electing to fold at the waist and let out another muffled scream against his bare legs. 

Danny, frazzled from the sibling explosion that had just set off in front of his eyes, was honestly unsure on what the hell to do. He settled for a soothing hand on Sam’s back, rubbing calming circles and asking Sam to breathe and settle down in the most serene voice he could manage. Sam listened and managed to subdue his roaring need to shriek out his frustrations, but he stayed crumpled over with his head between his thighs. As always, Sam’s complete and utter silence was a million times worse to Danny, and he debated whether or not to ask him something just to get both their minds on a new track.

“So, you wanna go to that dinner, or…?”

Yeah, Danny regretted that the second it left his mouth. 

Sam’s silence persisted and Danny swallowed nervously, trying to appreciate the sparse scenery that surrounded the highway so that his brain had something else to do. 

-

5 entire minutes passed without Sam saying anything, which was probably the longest he had ever gone in the year Danny had traveled with him. He was never this quiet, not even in his sleep. But frankly, Danny couldn’t blame him. Danny’s heart broke for Sam, and he bit back regretful tears thinking of how he should’ve just stepped between them and pulled Sam into the truck before Jake got a chance to say anything at all. After another excruciating minute, he figured there wasn’t much use in spiraling, so Danny decided to pull over on the side of the empty road and turn off the truck.

“What can I do to help you, Sam?” Danny asked in a hushed voice, his hand returning to Sam’s back and tilting his head to try and catch a glimpse of Sam’s face.

Sam thought for a second, sniffling wetly before finally turning from the valley of his legs to miserably look up at Danny. Danny’s heart sank at the sight of his lashes heavy with tears and his nose and cheeks painted poppy red. 

“I don’t know,” Sam muttered, throat scratchy from exertion. “Take me out behind the barn and shoot me.”

“Sam,” Danny sighed at his dramatics, reaching over Sam’s head to click open the glove box and pull out a clean handkerchief. He presented it to Sam, who made no move to grab it, so he rested it on top of his head with a little smile. 

“Thanks,” Sam mumbled, still unmoving and sniffing pathetically. His gaze was blank and defeated and his face was still dotted with tears, which Danny lovingly swept away with a curled knuckle. 

“That was a lot,” Danny commented steadily, still trying to pry a productive conversation out of the ever stubborn Sam. “Definitely wouldn’t have picked that station if I had known your people would be anywhere near it.”

“He really shouldn’t have been,” Sam complained. “Shady Grove is, like, 10 miles out closer to the coast. But it’s not completely unheard of for him to go to the most random fucking places for his sidewalk preaching. Divine timing, I guess. Great.”

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Danny whispered, mirroring Sam’s posture as best he could to try and meet Sam’s eye. When he did, Sam’s bottom lip quivered and he clasped a hand over his face, letting out an exasperated groan that filled the entire cabin of the truck.

“I’m so sorry,” Sam apologized, his voice shaking with frustration. “You shouldn’t have had to see me like that. Fuck, he just makes me so crazy, it’s like I don’t even know what happens.”

“Don’t apologize,” Danny insisted, running his fingers along the soft hair at Sam’s temples to try and ground him. “He came at you pretty hard. I know he’s your brother and everything, but if you gave me the go ahead, I would’ve knocked him upside the head with the way he was talking to you.”

“I wish you had,” Sam grumbled. There was a sore pang when he said it, and Sam found himself falling quiet and staring into space again. “But, like…”

Danny had spent enough time with Sam to feel confident in his ability to read his mind, and from the mournful, longing glaze over Sam’s eyes, he made an educated guess as to where Sam’s head was at.

“But, like…you still kinda want to go to dinner tonight?” Danny asked, attempting to finish Sam’s sentence. 

Sam let out another theatrical groan and answered by gently banging his forehead against the pamphlet on his lap, which doubled as a nod in the affirmative. Despite the anxiety that the prospect of a dinner with Sam’s brothers stirred in Danny’s chest, he was happy to do whatever it took to get Sam through the night without trying to throw himself out of the truck. 

“Yeah, okay, we’ll do that,” Danny assured him, brushing his fingers against Sam’s flushed cheek. “And the second you say we need to go, we’ll go. Does that sound good?”

“Mmhm,” Sam hummed against the paper.

Danny watched Sam’s dejected body language for another minute before taking action again. With a quick jerk of the reclining lever, he laid his seat back and scooted until he was sitting in the backseat. After landing with a bounce on the leather, Danny shifted the beers and sandwiches once again while Sam sat up and gave him a quizzical look.

“What?” Sam asked simply, a confused smile very slowly seeping into his expression as Danny settled in the middle of the backseat and opened up his arms.

“Someone needs a hug,” Danny determined, beckoning Sam into his lap with a cheeky grin.

“You are so goddamn corny,” Sam whined. Despite his rolling eyes, he quickly scrambled out of his seat and clumsily landed in Danny’s embrace. Danny’s arms wrapped around him in an instant and Sam unraveled completely at the comfort, throwing his arms around Danny’s neck as he sank into his broad chest and nuzzled against Danny’s freckled shoulder. Danny held him tight and pressed kisses to the crown of Sam’s head as he felt the erratic cadence of Sam’s heart beating against his own begin to even out into a stable thrum.

“Feeling a little better?” Danny asked tentatively. Sam replied with a muffled hum against his skin and Danny laughed, smoothing the loose hairs that had escaped Sam’s pigtails and were waving wildly in the humidity. Sam pressed a kiss to his shoulder and Danny let out a happy hum of his own. Danny gave one of Sam’s pigtails a gentle tug to tilt his head back and met him halfway, closing his eyes with a smile that he pressed against Sam’s already puckered lips. While they got caught up in a lazy kiss, Danny carefully worked to slide the elastics from Sam’s hair and combed through his impressive tresses with his long fingers. Sam sighed into Danny’s mouth at the relaxing sensation, cupping Danny’s face and slipping his tongue into the equation while Danny indulged in a smug smile.

“I feel better,” Sam finally admitted, giggling when Danny mapped a trail of kisses from his jaw down his neck. “Much better, actually.”

“Yeah? You feel as good as you did last night?” Danny purred against his neck, grinning and bearing his teeth against his skin when Sam scoffed. Danny had found that this was another surefire way to keep Sam’s mind out of a dark place; tease the hell out of him. 

“Danny!” Sam squealed, batting his shoulders and squirming in his lap. “Shut up!”

“Oh, I’m sorry, who was the one talking about legs over shoulders no less than an hour ago?”

“I-”

“It was definitely you.”

“Hearsay!” Sam laughed. “Tell it to my lawyer.” 

When Danny lifted his head from his throat to smile at him, he could see the rosy glow had already returned to Sam’s face. Danny’s heart fluttered at the thought that he could be the person to do that to someone, much less someone as wholly deserving of joy as Sam.

“You wanna hear something funny?” Sam chuckled while Danny leaned back against the leather seat, one hand on Sam’s waist and the other still fussing with his hair.

“Hm?”

“We didn’t even get gas.”

Danny froze and blinked blankly. 

“...Fuck, you’re right!”

Sam’s raucous laugh filled the truck as Danny shifted and looked out the back window, staring longingly at the pump somewhere in the distance behind them despite it being entirely out of his sight.

“Damn. There goes my 15 bucks,” Danny grumbled. 

“You only put 15 bucks on the pump? Cheap bitch.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, do you have anything you’d like to contribute to the gas fund? Or would you like to keep dipping your sticky little fingers into it and spending it on cigarettes and cotton candy?”

“Absolutely,” Sam smiled triumphantly. “I mean, worse comes to worse, we can always stop in some seedy little town and get me a job working the pole. We’d have gas money for a year.”

“Fuck no,” Danny blurted. Sam cackled again when Danny bulged his eyes at the idea, his grip subconsciously tightening on his waist. “No, no, absolutely not.”

“Jealous?” Sam flirted, tapping the tip of Danny’s nose and winking. He rolled his hips as if he were straddling a stripper pole and Danny let out a suffocated groan at the sensation. Not allowing himself to dive into the salacious imagery Sam had conjured, Danny used his leverage on Sam’s hips to hold him still. 

“No, Sam, I’m super into the idea of you being half naked on stage in front of a bunch of podunk perverts,” Danny replied sarcastically, swatting his ass. “Of course I’m jealous, you little shit.”

“Well, you don’t have to be, ‘cause I’d never,” Sam cooed, clearly still delighted by Danny’s knee jerk reaction. “You know damn well I’m all yours.”

“Yeah, you are,” Danny hummed, chasing another kiss and mumbling against Sam’s lips. “And you know damn well you’re safe as long as you’re with me, right?”

“Since the day we met,” Sam confirmed, heart fluttering and racing as he recalled the first time he’d seen Danny. This was something he did almost every night to soothe himself to sleep, a practice that had replaced the psalm recitations he’d done for years after he steadily found them less and less effective at calming him. He’d picture Danny, nothing short of drop dead gorgeous in a ratty flannel and his combed out curls pulled into a ponytail, with his head tilted to the side as he regarded Sam and his pathetic little suitcase. Frozen in place, Sam’s thumb had stayed pointing up in the air for a beat too long as he assessed the amusing contrast of the gorgeous stranger in such a beat up hunk of junk. In the same way that something had urged Danny to drive through the thoroughfare in the first place, something had given Sam complete assurance that if he got into the truck with this total stranger, it would be the start of his life as opposed to the end. 

Despite the fact that they were far from being on speaking terms, Sam couldn’t help but thank God for it.

“Good,” Danny smiled. “Remember, the second you want out tonight, we’re outta there. You call the shots.”

“Don’t I always?”

Danny raised an eyebrow at Sam and Sam smiled with faux innocence, tucking a strand of hair behind Danny’s ear while Danny sighed fondly. Without the other knowing, both of them felt a sudden urge to tell the other one something. Something that had been on both of their minds for a long time. While it didn’t really need to be confirmed when the time they spent together spoke volumes about how they felt, it still had yet to be said. But Danny was worried Sam was a little too vulnerable at the moment to process the impact it might have, and Sam was worried Danny wouldn’t say it back, so they let the next few minutes pass with quiet chatting and kissing instead. Not that they could complain about that.

“What time is it?” Danny eventually asked, answering his own question by looking over Sam’s shoulder at the radio’s clock. “4:30ish? How long do you reckon it’ll take to get to Jake’s?”

“Only like 20 minutes if we backtrack and take some shortcuts,” Sam explained. “I’ll be our fearless navigator, of course.”

“That’ll be a first,” Danny muttered, which earned him a light slap on the arm. “Well, shit, what should we do for an hour? Anything fun to do in glorious Baldwin county, Mr. Navigator?”

Sam stared off into space for a moment, seemingly deep in thought as his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pushed out into a focused pout. However, when Sam’s eyes eventually fell on the space between their bodies and his eyebrow arched suggestively, Danny realized that he had fallen for an act. 

“Unbelievable,” Danny groaned as Sam smiled flirtatiously and pawed at his belt. “I thought maybe you knew some roadside attractions nearby we could go to. I should’ve known better.”

“I mean, we’re already back here,” Sam purred, sliding a hand up the front of Danny’s muscle tee. “And no one’s driven by since we pulled over.”

“Unbelievable,” Danny repeated, shaking his head slightly but obliging entirely when Sam’s lips found his and his hands made quick work of pulling off Danny’s shirt. 

This reckless nerve and seeming insatiability was one of many side effects of Sam’s newfound confidence. Ever since that inciting night at the motel where Sam had stayed under Danny until the sun came up and writhed nonstop from nothing more than kisses and hands on his hips, he had become hopelessly addicted to Danny’s touch. It was fully Danny’s fault for indulging him as often as he did, but he really had tried to take it as slow as he possibly could. Danny knew that Sam had no prior experience and very little knowledge of the body when it came to the pleasure it could provide, and he had wanted to give him a low stakes, enjoyable education.

However, this had become increasingly more difficult when he found Sam crawling into his lap time and time again with professedly innocent questions, all of which were whispered into his ear with hot breath that sent chills down his spine. Sam had insisted on hands-on demonstrations and begged so sweetly, which made it nearly impossible for Danny to continue the patient pace he had planned for him. This eventually cultivated in a “celebration” their first night in Los Angeles where Danny had caved entirely and awarded Sam his sacrament. He’d crossed the line between the divine and the Earth, called Sam his little lamb, and awoke the next morning with Sam’s head on his chest and his virginity (however conceptual that may be) locked up safe in the parts of his mind reserved for the most sacred sentiments. Deep down, Danny knew he’d be trying in vain for the rest of his days trying to replicate the ecstasy of truly feeling Sam for the first time. Fingernails dug so deep in his biceps he’d emerged with a single crescent moon scar, Sam’s hips bucking to accommodate Danny’s stuttering push into him, a pounding fist on the wall from outraged neighbors being drowned out from the rattle of the bedposts…that was a high Danny was going to chase to no avail. But he was more than happy to try. 

Plus, how could he ever say no to Sam? Maybe someday he’d regret letting Sam get whatever he wanted, but from the way Sam looked unbuttoning his jeans with his rosy bottom lip tucked triumphantly between his teeth, Danny was pretty sure regret was the last thing he was feeling. 

They were in for a hell of a night, so why not get as close to heaven before then? 

~~

Taglist: @holdingup-fallingsky @milojames16 @spark-my-nature

[mercymornsimpathizer]

do u ever read a book that's sooooo frustratingly bad that it makes u want to rewrite the whole thing from scratch. bc I do.

[solivcgant]

❛  you're not gonna get rid of me that easily.   ❜ - grumpy x sunshine meme @spirit-therapist

in retrospect, maybe he shouldn't have ENTERTAINED the idea of the supernatural with her. now he was stuck browsing through websites of others CLAIMING to have encountered something out of this world. "it's not that i'm trying to get you to leave.. it's just.." he paused for a moment, trying but FAILING to come up with a polite way to express his thoughts. "some of these posts sound really crazy or stolen from video games.."

[miquella-everywhere]

controversial opinion maybe: i dont think mohg should have ever beaten the allegations

It's like... I dont know how to describe it... A character who was initially perceived as evil, kidnapping their half-brother from their sacred resting place, with overall strange incestous/pedophilic implications.......

Only for the two-year long awaited DLC to come out for it to be like, "Naw it's actually a reversal were the Eternally Cursed Child is the predator who bewitched the poor sad man who established a Blood Cult, and kidnaps Albinaurics and War Surgeons and uses Maidens blood in rituals in the name of a bloody Outer God" who is the victim actually 🤪

and im like

[sparklestheunicorn]

Life looked from Death to Michael, both of them staring down at Life as if it had grown another head. With the way things were going, Life wouldn’t be too surprised if they had. “Did that conversation shed any light on the situation?”

“Nothing interesting apart from the fact that Michael doesn’t even know where we are inside his own subconscious,” Death said with a winning smile.

[onlyathief]

woulda been easy to tell her nah, now GIT, given that he couldn't possibly think of any reason he'd be interested in headin' home after all these years.

but bella had known what them words would do to remy, how they would bore deep to the bone, further still into the very marrow:

the kind dat has guilds workin t'gether...

his mouth felt impossibly dry, like he ad swallowed a mouthful of sand in the breath of a moment between that explanation and the heavy, expectin' silence that followed. she was waitin' for his reply and he could tell she already thought she knew what it'd be too, what with that red-lipped smile uncurling so smugly on her pretty face.

remy licked his lips, took a glance toward rogue, briefly, then looked back to bella.

"you got five minutes t'explain an' convince me."

belladonna chuckled and pushed herself up to sit on the kitchen counter as if she damn well lived there, an image of familiarity that made remy's blood hot.

"seems we gotta a strange lil' infestation. the kind dat you an' your new friends might know a thing or two about. new york ain't the only place reekin' of them alien freaks. these things surely ain't of earth anyhow, not your average cockroach y'see. i figure in a month... they'll have eaten up almost all of n'awlins. hmm, think i got a picture of one of them fuck'as we killed..."

remy neared the woman to peer at the held out phone. the picture was like somethin' outta a gruesome horror movie. somethin' inhuman, big as a man but almost insectoid in shape, laid split open and gutted.

"rogue..." ill feelin's about his ex showin' up like this had faded quickly. "you ever seen anythin' like dis?"

Why did she stay? Because Remy told her she didn’t need to go? Because she didn’t trust this woman who trespassed in her home? As well as her budding relationship. Rogue should be stomping away or screaming at the Swamp Rat for his deceit. Instead she was backing away, arms crossed over her chest but remaining in the foyer to keep an eye. To learn how much she had been lied to.

As if knowing she had crawled her irksome way under Rogue's skin, Belladonna continued her approach and sidled up to her husband. The increased proximity raised Rogue's hackles. It was hard for her to tell who she was more furious with in this moment- the woman growing ever closer to her man Remy, or that lying Swamp Rat himself.

Belladonna seemed unruffled by Remy’s harsh tone and words. Rogue's poison gaze took in the husband and wife pair as Belladonna teased a finger along Remy’s jawline tauntingly. She didn’t have to wear gloves to do so, boiling Rogue’s blood in her veins. “Ya look good, even with d’frown.”

Was there really no love between them as the Cajun claimed? His wife looked awfully beautiful cozy making contact with him. How long was a long time ago?

“Come t’bring you home, Remy. We got problems. The kind dat has guilds workin t’gether.”

Well that certainly had Rogue’s attention, even though she remained a passive observer. As passive as she could be while glaring daggers. Of course there was even more that she didn’t know about the man who had wormed his way into her life.

[osaemu]

i am a strong believer in soft and sweet gojo. when he tries being mean during sex, the tears on your face and the muffled cries make him fold so fast. he’d stop so fast and lean down to hug you and whisper so many praises and apologies in your ear. oooooooh my god i have a gigantemasorous praise kink it’s so gross please i just wanna be called a good girl and be treated like a princess :(((

PRAISE KINK: SATORU GOJO

✩ ‧ ˚. synopsis: he can't help but go soft when you look up at him through teary eyes. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. p –> v, creampie, praise kink (shocking), cockwarming, unprotected sex, dacryphilic themes, squirting, teeny tiny size kink. halfway through i changed the plot and this ended up way longer than i expected oops!

"good girl, stay just like that f'me," satoru mumbles, white hair falling into his eyes as he looks down at you. his thrusts grow sloppier the closer he gets to cumming inside of you, and the cute way you look up at him through unfocused eyes just pushes him over the edge. "f-fuck, makin' me cum faster than a vi—"

satoru doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence before his orgasm hits him, fast and hard, and his cum shoots out of him in a thick, hot load deep inside of your welcoming cunt. both your chests heave as satoru collapses on top of you, resting his body on his forearms and his forehead on yours. "heh, good job, princess," he exhales, closing his eyes and letting his lips curve into a smile.

"y'did so go— aw, wait, are you cryin'?" satoru breathes, eyes fixed on the messy tears that fall down your cheeks. he slows his relentless pace inside of you to a stop and lifts a hand to wipe away your tears, fingers light and gentle against your wet face. "c'mon, don't cry, baby, y're makin' me feel bad."

"s-sorry," you mumble, voice shaking just enough for satoru to notice. he tuts and kisses your cheek, lips lingering just underneath your eye.

"you did so good, pretty girl," satoru murmurs, lowering his body and lying down on top of you. his face is barely a couple centimeters away from yours, and as he lowers himself, you swear can feel his dick slide in all the way. "shhh, lemme take care of you," he coos when a soft moan slips out of your lips. "does it hurt?"

"a little," you whisper, looking up at satoru through wet eyes. he smiles tenderly back down at you, peppering kisses all over your warm face. his hips rest on top of yours, and every little shift of his body feels like an avalanche in yours—satoru's heavy, especially when you're already weak from an hour of sex in his sheets.

"you're so cute," satoru mumbles, lips touching the corner of your mouth. "n' so pretty, too..." his mouth finds yours and he kisses you slowly, hands involuntarily finding themselves all over you. satoru doesn't bother attempting to speak anymore as he just takes you and all your beauty in—to him, the whole world is less than nothing in this moment compared to you.

satoru lifts his head to let you breathe, a playful smile on his lips the longer he looks at you. "aw, princess, why're you still crying?" he tuts when another tear falls down your cheek. "was i that mean? m' sorry, baby, don't cry, please?"

"snf, it's not you," you sniffle, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. but the second one tear's gone, another trails down your face to replace it. "i.. i don't know why m' crying," you try to explain, but the way satoru tilts his head like a confused puppy shows that your efforts are futile.

"c'mere," he rolls over onto his back and pulls you on top of him, dick still lodged deep inside you. satoru's head falls back onto a plush, white pillow as he lifts one hand to caress the side of your face. "'m not gonna let you cum until you stop cryin', baby."

"why not?" you ask petulantly, thighs starting to tremble from how deep satoru is. even when he's not trying to drive you crazy, he still manages to with how little he's moving now. he already got to cum—in fact, most of his cum is still inside of you, held there by his unmoving dick.

"'cause i'm gonna think you hate me."

"i don't hate you."

"then stop crying."

"fine," you huff, a tiny smile starting to grow on your face.

satoru matches your smile with one of his own and he nods in approval. "aw, you're so pretty when you smile like that f'me," he coos, eyes rounding as if he's looking at the cutest thing in the world—which, to him, is you. "stay like that n' i'll let you cum, 'kay?"

he gives you a quick kiss on the cheek and nudges you off of him and onto your back, switching positions with you. satoru pulls out of you, cock glistening with a mixture of your slick and his cum before he plunges back inside and fills the empty space inside of you.

"t-toru—" you mewl out, thighs unconsciously clenching together before satoru pushes them apart again.

"shhh, be a good girl and—fuck, jus' like that," he groans, feeling your cunt clench around him with every thrust. a breathy laugh slips out of satoru's lips, a welcome addition to the wet, pornographic sounds coming from the two of you. "shit, baby, you fuck me up in ways you can't even fuckin' imagine," satoru mumbles, too lost in your shiny, dumbed-down eyes to form coherent thoughts.

with every thrust, satoru sinks deeper and deeper into your welcoming cunt, cursing and moaning about how good you take him. you're not really sure how long it takes for the coil in your stomach to snap—maybe seconds, minutes, even years—but it comes all at once, hitting you with the force of a wave and any remaining self-control you have dissolves.

you babble satoru's name over and over again, tears leaking out of the corners of your eyes as he talks you through it—in fact, you're practically getting off to the sound of his soft praises. "fuck, you're so cute, keep takin' me like the good girl i know you are," he groans, lips curled into a drunken smile. "gonna cum on me, baby? c'mon, use your words, i know y'can."

it's a miracle that he can keep running his mouth even as he gives you the best orgasm of your life—but somewhere in the hot fog that's your mind, you manage to gasp out a "yeah" amid satoru's increasingly sloppy thrusts. it feels like he's chasing his own pleasure more than yours, but you don't mind, because a moment later you're squirting all over his throbbing cock and holding onto him as if he's your lifeline.

"yeah, jus' like that, princess, you're so—" satoru cuts himself off with another laugh, chest heaving and eyes wild. he brushes his thumb underneath your swollen lips and wipes the little trail of drool. "fuck, what are you doing to me?" he mumbles, kissing you breathlessly, hardly caring whether or not either of you could breathe.

satoru watches as your eyes flutter shut and runs his thumb over your bottom lip. "heh, pretty girl, you did so good f'me," he whispers, a soft smile on his lips as he gazes down at you. "sleep well, you earned it..."

[thechekhov]

Dungeon Meshi Quick Reacts: CH40

Laios is apparently only good at drawing monsters.

You guys have no faith in him! Come onnnn

To that point, if the shapeshifters that are left are the most similar to the real selves, doesn't that prove that Laios actually knows them best? The other, easily-discounted shapeshifters were easily singled out as fakes because they were so caricature like.

The remaining fakes are just minutely different from the real selves. Chilchuk has slightly larger eyes, Marcille's hair is thinner, and Senshi has sharper features. What that says to me is that Laios is actually the BEST at reconstructing them in his mind.

Unfortunately, that. Kinda makes it harder.

Welll.......yeah. No, that makes sense.

This is a problem you all created 😂

This is legitimately making me question everything. Because like... Marcille A is acting pretty sus. But they've been through a lot, so maybe she's just depressed?

Oooooooh someone minmaxed into gayness. That's certainly a dependable strategy.

FAKE!!!!! He's the fake! Senshi would never deplete an ecosystem completely like that!!!!

ah yes, all sorts of nutrition. White rice is known for its nutrition like...... (looks at smeared writing on hand) carbohydrates and scant amounts of folates. Yep.

HE IS HANDSOME, BUT NOT "B"!! "A" IS ALSO HANDSOME!! THEY'RE BOTH HANDSOME!

.......guys. GUYYS.

Laios, you're such an absolute loser and I love you but please. Please turn on the autism. Just this once, please turn on the autism beam and point it at your friends. Please

"all of them! Everyone is fake! Including me!"

Wouldn't that be a plot twist.

why are both the chillchucks upset at this suggestion? shouldn't the real ones be relieved?

Illusions with physical traits, though? Is that not obvious once you start roughing it up with it? If something can be physical enough to fight, why not just use that thing to overpower the adventurer, then?

....so it's a vampire created illusion?

Okay, so because I saw someone else post this page to my dash about a week ago I'm actually fully aware of what comes next, and I can say with certainty that it does not ruin it. At all.

I gotta say, as a weird little kid that practiced barking like a dog and mimicking dog howls, this is making me feel SO SEEN. He's just like me fr.

And the fact that they're all supporting his talent........friendship is magic.

I'm so intrigued by this man and how his mind works.

Love is not letting your dumbass furry friend climb into the wolf enclosure at the zoo and try to fight the alpha of the pack.

This is. So real. I've never seen a manga commit SO MUCH to the weird little man trope, and I love Kui-san so much for this. This is true representation.

Dumbass recognizes dumbass. This is why they're friends.

I WAS WONDERING ABOUT THAT. I also didn't remember it!

Oh, hmm.....

I'm relatively certain the hand that Marcille grasped in the last chapter WAS the cat's hand. That means the cat followed them - but because no one knew she was there, the shapeshifter didn't create any illusions of her. That means she was just hiding out, observing everything.

Is she just sleeping in there curled up on the rice?

Ahhh, so it was a distraction.

[musicalmoritz]

Do you have any bsd hot takes or any popular ships you don’t like

Oooooooh I love this question!! BSD hot takes are my specialty so I’m just gonna rapid fire some with zero elaboration

• Saying that Dazai hasn’t changed is a fundamental misunderstanding of his character, as well as the major themes of the manga. This shouldn’t even be a subject that’s up for debate

• As for ships, I temporarily really disliked Soukoku but it’s grown on me again. I think my most controversial shipping takes would be that I really dislike FukuMori and Atsulucy

• I wish people talked about the Hunting Dogs more!! Like their actual characters, not just simping or ships (not that there’s anything wrong with those things ofc). Jouno specifically is soooooooo interesting to me

• Dazai being suicidal is another subject that shouldn’t be up for debate. Saying he’s not because “his attempts always fail” or “he wants to live” is a horrific misunderstanding of how suicide ideation works

• The reason Atsushi doesn’t feel like the protagonist is because most of the light novel content focuses on the supporting cast, which then gets integrated into the show and gives Dazai more screen time. Reading the manga by itself, Atsushi actually has quite a bit of screen time and development. There are also two light novels focused on him so like,,,yeah

• I’m sorry but it will always be WEIRD to me how many fans switched up on Mori when Yosano’s backstory got animated. It’s fine to like him ofc but why are ppl allergic to focusing on the female characters

• The plot is very straightforward ya’ll it’s like one of the most basic plot structures of all time. Stop acting like it’s impossible to comprehend

• It’s also WEIRD to me how so many fans deny Higuchi being abused by Akutagawa. We see him hit and berate her multiple times, these are textbook examples of abuse. Especially within a professional relationship like theirs that has a power imbalance…again, no idea why this is even a debate

• Look personally. PERSONALLY. I do think Mori is intended to be a pedo. I know a lot of people probably just rolled their eyes so I want to clarify that I have read every analysis you’re about to recommend me that says otherwise. I see that perspective, however it really seems to me that people are doing mental gymnastics to deny the obvious. Again this is just my interpretation so pls lower your guns

• I fucking love Fukuchi he’s one of my favorite antagonists

• Nikolai is queercoded

• I so desperately wish we got more focus on Gin. What we have on her is already so compelling and I would love for Asagiri to flesh her out more

• “Dazai leaving the mafia was a good thing that ultimately saved his life” and “It is rational that Chuuya would be upset over his partner abandoning him with no explanation” are two sentiments that can and should coexist

• Not really a hot take but the Buraiha Trio is my favorite dynamic in the series. I need an entire spin off that’s just them meeting up at Bar Lupin except nothing bad ever happens

• Oda’s death scene is one of the most impactful moments from anything I’ve ever watched or read. It genuinely changed my outlook on life

• And on that note, The Dark Era is my favorite thing to come out of BSD

• It shouldn’t be controversial to say that Dazai was abused by Mori. Not physical or sexual like a lot of fans suggest but child endangerment and manipulation are definitely at play here. Mori’s actions in the Dark Era should be considered an act of abuse on their own

• I don’t care much for The Guild as a whole but the individual characters are super compelling!! Fitzgerald’s comeback is one of my favorite parts of the series and I absolutely adore Louisa, Lucy, Poe, Margaret, and Mark. I hate Nathaniel tho

• I do believe that Ranpo is autistic coded due to Untold Origins, however a lot of fans get very stereotypical and weird with that headcanon. I don’t see that as often now as I used to but it’s still a thing to some degree

• Most fans only look at half of Dazai and Akutagawa’s arc together and completely ignore how it was pointed out to us that Dazai is trying to show Aku the light and make him stronger by pairing him up with Atsushi. He hasn’t stopped training him, he’s just doing so from a distance now because he’s aware he caused Aku a lot of trauma. Not saying their dynamic is entirely positive, but it has changed. There was a whole chapter to point this out!! But people exclusively look at every scene with them through a negative light and it leads to the fandom undermining the development we see from both of them

• Oh and btw, Akutagawa and Atsushi’s partnership is amazing. I’m a big AtsuAku shipper but setting romance aside completely, I love seeing their characters interact. Their banter is so funny and omg the mutual respect between them??? The parallels between their arcs??? The way they help each other grow??? Absolutely fantastic, Asagiri ate with that. I must confess I like them way more then Dazai and Chuuya as a duo

• All these male partnership duos and not a single one for the women, c’mon Asagiri😔 Give us a toxic lesbian pair (I would say Higugin but technically Gin’s partner is Tachihara so they don’t count)

• Kyouka is easily the most underrated character in the series. She’s incredibly well-written and, not to mention, one of the main characters. We see her more than Chuuya and Poe but do people talk about her more than Chuuya and Poe??? No, my baby gets ignored. Sad times we’re living in

• I do believe in the whole “abuse cycle/web” concept, however there is also a healing cycle that is far more important to the story and I hate seeing fans overlook that

• Dazai’s talk with Kyouka at the end of The Guild arc is one of my absolute favorite scenes from the manga and I wish people talked about it more

• Fans joke a lot about Atsushi calling Dazai a good person but I do genuinely believe Asagiri wants us to think of him that way. He is morally gray for sure, but currently he is dedicating his life to saving others, therefore most people in-universe would consider him good. His past actions don’t matter to the every day people he saves on a daily basis. Imo this line was an attempt to challenge what we generally consider to be a “good” person

• To elaborate on that, it directly parallels the scene at the beginning of Dead Apple where Atsushi points out that Dazai is visiting a grave. “Do I look like someone visiting a grave to you?” “Yeah, you do” / “Do I look like a good person to you?” “Yeah, you do.” Atsushi was right the first time, so I believe he was intended to be right the second was well. Why else call back to it???

• Tbh it is objectively hilarious that Dazai doubts himself being a good person directly after saving the city. I understand why but like…sir, cut yourself some slack

• I think the fanon family dynamics are super cute but people should be able to acknowledge that a lot of them aren’t canon (besides, like, Fukuzawa and Ranpo or Bram and Aya). Ranpo and Yosano’s canon relationship is best friends, you can absolutely view them as siblings but don’t treat it like a canon fact

• Yk that post that said “Who the hell gets into bsd and looks for a healthy ship?? Take your sensitive ass back to Haikyuu” ? Yeah. I second that

• As an OCD-er myself I am TIRED of people calling Kunikida OCD. Yes I’ve written him that way before but it’s another thing that people treat as canon which it just…no, that’s not what OCD looks like😭 I could see OCPD or autism tho

• Yes, Kouyou abused Kyouka. Yes, Kouyou cares very deeply about Kyouka. Both of these statements can coexist. Every decision Kouyou makes is motivated by what would be best for Kyouka and if you don’t get that then you won’t understand her character very well

• I want to see Dazai and Kenji interact. Asagiri please

• Since I mentioned Kenji I wanna point out smth very weird I’ve noticed where, when people bring up healthy bsd ships, they tend to only mention the straight ones??? Even if it’s a mischaracterization or the characters have never interacted. It gives me a very weird vibe

• I think Tecchou and Jouno should kiss each other

• Fyodor is probably my favorite antagonist, the chapter with him and Ace is one of my favorites. He’s a good parallel for Dazai and I just love his whole aesthetic. I love the Decay of Angels as a whole, all of them. I’ll also note that his fans seem to understand the manga very well so shoutout Fyodor fans

• Tachihara has an amazing character arc and I hate that the anime cut it out

• Higuchi is so…ugh I love her to death. Her character is the perfect mix of comic relief and tragedy. I once saw someone point out that it’s nice how Asagiri is able to use her for humor without making the jokes misogynistic and I fully agree (although I do have some qualms abt Aku hitting her being used as a joke in that one bonus page). And her finding her place in the mafia, realizing how important she is to the people who work for her???? I adore her, I hope she gets a satisfying ending

• Higugin has so much potential to be explored in fanon and I hate how they always get reduced to the token fluffy wlw ship or how some ppl only like them for the aesthetic. Give me angst!!! Give me toxic doomed yuri!!! Or give me death!!!

• I really like Fukuzawa’s backstory and want to see more of it

• I’ve seen a lot of interesting headcanons for Dazai’s mental health status, and a lot of them feel realistic, but personally I think he’s very obviously intended to have MDD. Nothing wrong with other headcanons ofc, I’ve written him many different ways, but I think since a lot of people downplay the severity of depression, they overlook that option when trying to psychoanalyze severely mentally ill characters

• The light novels have some of the best bsd content and more fans should read them

• I don’t like the “all lesbians love Chuuya” jokes because I am a lesbian and I’m not down bad for him. Do I love him?? Yes. But not in a simp way. He’s more like my gay brother

• Speaking of which- I do really like the gay hc for Chuuya and the bi hc for Dazai but I wish fans weren’t so afraid to step out of the established box!! Nothing is fully confirmed guys, we can headcanon them as whatever we want. Let’s get creative with it

• I wish more fans humanized Yosano the way they do with the male characters. We see from her backstory how much being out on a pedestal hurt her and so it just seems weird that she’s upheld as this flawless girlboss. Yes, she’s a totally badass and a hottie and I love that but there is so much more to her. She has her weak moments just like every other character, and she has such an incredible arc

• On that note I hope everybody who told me Mori is more interesting than her dies in a fire (I’m joking) (ik how Mori fans like to tussle)

• I happen to really like both the Tanizaki siblings. Actually that’s a lie I used to hate Junichirou. I can’t remember why, I think I just found him annoying. No idea what my current opinion is but now I feel kinda bad for hating him so I’ll say I like him now

• Idk why ppl get so pissed when you suggest that Dazai self-harms like. Okay fine ik it’s not fully confirmed that that’s what the bandages are for. But let’s use our brains for a second…

• Ango did nothing wrong

I could go on but this is already absurdly long (edit: cannot believe that autocorrected to wrong, I have never been wrong about anything in my life) so I’m gonna end it on that doorknob confession. I miss my bsd hyperfixation sometimes, the TikTok fandom got on my nerves but it truly is one of my favorite series ever. And not JUST because of Dazai, clearly I have a lot of thoughts on everything about it lol

[clownsnake]

#the thing with Clue was obvious#because its like literal plot pointa#this is just for showing divergences and messing with the idea of a strict canon#spiderverse @boonbeenblade

Oooh good point!

ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE HAS TWO VERSIONS IN THEATERS

[valiantroeagleangel]

Noah's alphabet

Noah Sebastian x female reader

Following the Bad Omens's alphabet request with Noah, everybody's male whore. This is obviously NSFW.

Mama's tag list: @circle-with-me @somewhere-diamond @malice-ov-mercy @smokeynaomi @darkhallcorner @loeytuan98 @sthnog @cookiesupplier @cncohshit @lma1986 @skulliecadaver-blog

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I feel like sex unlocks a new Noah. Let's face it, we don't like it but Noah surely is emotionally constipated. He won't talk about his feelings or about too many deep things, especially at the beginning of the relationship. But after sex you know, maybe he feels closer to you because of the intimacy but he would open up to you a little. You may have deeper conversations as he holds you in his arms, staring at the ceiling.

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

This is a boob man come on. He is more boyish than Jolly you know. When I was telling you that Jolly enjoyed a nice cleavage, yes he does but in a mature way. I feel like Noah is still silly enough to just go "OMG BOOBS YAY!!!"

And on him, I feel like he came to a situation where he is able to enjoy how big his hands are, especially compared to yours. Let's be honest even if you are gigantic the chances of you being taller than him are very low. And he enjoys how big you're making him feel and the hands are the best way to compare.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Will cum in his pants while eating you out.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Same as the Ruffilo's one. They jerked off together once (if not more). They really were too suspicious and I like it, ok?

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is he experienced? I don't know I don't have the same vibe that I had with Jolly. We all wish he was because it's better for the plot buuuuuut you know... :///

He must be, a little at least but not that much? He tries tho, he tries his best but your first times were maybe like-

"here?"

"no not here noah."

"okay here maybe?"

"still not..."

"uuuggghhh?!"

"alright I'll show you. HERE."

"oooooooh."

And this dude discovered a new world, now he is able to know what he is doing. But he wasn't before.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary with him holding your hands above your head. He is hovering over you, both of your wrists in his hand, pinned over your head and he just slowly thrusts into you, watching your reactions. He likes how it makes him feel in charge.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Ain't no way this dude is cracking jokes during the deed. He is on a mission, he is not going to try and be humorous. I'm not saying that he is taking it like WE ARE HAVING SEX, SEX IS DONE, BACK TO NORMAL PERSONALITY serious kind of type, but he is not goofy either.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Oh he trims it for sure, he is taking care of the carpet. It's not fully trimmed okay but he spends time cutting it for it to be nice and clean.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Back to this dude not dealing with his emotions, he gotta let them out at some point. I'm pretty sure he can be very very intimate. Once again especially at the beginning of your relationship. But yeah that dude is romantic, that dude is worshipping you, he loves you and he tries to let you know it during sex because if he doesn't he is going to burst into flames with all of these emotions he can feel.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I really have issues with this headcanon every time because I always want to say FUCKING YES I LOVE IT QUEEN GO MASTURBATE. But for this one, yeah he does it okay, but not really how I wish he did. Definitely does it in the shower tho. A hand against the tiles and he just whoop whoop the meat.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Submission kink, he likes to see you at his mercy. Not in a violent way but more to know that yes you're drooling and crying on the mattress because of him and that he is the only one who can pleasure you. That you are on your knees for him, and only him. Once he gets to know your body he is going to use it to his advantage.

And I think he has a praise kink, oh fuck me he does. He likes to hear you say how good he is, how good he is making you feel and how you can't deal with the pleasure because of him.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Love the idea of him taking you in the kitchen. Why? I don't know but him taking you on the counter or on the dinner table. Love it. Besides that, bed.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Oh you're walking around the house wearing his t-shirt and his shorts? You're good for one. Noah needs to feel loved I think, to feel like he matters to you, he belongs to you, that you won't abandon him so whenever there is something that makes him feel like that he just gets a little too excited-

Back to how to deal with his feelings. He doesn't know how so -> sex.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Honestly, I know I wrote threesomes with him but let's be real this is not accurate. He won't do threesomes. Once again he wants to feel loved not to feel like you desire someone more than him. And he is not going to fight for your affection in this case. If he feels like you want someone else he will just go "alright she doesn't love me anymore. I've been fucked again." SO NO SHARING, SORRY LADIES.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh come on that one is an easy one. We all agreed that Noah was a proud munch, there is no debate anymore. He will eat you slow and nice or either suck the soul out of you, there is no in-between. But when that dude eats? HE EATS. He will eat and make you come until he is satisfied.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I love the idea of slow and sensual sex. Like slow sex in the morning, you both just wake up and he is just ready to go you know? He'll fuck you nicely and tenderly. Missionary it's him looking at you, very calculated thrust so he can admire how you close your eyes and how you moan.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He does them. First of all because of his tight schedule and maybe yours but also because-

AAHH he is so frustrated and doesn't know how to deal with it? Boom quickie. He just finds you very hot when you're cooking? Boom quickie. Quickie, quickie, quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

That dude won't take too much risk. No public sex, no semi-public sex, no PDA, nothing. He doesn't want ANYONE to stiff his nose in his private life so he won't take risks.

That aside he is not again some experimenting.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

I'm sure he has a great stamina. He has lungs, he's athletic now, pushing to the gym. That dude is doing multiple rounds, maybe with some small breaks in between but he is doing it.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

They went from 😠enemies😠 to 🌈friends🌈 in his eyes. At first, he was not for it, he didn't know how to use it and didn't understand why. He was like "what do you want a toy when you can have me???". But the more you guys grew together, the more you tried things and the more he accepted them and enjoyed them. They didn't replace him so he is happy with it.

And for himself I don't think he really uses them that much.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

That dude is a fucking bitch. I'm sorry but he is teasing you, he is enjoying seeing you ignite yourself because of him. He is truly unfair and it pampers his ego.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

That dude is loud and in a messy way. He moans, he groans, he talks, he lose himself in the deed. He'll keep telling you how good you feels and how tight you are.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Has a thing for mini skirts, panties with ribbons and high socks.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

LONG. Necessarily not massive or heavy but LONG.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

I think his sex drive is really random. It can be a week of random quickies or like more intimate sex multiple times a week. Often it's a mix of both but it depends on the schedule you know.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Either fall asleep immediately or won't be able to sleep because you guys talked for hours and now he is overthinking about why he overshared like that. What if you don't like him in the morning because he said too much? (it won't happen but this dude is a little psychotic.)

[warrior-of-waistbands]

oooooooh thoughts thoughts thoughts THOUGHTS I have so many thoughts

- first of all: the animation is nice! Takes the stylization of the CU movie and really cranks it up to eleven, I like it! Anyone know if they're outsourcing to Studio Mikros again or....?

- second of all: I am CHOOSING to be cautiously optimistic about the casting choice for Petey. I am CHOOSING to be cautiously optimistic about the casting choice for Petey. I AM CHOOSING TO BE CAUTIOUSLY OPTIMISTIC ABOUT THE CASTING CHOICE FOR PETEY.

- but with that being said: KITTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AUGH HE LOOKS SO GOOD THAT'S MY BOY!!!!!! THAT'S MY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

- I take it they're saving the actual plot of the movie for a future trailer. As it stands now it feels a lot more like what I was expecting the Dog Man movie to be initially. Which isn't bad! I'm just cautiously hopeful for the next trailer.

- actually circling back to that Petey casting choice........ *stares at the fact that Lil' Petey is going to be in this movie........*

- Isla Fisher is voicing Sarah which makes this Isla Fisher's second DreamWorks role after Rise of the Guardians! This is only interesting to me.

- god the Officer Knight crumbs........

- still holding out hope for those CU connections.......

[bigoltrashpile]

Stay With Us

Hi guys!! Once again the lovely @galacticroyal93 has commissioned me! This is a yandere fic with all the boys trying to convince reader to finally move in with them! I hope you enjoy!

Lucky growled as he scrolled through the pictures on his phone.  His face almost hurt from how hard he was scowling.  All he wanted was a good picture of you to add to his collection, but every one had…him in it.  Your boyfriend.  Another growl escaped Lucky as he thought the word.  Every picture you had posted to your social media for the last few months had that scum in it.

All the skeletons had, either separately or together, plotted to kill him, of course.  They couldn’t just let some…nobody have you.  However, Papyrus had pointed out that if they killed him now, it might only force you into depression and solitude, pushing you further away instead of closer.  So they were forced to watch from afar, all seething with jealousy when you talked about your boyfriend.

Lucky chuckled as he remembered how each of them reacted when you introduced them to your date.  They ranged from Papyrus trying hard to smile but looking like he had just eaten a lemon, to Scar outright producing bone attacks and using his claws to sharpen them.  After a little while, you stopped mentioning him around the skeletons, and he hadn’t seen any of them face to face since that first meeting.

Of course, many of them had seen him.  They had to keep tabs on their favorite human, of course, and try to find dirt about their least favorite human.

After what felt like the hundredth photo of you and your boyfriend on a date, Lucky was fed up.  He tossed his phone across the room and stood up.  If he wanted to see you, he could do it in person.  No need to look at photos when he could just see you for himself!  Those pictures could never capture your true beauty, anyway.

Before he left, he quickly grabbed the small blue vial given to him by this world’s Alphys.  He probably wouldn’t need to use it, but you could never be too prepared.

Lucky quickly shortcutted close to your home.  Just appearing on your doorstep would seem too clingy, this way he could pretend he was just in the area when you saw him.  He and the others had done this same song and dance many times before, but you hadn’t suspected anything yet.

He had only been walking for a minute or so, when someone walked almost straight into his chest.  “WOAH, WATCH OUT-OH!”  What luck!  It was you!!  “HELLO, DEAR!  WHAT A COINCIDENCE!” he said, turning on the charm.  “IT’S ALWAYS A DELIGHT TO SEE Y-”  Lucky froze.  You looked…strange.  Not in a bad way, but…  “Have You Been Crying?”

You paused, touching your red and puffy eyes.  “Huh?  Oh, no!  I mean, yeah, but no.  I was crying but like, it’s fine,” you half laughed.

Well that didn’t do anything to soothe his mind.  “SO YOU WERE CRYING?  WHY?  DID YOUR BOYFRIEND DO SOMETHING?”  He tried to fight the part of him that hoped your boyfriend had messed up his relationship with you.

“I mean…yeah?  But also it was me who did it,” you giggled again.  “Let’s walk, actually, and I can tell you about it!”

You kept going down the street, practically humming as you did.  A very strange thing for someone who was just crying but also not crying.  “...ARE YOU HIGH?” Lucky asked, following close behind.  

“Uh huh!  Oooooooh that’s probably why you thought I was crying!” you seemed to connect the dots in  your fuzzy brain.  “Yeah, it’s fine!  I just broke up with my boyfriend and wanted to take the edge off a bit,” you said casually.

It took every ounce of self control for Lucky to not cheer and pump his fist in the air.  You were single!  This was the greatest thing that had ever happened!!!  He let a small smile play across his face.  You were slightly in front of him, he could allow himself that luxury.  “I’M SO SORRY TO HEAR THAT!”  Hopefully your smoke addled brain wouldn’t hear the excitement in his voice.  

“It’s okay.  It was…probably not the best relationship,” you admitted.  “I mean, he wasn’t abusive or anything!  He just like, didn’t listen to me ever, you know?”

“HE DID ALWAYS SEEM LIKE THERE WASN’T A LOT UPSTAIRS,” Lucky admitted.

“Yeah, haha!  He’s a dumbass!” you joked, smacking Lucky playfully on the arm.  “Not like you guys!”

Lucky gritted his teeth.  Of course.  You weren’t only thinking of him, but the others as well.  That’s okay, he could work with this.  “I DON’T KNOW, BUTCH IS PRETTY STUPID AS WELL,” he forced a laugh.

“Yeah, but he means well.”  You gave him your dazzling smile.  Even slightly out of it, you were breathtaking.  “Hey, where are the other guys anyway?  Are you here by yourself?”

“WELL, YES.  I WAS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD WHEN I RAN INTO YOU.”  An idea suddenly struck him.  “WHY, WOULD YOU LIKE TO GO BACK TO THE HOUSE WITH ME?”

“You bet your ass I do!  Your place is always soooooo fun!” you gushed.

“PERFECT.  COME ON THEN, DEAR.”  He held out his hand.  You eagerly took it, and Lucky strolled around a corner with you, shortcutting you back to the skeletons’ home.  This time, Lucky hoped, he could convince you to stay.

The two of you reappeared inside his home, and you were almost immediately noticed by the others.  “darlin’!” Hound gasped.  “what are ya doin’ here?”

“Lucky invited me!” you explained cheerfully.  You half stumbled to the couch and inserted yourself in between Hound and Butch, who were watching some old show together.  Lucky’s face contorted into a hateful glare.  Thankfully, you were too busy trying to figure out how your legs worked.  “I just broke up with my boyfriend…”

Butch’s eyes lit up, and Hound looked over at Lucky in surprise.  He raised an eyebrow, silently asking the obvious question.  Lucky just shook his head.  He didn’t have anything to do with it.  You did that yourself.  

“sorry to hear that, doll,” Butch said, voice not sounding sorry at all.  “that mean you’re back on the market?~”  As he spoke, he playfully trailed his hand up your inner thigh.  You smacked it away, laughing.

“Not right now, I want to watch this with you guys!”  You pointed at the show.  Lucky didn’t recognize the program, but it seemed to feature several old women sassing each other.

Butch’s face fell, but he relented.  All the better for him, Lucky thought.  If Butch got to touch you before Lucky did, he would have to cut off Butch’s hand.

“DO YOU WANT TO STAY FOR DINNER?” Lucky asked.  “I THINK NOIR IS IN CHARGE TODAY.”

Your stomach growled, and you nodded eagerly.  “Yes please!  I’m starving!”

“EXCELLENT!  I BELIEVE IT WILL BE READY SOON.”

You nodded, quickly arranging yourself so that your head was on Hound’s lap and your legs draped across Butch’s.  Both of them seemed thrilled by this unusually cuddly version of you.  Lucky tried to stop himself from seething in jealousy.  Sadly, there was no room for him to sit now, so he forced himself to not shove Butch out of the way and take his place.  It’s okay, once you were his, he would be in that spot.

Butch gave Lucky a shit eating grin as he started running his claws up and down your soft legs.  Not as suggestive as before, just relishing in the feel of your skin.  Once again, it took all of Lucky’s self control to not snap right there.

“I’M GOING TO BE UPSTAIRS UNTIL DINNER,” Lucky half growled.  He strode quickly out of the room.  As he rounded the corner to the stairs, he almost ran into someone for the second time today.

“woah, bro, where are you going in such a hurry?”  Oh thank the stars, it was Slim.  “you okay?  you seem ticked off.”

“YES, I…”  He looked behind him.  “Actually, Let’s Talk In Private.”

Slim nodded, and Lucky led him back to his room.  Slim sighed at the state of Lucky’s room.  It was messy as usual, but Lucky could find everything.  Just because nobody else understood his system doesn’t mean it’s not organized!  “i don’t know how you live like this.”

“HUSH, THAT’S NOT IMPORTANT!  WHAT IS IMPORTANT IS THAT…”  Lucky paused for dramatic effect.  “Our Human Is Newly Single.”

Slim’s eyes widened.  “holy shit.”

“YES.  THEY’RE STAYING FOR DINNER, BUT THE BEST PART IS THAT THEY ARE HIGH.  THIS MEANS THAT THEY ARE MUCH MORE SUSCEPTIBLE.”

“we can finally get ‘em to move in,” Slim gasped.

“YES.  DURING DINNER, WE NEED TO TRY OUR BEST TO GET THEM TO STAY.  IF THAT FAILS, I HAVE THIS.”  He pulled the blue vial out of his pocket.  “I GOT THIS FROM THIS WORLD’S ALPHYS.  IF THEY’RE NOT GOING FOR IT, I’LL SLIP THIS INTO THEIR FOOD, AND THEY’LL BE OUT LIKE A LIGHT.  THEN, WE CAN TRY AGAIN IN THE MORNING.  YOU CAN EVEN GET THEM HIGH AGAIN TO HELP CONVINCE THEM!”

“i dunno how i feel about that,” Slim muttered.  “i mean, i don’t want to use weed to make them love us.  that feels shitty.”

“THEY ALREADY LOVE US,” Lucky pointed out.  “THEY JUST NEED WEED TO HELP THEM REALIZE IT!”

“still feels wrong…”

“IT’S ONLY A LAST RESORT,” Lucky pointed out.  “IF ALL GOES WELL, WE DON’T NEED TO USE MY PLAN.”  He gave his brother a joking smile.  “PLUS, YOUR IDEAS HAD WAY MORE MURDER THAN MY PLANS.”

Slim rolled his eyes, unable to keep the smile off his face.  “yeah, yeah.  i’m not actually hurting them though, just their shitty boyfriend.  or, ex-boyfriend.”  His smile grew.  “this might actually work.”

“THANK YOU!”

“at least it’s better than sans’s plan.”

“THE BOX ON THE STICK?”

“nyeh heh heh, yeah!  this isn’t fuckin’ looney tunes,” Slim laughed.

The two of them left Lucky’s room, feeling hopeful about their chances with you.  After all, they could  take care of you much better than your ex-boyfriend could.

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

Within an hour, all nine of you were around the dinner table.  Noir had cooked some curry, and it actually looked pretty good.  Some of the meat was a bit scorched, but overall, it was much better than when he had first come to this universe.  Lucky couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you practically inhaled your food.  You really were hungry.  He had heard of the munchies before, but it seemed you had it to the extreme.  Papyrus piled some more food onto your plate, and you smiled at him gratefully.

After a few minutes of eating, Lucky finally spoke up.  “SO Y/N,” he said as casually as he could muster.  “I’M SORRY ABOUT YOUR BREAKUP.”

Immediately, the table went silent.  They all turned to you, identical expressions of shock and excitement on their faces.  Lucky was grateful that you were both oblivious and high so you didn’t suspect anything.

“Yeah,” you mumbled between forkfuls of rice.  “I broke up with him.”  You were frowning, but quickly replaced it with a smile.  “He was kind of a jerk.”

“REALLY?” Papyrus asked gently.  “HE SEEMED SO….NICE.”

“He was…at first.  Then he started just…I dunno.”  You sighed.  “I’d ask him to do things, not even hard things, but he wouldn’t.  Sometimes it was like I wasn’t even there.”  You picked at your plate, appetite seemingly gone.  “He’d tell me that he loved me, but he never showed it.  Then when I got frustrated at him he’d act like I was the problem, you know?  I kept trying to understand, but it just got to be too much.”  You seemed to realize you had been talking for a while and shoved some more food into your mouth.  “So yeah, dropped his dead weight!”  You laughed.  “I deserve someone who treats me right!”

“you sure do, darlin’,” Hound smiled.  While you were facing Hound you didn’t notice Sans and Papyrus high fiving under the table.  “you deserve someone who treats ya like royalty.”

“Ha!  You guys are so nice you make me feel like royalty!” you laughed.

Now was his chance.  Lucky spoke up again.  “YES!  WE COULD TREAT YOU LIKE THIS EVERY DAY!” he grinned, pretending to be joking.

“Pfft, come on, I can’t come over to your place every day!” you laughed.  “You’d get sick of me!”

“we’d never get sick of ya, honey,” Slim interjected.  He gave a small smile.  “you could come over every day…or even just stay here.”

Finally, it seemed to click in the rest of the skeletons.  “YES!  YOU COULD STAY HERE,” Noir said, leaning forward.  “I COULD USE SOMEONE WHO APPRECIATES MY CULINARY MASTERPIECES!”

“it’d be great to always have ya around, starlight,” Sans smiled.  “we’re always so much happier when you’re here.”

You blushed.  “Oh come on, there’s no way-”

Scar reached across the table and put his hand over yours.  “I KNOW I DON’T ALWAYS SAY HOW I FEEL, BUT I WOULD BE OVERJOYED IF YOU LIVED WITH US,” he said bluntly.  “DON’T TRY TO ARGUE WITH ME.  YOU ARE A JOY TO HAVE HERE.”

That really seemed to get you, and you covered your face with your hands.  “I-I mean…it’s so sudden, I can’t just pick up and move.”

“WHY?” Lucky asked.

“...I dunno,” you admitted.  “I guess it would be nice to be around you guys…and have a change of scenery…and be around people who actually listen to me…”  It seemed like you were doing the job of convincing you better than the skeletons were.  “Fuck it, why not.”

“YOU MEAN IT?” Lucky asked.  “YOU’LL LIVE WITH US?”

“Sure!”

Immediately, all of the skeletons erupted into cheers.  You seemed shocked by the reception.  “Jeez, I didn’t know you all liked me so much!”

Lucky laughed silently to himself.  Sweet thing, you had no idea.  “OF COURSE WE DO!  YOU’RE OUR FRIEND, AFTER ALL,” he said.

Later that evening, you, Slim, and Lucky ended up on the couch together watching a movie.  You had agreed to stay the night as a sort of “trial run.”  You had fallen asleep much faster than either of them had expected, and your head lolled onto Lucky’s shoulder.  You were pressed in between the two skeletons, and your body heat was heavenly.

“i can’t believe they said yes,” Slim whispered.  He carded his phalanges through your hair.  “i really thought it’d take more convincing.”

“Me Too,” Lucky admitted.  “I’m Glad It Didn’t Come To That, Though.”

“yeah.”  Slim smiled.  “wish we’d have known.  could’ve gotten them high way earlier than this.”

“I Thought You Didn’t Want To Use Weed To Convince Them,” he said teasingly.

“yeah, well, ya can’t argue with the results,” Slim chuckled.  He gently tucked some hair behind your ear.  “i mean, we got ‘em here with us.”

“We Certainly Do.”  Lucky looked down at you.  You looked so peaceful, so relaxed.  He was right, no pictures could ever compare to the real you.  And now, he’d have unfiltered access, whenever he wanted.

He had dreamed of having you all to himself, but…he had to admit that you, him, and his brother made a pretty great family.  If he had to deal with the other skeletons for now, he could live with that.  You would soon realize that he and his brother were the only ones for you.

Until then, this was pretty damn perfect.

[blondiedae]

dry house, wet clothes (eight)

𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 dry house, wet clothes, eight

pairing. johnny suh x afab!reader x jeong jaehyun

genre. angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow burn (for jaehyun), friends to lovers (for johnny)

warnings. swearing, kissing, still big miscommunication trope. mild angst but this time there’s a lot of fluff, reader celebrates Christmas (for real, but briefly), oral (giving, receiving - Johnny is a fiend for it idk), romantic penetrative sex, use of pet names (babe, baby, Juliet), unprotected sex

word count. 11,957

plot. the four of you have spent years building the world around you, your friendship, your weekends together hidden in jaehyun's loft. you, mark, johnny and jaehyun. shaking the foundation of that by being in love with your best friend, jaehyun, is a risk you've never been confident enough to take. but, johnny suh is confident and johnny suh has been known to shake the world around you.

other's mentioned. lee haechan (donghyuck), best friend mark lee, na jaemin, lee jeno, lee taeyong, nakamoto yuta, ten lee, liu yangyang, huang renjun, dong sicheng (winwin)

author's note. oooooooh my heart is breaking. the delay and the content. the parts of this chapter that are lost. i hope you all still enjoy. i’m sorry, again

taglist (open). @xiaojunsdino @yoursyuno @girlisaloser

playlist. here!

5:21pm Sky is clear tonight, babe. Can I see you?

Two nights later and the Winter sky was kind, pushing snow-he is avy clouds away to let the stars sparkle, again. The moon had just made its debut in the sky, kissing the sun to sleep, and Johnny had texted you; like he was waiting for the night, like he’d timed it perfectly. You smiled, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d been smiling since October and your cheeks ached from it, but you wouldn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

5:24pm When should I come over?

He typed, in an instant, 5:24pm Preferably, two hours ago when I got home 😞

Cheeks aching, the muscles begging for a break, you replied, 5:25pm I’m on my way.

His apartment was covered in moonlight, a wash of blue against shades of white, grey, beige. Johnny had turned off every light, leading you inside and offering an apology, “I opened your present. Wanted to get it set up.”

The telescope positioned near the windows had a striped bow on it, “That’s okay. It’s incredible.”

“You wanna get comfy before you test it?” He nodded towards his bedroom, “I put one of my shirts on the bed.”

“Okay. Give me a second.”

Johnny held onto your hand as long as you’d let him, watching after you in hues of blue until you were out of his line of sight. His heart thumped in his chest eight times, slowly and intentional, before you came back in his t-shirt. In just his t-shirt, goosebumps covering your thighs, “Are you cold?”

“I‘ll be okay.”

“Go on. Go give it a try.” Johnny pushed at your hips, body flush against yours, “See if we can find you.”

Your giggles echoed, “Okay.”

Perspective was such a strange thing, one change and you were awestruck. The night sky had never been so clear, brilliant in front of you like you were amongst them. Your breath caught in your lungs, struggling against your ribs and leaving you wordless, thoughtless, awestruck. You didn’t even know where to begin, you’d never know. You’d spent a lifetime studying charts that shifted and expanded and always changed, right before your eyes. There were constants, the brightest stars, but there was too much that was unknown. You swallowed, “It’s so beautiful out there.”

Johnny was close behind you still, living vicariously through you and soaking up your energy, “Are they shining for you, baby?”

It was a whisper, “They are.”

He told you, “Just for you.”

“I’m there.” You pointed, just over the telescope and towards the sky. Johnny tried to follow, squinting like it would help, “My star is there.”

It was nestled next to the brightest point, shining just for you, just like Johnny said. A star that shared your name. Your heart skipped, flipped, contracted and expanded in a matter of seconds. The thought that you were floating in the sky, that you’d floated away and Johnny had let you, started a ripple in your heart that consumed your entire body. The breath you let out shook as a result.

“I’ve never seen them like this.”

You were lost in the night sky, one eye closed and the other bouncing from star to star, back to you - to your star. A brilliant constellation that you were part of, in the smallest way, in the most beautiful way. Your heart was on overdrive, your head doing the best it could to keep up. Johnny shifted near you, nearer to you. Johnny who made you a star, Johnny who made sure you could always find yourself, seek yourself out in the night sky. Johnny who thrust you into the sky and, if you chose to stay there, found a way to always find you, himself.

He watched you, something swelling in his chest, something he didn’t want to place just yet. He’d felt it twice before and Johnny could remember those exact moments, he cherished them just as much as this one. The way you looked, mouth hanging open with awe, adoration, admiration for something you found so beautiful. He tucked this moment in with the night at Jungwoo’s and the night he asked you to be his.

The night you said, “Yes.”

The early morning hours of something new; you, him, the approaching November day. Now, in December, he felt it again. It was warm, welcoming, all-consuming and strange; a feeling so unique it felt catered to you. The way you smiled, the way you laughed, the way you teased him and indulged him and touched him. Johnny was overwhelmed by it for a moment. His hands were shaking at his sides, his tongue licked at his suddenly dry lips.

Your hands were hovering over the telescope, adjusting it and turning it how you needed. You would gasp here and sigh there, a quiet “wow” or a softer “this is insane.” Johnny just watched, he loved to do it. He’d spent six months on stolen glances, quelling the persistent swelling that sat so heavily in his chest. Johnny would happily stare, unabashed and beaming, now.

At you, at you, always at you; his girlfriend. His Juliet.

He turned to the stars, watching them with a naked eye. The lights further down borrowed their glow, stole their shimmer. Grounded stars beneath you, shifting and soaring stars above you. Brilliant and beautiful light, either way. Moonlight or streetlights, starlight or candlelight - Johnny would find you in it, he’d keep you in it, he’d fill you with it and make sure it was always shining. He’d never take light from you, never pull you from this moment.

Not when you looked like that.

Johnny waited for you to let out a breath before he moved, hands still trembling. He stepped closer to you, “What do you see, babe?”

You sighed, his lips on your neck, “Everything.”

“Tell me.” He stopped behind you, “Can I touch you?”

You started to turn, started to ground yourself to look back at Johnny. He was quick to stop you, a ghost-like grip on your jaw, turning your face back towards the telescope, back towards the sky. He scolded, “Keep looking. Answer the question.”

Finding your voice, saying the words without stumbling over them, felt impossible, “Yes, you can touch me.”

His hands found your waist, pulled at the fabric of his shirt while Johnny sank to his knees. He left open-mouth kisses on the skin of your lower back, just above your panties, and his hands gripped your hips. Johnny hummed against you, biting at the skin, pulling the fabric of your panties with his teeth until they slid down your legs.

“Johnny-“

“Tell me about the stars.” His voice was barely above a whisper, “Name them for me.”

“I…”

He nudged your legs apart, positioning himself between you and the telescope, face buried between your thighs. Johnny took a deep breath in, “Words, baby. Come on.”

“N-navi.”

“Spell it.”

“N.” Johnny’s tongue moved, swirling around your clit. “A.” Again, he moved, tracing the shape of an ‘A’ - of every letter you managed to get out, “V.” He was in perfect sync with your body, just as breathless as you were, “I.”

You were quivering, knees weak and ready to give in. Johnny held you, firm, at your thighs, “Another one.”

“Caph. C-a-p-h.” Each letter had you moaning, writhing again, struggling to hold on. You tried to focus on the stars, that’s what Johnny wanted. He wanted you to see stars, “Oh my God.”

One hand slid up your thigh, two fingers pressing slowly into you, sinking into your warmth. You fell into moans, sighs and whispered chants. Johnny’s tongue worked to spell out words he wouldn’t tell you, words he couldn’t say yet, circled and teased your clit while his fingers pumped inside your cunt, “One more baby. Give me one more.”

He wanted you to see stars, Johnny was on his knees begging. Your eyes were screwed shut, body slumped and holding onto an unstable telescope. You breathed, “I can’t. Can’t…”

He pushed in a third finger, then a fourth, “Say my name, then.”

“Johnny.”

J-o-h-n-n-y.

Traced, spelled out into your pussy like a promise, like a prayer. Johnny wrote his name, begged you on his knees, and you saw the stars. Exploding behind your eyelids; brilliant supernovas, constellations, meteor showers at his touch. Your voice cracked, moaning out praises - his name, his promise. Johnny could feel your knees buckling and eased you down as best he could, toppling over onto him and into his arms.

“What do you see, baby?”

Your eyes were still closed, “Stars.”

He laughed, “Come back to me.”

And you did, when the flares and fire subsided, you opened your eyes and saw him. Johnny with the sun in his eyes, you with the stars, “Hi Johnny.”

“Hi babe.” He kissed your fingertips, “I want to do something. Will you let me?”

“Okay.”

His t-shirt stayed bunched at your legs and he fiddled with the hem before asking, “Can I take this off?”

“Yes.”

He was careful, pulling it over your head. Johnny took his time. You were among the things bathed in beautiful blue moonlight, bare and panting in his arms. Johnny almost lost his mind, almost forgot every move he wanted to make. He felt your hands pull at his waistband, hesitant to ask but wanting, so much, to feel, “What do you want?”

“You?”

His smile was dazzling, heavy-lidded, “Me? I’m yours.”

“Want to see you.”

His cock strained against his pants, bulging against the blue and green plaid. You’d pulled the waistband down far enough to see the tip, leaking onto his stomach. Running your finger along his abdomen, watching the shiver run down Johnny's spine, you scooped up the precum and brought it to your lips. Johnny groaned as your tongue slipped around your fingertip, hips rolling up, “Fuck.”

“Want to taste you, again.” Johnny’s mind went blank, save for thoughts of you on your knees in his shower, his kitchen, your bedroom floor. He had a plan he was losing sight of, mind so clouded he couldn’t think to speak. You pulled at his pants, tugging them down his legs until his cock sprang up and your mouth watered, “Please, Johnny.”

“Baby, you’re gonna…” Your lips wrapped around the tip, “Fuck. Fuck. Just like that.”

You fit perfectly around it; every part of you. Your mouth opened wider, wetting it with spit that fell from your swollen lips before you took more and more and more of him in. Johnny was lost, vision blurred and hands gripping your hair as you bobbed up and down. He could feel you choking on it, so close to taking all of him in that it made Johnny dizzy.

A long, deep moan wrapped around your name, “Take all of it. You can take all of it.”

Your moan vibrated in your throat, around his cock, and Johnny could’ve let go, then. The sight of stars from behind his eyelids brought him back to Earth, closer to the city lights beneath the two of you. He lifted your head, watching the string of spit from his cock to your lips snap before he said, “Slow down.”

Your heart skipped, “I’m sorry.”

“No. God, no, baby don’t be sorry. I just…” He pulled himself up to his knees, sitting directly in front of you, eyes never leaving yours - keeping you with him, “I just want to slow down.”

He held your face and you told him, “You’re so beautiful.”

Words he’d repeated to you, words you meant, words shared between the two of you whenever you had the chance. He smiled, he couldn’t help it. The swelling in his chest overwhelmed him again, “I want to…” He thought to say it, the words he’d left between your thighs, “I want to go slow, I want to be with you and see you.”

“That’s what you wanted to try?”

He thought to say it, how his heart beat eight times in a beautiful rhythm, “Something like that. Go slow with me, baby.”

He’d let you set the pace for so long, he’d left everything up to you. You’d happily do anything, everything he wanted, “Of course.”

Johnny kissed you, lips still sticky with the taste of you, yours wet with the taste of him. He pulled you onto his lap, hands on your thighs, your waist, tangled in your hair. You tugged the strands at the nape of his neck and remembered how it felt to hear him moan like that, the first time - a lifetime away. Johnny’s cock was hot, heavy between you, poking at your stomach. You wanted to touch him again, but you waited for him to lead.

For Johnny to go slow.

He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, “Up.”

You listened, lifting your hips enough for Johnny to position himself at your entrance, for him to drag his cock along your pussy and drench it in you. Johnny’s hand fell to your hip, guiding you to sit, to sink onto his cock - slowly, torturous, dizzying. His breathing, your breathing, the sound of your pussy clenching around him and pulling him in. Johnny didn’t move, once he’d buried himself there. He settled into his resting place and you wouldn’t dare move unless you told you to. Not with the blissed out look on his face, not with the sun burning in his eyes.

“I…” He choked on his words, eyes focused on only you, “You are…”

“Touch me, Johnny.”

He nodded, hands trembling again as they groped at your breasts. His hips rolled up, seeking friction and reeling when he found it. Your pussy gripped him, locked him in a trance. Your own hips circled, matched his tantalizing pace, “Kiss me.”

Breaths and moans and sighs shared between you; air mixing in your lungs, moans seeping into your tongue. Kissing Johnny was enough, it was always enough. Losing yourself in his lips while he was buried inside you, throbbing inside you, moving so slowly inside you, was something else. It was something new.

Johnny bucked his hips, the tip of his cock hitting the spot that made you scream, clawing at his back, “Johnny, Johnny, Johnny.”

He wanted more.

Johnny leaned you backwards, lips latching onto your nipples. He pulled one between his teeth, sucked on it and nipped at it before switching to the other. He angled himself on his knees, hips working his cock deep in you. The pace was perfect, you were a mess on top of him, he was keeping his promise and coming so close. Still, it wasn’t enough.

“Baby, lay back.” You did, Johnny pulled out of you slowly with a long groan and a bruising grip on your hips, “Roll over baby.”

He helped you onto your side, positioning himself behind you and grabbing his throbbing cock with one hand. The other wrapped around you, held you at your chest and pinched at your nipples. When he sank into you again, Johnny begged, “Look at me.”

You turned your head, looking over your shoulder and gasping every time Johnny fucked into you. He was moving faster with every thrust, grunting at the hold you had on him, “Fuck me, Johnny.”

He was doing so much more than that, Johnny’s mind was reeling. He wanted you to feel it, wanted to leave it on every inch of you. His hips stuttered, slapping against your ass, “M’close. So fucking close. Your pussy - fuck, sweet pussy is made for me.”

“I’m close too.” Your voice was hoarse, eyes locked on Johnny - every expression, the sweat on his brow, how his lips moved to say your name, “Wanna feel it, wanna…”

“Look at your stars, baby.” Your head turned away from him, slowly, staring up and out the windows to the stars. Johnny saw them reflected in your eyes, “All for you.”

The stars; they were yours, just as he was. He’d capture every one of them, pick out every one and put your name on it - make a wish on you, for you, with you. Johnny watched and you shook against him, cunt clenching around him. He waited as long as he could, pulling out to cum all over your back. He painted you in white, held you against him until he was part of the masterpiece, too. Then, Johnny held your chin between his fingertips, one more time, and asked, “Let me see you?”

Mascara ran down your cheeks, stained the corners of your eyes, “Hi.”

“Hi.” Johnny pressed a hungry kiss to your lips, “You still here with me?”

“I’m here.”

“Good. Let me get you cleaned up.”

It was freezing as soon as he pulled away and he was only gone a moment - reaching just far enough for his shirt, using it to wipe away the mess he’d made of the two of you; his masterpiece. Johnny made gentle work of it, humming and kissing your neck, your shoulders, your spine.

Places you’d never thought he’d touch and places you’d always want him to be. You looked to the moon; the last time you’d seen it, it had been less full. The moon had only been a fraction of itself the last time the clouds were kind enough to clear the sky. Now, it was nearly full, bursting with reflected light. The moon had entered another phase, it had changed. Just as the stars had shifted over time, burned brighter and then duller.

Everything changed. Everything always would.

He shifted behind you, again, letting the moonlight on your skin keep you company, “How do you feel about change?”

Johnny laughed, “Can I have a minute to recoup?”

He lifted your head, settling it on his lap and leaning back against his couch. He’d pulled a blanket from the couch and draped it over you, “Does it scare you?”

“Sometimes.” It was such a simple answer, close to comforting when Johnny looked down at you, “I think it scares everyone, at first.”

“It’s terrifying.”

“What is going on in your head?”

“So much.” Johnny looked at you, sympathy pulling his features down in a way you’d never seen. A way that made your heart ache, “It’s nothing actually.”

“It’s not. Tell me.” His hand pushed your hair back, “Please.”

“I really like you Johnny.”

“Me too, baby.” He smiled, it eased you. So when he asked, you didn’t hesitate, “Keep going.”

“I think…I think I’m afraid of change. In such a big way that I don’t let myself even try.” You couldn’t look at him, you took to the stars. How they sparkled through the telescope made them look dim, just like this. They were fading, they didn’t twinkle, they’d lost their shine. You tried to get your eyes to focus, your mind, anything, “You know that though, don’t you?”

Johnny mulled over his answer, filled the silence with thought, “You just need a push.”

“That’s so selfish.”

“It’s not. Needing security and reassurance isn’t selfish.”

“I think I’m selfish.”

He shook his head, then, adjusting so he was parallel to you, handling you with so much care. Johnny didn’t give you the choice but to look at him, to take him in. He caged you in, an arm on either side, and told you, softly, “You’re not. You want what everyone in this world does.”

“What’s that?”

“Safety.” It struck you, a one word answer and it felt like a jolt of electricity. Johnny took your hand in his, “It’s not the change that’s scary; it’s all the what ifs. It’s not knowing what comes after it.”

“Oh.”

Johnny thought for a moment, wondered if he should say it, then decided on telling you, “You read a lot of books where the ending is predictable, but life isn’t supposed to be predictable. You’re not supposed to know what comes next.”

“I know.”

“Did you predict me?” It felt like a test, but Johnny’s tone was so easy that you couldn’t feel anything but calm, “Us?”

“There was no way I could have.”

“Exactly. I didn’t either.” He looked up, eyes focused outside, past the city light and skyward, “You want to know a secret?”

Your voice shook, clutching onto any part of Johnny you could - seeking out his warmth as a means of security, a means of reassurance, a means of safety, “Yeah.”

“I was terrified confessing to you.” Johnny looked back at you, into your eyes where the stars lingered, “I was scared of that change.”

“Why?”

He kissed your lips, “Two reasons. If you rejected me, it could’ve been something weird between us. I think we would’ve recovered, but my stupid, fat crush on you wouldn’t have gone away overnight.” He grinned at you, so you giggled and smiled back. Your hands played with his hair, twirling it between your fingers where it dangled above you, “If you didn’t reject me-”

“I didn’t.”

“Thank God for that. But, if it all went well, I’d have to prove to you that I was worth whatever risk you thought came with it.” Johnny pulled back layers of himself before you, showing you doubts you couldn’t picture him having. He walked you through his mind, a guided tour into his thoughts, and hoped you’d understand him more. Perspective shifted, like the stars, and you held your breath. Johnny who was always certain was confessing to an uncertainty, one he dwelled on; you, “I’m still working on that.”

He’d made jokes about it, about changing his mind and you’d taken them at face value - it was so Johnny to find humor in anything, it suited him. He’d eased you into everything, step by step by step. Now he was easing you into himself. He shifted your view of him in an instant and, again, your heart leapt. And, with a beating heart lodged in your throat, you assured him, “You don’t have to prove anything.”

“I do.” He countered, “Maybe to myself.”

You pushed back, pushed at his shoulders and rolled him onto his back. Johnny looked at you, straddling his lap and kissed by moonlight, starlight, streetlights all at once. Your hand came up to his cheek, “It’s already worth it. Any risk…it’s worth it, to me.”

Johnny believed you. He watched the words leave your lips and he held onto them, so fondly, so carefully. He repeated them in his mind like gospel, like his promise. He could’ve told you then, he thought to do as much. Other promises he made held his tongue; not until one of us - either one - knows. Maybe he knew. Maybe he thought he knew. The weight in his chest, the weight of your words and him being worth it made him believe he knew. But, Johnny didn’t say it.

He sat with the feeling, he sat with you and he settled on, “Thank you.”

📻

Jaehyun was covered in flour, fingertips stained with red, green, blue food coloring. The apron tied around his waist had hand painted reindeer on it, two candy canes and a gift; it was something he’d crafted for his mother in grade school, something he’d only ever let you see. His kitchen was a mess; seven bowls on the counter, scraps of cookie dough left behind in them. The clock on his oven blinked in a countdown, minutes left until your last batch was done - near midnight.

He found you in the loft when he’d come home, headphones whispering melodies into your ears. Jaehyun found his place next to you, secured in your bubble and tucked away. You greeted him with a gentle smile, “Welcome home.”

And, with his home sitting next to him, he smiled and said, “Thanks.”

You had asked him, “Did you pack, yet?”

It was the night before he was leaving, two days before Christmas and the answer was a simple, “Not yet. Come help?”

So you did, resting on his pillows and wrapped in his blankets, leaving traces of you to torture him on his sheets. You watched him folding his clothes neatly, stacking them into a duffel bag at the foot of his bed. Quietly, you confessed, “I got you something.”

He didn’t look up, “I thought we weren’t getting gifts.”

“It’s not. It’s…something else. You can’t open it until Christmas Eve, though.” You pulled it from your bag, dropped on the floor at the side of the bed. The paper crinkled in your hands, “Promise?”

“Of course.” He let you put it on top, then Jaehyun zipped his bag closed. There was a feeling settling inside him that he couldn’t place, a longing for a moment unfolding in front of him. You’d promised and he’d promised, but he knew that this would slip from his grasp, too. Jaehyun felt a finality in the way you sat on his bed, in the way he packed to spend a Christmas away. He blinked the feeling away, “Cookies?”

You nodded, “Yeah.”

Now you were across from him, licking clean a dough-covered spatula and watching It's a Wonderful Life - the music you had been playing drowned out the film you knew by heart, creating a new story. A new perspective. You looked back at Jaehyun, the way he moved around his kitchen, stacking bowls and dropping them in the sink. You thought of him asking you to secure his tie, passing you breakfast in the form of peeled oranges, kissing the corner of your lips as you did his.

It was hard to think of much else, “Let me help.”

The two of you fell into a quiet rhythm, synchronized together at the sink. Your arms were close enough to touch, close enough to brush against one another and close enough to be enough. It was all you could ask for, all you could expect. Jaehyun would brush against you and you’d lean into it, longing for your perspective to shift back, only for a moment. Your mind was in shambles, tangled in knots from looped thoughts when you were near him. You wanted to push down the thought, the blaring difference, between these moments of quiet confusion with Jaehyun and the clarity of confession with Johnny.

Your fingers touched Jaehyun’s as he passed you a spoon, “You’re really going?”

His dimples caved, “You’re still asking?”

“Don’t be mean.” The small window over his sink wasn’t broad enough to let the moon filter in, less full that it had been a week or so ago, “I’m going to miss you.”

“Yeah.” Jaehyun barely got the word out, “Yeah, me too.”

His house had become littered with your shared traditions, things the two of you had done in a time before Johnny and before Mark, before the four of you, before you and Johnny. Your cookies tucked away in tins, the movie your parents put on to lull you to sleep, last year's matching pajamas and his hand-painted apron. You’d piled blankets and pillows on the mattress in the loft, Jaehyun had set up his projector, and everything was lit only by his kitchen light, the television and his Christmas tree.

Eventually, you’d go back to the loft, and play the same film; watch the same story and whisper your wishes to just him, to just you. You’d scoot closer and closer and closer together still, like the world would hear your secrets if they weren’t uttered inches apart. And, finally, you’d fall asleep - usually, wrapped up in Jaehyun.

Tonight, perspective had shifted. Tonight, a brush of his arm was almost too much. You looked at him, turning off the sink, hoping something to say would come to you just by looking at him. He looked at you, hoping you could see something he couldn’t say written on his face, hiding behind his eyes. Across the room, your phone rang. Jaehyun looked after you did, eyes lingering on you when you said, “Hold on.”

Hold on to the moment, onto something that had passed.

He stood still, he held on.

“What if I changed the ending?”

Jaehyun had never heard that voice. You held your phone up to show your face twisting, “Haechan, it’s almost one o’clock in the morning.”

Oh.

“You’re still up, aren’t you?”

You looked up at Jaehyun, “Yes, but I’m busy.”

“Doing what?”

An explanation was lost on you. Indulging, holding onto something, tripping yourself and confusing yourself and losing yourself where you’d always been. The movie played to fill the silence, the music did, too. Jaehyun watched as you chose not to answer, chose to preserve your bubble, “What if you changed the ending, how?”

Haechan, faceless Haechan, hummed in thought, “It’s basically the same, but Sanghoon doesn’t crash.”

Jaehyun thought about leaving the room, you said, “Okay, so what happens?”

“I leave it up to her.” Haechan seemed pleased with himself, his voice tired but pitched high. Jaehyun had no way of detecting the smugness pulling at Haechan’s lips when he explained, “She gets to choose.”

“Who does she pick?”

The question was hefty, heavy on your tongue. Haechan tsked, “You have to read it. That’s your job. Then crush my dreams and tell me that it’s shit, again.”

“I didn’t do that, the first time.”

“Where are you?” Haechan leaned closer to the screen, “That’s not Johnny’s.”

The sound of his name in your bubble made Jaehyun feel uneasy, uncomfortable, tense.

“I’m not at Johnny’s.” The sound of his name in your bubble from your lips broke him, “I’m with Jaehyun.”

Haechan seemed to perk up, “Editor number two is there?”

“An unpaid intern.”

“I want to see him.”

“I don’t think you should.”

“Of course I should.”

Jaehyun cleared his throat, “I don’t mind.”

You hesitated, standing feet away from him and looking from your phone screen to Jaehyun and back again before you relented, “Come here.”

He took seven long strides to stand next to you, hover over you, smush himself into frame next to you. Jaehyun brushed against you, again, fingers needing to reach yours, to wrap around them. He held still, only breaking to wave, “Nice to meet you. I liked your book.”

“Yeah, I bet. I liked your notes. They were much more forgiving.” Haechan leaned back, arms holding up his head, “But, you get it, right?”

Jaehyun nodded. He didn’t know if he meant to, but his head bobbed up and down. You saw it, mirrored on your screen, causing your hand to shake, to fumble the grasp you had on your phone. Haechan was still smug, entertained in his apartment miles away.

He watched the two of you before he added on, “I get it, too, Editor.”

“Goodnight, Haechan.”

“Seriously, I do.”

Your head was pounding, “Write your new ending. I’ll read it after the holidays.”

Needing the last word, Haechan smiled a cheshire grin and reminded, “Whatever you say, Editor.”

Jaehyun watched you crumble for a minute, silencing your author by hanging up your phone. He held on like you asked and put his own weight on Haechan’s words, she gets to choose. Jaehyun tapped your fingers with his, caught your attention and reminded you to breathe, “Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah. Okay.”

You were in the loft an hour later, the movie was on, just barely audible. It was the only thing lighting up the loft; the dull light from Jaehyun’s old projector and a black and white movie. You settled into your spot, he adjusted and settled into a verizon of his further away from you than he’d ever been. Neither of you spoke, neither of you moved.

Outside the wind picked up, blowing snowflakes around the ground, the air, against the windows of the loft. Pulling the blankets closer, wanting to be closer, you called out, “Jae?”

“Yeah?”

“It’s cold.”

“Yeah.” He made a choice, she gets to choose at the back of his mind. Jaehyun made a move and opened his arms, “Come here.”

There was space between you, space between what he’d said and where you were on the mattress. It took a second, it took a minute, it took an eternity for you to choose and Jaehyun waited, he held on and held his breath until you came closer, filling what had been empty and lingering between you.

You weren’t touching still, you hadn’t settled, when you asked him, “Is this okay?”

Jaehyun tried to sound sure of himself when he said, “It’s what we’ve always done.”

You reminded him, “We’re changing.”

And Jaehyun whispered, begged and pleaded, “Not everything.”

He was warm, his hold was familiar. You hadn’t been in this spot for months and sinking into him felt like a memory and reality all at once. Jaehyun could smell your shampoo, your perfume, his senses overwhelmed by it, “I missed you.”

“I’ve been right here, Jae.”

“I know.” He took in a breath, he pressed his lips to the top of your head, your forehead, your temple - just like he’d always done, “What do you want for Christmas?”

“Jae.”

His name was hanging in the air like the answer, like a question, like something unknown. Jaehyun was wavering, on the edge of another move he knew he shouldn’t make. It was dangerous having you so close, it was comfortable, too. He couldn’t straighten his mind, “Tell me. You always do.”

He could remember most of them, he could hear you whispering them to him over time. In the fourth grade when you wanted, more than anything, to go to Disney World. In the sixth grade when you wished for a phone, tired of running notes down the street and taping them to Jaehyun’s front door. He could hear you wishing and hoping and praying for Sicheng to ask you out, the winter after he’d arrived. And, Jaehyun could recall how the only thing you’d wished for during college was to pass your classes, for him to pass as well.

You could close your eyes and see the way Jaehyun described his wishes in the third grade; a rocket, one built for a kid to fly straight to the moon and back. In the sixth grade, he’d gained a bit more sense, wishing for a perfect smile in defiance of his braces. Jaehyun had wished for a car before his birthday, for the opportunity to drive you around and see the world - or as much of it as you could before curfew. It was harder when you both became adults, when most of your most sensible wishes had come true. But, Jaehyun would only ever wish for one thing, “I want you to be happy.”

“Me too.” And you’d correct him, “For all of us.”

“All of us.”

When he asked you, now, you sat too long with the question. You aired it out too long.

If you told him you’d already gotten it - if you told Jaehyun that there was a star in the sky with your name on it, a telescope pointed towards it and Johnny Suh waiting for you - too much would shift at once. If you told Jaehyun that being here, with him, was enough - that it was all you ever wanted or thought to want - time would stop. There was no way to say what you needed, what you wanted.

“I don’t know.” It was the truth, “Snow.”

His heart stopped, “Snow?”

For the seasons to change, for the stars to shift, for everything to settle into a new and comfortable place. You wanted and wanted and needed just what Johnny said, safety. And you felt it, in the loft with Jaehyun - in your bubble, in your world, wrapped up in each other. You’d felt it in Johnny’s apartment, when he kissed you, when he saw you bare in front of him and the breath rushed from his lungs. You felt safe when it was you and Mark, working together in silence, laughing and singing and existing as you were. And the four of you together… you’d do anything to keep it.

So, you would wish for snow and you would wish for spring. You wished for summer and for the leaves to give into fall, so the world could keep spinning exactly as it was.

But for Jaehyun, you wished away his time with you. You wished away his season and the way you were, the way you’d always been. He told you, “I wish for spring.” The time before, the selfish time before when he didn’t know time was running out, “And time.”

“Time.”

Jaehyun pulled you closer and felt how you tensed, hesitated like you never had before. He wished that away, kept his wishes to himself and told you, “I just want this. I’ll always want this.”

“Me too.” You closed your eyes, head resting on his chest. Jaehyun’s heart beat once, twice and you waited for the third before you asked again, “You’re leaving for Christmas?”

He promised, “I’ll be back before New Years.”

📻

Johnny had his arms around you, standing in front of your tree and waiting for Mark to arrive, “I have one more present for you.”

“How is that even possible?” You looked back at him, shock knitting your eyebrows and curiosity lifting the corners of your lips, “That’s insane.”

“Come with me.” He pulled you from the tree, fingers playing with your own and stepping backwards until his heels hit the bottom step. Johnny led you up the stairs and into your bedroom, “Here.”

It was an emerald green box with a crimson red bow, “What is it?”

“Something small, but I want to explain it.” He watched you weigh the box in your hands, “If you don’t think it’s a good idea then you can use it however you like.”

“I’m getting nervous.”

“Don’t be, baby. It’s really nothing. Open it.”

You untied the bow, letting it slip down the sides of the box before you pulled off the top and tossed it onto your bed. Johnny was watching, you were holding your breath; a notebook, simple and small, with your name etched into it, “It’s nice.”

“Try not to sound so let down. It has a purpose.” Johnny took the box from you, putting it to the side and coming closer. He looked down at the leather bound book in your hands, ran his fingers over your name, “I don’t want to overstep, but I want to know what you’re thinking and sometimes…”

“What?”

“I think you’re right - people use written words when spoken words fail them. That’s what you said, right?”

“Right”

He shook his head, “I thought it might be nice to have somewhere to write all the things that go on in your head.”

“Like a journal?”

“Kind of. Specifically, I wanted you to write down the things you want to tell me. All those worries you say are nothing, you know, if they’re too hard or too complicated to say out loud, you can write them here. And then-” Johnny flipped the book in your hands, his name printed on the opposite side, “I can write back. Until it gets easier to say them, we can write them in here.”

“Oh. Johnny.”

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay, too.” He ducked down so he could see you, so you’d look at him and really hear what he was saying. He wanted to give you the space to do the same, “I know it’s not easy. We could just text each other, too. Or e-mail. I think my parents might have a fax and we could do that or morse code.”

“Johnny, stop.” Your cheeks were aching again, watching him spiral to coax out a grin, a laugh, a reaction. It worked, it always would, “I think…I think it’s a good idea.”

“It might not work.”

You balked, jaw dropping, “Well, don’t bail on me now.”

Johnny chuckled, “If it doesn’t work, use it as a journal. I won’t read it unless you tell me to.”

He said he’d find a way, he promised he’d keep trying to figure things out. Johnny had tapped at your forehead, knocking around tangled up thoughts and swore he’d use his hands as gently as possible to work out the knots. His confession of uncertainty had been a moment of clarity for you, a reminder; Johnny had things he couldn’t say, things he spent time working out. He had words that got stuck in his throat and moments where he was unsure.

J-o-h-n-n-y.

Pressed into the other side of your book, one cover for you and one for him with pages of both of you in between. He gave you another space, handed it to you and offered to help you fill it, when you needed him to. You whispered, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, babe.” The doorbell rang, “Mark is here.”

📻

“I’m really happy for you two.” Mark had worn the same pajama pants - ones with The Grinch, his dog Max and Cindy-Lou Who scattered on them - for as long as you could remember. They were torn at the knee, now, fraying at the bottom. Just below his right hip there was an unidentified stain from three years ago - food coloring, maybe, you’d never been able to tell, “Renjun kinda banned me from talking about it.”

“Oh yeah?” Johnny bit into a stocking-shaped cookie, leaning onto the counter and teasing Mark, “How much were you talking about it, Mark?”

Mark grumbled, “I didn’t think that much.” The tin in front of him popped open and Mark sifted through the gingerbread, “Are we gonna decorate these?”

You nodded, “We can, I have stuff to use.”

Johnny looked over his shoulder, “When did you make all of these?”

“Jaehyun and I did, before he left.”

“Did you give him his gift?” He stood upright when he asked, brushed the crumbs from his hands. Johnny came to you, you nodded, “Did he open it, yet?”

“I don’t know.” It was Christmas morning, almost midday. The three of you had torn open presents, passed them around, sat in a mess of paper and bows and boxes. His name had been on a few of them, three for Mark and two for Johnny, tucked under the Christmas tree the morning you’d left his house, “I’ll ask him later.”

Mark vocalized the thought that lingered, all this morning and all last night; in the moments he should’ve been with. the three of you, the ones captured in the flash of your polaroid. He bit into an undecorated cookie and said, “It’s weird without him here. These need icing.”

“Yeah.” Your agreement came out with a laugh, “Let’s decorate.”

Blue and green icing, red and yellow, mixed into orange. There were bowls of candies and sprinkles spread out between the three of you. You drew smiles, and stuck on chocolate eyes. Johnny drew a necktie and glasses, Mark made a beanie that matched his own. The three of you made a gingerbread family, a gingerbread world laughing over music, over each other.

Somewhere, buried under ingredients and wax paper, your phone buzzed. A message from Jaehyun lighting up your screen, 12:34pm Merry Christmas

He sent a picture; Jaehyun in a similar mess, holding his family dog and in a pair of jingle bell-patterned pajamas, identical to yours. You smiled, hearing Johnny and Mark laughing, hearing the same Christmas songs. You smiled and sent back, 12:36pm You opened your present.

Jaehyun replied, 12:37pm Let me see yours.

The same pair, a similar setting and a completely different place. You sent him a picture of you, Johnny, Mark and your gingerbread world in the background. Then, you told him, 12:38pm Merry Christmas, Jaehyun.

His heart ached, telling you, 12:39pm Your wish came true.

Another picture; outside a six-pane window, snow glistening in the daylight.

Then, he sent another, 12:40pm Is it snowing there?

Johnny came to stand next to you, a fresh cup of coffee in his hands in a Santa shaped mug. He put his chin on your shoulder, “Did he make it there alright?”

“Yeah.”

You showed him the picture of the weather; white snow covering the ground, capping the trees, contrasting a bright blue sky. It wasn’t too different from the streets outside your house; snow-covered roofs substituted the trees and the sky was a dull shade of grey. Johnny tapped the picture of Jaehyun, his dog, and he smiled, “He got his pajamas.”

Mark was over your shoulder, too, “Aw, you guys still match, huh?”

Johnny kissed your cheek, “Make you feel better, babe? It’s like he’s here. Look, Mark even made a gingerbread Jaehyun.”

It was resting in his hand; pronounced blue icing side burns, white piped on dimples. He had brown M&M’s for eyes, a squiggly red mouth and two orange gumdrops for buttons. You laughed, “Hold it up.”

Then, once you’d taken a picture of it - Mark’s hand in the middle, Johnny’s giving a thumbs up - you sent it to Jaehyun with another message, 12:44pm Yeah it snowed last night. Mark made you :) Miss you Jae

And he replied, 12:45pm I miss you too

📻

I always thought it would be you.

Highlighted in a soft blue, read over and read over and obsessed over for the last hour. The middle of Haechan’s new ending had been open on your lap, page unturned. I always thought it would be you in the silence of your living room made your skin crawl at first, your heart plumet second.

You put your marker between the pages, needing to stretch your legs, holding your place for when they circled you back. I always thought it would be you.

“I always thought it would be you.” Saying it out loud didn’t help; the words echoed off your walls, came back and weighed down your tongue. The second time you repeated it, out loud, your phone was in your hand and pressed against your ear, “I always thought it would be you.”

“It’s a good line, right?”

It was devastating, “What’s the motive?”

“Did you keep reading?” Haechan asked, “I think you need to keep reading.”

You groaned, “I might drop you as a client.”

He laughed, “No you won’t. Keep reading.”

The line went silent, your phone suddenly heavy in your hand. The weight followed you up your stairs, tethering you to the stack of paper left on your couch. The words echoed even louder in your bathroom, muffled briefly by the sound of water running. They settled on your chest when you sank into the water, slipped past your closed eyelids until it was like a marquee against the darkness.

You picked seven words apart until the water ran cold, until your fingers were wrinkled and your body was shivering. It wasn’t enough.

You picked up your phone again, “Hey.”

“Are you busy?”

Jaehyun shuffled on the other end, you could hear a door open and shut before he responded, “No. Are you okay?”

You nodded, leaning forward and pulling at the plug, watching as the chilled water drained, “Haechan sent the edited ending.”

“Ah. How was it?”

“I can’t get through it.” You wanted him here, needed another ear. It felt selfish to say, selfish to want, selfish to even think of it. Jaehyun hummed on the other end, “I need your opinion.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“You sure you’re not busy?”

“I’m not.” He encouraged, “Tell me.”

“I always thought it would be you.” You paused, letting the words hang in the air again, pulling each letter into position to give Jaehyun time to understand them, “She says that to Sanghoon.”

“Oh.” Jaehyun’s world went on, time moved forward. He hoped you didn’t notice how his breathing slowed, stopped all together. Momentarily lost in the words before you’d gave them an explanation, “It seems honest. They’d talked about that kind of thing before.”

“Doesn’t it take away her choice, though? It’s still predictable.” You sighed, pulling yourself from the tub and wrapping a towel around you, “If she always thought it would be Sanghoon, there was never any real room for someone else.”

“Maybe.”

“What do you mean?”

“It wasn’t final.” Jaehyun sought out the right words in the ground beneath his feet; melting snow just barely covering pavement, “With either of them. So, maybe she was holding out for Sanghoon because she always thought it would be him.”

You walked across the hallway and into your bedroom, sitting at the foot of your bed and wishing for him to go on, giving Jaehyun the opportunity to continue, “Or?”

“Or maybe she was waiting to tell him so she could let him go.”

“Like a goodbye?”

“Maybe like a goodbye.”

You blinked, you let it settle and you blinked. Across from you there was a perfectly crafted timeline of pictures and it felt too on the nose. You’d placed the feeling, you’d known the feeling. Jaehyun cleared his throat and you whispered, “That’s heartbreaking.”

“A little, yeah.”

A thought as a promise, a thought as a means of goodbye, “I always thought it would be you.”

Jaehyun had to ask, needing you to stop repeating it, “Does it help to say it?”

“I don’t know yet.” You asked him, “Have you ever felt that?”

It had helped when Sanghoon compared her to the sun, to have Jaehyun relate to that feeling. It had helped tie it to reality, to something that felt real and alive. It hurt more to know, “Yeah, I have.”

You dared to ask, “Like a promise or a goodbye.”

Jaehyun, through the phone and miles away, was brave enough to admit, “I don’t know, yet.”

“Yet?”

He could feel his boldness leaving, could feel it slipping away with every second he hesitated. Jaehyun tried to gather himself, trying not to give himself away. He reminded himself of your bubble, of the time he promised and he settled with, “Sure. Not yet. Hey, look, I have to go.”

“Sure.”

“But keep reading. If you need me again, let me know.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll talk to you later, Jae.” It had been a week, so you told him, “I miss you.”

He was quiet when he said, “I miss you, too.”

📻

Jungwoo had planned a party - one with a more concrete purpose. The end of the year was something worth celebrating, maybe more so than his own unemployment. He crafted a theme, made Ten design a graphic to send in the group chat and has half of you digging through storage bins to accommodate it; school uniforms.

When you saw Johnny, your heart stopped; his nametag was worn, his green tie was still askew and his old brown sweater strained at his shoulders, pulled tight on his biceps. He looked all the same and completely different from the day you’d first met him.

He was waiting outside your house, at the bottom of the steps, everything felt familiar; a new and old familiar coming together. Johnny in his old school uniform, Johnny calling you baby. Johnny with a certain grin on his face, Johnny hesitating to lean in for a kiss - only to check with you, only to let you choose.

“You think I’ll get in trouble?”

You stopped at your door, leaning your back against it, “Why do you ask that?”

“My sleeves are too short.” Then, Johnny tapped at his necktie, “I think they gave me a faulty tie.”

You grinned, hair blowing in a chilling breeze., “Too late to take it back now.”

“You’re probably right.” He took a step up, “Look at you.”

Johnny couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen you like this; in your winter blazer, the sweater and tie that matched his. You’d shined your loafers, or maybe you’d always kept them that way. He couldn’t remember. Your skirt was maybe an inch shorter, higher on your thighs than it had been and hugging your hips, but you looked mostly the same.

Mostly.

Johnny’s heart was beating in a way it hadn’t, the last time you’d both been in your uniforms. Then it was adrenaline from skipping class, it was unbridled mischief; the way his heart raced at seventeen and eighteen and nineteen was excitement settling in his chest. Johnny knew his heart skipped beats when he was late for his exams, when he was reprimanded, when he missed the bus. He knew it got caught in his throat when he got lost in a daydream and he heard his name called.

Now, all those feelings had changed, they repurposed and reserved themselves for you. His heart beat so particularly for you. His heart raced when you looked at him, when you’d catch him staring and you’d pretend to be annoyed. Delirious and lost in your touch, Johnny’s heart skipped beats when his name slipped from your lips; a sigh, a whisper, a moan. Johnny’s heart got caught in his throat when he wanted to make a promise, when he wanted to tell you and promise you everything he felt.

You looked at him, at his tie, and while Johnny was frozen in time, in thought, in his place, you came to him and fixed it - just like you always did, “You wanna get going?”

“Yeah.” He pulled your hands from where they rested on his shoulders, “Yeah, let’s go.”

Jungwoo’s apartment was full; of life, of people, of songs you hadn’t heard in years and an energy you couldn’t quite place. It was a strange way to end the year, confined and crowded in a cluster of multicolored uniforms.

Jaehyun saw you as soon as you walked in; how Johnny kept you close to him, anchored you at his side while he navigated the crowd. He saw you and couldn’t see much of anything else. The last time he’d seen you in your uniform you were on the hood of Jaehyun’s first car; a hand-me-down from his parents, an older model that had seen better days. The last time Jaehyun had seen you in your uniform was the first time he considered telling you, confessing; terrified that the next chapter in your life would pull you apart.

It was always the loss of time that pushed him and Jaehyun didn’t want to admit that it always made him a moment too late.

The last time he looked at you - your chocolate brown sweater tied around your waist and your pale blue blouse unregulated, unbuttoned, unburdened by rules after graduation - Jaehyun almost convinced himself to be bold.

It would’ve been easier at nineteen, most things were. The way he looked at you, the way you smiled at him. How he could reach over and hold your hand and never think twice about it. Youth or yearning, a mixture of both, could’ve been enough, it should’ve been enough.

He’d worked himself up that night, years ago. Jaehyun had waited, white knuckled in his car, parked outside your house until you climbed in. You were parked on a hilltop, looking over your house and his and the parts of the city you could see when he asked, “How much do you think college will change us?”

“You and me?” Your nose scrunched, fueled by the belief that you and Jaehyun were indestructible, “It won’t. Right?”

“Right.” Jaehyun believed it, you did, too. When you shivered, he pulled you closer, scooted closer and put his arm around you, “Maybe nothing will.”

The memory made him feel sick, it made the room spin. Jungwoo’s apartment had been ripped from the building and thrust into a whirlwind - maybe nothing will. The tie around his neck felt tighter, halting his conversation with Taeyong and Ten, “Hey, I’ll be right back.”

You weren’t that girl anymore, the thought made him stumble. You weren’t seventeen or eighteen, not nineteen or twenty. You weren’t eleven in the loft, thirteen counting stars or fifteen wishing for Sicheng. Jaehyun was processing too many versions of you at once; desperately seeking out one that felt rooted, grounded, real. He couldn’t catch up to you, he didn’t know what he’d say. Jaehyun stopped himself halfway through the crowd and stood still in time, yet again.

Johnny walked you into the kitchen, holding you flush against him where you’d stood that night. He was intentional about where and when he stopped you, “This is the place.”

“What?”

You turned around, watching him disappear into a memory and come back to you in a matter of seconds. In a blink. Johnny smiled down at you, past you and present you and any future you he’d be able to have. Then, he leaned in and clarified, “This is where I fell for you.”

In Jungwoo’s kitchen, in a moment between you two. You looked around, hoping to find traces of Johnny’s cherished memory, hoping to see you and him in some definitive moment where everything fell into place. When you came up short, you turned back, “Tell me about it.”

Johnny nodded, “Okay.” He put his hands on your waist and instructed, “Up.”

So, you jumped - not asking how high, knowing if you fell short that Johnny would be there to catch you. He helped you up onto the counter and rested his hands on your thighs, “You were so drunk.”

“Not narrowing it down. I’ve been drunk here, a lot.”

“And we were dancing…” Johnny turned and pointed to the floor across the room, “There.”

“Ah.”

“I thought I drank too much, at first. I was so confused, I think? Because you were almost falling and your singing was really bad.” With every word, Johnny’s grin grew wider and the picture he painted became clearer, “But you were so beautiful.”

“You’re weird.”

“I’m serious. I had never seen you like that. It felt like a hallucination, sometimes it still does. But, something clicked and I went home that night thinking I’d sleep it off and go back to normal.”

“Back to normal?”

“Close enough. Every night I convinced myself I’d feel different the next day and it never happened. It got worse.”

“Oh no.” Your laugh leaned you back, had you resting your head on the cupboard behind you, “Not worse.”

“All I could think about was kissing you. For weeks.” He explained, “Every time I saw you.”

You nodded, “Keep going.”

He pulled back, “Do you want a drink?”

“Please.”

Johnny moved around the kitchen, he poured and mixed and told you, “That feeling never went away. I still always want to kiss you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Johnny caged you in, found a way to make space for the two of you in Jungwoo’s kitchen, again. Where it all started, where he fell. You held onto him, slipping enough you might call it falling, too. He leaned in, closer and closer until his nose brushed against yours and he reminded you, reminded himself, “I’m so lucky, now.”

You echoed, agreeing again, swept up in him, “Yeah. Me too.”

“There you guys are!” Mark was in the same chocolate brown and powder blue uniform as you and Johnny, flanked by Jaemin and Jeno in yellow and black. He was unstable on his own feet, a goofy smile on his face you’d seen before. You laughed, maybe Jungwoo’s kitchen was the place to be drunk - the place to stumble and maybe let yourself fall. Mark made space for himself without issue, putting his head on your shoulder, “When did you get here?”

You countered, sipping on your own drink, “When did you get here?”

“Hour ago?” Jaemin answered, voice easy but slurred, “Jungwoo wanted us to do shots.”

“Jeno, can you hand me some chips?” Mark’s hand reached pathetically across the kitchen, willing the snacks to find him in case Jeno couldn’t, “I’m so drunk, dude.”

Johnny smoothed down his hair, “We can tell.”

“I didn’t know Jungwoo knew so many people.” He giggled, he tucked his head in closer to you and giggled to himself, “That’s so crazy. Jaemin knows a lot of people too.”

“Yeah?”

“He fucked his professor.” It was meant to be a whisper, Mark’s best drunken attempt at one. He leaned closer to emphasize that, “I think he did it.”

Johnny howled, “Did you?”

Jeno answered for him, “Mark, I said he got fucked by his professor. She requested he switch classes.”

“Oh shit.” Your eyes went wide, then suddenly sympathetic. Jaemin chugged what was in his cup, “That’s rough.”

The three of them tag-teamed the story, Mark would slur out an accusation and Jaemin would downplay it, Jeno stood by to clarify anything lost in drunken translation. They filled the room with their laughter and yours and Johnny’s, added electricity to the quietest room in Jungwoo’s apartment. In the room to fall, you fell into conversation and fits of laughter, into each other. Johnny’s eyes never left you. In the room to fall, he fell deeper and deeper into you, into words he’d thought to write down, words he wanted to say out loud.

He watched you light up and light up the room. Johnny laced his fingers with yours and laced together your memories. This night, a night in April, the night you found yourself in the stars, the night you became his Juliet; it all melted together.

He didn’t notice you looking at him until you kissed his lips, “Hey you.”

“Hi baby.”

“You wanna go dance?”

“Of course.”

He pulled you off of the countertop, then, holding you steady and making sure you landed on solid ground.

📻

You’d lost layers of your uniform, as the night went on. The perfect bow you’d tied hung lazily around your neck and your knee socks had slipped down your legs. The clock on Jungwoo’s stove blinked 11:36 PM as you picked through snacks, caught your breath, sought out refuge. Johnny was lost in the crowd, somewhere dancing with Ten, somewhere singing with Yuta. Mark was on the couch, arms wrapped around Renjun and laughing with Yangyang, blinking when his head felt too light.

Jungwoo was over your shoulder, “What’s left?”

“Mm. Depends on what you want.” You pointed to an empty bowl, “Mark cleared that.”

He nodded, coming around your other side, “Are you having fun? It’s kind of crazy in there.”

“Yeah, it’s great.” You waited for a moment before you asked, “Have you seen Jaehyun?”

“He’s around somewhere.” Jungwoo hesitated, nodding as he settled on grapes next. He pulled some from their stem and craned his neck around the corner, pointing into the crowd, “There. He’s with Taeyong.”

It was the first time you’d seen him since before Christmas and he was a blur in the crowd, “Ah.”

“He missed you, you know?” He offered a smile; nodding towards the living room, “It’s all he talked about, over Christmas. His mom, too. She kept asking when you were coming.”

The room halted, the music fell silent in the other room and your head was filled with static, “What do you mean?”

“She said she missed you.” Jungwoo picked another grape from its stem, rolling it between his fingers. When he chomped down on it, when the grape gave a satisfying crunch between his teeth, he continued, “She was sad you couldn’t come.”

It was impossible to focus your eyes on any one thing; the nametag on Jungwoo’s uniform, the bowls and plates and platters of food, and Jaehyun. Jaehyun tucked away in a crowd, Jaehyun engulfed in a conversation, Jaehyun unaware. Jungwoo popped a fourth grape into his mouth, halfway through the third. His cheeks were full, puffed out when you told him, “I wasn’t invited.”

He straightened, “Ah.”

It wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t Jungwoo’s problem. But, your tone was sharp and confused, unstable when you asked, “You went?”

“Maybe you should go find him.”

“What did Jaehyun tell her?”

Jungwoo glanced behind him, “You had plans. He said you’d already made plans.” There was an unfortunate sympathy in his eyes, reasonable but pitiful, “I didn’t know.”

“No, I know. Neither did I.” You stepped back. In the room meant for falling, your heart was plunging - dropping down eight stories from Jungwoo’s kitchen to splat on the concrete, “Excuse me.”

Stepping around him, you heard Jungwoo curse under his breath; the quietest, “Shit.”

Jaehyun was with Taeyong, his head leaned in close to hear him. Jungwoo’s speakers looped through the same playlist, the same nostalgic mix, overpowering every conversation. But, when you stood in front of Jaehyun, when you’d made space for yourself in their conversation, he heard you perfectly, “You lied to me.”

Jaehyun blinked, eyes shifting to Taeyong, “What?”

Your jaw ached from how it was clenched. You could feel your teeth grinding, a firm barrier between the words forming on your tongue and your lips, “Come on.”

He followed. You didn’t give him a choice, you got to choose. Jaehyun only glanced around the room, the crowd, the bodies as he walked behind you, down Jungwoo’s hallway and into his bedroom. You didn’t speak for a minute, Jaehyun counted the seconds as they passed, and you didn’t think to look at him - not until your mind had cleared.

“You lied.” You tried to keep your voice from breaking, the alcohol did little to keep you stable, “About Christmas.”

Jaehyun swallowed. He let the music, muffled on the other side of the door, swallow him up and then, he tried to find a reason, “I couldn’t do it.”

“Why do you keep lying?” You were breaking, crumbling in front of him. Maybe nothing will was a lifetime away, another year ending and pushing it further and further away, “What is happening?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Nothing. I don’t want you to say anything.” You looked at him, eyes watering. You tried not to tremble when you saw him, tried not to let the rush of memories pull you out of this moment, “I’m so…”

Your vision blinked, flashed between where you stood and every place you’d been when Jaehyun looked like that; his ironed shirt tucked under his sweater, his tie done perfectly around his neck. He looked the same, he looked like your Jaehyun. Your heart was pounding in your chest trying to remind yourself of that; running down your street together, whispering secrets when you were meant to be asleep, silent conversations when it was too dangerous to even speak. He was there, somewhere, buried in whatever version of him you had now; the one that lied to you.

Jaehyun’s name tag was perfectly centered on his chest, just over his heart. Your breath caught, a sob kept at bay by a hiccup. You came closer to him, hands shaking when you reached up and flipped it upside down. Your initials looked back at you - yours and his, where you’d carved them before you graduated. Just over his heart.

“I can’t do this.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No. I can’t, Jaehyun. I can’t…we can’t keep doing this.” You stepped back, “I don’t want to be sorry, anymore and I don’t want to hear you say it. I don’t want you to lie to me and…”

“This isn’t about Christmas.”

“It is.” There wasn’t a point in keeping your tears from falling, not when you were caught in a hurricane, “You couldn’t do it so you lied and, and you…”

“Look at me.”

“Did your mom really want you to go there?”

Jaehyun shook his head, “No. I asked.”

Your voice broke, “Why?”

“I…” The only reason he had, the only thing Jaehyun could say and repeat and hope you understood, “I couldn’t do it.”

“Johnny and I are the problem.”

“No.”

Your jaw was clenched again, seething and shaking when you told him, “I don’t believe you.”

“Then what happens now.”

The room was quiet. She gets to choose. You could hear Haechan. I always thought it would be you. You could see the words written. Jaehyun waited, all he did was wait, losing more and more time and waiting.

“You don’t want to lose another friend.” The words he said sounded more bitter, somehow, when you repeated them, “Isn’t that what you said?”

He looked at the floor, shame filling his veins, his lungs, “You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

“I think…I think you might have to, for a while.”

Jaehyun took a step towards you, “I might have to what?”

“You know what.”

“Please.” The year was ending, his world was ending. Jaehyun watched time slip from him and you, in real time, watching the minutes tick closer and closer to midnight, “Please.”

“I think we have to stop being friends, Jae. I can’t be…I don’t think I can be your friend, right now.” You sat down on Jungwoo’s bed, slumped at the shoulders and shaking, “For a while.”

“I don’t get a say in that?”

“No.”

He covered his face with his hands, limiting the air he was breathing, feeling light headed, “You promised.”

It was cruel of him, bringing promises into it, “So did you. You lied to me.”

“I fucked up.”

“This isn’t just a fuck up, Jaehyun Something else is happening.” Your breathing was ragged, strained in your chest. It took hold of every word and squeezed the life out of it, “This whole thing is too much. I know you agree.”

“Not enough to give up.”

You stood up, “I have to go find Johnny.”

“I’m not giving up.” When you tried to step around him, Jaehyun held onto your arm. He stopped you and tried to stop time, “Please.”

Your heart shattered and the shards scraped at your chest, carved a bigger hole until it hollowed out. You looked at him, you tried to look at him, “It’s almost midnight, Jae. I have to go.”

He told you, like a promise, “You’re my best friend.”

And, like a goodbye, you said it back, “You’re my best friend.”

Then you left. Wiping tears from your chin, pulling the strands of hair that stuck to your cheeks, willing away the redness in your eyes, you left. Johnny was in the crowd, close enough to where you left him and seeking you out. He smiled when he saw you, he stopped in his tracks when he saw you. Johnny made his way through the small crowd and held your face when he saw you, “What happened? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” You brushed it off, “I’m drunk.”

“Yeah? That’s okay, baby.” Johnny saw Jaehyun then, looking just as you did; same uniform, same expression, tear stained cheeks and bright red eyes. He looked between the two of you, “Tell me the truth later, when you’re ready.”

Johnny didn’t push any further.

It was almost midnight.

“Ten!”

Mark was hanging onto Yuta and Jaemin, the loudest three voices in the room. Johnny cradled your face and kept your eyes on him. And Jaehyun stood in the threshold of Jungwoo’s living room, head pounding. He couldn’t do it.

“Nine!”

Johnny’s thumbs wiped away tears still lingering, kissed your cheeks where the trails cut off. Jaehyun closed his eyes.

“Eight!”

You laughed at something Johnny said, willing the sinking feeling away. Mark put too much of himself into the next number, drink sloshing in his cup and threatening to spill over.

“Seven!”

Jaehyun’s feet moved towards the door, towards his coat on the rack. Jungwoo stopped him by the kitchen, eyes apologetic and curious all at once.

“Six!”

The cheering was booming, excited, growing louder and louder the closer it got to midnight.

“Five! Four! Three!”

Jaehyun looked back to find you, to see you buried in the crowd and lost in Johnny. He watched as you leaned in, Johnny followed your lead. You got to choose.

“Two!”

He watched like he couldn’t look away. Jaehyun pulled his coat on and let his vision blur until he only saw you, the only thing that had ever been clear to him. Johnny smiled before he kissed you, he held your face and your attention and your heart and Jaehyun held the door. He turned before he could see it, before he could break his heart more, before time ran out and everyone cheered.

“One! Happy New Year!”

previous. masterlist. next.

[jonathanspenguinboxers]

What do you think Valentine’s guilty pleasure was? (he surely has one, don’t lie)

Oooooooh. Guilty pleasure.

On a serious-er level I think the arts. Obviously we know he is all shadowhunter elitist and making a good warrior so there is no room for art. However, he married a painter and made his son learn piano (that we assumed he taught Jace therefor he plays) so I think, despite its uselessness to him, he would enjoy watching Jocelyn pain, or playing piano.

On a funnier note, I think he would like dramatic tella novellas. He’d eat that shit up. After plotting and planning all day, he doesn’t want to use any more brain power and his biggest problem is whether Maria is going to choose the rugged cowboy or the prince-like loverboy. They’re so turn off your brain I think he’d enjoy it

[lostinlovingrevery]

🔪🐝❄️

Lubbies!!! Hi!

I can't wait to hear about your adventures in seeing Hugh in a few months <3

🔪 ⇢ what's the weirdest topic you researched for a writing project?

LOOOOOL THIS IS A GOOD ONE

hmmmm well a lot of the time when I research its usually regards to logan lore, actual history, or like...trying to find better words to replace words I repeat a lot lmao.

I feel like there was a weirder one- but on the top of my head it was the fic about Logan unable to get a boner but reader sucks him off anyway- i did a lil research on how erectile dysfunction works- and if you can have an orgasm without a boner.

As it turns out...You can. Depending on the person, it can be just as strong as an average orgasm or it can be weaker- everyone's different. Interesting!

🐝 ⇢ tag your biggest supporter(s) and say one nice thing about them

(is there a way to tag all my followers?????? no?)

@cruel-as-sin

I LOVE reading their reactions to fics, and how excited they get whenever I post my WIPS!!!!! I'm always looking forward to their reactions esp when I post anything naughty lol

We talk literally almost everyday, and they're just SO cool and so nice and they work so hard and make the best fics!!! Their sentence structure and their smut, and the way they write logan is just!!! *Chefs kiss*

I love our convos about logan and how down bad we are for him, but also it's nice to have another college student to complain about college with lol

@tezooks

I love their comments in regards to my smutty fics lmao

They're so active in the wolverine community and I love that! Super supportive, and absolute delight to talk too. Great humor as well!! We don't chat everyday but i consider them one of my bestie mutuals <3

@damimami1994

Dami is my personal cheerleader honestly. She's so gorgeous and inspiring !!!! She's listened to my messy ramblings of fic ideas and has helped me a lot in my writers block moments !!!

So so sweet, she makes me want to do better!

@trr3rr

Their smutty blurbs being dropped into my inbox gives me life. Also love the discussions they bring out about Logan!!!!

SUPER talented writer, like from everything to wordplay and creativity and all

@sidkneeeee

Lovely soul <3 been following me I think pretty much since I started posting fics??? I love her blog and the aesthetics, and her reblogs of my fics were what kept me going in the beginning!!! We don't talk a lot, but seems like such a chill yet full of the best vibes.

@rosenclaws

AAAAAAAAAAH Rose and her comments whenever I post something jsut gives me LIFE

I love how willing she is to chat with everyone, and the plots she comes up with!!!! the angst!! THE ANGST?1?!?1?1 ! comes up with the cutest ideas as well.

Shes so nice and I'm glad to have become friends with her!!!

❄️ ⇢ what's your dream theme/plot for a fic, and who would write it best?

oooooooh so this is tricky, bc I would love a plant! mutant reader x logan that's like a friends to lover style fic (but maybe slowburn, lots of tension and special moments and fluff) with a gooooood plot, something something like maybe supernatural related- or about conspiracy and corruption, or just a good ole mystery/thriller! and of course, some good ole fashion smut- bc we can't forget about the smut. and a protective logan. def need protective logan in there.

there's so many good writers on here, with their own talented voices!!! I could see it being wonderfully written by anyone yknow?? You can't make me choose!!!