#so maybe I'll update this one throughout the week

[ryteu]

The Parting Glass

The clock once more, as always, chimes the time

And says it's now that I must take my leave;

This merry holiday away, reprieve

From decay, numbing choking, in a lime,

Approaches now its destined apogee;

The fading final hours like violets shrink

Beneath the wrinkled leaves now fallen free

From Springtime boughs already at the brink.

No last song is sung when my time to rise

Has come; only I in sad and silent

Procession stand, my mind made resilient,

And go, hiding the light that in my eyes

No longer shines as I leave it behind

To serve as guide when next I may venture

To break the yoke, escape the snare, unbind

Myself from my ceaseless, senseless torture.

Still draw I ever toward that distant light,

Secure in mind that I will be welcomed

Back again to harbor safe and becalmed,

Though tossed within a dark and storm-wracked night.

There's no voyage I would not undertake

To pursue those beacons that I have left

Behind among those I could ne'er forsake,

For if lost, of all good I'd be bereft.

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | one.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 4.2k

—warnings: cussing/mature language, this is gonna start off kinda slow but i promise it'll get spicier lol, say hello to the rest of the professors in this fic ouweeee 🤪, some general bioengineering research terms, very vague mentions of mice research work, more of a glimpse into the yunho x san x iseul dynamic

—a/n: i'm also working on wooyoung's mini series so pls check it out! the next update will prob go up soon! ily <33

"Did you figure out your rotation for this quarter?" You walk alongside Jiung as you head to the Harvey Center, where Professor Choi's lab is located. Both you and Jiung had just finished up walking around campus to get your steps in, but to also check out the classrooms for all your upcoming classes this quarter and pick up books at the bookstore. Most of your classes were in familiar buildings, while two were entirely new. 

"Yeah, I gotta meet with one more professor then I think I can send off my final decision." You nod. Jiung is holding his bag of books and yours, not wanting you to haul them around campus with how heavy they can get.

"That's good."

"Yeah, hope so." He repeats. "Are you meeting with the other professors this week just to see if you wanna rotate in any of them instead?"

"Mhm. All in one week. I guess it makes it easier on me since I don't have to wait on anyone. I can decide by end of the week."

"Are you seeing them in person?"

"Just Professor Choi and Professor Kim. Everyone else said Zoom." Jiung nods.

"Wow, Professor Kim in person?"

"I heard he really values in person meetings." You chuckle. "Which is nice? Maybe it's cause he's the department chair."

"That, too. He just seems like that kinda person, though. He's super active in all the events."

"Truth." 

"Did you like rotating in Professor Bahng's lab last quarter?"

"I did. He was really cool. People in his lab are cool, too. I just.. I don't know? I didn't have a specific project I could focus on. Felt like I'd have trouble fitting myself in there and finding something to work off of. Everyone was great though, don't get me wrong. Just didn't click for me." 

"Makes sense. You wanna be happy and feel like you can thrive somewhere."

"Yeah, exactly. Plus, after talking to Sunwoo and Belle, I think my interests lie more in Professor Choi's lab." You look down at the bags before looking at the Harvey Center ahead of you. "You know you don't have to wait for me, Jiung. You can go to the apartment if you want."

"Nah, I'll wait. I don't have shit to do anyway." You swing the front doors open and Jiung instantly plops down on a free chair near the lobby doors. "I'll be here."

"Shit, I just realized I think his office is downstairs in the basement. I don't know if I have access."

"Where's Sunwoo or Belle?" You quickly pull out your phone and try to dial Sunwoo or Belle to help you. Unlucky for you though, none of them answer.

"I guess they aren't here for the day yet. They didn't pick up." You sigh. "Why didn't I think about this early on?!"

"Relax. It's fine! Poke your head around, I'm sure someone is there to let you in." You pucker your lips in dismay, hoping it doesn't cause any issues and make you late for your meeting. You should've asked for assistance in the first place, but it kinda blew over your head when Professor Choi responded quicker than you expected.

"Welp. Let's hope I don't fuck this up already." Jiung pats your head.

"You won't." You wave to him before heading into the elevators, down to the basement level of the building. It's quiet, and you don't see many people walking around despite it being close to 10am. As you approach the door to the basement, you peek into the window to try and catch a glimpse of anyone passing by in the visible hallway. To your luck, the hallway is dead and there doesn't seem to be any moving heads in any of the nearby lab rooms. You let out a sigh and take out your phone, wondering if you should just email Professor Choi to ask for assistance.

No, maybe someone will pass by in the next 5 minutes.

Give it 5 more minutes, then panic and email.

You tippytoe and peek through the window once more, muttering small curses to yourself for being so unprepared with your meeting. Now, he's probably going to think you can't—

"Y/N?" You turn to see Professor Choi behind you with a soft smile on his face. He's dressed in a grey turtleneck, black slacks and boots— large silver square-shaped frames sitting on the bridge of his nose. He has his hands in his pockets, a heavy leather bag slung on his shoulder. You're surprised he even knows it's you; then again, who else would be peeking into the basement at this time?

"Oh my god, hi—sorry." You pause, slightly embarrassed having Professor Choi catch you looking through the door's window the way you were. "I just realized I didn't have basement access so I was trying to see if anyone was around before bothering you."

"All good. Perfect timing, hm?" He taps his badge against the reader and swings the door open. "After you." You give him a curt bow as a thank you, slowly walking into the basement hallway. San trails behind you, and he takes note of the way you're dressed. You're in some wide-leg white jeans, a cream colored vest and some black platform loafers. It's cute, really. He gives you another toothless smile when you stop in your tracks and wait for him to lead the way. Hopefully, he didn't catch your eyes when you quickly skimmed his outfit again— he was tall and he was well-built, it was very obvious with that turtleneck he had on. He smells of a woody cologne, mixed with notes of jasmine and patchouli. It's not overbearing, but it definitely makes its presence known next to you. "How's your day been?" He asks and you just nod.

"It's been alright. I just went to pick up my books at the book store, explored around campus to make sure I knew where my classes were at. There's a few buildings I haven't had class in."

"That's good. Getting prepared for the quarter well I see." 

"Trying to, at least." He chuckles as he does an abrupt turn to the right and swings a door open. You follow him into another office space, where desks are lined up amongst each other. You find a few people sitting around, typing away on their desktops. It's too bad Sunwoo or Belle wasn't around. You'd probably feel a bit less nervous seeing their faces before the meeting.

"What's up, Professor Choi!" One of his lab members calls out. San does a quick nod and throws up a wave just as he unlocks his office door and steps inside. 

"Come in." He holds the door open for you once again. "Sorry it's a bit messy. I'm all over the place with these progress reports and finalizing class details."

"No worries! Honestly doesn't look messy to me." You look around seeing a stack of papers on his desk. Otherwise, everything is neat. He's got all his awards framed up and lined along the back wall. Books on shelves near his desk. A couch off to the side wall with two small pillows. A small coffee table. A mini fridge. Two chairs for guests at his desk. It's roomy, but not super roomy.

It smells like his cologne.

"Have a seat." He pulls out one of the two chairs directly in front of his desk. You sit and place your bag down on the ground, fixing yourself as Professor Choi sets his bag down and sits at his computer chair. "Gotta apologize again, it's my first meeting of the day so I don't have everything out and ready."

"No need to apologize, I get it." You chuckle and he smiles. 

"Your CV was really impressive." He says as he's pulling up said CV. He's looked at it enough times to have a photographic memory of it, which is the first for him. Right away, he can tell you'd work well in his lab. You have a good head on your shoulders, smart. Can contribute a lot. He just knows sometimes.

"Thank you." You smile and it makes San's smile grow bigger. 

"So, why do you wanna explore those areas? Tell me a little bit more about your experience with everything. Computational analysis, mice, 2P and opto-stim-neural circuit work. All that good stuff." He sits back a bit, his full attention now on you instead of your CV on the screen. You feel your hands get a 'lil clammy the more his eyes focus on you, your lips feeling a 'lil more dry than usual. Shit, he is attractive.

"Sure!" You quickly shake off the nerves and begin to tell him about your experience and interest in bioengineering. It all started when the field was briefly introduced to you in high school, and your curiosity grew to enormous levels when you found a few schools that had the specific undergrad program available. You've talked to a few seniors about their experiences, like Sunwoo, before solidifying your decision to move forward with the major. You tell him how you took a break after graduation to get some more hands-on experiences through two internships and a full-time job, working on in-vitro mice work, computational analysis and building and maintaining 2P microscopes. Then, you realized you really wanted to get back on track and pursue your graduate studies. You tell him about your rotation in Professor Bahng's lab last quarter and how you enjoyed it, but you were having trouble figuring out how you'd fit in the lab. When you talked to Sunwoo a little more about what he's been up to in Professor Choi's lab, your interest in opto-stim peeked, having been Professor Choi's niche. 

It's a nice, easy conversation. You find that Professor Choi isn't as intimidating as you thought. He chimes in with questions every now and then, making it a smooth two-way convo.

"Ah, Professor Bahng? That's my guy right there. Learned lots from him." You chuckle.

"He's brilliant."

"He is, he really, really is." He nods. "But I totally get it, it's good to experience things in order for you to understand what you really want or how to spend your time wisely."

"Exactly." You tilt your head and look at him. "That's pretty much it for me, though. Your work is great. I'm really interested in learning more and diving deep into opto-stim. I know the basics, but haven't gotten a chance to work with it. Sunwoo's project seems to encompass a lot of that, along with the other aspects I've worked with." 

"That's right. His project has been on a roll, same thing with Belle's. I can see you working between the both of them, most of your time with Sunwoo, though. I think you'll fit the best with his, and I can see a lot of potential avenues coming out of it. He's been asking for some help, too." He chuckles. "Why don't you talk to Sunwoo and Belle a little more? Then all four of us can meet in the next couple of days to finalize project ideas and details. Should be good to start the rotation afterwards if it all goes smoothly." Your eyes light up.

"Really? I-I mean, yes. I'll do that."

"Mhm. Let me know when you're ready? Just send me an another email."

"Thank you, Professor Choi." He smiles at you.

"You're very welcome. Do you have any other questions?" You look at him, head tilting out of curiosity.

"Um, not for the project. It's something more personal, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Go for it." He leans back again and rests his clasped hands on his lap.

"Why did you pursue this field?" San is having to pause because out of all the times he's met with students, people [besides formal interviews], no one has asked him that question. No one has asked him directly— people like to assume they know him because his name is out there, but not once has anyone asked about his experience.

"Hm." He hums. "It's probably gonna sound a little cliché and everything, so don't judge me." You giggle and shake your head. "It just felt like my calling? Kinda like you." When he smiles, you find yourself captivated by his dimples. They make everything about his smile so captivating and so, so charming. "I think you might know this already, but my dad was a biology professor. He always told me to challenge myself and think outside the box, and I think the early exposure to his career definitely shaped my path. He'd share his knowledge with me and try to ask me tricky questions. Make me think about what's around me, how things can be improved. Better understood. Then, I learned about bioengineering and tried to better understand it. Open new avenues for things that haven't been studied well yet. Just took lots of risks and tried things out. Failed lots of times before getting the hang of things."

"That's amazing. Your parents must be really proud."

"I hope so." He laughs. "Thanks for asking."

"Oh, no. Thank you. I wasn't sure if I overstepped with that question."

"What? No way. You're actually the first to ask and I appreciate that."

"Oh?" Is all you manage to get out, confused as to why he would say that. Has no tried to ask about him or get to know him a little better? Maybe it was just you, but you definitely thought building good, personal connections would bring more advantages than not— first and foremost, bringing comfort and ease, especially to any new environment. Who would wanna work in an awkward, tense setting?

"I mean it." San laughs. "I appreciate it. It's nice when people take a second to view me as a human and not a robot who is constantly churning work." 

"Course." The both of you maintain eye contact for a bit and it makes you feel so, so nervous that he's just looking at you. And he kinda is just looking at you. Observing you. He finds himself admiring your look once more; the hair, your smile, your nails. Cute. He knows he shouldn't, but truthfully, he can't really help himself when a beautiful woman is in front of him in general. He is a man, and a man who enjoys eye candy. "Anyway, I know you're probably booked and busy today, so let me get going."

"You're okay. I don't have anything until the next 30 mins, don't feel the need to rush."

"No, it's okay. I should totally let you be." You stand and smile at him as you sling the strap on your shoulder and tuck your bag close. "Thank you again, Professor Choi. I'm excited for what's to come."

"Me too. It'll be great, I know it." He stands, hands in his pockets as he follows you towards the door.

"Thanks." You turn to look at him, and he's not too far from you. "See you soon.. over Zoom?" You assume that since the basics and introductions are out of the way, it'll probably be more convenient for Professor Choi to do a Zoom meeting. Lo and behold, he surprises you with a: 

"In person would be nice." He smirks a bit. He does enjoy his in person meetings; they're more productive that way.

"Are you sure? I don't wanna waste your time."

"Never." He shrugs a bit. "I mean it. It's always better to talk in person, anyway." 

"I agree." You smile at him once more, hand on his door handle. "See you soon."

"Have a good one, Y/N. Feel free to email me if anything comes up."

"Appreciate it." You give him one last look before you swing the door open and find Sunwoo just about to settle down at his desk.

"Y/N! Professor Choi! Assuming it went well and I'll get the help I've been begging for?" San laughs.

"Yeah. I asked Y/N to talk to you and Belle about potential projects and to email me once she's ready so we can all meet and finalize details."

"Good with me." 

"Good with me, too." San gives you both a small, toothless smile before walking back into his office. "So, how'd it really go?"

"Good." You approach Sunwoo's desk. "He's not as intimidating as I thought. Kinda. Really laid back, though."

"Yeah, he's super chill and easy going. Super supportive. You'll enjoy it here." He waves his phone. "Sorry I missed your call earlier."

"I forgot I didn't have access into the basement."

"How'd you get in?"

"Professor Choi saw me peeking through the basement door window." Sunwoo snorts.

"Amazing first impression." You playfully pinch his bicep.

"Hate you." You pout. "I'm nervous."

"For what, dude?" He laughs. "I promise you, it's not that bad at all. As long as you put in the work and do what you need to do, everything will play out fine."

"What if I don't get into the lab post-rotation?"

"Don't say that." Sunwoo smiles. "You'll be good. Promise. You're smart and hardworking."

"We'll see. Maybe you'll realize how much of a pain in the ass I am when we work together."

"True." You glare at him and he laughs. "Kidding. Ready for classes to start soon?"

"No."

"That's the spirit." You chuckle. "Anyway, let me know when you're free this week. We can walk around the lab while we talk about projects. Belle is usually here around the same time I am so I'm sure we can grab her whenever." You nod. At this point, Chris and Yeosang walk into the room, the two in good spirits and engaging in lively conversation right before knocking on San's door. 

"Okay. I'll text you later, then. I gotta get back to Jiung, I left him upstairs."

"I saw." He chuckles and salutes just as he diverts his attention to the data on his desktop computer.

"Hi Professor Bahng, Professor Kang." You smile at them in passing and they nod in response.

"Hey Y/N! Nice to see you around these parts." Professor Bahng says with that usual happy tone of his. Professor Kang is a little more shy, but never fails to acknowledge you with a smile or soft 'hello.' Chris presses his ear to the door before laughing and swinging the door open, greeting San as casually as they can before the door shuts.

"Whattup!" Chris plops onto San's couch while Yeosang takes the other end.

"Nothing much. Just finished my meeting with the rotation student. You know her, actually."

"Oh, Y/N? Yeah! She's crazy smart. Think she'll do some good work in your lab." San nods.

"So, what's the plan you wanted to talk about?"

"I need to start planning the symposium for one of the grants. It needs to happen within the next month. Was hoping you can help us, give us a few tips? Maybe do a talk?"

"Where are you planning to do it?"

"Right next door at the Acacia Center, was hoping one of the huge conference rooms would be open."

"Probably the best place to do it because they can cater for the event, too."

"Who else can we recruit to do a talk, though?" Yeosang sits back and lets out a sigh. "Jongho?"

"Try seeing if Namjoon is free, that'll definitely draw some people." They all laugh in unison knowing Namjoon's power. "And make sure you do the whole email blast with flyers everywhere. Let people pass it along."

"Yeah, okay. But, also, don't hate me." Christopher looks at San with an awkward smile. San knows though, he knows very well what he's hinting at.

"We've already talked about this. I don't care."

"I know, but still. You're one of my good friends and I'd hate to put you in an uncomfortable position."

"Well, Yunho is always gonna be there and I don't expect things to change. We're always gonna have to work together despite what happened."

"I don't know how you do it, I'm sorry." Yeosang says, slightly shaking his head as he sinks into the couch a little more. 

"I agree. You're strong, man."

"I have no choice." San laughs. "Besides, I stopped letting that consume me a long time ago. It's none of my concern anymore. As long as I can get my shit done without issues and minimal contact, I couldn't care less."

"That's real, honestly." Chris lets out a breath. "Well, I'm gonna ask him to do a talk."

"Go for it. Will probably be good for the grant, too." San sighs. He meant it when he said he stopped letting the entire thing consume him a long time ago. And he does have to interact with Yunho whether he likes it or not; it's not like he's gonna give everything up just because he can't stand some petty drama from the past. Besides, he promised Namjoon he was okay. He promised he wouldn't cause issues even though Namjoon didn't expect any. But, it did hurt. He's not gonna lie— there are days when he still questions everything and he wonders why things unfolded the way it did. 

He just knows better now, and can actually brush it off without it affecting his mood, his surroundings.

"I gotta keep going through my list of people."

"I can ask around, too." San says. "Do you want me to see if the big conference room is free?"

"Yeah, please?" Chris laughs. "They give you everything."

"No, they don't." San rolls his eyes with a chuckle. 

"Damn near." Yeosang adds.

"Any of your lab members wanna do a poster presentation?"

"Uh." San shuts his eyes in thought for a second. "Let me ask, I think Yoon might have some good data to present."

"Okay, let me know." San nods. "You guys free for lunch later?"

"12:30, maybe?" Yeosang stands and looks at his watch. "I gotta get to my next round of meetings 'till then."

"Same. Text me where to meet?" Chris stands and nods before throwing up the peace sign.

"Will do. Thanks for the tips and for looking into the room."

"I'll let you know what they say." Both Christopher and Yeosang nod just as they walk out of his office and leave him to his peace. He makes a note to send an email after his next meeting about the room and catering, knowing how hard it can be to reserve a room within a month's time frame at this campus. He'll do what he can to help Chris, though— that's one of his good friends and somebody who didn't turn their back on him after everything that's happened. Even Yeosang, Mingi, Jongho. Namjoon. Of course, everyone works great together. Everyone is civil when they need to be. But San knows if he ever needed them, they'd be there for him in a heartbeat. 

They'd be the people he could turn to without question.

When it comes time for lunch, San is barely getting out of his meeting at 12:30pm. He finds Chris, Yeosang and Mingi at the café right across the way from the Harvey Center, falling in line with them just as it grows during the lunch hour rush. They grab their food and plop down at a shaded table off to the side, greeting a few familiar faces and passing students.

"What's up?" Yunho passes, nodding at the table and giving Chris' shoulder a quick massage. Iseul follows behind, not paying the group any mind. Yeosang, Mingi and Chris share their own 'hello's,' while Yunho and San continue to play the silent treatment with each other. Yes, San will work with Yunho if he needs to. He'll be civil, he'll act like nothing ever happened. He'll act like their relationship wasn't severed after everything that went down. But, if he's out here minding his business, eating lunch with friends— he'd rather not bump into Yunho and Iseul and make any small talk. Simply just cause. He's done a lot of work to get past that and he doesn't want anything to do it with anymore.

"Anyway." Mingi says, making Chris snort.

"Anyway. Ya'll trying to hit the gym sometime tomorrow?"

"I'm down." San says, scrolling through his phone. He'll scratch some time out of his evening to hit the gym since it's been a few days  since his last gym session. At least, he plans to finalize his class schedule before end of the day today— he'll have a little more breathing room once he submits that to the department.

"No way, you're not serious!" Your voice echoes as you exit the café, laughing along with Jiung and Felix over Felix's random encounter that he was giving you details about. San diverts his attention to your group, recognizing the outfit, the voice. He sips on his drink and continues to watch the smile on your face build, the animated hand gestures you use, the way you so attentively listen to every word your friends are telling you. Oddly enough, he finds that seeing you is a good distraction. He feels a little more relaxed post-5 second Yunho and Iseul encounter, a small subtle smile creeping up on his lips when he sees you throw your head back in laughter. It's soothing.

That's probably the moment he realizes you are enticing.

And to be honest, he's not understanding why he feels a certain pull to you; it's so uncommon and so, so foreign, to him. He doesn't even think he felt this way when he first started dating Iseul. Don't get him wrong— he did love her, he did feel the usual giddiness, the honeymoon phase, all of the above. Everything progressed as naturally as it could with that time. 

But with you, he's finding a certain itch. He's not sure how to relieve himself, especially when he knows he shouldn't. He can't. 

It'll be trouble having you around, he's very aware of that. It'll be a test for him, the boundaries he creates to make sure you both don't cross that line.

He can't.

Still doesn't mean he won't.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @angelqueendom

[indyanapolis898]

Away

mcu!peter parker x f!reader

Synopsis: Peter wonders why you didn't come over or answer your phone one night, so he decides to talk it out with you in your room.

🕸 ⋆｡°✩ ⋆｡°✩🕸

Peter slid the window up quietly, climbing onto the ceiling with grace. Dropping onto the floor, he looked around, seeing the room was void of people- one person in particular. His girlfriend, Y/N L/N, should've been in his room. 

"Y/N?" He whispered. No response. 

He invited you for dinner with him and May, yet, you weren't there. He dropped his suit and changed into a crewneck and jeans. 

"May?"

"Oh! Pete, you're back?" May called out from the other room. Her footsteps approached Peter's door. 

"Yup," he pursed his lips into a smile and nodded. 

"I didn't hear you come in. I must've been deep into the movie I was watching. It's a really good action movie I think you'd like, Pete."

"Yeah, I'll see it with you another time. Uh, did Y/N happen to come here already?"

May furrowed her brows as if she was thinking. "Mmm, no. She was supposed to for dinner, right?"

"Yeah. Maybe something got in the way. I-I'll call her." 

"OK, I'll go start on dinner, though."

Peter shut his door, dialing your number. It rang until it hit your voicemail. That worried the high schooler. You usually answered, especially on a night when you two had plans. Except, that was usually- before the past two weeks. You were becoming late to answering texts and calls, but this was the first time you ditched on plans.

He sat on the edge of his bed, his phone and hands on his lap. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how off you'd been acting. 

Did he do something? Did you do something? 

Maybe he was overthinking. He probably was. 

Peter dialed your number once again, listening to it go to voicemail. He shot you a quick text and decided to let the matter rest until you answered. 

He lay on his bed, phone at his side, waiting for a buzz. He'd occasionally hear one, yet it was usually for some dumb app. 

After ten minutes of lying and thinking, a few knocks were heard at his room door. Peter shot up, hoping it was you. You had just been late, and your phone was dead on the way to his apartment, right?

He groaned and deflated when he saw it was just Aunt May.

"Wow. You're happy to see me," May said facetiously with a chuckle. 

"Sorry," Peter shot a guilty smile. "I was hoping it was Y/N."

"Yeah, that's why I'm knocking. She called me and said she wasn't feeling good. Sorry, hun. Update me on how she feels throughout the week."

"Right," Peter nodded. "I will, thanks, May."

"Dinner's ready if you want it."

"I'm actually not very hungry," Peter looked down to the ground. "I'm gonna sleep... long day at school."

"Yeah, get some sleep, sweetie," May nodded with a knowing look, understanding he was upset about you.

***

Spider-Man peered through the window, sticking to the side of your building. He supposed he was being quite creepy, but he desperately wanted to talk to you. 

Your blinds were close except for the kink that had always been there. It was mostly dark in your room except for the faint glow of a phone in your bed. He could see your barely illuminated face.

Peter took a deep breath in and knocked lightly at your window. He could see you look up, slightly startled, until you spotted him at the window. 

You looked upset at the sight, reluctantly sliding out of your bed to your window. You unlocked the window, bringing it up.

"Peter!" You hissed in a quieter voice. "What are you doing here?" Your face was red up close, and it looked like you'd been crying.

"I- I mean, you weren't replying to your phone, and you didn't come over, so I-"

"So you came to my apartment while my parents are home, and you're in your suit!" You whisper-yelled. 

"Well- I- yes," Peter answered in disappointment and shame.

"Peter, you can't be here. Please go."

Peter's heart broke at that. "W-why? I don't get it... I do my best to be a good boyfriend. I thought I did enough?"

You broke down into silent tears. Peter climbed into the room and pulled you into a hug- you embraced it. 

"Please, Y/N/N, tell me what's wrong."

"I just-" You say through tears. "My parents say that you barely spend time with me, and they just talk bad about you, and that hurts. A-and the more I thought about it, the more I realized how busy you always are, and the times you aren't out being Spider-Man, you're thinking about Spider-Man work."

"Oh," Peter breathed out. He pulled his mask off, letting it fall to the floor. 

"I'd never agree with any of the bad things they said about you- it's just so hard to have your family bash your boyfriend. Sometimes I wonder if they know best."

"I don't know what they said... but I promise I can do better because you're right, and they're right. I haven't given you my all."

"Don't get me wrong- being Spider-Man is so important, and what you do is incredible. I just can't continue a relationship with two different people- it's taking a toll on me. And as much as it pains me... if we need to break up so you can continue being Spider-Man full time, then it's for the best," you choked up more tears. "But I don't wanna break up, Peter."

Peter felt his throat close up. "I don't wanna break up either. I can't ever quit being Spider-Man, but I can be a better Peter. You deserve more, and I'm so sorry. Give me one more chance, and I promise I'll make more time for you."

You hug him tighter. "I trust you. I don't ever want to guilt you, Peter. I'm sorry for pulling away over the past few weeks. I guess it's just been a lot on my mind."

"It's ok. I should be sorry. And, Y/N/N, if you ever need to tell me something important, I promise you can."

You nod. "I know. I guess I thought you'd be upset if you thought I was trying to make you quit your work or break up."

"I would never think that. We're strong- we can make things work."

You chuckle, breaking away from his embrace to sit on your bed. "I'm exhausted now, but at least I feel better."

"I'm glad I came here. I should go, though." 

You yawned. "No, don't go. Will you sleep next to me?"

Peter grinned. "What about your parents?" 

"Just sneak out before seven."

"Can do," Peter grinned, slipping under the sheets of your bed- wrapping his arms around you as you both drifted off to sleep, knowing things would be okay.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

hii hope your having a great day, hopefully this is comfortable for you if not that’s alright. so ethan and reader are best friends then reader gets invited to a wedding and shes allowed to bring a plus one so obviously shes gonna bring ethan and throughout the wedding ethan and reader keep making eye contact and smiling etc etc (obviously they are friends with benefits ifykyk) then suddenly reader and ethan disappear then it leads to smut yk and pls details 🙏🏻 tyy have an amazing day.

HELLO! :) I kind of kept the idea you had, but added the friends to lovers trope as well. I hope that's okay! I've been trying to right this for the last couple days and that was the only way I was getting the full inspiration to write a long fic haha.

Falling - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You need a date for your cousins wedding, so Ethan agrees to go with you. You're in a complicated friends with benefits situation, and him seeing you in your dress is too much for him to handle as he tries to sneak you away from everyone else.

Contains: 4.1k words, Fluff, FWB relationship, Oral-both m and f recieving, fem!masturbation, p in v sex. If i missed anything, please let me know:)

A/N: I'll update my master list tomorrow. Honestly a little nervous because I've written so much since the last time I updated it😅

Ethan is one of your best friends, but he’s also your friend with benefits, your sneaky link. No one else in the friend group was aware of what happened behind closed doors when the two of you were alone, or seemed to pay attention when Ethan would leave a party, that you’d slip out five minutes later. He asked about the friends with benefits thing after what you assumed would be a one-night stand, but that’s easier said than done when you see the person almost every single day.

He'd be lying if he said he wasn’t starting to get caught up in you, wanting nothing more than to have you to himself. You weren’t hooking up with anyone else, but he was always worried about you finding someone. The agreement was his idea, but you said it was fine as long as no one caught feelings. Your words played in the back of his mind every time he’d want to show you affection outside of hooking up. It took everything in him to not grab your hand or pull you into a kiss whenever he wanted to.

He still felt like he had the best of both worlds. He loved that you two could be playing video games one minute, and you’d be bent over the side of his bed the next. He thought you were beautiful, but your personality is what really sucked him in. He loved to listen to you talk about the things you’re passionate about and loved the way you treated people.

As you put your clothes back on after a quickie before your afternoon class, you started to think about your cousin’s wedding you had to go to, and how you still needed a date. You knew that if you asked Ethan, he’d say yes. You still felt nervous about the date concept, though, because your family would be there. They’d take the ‘He’s just a friend’ thing and twist it until they’d ask if he was coming home with you for the holidays.

Ethan noticed that you were lost in thought, and started to think he might’ve done something wrong.

“Was I too rough?” he asked, sitting down on the side of the bed. It snapped you out of your thoughts as you started to smile.

“No, that was perfect,” you said, sitting beside him.

“What’s on your mind, then? I could tell you were thinking about something.”

You sighed, turning your head towards him, “Okay, you might think this is a stupid idea, but my cousin is getting married in two weeks, and I kind of need a date. Would you maybe want to go with me? It’s okay if you don’t.”

He started to laugh at your rambling as you said everything so quickly that it was hard for him to keep up. “I’ll go with you.”

“But my whole family will be there, and it might get a little awkward,” you said, as his hand rested against your thigh.

“I’ll go with you,” he repeated. You were about to say something else, before he continued, “What, are you nervous they’re going to call me your boyfriend or something when they introduce me to people?”   

“Yeah,” you said, as he leaned in to kiss you.

“So what if they do?” he smiled, “We’re about to be late for class if we don’t leave right now.”

Later in the week, you started to talk to Ethan about the wedding, and the dress code requirements. It was a black-tie event, meaning Ethan needed a suit.

“Does this look okay?” he asked, walking out of the dressing room. You glanced up from your phone, your mouth falling open as you gawked at him. “My eyes are up here, sweetheart.”

You started to laugh, your cheeks turning pink as you composed yourself. “Yeah, you look really good.”

“I wasn’t sure, that kind of reaction usually means really good, or really bad,” he said as he headed back in the dressing room to change back into his clothes. You almost didn’t want him to take it off. He was always attractive, but there was something about seeing him in a suit that made you a little hot and bothered.

When he walked back out with the suit bag in his hand, you couldn’t help but think how torturous the wedding was going to be if you had to look at him dressed like that all day, silently cursing your cousin’s dress code as he went up to the counter to pay for it.

Your reaction made him feel a lot more confident about being your wedding date. He was excited to go with you, but he was scared that he would look awkward when he knew you’d look amazing. He wanted to impress your family, too.

The day of the wedding, you took so long to get ready. Ethan had been in the parking lot waiting for you thirty minutes after you said you’d be out.

“We’re definitely going to be late,” he said to himself, as he pulled out his phone to text you again.

Then he glanced up and saw you walking down the stairs of your apartment complex, holding up your long dress a little so it wouldn’t drag the ground. His eyes widened as his heart pounded in his chest. He was realizing how difficult the night was going to be for him to keep his hands off you.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” you said, opening the passenger door. As you sat down, you looked at him in the suit again as you closed the door. You racked your brain for the right way to compliment him, because if you spoke your mind, you’d never make it to the wedding and just take him inside to fuck him. You finally settled on a simple “You look good.”

“You are so beautiful,” he blurted out before he had a chance to think about what he was saying. You curiously looked over at him as you giggled, before he continued, “That might’ve been a little much, but it’s true.”

“Well thanks, Eth,” you smiled, as he passed you his phone to control the music as he drove.

He stayed silent the rest of the way there. He was still a little embarrassed about being so forward with you, even though it was truly how he felt. But that’s what this little agreement has turned into. He can’t ever say exactly what’s on his mind or how he feels, because you told him he couldn’t catch feelings. The last thing he wanted was to ruin the friendship with how he felt.

Once you arrived at the venue, you rushed inside with Ethan. You knew you were cutting it close, showing up five minutes before the ceremony was scheduled to start. As you and Ethan sat down in the chairs beside your parents, you were happy that they wouldn’t have much time to grill him right off the bat.

“So, is this Ethan?” your mom asked, as he reached across you to shake her hand. “You look so handsome. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” he smiled, sitting back in his seat. She glanced over at you like she was about to say something.

“What?” you asked, and she motioned with her finger for you to move a little closer.

“He’s cute. How long have you been seeing him?” she asked, as you rolled your eyes.

“We’re just friends, mom,” you whispered, “Please don’t make this awkward.”

“There’s something else going on, I can tell by the way he looks at you,” she said, before the music started.

You scoffed as you sat back in your seat, knowing exactly how the night was going to go. Yeah, he looks at you differently than a normal friend would, because he regularly sees you naked. You started to feel bad for what Ethan was going to be subjected to at the reception.

Once the ceremony was over, you searched the seating chart to find out what table you’d be sitting at. You felt anxious once you found your table, and noticed that Ethan was sitting across from you, your dad beside him.

“Fuck,” you muttered, as your mom walked up beside you and Ethan.

“Watch your mouth,” she said, sitting down in her seat.

You sat down beside her as Ethan sat down across from you. Your dad soon joined the table, officially introducing himself to Ethan. As they talked, you were trying to listen to their conversation to make sure they weren’t talking about anything that might make him uncomfortable, until your mom started to talk to you.

“That ceremony was beautiful, wasn’t it?” she asked, as you nodded.

“Yeah, I was trying so hard not to cry. Their vows were so sweet.”

“They were,” your dad said, joining the conversation, before leaving it to talk to Ethan again. “So, what are your intentions with my daughter?”

“Dad!” you said loudly, “We’re just friends.”

“She’s quite the catch, though,” he said to Ethan as he gestured to you. Ethan started to blush, the conversation making him nervous.

“Seriously? Is this how the whole night is going to be?” you huffed, as Ethan smirked at you.

Your dad started to respond as your eyes stayed on Ethan, your heart starting to thump in your chest. After months of secretly hooking up, you had these signals you used. The smirk meant he wanted to get you alone as soon as possible.

“Are you listening?” your dad asked, trying to get your attention.

“Sorry.” Ethan was smiling at the flustered look on your face as your dad started to speak again.

“I was just saying that you need to put yourself out there. You never date,” he said, as you rolled your eyes.

“I’m focused on school. You know, the education that you’re paying for,” you sighed, exchanging another quick glance with Ethan.

“Just be sure to take time for yourself, too,” your mom said, as the bride and groom were about to share their first dance.

Your parents were distracted as they watched the newlyweds dance, while Ethan’s eyes bored into yours. He’d been trying to fight off the urge to touch you since you first got in the car. It was getting more and more difficult as he watched you get frustrated with your parents. He wanted to fuck that frustration out of you.

Once they were finished, the DJ invited everyone else out to the dance floor. You took the opportunity to snatch Ethan away before your parents could make things more awkward than they already had.

His hands went to your hips as yours went around his neck. The tension was so strong between the two of you as he looked into your eyes.

“I need you,” he said, the grip on your hips getting a little tighter. You softly gasped at the feeling.

“We can’t right now,” you said, glancing around you to make sure no one else was hearing the conversation.

“What if we could find somewhere to be alone? Or we could go to my car,” he said, his hands subtly rubbing your hips.

“My parents are watching. As much as I want to, we can’t.” You looked over, smiling at them.

Before Ethan could say anything else, they asked everyone to clear the floor for the wedding games. Ethan stood behind you in the crowd of people, his hands going to your hips as he pulled your ass against him, his hard cock straining against the material of his pants.

He leaned down to whisper in your ear as everyone else was distracted, “There’s a hallway over there. Want to see where it goes?”

 You looked over to your parents who were so focused on the funny interaction happening in the middle of the room between your cousin and her new husband. You knew if you were going to sneak away, this was your chance. You noticed the hallway Ethan was talking about a few feet away from you.

He was still leaning down waiting for your answer. “I’ll go first, I need you to wait a few minutes. I don’t want this to be obvious.”

You looked at him as he nodded, his bottom lip in between his teeth as you pulled away to explore the dimly lit hallway.

You didn’t have to go very far as you eased open the first door you saw, noticing that it must be one of the rooms the wedding party got ready in. There were several empty beer cans scattered around the room, so you assumed it must’ve been the groom’s area. You slipped inside and cracked the door, waiting for Ethan to walk down the hallway. You soon saw the tall, curly-haired boy, and opened the door far enough to pull him in.

His lips immediately connected with yours as he pushed the door shut with the hand that wasn’t on your hip and clicking the lock so no one else could come into the room.

“You have no idea how hard I’ve been,” he said as he pulled away, his eyes hooded and dark in lust. “You look so fucking hot in that dress.”

“And you look hot in this suit,” you said, grabbing his tie and pulling him to you so you could kiss him again.

He backed you over to the loveseat in the room, not breaking the kiss. When his lips trailed over your jaw and down your neck, he started to hike your dress up your legs. His hands roamed your smooth, newly exposed flesh before kneading at your thighs.

“Mmh, I need you, Ethan,” you whimpered, as his teeth grazed your neck. As bad as he wanted to mark you up, he knew there was no way to hide it.

“You want me to fuck your pretty little pussy?” he asked as you nodded, his hand brushing over your panties. He realized the effect he was having on you as his fingers ran over your clothed clit. “Fuck, you’re soaked.”

“I told you that you looked hot in that suit,” you whimpered out, his fingers moving faster as he rubbed them against you.

He pushed your panties to the side, his fingers not wasting any time to dip inside you. He watched your face as his fingers worked inside you, intentionally missing the spot he’s so familiar with. He noticed you were getting a little frustrated with the lack of attention where you needed it, the smirk on his face giving away that he was trying to tease you.

“Please, baby,” you whined, his smirk turning to a smile. He moved his fingers the way you needed him to, as he continued to watch you. During sex, you had a ‘no pet names’ agreement. You only called him Ethan or Eth, and he only called you by your name. His heart was swelling as you kept whimpering “Yes babe, right there.”

He leaned his head down as your dress was bunched at your hips, his tongue brushing against your clit. Your hips started to move against his hand as his licks got faster, chasing the release you needed. When he sucked your clit into his mouth, that was all it took as your pussy spasmed around his fingers, your moans flooding out of your mouth. Your chest was heaving as he kept fucking his fingers into you.

“Oh my god,” you finally let out as you came down from your high, and Ethan slid his fingers out. “What was with that teasing?”

“What was with you calling me baby?” he asked, your cheeks turning red as you stammered. “I didn’t mind it, though.”

“Oh, I uh, I guess I just couldn’t help it. It felt like the right thing to say,” you laughed a little, as Ethan eyed you curiously. “Let’s talk about this later. We don’t have much time.”

You leaned forward to the edge of the couch and unbuckled his belt as he stood in front of you. His cock was throbbing as your hand brushed over it, your lustful eyes connecting with his.

When you unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his thighs along with his boxers, he groaned at the free feeling. Your mouth went to his tip, placing gentle licks to get all the precum that was starting to drip out. You took him in your mouth, gagging a little to get to the good spit, your saliva starting to drip down his cock. His hand was about to go to your head when you pulled away and started to stroke him.

“Do you really think I’m beautiful?” you asked, your hand moving at a steady pace as he watched you. You couldn’t get his comment from earlier in the day out of your mind.

“Yeah,” he said, his answer making your hand move faster. “Oh fuck.”

“Do you think we could ever be more than friends who fuck?” you questioned, taking him in your mouth again before he could answer.

“Oh shit,” he groaned as you looked at him through your lashes, “I want that more than anything.”

You took him as far back in your mouth as you could, the gagging feeling around the tip of his cock making his orgasm build quickly. His hand went to your hair, his hips thrusting a little into your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum, baby,” he groaned out, the new nickname making you throb between your legs as his cum started to shoot down your throat. You sucked for a few more seconds, getting ever drop of his release out of him as he started to pull your head away.

You wiped your drool from your mouth and chin with the back of your hand, intently watching him.

“Give me a few minutes, I promise I’ll fuck you,” he laughed, looking down at his half-hard erection.

You took the free time to stand up and slide your panties down before stepping out of them. He watched you sit back down in the loveseat and spread your legs, his attention going to your dripping pussy. You didn’t want to overstimulate him to get him hard again, so you decided to put on a little show for him.

Two of your fingers started to rub against you, the feeling of the attention on your aching, needy clit making you gasp. You started to circle it as your whimpers got louder.

“This is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” he groaned, his cock getting harder as he watched you. When you slid your fingers inside of you and started to move them, he turned his attention from your pussy to your eyes. “You wish those fingers were mine?”

“Fuck,” you moaned out, “Yes baby, your fingers feel so amazing.”

“What about my cock? Do you wish I was pounding into you right now?” he asked, his words bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“Yes,” you mewled, as he grabbed the condom he kept from his wallet.

You started to pull your fingers out, desperate to feel him inside of you, before he stopped you, “You’re so close, baby. I want to see you get yourself off.”

Your fingers started to move faster as your legs started to shake, “That’s it, baby. Cum for me.”

He rolled the condom on as he watched you hit your peak, your mouth falling open as the beautiful sounds slipped past your lips. Your hand was shaking as you tried to finger yourself through the wave of euphoria, your arousal glistening on your fingers as they slid in and out.

 When you started to relax into the sofa and pull your fingers out, Ethan took your hand and sucked your release off your fingers.

“So fucking good,” he groaned out, looking at you. “Do you think you can cum one more time for me?”

“I think so,” you said, the exhaustion evident in your voice after the strong orgasm.

“It’s okay, I’ll do all the work,” he said, pulling you up by your hand and taking you to the side of the couch. He slid your dress back up around your hips as he bent you over the arm, your face pressing into the cushion as he lined up with your entrance. “We’ve been in here a long time, so I’ll need to be quick. If it’s too much, stop me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, a whimper slipping out as he slid inside you.

His pace picked up quickly, your ass jiggling as the sounds of slapping skin and your moans filled the room. He had your hips angled just right so the tip of his cock hit that spongy spot inside you with every thrust.

“You’re taking me so well, baby,” he said, his grip on your hips tightening. “Is this pussy mine?”

The previous conversation was giving him confidence that you felt the same way he did, and he wanted to hear you say that you were his so badly.

“Yes babe, it’s all yours,” you whimpered, his speed increasing. “It’s always been yours.”

He groaned at your words, close to cumming for the second time of the night. He knew you were close, too, as the pitch of your moans got higher. He was so thankful for the loud music hiding what was going on in the room, because the sounds of your moans and wetness were absolutely filthy as he brought you closer to your high.

He was trying to focus on other things as he kept his pace up, not wanting to cum before you. He started to feel your walls squeezing him, drawing him right back into the moment as you started to shake underneath him.

“I’m gonna,” was all you got out, your voice cracking from all the moaning as the feeling completely washed over you. You soon heard Ethan’s groaning get shaky and the grip on your hips get even tighter as his thrusts started to slow.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he said, looking over your tired, fucked-out body as it stayed bent over.

The handle on the door started to jiggle, the sound making you quickly stand up and search for your panties as Ethan slid his pants back up his hips and hook his belt.

“Where the fuck are my panties?” you asked, glancing around the floor. You were so dazed from the multiple orgasms that you couldn’t find them. Ethan tried to help you look, but it was too late as you heard a key slide into the keyhole. You straightened your dress back out and ran your hand through your hair to tame whatever might be going on with it.

When the door opened, you saw one of the groomsmen standing there.

“Sorry, one of his contacts is bothering him. I was trying to help him out,” you lied, as the man smiled and shook his head.

“I’m sure that’s what was going on. Are those yours?” he asked, pointing out your panties that were sticking out from under the couch. Your face was full of embarrassment and panic as you reached down to pick them up. “Hey, I’m not going to say anything. It’s none of my business.”

He grabbed a beer out of the mini fridge before walking back out to join the rest of the wedding guests, locking the door before he closed it behind him.

“Since when do I wear contacts?” he asked, laughing at the awkwardness of the interaction.

You slid your dress back up and put your panties on before looking at him. “It seemed like a good lie in the moment.”

“You think he’ll say anything?”

“He said he wouldn’t,” you sighed, “I really hope he doesn’t.”

He started to smile, “Your parents already think there’s something going on between us. That’s just something else you’d have to deny.”

“What if I feel like there is something going on between us? More than just a friendship, and more than just sex?” you asked, your eyes meeting his as he leaned in to kiss you.

“I feel the same. If you ever want to give me a chance, let me know,” he said, walking towards the door.

“Ethan, come back here,” you said, as he turned around. “You heard me, come here.” You laughed as scoffed at your demand, but ultimately did what you asked as he stood inches in front of you. “Let’s try this and see if it can work.”

He kissed you in response, lifting you off the floor a little as his hands wrapped around your waist.

“So, does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” he asked, a goofy grin on his face as he sat you back down.

“Yes, nerd,” you joked, taking his hand in yours. “Let’s get back out there. We’ve been gone for at least an hour.”

[oneknightstand-if]

Fencing Club Route is a Go!

Update 2: Chapter 1 Part 3 - Fencing Club Route

Don't feel like playing polo? Join the fencing club instead!

Play the Updated Beta Test

(Since there were bugs reported throughout Chapter 1 & 2, your current saves are probably going to reset to the beginning of each section of the game)

*If you're getting error messages or the fencing club route isn't showing up properly for you (after you refreshed and restarted the game), you'll need to clear your cache. More details found here.*

Additional Word Count (Sans Code): 120,000+ Additional Word Count (With Code): 155,000+ New Total Word Count (Sans Code): 614,000+ New Total Word Count (With Code): 833,000+ Average Playthrough: ~60,000 words

Note: You can view the game code on my site the same way you do on Dashingdon just add /scenes to the end of the URL.

Next Update

Merlin's Guide to Minor Enemies

A bucketload of owed texts & e-mails to the MC

Decisions of great import... just where are you sleeping in that motorhome?

A̴ ̴C̴o̶m̴p̷l̷e̵t̷e̴l̴y̵ ̶N̴o̷r̸m̴a̶l̵ ̵G̴a̴s̸ ̶S̵t̵a̷t̷i̶o̷n̸ ̵S̴t̸o̷p̷

Take part in your first multi-user spell! (Potentially depending on the length of the gas station stop?)

Meet the next Harbinger - RO #4 (Potentially depending on the length of the gas station stop?)

Link to New Polls on the Update (Which don't auto close in a week like the Tumblr ones)

Also...

I'm currently coming down with something (Covid test says not that, so maybe just the flu?) so I'll be taking a bit of a break after this.

More (Fiddly) Info on the Update Behind the Spoiler Cut...

The Update Also Includes...

Calmly letting Merlin into your apartment after escaping the monster-under-the-bed no longer removes the mute flag

Fixed Adrian literally calling the MC as "MC" in the pub

Fixed expresso back to espresso AGAIN *stares at it*

Fixed the phil_status 2 bug AGAIN (Somehow I must've reverted a bunch of bug fixes in Chapter 1)

Fixed bug where MC's name permanently changes to their pseudonym if the player tried to back out of the renaming screen

Fixed the "On second thought, let me try a different fake first name…" option so it only asks the player to change their fake first name (as originally intended)

Fixed some dialogue with Adrian depending upon your clothing choices in the polo club branch

Fixed the Adrian text messaging bug. Again. Hopefully third time is the charm.

Fixed bug where your current job being your dream employment wasn't triggering the positive job attitude flavor text

Fixed bug where the mute flag was being toggled off when interacting with Adrian regarding your fancy outfit before the polo club meeting

Choice where Lucid Dreamer MC talks to Modern Arthur about Merlin's dreamwalking advice is now set to toggle only when the MC speaks to Merlin in the Camelot dream sequence

Fixed bug with the user's input option for Business Casual outfit

User's choice option for Business Casual & Business Suit now toggles pants or skirt variable

Fixed bug with the Cracking text effect in darkmode

All piercings & scars now available in one choice during customization.

Fixed bug (AGAIN!) when Lucky MC fails the luck check to escape the bed monster

Added reactions to Camelot-affiliated names belonging to inanimate objects.

Fixed *set ag2 2 -1 bug in Camelot dream sequence (I wonder how that didn't trigger QuickTest)

A Bit More Info on the Update Mechanics

The decision on which club you join is one of the first questions in Chapter 1, so players will have to restart from pretty early on. However the fencing club flavor text will continue to run throughout the rest of the game (including in the Camelot dream sequence with the Courtyard branch for the Lucid Dreamer MC).

Otherwise this current update does not progress the game further into Chapter 2.

Also Part 2....

We lost power to part of the house (thankfully not including my computer), and while I'm usually the one who deals with the circuit breakers, since I'm currently sick I asked my mother to do it this one time. She turned the power off to the entire house. 🥲 The uninterruptible power source did nothing and now my computer and the microwave are bugging out. I'm just going to lie down now.

[herotome]

Devlog #142

Hi-ho, Wudge here.

Time to talk about these past two weeks worth of work. Haha... ah....... The good news is that there's quite a lot. The bad news is now I have to type it all out. 😭 The things I do for love (for Herotome) amiright.

Note to self I'm gonna have to carefully save drafts of post throughout because, again, it's A Lot.

Ok so, we'll start off with some Mia stuff.

Outfit concepts!! Some of yall may recall I struggled hardcore with her hero outfit, but I think it's finally getting somewhere?? After uh... I allowed myself to use black. :') I had it in my head that Dart is the only one who can wear black-- but how unfair is that?! There's a limited number of color families in the world, characters should be able to borrow colors from each other in accent colors! So, I'm much happier now that I've gotten over that mental hurdle.

On the right is a 'party'/gala outfit. I have a few events in mind where the LIs can dress up and look nice, so this is a concept for that...!

I also made a bunch of these... cut-out images, so highlight her injured hand in-game... ....... Then I realized I could literally just. Show her full sprite and pan it down. Then add a lil spotlight/vignette effect if I damb well want to. :| So uh. I'll be throwing all these out I guess....... It was a learning experience!!!!!! just a bit of a painful one hahaha.

Moving right along, expressions.

I got through a huge set of Griffin and made some new mouth shapes for Mia! Much to my dismay, Mia's lips are rather more detailed and thus take a bit more time to render..... but I'm getting the hang of it.

I also have been coding in these new expressions for the Mia and Warden scene in the federal center lobby.

Here's a preview! Maybe I can make a gif of a few branches to crosspost to Ko-Fi...

As for Griffin - I haven't started coding in any expressions yet, but I did set up all his PNGs and can show off the full set here:

The pictured tool is by Feniks - wonderful, wonderful way of seeing all the expressions at once and quickly converting a specific mood from image into code (which you can see in the lower rightmost corner). I highly recommend it for any renpy devs who are have an overwhelming surplus of character expressions!

And I experimented with a ghostly text effect (using altered code from Wattson's dripping effect). It's hard to read at the moment and I dont love it - in Herotome it will likely have a proper outline and I might use a special font. It's inspired by this one artist named Endling - back in my teenybopper deviantart days, he had this comic with a big bad wolf character who would talk like this--!

And of course, updated art of these fools (as seen in my last not-devlog last week)

I also wrote.. a decent amount... did a fair amount of outlining/plotting.... and Remnantation and I made progress on a new Griffin CG... I designed some other potential NPCs.......

...... You can tell I'm running out of steam for this devlog, I'm sure. I think that'll do it for now.

Stay safe and keep warm,

Wudge.

[a-aexotic]

hii i feel like john b doesn't get nearly enough fics and i <3 your writing so could i request a fic where he's having a rough day so he comes over and reader does her whole nighttime routine w him to help de-stress? 💗💗

ren's notes ! yes i totally agree, john b is so overhated for what

pairing. john b x fem!reader

warnings. literally nothing except fluff and ward being ward

➜ missing out on updates? ❪ navigation. masterlist. taglist. ❫

Today was not John B's day.

He woke up in a shitty mood and everything else just went along with that. He burnt his pancakes, he forgot to pay the water bill so he was stuck with cold water as a shower. He forgot to do laundry so he had to wear his dirty clothes. And the Camerons were being more asshole-ish than usual.

He just wanted to go home and eat, relaxing while watching a TV show. So why did Ward make him clean the yacht for the second time this week?

He texted you throughout working and you felt really bad. You wanted to do something that would cheer him up.

He heard a ding and pulled out his phone.

Y/N:) 💋☀️ oh, im sorry to hear that baby:/

Y/N:) 💋☀️ do u wanna come over and watch something?<3 maybe that'll help

Y/N:) 💋☀️ i love u jb:)

He smiled at your texts as he sent a quick text back, not wanting to hear another lecture about phones from Ward again.

JB 😎 No worries babe 😘💕 I love u too

JB 😎 That sounds like heaven 😫 Be there at 6 x

--

Work couldn't have even sooner for John B. He was so excited to go see you; he's felt like it's been weeks even though in reality, it's only been maybe a day. Today just felt so long but he knew that one kiss from you, and all that stress would go away.

He pulled up to your house and quickly got out. He was prepared to spend the entire night with you, sleeping in your arms so that all his stress would melt away.

He knocked at the door and your mother answered, letting him know you had just got down with your shower and that you were upstairs. She also reminded John B to knock before going in.

As he was told, he knocked before going in.

"Mom, I'll be down in a minute, let me finish my skincare."

"It's not mom, It's John B."

You quickly jumped out of your chair and ran to the door, opening it and embracing John B. He smiled at your enthusiasm.

"Oh, John B. I missed you."

He leaned into you, sighing in content. "Me, too, baby. Me, too."

"I was just going to finish my skincare and we can go get some popcorn and eat, okay?"

"Um, actually. I think after the day I've had, I need a mask."

You smiled at your boyfriend. Your glad your skincare is rubbing off on him because you wanted him to relax (you also didn't want him to age badly). "Of course, baby! Just uh, go take a quick shower and we can get started!"

He didn't even have the energy to be offended at your underlining comment so he just nodded and went into your bathroom, closing the door.

As he showered, you got the candy and popcorn ready. He got out and he sighed in relaxation. He then looked at the bowl next to your bed to find his favorite candy. "Ooo."

He took a handful before you came in with a huge grin on your face. "Okay, we have either a peach collagen mask or a vitamin d matcha mask."

He laughed immaturely at the mention of D. "Vitamin D, of course."

You rolled your eyes playfully as you put down the other mask, opening the vitamin d sheet mask. "Did you wash your face?" You asked before putting it on.

"Yes."

"With my CeraVe cleanser?"

He nodded and sighed as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. But if you asked him that a few months ago, he would've asked who CeraVe was and what a cleanser is. You're glad you've taught him well.

You smiled at that, nodding. "Good."

You put on the mask and John B felt his muscles relaxing from your soft touch, and the gentleness of the sheet mask on his face. "This feels so nice. I can't remember a time when I didn't use masks."

"Mhm, I bet your skin feels the same."

He sighed contently as you fully adjusted the mask to his face. You walked away towards your mini-fridge to get a Jade roller. You went back to John B and started massaging his face with it.

"Wow, this feels nice. Is how the rich feel?" John B commented as you laughed.

You kept massaging for a few minutes before stopping, making John B groan. You rolled your eyes.

"My arms hurt, John B, I can't do this until it dries."

He sighed and nodded, "Okay fine."

John B then went to go sit on your bed and turn on the TV as you put your mask on. John B then went to the bedside table and grabbed the popcorn, eating it happily.

You smiled at your boyfriend. You're glad that he feels better now. You got into the bed too, taking some of the popcorn and eating it.

"Okay, babe. It's your pick, what're we watching?"

"21 Jump Street."

You sighed. "... Again?"

"Oh shush, I know you love staring at Channing Tatum."

You rolled your eyes playfully, knowing it was true.

[clubdionysus]

[BAD DECISION #29] 'Daddy'

warnings: polaroid taking, titty compliments <3, teasing, 'daddy' but not seriously lol, busan invite!!! yaaaaay!!!

a/n: last update for 2nite cos next week will be busan hehe

wc: 8k

bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

A soft smile rests on your lips as you wake up; the heat of Jeongguk's body keeping you warm beneath your duvet. His arm is looped over your waist, and while there's nothing inherently romantic about it, you find yourself indulging in how lovely it feels. Safe. Snug. Stable.

He eventually stirs a little later than you, squeezing you closer while his legs stretch out a little bit, and nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. Groans.

"Morning," he says, voice gravelly, throat a little parched from the dry winter air. Your humidifier had run out of water in the night, but neither of you had been woken by the small beep that would have told you so.

Your hand drops to rest over his, and he doesn't really think much of it as he spreads his fingers for yours to sink between. It's nice, the way his body just sort of accepts yours in any capacity; the same way yours does for him. You wouldn't say you're holding hands (even if you are). Would just say you're connected. Fostering a feeling of togetherness (even if you aren't).

"Morning," you hum gently, voice also a little croaky.

Jeongguk always thinks you sound cute like this. Likes your morning voice.

You like his, too. It's a little deeper than usual. Breathy. It's just 'cause the air has dried out his throat overnight, and his vocal cords can't vibrate at their full capacity. There's logic to his lethargic-sounding voice, but you ignore it all, 'cause you like the excuse of him just being sexy.

And yet despite the attraction that comes with a husky voice, the overwhelming adoration that irritates your heart as it bubbles through your veins comes in the form of intimacy.

Jeongguk's voice sounds like this because he slept in your bed.

He sounds like this, because he feels safe enough around you to let down any and all guards.

Sure, you're no longer hunter gathers from prehistoric times, and sleeping doesn't hold the same weight as it would have done for your ancestors. There are locks on your doors in one of the safest nations in the world. To sleep doesn't mean to risk death - and yet the cautionary tales of humanity run within your veins. You're only alive because one night, thousands of years ago, someone stayed awake throughout the night to ensure their family's safety.

Falling asleep together? Well, it only confirms one thing: you're a safety zone for one another.

Or maybe not. Guess you'll never truly know.

It's all very sickening, how sweetly you think of one another. Would never admit to it. Both as bad as one another in that regard. Made for one another, some may say.

"You stayed," you say, as if Jeongguk would ever leave.

"You know I always stay," he mumbles. He's been in your bed enough times for you to know this. Why you'd ever think he'd do otherwise is beyond him. "Plus I like your shampoo. Wanna use it."

His sleepy eyes are still shut. He's only entertaining this conversation 'cause he enjoys entertaining you.

"Show up without warning, claim my bed as your own, and now you're after a shower, too?" You affectionately scold him. He squeezes you a little tighter.

"What's mine is yours, remember?" he says, echoing a statement from the night before, lips brushing against your neck so subtly that you wonder if he even realises.

He does.

"We're not married," you tell him, to which he just shrugs. Holds you even tighter, still.

"We could be."

"Would you make me sign a prenup?"

"No."

"Okay," you airily agree. It's all facetious, and carries no weight. Is just fun to joke about from time to time. Something you've done for a while, now. Will always pretend like it repulses you. "We can get married. I'll rinse you in the divorce, though."

He pouts against your skin. Huffs. "That's not fair, B."

He'd never do that to you.

"Then don't marry me," you tease, as if it's even an option. "Problem solved."

Jeongguk doesn't like this scenario.

Also doesn't like that he's started joking about marriage, 'cause he knows it's only because his brain is doing that stupid little thing it likes to do whenever he has a crush.

See, Jeongguk is bad at the whole casual thing. Made a marriage pact with Hayun before he'd even fucked her. Fancied a friend in high school and ended up studying the same optional classes as her 'cause she told him that he should. It's why he was late applying for uni. Didn't have the right set of subjects studied to be accepted onto his course, so had to take a couple extra exams.

So now he's joking with you about getting married, 'cause he's accidentally thought about it a couple of times, and doesn't wanna be the only one of you thinking about it.

It's not like they were big dreams - just little daydreams, small snippets of a 'what if' . You hardly even feature in the daydreams. Apart from that one where he imagined you both walking into a reception room after the nuptials to a crowd of your friends cheering - but, like, everyone has silly little thoughts like that! Or at least, that's what he likes to tell himself.

He's been speaking with Yoongi a lot lately about wedding plans. Decides that's what's corrupted him. He's still young. Still single. He's not ready for any of that. Not in the slightest.

"Wouldn't wanna marry you anyways," he says. "You're so not my type."

"Gguk," you deadpan. "I can feel your boner digging into my ass."

It's not a lie. It's also not because of you, you know this. Know that morning is a particularly... hard time for him.

"It's morning," he pouts. "Not my fault. I'd get a boner even if I was hugging... I don't know. A pillow. Or Jimin."

"You'd get a boner for Jimin? Does mean a threesome-"

"No," he mumbles quickly, his sleepy voice making him sound so sweet and tepid, despite the burning heat beneath his ribs. "Shush, baby. No threesome."

Baby .

A term of endearment reserved for only the most intimate of endeavours, Jeongguk has never called you it outside of sex. He knows this. You know this.

Neither of you mention it.

You simply just pretend like he never said it; like your heart isn't beating so fast you're scared it might stop.

The rule of no pet names was put in place by you; ignored by him.

Disco Ball? Fine. Whatever.

Byeol? Excusable.

B? Well, it kinda makes sense.

But baby ? God, it gets you all sorts of fucked up.

You're able to ignore the way it makes you feel, usually. Too distracted by his lips, or the need to keep yourself from coming undone. Like this, when you're being kept warm by his body, but his touches are as innocent as his voice is sleepy, it's different.

For the first time in a long time, you feel a little bit scared. He's so good with your fears, but they still exist. You've just been holding a pillow over your eyes for a few months.

The pillow is gone now; just you, him, and the cinematic-scale fears your harbour in your heart.

"A threesome would be good for you," you say, not really believing it. "You're wasted on just one girl."

He squeezes you a little tighter, for the billionth time within a fifteen-minute window. "No, I'm not."

It's lovely to indulge in such a declaration.

It means nothing, in the grand schemes of things - just that Jeongguk thinks you're worthy of his body - and yet it feels a little weightier than it really should do. It's almost as if there are rocks tied to his words, but they're disguised in pretty satin scarves, wrapped up and hidden away, only felt when they get tied to you and drag you down. Head in the clouds, feet on the ground typa shit. The kinda feeling that makes you wanna write poetry, but you haven't written anything of any substance since Seokjin.

There's a quiet sadness to the way that your broken heart always seems to spill onto pages of notebooks, but the things you really want to shout about? The things that make you smile? They never make it onto the pages of your journals.

You keep these feelings all bottled up. Wax sealed. A daisy dried into the imprint. Just for you. Yours, all yours. No one can steal them that way. They're safe.

Like you are right now; Jeongguk holding you in such a way that lets you know you'll never be truly alone, as long as he's in your life.

You're grateful.

And it terrifies you.

You know that Jeongguk is withholding something that will only hurt you.

Have done since he showed up at your place after the last Dionysus night.

Should you rip it like a band-aid, or apply pressure to stop the bleeding? It's not a choice you wanna have to make.

Yet you know you need to.

Quietly, you muster up your courage. Untangle your fingers from his. Remain in your little spoon position, but busy your hands with picking off flakes of glitter from your forearm.

"You gonna tell me what happened?" you ask, a little apprehensive of the answer you could get.

Jeongguk's grip on you doesn't ease. He keeps you close, for fear of you wanting to leave. He won't stop you, if you do, but he wants you to know that he wouldn't like that. Wants you close, even if his past actions might push you away.

He sighs. Inhales. Loves the scent of your shampoo. Your sheets. You . Your smell , his brain corrects. Loves the way you smell. Not you. God no. Fuck. No. Not at all-

"Hm?" You encourage a response, knowing that Jeongguk is probably letting his thoughts get away from him.

When things get intimate, Jeongguk's thoughts tend to go awry. He voices the most unhinged shit he thinks of, just because he can. Says stuff he'd never dream of saying otherwise.

Contrarily, in moments of vulnerability (though his thoughts are very much still awry) he stays silent. It's a curious contradiction, but one you've grown used to. You don't mind it. Understand it. Understand him.

Eventually, he speaks up. "You really wanna know?"

Sitting, you twist your body to face his. Back against your bedroom wall, you pull your legs up to your chest. "Mhhm."

Your body language says 'absolutely not', and Jeongguk knows this. Sits up too. Lets your duvet pool around his impossibly slim waist, abs on show, and the freckle on his ribs that you adore so much says 'hello'. A teeny tiny tummy roll (thanks to how awfully he's been eating during exam season) reminds you that he's still human. Still lovely, regardless. Lovely, and warm, and a little forlorn in his gaze.

It doesn't linger on you. Drops to his fingers, which twiddle in his lap. He shakes his head, hair waving ever so delicately around his pretty features. His lips part. Words try to come out. Silence prevails.

"I already know," you say quietly, to which his eyes find you again. You're looking down, now. He hates this. Hates that it's his actions that have caused it. "I mean, I don't know know. I just know something happened with Hayun."

"How?" he asks quietly. He's not rude, nor confrontational. Just curious.

You shrug. "Intuition?"

Got a shit-bag ex who taught me all the warning signs, your brain corrects you.

He seems to accept this answer, so you don't elaborate.

He's quite forthcoming, when he admits to the truth. States it plainly, just like he did with Jimin.

"She kissed me."

"When?" You ask, wanting a timeline. Thinks it might help you understand his thought process if you know the steps that led him to your apartment that night. "Where?"

He battles with his mind for a moment, but his heart wins. Honesty is owed.

"Um, like, outside. The courtyard area-"

"New years," you say quietly, not to interrupt, just to connect dots in your own head. It's embarrassing, the way shame drowns you out. It's like you're spluttering for air, but in reality, you're stoic. Not moving a muscle.

"New years," he echoes. Hates this.Wishes the conversation would just stop. Knows it can't. "We were talking and-"

"I don't need the ins and outs," you interrupt, suddenly changing your mind.

Now that he's giving you specifics, it's just making you feel worse.

That's the most confusing part, you think. You've been feeling fine about things - and yet now, seeing his guilt? Makes you feel like maybe you should feel awful, too.

Jeongguk looks down. Purses his lips. "I know. I just don't want you getting the wrong impression."

"My impression is that you kissed Hayun and then came and fucked me," you sigh, bitterly disappointed. It's exactly what you've been assuming ever since that night, but the confirmation still stings.

"No, see, that is the wrong impression, B," Jeongguk stresses. You're so casual and flippant about things, but Jeongguk knows it was anything but. "It wasn't as linear as that. I know it sounds shitty-"

"It does."

"-But it really wasn't like that at all."

It doesn't matter.

You feel like a cheap consolation prize, regardless. Sort of like Jeongguk only came to you because Hayun decided she didn't want him after all.

It's stupid really. Your pride is getting in the way of things. Your disdain for Hayun? Even more so.

If he explained the what, the when, the why, the who, the how, you'd know that Jeongguk really didn't mean to make so many bad decisions. The only good decision that night, he thinks, was coming to see you - but even that, he managed to fuck right up.

The thing that pushed Jeongguk to leave Dionysus that night?

Wasn't Hayun. Wasn't Danbi rightfully giving him a piece of her mind. Wasn't any of that.

It was a choice that he had made earlier in the night.

Sick of his eyes searching for you in the crowd and always drawing blanks, Jeongguk had gone searching for you. Yeonjun had no clue where you were at this point, and had suggested maybe you'd already left.

You hadn't. Were just in the girls bathroom with Danbi, and some college girls who were in awe of the glitter (so naturally, you were turning them into glitter girlies too, free of charge).

Nonethewiser, Jeongguk tried his luck dipping from the club and heading to the next street over to where the arcade was. Less than a minute walk. Again, you were nowhere to be found - but the machine you had been at was currently free of punters.

Sure, maybe he spent a little too long trying to win the My Melody plushie, but he was drunk , and it felt important . He almost gave up after he got the Cinnamoroll, but couldn't. Had convictions. Was determined. Was gonna get your stupid, adorable plushie no matter what.

And he did.

Of course he did.

He's Jeongguk. There's nothing he can't do, when his heart's really in it.

Looked for you upon his return. Didn't realise you were still in the bathrooms, this time consoling a girl who had just seen her boyfriend kissing one of her friends. Classic, really. A little liquor and so many men seem to think that cheating is okay. Will cry about it being a mistake, but you know damn well the mistake is getting caught in the act, not the act itself.

His final port of call had been the staff room. Tossed the plushie down on the sofa. Sighed. Lamented the way things had changed since you'd last been together in Dionysus. Knew it was all his fault. Wondered if it was really worth it.

If Hayun was worth it.

He knows the answer, now. Had to experience it to really be sure, but he already knew. Deep down, he always has done.

But she'd entered the staff room when he was all sad and doe-eyed over you, and convinced herself that maybe it was her making him feel this way. Invited him to get some air. He'd needed a friend. Had lied to himself so well about the nature of the relationship that she was only ever a friend, he had seemed to think maybe she was. Maybe it'd be good to talk with her.

Lessons have been learned. Mistakes made. Decisions done.

"Should have told you first, I know," he says quietly, eyes on his hands. Looks up at you. Wishes you would look at him. "I'm sorry, Byeol. I'm sorry, and if I could re-do the events of that night, I would - butI I can't, so. This is where we're at. Fucked up, then I fucked you. Kinda poetic, in a way."

You snort out a disapproving laugh. "Yeah, if you were a teenager on tumblr in 2014."

"Not even gonna pretend to know what that is," he says, genuinely clueless to what a tumblr is, and why 2014 is relevant. "But B, we both know I didn't come here that night with the intention of fucking you, I never... Look, I'm sorry that I let it happen. All I can do is promise you that it won't happen again."

Men have promised they'd move mountains for you before. You'll believe it when you see it.

"What won't happen again?" you ask, a little petulantly. "You fucking me, or you kissing Hayun?"

Being childish right now will do no one any favours.

Will make you feel vindicated for a split second, mind you.

"Well..." Jeongguk begins, but stops himself from finishing.

He means Hayun.

Is done with it. Done with her.

Hates what's become of your friendship since her return. The loss of your closeness aches more than the residual pining feelings for her have ached in the last year. The way he once felt about her is not representative of who he is now.

"Well?"

"Well, kissing is intimate," Jeongguk says with a curt sense of authority. He's speaking your opinions as if they're universal truths.

"It is," you agree.

"I don't really think it's appropriate to be intimate with a girl my best friend hates."

"Hate is a strong word," you say, hiding a smile.

"I think it's just the right strength, here."

You know what Jeongguk is saying. He's speaking in tongues, but you're well acquainted with his. It's easy to decipher.

Yet you're an insolent little brat when you want to be, and so you twist his words. Not to be malicious, just to get confirmation.

"Hayun told me she was your best friend," you tell him. "And I'm pretty sure she hates me, so... you're saying we shouldn't kiss?"

"You rarely ever let me kiss you anyways, B," Jeongguk reminds you with a fond smile. Thinks he'd settle with never kissing you again if it meant he still got to banter with you. "But no, you idiot. Hayun says a lot of shit. You shouldn't listen to her. You're my best friend."

He's heard it with his own ears. Had always shrugged her mean comments off. Hasn't been able to shake the way he heard her speak about you. Tried, for a while. Just ended up making him feel like a shitty friend.

You deserve people in your corner. If Danbi was acting like besties with someone who had been cruel about you, he'd be pissed off. Thinks she had every right to criticise him in the way she had on that evening.

Despite being at his little party last night, Danbi had barely spoken to him.

Had looked at his neck. Raised her brows. Asked, "Well, are you being nice to her? I sure hope you are. And I sure hope those are from her, otherwise you're in for a world of pain, my friend," and then walked away before Jeongguk could even reply.

Danbi scares him.

Is pretty sure she scares Tae, too, but he seems to get off on that. To each their own, and all that.

"B, I don't wanna fight with you," he says, holding out his hand.

For reasons you can't, or simply won't, explain, you accept it. Toy with his fingers as your hands rest on top of your duvet. Trace his knuckles. Admire his tattoos. Relish in the serenity of him.

"Don't wanna fight, either," you sigh. Glance up at him, only to realise he's looking at you with such crestfallen need for forgiveness that it feels like the only thing you can do. "And, hey, maybe it was good. Me being mad at you gave me a little push in the right direction."

"Oh?" Jeongguk questions. His skin feels all hot. Prickly. He doesn't like it. "How so?"

You think nothing of it as you admit to the date you had last night. Jeongguk asks for his name. Nods when you tell him it. Asks for specifics. His career path - "sounds boring" ; his hobbies - "meh" ; his charms - "I have a dimple, too. See? Look, and I get dimples when I smile like this, too!"

As you're explaining the night before, Jeongguk is hunting for one of his shirts amongst your clothes. Says he wants to get a drink from the convenience store.

In reality, he just doesn't wanna have to look you in the eyes, just in case they sparkle for Seojoon.

"You're too competitive for your own good, Gguk," you laugh. "I'm not gonna ditch you for another guy. Unlike some of us , I'll keep my best friend around even if I do fall disastrously in love."

"Okay, one - I kept you around!" He protests, rummaging through the clothes on your desk chair for one of his shirts. There's definitely one in the pile. You're sure of it. "Two - who said anything about love ? I wasn't! Are you going to be in love?!"

Jeongguk can never really hide his emotions. He tries. Really hard. Always fails. His competitive edge is showing now in a way that it never has done before. He really is feeling threatened by Seojoon.

He's stupid, you think. You're not gonna ditch him. Would miss him too much.

Sure, you'll need to iron out the nature of your sleepovers, but that'll just be a small change - and fuck ! You've only been on one date. Hardly falling in love, are you?

"No!" You laugh. "Christ, Gguk. It's only been one date."

"But there's gonna be more?" He asks, still rummaging. Has already found a shirt. Just doesn't wanna face you right now. "You're gonna see him again?"

"Well maybe," you admit. "I don't know yet. He hasn't asked."

Jeongguk pretends like he isn't satisfied with that answer.

Again, he fails to compel this narrative. The little hum he chirps gives him away.

But then he's thinking about the reason you went on that stupid date in the first place, and wants to explain himself again. Really wants you to know how shitty he feels about it.

"About the Hayun stuff," Jeongguk begins, glancing over to you, but you just shake your head.

"Why waste your time explaining it away?" You ask with a small shrug and eyes so sincere Jeongguk thinks you could end world wars. Eyes he thinks he'd go to war for .

Silly thoughts, for a silly boy, who's engaging in silly conversations that makes his heart feel anything but silly.

It feels serious. Stern. Secure in his understanding of his feelings, but too scared to do anything about them. Especially now.

"I don't love your choices," you continue, not trying to be critical, but wanting him to understand why you aren't lingering on the situation. "But we learn from our bad decisions, no? We make mistakes so that in future we can make things right."

"It doesn't mean I shouldn't feel bad about it," he says quietly, eyes down.

"Well, what will beating yourself up about it do? Will just make you feel crappy - and like, don't get me wrong, I think you deserve to feel shitty for fucking me without telling me-"

"I do."

"But I'm not hung up on it," you stress. Really, you're not. "You feeling bad about it will make me feel like I should feel bad about it."

If Jeongguk was elated about his choices, enthusing about Hayun, then yes - you'd feel awful.

Thing is, his distress is written all over his pouty little face. There's nothing about even kissing her that he seems to enjoy. Not anymore.

Or at least, even if he liked it in the moment, the aftermath seems to have catapulted him into a near-permanent state of disgust. That's enough to make you feel alright about things.

"Okay," you sigh when you see his frown hasn't eased up. "Tell me one thing: do you still want her?"

The way Jeongguk recoils with a crease between his brows almost instantly says it all.

"Christ, B. No. Obviously not"

Cherry on top.

"Well, I mean she can have you," you tease, pleased to be smiling through such a conversation. Progress has been made.

"I don't want her," he insists, and it really does boost your ego.

"Should have thought about that then, shouldn't you?" You smirk with a raised brow.

Jeongguk throws his shirt at you. Whines. "Cut me some slack, B. I said I'm sorry."

The conversation dissolves into nothingness - Jeongguk asking you what you want from the shop, and you asking him what he wants to watch on Netflix when he gets back. Will only be gone for a few minutes, but it'll give you a chance to breathe and process the morning's revelations.

He slips on a pair of your jeans - mom cut, and shrugs when he looks in the mirror. Thinks they don't look too bad. A bit baggy, and loose on his hips thanks to your curves, but nothing that a belt can't solve. For a quick run to the shop? They're fine. Will do the job. Saves him from wearing sweats again, and given his near-constant state of boner this morning, sweats are not a wise idea.

The waistband of his Calvins peek out from the top of the jeans, framing his hips like they're a work of art deserving a place in the Louvre.

You sort of think they are. Think he's got a body that deserves to be admired. Worshipped. Appreciated. Know that you're more than capable of doing all of those things.

"Take a picture," he smirks, when he catches you looking.

You're unashamed.

Sure, your cheeks blush a little bit, but you just keep drinking in the sight of him. So often his body is shrouded in darkness when your hands are running over it - but you can see him, now. See the ridges of his abs, and the way they move ever so gently as he exerts a little energy.

Nodding towards the shelf just behind him, where your old polaroid sits prettily amongst some other tat, you smirk right back. "Gimmie it and I will."

You expect shyness - and get shyness, Jeongguk's smile a little scrunched as a soft giggle escapes his lips - but you don't expect for him to actually reach over for it.

"How do you work this thi- oh!" He exclaims as he presses down on the button that extends the lens.

It's not a proper polaroid, just an old instax that has seen better days, but it does the job well enough for you not to trade it in.

Honestly, you rarely use it these days. Maybe once a year, if you're lucky. You've no idea if it has any film in it - but as Jeongguk points it towards you, not bothering to adjust the exposure settings ('cause he doesn't realise it's needed) and presses down on the shutter button, it's confirmed that there is, indeed, still film in it.

"Oh, shit," he laughs, as if he wasn't the one who very deliberately took a photo.

He's not that stupid. He knows how cameras work. The mechanical whir as the photograph pushes itself out of the slot is nostalgic; a reminder of times that were simple.

He shakes the polaroid a little as he passes the camera over to you, looking at the empty photograph with a small pout.

"Takes a couple of minutes," you explain. "Put it on my desk, let it develop."

He does as he's told, believing you without hesitation. You've honestly no idea what you're supposed to do while they process.

Shake it - no! Don't shake it. Keep it out of the light. No! Give it light! No put it in the light for a minute only.

Everything you've ever been told about polaroids has been contradictory, and you enjoy the chaos too much to actually figure things out.

Holding the polaroid camera to your eye, you're smiling as Jeongguk decides to pose like an absolute tool. Muscles tensed, arms up in swan position, he looks like he's trying to compete for a place in Men's Health magazine.

"You're so stupid," you murmur affectionately.

"Stupid hot ," he corrects.

"Mmm," you hum as you press down on the shutter button, a flash lighting up your room. "Like a real-life Calvin Klein model."

He pings the top of his briefs against his skin with a teasing wiggle of his brows.

"Careful, or you'll speak it into existence," he assures you. "And then everyone will want me."

"So?" You laugh. "Am I supposed to feel threatened?"

Jeongguk's met many girls in his lifetime. Watched many on screen, and seen just as many in magazines. Gorgeous women. Beautiful women. The kind of women he'd be lucky to have - and yet, if were to be honest about his feelings for once in his damn life, he'd say 'no' .

No Hollywood star could ever compare to his star.

Instead, he deflects.

"Threatened? Huh," he smirks. Shakes his head to the side, like a dog with an itch. He's quite puppy-like, when you think about it. All doe-eyed and charming. Exquisitely cuddly and notoriously boisterous. Cute - and yet that smirk of his? The toned muscles of his chest? Sin . "You jealous?"

Scoffing, you roll your eyes. "I'm not the jealous type."

Jeongguk presses his lips together, still smiling. Nods. Eyes sparkling, his tongue toys with his lip ring a little, the freckle beneath his bottom lip on full display.

Shakes his head. "I think that's a lie."

Oh, how insufferably right he is - but you're not gonna give him the satisfaction, even if you're both well aware of it.

"I've never been jealous in my life," you say with a small giggle as Jeongguk prowls towards the bed. You lift the polaroid to your eye, and press down on the shutter button once more.

He doesn't imagine it's a great angle.

He's wrong.

"No?" He flirts, taking the camera from your hands as he gets himself between your legs.

He's sitting on his knees, with his thighs hooked beneath your legs. The hand that isn't holding your camera - the tattooed one - pushes the shirt you're wearing up a little. Reveals your underwear, and the bottom of your cute little tummy. There's a softness to you that he likes. Gets him hard .

"Shame," he shrugs. "I get jealous."

"I could tell," you assure him, as if your heart isn't beating a mile a minute. Something about Jeongguk like this - half-dressed, Calvins, body on show just for you - really gets you all hot and bothered.

The tips of his fingers stroke your skin, until they meet the top of your lace underwear. His thumb dips. Presses down on your clit, the thin piece of material the only obstruction.

You gasp, because of course you do, and Jeongguk feels vindicated. Thinks he'll never need to be jealous, 'cause no one is ever gonna make you feel like he does. Knows that he'll try his goddamn hardest to keep things as they are right now, 'cause he's had a taste of what it could feel like to lose you.

He doesn't want that - and yet he feels the need to preserve things as they are, just in case. Knows that Seojoon exists, and doesn't like the prospect of what that could mean for the future.

He raises the camera to his eye. Looks down at you.

"Chess?" He asks, giving you the option of an 'out' that only the two of you understand.

"You finally gonna teach me how to play?" You banter back, knowing that he wasn't asking you to play. He's checking consent before he presses on the shutter button.

It will produce just a single image. One for you to keep; proof that once upon a time, Jeon Jeongguk had touched you so indecently angels would weep. The sins you commit with him feel like heaven on earth, so how could they blame you? You're sure when you reach the pearly gates, they'll understand - though heaven wouldn't really be worth it, you think. Not when you've already experienced Nirvana with him.

"Not if you don't want me to," he says, his intentions thinly veiled as he lowers the camera to look at you.

There's innocence in his dark eyes; an elixir you just want to bottle up to preserve for a rainy day. His thumb is still pressed against your most intimate of areas, languid in its subtle movements, just to remind he's there. Willing. Wanting. Waiting.

"So chess, or no chess?"

He's too far away for your hands to reach him properly, so you simply tap beneath his hand to encourage the camera further up, indicating that he should realign it with his sight.

"No chess."

Slow as he makes sure he's got the perfect angle, Jeongguk presses deeper against you. Has you humming in anticipation of more substantial touches.

The camera flashes, a mechanical buzz accompanying your bated breaths. He can't have captured much, you think, knowing the camera well. Will likely just be his hand, probably, and the part of you it was taking ownership of.

The photo begins to slide out of the slot at the top of the camera, but Jeongguk's hands are full. He nips the edge with his teeth. Pulls it out. Keeps it there. Realigns the camera. Lets go of your pussy to push your shirt up your stomach.

"Up," he instructs, teeth gritted thanks to the polaroid, letting you take over the removal of your shirt. Your body is bare, save for the pair of underwear he's been toying with, your chest now his to play with - but he doesn't. Not really. Just holds one of your tits in his firm grip. Tells you to hold the other one. You comply. The camera flashes again.

He spits the polaroid between his teeth to the side. It's developing now. He doesn't dare look at it. Another, arguably worse one is printing out anyways. Again, his teeth nip at the edge and pull it out.

"You'll use all the film," you say softly, a fondness to the way you're scolding him. He discards the polaroid between his teeth, a smile on his pretty lips.

"I'll buy you more," he says as his hand strokes up your chest and sinks to where your bird should be. "Still missing a necklace."

Oh, on the contrary, you think.

"Shame."

Camera still by his eye, Jeongguk lines up the perfect shot: the top of your chest, collarbones sparkling in your bedroom light, his hand wrapped around the base of your throat. Careful not to include your face, he thinks it's a shame. Would have quite liked your pouty lips as part of the picture, too.

He squeezes his hand as the camera flashes.

Pulling the polaroid out with his fingers this time, he shakes it gently. Finds the other photos scattered around your body and tosses them in a neat pile beside your bed.

"Gimmie," you say, scrunching your hands out in a bid to retrieve the camera. There's no protest. He sort of wants you to take pictures of him, too.

Wants evidence that you once wanted him as badly as he seems to want you.

"Where do you want me?" He asks, a little shy now the camera is back on him.

Aligning focus, you hold out your hand, and let the tips of your fingers trail down the ridges of his torso. Jeongguk glances down to watch your hand, so focused on your dainty touches that he barely even notices the flash going off.

"Only two shots left," you say quite contently as you perch the camera on your bedside table, the polaroid still printing. You'll check it later. "Should save them for something important."

He raises a brow. Looks genuinely confused. "Your tits are important."

With a laugh, you shake your head, hair tangling against your pillow. Cupping your tits for a little support (and warmth) you simply say, "not if you're an ass guy."

Jeongguk's whole entire face scrunches up, to the point where his lip ring does the thing, but you can't focus on it. He looks too cute. Stroking the tops of your thighs adoringly, Jeongguk sighs.

"Look, I'm not saying I'm not an ass guy anymore, but, like - shit , B."

He reaches up to rest his hands over yours, but you slide yours out so that his are making direct contact with your tits. Putting your hands back on top of his, you encourage him to squeeze them, which earns you a whine from his prettily pouted lips.

"Love your tits. Absolutely corrupted me, they have."

"I know," you say smugly. "You're welcome."

"I'm not thanking you," he laughs, rolling your nipples between his fingers. The arching of your back gets his cock throbbing. You're so easy to work up. So is he, though. "Ruined me."

He loves your laugh, but loves it catching in your throat as he spanks the soft flesh of your chest even more so.

He doesn't let the sting linger; soothes your skin immediately. Mutters to himself, with a shake of his head. "Absolutely ruined."

"Careful," you tease. "Or I'll start thinking you're a tit guy."

"I'll eat your ass just to prove I'm not," he banters back - but then you twist beneath him. Get on your front. Ass up for him, just how he likes.

"Alright, then," you challenge.

"B," he husks, gripping onto your ass with one hand and stroking down your arched back with the other. Poised so that you can see the mirror across the room, there's something sordid about watching Jeongguk like this.

Desire becomes him. There's nothing about his mind, body nor soul that doesn't want you in this moment, and it's written all over his skin. He has to have you. Will simply die if he can't.

"Yeah?" You reply sweetly, and he just knows you're gonna be in one of those moods - a mood he loves, but a mood he knows is no good for the way you make his heart beat these days.

"Behave yourself," he husks. "We both know we shouldn't."

It hasn't been discussed, but he's got a point. You know you should be practising a little more self-restraint.

"I won't tell if you don't."

His grip gets tighter. Jiggles your soft flesh a little. Gets him gritting his teeth. Cursing.

Your body jolts forward as he spanks you, just once. It's so satisfying.

"Shouldn't play with your food before you eat it," you smirk, knowing just the way to wind him up.

Yeah, Jeongguk thinks to himself. You're definitely one of those moods.

It's the bratty type. The 'wind him up just because it's fun' type - but two can play at that game.

"Want me to eat it, huh?" He husks.

"Mhmm," you whine a little as he massages your skin.

His hands are strong, but his determination to not let your brattiness win? Oh, even more so.

"God, you're filthy for me, aren't you baby?" He husks. Knows how much baby gets you. Uses it deliberately.

"Mhmm," is all you can whine in anticipation of something, anything, to relieve the ache in your pussy. Have been horny all week, but unable to act upon it without thinking about him - and you were mad at him. Didn't wanna be thinking about him at all, let alone as you came.

"My pretty little slut, aren't you?" He praises, fingers toying with your lace underwear. The slickness of your pussy seeps through the fabric. Gets him all wet and dirty, just how he likes it. "Cunt just begging to be fucked, but it's your ass you want eaten."

"Koo," you whine .

He's rarely ever mean in bed, but it always gets you even hornier than usual when he is. It's the juxtaposition, you think. A man as kind and charming as Jeongguk should not be as unhinged as you know he truly is.

"What have I told you about calling me that?" He laughs. "Don't fuckin' do it."

It's not that he doesn't like it. In fact, it's quite the opposite. He likes it too much.

"Why not?" You ask, because again, it's one of those moods - so Jeongguk decides that if you wanna fuck with him, he's gonna fuck with you instead.

"'Cause you're gonna address me properly, aren't you, baby?" He says, thankful you aren't looking at him, 'cause a smile is tugging at his lips.

He's got a plan. Doesn't know if you'll play along. Hopes you will. Knows that there's no way you'll fuck him if it goes right - and that's sort of what he's hoping for. The pair of you simply have no self-control, so he's trying to create some.

"What am I gonna call you?" You whine as he rubs over your panties with his long fingers.

"What do you think, baby?" he teases. "Use that pretty little head of yours, baby girl."

God. You're gonna die.

"Koo," you whine, because of course you do. There's only one name that compliments baby girl - and you don't wanna say it.

What you do want? Right now? Is for Jeongguk to fuck you so hard it makes you booking the entire day off worth it.

"Uh, uh, baby," he says as he holds your cunt. Absolutely takes ownership of it. Gets you all whimpery and whiney - and when he starts being nice? Oh, fuck . You're done for. Death imminent. "Use that pretty, perfect brain of yours. You're so smart, aren't you? You know what to call me."

Jeongguk would be lying if he said his cock wasn't throbbing. Your mom jeans - the ones that were baggy - appear tight now, thanks to his hardness.

You take a second. Assess how much dignity you stand to lose from 'addressing him properly', and decide you're too horny to care.

"You think I'm smart, Daddy?"

Glorious , Jeongguk thinks. Not the name. Just that he managed to get you to say it, and mean it. His power knows no bounds. This is fucking fantastic .

"There you go, baby girl," he praises, pushing your panties to the side so that he can get a good look at just how messy you are. He thinks he'll die almost immediately. "So smart. You like being smart for me, don't you?"

You can't believe you're gonna say it again. And yet -

"Yes, Daddy," you nod into your pillows, 'cause the anticipation of Jeongguk doing something - anything - to your pussy right now is simply too much.

" Too smart, almost. I'm gonna have to fuck you so hard you can't think straight," he tells you. Smirks to himself. His breathy laugh echoes around the room. "Gonna be a dumb slut on my cock, aren't you?"

"Fuck," you moan, not willing to subject yourself to another 'daddy' - but Jeongguk pushes his luck.

"Who?" he insists. "Who you gonna be fucking?"

You roll your eyes, not that he can see it. Can't believe you're doing this. Can't believe you kinda like it, either. "You, Daddy."

"Hmm," Jeongguk hums with great satisfaction, giving you a very gentle but curt spank, before rolling back down beside you.

You're confused. Worried .

And then Jeongguk is chuckling to himself. "That was easier than I thought."

You sit up instantly.

Mouth ajar, you turn your head judgmentally, reaching a conclusion that is gonna earn Jeongguk the bluest balls he's ever had. You'll make sure of it.

"What?!"

"What?" He smirks right back.

"That was easy? " You question, still confused, but also aware that despite the raging boner he has, a fuck is not what he's after.

Maybe he wants to be blue balled.

Weirdo.

"Yeah," he smirks, then fucking giggles to himself. "I got you calling me Daddy . God, you're so willing to do anything for my cock, B. It's so cute."

His smile prevails as he giggles, finding much amusement in playing you at your own bratty game.

"Oh my God," you wail. "I fucking hate you! You know I hate 'Daddy'."

"And yet you'll do it for my cock," he laughs even harder, now. "Oh, it's adorable. Really really sweet."

"I'm ending our friendship."

"No you aren't," he tells you, reaching for your wrist to pull you back down into your sheets with him - and for reasons you (again) don't care to explain, you just let him.

"I am," you assure him, even though you're kinda now snuggling into him.

"Don't disobey your daddy, baby," he jokes.

"I'll send him to an early grave if he isn't careful," you warn, but it only cracks him up even more.

"So you admit it?" he teases. "I am your Daddy?"

"Oh my God!"

"I'm your God, too? Wow, you really are being kind today-"

He's interrupted by your dainty hands covering his mouth. "Shut your face."

Jeongguk just laughs. Knows he'll probably just make it up to you with a quick fuck, if you let him.

The cursed thing about it all?

You probably will let him.

'Cause even though you hate Daddy, and you hate feeling embarrassed, and you hate not understanding your feelings, you do understand that nothing feels quite as calm as the aftermath of time spent in bed with Jeongguk.

It's the orgasms, you tell yourself. He makes you calm when he makes you cum. There's probably a science behind it. You're not gonna google it, 'cause you don't wanna be proven wrong.

"Put a shirt on," you huff. "You're paying for the snacks this time. You owe me, like, I don't know. Three weeks worth of snacks for that little stunt."

And so when Jeongguk returns from the shop a little while later, you're pleased to see he really did buy enough snacks to last at least a month, if not longer.

"Was meaning to ask you," Jeongguk says as he unpacks one of the bags while you scroll through the Netflix home page. "When are you next in work?"

You're yet to tell him you booked the day off because of his exam. Now Wednesday, you have Thursdays off as usual. The Friday shift pattern changes most weeks depending on who needs it off, but this week, you've managed to get it off, too. Saturday will be your first shift.

"Well," Jeongguk says. "I missed a bunch of family events 'cause I was studying all the time. I'm probably gonna head over to Busan this evening just to show my face for a night or two. Keep mum happy."

"That's cute," you smile. "She'll appreciate it, I'm sure."

He nods. Knows she will. Feels bad for being a bit of a shitty son in the last few weeks.

"I know things have been a bit mad with Tae's shows, and just... Well, everything," Jeongguk staggers his words, a little unsure of himself. For once, he fears your rejection.

"Mhmm," you agree. "Been crazy."

"Yeah," he nods. "Sea air helps, though. You wanna come with?"

"To Busan?" you clarify.

For some reason, it feels like your heart is in your throat. You might throw it up entirely.

"To Busan," he reinforces. Turns to face you. "With me. Busan. You wanna come?"

"Do you want me to come?" You ask, not wanting to be a charity case 'cause he feels bad about the whole 'Daddy' thing.

Jeongguk doesn't feel bad about the 'Daddy' thing in the slightest. He genuinely just wants you to come with him.

"I'll get bored on the drive if I'm alone," he shrugs. "Plus mum keeps asking why I don't have a girlfriend yet and if I introduce her to someone as repulsive as you, maybe she'll stop insisti-

"Oh fuck you," you laugh. "Mothers love me."

"Yeah, sure they do," he teases, knowing full well his mum will think you're the greatest thing he's brought home since his first-grade report card.

"I'll prove you wrong," you say, not that you have to. Jeongguk is just winding you up. "Your mum is gonna like me more than she likes you."

"So you're gonna come with?"

You bite down on your bottom lip. Ignore the conventions of a relationship that are looming over the pair of you both. Nod.

"Yeah. I'll come with."

AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI

[avastrasposts]

The Pilot and his Girl - ch. 32**

We are slowly moving towards rock bottom with poor Frankie as he tries to get a handle on his addiction and his own demons.

I'm about to update the warnings for the next chapter. If there's something you're very sure you don't want to read about, please heed them. And if you don't want spoilers, please send me a DM and I'll tell you if you need to worry or not. I am moving towards something very dark and I know it might not be everyone's cup of tea and that's absolutely fine!

Series Master List

Chapter 33- Warnings have their own post - Word count: 10.9k

Another week passes, and you think maybe Frankie does better although his nightmares are still ever present, he gets moody sometimes and he’s always too tired, but slowly you think, maybe, you see an improvement. At least he stays away from Joel, you know that. He comes with you to the radio office in the morning or goes straight to someone who needs help fixing something, sometimes he goes scavenging for spare parts, or trades for them at the market, but never outside the QZ. When he’s done he comes by the radio, or you meet him and the guys at the bar. Often Tommy joins you, sometimes even Joel. Pope tells you he’s asked Joel if Frankie has tried trading for drugs again and Joel says he hasn’t seen Frankie at all.  

It’s been four weeks since Frankie came clean to you all, and the warm spring air seems light to you, even in the QZ. The ever entrepreneurial manager of the bar, Liz, has somehow managed to turn the grimy backyard into a ‘beer garden’ of sorts and now you’re all out there, sprawled in an assortment of patio furniture around a white plastic picnic table. 

Will keeps glancing at the door, Diana hasn’t turned up yet and even though she’s not late, you know Will is on edge until she gets here, just like you are before Frankie turns up. 

There’s been an increase in Firefly activity and FEDRA is on high alert, meaning random stops and checks in the street were now commonplace. The group you’d first only heard about through the scattering of graffiti throughout the QZ, had started making noise. Suddenly they’d recruited more people, were spreading their demands for a more just rule of the QZ, and almost every alley wall had their ‘slogan’ hastily spray painted across it; 'If you're lost in the dark, look for the light’. 

More than once you’d been approached by them, random women mostly, striking up conversations about FEDRA’s unjust methods and harsh control of the QZ. You knew the guys had also been approached, their reputation as men who knew how to handle themselves and any gun placed in their hands, made them prime targets for Firefly recruiters. So far all attempts had been shut down, getting involved in rebellions was something they’d done back in Delta Force and they were done with that. 

Will’s eyes flick to the door leading out to the backyard again as it swings open, but this time it’s Frankie. He’d gone inside for a round of drinks and he stumbles across the threshold, nearly spilling the tray of glasses he’s holding. 

“Jeez, Fish,” Benny laughs, “How many drinks did you have before I got here?” 

“Only one,” Frankie grumbles, carefully watching his steps as he crosses the yard and sets down the tray on the table. 

“The old man can’t take his alcohol anymore,” Tommy jokes, the two youngest men of the group chuckling together as Frankie rolls his eyes and hands you one of the glasses before sitting down next to you, his hand drifting to your thigh almost by its own accord. 

“You feeling ok?” you ask him in a low voice as Ben and Tommy continue celebrating being the youngest, and he nods, taking a sip of his drink before he gives you a quick smile. 

“Yeah, I’m good, just tired, didn’t sleep great last night again,” he answers and you put your hand on top of his, braiding your fingers between his. 

“It’ll get better, Frankie,” you soothe him, “you’re doing great.” 

Frankie looks at the whiskey swirling around his glass and gives you a weak smile before he takes another sip and looks over at Pope who’s asked Will something. You keep glancing at Frankie when he’s not looking. You know something isn’t right, but you can’t push it, not yet. He’s too tired, too sluggish even though he seems to be doing better. Pope had said it might just be the withdrawal symptoms, and it’s been only two weeks. But you feel blind, you can’t do anything but trust him, if he’s still using, you won’t know until it’s too late. So you scan his face, watch his moves, hoping and praying he’s being honest with you all and that he’s just fighting withdrawal symptoms. 

You lean back, taking a sip of your own drink, when from the street a loud explosion suddenly rocks through the air, making you all rush to your feet and turn towards the entrance to the bar. Shouts can be heard from inside and the sound of breaking glass. 

“Come on,” Pope says, “we need to get out of here!” He runs to the door, Frankie’s hold on your hand tightens and you follow him and next to you, you hear Will curse loudly. 

“Fuck! Diana is on her way here, I’ve got to find her!” He wrenches the door open, everyone inside is on their feet, facing the front door and someone is carefully looking outside. Just as Will crosses the room, heading for it, the door swings open and Diana runs inside, covered in dust, coughing. He’s on her in a split second, carefully cupping her cheeks. 

“Honey, please tell me you’re ok! What happened?” 

Diana coughs again and nods, “I’m ok, I think, the explosion was pretty far down the street, I just got pushed by the blast.”

Will is running his fingers over her head, scanning her body for any injuries, before he pulls her into a hug.

“Thank fucking god,” you hear him mumble. 

“We should get out of here,” Pope says, the bar is emptying now. The other patrons are filtering out through the door, looking down the street before hurrying off. When you’re all out on the street you can hear the rumble of FEDRA trucks approaching and the blaring of their alarms. 

“You guys should come over to our place, it's the closest, gonna be a bitch to get home now,” Frankie says. 

“I’m gonna head over to my girlfriend,” Tommy says, “she’s just a couple of streets over, gonna make sure she’s ok.” He waves a quick goodbye before he takes off, jogging down a side street. 

“C’mon,” Pope starts walking towards your building. You walk fast, getting out of the way of more and more FEDRA soldiers moving in, heavily armed and looking ready to take down anyone they don’t like. You feel relieved when you make it inside, everyone piling into your apartment, it’s bigger than Pope’s. Just as you’re about to step inside, one of your neighbors comes up the stairs. 

“Did you hear the explosion?” he asks and you nod. 

“Yeah, we were at the bar, do you know what happened?” 

“Those damn Fireflies, they blew up a truck! Blew a big hole in the street!” He shakes his head as he starts up the next flight of stairs, “FEDRA’s going to be worse than ever now, mark my words!”

You sink down on the couch in the crowded living room, Frankie sits on the arm rest next to you and you put your arm around his waist, leaning into his side. 

“Fucking Fireflies,” Pope grumbles, “I know they’re trying to make things better but what the fuck do they think blowing up trucks will do?”

“FEDRA will crack down even harder now,” Will says, handing Diana a damp washcloth and helping her clean the dust off her face and clothes. “Have they even been successful in other QZ’s?”

Through the radio, and overhearing people’s messages, you knew the Fireflies have spread over most of the US. From almost every QZ came reports of their activities, usually hiding dissent at how FEDRA ran the QZ’s, it was clear that FEDRA wasn’t doing a good job anywhere. 

“I haven’t heard anything of them having any major success,” you reply, “at most they manage to disrupt things, and from what little people say, FEDRA cracks down hard on everyone, not just the Fireflies.” 

“How does FEDRA respond?” Pope asks and you shake your head, grimacing. 

“Not well…extended curfews, harder punishments, even death penalties, harder controls of medicine and food, checkpoints across the QZ, a couple of places even have public executions, I heard they do hangings in Kansas City.” 

“Great,” Benny sighs, “It’ll be fucking Arlington all over again if they keep this up.” 

“You can’t blame them though,” Eve says, she’s sitting on Benny’s lap, “FEDRA are fucking fascists, the Fireflies want to over throw them and have democratic rule.” 

“Yeah, sure, FEDRA are a bunch of fascists, but when has bombing city streets ever helped?” Benny asks and Eve just shrugs. 

…

The next day FEDRA trucks drive through the QZ, blaring an announcement from loudspeakers in the truck beds. 

“The criminal gang known as The Fireflies is now classified as a terrorist organization. Any citizen found collaborating or participating will be tried and convicted.”

They drive through the QZ all day and before long you feel a headache throbbing behind your eyes as you sit at the radio. There’s less people stopping by today, most are too scared to go out unless they have to. 

“Joy came by with a message for her brother,” Sean says as you share lunch in the office. “She said a FEDRA officer told her they are going to execute anyone found to be a Firefly member.” 

“That’s terrible,” you say, “FEDRA’s trials are a joke already, now they’re going to execute people based on those?” You shake your head and scrape the last of the thin stew up with your arepa.

“They’ve put up checkpoints everywhere,” Sean sighs, “It feels like this is only the beginning.” 

“Not only checkpoints, I was stopped three times in the street by soldiers on my way over here this morning, everyone is a potential terrorist in their eyes now.” . 

Your lunch is suddenly disturbed by a door slamming open down the hall and shouts from the few people waiting for your lunch break to be over. Heavy boots come stomping down the hallway and you throw a worried glance at Sean. The door of the office is only half closed but now it’s thrown wide open, slamming against the shelf behind it with a loud crash. Two FEDRA soldiers step inside, their rifles pointed at the floor thankfully, followed by an office and two more soldiers. 

“On your feet!” the office barks, “Up against the wall!” You’d already flown to your feet when the door slammed open, now the soldiers advance on you both with their guns raised and you back up against the only window in the room. 

“Where are your records of incoming and outgoing messages?” the office asks, his voice rough as he pushes the papers on the radio desk around. 

“We-we don’t keep any records.” Sean stutters, “Sir,” he adds. 

“Why not? What are you hiding?” the officer, his name tag says Ambrose, barks, “All incoming and outgoing messages must be logged.”

“Only civilians use this radio, there is no rule saying we have to keep logs of their messages.” 

“New rule, from now on you have to keep a log of all messages,” the officer sneers, “Check those shelves for contraband, you two, check those boxes.” He directs the soldiers to the shelves and boxes that line the wall and they start rifling through the content. You know they only contain spare parts for the radio, nuts and bolts, a few wires, but the soldiers go through it like they’re expecting to find drugs and weapons, every piece is pulled out and left scattered on the floor. 

“Please, be careful with that, they’re spare parts for the radio,” Sean protests as one of the soldiers knocks over a box of equipment. 

“Shut up old man, or I’ll toss ‘em out the window,” Officer Ambrose snarls, “you’re lucky we’re letting you keep ‘em to start with.”

“They’re parts for this particular amateur radio model,” you interject, “they won’t work with the more powerful army issue radio FEDRA uses.” Frankie had taught you that when he helped Sean find some of the parts in an old AV shop a few blocks away. 

Ambrose looks at you and you see a glimmer of recognition in his eyes, “You’re Morales’s wife,” he says, “you and him hang around with the Millers and that other beaner, Garcia.” He looks you up and down, “No wonder you work there then, that’s how they get their information.” You feel your skin run cold, if he’s saying what you think he’s saying, then FEDRA knows about the smuggling. 

“She works here because she’s an excellent radio operator and she knows this machine better than even I do!” Sean protests, “I don’t know what you’re insinuating.” 

“Start keeping those records, old man,” he snarls, still looking at you, “Or we’ll come back and smash the radio and your office to pieces. And just a warning; I catch as much of a whiff of Firefly activity here, you’re both going to the scaffolds.” He barks orders at the soldiers and they step outside, marching behind Ambrose down the hallway. Sean and you are left surveying the mess they’ve left behind, the content of the shelves and boxes scattered across the floor. With a deep sigh you bend down and start putting things back, checking for damage as you go. 

It takes you the rest of the afternoon to tidy the office while Sean handles the people still waiting to receive and send messages. He writes down the messages people send, and the ones received, putting all the scraps of paper in a box. If FEDRA wants to read what people talk about, they’ll have to sort through it themselves. Although Sean does raise the suspicion that maybe FEDRA will try to listen in on what the radio receives or broadcasts, it means you’ll both have to be much more careful in the future. 

You head back home, feeling rattled by the day’s events, together with the checkpoints and being stopped in the street, FEDRA’s presence in the QZ is starting to feel oppressive. You remember how quickly it escalated in Arlington, praying it won’t come to that. 

Frankie hadn’t been past the radio office today, he’d been helping a friend of Sean’s clean out and repair an old open fireplace in exchange for new boots he desperately needed, his old ones falling apart. When you open the door to the apartment you see the new boots neatly placed inside the door and heavy snoring comes from the living room. You look around the corner and smile, Frankie’s on his back on the couch, one arm slung over his head, the other across his chest, mouth agape while he snores, loudly. He’s not usually a heavy snorer but he hasn’t been sleeping well, often waking up tired and groggy. You kneel down next to him and put your hand on his arm, he twitches but keeps snoring, his nose wiggling over his mustache, making you smile. He looks younger and softer than he has in years when he’s sleeping like this, relaxed without nightmares. He must’ve decided to take a nap on the couch after coming home so you leave him sleeping. You tiptoe past him and into the kitchen to start making dinner. 

The arepas are waiting to be fried when there’s a knock on the front door. You hear Frankie stir but he doesn’t wake up and you peek out before you open. Pope’s standing outside, a bag of groceries in his hand. 

“Hey,” he says as you let him in and take the bag from him. “I brought some of the groceries I got with my ration cards, your cooking is better than mine,” he grins as he toes off his unlaced boots. 

“Thanks,” you peer into the bag, spotting some stuff that was definitely not obtainable with ration cards, Pope, Will and Benny had made sure you had more than enough even though Frankie wasn’t smuggling and always seemed to make excuses to fill your pantry. “I’ll cook for you every day if you bring things like this,” you say and pull out a side of pork, something you hadn’t seen in a long time. 

“Frankie’s living the good life I see,” Pope chuckles, spotting him, still stretched out on the couch, snoring lightly now. 

“He’s not sleeping great at night, he must’ve been really tired,” you look over at him and smile, he mumbles and turns on to his side, back to the room. “I should probably wake him up now though, or he won’t sleep tonight.” 

“You get him up then, I’ll put this stuff away,” Pope takes the bag from you and goes to the kitchen while you go over to the couch and kneel down, wrapping your arm around Frankie’s waist and leaning your chin on his shoulder. 

“Hey, Frankie boy, time to wake up,” you whisper, running your hand up and down his side and he mumbles incoherently, still firmly asleep. “Frankie, baby, wake up, or Santi’s gonna eat all your dinner,” you tease, shaking him lightly. He must be really tired, usually he wakes up the second you touch him, now he only mutters and rolls over onto his back, throwing his arm over his eyes. 

From the kitchen Santi starts rattling plates around; “C’mon, pendejo, despiértate! I’m fucking starving!” he yells and Frankie finally stirs enough to peel his eyes open. 

“Cállate…” he mumbles while he blinks the sleep from his eyes. 

“Hey baby, wake up,” you smile, pressing your lips to his scruffy jaw, “you’ve been sleeping for hours I think.” All you get in response is a grumble and you take his hand, pulling him up to sitting. He rubs his hands over his face and blinks a few times again, his eyes are red and he looks pretty out of it still. 

“Are you feeling ok, Frankie? You look pretty terrible.” 

“Thanks,” he mumbles, giving you a weak smile before he yawns, “I slept like shit last night and I was fucking tired all day but I had to help with that fireplace, got ash fucking everywhere.” 

“Your eyes are really red, did you rinse them?” you ask and he nods. 

“Yeah, but I only had water, I hope it was clean enough.” 

“C’mon, dinner’s served,” Pope calls from the kitchen and you give Frankie a hand up. 

“The other’s aren’t here yet,” you say, “Will and Benny are coming over with Diana and Eve.” 

“Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you,” Pope replies, “Will asked me to tell you that FEDRA is putting a new curfew in place, 6 am to 6 pm. It won’t come into effect until tomorrow but they didn’t wanna risk being outside with FEDRA soldiers looking to jump the gun any chance they get.” 

“But that means we won’t be able to have dinner together at all!” You sink down in your chair with a grumble, “Fuck FEDRA.” 

You start serving the stew, Frankie’s got his head in his hands on the table, giving you a tired smile when you place the bowl in front of him. 

“Thanks.” 

“Speaking of FEDRA assholes, an officer came by the radio today with a bunch of soldiers and turned the place upside down, luckily they didn’t break the radio,” you say, serving yourself. You see Frankie’s eyebrows furrow. 

“What did they want?” he asks. 

“Anything, I think,” you reply. “First they asked about logs for in- and outgoing messages, which we don’t keep of course. So they told us we have to from now on and I think they want to see if there’s any mention of the Fireflies from other QZ’s.” 

“And they think you’ll write that down in a log book?” Santi says, shaking his head, “they’re more stupid than I thought…” 

“I always just assumed they were listening in on the radio. That can’t be hard, it’s just regular amateur radio.” 

“You give FEDRA way too much credit, cariño,” Frankie says while dipping his arepa in the stew, “they don’t know shit unless they have someone who actually was a radio operator before the outbreak. And I doubt it.”

“There was something else, more worrying,” you say, “the officer, Ambrose, recognized me as your wife. He made it sound like he knew about the smuggling. When he saw that I worked the radio he said ‘so that’s how they get their information.’ “

“We haven’t used Sean’s radio for setting up trades for years,” Santi frowns, “he couldn’t know about the smuggling through that, he’s hasn’t been in the QZ long enough.” 

“So that means he knows about it some other way, but he doesn’t know how you get the information,” Frankie replies, “but how does he know?” 

“Yeah, that’s worrying,” Santi says, tapping his fingers on the table as he furrows his brows, “I’ll have to talk to Will and Benny, see if we’re missing something. Or someone.”  

The three of you fall silent while you finish dinner, it’s not until you’ve all sunk down onto the couch that Santi speaks again. 

“I’m thinking we should probably be more careful with our runs, go less often, even if FEDRA aren’t getting nosy,” he says, opening the bottle of whiskey he’d brought. “Runs are getting more and more risky, not just getting out without FEDRA noticing, but also getting through the area around the QZ.” 

“More infected?” Frankie asks and Santi nods. 

“Yeah, people who are trying to get to the QZ are getting infected before they get here. And if they can’t, or don’t want to, kill themselves, they just add to the ones already there.” 

“Please Santi, please be careful,” you plead with him, “it was always dangerous, if it’s even more now then maybe it’s best to stop.” 

“Don’t worry, we have some ideas,” he says, smiling at you. “We’ve got a contact with FEDRA who’s willing to make sure certain supply trucks don’t get checked too thoroughly. I need to make sure he’s reliable and then we can start bringing in goods that way.” 

“What’s Joel and Tommy doing?” Frankie asks. 

“Still looking for someone to partner up with, don’t think they’ve found anyone yet though.” Santi replies, “And as far as I know, they’re still going outside pretty regularly.” 

“I guess they have to if they want to meet up with the guy from Concord,” you say, “he’s the one supplying the oxy right?”

“Unless they found someone else, yeah, it’ll be the same guy.” 

Santi stays until he sees Frankie yawn and your eyes starting to droop closed, the day catching up with you both.. 

“I’ll see you guys tomorrow, get some sleep, both of you,” he winks, “no pre-bed activities, you both look like shit.” 

“Thanks Santi, always the charmer,” you mock scowl at him as Frankie yawns again, wide enough to make his jaw pop. 

“Night, hermano, see you tomorrow,” he mumbles, getting to his feet. After Santi’s left he locks up and follows you into the bathroom. 

“I need a shower,” he mutters, his eyes half closed, “should’ve showered when I got home but I was too tired.” 

“I need a shower too,” you say as Frankie begins to peel off his clothes and he gives you a tired smile.

“Please shower with me, hermosa,” he says, holding out his hand as he kicks off his jeans, “No funny business, I promise.” 

“What if I want some funny business?” you smirk at him as you unbutton your own jeans but poor Frankie just shakes his head. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so tired, cariño, without the pills the nightmares are kicking my ass,” he says, turning on the water and letting it run warm, “I’m not being a very good husband.” 

“Don’t be silly, Frankie, you’re the best husband I’ve ever had,” you smile, dropping your shirt in the hamper and stepping in after Frankie, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. The warm water runs over you both and you sigh as it soaks over your tired muscles. Frankie just hums in response, hanging his head and letting the water run over him, until his brain catches up. 

“I’m the only husband you’ve ever had,” he says with a snort, turning in your arms and putting his own around you. “You have nothing to compare with,” he smiles down at you as you blink up at him through the water. 

“Am I the best wife you’ve ever had?” you ask with a coy voice that makes Frankie chuckle. 

“Hmm…let me think about it,” he says, stroking his beard while you playfully poke his ribs and he smiles again, “Best wife I’ve ever had, best human I’ve ever known, you’re perfect in every possible way,” he says, bending down and running the tip of his nose along yours, gently nudging your cheek before his lips find yours. You moan into his mouth as he makes you open up for him, his tongue slipping along yours, tasting you and pulling you closer, deepening the kiss until you’re breathless. 

“I thought you said no funny business,” you mumble against his lips when you finally break apart. 

“I’m just kissing my wife,” he mumbles back, the heavy weight of his cock making itself known between you. 

“Does your dick know that?” you ask, sliding your hand between the two of you and closing your fingers around the thick length, even with the warm water from the shower, it feels hot in your hand. Frankie groans and you feel his hips jolt, thrusting into your hand as you start stroking him. 

“Let me take care of you, Frankie,” you mumbled, reaching up and pressing your lips against his neck, your tongue slipping over his wet skin. You can feel the rumble of his throat under it as his cock twitches in your hand. “I want to taste you, feel that heavy weight of your cock in my mouth as you come.” You pull back and look up at him, his eyes already closed, his head tilted back, “Say it, Frankie, tell me what you want me to do.” 

“Cariño,” he moans, “please, I want your mouth, suck my cock.” His hips jolt again, he’s holding back from fucking into your tight fist but you can feel him grow increasingly hard under your light grip. You give him a final kiss on his throat before you make him back up against the shower wall, he drops his head back with a dull thud. The harsh bathroom light is on and you take your time as you drop to your knees, admiring his thick and long cock, the shower has made it wet and slick, the head swollen and weeping. Looking up at him, blinking through the shower water, you see that he’s still got his eyes closed, but his breaths are rapid and strained. Still watching him you stick out your tongue and run the tip lightly over the slit. The effect is instant, a strained groan rumbles from him and it makes you smile, you love the sounds you can pull from him when he lets himself focus only on what you do to him, without him trying to make you feel good at the same time. 

The water makes your hand slide easily up and down his shaft while you take the head into your mouth, tasting the salty drops leaking from him as you make sure your tongue licks over every part of, tracing the ridge and veins, circling the head with warm lips. He bucks into you, his heavy groans louder as your hand closes more tightly around what’s not in your mouth, he’s already close, you can feel him swell and twitch in your mouth. Pulling back a little you glance up at him and see him looking down at you, open mouth and glassy eyes. Like always when he concentrates his tongue rests on his bottom lip, the pink tip peeking out. He’s breathing heavily and his hips start to thrust lightly almost of their own accord. Still looking at him you let him slip out of your mouth and lick a wide stripe from the bottom of his cock, all the way up along the underside, your hand gliding  down and gently cupping his balls as your mouth envelops him again, adding pressure, sucking him in between your tight lips. 

“Fuck, bebita, please…” he moans, almost a pained expression on his face, “don’t stop, I need your mouth,” he’s kept his hands by his sides, fist clenched, but now he cups your cheeks, caressing your skin as you take more of him, deeper into your mouth, his blunt head nudging against the back of your throat. His moaning is downright filthy, a panted whine as he squeezes his eyes shut. You increase the pressure, tightening your mouth’s firm grip around his slick cock, letting it slide in and out of your mouth as Frankie’s breathing grows erratic. 

“Don’t stop,” he groans, “so close, fuck, your mouth, hermosa…”

You breathe in and take him as deep as you can, your nose nudging the wet curls at the base of his cock, you can feel him spasming as you swallow around him, heavy on your tongue. Your mouth tightens around him, sucking firmly along the whole shaft and with a sudden, loud groan he comes, his hips bucking his cock into your throat, making you gag as you breathe through your nose. Hot liquid fills your mouth, dripping out on the sides as you suck him through his climax. He’s moaning above you, incoherent strings of Spanish, filth pouring out until his cock begins to soften in your mouth. You let him slip out, gently wrapping your hand around it and cleaning him off. 

“I might pass out,” he mutters, breathing heavily as he tilts his head back, trying to compose himself, “Fuck me, I needed that, cariño.” He opens his eyes as you stand up, placing a soft kiss on his little belly before he can kiss your lips. 

“Best wife I’ve ever had,” he mumbles and you giggle against his mouth.

“I know,” you smirk, “thought I’d remind you.” 

“Thank you for the reminder,” he smiles back. 

…

The next day things in the QZ get worse. As you walk to the radio with Frankie you can hear the new announcement from FEDRA; Going outside the QZ without a permit is now punishable by death. Entering the QZ without a permit is now punishable by death. Bringing in illegal contraband is now punishable by death. Collaborating with the Fireflies is now punishable by death. A special military court will be set up to deal with all violations of these rules

There are soldiers everywhere, check points every few blocks and everyone is on edge. Frankie holds on tightly to your hand, both of you keeping your heads down as you hurry through the streets. Life in the QZ was never easy, but now it feels like a police state, much worse than Arlington when it all blew up. Frankie looks worried when he leaves you but he’s got work in a different sector. 

“If I can even get there, so many fucking check points,” he grumbles, looking over his shoulder as another FEDRA truck rumbles past. 

“Be careful, come back if it gets too crazy,” you say, reaching up and giving him a kiss. 

“I’ll see you soon, cariño,” he gives you another quick kiss before leaving. 

He makes his way towards the eastern section, down towards the docks, passing through two check points on the way. It takes time but he’s only a little bit late when he knocks on the usual door. After a minute a window above him opens up and Tess looks down at him, her long auburn hair tied back. Lowering her gun she raises her hand in a wave.

“I’ll be right down.” 

“What happened to Georgie?” Frankie asks as Tess lets him in through the locked front door. 

“He got caught coming back,” she say with a scowl, “fucking idiot took a wrong turn in the tunnel and popped up right in front of a patrol.” 

“They’ve made that punishable by death now,” Frankie says as he follows her into the empty hotel she and Georgie use as a base, “they were announcing it all over the streets when I came over.” 

“Yeah, I heard. He was caught a couple of days ago and is still in lock up as far as I know, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they hang him.” Tess sighs as she unlocks a door to her makeshift office, a small room tucked away at the end of the building behind signs reading ‘Entry prohibited - Bio-hazard’. 

“I hope he makes it, he’s not exactly a good friend but I can trust him and he scares the shit out of people.” She holds the door open for Frankie and he steps into the familiar little space.

“I need a favor from you,” she says as she closes the door behind them, “You know Joel Miller.” It’s a statement not a question and Frankie nods, his hand closed around the stack of ration cards he has in his pocket. 

“Since Georgie’s most likely gone, I’m going to need a new partner. Georgie had the connections for bringing in most of what I trade. Some connections I can take over, but most he handled on his own. Can you set up a meeting with him? I know he and his brother have been looking to partner with someone,” Tess opens a small safe, making sure to not show Frankie the combination, and pulls out two small baggies. “You still want oxy and ambien?” 

Frankie nods, “Joel really doesn’t trust anyone, you sure you wanna work with him?” He gives Tess his ration cards and she hands him the baggies before she counts the cards. 

“From what I hear, he might not trust people, but he won’t sell me out to FEDRA,” she replies, sticking the cards in her back pocket. 

“No, he wouldn’t do that, and as long as you know his loyalty is only to himself and Tommy, and you can handle that, he’s good to work with, knows his shit.” 

“How come you don’t work with him anymore?” Tess asks, ushering him out of the door again. 

“My wife doesn’t want me smuggling anymore, I’m all she’s got,” he says, a twinge of guilt eating at him as they walk back through the hotel, “she’s all I’ve got,” he adds. 

If Tess notices his uncomfort, she doesn’t mention it, “Must be nice having someone like that, something like that,” she says, “How long have you been with her?” 

“Since before the outbreak,” Frankie replies, “we’d been dating for a year when it happened.”

“You’re lucky, both of you,” Tess opens the front door again, leaning against the frame after Frankie’s passed through it. “Both of you still alive, together, must be nice,” she says again and there’s something she’s not saying, Frankie recognizes the undertone of grief in her voice, and he nods. 

“Yeah, we’ve been lucky, but we’ve lost people too,” he’s got his hands in his pocket, his fingers closing around the pills in the bags. “If I can introduce you to Joel, what’s in it for me?” he asks and Tess raises her eyebrows. She’s surprised it took him so long to ask. 

“Discounts,” she smirks, motioning with her hand to his pocket. 

Frankie nods and starts leaving, “I’ll talk to Joel, see if he wants to meet with you.” 

“Thanks Frankie,” Tess gives him a wave as he walks away. 

…

It doesn’t take Frankie long to get hold of Joel and tell him about Tess but the situation in the QZ deteriorates and plans are put on hold. The Fireflies attack the checkpoint into the sector where you live the day after he meets with Tess and for a few days it’s impossible to leave. You can’t get to the radio or to Will and Benny’s places, there are soldiers everywhere and all there is to do is to stay inside and lay low. You’re both starting to get worried about the situation in the QZ. 

“I don’t know where we’d go, but I think we should make an emergency exit plan,” Frankie says one day. “A plan to quickly get out of here if things go bad.”

You nod, looking down at the street through the window. There’s another patrol going down the street, heavily armed. There’s no curfew during the days, you were free to go outside. But as you watch the patrol stop two women walking down the street, searching their clothes and bags, it’s clear FEDRA isn’t letting anyone walk the street in peace right now. 

Frankie comes up behind you, leaning his head on your shoulder as he puts his arms around your waist. 

“I’ll talk to the guys, see what we can do. We hid a working car just outside the wall, that’ll get us away from Boston at least.” 

“All seven of us?” you ask, looking back at him. He sighs and shakes his head. 

“No, all seven of us won’t fit, but we’ll figure something out.” 

“Maybe we should just try to find some abandoned farm somewhere remote, live away from everyone else,” you say, leaning back so that you can feel his solid chest behind your back, “just risk it out there rather than in here with FEDRA, it just keeps getting worse and more and more oppressive.” 

“Maybe the Fireflies will be successful,” Frankie mumbles, watching the patrol disappear around a corner, “turn things around.” 

“You really think so?” you ask, he can hear the doubt in your voice. 

“No, not really,” he sighs, “but I like your farm idea, fuck everyone else, just you and me.” 

“It’s always just you and me, Frankie, even here. The others are like family but not like you, not the way you’re my family.” 

He buries his face in the crook of your neck as he tightens his grip on you, you can feel his warm breath on your skin. He doesn’t say anything so you just stand there while he breathes in your scent, memorizing it, as if he wouldn’t recognize it anywhere already. 

…

The morning the checkpoint reopens he leaves before you’re out of bed, gently dropping a kiss on your cheek while he rouses you, sitting on the bed. 

“I need to see Miguel about some spare parts, the clinic needs to fix some medical equipment,” he mumbles, his lips close to your skin while you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He chuckles and untangles himself, “I’ve got to go, cariño, I’ll see you this afternoon, I’ll come pick you up at the radio.” 

He makes his way through the checkpoint and over to Joel’s place. Tommy’s already there and Frankie leads them to the meeting spot he’d agreed on with Tess before the check point was bombed, hoping she’ll come back at the same time. Appointments were often postponed or interrupted in the QZ so there was a habit of just turning up at the same place, same time a couple days in a row and hoping for the best if you didn’t hear from the other person.

Tess is there, waiting, when the two Miller brothers and Frankie scramble up to the second floor of a partially bombed building. Joel grumbles about having to ‘drag and climb a fuckin’ dumpster’  but stands up straight and gives Tess a once over when she pushes herself off the dilapidated office desk she was leaning against. 

“This is Tess Servopoulos,” Frankie says, “Joel and Tommy Miller,” he points at each man. 

“Nice to meet you, Tess,” Tommy says, holding out his hand to her and she takes it with a smile. 

“Same, your reputation precedes you,” she replies, holding out her hand to Joel too, who accepts it and gives her hand a firm shake. 

“Only a good reputation, I hope,” Tommy chuckles, easing the tension in the meeting, although Joel still stands rigid, putting his hands into his jeans pockets after shaking her hand. 

“Frankie says you’re reliable and know your shit,” Tess says, eyeing Joel's silent form like she’s trying to gauge him. She knows he’s the one she has to convince and he’s doing his best to look as standoffish as possible. 

“We’ve been smuggling pretty much since the outbreak,” Tommy replies, “been in Boston for about five years now.”  

Tess nods, “I’ve been working with Georgie for about six years, here and there, but he got caught by FEDRA last week.” 

“Yeah, Frankie told us, bad luck,” Tommy nods but Joel scoffs. 

“Bad luck…he got sloppy, if that’s the kind of operation you run, we’re not interested, darlin’,” he says and Tess narrows her eyes at him, opening her mouth but closes it again, biting back whatever retort was on her mind. 

She turns to Tommy instead, “I know you used to work with a few other guys, why are you looking for a new partner?” 

“Our cousins have a thing about not smuggling drugs,” Joel replies, cutting Tommy off, “that a problem for you?” 

“Smuggling ‘em? Not at all,” Tess says, glancing at Frankie and he does his best to not look at Joel. When Joel asked how Frankie knew Tess he said he’d traded with her for spare parts for the radio. It was true, he had traded with her for parts, but only once. 

Joel looks at Frankie, connecting the dots, as Tommy gives Tess a rough outline of how they usually operate, what they can get their hands on. 

“You ok with that, Frankie?” Joel asks him, “Tess trading drugs? You got a handle on it?”

“Yeah, it’s not a problem,” Frankie looks up at Joel and wills himself to keep his eyes steady on the older man, “it’s fine.” 

Joel gives him a slow nod, “Ok, as long as you’re fine with it.” 

But Tess frowns and looks at Joel, “What do you mean?” she asks, eyeing him, “Why would Frankie have any problems with me trading drugs? He buys them from me.” 

Tommy raises his eyebrows at this piece of information and looks at Frankie who tries to square his shoulders and look like he’s in control. 

“They’re worried I’ll get addicted,” he says, “I got pretty bad PTSD after I left the army and when shit gets too dark here, it comes back,” he shrugs, feigning a casual attitude he doesn’t feel, “but I just need the shit to sleep, the nightmares never really went away and the pills help with that, that’s all.” 

He knows he’s not telling the whole truth and Joel certainly knows that, but Frankie meets his eyes and refuses to look away, willing the man to understand that he’s got it under control.  

Tess gives him a hard stare as Frankie tugs on his ball cap and crosses his arms. “Ok, as long as you’ve got a handle on it, I don’t have any issues, I’m not your moral compass, we all do what we need to do to get by. And from what I hear, you guys sell drugs too?,” she looks over at Joel who nods. 

“Yeah, but I stopped selling to Frankie a while back, and we stopped working together, what we did triggered his PTSD.”

“I’ve got it under control now,” Frankie says, he can feel the familiar panic creeping through his nerves. If Joel tells Tess to cut him off he has nowhere else to go. “Since I stopped with the smuggling I’m fine, it’s just the nightmares that give me insomnia, I just need the drugs to help me sleep on nights when it gets bad. But it’s less now, hardly ever.” He’s lying through his teeth, trying to keep his voice steady and his poker face on, but he’s not sure he manages.

“I don’t give a fuck, Frankie,” Joel says, “I’m not selling to you, mainly out of respect for your wife and Will and Benny. But like she said, I ain’t your moral compass.” He turns to Tess again, “Either way, that doesn’t affect our potential partnership. Since Frankie trusts you, maybe this can work, but I need to talk to my brother in private first. We’ll let you know in a couple of days.”

Tess nods and shakes both Joel and Tommy’s hands before the two men leave. Frankie and Tess follow after them, jumping down onto the dumpster. 

“Your wife’s not gonna come after me for supplying drugs to you, is she?” Tess asks as they reach the ground. 

“No,” he shakes his head, starting to walk away. 

“She doesn’t know, does she?” Tess has crossed her arms over her chest and is giving him another hard stare. 

“She does, she knows I take them to sleep,” Frankie tugs on his cap again, he knows it’s a nervous gesture and Tess just shakes her head. 

“You’re a shit liar, Frankie,” she says as she gives him another hard look, “Just keep it under control, ok?” 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s under control:” He raises his hand and gives her a wave, “I’ll see you around, I’ve got to get going.” 

“Yeah, I’ll see you around, Frankie.” 

…

Despite Joel’s mistrusting nature, he agrees to start working with Tess, on a trial basis. Frankie finds out a few days later when he asks Tess for an actual spare part for the clinic. 

“Joel’s a piece of work, but I prefer that to someone who throws his trust at anyone, that’ll get you killed,” she says, taking the ration cards the clinic had given him in exchange for a pristine looking piece of equipment. Frankie doesn’t know what it does exactly but he knows the one in the machine is broken and he’ll fix it somehow. 

“Joel knows his shit,” Frankie says, tucking the equipment into his backpack, walking back through the hotel with Tess. “Thanks for the part, Diana will be happy, the machine is important to them.”

“Sure, let me know if you need anything else.” She gives him a wave as he leaves. 

When he meets up with the rest of the guys later at the bar he tells them about Joel’s new partner. 

“I’m surprised Joel’s prepared to work with someone else,” Benny leans back on the couch and kicks out his long legs, “Tommy says he’s turned down both Miguel and that guy Robert.” 

“It’s a smart move,” Will replies, “FEDRA is all over the place, he’s gonna need an extra pair of eyes for any bigger trades. We’re gonna need to be real careful too, it’s no longer just a few nights in FEDRA lock up. They’re actually going through with fucking executions.”

“As if dealing with raiders and infected wasn’t bad enough, now FEDRA wants to kill us too?” Benny huffs, “Half the stuff we bring in goes to soldiers, for fucks sake…” 

Pope nods and takes a sip of the bar’s homemade whiskey, grimacing at the taste, “They were setting up for a hanging when I came over, three guys caught in condemned buildings. If FEDRA’s  already suspecting us like your girl said, Frankie, then we should probably lay low for a few weeks. We’ve got the supplies we need for now.” 

“What about the trade we have planned, we’ve got stuff coming in from Worcester, that deal Will and I set up? We’re gonna need to receive it and get it stashed as soon as it comes in.” Benny looks over at the others. 

For years their best contact had been a FEDRA soldier in the QZ, and through him Benny and Will had made a connection with a FEDRA officer in the Worcester QZ, the man’s brother in law. It had taken months but a convoy of FEDRA trucks were due to come over from Worcester, together with the officer and a number of much needed supplies hidden among the official FEDRA shipments. Thanks to Boston being a much bigger QZ the guys had been able to offer him a large stack of ration cards in exchange for a number of in demand items. 

Pope nods at Benny, “Yeah, we have to handle that one, we won't be able to postpone it.” He glances over at Frankie, “I hate to ask, hermano…” he says, “but we could really use your help, just as a look out, for that trade now. You think you’re ok to do it? I hate to say it, but you still look like shit.” 

Frankie shrugs, “I still don’t sleep great, the nightmares are a bitch, but yeah of course, if you need me, I can do it.” 

“Are you sure, Frankie?” Will asks, “I don’t want you doing this if you don’t feel ok, we’re not risking your recovery for this. The three of us will just do it as usual.” 

“If you need me, man, I can do it. And it’s just as a lookout right? That’s just keeping an eye on things, making sure no FEDRA patrols are around?” 

“Yeah, we’ve set up a lookout point near the location and we got some radios. All you’d need to do is sit there and radio me if anything happens.” Pope says, glancing over at Will who nods. 

“Talk to your wife first though, we don’t want to cause any family drama here, make sure she’s onboard with it and thinks you're ok to do it.” 

“Yeah, I’ll talk to her tonight, I’ll let you guys know tomorrow,” Frankie says, putting down his glass and getting ready to leave. “I’m picking her up from the radio office in a little bit. What day is this happening?”

“Thursday,” Pope says, “I’ll come by tomorrow and we’ll talk it through.” 

“Ok, yeah, I’ll talk to her, but I feel good, I can do that, I wanna help you guys anyway I can,”

“Appreciate it, man,” Benny says, Frankie drops his hand on the younger man’s shoulder as he’s leaving and Benny gives it a quick squeeze, looking up at Frankie. “It’s good to know you’re doing better, Fish.”  

Frankie gives him a crooked smile and a wave to the other two and heads out the door of the bar. 

…

Frankie’s waiting outside the radio when you step outside, Sean’s taken over the radio for the evening and you’re stretching out your back after a long shift hunched over the dials and notebooks. You see him before he sees you, leaning against a barrier on the other side of the street, watching a group of children playing on a makeshift playground in a small park. They’ve all got the rough looking hand me downs the orphan children of the local FEDRA school wears and there’s two elderly ladies in FEDRA uniforms keeping an eye on them. 

Frankie looks tired, dark circles under his eyes and his ordinarily tan skin is ashen and gray. His curls are still brown but his scruffy beard is mostly silver now, as you watch his hand comes up and absentmindedly rubs across his jaw, scratching at the short hairs. You’d spent some time last night giving his beard and hair a trim, giggling as he wriggled his nose when the hairs tickled him. Sometimes he was back to his normal self, relaxed and soft around you, sleeping better without nightmares, even cracking jokes and messing with Benny when you met up with the others. But you could see that he was struggling still, the good nights were far apart and most mornings he moved like a sleepwalker, taking time to come back to life. In the evenings he stumbled to bed and was fast asleep as soon as he’d curled himself around you, sometimes the nightmares would plague him but he couldn’t wake up, you’d shake him and he’d be trapped in his nightmare. When you finally managed to rouse him he’d be disoriented and panicky until he fell asleep again, almost instantly. 

Now you walk across the street as he watches the kids take turns on the makeshift tire swing. You know which one of the children he’s looking at; a young girl, about five, with the same dark curls as Lucía. She’s hanging on to the swing, shrieking with laughter as another girl spins the tire around, her hair whirling around her head as she throws it back and giggles. 

“Hey Frankie,” you say as you come up to him, he turns around as you sneak your arms around his waist, pulling him out of his silent reverie. 

“Hey cariño,” he says, giving you a kiss before turning back to the park. The girl had gotten off the swing and was running towards the slide. “She reminds me of Lucía,” he mumbles, glancing over at you, “makes me wonder what she’d look like now.” You give his waist an extra squeeze as you watch the girl shoot down the slide and run around to climb back up to the top. 

“She’d be fifteen now, too old for playgrounds,” he gives a small smile, “although, I don’t think she’d ever get too old for swings, she loved them.” 

The little girl has climbed to the top of the slide for a third time and is standing up, waving at someone. 

“Come here! Ellie, come on the slide with me!” she calls, waving her arm and a younger girl hurries across from the swings and climbs the stairs, her short legs struggling with the big steps. The older girl instructs the younger to sit down in front, and together they slide down, their high pitched giggles carrying in the clear spring air. It makes your heart clench, the sound and the image so normal, reminding you of the times you’d been at the playground with Frankie and Lucía. 

“C’mon, we should get moving,” Frankie says, pulling his eyes away from the dark haired girl as he takes your hand. His mood is subdued on the way back to the apartment. You tell him about your day and he hooks his arm around your shoulder, listening as you walk through the crowds. But he remains silent, lost in his own thoughts when you stop talking. When you get back home he toes off his shoes and goes to stand in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning on the frame with his arms crossed as you fill a pot of water.  

“Joel and Tommy are gonna partner up with a woman called Tess,” he says after a while, breaking the silence. “Tess has been helping me get spare parts for the clinic and she asked if I’d introduce her to them.” 

You look over at him, you can hear from the tone of his voice that he’s not done. And he confirms it as he drops his gaze, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. 

“Pope and the guys asked if I could help them out on a trade, as a lookout, but they wanted me to talk to you first, make sure you’re ok with it.” 

“Tell me about it,” you say, turning to lean on the counter as he comes over and stands next to you. 

“They’ve got a connection with this guy in Worcester, he’s bringing in supplies on a FEDRA truck, as part of a bigger convoy. They need me to be the lookout when they meet the men inside the QZ. I won’t go outside and I won’t be near the actual trade, just be the lookout.” 

“Do you feel ok about it?” you ask and Frankie nods. 

“Yeah, I wanna help them with this,” he says, turning a bit so that he can look at you. “FEDRA is patrolling more and they need me to warn them if there’s a patrol approaching.” 

“Your nightmares are still really bad though, and sometimes I can’t even wake you up from them, Frankie. If something happens, is it gonna trigger you even more?” 

“If something happens and I’m not there to keep watch, that’s gonna be even worse,” Frankie shakes his head, “They need my help with this. Once they’re done with this they’re gonna lie low, FEDRA’s hanging people over the smallest charge now,  but this trade is too big and they can’t postpone it.” 

“And you’ll only be lookout, away from the actual trade?” you question and Frankie nods again. 

“They have a lookout point nearby, I’ll have a radio and just contact Santi if something happens, that’s it.” 

You lean against the counter while Frankie looks at you, waiting for your answer, for your approval. It makes you realize that he hasn’t done that before, let you make the decision. He’s told you about the plans, listened to your opinion and adjusted the plans and made changes so that you would be more comfortable about letting him go. This time, when what he’s been asked to do really doesn’t seem all that dangerous by comparison, he’s leaving the whole decision up to you. 

“Ok, if you think you’re ready for it, I trust you Frankie, you should help them.” 

“I do, I feel strong enough to do this, thank you cariño,” he steps in front of you and grabs your thighs, hoisting you up onto the counter so that he's standing between your legs. It makes you smile, wrapping your arms around his neck as his hands find your hips, kneading the soft flesh under his fingers. 

“When is it?”

“Thursday…was your skin always this soft here?” he’s running his nose down your neck, pulling back the scruff of your hoodie and burying it just above your clavicle. 

“You’re distracting me, Frankie, I had more questions,” you laugh, his tongue comes out and licks a warm strip across the ridge of the bone. 

“I know, that’s the point,” he mumbles against your skin. 

“Much as I love this horny version of you, you should try and get as much sleep as possible until Thursday, I know how tired you are.” 

“Take me to bed then,” he chuckles, still buried against the crook of your neck, leaving a burning trail of nips and kisses up your throat. 

“We haven’t even had dinner,” you laugh as he tries to make you hook your legs around his waist so that he can pick you up, “Let me make dinner and then I’ll take you to bed for dessert.” 

“My favorite kind of dessert,” he smiles, pulling back from your neck to kiss your mouth, making you part your lips for his tongue. 

“Why don’t you take a nap on the couch while I make dinner, Frankie,” you say when he starts working his way back down along your jaw, “because at this rate, we’re never getting dinner,” you have to giggle when he starts pushing up your shirt, his warm hands palming over your back. 

“Too horny to take a nap now,” he chuckles, but he stands up and lets you slip off the counter. And when you start pulling out ingredients he gives your butt a final squeeze and does go to the couch. It doesn’t take long before you hear his soft snores, when you look over he’s face planted on the couch, one arm dangling off it, the other under his head as a pillow.

…

The trade is set up to take place after dark, and after curfew. Sunset in May in Boston is late so Frankie and the guys make their way to the meeting spot well before the curfew comes into effect and bunker down to wait for darkness. In an off limits building, an old office building near the QZ wall, Pope, Will and Benny have set up a secluded spot for the trade. Now the four of them are in the building across the small square, up on the fifth floor, inside a spacious apartment with a bird’s eye view of the neighborhood, the lookout point. 

The sun is slowly sinking below the horizon while they wait for the agreed upon hour. Benny’s brought an old battered pack of playing cards and they’re killing time by playing rounds of poker. Frankie curses when he loses yet another game, thankful they’re only playing for the silver cutlery Pope found in the apartment's kitchen. The utensils clink as Will drags them across the dining room table after winning his seventh game. 

“Fuck, Will, teach me your ways,” Frankie grumbles, he’s down to two spoons and one knife.

“Skill, Catfish,” Will chuckles, sorting his cutlery into neat piles, “And years of counting numbers.” 

“I just keep getting shit cards,” Benny mutters, tossing his losing hand onto the table with a snap of his wrist, making them scatter. “Your turn to deal, Pope.” 

Pope gathers the cards and quickly deals again, “I’m winning those spoons back, Will, just so you know.” 

“Whatever you say, man, you’re happy to try,” Will chuckles, straightening out the six large spoons he’s got neatly lined up along his eight knives and eight forks. “Just need to get Frankie’s two spoons and I’ve got a full set.” 

After two more rounds, Frankie kicks back his chair and throws his arms up in defeat, “I’m fucking bust.” 

“It’s alright, Fish, Diana and I will be thinking about you when we have dinner tomorrow,” Will smirks, sliding the spoons over to his side of the table. 

Pope looks at his watch and out at the dark night sky, “We should get going, scout the area again and position ourselves.” 

Benny gathers the cards and they all pack up. Frankie makes his way out to the large balcony wrapped around the corner of the building and scans the square and the surrounding streets. 

“All’s quiet out there,” he says in a hushed voice as he comes back in. Pope grabs his radio and turns it to the pre-agreed frequency and tests the connection. 

“I’ll radio you when we’re in position, make sure the connection is clear,” he says, clipping it onto his belt as Frankie does the same with his radio. “And don’t forget our contact is going to signal you when they cross the square.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s all under control,” he nods, waiting while the three men pick up the equipment they’d put by the front door when they came in. Even though it was a trade, old habits die hard, and they all had concealed handguns and backpacks with extra gear. Frankie secures his own gun at the back of his pants and triple checks the battery on the radio before picking up a battered pair of binoculars. 

“Alright, ready to go?” Will asks and the other two nods. “Radio us if there’s anything irregular, Catfish.”

“Stay safe, I’ll see you at the rendezvous soon.” 

Frankie locks up behind the guys as they leave the apartment and hunkers down on the balcony. He’s dragged out some of the less damaged couch pillows and propped them up along the railing and floor, making a nest where he’s hidden from sight. Through a small opening he can scan the streets below, laying flat on his belly with the binoculars in front of him. His nerves are making him jumpy, he’s not used to being without the sleeping pills this long, and it adds an extra layer of stress to the usual laser focus he has during a mission. Even though he’s ‘just’ the lookout he feels the familiar tingling in his spine as he scans the street. 

The radio crackles to life on his belt and Pope’s voice comes through; “Catfish, we’re in position. Do you copy, over?” 

“Loud and clear, Pope. I’m in position, over.”

“Maintain radio silence unless necessary, over.” 

“Wilco, out.” 

He clips the radio back on to his belt and settles down. There’s still about thirty minutes left before the other party is due to turn up, but both Will and Pope like having plenty of margins to work with. He glances at his watch and calculates in his head how long it would take for one of the oxy tablets to kick in. He needs something to sooth his nerves, it’s like he can feel every seam and stitch on every piece of clothing he’s wearing, scratching and grating against his overheated skin. Even his hair is itching where it curls over his ears and he swipes off his cap and pushes it back. Just one oxy, to take the edge off, let him focus while he waits. 

He swallows it dry, almost regretting it as the bitter flavor coats the inside of his mouth. But soon he feels the effect, his body goes loose, the scratching stops. He watches two men hurry across the square, stopping to give a one handed wave three times up towards Frankie’s balcony. The trade is underway, he leans back against the wall. 

It’s so quiet up here. The QZ is always so noisy, so many people in such a small space, up here he can’t hear anything, it’s so peaceful. 

All the people are gone. It’s only him. Up here. 

And these pillows are so soft, they feel like clouds against his face. 

Only him high up in the sky with no noise.

Just soft pillows and soft clothes and darkness behind his eyelids.

Chapter 33

Taglist: @pimosworld @i-own-loki @casa-boiardi @littlenosoul @stormseyer @mxtokko @javicstories @nunya7394 @welcometothepedroverse @harriedandharassed @meveispunk @hiroikegawa @jwritesfanfics @vickie5446 @your-slutty-gf

[nocturnalazure]

News from the front

I have cleaned my saves and my CC with all the tools available. I have updated all the drivers, made sure that I had all the programs possible for an old game like TS3. I have spent hours working on this last weekend, and I have been dreading all week opening my game to check if my efforts have paid (not that I had much time last week anyway...). My test save in Sunset Valley was working without any issue.

Today I haven't had the heart to do a whole story shooting. What if the game crashes again, just when I'm getting into it? So instead, I did some photo shoots in several saves, and I'm working on a video. I didn't stay long in any save but I didn't get any crashes (well, one in Tokyosou but that world has always been unstable so I don't think that's particularly concerning).

I'm using a new program for this video (Filmora) and while I was reluctant to have to learn something new, it actually turned out to be fun and pretty user-friendly. It also has a thousand more effects and animations than my good old Movie Maker! I am not quite done, and I'm still getting around to learning how it all works, so I don't know if the end result will be satisfactory but at least, it's gotten me back on track! As a consequence, I may be a bit more active again on here. :)

As for the next update, even if my game turns out to be up and running again, I'm not quite sure if I'll be able to do much in the next few weeks. I have a shitload to do at work, and I'm leaving on holidays in 2 weeks. I doubt I'll have the time to both shoot and write a whole update in that time frame. :/ We'll see, maybe my muse will visit me and I'll have a surge of creativity!

I'm sorry that I haven't replied to those who have supported me in the comments throughout all my computer ordeal, rest assured that all of your kind words have been read and went straight to my heart.

Hugs,

Noctie

[hwaslayer]

wildfire (cs) | intro.

—spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: assistant professor in bioengineering, incredibly attractive, lonely and divorced; that’s how most people describe san. but despite the events that have happened in his life, san has a lot going for himself. he’s a successful, sought out professor due to his brilliant contributions to science at just an early age of 32. he worked hard to get where he was now; head deep into his research, his publications, building his lab and creating a name for himself. everything was good and smooth sailing— until it wasn’t. because when he meets you, a bioengineering grad student interested in rotating in his lab, he finds himself ready to risk all the blood, sweat and tears he put in throughout the years just to keep you close— his need for you spiraling out of control like a wildfire.

—pairing: asst. professor!choi san x grad student!f. reader

—genre: (18+ - minors dni) strangers to lovers, grad school au | fluff, angst, eventual smut

—word count: 2.0k

—warnings: nothing much; cussing, very general description of research topics/neuroscience experiments including mentions of mice research (no details)!, mentions of infidelity (not oc or san)

—a/n: ty for being patient with me <33 here's the lil intro to professor choi 🤪 i think i'll keep the same update schedule i've had (every other weekend) but ofc will let everyone know if i cant update for whatever reason!! enjoyyyy this rideeee 🖤

Clunk.

San throws his glasses onto his desk before leaning back in his chair, hands coming up behind his head for a stretch. He had been working on his progress report for one of his grants since this morning, and he was starting to feel the migraine come on.

"Fuck." He mutters, pinching at the bridge of his nose before he gets up to grab another cup of coffee from his Nespresso machine— popping in a pod with a level 9 intensity into the slot and pressing start. It's around dinner time, but quite frankly, San isn't too hungry. He'll eat something small. He's just tired, especially because of this progress report. But, it's due next week and he needs to finalize his class schedule for the upcoming quarter at the same time. He won't have as much time to get through the technicalities if he waits any longer.

He's pretty immune to the different intensities of coffee at this point; having eaten it for breakfast, lunch and dinner during his postdoc years. It won't do much for long, but it'll at least keep him going for the next couple of hours before he calls it a day and lays in bed. 

When his coffee is done, he pours some creamer into his mug and gives it a good stir before settling back into his office. His house is too big for one person, but he enjoys the stillness. The quiet. He used to hate it. He used to hate when every corner reminded him of his ex-wife. Now, he's gotten used to it. He's learned how to live alone, how to enjoy his peace. He lets out a small sigh, taking a sip of his hot coffee as he resumes to look at the computer screen to his side. Suddenly, his phone goes off and he's quick to shift his attention to it because it's slightly odd for this time of day. People don't normally call him unless he's settled on a phone call meeting ahead of time, and he doesn't remember booking any calls tonight.

"Hey." San picks up when he realizes it's Jongho. Okay, so he maybe he lied. He does take a few calls from close friends, most who are also professors at the same university. "What's up?"

"How's your T15 report going?"

"Long. It's terrible."

"Well." Jongho laughs. "Perks of being you, I guess." San rolls his eyes. 

"Yeah, thanks. Very enlightening."

"Anyways, I wanted to call really quickly. I figured you hadn't seen it yet, but wanted to put it on your radar. I looped you into an email for a possible collaboration. We're trying to meet this week if you're free. Might be good to see what it's worth, could get us more funding. Open more collaboration opportunities in the future." San presses the phone against his ear, holding it with his shoulder as he navigates to his inbox on his computer. He has a bunch of unread emails that he'll eventually respond to, paying a tad more attention to the pressing ones when he has a moment. He's not gonna lie, he does ignore a few if it's not of interest to him, or something he doesn't feel like he can contribute much to. He'll typically respond with a 'so sorry, no can do' if people get pushy and constantly follow up, but for the most part, he does his best to keep up and respond where it's warranted.

San sees the email Jongho is speaking of, but right underneath it, he sees another email from a student inquiring about rotating in his lab for the upcoming quarter. He's always interested when students reach out to rotate in his lab, but he can't accommodate all, especially when he doesn't feel like his research aligns with their goals. He usually takes 1 per quarter if it fits, otherwise, he doesn't have any at all. 

Out of curiosity, he clicks on the email since it has been awhile since anyone rotated in his lab. 

From: yn@atz.edu To: choisan@atz.edu Dear Professor Choi, I hope this email finds you well. My name is Y/N, and I'm currently a bioengineering grad student who is interested in rotating in your lab for the upcoming quarter. I have been thinking about diving deeper into computational analysis, mice behavior, 2-photon excitation and opto-stim work. I've spoken to your postdocs, Sunwoo and Belle, about their current projects and potentially collaborating since they seem to be touching up on all these aspects. I was hoping we can find a time to meet and chat a bit to see if it would be a good fit. The deadline to submit my rotation selections is coming up, so I'd like to make sure we meet beforehand. Let me know, happy to work with your schedule! Best, Y/N Y/L/N

The thing about San is that he's pretty good at picking up on a student's vibe through their emails. It's the tone, the professionalism, the way they write and carry themselves. He can tell when some people are a little more egotistical and ignorant, and he doesn't want people like that in his rather small, but mighty lab. His current grad students and postdocs all get along well, and they're bright people who are very passionate about their work and studies. He doesn't need people thinking they're above the others. In addition to that, he can also tell when students are just trying to get their name on a published paper doing work in his lab, or when they're just trying to wing their way through grad school. It's a shame, but he definitely has come across a few students in his inbox. They do exist.

You, though? He's intrigued. You seem bright. Genuinely passionate about the specific areas you're interested in diving into. Poised. He appreciates that. He quickly scans over your CV and the little blurb at the bottom that highlights the work you've done in your undergrad years and internships. Your work history. He sees that you've already dipped your toes in a few of the different areas you've mentioned. Worked with a few professors he knows. You've volunteered at a couple of places.

An all-rounder.

"Did you see it?" He almost forgets he's on the phone with Jongho.

"Mm, yeah. I'll respond in a bit, I think I can meet on Thursday. Sorry, I just got a little distracted. Saw another email about a potential rotation student."

"Gonna take one on this quarter?"

"Maybe. If it fits. She seems to be interested in a lot of the work we do. She knows Sunwoo and Belle."

"Oh, nice. That'll be cool."

"What about you? Taking on a rotation student?" Jongho is an assistant professor in the electrical engineering department, and he is often bombarded with inquiries himself. He usually always has a rotation student, and they almost always choose his lab to work in after their rotation program is up. San doesn't blame them— Jongho is brilliant, and his work creates a lot of different pathways for students to navigate and try. San's can be a hit or miss; it's quite niched, and students often find that it genuinely is tough to play around in his field.

"Yeah. Think so." 

"Alright. Thanks for giving me a heads up. I'll check my calendar and respond in a bit for sure." San eyes the email. "It does sound like a good collaboration."

"Figured you'd say that. Thanks, my guy! Take it easy and good luck on your progress report."

"Appreciate it." San gives off a toothless smile even though Jongho can't see him. He slides his phone off to the side and checks his calendar, upholding his promise to Jongho about responding to the email ASAP. He keeps his email short, letting the group know he can make the meeting at the desired time on Thursday to talk about the potential collaboration across labs.

Then, he pulls up your email and checks his calendar once more.

From: choisan@atz.edu To: y/n@atz.edu Hi Y/N, Thanks for your email - for sure! I think there's a lot of possibilities we could visit, especially with Belle and/or Sunwoo's projects. Can you pop into my office on Tuesday morning? 10am good? We can chat then. — San

"Oh shit." You slow your chewing when you see the email notification pop up on your screen during dinner.

"What?" Felix asks, turning his attention towards you and causing Jiung and Eunchae to do the same.

"Professor Choi answered my email."

"That was quick." Jiung takes forkful of food into his mouth.

"Professor Choi as in San or Jongho? Cause they're both hotties." Eunchae swoons and twirls her hair, making Felix scrunch his nose.

"San." 

"I'd kill to be a rotation student in their labs." Eunchae giggles. "What'd he say?"

"To meet him at his office on Tuesday to chat more."

"Well, that's good! Which other labs were you looking at?"

"I'm not sure. Song Mingi, Kang Yeosang, Jeong Yunho. Kim Namjoon—"

"Isn't Professor Choi's ex-wife with Professor Jeong now?" Jiung looks up with a squint.

"Yeah, apparently when it all went down, it was a mess." Felix chimes in, and you continue to type away at your phone. "Imagine your wife having an affair with your bestfriend."

"Harsh." Jiung does a head tilt.

"I guess they don't interact much anymore, do they? Seems to be water under the bridge."

"I don't think so, but Professor Lee works in the Chemical Engineering department so they might have to from time to time if students in her lab wanna be co-advised or collaborate with him. Professor Jeong, though."

"Awkward. At least they can keep it civil." Felix shrugs at Eunchae's response.

"They lowkey have no choice." Felix looks up in thought before shrugging. "Still sucks to know your bestfriend was involved."

"Seriously." You add.

"Either way, those are good labs to possibly rotate in. It'd be cool if you could get into Namjoon's lab. Heard he's cool as fuck even though he's the department chair." Felix tosses his napkin into his empty paper bowl.

"Yeah, same. I'll keep you guys updated." You send off your response to Professor Choi with a small sigh. "There. Hopefully my rotation will be settled for the quarter."

From: yn@atz.edu To: choisan@atz.edu Hi Professor Choi, Yes, I can meet you at 10am on Tuesday. Thank you, and see you then! Best, Y/N

"Maybe you'll get more out of the rotation, especially with Professor Choi." Eunchae nudges your side and you let out a small yelp before you playfully pinch her bicep.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jiung snorts.

"I'm just saying, he's successful. A hottie. Young. Single—"

"Here she goes." Felix lets out a breath.

"Bro. Calm down." Jiung laughs. "He's still a professor."

"What if you two get close during rotation and he falls in love with you?" She looks at you ever so seriously. 

"Relax." Felix laughs. "What kinda movie did we fall into?"

"Eunchae, please." You poke her cheek. "You know we rarely ever see the professors in lab. We get like.. five minute meetings with them and that's about as much of a personal interaction we'll get. They're busy people. Sorry to burst your bubble, bae." She shrugs.

"It was fun to think about." She giggles. "But no, that'll be a good experience for you if you get to join his lab for rotation. The others are great, too. Is he your first choice for a dissertation advisor, though?"

"As of now, yeah. But, we'll see how it all goes."

"Keep us updated." Jiung sips some water. "I think I need to reach out to one more professor for this quarter. Needa figure out my shit before classes start."

"Same." 

Meanwhile, San sees the notification from your email pop up in the corner of his screen and he immediately presses on it. He smiles a bit when he realizes how easy scheduling that meeting was— most of the time, people say they'll work with his schedule but end up pushing back. He slots you into his calendar before he can forget and switches his attention back to the progress report he's close to finishing up. 

San thinks it'll be nice to host a rotation student again, as the experience has always been useful, eventful, productive. He thinks it'll be like any other time; the experience being useful, eventful. Productive. He trusts in his group, the students, to come up with great ideas and be able to execute from start to finish.

So, he doesn't think much of it. He thinks he can hand you off and trust you with Belle and Sunwoo.

Little does he know that's where he gets it all wrong.

—taglist: @asjkdk @interweab @woojirang @svintsandghosts @cheolliehugs @persphonesorchid @mxnsxngie @jycas @cowboydk @vcutparis @chngbnwf @struggling101 @sanhwalvr @lynnsqueendom

[bergdg]

Analyzing Invention: Jan-Aug 2024

We are now two-thirds through 2024. Each week, a new challenge has appeared as part of the Inventor's Fair, a Magic: the Gathering card design contest blog here on Tumblr.

For the uninitiated, each week, a design challenge is announced on the blog and members of the community create cards meeting the design specifications. At the end of the week, a few winners and runner-ups are selected from the submission.

So let's take a look at some of the trends so far this year - January through August.

Art. Katerina of Myra's Marvels. Illustrated by Gaboleps

The Contests

Through August, there have been 33 contests: 11 being led by @abelzumi, 10 being led by @spooky-bard, and the rest led by an assortment of judges (Note: there were 6 contest in which the judge didn't identify themselves).

Throughout these 33 contests, there have been 723 entries, spread over 110 unique participants. Of those participants, there have been 17 who have submitted at least 17 submissions (50+% participation). A special shout-out to @nine-effing-hells for their 33 submissions.

On average, there have been 22 participants per contest, with the highest being Common Wonders (30 participants) and the lowest being a tie between My Better Half, War Never* Changes and Spoiled for Choice (16 participants).

Fig. 1 - Line Graph of the Number of Entries Per Contest. Blue dots represent the number of entries for a contest, and the green line represents the 3-contest average.

The Submissions

As previously mentioned, there have been 723 unique entries (some of which had multiple designs, such as all the ones submitted for My Better Half).

In previous evaluations, we looked at all sorts of data: such as card types, mana value, and rarities. While prepping for this iteration, I asked what folks would like to see. The request: let's see some color breakdowns. So let's deep-dive!

Starting off, let's look at general color identities. If they are at least partial in the color, they'll be included here. In order:

Black: 232

Blue: 224

Red: 215

White: 211

Green: 156

Most of the colors are pretty close in the number of entries, except poor ol' green. This is the same from what we saw in the January-April update as well. (The order then was almost the exact same, with just blue and black swapping places).

The pattern is similar when we look at solely mono color entries, with Blue and Red swapping places:

Black: 91

Red: 87

Blue: 83

White: 80

Green: 55

Fig. 2 - Image of Kermit the Frog, with text saying "It's not easy bein' green".

Now let's dip into a well we haven't before: multi-color entries!

Based on our general color tendencies, you might think Dimir (blue-black) OR Rakdos (black-red) would be in the top spot. And while they do make a good showing (at #2 and #4 respectively), the top spot might surprise you:

Orzhov (W B): 35

Dimir (U B): 34

Izzet (U R): 30

Rakdos (B R): 26

Azorius (W U): 24

Boros (R W): 23

Simic (G U): 22

Gruul (R G): 20

Selesnya (G W): 16

Golgari (B G): 13

Unsurprisingly, all 4 green guilds were lowest on the list. I was surprised that Golgari was lowest though, with the general black designs being the most prominent.

For three colors, most of the 10 options are fairly close, between 3 and 5 entries each. The slight stand-out was Abzan (W B G) with 6. There has been only a single 4-color design, Atraxa's Command designed by @khyrberos (g w u b), and four 5-color designs.

There have also been 35 colorless cards designed. I'll give a note here on lands - since we are looking a color identity and not mana cost, many lands are in a color bucket, not just here in colorless land.

Well, that about sums things up for this time around. It's always cool to see everyone's submissions each week as part of the @inventors-fair! Y'all are awesome, and I can't wait to see what designs you come up with through the end of the year. And maybe, just maybe, think about adding some green :).

[oh-no-its-bird]

Ok so updated list of my WIPS;

Actually in progress;

- Offal and All (Kakashi's relationship with food throughout the years, mostly told through the eyes of others) I'm activley focusing on this one rn and hoping to post it like, this week actually. It's a mash up of a lot of different tiny Kakashi hc's I've posted about and should be very fun (and depressing, but that's kind of my brand, so.)

- One Step Three Steps chapter 10, it's going well so far actually I just keep writing it at work then being forced to stop bc like. Work. Might go up this week, hopefully

- Chasing Shadows chapter 4, it's like 20% done? Ish? I just need to find the head space to get back to writing it, will go up within the next 2 weeks for sure but idk when exactly. It'll be great tho ur gonna get Hikaku, Fugaku, Shisui, Mikoto, just all the cool Uchiha. Lots of politics, lots of drama, the works

- Itama and the secret senju weed empire fic,,,, it will be long and it will be beautiful which means it'll take me forever to do, sorry

- Magical Girl Izuna AU (my beloved) I got distracted by other projects midway through writing chapter 1 but I'll get there eventually

- Little lab mystery where kid edo-tensei reincarnations of Madara and Tobirama wake up with no memories and immediately stage a jail break

- Nin burger!!!!! Yes this is a real thing yes I meant to post it like the same week I started making it but then I got distracted and didn't. But I swear to fucking GOD I will see it complete. Nin Burger is my favorite real naruto restaurant that is real

- That one oneshot where Madara and Tobirama spend a festival night in the capital together as children, and Madara develops his very first crush on the fox masked boy, but seems to be doomed never to meet him again— till Konoha's first festival is held and he sees a man wearing the very same mask, waiting for him in the crowds. Might not actually finish this one tbh but also maybe I'll save it for tbmd week?? Idk

Considering / Planning;

- Hikaku as the Uchiha clan head after Madara's betrayal comic,,, not an actual fic but I wanna make this so bad. I've written notes for it I just need to get along to drawing it

- Izuna in Wonderland comic, honestly I'll probably end up doing the entire thing in one go one night when I get hit in the face w a brick w motivation. So it'll be a surprise for both u guys and me when I post that! I always do my comics in one go bc I physically can't bring myself to return to art projects if interrupted, which means I tend to do longer ones on my days off where I have literally nothing else to do or distract me, but I haven't had one of those in like. 2 months now. So. But I will soon!! Umm. Maybe.

- Here Before and After Me chapter 2, I'll probably make one eventually but who tf knows when. I have a very specific vision of Kakashi following Tobirama onto the battlefield and scaring the shit out of a very alarmed and confused Izuna

- Tobirama and Izuna's field trip through time and space, I don't think I want to commit to a full fic bc it'd be seriously long and I'm already commiting to Chasing Shadows and One Step Three Steps as my regular update long fics, then the MG Izuna au and Itama fic as my "write it all behind the scenes then post" long fics. One shots only for me, sorry. But I do wanna write a silly one shot of the boys crash landing face first into a konoha council meeting during their field trip

Dropped / Abandoned;

- That one mdtb space mermaid au, rip. Maybe I'll come back to u one day but for now I have a lot to focus on, sorry

- mdtb fish in a pond fic where Tobirama is half spirit and turns into a koifish that Tajima then brings home and tosses into the families koi pond

I think that's everything? I have a shit memory and do everything on my notes app then forget to categorize the notes half the time so I honestly wouldn't be surprised if I'd lost smthn else in my like billion different notes.

Those are the important ones tho, so, good enough!

[thomotomo]

Quackity x Male Reader pt.1

Summary: You're a French streamer who got invited to the QSMP and you just have a huge crush on Quackity, even though you wouldn't admit it.

CW: Use of Quackity's real name a few times.

A/N: Sorry I'm showing up every few months to drop you something and then I'm letting yall starve so today you get Quackity content cos I got a crush on him now lol. (And I need to feel some love cos I'm single af. Also I'm sorry I wrote this instead of sleeping lol)

You had been so excited when you received the invitation to join the server, as a language nerd you couldn't wait to hear people discuss in a multitude of languages.

You had gotten addicted to playing on the server from the first seconds and so you stayed up until very late at night.

So since you had a completely fucked up schedule the two of you were bound to hang out together a lot.

And so the two of you kept talking more and more outside streams and outside of QSMP, staying up late on discord calls, chatting and playing together.

You had gotten an invitation to the Twitchcon and while you had been hesitant to participate you had ended up accepting to be able to meet everyone.

So you asked Quackity if he was planning to come and while he hadn't planned it at first you were trying to push him to come join you and meet everyone IRL.

He had told you he didn't knew about it yet but he would keep you updated.

You were on stream one night, completely engrossed in your build when your phone shone, it was a discord notification from Alex.

You couldn't read it as you were mid-stream but you made sure to take a break to refill your desk with drink and to check it out.

As you were taking sodas out of your fridge you checked the message Quackity had sent you.

Your face immediately lit up as you read that he would come to Twitchcon Paris.

It had been very late for you but now with the excitement coursing through your veins you didnt feel like sleeping anymore.

You settled back in front of your cam, your grin a little bit wider than earlier and hopefully it wasn't noticed by anyone.

You kept playing for a couple more of hours and as soon as you ended stream you texted him to see if you could jump on a call.

The two ended up on call and you stayed up, discussing excitedly together. You were stimming a lot as you did, even though you didn't show that to him

And yeah, maybe you had developed a tiny bit of a crush on him throughout all of those months (but you wouldn't admit that to anyone).

For the next few weeks all you could think of was Twitchcon so you kind of drown yourself into your work so that time would goes on by quicker.

On the 8th of July you could barely function like a normal person, as soon as you woke up you sent a message to Alex "We're meeting today omg?!?!?!?" (yeah you clearly aren't the most subtle when you have a crush on someone).

He had texted you back the cutest picture of himself you had seen and it just felt to you that your heart was about to explode due to all the emotions you felt so early in the morning.

You prepared yourself and went to the venue, you had put on your best clothes (well best clothes for the heat).

You met up with some of the other French streamers, discussing for a good while as they were the only one present so early.

You didn't have anything planned to do until much later so you enjoyed the early hours of the convention by browsing the shops and artists' alley.

At noon you went and ate with all of the other QSMP content creators present, chatting excitedly with everyone. You were very happy to talk with them and even though you had chatted a lot in private messages it clearly wasn't the same thing now.

You had sent to Quackity the pictures all of you took together alongside the message "We're just waiting for you now."

Which he replied to with "Dw I'll be there soon!"

And you couldn't wait for him to be there.

After the meal you had the meet and greet.

You had enjoyed meeting all of your fans and right as you left the meeting area, you checked your phone and seeing a notification from Alex you couldn't help but grin, you were sure of one thing, he was here at the venue.

You had to restrain yourself from running, but if your pace was a tad faster than usual if was between you and yourself.

As you reached the backstages you could see Etoiles, Philza and Aypierre alongside Forever who was hugging Quackity.

You joined them quietly as you watch the two other guys hug each other and joke around.

You discussed with Etoiles, laughing together as you watched Forever do the "pay the server dance" to Quackity.

A few minutes later the two separated and you beamed at Alex when he turned back towards where you and the others were.

He harboured a shocked but excited face when he saw you and both of you also jumped into each other's arms, laughing together.

You couldn't help but notice that he was a bit smaller than you, which you hadn't expected but you didn't care.

The two of you immediately jumped into conversation with each other, the conversation flowing as easily as it was over computer.

Pt2

[soulsisterif]

Progress Update

I just wanted to let you know that despite not being very active on Tumblr lately I'm still working on the game. Very slowly, admittedly, because real life is draining me, but still...

Remember when I wrote in the pinned post that this was a self-indulgent game? Well, this is what I meant, and I'm having way too much fun with it.

Or...

I should probably be actually writing, but I'm afraid the main point of this project is for me to have fun so... Sorry if idiocies like this make the demo take longer, people. Which reminds me, apologies to everyone who has sent an ask that has yet to be answered, but those are taking a backseat as of lately.

I just want the summer to end so that I can finally have a break from work. I swear, working service in a country that's flooded by tourists every year is a special kind of punishment. Everything is so crowded that there's barely any space for thinking. Not to mention parking. Ugh.

But back on track, of course the tweets trills, I mean... The web is called Triller, after all, *coughs*. Whatever. The trills would also chage depending on your choices. The hardest part is the custom name of your MC... Honestly I was tempted to just give you some names to choose from and that's that but I understand tipying in your custom name is one of the big appeals of IF games so... I gues I'll try to make an option to set a nickname for the MC early on and make several versions of the trills so it fits.

The point is I want the contestants to be shown the audience's reaction to what's happening in the house and throughout all the show, really, since everything from the day you apply is being recorded. I was thinking about Dawn showing some online reactions to the contestants at the end of each day. Or maybe week, I don't know. It's quite a lot of extra work considering that I have to write exclusive messages for all the different possible conversations and developments but... Damn, it's so worth it. I just have a blast with this crap. Oh, I could add memes! And once the audience knew their messages could reach the contestants I could make them actually ask things. Pot stirring from the outside!

[baileys-3]

NEW CHAPTER ONLINE on AO3 - CHAPTER 14

I can't say it enough...and I'll say it again before every chapter...thanks to Cookies93 for beta reading. The chapter is always much better afterwards.

So, we're still in the week-long dating era between episode 5x10 and 5x11. I can reveal one thing. I have completed Chapter 24. And here we are in 5x11. So, you still have a lot to read and I hope you continue to do so and enjoy it.

I don't know if I'll be able to stick to the one-day update schedule until the end of the story. I'll try it. It's quite a lot of work and spend hours writing. And sometimes things go more smoothly and the chapter almost writes itself. And sometimes you hang. I'm a little stuck right now. Maybe because I have to incorporate 5x11. I always find it easier when I can write freely. But it will be okay. And then I popped up another story in my brain and it almost wrote itself. That's why I simply wrote 13,000 words on this one in the last two days. And that's really a lot. But this will only be available once Secret Datin Era is finished. One after another. All I can say is that it will be tearful. I have to cry while writing this.

______

Sneak Peak after the link

_____

Tim is standing in his bathroom, about to hang up his towel to dry after his shower. He really had forgotten about the basketball match against the LAFD. This was clearly because his only thought was about finally seeing Lucy after spending the last two evenings separately. He had completely forgotten that it was the first Thursday of the month. And as much as he enjoys playing basketball with the boys, he would have loved to meet Lucy instead.

At least they won the game. And Gillespie was right. If the firefighters had won, it would have been a shame for the LAPD team. As usual, they celebrated with some beer alongside the LAFD guys – since it’s tradition.

Throughout the day, he has exchanged several text messages with Lucy. As expected, Lucy had sent the first message right after their lunch break, and she had to hit a nerve, of course.

He goes into his bedroom and puts on a T-shirt and his pajama pants, then lies down on the bed, takes his phone and starts reading through all the messages again with a huge grin on his face.

Lucy: You forgot your 🏀 -match? 🤣

Tim: I was confused when the garbage bins were collected one day later than usual. Basketball day is always two days after paper waste collection day.

Lucy: Of course 🤥

Tim: What are implying?

Lucy: Nothing. What are you implying???

Tim: You're driving me crazy!

Lucy: I know 😉

Tim: That's not what I meant.

Lucy: Oh yes it was! It was!

Tim: Texting with you is no fun.

Lucy: Miss you 😘 Better?

Tim: For a start. Still a bit skimpy.

Lucy: Miss you a lot ❤️

Tim: Better, but still room for improvement

Lucy: Uh oh Bradford. Slow down.