#they’re just in my drafts so I guess I’ll start pushing them out

[scoops-aboy86]

Secret Admirer

Steddie Week 2024, July 1: Mystery / secret relationship / One Night Alone by Vixen

wc: 2131 / rated: T / set between seasons 2 and 3 / also on ao3

cw: negative self talk (steve), allusions to unhealthy use of drugs and alcohol (eddie), and one horny paragraph

In the first few letters, Eddie had tried to disguise his handwriting. It occurred to him after a while, though, that there would be no reason for someone like Steve Harrington to recognize it, so he stopped. And he was right, nothing happened. 

Steve hasn’t figured out the secret admirer letters he kept answering were written by none other than the official Freak of Hawkins High. Hell, Steve hasn’t even worked out that he’s a he. Though a few vaguely worded sentences every now and then suggest that Steve might not be assuming she either, which is…interesting. Possibly nothing, but interesting all the same. And Eddie knows he’s probably just stringing himself along by doing this, but he’s about to repeat his senior year of high school for the third goddamn time and this is a better option than drinking or dipping into the harder stuff that Reefer Rick expects him to sell. Broken heart likely, but at least he doesn’t wake up with a headache or the shakes.

Now it’s well into summer, and the PO Box he’d had since he was sixteen (for Blueboys and other mags that would get him equally tarred and feathered if anyone finds out) gets mail every damn day.

Eddie looks down at the most recent letter, rereading it for the hundredth time with a joint in one hand, several empty beer cans littering the bedspread and floor of his room around him. 

Dear Secret Admirer, Hey, I’m sorry if I came on too strong in my last couple of letters. I get why you don’t want to tell me who you are. We probably went to high school together, right? You don’t write like a middle schooler and no one who graduates sticks around in this stupid town besides me. I guess that makes me stupid means you probably knew me when I was still a douchebag. Sorry about that. I hope I never said anything to you or let Tommy push you around. Except I don’t know why you would’ve started writing to me in the first place if I had? It’s not like I would’ve written back if I was still that popular guy who everyone talked to and thought was so cool. Yeah, I admit it, I thought I was hot shit back then too! But it turns out, they only give you the spotlight as long as you don’t put a toe out of line. Don’t point out when they’re being assholes. You wouldn’t believe the kind of shit some people will say when they think you already agree with them about everything.  Anyway, I’m trying to be better now. Genuinely, if I’m not, if I’ve been an asshole in these letters at all, please tell me. And it’s not like I’m tired of writing to you, I just. Wouldn’t getting to talk in person be even better? Or we don’t even have to talk, if you don’t want to, that’s okay! You can come by Scoops and tell me it’s you and I’ll give you a free ice cream cone or something, whatever you want. Because actions speak louder than words, right? You keep sending me all these nice letters, and I’m not the best with words so I want to give you something too. (I don’t mean that like That wasn’t a come-on, I swear. Shit, I should rewrite this again but this is already the fifth draft, it’s not getting any better than this. Sorry.) — Steve PS, I don’t know if you have been to Scoops already, but if you’ve seen my coworker’s whiteboard I swear I’m not interested just because I keep striking out. Turns out I don’t actually know how to talk to girls without being weird. It’s weird being done with high school and not have that stuff in common to talk about, and I used to be this cool guy that I’m really not anymore so I panic and all this bullshit (who am I kidding) bullshit comes out my mouth and it’s EMBARRASSING. Anyway. I really like your letters, it’s been great having someone to talk to even if it’s not really talking a face to face thing, and I’m not just saying that because I’m kind of a loser now. Anyway, have a nice day! Fuck, Robin is right, I SUCK

The first bullshit in the postscript is crossed out so hard there’s a tear in the paper. All the scribbled out bits are borderline illegible, like Steve really tried, but Eddie can still make out most of it and can guess the rest from context. The very last word, for example, is totally obscured, but he has seen the You Rule / You Suck board, so. Yeah.

It makes his heart ache, the way Steve talks about himself sometimes. The way his insecurities bleed through artlessly on the page like coffee stains. Eddie alternates between wanting to wrap him up in soft things to protect him from whatever sharpness left him so cut open, and wanting to smother him with kisses for the bravery in being so genuine with a nameless, faceless stranger. 

Except Steve isn’t his. Steve is straight, for all he’s apparently being kind enough not to make assumptions, and could never want Eddie in the same way. And it’s not fair, the hanging back that Eddie’s been doing, holding out now that Steve has come to look forward to his letters just because of a little (huge, massive, life-threatening) fear of rejection. 

He’s been dragging his heels so long that Steve is feeling rejected, and that just won’t do. 

Sighing, Eddie takes another long drag before stubbing the remaining nub of the joint out. Scrubs his hands across his face and considers getting another beer. Or maybe forgetting the corner he’s backed himself into, with Steve wanting to meet—not only to satisfy the curiosity of knowing who his secret admirer is, but because he actually seems to like the person writing to him. (Actually wrote that they didn’t have to talk if Eddie didn’t want to, Jesus H. Christ, why did he have to be such a fucking sweetheart about that?) 

It’s late, and he’s already stripped restlessly down to just his boxers for bed. He could push it all aside, push his hands down the front of his underwear and get lost in different thoughts about Steve for a while, for the trillionth time. God knows that always works to clear his head, sometimes twice if he’s ambitious about it, enough for sleep to take him. 

Instead, Eddie drops the letter on his bed and hunts around on his desk for a notebook he can stand to tear a few more pages out of. Once he has what he needs, he chews on the end of his pen for several minutes  before putting it to the paper.

Steve, my beloved, It has been some time since I’ve replied. My deepest apologies for that, as it seems like you’ve taken that to mean something I absolutely did not intend. I received all of your letters, and “too strong” is not how I would describe them. They were lovely, sweetheart. I have reread them many times, I have slept with them under my pillow, I have cried happy tears over them for the thought that you might actually share my affection enough to want so badly to know who I am.  Very quickly, to address some of your questions and concerns: One, we did share some years in high school, yes, and I’m pleased to read that you think my writing is at a level appropriate to someone approximately our age. (I wish more of my teachers shared that view, but alas, I’m pretty sure that most of them hate me. Except for the drama teacher, who would let me get away with murder as long as I didn’t stain or break any of his props with the act.) Two, Hagan was a dick, but more to my friends than me directly, and the worst you ever did was laugh when I dropped my books a few times, that sort of thing. Water under the bridge, fuck high school, etc. etc.. Three, you have not engaged in any assholery in your writing, or in any of your actions that I’ve seen in a long time.  And four… you should’ve left the double entendre (i.e. the “I want to give you something too”); I wouldn’t have minded.  Obviously I think of you as prime boyfriend material—thoughtful, good sense of humor and humility, and whenever those younger kids swing by to pester you at the mall you put up a good front of being exasperated and annoyed, but through all that I can tell you care about them. (They say never trust someone who would hurt an animal, it works for kids too.)  But you’re also a total smoke show, baby. The effortless way you moved around the basketball court, same as in the water when you were still on the swim team, and in those indecently tiny shorts. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about running my fingers up the inside of those thighs. Or my mouth. Whichever you think you’d like best, baby, I’m not picky. And while I do like ice cream, particularly strawberry with rainbow sprinkles in a cone, I can think of something else I’d love to wrap my hand around and run my tongue over before any drips can escape. You just think about that, hmm? Maybe share some of those thoughts in your reply, if I haven’t scared you off with this paragraph.  It was a relief to write that, to be honest. I am not without my fantasies, you see; in a lot of ways, they’re all I have. The real reason I’ve been hesitant to respond to all of your heartfelt entreaties to meet, sweetheart, is that I’m afraid. I’ve been head over heels for you for so long—for your looks before anything else, I’ll admit, but the douchebag boy from high school that you mentioned is long gone. A man stands in his place, and what a man you are. In writing to you, I wanted to make clear first and foremost how ardently I admire and love you, lest my feelings be mistaken for mere tawdry teen lust.  And hopefully I’ve succeeded. If so, can you see now how actions can be carved in with the words? It is the intent that shines through, and I can read in between the lines, Steve, that you are being genuinely honest with yours. All those disparaging remarks you made about yourself in your last letter, both crossed out and not, are probably you being too hard on yourself, but they speak to the fact that you both understand you’ve made mistakes in the past and are trying to pay penance for them. That, along with your fantastic hair and magnificent ass, are just a few of the reasons I remain, as always— Your Secret Admirer P.S. I don’t mind weird. Like it, even. Bring it on, big boy.  P.P.S.  If all I could ever have with you is one night alone, I’d take it and be grateful.

Eddie’s letter is almost twice as long as Steve’s, but whatever. That’s par for the course; he never expected Steve to be much of a wordsmith, even though the guy is clearly putting in a lot of effort. Writes drafts, apparently. Unlike Eddie, who bangs all that out in pretty much one go and merely skims it before sliding it in an envelope, sealing it in, slapping on a stamp and address, and throwing it off the bed. 

Then he falls into bed and strips his dick to the thought of Steve reading the letter and thinking about his mouth, half in a hot anonymous way and half in some imaginary reality where Steve knows it’s him and wants this just as badly. Of Steve groaning out how good it feels and maybe wanting to hold him after, fall asleep together, like they’re…

The next morning (or afternoon, whatever, it’s summer vacation), Eddie reviews his slightly fuzzy memory of the letter after stepping on the envelope and realizing, oh, right. Overly verbose and dramatic, the way he always is but even more so when tipsy. And… fuck it. One horny paragraph, he decides, won’t be the end of the world. Maybe it will scare Steve off; maybe he’ll enjoy it. Let fate decide, just like at the dnd table. 

Eddie shoves the envelope into the mail drop box just outside the trailer park gate on his way into town and sends a prayer out to no god in particular that he hasn’t just rolled a nat one.

~

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @tangerinesteve

Tagging some folks who expressed interest about this story in my Wiggly Wednesday post last week, let me know if you don't want to be tagged going forward: @steviewashere @cryingglightningg @theresebelivett @sleepy-steve

@rozzieroos @lunaraindrop @just-my-latest-hyperfixation

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Excellent Bugle episode this week, episode 4311. I’d wondered for the last couple of days why it hadn’t come out, because they’re usually recorded around Saturday and released on Mondays. This one came out on Wednesday, and as soon as I started listening to it, of course I understood why. They presumably waited a couple of extra days to record to see if more news would unfold in the Trump situation, so they wouldn’t have to talk about something that people knew nothing about.

I guess it’s also worth taking a bit of time to plan your wording instead of responding to that incident immediately after it happens. Find a way to say both “Obviously you shouldn’t assassinate people” and “We still hate that guy though”, strike the balance in a way that won’t have the Daily Mail announcing WOKE SOCIALIST COMEDIANS SUPPORT POLITICALLY-MOTIVATED MURDER AND JACK BLACK WON’T MAKE MUSIC WITH THEM ANYMORE. I think they did a pretty good job of avoiding that, though Andy might have toed the line a little when he read out a list of victims of successful assassinations who deserved to die less than Trump did. I enjoyed that list.

Anyway, I was pleased when the episode appeared in my podcast app this morning, and even more pleased when I clicked and saw the lineup. Andy Zaltzman, Tom Ballard, Chris Addison. Tom Ballard hasn’t been on The Bulge in a while so it was nice to have him back – he was there in person, as he’s doing WIPs in London right now. Which I know because I’ve been checking the London comedy venues for stuff to see while I’m there, and learned that I could see a Tom Ballard WIP if I were there just a few days earlier. But it’s all right that I’ll miss it, since I’m seeing him in Edinburgh. I think his current WIPs are less about working out the show in general, as he did have it finished, but more about translating the Australian politics-focused material to Britain for an Edinburgh run/British tour. I’m really looking forward to seeing the show.

So I was pleased to hear from Tom Ballard on The Bugle again, but I have to say, the only small downside to this fantastic episode is that Tom Ballard didn’t actually get all that much of a look-in. And that’s not due to any weaknesses in what he had, it’s because he was on with Chris Addison, and the other guests always get pushed to the side of the edit when they’re on with Chris Addison, and rightly so.

I’ve said before that Chris Addison is an amazing Bugle guest because he doesn’t do stand-up anymore. The Bugle isn’t a fully improvised podcast; Andy and the guests turn up with prepared material on topical subjects and then present it and react to each other’s stuff. But most of the time, the comedians are writing for lots of different things at once, and put down a few bullet points worth of ideas for stuff to say on The Bugle. If one of those ideas is deemed good enough to make their stand-up show, they’ll polish it up for that. The version they take to The Bugle is their rough draft.

But not Chris Addison. He doesn’t have a stand-up show to be the final version, or other areas to spread out his ideas. He’s writing multiple finished, polished stand-up monologues for each topic they discuss. He’s throwing all his gold at The Bugle, because he doesn’t have to save any for anywhere else. Andy and other Bugle guests have stopped more than once during his episodes to admire his work/admonish him for making everyone else look bad. One time when Nish Kumar did this after one of Addison’s routines, Chris Addison explained that he just comes across this way because The Bugle is the only opportunity he’s had to write new comedy material in over ten years, and he misses it and enjoys that chance. Which made me say, how many other talents are being wasted out there because Andy Zaltzman didn’t work with them in the early 2000s and put them on the Bugle 15-20 years later? How many brilliant comedians don’t write stand-up material anymore, but are just itching for a chance to do it again, if only an old friend would invite him on a podcast?

That’s what Chris Addison does normally, and this latest episode was no exception. If anything, I think he was on stronger form than usual. He had multiple monologues across the episode that were formatted like a proper, fully-formed stand-up routine. He had tags on tags, of the sort that most comedians only develop after months of WIPs where they think of one or two more words at a time. One of his monologues had a callback to something from a previous monologue. Oh my God, Chris, just fucking book some stand-up gigs again. You can still write your sitcoms and whatever else you’re doing.

So that was great, once again. But that isn’t actually the reason I wanted to write this post. The reason I’m writing this post is to call attention to this exchange, from fairly early into the episode:

Andy Zaltzman: I’d like the Republican Party to become a serious political organization again. That’s right up there with my absolute top pipe dreams, along with eternal peace; guilt-free foie gras; a functioning rail network; compulsory lanyards for all – everywhere, all the time, so we don’t have to remember anyone’s name; a ceasefire in the culture wars – and an equitable and lasting ceasefire, not just one that bumps all the problems down the road, [cough] Versailles; competent top-level administration that safeguards the future of Test cricket for at least the next 4,000 years; and having a head like an orange. Those are my top pipe dreams. Chris Addison: [laughs] That’s a very, very good – very in-joke.

That is an excerpt from Bugle episode 4311, released on July 16 but recorded on July 15, 2024. Now I would like to draw your attention to an excerpt from a questionnaire that sketch comedy duo Zaltzman and Oliver filled out about their 2004 Edinburgh Festival show, published on BBC.co.uk on July 28, 2004:

If the Edinburgh fairy could grant your wish, what would your wish for? AZ: A head like an orange. JO: A head like an orange.

Here’s the important thing about those two quotes: I have carefully combed through the entire individual and combined back catalogues of Andy Zaltzman and John Oliver, and I am pretty confident that those are the only two references ever made to having a head like an orange. This includes within the two sources – I have quoted the entire relevant passage both times, there is no context around it to explain what the hell they’re talking about. They made this joke one time in 2004, I read that questionnaire ages ago and wondered what they were talking about, and now they’d done it again, nearly exactly 20 years later. Like, within two weeks of being exactly twenty years later. And they will not tell us what they mean.

Now, it is possible that I’m just forgetting something here. The fact that Chris Addison recognized the joke in 2024, and that it apparently originated in 2004, makes me wonder if it could have been from The Department, the radio show that Andy Zaltzman, John Oliver, and Chris Addison wrote and starred in together in 2004-2006. I’ve heard every episode of that show a few times each and I don’t remember anything about a head like an orange, but it was pretty dense writing so I could have missed it.

The other possibility is that this is something from Political Animal, the stand-up night that Zaltzman and Oliver ran in London/in Edinburgh during the festival, starting 2003. They’d host it and other comedians would come on to do exclusively political stand-up material, and I know Chris Addison was one of the people who performed there a lot in the early days (Andy, you need to re-start Political Animal in 2024, just so you can make Chris Addison do a set). Some of this got recorded for BBC Radio 4 as well, and there were a lot of weird Zaltzman and Oliver sketches that appeared in the radio show in between the guests, and someone having and/or wanting a head like an orange seems like the sort of thing that could have happened in one of those sketches. I don’t remember it happening, but it’s been a while since I’ve heard that show, so it could have been in there. Even if it never appeared on the radio show, my best guess for the origin of the Orange Mystery is that it was some inside joke from their many Political Animal live shows that didn’t get recorded.

I really want to know this now. I wanted to know before, that 2004 questionnaire is one of my favourite of the weird like Zaltzman and Oliver historical relics. But I want to know even more now that it’s been referenced for only the second ever that I can remember, twenty years later, and we have confirmation that Chris Addison knows what it means. But he’s not telling. And neither is Andy.

I mean, they didn’t tell us, there. Didn’t say they’d never tell. I do pay The Bugle approximately $28/month – by far my most expensive monthly direct debit (well over twice the amount that I pay every month for any other one thing, besides, you know, rent and bills), even though I keep telling myself I need to be careful with money and should probably cancel that one because I can’t quite afford it, but I’ve taken so much free entertainment from Andy Zaltzman that it feels like the least I owe him.

The point is that because I pay this much money, I am a premium subscriber who can access their monthly show in which Andy answers questions submitted by premium subscribers. I just recently wrote a post about how I tend to be horrifically embarrassed by the thought of interacting with comedians I like, normally I’d never do this. But I’m thinking I might, in this case. It’s a reasonable question, isn’t it? Why does Andy Zaltzman want a head like an orange? I might send that in. Interacting with famous comedians does feel slightly more justified if I've paid for the privilege.

It originated way too early to be a Trump joke, no one was talking about his orange head in 2004. I keep trying to picture a head like an orange, in the hopes that that that will jog my memory of some other time when that image has been in my head, perhaps due to some other reference that I’d heard Zaltzman and Oliver make to it but had since forgotten. But every time I think of it, all I can picture is the curious orange from This Morning with Richard Not Judy, and that’s not it. I have never heard Zaltzman and/or Oliver reference Lee and/or Herring, I can’t imagine they’d start with this. My only other vague guess is maybe a joke about the colour of Andy’s hair? But why?

@lastweeksshirttonight @nyomkitten @bimwi, any of the Tumblr Buglers recognize this? Can any of you read this post and say, "How on Earth is Meerkats forgetting the very obvious [old Bugle episode in which they clearly explain their in-joke about a head like an orange, which I am somehow the only idiot who can't remember]?" Because if none of you tell me that's the case, then I'm emailing Andy Zaltzman to ask. Well, I'm emailing Producer Chris, and I'll just have to hope he puts the question to Andy.

Although I recently heard someone else get the opportunity to put just one question to a comedian, and they went with "Fuck marry kill - Rob Beckett, Ricky Gervais, Daniel Kitson", and it did make me think that is the perfect use of an opportunity to ask a comedian one question, and that should be the only question asked by any fan who's ever in such a situation again. Sorry to betray that by asking about a head like an orange instead. Andy Zaltzman and Daniel Kitson sharing a stage/radio studio has delivered some of the most awkward, social chemistry-free energy I've ever heard, so I'm sure he'd have a fun answer to that question too. He might have to let Ricky Gervais live just so he could avoid a marriage or sexual situation in which someone made him do a Marvin Gaye impression in the middle of it.

Edit: Okay, I've been informed that apparently there is an old joke about a man wishing for a head like an orange from a genie? I'd never heard it before but a guy I knew from England told me it was quite well known (and showed me a link to an American site, so apparently they had it there). I had never heard of this. Am I the only person who'd never heard of this? It hadn't occurred to me that Andy Zaltzzman would be referencing a joke he hadn't invented.

[bitchinbarzal]

can we get a blurb for the birth of frankie? i love the new addition!

“I mean if hockey doesn’t work out I think these two will make good nurses!” Your midwife laughed as she walked into the room and saw Ozzy holding your hand and Stevie holding a cold rag on your head.

You chuckled “Yeah, they’re good girls”

“Did Jack say when he’d be here?” She questions, checking your vitals again.

“He said they should land in 3 hours and that was about 4 hours ago so he should be here soon” you explained before squeezing Ozzy’s hand

“And you two are gonna go home with Luke”

“Mama I don’t wanna go, I wanna see the baby!” Stevie moaned

“Ste, you know you can’t stay baby girl but we’ll call Uncle Luke and Nico to bring you guys over as soon as she’s here. Okay?”

She grumbled an okay before sitting down on the chair beside your bed.

The door swung open to your room and he marched in, very disheveled

“Why? Why do our kids insist on being born when I’m out of state?”

“Clearly they’re just setting you up for a life of fuckin’ with you” you joked, smiling at him as he walked over and kissed your head.

“You’re okay? She’s ok?” He mumbled and you nodded

“Everything’s perfect baby”

Once that was established Jack turned to his others “Okay thing one and thing two uncle Luke is in the car waiting for you so say bye to mommy and baby I’ll take you out!”

Ozzy lifted her arms for Jack to lift her up onto the bed, climbing over to kiss you and then pat your belly

“Bye Ozzy-girl”

“Bye mama, bye Frankie. Love you!”

Stevie stood from her chair of sulking and you looked at her “I love you babygirl”

“Love You mama”

The peace and quiet for the few moments they were all gone was bliss until a contraction hit.

When Jack re-entered the room he had ice chips

“Oh my god I think I’m in love with you?” You joked, stealing the ice chips

“We’ve had three children, a home, moved state, been in the hockey draft together yeah I sure hope you do” he poked back.

He situated himself in the seat Stevie had sat in, all silence.

“Can you believe this is the last time we’ll be doing this?” You questioned

“I know… three kids. Who’d have guessed it”

“You’re sure you don’t want to try for a boy?” You asked, reaching for his hand.

He shook his head “I think I’m destined to be a girl dad and I’m okay with that. We’ve got three beautiful daughters and I don’t want to share you with any other guy”

You smiled “Jealous Mr Hughes?”

“Always when it comes to you”

Like everyone of your kids, this was a pretty chilled experience too. The contractions were painful but you got through them and the nurse would always say to Jack

“She makes it look easy”

“Well Yeah she’s basically superwoman”

When it came time to start pushing you turned to him and smiled “One last time”

“You’re gonna be great baby, bring our girl into the world”

There was a lot of huffing and puffing.

“I Forget how painful this is!” You exclaimed

“You’re doing great y/n!” The doctor shouted back

Jack kisses your head “You’re doing so good babe, she’s almost here”

It was quick, one minute you started and the next she was here.

“It’s a girl! Congratulations guys, she’s beautiful and looks just like Ozzy” your midwife, Laura who had been there for all of the girls births observed.

They cleaned her off before they placed her on your chest. You began sobbing, gripping onto her little body as she cried

“We did it” You cried

“You did it, baby. She’s beautiful” his finger swiped over Frankie’s cheek.

“Hi Frankie, hi babygirl”

When everyone had left and it was just you three sat you asked him to call the kids.

“Daddy!”

“Hi Peanut, wanna see her?” They both shouted and the camera panned round to you holding the baby.

“She’s so cute!” Stevie exclaimed

“She Is” You agreed “We can’t wait to see you guys tomorrow, uncle Luke will bring you down first thing in the morning okay? Now get some sleep”

You took your own advice and got some sleep too, leaving Jack and Frankie to their own devices.

“God you’re so cute Frankie” he mumbled, holding her in his arms swaying her infront of the room window “I thought I’d be upset only having girls you know? Don’t tell your mom but I wanted a boy… now I’ve met you I don’t know how I could’ve wanted anything else”

[toushindai]

what do you think Ganondorf and Rauru did while being imprisoned together? ☕ Do you think they just spend the time fighting?

I’ll tell you what I DON’T think happens, I DON’T think ~thousands of years pass in the blink of an eye~. No way. You two are stuck with each other and you are going to feel each and every interminable second of it. Suffer

Let’s tuck the rest of this under a cut so I can just say whatever

First of all obviously I think they’re gonna have weird sex about it. Weird, nonphysical, time-jumbled hatesex. I have not been subtle about wanting this from them, I think? And in fact, back before I got “A Certain Nobility of Character” working—which took so many miserably failed drafts—when my latest draft was refusing to cooperate, I did write a little of that (under the very punny filename “timefuckery”):

But as time wears away he learns to read, instead, the ebb and flow of hate. There are—moments. Moments when he remembers Sonia—the gentle sweet smell of her, the feel of her body astride his, the feel of her body cold in his arms dead because Ganondorf wanted him to suffer and Rauru’s despair hates himself more than he could ever hate another being. Moments when Ganondorf’s scorn is overwhelming, his rage, his neverending attempts to assert I am stronger than you and Rauru remembers a low whisper in his ear claim your power if you think you have it. Time is gone and he is entrapped in a whirlwind of the past and there are moments of teeth against throat and mouth against mouth and the electric lust of Ganondorf on his knees the heat of Ganondorf atop him, pushing him down, pushing inside of him. These moments play themselves out again and they leave each other aching and hollow and sated without truly moving.

I want them to be sort of bled together like this, feeling each other’s feelings, subjected to each other’s memories. And now that I’m 35k deep into this story I’m telling about them, I am imagining the two of them getting caught in this horrible, all-consuming feedback loop of loneliness and alienation because I really do see so much of that in both of them. They are never in a position to bond over it and they certainly still aren’t once they’re locked into eternally restraining each other but like. Imagine feeling someone else’s crater-in-their-chest loneliness and not respecting it and yet it echoes your own and you cannot cannot cannot get away from it. For thousands of years. Hot, I think!! Deeply compelling. Can you even sustain hatred for that long? Or maybe Ganondorf can--that is how we get Calamity Ganons, after all--but imagine Rauru wearing down, hatred becoming a despairing sense of understanding, feeling violated by his own sense of empathy as he comes to understand what Ganondorf feels, as Ganondorf's feelings and motivations come to feel like inevitable fact and it starts to seem like things never could have gone any other way than this one.

Also though yeah sometimes they are absolutely just trying to tear out each other's throats with their teeth. Definitely.

Anyway not to shill again but @skitter-kitter ALSO wrote excellently about this and like. If Rauru is touch-starved in ten years just think how he's gonna be after a millennia or two. It's honestly bonkers that Rauru is so chill on the Great Sky Island. Though I guess Link was out cold for a while. Rauru must have had a chance to do some processing.

[bbcphile]

For the fic writers ask meme: 17 and/or 37

Thanks for the asks, @the-surreptitious-albatross , and sorry it has taken me some time to respond!

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

I usually write the scenes in order, from start to finish. The closest I come to doing things out of order is that sometimes I will jump ahead and do a detailed outline of a later chapter if I think of ways I want it to be in conversation with an earlier one (eg. if there are interesting parallelism, or thematic commonalities), and often my outlines start with bullet points and then end up basically being very rough drafts, complete with pages of dialogue and the emotional beats or notes on where to add descriptions. And I guess with my current long MLC fic, I wrote a few drafts of the first few chapters, then did 15k of outlines/incredibly rough drafts for later chapters, and then the other day realized what was bugging me about how I had written the first chapter, so I went back and completely rewrote it. So I guess in that regard, I jump around, because I might go back and totally reconceive of a chapter based on something I want to do with character development later. (This is why I don’t post fics on AO3 until they’re done; I do a truly absurd amount of rewriting.)

37: Talk about your current wips.

I’m honored that you want to hear about it! I actually have 4 for Mysterious Lotus Casebook fics (3 with absurdly detailed outlines, but only one that I’m actively drafting), so for now, I’ll just talk about the one I’ve worked the most on. 

Post-canon (OT3) Beach fic:

tw/cw: suicide attempt, off-page non-consensual medical procedure

When Li Lianhua’s shiniang tried and failed to sacrifice herself to save Li Lianhua against his will, he fled to the Donghai beach, intending to die before she could catch up with him because he can’t endure the idea that someone else he cared about might die for him. Di Feisheng and Fang Duobing find him first and save his life for the moment, but are horrified to discover the truth that Li Lianhua can’t lie his way out of: that the damage from the survivor’s guilt of everything he’s been through is just as dangerous as the damage from Bicha poisoning. With each of them reeling from the traumas of the past year (Li Lianhua from Shan Gudao’s betrayal and now medical PTSD from his shiniang’s procedure, Fang Duobing from almost losing Li Lianhua and being terrified to let him out of his sight in case he goes straight back to the water, and Di Feisheng from the abuse at the hands of Jiao Liqiao), they have to figure out how to face everything they pushed aside to save the country, and in the process, learn that the hardest battles aren’t fought with swords.

To read an excerpt, follow this link: (x)

I was going to write up synopses for the others, but I’m out of energy (and don’t want to sit on this ask for another week or so to write them out), so I’ll just do quick teaser/keyword summaries for the others:

Missing Scene Fic: Di Feisheng’s first night in Lotus Tower (featuring him finding the Yinzhou armor being used as a potholder, his feelings on having his meridians and qi blocked, and helping LLH after a nightmare so it doesn’t wake up FDB and give away his identity.)

Pre-Canon: Yinzhou armor backstory, Sigu sect waterfall spars, and LXY/DFS first time; set the evening after Shan Gudao resigned from the Sigu Sect

5+1: FDB and DFS sharing the Lotus Tower guest bed (from FDB’s POV, covering the entire show + post canon)

[busterheadspace]

Hey about some shaking and shivering with breagan, maybe with they’re trapped together

Okay, truthfully I had no idea what to write. This probably didn’t turn out that good (I went through 5 drafts) but I unfortunately couldn’t come up with something, Sorry!

Note:Request are open. Bad Things Happen too

“I really wish Yetis would stop being stupid.” Reagan complained as they wandered around. 

A mission that JR decided to send Reagan and Brett on as he was worried about the Robes thinking he was a bad leader. It involved Yeti sightings and controlling the mutant species. They didn’t want to go. Especially since it was in the cold mountains where they could get lost. But the next thing they knew, seduced, thrown into a winter jacket and into the Himalayan mountains

“How come we don’t have a clearer way to contact them?” Brett asked

“They’re shy as hell. Scared of humans. Dogs. Machines. Everything.” Reagan explained. 

“So.. what are we exactly doing then?”

“Uh..” They pause as Reagan tries to think of an answer. They weren’t given an objective or how JR wanted the mission to end. “I guess we just communicate with them that they shouldn’t come out when humans are around?”

“That makes sense. I’m sure it’ll be easy.” 

“We have to find a Yeti Brett..”

They spent a lot of their time treading through the snow. No Yetis came out. They checked some caves cautiously. Still nothing. Snow had also started falling quite rapidly, making it harder to see and the cold becoming uncomfortable to the two. They decided to call it quits. Brett watched as Reagan tapped her watch to contact a pickup.

“No Yeti sightings. I don’t think they want any contact with us.” 

“I’m not wasting fuel money this Reagan! Find something about them and then I’ll sent a helicopter” JR said

‘Son of a bitch’ Reagan thought with an eye roll. Brett frowned at the response. 

“She’s not wrong JR. There’s nothing here about them and it's getting cold.”

JR wasn’t having it and ignored their request. Reagan had started arguing about the mission and Brett was trying to stay in the middle and calm the fight down . They didn’t notice the giant creature behind them, moving slowly.

“JR, I swear to God, we might get hypothermia Who the hell is going to run the missions if both the co-leaders are-?!” A warm breath hit them and a grunt made Brett and Reagan stop talking. Before they could turn around, hands push them forward. The snow collapses and suddenly they’re falling and screaming. 

A loud crack could be heard as they landed in a thin pile of snow. 

“Reagan! Are you okay?!” Brett asked and stood up quickly. Pain shoots through his ribs and leg and he yelps, falling back and a hand on his side. From where he was, he saw blood running down Reagan’s nose and side of her head. 

“Fuck..” Reagan mumbled as she tried to regain her senses. She felt something running her face and brought her hand up to see what it was. It wasn’t a good choice as it made her arm hurt. “I think my arm is messed up.”

“Shit.” Brett mumbled and attempted to stand again. Unfortunately it leads to the same outcome and he winces as he lands back. 

A growl comes from up above. A gorilla-like shadow stood from the hole they fell into. It grunts and walks away. What a great way to find a Yeti.. Reagan checked her watch and found that it shattered. 

“How are we going to get out?” 

They couldn’t climb out. Reagan attempted it and ended up falling. It was much harder with one arm out of use. Brett suggested he tried but was shot down. He was probably more injured than her. Who knows what else would be broken if he tried.

Reagan sighed and sat down , wrapping an arm around herself. It didn’t help that the weather had gotten worse. They could feel the strong winds and the snow falling on them made them really cold. Their faces were red and they started to feel numb. When did they call JR? Is he just leaving them here?

She felt something on her shoulders and turned to Brett. His jacket was off and noticed it was on. Immediately Reagan took it off and handed it back.

"You're cold Reags."

"We both are Brett but you're going to hurt yourself without a jacket." 

Brett shuffled over with a few groans until he was close. He took the jacket, although putting one sleeve in and the rest was put back on her. He wasn’t going to back down from this.

She scouts over and rests her head on his shoulder. She wasn’t used to physical contact yet but she knew that it helped many organisms stay warm. But also, she didn’t want to hurt his side. Brett didn’t seem to mind and wrapped an arm around her.

—-

She doesn’t remember falling asleep but whatever sleep that had done nothing to help. Moving slightly, Brett falls into the snow. However there wasn’t any motion coming from him

“Brett..?” Shaking him didn’t get a response either. He was really cold. His skin was light blue and shaking a lot. Oh shit. This has to be hypothermia. Fuck! She began to panic. What could she do to warm him up?! She took her jacket off and placed it onto him. It’s freezing without her jacket

 They couldn’t stay here any longer! They’ll die! In one last attempt, Reagan tried to climb up the wall but her whole body hurt and felt numb and ended up falling. At this point, she didn’t know what to do. 

Just as Reagan thought about accepting their fate, a light shines above them and a loud noise. A helicopter?! Did someone actually find them?!

“Brett! Reagan! Are you around here?” The familiar voice of Andre has never brought her this much joy.

“Down here!” A rope is thrown down and Andre slides down it. He quickly pointed out the blood but Reagan ignored his questions and pointed at Brett. Immediately he’s brought into the helicopter first and then Reagan would follow

Safe at last.

—-

“I’m starting to see why JR is a bad boss.” Brett mumbled as he sat on a bed, blanket wrapped on him and bandages around his body. Reagan shot him a look as she attempted to fix her watch. There wasn’t really any progress as her arm was in a cast

“Really? Now?”

“He seems nice at first! But thinking about everything he’s done.. It does break a lot of HR violations. What do you think is going to happen to him?”

A sigh. “Maybe a Robe meeting? He did seem scared of losing his job since that’s why we almost died”

“Mmm..”

The friend sat there quietly thinking about what had happened. Probably one of the most pointless missions they’ve been on and nothing really returned other than injuries and recording from Hypothermia.  

At least they had each other.. That was something 

[unohanadaydreams]

I never posted these, did I? Here’s some more of me re-reading TYBW from a bit ago.

Hmmm, sounds kind of like a vague way to answer. Like he’s trying to tell you something, mayhaps.

Also, it sucks that this just gets really lost in the TYBW sauce. This confrontation comes late in the arc and is SO quick. The logic behind minimizing this is really lost on me.

He literally starts this arc with the nakama and the switch to being with the Sternritter doesn’t feel mysterious, it just feels confusing. Like…..why are there sternritter who die shortly after getting introduced getting more panel time than URYU.

It’s sad this arc was rushed, because the charms of Soul Society arc and Hueco Mundo arc imo came from their build up arcs where Ichigo and his friends had legitimate focus on them before being flung into the arc proper. In other words, we got invested in Ichigo and his friends making it out alive with Rukia bc we had time to sit with them. We got invested when Orihime was kidnapped, when her friends came to rescue her, because we had time with them. We didn’t have that same time here and especially in no way that mattered toward this development.

This seems like a weird thing to say if Yhwach purely means ‘your child’ in a ‘child of God’ way.

And he was born in a way that would indicate he really is Soul King’s son. Like he couldn’t see or move or sense anything….like the Soul King.

It makes me wonder how Yhwach came to be? Was he a natural child or created as a successor to the peerless, motionless throne? Was the Soul King always meant to be contained as such or was he a moving, feeling person as Yhwach came to be? What would happen if his limbs were brought back to him in full? Why was he torn apart in the first place?

Like Yhwach and Soul King just have SO many similarities.

Why couldn’t he have seen that? Isn’t seeing the future….also seeing the difference in strength that the future brings?

The problem with a Soul King that can see the future is that 1. Yes he did see this and 2. How exactly did the soul king set up Yhwachs upcoming failure as seeing doesn’t imply action to stopping it.

He can’t move. He’s been taken apart and placed in the sky to sit pretty—he only got his arm back because Ukitake gave it back intentionally. What abilities did he have that brought about Ichigo and Aizen and Uryu to bring about the defeat?

So confused on why this is any different from what he’s been planning?

Like, characters have been very wishy washy on what ‘ending the soul society’ means. Some act like nothing will exist anymore, others say shinigami just won’t be in charge, and some imply it’ll just suck for the worlds to be gone?

What exactly is he taking from the soul king that he wasn’t already going to??? It’s clear Soul King isn’t chilling here of his free will—what else is there to take?

The fact that this is NEVER expanded upon is an extraordinary crime.

I would fucking devour anything that expanded on this and the original war 1000 years ago. I crave it so much.

He’s SO back handed. He’s a sentence away from saying he needs a thank you for her promotion lmao.

Also, yeah, this is the first time Rukia really comes face to face with Aizen since he left her face down in the dirt, huh? That’s rough, buddy.

Everyone being SO surprised about this move by Shunsui makes me wonder how classified Mayuri’s origins at the 12th are, and the R&D in general.

This institution is not a stranger to pulling resources from former enemies. The Arrancar seem to be easier to swallow because they’re seen as lesser, I guess? Same seems to stand for the full bringer. And vizards just kind of….come back no questions asked?

None of the above ever started a concerted rebellion that resulted in a full blown war against Seireitei, to be fair.

Once again, we see that sacrificing your beliefs in the name of duty? Fine.

As long as you don’t have feelings attached it IS justified. The evil just cancels right out!

Tosen? A blind animal. Komamura? A dumb animal. Gin? A tragic animal. Their actions are reduced to mindless revenge because they did it out of feeling.

Shunsui releasing Aizen is justified because he has forced himself to feel nothing (or so he betrays) other than the logic of his actions serving Seireitei.

His desire to kill Yhwach is likewise just duty. Which is coincidentally how Ichigo gets to dodge confronting his feelings surrounding Yhwach and the anger he feels toward him regarding his mother—it’s also his duty to the Seireitei.

I can appreciate a lot of what Bleach says about revenge but it runs into the same problem plenty of other media does by trying to quantify the problem as feeling too much. Swinging the other direction doesn’t suddenly make it all okay.

Like, cruelty is cruelty. Principles are principles. Cruelty out of duty doesn’t hurt any less. Principles left behind out of duty are just as gone. Systematic oppression is often built and fed by phrases like ‘just doing my job’ and feeling nothing for an enemy doesn’t make a war any less horrible or violent (which Shunsui has literally pointed out before).

But ‘as long as it’s against evil it’s justified’ is just lmao. Like, Tosen thought he was justified while fighting evil. So did Komamura. So did Gin. What is the difference here, when we remove the emotions? Komamura especially—if his reasons has been purely rooted in duty, and he had still gone to the extremes he felt necessary to find victory…what then?

Because the chances of Aizen breaking loose and causing harm to those under Shunsui’s care is absolutely there. The endangerment wouldn’t be any less real, would it?

All that said, I think Aizen being freed was inevitable and the only reason he was imprisoned instead of killed, in the first place. I also don’t think it’s an unreasonable move. Shunsui is a great character to do this too, since he is a pretty self-loathing guy and I’d bet he just doesn’t view himself as a man of principles to begin with so this justification seem more for the lieutenants than for himself.

Executioners hate him! This man stayed alive with these simple tips and tricks. Grow your spiritual pressure not in years but in MONTHS!!

‘sinners’ lmao. Remember where you crawled out of, Mayuri.

Also Mayuri is genuinely so thrilled to be in control of people. His favorite avenues of science are enacting power over bodies (dissecting and gigai and soul candy and regrowing limbs, ect). Like he will invent anything, get around any obstacle, to prove he can control someone.

Two men and their massive egos and their remote powered toys having a very normal conversation right in front of my salad???

Kind of feels purposeful on Aizen’s part. Like ‘either I’m shooting the palace down or you’re not getting up there’.

He’s smart enough to have realized his restricted spiritual pressure was going to result in restricted range. He was trying to force their hand on giving that range more slack.

It’s been five seconds since Shunsui revealed Aizen and he’s already caused problems.

[kingdaddydaichi]

One of my favorite stories I’ve ever read is “Lessons Learned”. So I would like to request something similar with a mixture of Hard dom/ Brat tamer Bakugou ❤️‍🔥 Take it in whatever direction you want, I know I’ll enjoy it however it ends up 😏

@ssplague, bestieeee! Tysm! 🥺💕 I'm sooooo fucking sorry it took me so long to answer your ask! It made me weak the first time I read it! I've got so many other wips I should probably be working on rn, but I finally said FUCKIT! I nEED this in my life rn!

I LOVED writing Lessons Learned - god! It was hard to get through tho. Nearly every time I sat down and started working on it, it always ended the same way and that's all I'ma say rn! 😈

Yes. I see your HardDom!BratTamer!Bakugou and raise you Jealous!Exhibitionist!Bakugou. 💅🏼💋

I hope it's worth the wait...

MINORS 👏🏼 DO 👏🏼 NOT 👏🏼 INTERACT 👏🏼

The Performance 💥 HardDom!BratTamer!Jealous!Exhibitionist! Katsuki Bakugou x f!reader 💥 NSFW

Warnings: slight dubcon, Dom/sub dynamic, possessive dynamic, exhibitionism, marking, circle jerk, creampie, absolute filth

Word Count: 2.9k

It was half past 9 when he walked through the door at the well-to-do club where you'd been enjoying down time with some of your friends. He kissed your cheek and sat down in the half-circle booth next to you, putting his warm, athletic arm over your bare shoulders.

"How long you been waitin'?"

"Maybe an hour?"

He looked down, grumbling. "Got here as soon as I could". He glanced at you with his bottom lip poking out.

You propped your cheek on your hand and smiled at him, rubbing his arm. "I know, babe. It's perfectly fine, I understand".

"Ay, Bakubro! You finally made it!", Kiri yelled from across the table.

Katsuki snarled at him. "Yeah! Some of us have to actually work for a living!"

At that very moment, the cocktail waitress stopped by the table to take Katsuki's order and Mina yelled, "Yes please, for the love of god, get that man a drink!"

He growled at her before turning back to the waitress. "Four fingers of whiskey straight, no chaser".

She scampered off and everyone fell into the chatter and laughs they'd been sharing when Katsuki arrived.

💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥💥

You were on your way back to the table from the restroom when you felt fingers against your elbow and a voice behind you say, "Hey, (y/n)!"

"Oh hey!" It was a young man a few years younger than yourself who worked in the same office building as you. "Fancy seeing you here". He appeared to be with a couple of friends judging by the prying eyes peering from behind him, smirking.

"I know, right? I've been here a few times, but I don't think I've seen you here before".

"Really? I come here quite regularly and I've seen you here before".

"Oh, I'm sorry, I guess I just haven't been paying attention".

"Don't worry about it! I just thought I'd say hi this time".

"I'm glad you did! Maybe I'll see you again the next time I'm here". You waved your fingers at him and started back towards your table again only to see Katsuki's eyes about to burst into flames as he watched you approach.

When you sat down, he leaned in. "Who's he?"

You waved him off. "Just a guy who works in the same building as I do".

"What did he want?"

"Nothing, just wanted to say h-"

"Bullshit". He placed his hand over your thigh under the table. "When a guy looks at a woman the way he was looking at you, trust me baby, he wants something". His large, rough hand squeezed the meat of your thigh beneath it. It hurt and you gripped his wrist in an effort to keep the whine in the back of your throat from escaping. The rest of your party was too close in proximity...at least one or two of them would've heard you. "I don't like it when other guys look at you like that". He dragged his fingers upward, taking the hem of your skirt along with them.

"Katsuki, get ahold of yourself. They're just looking...it's not like they're touching me".

He put his mouth to your ear. "Fuck it. Let 'em look". His hand moved further up your skirt, parting your legs enough that you could feel the cold draft of air against your dampening panties. "It'll just give me every reason I need to show them who you belong to".

His eyes shifted away from yours and you followed them to see what he was looking at. The guy who had just been flirting with you was watching as your husband's hand worked between your legs. His eyes flicked to Katsuki’s whose dark, lopsided, toothy grin spread across his handsome face, pleased that he was making himself clear to the other man that he had already laid his claim on you.

His pinky grazed your clothed, wet slit and you squirmed in your seat, trapping his hand between your thighs hoping it would make him relent. "Stop it, Katsuki", you growled at him.

But he twisted his wrist until he was able to push your panties aside with two of his fingers. He sank said fingers between your inner folds, coating them with your clear slick before curling them upwards to flick them over your hardening clit. You shuddered under his touch as he locked eyes with the other man, making sure he was watching when Katsu raised his fingers to his mouth, sucking them both off at once.

You glanced down to see Katsuki's cock pushing against the fabric of his slacks, tight against him in his sitting position. Showing other men that you belonged to him had always put him in a rut. You used the situation to your advantage and knowing he wouldn't follow you with a half, but nevertheless large, erection for everyone to see, you stood up in one fluid movement, turning away from him and strutting to the bar.

As you waited for the busy bartender to take your order, you noticed the rather strapping gentleman who stood beside you, looking down at his glowing phone screen.

"What can I get for you ma'am?"

You looked back at the bartender, who'd finally spoken to you. "Oh, um- (favorite drink)-"

"On me", the man beside you said.

"Yes sir", the bartender said before turning to his task.

You looked again at the handsome man beside you - taller than Katsuki, but he didn't exude quite the same confidence he did. Then again, not many people did.

"Thank you, you didn't have to do that".

"I know". He gave you a smug, sidelong look. "I wanted to".

You tried to hide your smile, but fuck. His sexiness could easily go head to head with Katsuki's. You watched his eyes travel from your face down to your toes and back up again. You could almost feel your possessive husband's fiery eyes burning a hole in your back.

You turned to face the gentleman beside you, glancing over at the blond in the process. When you focused your gaze back to the man beside you, Katsuki stood up and started stalking towards you. His dick still wasn't completely soft yet, but he didn't care. He probably wanted the man next to you to see the bulge in his pants, using it to his advantage during the impending exchange at the bar. Not many men had a bigger cock than Katsuki and he knew it.

He wrapped his arm around your waist, squaring his hips off at the other man, most likely willing him to notice his size. "Let's go".

You pushed back against him. "Stop Katsu, I'm not ready to go yet".

He locked eyes with the man beside you and put his mouth right up next to your ear. "Would you prefer I fuck you right here on this bar to show everyone who your slutty pussy belongs to? Because I will! You're already wet and aching for my cock, aren't you, pretty girl?"

He was NOT bluffing. You knew your Dom. It had only taken him once before to show you that he was not above covertly pulling his dick out and pushing it inside your hot cunt while standing behind you at a crowded bar, much like the one you were standing at now.

The bartender sat your drink down on a small napkin, but Katsuki pushed it back to him and said, "Oi! Throw this one out and make her another one". He glared at the taller man beside you. "ALL of her drinks are on me, got that?"

He slid two thick fingers inside the plunging neckline of that little black number you wore, carding your hard nipple between them as he rutted his hips against your bottom. "Well?"

A part of you wanted him to fuck you then and there with the other man watching. But you'd never let it actually go that far. "Katsu, please go sit down and I'll be over after I get my drink since I have to wait longer for it now". You rolled your eyes.

He leaned back, his vermillion eyes searching yours until they locked onto the feminine form brushing past your shoulder. He reached out and stopped the cocktail waitress in her tracks, leaning down to her ear, whispering something. Without another word, he calmly walked away and sat back down at the table.

Stubborn as you were, you held your position at the bar. A couple of minutes later, out of the corner of your eye, you saw movement near the table where Katsuki was seated. The same waitress was now leaning down and whispering in his ear, her lips less than an inch from his face. He caught your gaze and smirked before turning his face towards hers. For a second it looked like he might actually kiss her. You were relieved for about half a second when she stood up and started walking away from him, only to watch him stand up as well and follow her up the stairs into the private VIP area.

Now it was your head that was about to explode. I know he did NOT just invite a fucking cocktail waitress to the VIP so he can fuck her! He turned the tables faster than a cheap hooker turns tricks on the streets of Vegas. You knew how other females looked at him. Hell, males too! That girl was probably 10 years your junior too, barely old enough to be serving alcohol. And now you watched as she led your husband up the stairs.

Drink forgotten, you marched your pretty, indignant ass right up to the 2nd level, ready to snatch a bitch up by her hair only to find Katsuki sitting on the couch, alone.

"Seems you're a petty, jealous asshole too".

Relieved, you plopped down on the couch next to your faithful husband, putting your arm over his waist as he pulled you in and kissed your forehead.

You lowered your head to his chest only to notice once again that his cock was pressing against the confines of his pants. You stroked him through the rough material as he raised up, pushing his erection closer to you, physically begging for more of your touch. You palmed him a couple more times before unzipping his slacks and pulling his cock out. He wasn't fully hard yet, but if you had anything to do with it, he was going to be standing at full attention in less than a minute.

You lowered your head further and pushed some spit through your ruby lips onto the angry head of his dick. He watched as you lowered your mouth and swirled your tongue around the smooth texture of his tip before sinking your lips down around him, taking as much of him into your mouth as possible. Not easy, but you're a blow job champ determined to take all of it for the team.

Only a couple of minutes passed by when Katsuki pulled you off his cock. You raised your lusty gaze to see the two men who'd flirted with you standing side-by-side, eyes as big as half dollars at the sight of your tits hanging out of your dress with a fat string of saliva hanging from your bottom lip. Your face snapped to Katsuki who had a shit-eating grin on his face. "What the fuck, Katsuki? Why are they here?"

"Because I had them brought here to watch and see under no uncertain terms who the fuck you belong to!"

Your protest was cut short when Katsuki flipped your body around so that you were facing the back of the couch. He pushed your skirt up around your waist and hooked your soaking panties with his thumb, pushing them aside and holding them against your ass cheek. "I suggest you hold onto something, you bratty cockslut!"

"Baby, no, I don't want them to see-". You averted your eyes from theirs.

Katsuki gave his thick cock a couple of strokes before pushing the head against your weeping entrance.

"Katsuki, you can't-". Your words failed you as he sank his meaty cock inside you.

He looked over at the audience of two, who were enraptured as they watched your husband pull himself nearly all the way out before gliding himself in balls deep again. He set a rhythm, making sure that the two guys who'd had the audacity to flirt with you could see the striations of your slick along his length as he fucked you. The younger of the two, the office boy, had been palming himself through his pants.

"Oh my god, Katsu! They're watching us!"

"I know, that's the fucking point!" Maintaining his pace, he looked at them. "You understand now that she's mine?"

Their mouths moved, but no sound came out. Katsuki pounded his thighs against you harder, a sharp clap ringing through all 8 ears. "Answer me!" The taller man's erection was now evident through the fabric of his pants.

"Y-yes, I un-understand", one of them mustered while the other one could only nod.

Katsuki's wet balls were slapping your clit now, and you whimpered "Katsu? Baby?"

He wrapped your hair around his fist, ignoring your mewl. He never broke eye contact with the men who'd made passes at you. "Tell her who the fuck she belongs to".

The younger one had pulled his cock through his open zipper, jerking off his smaller dick with his eyes locked on the point where your body met your husband's.

"Look at her!", Katsuki commanded. Both pairs of eyes met yours, their dry mouths hanging open. "SAY IT!"

They both jumped. "Y-you...belong to h-him", said the younger man who had been jacking off.

"The name's fucking Bakugou! Fucking say it!"

The same guy said, "You b-belong to B-Bakugou!"

By this time the taller man had pulled his dick out too, much larger than that of the other guy, but he still didn't hold a candle to Katsuki.

Katsuki's eyes darted to his. "Say my fucking name!" Your pussy was sucking him hard and his voice nearly cracked.

"B-Bakugou..."

"That's right...Bakugou. It's her last name too, you fucking beta. Don't you ever forget!"

The man's eyes drifted over to your pussy just in time to see the pink ring of flesh around your husband's cock begin an undulating cycle of flexing and relaxing. "Nnn-Katsu! G-gonna cum!"

Your thighs tightened and your hips stopped rocking back against Katsuki's, but the clamping down of your vaginal walls only got stronger as you unraveled around your husband's weighty cock.

He pulled back on the fistful of your hair, still plunging himself deep within your quivering cunt. Smarmy as ever, he looked at the taller man again. "Who does this fucking pussy belong to?"

"Y-you! I-I mean, Bakugou!"

"You're goddamn right it fucking does". Katsuki's groan escaped on the tail end of his words.

You could feel his cock tensing up inside you, such was his size. "Katsu?" Your body had turned to putty as you tried to hold onto what little shred of dignity you had left. "Cum for me, Katsu!", you whimpered.

"Why the fuck should I?"

"C-uz I want y-ou to mark m-e!" Your eyeliner smeared across the leather material of the couch cushion.

"That's a good a reason as any", he said before shifting his eyes away from the small circle jerk and back down to you. "Ah fuck, baby, yeah. I'll fucking mark you alright!" His eyes darted back up to that of his audience. "Gonna make sure my musk saturates you so they can fucking smell me on you!"

Drool seeped from your open mouth against the cream-colored leather. Your tits swayed and your ass cheeks rippled from the sheer force of Katsuki's relentless thrusts.

"Ah fuck, baby, gonna fill you up with my seed! So fucking full of it you're not going to be able to hold it all in!" Katsuki's hips snapped against your ass one last time before locking up, his ass flexing, relaxing, flexing, relaxing, flexing.

The younger man who'd been jacking off whined quietly as he blew his load onto the carpet beneath him.

"Nn fuck", the taller one groaned.

Finished with his orgasm, Katsuki pulled his cock out, bouncing under its own weight. He pulled your hips around to put on display the creampie he'd left behind inside you. The taller man, still tugging on his cock, watched as your pussy clenched, causing some of Katsuki's seed to ooze out of you and drip onto your ankle. That's all he could take and he came rather loudly, his cum nearly hitting you on the first release, such was the power behind it.

Katsuki frowned at both of them. "She's fucking mine. Don't you ever fucking forget it. Now...get the fuck OUT!"

They barely got their sticky, softening cocks back in their pants before retreating downstairs to no doubt go straight to their respective homes and have existential crises because they just orgasmed while watching another man fuck and cum inside an attractive woman. Porn was one thing, but Katsuki's show of dominance had hit different. And they had to wonder if they were wrong for it somehow.

Meanwhile, your husband helped you pull yourself together at least enough to make it to the car to take you home.

And with the privacy window partially cracked open, the driver was able to watch as Katsuki lapped up both your fresh slick for him, as well as his own seed as it continued to leak out.

[enhaheeseung]

So as I said I would like to make a post as to why I’m thinking about deleting this account before like I said I was dead set on it but now I’m not sure but here are a few reasons for why I’m contemplating it

Number one Im really wishy washy one moment I’ll be so confident in a plot or a story but as I post it I feel like it’s not good enough or I could have done better than I start getting these irrational thoughts like it’s bad or embarrassing and finally I get to the point where I stop writing (hints my 40 drafts)

Another reason is feeling like I have to rush something out even though no one demands me to write and post for some reason I feel obligated or I’m gonna lose readers if I don’t like I said I know I’m the only one that feels that way buts it’s a big hindering point for me

Something else is when I don’t get many comments or asks I feel unimportant like I put a lot of time work and effort for little feedback which is once again all in my head cause you all are literally the best and even if I had just one follower that enjoyed my writing I’d continue for them cause the joy I feel when someone tells me that my writing makes their day is immeasurable

Also I really don’t have any friends on here like there’s no one that I talk to or have connected with and that plays into another on of my problems is that it may seem stupid but I miss my older readers not saying I don’t like my new followers just as much but it’s different when you kinda get to know someone and then they’re are just gone which also makes me feel like a hypocrite cause I’m literally thinking about leaving

Anyways it all sounds really ridiculous if you think about it I mean I just made this account to write but I didn’t know what others things I’d encounter here but the best way I can describe it is I feel lonely and I think that was one of the main reasons for my lack of motivation but I can’t blame anyone cause you all have lives going on and they don’t stop just cause someone posts a fic on tumblr

So those are the more app base problems that I have but as for life in general it’s been really tough all around when I made this account I was only part time but as months went by people from my job quit so I was able to pick up more hours and more hours means more money now typically forty hour jobs are the norm but for me it’s been really tough cause I got hired in October (the day before heeseung’s birthday lol hehe anyways) and my immune system is very weak so I was shifting between first and third shift till October so you could imagine what that was like and it’s still not that much better because of this I don’t eat on proper schedule cause I get home and im so tired I just fall asleep and miss dinner leaving only one meal a day which is lunch with all that being said I’ve lost a significant amount of weight and energy overall so I think that also has a lot to do with my mental status I’ve really just been completely out of it today I was just on auto pilot and it felt terrible cause I had no control over how I feel

I have a lot of emotional stress and family issues that are really bad but I will not talk about that here I typically take out my stress by working and doing things which is the worst way to cope cause my body can not take all the stress I endure nor my mind I’ll usually workout or work extra hard and push myself beyond the limit cause somehow that makes me feel hopeful and motivated to not give up it’s weird but it works

It’s also weird to talk about this here but I feel everyone deserves an explanation for why I feel like leaving

A big problem of mine I’m a huge people pleaser like to an extent that’s almost troubling so I always try my best to accommodate everyone and guess who that leaves on the back burner

Me

And that’s a big problem cause I should always put myself first but I didn’t as I stated before I wrote two of my favorite stories “popcorn” and “angel” angel took ten hours while popcorn took about seven “train ride home” also falls into the category of works I made in just one day I was so excited to post them for everyone hoping it would get a good response and to please my readers at the expanse of me using my whole day off just to write one fic

Overworking has been my downfall since I can remember like I mentioned some time ago I work till the point of satisfaction I push myself to the limit to test myself even if I know I can do it I still have to put my body under some type of physical pain until I’m satisfied an example of this would be a few years ago I used to do sprinting I still do just not as often but I was so driven to beat my previous record that I was out till midnight I ran the same course too many times to count so many times I gave myself a cramp and still kept going I didn’t stop until I beat my record with a cramp and all

This leads me to my stubbornness I just can’t stop even with writers block I continually try to write stories that’s why I didn’t feel like taking a break was an option cause if I know myself I’d just go back and back time and time again in the past I mentioned taking breaks but I never really did I just didn’t post for awhile behind the scenes I was still in fact writing

After awhile I think the positive feedback really kept me wanting to post something about the notifications was almost like an addiction so I kept posting and posting till I eventually went through everything all my plots and idea’s poof gone but I still wanted to please everyone so I continued to post even when I felt it was sub par

I only have a few works I’m proud of but I still beat myself up cause they could have been better overall it’s just I don’t know how to explain it or what’s going on it even feels strange to me one minute I’m up next minute I’m down I think there’s a lot of things to attribute this to such as my lifestyle and just getting older but who really knows

Ultimately the biggest reason is I just feel like I’m not good enough I think that’s what it really boils down to unfortunately I know I’m way too hard on myself and it’s really not this deep but I can’t help it I wanted to share this with everyone to let you know that I really tried my best

And when my best isn’t good enough I can’t help but feel disappointed with myself I’m a perfectionist as well so that doesn’t help my situation in conclusion I’m having a mental battle with myself I think if I can get in tune with my body and mind I could come back stronger and better but as of right now that’s going to take all my effort I am currently working on all these problems I mentioned

Even though it was very tough for me to share my mind with the world it has also been healing and a great experience at times I’m glad there’s a platform for like minded people to meet without any judgement and hostility I’m greatful to everyone who has followed my tumblr journey all I can say is I love you all🤎

Sincerely your hee simp president

[ppangjae]

PLANET GIRL | part 1

SUMMARY. When Jaehyun turned twenty-one, he started to hear his soulmate’s voice singing an unfamiliar song in his head. He should be happy, right? Wrong. There are two things wrong with this:

He’s taken. He’s off the market. He’s in a 3-year relationship and,

The voice singing in his head is not his girlfriend’s voice.

Now what?

GENRE. soulmate!au | cinderella!au | cupid!reader | college!au | fluff | angst

WORD COUNT. 6k+ words

author’s note. after much consideration, i decided to post this fic in three parts so that it’s not as hectic! you know me, i love adding ✨drama ✨ now, before you come at me for posting this and not a made to fall in love update, this first part of this fic has been done since mid-september. i’d rather release it than let it collect dust in my drafts. so yes, here she is. happy reading!

taglist: @billiondollarworth @cafemochi @stae-yong @chanyeolscoon @ggaayyyong @soothingjae @taestannie @plump-peach @oshmendes @lanadreamie​ @justineasian​ @jjpmoans​ @beryllium-io​ @jaeismytamtation​ @noonapabo127 @hanniesbubble​ 

PART ONE. cupid | PART TWO. jupiter | 2.5 intermission | PART THREE. PLANET GIRL

“Mark, get your ass over here before I do it myself!”

“Holy shit, what’s the rush?”

“Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day.”

“And what about it?”

It’s that time of the year again; Valentine’s Day. It’s the day where people fall in love or get their hearts broken. But to you, it’s the day where you’re designated to a new target. To put it simply, you’re Cupid. You are part of a family of Cupid’s. However, you hate being called Cupid, you moreso see yourself as a matchmaker. 

Every Valentine’s Day, you’re designated to a new target. As a matchmaker, it is your responsibility to make your target fall in love within one year. If you fail to complete your mission, you will be stripped of your abilities of matchmaking. 

Last year, your target was Johnny. Johnny was an easy target to work with, for he fell in love with the local cafe barista within three months. The two of them are happily dating now and it’s almost as if they’re still in their honeymoon phase. 

Two years ago, your target was your roommate Mark. It took a while for him to fall in love. He was quite difficult to work with because he was so focused on his studies that he barely batted an eyelash at a human of the opposite sex. But you still managed to do it and all it took was to introduce him to Mina, the studious chemistry student who’s been crushing on him since freshman year. 

But this year, you’re not quite sure who to expect. 

“Are you getting your new assignment tomorrow?” Mark finally enters your room after what seems like forever, falling against your bed. He lands and lets out a soft ‘oof!’. You turn away from your desktop to face him. 

“Of course,” you reply with a quirk of an eyebrow. “What kind of question is that? Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day, the day of love and the day of heartbreak.”

“Are you excited?”

“Not the slightest bit.” You let out a tiring sigh.

“Why not?” He frowns.

“Because I have to stress over someone else’s love life for another damn year.” You shrug your shoulders as you explain. “I already have other things to stress out over.”

“You’re always granted a year per love assignment. A year is enough to make someone fall in love, right?”

You laugh. “A year per love assignment? I wish a year was enough. A year goes by with a blink of an eye. Before you know it, it’s Valentine’s Day again.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself. Why don’t you just skip out on the matchmaking just for this year?” He suggests and you shake your head.

“I can’t.” You purse your lips into a tight line. 

He lets out a snort. “I’m sure it’s possible—”

“It’s impossible.”

There are many great things about being a Cupid; you help people fall in love with each other and the outcome is always beautiful. But there are also many downfalls about being a Cupid, one of them being cursed to never fall in love. You’ve always craved the feeling of being loved by someone. As much as you hate to admit it, you’re needy for love. But the closest you’ll ever feel to being in love is witnessing the love being shared by two people, specifically between your love assignment and their soulmate.

You wonder how it feels to have someone care for you. You wonder how it feels to be sought after. You wonder how it feels to hug someone and hold their hand. But you guess you’ll never know because you’ll never experience it.

“God, I want to throw up.”

Johnny lets out a snort as the both of you pass by the seasonal section of the department store. There’s a plethora of Valentine’s Day chocolates on the shelves, along with teddy bears and heart plushies. Seeing the bright, flashing red on the days leading up to Valentine’s Day is surely a sore to the eye. 

“I know, it makes me want to poke my eyes out.” Johnny sighs.

“And what are we here for again?” You ask Johnny as you follow him to the baked goods section of the department store. Your question seems to be answered when you find yourselves standing in front of a shelf filled with ready-made birthday cakes. You quirk an eyebrow. “Who’s birthday is it? It’s definitely not Mark’s birthday, don’t even try to trick me.”

“It’s Jaehyun’s birthday tomorrow, I figured it would be sweet of me to get him a birthday cake.” He shrugs his shoulders as he points between two cakes on the shelves. “This one or this one?”

You point at the plain birthday cake on the left. “This one. You know what would be really funny? If you printed his face on the cake.”

Johnny looks at you and squints his eyes. “You're a genius.”

You have no idea who Jaehyun is. You don’t even know what he looks like. You’ve only heard of him through Johnny. The both of them host the university’s famous evening radio show, Night Night with JohnJae. You’re a listener of their show, mainly because you are supportive of your best friend Johnny. You’re sure Jaehyun is a great guy, especially since Johnny and Jaehyun share good chemistry with each other. You’ll probably get along with him well if you met him. But that encounter has yet to happen. 

As Johnny hands the cake over to the bakery chef to print Jaehyun’s face on it, he turns towards you. “And now we wait.”

“What time do you have to be at the studio?” You question.

He looks down at his watch. “I’ll make it on time. By the way, Mark has been making great song requests by this SoundCloud artist. From what he tells me, the artist is a student from our university.”

You quirk an eyebrow, gulping nervously. “Who’s this SoundCloud artist?”

“Planet Girl.” Johnny pulls out his phone and opens up the music app before handing it over for you to see. You stare at the artist’s profile. “Do you know her?”

You shake your head in reply. “Unfortunately, I don’t.”

“Damn,” Johnny lets out a sigh. “I was hoping you did. Jaehyun and I want her to be a guest on the show, it could probably help her get more attention in the industry.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” you purse your lips into a tight line. “I only know so many people in my program. I have a very small, closely knitted group of friends. They are the only people I’ve known since I stepped on campus in freshman year.”

“I was hoping you’ve heard of her, at least.” He chuckles. “But damn, her music is so good. I can’t wait until her mixtape drops. I’m sure it’ll be such a banger.”

“I should probably check her out.” 

“You should!” Johnny exclaims. “I wonder who she is.”

You fiddle with your fingers. You stare at Johnny who’s scrolling through the SoundCloud artist’s profile, adding a couple of the artist’s songs to his playlists. You blink and with a slight tilt of your head, you clear your throat. “Yeah, me too—”

“I have an order for Johnny!”

11:51 pm.

“Right before we sign off for the night, do you have anything to say to our listeners?”

Johnny has a shit-eating grin spread across his lips. He comes back into the studio with a birthday cake. It’s not just your typical birthday cake. It’s a birthday cake with Jaehyun’s face on it and it’s blown out in an odd proportion. The candles aren’t birthday candles either, in fact, they’re heart-shaped candles, perfect for Valentine’s Day. Jaehyun lets out a sigh. What is he going to do with Johnny?

“I just wanted to greet our handsome radio host slash Valentine boy, Jaehyun, a happy birthday! We have—” Johnny glances down at his wristwatch before continuing. “—nine more minutes before it’s officially Jaehyun’s birthday and Valentine’s Day. And what’s better than celebrating it with a birthday cake?”

“Is that my face?” 

“Who else would it be, doofus?” Johnny scoffs, pulling out a lighter to light the candles. Jaehyun lets out a snort as Johnny starts to sing him a happy birthday. After the happy birthday song, Johnny frowns and sends him a death glare. “Why aren’t you getting emotional? I did all of this to get that reaction?”

Jaehyun gives him a look. “And so as we sign off for the night, I just wanted to thank Johnny for his efforts in kicking off my birthday on a high note. I also want to greet everyone with a Happy Valentine’s Day. Whether you are happily dating someone or admiring someone from afar, just know that you are all in our hearts.”

“Stop being greasy.” Johnny winces. “Anyways, we’re going to sign off for the night with a song request from Mark Lee! Goodnight and see you tomorrow, here is Loose by Daniel Caesar.”

They turn their microphones off and Johnny pushes the birthday cake towards him. “Quick! Make a wish before the candles go out.”

Jaehyun clasps his hands together and makes a wish. With a satisfied grin, his eyes flutter open and he blows out the candles. Johnny’s taking a video of him blowing out the candles before dipping his finger into the icing. Jaehyun gives him a warning look but it’s too late because Johnny smears the icing on his cheek.

“You little shit—” 

“It’s midnight! Happy birthday, Jaehyun!”

12:01 am. 

It all happens quickly. Johnny’s dipping his fingers into the icing to smear more of it on Jaehyun’s cheeks. Jaehyun hears a slight ringing in his ears and his eyebrows knit together. Johnny doesn’t seem to notice how uncomfortable Jaehyun feels until he’s about to smear his cheeks with icing. 

“Jaehyun, are you alright?” Johnny asks him with a concerned look.

The ringing in his ears halts to a stop. He remembers this. He remembers his father telling him that he experienced a distinct ringing in his ears before he started to hear his mother’s voice humming in his head. Jaehyun blinks. The ringing in his ears causes him to see different specks of colours, red, blue, and even green. He feels like his head is spinning. He feels like he’s going to pass out. But it only happens for a brief moment.

Suddenly, he hears a soft voice humming a melody in his head. In an instant, the soft humming in his head stops him from seeing colours and he no longer feels faint. He’s too absorbed in his thoughts to snap back to reality. Johnny is waving his hand in his face to pull him out of his trance. Jaehyun sucks in a deep breath, almost like he’s gasping for air. The soft humming in his head slowly turns into a voice that’s singing an unfamiliar song. He’s never heard this song before.

Johnny sighs with relief when Jaehyun snaps out of his deep trance. Jaehyun looks at Johnny with slightly widened eyes. 

“Johnny, I think we have a problem.”

Johnny snorts. “What are you talking about? You’re probably just tired. We should head back to the dorms before you knock out cold in the studio again.”

Jaehyun runs his fingers through his hair. “R-Right. We should probably go.”

Johnny rests his hand on his shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s—everything’s alright.” Jaehyun stutters.

No, nothing’s alright. Nothing’s okay. 

His phone buzzes in his pocket. He pulls it out to see a new text notification from his girlfriend. 

ara (12:03 am): happy birthday my love! and happy valentine’s day! i love you 3000.

Jaehyun just turned twenty-one. Not only that, but he just started to hear his soulmate’s voice in his head. He should be happy, right? Wrong. There are two things wrong with this:

He’s taken. He’s off the market. He’s in a 3-year relationship and,

The voice singing in his head is not his girlfriend’s voice.

Well, shit. Now what?

It’s the day you dread with your entire existence; Valentine’s Day. The campus couples flock to the local cafes and parks, the dormitories and even the campus football field. It truly makes you want to throw up. If you could take a shot of vodka for every time you’ve witnessed a couple kissing or giving each other their Valentine’s Day chocolates, you’d be shitfaced drunk by now. 

The only person keeping you sane is Mark. But even with Mark’s presence, he’s too absorbed by the presence of his own girlfriend, Mina. You guess this will do. It’s not like you really have a choice.

Today, you’re going to get your new love assignment. You’re not sure who to expect. Every year, it’s become less surprising and more disappointing. You guess it has to do with your aching desire for love, but you’re not going to dive deep into that. 

You’ll know who your love assignment is when you meet their eyes. When you meet your love assignment’s eyes, you won’t see yourself reflected through their eyes, but their soulmate, their partner you’re supposed to link them to. The moment you witness it, your year to make them fall in love begins. 

Be careful though, time is ticking.

“Can you guys stop talking to each other in baby voices?” You snap at the couple sitting next to you on the picnic blanket. 

The couple had decided to bring you along on their picnic date, just because they figured that you needed to ‘spice’ your life up a bit. You feel like a huge burden to them because whenever you’re with them, all you do is complain about all the things they do as a couple. Could you really blame yourself at this point? 

“Y/N, if only you had a boyfriend, you would know how it feels.” Mina sticks her tongue out at you and you feel your eye twitch. 

Mark lets out a nervous laugh. “Y/N is an independent woman who doesn’t need a man—”

“Yeah, your boyfriend’s right.” You cut him off, looking at Mina dead straight in the eyes. “Got a problem with that?”

“Stop giving me attitude—”

“And stop acting like I didn’t help you and Mark get together.” You snap.

She smiles and laughs sheepishly. As she gets up onto her two feet, she dusts off her straight-cut jeans before pointing towards the local cafe. “Do you guys want anything? My treat.”

“I’ll have the usual,” Mark replies. “Take my card—”

“Babe, no—”

“I’m not letting you pay for our drinks again—”

You let out a scowl, placing some cash into Mina’s hand. “Here. I’ll pay. I’m this close to ripping my hair off my scalp and it’s because of you two.”

“Did you wake up on the wrong side of the bed this morning?” Mina frowns. “You’ve been petty all day.”

“Get me a double shot on ice,” you mutter. “No sugar or cream. Got it?”

“You’re just like how you like your coffee,” Mina folds her arms. “Bitter.”

As Mina is walking away from you and Mark, you fall back against the picnic blanket. The clouds come by in funny shapes today. You spot a tiny, heart-shaped cloud floating past in the blue skies. You snort, love seems to be everywhere today, even in the skies. Your eyes flutter shut. You’re so close to dozing off into a quick nap until you hear a loud yell from a couple of metres away. It’s too late for you to open your eyes and see who’s yelling because the moment you do, there’s a soccer ball flying in the air. The size of the soccer ball grows when you start to realize that it’s literally going to land right on your face—

“Nice save, dude.” Mark says as he looks at you with amusement. Just in time and with your fast instincts, you managed to cover your face with the palms of your hands to catch the ball. 

Mark’s pulling you up into a seated position. As you sit up, you see someone approaching you from the corner of your eye. 

“I’m so sorry about that!” A soft voice exclaims and you turn to your right. You look up at a woman around your age. She has long black hair and a soft face. She looks warmhearted. Her vibe radiates happiness and happy-go-lucky, welcoming and sociable. Everything you’re not. She’s sporting a soccer jersey and a pair of athletic joggers. “Are you alright? I hope you didn’t get hurt or anything.”

You wave it off. “I’m A-okay. There’s nothing to worry about. Here’s your soccer ball.”

She slightly bends down to retrieve her ball. Her long black hair blocks your eyesight for a brief moment until the wind blows it away. Your eyes meet hers and a soft gasp threatens to escape your lips. 

You’ll know who your love assignment is when you meet their eyes. Her eyes are a nice warm brown, shining underneath the sunlight. You swear you could see stars in her eyes. No, scratch that, you can see galaxies and stars in her eyes.

When you meet your love assignment’s eyes, you won’t see yourself reflected through their eyes, but their soulmate. And indeed, you look at her with slight surprise and shock when you don’t see your own reflection through her eyes. Instead, you see what seems to be a soccer player. The more you look into her eyes, the more information you obtain about her soulmate. He slowly turns around and it reveals his name on the back of his soccer jersey—

“Yuta?” You whisper.

The woman’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. She takes her ball and straightens up her posture. “Thanks again. What’s your name? I feel like I’ve seen you before.”

You snap out of it. “Y/N! My name’s Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

She smiles and her eyes form into beautiful crescents. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Ara. I should probably get going before I run late for lecture. See you around?”

You nod your head vigorously. “Yeah, I’ll see you around. Nice to meet you too, take care.”

You find yourself staring at her as she walks away. Mark looks at you as you seem to fall into a deep trance. He follows your gaze that falls on Ara. “Hey, is everything alright?”

You tear your gaze away from her to look at Mark. “What’s her name again?”

Mark looks at you with a funny smile. “You forgot her name already? Her name’s Ara.”

“Mark,” you gulp nervously. “She’s my love assignment for this year.”

Mark’s face pales. His funny smile vanishes from his face. He looks like he’s seen a ghost. You can’t seem to comprehend the expression on his face but you know that something’s not good. There’s an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach as Mark’s mouth hangs open.

“You’re joking, right?” Mark frowns. “How could Ara be your love assignment? That’s—That’s impossible, I—”

You shake your head. “I’m not joking. I didn’t see myself reflected through her eyes, I saw Yuta—”

“You saw Jaehyun.” Mark cuts you off. “Right? Jaehyun. You saw Jaehyun, right?”

You let out a nervous laugh. “Why would I see Jaehyun? I didn’t see Jaehyun. I saw Yuta, the university’s soccer team player. He was wearing a jersey and he turned around. I saw his name printed on his jersey. Nakamoto Yuta—”

“Please tell me you’re kidding.” Mark winces.

“I’m not kidding!” You exclaim in a panicked voice. “Why would I be kidding?”

Mark palms his forehead and lets out a laugh of disbelief. He shakes his head. You stare at him questioningly. What’s happening? What’s going on? 

“Mark, you’re confusing me.” You say with worry etched on your face. “I am telling you the truth. I saw Nakamoto Yuta reflected in her eyes—”

“Ara is Jaehyun’s girlfriend. They’ve been dating for three years. Now you’re telling me that Ara’s your love assignment and you don’t see Jaehyun reflected in her eyes… but Yuta?”

“Holy shit.”

“I’m back with our drinks! Wait, what’s wrong? Why are you guys looking at each other like that?”

The image of Yuta’s reflection in Ara’s eyes never seems to leave your mind. In fact, it has been the only thing haunting you ever since. The revelation leaves you in nothing but a spiralling mess. You are required to make Ara fall in love with her soulmate, who so happens to be Yuta. But at the same exact time, to complete your mission, you must do something to end Ara’s relationship with Jaehyun.

You wish it was a joke.

It all comes down to whether you have the heart to lead Ara to her destined soulmate and end her relationship with Jaehyun or leave things for her to figure out but lose your matchmaking abilities as a Cupid.

The sticky situation makes you want to pull your hair off your scalp. It makes you want to look up to the heavens and yell at your ancestors for being Cupids, for passing down their matchmaking abilities to every generation after them, and for passing down the curse of never falling in love. 

“Stop thinking about it too much, it’s making you age faster.” 

You glare at Mark. “I don’t even know Jaehyun personally but I’m sure he’s a great guy who deserves everything in the entire universe, not some soccer player and a so-called Cupid to ruin his three-year relationship with Ara.”

“What happens if you don’t make Ara fall in love with her soulmate within a year—oh, Johnny, hey!”

Your mouth clamps shut and your head whips around. Johnny occupies the empty seat next to you and greets you with a light nudge. He nods his head at Mark. “What happens if what?”

Mark gulps nervously. He lets out a squeak. “Nothing!”

Mark makes eye contact with you and you give him a warning gaze. Johnny shrugs his shoulders and brushes off the conversation by starting a new one. “Tonight at six. Jaehyun’s apartment. We’re going to have a chicken and beer night.”

“This is exactly what I needed—” Mark points at him.

“I think I’ll have to pass on that one. I have a—” 

“Uh, no you’re not.” Johnny shakes his head. “What excuse are you going to tell me this time? Your excuses are getting lamer every time. It’s quite obvious.”

You sigh. “I’d rather study. Besides, I have a midterm coming up and the last thing I want is to tank it.”

“It’s just one night. Chicken and beer. Who turns down chicken and beer? With friends, too?” Mark tries to convince you but you’re using your eyes to communicate the idea that this will not turn out well.

“Who’s coming?” You tear your gaze away from Mark when he doesn’t seem to take a hint. You’re reaching for your water bottle to take a quick sip of water.

“It’ll be me, Mark, Jaehyun, Jungwoo, Ara,” Johnny recalls the guests from the top of his head. “Oh! Yuta is coming too—”

You choke on your water. As you’re going through a coughing fit, Mark grabs your water bottle to prevent any more water from spilling onto the table. Johnny pats your back. “Y-Yuta? As in, Nakamoto Yuta?”

Johnny smiles. “Indeed. Why? Do you have a crush on him or something—”

“No!” You and Mark blurt out in unison.

Johnny gives you both a funny look. “Okay, geez, I was just joking around. Unless, you do, have a crush on Yuta, Y/N—”

“Look who we have here.” 

It’s a foreign yet familiar voice. You’ve heard that voice somewhere. You sneak a quick glance at Mark, whose eyes are wide like saucers. You could see his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he gulps nervously. Mark’s eyes trail down to meet yours. 

“Jaehyun! Ara! Perfect timing!”

Definitely not perfect timing. You mirror Mark with the same wide eyes. It’s almost as if you’ve shrivelled up or froze up into an ice statue. Johnny doesn’t seem to notice you shoving your things into your tote bag out of sheer panic. Mark’s eyes dart between you and the newly-arrived couple. 

“Hey, sorry, I completely forgot that I have a meeting with my group for our project.” It comes out as a squeak. Everyone’s looking at you and you can’t find the strength to look at any of them in the eye. But you can surely feel the attention that’s been shifted towards you. 

“Leaving already?” Johnny pouts. “I just got here—”

“Sorry!” You exclaim, standing up from your seat and making a beeline for the exit doors of the study room. You look over your shoulder. Johnny has a cute pout on his lips as he watches you scurry away from them. “I’ll make it up to you!”

“You’ll make it up to me by joining us tonight for chicken and beer!”

When Jaehyun and Ara take up the spot you used to sit at, Mark can’t help but look at Ara with round eyes. He just can’t seem to look at Ara the same way anymore, especially when she’s with Jaehyun. Mark decides to settle his gaze on Jaehyun instead, but he still feels the same. He can’t look at Jaehyun the same way either. The first person that comes to mind when he looks at the couple sitting across from him is Nakamoto Yuta. The second and last person that comes to mind is you.

There are two innocent people being brought into this mess. It’s you and Yuta.

And what’s worse is that Jaehyun and Ara are just as innocent.

You and Mark find yourselves standing in front of Jaehyun’s door. Surprisingly, it’s quiet. You don’t hear Johnny’s loud voice through the thin door. Instead, right when Mark knocks on the door, you hear someone’s faint shuffling that gets louder and louder as they get close to the door. The door swings open and your mouth slightly parts open. This is—?

“Jaehyun!” Mark exclaims, crashing into Jaehyun’s arms. 

You stand there awkwardly as you watch them embrace. Jaehyun pats Mark’s back until his eyes meet yours. Jaehyun. You’ve known of him. But now that you can put a face to his name, you’re immediately brought back to your freshman year, specifically your freshman orientation week. You’ve seen his face before. Jaehyun was amongst the popular freshmen in your year mainly due to his charisma and charm. By the end of freshman orientation week, he had become a magnet that attracted everyone to him. But not only did you remember him from orientation week, but you remember being one of the many people who were attracted to him. He had become your first university crush, but ever since orientation week, you never saw him again.

Until now.

“I’m guessing you’re Y/N?” Jaehyun asks and you find yourself snapping out of your trance. “I’d be surprised if you weren’t.”

You slowly nod your head. “Yes, that’s me.”

“The one that was scurrying away earlier?” He chuckles.

You roll your eyes. “God, please don’t remind me. That was embarrassing.”

“Nice to meet you,” he smiles and oh boy, are those dimples? 

You swoon. Too bad Jaehyun’s off the market. But at the same time, it’s a shame that you’re going to be the one to ruin his relationship and put him back on the market. You muster up a smile. “Nice to meet you too, Jaehyun.”

You and Mark make yourselves comfortable in Jaehyun’s apartment. Your eyes scan the place and just by the small touches to his apartment, you can pick up what kind of person Jaehyun is. From the LP turntable sitting in one corner of the room accompanied by a great stack of records—he has some exquisite taste in music—to the mini fridge filled with bottles of wine, you can tell that he’s a young man with an old soul. You turn to your right when you spot a piano and a microphone stand. It’s a makeshift studio in the opposite corner of his living room. He sings?

“I’ve heard many things about you from Johnny,” Jaehyun starts a conversation as he hands you a can of beer. “And Mark, of course.”

You open the can of beer to take your first sip, making sure to squint your eyes at Mark. “I hope they’re good things.”

He smiles. “There’s nothing to worry about. They put you up to the highest standard.”

You cough. “As they should.”

Mark scoffs. “You’re being too obnoxious right now.”

“Shut up,” you mutter, taking another sip of your beer. “What’s taking Johnny so long to get here? After scolding me for bailing out on every single function, here he is, pulling up later than promised.”

“Speaking of,” Jaehyun says as he stares at his phone. “His uber just pulled up. I’ll meet up with him downstairs. While I go fetch him, make yourselves comfortable.”

Jaehyun leaves you alone in silence. The moment Jaehyun shuts the door, Mark shoots you a cheeky grin. He’s wiggling his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but squint your eyes at him. 

“Why are you looking at me like that—”

“You like him, don’t you?”

You scoff in disbelief. “I do not like him like that—”

“You do.” Mark cuts you off. “I’m getting that type of energy from you—”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, I don’t like him like that. Besides, he’s in a relationship with Ara—”

“He’s in a relationship that you’re destined to end.” Mark reminds you and you frown. “What? It’s true!”

You shake your head and with a stern voice, you say, “I don’t like Jaehyun. I just find him... charming.”

“That’s all—”

“And handsome—”

“Oh—”

“And sweet.” You add. “But other than that, I don’t like him. I’m Cupid, remember? I’m cursed to never fall in love and so the chances of me liking Jaehyun? Very slim.”

Mark smirks. “But you find him charming, handsome, and sweet. Isn’t that more than enough to like someone?”

“There’s a very distinct line drawn between infatuation and love, Mark.” You state with a matter of fact. 

“So, you’re infatuated with Jaehyun—”

“What’s up party people, put your hands up!”

Both of your mouths clamp shut at Johnny’s freakishly loud voice echoing the apartment the moment he walks in. You dumbly put your hands up and Mark lets out a loud cackle. Entering right after him are Ara and—

“Yuta, my right hand and my go-to!” Mark exclaims.

You wish you were invisible, especially when Ara spots you on the couch and sends you a wave. You’re mustering up a very tight-lipped smile as you wave back at her. Great, this is going to be a long night. Jaehyun follows suit, throwing his arm over Ara’s shoulder and pecking her cheek. Mark sneaks a glance at you as you’re tearing your gaze away from the couple to take another sip of beer.

“Y/N actually came for once,” Johnny teases you. 

Everyone gathers around the small coffee-table. Scattered on the small table are three boxes of chicken along with a can of beer for everyone. You’re sitting right across from Yuta, who hasn’t uttered a single word since he got here. But surprisingly enough, his eyes meet yours and you quickly look away. Your heart begins to race. 

And your heart starts to beat much faster when Yuta never seems to break his stare at you for the rest of the night.

Yuta has definitely seen you before but he can’t seem to pinpoint exactly where he’s seen you. It must have been a fleeting moment, where the both of you passed by each other unknowingly. But after looking into your wandering eyes, after watching you chug a can of beer right across from him, he has found his answer.

Valentine’s Day.

He was biking on his way home after a three-hour lecture. Too many couples. He remembers the excessive amount of couples strolling down the busy streets. He remembers having the urge to rip his eyes out whenever he came to a stoplight and spotted a couple sharing a passionate (way too passionate) kiss. But he also remembers the sudden loneliness he felt.

Ara. He’s always found her pretty in her own special way. His first encounter with Ara was when she auditioned for the co-ed soccer team. He was seated at the bleachers as one of the head coaches who chose the new team members. She was everything he adored in someone. It was like she had her own glow whenever she ran down the field, with her hair bouncing as she ran. 

But too bad because she’s—

“Taken?”

Jaehyun let out a sigh on the other phone line. Yuta pursed his lips into a tight line. “Listen, I tried to get those concert tickets for you tonight through my connections. But all of the available seats are taken. Well, there are still some seats but the seats you wanted are gone.”

“Do you have tickets for other seats?” Jaehyun questioned.

“Yeah, but the seats are pretty far from the stage. Are you alright with that?”

He heard distinct chatter on the other phone line. He heard Ara’s soft voice and a smile threatened to escape his lips. Right… she’s taken by Jaehyun. “We’ll take them!”

“Perfect.” Yuta chuckled. “I’m on my way to your apartment, actually. I’ll be there in a couple of minutes to give you the tickets.”

Yuta turned to his right and into a familiar neighbourhood. He slowed down his bike when he reached Jaehyun’s apartment building. As he headed up a couple flights of stairs, he reached Jaehyun’s apartment completely out of breath. The door opened and he saw—

“Oh, hey, Ara.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously. “Is Jaehyun here?”

Ara beamed up at him and nodded her head. “Come in. You look like you’re out of breath. Do you want a glass of water, or something?”

“I’m good. Thanks.” He mumbled, too shy and nervous to utter anything other than those three words. Ara bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. God, why is he so nervous around her?

“Yuta!” Jaehyun said in a sing-song voice, greeting him with a fist-bump.

“Hey—oh?”

Yuta clamped his mouth shut when he looked into Jaehyun’s eyes. Jaehyun’s eyes sure do look pretty, he could see stars shining back at him. But that’s not what he saw.

He saw an unfamiliar woman. He’s never seen her before.

In Jaehyun’s eyes, he saw a woman holding what seemed like a microphone. She had headphones on and her face was illuminated by what he assumed was a laptop screen. She was singing a song he couldn’t hear. Yuta blinked, soaking in every little detail about the woman he saw in Jaehyun’s eyes. But it was not long until his face paled when he realized something terrible.

The woman he saw in Jaehyun’s eyes was not Ara.

Valentine’s Day. It’s the day he dreads the most out of the entire year. It’s the day where he receives his love assignment for the year. He has one year to make his assignment fall in love with their soulmate. But how is he going to do that when his love assignment is Jaehyun? 

Cupids are cursed to never fall in love. Although, Yuta does have sheer hope that he could definitely find love. How could he not, when he’s a hopeless fool in front of Ara? It’s this specific Valentine’s Day that he dreads the most out of all the Valentine’s Days he’s spent. Why? Because while he found out that Jaehyun’s soulmate isn’t Ara, that surely doesn’t mean that he has a chance with Ara. In fact, he’ll never have a chance with Ara. He could potentially be the man Ara will hate the most.

Because one way or another, he must tear Ara and Jaehyun apart.

author’s note. welp, i hope you enjoyed the first part! i should be able to post the second part after all of my midterms. look out for it! thank you for reading!

[warmblanketwhump]

Idk if its too late to send this in but if it isn't, how about ⬤ and ✿?

✿: feeling so out of it, they need constant attention

⬤: being called soft things like baby, sweetheart or honey

(note: this MIGHT be cheating but my poor brain was stuck on ideas SO this is a part two to this prompt fill! would recommend reading that first for context, but pretty sure you can enjoy them independently :)

To any other person, the remote cabin would have looked like any old shack – slightly dilapidated, covered in moss, nested away among the trees. But to a lost, soaked, chilled-to-the-bone A, the cabin looks like a warm little slice of heaven, and it takes all they have not to run up the stairs. Instead, they slide an injured B off of their back and help them hobble to the small porch.

The pair limp across the threshold of the cabin and leave the pattering rain behind them, entering a small, spotlessly clean living room that smells of cedar and pine. A large, squashy-looking couch faces a dark fireplace with a tall stack of split logs nearby, and to the right of the doorway is a small kitchen. In the back, A spots a darkened bedroom, a tiny bathroom, and a linen closet. The cabin's rustic, so there's no electricity or hot water - just a single spigot and a gas stove for cooking.

They set a trembling B on the couch, pushing away the guilt of yelling at them earlier, of making them come out here in the first place.

“I’ll find us some towels and blankets. Can you start getting your wet clothes off?” Amid their violent shivers, B nods and starts shedding A’s raincoat and their own denim jacket with pruned, fumbling fingers. The sight nearly crushes A, but they know someone has to go find blankets to help them both get warm.

A pushes into the bathroom and locates several clean, threadbare towels, then heads to the linen closet. They nearly burst into happy tears when they see the large bundle of hideous plaid blankets and a couple piles of flannel and thermal clothing stacked neatly in the corner (forgotten by whoever rented it last, they guessed) and grab as much as their numb fingers can hold.

When they return to the couch, they find B in nearly the exact spot they left them - denim jacket off one arm, on the other, rain jacket fallen to the floor. They're hunched over, stiff with cold, arms crossed tightly.

“Oh sweetheart.…” A sighs, dropping the blankets on the couch and rushing to them.

“T-tried to ch-change. F-fingers won't-t work-k. I’m s-sorry-”

“B, you have nothing to be sorry about. I should’ve helped you in the first place.” A unthreads the soaked clothing from B’s shaking frame, gently patting their wet skin dry and lightly squeezing the water droplets out of their hair with a towel.

B’s eyes are bleary and unfocused, but they respond to A’s simple commands as they dress them in a pair of warm red flannel pants and a grey thermal long-sleeve. A casts a glance towards B's swollen ankle - it's not the worst injury they've ever seen, but it's definitely got to hurt. They dart back to the bathroom and locate a small first aid kit with a cloth bandage, and tenderly wrap up the sore ankle to immobilize it.

When they’re finished, they wrap B in two blankets: one around their legs and elevated ankle, and the other over their wet head and trembling shoulders. B sneezes, cinches the blanket tighter and groans.

“Look-k like a Russian p-peasant woman.” B grumbles, and A can’t help but let a chuckle escape. They really do look like a grandma, with only their face sticking out of the blanket cape.

“Alright, then, babushka. Let me get a fire started, and I’ll join you in a minute.”

Mercifully, it only takes a few minutes for A to get a roaring fire going. A drapes another blanket around B's shoulders and gives them a quick, reassuring rub.

“I’m gonna change, okay? You just worry about warming up.” B moans weakly and pulls the blanket over their nose, edging closer to the flame’s heat.

A peels off their wet clothing in the drafty bedroom, hurriedly drying their own cold skin and pulling on their own warm clothes - a cream thermal and blue flannel pants. The brief exposure makes them shiver, and they chafe their arms and legs to rub away the goosebumps and the damp chill that sinks into their marrow. For just a moment, they acknowledge how cold they are, too. God, they wish this place had hot water.

The adrenaline of the moment begins to fade, and several facts strike them at once. They were freezing. They were stuck in a remote cabin with no electricity for the weekend. This whole weekend was their idea - and all their fault. And they felt guilty as hell about it.

Squeezing their wet hair, they shove the intrusive thoughts from their mind and grab a blanket from the bed to wrap tightly around their own shoulders, along with a couple pillows from the bed for B.

On returning to the living room, they see B managed to hop on their one good leg over to the fire, leaving a trail of two of their other blankets behind. They’re huddled as close as possible to the warm glow, head resting on the hearth. A drops the pillows on the couch and kneels down, running their fingers through B’s damp hair, now exposed by the fallen blanket.

“Feeling any better, love?”

B gives a small, wan smile that fails to light up their peaked face and shakes their head, turning to cough. When they’ve finished, they shudder weakly, pulling the blanket tighter.

“Can’t shake the chill in my bones.” B coughs again. A can see them rubbing their arms under the blankets. “Heat’s bouncing right off me. And I ache all over, not just my ankle.” Another chill rattles their teeth, and they pull the blanket up to their chin. “I just can’t warm up at all.”

A pulls a shivery B into a hug, rubbing their shoulders and trying to share the little body heat they’ve created - unlike B, the fire’s warmth is beginning to thaw them out. In the dim firelight, A can see a sheen of sweat on B’s forehead, and alarm bells go off. Instinctively, A reaches out to press their cold hand to it. It’s warm now. Too warm for someone who just spent two hours trekking through the cold rain.

"Sweetheart, you're feverish. That’s why you’re achy and chilled.”

“S’pose it makes sense. I’m just freezing.” A gust of wind rattles the cabin, and a draft snakes its way into the living room, making B shudder and curl up even closer to A. “I’d kill for a hot shower right now.”

“Don’t go all ‘The Shining’ on me yet - we just got here.” A grabs a towel to try and further dry B’s damp hair. It was probably an old wives’ tale, but they didn’t have many options to keep a sick person comfortable out here, and wet hair couldn’t feel good.

B had complained about feeling a cold coming on a couple days ago, and mentioned that they might not want to go this weekend. A had made fun of them for it, joking about how someone like B never let a little cold get them down. And now, thanks to them, B was even sicker. They really were the worst friend in history.

“Do you think you could manage some tea?" A asks quietly. B closes their eyes and nods, laying their head back on the hearth.


It takes a few minutes, but A manages to light the gas stove and locate a kettle, along with a dusty box of herbal tea tucked away in a cupboard. Whoever they had rented from had stocked it high with all kinds of canned soups and dry goods, so at least they’d be prepared for the long haul.

A sudden glance out the window reveals that the rain has turned into fat, white snowflakes, whirling in the sky and dusting the porch. A rubs their hands together, holding their chilled fingers as close to the stove flame as possible. The kettle whistles and A pours two cups, reveling in the warm steam that tickles their nose.

Once the tea is brewed, they make their way back to the fireplace. B's too weak to lift their own head, so A sits behind them and props them up, holding the teacup and helping them take small sips of the warm liquid. Once the cup is empty, A helps B lay their head back on the hearth before adding a few more logs to the fire and starting on their own tea.

Despite the warm fire, A can feel the ambient temperature of the room dropping. There's no way B's going to stay warm enough in the bedroom, so they’ll just have to make do out here for now.

After pushing the couch until it's just inches in front of the fire, A sweeps B into their arms and helps them back to the couch, easing them gently onto the pillows they've laid and tucking a blanket back around them. Even this close to the fire, the brief movement had set off another round of bone-shaking chills in B, and they grip their blanket so hard A’s afraid they’ll tear it.

“A?" B's voice is weak.

“I’m right here.”

“A, can you hold me? Please?” The desperation is palpable. B’s breathing is hoarse and they're close to tears, arms wrapped tightly around themselves. “Shivering hurts, but I can’t stop. I know you probably don’t want to get sick from me-”

A’s heart breaks. “Don’t be silly. Of course I’ll keep you warm.” They slide onto the couch and wrap their own blanket around the both of them, pulling B’s fevered body to their chest. B clings to their body, and A can feel the shakes that ripple through them. A gently massages their arms and back in slow circles and B presses closer, the vulnerability almost too much to bear.

Finally, A says what’s been eating away at them for hours. “B, I’m so sorry for what I said on the trail. I shouldn’t have said it, and I didn’t mean it. I do want you here. And now we’re here, and you're sick and hurt and it’s my fault, and I’m sorry for that too.” The apology comes out in such a rush, and B is quiet for so long in their arms that they doubt B even heard it.

But then they feel B’s trembling arms squeezing their waist. “Nature’s not your fault, A. Besides, if being taken care of is a part of your apology, it's warm and I'll take it."

A grips B even tighter, fighting back tears. “Whatever happens this weekend, I’ve got you. You know that, right?”

“‘Course I do. You always have,” B mumbles as they slip into a restless sleep. In front of the warm fire, A reasons that the drafty bedroom was probably too cold for anyone to sleep in. No, they were perfectly content to stay right here with B - and not even the promise of a warm shower could lure them away.

[ramblingsekai]

Alright so translations for the area convos came out faster than I thought they would lol. So here I am, writing my thoughts on the different April Fools Event groups. Also, sorry if this a little messy, this is actually my second time writing this. My browser froze and closed itself when I was like 75% through it and deleted everything I wrote lol. I also don’t really remember much of what I wrote, but hopefully I get mostly everything the same again. Also, if I get something wrong, let me know. Let’s goooo. (Yeah it got long again and I don’t want to end up losing this draft, so I’m going to divide the groups into different posts. So I guess this is Part 1 of 5 or more)

So the area conversations I got from this video (https://youtu.be/VHvzVJFRK8Y) and I got the character comments from this video (https://youtu.be/Hl3S-snFwMg) . Also I’ll only be talking about the groups and not really the songs. You can look at my previous April Fools Event post to see my thoughts on the songs. I’m also a little biased with groups and these are just observations and speculations for fun.

1st group - Aoharu/Friends

Aoharu/Friends was started by Saki and Ichika. Saki was the one who recruited Airi and Airi was the one who invited Ena to the band. From what I can tell with this group, they seem to emphasize youth a lot and seem to be trying to enjoy their teenage years while being in a band. I don’t think they mention going pro and I wonder if they’re all sort of treating this as like a hobby or club-like activity. I guess without Shiho there to push them towards going pro, Ichika and Saki are sort of just content to enjoy the experience, but it also makes you wonder how long before they stop. From the sounds of it too, Airi is the bassist for the band and Ena is on the drums. Ena mentions still practicing the drums, but she also doesn’t seem to mention drawing at all. I wonder if Ena ended up giving up drawing and art since in this AU, 25ji doesn’t seem to exist. Without being 25ji’s illustrator, I wonder if Ena lost motivation to keep practicing art and decided to join this band as a way of finding some form of happiness. Alternatively, if Ena still is practicing art, I wonder if it’s being pushed to the side so that she can also focus on learning the drums. I think Ena might still have her not-Instagram account though since she mentions getting the camera angles right in one of the area convos.

And then Airi. She still mentions how she retired from being an idol so that’s still the same. The main difference with her is that she never met Minori. So I was totally wrong thinking that Airi ended up never becoming an idol like in my OG AFE AU post. But still, when Airi joined the band, she still thought of inviting Ena to join. So I wonder if maybe they’re closer in this AU. Especially since Airi doesn’t seem to be close with Shizuku or Haruka in this AU. She mentions that a colleague of hers is starting a new group and we all know who that group is. But still, she says colleague rather than friend.

So yeah, obviously with Ichika and Saki, they don’t form a band with Shiho and Honami. Now we’re all kinda assuming that they just never made up. I could see it going either way. Like maybe they do eventually make up or they did make up with Shiho and Honami, but those two just didn’t want to join the band. Still, I kinda like the theory that Saki wasn’t able to fix their friendship and as a result Saki had to look elsewhere to fill the band. I wonder if maybe Saki either gave up more easily on trying to connect with Shiho & Honami again, were rebuffed more harshly by the two, or (least likely theory imo) Saki just simply didn’t even bother to talk to Honami and Shiho again.

But still, from what I can tell Aoharu/Friends seems to just be a band where some friends are trying to enjoy their teenage years while jamming out. They don’t have Shiho’s intensity there to push them to reaching pro levels, Airi seems to be trying to move on from her idol days by joining a band & enjoying her youth, and Ena, well with Ena I guess she’s trying to reclaim some part of her youth. She mentions how dazzling Ichika and Saki are and I wonder if a part of her is envious of them in some form. Did this Ena give up on her art dreams and regrets wasting time on it? Does this Ena feel lost in where to go? Hard to say. Ena here (or at least the way interactions are portrayed) seems to put more emphasis on the age gap between her and Ichika/Saki for some reason. I know in 25ji Mizuki is technically the only one who was a 1st year, but I feel like the friendship btwn Mizuki & Ena doesn’t ever really bring up that age gap. So to see Ena here being called a grandma and being a senpai, I wonder if Ena’s main problem will revolve around youth. I don’t think talent will be an issue as much here since Ichika and Saki work hard for the band through practice. And Ena would see them struggling. Airi as well since she also puts in a ton of effort. Since there’s not 25ji, Ena doesn’t encounter ‘naturally talented’ people like Kanade or Mafuyu who would cause her to confront her problems with talent. So maybe this Ena would end up being more focused on youth.

I like this group. On the surface, they seem like a light-hearted youth band group. (Disclaimer: I never really watched school band anime so I’m a little unsure of what exactly that entails lol). However, each of them have some underlying issues that get kinda addressed in the OG timeline (Leo/need make up and form a band, Airi reclaims her dream of being an idol, Ena is slowly progressing on her journey of being an artist), but I’m not sure if they’ll actually address them in this timeline unless something major pushes them. I could easily seem them all grow up and might think back about problems  or decisions that were left unsaid. I don’t think they’d regret being in a band, but something is definitely missing. But who knows. We only got like 3 area convos and 4 character comments and it’s kinda unfair to compare the 2 timelines with how limited info we have.

Thanks for reading. I’m gonna make other posts for the other groups bc this is long already. Expect them soon. Let me know your thoughts too! Do you disagree, did I miss something, am I just bullshit?

[reidingmelodies]

Dinos and Tigers and Donuts, Oh My!

Summary: Spencer wanted one thing this year: for your kids to plan his perfect Father’s Day Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Includes: dad!Spencer, heavy mentions of Father’s Day, mentions and consumption of food Category: Fluff Word Count: 2.6k A/N: This isn’t my favorite, but it’s been sitting in my drafts for awhile all the same! Happy Sunday ♥️

 When Spencer was called away on cases your house seemed to lose a bit of its charm.  Mornings felt more tiring than ever before, the afternoon slumps dragged on for what seemed like years, and dinners, even with babbling five and seven-year-olds at your side, were a little too quiet.

This time around though, things were different.  You woke up to your five-year-old daughter sitting by your feet, her mind preoccupied by one of the search and find books Spencer had bought her the week prior.

The space next to you was empty, a piece of paper lying where your husband previously was, and you knew exactly what it was going to say before you even picked it up.

Good morning, love,

I got called on a case this morning, but it’s local and the team thinks we can wrap it up by tonight.  The kids both ate breakfast- and PSA that they were a little too excited I was going to be gone for the day.  I don’t know what they’re planning, but good luck.  I love you, and I’ll see you soon.

-Spencer

Unlike Spencer, you knew exactly what the kids were excited for, and it had everything to do with Father’s Day being tomorrow- you just hoped he would be home in time to celebrate like he predicted.

You folded the letter and placed it in your nightstand along with the others you’ve found gracing his pillow in years past when your bedroom door opened just the slightest amount.

In walked your seven-year-old son, comically exaggerating his tip toe motions as he stage whispered to his sister.  

“Is Mommy still sleeping?” He shifted his gaze in your direction, all effort to keep quiet out the window when he saw your eyes meet his.

“Mom! Guess what?” you opened your mouth to respond, but your daughter beat you to the punch.

“Daddy left for a work trip this morning!  So, we can make our plan today while he isn’t here!”

There was no denying that your kids loved their daddy, that was for sure.

“That’s so great!” you matched their enthusiasm with ease, getting ready for the day while they kept brainstorming in the background.  

Just last week, you had asked Spencer what he wanted to do for Father’s Day over dinner, and the children were as attentive as ever, eyes wide and lips pursed as they waited to hear the plans for the big day.

But, to their amusement, Spencer’s only plan was that they plan the entire day.  His reasoning was that they were the reason he was a dad so they should be the ones to decide what to do, but really you knew the truth was that he overheard their whispers about having the perfect plan for his day.

A plan you were finally going to be let in on, so it seemed.

The three of you made your way down to the kitchen where you settled down with your breakfast, eyebrows raised in enjoyment at your children.  They were sat across from you with a stash of markers and fresh index cards, and they had a few stacks of previously filled out index cards resting along the center of the table.

Ah- so that’s where they’re going with this.

It had become a bit of a family tradition to have a family scavenger hunt whenever you had a full weekend together.  You and Spencer were all too familiar with the concept of cherishing the time you have with your loved ones, and there were many a weekend where Spencer was called away, or you were busy with a million other plans ranging from extended family gatherings to birthday parties or weddings.

It was all the more reason to make the moments where it was just the four of you count even more- and thus, family scavenger hunts were born.

When they were toddlers, the scavenger hunts centered around finding certain shapes or colors, be it in the house or at the park.  Once every item was checked off you would have a family outing of their choice: the go to choice used to be another trip to the park (the one with the ‘fancier’ slides this time), but with the upgrade to slightly harder scavenger hunts centered on science and math they’ve upped their prize to ice cream.

What could you say? They were Spencer’s kids through and through.

“Wow!” you exclaimed, relishing in the beaming smiles on their faces, “do you guys want to make a scavenger hunt for daddy?”

Two enthusiastic faces nodded eagerly in your direction as your son grabbed one of the red markers.

“Yes! And we can have dino pancakes in the morning and get donuts after our scavenger hunt at the zoo- all of daddy’s favorite things!”

Dino pancakes were a Sunday morning staple in your home- you would use a cookie cutter to cut out a dinosaur shaped pancake, and the kids would eat those while you and Spencer would eat the ones with the dinosaur outline in them (and a few regular ones for good measure).  But donuts instead of ice cream?  That was new.

“That’s a great idea, I’m so proud of you guys for working together to plan this,” you praised, “but why donuts?”

Your daughter peered up from the index card she was drawing flowers on to answer your question, “because they’re daddy’s favorite and it’s daddy’s day!”

“And for our scavenger hunt we want all the animals to spell out ‘best dad ever’,” your son tacked on at the end, already beginning the task of writing numbers and circling them on the front of the card.

That was another newfound tradition for your family.  Now that the kids were learning to read, the two of you would try to have the first letter of each answer spell out a certain word or phrase.  Sometimes, it would be something like ‘I love you’ or ‘hello’, other times it would be the name of a special someone that would be joining you for ice cream afterwards (so far ‘Aunt Penny’ and ‘Uncle D’ were their favorite ones to come across).

You grinned once more, moving to grab your laptop and pulling the Smithsonian’s National Zoo site up to look at their list of animals.

“Alright, my loves- let’s do this”.

***

Three hours, eleven index cards, one snack break, and two very patient children later, your scavenger hunt was finished, index cards clipped and ready to go for the following morning.

Each index card had blank slots, the number of which corresponded to the name of the animal, on the front of the card with three fun facts written on the back.  In retrospect, Spencer wouldn’t even need the slots (or more than one fun fact, to be fair), but you knew he’d make a show of trying to think of each and every animal tomorrow afternoon.

Yet another reason you loved him.

The rest of the day passed by in a blur, all of your energy going into spending time with your kids. But once they went to bed, that energy was refocused into prepping for tomorrow to take your mind off the fact that it was nearing 10 PM and your husband wasn’t there.

You couldn’t bear to think of your kids disappointment if he didn’t make it home that night.

Outfits out and pancakes ready to be made, you made your way to the couch when the clock struck 11:30 PM, ready to settle in for a movie while you awaited his return but there was no need- as you walked into the room your husband made his way through the front door.  He looked as exhausted as ever, but the glimmer in his eyes proclaimed what you knew to be true.

He was happy to be home.

***

7 AM the next morning found you face to face with two wide eyed children gently shaking you awake, joy radiating from them as they saw that their father was fast asleep next to you.

With much persuasion in the form of puppy dog eyes, you made your way out of bed and into the kitchen to start the first task of the day: dino pancakes.  

Your little helpers set the table and brought Spencer’s gifts from the coat closet and into the dining room in the meantime, and as you placed the last pancake on a plate two arms wrapped around you and pulled you back tightly.

“Good morning, darling,” his raspy morning voice brought a soft smile to your face, and you leaned your head back to kiss his lips in greeting.

“Happy Father’s Day, Spence,” you laid another kiss against his lips, pulling back as the patter of little feet made their way into the kitchen.

“Daddy!  Happy Father’s Day!”

“Daddy!  Come see your gifts and eat pancakes!”

Two little voices fought for the spotlight, and Spencer kneeled to the ground to wrap the both of them in a hug.  You laughed at the scene, watching as they squeezed him just as hard before grabbing onto his arm and leading him to the dining room table.

“C’mon, Dad,” your son pulled his chair out and pushed his gifts closer to his seat, “let’s eat and open gifts!”

“Gifts?  You guys know I don’t want anything,” his brows furrowed as he looked at you, but you shrugged your eyes and took a bite of your pancakes in response.

“You always say that,” you rightly claimed, “and we always buy you gifts anyway- it’s practically tradition”.

You had a point, there.

Breakfast passed by in a blur of conversation, dad jokes, and present unwrapping.  And just like that, Spencer was the owner of new books to pass his time on the jet, a 5k puzzle you were sure he’d solve in an hour flat, and a homemade Father’s Day shirt with your children’s handprints decorating a globe, the words ’Best Dad in the WORLD!!!’ gracing the blank space.

His eyes sparkled when he saw the shirt, and you swore you’ve never been happier to call that man your husband and the father of your children.

Granted, that thought passed your mind no less than fifteen times a day, but still.

Within the hour, the four of you were out the door and on the way to the zoo, Spencer’s Father’s Day shirt proudly on display.

You drove with a grin, the radio turned off in favor of listening to your children explain today’s scavenger hunt to Spencer.  They were practically giving a word for word verbatim of what the two of you usually told them pre-scavenger hunt, all the more proof that your kids were sponges.

An equally exciting yet terrifying thought.

You were at the zoo within half an hour, your hand intertwined with your son’s while your daughter latched onto her father, everyone eager to start the scavenger hunt.

“Alright, guys,” Spencer began, “what’s our first clue?”

“Mommy can read it!” your daughter piped up and you nodded, grabbing the small pile from her hands before reading the first card of the day.

“Okay, so!  This animal has six letters in its name, and your three fun facts are: whiskers help this animal detect objects around them which helps them navigate the dark, they’re the largest rodents in North America, and when they’re in danger they slap their tail on the surface of the water” you finished your explanation and watched as Spencer’s eyes lit up in recognition, but just as you predicted he dragged the process out instead of guessing right away.

“Hm, it sounds like we should go to the rodent exhibit first!” He proclaimed, and your kids nodded, walking in a row like little ducklings to the exhibit.

The four of you took your time looking at each of the animals, until you came face to face with the animal in question.  “Aha! I think the animal we’re looking for is a beaver,” his answer was met with cheers from both of your children, and you wrote the answer in the blank slots before continuing with the hunt.

At the end of the hour you added an electric eel, sloth bear, tiger, dama gazelle, alpaca, and degu to the list.  Eight animals down, four to go.

Which was fantastic, considering that your kids were starting to get antsy for donuts.

“Okay, guys!  Are we ready for our next animal?” You were walking hand in hand with Spencer, your kids skipping directly in front of you and eagerly shouting in affirmation at your question.

The four of you stepped to the side, and you grabbed hold of the fourth to last index card before reciting the hints.

“Alright so!  This animal is two words, seven letters in the first word and seven in the second.  They have whiskers that look like mustaches, they’re native to the southwest Amazon Basin, and they have claws on each of their toes but the big one”.

“Hmm.. I don’t know guys, what do you think?” Spencer turned to your children, smiling wide when your son giggled in response.

“We can’t tell you, Dad! It’s a secret”.

Spencer laughed, sighing in defeat as your daughter gestured for him to come closer.  He did as asked, leaning down until she able to reach his ear, “I think we should go to the monkey exhibit!”

Her not so quiet whisper brought a smile to both yours and Spencer’s faces, and a grimace to your son’s but to the monkeys you went, where you came face to face with an Emperor Tamarin.

From there you crossed a Von der Decken’s Hornbill and an Eld’s Deer off your list until you had one animal left.

“Alright, my love- last one! This animal is two words, three letters in the first one and five in the second.  They mainly eat bamboo, their fur acts like a camouflage when they climb in trees, and they live in temperate forests in the Himalayas,” you finished your spiel with a quick eyebrow raise towards your children, both of which were not so discreetly pointing at the red panda exhibit just a few feet away.

“Is it a red panda?” Spencer asked, giving both your kids high fives when they jumped up and down in excitement.

“Yay Daddy, you got it! And guess what all of the first letters spell? Best dad ever!” your daughter jumped into his arms and Spencer chuckled, spinning her around and laying a gentle kiss on her head.

“Is that so?” he asked, “you three are too nice to me”.

Truthfully, you didn’t think it was possible to be too nice to Spencer.

“How about our last surprise for Daddy now, my loves?” your question was met with enthusiasm from your little family, and you were back in your car and on your way to Spencer’s favorite bakery in ten minutes flat.

As you pulled up to the bakery, two eager children and one extremely happy father made plans as to what donuts they were going to eat.

It was decided that Spencer would get a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles, your son would get a glazed donut, and your daughter would get jelly.

And you? You had every intention to get your favorite too, but above all you were just happy that another amazing Father’s Day was in the books for Spencer.

The seventh of many.

***

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[whoacanada]

Zimmerbro AU

Summary: Andrew Phillip Rowe could skate before he could walk, and it wasn’t until he was almost twenty and well on his way to becoming a Las Vegas Ace before he knew why.

a/n: that’s right we’ve got a secret zimmermann brother au based on the fact that Bob was an active pro athlete for almost 15 years before Jack was born and almost definitely had relationships before Alicia. This particular one resulted in a secret love child.

When the call finally went out that year —  a request for players willing to billet the incoming draftees —  Andrew had been the first in line.

His already sparsely decorated guest room had been primed for a new tenant since he’d learned Las Vegas’ abysmal season had earned them the first pick of the 2009 draft. In his mind, Andrew had envisioned a tearful confession. A family reunion nineteen years in the making where he’d finally get a chance to connect with a half-brother he’d grown up learning about through news articles and stats pages.

He wasn’t ready for Jack to pull out of the draft days before the ceremony; wasn’t ready for the claims of an overdose or speculation about suicide attempts. He certainly wasn’t expecting to have to open his home to a young man with limp blonde hair and deep circles under his eyes with the same enthusiasm he’d promised he’d offer to a son of Bob Zimmermann.

Andrew was hoping for a little brother. 

He got Kent Parson instead.

______

“You remind me of my boyfriend.” Kent slurs one night, completely gone on Johnny Walker Blue borrowed from Andrew’s wet bar. “It’s your . . . face.”

“Shouldn’t talk about things like that,” Andrew cautions gently, covering his own surprise. “Never know who might be listening.”

“Who fucking cares? He won’t talk to me,” Kent continues, ignoring him and sniffing like he’s on the verge of sobbing or puking, both options equally unwanted. “They wouldn’t tell me if he was even alive.”

Another unwanted puzzle piece locks into place.

“Jack?” Andrew suggests softly, and Kent begins to cry.

“You won’t tell right?”

Andrew shakes his head no, long enough for Kent’s bleary eyes to focus on the gesture and take it seriously.

Things are different, after that conversation. Not worse, or better, just different.

________

“He’s my brother.”

Andrew admits this one night, for no reason other than that he can.

Kent is across the room, backlit by lights from the Strip, his legs dangling off the arm of his favorite couch as he scrolls through his phone looking for distractions. Parse hasn’t lived with Andrew for almost two seasons, but he still turns up like a bad penny whenever he needs to commiserate with someone who knows his more lascivious secrets. Truthfully, Andrew’s grateful for the company. He’s a pretty genial guy, but he’s always kept his distance, a personality trait he likes to think he shares with an unassuming sibling, but there’s no way to know for sure. The farther Andrew gets from the 2009 Draft, the less faith he has in a reunion that won’t just bring crippling sorrow to everyone involved.

A secret Zimmermann son who actually made it in the NHL. Who has his name on the Stanley Cup, not once, but twice, largely thanks to the spitfire forward lounging in Andrew’s living room.

“Who’s your brother?” Kent asks, not looking up from his phone.

“Jack Zimmermann.”

Kent barks a laugh and rolls his head lazily to smirk at Andrew.

“That’s funny. I guess you kinda have the same chin. Was Marky digging for chirps?”

Andrew has no idea what that means, but he sets down his tablet and says, “No, he’s actually my half-brother. My mom dated Bad Bob in ’84 and got pregnant.”

The lackadaisical smile on Kent’s face falters as his gaze sharpens, like he’s actually looking at Andrew for the first time. Andrew responds by gesturing at himself lamely.

“That’s not funny.”

“No.” Andrew agrees. “It isn’t.”

Kent swings his feet down off the couch and braces himself against the overstuffed leather. He doesn’t look mad, but there’s something too close to disbelief for Andrew to convince himself everything’s okay. It takes a moment, but Kent must find what he’s looking for on Andrew’s face.

“Does Bob know?” Kent asks with that familiar overfamiliarity, as if they both still have some personal relationship with the living legend.

“Yeah. When Mom got pregnant she told him she didn’t want the attention since it was only a fling — ”

“Who the fuck doesn’t lock down Bob Zimmermann?” Kent breathes. “Also, why the fuck did she tell you that?”

“No shit, right? She got him to sign away parental rights, set up a trust, never spoke to him again as far as I know. I didn’t find out until after I signed with the Aces. She didn’t want me to get blindsided if it all came out, but the story never broke.”

“I mean, does Bob know who you are?” Kent questions. “Does Jack?”

Andrew shakes his head no, because he doesn’t think so, and Kent flops back against the cushions, face slack with disbelief; it doesn’t take long for his features to shift to anger.

“You knew this whole time and you didn’t tell me? Even after I told you —“

“Okay, there’s a whole-ass difference between you fucking dudes and and me being ‘Bad Bob’s bastard’,” Andrew bites, curtailing Kent’s imminent hissy fit. Appropriately, Kent closes his mouth, almost pouting.

“Fine. But that’s fucked.” Kent says after a loaded moment of silence. “I’m sorry you’re . . . you.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry you’re you, too.”

“You know Jack’s signing with the Falconers, right?” Kent offers like the worst kind of olive branch, unintentionally telling Andrew exactly what he was up to during that stretch of time between New England games a few months prior. “It’s not public but it’s happening. Ink’s dry.”

“I know. That’s why I told you. It’s gonna be weird,” Andrew swallows, thinking about playing Providence in the coming months.

“Fucking right it’s weird.”

_________

For the most part, the Las Vegas Aces are decent, stand up guys. Even with the accusations of gambling debts and mob connections with the ownership group, Andrew’s never been asked to hit a certain player a little too hard, or to take a dive so the other team gets a shot at a power play. A lot of talk, a lot of conspiracies, ‘Typical Aces hockey’, but there’s no malice. Not really.

Andrew thinks it’s hilarious he plays the game a lot like his estranged father, but he’s not a legend in the making, hell, at this point he’s barely regarded as more than a mid-level, reliable center that can bring home 40 points a season.

Carly whips behind Zimmermann’s back to clip his skate with a stick, dropping a ill advised chirp that sets every player in earshot on edge. Parse is close enough to catch the quiet slur, stiffening like he’s been hit, and Andrew watches Zimmermann recover quickly, steely and resolute. 

Jack has his mother’s eyes — not the warm brown Andrew catches every time he looks in the mirror.

“He’s a fucking goon,” Andrew breathes, gliding up to Jack’s shoulder in lieu of an apology. Zimmermann doesn’t miss a beat, his gaze flicking to Andrew with the quiet rage of ‘who gives a fuck’. Andrew admires his commitment to the game. Coming back after so much, after so long, to willingly subject himself to the same kind of treatment that Andrew knows likely led to his original fall from grace.

“Hey,” Kent ducks his head as he slides up a little while later, mouthguard clenched between his teeth, and asks, “You see his twink?”

At Andrew’s obvious confusion, Kent jerks his head toward the glass behind the Falconers’ bench, to a raucous group of fans all sporting fresh Zimmermann jerseys. Andrew’s gaze drifts along the row of faces, lingering longer on the familiar, handsome couple beside the blonde young man. He may be imagining things — the stadium lights catching a bad angle —  but for the briefest moment, Andrew holds eye contact with his father.

“He’s cute, right?” Kent says bitterly, like he doesn’t have a partner of his own back home.

“Yeah, he is. You gonna do anything about the slurs, Captain?” Andrew counters, earning a stern look from Parson.

“I’ll deal with Carly.”

“Oh, you will? Because I’ve never seen you shut him down before.”

“I’ll handle it.”

Kent’s expression goes stormy, and he gives Andrew a hard shove before skating off to set up for the next shift. To his credit, he does grab Carly by the arm and tell him something that earns a look of displeasure from the larger man, but Andrew knows a verbal warning won’t curtail someone as dead-set in his conservatism as Carly.

The next play, Carly flashes Andrew a toothy smile over the lineman’s shoulder, as if they’re in on the same joke, and his vision goes red.

__________

__________

“Bad Bob’s outside,” Scraps rasps, like whatever brief interaction he’s just had has physically winded him. “He wants to talk to Flip.”

Andrew blinks up from the water bottle in his hands, previously concerned with the pink-stained gauze wrapped around his knuckles. A few of the guys start chirping, but most of them remain silent, still processing the fact that Andrew assaulted one of their own without clear motivation, in defense of an opponent.

“That’s what this was all about? You gunning for a trade?” Sorenson spits from his stall. “Needed to impress Bad Bob by beating the snot out of Carly?”

“Maybe I am,” Andrew sighs, pushing himself to his feet, wincing at the way his jaw aches from the few good hits Carly had managed to squeeze in before he went down. “What the fuck are you gonna do about it.”

_______

Andrew’s grateful he kept his skates on. He needs the boost of confidence that comes with the added height, especially when he finds Bob Zimmermann waiting patiently in the corridor like he’s just another staff member and not the second most recognizable figure in modern hockey.

“Hey kid,” Bob greets, casting an approving, overly-familiar eye over Andrew’s padded bulk and sweat-slick hair. “You can throw a hell of a punch. Don’t think I’ve ever seen a guy beat the piss out of a teammate before. Off ice, sure, but never during a game.”

His accent is just as thick in private as every interview Andrew’s ever caught live — but his tone is unexpectedly warm, even grateful — when Bob laughs at his own recounting of Andrew’s assault attempt, the sound is light and joyous like nothing in the world comes easier to this titan of a man.

Andrew wonders if Bob can recognize the chin they share beneath a his playoff beard; if there’s any resemblance left in a nose that’s been reset a half-dozen times.

Andrew grew up loved and never wanted for anything. His step-fathers, both of them, had been good men who never left him looking for a father figure. It wasn’t until his twenties that Andrew even realized there was hole where his bio-dad should have been, and not just a regular hole, a yawning sinkhole threatening to devour his entire sense of self, because his biological father turned out to be a man he grew up idolizing as a personal hero.

He’s not mad at his mother, but when Andrew struggles to find his voice — which is bullshit seeing as he’s almost thirty-five and a god-damned professional athlete — he can’t stop himself from feeling like a misplaced child.

“Do you,” Andrew swallows, looking over Bob’s shoulder to see if anyone’s watching them. Finding they’re alone, he rallies quietly, “Do you know who I am?”

Bob’s jovial expression softens into something remorseful, but unfathomably kind. “I do, buddy,” he acknowledges, somehow squeezing three decades of affection into one term of endearment. “I’ve known for some time, now. The whole time, actually.”

That hurts more than expected.

“Does your wife? Does Jack?”

Bob shakes his head, but it isn’t a hard no.

“Alicia knows, and Jack has some idea he’s got a half-brother, but it’s all in the abstract. No specifics. Definitely doesn’t know you play. I wanted to respect your privacy and your mother’s wishes. She let me know she’d told you the truth a few years back and I wanted to give you the space you needed if you decided to reach out. When you didn’t, well, a man makes assumptions.”

Andrew looks down at the concrete beneath his skates and sniffs hard, fighting nasal drip from the smelling salts he’d needed in the third period; or, at least, that’s what he tells himself. “I had a plan, back when — ” he stops himself, looking down at his skates. Bob’s eyebrows lift in curiosity, leaving room for Andrew to gather his thoughts, but he doesn’t take the bait, unable to bring up what could have been just yet. Bob seems to grasp the context after the moment.

“2009,” he acknowledges softly. “Hell of a year.”

“Yeah. It was. Is he okay?”

“What, Jack? He’s leagues ahead of where he was then —”

“No, I mean, tonight. Carly clipped him pretty hard before I got in there.”

“Oh, a little bruised up, but he’ll live. Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Okay.”

Andrew looks down at his bandaged fist and realizes he’s completely forgotten how gnarly his face must look.

“Trainer says I’m alright, but I’m gonna get leveled with a wicked fine, I know it.”

“Was it worth it?” There’s a look of guilty pride on Bob’s face, like the man’s enjoying himself a little too much when he leans in and whispers, “You just did something I’ve wanted to do since Jack was in mites. Fucking lay out one of those fuckers that’s got nothing better to do than bitch because they can’t play,” there’s a moment of hesitation, as if he’s worried about pushing a boundary, before he adds, “How’d it feel to look out for your little brother?”

Pride, it turns out, in contagious, and Andrew feels like he could go back on the ice and do it all over again. “Pretty fucking great,” Andrew can’t help a smile, wincing when the gesture pulls at his split lip.

Bob slaps a hand on Andrew’s shoulder pads, then gets a grip on the back of his head, heedless of his sweaty hair.

“Crisse, you’re a fuckin’ beaut, kid. I’ve wanted to tell you that for years.”

Andrew can’t blame the smelling salts anymore.

__________

Jack clearly doesn’t see his father standing there with red-rimmed eyes, or Andrew in an equally unkempt state, and has no reason to think anything untoward has happened when he offers a handshake and pulls Andrew into a hug, bouncing his free fist off the back of Andrew’s pads. “I owe you a drink,” Jack says decisively when he pulls back, shooting a grin between his father and Andrew. “Can’t believe you did that.”

“More than a drink, I think,” the blonde guy Andrew saw behind the bench pipes up. Jack’s ‘twink’. Boyfriend. Whatever. “Dinner at least.”

“A pie,” Bob suggests tightly, keeping his voice even as he turns to quickly scrub his fist over his eyes. Andrew recognizes the statuesque woman who strides up beside Bob, and one quick look tells him she definitely knows who he is.

“Hello, Andrew,” Alicia greets softly, genuinely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

“You, too.” he says, the tightness in his throat coming out as gruffness rather than emotion. “This is great, but I should go shower and, uh, it was nice meeting you all.”

Bob’s hand whips out and fists the sleeve of Andrew’s sweater, keeping him in place.

“You have plans tonight?”

Andrew debates lying, because he doesn’t know how to move forward from this point, but they’re all looking at him. Waiting. Expectant. There’s too much at stake, and yet somehow — A sharp whistle drags Andrew’s attention back to the locker room. Kent is peeking his head out, and god knows how long he’s been eavesdropping.

“Yo, Zimmermanns. Bittle.”

“Parson.” The blonde says curtly, earning a wry smirk from Kent.

“Flip, we got a presser if you feel like putting a bow on the evening,” Kent’s gaze drifts to Bob’s flushed face, and he adds, “Or, you can shower and slip out the loading bay while I cover for your aggro ass because this is not going to be fun. Your call.”

Andrew looks at the small family surrounding him, his family, and says, “I don’t want to explain.” Kent shrugs and ducks back inside while Bob’s brow furrows in confusion. “I can do dinner, but I don’t want to,” Andrew holds his hands out in front of him, trying to gesture what he means, and Bob snaps his fingers in understanding.

“Ah, ha, I got you, kid.”

“Neat. I’m gonna go shower.”

“We will be here when you’re ready,” Alicia offers. “Take your time.”

“Oh, I will,” Andrew replies before he can stop himself, cringing the second his back is turned because what the fuck could he be any more awkward?

Time will tell.

_____________

.

[rvmmm21]

Would you comsider a steamy wenrene where irene is gentle with her wannie? you can make it yandere but please I just need to see irene be nice to wendy for a change 😢😢😢😢

considered. written. how does it feel to get a whole bunch of NOTHING. hahaha. i tried, but what am i if not a frustrating pit of maybes. have your 50%. 

tw: wendy’s LIES.

– – – – –

“Wan–ah, don’t be ridiculous.” Joohyun calls back as Seungwan’s hand reaches for the door, patting the mattress beside her in that totally–not–demanding–but–demanding voice of hers. “I know you’ve been having nightmares. Sleep with me tonight.”

Seungwan freezes, then dips her gaze. Damn, the duvet on Joohyun’s side suddenly looks ten times fluffier than hers. It… can’t hurt, right? Just one night. After a visible deliberation, Seungwan edges her way over and gingerly settles down, lifting the duvet and artlessly snuggling under it with a nervous chuckle. Gosh, it’s even warmer than she’d expected. Or… wait, is that just her own body heat from how fast her heart is going? She has no idea. And it’s not like she can think of much other than the whiffs of that crisp fabric conditioner Joohyun loves to use. 

“Night, Wannie. Sweet dreams. I hope you—”

“G’night unnie,” Seungwan accidentally interjects Joohyun while she’s bidding her goodnight. She half expects an eye-roll for that awkward timing but Joohyun simply huffs fondly and turns to face away from her.

Wow, good job. No, seriously. Way to go, Seungwan. Jesus.

The older is out like a light, leaving the other sweating in the dark with a racing heart and an embarrassingly explicit reel of thoughts.

It’s fine, it’s not like she’ll know, right? I’ll just stay up, Seungwan thinks, pulling the duvet up under her chin. For a good two minutes, all she can hear is the sound of the soft snoring next to her. She focuses on her own mechanical breathing, staring up into the darkness. 

The gentle draft from the ceiling fan is drying her eyes out. That’s fine, though. Because she has no intention of sleeping.

As much as Seungwan is determined, so is the fatigue. And it isn’t long before she’s drifting off into the first proper sleep she’s had in forever. Thank god they established the mandatory ten inches of space between them before Joohyun knocked out. There’s no way Seungwan’s crossing that boundary anytime soon; invisible as it may be, and as loudly as Joohyun may have laughed at her when she suggested it.

What was it Joohyun called her? A weirdo? Whatever, she isn’t about to take any chances. Especially not when she’s almost four hundred percent sure Joohyun doesn’t know about the… little crush she’s harbouring.

A little later on into the night Seungwan feels a distant tapping on her shoulder, and then she’s opening her eyes to a gentle smile nudging her awake. It’s only her side profile, but Joohyun’s beauty is dazzling, even through the filter of the night. Seungwan unconsciously licks her lips. 

“Wan–ah, it’s nice but—” the older woman pauses for a soft yawn, “bit looser please… hard to breathe.”

Once Seungwan shakes herself awake enough to make sense of what she’s hearing, she barely manages to keep from having a heart attack right there and then. She is— to her absolute horror— curled right into Joohyun’s back, practically nuzzling into the nape of her neck with her arms wrapped (breath–takingly snugly, apparently) around her waist, like a little puppy snuggled up to the warmth of its mother.

“Oh!” she yelps, reeling back in shock and doing her best to let Joohyun know she’s repulsed at herself, not her. 

I— I thought you were my bolster, unnie?! She wants to scream.

Too bad she’s so preoccupied in berating herself to notice the look on Joohyun’s face. The one that screams she anything but minded. Seungwan tries to detach herself from Joohyun’s back, but to her surprise, Joohyun stops her with a firm— “It’s okay. Stay.”— and an arm on top of hers, holding it there. 

Guess they’re spooning tonight.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

They’re kissing. Joohyun’s kissing her. Electrified dewdrops on grass blades catch between Seungwan’s prying fingertips, cool and wet. One by one, they’re absentmindedly plucked out of the soil when Joohyun connects their smiles in the humid summer air, murakami flowers embroidering their hearts together. 

The scent of vanilla–mint shampoo is cloying her nose. She’s tasting her, fingers are tangling in her hair, tilting her back slightly… 

“J–Joohyun unnie…” 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“W—Wannie?”

A perfect voice cuts through her dream, a hand on her shoulder already gingerly rousing her from her sleep.

Again.

“Wan—ah… you said my name.” And of course, Joohyun’s groggy voice sounds good enough to kiss, damn it. “Are you having a bad dream?”

“Mm… sorry unnie, sorry…” Seungwan mumbles softly, rolling onto her back with a huff and palming her eyes, trying to adjust to reality. 

Joohyun shimmies closer. Her vision is fuzzy, but she can still see Seungwan. Gosh, she thinks, giving her a once over, that dream must’ve been horrible. The poor thing is sweating. 

If only Joohyun knew the truth, the warmth in Seungwan’s cheeks might’ve been raised several degrees… alongside the warmth below her waistband. 

Suddenly the room is far, far too hot. Suddenly, Seungwan wishes she wasn’t trapped under Joohyun’s incredibly comfortable duvet with the most attractive woman on the planet. She tries to stretch her legs, tries to create a small air pocket to let some of that suffocating heat escape, but it does little to cool anything down. Ironically, it garners more of Joohyun’s attention, feeling the other girl shift so uncomfortably like that. After a couple of tense, silent moments, Seungwan’s tolerance snaps and she moves to get up. But Joohyun catches this instinctively and snakes an arm around her waist, tugging her down, stopping her from leaving again.

Seungwan seems adamant this time, though. “Unnie… I should go back to my room—”

Joohyun isn’t listening, choosing instead to press her with a question of her own. “Aren’t you going to tell me what you were dreaming about?” 

Whatever, Seungwan thinks, just give her the sparknotes version. There’s no need for her to know everything.

“We…” she admits slowly, “… we were in the grassy patch under the tree… you— you know, where we usually…?”

She pauses to make sure Joohyun is following. Sure enough, that patient nod gives her the answer she needs to nervously clear her throat.

“And it was raining but it stopped, and then… and then. Ahh, I don’t know. I think I need to cool off, unnie, I need to pee anyway,” Seungwan lies. She barely manages to pull the covers off her and push her hands into the mattress before Joohyun is gently holding her down to it, hovering over her in a way that has her airways clogged and her heartbeat an irregular mess.

“You’re sweating,” Joohyun points out the one thing Seungwan’s trying to hide. “You’re overheated. Are you feeling alright?”

Seungwan wants to say yes. So, so badly. But she shakes her head. It’s not a definitive shake, but it’s one vague enough that Joohyun remains inquisitive. Seungwan curses herself for being so honest. Why couldn’t she just push her out of the way? And did she have to agree to sleeping with her tonight? Why couldn’t she just have said it was a nightmare?

Why can she never lie to Joohyun? Even if it’s to preserve her own dignity?

“I’m going to the bathroom. I really have to pee.” Seungwan insists, and Joohyun is all but convinced. She looks down at the girl under her with such gentleness. And then she leans over, supporting herself on one elbow beside Seungwan’s head while she brings her other hand up to caress her cheek.

There’s a tiny gasp from the girl at the sudden (but not entirely unwelcome) closeness. “... unnie… you— you’re too close.”

Joohyun gracefully ignores her, moving her fingers from Seungwan’s face to trace the loose neckline of her t-shirt, showing her exactly what she means. “I think you want me closer, don’t you, Wannie?”

“You’re blushing all over. Look, here…” Joohyun starts with a cold finger on Seungwan’s lower abdomen, sending a heated chill up her spine. She sucks in a sharp breath when Joohyun folds the hem of her sleep shirt up, exposing the flushed skin on her stomach. “... and here, too…”

“U-Unnie… please…” 

But her unnie’s hand wanders wherever it pleases, ignorant to Seungwan’s helpless pleas. It strays further and further south and the younger girl isn’t even aware of what’s going on until there are fingers teasing at the waistband of her shorts. 

“Seungwan?” 

— who has been subconsciously licking her lips, stops as soon as she realises Joohyun’s eyes have been following the movements of her tongue the entire time. 

“Seungwan,” Joohyun repeats, resting a hand on her thigh, “what happened next, in your dream…”

Ah, what’s the worst that could happen? Seungwan tells Joohyun the truth and spontaneously combusts. That, or they never speak or look each other in the eyes ever again. Joohyun’s already gotten this far, Seungwan thinks she has nothing else to lose.

Her voice is hardly louder than a whisper. “We… kissed. You— you kissed me.”

She isn’t sure if the older woman is actually paying attention to the highlight of her dream anymore, because the feathery touch that had been resting on her hip bone is now skimming down, seeking the heat emanating from between her legs. She lets out an embarrassed squeak that dissolves into a strangled whimper when Joohyun strokes over her panties.

“And did you like it, Wannie? Was I good?” 

“Wha— huh? Unnie, what do you m—”

Joohyun doesn’t wait for a coherent answer. She leans down and shushes Seungwan’s stutter with a kiss, and a fierce new blush scribbles across the blonde’s cheeks as her eyes instinctively flutter closed.

Right now, Seungwan can’t deny it no matter how much she wants to.

“You’re amazing, unnie.”

Joohyun smiles. “Don’t worry Wannie, everything’s going to be alright. Let me take care of you now, okay?”

With bashful eyes, Seungwan nods. If Joohyun says it’ll be okay, she has no doubt that it will.

[holidaywishes]

you finally made sense

  Requested: 👍

  Summary/Request: So Jacob Markstrom idea for whenever you’re ready. Because I am simple and just love the idea I would love to see how you would write friends to lovers but where Jacob has known for a while that he wanted more but the reader is much slower to come to a realization. Like maybe she realizes when someone makes a comment about how they are such  a cute couple or something.

  Warning: Google Translate, fluff, maybe some language?

  Author’s Note: For some reason, this GIF doesn’t come up in the GIF search but I love it too much not to use, so I believe it’s from @droppedgloves​ and I want to thank them for it. It’s beautiful, thank you. Fun fact: I forgot what the ‘plan’ was after I wrote “here’s the plan” because I had to save it as a draft and do other stuff 😂😂 I’m not super familiar with Markstrom, so I had to spend a good full day scrolling through YouTube to watch videos and interviews of him to get a sense of his personality so I could figure out how I wanted to write him and, here’s another fun fact: I didn’t realize that video of the goalie playing with dolls (you’re the better goalie, you’re the better goalie) was actually Markstrom so that made me giggle when I was watching stuff. @mandypants95​ I hope this gives you a little bit of what you were looking for. Friends to Lovers is fun to write because of all the cliché’s that come with it so I hope everyone enjoys it, even just a little bit! It’s quite long, like I told mandypants, it kind of got away on me, so just prepare yourself 😂Stay golden, loves! <3

  P.S. The names of Marky’s friends are not real people, -- he might have friends with these names but I have no idea, -- I just needed to make up some names for his friends 😜

  P.P.S. If you keep seeing this appear after you’ve liked it, I’m sorry. Sometimes edits need to be done because of grammar (I hate when my fics have bad grammar) and if I do it on the app, sometimes the title doesn’t save so the link gets we-- it’s a whole thing.

 masterlist

 the other masterlist

xx

  You met Jake his first year playing with the Canucks but it wasn’t a natural friendship like he usually explained it to everyone. He was sweet, sure, but he was also very cocky; like he knew how good he was and was eager to make sure everyone else knew. It didn’t take long, though, for him to charm his way into your life.

  “JAKE!” you called as you walked through his front door

  “What’s up!” he yelled from the top of the stairs

  “Here’s the plan:” you started to explain, “we’re going to this bar, you’re not going to run off and leave me alone with all these strangers, we’re gonna leave when either of us decides that we’re done, got it?”

  “It’s a party, (Y/N),” he laughed, “we have to interact with them”

  “I know and it’s your birthday,” you added, “I’m just saying, I don’t know your friends. You can read me, I can read you, so just help me out a little, okay?”

  “Fine” he sighed sarcastically before running down the stairs to meet you, bumping your arm lightly with his shoulder before walking into the kitchen to grab a glass of water

  “Good” you smiled

  “Great” he teased

  “Look,” you sighed, leaning against his counter while he practically chugged his water, “don’t be weird. Don’t wear a suit and make me feel under-dressed, just wear jeans and a t-shirt”

  “It’s my birthday party...” you scoffed

  “I know, so just be comfortable” you grinned and he shook his head

  “God, you’re so demanding today” he joked

  “I have to be or you won’t listen to me”

  “You know me too well, I guess” he smiled, forcing an exaggerated eye roll from you before you turned on your heels to make your way home. “Wait, you’re leaving?”

  “Yeah” you scoffed

  “You just came over to boss me around and leave? Like this couldn’t have been done over text?”

  “I have to go get changed!” you laughed

  “What?” he chuckled, “you just told me to dress casual”

  “I know because I know you,” you admitted, “you’ll still show up looking like you’re going to some fancy event. Even in ripped jeans and a ratty t-shirt”

  “I won’t” he smiled

  “You will. Just let me go home and put on a dress. I’ll meet you there”

  “You’ll text me when you get there?”

  “As soon as the Uber turns the corner” you smirked

  “Okay, see you there.”

xx

Jacob’s P.O.V

  You waited outside the bar for (Y/N) to show up for your birthday party that your friends from Sweden came in for but she was taking forever

  “Where are you?” you asked impatiently

  “I told you I’d text you when I was there” she sent back

  “Yeah, but you were supposed to be here like 20 minutes ago!”

  “There was traffic. I can’t control the traffic”

  “Oh I’m sure you could if you tried”

  “Yeah well, maybe next time”

  “Are you close?”

  “The car is just turning the corner now”

  “Finally” you watched as cars paced by the bar until one black Lexus pulled up in front of you and (Y/N) stepped out slowly. Your eyes couldn’t help but follow her as she walked toward you, completely enthralled by the deep blue colour of her dress as it swished side to side. “Wait” you stopped her from walking into the bar, ahead of you

  “What?” she sighed as she stepped back in front of you

  “Why are you allowed to dress like that,” you gestured to her before gesturing to your outfit, “and I have to dress like this?”

  “Because,” she started, a smile creeping across her face, “these are your friends. They’ve never met me before and I want to make a good impression”

  “But it’s not like they need to approve of you,” you smirked, “we’re not dating”

  “Oh I know,” she scoffed, “but if I look good, that makes you look good. They’ll know that you’re not failing over here because you hang out with awesome people like me” she turned and walked into the bar, grabbing your arm so she could drag you in after her. Her laugh, paired with her warm touch, sent your heart racing and you hoped she would hold onto you longer but as soon as your friends greeted you, she let go

  “GRATTIS PÅ FÖDELSEDAGEN!” they shouted, grabbing you and practically tossing you back and forth between them before you noticed (Y/N)’s uncomfortable expression. You moved your hand to rest on her back

  “Guys, this is my friend, (Y/N),” you said, pushing her forward so they could see her, “(Y/N), this is George, Niklas, Ollie, Sam, Malcolm, Dustin, Eric and Corey”

  “Wow,” she exhaled with a laugh, looking at you as she tried to think of something to say, “forgive me if I mix up your names. Jake moves a lot faster than I do”

  “Guess that’s what makes him a good goalie?” Ollie joked and (Y/N) nodded

  “So you guys are just friends?” Dustin pried

  “Yes” (Y/N) was quick to answer and you hoped that none of the boys noticed your face fall

  “Let’s get some drinks!” Niklas exclaimed, directing (Y/N) to the bar while the rest of you followed behind them

  “Så är du verkligen bara vänner?” George started, speaking Swedish so (Y/N) wouldn’t be able to understand

  “Ja” you scoffed

  “Av eget val?” Corey asked

  “Så klart det är” you countered

  “Ja? Din eller hennes?” Dustin teased

  “What are you boys gossiping about?” (Y/N) laughed before you could answer, catching your eyes and a pathetic smile as the group sat at the bar

  “They’re just asking when I’m gonna win the cup” you lied

  “Did you guys meet here? In Calgary?” Ollie asked her, ignoring your lie

  “No, actually we met in Vancouver,” she admitted with a smile, “in 2016?”

  “Yep,” you added, “the end of 2016. We were instant friends”

  “No we weren’t” she laughed

  “What?!” you said, shocked at her confession

  “Ooh, Jakey, what did you do?” Malcolm teased

  “Nothing! I was a complete gentleman” you tried

  “No he was,” she laughed, placing her hand on your arm to reassure you, “you were. He was very sweet but he knew I knew who he was and I didn’t really wanna give in to it, you know what I mean? But we kinda stayed in touch for a couple days, had lunch with some of my friends, he got us tickets to a game and made us feel welcome and all that. It was all very sweet”

  “So what was the issue?” Malcolm asked, as if he knew something had changed

  “I got a job in Calgary. I had moved to Vancouver for University but I was about to graduate and the island was a little too expensive to live on after having the loans I had. So when I moved back to Calgary, we just kinda couldn’t really become friends” she replied

  “But obviously you did” Corey added

  “He found me on Instagram and added me,“ she laughed and you could feel your face fill with heat, “then he just wouldn’t leave me alone”

  “And then he got traded here” Sam finally added, earning a round of laughs from everyone when they realized he hadn’t said anything

  “Then he got traded here. During a Pandemic, in the weirdest season of Hockey I’ve ever witnessed” she laughed

  “She flipped when I told her”

  “I hadn’t kept up with the trade deadline” she added

  “So she was in the middle of a Zoom call or something” you continued, the two of you now telling the story together

  “When I get this text”

  “I wrote, purposely very cryptically, I’m coming to see you”

  “And I was obviously very creeped out”

  “But she still replied”

  “Well, I had to figure out what the hell he was talking about!” she laughed, pushing your shoulder playfully

  “Sure but you could’ve just been like ‘this is a joke’ and left it at that” you teased before she rolled her eyes

  “Anyway…” she smirked, “I sent back a message asking what the hell he was talking about”

  “So I told her I got traded and she sent a voice note practically screaming”

  “I was excited”

  “I was nervous but I was happy that I’d have a friend in the city outside of hockey”

  “So I asked him when he was going to get into the city, to see if we could meet up”

  “I told her”

  “But then Alberta went into a weird quasi-lockdown and I didn’t want to get him in trouble”

  “So we FaceTimed”

  “Which we’d obviously done a million times over the years”

  “We caught up”

  “Planned to get together”

  “Which we did, pretty soon after, and now here we are”

  “Here you are” George interjected, leading you and (Y/N) to laugh awkwardly before each taking a sip from your respective drinks and Niklas pointed out a booth where everyone could sit and talk without having to crane your necks. After a while, and a few more cocktails, everyone seemed to be getting along which, honestly, made you smile; something that Ollie was all too quick to notice.

  "I'll be right back" (Y/N) said with a smile before she started to push you out of the booth, leaving you with your friends and their very obvious questions

  "Before you say anything," you smirked, "just don't"

  "Come on" George laughed

  "If you already know what we're going to say, why don't you answer the question?" Sam added

  "Come on, Jakey" Malcolm teased

  "Säg det" Corey added

  "Säg vad?" you played dumb

  "Kom igen..." Eric continued

  "Ingen aning om vad du pratar om..."

  "Hur länge har du älskat henne?" Dustin finally asked

  "Hey!" you exclaimed when you saw (Y/N), trying to get them to forget about the question

  "Hi," she said, caught off guard by your excitement, "everything okay?"

  "Yeah" you answered, letting her back in before you squeezed in next to her

  "You sure?" she said, furrowing her brow

  "Yeah! We just wanted to get another round but wanted to make sure you were here before we did..."

  "You're a terrible liar" she laughed, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear and exposing her neck

  "Så... ska du berätta för henne att du älskar henne eller måste någon av oss göra det?" Sam said, causing (Y/N)'s head to ping pong back and forth between the two of you, as if she was trying to understand what he said to you

  "What did he say?" she asked you, leaning into you, causing your cheeks to flush with heat

  "Nothing," you said, distracted by her peach-scented shampoo and the way she didn't move away from you, clearing your throat when you realized that you were almost moving toward her, "they're just teasing me. You all have that in common”

  “Yeah, something tells me that’s not what he said” she smirked, her eyes dancing between yours before she sat back up and continued talking with the guys; they told her stories about how you were as a kid, she laughed and said that you hadn’t changed at all.

  “It was nice to meet you, (Y/N),” Malcolm said, “take care of him while we’re gone okay?”

  “I will” she smiled

  “Take care of yourself, too” Corey added

  “Thanks”

  “And you,” George pointed to you with a smirk, “you take care of her”

  “Yeah yeah yeah” you joked

  "Vi är seriösa, J," Niklas said, "Hon är för bra för dig men om du tar hand om henne ..."

  "Då vet du..." Sam added, raising his eyebrows as (Y/N) called a cab

  "Allvarligt killar, sluta" you sighed

  "Du älskar henne" Ollie whispered

  "Berätta bara för henne," Dustin said while Eric nodded his head

  "Det är inte så enkelt" you sighed, watching (Y/N) continue to try to hail a cab and fail, dropping her head in annoyance

  “Come on!” you heard her yell, earning a scoff from you

  ”Har jag varit kär i henne i ungefär två år? Ja," you confessed, "spelar det någon roll? Nej, för hon känner inte samma sak om mig och jag tänker inte tvinga henne att känna något hon inte gör”

  "Tycker du inte att hon förtjänar att veta det?" Sam asked

  "Vi såg hur hon såg på dig," Ollie grinned, "Jag tror att det finns några känslor där"

  "Jag tror inte det" you sighed once more, looking over at (Y/N) who had successfully hailed a cab

  “Jake!!” she called excitedly, a huge smile spread across her face, “come on! It was nice to meet you guys!” she called to your friends and they waved her goodbye, “Jake, I can’t keep this guy waiting forever!”

  "Du bör gå" George laughed

  "Hon är så bossig" Corey joked

  "Ja, det är hon" you smirked, looking at her calling you to the small yellow car and telling the driver to wait just one more minute. ”Okej killar, jag måste gå. Tack för att du kom in för att önska mig en grattis på födelsedagen,” you smiled, “Ha en säker flygning tillbaka”

  "Kommer att göra, Jakey," Malcolm said

  “Hallå!” Niklas interrupted one last time, "Berätta bara för henne"

  “Adjö” you shook your head before smiling and waving them goodbye

  “Geez! Took you long enough!” (Y/N) whined, hopping into the backseat of the cab with you close behind

  “Relax, I had to say goodbye. They came a long way” you replied

  “Such a good friend,” she said, “can I just stay at your place tonight? I’m exhausted”

  “Yeah that’s fine” you agreed, letting your hand fall next to hers, brushing her skin with your pinky and waiting for someone to break the silence

  “Where to?” the driver finally asked, bringing your attention to him before giving him your address

  “Your friends were nice,” (Y/N) added wearily, “they didn’t really like to talk in English though did they?”

  “Their Swedish is better”

  “That’s fair” she yawned, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the window. You smiled as thoughts of how your life could be with her — falling asleep next to her, caressing her skin as she slept, pushing her hair from her face and tucking it behind her ear so you could kiss her softly — but you knew she didn’t feel the same, so all you would ever be was friends.

xx

  You fell asleep in the cab next to Jacob but you could swear you felt him watching you. He did wake you up, gently, when the cab pulled up in front of his apartment.

  “(Y/N)?” he whispered, “hey”

  “Hi. What’s going on?”

  “It’s time to go inside” he smirked

  “Oh” you scoffed, pushing yourself across the bench seat and stepping out of the cab, stumbling into Jacob when you finally stood up

  “Whoa” he chuckled, placing his arm around your waist to keep you from falling

  “I’m sorry,” she whined as you both stepped into the elevator, leaning back against the cold metal and away from Jake. “I didn’t think I drank that much but I guess I couldn’t keep up with you guys”

  “It’s okay,” he laughed and you started to drift off to sleep again, “hey, we’re almost to my place, don’t fall asleep here okay?”

  “Okay” you hummed before he started to keep you awake by telling you jokes. “Oh my god, Jake, stop!” you laughed, “your jokes are awful”

  “Hey! My jokes are pure gold” he countered

  “Sure they are” you scoffed. When the elevator finally opened, you slowly walked out, swaying and stumbling through the hallway before Jake eventually placed his hands on your waist and guided you to the door

  “Alright, here we are. Come on, drunky”

  “Why aren’t you more drunk?” you finally asked, only now noticing that he seemed very sober

  “I’m twice your size,” he laughed, “I can manage a bit more alcohol than you”

  “Yeah but you’re like… sober. Like you didn’t drink at all” you questioned before stumbling into his chest

  “Oh-kay, let’s just get you to sleep,” he said, carrying you to his bedroom

  “Hey mister,” you slurred, “what do you think you’re doing?”

  “I’m putting you in bed” he said

  “This is your bed, I don’t know what kind of ideas you have in your little Swedish brain”

  “Don’t worry, kid,” he scoffed, setting you down on the firm mattress before tucking you under the covers, “I’ll be in the guest room”

  “Wait!” you called as he started walking away, “happy birthday” you smiled, realizing you hadn’t said it to him nearly all-day

  “Thanks,” he whispered and you saw him smile while he began closing the door, “now get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” The next morning, you heard him in the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as possible, rummaging around the cabinets

  “Hey sleepy head!” he exclaimed

  “Oh wow,” you replied softly, rubbing your temples, “why are you yelling like that?”

  "I'm sorry," he whispered but it still felt like yelling, "am I annoying you?"

  "What are you doing?" you asked, glaring at him while you sat down on the stool at the kitchen island

  "I'm making pancakes!" he smiled

  "You can't cook" you groaned, still rubbing your temples in hopes that it would cure your hangover

  "Wow, rude," he joked, throwing a metal spoon into his sink and you shuddered at the ringing of the steel that echoed through the room, "do you want some aspirin?"

  "Yes please" you smiled gratefully

  "Here" he said, handing you a glass of water and two small pills

  "Thank you," you said and he saluted you lazily, earning a scoff from you, "so what's going on today? Post birthday plans?"

  "My mom is calling in soon and then I have to go to practice, we've got a game tomorrow. In Vancouver, so we're flying out this afternoon," he replied, keeping his eyes on the food in front of him while he spoke, "so the day is pretty much set..."

  "Oh," you said, clearing your throat as you finished your glass of water, "okay. I'll just... leave you to it then"

  "What?" he scoffed, "I didn't mean it li-- you're not gonna stay and talk to my mom? You know she loves you more than she loves me"

  "Well, I am very lovable," you teased, smiling at him until your headache forced you to stop, "but I don't want to intrude or anything. I'll just grab my phone and get an Uber so I can head home"

  "Stop it," he huffed, turning off the burner and walking over to you, "I'll drive you home later, just stay and chat with me and Mom" he placed his hands on your arms before his eyes focused on your own and you found yourself unable to resist his insistence; your pursed smile giving it away before you could

  "Fine," you finally said, "I'll stay."

  "Good" he smirked, turning back to grab you a pancake, practically tossing the plate to you. When his mom finally Facetimed him, he was in the other room so you were forced to greet her first

  "Hey, Lena!" you exclaimed

  "(Y/N)! Darling! How are you?" she asked, her smile so much like her sons

  "I'm good, how are you?"

  "I'm good! Thank you for asking," she smiled, looking past you for Jake, "now, where is my son?"

  "He's probably off puking somewhere," you joked, "he really can't handle his alcohol in his old age"

  "His tolerance must have lowered since moving to Canada"

  "Especially when the actual alcohol percentages are so low compared to Sweden"

  "I'm disappointed in him" she laughed

  "Me too!" you added, laughing with her before Jake finally walked into frame, standing behind you with his arms on either side of you and his chin resting on the top of your head

  "Alright you two," he smirked, "stop making fun of me"

  "It's your fault," you teased, tilting your head so you were looking up at him directly, "not being in the room and all"

  "When will I learn?" he joked, looking down at you before making a funny face

  "Never. You'll never learn. You're impossible" you laughed, sticking your tongue out at him as he pushed your shoulder and sat down in the seat beside you

  "You two are so sweet" Lena smirked

  "Ma..." Jake sighed

  "We are sweet, aren't we?" you replied, noticing both Lena and Jacob shake their heads; granted, with different expressions on their face

  "It's not--" he started, exasperated after having clearly had this conversation with his mom more than once

  "What's wrong?" you asked, confused

  "I think you're the most adorable couple I've ever seen, honestly" Lena admitted and you scoffed, a blush creeping into your cheeks

  "Oh, whoa," you smiled, "Jake, have you been going around telling your parents we're dating?"

  "No" he sighed, closing his eyes lightly as if he was embarrassed

  "I've been trying to get him to ask you out for months now but he won't do it" she teased

  "Well, he wouldn't," you said, looking between the mother and son, "because we're just friends. He wouldn't want to ruin that"

  "Alright mom," he said, over the back and forth, "enough of this conversation. I've got to take (Y/N) home, okay? Love you, thanks for the chat"

  "Hey, Jacob!" Lena yelled before he could end the call, "we haven't spoken, don't hang up on me like that"

  "I'll just.. go wait outside" you whispered, watching him sit down in front of his computer to await the disappointed words that his mom would soon say to him. You waited outside for a few minutes before checking if his truck was unlocked, sitting on the step when you saw that it wasn't and realizing that if you tried to open the door, the alarm would go off. It was another hour before Jacob finally came outside to meet you

  "Sorry about that" he sighed

  "That's okay. She called to talk to you, I'd be upset too if someone tried to hang up on me when I specifically called t--"

  "Yeah, I get it," he said through bared teeth, "let's just go, okay? I have to be at practice soon" you furrowed your brow but got into the passenger seat, looking at him take a deep breath before starting the car. You thought about the words his mother used when she spoke about you and Jacob. You two are so sweet, the most adorable couple I've ever seen, I've been trying to get him to ask you out for months. It was all kind of odd to you. Not only that Lena had said it, or that she and Jake had clearly had the conversation before, but that he was so irritated by the whole interaction. Why was he so upset? you thought to yourself. Did he think you were embarrassed? Did he think that you would be hurt that he had never agreed to take you out on a date? Or was there something that he had said to Lena that he didn't want you to hear?

  "Jake?" you said, as he drove through the city silently but he didn't respond. Soon enough, he pulled up outside of your apartment building and you hesitated before finally jumping out of the car, with just enough time to clear the door before Jake sped away from you. What the fuck? you scoffed, heading inside in hopes of clearing your head. You spent the day racking your brain about what could have gotten Jake so upset but nothing came to mind; nothing you said was rude, or at least you didn't think it was, and everything was true, so what was his deal?

  "Tell me exactly what happened?" your friend, Susie, asked from the other end of the phone after you had explained the morning to her

  "Again?" you whined

  "Yes, again, I need to know if you're missing something"

  "We went for drinks last night, for his birthday, with his friends. We all laughed and had a good time. I drank too much, stayed at his place, in separate rooms. When I woke up, we joked around like we always do, he gave me some aspirin and made some pancakes before his mom called from Sweden" you exclaimed, smirking to yourself a little while you thought of the conversation you and Lena had before Jake came back into the room. "She loves me, so we joked about Jake a bunch but then he came into the room, stood behind me and rested his chin on my head. I looked up at him and we teased each other a bit more. Lena said we were sweet, I said yeah of course but Jake seemed to.. argue with her? I don't know, Lena kept going saying that we made a cute couple but I corrected her, saying we were just friends. My exact words were to Jake 'have you been going around telling your parents we're dating?' to which he said No and then Lena said she's been trying to get him to ask me out for a while but he's always said no"

  "And what did you say...?" Susie interjected, her tone telling you that she was hearing something that you clearly weren't

  "I said that he wouldn't ask me out because we were just friends," you replied plainly. It was the truth, what was wrong with that? "and that he wouldn't want to ruin that"

  "He wouldn't?" she questioned with a scoff before continuing, "fine. What happened after that?"

  "Things got weird and tense. I let them talk alone and then he drove me home in a weird mood. He barely talked to me, he barely even looked at me!"

  "(Y/N)..." she sighed, "(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)..."

  "What? What? What?" you scoffed in reply

  "HOW ARE YOU SO BLIND?!" she shouted through the phone, forcing you to pull it from your ear for a minute

  "What are you talking about?"

  "I've seen it for years," she said, "but I always thought you knew. But you really don't, do you?"

  "Know what? What have you seen for years?"

  "The way you'd stop everything when he called, the way you'd schedule FaceTimes like clockwork, the way he knows your favourite colour as it changes from week to week. The fact that he could have anyone he wanted, who would want him back, but he chooses to ask you to hang out with him all the time, from a different province? A different time zone?" she explained but you were still lost

  "We're friends. We like hanging out with each other and we can't really do that in person because of what's happening now. Plus, he's so busy..."

  "(Y/N)!!!" she yelled again, "COME ON!"

  "JUST SPIT IT OUT! I'm clearly not gonna get what you're trying to get me to get..."

  "He's been in love with you for years. Probably since the two of you started really getting to know each other," she said and the words hung in the air as you tried to grasp them, "but when you said that you were just friends? He probably thought that he was never going to be anything more than that to you. Maybe he thinks he's wasted his time all these years"

  "He's not in love with me" was all you could think to say

  "Yes, he is," she laughed, "and you're in love with him"

  "Now, hold on," you scoffed, "I'm pretty sure I would know if I were in love with somebody"

  "Would you?"

  "Of course I would"

  "Fine," she replied, seemingly dropping the conversation, "but he is in love with you and I think you need to talk to him about it"

  "And say what?" you asked

  "I don't know..." she said, her smirk ever present on her words, "but I'm sure you'll think of something"

  "Susi--"

  "I gotta go," she interrupted, "keep me in the loop. Love you, bye!"

  "WAIT!" you shouted to a now static line, "well what the fuck...?" you said to yourself. You were left alone with the thought that Jake might have feelings for you and the words that Susie tried to convince you were true

  "You're in love with him, too" it was nonsense. You couldn't love Jake... It was Jake. He was Jacob Markström. Was there a part of you that found him attractive? Yes. Yeah, sure but were you in love with him? No. No, there's no way.

  "FUCK!" you shouted to your empty apartment, as you paced through the living room, "why would she say that? It doesn't matter. I don't love him. I mean, he's Jake. He's just the guy who teases me for literally every move I make. So, he knows that my favourite colour changes every week, who cares? That doesn't mean anything. Sure, you knew that he loves Country music more than he's actually confessed in his interviews, but that's just what happens when you're friends with someone. And, yes, when the light hit him just right, he looked like he was covered in gold but that's not him. That's the sun... It's not like he's a god or anything, he's just got blonde hair and the sun does stuff to blonde hair..." you could feel yourself making excuses but you had to because maybe you didn't want it to be true. You couldn't be in love with him, could you? "Fuck" you sighed.

xx

Jacob's P.O.V

  You had been ignoring (Y/N) for almost a week at this point. You weren’t sure what to do or say to her knowing now, for sure, that she only thought of you as friends but you hated not having her around. She had become such an integral part of your life and not having her there just felt... wrong

  “Jake, talk to me, please!” she texted and you sighed, staring at your phone and contemplating an answer but you just couldn’t think of something to say, “JAKE! I know you’re getting these messages. Just let me talk to you please. If you don’t want to say anything fine but I need to talk to you”

  “Are you gonna leave me alone if I let you talk?” you finally gave in

  “Yes,” she sent back, “but I need to see you to say all of this...”

  “Seriously?” you scoffed

  “Yes. Seriously. Please?”

  “Fine. When are you free?”

  “Right now!” she replied quickly

  “I can’t right now. I literally just walked into the locker room, how about tomorrow?”

  “How about after practice? I can meet you at the Dome...”

  “Fine” you huffed to yourself

  “Everything okay?” Tanny asked when he heard your exasperation

  “Yeah” you sighed, holding up your phone to let him know that it was something on there

  “Great!” (Y/N) added, “I’ll see you at four?”

  “Yeah sure, fine” you tossed your phone into the shelf in your stall and rubbed your face in frustration

  “Yo, Marky...” Chris continued, noticing your stress, “seriously man, what’s going on?”

  “(Y/N) wants to meet up and ‘talk’” you replied, putting air quotes around talk

  “The girlfriend wants to break up huh?” he chirped and you scoffed, shaking your head in return

  “I’ve been ignoring her for like a week. I don’t know what to say to her... I’ve been able to hide my feelings for her for so long but she finally said to my mom, on my birthday, that all we’ll ever be is friends and, I don’t know, I just don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know if I can hide how I feel anymore”

  “She has feelings for you, too” he said

  “Yeah.. she thinks of me as a big brother”

  “No,” he countered, “she has the same feelings for you as you do for her. She’s just scared to admit it”

  “Why would she be scared to admit it?” you said dumbly

  “Because,” he smirked, “it would mean admitting that guys and girls can’t just be friends. That there’s always some kind of attraction and that sex gets in the way”

  “Sex?” you blushed

  “I’m not saying you’ve had sex or that you’re going to,” he admitted, “I’m just saying, I’ve met (Y/N) before and she’s always said that she doesn’t agree with the idea that guys and girls can’t be friends because someone always wants to sleep with someone else. But if she admits to having feelings for you, then all of that becomes... hypocritical”

  “She wouldn’t be that petty...”

  “I wouldn’t call it petty,” he said, heading back toward his stall to continue putting on his gear, “I would call it stubborn.” By the end of practice, you were looking for (Y/N) everywhere but there was no one in the stands and you figured she must have wanted to meet you in the parking lot so you could drive her somewhere private. You took a quick shower and packed up your bag, looking at your phone quickly to see if there was anything from her but your screen was clear, forcing your brow to crease in response

  “Take it easy, guys” you smiled as you made your way out of the locker room, waving to the team before catching Tanny give you a head nod. You practically ran out of the building to find (Y/N) when you saw her arguing with a security guard

  “Oh, Jake! Finally. I’ve been arguing with this guy for like an hour. He wouldn’t let me in!” she explained through gritted teeth

  “It’s fine. Thank you,” you said to the guard, pulling her away from him and toward your car, “what is wrong with you? You can’t argue with Security, you’re tiny. You’re not a threat, you just look like a chihuahua”

  “Ha ha” she replied sarcastically

  “Am I taking you somewhere to talk or what’s going on?” you spat

  “Do you wanna go somewhere?” she asked

  “I wanna know what you wanna talk about and then maybe I can decide if we should go somewhere” you admitted, stomping off to your car

  “I wanna talk about us” she whimpered as she caught up to you. You caught her eye for just a second before shaking your head

  “Get in the car” you scoffed and she did as you told her. The two of you were silent for a while before (Y/N) tried to get you to start talking but you shushed her, keeping the ride silent aside from the radio until you got to relatively empty part of Prince’s Island Park. “Alright,” you said sternly as you slammed the door shut, “talk”

  “I...” she hesitated, closing the door lightly

  “What?”

  “I never--”

  “Never meant to hurt me?” you interrupted thinking you were finishing her thought

  “I never wanted to be with you...” she admitted and you scoffed in return

  “Wow... thanks. Glad we could have this talk”

  “No, wait, Jake, stop,” she sighed, “I didn’t mean it like that. I didn’t realize how you felt until like a week ago. Apparently, everyone else around me knew but I was too stupid to see it. I thought we both wanted the same thing”

  “And that was to never be with each other?”

  “I thought we just wanted a friend”

  “Because I can’t get my own friends?”

  “Because I didn’t think you thought of me like that” she shouted

  “Why not?” you exclaimed

  “You never really did anything to make me think otherwise!”

  “Sure I did!”

  “Jake... come on. You never did anything differently...”

  “I drove you places” you tried and she scoffed

  “Oh no, you’re right,” she teased, “how could I not have known?”

  “How about me calling on Valentine’s Day?”

  “How was I supposed to know that was anything other than you having a day off?” It was a fair point, actually. She knew that you’d often lose track of days when you were on the road and, sometimes, you’d miss holidays altogether

  “I never forgot your birthday!” you said as if that proved something

  “And?”

  “And... you should’ve known then”

  “Jake, it doesn’t matter,” she sighed, “the point is that I didn’t notice until now.”

  “So what?” you asked, “you wanted to talk to tell me that you never wanted to be with me? I don’t get why you couldn’t just wait for me to come to you or why you had to stop everything for this”

  “Jake..”

  “I mean no, you didn’t stop everything but you might as well have”

  “Jake...” you heard her say, trying to get you to stop but you continued rambling

  “But that’s what I do. For you. I drop everything as soon as you call or text because you need me and I like that you need me, so I stop and run to you”

  “Jacob!”

  “WHAT?”

  “I LOVE YOU, TOO” she shouted over you, her eyes closing softly when she realized how loud she was. “I didn’t realize it until I looked back at everything and I didn’t think it was actually how I felt because, I mean, it’s you...” she chuckled, “and it’s me. We couldn’t be an ‘us’ but the more I thought about it, the more I wanted there to be an ‘us.‘ I knew you were mad, you weren’t taking my calls or responding to my texts -- even though I saw that you had read them -- and I didn’t want to make things worse but I hated not having you around to tell me that I burnt my pizza, again, or that I should eat more fish or that I was a terrible tour guide. I hated not hearing your voice everyday or seeing your smile,” you began walking toward her as she continued to ramble, your heart warm with each word that left her lips, “I was always confused why you weren’t with anyone and why I was happy that you never were but when I figured it out, everything made sense. You finally made sense...” she stopped when you stood in front of her, closing any space between the two of you

  “You done?” you asked with a smirk

  “I-I think so...” she stammered as your hands crept to the sides of her neck, your thumb pushing her chin up so you could lean down and capture her lips slowly. She welcomed your lips as if they had been missing from hers for a lifetime but her arms stayed at her sides for a minute longer until it was too much for her and she let her hands clutch your wrists while your tongue glided across her lip to gain access inside her mouth. She let out a small moan when her mouth opened, earning a smirk from you before your hands fell from her neck, down her body, until they cupped her ass and you picked her up; her legs instinctively wrapping your hips, mirroring her arms wrapping around your neck. You set her down on the hood of your car while your tongues intertwined with each other and her fingers tangled in your hair. It took a while for either of you to break the kiss, leaving her chest heaving as she tried to her breath

  “I’ve wanted to do that for so long” you laughed as her head fell against your chest and you kissed her forehead

  “And?” she asked, lifting her head back up to look at you

  “It was better than I thought it would be”

  “Gee,” she scoffed, pushing your shoulder playfully, “thanks”

  “I think we just need to keep doing it” you teased

  “I can do that”

  “Good” you whispered, leaning back in to press a kiss to her lips as she smiled against your lips

  “Maybe we should go somewhere private” she whispered

  “Sure” you replied, distracted by the feel of her skin under your fingertips, before you moved your lips to her neck, eliciting small whimpers from her

  “Jake...” she moaned and you hummed against her skin, smirking to yourself, “somewhere private...”

  “Fine,” you smirked, reluctantly agreeing with you before picking her up again to carry her back into the passenger seat. You sat in the drivers seat but didn’t make any moves, half hoping that she’d pull you into the backseat and say that this was ‘private enough’ but she didn’t do that. Instead, she leaned across the centre console and kissed your cheek

  “Let’s go” she whispered in your ear, making you smile before your hand found its way to her knee, stationing itself there throughout the drive. She stopped you from moving your hand further up your thigh by grabbing it, holding it with both of hers

  “Hey,” you whispered, bringing her hand to your lips, “we’re gonna have a lot of fun together”

  “Yeah,” she smiled, “I think so, too.”