#(which is fine I'm not expecting anyone to pick up on subtle things like that ofc ofc)

[g4rchomp]

I bought myself flowers!!!! the weather is gloomy and this week was really tough so it definitely feels like a nice reward 🌷

[zorilleerrant]

House Call

@flashfictionfridayofficial

“I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go,” he says to me, covered in blood, as you do, and I stare at him in bewilderment. He continues to stand in the rain, on my balcony, looking at me pitifully with big sad eyes. Not that he's not severely injured, but still. He's just standing there.

“How do you know where I live?” I ask. Honestly, he's made no indication he even cares who I am, and I've tried reaching out. So the stalking is a new angle on the whole thing with him.

He glares at me. Now I'm wondering if I missed some vital piece of infosec somewhere in all this. “You know I'm a mirror, right? Like, not to say that anyone with a memetic power could find you, but yours isn't exactly subtle. I know who you are walking down the street and all.” Secret identities are hard.

“I feel like that's something you probably shouldn't share with superheroes. For like. Safety reasons,” I tell him. I still haven't invited him in.

I expect him to shove me aside, or else to ask for help again, but instead he just says, “the NSA already has a file on me as thick as your arm. You just didn't look it up.”

“I'm not allowed to look them up anymore,” I remind him. That, at least, everyone knows.

He scoffs at me. “Like they would stop you.” He peers around my shoulder, and I reflexively block his view, not that it matters. If I'm going to help him – and I should – he's going to find out Chaim's here, anyway.

“Does your boyfriend know about,” he gestures vaguely at the night sky, “all of this?”

“Yes,” I snap, because I may have gone independent, but I'm not about to let supervillains start dictating my personal life, “and stop assuming things about my relationships with other people.” He gives me the most withering look. What does he know? He's like twelve.

“Look, not to tell you how to be the responsible adult here, but generally you should've either let me in or told me to fuck off,” he reminds me. He's holding his arm like it's broken. I thought he had a healing factor. I guess that was borrowed, too.

“I'm not going to tell you to fuck off,” I tell him, even though I still don't let him in. He almost laughs.

“I know,” he says, and finally pushes past me, through the balcony doors and into the living room, where Chaim isn't, because he's watching around the doorway a little too obviously. We're going to have to work on that. “It's why I came here.”

“If you know my address, you know my name,” I say, in consternation, while Chaim debates between giving a normal introduction to an exam and saying absolutely nothing.

“I'm not going to use it,” the kid says, wincing patiently as Chaim tries to treat his injuries, as unsure as I am about the end goal of patching him up, anyway. “I wouldn't tell anyone, anyway.”

“Can you give me your arm?” Chaim asks, gloved hands reaching out and, at a quick shake of the head, gently taking hold of it, “this really isn't something we should be doing at home, with nothing but a first aid kit handy,” Chaim says, but sets the kid's arm before he even has a chance to formulate an argument.

“I'll be fine,” the kid says, tears streaming from his eyes, but maintaining a fairly stoic demeanor. All of us try to avoid staring at the scars across his arms and chest. “I just need somewhere to lie low for a couple hours without, you know, bleeding out. Once I get home I've got a healer.”

“I don't like this,” Chaim says.

“I don't like it, either, but I'm not in charge of him,” I say.

“What's your name, sweetheart?” Chaim says, taking a needle to torn flesh. He doesn't use an anesthetic. I don't know why. He always does with me. He's more careful than he is with me, either, trying to watch the kid's face even as he works.

“He knows my name,” the kid says, gesturing vaguely at me, and giving both of us looks like we're idiots.

“I'm not calling you that,” I tell him. To which he just rolls his eyes, again. Chaim raises a questioning eyebrow, and I add, defensively, “it's a stupid name. He picked a stupid name. He's going to regret it in a few years. You know he will.”

“It's still his name,” Chaim says, dabbing on antiseptic cream in whichever places he deems appropriate, “you might as well call him what he likes while he's using it.”

The kid sighs. “Corinth. Is that better? I go by Corinth with people who don't know me professionally.” Which, you know, I don't really have any idea what to say to.

“Okay, Corinth,” Chaim says, “I'm going to shine a light in your eyes. Please try not to bite me,” and I realize he probably spends more time treating kids than he'd like to. Corinth seems horrified by the suggestion.

“Well, I just think, if you're going to be dropping by for treatment at random,” I tell him, watching him submit to the exam with sullen cooperation, “we ought to know your name, at the very least.”

“I'm not going to be dropping by,” Corinth says, once Chaim releases his chin, “this is strictly a one time thing, when there's, like, a murderer chasing me?”

“There's a murderer chasing you?” I ask, which is what I get for not questioning why the hell he looked like that in the first place. You know, you tell yourself ‘oh it's regular supervillain stuff’ and you end up forgetting the sort of thing that lands supervillains in this kind of predicament in the first place.

[penncilkid]

Hello hello! My name is PK and I'm a fervent enjoyer of non-canon ships. I'm not a fic writer exactly but I've been told "Where's the fic OP" twice now by my friends. So I thought I'd format one of my fic-adjacent ramble sessions for Tumblr!

Pairing: Milo/David [No Sweetheart or Angel, wanted to go easy on myself] [MDNI*] [Let's call this "canon reminiscent /lh]

Word Count: 3.2 K

*(I wouldn't consider this smut by any means but there's a few lines that make me want to add this as a tag)

[As a reminder, I diverge from canon quite a bit with this. This is just one route I could see leading to Milo and David getting together]

My vision for this pair is that they start getting closer in a more than just friends way a little bit after Gabe dies. Not immediately because have some decorum, but it would start during that transition period for David as Alpha. Asher is trying his best to help but is also grappling with the whole Beta thing, so he feels like he's in a complex position. But him and Milo can see that David's not doing great so Milo's like "Fine, I'll bite the bullet" and tries to confront David about it.

At first it's subtle, asking David if he needs help with something, if he wants anyone from the pack to stay after for meetings, if he wants them to pick up a shift so he can have the day off, etc. But David is too stubborn to accept any of it so he keeps brushing them off. This ends up culminating in a "fight" one day where Milo again tries to make an offer that David shoots down. Milo sort of snaps and is like "Alright, what the fuck gives? Why are you acting like you're too good to get help anymore, David?" David says he doesn't know what he's talking about, Milo calls bullshit. It doesn't turn into a screaming match but it's enough of a heated argument that Milo storms out of the den.

In the days following, Milo either calls out sick, switches shifts with people, anything to avoid seeing David. David brushes it off, thinking he's got more important things to worry about if Milo's going to throw a fit. But of course, Ash being Ash means this stuff can't fly for long, so he tells both David and Milo that he needs help with something at an odd time of day and then "coincidentally" doesn't show up. When Milo gets to the den, he's real tempted to get back in his car and leave. It's a mix of still being a little frustrated with David and being embarrassed that this "fight" has gone on for as long as it has. He walks up to David (who was waiting outside for Asher) and is like "Lemme guess, you're waiting for Ash?" "How did you...?" "Fucker told me the same thing."

They do some lighthearted bitching about their friend, which eases the tension. There's a bit of silence and right as Milo gets ready to apologize for speaking out of turn, David apologizes first. He acknowledges that Milo was right in what he said and that he's been struggling with everything changing, but he hasn't wanted it to show on the outside. Milo makes a light jab at David, "Alright well did you really expect that to go over my head? C'mon, David, we've known each other since we were kids. Gimme some credit" To make up for it, the two of them go out to eat, all that's chill. Cut to when Milo gets home, maybe has a drink or two as he's winding down. David sends him a message, confirming he made it home alright (because I've always latched onto the idea that he's super attentive to that given what happened with Gabe). Milo sends David a quick reply and wonders why seeing that message made him feel some type of way (romantic? Who knows, not Milo that's for sure /lh)

Now if I remember correctly, the audio where Angel learns about Gabe, it's been around 3 years since his passing. Keeping this in mind and in the spirit of being canon reminiscent, I think around/after this point is when Milo's feelings for David start to really bubble up. They've been building for awhile, much to his dismay. He's trying to play it cool, but his heart's in his damn throat any time David touches him casually or whenever the two of them are assigned to a job together. And he knows it's getting bad enough where he might lose focus, so he swallows his pride and does what he's been avoiding for months, if not years: asking Asher for advice.

"Alright, look: You and me both know that you had a lil crush on David when we were in high school. How the fuck did you get over it? I'm drowning, Ash." If this conversation is happening on the phone or at Asher's place, cue him yelling to Babe that they owe him 20 bucks (because it's funny to me <3). Asher asks Milo why he wants to get over the feelings so bad and Milo's like "'Cause this is David we're talking about." "So what?" "We've got... history. That complicates shit all on its own." "And?" "....Alright fine, and I'm also terrified he's not gonna feel the same. Happy?" Asher is being the little shit that he is, putting his arm around Milo's shoulder. "Listen. If I know David— And believe me, I do— What ya gotta do is be direct. If he doesn't feel the same, that's one thing. But if you even want a chance, you gotta be straight up with him. If you tried to ask him out casually, he'll just assume you're being friendly because that's what you are right now. Friends." Milo takes all this in and is like, "Nope, just gonna shove these feelings down for eternity." "I'll tell Marie—" "I will beat your ass." He knows Asher has a point though. Any idea Milo might've had could be easily construed as them just chilling as friends. But he doesn't really act on anything for awhile.

Now, before we get into the next phase of this, some added backstory: David had a crush on Milo growing up. I'm thinking a little after high school (won't say college necessarily since I don't picture them in college but like, young adulthood phase). He'd always found Milo incredibly attractive and found his boldness admirable in general. David was constantly thinking about what he had to do for others and how to make the pack look good (since he was the Alpha's kid then the pack Beta). Milo always felt incredibly refreshing to be around. But he figured Milo would never be interested in because David's just himself so he eventually got over it. Cut to that argument him and Milo had a few years back. He remembers that night when they made up because dinner had been fine but all he could do was focus on Milo. It felt nice to just hang out with him without the pressures of being Alpha. And he enjoyed listening to him talk about anything because he always had a strong opinion. I think around then is when his past feelings awoke again but there was a new obstacle: He was the Alpha of the pack. It wasn't like before, things were different. He'd never have a chance to pursue Milo without feeling like he had pushed Milo into a corner somehow. So again, he tried his best to push his feelings down, appreciate and value the friendship he had with Milo and leave it at that. It was enough to just have Milo in his life, even if it wasn't going to go any further.

Back to how these two end up together: the Moonbound Solstice. They're all at David's place, everyone's having a good time together. Milo's chilling, talking to someone from the pack when Asher cuts in and is like "Sorry, just gonna steal him for a minute" "Ash, you can't just— AY okay okay I'm coming" They walk off, somewhere far from the kitchen to minimize the risk of David overhearing. In hushed voices: "Alright, so what's the plan?" "Ash, what the fuck are you talking about?" "Milo, it's the Solstice. This is the perfect time to make a move." "Are you out of your damn mind? This is the last place I should be hitting on— On you know who." "What are you talking about it, it's perfect! The whole pack's here, no one would even notice." "Look, he's already got his hands full hosting the Solstice at his own place for a change. I'm just gonna chill and enjoy the night for what it is." Asher is pouting as Milo walks off, immediately thinking of what he can do to help nudge David Milo's way. (Unhinged alt route: Ash giving Milo a flat so he has to stay the night)

Cut to the end of the night, people are heading out and whatnot. David is subtly trying to get people out because he loves his pack but his senses need a break. Asher (+ Babe, package deal) and Milo offer to stay and help clean, and David lets them since it's only a handful of people. Milo's keeping his cool, vibing to the much lower playing music when: "Babe, what do you mean you have a work call you need to take tonight? Can't it wait?" "Sorry, Ash, I need to be home in the next twenty minutes" "Alright. Guess we're heading early." Milo thinks nothing of it until he makes eye contact with Babe. They smile with a sickeningly sweet wave. Those bastards. Before Milo can try to rope Ash into staying somehow, the two of them are gone.

When Milo and David are alone, Milo tries his best to focus on the task at hand because feelings or not, he's not gonna do a shit job at cleaning so David has to clean up after him. Once the bulk of it is done, David mentions that he needs to grab something from upstairs or maybe says he's going to go change out of his clothes (I imagine he put on something better looking but not as comfortable for the solstice). Milo's chill with that, getting his keys, phone, other personal belongings together. He happens to slip into the kitchen though, stealing a bit more of the food David had made for the solstice. While he's stealing (said with love), he hears very close to his ear: "You can take some home if you want." He nearly punches David, gripping his arm as he tries to slow his heart rate. "You tryin' give a guy a heart attack, Shaw (/lh)" because he legit didn't hear David come back downstairs. "Maybe if you weren't busy trying to steal some food, you would've heard me— Greer (/lh)." Milo rolls his eyes with a grin and there's a moment of quiet when he realizes his hand is still on David's arm.

He lets go, clearing his throat, confirming that it's actually cool if he wants to take some of the food home with him. David says sure, giving him a container to fill (or Milo takes whatever the food came in, not sure what I'm picturing David's cooking set-up to be). David walks Milo to the door (as a good host does) and the two of them talk in the doorway for a few minutes about upcoming jobs, responsibilities, all that formal shit. There's another quiet moment as the two of them watch each other. Inside, Milo's like "Alright, no one else is here. This is as good a chance as any." The second he gets ready to ask David out on a more proper date, David instead says "Good night, Milo" and essentially closes the door in his face. Milo stares for a moment before cursing himself in Spanish (my HC), walking to his car and muttering about how "Of course he was just being polite, what the fuck were you thinking?" On the other side of the door, David is groaning into his hands, face warm as he tries to calm down because he came way too close to making a move on Milo.

Intermission (Wow, you're still reading? Damn /pos): I wanted to think of how to push them closer to a confession before they actually get together and eventually settled on "sickfic shenanigans". Insert deliriously sick Milo whose phone died and he can't find a charger for the life of him so David goes over to his place to check on him. Initially, he's trying to get David to leave because "I can handle myself fine". But that doesn't last long because admittedly, he feels like shit and has been for the past 12 hours. The dynamic quickly turns into Milo convincing David to stay then being so sick his filter is hanging on by a thread (/lh). "Why do you have to go rush off so fast?" "Milo, I have a pack to take care of—" "First off, I'm part of the pack— (cue Milo coughing) And second, they'll be fine without their Alpha for a few hours." Milo's playing it off as lighthearted but David can tell he doesn't want to be cooped up inside alone on top of feeling like shit physically. A little later, when Milo's on the verge of falling asleep (as many do while sick), he's like "Y'know, it's fucking wild you don't got a mate, David. Like look at you. Doesn't make sense" David laughs at first, thinking Milo's sick delirious (which he is, but that's affecting his filter, not the validity of his words). He's like "ay, why are you laughing, I'm serious. Look— if I were ya mate, I'd treat ya right. I'd cook, I'd work extra hours so I could see ya, I'd make sure we're the best dressed wherever we go— not to mention, I got a great dick." David writes this off as Milo being sick and spewing nonsense but never forgets the words. Meanwhile, Milo (after getting over the sickness) is convinced he dreamt saying any of that to David.

Back to the present, David's been a bit stressed with work as of late so Asher suggests the pack take a trip/weekend vacation. He says he'll handle figuring everything out, letting David take a backseat this time. They go somewhere, a resort, a hotel, something that involves people having rooms they're staying in. Everyone's having a good time, chilling all day, night rolls around. David's in his room when he realizes he forgot to pack something— can be anything. Toothpaste, a charger, something for his hair, the specifics aren't important. He texts Asher, asking if he has the thing he forgot and Ash is like yeah. David asks Ash which room he's staying in, Ash texts him the room number. David leaves his room, goes there, knocks and waits patiently. Door opens, and who's standing there? Milo, shirtless and in the middle of brushing his teeth or some shit.

David's checking his phone to see if he went to the wrong room but nope, numbers match. "Asher must've made a typo. I just needed to borrow something from him." "Well, what did you need? Maybe I have it." Before David can leave, Milo's busy ushering him in, closing the door so he can finish brushing his teeth before finding what David needs. They're making idle conversation, talking about what they spent their respective days doing. While Milo's talking, David's kind of staring at his back, not processing a word he's saying. Milo turns around and notices and is like "What? Don't tell me there's a bug on me and you didn't say shit? (/lh)" and David is trying to think of a good cover up. Milo tries to lighten the mood, says he's just messing with David before going to find whatever David's looking to borrow. He finds it, hands it over when for a split second, his eyes land on David's crotch. David leaves shortly there after but all night, Milo's like "...That was a boner... why the fuck did he have a boner?" But again, Milo's mind is like "Nah, I'm reading this wrong somehow."

Now, I'm painting a picture: it's the next day, Ash, Milo, David, few others from the pack plan on doing something together while on the trip. Asher gets there a bit late but is somehow on time compared to David, who shows up minutes after (that man was up all night pining). Ash notices Milo's not here yet and has a devious idea (as always). He asks David to go check on Milo so they can go. "Why me?" "You were the last one here, it's only fair. Now shoo." David rolls his eyes but goes, getting to Milo's room, knocking. He can hear Milo's definitely inside because he's cursing and complaining. He knocks again before the door swings open to reveal a mildly disgruntled Milo Greer (my vision is he's in pants and a white tank with his name chain. The in between outfits outfit).

He asks what David is doing there, David explains that Asher sent him to pick up Milo, Milo's like "What time is it— Jesus fucking Christ." The issue at hand is Milo can't find an article of clothing that he swears he put in his bag. He's been trying to get by with alternative options but none of them look the way he wants them to, which is making him quietly lose his shit. David stifles a laugh, to which Milo lasers in on. "And what do you think you're laughing at?" "You haven't changed since we were kids, that's all." Milo scoffs but admittedly, the sentiment puts a smile on his face. Almost immediately after that moment, he finally finds what he was looking for (tucked under something, irrelevant right now). He starts to get ready, pulling his shirt on, buttoning it up but let's say a button or two is fighting him for whatever reason. Without a second thought, David walks up, buttoning it for Milo. Milo's having an internal moment as a result, staring at David's hands then his face. David finishes and looks up to catch Milo staring. He clears his throat, saying something about waiting in the hall when Milo catches his wrist.

"Can I take you out on a date?" "What?" "I don't know what or where yet, but I just— I know this is probably stupid and I'm shooting myself in the foot here, but Asher's gonna kick my ass if I don't do something so— Can I take you out on a date, David?" David's taken aback. "Wait... so you were serious. That time you were sick. All that stuff you said about being a good mate for me." "THAT WASN'T A DREAM?" Cue Milo letting go of David's hand and nearly cursing himself out, running a hand through his hair because now he's mortified. "I can't believe I actually said all that shit to you—" "Did you mean it?" "Huh?" For the first time, David's not looking at Milo like a friend or pack Alpha. The look in his eyes screams pure, unfiltered attraction. "Yes or no, Milo." Milo's face is hot, "Course I meant it. I'd treat you great if you gave me the chance to show you." David steps closer, gripping Milo's face gently and tilting it up towards his. "Show me." Milo grins before pulling David down to him, the kiss they shared far better than the ones he remembered from spin the bottle games they'd played as teens. This kiss felt deeper and closer than that could ever compare. The moment they break away, gasping for air, Milo's busy unbuttoning his shirt. David asks what he's doing, to which Milo replies "I'm about to savor as much time with you as I can before I have to see Asher's smug face. Unless you'd like to explain how your hair became a mess between the time you left to find me and when you get back?" David laughs before pulling Milo to him again.

So yeah, that concludes this fic adjacent ramble (/lh)! I love rarepairs and rambling, so if people enjoy this, I may format some other rambles as they arise. I think I've got some Sam/David tucked away somewhere, so let me know. If you actually read all of this, wow, okay, thank you (/lh /pos)

[noir-renard]

Okay so stop me if you've heard this one before, but I'm really happy to see the long-overdue recognition Goncharov is getting now (just in time for the 50th year anniversary too!)

BUT! Something I haven't seen anyone talking about is the 1987 stage adaptation of Goncharov, which is really too bad because it is ICONIC.

Like, okay, it's been a few years since I took American Theater History, but Goncharov was doing things no one else was doing. It did things no one has done since. This was a transformative adaptation to the point where it deserves to be recognized as its own thing.

I don't think I can possibly encapsulate everything this play is and accomplished so I'll focus on a few things, but I recommend looking up Taylor & Francis Contemporary Theatre Review for some articles on Goncharov (the play).

So, first of all, they had A Different Actor play Goncharov in Every Scene (*almost every scene, we'll come back to that). That in itself is absolutely buckwild, like this should have been a relatively inexpensive play to produce (small cast, minimal set, small stage, etc etc) but there were at least twenty four Goncharovs, possibly more. No one actually knows how many actors played Goncharov during its full run because they kept rotating the cast, but some estimates number in the hundreds; but there were never more than 24 during each performance. InSaNe, right?

But it doesn't stop there. See, the various Gonchs didn't wait backstage for their scenes, oh no. They sat in the audience. Pretending to be the audience, but was it really pretend? I really wish I could have been a fly on the wall for opening night. You arrive, you're excited to see this timeless film classic on stage (Theater purists will tell you stage theater is always better). The opening scene happens (you know the one lol), and you think, okay, this is fine, they're playing this by the book.

AND THEN THE GUY SITTING NEXT TO YOU WHO CAME WITH HIS WIFE STANDS UP AND WALKS UP TO THE STAGE, TAKES GONCHAROV'S HAT, COAT, AND TIE, DOES THE COSTUME CHANGE ON STAGE, AND STARTS THE NEXT SCENE!!

(and then the opening scene actor comes and sits down next to you, taking Gonch II's place, awkwardly squeezing past in the tiny seats to sit, asking you if he missed anything while he was in the bathroom??)

So you're confused, but the play is still going so you try to focus. Andrey is acting like everything is the same. Goncharov II makes a phone call to Ice Pick Joe, and he doesn't say he's ordering a hit, but you've seen the movie, you know what's up (this will be important later stay with me).

So there's another scene change, and sure enough, someone else gets up from the audience, walks to the stage, does the costume change, continues the play as if everything is normal and fine.

And this happens 23 times.

Now, you might think this is a novelty and that even if no one who watched the play talked about it to anyone who hadn't seen it, if you went back for a repeat viewing you'd know what to expect. But get this: they changed the order of the actors every night. And where they sat. And how they were dressed when they were part of the audience. So. Even if you knew it was going to happen, there was no way to predict exactly how it would happen!

Okay, so, I need to talk about the costume change on stage bit. Like, sure, kind of neat, but we all know there's a repeated motif in the film of Goncharov trying to fix his tie (symbolic of the "noose of time" tightening around his neck) but he never gets it quite right until Andrey fixes it for him.

And they did this in the play, too, but with a twist. See, up until the Andrey Ties The Knot Scene (lol subtle much), the Gonch who was leaving the stage would put the hat, coat, and tie on the new Gonch. So of course it wasn't quite right, all of these actors were built really differently! (Incredible costume design credit has to go to Nana Hastings here, like I don't know how she made the Sisterhood of the Traveling Goncharov work on stage but by god did she make it work)

Okay ajsjsjsb I keep getting sidetracked. Anyway. When Andrey fixes the tie and coat for the Goncharov on stage, this is, in fact, the final "actor" change. There are further scene changes, but now there's no one getting up from the audience anymore. And if you've seen the film, then it dawns on you: the Goncharov on stage is the one Andrey is gonna kill. Notably, the play reordered things a bit so the Katya Betrays Goncharov scene already happened before Andrey Ties the Knot, and the Gonch she tried to kill was a different Actor (yeah yeah symbolism of who you can show your truest self to we've all seen it).

So, back to the Andrey Ties the Knot scene (it's really important can I live). You might remember the argument that happens at the beginning of this scene in the movie. Well, in the play, the argument happens closer to the end. So if you know what's coming, the tension is building and building, and then the iconic line: Goncharov yells "how can you claim to understand me? To know what I want? To promise to give it to me? You don't even know who I am! I don't even know who I am!" Which, chills. But you see, at this moment, all the Goncharov Actors who've returned to sitting in the audience all stand up and yell the final line of this monologue with the Goncharov on stage. SO WILD. can you even imagine what that was like? You're so engrossed in the drama that you've forgotten the woman sitting next to you was on stage during scene 3. And now she's standing up and yelling! What's going to happen next??

Well. You know the line. Andrey sighs fondly, walks up to Goncharov, and says "I know you." And fixes Goncharov's tie.

And then it's intermission.

You're getting a snack in the lobby, and it's 1987 so you don't have access to a phone to tell your Goncharov Discord Server what you just witnessed. And what's going to happen next?? You still have half the play! (Or ⅓, at least!) But all that's really left is the betrayal scene. How are they going to stretch it out? You can't wait to see.

Intermission ends, you go back to your seat. It opens with Katya and Sofia. Ah, you think, so they've gone with the 'faked her death' interpretation. But then you notice the clock—which is front and center on the stage at all times during the play—has been set back. Is this a memory, then? A dream?

The question is never answered, but then Ice Pick Joe comes on stage and physically changes the hands himself. You see him get a phone call. You remember this—from the other end of the line. Goncharov is calling a hit. Ice Pick Joes accepts the hit. Hangs up. Walks to the clock. Moves it forward an hour, and leaves the stage. Another Katya scene, but she's changed into summer clothes. An actor you've never seen is on stage with her—this is her father, before he died. A death she feels responsible for.

The scene ends, Ice Pick Joe again. Same deal—a phone call from Gonch. He accepts the hit, and moves the clock forward. The next scene is an Andrey and Katya scene. There's so much subtext, it's hard to follow. Are they flirting? Plotting? Do they hate each other?

Ice Pick Joe again.

Now, at this point you start to notice something. There are fewer people in the audience than there should be (it was a small Blackbox theatre that got torn down in 1993, so I couldn't find any good photos, but it was small enough that you'd notice people missing).

You then realize that the ones going missing are the actors who played Goncharov. And then you see a pattern: every time Ice Pick Joe takes a call, an actor disappears. What does it mean?

This is never actually given meaningful resolution in the play, by the way, and the director refused to elaborate. What does it mean to you? Is all he'd say on the matter, but no one knew that while they were watching. Anyway I had to mention it because it's one of the wilder things this play did.

So there's all these out of time scenes staggered with Ice Pick Joe (until he dies RIP), and we "catch up". It's the final betrayal. Andrey is going to kill Goncharov, and everyone knows it, including Goncharov. "I never thought it would end like this." "You never were good at imagining happy endings," says Andrey. (I know you mouthed the lines don't lie no one can resist)

Andrey pulls the trigger, lights out—

When the lights come back up (RED LIGHTS) there's no body onstage, just the Goncharov costume. Andrey picks up the tie, the hat, the coat. He puts them all on. And he walks off stage.

AND THATS THE END OF THE PLAY. We don't see Goncharov actually die. We have no idea what happens to him. (When I tell you people have argued about this for decades, I mean it.)

The house lights turn up, you look around and see how empty the theater is. How many of the audience members were actors? You don't actually know. There is no curtain call. You walk out into the lobby in a daze, and all the actors are there, chatting. "Wild play, huh? I'm not sure I quite understood it, to be honest," they tell you. None of them break character. They are committed to the bit.

One of them tells you he enjoyed your performance. You think it might be Scorsese himself, though possibly it's Matteo JWHJ0715 in the flesh. Or maybe it was just another theater go-er trying to sound smart. Who knows?? Not you.

And that's Goncharov (1987), off Broadway in a nutshell.

It unfortunately only ran for a year because as it turns out, the theater owner had actual ties to the real mob and had to flee the country, and no one knew legally whether the play could run or if the theater counted as evidence—but that's another story.

The cast and crew of the play refused to move to a different theatre, though whether that was out of loyalty or fear, who can say?

[sanstropfremir]

ok, so here's my miscellaneous music show stages post! idk what to even call it in terms of an 'official' title or whatever, but who cares. a lot of my fave stages already ended up in the fave stylings posts or i've talked about them in some other capacity, so this is just for outliers and ones that have stuck in my mind over the last year!

+

set design

test me - xdinary heroes, music core 220723 // the concept of the test me cb was an underground battle of the bands type thing, and i loved the set design of this specific stage because it's so subtle and builts directly out of the existing stage intrastructure. also the yellow jumpsuits are cute, so sue me.

invu - taeyeon, inkigayo 220220 // honestly, i'm just obsessed with the choice to use the led floor panels to to simulate a pool, ringed with the surrounding greenery. the rest of the designs is great but lighting effects are always gonna get me

voyager - kihyun, music core 220319 // i LOVE this ship, it's a great way to work the band into the stage with different levels all in association with the theme.

+

styling

feeling - kim wansun, music core 220108 // the only pants to every exist in the history of ever

wooah hip - mamadol, mcountdown 220127 // my villain origin story is that mamadol was a temporary project group. give us kahi back!!!!

chase - minho, mcountdown 221229 // people have slept on minho's solo which i expected, but honestly i really enjoyed it and i like how he very clearly showed that he had clear ideas that he wanted to explore than aligned with his own interests. the styling overall was not particularly notable bc it's a very naturalistic theme, but this patent leather trenchcoat really is something that only minho could pull off

what if love - up10tion, music bank 221014 // what is even happening with these outfits. i'm obsessed with xiao's shirt.

chronograph - victon, inkigayo 220130 // just looking at any pictures of hanse from any two victon eras should be enough to convince you that gender isn't real.

undercover - craxy, music bank 220819 // fun af fake chain props for the choreo, very theatrical!

focus - ha sungwoon, mcountdown 220825 // he only did one stage bc this was right before he enlisted, but did he need to bedazzle his cleavage like that? did you sungwoon??????? also this choreo is so fucking fast like holy shit you really did the damn thing even though you did not need to

me = naneun - just b, show champion 221130 // if anyone wants to fill me on on what fuck bain is wearing i'd gladly take any info. train conductor chic is all i got

dance with god - craxy, mcountdown 220224 // i can guarantee that on any given day those gold fringed pants will pop into my head at any random time

tomboy - wei, show champion 220608 // no comment

boom - minhyuk, mcountdown 220630 // no comment, but louder. again, another cb that almost made my top stylings list, but i can't keep rewarding him like this. any one of these stages gives me brain damage.

louder - tan, inkigayo 220626 // could not tell you what is going on here. a.c.e's stylist seems to be periodically working with tan and so their styling ranges from fine to excellent to batshit insane on any given day and every single louder stage is a hit. honestly all of their cbs almost made my top stylings list just for the sheer insanity of them.

alone - highlight, music core 221112, YOSEOB PUT THOSE AWAY I SWEAR TO FUCKING GODDDDDDDDD. dongwoon don't think i didn't notice you also but we're not gonna talk about it. also yoseob's collar for this stage i'm gonna be sick who allowed them do this.

+

staging and/or other

this GORGEOUS staging of kim jaehwan's back then, it's one of the few times that i've seen in the round used properly in a kpop context and maybe the only time i've seen it on a music show? also great set design and it looks so good with his pinwheel lightsticks.

tbh i just picked a random ascension stage for this, bc the sheer amount of production value they put into everything they do deserves being viewed even if they didn't make any of my other lists. prop kings, literally.

dkz's mcountdown special stage of lupin, because she's a queen and she deserves the love

plus a couple of not specifically music show performances, but they they are music program performances. mostly this is here for me to pimp kbs listen up bc NOBODY watched it except me and nana and it literally had some of the best stages of the year:

kihyun's solo performance of someone's someone on k-909, bc it's soooooo cute. honestly ppl watch k-909 too they put so much production value into everything

dkz on listen up performing a remake of in the rain, featuring kyoungyoon doing a standing backflip for no reason??

seungsik, subin, and sejun (victon) on listen up having a ball and also flipping a couch over

woohyun on listen up being sluttier than he should be allowed to be

ren on listen up god i miss nu'est so BAD

ghost9 on listen up absolutely WRECKING the hundred millionth kpop song named monster

swan absolutely wrecking on listen up stan purple kiss i stg

+

that's a wrap on 2022 posts! now i'm gonna get cracking on all my backed up asks 😭

[russeliarat]

That periodic emotional pain has come when you realise that people don't really care much for fics that have original characters (even if its for a fandom) compared to x readers/ships etc, and guess what my main fics are! It confuses me because I get into this whole thing of asking whether it's because my writing is that bad, or because I have an unreliable schedule, or if my ideas aren't very interesting - just generally self-blaming stuff. It becomes very much an 'it's my fault' situation and idk if im being dumb half the time or if I'm actually onto something.

Oddly enough, I think this kind of self-accusatory behaviour comes from a kind of rejection others have had for my works and interests. Several of my once closest friends used to ignore the rants they said they'd listen to by beginning to derail conversations or even just start other conversations with other friends. One girl even laughed at an excerpt of a chapter I wrote on my notes app that morning and said she thought it was 'really Wattpad-y' and tried to take it back when being told that I wrote it and not someone else. I guess it's a general neurodivergent issue where neurotypicals (or specifically allistics from my experience) will find some way to reject or distract from something you're passionate about because they find it weird that you can love one thing so passionately.

Being a hypersensitive kid, I always picked up on these subtle cues that someone's become disinterested and I start to shut off. But it's not really a case of me feeling entitled to someone's interest, more like I'm disappointed that they don't reciprocate the kind of amusement or interest I do when they talk about something they like, especially if they're talking about something that's not my fixation. Like, why do NTs have such huge double standards? I get if I were purely just a blog or profile they followed because whenever I gain a new interest I fixate on, they seem to lose interest, but I'm not some instagram page they follow, I'm their irl friend! And then they expect me to keep up a level of enthusiasm they never give me when talking about their interests.

Idk at this point. I'm just tired and considering giving up. No clue what though, I'm just tired. Social interaction? Friendships? At this point, I'm just far too tired having to deal with everyone's expectations and considering becoming a shut-in, which is sad because by all means I'm still young. School's become too stressful and hard on me emotionally and constant mental jabbing by others isnt helping in the slightest so I'm straight up considering just quitting and taking god knows how long off, which my parents would rather kill me than due because of government fines. I'm just wondering if the horrors of life are being a trouble for anyone else right now or if I'm the crazy one like they say I am lol.

[ultfan]

                     the dismissal, while something that rouses slight suspicion, isn't something that causes him to immediately be critical. perhaps she could tell just at a glance that it was nothing serious. such would be the level of skill he would expect from a super high school level nurse. no... that was... fine. what would get him is obvious mistakes. any sign of sloppiness.

                     he watches her movements very intently. she puts on gloves — obviously for sanitary purposes. a red flag dings in the back of his mind, but he keeps his mouth shut for the time being. no, he wouldn't interrupt her. what good would it do if he pointed out a mistake he had noticed? how impudent of him to step out of line and explain to her how to do her work. how foolish to deem himself someone who would know better than her. and yet, he catalogues the small flaw regardless.

                     body tenses as she removes the wound dressing, a subtle wince in response. it's not as if he can't handle it, though. to komaeda it was something trivial. after all, he has pretty good pain tolerance! (thinks the man who said not even a minute earlier that he did not). he might even call this touch soft. can he ever recall anyone treating him with such care?

                     the cleaning stings a little, but she does it near perfectly. it is clear that this is something she knows how to do well — a natural ability of hers. truly mikan tsumiki was born to be a nurse. and what a beautiful fate that was for her. a noble talent, really. the amount of people she would be able to help... the amount of hope she could bring to the world! komaeda would love nothing more than to see just how amazing tsumiki could be.

                     everything is discarded, including the old gloves — it's good to stay clean. he is very susceptible to things like infection... his immune system wasn't the best and his treatment sure as hell did it no favors. but again, his injury worsening is of no concern to him. even if it would be a pain to deal with. he would just be disappointed in her. extremely so... and as he watches her put on her second pair of gloves he finds himself sinking into that feeling... how unfortunate.

                      an sharp inhale as she presses firmly against his skin. even if not directly on the wound, the pressure still hurts. good, though... a nurse should be firm and confident. a patient's health take priority over their discomfort, right?

‶  waterproof, huh? how thoughtful of you.  ″ he murmurs, sounding a little distracted as he looks at the dressing. wet - to - dry, wet - to - dry, wet - to - dry... he can barely pick up on her words. although the term does remind him of something. yes, now that she's done this much it's only right he say something. only now — when her mistake has been solidified.

                     ‶  but did you have to be so unsanitary?  ″ his head tilts just slightly as he looks to her face. his voice doesn't sound harsh. rather, he seems dissatisfied. as if she had let him down in some crucial way. which, in his eyes, she had.  ‶  you would contaminate your gloves by putting them on, wouldn't you? i thought that at least washing your hands was something you would do instinctively, so i'm feeling a little down. i get infections rather easily, you see...  ″

                     ‶  i guess you wouldn't know about that, huh? that's a shame. i was hoping the super high school level nurse would be a little more thorough when treating her patients...  ″ he lets out a soft sigh. the words out of his mouth sure are arrogant despite what he was saying earlier — how she should tend to more important patients. how he wasn't worthy of her time.

                     ... was that also part of this judgement of her character? it's really impossible to know whether he would've called her out if she had listened to his words and acted dismissively towards him.

                     ‶  oh well...  ″

she   isn't   sure   if   she's   ever   been   so   (   needlessly   ?   is   she   really   irrational   for   feeling   so   frightened   of   him   ?   )   scared   in   her   life   —   as   much   as   she   wishes   to   give   no   visible   indicators   of   her   distress,   the   way   in   which   the   whites   of   her   eyes   expand   is   unavoidable.   he's   so   ...   dangerous.   and   this   is   a   trait   that   reveals   itself   in   every   word   that   drools   from   his   lips,   every   time   his   eyes   drink   in   their   surroundings,   and   every   micro   -   adjustment   of   his   body.   dangerous,   dangerous,   dangerous.

❝   if   it   k-   kept   you   alive,   it   can't   be   that   unremarkable   ...   uuu   ...   a-   actually   !   i'm   sorry   if   i   spoke   out   of   turn   !   m-   maybe   i   should   just   stick   to   ...   medical   updates   ...   ❞   aka,   the   point   wherein   she   realizes   she   doesn't   want   to   encourage   him   to   speak   more   than   necessary   ;   she   harbors   no   interest   in   debating   the   minutia   of   whether   or   not   his   talent   is   remarkable.

instead   :   mikan   makes   her   best   attempt   to   ignore   his   eyes   on   her.   it's   only   natural   for   a   patient   to   watch   what's   being   done   to   them   ...   right   ?   and   yet   still,   something   feels   so   wrong   about   it   all   ;   something   dirty,   illicit,   unwell.   she   can't   give   such   a   rotted   thought   process   any   more   attention   than   she   already   has.   if   she   can   simply   replace   his   wound   dressings,   and   go   on   her   merry   way   ———   yes,   that   was   ideal.   namely   ...   the   ideation   of   getting   out   of   here.

❝   it's   nothing   to   be   concerned   about.   ❞

after   all,   it's   presumably just   the   inflammatory   stage   —   probably   just   his   body   working   to   clean   and   stabilize   the   wound.   nothing   to   be   concerned   about,   nothing   to   necessitate   his   speaking   once   more.

latex   of   white   gloves   is   pulled   taut   over   her   hands,   and   it   is   then   she   brings   her   fingers   to   the   over   -   saturated   dressing,   pinching   at   the   old   adhesive.   the   sensation   would   be   uncomfortable,   not   unbearable,   so   she   figures   it   best   not   to   speak   on   it   at   all.   for   selfish   reasons   or   otherwise.   mikan   pulls,   and   pulls,   and   pulls,   peeling   each   layer   of   medical   tape   back   such   that   she   can   remove   the   gauze   ...   hm.   the   old   gauze   is   stuffed   in   a   small   bag,   one   she   will   dispose   of   back   at   the   school's   medical   facility.   god   knows   what   he'd   do   with   unbridled   access   to   her   talent   like   that.   then,   with   smaller   pieces   of   gauze   and   a   saline   solution,   she   works   at   cleaning   off   the   wound,   rubbing   gently,   gently,   gently.

she   ruminates   briefly   if   hydrocolloids   would   serve   greater   purpose   than   wet   -   to   -   dry   gauze   —   the   answer   was   an   infallible   yes.   so,   with   little   hesitation,   she   prepares   the   occlusive   adhesive,   bonding   it   to   a   semipermeable   film.   this   would   be   ...   better   in   a   multitude   of   ways.   he   could   go   longer   without   having   it   replaced,   meaning   she   could   avoid   him   for   a   longer   stretch   of   time.   and   semipermeable   film   dressings   had   the   benefit   of   being   waterproof,   such   that   he   was   able   to   shower   or   bathe   :   this   is   something   mikan   silently   prays   she   needs   not   to   aid   in.

first   pair   of   gloves   is   disposed   of   in   the   same   bag   as   his   old   wound   dressings,   with   a   second   pair   in   their   place.   she   should   really   be   washing   her   hands,   and   thoroughly   —   the   diligence   escapes   her   mind.   as   it   stands,   she   simply   doesn't,   and   instead   the   film   dressing   comes   to   cover   the   wound,   firmness   in   the   way   she   presses   it   into   unbroken   skin.

❝   this   ...   this   is   a   semipermeable   film   dressing   ...   i-   it's   waterproof,   so   you're   able   to   shower   ...   and   overall   i   t-   think   it   should   be   better   for   your   healing   process.   ehe   ...   i   think   the   wet   -   to   -   dry   gauze   was   a   misjudgment   on   my   part   ...   ❞   and   this   is   where   her   voice   drops   low,   near   inaudible,   and   yet   she   speaks   with   a   sing   -   songy   cadence,   ❝   wet   -   to   -   dry,   wet   -   to   -   dry,   wet   -   to   -   dry,   wet   -   to   -   dry   ...   ❞

[soyouthinkucanwrite]

The money thing (part 1/2) - Daniel Ricciardo

It's always the little things, isn't it? The smallest stupidest things make almost no difference and then make all the difference in the world. They make everything special, but they also have the power to tear everything appart.

You and Daniel fight about money for the thousand time and he's had enough of it.

Warnings: super angst, but with a happy ending :)

Guys, this turned out WAY BIGGER than I expected, so I'm just gonna do a part 2, okay? Okay, thanks for understanding!

Song that inspired me: A list by HVOB

You and Daniel had been dating for a couple months now, having met through a common friend and hitting off almost instantly. You lived in Amsterdam and he, well he lived all over the world really, but his "time off" (meaning not racing) was spent between Monaco and London (for work), and Amsterdam now too, of course.

The changes were small and subtle at the beginning, like your weekends being spent traveling to meet him wherever in the world he was and consequently spending almost all your savings on plane tickets. You never complained to him (you planned on spending the money traveling anyway, so you didn't see the point), but didn't accept when he offered to buy your tickets, either. There's been some awkwardness around the subject but it usually died on its own.

*beginning of flashback*

"You’d have gotten here in time if you'd gotten the early flight like I told you" you remembered him saying that time you got in the paddock after the qualifying session had begun and couldn’t kiss him good luck.

"Baby, I told you. It was crazy expensive! Absurd even!"

"(y/n) for god's sake! What are we saving money for? I told you, you have my credit card number, I've offered to get you one, this is ridiculous, I can't believe I literally earn millions and my girlfriend wasn't there with me because the ticket was too expensive! I'll fucking fly you private if I have to!" he was almost yelling in his driver's room. You could only stare from the corner.

He took a deep breath running his hands through his hair. "Sorry. It's just... it was crap out there. I needed you" you grimaced at his words.

"Sorry. I really am..." you tried to approach him. "I'm here now?" you touched his arm. "It can't have been that bad, you're still on the top 10 and we both know what you can do from the 8th car..." you smiled at him.

*end of flashback*

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

He started to spend much more of his time off with you at your place, so you decided to get a place by yourself (having a roommate was great for company and splitting the rent, but having a roommate there while you guys just wanted some much-needed privacy was not working). Then there were more traveling to meet him, furniture for the new place, clothing for all the events (GPs or not), uber rides here and there... all of that without mentioning that you weren't being able to get the freelance jobs you used to get to make some extra money, so yeah, to say things were tight was an understatement. You tried to do all your shopping alone, so he wouldn't offer and you wouldn't refuse or be awkward about it, but Daniel seem to be glued to you whenever you were in the same city (not that you’re complaining).

The thing is, you always had trouble dealing with money. Sure, you liked to pay for your own stuff so as to not owe anything to anyone (especially boys), but it was so much deeper than that. Ever since a kid, you hated asking for money from your parents, and sometimes even the thought of buying stuff that was a bit more expensive made you sick. You couldn't explain why, you just felt guilty having so much and knowing that most people have never even seen that amount. It's not that you didn't want to spend it and save for the sake of it, you just didn't handle the idea of money very well. Needless to say, dating a millionnaire was bound to cause trouble in the relationship for you.

You were currently at his place in Monaco. It was the summer break and you had decided to spend some days just chilling at home, just the two of you - which you were glad since going out means hair, makeup, clothes, accessories, shoes... and, let's be honest, the kind of places he usually took you is not the kind of places you just throw something together last minute (the Instagram models and other driver's girlfriends looking you up and down were enough to make you think about spending money you did not have to hire a stylist or something like that). The whole situation was really stressing you out and you knew you would have to be honest with him eventually, instead of only dodging the subject and refusing most of his offers to pay. You tried to. You kind of tried. You suggested staying at home, in bed, most of the time, and he gladly agreed, but that strategy wasn't gonna work forever. You had to be honest with him. But at the same time, you knew what he was going to say and do, and the thought of him spending money on you, even if just by handling the restaurant bill, wasn't something you were much more comfortable with. Besides, it was only a matter of time before the "gold-digger" term starts to fly around in the small world that was the F1's.

You were laying on his couch, the Olympics playing on the TV but you were too busy overthinking the money thing to pay attention. Daniel was laying with his head on your lap, absently caressing your thigh and watching the TV. His phone went off and he moved to pick it up.

"Hello?" you watched as he answered the phone. "Hey mate, how's it going? Uh nothing, we're just chilling at home. Getting some rest... Yeah, I'm getting rested, you dirty-minded son of a bitch" you rolled your eyes while he laughed out loud on the line with someone. "Yeah, I know... the 19th is it? No, it's fine. Yeah, yeah. I'll be there. Alright, mate. Thanks for calling. Have a good one! Bye!" he hanged up and leaned in to peck you on the lips.

"Good news?" you asked him.

"Not really. Just wanted to kiss you" he shrugged, smiling. You smiled back and hugged him, pulling him in for another kiss. He was always so caring with you, always finding an excuse to kiss or touch you. You knew some people didn't like it, but you loved it. Physical touch was definitely one of your love languages.

"What's happening on the 19th then?" you asked him once you guys set apart from the kiss.

"Gotta be in London. Gonna run some testings and other boring race stuff..."

"Hum..." you hummed in understanding.

"You know what would make it less boring though?" he asked and you just looked at him, you already knew what he was going to ask you and it wasn't that you didn't want to spend every minute of the day with him, but you simply couldn't afford any more traveling, especially not in such short notice. "If you came with me. Huh? What do you say? A week in the Queen's land? Then we can fly together to Spa and after the race, I can go with you to Amsterdam. The next one it's the Dutch GP anyway, I'll just get there sooner" he laughed. It was crushing you, the man of your dreams was literally beaming at making plans with you, talking about spending the next few weeks glued together and you couldn't say yes.

"Dan, I have to work" you smiled sadly.

"Can't you work from distance? Or, I don't know, I mean... I know it's tiring, but you could come to London and fly home a bit early, then just meet me in Belgium?" great, his solution includes even more flying. And the thing is, you really didn't mind the flying. You always slept during the whole thing anyway, so you never got tired and the jetlag was minimal. You could work from distance, sure. Your boss wouldn't mind, as long as you got there eventually to check in on everything. But the whole logistics were just too expensive. There was no way you could afford it.

"I... sorry, I don't think I can" you said sadly and watched as his face dropped.

"That's fine, baby. I get it. I'm asking too much, all this traveling... don't worry about it" he tried to mask his emotions but you knew better. He knew you could in fact work from distance, so he was probably thinking the reason you couldn't do it was because you didn't want to.

He got up from the couch and walked into the kitchen. Meanwhile, you couldn't help but bury your face in your palms. This was so frustrating!

"You wanna go for a run or something? Maybe get something to eat?" he called from the kitchen, already moving on from the subject. You knew this whole thing was only gonna keep build up till he got tired of your excuses or you blowing up, probably the former, but you just keep going.

"Yeah, sure" you answered, getting up from the couch.

You and Daniel were both very active so going for a run, hiking, riding bikes, or whatever in the middle of the day was really routine for you. The Monaco summer weather was as beautiful as always and the sun was shining bright. You enjoyed the rest of your afternoon racing each other, kissing in the harbor, and just taking in the views, spending quality time together. Money wasn't even a thing in your bubble for a while.

"I'm getting hungry" he said on the way back home.

"Me too, and I'm super hot. I could go for a juice or something right now" you were all sweaty from the running, but you didn't care, he was too.

"You're always hot baby, I don't think juice gonna help with that" he grinned at you and you just rolled your eyes at him.

You passed by one of his favorite spots for food, nearby his place and he suggested getting some take-out, to which you agreed.

"Green juice, and a chicken wrap?" you tried to decide while the both of you waited in line.

"I'll never understand how you drink that"

"I've seen you drink that too, it's actually very refreshing"

"Because I'm forced to, I'm a high-performance athlete baby. But I'm on a break, so I'll have a coke, thank you very much" you laughed at him. He was holding your hand and tried to kiss you, wrapping his arm around you, you didn't dodge his kiss, you would never, but still laughed at the fact he wanted to kiss the sweaty mess you were right now.

"I'm gross, only you" you laughed.

"That's my baby, with no makeup she a ten" he rapped shrugging and grinning.

"Alright Lil Wayne, I know that one, don't even finish the verse" you laughed at him, making him laugh out loud, getting everyone's in the restaurant's attention.

"It's true, though"

"Sure..." You just shook your head smiling. Then you heard someone call his name.

"Hey! Daniel!" you both turned around to see Charles and Charlotte sitting in a corner, him waving at you two. You had met Charles a couple of times before but never spoke too much to him. They seemed to be leaving anyway, so they walked towards you guys, instead of towards the door.

"Hey mate, how's it going?" Daniel greeted him with a handshake. "Hey, Charlotte! You know (y/n) yet?"

"Hi! I don't think so, hi! How are you?" she greeted you smiling.

"Hi! Nice to meet you. Hi, Charles!" you said.

"Hey, (y/n). You're keeping him in line during the break? Char won't let me cheat my diet either" he laughed.

"Oh, that ship has sailed long ago! Daniel will just roll into the paddock if it's up to him" you laughed back.

"Hey! I think I've earned the right to some extra calories, we've been working out extra hard lately" Daniel said waving his eyebrows suggestively, making Charlotte giggle, Charles rolls his eyes and you go even redder than you were from the actual workout, while he just laughed out loud.

"I don't even want to know" Charles said. "Always great running into you mate" he was getting ready to say goodbye.

"Are we seeing you guys tomorrow?" Charlotte asked you.

"Tomorrow?" you asked her.

"Stefano's birthday" she said like it was obvious. Stefano Domenicali was the President and CEO of Formula 1, but you didn't know that yet - still, her tone made it seems like it was someone Daniel knew, so you just looked at him. He just rubbed his neck, looking a little embarrassed. "Oh, wait. Please tell me I didn't just said something I shouldn't" she looked at Charles.

"No, no. He invited me. Us, actually" Daniel reassured her. "I don't think we're going though, forgot to mention to you" he said looking at you.

"Uh mate, I wouldn't skip that if I were you. He didn't even invite all the drivers I heard" Charles said. "Maybe just stop by to say hello?"

"Stop by... a yacht... at the sea?" Charlotte said grinning at him. Daniel looked at you.

"You feel like going? It should be fun" he asked you.

"Sounds fancy... I mean, I don't mind if you go" you said.

"Common... I’m not going alone" he nudged you.

"I don't even have anything to wear, Dan" you told him.

"Oh! We can go shopping together!" Charlotte said and you had almost forgotten they were still there.

"Perfect!" Daniel answered for you. You could only imagine the types of stores she shopped.

"Tomorrow morning, then? Daniel can text your address to Charles for me? I'll pick you up!" she was being really nice about it.

"I thought you wanted to go today?" Charles said.

"That's when I thought I would have to go shopping with you, so I could use the extra time since you're the worst shopping partner ever!" she laughed at him.

"Burn!" Daniel laughed.

"His fashion taste is not the most reliable, let's face it" she laughed and kissed his cheek. "It's a date then (y/n)?" she looked expectantly at you. You didn't want to let her down, it was so hard to make friends with the girlfriends of other drivers, they were usually so... not nice. You could always just help her and find something to wear in your own stuff later.

"Yeah, sure! See you tomorrow, at 10?" you said simply.

"Perfect!" she beamed.

>>> end of part 1 <<<

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [one] // wanda maximoff

summary: when you're paired with the most popular girl in your grade for Chemistry class, you definitely don't expect to start liking her like that...

warning/s: none i don't think??

author's note: okay so i have a ton of requests to work through but i got sidetracked and before i knew it, five parts of this imagine were written.

It's based off the song 'Teenage Dirtbag' and idk, i thought it was cute to write! Who doesn't love the popular girl!wanda and loner!reader concept?

Here’s a cover of the song to listen to because i really liked it and a girl sings it so it immediately made the song 10x more gay, just how i like it 🥰

masterlist | wattpad | part two | part three | part four | part five

"Are you all comfortable?"

The class stayed silent, watching our Chemistry teacher, Mr. Hale, as he looked to everyone with a raised brow.

"You all like who you're sat with?" he asked again, as if expecting an actual response from someone.

I exchanged questioning glances with my best friend, Y/BF/N, who was sat beside me. It was the first day back in Chemistry class of our final year of high school and we were just waiting to begin.

"Anyone?" he asked, looking around.

"Yeah," a few students mumbled in response so we could move on.

He clapped his hands together. "Great! Well, don't get too comfortable because I made a seating chart."

A chorus of groans erupted from the class, including from me and Y/BF/N. Every other class had successfully managed to not give us a seating chart. I'd heard that Mr. Hale was an awkward teacher who hated students (ironically), but I didn't think he'd stoop so low as to pair us with students who weren't our friends. These new seats were also our partners for the rest of the year and were non-negotiable, so any projects or work we did would have to be with our seat buddy. Fun.

Students began to shuffle to their newly-assigned seats reluctantly as Mr. Hale read out the chart. When Y/BF/N left my side, I frowned dramatically, waving goodbye to him.

"Wanda Maximoff, you're now partners with Y/N Y/L/N," said Mr. Hale, making me look up at the mention of my name.

I didn't get chance to register what he'd said as the aforementioned girl soon approached me, settling her bag on the table beside me. I looked up and saw Wanda Maximoff smiling my way before taking a seat on the stool.

Huh. Wanda Maximoff. She was one of the most popular girls in our grade. Everybody loved her, either wanting to be friends with her, be with her or be her. I'd personally never crossed paths with her apart from the few classes we shared. She seemed nice enough, but I guess I had preconceived notions of what she was like since she'd made the very poor decision to date the most obnoxious guy ever. Anyone making decisions that terrible definitely had a flaw.

She had a twin brother, Pietro, who was also in our grade and played on the football team alongside her boyfriend. Her parents were good friends with mine, through mutual friends, I think, as I recalled my mum mentioning 'Mrs. Maximoff's boy' or 'Mrs. Maximoff's girl'. And I remembered when her family moved into our town back in second grade.

Admittedly, Wanda was the star of the show back then, too. We were only kids, but child Y/N wasn't blind. She was the first girl I'd crushed on, an innocent child crush – the crush that made me realise I liked girls. Apart from that, and the fact that she had a locker behind me in the hallway, I never really thought about her.

I glanced behind me, catching Y/BF/N's gaze across the room as he sat beside some other kid. He frowned, implying he wished we were partners, and I knew just how he felt.

Once Mr. Hale finished assigning seats, he gave us five minutes to get to know our new partners as he struggled to find the powerpoint for today's class. If there was anything worse than getting assigned seats, it was ice breakers.

"Er, well, hi," Wanda greeted, turning to face me. Green eyes sparkled brightly behind a friendly smile. "I'm Wanda. But, I mean, we already know each other."

"That we do," I said with a nod, returning her smile. "How're you doing? Your summer go well?"

She ran a hand through her hair, adjusting herself so she was comfortable on her stool. And as she did, a waft of her perfume washed over me and I blinked, trying to ignore how nice it smelled. Floral. Subtle. It suited her.

"Good, yeah," she answered with a nod. "Could have gone on longer for all I care."

I chuckled. "I feel that. I'm definitely not ready to be back."

"Right?" she said with raised brows. "It's gonna take a while to get back into routine, that's for sure. But I guess I did miss seeing my friends everyday."

I hummed in agreement, eyes flickering to Mr. Hale as he attempted to tackle the oncoming stream of animations on his powerpoint. I tried not to laugh as I looked back to Wanda, who clearly noticed the same thing as me and stifled a smile.

"Have you had Mr. Hale before?" I asked, nodding his way.

She shook her head. "Nope. You?"

"Never."

"Sucks that he makes seating charts," she said with a sigh, before realising what she said and looking to me with panicked eyes. "Not that I don't like you or anything–!"

"It's fine, I get it," I cut her off with an amused smile. "I wanted to sit with my friend, too."

She breathed out quietly, a hint of relief in her eyes, and scrunched her nose with an apologetic smile. Okay, yeah, maybe that was kind of cute. Older Y/N wasn't blind either. Wanda Maximoff was beautiful, with long brunette locks and matching hazel eyes that seemed to change from blue to green to brown in a kaleidoscope of colour. A winning smile and soothing voice was enough for anyone to fall for her unintentional charm, but it was purely admiration. Everyone pretty much had a mild crush on her, you'd be stupid not to.

"If we're gonna be working together, d'you wanna get the whole awkward number exchange out the way now?" she asked, half joking, half not.

"I– er– sure," I stumbled out rather carelessly, before cringing internally. Where did that come from?

Thankfully, she didn't seem to pick up on it (or just saved me the embarrassment of acknowledging it) and was already writing her number on a slip of paper. Sliding it my way, she capped her pen and gave me her signature smile.

"Thanks," I said with a nod, accepting the paper and pocketing it. "Can't wait to start those lovely science projects we've got coming up!"

She let out a quiet laugh at my sarcasm. "It'll be fine. You're not dumb, right? So, we'll be fine."

"Can't promise you that," I joked, making her roll her eyes playfully.

"Maybe if we–"

But she was cut off when Mr. Hale spoke up loudly, interrupting everyone's conversations.

"Five minutes are up, let's begin!"

I wondered if everyone was thinking the same thing as me – that was not five minutes.

"So it begins...," I mumbled to myself, facing forward.

Wanda breathed out, a stifled laugh, probably having heard my comment, and I couldn't help but crack a smile. Maybe I judged her too harshly. She wasn't actually that bad.

—

Since being paired with Wanda, I was surprised by how much she'd made an effort to befriend me outside of class. We'd always been back to back with our lockers though not quite speaking, but since becoming Chemistry partners, she'd wish me a good morning if she caught me, or greet me briefly as we collected our books.

She didn't have to, but I could see why everybody liked her now. She was just genuinely nice. Due to circumstance, we'd become partners, but rather than leaving it at that, she made a genuine effort to befriend me. And not even just me, but also Y/BF/N, who was at the locker next to mine. He was as surprised as I was, expecting Wanda to mind her own business as we weren't exactly in the same social circles.

This was, I guess you could say, the start of our friendship. And it was a good one at that. I grew to learn how funny she was, how much she loved her brother, the passion she had for art and painting... she was a wonderful person. Which is why I didn't understand why she was with her boyfriend, Nate. He was a grade-A dick and everything Wanda wasn't. How were they a thing?

It sounds like I'm being a bitch and judgemental, but he really is the worst. The few unfortunate times I shared a class with him or caught sight of him around school, he was causing some sort of trouble with the teachers or picking on students in a way that made it seem like a joke but everybody knew it wasn't.

For example, there was a time when Wanda and I were studying for an upcoming Chemistry test we had. We decided to just help each other study since we already worked together in class, so knew we could motivate each other to actually put in the work. It was, maybe, the fourth studying session we had, and I was going over some notes when I felt her eyes watching me.

"You need a hand?" I asked, unable to take the staring any longer. I looked up at her, quirking a brow.

She seemed to fall out of her daydream and straightened up, eyes flickering to mine. "Huh?"

I gave her an awkward smile, unable to maintain her gaze. "You're staring."

She didn't seem fazed as I called her out, instead leaning back in her seat and continuing to study me curiously.

"Did you do something different with your hair?"

Subconsciously reaching for my hair, I straightened up my ponytail and shook my head. "No...?"

She chewed on her lip, saying after a pause, "You tied it up. You usually leave it out."

Did I? I wasn't sure. I just knew that her noticing something like that made me feel self conscious all of a sudden.

"It looks good," she decided, before offering up a small smile. "You should do it like that more often."

Quickly, I felt warm. Was it stuffy in here or was it just me? God, compliments already made me feel stupid. And compliments from pretty girls made me feel ten times that. It didn't help that she was watching me with an endearing expression, making me focus on my book before me.

"Thanks," I got out quickly. "I– yeah."

Her smile widened before she looked back down to her own book. Suddenly, I became acutely aware of the way her leg brushed up against mine under the table.

Thankfully, the strange fuzzy feeling following her compliment faded and we were able to get back to work without her tuning out again. As we were going over each other's practice questions, an annoying voice shouted from across the library.

"Wanda, head's up!"

"Hey, no talking in the library!" a librarian hissed at the voice.

Wanda and I looked up just in time for a football to smack me in the side of the head. I didn't even see it coming until I felt the thing slap my head, giving me an instant urge to strangle whoever threw it.

"Fuck," I cursed, holding my head and closing my eyes to breathe through the pain.

"Oh my God, are you okay?" Wanda's voice made me open my eyes and I saw her leaning forward, hand resting on my shoulder and the other on top of mine that was clutching my head.

"Been better," I admitted, trying to make light of the situation because as angry as I was at the idiot who threw it, I was also embarrassed because it hit me.

Wanda seemed concerned as she gently pulled me hand away, not letting go as she got a better look at the side of my face which I was sure was burning red. At least that's what it felt like.

"Shit, I'm so sorry."

I looked up and saw none other than Nate Green, Wanda's boyfriend, hovering and stifling a laugh as he looked at me. He had his stupid varsity jacket on and I was tempted to strangle him with it.

"I thought Wanda would catch it," he explained stupidly, before moving around the desk to collect his football.

Breathing out through gritted teeth, I pulled away from Wanda and nodded reassuringly. "I'll be fine. Just need an ice pack."

"You're such an idiot, Nate!" Wanda snapped, looking to him with a glare. "You need to watch what you're doing!"

He smiled sheepishly, making me roll my eyes and clench my jaw at the heat on the right side of my face. Fuck, that really hurt.

"What did you want?" Wanda asked him with a quirked brow. She definitely wasn't impressed. I'd hate to ever be on the wrong side of that condescending glare.

"I thought we could go out," he said like it was that simple.

"I'm studying," she quipped with crossed arms.

"I'm happy to wait," he said, toying with the ball in his hands.

Knowing I definitely didn't want that, I closed my books and said, "It's cool. You guys go. I think we're done here anyway."

Nate grinned. "See? S'all good."

Wanda ignored him and looked to me with worried eyes. "Y/N, are you sure?"

"You know your stuff," I said, referring to the work. "You'll be fine in the test. I'm sure."

I offered her a small, forced smile, before standing up to pack my bag. She did the same, beginning to pack her own things, but her eyes kept flittering towards me.

"D'you want me to go to the nurse's office with you?" she asked, shame laced in her voice.

"It's fine, I'll be fine," I said, hurrying up with my actions so I could just get out of here whilst I still had (some of) my dignity left. "See you in class tomorrow."

She nodded, sending a guilty smile my way. "See you tomorrow, Y/N."

Without giving either of them a look, I shouldered my backpack and left the library. Just another reminder of why Nate Green was literally the worst person ever.

—

Liking Wanda as more than a friend wasn't something that happened for a while if I'm being honest. I guess I started to enjoy her presence more and more the longer we spent time together.

I'd come to appreciate it whenever she'd say something completely out of the blue that made no sense whatsoever, or whenever she'd laugh at something I'd said that was arguably not funny but she didn't want to make me feel bad, or even whenever I teased her about something stupid she did, resulting in her doing that cute little nose scrunch she did. But I didn't think of it as liking her, more just a randomly-formed friendship that I was glad to have.

Maybe it was this misinterpretation that didn't make me see how I was acting around her, such as the time I was in the dinner queue at lunch when I realised she was stood behind me.

"Oh, hey, Y/N," she said when she noticed it was me in front of her. Her usual bright, friendly smile was on her lips as she looked to me. "You good?"

I nodded, returning her smile. "Yeah. Just getting some doughnuts for Y/BF/N and I. You?"

"Same," she said, before nudging the guy next to her, who I recognised as her brother. "Pietro and I thought we'd treat ourselves."

At the mention of his name, Pietro looked down to his sister before his gaze fell on me. A mischievous smile appeared on his lips as he put out his hand.

"Pietro Maximoff," he introduced. "You must be the Chemistry partner, Y/N, right?"

I raised my eyebrows with surprise as I shook his hand. "You, er, know who I am?"

He glanced at his sister with a cheeky smile. Wanda was avoiding both of our gazes, her cheeks dusting pink.

Clearly saving face for Wanda, he said, "We've been in the same grade since kids, right? 'Course I do."

Despite the truth to his words, something told me that wasn't how he knew who I was. Especially since I was sure I'd never spoken to him in my life. But, to save Wanda the embarrassment of clearly having spoken of me at home, I nodded to Pietro.

"Right," I agreed with an amused smile. "Duh."

I moved down the queue and grabbed two doughnuts from the display, putting them in two separate paper bags.

"Dibs the last one!" Pietro exclaimed as soon as I returned the clippers to the display. He reached around his sister immaturely and bagged the last doughnut.

Wanda rolled her eyes. "You know I can ask for more, right?"

Pietro grinned, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Go on then."

The two were twins, but they couldn't have been more different. I simply revelled in their interaction, finding it adorable.

Wanda did as she said, asking the dinner lady if there were any more doughnuts in the back. Unfortunately for her, those were the last for the day, making Pietro laugh as Wanda pouted.

"Sucks to be you," he teased her, as I paid for mine and Y/BF/N's doughnuts.

"I hate you," she mumbled playfully, but I saw the disappointment in her eyes as he lovingly but annoyingly waved his bag before her eyes.

Without even thinking much of it, I held out one of the bags in my hand. "Here. You can have mine."

Wanda looked to me with surprise. "Are you sure? I can live without a doughnut, if that's what you're thinking."

I chuckled, grabbing her hand and making her take it. "It's okay. I wasn't in the mood anyway."

Plus, you look better when you're smiling and not pouting, I added in my head.

She accepted the bag reluctantly. "I– thanks. At least let me pay for it–"

"It's just a doughnut, Wanda," I teased, before nodding her way. "See you later."

Leaving her and Pietro to it, I headed back to the table Y/BF/N was sat at and took a seat opposite him before giving him his doughnut.

"Sweet," he said, quickly opening the bag before realising I didn't have one. "Where's yours?"

Over his shoulder, I saw Wanda and Pietro taking a seat at their lunch table, doughnuts in hand and a heartwarming smile on Wanda's lips.

"They ran out," I answered Y/BF/N. "Wasn't in the mood anyway. Enjoy."

He shrugged before digging in. I'd like to say I didn't spare glances in Wanda's direction every now and then for the rest of the lunch hour, but I'd be lying if I did.

—

I'm in the art department. You okay to bring it here?

I read over the text Wanda sent me before shooting her an 'okay' and heading to the Art department. I'd grabbed her notebook in class earlier on, only realising as I was studying with Y/BF/N in the library and pulled out an extra one, so I was going to give it her back.

I guess, when you realise you like someone, it comes randomly, suddenly, without warning. Liking someone isn't instant, it's constant and gradual and subconscious. I guess I'd been falling for Wanda for a while, without even realising, but today was the day I acknowledged that fact.

The Art department wasn't somewhere I frequented regularly – give me a paint and brushes and I'd probably present you with a finger painting – but it was definitely worth the visit. Art pieces from current and past students were hung on the walls, a mural of the school was spray painted on another, and sculptures stood around. The whole department brought a smile to anyone's face with its bright colours and open space – I could see why Art students always hung out here, Wanda included.

Speaking of Wanda, I found her in one of the classrooms sat at a stool in front of a series of canvasses. The room had a few other Art students littered around, working on their own pieces during their lunch period, otherwise it was empty.

"Hey," I called, getting her attention as I approached her.

She followed my voice and straightened up with a cheery smile. "Y/N, hey. Thanks for coming. I'm working on my Art project, so I couldn't pull myself away."

I waved my hand dismissively, joining her side. "It's all good, don't worry." My eyes wandered to the series of canvases on easels she was working on and widened. "Holy shit, these are so good."

Three unfinished hyperrealistic portraits of people were before us, one whom I recognised as Pietro. The paintings were so detailed, despite their medium-size, and I couldn't imagine how long they must have taken.

"You think?" she asked, glancing between them. "I think I messed up the nose here." She pointed with the back end of her paintbrush to the nose of Pietro. "It's a bit bent."

I almost laughed as I looked to her with disbelief. "Are you kidding? Wanda, these are amazing. How did you even do this?"

She looked down bashfully, a nervous smile on her lips. "I don't know. It's for a project. I chose to do family portraits." She pointed to each one as she said, "My mum, my dad and my brother."

I was in awe of her talent, jaw dropped with amazement still. I always knew she was an artist, but I'd never actually seen her work. I was starting to wish I'd come here a lot sooner.

"So, you got my notebook?" she asked, pulling me back into reality.

I looked away from the paintings reluctantly before getting her notebook from my bag and holding it out for her. As she accepted it, she must have forgotten she was holding her paintbrush as the tip brushed my wrist, leaving a swipe of red there.

"Oh, my bad," she said with a laugh, before setting her notebook and brush down and grabbing a paper towel from beside her.

Wetting it with water from her bottle, she pressed it to my wrist and swiped the paint away. It was such a mundane action, but the way her fingers gently held my wrist and emanated a warmth only she seemed to carry sent shivers down my spine.

I glanced up at her, letting her do it, and noticed the swipe of paint she had across her cheek, as if she'd touched her face without realising.

Now that I paid attention, I noticed how cute she looked in her Art getup. An old, oversized shirt covered in paint was being worn to cover her clothes, sleeves loosely rolled up to her elbows. Her long hair was tied back into a ponytail, but her baby hairs framed her forehead adorably.

When her hair wasn't in her face, her eyes only seemed more intense, glistening with excitement and happiness. I almost forgot to breathe when they met mine briefly, a hint of embarrassment there from when cleaning me up. She was in her element here and it made sense to me now.

I knew I'd fallen for her.

—

"You don't get it," I was saying to Y/BF/N as we hung about the school gym, waiting for the teacher to start the lesson. "It's bad. I like her. Like, like like her."

Y/BF/N laughed, clapping me on the back with pity. "You're screwed."

I frowned. "I know."

As he stretched for class, he continued, "I mean, I get it, I do. She's super nice. Pretty. And you guys seem to get on."

I chewed on my lower lip worriedly.

He gave me a knowing look. "There's one problem though."

I groaned, running a hand down my face. "I know, I know. She's got that dick of a boyfriend."

He chuckled. "That's one way to put it."

I sighed, crossing my arms with annoyance. Since realising I liked Wanda as a little more than a friend, things weren't going well for me. Whenever we worked together, I'd forget what I was thinking because I was too busy admiring her side profile or getting lost in her eyes. If she spoke about the work, told a joke or was simply speaking her thoughts aloud, I'd focus on every little thing she was saying, knowing I could listen to her speak all day. It was bad, but thankfully I hadn't stumbled over my words or made a total fool of myself in front of her. I was determined to not let it get that far.

My eyes wandered around the gym as Y/BF/N tried to give me advice, but admittedly, his words flew in one ear and out the other when I caught sight of Wanda.

She was standing with her friends, smiling and laughing to whatever they were saying. Like everyone else in here, she was wearing her gym kit – black athletic shorts and a blue and white tee shirt, the colour of our school. It wasn't anything special, yet she made it seem that way, outdoing anyone in here. Her brown hair was tied back, the ponytail falling down her back, showing her stunning profile and making my mouth go dry.

Another clap on the back from Y/BF/N pulled me from my reverie and I looked to see he was laughing at me.

"Majorly screwed," he corrected his previous comment.

He was definitely right.

[lostinthewiind]

Piss Off Your Parents - Part 5

Ukai Keishin - Haikyuu

Synopsis: freshly turned 18, you want to prove to your parents that you aren’t a child for them to push around anymore. First, get a job at the local corner store. Second, use the store owner’s 26-year-old son with piercings and a cigarette addiction to piss your parents off. Third, accidentally fall in love.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: arguing with parents, stereotyping?, reader's parents just being generally horrible people, angst

Song → 18 by Anarbor

Previous → Part 4

Next → Part 6

"This is a horrible idea," you whispered to yourself as you got ready in your bedroom mirror, unable to concentrate for more than five minutes without a small panic attack taking over.

Your eyes flicked over to your clock every few seconds. Keishin was due to arrive at your family house for dinner in about thirty minutes and with every minute that passed, you asked yourself over and over again why you ever agreed to this.

Originally, when your parents had insisted on meeting your 'boyfriend' over a family dinner, your heart had dropped into the pit of your stomach; it was the worst feeling you had ever experienced . . . until you told Keishin about it jokingly and he actually agreed. Never before had you felt so sick to your stomach. Dinner was the last thing you wanted, and to make it worse, it was going to be dinner with your parents and fake boyfriend.

Shit.

More than once you had contemplated pretending to be sick or throwing yourself down the stairs, but you just couldn't go through with it. Every time you got close to backing out, a small part of your brain reminded you that this dinner might be the thing that changed your parents mind, and even though the odds of that actually happening were close to none, you couldn't give up without even trying.

So, with knots in your stomach and your palms sweating like never before, you continued getting ready for the evening and prayed that everything went as smoothly as possible.

If only you had known then that it would take much more than a prayer to save this evening.

When you heard the doorbell ring approximately thirty minutes later, your whole body froze and the thought of jumping out your second story window was starting to sound really appealing. But then, you remembered that it would be way worse if your mom or dad answered the door before you could so you rushed out of your room and down the stairs.

"I've got the door!" you shouted throughout the house, almost as if you were marking the front door as your territory and trying to scare anyone else away from it.

Standing in front of the door, you drew in a few deep, calming breaths before plastering a forced smile across your face and pulling the door open. Let the night of hell begin.

As soon as your eyes settled on Keishin, your smile faltered and you gasped. His dyed blonde hair was slicked back like usual, but instead of a headband, it was clear he had used gel. He had every hole in his ear stuffed with a black earring, and to top things off, he had showed up in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

"What?" Keishin took a step back and examined his outfit. "You said to go all out. I did."

"I know, I know . . . I just . . ." You took a moment to compose yourself. "I didn't even know you owned a leather jacket."

"Yeah, well, you don't know everything about me," Keishin smirked devilishly, proud that he still had a few secrets to himself. "Well, are you going to let me in? I kind of want to get this dinner over with."

Opening the door wider, you stepped to the side and let Keishin inside your house. "You and me both," you agreed. "You sure you want to do this? We could both make a run for it right now if we act fast."

Shrugging the jacket off of his shoulders, Keishin shook his head. "Come on, at least give your parents a chance to change their minds."

Just then, your father's heavy footsteps could be heard exiting the kitchen and approaching the front door where you and Keishin stood together. Swallowing hard, you wiped the sweat from your palms on your clothes and sent one last pleading thought up to the heavens above, hoping that if there was a great being up there, they could be on your side tonight.

This was it. No turning back now.

"If your boyfriend has arrived, Y/N, please don't keep your mother and I waiting. Introduce us." Your father rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks when he set eyes on Keishin. Sure, you had told your parents all about your 'boyfriend', which was why they had insisted on this dinner in the first place, but Keishin was a man that words couldn't quite capture. "Oh. Hello." Your father reluctantly held out his hand to greet Keishin.

"Hello, sir." Keishin shook your father's hand without hesitation. "I'm Ukai Keishin. Keishin is fine though."

Seconds later, your mother joined the three of you. She had a similar reaction as your father had and was not subtle about it in the least. "So this is the man you've been seeing?" Your mother gave you an almost pleading look, like she was silently begging you to come clean and admit that you were joking.

Right off of the bat, things were not going well.

"Well, let me take your jacket and hang it up in the closet." Your mother stepped toward Keishin with the fakest smile you had ever seen on her face.

"Oh, there's no need." Keishin hung his jacket on the banister of the stairs. "I'll just end up taking it out in a little while anyway when I go out for a smoke. It's easier this way, but thank you."

You watched your mother's eye twitch and the smile she had forced threaten to crack. "You smoke?" You could tell that both of your parents were on the brink of snapping right then and there, but they had promised to actually get to know Keishin, and despite all the horrible things your parents did, breaking promises was not one of them.

"I do." Keishin grinned. "I know, I know, it's not good for me. Y/N tells me to quit all the time so I'm trying."

You let out a nervous chuckle as both your parents turned to face you. "Shall we head into the living room?" You started ushering everyone into the other room, hoping to change the subject as quickly as possible.

"Yes, let's have a seat." Your father nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Keishin, watching him like a hawk. "Can I get you anything to drink, Keishin?"

"Just a water is fine, thanks." Keishin had obviously decided not to push his luck too hard because you had been fully expecting him to ask for a beer.

With that, both your mother and father disappeared into the kitchen; your mother to finish dinner and your father to collect the drinks.

Taking the brief moment of reprieve to breathe, you looked up at Keishin. "I've never seen my parents struggle between their flawless hospitality and kicking someone out of their house so much in my life," you chuckled lightly.

"I'm a bit of a shock." Keishin placed his hand on your lower back and led you toward the couch. "I brought out all the stops in the beginning so they could have the whole night to get used to me."

"How kind of you." You sat down, slightly caught off guard when Keishin sat down right next to you and slung his arm over your shoulders. You were about to ask him what he was doing, but then you remembered that the two of you were supposed to be an actual couple and this is what couples did.

As soon as you felt his touch on you, however, your mind flashed back to that night in the park a few weeks ago. Since then, neither one of you had spoken about what had happened on that bench; a wordless agreement between the two of you that you would just move on and pretend it didn't happen.

But as much as you pretended to forget, you never actually could. The feeling of Keishin's hands on your sides and his warm breath on your lips kept you up at night. As much as you tried not to think of him like that, you just couldn't help yourself.

"You seem really nervous," Keishin leaned closer to you a whispered. "You okay?"

Snapping out of your thoughts, you nodded quickly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm fine. Just trying not to freak out is all."

"Hey." Keishin tilted your head toward him so he could look you in your eyes. "You're their daughter. No matter what happens, they will always love you. Remember that."

You flashed a smile. Somehow, Keishin knew exactly what to say to help you relax. "Yeah . . . thanks."

Just then, your father returned with two glasses of water in hand. Handing one each to you and Keishin, you didn't miss the way his gaze settled on the sight of Keishin's arm around you.

"Thank you." Keishin grabbed his glass right away and took a sip. You, on the other hand, let your glass sit on the coaster on the table. Despite how dry your mouth was, you didn't trust your shaky hands to pick up the glass.

"Dinner should be ready soon," your father said as he sat down in his armchair across from you and Keishin. "So, Keishin, tell me about yourself. What do you do for a living?"

"Well, currently, I spend most of my time coaching the boys' volleyball team at Karasuno high school," Keishin answered, his eyes lighting up a little when he spoke about the team he coached; you could tell he really enjoyed it. "And my family owns Sakanoshita Market and I work there sometimes."

"Sakanoshita Market," your father repeated. "That sounds familiar."

You rolled your eyes, not surprised in the slightest that your father had forgotten the name of the place you had been working at for the past few months. "That's where I work, Dad," you told him. "That's how Keishin and I met."

"I see." Your father eyed Keishin and you were surprised that Keishin didn't shrink under the cold, hard gaze like you usually did. "So do you go after all the young women who work at your family store or just my daughter?"

"Dad!" you gasped, unsure whether to tell him off or apologize to Keishin on behalf of your father.

"It's okay," Keishin told you calmly before answering your father's question. "Actually, the store hasn't seen a new employee in years. For the longest time, it was just my mother and me. We are both very grateful for all the hard work Y/N puts in to help us with the store. She is a wonderful employee."

You couldn't help the blush that tinted your cheeks at the compliment. "Thanks."

"No need to thank me. It's the truth," Keishin said before leaning in and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. "And good thing you took the job too, or else we would have never met."

Keishin then shot a sparkling grin your father's way, completely blinding him and distracting him from the shocked expression on your face. You knew you told Keishin to act like the two of you were really a couple, but you never expected him to play the part so thoroughly.

Your father opened his mouth to no doubt interrogate Keishin some more, but before he could, your mother began setting the table and announced that dinner was ready.

Moving over to the table, you took a seat across from Keishin while your parents sat at the ends of the table. As your mother brought the dishes of food over, you took the chance to drink some water and parch your dry throat.

The thought of having to keep this awkward conversation up gave you a headache, but thankfully, Keishin seemed to be handling everything quite well. Just as you had expected, he took everything with a grain of salt and refused to let your parents get under his skin.

You wished you were able to do that.

After the four of you bowed your heads and said thank you for the food, you dug in. At first, everyone was too busy eating to say anything. Somehow, the silence was worse than when your dad had been firing off questions rapid fire.

"This is delicious," Keishin was the first to speak. "Thank you again for inviting me for dinner."

"Yes, o-of course," your mother wavered a little but somehow managed to voice her fake pleasure nonetheless. "Y/N has never dated anyone before so we were curious as to what kind of . . . person . . . had caught her eye."

Keishin nodded, letting the not-so-subtle rude comment roll right off his back. "Well, here I am."

"Yes, here you are indeed," your father muttered under his breath. Thankfully, it didn't seem as though Keishin had heard it, but you certainly had. "So, you said you coach high school volleyball. Is this a long-term thing or?"

Keishin thought for a moment before shrugging. "I'm not sure, honestly. I do enjoy it but I've never given much thought as to if I want to do it long-term. I started coaching because of special circumstances and just haven't stopped yet."

"Well, plenty of people coach and teach," your mother said. "You seem to enjoy working with kids, so have you ever considered becoming a teacher?"

"That doesn't sound like the worst job, but that would require me to have a teaching degree, which I don't have," Keishin responded.

"What degree did you get in university?"

Keishin chuckled. "I didn't go to university."

Oh God. Your jaw dropped and you wished that a black hole could just open up underneath you and suck you in. Out of all the things your parents hated most, people who didn't go to university were at the top of the list. They always told you that 'people who didn't go to university had no interest in investing in their future.'

Hence why they always pushed so hard for you to go the university they wanted so you could study what they thought would be best for you.

You watched your mother's face go red as she reached for her glass of wine a take a particularly large sip. "Community college, then?" she squeaked out.

"Nope, afraid not," Keishin answered, completely unashamed and even proud. "I started working for the family store right after high school."

The looks on your parents' faces that they didn't even try to hide filled you with a deep sense of shame. You didn't know how they could be so blatantly rude to someone they barely knew . . . well, actually, you did know, and that was the worst part. As much as you wished you could deny it, you had thought the same things about Keishin when you had first met him.

Hanging your head in shame, you let the suffocating silence of the dining room take over.

Feeling something brush against your leg, you looked up to see Keishin smiling at you from across the table. 'It's okay' he mouthed to you. You thought back to the time Keishin had told you he was a big boy who could take a little verbal ribbing and exhaled through your nose sharply, your mood lifting ever-so-slightly.

Keishin brushed his foot against your leg a few more times to remind you that you weren't alone at this dinner before he attempted to restart the conversation. "So what do you two do for a living?" he asked, looking to your parents.

"We are both lawyers," your father said.

You nodded and sighed. "Hence why they want me to go to law school."

"Oh, honestly, Y/N, you say that like paying for you to go to law school is abuse." Your mother shook her head disapprovingly. "Do you know how many children would kill for the opportunities you have been given and yet you want to throw them away just like that? You should be grateful."

You were about to retort but stopped yourself before you did, knowing that it would only serve to start the same argument that you had lost over and over again. No matter what you said on the matter, your parents refused to try and see things from your perspective.

It never once occurred to them that you might actually not want to be a lawyer.

"Tell me, Keishin, if you had a child who you could pay for to go to law school and they told you they wanted to pursue their dream of playing soccer, what would you do?" Your father turned to Keishin, suddenly interested in what he had to say on the issue.

"Dad, let's not talk about that now," you spoke softly, hoping to get him to change the subject.

"No, no, let's hear what Keishin has to say." Your father insisted.

Keishin thought for a moment before answering. "Well, I think I would just want my child to be happy," he said, his eyes leaving your father to look at you. "I made the mistake of not following my dreams after high school and I regret it every day, so I would tell my child to follow their dreams and try my hardest to be there to support them."

You smiled wide, surprised by how emotional Keishin's words made you feel. For a moment, it was just you and him, and he was saying everything you had ever wanted to hear. All you ever wanted for was someone to be in your corner . . . someone to support you whether your choice was a mistake or not.

"Congratulations, Y/N, you've found a dreamer just like yourself," your father scoffed, breaking you out of your happy trance. "Too bad dreams don't pay the bills."

"Well, when your future is working at a family-run corner store, dreams are all you have," your mother cackled, not even trying to be quiet about it.

Your father laughed as well. "Too true, honey."

"Mom!" you shouted at her, your anger taking over before you even had the chance to think about your actions.

"It's okay," Keishin told you again, reaching across the table for your hand.

You shook your head and tugged your hand out of his reach. "No, it's not okay!" You rose to your feet, finally having had enough. "This dinner was a terrible idea. I cannot believe you!"

"If you've finally come to your senses, darling, we can send Keishin on his way and-" your mother reached for you as well but you shrugged her off.

"I'm not talking about Keishin! I'm talking about the two of you!" You slammed your hands down onto the table, shaking the dishes of food. "The whole night you have been making offhanded remarks and rude comments about Keishin while he has been nothing but the perfect guest. I'm sorry, Keishin, but I can't sit here and let you take their abuse anymore. I've dealt with it my whole life and I won't let them do the same thing to you. You don't deserve that."

"Y/N, you're being a bit dramatic, don't you think?" your father asked, sipping his wine as if nothing was happening, which only made you angrier.

"No, father, I don't think so," you snapped back. "I think that you and Mom are being horrible and I cannot believe that this is how you're acting when meeting someone for the first time. What makes you think that you have the right to treat someone so poorly just because they don't live the same life or have the same ideals as you? You think you know what is best for me but you don't even know me, so how could you?! I would rather work at the corner store for the rest of my life if it meant being genuinely happy over being a snobby, emotionless lawyer any day."

While you vented in front of your parents, Keishin just stared at you wide-eyed, completely floored by how quickly your demeanor had changed from shy and uncomfortable to enraged and animated in mere seconds. The last time he had seen you like this was when you were going off on him and he was grateful your rage wasn't directed at him this time.

Aside from relieved, Keishin felt proud; proud of you for standing your ground.

An embarrassed look flashed across your mother's face. "Y/N, please-"

"No, just don't," you lowered your voice and took a few deep breaths. "I can't do this anymore. I can't keep pretending that I'm going to put up with your plans for me just so I can have a roof over my head. Mom, Dad, I'm not going to law school. I'm not letting you dictate my life anymore. I'm done."

Stepping away from the table, completely emotionally drained, you looked over your shoulder at Keishin. "Come on, let's go." You waved for him to follow.

Without a word, Keishin stood from the table and followed you to the front door where the two of you grabbed your jackets and got ready to leave.

"If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back!" You heard your father call after you as you left the house, but his threat didn't phase you in the least. If anything, never having to return to that house sounded like bliss right then.

Wrapping your jacket tight around your body to fight the cool evening wind, you sighed. "I'm sorry about that," you told Keishin as he walked silently beside you. "I should never have dragged you into my mess. You don't deserve to be treated the way my parents treated you."

"You don't need to apologize." He wrapped his arm around you once more and held you close, both to comfort you and to keep you warm. "I'm just worried about you. Are you okay?"

You felt tears begin to well in your eyes and frantically wiped them away. "I . . . I don't know," you answered truthfully. "I suppose I should just worry about one thing at a time, and since I've apparently got nowhere to spend the night now . . ."

"You'll spend the night at my place," Keishin stated plainly, not even bothering to ask if you wanted to or not. It was more like an order, but right then, you had nothing against him making decisions for you. As long as the choices weren't made by your parents, you didn't care who they came from.

"Okay," you exhaled. "Thank you."

As the two of you walked through the quiet night in the direction of the store, Keishin pulled a cigarette out of his pocket and lit it. Without thinking, you wrapped your arm around his waist and leaned into him, the warmth he radiated bringing you some semblance of peace.

"I'm sorry tonight went so shit," Keishin spoke as he exhaled, smoke spilling from his lips.

"It's not your fault," you told him. "In fact . . . I don't think tonight could have gone any better. In the end, this is how it was always going to turn out. It's better I realize that sooner rather than later."

Keishin stopped and looked down at you. "That's not-"

"It's okay," you said those two magic words this time. "You remember when you told me that no matter what happened they would always love me because I'm their daughter?"

Keishin nodded.

"I wish you could have been right."

[variousqueerthings]

okay now I'm like... headcanons for trans!daniel training with terry... I haven't really gotten deeply into these thoughts yet, so... very vague for now... most of it starts out with some thoughts I'm having generally about 80s terry and transness (which is different to 2000s terry and transness I think, purely because of the ease of accessing information)

some content warnings for what silverrusso would be like if daniel was also trans, just mainly that like... I mean terry's, you know. terry. he's always gonna be a bit weird about how he approaches stuff -- surprisingly not as dark as you might think based off of that?

nothing graphic

but also cw for thoughts along these lines: transphobia in the forms of fetishism, objectification, and invasive questioning, mentions of different kinds of surgery, brief mentions of possible violence

1. in this scenario Terry finds out that Daniel is trans

2. terry -- perhaps surprisingly, unless you know him a bit better -- knows more about trans people than most.

3. he's been with trans sex workers and he's hyper-fascinated in trans bodies, in a way that he thinks is fine, because what he thinks he's doing is relating

the idea of creating your own body is his whole Thing. It's what he did after the war. Ownership over your own life. Creating something beautiful. Godlike. Metamorphosis.

4. it's fetishistic -- he likes touching bodies that are trans, studying them, analysing them. He's even paid for a few bottom surgeries and facial hair removal procedures, cosmetic surgeries, and implants (lips, jaws, around the eyes, breasts, butts) and oestrogen, curious to document the changes. He didn't build himself this way, and yet... it feels familiar

it's also complicated in the sense that Terry usually considers himself gay. He's had sex with cis women, but mostly only because it's expected (he's even been into sex with some cis women but they don't keep him interested for long), and he's had sex with trans women who consider themselves post-op, but in his head there's a part of him that thinks they're somewhere else in terms of classification -- they're women, but they used to be men, and that's much better than other women

5. curiously he hasn't come across many trans men before, or at least, not consciously. the spaces that trans men tend to exist in aren't quite the same as Silver's hunting grounds for the most part.

they're not as much in gay spaces, (often they begin in lesbian bars and Terry isn't interested (or wanted)) nor does Terry clock them when he's out looking to pick up a trans woman, because he's not looking for those bodies

twice though, when he was cruising in gay bars and picked up a boy, he realized that this was different. this was special. They were boys on T who were stealth. He could tell that first time that there was fear for a few seconds, when he told him -- waiting for his reaction.

(he's gotta admire the balls (metaphorically) of these people going places with men like him, the women and the men. It's not like he couldn't hurt them real badly if he wanted to... and that power is hot too)

6. it was special. With those boys. Special in ways he could never really figure out. He got rid of 'em quickly, like they were more dangerous than anything else he'd done.... so it was only those two. One by accident, one on purpose

7. and Daniel.

almost

8. at first he was just gonna destroy the kid. Then he saw him

9. he didn't know that Daniel was trans, then

10. god, he was beautiful. He blushed easily, tanned easily, bounced when he walked, looked wary at first, but trusted much, much to easily

he fell in love with Silver -- he had a good eye for that sort of thing, and Daniel was never subtle. He'd sensed there was something he was holding back and figured it was that Daniel had probably never told anyone that he liked men before. Never kissed a man before

(Terry had never been anyone's first since John -- certainly not since he built this body for himself)

11. and then... Daniel apologized, practically ran out of the dojo, and while Terry wasn't gonna lie and say he hadn't been hoping for an evening of something more, he knew he just had to take it slow. He was his first. That was all this was. Jitters

12. meanwhile Daniel was spiraling because this was different to Ali or Kumiko. Sure, there was danger there, they could've rejected him, hell, they could've (but he never thought that of them) told everyone if they'd wanted to, but this... it was much, much more terrifying

he couldn't say what about it, exactly. Yeah, Silver was a man and his experience with men in the last year had usually been beatings and death matches, and if he thought about it (which he didn't, because he was sheltered from that) there might have been some kind of fear that Silver could get violent because of this, but it wasn't that...

it was just... for some reason he didn't know if he could trust him enough to tell him

which he immediately told himself was ridiculous, because if you can't trust a guy whose tongue you just had down your throat, then who can you trust? (Oh, Daniel...)

13. Daniel being Daniel (easily trusting, jump first ask questions later, bold, beautiful, brave) told him the very next time they met up, mentally steeling himself for... something

14. that never came. Because Silver (and he really oughta call him Terry at this point, but he couldn't really) was delighted. How long had he known? Who else knew? What kind of changes had he made to his body?

15. Daniel, unfortunately, was pretty young, and pretty overpowered and hey, Silver was cool with it so he owed it to answer him, right? So he did

16. much later on, Daniel can comfort himself that they never had sex. Not in the ways he'd define it, anyway. Not all the way

there was... stuff... and he knew that if he hadn't gone to cancel the lessons -- if he hadn't felt like it was too much and too fast and something was wrong about just punching some guy in the face and he was very sorry, but he was gonna have to quit, and then the other shoe had dropped -- it would've eventually happened, if Silver had kept on pretending at that moment, if it hadn't been about getting him to fight in the tournament above everything else

if Silver hadn't dropped the façade, Daniel knows he would've. He wanted to...

17. curious though, that Daniel had been prepared for Silver to tell everyone. Prepared for ridicule and expulsion from the AVT and probing questions into his highschool records and issues with his IDs and violence (the threat of violence became present all too suddenly)

and he never did

18. eventually the fear that Silver would use this against him at some unexpected moment (when he started dating Amanda, when he began to do well working in dealerships, when they opened their own, when they filed for their permanent house... every celebratory moment included a twinge of fear that gradually lessened...) disappeared, just as surely as Silver himself did

19. everything was fine

20. (Terry had done what he had to -- he was a good soldier, putting John first like that. And John had left him anyway. Which left Terry with nothing but the truth -- if he'd been a weaker kind of man, maybe he would've shared it, spilled it away like it wasn't the most precious thing, but Terry didn't like sharing beautiful things

that was one concession to himself, even after years of therapy and cutting out the bad habits, and metamorphosing yet again -- this precious thing that Danny had given him, he'd keep it for himself, as a memory

21. everything was fine)

[enjeolmii]

10 questions - p.sh

synopsis: to ask questions isn't too bad. but to end up doing something you never expected from the intention behind every question? way better!

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

word count: 2.4k

warnings: make out sesh (not written in depth), lots of teasing but it’s all playful you nasty

"Next question! Did you like anyon-"

"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing? I'm supposed to go next." Sunghoon blocks you with an audible tap on the soft mattress, tsk-ing at your smooth but not slick enough scheme to get more answers from him.

It's a Saturday - the day of the week when assignments, works, chores, and duties are temporarily thrown down the window. On these days, you and Sunghoon go on a carefree date. It's a routine you made once a week to maintain your relationship amidst the setback caused by lockdown, and it was going great.

At a time when real interactions between people became an inappropriate thing to do, and everyone turned to technology as a resolution, you made sure that everything is done by Friday, despite it being so dreading, just so that procrastinating wouldn't be a problem dragged over the next day. And when those pressuring times occur to you, you would send each other texts, exhorting to go easy on yourselves. That's why Saturdays are the only thing you wait for every week. You weigh it up as a chance to see the only light that keeps you going, the one that helps you see clearly the path you are taking in this obscure world.

So here you are with Sunghoon in your bedroom, sitting on the bed and leaning on the wall beside it, covered in your blanket as you cuddle under the warm, comfy covers. The day has been an uneventful one. If not for him reminding you of the conversation you had prior in the week, where you asked him to gather questions he had for you, you would have slept the whole day over without accomplishing anything.

"Fine, what's your eighth question?" You admit, frowning at his attentive remark, and he snickers.

He lifts his phone and scrolls through the questions he has saved in his notes. "Have you ever had a dream about me?"

Your eyes roll around with a finger on your chin, recalling the scenarios you had of him. There were many, some surrounding the time when he decided to confess to you, and most of them came from the fantasies you had of him. Those dreams scare you more than the stare of a fiery lion. It almost even feels illegal to think about it because you aren't well over twenty. Though they were just outlines of you and him kissing innocently, you always end up making out at the end of the story.

You weren't one of those twelve-year-olds who've had their first kisses already. Your mother kept a close eye on you in situations like this, so you would rather make out with your pillow than hear her nagging your ears off. Because of that, you grew up as a child unbothered by her love life, and the mere thought of kissing someone in real life makes your hair stand up. That's when you knew he brought out a lot of changes in you.

You swallow the lump of saliva in your throat. "Yeah, I have." You answer truthfully but still cautious of the words you put out.

"Really?" His head perks in your direction. "What did I do?"

You got a little nervous knowing he would undoubtedly interrogate you on this. But thankfully, you were prepared with a streamlined answer. "That's three questions, genius," You say, reaching for his head to give it a light smack, from which earns you a groan. "Save your chances for better questions."

"What do you mean? It's a good one. What did you dream about? I want to know."

"Okayy~ Next question. Where is that..." You switch the topic hastily, hands occupied with finding the question you were waiting to ask him through your notes. "Found it. Did you like anyone before me? If so, who are they?"

"That's two questions, though?"

"Nope. Not if you put them together." You smile at him cheekily, and he throws his head back in astonishment, mouth wide open, spewing out breathy wow's.

"You're playing it dirty, I see. Well, I had two other girlfriends before you." He brings his pinky finger out. "One was my sixth-grade classmate, and the other one was my best friend from the rink." He shoots his mouth off to chaff at you yet again.

A stiff frown crawls on your face as you nod at him sarcastically. "Oh, wow. Impressive." You hum in wonderment, silence unfurling in the suddenly insipid room.

Sunghoon knew you weren't easily irritated by these circumstances. If he were talking to a random girl on the street, more often than not, you would only think of them as one of his fans from the arena, nothing more. Even if he had to accomplish things with a girl in his class, you trusted him very much with your relationship to doubt him in his actions. And so, seeing you hush after a talk like this...

Of course, he would take it as a chance to play with you.

"Aww, is my precious little y/n jealous?" His voice sharpened one octave higher as he pats your head with a pout and mock sadness in his eyes. "What do I do? I kissed them, too."

You were okay with him having two other ones before you, but at the mention of a kiss, your figure skews his way. You weren't sure if he was hoaxing you or not, but to say so honestly, it troubled you. This wasn't the intention you had with your question. All you wanted to get out of it was something to tease him about when he says he has none, yet it was still you who got ragged of your own query.

However, that's beside the point. Was it necessary to point out those last words? It wasn't you to be agitated over something as dispensable as this, but of all things, why did he have to attack your weakness?

Sunghoon's sounds of laughter tear you away from your thoughts. "Got 'em~" He pulls a finger at you in another fit of laughter, seeing you in a state of total shock.

"What the heck? It was a lie?" You pull away firmly from his body, hitting him on the shoulder with force enough to make him wobble on the bed.

"You fell for it." He provokes you, head bouncing up and down in silent titters, and you smack his hand away, leaning back down on his shoulder.

"No, I didn't," You feel him nod abut your head, seeing mentally what teasing expression he has plastered on his face this time, but you only shrug it off. "Which part was the lie, though? You kissing them or being with them?"

"Can't answer that. Save your chances for better questions, cutie."

"Touché," You scoff. "What's the next question?"

"Well, since we came to the topic of kissing... When was your first kiss?" He converts his stare to a peer of glistening fervour. Though not as subtle as he would have probably wished it to be, you could sense the perceptive intent he was hiding behind his tone.

You render motionless. Never did you tell him anything about your dreams, nor would you ever have plans to tell him. It's a product of your wildest imaginations to feed your untold desires. It's what helps restrain the ungodly in you, but it also fuels you with the need to see what it actually is like. It's a continuous internal war going on in you, its purpose being to stop you from creating trouble for yourself. And now that you finally have him here, not going to lie, it's kind of embarrassing to acknowledge the profuse amount of dreams you had of him, moreover that he stole your first kiss... Except it was in your dreams, literally.

"I never had any," You answer, trying to stay as cool as possible. "I'm a good child who listens well to her mother, so don't think no one tried to hit on me once. I turned a lot of them down." A small smile trudges its way onto his face, but the way his eyes were fixated on you remained untypically the same.

"I don't know if I should be happy that you picked me out of all of them or be sad for those 'poor hearts' you broke." He draws an air quote along with his words, and you shake your head at him. "Don't worry. I won't tease you on this one. I just wanted to know." He mumbles quietly through a simper, moving to rest his head on yours.

Hearing that he'll cut you some slack relieved you, but one thing about his utterance caught you off guard. "Why do you want to know that?"

"That's the only way I'll get to know you deeper, Einstein," He retracts his head and nudges you on his shoulder, causing you to bump your head against its edge, a grunt following you. However, while you were still in the midst of justifying the whack he did on your head, he spins his vision to you in an adventitious celebration. "Oh- that's your tenth question, then!"

"Wait, hold on!" You haul over to straighten your posture, the creaking of the bed barely audible from the loudness of your opposition.

"It's my turn again." His eyes grow invisible from his cheeks, pushing it up into a smile. He just never gets tired of making fun of you. How you wish you could do the same to him. If only punching someone straight in the face denotes no wrongdoing, you would have done that ages ago.

"Bitch, why did you answer that?" You call him, blaming him with the irritation that you weren't able to control yourself.

"You ask, I answer. Isn't that how it goes?" He grins at you matter-of-factly, and you tousle your hair around in frustration.

"Ugh, you're crazy," You send glares up his way. "Whatever. Your last question, throw."

As if that was a signal he has been waiting for, Sunghoon shuts his phone and tucks it in his pocket. "How does it feel to kiss someone?"

You were confused. You just said you've never kissed anyone before.

A dry giggle leaves your mouth after much processing. You knew you shouldn't have trusted his words. No matter what you do, he'll find the cracks and holes to slip in his every jest. "I think you got the wrong person, kid. How do you think I'd know?"

"Hmm..." He drones, the ticking sound of the clock suddenly increasing in volume with every minute passing by. "Should we try it, then?" He suggests.

"What?" You were taken aback, a sudden chill sweeping through your body like a surge of cool air gashing through the enclosed room. What is he going on about?

Inch by inch, you feel him gravitate towards you, your torso backing up from his inclining frame until the warmth you caused on the cold wall completely presses against your back. Like the fire of a gun's bullet on a steady path, your heartbeat raced in a trice. His eyes stared at yours, tracing down to your parted lips as he led his other hand across your body, trailing up your arms to your shoulders, just until it reaches your jaw. Your breath hitched, lips shutting tightly as you gulp down at the presence of his queer boldness.

It's like the scenarios you formed in your head where he pins you against the wall, lips hovering yours with soft breaths that tickle your skin. Him studying your face with obstinacy to make you his, doing whatever it is that would make you happy. Nevertheless, he made sure to be cautious of things you wouldn't want him to do. He still respected you.

He's doing just the same thing, and it's getting you set on thinking whether this is all a dream taking too long to reach its climax or if your dreams are miraculously made into reality. But his next set of words were enough to tell you the clarification to your uncertainties.

"Please don't be mad." Without warning, his lips found their place on your light, pillowy ones. It felt like he was pouring out all emotions he's been holding in until now. He always controlled himself whenever you're around because he didn't want to disappoint your mother. But with this instance is a chance to do something he has long been dreaming of. He wasn't about to lose it.

The way his head tilts to the side to get a more comfortable position, eyes closing and immersed in the pleasure of your lips against his, got you clasping onto your blanket to ease the havoc he's causing in your guts. You froze at the contact. As if time had halted and the world stopped spinning, everything seemed to slow down at that moment. Maybe it was the sweet scent of his bergamot fragrance. Maybe it was the tightening of his grip on your jaw, or perhaps the longing you had for him that's enticing you in this position.

It's not every day that we get to see our dreams come true, and for one, it's a matchless feeling, especially when the dream is worthwhile. Slowly, you give in and close your eyes in the warmth of his touch. His lips parted to bite at your lower lip, and you overtly open your mouth to let him in.

"Do you think you could answer it now?" He questions you, but you couldn't comprehend what he was saying. You were too caught up in your own feelings during the whole session; you almost forgot what happened before it was done. Just when you thought he’d stop pulling out all the hidden quirks of yours, he caught you once again. And it didn't take long enough before you recollected yourself.

"Right. It's way better than I could have ever imagined." You smile at him, giving rise to the same smile as you.

"If this is how it will usually end, maybe I should start gathering more questions for you." He proposes, his head wheeling over to you with sheer excitement.

"Uh-huh... Just make sure you don't catch anything from the streets before you come over." You reply with a cackle, getting off his lap and sitting back down on the soft mattress.

It was supposed to be a dull and boring day. But with another chance that you two meet comes another something to remember forever. And you can't help but grin from ear to ear.

[moonylantsovs]

Unlikely Match [ J.M ]

summary: You found yourself stumbling into Bellamy's tent at a really inconvenient moment, experiencing your first heartbreak, never expecting John Murphy to be the one to pick up the pieces.

pairings: john murphy x griffin!reader, slight bellamy blake x griffin!reader

warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of sex

A/N: This is an au for maggie's (@slytherinbarnes) bellamy blake series called 'sub rosa'. It isn't necessary for you to read it before this but I'd recommend you to because it's amazing! Also, this was supposed to be longer but my phone deleted it the first time I wrote it so this is the rewritten version

𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

You wouldn't call this a usual day at the delinquent camp, but it was close enough. Especially after everything you experienced in the past week. From a kid jumping off a cliff in front of you and making a decision to banish one of your own, to a mechanic flying down to Earth in a pod so you could contact The Ark and to John Murphy stumbling into camp, beaten up and carrying a disease you can't remember the exact details of the situation - that was always your sister's stronger side - but you can remember it spread like wildfire and it created complete chaos in camp.

But that was what the grounders wanted. To start killing your people off one by one from the inside. And John was the key. 

You didn't blame him for it of course, he wasn't aware that the grounders made him a walking contagious disease. But he was aware he gave them information about everything he knew about your camp so yeah, you were a little pissed about that.

Not as much as Bellamy was though, if you asked him he'd let John back into the woods without the care if the grounders captured him or not. You and your twin sister - Clarke Griffin - cared though and that was the only reason he was in camp right now and not running around the woods, alone.

You remembered Bellamy's words when you told him John wouldn't be a danger to camp. 

"Fine, he can stay. But he doesn't leave this camp or get a gun. He's your responsibility. So if he does anything, it's on you."

Truth is, Bellamy didn't mean what he said. He was just pissed John was staying after everything that happened with Charlotte. He knew it and you knew it too, so you brushed off his words and went back to camp, still choosing to keep a close eye on John during the next few days.

Now, you were making your way to Bellamy's tent. You weren't sure if you were going inside to apologize for how harsh your words towards him were during your fight or if you were coming to him as one leader to another so you could set things right and make the job of leading easier.

Deep down, you knew it was the first option but you didn't want to face your true feelings for him just yet. You wanted to at least wait until the war with the grounders was over before starting anything with him.

You stepped into the tent, calling his name, only to come face to face with a scene you never wanted to see again, it made you feel both nauseous and mad. 

Raven stopped putting her shirt on and her eyes widened at the sight of your figure standing at the entrance of the tent. You quickly put your hand over your chest, blocking out Bellamy's wide, guilt-written eyes.

"Sorry--" you stammered "I-- uh some people aren't back from hunting yet, so come find me when you're . . . done."

Ignoring Bellamy calling your name, you turned around and made your way past the delinquents that were still outside their tents and to the camp gate. The two kids that were guarding the gate were Miller and Starling, knew not to question why you - one of their leaders - was going outside camp, especially after seeing you already had a gun on you, and they let you out.

You needed to clear your head, the picture of Bellamy and Raven in the same bed half-naked was tattooed in your brain and you needed to get it out before you explode. You needed Clarke. But Clarke was still out with Finn and Myles, probably lost and you needed to find her but to do that you'd have to be able to look Bellamy in the eyes and you knew you wouldn't be able to do that.

A snap of a twig made you aim your gun - which you still didn't know how to shoot properly - at the bush the noise came from.

"Relax, Princess. I'm not planning on killing you anytime soon."

You recognized the voice belonged to John Murphy and immediately dropped the gun "What the hell, Murphy?"

He cleared his throat awkwardly "I uh-- saw you run out and then I saw Raven coming out of Bellamy's tent so I kinda connected the dots."

"And you were allowed out of camp why?"

"Because Miller saw it too and got worried so he let me out." John admitted, looking at you almost sheepishly.

You nodded in understanding and looked back down. The two of you never really interacted at a time he wasn't an asshole or tried to kill someone. He was the camp's psychopath and you were the invisible Griffin twin that hid in her parent's closet.

"Why wouldn't you kill me?" you asked hesitantly "I'm one of the reasons you got banished."

He nodded, rubbing his chin slightly "Yeah but you're also the reason I'm allowed to stay here. Plus telling Bellamy you'd keep an eye on me isn't a job anyone would take."

"How do you--"

"You're not very subtle." he interrupted with a chuckle "I saw you following me around camp with your eyes too many times for me to count."

Now it was your turn to smile sheepishly "Sorry."

"It's fine." John brushed it off with a shrug before noticing the sadness in your eyes and speaking up again "Bellamy's an idiot, you know that right?"

You scoffed at his words and shook your head only for him to speak up again "Well only an idiot would choose a one night stand over Y/N Griffin."

Both of you were surprised by the sincerity in his words. John felt a sudden feeling of vulnerability shoot through his body and he didn't like it one bit so he quickly plastered on his usual cocky smirk and added "I mean if you ever want to get back at him I'm right here."

You gave him a deadpan look "In your dreams, Murphy."

I mean yeah. He thought bluntly before shaking those thoughts away and grinning "Never said you need to sleep with me, Princess. There'd be a little payback both ways by making the king jealous. Just sayin'."

"Wouldn't you like that? you chuckled teasingly.

Yes he would. Because John Murphy could never get himself to figure out why someone as smart and as beautiful as you could fall for someone like Bellamy Blake. It's not like he's any better, but it just made him dislike the male even more.

"You know he doesn't deserve you, right?" John asked after a bit of surprisingly peaceful silence.

You just shrugged at his words, nor believing a word he said. But not because he had a habit of lying every time he opened his annoyingly smartass mouth. It was because you really couldn't see it. Raven was beautiful, the smartest person in camp, if not on Earth, and everything you didn't think you were.

Why would anyone think any different?

Noticing you didn't believe his words, John sighed and gave you a small smile "Well for your information, I'd pick you over anyone else any day."

"I thought the big bad Murphy didn't need anyone."

He stared at you for a few seconds with something unrecognizable in his eye and you were about to open your mouth to ask if there was something on your face when he beat you to it "Do you even know what my real name actually is?"

You narrowed your eyes in thought before a look of realization passed over your face "Wait 'Murphy' isn't your real name?"

"No. But it's last name and I go by it. My first name is John."

Before you could stop yourself you let out a snort - some would say it was completely unattractive but John thought it was adorable - followed by a chuckle as you repeated his name in disbelief "John?"

Said bot squinted his eyes at your amused, no longer heartbroken face, and asked "What?"

You shook your head with another chuckle "I never would have pegged you for a 'John'." 

"And I never would have pegged you for a girl that falls for someone like Bellamy Blake." 

He didn't even realize what he said until he did and was about to apologize, maybe begged you not to slap him but you laughed instead and nodded in amused "Touché."

And that's how you spent the rest of the night, sitting on a log right outside of camp and talking. Sharing stories about how each of you grew up and growing closer than you thought you ever would with someone like John Murphy.

But I guess there's a first time for everything.

[simpingfortheages]

//FALL INLOVE//

Cordelia Goode x Fem Reader.

(Angst, read if you want to be sad,crying,heart break)

The reader and the Supreme goes onto the roof to relax after a long hard day. The Reader hasn't confessed their feelings to Cordelia, but she's the Supreme who happens to know everything.

~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~

The atmosphere was refreshing , the cold air filled your lungs as you inhaled deeply. It was quite satisfying,the freezing sensation that accompanied the outside, gave you a feeling of peace . A night out on the roof was always the best way to end a hard day. The night sky twinkled above you as you laid next to your Supreme on the academy's roof . She was the one and only Cordelia Goode or as you like to call her the cliche "the key to your heart". It didn't take you long to fall inlove with her. A person such as herself possessed all the qualities that anyone would die to have.

A cold wind blew which caused you to shiver involuntarily. This caught the attention of Cordelia which made her giggle," you know you can come closer y/n, i don't know why you choose to lay so far." You shifted ever so slowly next to her as she drapped the blanket she brought over you. The mild flowery scent filled your senses,it was her mark.

Cordelia was always enthralled with the way the stars winked at her, you couldn't help but stare and memorize every shape,inch and curvature of her face. She was magnificent indeed. The way that her brown eyes reflected the entire night sky, they basically held the entire universe. "Pay attention to the sky y/n otherwise you will miss the shower, you are never looking at the correct thing" she joked and delivered a shift whack onto your shoulder. A light pink blush crept its way onto your cheeks. Cordelia caught you staring, although it wasn't the first time.

Your heart never fails to swell at the sight of her, if it wasn't for the background noise of cars driving in the distance, the sound of your heartbeat could have been heard. The beat of your heart against your ribcage and the blood rushing to your head made you dizzy but at the same time too excited to faint and miss a moment like this. There was a comfortable silence that overcame the both of you. Even though she caught you staring, that didn't stop you from continuing your admiration on her side profile. "Y/N Look! it is starting" her finger pointing upwards to the sky. You broke your focus away from her and turned your attention to the night sky. It was gorgeous, the showering of the flaming balls lit up the entire sky. An subtle gasp escaped the Supreme' s lips at the sight. As you expected, her eyes shone and reflected the falling fire of the meteorites. You shifted your focus on what was really important and more beautiful. Her. As it rained rocks overhead, Cordelia turned her head away from the shower and faced you. She locked her eyes with yours, brown on y/e/c. There was a sadness that replaced her once giddy and amazed expression."Don't fall inlove y/n."

You were taken aback by her words, the feeling of a now parched throath made it difficult for you to swallow. You cracked her a painful faking that it all was fine smile as you broke eye contact with her. What a show the sky displayed, the falling of the meteorites and the burning of it all. It was almost agonisingly symbolic in this reguards, it was the same way you fell for Cordelia yet you burned in doing so. You didn't realise but tears pickled it's way down the sides of your temple. " Y/N?" She whispered with concern into the night. You didn't register anything anymore, the hurt of your heart breaking was numbing all your senses... she never felt the same. There was now a hallow feeling in your chest. It made you nauseous, the cold air was now stifling and disgusted you.

Cordelia leaned over and touched your shoulders. You jumped at her physical touch, trying to stare at her with a dazed expression. Undoubtedly it was obvious thst she was worried, her eyes that held the inshore if the stars were now filled with tears. The both of you were now sitting on the roof, however the space was between each other was bigger than before. " I'm so sorry y/n" she began, her way of trying to ease the situation made it worse. The words weren't one if comfort to you, instead it was her way of confirming the truth you dreadfully avoided . You took a deep breathe in, only for sniffling to be heard, " it's not your fault." You wiped away the tears that were furiously streaming down your face. " I'm sorry I misinterpreted our friendship" Cordelia's bottom lip began to weave, the only words she recited were " I'm sorry".

Being burnt to the stake would feel so much better right now, although nothing hurts more than the fact that your love isn't reciprocated. You couldn't stay here anymore, there's no need for you. You decided to make residence in the academy just for her. You stood up on your feet and made you way to the window to re-enter the inside . As you did so, Cordelia pulled you into a tight hug. In another time you would have picked her up and spun her around, but your arms remained at your sides. Tugging and twisting the dress you wore to try and distract yourself. Cordelia was the key to your heart, she fitted perfectly and unlocked your love. But you weren't the key to hers.

[ye4gerismarchives]

the bachelorette chp 2 final part

an: sorry for taking so long! here's the masterlist!

tags: black reader, fem coded reader, lots of drama, minor vulgar name calling

tag list: @taybird

The first thing on your mind when you woke up was Bertie's kiss. It was so unexpected but so sweet. You almost forgot about Mikasa possibly stealing a guy you didn't really know. That's how nice Bertholdt's kiss was.

This morning you were having breakfast with Mikasa and Sasha, as usual. You knew this time was going to be different, however. You got ready for the day, thinking about what to expect from today's breakfast.

"So, I heard Bertholdt came out of his shell...oooh," Connie teased. As expected, Bertholdt's face reddened. The rest of the guys turned their attention to Bertholdt, curious about what he had done. "What happened, Bertholdt?" Porco asked. He was sitting near Bertholdt, so he was leaning into the taller boy's personal space. "N-nothing," Bertholdt says, looking away.

"A little BERTIE told me that you kissed y/n," Connie continues. "Connie, you're so corny," Onyankopon says jokingly. "You kissed?" Porco is now all up in Bertholdt's face. "Now, why would you do that? We're two weeks into the competition and you're kissing?"

"Hey, Porco, calm down," Eren jumps in. "Nah, because Bertie thinks he can just jump ahead. I mean, Eren, have you gotten a chance to be with y/n?" Porco huffed.

"He's too busy making out with Mikasa, y/n's best friend, he's probably not the best person to ask," Jean jeered.

"You shouldn't say anything at all, Jean. She has you wrapped around her finger. You're her pet dog," Eren snapped back.

"Isn't that the whole point? We're all supposed to give y/n our attention and seem interested in her," Armin jumps in.

His response shocks everyone the most. "So...you're not genuinely here for her?" Connie asked. His funny demeanor drops. "No...I need the money for medical school," Armin admits. "Nothing about y/n impresses me."

"Let's read what people are saying online!"

Levi had let you, Sasha, and Mikasa know that people had a lot to say about the show so far. He gifted you all a phone to take a look at during breakfast.

"Ok...so this first one is about Jean," Sasha starts. " 'Jean likes money...hence why he's here. He also has a short attention span in relationships."

"That...that doesn't sound like Jean..." you say. Unless?? Jean was a nice guy...a "nice guy". You couldn't believe it was all an act. He seemed like a sweet guy but that could also be a façade. "Ok...that one makes my brain hurt. Next please!"

Sasha passes the phone to Mikasa, who doesn't seem like she was there. "Mikasa, the phone," you point out. She jumps slightly, which is very not Mikasa-like. "Sorry," she says softly before taking the phone. You want to ask her what's up but, one, you have your own assumptions and, two, you didn't want something new to blow up in your face.

"Levi and Mikasa are planning on going against y/n. Their uncle/niece relationship says a lot. Mikasa needs to hop off the guys and let y/n have her moment."

Now, that one you could believe. Maybe not the part about Levi (he didn't seem to care) but you did feel that Mikasa was trying to interfere. You did laugh with her about her attraction to Jean and Eren but you couldn't help but consider that she could be plotting against you. The only role Levi would have in this is green-lighting her attempts. His job was to guide you and keep the drama going. He would have alerted you that something big was going to happen.

"That's kinda silly. You and Levi wouldn't pull something like that, right?" you nervously ask. Mikasa is quick to look you in the eye. "No, I wouldn't try that."

'No, I wouldn't try that.'

"Thanks for calming my suspicions," you reply. Mikasa's eyes widened. "What are you getting-"

"Can you hand me the phone, Mikasa?"

Mikasa moves her arm across Sasha and forces it in your direction. You've clearly hit a nerve. You snatch the device from her. "Thanks."

You read the next opinion. "'I'm on the edge about Jean and Eren'."

This was the second message about Jean and you couldn't help but be concerned. You would need to have a one on one conversation with him to make sure his intentions are right.

You weren't too surprised about the comment about Eren. However, You wanted to talk to him too.

"Well, Mikasa, it was nice seeing you. I'm sure you had a lot of fun last night. Get some more rest while Sasha and I go out. Alright?" you finally say.

Mikasa doesn't meet your eye.

(pick your fit!)

You hoped that this date would clear your mind and even give you some people to eliminate. You were excited about this date. You were going skating. It'd be more interactive and you wouldn't have to rely on subtle messages.

You and Sasha entered the same room where you met your previous dates. Today, you had Onyankopon, Armin, Nicolo, and Porco.

To your surprise, the energy in the room seemed off too. "Hi, y/n!" Onyankopon said cheerfully. There was a shaky feeling in his voice. Almost like he was nervous. Onyankopon was never nervous around you. He could easily walk up to you and you would converse for hours.

"Hey guys," you soon reply. Armin doesn't seem interested at all, Nicolo looks like he's in space, and Porco has an angry look in his eyes and can barely meet yours.

Suddenly, you don't even want to go on this date.

"Hey, what's going on? Why are you guys so...gloomy?" you ask. Porco finally looks up. "You know what's wrong? We're competing for a whore."

You felt like someone had just pulled your lungs on your chest. Did he just call you a whore?

"Hey!" Onyankopon barked. "You don't call her that!" You were taken back by Onyankopon coming to your defense. You had never seen him like this.

"Honestly, I'm so disappointed. I can't believe I have to go on a date with you guys! You're so ignorant. Armin, honestly, I can't believe you. You don't even want y/n. You're here to pay your bills off. And Nicolo? Why are you even here? We don't even see you around. And Porco, I don't even have to say anything to you. I think we all know what type of person you are."

The room remained silent for a moment. Your eyes began to water. You were overwhelmed. "I-I'm sorry. I need to step out." You turn on your foot and ignore Sasha's pleas to come back.

It was only the second week and there was so much going on. You understood that drama was key but this was too damn much.

"Oof-."

"Oh! I'm sorry- are you crying?"

You had bumped into someone. When you see who it is, your eyes widen. "Eren...what...no." You place your hands on your cheeks. You were crying. "Aren't you supposed to be on a date? Who made you cry?" Eren's tone became more hostile. You never thought you'd see him like this. "Eren, don't worry about it. I'm fine," you reassure him. Before Eren can open his mouth, you walk around him. You really wanted to find Levi. You knew who you wanted to eliminate.

Today's elimination was different. You were doing this out of anger. Eliminations were being held outside, where a limo was waiting to pick the next three guys up. You were also running elimination. Levi was just tap dancing in the back because yay drama.

"I'm so disappointed," you start. Only a few of the guys could make eye contact with you. "First, I wake up suspecting that one of you is in love with one of my friends.

Eren squirms slightly.

"And two guys aren't even interested in me. One of them is here to 'pay their bills' and the other is doing god knows what.

You look at Porco.

"Finally, I learn that I'm a whore apparently. Thank you, Porco, I'm so glad that you said what you said. You made eliminations very easy. We didn't even have to go on a date. Get your stuff and get out. The same goes for you too, Armin and Nicolo."

The boys don't even turn their heads to look at the three mentioned. Armin, Nicolo, and Porco go inside to grab their stuff. They don't look at anyone either.

"Don't even ask me about the roses. None of y'all are getting anything. None of you are getting the last laugh. Do better," you say before following your recently eliminated inside.

(SPACER I MET THE LIMIT)

CONFESSTIONALS

connie: i had such a great time with y/n. it's such a shame that a few of us pissed her off today.

bertholdt: i regret kissing y/n now. there's nothing wrong with her but see how much drama a kiss caused? i don't even know how connie found out.

armin: i do have my regrets. i didn't know that y/n was going to get that mad.

nicolo: no comment.

porco: oh no, stay out of my business. i'm not answering any questions.

(SPACER)

yeah, that was a lot. anyways, here's the elimination link. i’ll see y'all when I see y'all :)

[undergrounddweller89]

(look you don't have to like this, I'm not expecting anyone to, I just needed to write and if there's the possibility that even one person was hoping I'd write more and enjoys it then that's cool, just don't be a dick about it, it's more house mate au stuff, don't hope for continuity by that I mean it's just all over the place and nothing makes sense , just expect what ever came to my head at the time lol)

Walter was sat at his work table, fiddling with one of his new devices working on to perfect it, no I can't think of anything specific so I'll let you fill in that with your imagination.

The day had been long, his lab assistant Timothy Lawrence (Yea that Timothy if you know him because reasons) had been pretty quiet but done as told so at least that made it easier.

He was tired as the day had gone on his mood had sunk, what was he doing teasing Killian like that, honestly spanking him with the hair brush, he knew some of the things Killian had been up to.

But it was more likely a sign of marking territory or just because he had needs right and it was exciting to do things where you shouldn't.

The blade he was handling slipped and ran across the pad of his index finger, he hissed in pain, seeing the blood smear under the blue latex, pooling to drip, focusing on the red colour he hadn't even noticed Timothy running to fetch the first aid kit.

Pulling his gloves off he discarded them and popped open the box that had been set on the table.

"Thanks Timmy."

Walter smiled a little as he tended to his finger, he hated how the skin felt parting every time he flexed his finger.

Cleaning up and applying what was needed, thankful it wouldn't need stitches.

He wondered what Killian was up to, watching TV, reading maybe, did he eat, did he have enough to drink, was he in a depressive mood, was he mad that hed spanked him, he really should send a message.

Pulling his phone from his lab pocket he texted him.

'Hope you're day has been good, hope you're well, sorry if I upset you this morning.'

He shifted and rubbed a shoulder, he didn't realise how stiff his back had gone, being in charge of a division meant he'd somewhat lost track of self care making sure to do his stretches.

Timothy stood here watching his boss, lot better than the last one, this one was kind and genuine, always looking out for people, honestly Beckett made him feel safe and relaxed, he wasn't looking for anything serious but even he could see that furrowed bow and the lean that spelt hey I'm exhausted let me die.

Walking around and behind him he slowly massaged his shoulders, they were small and rather petite for someone Walter's age but it was more lean muscle and just body build, he just hadn't seen many men like Walter where he'd come from, he was rather pretty.

Walter had considered telling him to stop but when his fingers pressed into that one perfect spot in his shoulder blades he melted, ooooh that just felt so damn good and shit when was the last time he'd had contact, had someone be closer to him...he liked Killian...wondered if they could be more, but he didn't believe for one second that they could be lovers or bed fellows for one moment...not that he wouldn't be interested in finding out but Killian had been there a month, like he wasn't going to make him uncomfortable and feel like that the only way he could stay was if he dated him.

(I keep forgetting times or how many days set shrugs just don't expect like decent continuity, I write these because I need to just write things and moments)

Walter leaned forward arms folded and face buried in them

"Sorry sir, am I doing that badly?"

Timothy's enquired nervously, his hands going still.

"No, please don't stop, I literally didn't realise how stiff I was, you have good hands, I'm just so tired Timothy, I could really use it if you don't mind that is."

"Not at all sir."

Tim smiled happy to know he was helping, yes much nicer than his last boss, Walter was smart but he was also fragile, like him he loved his mother and when he'd heard Walters mother had died when he was small he wanted to scoop him up and just hug him.

A talk with Lance at one point and he'd learned that was a natural reaction for anyone with a heart around Walter who didn't have their head up their ass.

Which had practically been the last tech department Beckett had worked in, that totally wasn't cool that they'd done that to such a brilliant mind, it was so much fun working on items that didn't kill people and actually helped them!

Walter was imagining the fingers loosening the knots in his back were Killian, wondered what that would feel like with those pretty metal claws, but he never forgot it was Timothy, after all Timothy deserved more respect than that.

Looking over his shoulder at him, auburn hair flopping off to one side, Tim's hands on his waist he noticed the subtle blush.

"You wanna go grab some dinner or something in a minute there's a corner café I know, makes steak sandwiches and baked potatoes with a perfect crispy skin, a warm meal sounds pretty nice don't you think?"

Tim in the angle he was in was trying not to think about how suggestive this looked, he would absolutely lean down and kiss Walter if he thought it was an option, it really was a casual thing he felt, but Walter just looked so pretty and like he needed someone to carry him right now.

Continuing to rub his back Timothy nodded

"Yeah that sounds pretty nice actually."

---

At home Killian had found plenty to do, he'd read, watched tv, all in Walters bed of course, just to feel close to him as he could, he did wonder after handling himself, if Walter could see him as anything more than a friend, someone more than a few passing jokes between the other...turning his head and taking in his scent as he buried his face into a pillow again, looking forward to seeing those blue eyes...he should really get out of Walter's bed and get the covers washed.

Beckett brought comfort to his mind after his years of suffering, the sunrise after the storm.

He'd talked to Lovey, wondering if she could understand him, she was surprisingly responsive to his rambling as he worked on his arm, updating the tech and keeping up with maintenence.

Living here with Walter and slowly working past things with Lance and seeing he had genuinely started changes of his own, it made it easier with how Walter talked about him on the job, that he considered all options before violence and discussed the situations with him...it was good to know Beckett had helped Lance to.

He was glad to know Walter's field partner was a good one, though his lab partner, this Timothy Lawrence seemed to be pretty chummy didn't he, he'd seen a picture, thick brown hair, heterochromia eyes, blue and green to be exact and a chiseled jaw, in other words a damn pretty boy and he didn't want him around Walter.

He huffed folding his arms, yes he was jealous he was going to be pouty, before his injury he had thick black hair and had been known to be a very handsome man, now he looked like he'd been put through a grinder when he took off his holo mask and this Timothy Lawrence just had to be Walter's lab partner, he'd be around him alot and-

His phone buzzed, it'd been put on the side table and he read the text that'd come through and there was another one.

'Going out to dinner with Timothy, don't know what time I'll be back, have fun you probably need a break from me anyway lol 😂'

Killian's eye twitched, he nearly threw the damn phone, but how would he explain that, honestly he couldn't, Tristan sighed, shoulders drooping a little and answered his questions

'It's been a relaxing day, did work on the arm, Lovey' s surprisingly easy to talk to, watched a little television but perhaps you could suggest something to watch, it's rather hard deciding with all these options and no Walter you didn't upset me, though you left in a hurry, you do not need to avoid me. You're not a bother. Are you alright?'

'I'm so happy you're warming up to her! That's awesome! Also it's good you have time to relax, ten years of hectic stress you're more than overdue! I...well I was more embarrassed than anything, I reacted on instinct, last boyfriend liked that well that's probably more than you needed to know, but yeah I'll help you pick something to watch see you later!'

Last boyfriend? Spanking, Walter had, he had...Killian shifted well the blankets were starting to tent, the idea of being put over Walters petite lap and being told he was a very bad man came to mind.

He liked it.

A lot.

He looked at his phone as it pinged again.

'And god damn it, make sure you eat something for dinner, don't just go picking out the cupboard!'

Killian snickered and replied

'Yes Daddy, I'll make sure to eat something.'

After sending the text he realised what he'd written and wished he could take back that text, wincing as he managed to look at the response

'Behave, eat dinner or I'll put you over my knee young man.'

Killian stared and stared at that answer, he knew Walter was just teasing but, his cheeks were warm and he was...was he blushing.

----

"You all set to go Timothy?"

Walter smiled, his back was feeling a hundred times better after Timothy had dug into the knots, it wasn't a surprise that he was good with his hands, you had to have nimble ones to work with the tech they used here.

"Yeah, just coming boss!"

He pulled his satchel over his shoulder after pulling on his old brown leather jacket

"Please Timothy don't call me that, call me daddy."

Walter laughed at how silly that sounded

"I'm sorry, pfffft don't call me that god please, no, Walter's just fine."

Tim had paused a moment a slight fear he might have a streak like his last boss after all but that laugh was too warm and giggly and just shook his head with a smile

"Wouldn't dream of it Walter, you're more of a kitten anyway."

Timmy felt his insides tighten a little and there was that hint of Jack Dna surfacing.

"So shall we go?"

Beckett enquired looking up at him, huh he kinda looked like Killian, just a little.

"Ready when you are."

And with that they were off.

(Alright end of this ramble, Timothy has been thrown in because I needed the gasp drama of prolongation and shit and didn't have the energy to create an oc and honestly I'll mash anything from anywhere if it's convenient bleh)